Half the Lived Life

He felt a rage that demanded guns and powerful punches and an enraged calmness to command the means to all that he wanted, analyze it, execute it, and let the room be awed for a moment, before the little awed ones screamed wide-eyed and the cops arrived and families wept and prisoners raped, at the utter peace of the bellow that came with the strike and shook away the tiny bits stored in tons before and now emptied for a moment to pave the way for regret to set in and wipe away the awe and only a moment left till it had all blown out into the universe to have not a lasting impact but a fraction of a second of forgettable brotherhood of the vast minority of enraged assholes sensing the awe. But instead he smiled and turned away, hoping the man wouldn’t be offended by such an indecent gesture as turning away.

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