You mad?

Yes, I mad.




Why am I mad?



I am mad because some males (I said some because not all of the male species are jerks, just most of them; and I say males because half the men I know are still boys) think that every time a women shows some emotion other than happy they are automatically on their period. If this statement was true, I would be on my period 365 days a year.



Apparently I can’t be mad at someone because they’re being a general douche bag; I must be on my period.



Because according to some males women do not have real emotions unless they are on their period. That seems to be the only way some males can justify their actions; “I’m not being an ass, she’s just on her period.”



Yes I’m crying, not because you broke my heart; because I’m on my period. Yes dad (yes, I have has this happen to me before), I’m upset because I’m on my period, not because you’re a crazy flipping control freak who can’t understand that your 18 year old daughter can make mistakes.



Okay, okay; so I can be a little more agitated when I have stabbing pains in my gut, an unstoppable flow of blood coming from my nether regions, and an uncontrollable cravings for things I know I can’t/shouldn’t eat. But I guess that’s not a good reason to snap at someone; unless you take into account the fact that nearly every male treats me like a leper as soon as they find out I’m on my period. Or, better yet, some males act epically idiotic because they think they can just blame the fact that I’m pissed at them because I’m on my period.



To re-iterate, yes I mad.



You would be mad too if you had some imaginary aunt come every month and give you shit ass-gifts along with cutting you open at the most inopportune times!

Out of Order

That's it, I have come to the end of my limit of how much shit I can put up with.




One knows when they have gotten to this limit because they feel as though their head is about to explode raspberry jam all over the computer screen.



I have gotten to this point.



I really want toast now.

 

Black Water

I wonder would it would be like to drown in the waters of my mind? My head is so full of dark thoughts and emotions; it’s feels like I’m in the middle of a black ocean. The water is think and cold.




Dead.



Nothing can survive beneath the surface for very long. Even the fish die, leaving the water with a thick smell of decay under a hot sun, despite there being no warmth.



I’m so cold.



How will I drown?



What are the ways the black water could drown me? How many ways could it be? It shouldn’t be that hard, all I would have to do is jump in.



Should I take a bunch of pills and fall asleep and not wake up? Should I twist a rope around my neck and hang from the beam in my basement? Should I shoot myself in the head and splatter my brains all over the wall? Should I cut my wrists down the middle and watch them bleed? Should I jump of a bridge into oncoming traffic and spread my body across the road? Should I run of the plate form and jump into a speeding train?



First I will feel cold and then I will feel nothing.



Nothing at all.