That Nasty Wrinkle In The Fabric Of Time And Space

The are so many wonderfully ugly things to be really pissed about

To write angry words about, to spew venom over, to rail against, to get My undies in a wad over.

But I can't

Because I understand

Life really isn't all that bad

Sure, atrocities are committed in the name of some supposedly benevolent spiritual icon or another everyday, sure innocent, decent, respectful and respectable people are taken advantage of everyday, killed or maimed by madmen, ruined by conmen. 

Heinous villains of every stripe and type are running rampant over the face of the earth cleverly disguised as altruistic saints and free-love advocates, preaching peace, forgiveness, charity and all the while raping and pillaging

Life is like that

It sucks for a lot of people

A lot of the time

Injustice

Is 

Nothing 

New

The inexhaustible ability of people to be hateful, racist, spiteful Uncaring, murderous 

Evil 

Is as constant as the sun

Perennial as weeds in my garden

Reliable as the tides

Now that I'm used to it, I can relax