kaen the destroyer

so sometimes i'm not all sugar and spice..

kaen the destroyer, part 1

sometimes i can almost feel it, a sort of gratifying pain as my knuckles sink into someone's flesh and grind up against their cheekbone.

i've only been in one fist fight, back in grade one. i got off the bus where monica had surely been tormenting me. gawd she was a bitch. at least i think so. i don't really remember her, but my mom remembers stuff like her chasing me with a stick and similar good times. i do, however, remember getting off the bus, hurling down my school bag and snarling "ok!" maybe followed by something like "let's fight." she turned around ready to take me on. quick as an adder, my fist connected with her nose sending rivulets of blood and shame oozing from her bitch face.

and that's it. not even a shove or good yelling match since then. so i guess whenever the opportunity for a fight rears its ugly head (not that it ever really happens, but i'm sure if i was looking for it, i'd find opportunities everywhere), i'm just not willing to take the gamble. i mean, i know the theoretical finesse of fighting (for example: turn the rings in or take them off, so as not to bust up my fingers). i know i'm strong, and i know i'm tough. but how can i make sure i can fight, without getting my ass kicked on the off-chance that i can't? too risky.
damn.
guess i'll have to remain a stinkin' pacifist.

kaen the destroyer, part 2

gawd i'm surly this morning. i'm praying for someone to look at me the wrong way so i can go postal, sink my pretty rings into their stupid face. smash their forehead * in with an unexpected head butt and bury my steel toes into their jaw, gut and kidneys as they sink into a bloody, weeping mass on the floor.

only at the asterisk, the streetcar pulled into the subway station, and i got up and stepped back, genuinely smiling and letting others off before me.
i'm so full of shit.
sigh.