When There's No Filter to Be Found and Emotions Fly High

I saw my grandfather alive for the last time yesterday. I don't want to get into the specifics of this calamity. I'm no asking for anyone to hand me a tissue and a hug. I say this is what happened because this is what awoke the fire in me that normally lies dormant.
Having seen plenty of episodes of Criminal Minds, I am aware that many a crime can occur when an unsub is provoked by a devastating episode in their lives thus triggering a psychotic break and now the dirt bag who deliberately stole said unstable person' sparking spot is dead.
Today I understand that sentiment. Though I won't be harming anyone. The only time I kill is with kindness, but man, the tiniest little things are ticking me off right now.

I'm so mellow and live and let live on the average day but today I would like to tell the meth heads who are bitching to the guy behind the counter at the 7-11, this afternoon, about how the coffee at 3am is terrible and it's terrible every night when they come in...

Okay. First of all, why are you drinking coffee when you clearly are running on a fresh batch of crank, delivered special from Redding? And do you realize that I, who was waiting, while thoughts of attacking you with the Marilyn Monroe lighters that sat at the counter and simultaneously losing Jesus points for wanting to find your dealer and sell him to the local Mormon chapter, just want to get some gas and a lotto ticket. But no, I am forced into the dilemma of a couple of tweekers who disliked the coffee beans that 7-11 chose to roast for their pedigree, junkie, middle of the night, on their way to by color by numbers at walmart, crowd. And don't make me understand you. For this moment, I don't want to have compassion for your humanity. I want to pretend that you have been sprung from the belly button lint that was abandoned at a local truck stop.

I think I need to be allowed to be angry and hit someone. Or maybe I need a hug. Hard to say. Enter at your own risk.

In Case My Voice is Lost in Bad Reception

Will she stay?
Will she go?
Who's to say?
No one can know?

 I hate being at someone else's mercy.

I need to be financially and emotionally independent.
If God reads blogs, I'd like to cash in my karma points
and get the ball rolling and fast.

 Read this blog, God in case my voice is lost in bad reception.

God, do it for my dogs if it can't be done for me.

To be specific, I'd like the path of least resistant from here on out.
I'd like to work somewhere where the employees and employers are
like family.

I'd like a savings account.

I'd like to earn my own income.

I'd like to have money and not because someone died.

Show me how.
Show me how.

Let it be now.

Open the door.
Usher me inside.
Let the road ahead
be a much smoother ride.

I want my own home
where my dogs are received
the 3 of us finally reprieved.

I pray.