Ever know of the immediate frustration to your nervous and audial systems which are caused by running your nails (if you have any) across a chalkboard?

Ever encountered slower-than-usual traffic jamming, although you may be more than personally familiar with any length of what Lagos, Nigeria natives call “go-slows”, even for your own good? Couple that with the fact that you are already late, by the way.

Or, let’s find something that is more immediate: does your computer, despite its apparent functionality and speed, slow down to a halt because of that one program that you are using? Say, Firefox, which, after using the tabbed browsing feature a bit too much, can become the dominating process of the computer, with a tendency to jump from 40,000 to as much as 200,000 K in only a couple of minutes.

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My point?

Well, when it comes to such slow, tedious grinds, I find such to be damn near unbearable.

Obviously, I don’t have patience. Of ANY kind.

I don’t have patience with anybody or anything. For any reason whatsoever.

Why? Because then, I feel a sense of denial of that which I feel has been granted to me (even when it wasn’t). That thing which I take for granted, that which I only consider for its usefulness in the present situation, that which is so present that it is always available to my disposal.

I hate it when all such has been denied me of its presence or functionality.

Or worth.

And when it has been consistently denied me again and again, I throw it away. I flatly refuse to waste my time with it.

I may return to it in the future and try it again, but then again, who knows?

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Today, my room is filled with the corpses of such things which I’ve used, misused, or abused, all of which only to abandon at one time or another because of my dissatisfaction with any or all of them.

It’s with them in plain view and hindsight that I sleep at night in my bed.

I wake up in the morning to their presence in the corners of my bedroom, waiting for me to try them again.

However, I refuse. At present, I have other things, fascinations, and addictions to spend….only to abandon them again.

I’m such a gold digger. I am such a whore.

I am such a dilapidated old house.

I am such a torn-down soul.