Perhaps It Is Time To Kick Some Ass
I think it would be fitting to give justice to a person that deserves it. I wonder what goes through a mind of a person that thinks it’s okay to emotionally and physically abuse someone. Is that gratifying? Or is it just a power thing? Does it feel good to punish someone unjustly?
If I am angry with you, I’ll be short with you. I don’t want to have an argument, unless it is completely necessary. I don’t want to shout at you unless this is a pretty fucking serious argument. Those don’t happen very often for most people, but still, people shout. People shout and scream and throw tantrums like spoiled children, because things don’t go their ways. I was a brat when I was a little kid, but I didn’t hurt anyone. I just cried it out. I wanted a little attention. Is it an attention thing?
I have a friend. She will always be a part of my life, no matter how much she is there. I think about her all the time. I think about her hair or her laugh or her intelligence. I miss it. A lot. Then I think about this thing that keeps holding her back, for what reason I can’t figure out. She could be really great if that one thing wasn’t there.
If that one thing wants to mess up my life, I wish it would try. It can’t. That’s the thing about being in my family. I’ve developed a taste for well-deserved justice, and so have my big brothers.
I have decided to work out, because summer is coming, and I will have the time. I requested weekends off. I am going to run and run and run. I am going to do sit ups again and push ups again and be as strong as I was before I graduated highschool. I really miss that.. except my back/shoulder muscles. They looked too big.
Today, my teacher was telling us how children can say true, frightening things. She worked as an SLP for abused children. One of them asked, “How come my daddy sucks on my peepee until it hurts?” I can’t believe that. I am so shocked and disgusted that anyone could do that to a child. Can you imagine growing up, and having that pop in your head everyday? Thinking about things that makes your gut wrench out and you want to die? How terrible.
You know, if someone manipulated me like that, I don’t know how I would handle it either. Maybe I would ask my speech teacher why it happened, even though she doesn’t know the answer. Maybe I would cry every night, and cry when that person hurt me.
I just don’t understand how an abusive person could live with himself. To him, I say this: You are a bad person. Maybe you had a redeemable quality, but it’s lost. You allowed people to trust you, only to show how unworthy of it you are. You might be clever or quirky or nicely dressed, but you’re just the dirt on the bottoms of my sneakers. You’re dirt.
I believe in Karma. You get out of life what you put into it. I hope there’s one helluva whooping at the end of that one.
