Damn it Bobby, you're right...at least half way. Already copping to, and coping with my bullshit already.
I've spent a good portion of this week mulling over a question that I've asked myself more than I'd admit. "How the fuck did I get here?" It's not quite the spot X marks between that rock and a hard place, but I'd be a lying son of a bitch if I said it was comfortable. Treating it like time out, as if I have time to think about what I did and after that I can go to my room without supper. That, or I'm waiting for permission, mercy, a pat on the head...the fuck am I still doing standing here?
Oh, that's right, it's self induced. Instead of moving on from bad decisions and the hindsight marathon, I shadowbox with regret, and hold loathing to my wrist like a straight razor. Misguided energy is wicked, it creates something hateful...sinister. A newly minted beast that will devastate every ounce of what I hold dear...that monster looks just like me.
All this fury, tyranny and just plain depreciation has it's compass fucked up. Why am I compromising my own foundation, when it is yours (and others) I need to condemn and put the wrecking ball to? Fixer upper = controlled implosion. Let the wind carry you the fuck up out of here, I got worthwhile reconstruction to do.
