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And Tuesdays bring forth an insipid pensiveness of befuddled emotions wracked with an ever growing hatred for nothing in particular; just one of those days when you could let your inner serial killer unleash expecting it to wreak havoc only to know it likes arranging daisies and baking cookies..so much for all the pent-up malice spreading in tributaries of malevolent displeasures which sadly lack a converging point of contempt, and all the venom fizzles out in wisps of directionless smoke.

One of those days when you can't decide whether you want to a poison loved one out of sheer irritation of loving someone or slash your wrists out of the sheer displeasure of seeing wrists.