Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Diary of a Lady - 15


Interacting with people frightens me. Loud people put me off. The overly ambitious leave me quaking in my dirty old shoes. The smug ones need a good smack. The intelligent mind makes me feel dumb. I loathe having prolonged conversations with a group of people because more often than not, such 'sessions' highlight my inadequacies. My thoughts get confused, the noise is disorienting… and the pointlessness of the situation hits me in gut.

The evening before last, I was forced to attend a sit-down dinner. I shrank in horror even as I looked at the shiny, happy faces around me. Why can't I be shiny and happy? My friend who knows my insanity throws me a sympathetic glance and tries to involve me in the conversation, but I cannot talk.

After an hour of nicotine and alcohol, I wanted to kill the lot — in true PS3 style. I zoomed in on the faces that irked me the most. The judgmental prig needs a good fuck, and should then be burnt on a stake. The grating laugher. Bang, bang… you're dead. The arrogant boor. I'm going to stab you with my dinner knife. I imagined their blood spilling on the dinner table. It was satisfying.

I have nothing to say to anyone anymore. Yes, winter is slowly setting in. Yes, 65-year-olds are having sex with nubile African boys. And then… silence. I drag my tired feet home and curl up in bed. I welcome my nightmares — they're not as bad as my reality.

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