Thursday, June 11, 2009

La Traviata

Once you tell someone something they share some of the weight of this knowledge. Supposedly this is why telling people things is such a relief.

Usually I'm good at taking on these burdens. I'm a spilt milk kind of person, I really find little use in worrying about something I can't change. But the older I get, the bigger the knowledge, the more it weighs me down until eventually I must surely be crushed.


And what of the people who tell me these things? If I'm struggling to carry my own piece of the problem, how on earth are they staggering on with a boulder strapped to their back? I marvel, I really do. They think they're weak. I'm frankly amazed by their ability to keep walking.


Just let me know when I'm allowed to destroy all these troublemakers. I've got a lot of hate just waiting to decimate anyone who bothers any of my friends. In fact I've been told I can be horrifically cruel with just a few well aimed comments.


A true Pistola.

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