I'm sure far more unusual than missing someone you despise is despising someone you miss. Like an infarction (Whatever the hell that happens to be; I feel no guilt in stealing it from the bloodthirsty writing staff on House, M.D.) in my capacity to care, there is one entity who continues to stand against my degregating pride, annoying me to no end, and surely forcing me back into whatever emotional confinement I thought I had broken free from. The pedestal I hold myself against in mentality and fervor is none other than a lopsided misogynist, an arse if ever I associated myself with such a word. I desperately desire the opportunity to thrash violently, back and forth in my antagonistic struggle against this hero, or my heroic struggle against he, the antagonist.
I'm not sure which is which.
Does it matter?
(Seemingly) Nothing triggered this bout into unknown exclamation and bitterness, but I can't help but think it's been looming near the surface, waiting for a moment of calm, complacent thought to leap up and attack viciously.
Enough of this. The unnamed soul should just go die, but not before I figure out whether or not he's the good guy and I'm pure evil, or vice versa.
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