I seriously need to control these demons I have running in my veins. Demons whose urges are sometimes so strong that I feel compelled to scream at the top of my lung and puke out my charred words, incinerated by my flame of rage. Even, even at my MOST LOVED ones.
It bothers me that I thought its called for, that it is OK for me to yell out abusive verses at them - or to engage in a less profane, but no less harmful tool at my disposal - Cynicism. It bothers me that I thought it was OK for me to do that.
Truthfully, I don't wanna be in this state. But on the contrary, ironically, I find myself so often refusing the refuge of talking things out. You know its fucken' bad to stay in the state, you know no good will come out of it. But you just don't wanna be saved.
But in the utmost actuality, you do. And fuck, save your breaths from telling me how paradoxical this is. I am a breathing Paradox. Don't tell me ME.