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10-23-01 - 1:25 a.m. Ahem. Anger is easier to deal with when it's personified. Dear Life, I hate you. It wasn't enough to be forever picking on me, was it? You had to go and dump shit on the people I love, didn't you? Just when I'm beginning to build up the strength to make a real life for myself, free of all the crap I let you put me through before, free of all the chains you made me think were good for me, just when I'm finally beginning to like who I am, you try to fuck everything up again. Why did you have to mess with Rob and Bryan? How dare you hurt the two most important people in my life. Rob already was having to face depression. It's pretty terrifying at first, and it doesn't really get much easier even after having it for years. But you had to go and make him feel like less of a man. He's a bigger man than any other male I ever knew. But you saw that I had figured this out. You saw that it doesn't matter to me whether or not Rob can have kids, especially since I hate them anyway. This made you angry. You had to get back at me some other way. How childish are you, anyway? So you went for Bryan. My real-life Jack McFarland, my replacement best friend, my buddyroo. You sent two ignorant asswipes to tag his car. "Fag." "Sinner." "Pussy." Is that the best you can do? Luckily Bryan didn't seem too worried. But it could just be a farce. Those are cruel words. They're the kind of stupid, moronic labels used by cowards to get their message of fundamental idiocy across. For what purpose? None. None, except to hurt. But I know you weren't after Rob. You weren't after Bryan. You wanted me. Why? Is it because you think I won't give up? I gave up a long time ago. I forfeited this game. I was tired of playing in an unfair tournament so I turned the coin tails-up, in your favor. I buried my head in the sand so you couldn't see me cry. I was frustrated, angry, absolutely fed up with your tactics. I called "foul" a million times, but the referee had gone missing. The "Referee" never existed. I stepped out of the goal box but you still shot pucks at my face. You took away my mask and my gloves and my armor. I was defenseless save for my wits, and one too many pucks to the head had dulled my senses and left me reeling. What you didn't account for was my spirit of competition. Don't you remember? I've been number one, the best, untouchable, in every single thing I've ever done in my entire life. I always win. I don't know any other way to live. It might take me a while, I might take a few breathers, I might slip on the ice, but I'll get up, bruises and all, chip the ice from my skates, and get on with the game. I've spent far too many minutes, far too many years, in the penalty box. I'm strapping on my armor, pulling down my mask, sliding my hands into my gloves, grasping my stick firmly in my scarred but capable hands. I've got my sights set on that goal. I don't know what exactly I'm aiming for just yet, but I know I deserve the multitude of praise that will greet me, and I deserve that trophy. You deserve to be slammed up against the wall and beaten with a stick. But I won't waste my time on you. You're just not worth it. I'm tired of playing this game with you. I'm growing up, finally. I'm moving on. I'm not playing in the minors anymore. I've moved on to the big leagues. I have a supportive team backing me up, superb coaches, and thousands of encouraging fans. All this against you and your puny attempts at my sanity. You might have won, were I anyone less competitive. But I like to win. I love to win. I never lose. Don't believe me? Well you're about to find out for yourself. You've been warned. Now get ready for the worst defeat you'll ever know. And yet, unlike you, I'm a good sport. I'm not going to waste my energy laughing and spitting in your face once I've won. I'd rather use that time to shine my trophy while my teammates and fans are carrying me around on their shoulders. It's time for our face-off, Life. Are you ready to lose? *footnote: I have never been to an ice hockey game in my entire life. Field hockey, yes, I kick ass in it.
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