Rhythems of the mind
Like pain, like feeling returning after being plunged into ice then hot bleach then salt. Like lemon juice on scratched retina with missing eyelids. Like the worlds biggest Absinth hangover on the hottest day, with a presentation to make to the board. Like clawing your way out from under a blackboard covered in rubble and all I want to do is scream like an animal with it's nipples caught on the electric fence but I can't because that would be loosing.There has to be a way out but can I make it before I start blazing away with a flame-thrower, destroying everything in my path, fucking people up both physically and emotionally, with the finesse of an athlete in the zone but there is only room for one person in the zone now. Fuck off out of my way.
Excreted by Mrs DC @ 3:52 PM
4 Comments:
Good weekend, eh?
The weekend was fine - just the fucking cunts at work that at the problem. If you can imagine being handed a photocopy of a newspaper about your performance at work as you walk through the door.
The fuckers invade my area of responsibility, let me find out through the grapevine, basically just piss around and then tell the papers how much better they did it.
I am amazed I have made it this far through the day wothout maiming someone.
Umm...There's always tomorrow.
My main problem at the moment is keeping the eyelids open for eight hours a day. Then again, I'm not bouncing off the same excrement sect as you.
I always adopt the approach of mentally screming in my head:
"Suck My COCK!"
If by any chance it slips out ... I probably should accept the fact that I shouldn't be working where I work!
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