A dimension of pure hate

Gentle Readers,

It started somewhere between getting Lydia onto her bus and getting on to my own. There was this blackness that settled on me, a lump of frigid charcoal where my heart should be. It wasn't the weather. The overcast of the early morning was breaking up and blue sky was appearing.

However, the opposite was happing in my head. Huge black thunderclouds circling with the ominous rumbling of thunder off in the distance. There was no lightning. No release of this energy.

As I'm sure you can imagine, this emotive state did not find it self mollified by goodness of humanity as very little can be found on an 8am commuter bus. So I stood, surrounded by people who wouldn't get out of the way and hoped that they would not be struck dead by the waves of Hate radiating from me.

I tried eating when I got to work. Carbs didn't work. Protein didn't work. Fruit didn't work. It felt like low blood sugar, but none of the usual remidies worked. I skipped the potential endorphins of Kickboxing thinking that the confusion associated with extra low blood sugar would not be a good thing, however, I'm still not convinced that this was the right thing.

Maybe hitting things would have been helpful, but really I didn't feel angry, just misanthropic.

Eventually I ended up getting Cortejo to pick me up and take me home where I hid in my room and finished the work I could not manage at the office due to the distraction of clenched teeth.

I'm still running on hate fumes and I don't know why.

This sucks.