I was going to come home and pound on this computer keyboard in a fit of vented steam.
I was going to let out all the aggravation and rage I bottle inside every day. Let out all the frustrations I feel towards my career, towards my life, towards the world in general...
Write about that girl that I really like, but I�m too chicken to do anything about.
Write about how they�re installing cameras with microphones at work specifically to spy on me. Specifically to spy on me.
Write about how they continuously shaft me, and then apologize for shafting me over and over again. Write about how I�m vacillating between quitting and forcing them to fire me in the next couple of days.
vent. Rage. RAGE!
Write about how empty I feel inside when I don�t have someone to love me, someone to take care of. Someone to be there, someone to care, someone to hear my venting.
My venting.
Write about how much this whole fucking world sucks, and how if I were Bruce Willis in �Armageddon�, I would have let the earth die. How, if given the power to destroy humanity as a whole, I would do it without thinking.
Without thinking.
Bang.
You�re all dead.
I had all these glorious plans for fantastic prose based on all the unresolved anger I�m feeling. All the unrequited love. All the wasted talent inside me.
But when I was shooting pool at Sweetwater, one of the regulars came in an ordered a round of whiskey for the guys sitting at the bar. All eight of them, and sadly, I was not sitting at the bar.
Then he announced that he�d just gotten engaged.
And I realized...
nothing I have to say will ever matter.
The world will be both good and bad without me, and my words will have no bearing upon the course of it.
And with all that bottled up rage and anger, I take more then a little pleasure in simply witnessing an important moment in this man�s life.
