Is there a mouse in the house?
Their logic ties me up and rapes me…
- The Police, Do Do Do Do De Da Da Da -
Don’t mind me… I will be a cranky bastard for the next few days.
Like the old African parable of the lion with the thorn stuck in his paw. Anyone who wishes to keep their head in the center of their shoulders, had better avoid me in the next few days…
You know those molars? The ones I’ve been grinding out of sheer aggravation, for the past 2 1/2 years? The exposed nerves? Well add that with a sinus infection from two days ago, which is slowly settling in those raw pockets of nerves in my mouth… and you have a blinding, searing, MADDENING kind of pain that I have probably experienced maybe once or twice in my whole life.
The soonest I can see a dentist is Tuesday. Until then, Ora-Gel, Tylenol 3′s, warm salt water, and swishing with vodka, so I can take just enough of the edge off, so I can suck on the nerve, pull it just so it’s out of the way of the infection, and whatever the hell metallic filling fragment seems to be touching it.
When the sun goes down, and the fever starts, I can scare a werewolf….
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
But this rant isn’t about rape or pain… at least not literally.
It supposed to be a happy story, but strangely it isn’t.
We’re supposed to look back and laugh, right?
We were down in the Blakeslee/Brodheadsville area to pick up supplies. It’s where we used to live. The house we used to own. The driveway that used to make us cower every time a strange or (worse yet) a law enforcement car would pull in…
The familiar sights of the area made me physically ill. The stores and suppliers that I had to fight tooth and nail to work out deals. The roadside magistrates that held the fate of my family in their hands, thinking they were God. The builders that lure us out of the city with big dreams and promises, only to stick us in areas where lifelong residents hate New Yorkers with a passion…
Damn them all to fucking hell.
It’s so different now. We’re living far from there. The threats are no longer looming over us. Two out of three wars are long behind us. We’re not under a 10th of the pressure we were living through two years ago, much less, this time last year.
“Happier days are definitely ahead for you, struggle has ended.
Lucky Numbers 3, 4, 6, 8, 44, 45″
See? Even my fortune cookie from today said so.
But I can’t stop the anger. I can’t stop being bitter toward those small-town, small-minded bastards that have systematically taken everything away I had… and I’m slowly just getting back now. Just because they thought we “needed to learn a lesson”, and see how they “do things out here”.
Those we trusted… then betrayed us, and hurt us in every way unimaginable.
Ripping all trust and hope we had in people away forever.
This seething anger will live on long after my teeth are all fixed.
And no…
I don’t want to let it go.
This unholy rage is the fire that burns inside. That drives me.
That one day will consume me.
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