So glad you don’t work in baggage handling.
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Hahahaha, fair, fair😁
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Here have a glass of blue wine courtesy of Donald Barthelme.
Yeah. I appreciate the thoughtfulness, but despite the anger, I’m not an angry person generally. Don’t know how to put it- found soneone that makes me happy often enough that it broke the spell.
I decided to embrace the rage, and own it, and I carry it with me now, when I choose to, and focus it like a laser on activism, and being outspoken against every Trumpian asshole I meet.
The true hurt of anger is still there, because every day is a new insult to decency with Cheetolini. For a while it was nothing but pure rage, but now I just enjoy the cathartic music when I can. Sometimes it gives me a rush, sometimes the world is just too hollow.
Most of the time though, I have someone around that brings me enough joy to forget the numbness. So it’s not all bad.
I listened to both- and I prefer Pigs Must Die’s Silencer. I need a dose of rage occasionally to keep giving a shit about the rest of the world
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This is why I won’t check my concert accordion when I bring it back to Italy for repair & retuning at the factory where it was built. I plan to buy a seat for it, but that’s complicated & expensive – you have to book direct through the airline, no Orbitz or other discount sites, no two-airline flights, & you have to sit with the instrument. Furthermore, to add insult to injury, even though you’re buying two seats you only get one carry-on. But that’s nothing compared to the insult plus injury to Ballaké Sissoko’s instrument. This looks like sheer malice, combined with massive ignorance.
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I read that. I’m not sure if I’m insulted or relieved.
All I can say is if you actually knew what had happened to me besides Trump, you would be amazed I haven’t had an aneurysm yet. Trump is a small part of why I lived with true rage.
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I hear you. I think we might have similar ways of thinking. Sometimes nothing feels as good as losing yourself in a cathartic song. But I have learned that sometimes I hold on to bad feelings too long. I play and replay some ridiculous revenge fantasy over and over, and it only hurts me.
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That’s what herculean quantities of weed are for 
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Speaking of which I started noticing this week that I need to take a T-break. My tolerance is getting higher than I am. 
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This is the kind of fuckery I expect from US CBP, but what’s baffling is that it happened when he was leaving the US for France. (And they left him a message in Spanish…) I don’t begin to understand any of it.
Trump is a large part of it for me. I’m resigned to his be reelected (probably followed by at least one term of Donnie jr.), but I have no idea how I’m going to deal with it.
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Join me in my yearly pilgrimage to piss on his grave with your family?
Together, we can make sure that absolutely nothing ever grows where he is buried (of natural causes one day) 
Oh, and to be sure- I have absolutely enormous, multiple people’s worth of lifetimes of rage for him. He’s just a small part of my total, which is vast, like an ocean…
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I fear the Trump administration(s) may outlive me, as they’ll give me a rage-stroke if nothing else…
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Converge and Jane Doe are amazing catharsis. Saw them live with At the Gates once, amazing concert! What I love about heavy music in general is the variety of catharsis you can get out of it. It’s like handing off a bundle of toxic emotions to something beyond you, connecting with visceral raw music and leeching the bundle of its sharpest poisons. I understand the ocean of rage all too well but thankfully have found work I love that keeps me from feeling the world is hollow (at least not very often).
Creeping depression rage catharsis (long):
Mad at people who will never understand:
Disappointed in the world catharsis:
You get the idea.
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Extreme anger can also be a sign of an anger disorder. I used to have one but got therapy and a drug for bipolar disorder. It helped a lot.
Of course, just living in Trumpisstan causes a lot of legitimate anger.
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I hear you, RD, and I apologize for the confusion. I (among others) had to quit a job that we had really enjoyed for years because a few asses made life there unbearable. Their guiding principle was “anything you can do to bring a dark cloud to a liberal’s day” whether in the shop, on the road or hint dropped to the boss. The depression was eating me up. I’d get out and just hit the throttle, cussing into my helmet. The bike was going to be big trouble down the road and tinitis prevents me from rock rage therapy. Here’s to fortune turning a page for the better.
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I have that EXACT same story. I quit a shop in 2016 a couple days before xmas after the Trumpian assholes in my rural PA shop weaponized the American flag against me, made my work atmosphere hell (they were doing that for a while).
I outright told my boss to go fuck himself and had 2 years of a nightmare. I now make more than 50% more than what I did then. Jokes on those worthless fucks.
A vintage bmw, loads of cask strength whiskey, and the most insane metal I could find were my therapy.
The only guy that kept me sane where I worked was a guy like @xhonk- phenomenal taste in obscure extreme music, and one of only 2 liberals in that shop.
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You broke my goddamn like button.
Can we be music buddies?
Obscure Sphinx is amazing.
Wavelength. Thankfully I got out before Trump got in. One Fri nite after an awful week my buddy called me to set up telescopes on a street corner. I wept for random joy it brought. Watching real people being confronted with real beauty can reset my clock, too.
The vintage beemer is indeed good therapy. 100/7, but history now.
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Aftercare is important, don’t forget it! May your like button recover swiftly.
Definitely can be music buddies, although fair warning that for me it includes stuff like
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I’d very much like to join you in that pilgrimage, so I can take a massive dump on his grave; it’s about the only way I can adequately express my overwhelming contempt for Trumph.
Vile excuse for a human being. 
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