dʒizʌs kroiɪst

Exercise: An hour of running about on playgrounds with my HP friends.
Voice: LOVE all frickin' day. I can't get it out of my head.
Reading: None. Woops.
Participation: 100
Explanation(if above 89): Read for Solomon. Yay.

I just got into a rather foul mood. And there's not a damn thing I can think to do to solve the problem. And I don't want to have it just marinate. I can't say anything for fear the problem will hunt me down. Grr. Angerangerangerangerangerangeranger. Not getting things makes me angry. Not getting people, things, and then when I get angry people get angry at me, and think I think they should think I'm perfect or something. NO. Not the case. But there I get confused, because if what I think I'm doing is reliably misinterpreted by absolutely everybody, then who's right? I'd *like* to think I am. They're my emotions with my own reasons.
God. Now I feel so stereotypical. *ahem* NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME! WHY CAN'T ANYBODY SEE MY SIDE OF THINGS!? I'M SO ALONE AND MISERABLE. *cough* I wish I could digress as I normally do. But for some reason I can't.

If a small thing has the power to make you angry, does that not indicate something about your size?
Sydney J. Harris

And now I feel tiny. GOD DAMNIT! If I'm not allowed to get angry since that means I'm letting others control me, what do I fucking DO? Could someone explain that to me? I know it shouldn't get me angry but it DOES! So now what? Smolder? Spasm at the ensuing lack of fulfillment and compensation??? That turns it into depression, damnit! And last I checked, that's just as bad! Just less enthusiastic. Fuckin' hell. I would have to punch several people with babies* to feel fulfilled right now, so how do I replace that? Music at this point does jack shit. Geez.

*The image is of using babies to pummel people. The people in question are not parents.

Today, my name is Vinnie Garvin McPiss