Poppin in my ear plugs and going to the range, life is so empty, I hate death, death is the devil. Death is the enemy. Need to take my mind off being alone. The range helps with that. Even though I'm still alone, I don't feel so alone. I imagine echoes of the past, I imagine other beings who were my ancestors that heard this exact same rapport...and I feel less alone. If one were to make light of the situation to lessen the tension one might say, I am become destroyer of cans. But levity feels inappropriate right now. And that makes me even angrier. I will vent my anger on those god damn cans. I miss you, kin kin, I will miss you forever, because you are gone, you are not supposed to be gone, you had done everything right and you were kind. And now I will blow away these cans because I cannot blow away death, I cannot kill the reaper, no matter how much he deserves it./vent
Fiction/Fantasy
The waitress is my ex, I'm Mickey, and my new ideal perfect gf is Mallory. *sigh* If only.
https://youtu.be/jmEEri_XwtE
I just want to say to my ex: I know you're reading this you trash, you're trash, you hear me? You garbage! You're a BAD PERSON and you're a SUCK SHITTER who FETISHIZES BLACKS AND THEN GETS RAPED BY THEM HAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! /vent
P.S. WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST REPLACE ME WITH ANOTHER MIXED RACE OLDER MAN? I HAVE ALL THAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR, THAT'S LITERALLY ME!!!! FUCK YOU!!!! WHORE!!!! LYING WHORE!!!!!
Project ended.
Project status: Failure
Debrief complete.