It's just been one of those mind numbingly angry days. The day where you can't remember what day of the week it is (I came to realize it's Saturday, go figure). The sound of wind makes you want to scream, so you find yourself whispering go fuck yourself...to the wind. A pen drop could make or break you kind of day. More than likely ending with you catching a charge by stabbing someone with prior pen. Crying isn't helping. Laughing isn't warm anymore. You are out for blood. Because you feel like everyone is always after a taste of yours. It's been a long day..a long year already, it's been a long life.