Ill Use

The unpleasant feeling of ill-use washed through my body like toxic in my veins. Poisoning my thoughts, darkening my sight.

Overworked.

And under-appreciated.

It had been a particularly trying day today. In fact, it had been one of the worst days in my holiday so far, and trust me, there has been almost NO horrible days so far.

Some people just have to spoil it.

Like that rude kid who didn’t have the basic manners. He ran around my whole house like it belonged to him, jumping on my sofa and screaming like a deranged baboon. I summoned all of my self control to not just grab him and then shake him hard.

He even shrieked at my hamsters. My poor fluffy hamsters who are afraid of loud noises. My poor fluffy hamsters who doesn’t dare to bite anyone but me. You know, always bite the hand that feeds you.

He then ran into the washroom. Knocked a plastic container (actually it was acrylic) to the ground with a resounding smash. Thank god for old acrylics. They don’t really break. Yet.

I know something else that’s breaking.

Me.

My sanity.

My patience.

Read these sentences. Realize how short each sentence is. Hear the staccato beat that resemble the almost uneven thud of my heart. And realize that beneath these grumbles, someone really really had a bad day and wished that it all would be a dream.

Then I had to put up with people are that insanely obtuse.

Either they are insanely obtuse or they are deliberately getting on my nerves. Initially I had staunchly believed in the formal. Now, I am getting inklings of the latter. It is pure evil hidden behind a mask of innocence and PURE RETARDEDNESS.

Yes, you.

You dimwit.

You insensitive nincompoop.

If you think it is you I am scolding, then it is.

You have just pushed my day beyond the limits of horrible.

And wow, my sentences are in increasing lengths, It’s awesome.

Gah, today is such a muck of a day. Black icky yucky muck with diarrhea on top.

Screw it. Screw everything.

Worst part is that I don’t even feel justified in complaining to anyone. Because the people who are sympathetic, I usually don’t want to waste their time listening to my grouching. Then for the people who have the sensitivity of a blunt axe, there is really no point.

And besides, I also live by the motto of “suck it up”.

Wish it was that easy.

Especially when my dad is not being helpful. He is a great deal of fun when we hang out and eat yummy food together, but god, that guy is an incorrigible procrastinator.

Everything is always, “Later.”

“Later I will wash the plates.”

“Later I will go buy food.”

“Later I will watch the movie with you.”

Later is never.

Rawr.

Suck it up YY, suck it up. Stop whining like a childish numb brain.

That’s it. I decided I will do exactly that.

SUCKING IT UP.

I am gonna suck up all my frustrations until I blow up. Like KABABOOM.

Which, with some people, my patience meter has long been blown up ages and ages ago. So I am planning to ignore these people. Till my annoyance boil over.

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

That was a frustrated, virtual yell.

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Those are some virtual hairs that I had yanked out of my head.

What a horrid horrid day.

kiraknightyy

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