My tongue will speak the anger of my heart or my heart will break concealing it.
SOMETIMES when I get backed into a corner or I feel threatened Ill retreat inward… into myself to a place where words and possible dangers roll right off my back.. OTHER TIMES when the fight or flight instinct kicks in…. I FIGHT. I become explosive and angry. WHY? Because my pain escapes me as anger…. my fear escapes in the form of rage….. Because I don’t know how to feel pain or how to cope with the inner rage… I live in a world of solitude and regret. I exist in a place where the light seldom reaches and never stays for long. The corners of my heart are dark… Sometimes I think its found new ways to keep the darkness in me. I’M SAFE HERE! It might be lonely trapped inside but at least I know where I am. At least I know nothing can hurt me but me. Ill implode and when the storm passes, Ill rebuild…. Its just what I do. ~~Rage girl
*Note, can’t stress the hypothetical aspect of this enough, I’m a lover not a fighter, I don’t have it in me to kill a human being. Although, then again, I am the guy who just last night said “Some people get restraining orders, I earn mine”. So writing the word hypothetical a million times in this blog probably won’t save me. Whatever. Here We Go.
3. A Lake
Now the East Coasters reading this will probably say, what the fuck? We don’t even have Lakes. Well guys, out here in the Midwest we have lakes, lots and lots and lots of lakes. The entire state of Wisconsin is a Lake. Minnesota, one gigantic Lake. Lake Michigan, ever heard of it? Only the biggest lake in the world. So who’s to say your hockey bag full of “concrete” didn’t accidentally slip off your boat when you were visiting one of our thousands of lakes. No one. That’s who. The lakes can’t be properly policed for dead bodies, its impossible.
2. The Trash
Not the whole body you morons. Piece by Piece. A finger here, a foot there. You think the trash-men check what’s in the trash? Fuck no. It’s trash. It all smells like a dead body. Only see 2 downsides doing this. 1) I’m lazy so I usually let the trash pile crazy high and 2) The Mexicans who patrol the alleys (at least in Chicago) looking for scrap metal may find your dead body. So for that I’ll probably just do what kids do with Santa Claus but instead of leaving cookies and milk I’ll leave out a taco and some tequila. Let the Mexicans know, “hey ese, silencio por favor”.
Now here is the question I have always asked myself. Do people not feed dead bodies to sharks or is feeding a dead body to a shark such a good idea that no one has ever found out that it has happened? Sort of a chicken and egg thing. Makes you wonder. If every unsolved murder that ever happen is in a great white’s stomach right now? My guess is yes. Feeding a body to a shark is the ONLY way to go.
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