Chemicals, Chemical, Chemistry?

Self loathing always on hand. Well, I possess that to all ends.
I've found myself sick, sick and losing all sanity.
I was at work today, crying in the bathroom. Failure seems to linger all around me when I'm at work. I couldn't stop looking at it 13% 13% 13% 13%. What an evil little number with that face of Satan behind it. I spit on you, 13 fucking percent, my ass.
Then scroll on up to all the 40-80%. How dare you leave me behind. I thought no man was left behind? I hate my job, I hate the customers. The customers are the definition of WASTE. The onion to my eye, the sewer rats eating on a ripe decapitated torso, and the pendulum to my victim.

Second, this boy, this creature. Another reason I want to rip out my heart pound it on the desk in front of him and tell him to just fucking stab it, so we can both be bad. He's a lazy piece of shit that gets under my skin while massaging every inch of it. I can't get him out of the way cause I want him right in front of me. I've been patient and the little coward is stumbling towards me. Why I like him? Here are some pro's.
1. True gentleman
2. Adorable
3. The MALE version of me.
Fuck how do I give number 3 up? Well it should be simple since I hate me. I need to move on cause he is in quick sand in the middle of the Sahara, and I am suppose to save him. WHERE DO I START TO EVEN FIND THIS DICK?

Third, I woke up at 3 a.m. last night, or this morning, what have you. Plotting my own death. Ugh, its a thin line when you start to think of it to calm yourself down. No attention needed, just need to vent. I know this is no light note, you fools. But believe me if I don't get it out, I'll just take it out. Simple.