I feel like a caged feral dog. Seething to tear out someones throat and make a break for where it's safe, but I don't know where safe is... or if safe is what I want.

But I know, from the outside looking in, that there isn't any outside situation making me feel this way. Life is good, and definatly better than it's ever been.

It's all internal, it's all chemical reactions to a lack of sleep or food. Perhaps its the nine-hour work day, stress induced emotions.

I scrutinize myself, somehow bypassing the paradox of the subject being the examiner, and vice versa. I can see what I do as a I do it. Like some kind of observer, yet seperate from the observed.

I see myself acting irrationally, but have little control when the chips are down and the stimuli begins to cause these reactions.

It's like starring at a computer screen...

<FATAL PROTECTION ERROR>

"What the fuck?"

Just like that, it happens, and all I can do is bang my head on the metaphorical keyboard of my mind, and try to restart.