Angry? Me? Pssh, never.

Alright, the truth.
Yes I'm angry.
No, not just angry... I'm fucking pissed off.
I guess because I've never been able to express my anger, I've always had to tone it down and put a fake smile on my face and be like, "No! Nothings wrong, everything's fine."
Reserved?
Maybe.
Why?
Because that's how I've survived all these years, upset wasn't wanted or accepted.
So just act happy.
That's the way it is.
I'm always told if you're not happy you should still be a smiling ray of sunshine, no matter how ticked off you are.
So I'm always swallowing my anger, or pain.
Sometimes it burst through at times, but that's because the bottle can only be so full.
But it never goes away, it's eating away at me.
I just want to scream and smash my fist into the wall until they bleed.
Then maybe I'll feel some release. 
But I can't or don't.
I can't just ruin the walls and I can't just scream, the neighbors would probably have a fit and call the cops. Or just think I'm mental.
Oh wait, they probably already think that, but how should I know since I never see and or talk to them?
Not my fault everyone here is unsocial, but who am I to bitch? I'm not the social butterfly either.
But at least I try when I see them, I might as well be a fucking rock in their path for all they care.
But we're not bothering with the neighbor's right now, we're talking about my anger which wants to spill over and cause pain and or destruction for all the years it's been building up.
Unhealthy?
Maybe, I dunno.

Liam tells me I should just beat the shit out of something, a chair, or something. Just take a bat and beat it into teeny tiny little broken pieces.
But I can't do that, nope..
I'm supposed to be happy sun--shiny princess.
Sometimes... I used to wish, still do, that people would get into a fight with me. Just so I'd have an excuse to beat the living shit out of something.
See, I'm a mean bitch.
Most people don't believe it.
But it's true.

I honestly just want to smash my fist into someone's face and hurt them...
Not a healthy thought, but at least I haven't ever actually done it... right?
Well, I've hurt people. But it was always in "fake/play" fights.
And I honestly never meant to hurt them, it's just I got a little too excited or they did and we'd hurt each other on accident.
Normally it was them and not me. *cough*
Like my friend Zach and I, when I first moved to the dreaded Woodlands.
Well I don't really remember what started it, but I guess it was kind of a I'm as tough as you kind of thing...
Because I've always been a tough bitch and I'd never really lived in suburbs before, or been around bitches who are just so darn right pathetic before.
Most of my friends are guys, if that helps explain.
It's always been that way.
But anyway, so he and I, well we used to get into these "endurance" type fights.
Whoever gave up first was the LOOSERRR...
We'd kick each other in the shins and such until one of us was crying mercy.
Good times...
But yeah one day we got a little too excited and I kind of accidentally broke his knee cap.
Heh.
I felt bad, and still do.
So, my advice to youuu.
Never get into mercy kick fights on a trampoline.
It will probably just end badly, like it did that time..
He never told anyone I did it, he just mysteriously came back from the hospital with crutches and no one knew why.
Not even his parents.
Hell, I was 14 or 15 at the time?
We're still good buddies too.

I guess I got a little side tracked from what I've been talking about.
Well not completely, but if I didn't go all off-track-random in this post.
I'd probably just be cussing the world, well not exactly the world.
Just the people in it.
Kind of like a raging fit of absolute pissed-off-ness.
So yeah!
Mental?
Maybe...