Sadness and the death of furniture

Today started out bad, as I had to go to hell and didn't get out of there until alomst noon. And it was not the greatest day because I have had the words of a young friend stuck in my head since yesterday afternoon, but that is something I am not sure I want to forget. So, I needed to work out some frustrations and also make some room up here, so I decided to do some rearranging. After moving the drawing table back in here on tuesday I now have moced it down to the other end of the room. It changed places with the bed.

In order to do that I had to remove the old, almost worthless, recliner. I remember when we dragged the thing up the steps my dad told me that if it ever went down it was going down in pieces. So, with the help of knife, wrench, screwdriver, and big hammer, I took the time to not so carefully destroy said recliner and make little pieces out of it. That helped my mood a little bit, but not as much as i had hoped destroying something would.

I told a friend this morning, one of my last remaining friends around here, that I could almost feel my old dark self returning to take its grip on my black heart. In some ways I don't mind that it would happen, but in some ways it would not be the same as before. No matter what happens I have the thoughts of the five best hearts I have ever known that will keep me from losing control to my dark side as I had done for so long.

My mother told me that if I was to lose someone, I should go out and find someone else. Not going to happen, and not just because its not that simple. Especially with my tiny little problem of hating people. I suppose I will be a little better once I get the thoughts of wanting to rip people to little shreds out of my head.

Shaggy