I wanted to write about something transcendental, sublime, self-affirming, life-affirming. Thoughts that were happy and deep, and resonant with tones of what I think of as the 'New Me', the 'New Me' meaning the organized me, the one with a clearer direction and a less cluttered route of getting there. Life has a way of making you want to throw your thoughts along with yourself out the window though, however part of the 'New Me' asserted itself and though the thoughts and the positive intentions ended up foregone, I ended up a safe distance away from the ledge which doesn't mean that I don't feel like tearing something to shreds for it's all I can do not to take an innocent book into my hands and crush its pages into pulp or as a healthier alternative outlet to my rage and my pain attempt to put my first through the bathroom door, i'm instead, tearing up the keyboard with my taps, and setting the screen on fire with my words, which in retrospect, is probably less harmful (provided the offending parties don't read this), and which may cause my anger to metamorphasize into a resolution of sorts. Besides, aside from drowning myself in iced tea, having downed four glasses as we speak (and i'm still not drunk), and 'redesigning' myself by signing up a new identity in a site where I used to put up my extremely amateurish graphic art attempts, i'm running out of ways to soothe myself.

Apparently this isn't working very well, i'd better let off before I do more damage. Unthought of words upset me.