Memorial

Today is the approximate one-year anniversary of the day my brother died.

No, he's not really dead, merely dead to me, which is for all intents and purposes the same thing.  Interestingly, my anger toward the girl has faded.  She is, after all, merely young and stupid.  I have no particular feeling toward her one way or the other.

My wrath for the cocksucker metaphorically buried to the left is everlasting, however.  He knew what he was doing every step of the way, and he willfully and purposely betrayed me in the most base and selfish manner possible.

So, just in case you read this blog from time to time, let me just reinforce to you that you are a piece of dogshit, and I will dance an Irish jig on your grave when you are finally, mercifully, removed from this planet.  If you think this is irrational or that I should just let it go, allow me to point out the supreme arrogance of fucking me over and then dictating how I should react.

Fuck you.  I hope happiness eludes you until the day the worms come marching, because you don't deserve any better.