The Obstructionist.

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Now, on this post I report that I am on edge as my fucking shrink has remanded me a week from getting my prescription filled in terms of anti-anxiety meds.  Already, these past few hours I don’t feel like myself. I feel too sharp. Sleeping will not be easy so I had to resume drinking alcohol which I had almost quit for two months to settle myself. This doctor. His poverty-stricken practice. Fuck him. Deny me needed medicine to balance out myself and keep me even in mood in my life, fucker. I need to see someone new. I have no sentiment toward that shit-heel of a doctor. Time to find somebody else. For my own good. Somebody who offers solutions and doesn’t reiterate my problems as if I don’t know I have them. Where is my breakthrough? Where is my guidance? Fuck this guy. I am livid. What a racket! What a hustle! I’m through with waiting. I’m using my edge and cutting a swath first thing tomorrow. No more restraint. No more near neurotic contemplation. I’m ramming my square peg down every hole until something fits, hell or high water nothing will stop me ever from now on fuck this and fuck me and fuck everything I would tear this planet in two and drink the blood of all just to have that one moment of control for the first time in my fucking life. HAIL SATAN!!! I am free of my shackled mind. I will ACT. FUCK EVERYTHING AND DO. I will move onward and forward like a shark and never look back because I am not a loser. I will be out there in the world doing what I want and no one will be allowed to stop me. I have teeth. Stay away, The Obstructionist!

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The Obstructionist.

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