I'm Angry, Glen

I'm angry Glen.

I’m angry at Glen. He’s always polite to me and I’m angry.

He shouldn’t challenge the pain of my mistake. It’s my disaster. It’s my learning.

Glen is constantly caught up in his paperwork, leveraging the isolation of the world for his own economic gain.
Not mine.
No, my pain is my own. And Glen will not take it away from me with his polite beliefs and his culture of paperwork.

I’m angry, Glen.
You tell me the youth of this world shouldn’t be angry. That I am young and ignorant and I haven’t experience and I know nothing.

What do you know, Glen? You haven’t seen the world through the eyes of anyone but yourself since you were born and I hate you for it.

How dare you try to take my passion.

How dare you mock my pain with your dismissive polite dares and passive aggressive chortles, your deafness.

You don’t know me, Glen. And you don’t know my people.
We are strong and we are hurting.
We are angry and we are learning.

I know people, Glen.

You know, the ones you’re trying to escape.

We’re full of piss and vinegar and we’re gonna piss on you and yours.

You know nothing, Glen. You can’t take peoples’ pain from them.
It’s my struggle.
Capitalize on that, Glen.