17 hour shift

I can feel the anger swelling within me.

Slowly.

But surely.

It grows.

I want to stand still. I need to be statuesque pillar of unyielding apathy. But I am buried in box and it makes my body convulse in rage. "I dont want to hear your problems anymore. I got my own! You don't want to help me with mine, so bugger off!"

My throat constricts like I have put on twenty pounds and my shirt has shrunk in the wash. Its so tight and as i stretch and pull on it, it only gets tighter. I want to scream but I know that will only make me more angry... and frustrated. I can only scream so much and then I won't be able to anymore. i am angrier than that.

My mind races with thoughts. Its like being in the front row of a movie theatre during a car chase scene. Its blurry and nauseating. You can't see clearly whats going on, but I get the idea of whats happening. As my mind struggles, it gets sleepy. Maybe it just wants to roll over and die. I feel defeated. I am an dark, pulsating, open wound in an ocean of psychotic great whites. Might as well let the frenzy take over and accept what is coming to me. I am infuriated that i am hypocritically both wound up and fatigued.

I want to wipe an endangered species of the face of the planet. I want to laugh at someone's misfortune. I want to jump through the hole in the ozone and let my anger burn me to a cancerous crisp.

Its spreading.

An ominous harbinger of hatred.

I'm consumed.