Twenty Sixteen


The reason I put ‘2016’ as the title is because I couldn’t think of any. I haven’t written anything in a long long time and that isn’t just one of those ‘falling out of blogging’ things. I couldn’t write anymore. And now, as my hands fly over the rusty keys of my trusted computer…I don’t know why I am doing this. Each and every one of my friends, the ones who used to blog and write have flown far away. It feels old and distant. I feel old myself. The only though that compelled me again as I sit in a cold corner, tired after packing for my final year in it is an another year. A whole new chance to start over and face a whole new set of experiences waiting for me. I am tired of the same old ways the world runs around me.

Enough is Enough.

Yeah, I am busting and you want me to add a title

You see I am just staring. Just staring at the screen. Pausing after typing every second word. Fighting off all that is boiling to just burst its way out of me. Biting back my tongue and breathing deep, just enough to evade an anger attack. I have said this before. Don’t piss me don’t offend me. You have no idea what anger does to me.

And yes, again it is thrashing its way through me threatening to blow my arms away. I hate this pain. I hate every stupid single thing at the moment. This is not the cheery understanding or the good me. This is the part of me that exists only to destroy me. And frankly and so ironically speaking, I let it

I don’t need stupid old speeches. Let me be in my situation I will get over it. I have made all those rants. I know it all. If not much, that enough to crawl into the darkness and curl into a pathetic ball while you live a life in which I don’t exist. I want to kill you with my bare hands.. I really want to kill someone.

Well, sounds so brutal but hell I am not one bit like that. My friend says any of these days I’ll snap into a werewolf (my furry little problem). Phuff

If you don’t want me around.. I will never poke in your life and try being a part of it. Just trust me that one bit. And drop that small penknife you have in your hands. I have been bruised by bigger tools.. Leave the small patches left in my heart. It does you no harm by beating that faintly. You can’t even hear it Sir.