A Grievance Adressed: (or O!godithinkihatehim)
2009-11-30 | 11:14 p.m.
he giggles and grins at my sins, where i've been, and it makes me so very tired. his incompetence, uselessness, wasted words, are unrivaled to uninspire. so cold, am i! with fingers bitten to the core- for reasons few, then more once i am through that door; my landscape is bleak and my bloods are taciturn... chins up, those little bloods, so stern! once i had to try to come back to life... but he saw me and swallowed me whole in his pit i hide survived for his pride till i dig a hole through his soul. so all day! i am plagued with his failures so at night! i dream of my own. and my bloods cry for blood, and they rally to whittle their knives with my bones.
he don't know! that i know, that his treason of reason, is the field on which he fights. and i'll boil this soil, put fire to its oil, set the whole goddamned ground alight.
work on your management skills
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