it happened again mister, i exploded in a rage. while digging an old post out of the garden there was a guy pouring lighter fluid on his fire over and over again til the whole place was polluted and i kept looking over and watching him smiling and pouring and the flames leaping and it was like he was pouring gas on my brain and lighting it and r. said please don't and i went over anyway and said i just wondered what you're doing and he smirked and said just lighting the fire, man, and i said really, and he said, circle of life, man, circle of life, which i didn't get but it seemed a prompt for circle of death man, you know it's a pandemic? and he said i don't have time for this now, i gotta light this fire, and i said something, i don't know, you stupid moron, and he said oh that's real adult—like playing with fire in a pandemic.
mister i need you bad out here i'm going insane. 
it's not just the pandemic, and it's not just that you are stuck in that awful animal hospital and may never walk again and tears tears they may put you down and i'll never see you again, it's all this, and i can't imagine life without you, but the rage that's in me about i say injustice, stupidity cruelty indifference and hate, it shocks me cause it reminds me of my father, and his anger seemed to capricious, not altruistic, just blind rage that seemed to come out of the smallest incidents like the food coming to slow or the waitress fogetting something and him raging out the door and us following ashamed and angry at him i suppose though we could never express it like he did nor even like a kid so i think maybe that's it, where does his anger come from, where did it go? to me. and i know i am an adult but it's not how it feels, it feels like i'm a kid who just gets the brute brunt of things, of fathers and all the stupid patriarchy. 
but that asshole in the garden deserved to be cursed and shamed though he's too thick to get it i know and i look like the asshole and for my rage it is i who am shamed gnome sane.