"libary libary"

They say, "Stop being a bitch," as if one's level of bitchtasticness is defined as a scalar entity. It lies on the scale, where my bitch units are exceedingly high. I am apparently accelerating towards a bitch level akin to that of Leighton Meester in Gossip Girl, so that the derivative of this function explodes towards a positive infinity.

Even so, I apologize for continuing, for my emotional excesses spill out this virtual page like the geyser of blood from a dissected aorta from a patient with extremely high blood pressure. And so, if you will, sever my thoughts from my body so that you may examine them on their own without referring to the corporeal I.



"Libary libary." This prose reminds me of that scene in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where Jim Carrey tells Kate Winslet he hates that she says, "libary." Pent up hatred curdles like ascites, then boils to the surface like how a flutter board held underwater will shoot up for air. It cannot breathe yet it yearns to be held above two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen; the density of foam requires it be on top just like emotions float above reason.



So then if I cannot acquiesce to these demands that hold me hostage, I must find an escape. It's much too easy to drop into depression, alcohol, bipolarity, emo-ness, violence; we look upon these facets of the human condition with disdain. "Snap out of it!" we say, because we do not value weakness. "What kind of man are you?"



Escape means puppies.



Escape means soft things.



Escape means video games.



It means everything except for facing the truth, because the truth is too ugly and rarely wants to come out and play. The truth appears like one of those old Westerns shootouts: The town locks its doors and windows but peers out from behind them to watch Everett Hitch and Randall Bragg shoot each other down. It only knows that one man wins while one man dies.



Well ain't that the truth.

So go on, do your worst. Go ahead: "Libary libary" "inanimate fucking object" "don't go all 818 on me". Sticks and stone may break my bones but words will always shield me.