Philosophy is the invention of the rich

         I wish I could scream, I wish everyone could just hear me yell and shout and I could let every bit of rage out. I want to tell every single person I pass every issue I have with them. I want to become my own rage, I wish I could be a dog that could rip someone's head off. 

                The issue comes when I both have nothing to be angry for and the fact that I have no want to scream. I don't want to bite, but god, I want to so bad.

    I hate being expected to be nice, the whole expectation that being a young women comes with. Dainty and sweet. I want to tear people's head off, I have more anger in me than people think. 

    I want to tear every person who has caused me pain apart, I am finally angry at all of them

“You forget, my good man, that what the artist perceives is, primarily, the difference between things. It is the vulgar who note their resemblance.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Despair

“Let all of life be an unfettered howl. Like the crowd greeting the gladiator. Don't stop to think, don't interrupt the scream, exhale, release life's rapture.”
― Vladimir Nabokov