Gears

i am troubled. i feel like everything i do either interfers with the mechanisms of God or the mechanisms of the world. imagine trhowing a silver dollar into the workings of a great clock, some people want a purpose, i need one. i feel battered, bruised and kicked about. and in a weird twist of irony i don't feel good about feeling that way, like i am guilty of some sin i don't know of because i feel like shit. There i said it, i feel like shit, i don't know what will make me feel better, i don't really want to listen to any answers, i just want shit fixed. and some cockamamey asshole tells me the best way to get what you want is to live this way and that and do this dog and pony show - well le'me tell you something you toupee wearing ass hat, i don't fucking play that way.

remember that silver dollar thrown into the big clock mechanism, my purpose is to bring those gears to a screaching halt or be destroyed. armageddon here i come.