[ 2022 – Rants to the World ]
Cancer, really, you are back? Again?! Do you have no shame?! No decency?! Bugging me again? I tell you what. Go to hell. Seriously. Who do you think you are? This is not funny anymore. Oh, it’s not a game? In that case. Go to hell. Seriously. What is this all about? Oh, you want a life as well? You tell me we are not that different? We both want to live? If I die, you die. You cannot live without me. But I can live without you. Very well even. Go to hell. Seriously. This is all such a sick joke. So fucked up. Swearing doesn’t even come close. See how unhappy you make me? Busting my life. Again? What kind of sick living being you are! Killing people for a living. Making their lives miserable for a living. Is that all you could come up with? You are a sicko and your plan is foolish. If I die, you die. You cannot live without me. But I can live without you. Tried and proven. Go to hell. Seriously. Fuck you. Tripple fuck you. I am out of words to talk to you appropriately. Almost. I will not allow you to silence me. Never. I will always find words. They might not be the most fitting. I might have to repeat myself. I won’t refrain from any type of word. I will remain open to new ways to talk to you to talk you down to talk over you to talk next to you to talk me away from you to talk you away from me. I won’t care about grammatical correctness as if that mattered in a situation like this. I won’t hold back just because I could make mistakes. Who is the judge anyways? And who decides how to talk to the devil? I show my lack of respect by using the most incorrect and mistaken way of talking to you. You don’t deserve proper language, concordance of time, adverbs and not just adjectives, proper prepositions and what not. I’ll speak my way. And I won’t stop talking. Grammar is for pussies. Grammar is for a life that feels good, and for wishful thinking. I am sure you get what I mean even when my sentences are messed up, my words are slightly off, my speaking is full of false friends and incorrect inflections. It’s all in my tone. The voice is the messenger. Hear me yelling?! Hear me crying?! Hear my voice breaking up? You know exactly how I feel and what I mean to say. Anyways. Go to hell before all hell breaks loose.
California Journal 