Working Man

Been throwing myself into work to cope with my life under the microscope. 12 hour days yield impressive results. The Corporate Muppet is a giddy idiot. Unfortunately, I'm finding work running low. I've caught up my backlog and started helping some of my "colleagues" with theirs. It's still not enough. I sat and stared at a blank wall in my office for over an hour today, practically foaming at the mouth with the desire to kill. I long for that rush that only comes from piercing cattle flesh with a razor sharp knife. There's a beautiful poetry that is spoken by muffled screams and hopeless struggles. The shear brilliance of horror and terror filled eyes cannot be matched by any painting or photograph. It would be easier to capture lightning in a bottle than mimic these gorgeous sights. When my phone rang with an idiot client on the line it shook me from my day dream. I was so disoriented it was like someone had punched me in the face. I struggled momentarily to put my "human mask" back on. I've got to get a grip on myself lest I end up in a tangible cage.