Decisions

Whoever implied/said growing up was fun/easy needs his nads removed in the most painful way possible.

It ain't easy. Or fun.

And right now, I feel like bloody murder on the one hand, and a painful resignation on the other.

Some things are best served cold. And unannounced.

Decisions.

Should I, should I not?

Who would suffer?

How do I clean up the mess after? 'Cos I know I'd have to do it. Assholes just shit and leave the shit to decompose on its own. Or hope someone would clean up after them. They wouldn't be assholes if they took responsibility for their own actions now, would they?

Then again, perhaps I should let assholes have a taste of their own medicine now, no?

Damage control.

How could I minimise the damage that would be done?

Or should I just let all hell break lose?

Not like I have much to lose, anyway. What's there left to lose?

I've built up my life from scratch once before, I can do it again.

And again. And again.

I don't like getting out of my relative comfort zone right now, but hell, if that's what it takes, that's what I'd do.

There is only one way for redemption. There is but one answer. I will make no more concessions. I've made too many too often as it is. At too many people's expense.

My mistake was taking too long to make my stand. And being too kind.

Explanations are for pussies who use it as another way of making another million excuses. A coward's form for being 'the wolf in sheep's clothing.'

The explanation is only worthy when followed up with the necessary deed.

Spare me the BS. Really. I've known too many NATO (No Action Talk Only) members in my 20 odd years in my life as it is.

It's disgusting.