Hatreds Magnum Opus

Stop it
take that and do this and stuff to things.
Hatred for things past that shouldn’t have consequence
anymore
but
still do…

Bullies, rotten people, guarded under the
guise of “He’s got a bad home life”, or some stupid excuse.
I guess that means I have to suffer for his bad home life…
Excuses for the bullies, they always excuse the bad and belittle the innocent.
They can call you skinny, at least you’re not fat.
As if it’s ok to be harassed because of your slightness, your nothingness.

The spite in that valentine: “Happy Valentine’s Day, I hate you”.
You didn’t have to give me a valentine, we’ll, you did because
the whole class had to.

“Why do you smile so much?”, is it a problem to smile?
Was it wrong of myself to enjoy a smile to brighten up my
otherwise terrible day?

Go ahead, put that knife to me because I won’t do the dishes,
I did the rest of the assignment.
For years, I wanted to burn your house down but didn’t because,
I’m not an arsonist, I’m not a violent person, but I hated you.

Still nurturing these thoughts, still giving them a home
after years
and years
and years
of thinking about words and actions that
happened and I can’t get rid of them
can’t dissolve the memory of them.

Magnum Opus, Latin for “great work”
Hatreds great work, no longer so great.
No longer as extravagant.
I’ll leave it in that rubbish over there.
Never return.

Shouldn’t Have

Shouldn’t have opened that folder.
Shouldn’t have double-clicked those images.
Shouldn’t have subjected myself
to that filth,
that desperation,
that humiliation.

I didn’t expect it to consume me
not at that age.
I didn’t expect it to become
something of regret.

Years of embarrassment.
Years of feeling guilty.
Years of feeling low.
Years of feeling worthless.

Negating
not only myself,
but thousands of others as well.
All starting with opening a folder.
Double-clicking an image.

Gifted

You called me stupid,
punished me for forgetting
my multiplication tables.
The “gifted”, “advanced”
bullies if you ask me.
An institution geared to
putting me down at least
that’s how I felt.

They’re better than you
you’re just a speck.
Cementing my place,
my perceived stupidity.
At that ripe,
impressionable age.
Age when “you’re stupid”
really makes an impact.

Put the non-gifted down,
proclaim their
insubstantialiality.
Tell me I’m nothing.
“I’ll give him 5 seconds”,
they jeered at me,
a skinny guy.

“He must be gay”,
“Loser, poser, idiot”
“he must be stupid”,
“don’t throw the ball to
him…
He won’t catch it anyway.”

Years later
using my standardness,
my learned stupidity,
not living off
the preconceived
notion of superiority.
Gave me a clear mind
to complete my studies
to prove my worth.
To claim that
I am something of worth.
Not just a loser.
Not the scum
you told me I was.

Where are your gifted?
Where are those
you held in such high regard?
Fallen?
That’s too bad.

Maybe if you held them down,
spitting on them,
rubbing their face in the
dirt.
Maybe they’d have something to prove.
But they don’t,
you already proved it
for them.

Dear Upstairs Neighbors

Dear Upstairs Neighbors,

Why can’t you just be a little quieter? Don’t you realize that I have to go to work in the morning?
Yet you continue to make as much noise as you please as long as you want.
It doesn’t seem to matter what the hour is 2:00am, 12:00pm?
Doesn’t matter to you, you’re loud when you feel like it.
You’ve proved that you don’t care about anyone else.
Do you realize that other people live in this complex?
We’d rather not have to hear your bed squeaking when were trying to get to sleep.
Have you heard of WD-40?
Also, I’m sure you’re content not working and living off of “hard earned” money,
I’d love to be able to have that luxury.

Sincerely,
Your neighbor directly below you

Stabbed By An Origami Crane

Sometimes you just have to ask yourself “Is this worth worrying about?”. That means you can filter out worries and things that could potentially make you upset or angry. Is this something that I want to waste my time getting angry at or worry about? Time is a precious resource after all, who wants to waste it!

Besides, getting angry/worrying isn’t always worth it, especially if you get attacked by an origami crane. That happened to me tonight, I have these origami cranes that I suspended from the ceiling and I walked into one of them and the beak stabbed me in the eye. And it hurt!!!! I just fell down comically and laughed instead of getting angry or worrying about it (I don’t think I would have gotten angry at it anyways). It was pretty funny.

Stopping Traffic

Sometimes when I’m driving, I imagine myself waiting, stopped at a green light. I can see it now. A line of cars behind me, honking. The drivers getting angrier and angrier with each passing moment. And me, I’m just sitting there with a wide smirk on my face. Enjoying every moment of road rage coming from behind. I feel the power of putting people in their place and spurring road rage in others.

Then, I think to myself, why don’t I do that? What’s stopping myself from just stopping my car dead in it’s tracks with a bunch of drivers behind me.

It takes a moment but I then realize that I don’t have a death wish. While intentionally angering the other drivers would bring me great joy, supreme happiness, a sense of fulfillment and revenge on road rage, I am afraid I would probably get killed. I’m sure some person, would come up to my car, smash my window and beat me to death or stab me or something.

And I also realize that stopping traffic for the reasons I’ve described above is probably road rage itself (I do feel like the other drivers are bullying me though, even though they don’t know me and I don’t know them). Still…

It would be so pleasing…