A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- askjhfadljhak I am exhausted from today. Another draining day, and if i hear those goddamn drums one more time from next door, i swear to fucking christ i don't care how far back they've been dear friends of the family, they're all gonna be headline news tomorrow morning. some of us have fucking jobs we need to be at tomorrow morning, it took both my brother and i standing and staring down one of the family members --as our shouting at them was lost in the drumming and whooping of the small mob-- to earn tonight's abatement of whatever the fuck this ceremony is. shit like this stretches and taxes the the limits of good will...we've put up with the banging now for two fucking months, tolerating it only because it was generally contained to short blocks that never started earlier than 6 in the evening and before tonight never ended any later than 10. but for the fucking noise to seemingly end at midnight and then to start up again just as anybody was starting to fall asleep around this house elevated "rude" to levels that i can't even define right now. god, i am so fucking pissed right now. i am glad i have no fresh razors at hand, the aggravation is just that intense... between that and the stupid twat that has been riding me and the Grey Lady about the big job... she keeps calling me and asking me stupid questions and asking me to drop what i am doing to complete the project so that i can give her a list and an update of where all of this shit stands. bad enough she can't tell her ass from her ashes, worse that she has the amount of power she has over such a delicate matter. i mean, fuck, lady, if you'd leave me alone long enough to actually get some fucking work done, things might actually make a little progress and get done... then i could write up a nice, neat, concise account of what it was i had to do to finish instead of having to contend with this bullshit micromanagement. little does she realize that everytime she interrupts me, she detracts from the singleness of my purpose that allows me to remain committed and focused to such a tedious monstrosity as this little task. it is my obsessive psychosis that fuels both my art and the skills that have made me valuable enough to keep in spite of my having a very nasty attitude toward a number of our internal customers and the politicians who pull our strings. fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck____fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck____fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck____fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck____fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck____fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck____fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck___fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck___fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck____fuck fuck fuck
1:28 a.m. - 2002-12-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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