Refocusing my anger

You might note the great lapse in time between this post and the last post. There are several reasons for that, primary among them is the level of actual work to be done in the office that has prevented me from focusing on my little photography/hateful words project. Also, because I have been so focused on TCB (yes, I am a BTO fan) that I have not had actual time to get angry.

Then two things happened. The first occurred this morning when I went into the kitchen. The second occurred tonight when I saw the Wedding web page for my first serious girlfriend, ya know... the first love. The one that got away. The heartless devilbeast. Subsequently, I am full of anger at this moment so I am going to kill two birds with one stone and chastise the dish offender with the rage I have towards my exgirlfriend. It is also worth noting that yes, we have been broken up for nearly a decade, but there are just some things you never want to get over because, just like getting drilled in the groin, they make you feel alive.

So here is the mess:

You know what bothers me the most... the lack of respect. You expect me to just be there for you for so long, cleaning up your mess. Look at you. You left me... i mean you left 15 mugs in the sink you asshole. What gives you the right. You lead me on with a few days with a clean sink... and then you, you just come in and dump me... errr dump these mugs in the sink. Then you have the nerve to parade around all happy.

You know your problem, you are fucking selfish. And you hide. You hide behind the guise of calling others selfish for not cleaning up your mess. You expect me to be something you want (a dishwasher) instead of letting me-helping me grow to become what I want. You are a hateful bitch (or dickhead, cause it could be a guy).

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. 

That is not enough to express the hurt and emotional damage you have caused me for years. So many dishes. SO MANY DISHES. But really, you do not deserve my time. I will hang out with kitchen patrons who wash their own dishes and put their dishes away like normal people, rather than just discarding them as soon as they are done with them.

Fuck you, you giant bucket of putrid mucus-laden douche.

Ahhhhh. That is better.

And one more thing, in a message directed at the actual ex-girlfriend (which she shall never see)... way to really pour salt in the wound by setting your wedding date 8 years to the day that you dumped me for the piece of crap frenchman. Enjoy "falling down the stairs" the rest of your life.

Now THAT felt good.