Good Morning, California
Incredible. Fires rage. Fog pulls in. Morons roam the streets, ears plastered to cell phones. CA in the morning. Humboldt isn't on fire. Not this year. Not yet. We can't be that lucky.
I moved to this state over a decade ago. Never liked the work ethic. Many of the people are fine, but a majority of them make me want to sink my teeth into their throats and not let go.
I don't deal with stupidity very well.
I imagine today will go like any other day. Go to the office. Work. Make some people happy. Make others upset. Trudge through. I hope to get some writing done this weekend, maybe see some friends. The rain's supposed to come Saturday. I like the rain. It is a cleansing force. Makes me feel at home. Right.
I looked in the mirror today, thinking of the fires and all the terror that goes with them. I know what people think of me. Some like me. Some think I'm a prick. I wonder what I think of myself, though. I'm not liking how I've been lately. Too stressed. Too depressed. Too on edge.
I used to want to grind my enemies into dust, scatter them to the winds. Now I forget about them. They aren't important enough to devote time to. I figure I'll save my bent up hostility for targets that really deserve it. No, not the lady who almost hit me with her car while chattering on her cell phone. God will take care of that one. Toss her a little lump in her breasts or some weird sores in her most holy of holies. Perhaps a stray drive-by will find her way to her door.
She didn't even acknowledge the fact that she almost wiped me out. Insane.
No. I've got my own deals to flesh out. My own mandates. And they don't involve people. They involve my writing and getting into the right head space. This stuff, the blog (therapy), is hold over. This is preventive.
This is distortion.