a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal: cutmedown








triggered


Why do uncontrollable rages of hate draw up through my blood and pulsate through my body unannounced. Something brings it on. Thinking about the past, or seeing something. I know there is something that triggers this. Fury. The kind that drives people to hate, to kill. I think that someone needs to pay. I do not know who and I do not know why, but somebody or something needs to pay. I have fucking had it. I feel like I am being strangled. I am bleeding internally, suffering lesions on my muscles. I am coughing up blood and getting kicked in the stomach, in the head.

I don�t want to come out and say, �Don�t fuck with me right now.� But I am so close to it. I do not want to sound psychotic, homicidal. I can�t be pushed, I keep repressing and repressing. I don�t know how much longer I will last. Flashes from normalcy to rage, normalcy to rage. It�s only the numbness again. The numbness fights the rage, fights the sadness, fights the relentless rush of tears battling to stream out from behind my eyes.


written on 2002-12-30 at 1:38 a.m.

she / lost