Red

Jean-François Asselin once wrote and directed a short film where different people incarnated the multiple aspects of the hero's personality. I like the concept.

I'm trying to identify who is up in arms this morning. Since last night, nine o'clock, I am enraged. I seriously thought about punching the wall but I decided it would be too inconvenient.
I had a boyfriend who punched a wall once…made a hole and badly damaged his knuckles.
In my last year of high school, one of my classmates died in a motorcycle accident on the day he turned eighteen. When his best friend heard about it, he punched the brick wall of the school...and broke his hand. But I digress.

I think it's the Frankenstein in me who's angry. The clumsy, mute, yet sensitive brute. Stung by a bee, roaring in pain but unable to know what hurt him, he wrecks havoc in the laboratory, shattering glass and turning everything upside down.
You've got to love my images.

I'm working today. You can just imagine how much opportunity Frankenstein will have to express its rage. It's one of them days when you bite the heads off of the people closest to you, who least deserve it, just because they're there. I won't do it, I'm just SAYING it's that kind of day.

I'm pissed off. I'm outraged. I'm angry. I'm furious. I'm incensed. I'm fuming. I'm steaming. I'm wrathful. I'm livid and seething.
You've got to love my vocabulary as well.

The only company I want today is that of animals. Only they could soothe me. We wouldn't talk, we would just interact. Of course, I'm working. Not a pet in sight. I wonder if I could go find an ant to keep me company.

BEHOLD MY WRATH