Gas Giant

She was tired of living in anger a constant fury alternating with helpless despair, depression blacker and bottomless. In New York she had been consumed by hatred too but there she had an enemy, there was a concrete threat, she could rage, drunk, but also laugh and dance. Liberation was possible but here what? There was no one to direct it at except the actual universe and then those who ripped her away from the entrapping comfort of life, atmosphere gravity who had thrown her out into raw unfiltered existence, in a massive construct run by automata and faceless implied humans. There was no dancing or booze and no love or hatred, the enemy was reality and she was left with an existence predicated on all she had lost. She was like a gas giant of hatred with no solid core. Gas, ice, liquid. Raging heat, pressure, geysers and storms but no substance no top or bottom, and other lives were as abject as hers was