The only thing that has been really constant today is the will to hit something. Hit it so hard that my knuckles crack open. It it so hard that it breaks. And scream. Just cream my lungs out. Just... Rage. Or is it? I don't know. I don't think so, not really.
I don't know who I am. I look myself in the mirror and I never look like I thought I would look. Never. I never see what I expect to see. What I want to see.
And that is the least of my problems.
If I had had the possibility, this would be a day when I played russian roulette with myself.
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