Undone

Back to school.

The three words that drive fear into the heart of any senior. That includes me. I hate it there, and it hates me there, so I think we’d all just be MUCH happier if I didn’t have to go. Blah. It’s not like the councilors listen or do much anyway. In fact, I”m not really sure what they’re doing anyway. I mean I tell them that the kids at school make me feel a little…. what’s the word….

PSYCHOTIC

but it’s like Columbine never happened. They don’t listen to me, and I could tell them till I’m blue in the face. God. I tell my therapist too, and it’s like something I”m supposed to deal with. Yes, I should just deal with ON MY OWN a debilitating anger management problem. Because so far, I’m doing SO well. It’s like– They don’t even hear the words I”m saying. Like the things I’m saying aren’t clear. I guess that makes sense, because i don’t understand completely either. It seems fairly simple.

I get angry around people.

I am forced to be around LOTS of people

I get REALLY angry.

Now what? You’re just going to leave me there to destroy the unsuspecting masses? God I love the school districts here. It’s like they’re praying for someone to come a long and kill all of the little sponge cakes off. They ask for it, pray for it, something to ease the economic PAIN they THINK they’re in.

Deluded Bastards. Don’t know anything.

I guess everyone will be a little more than surprised when my basket breaks. I told them and told them I was a screw loose. Fair warning. So much for them listening.

Derringer Meryl [Lucky I don’t own a gun] Out