heart attack man

I feel like I’m on the verge. Heart pounding and fluttering all at the same time, because fuckwits everywhere just can’t hold up their end of the bargain. I’m done taking on responsibility because others can’t be responsible for themselves.

It’s not that much to ask to handle your own shit. I do it all the time. Hell, I handle other people’s shit all the time because they aren’t capable or willing to handle it themselves.

But I’m done. I’ve gone far enough down this road. It’s time to plot a way forward beyond the idiots and the assholes.

There’s no way I can endure another forty or fifty (or even five) years of dealing with myopic, selfish dickfaces whose entitlement makes them think doing whatever to whoever is fair game. Accountability is the name of the game. You want freedom? You already have it. You are in control of your own behaviour, as am I.

With freedom comes responsibility, however, and if you won’t accept yours, I’m sure not taking it on for you. Meanwhile, I’m taking my freedom and my responsibility straight to heart. If I am free, which I always am, no matter what, then I am responsible for what I do in this world. My choices are my own. Circumstances can be whatever, and other people will do what they do, but I choose, I am free, in how I respond, through action or words.

And I am sick to near death of people who behave like spoiled children because they refuse to recognize they have a responsibility to handle their own shit and to show at least a modicum of respect to those around them.

I have no doubt it will get me labelled a hypocrite, because I’ve certainly had my piece of shit moments in the past, and I accept that. I will endeavour to do it with as much class and respect as I can muster. My goal is to do better and be better than I was a moment ago. To move forward, not dwell on the past.

You fuckers nearly got me, but hell if I’m going to let you. I’m done taking on more because the idiots in the room can’t be bothered or think they have the right to impose. You’re on your own, as you always will be, no matter what.

Target: 600 words
Written: 226 words, novella: The Mungk

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