Rules make me mad. When I'm mad I rebel. Rebellion is a way of life. Not an action.
Everyday I drive around town and get mad because I'm always being told to stop. I choose what to do. Not anyone else.
In the street i met Dominic. His skin is a dark color. Everytime I look at it I can't help but imagine more.
Finally, laying in his bed he recalls when I was driving in my car and yelled at a stop sign. "when im mad my movements become anger and thrashing." He smirks and pulls something up from under his bed. He refuses to show me it but 5 minutes into it he pulls it up and I look at it and immediately rip his shit up. I thrash and push and pull. Rules make me mad. Seeing a stop sign automatically jumps me into action. I slide in and out and scream as I use him as my toy to take out my anger. I'm on top. My movements show the anger inside me and I rip up the stop sign and shriek as he penetrates not only my anger but also me.
