It's true, I like to find some sappy point in every turn of circumstance. Who gives a fuck? The other side of me wants to spit in the face of every shit head yuppy that walks across my path without saying excuse me. I could give an extra half a rat's ass about what people think of me. I notice how people take advantage of vulnerability. They crave an opportunity to pull you into their lonely world so they can give you advice. It's as if you need to listen to them in order to save yourself from whatever dilemma is at hand. How the fuck you gonna tell me shit when you ain't got a pot to piss in? Don't mistake my often "sentimental journey" for being weak minded.
There's parts of me I withhold for good reason. You can't run around jawing people and stay out of prison. However, let it be known, there are people in my life that I walk away from daily just so I can be present for my daughter. A quiet man just might have secrets. Sometimes silence is a warning. Some people don't realize how fucking disrespectful they really are. They drop little comments here and there in an attempt to dominate their fellows, to prove their superiority especially when you're down. They should be more careful where they step. Unfortunately, there's an Eddie Haskel in every social circle. They smile, kiss your ass, or pretend to pity you while talking shit out the side of their mouth. This is why asking for help can be a tricky thing. All I can say is, watch closely, while you're busy running your mealy mouth I'll be proving why I never needed your advice in the first god damn place.
A quiet rage resists adversity. It burns much slower. It weighs the risks. It survives. Stronger from the timber of calculation, a thinking man can save himself and all he loves by conscious inaction. From where I sit, I can see all the cards. So, don't fuck with me.
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