workplace politics

i am on fire...i have become shiva, the destroyer, many headed, many armed, darkly gloating and thirsty for vengeance. my enemies are like stinking insect mush caught in the tread of my boot. their mush offends me and so my golden lightening strikes their gooey remains and they become ashes in the wind, no good even for fertilizer. all of their cycles are truely ended now, and for eternity. there is only blackness and the musical value of their keening and wailing. i burn their loved ones at the stake and force them to watch. and i eat their lunch, too. yummy.

shiva doesn't even know what a corner is. shiva asks: "if there really was a corner why would you allow it to share your dimension?" shiva has no need of the smooth round things. shiva has demolished the kabuki theatre. it is only a legend now. the old people talk about it, but they are so lost too...

enjoy your vengeance. it is nourishing to the soul sometimes to say "i told you so." and "it was me all along" these are sweet words. who is king? who is shiva? who is your daddy now, bitches? i use your backs for ladders, pukes.