Psychic Heat

Of course, there are those who try my patience, regardless of the subtle warnings I give them. I understand that each person has to be handled in a different way. When heat is infused with years of resentment...that creates a poison of such toxicity that I do not know if an antidote exists. A phone call in the middle of the night ended up in a shouting match. And now heat is racing through my veins, and I know I might just end up taking a long stroll along the reservoir tonight. I will structure my thoughts and hopefully tame the fires raging in my heart. It seems impossible that anyone can feel such a broad range of emotions all at the same time. *sigh* Kenneth's story of the nails and fence comes back to haunt me at occasions like this. Ah, I'm starting to feel more human. You know what this calls for? Long Island Tea. My nightmares of death still plague me, and I still have the complexities of the crush of humanity around me to deal with. *sigh* I dreamt of the man I watched die in front of my eyes. Surrounded by shattered glass, legs twisted at an unnatural angle, blood pooling around him. I cannot even begin to convey the sorrow and pain I feel for him. I hope the angels carried him away on wings of light and love. They say the angel of death is one of the most beautiful. *sigh* These problems drain me. Well, since they've managed to douse my fires for the time being, I can safely say they do some good after all.
Azrael, stop haunting me with visions of death.