anti-interlude

I haven't lost my temper for more than three seconds in four years; and now, suddenly, I'm boiling poison mad and I don't know why.
Everything bothers me. It bothers me that I'm mad. It bothers me that I have no reason to be mad. It bothers me that eleven people have not replied to letters I wrote them. It bothers me that I don't have a job. It bothers me that my phone is a piece of junk. It bothers me that every second person I meet is an idiot. It bothers me to be near people who fawn and grovel and lie with their faces. It bothers me that most of the people I call friend are not worthy of the epithet. It bothers me that I give so much and get nothing in return. It bothers me to see myself treated with a double standard. It bothers me that I might have double standards of my own. It bothers me that nothing seems worth it. It bothers me that I think of the same person when I wake up every day. It bothers me that people have borrowed my books and haven't returned them. It bothers me that I have books at home that I haven't returned, for whatever reason. It bothers me that I haven't read half the books in the house. It bothers me that we don't have enough money. It bothers me that I think money is important. It bothers me that it probably is. It bothers me not to have a grand dream. It bothers me that I hate the city I grew up in more with every day I spend in it. It bothers me that people disgust me. It bothers me that everyone is busy. It bothers me to imagine that nobody knows what they're doing. The constant rape of the planet bothers me. Pollution, garbage, self-righteous assholes who don't give a shit - they all make me want to break things and burn things and destroy things. It bothers me that I can't break or burn or destroy things because...that would be wanton and selfish and wrong.

It bothers me to be alive...
...in this space and time with all of you.