Don't reply, don't ask
FUCK.
Don't ask. Don't try to ask. Those who know why know why.
I am on the verge of finding something to tear into. Punching pillows just doesn't cut it, and my hands are turning into fists whenever I don't watch, or the fingers are flexing for a throat. My legs are twitching for hefty violence, and I have a distinct feeling that I am not going to be agreeable in person tomorrow.
Don't ask. Don't try to ask. Those who know why know why.
I am on the verge of finding something to tear into. Punching pillows just doesn't cut it, and my hands are turning into fists whenever I don't watch, or the fingers are flexing for a throat. My legs are twitching for hefty violence, and I have a distinct feeling that I am not going to be agreeable in person tomorrow.