Cracked Head Like a Pipe

an early drawing of myself

i don't know where it started but the dizziness in my head is where I first noticed it. we were sitting on the couch discussing odd relations and trauma and i felt my head begin to swell. temples pounding, i feared my skull would stretch so far apart that my scalp would start to crack open like a sour egg. no crevices were found when my hand finally reached my head but by then i could feel the bitter foul bile rising from my stomach up through my chest and robbing me of my breaths. where were the breaths? who's the thief that stripped the air?

is this the enmeshment that so originally destroyed my life? how did it happen and what the f*ck am i going to do now? there is no safety from it only the most acrid bitter dread and foreboding that falls with the leaves. the leaves are falling early this year and i d*mn them all for no just cause of their own.

how ironic it is to hate anger. alleged righteous anger is the worst of all the angers. it is righteous anger that causes every ounce of me to flinch in terror and causes my body to go into shut-down mode. to have righteous anger you must experience the complete and utter alone and helplessness.

it is easier to just have a temper tantrum or a fit of rage or flip someone off on the road or punch some stranger in a bar. the avoidance of righteous anger is what destroys our society. it is better to bomb than to feel ... to empower by dis-empowering others ... to avoid the limp helplessness of a pile of crap.