I am like a peanut can.

You know, those cans of "peanuts" that were continually offered to you  in grade school on April Fool's Day? The ones that seemed like innocents canisters containing salty nuts, but when opened, you were utterly exasperated to discover plastic snakes being catapulted at you face. It gets you every time. Doesn't it?

Well, this evening I would like to compare myself to one of those poignant pranks. I am one of those types of people who subconsciously bottles things up deep, deep into my inner most being, inside a cage that has too many locks to count and no keys to relieve them of their duties. It is here that the stresses of my life go to rest for only short moments in my very short life. It is here that the spontaneous combustion occurs, and some how, some way, the locks, chains and weldings are broken, only to release these demons that have been longing for emotions to feed off of. It is here that the gremlins begin to eat away at any feeling they can reach, and it is here that the damn will breech. The dam will breech and the river will flow. The waves will run to where only God knows. And it is here where these wretches, these imps, take control of the last feeling I possess.

So what I am to do, but surprise every one of you? With an explosion of snakes in your face?