Writer's block

I'm going to make a promise to myself to commit 15 minutes a night to this, at least, so I can at least get the creative juices flowing again.

The last year has gotten me down a bit; not too long after my mother passed followed a slew of pets - the family, . Each death in and of it self was trivial compared to the loss of my mother, and it didn't feel right to grieve over any of them, but the overall effect was a bit overwhelming.

Also, my anger has been relentless and unquenchable. It's hard to follow politics anymore when both sides keep fucking it up. In come the democrats, and I wanted them there, and I voted them in, but the limpdick assholes do everything I don't want them to. If it's important to me, they roll over; if it's trivial, they hold hearings on it. In almost all cases, the strategy seems to be, "let's just run the numbers". So they vote on bills that'll never pass, and they think that because at least they voted, and because the other side is completely fucking evil, I'll think they did a good job. Assholes.

I never realized how much of my adult life would be dedicated to people I despise with all of my soul. I'm not talking about my job - I like my job - I get to tackle interesting problems and help people out with little to no moral objections. No, I'm talking about the people I'm REALLY working for, the reason I get out of bed, to pay off Time Warner and Blue Cross \ Blue Shield and Netflix and every other business that has a hand in fucking me at every available opportunity. I hate them. They charge me for the cable, they charge me for the DVR service, they charge me for the DVR box, they charge me for the ability to charge me to rent movie. I get so angry, I grind my teeth. And then they'll charge me to fix those. In my darkest moments, I wonder just what was in those "mad" writings of Ted Kazinski. I keep wondering - if I were to read them - and I'm afraid to read them, because some part of me deep inside is afraid that I'd find truth.

All this blood and bile in my throat is taking it's toll. I'm just living now to be angry. I try to take my time off - I feel like I repair myself a little everytime I take an hour off to read my Nero Wolfe books - but overall, the strategies I've adopted to turn it all around - more sleep, no coffee, it's all coming down, and I'm just always mad.

The other day, I'm driving out of the mall, in one of those situtations where a long line of cars has piled up to exit the mall, and I'm at the back. Of course, at regular intervals in the parking lot, there are aisles where people are coming out. And I resent those people, because they're wedging in to get out where everyone behind them is only waiting to let more people in. And this goes on for a while - I'm barely moving ahead. And as I get to the front, where there's now only a few aisle of incoming traffic merging in front of me - I'm thinking, I'll be fair, let one guy in, close the gap - two cars ahead of me someone stops to let a car in, and the car right behind them immediately whips out as well.

I think it's probably better that I don't own a gun now, because the scene that played out in my head gave me one. I'd get out of the car right there, and march right up to the door of the driver and point it right at their head. I'd point right the fuck back where they came and shout "GET THE FUCK BACK OVER THERE!". In my mind there's a cheering chorus, and everyone is praising my sense of social justice. And stunned like a terrified deer in headlights, they don't move right away, so I smash in the fucking window, and pistol whip them around a little bit. And the people love me for it. And that dumb asshole backs up their little piece of shit lime green whatever-the-fuck, and the whole line of us empty out of the parking lot, and noone lets that fucker in, because we all hate them.

Maybe I just want my opportunity to shit on the discourteous as well, because that's what really seems to bother me.

Oh, well, fuck-a-duck. At least I have something to write about.