My Hate's a Prism

This quiet feeling of rage lately that I just can't shake.

It's a lot of things tied together.

It's so easy to go a little mad when you're waiting for a phone call. A phone call that could change your life for the better. A phone call that could catapult your career to another level.

It should be an exciting, hopeful time, but it is unpleasant to be at the mercy of a phone call. A call which may or may not come at any time. A phone call that has no firm deadline. My future is being held hostage by a phone call.

What happens if it all works out? What happens if I get this thing that I've been struggling to get for years?

I guess I'd be happy. But I have a sense that it would be something darker than that.

Vindication. Vengeance. Revenge.

It's like this win would represent a message sent to everyone who didn't believe in me. To everyone who believed in me but didn't stick around.

Listen, you fuckers, you screwheads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum, the cunts, the dogs, the filth, the shit. Here is a man who stood up.

I sometimes think about everything I've lost and it makes me angry.

Don't call it a comeback. It's something less friendly.

I'm grateful for everything I've got but I really need this win right now. No more fucking around. It's time to exit the chrysalis stage. It's time for me to level up.