There are times when one has to speak without inhibition. Times, usually aided by too much red wine, when a fella needs to tell it like it is. Sometimes yelling shit from the rooftops is the only healthy choice. A physical release for the yeller; who the hell is listening anyway? I mean really. Who is reading this shit? Why am I pounding away at this keyboard? What the hell is the point?
The point, um the point is, I can. I can scream fuck you at the universe, and it doesn't matter, because the universe isn't listening anyway. If it were, I would be much politer. I'd most certainly say please and thank you. I would, no doubt, hold the door.
So hey, fuck you universe! What have you done for me lately? Why should I, this mere mortal, feel the need to shake my head at you in dismay? I'd ask when it was gonna get better, but I fear that this is as good as it gets.
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