The Poison's Killer

I hate it when I'm the mostly sober one trying to keep a room full of drunks from tearing each other's throats apart.

Mostly because when some people get drunk, they get aggressive for no damn reason.

And I hate trying my hardest to keep my own aggression at bay because this dumbfuck is looking at me in a way that's only done when you're wantin' to box...and he wouldn't do this to you sober, because you're cool with each other, he's just not thinking rationally...

...and I hate when you've got close friends almost swingin' on ya too. Lookin' at you with their veins throbbing, over some fuckin' girl. Especially when you're not even the one who fucked up. When you're the one who knows how to keep his fuckin' hands to himself. Who has enough respect to NOT be fucking one of your friends' ex-girlfriends and doing the public display of affection in said friend's apartment while you're all drinking.

I hate holding back my own aggression when so much of it is being thrown my way unjustifiably...

...I don't fuckin' need alcohol to get aggressive.

Weaklings. Can't even hold their alcohol. It seems as if every time I'm the "sober" guy outta the bunch, I'm keeping people from jail cells, bodily injury and potentially worse hurt feelings than would exist under current conditions.

FUCK, I need to sleep. But I can't. My brain is suddenly back in "Conjuring Up the Band Name" mode. Which is definitely more exciting than "Trying to Bring Rationality to Emotional Drunken Dumbfucks" mode.

Exponentially.

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