Tag Archives: rage

Self preservation

Don’t be nice.

Being nice is the most
damaging thing in
the world you can
do to yourself.

Yes, people will think well of you
if you’re nice.
If they think of you at all.

See, nice is forgettable.

Nice agrees to everything.
Nice hurts nobody.
Nice doesn’t lose his shit.
Nice turns the other cheek.

Don’t turn the other cheek.

Hit back hard enough
to break the other
person’s jaw.

Not only does it
help you make the point,
It’s also deeply satisfying.

Learn to say no.
Learn to stand up for yourself.
Learn to not give a fuck.

Do that and you will still
have a modicum of life.

Be nice
and the world
will fuck with you
and walk all over you
till you drug or drink
yourself to death
just trying to deal
with it.

I’ve had enough family
and friends in rehab to
know that the middle finger
is only way back to sanity.

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Trespasser

There is a thief in my
head.

Stealing my sleep,
my peace, my
happiness.

It’s an anger
without a name.

Slinking in at will to
pillage my feelings,
rob my emotions,
sack my sanity.

I try to forget.
I try to forgive.
A thousand things.

But then I remember
a thousand more.

And the plunder
begins afresh.


Ugly

‘You are an asshole!’
she screamed on the phone.

‘That is correct.’ I muttered
distractedly as I sipped
hot coffee and and changed
channels on the TV
searching for the
Chelsea- Arsenal match.

‘It’s over, you bastard!’
she screamed again and
disconnected.

That’s how it ends.
Every fucking time.

Falling in love always
smells of roses
and falling out of it
always smells of shit.

Expectations fall like a
ton of bricks on the
fragile little rabbit
called attraction
and crush it and
soon all that is
left is stench of
something
rotting.

And what starts as
two nice people
just wanting to fuck
each other ends
with both getting
proper fucked.

‘My love’ to ‘asshole’
is the arc of every love story.

Unless it’s studio produced.

 

 


Hewn 

She raised the
machete high
above her head,
her eyes Buddha calm,
and slashed down.

His eyes widened
as the blade flashed
down through the
lazy, curling smoke and
cleaved their joined flesh.

Making them two again.
Making them free once more.

Bathed in gushing,
warm blood
he stumbled out,
blinking in the
bright sunlight to
light a cigarette
and watch a tall girl
with a nice ass
in a short skirt
cross the road,
as he hummed
an old song
he didn’t know
he remembered

The free can do anything.

They have already paid
their pound of flesh.


Consolation

Life is so  hectic because
it’s so fucking sad.

It’s fucking pathetic, really.

Everyone disappoints you
in the end.

Heroes fall.
Friendships fade.
Love doesn’t last.
Passions vanish.
Gods disappear.
Youth goes.
Dreams shatter.
Hopes break.
People die.

Nothing lasts.

Thank God for
the hamster wheel
of everyday.
The rat race, the routine.

Thank heavens
for not having
a minute to breath.

Pause and think and
you’ll go stark, raving mad.
Don’t go mad.

Get moving.
Get busy.
Make money.
And who knows,
someday even you
may own a three
bedroom-hall-kitchen
apartment in the
right suburb.

Now that’s a happy thought.


Hence

Because I can’t
have you
I have others.

Because I don’t
want them
I can’t keep them.

They all leave,
sooner  or later.

No donkey chases
a carrot forever.

And I get more pissed
because  now I don’t
have the one I love
and I can’t keep the
ones who love me .

What a fucking mess.


Counting my blessings

When you left me
I wanted to throw a
Molotov cocktail into
your car.

I wanted to
machine gun
your entire
unsympathetic family.

I wanted to dynamite
your house.

I wanted to guillotine
your asinine friends.

And castrate your
non-existent,
future husband.

And in a few
short years I’ve
forgotten how the
fuck do you even
look like.

Thank god for
a bad memory