My brother. Oh, My Asshole Brother. He has tormented me all my life, and the way he disrespected me at Grandmother's cremation was the last straw. That motherfucker is dead to me.
And yet I am consumed by rage over him right now. I don't know when I started thinking about him, but over the past, oh, several days now all I have thought about is how I want to get the opportunity to throw something in his eyes, or punch him in the face, or take a knife and take out his eyeballs. Can you tell that I hate him?
That has coincided with a feeling of weakness on my left side. I first detected it when I caught myself fantasizing about hurting My Asshole Brother. I snapped out of this red mist of violence because the left side of my chest would start hurting. Normally you would think that would be an indication to stop thinking about ways to kill Your Asshole Brother, but he's still alive, so I have to defend myself and my respect, and so I continue to fantasize about hurting this piece of shit, and then I stop because I'm wincing over this throbbing I feel underneath my left arm, probably closer to my back than my front.
It's gotten worse over the days. I feel some tingling in my arms and fingers, and from time to time I feel pain down my butt, hip and leg, all on the left side. The pain has lingered the same way my violent ideations of My Asshole Brother remain foremost on my mind. Now it could be other things -- sitting too long at work, eating spoiled tomatoes and eggs -- but my theory is that whenever I get into these rage trances my blood pressure goes up. And that's neither healthy nor good.
So if one day I am ever found dead in my bed, it's probably because I thought about killing My Asshole Brother so intensely that I gave myself a heart attack. Just to let y'all know.
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