ROAR.

I'm mad.

Fuming.

Enraged.

Pissed off.

Angry.

Hating.

Loathing.


And here I thought the whole adolescent "No One Understands Me" cliche has outplayed itself.

Guess I thought wrong.

Nobody in the vicinity of my surroundings has enough emotional compassion to even remotely try to understand what it is that's eating at my insides. Not even now and I doubt if they'll come around to understanding me.

But whatever.

I walk alone anyway. So none of that makes a difference.

The anger will pass.

Though I doubt the pain will.