Spiral Out

I'm the biggest goddamn pessimist you will ever meet. And cynical. Holy God, am I cynical. Tell me anything, give me any piece of good news and I will stomp on it and ruin it and I will make you hurt and cry and I will likely enjoy it. I hate it. I hate it more than you do. My veins pulse with anger, my heart beats hatred. My brain is rage, my mind is always red. I can't do a goddamn thing about it either. I hate it. I hate my insides and I want to pull them out through my head and I want to throw them away and I want to watch them burn. I want to watch it all burn. I know where I'm going, and I know it's not going to be pretty. And what else? I'm goddamn crazy too. Off the deep end insane. I like the taste of Jameson. And I like the way it makes me feel. I could see myself going down that path. And I could see myself chasing myself the whole way down that path, yelling at myself to come back all the while sprinting in the wrong direction. It's what I've done my entire life. There's two of us in here. One is perfection. The other is in control. I am my own battle. I am Adam & Eve & the serpent, and I'm the fucking apple too. I am good vs. evil. It's here. It's inside me. I am plagued, and I don't know what to do. I need to reach over and hit the goddamn reset button. But there is none. But you better believe there's a fucking power off button. I just need to be pushed one more inch and then I can finally reach it.