Seething In Anger.

I'd like to think I'm a chilled out individual.
I don't get angry when someone insults me to my face,
basically, I don't get angry very much at all.

To illustrate my point;
in Secondary School, I've only ever gotten
pissed off in public once, to the best of my memory,
it wasn't a pretty sight. Not when you've got a loud voice,
and have spent the past 15 minutes trying to diffuse
the tension without avail, you know, it's never nice to mess
about with the nice guy asking you to sit down and chill.

It's even worse when you're being asked nicely to sit
down and chill, but you decide to start cursing every
mother's son, daughter. Chill out already, man.

And even then, you refuse and continue hurling abuse,
you'll have to expect that other people have their limits,
too.

You can't blame a man for turning violently angry, not
especially after you've referenced his charges as 'bitches'
or have begun disrespecting people (not withstanding me)
who've worked hard to get to where they are.


You can't blame me if I lost it and began roaring violently
at you. I mean, I'm sorry I lost my temper, that shouldn't
have happened, but I'm not sorry I made you cry.
You deserved it, every single tear; and even when friends
and acquaintances -horrified at my display- told me to
cheer up, I still felt bad. But you know what, after you stopped
crying and then began hurling abuse again, this time under
your breath.

Everything felt right. You got what you deserved, and I got
my peace. And people who saw my display never did cross
me, at least not the smart ones.


But you know, after so long, when that rage cuts through
that peaceful facade and you can only direct your anger at
shadows, what do you do? What does one do?

How does one direct rage at the insidious, the treacherous
and the hypocritical?

It's amazing how impervious to pain one gets when in
a fit of rage. Try punching the wall, hard, knuckle first.
Doesn't hurt at all.


Well, the scent of French Vanilla, the candour of Josef Suk
and George Gershwin, the numbing of the touch and the
silence from being neglected; has the most miraculous
of touches.

It also inspires you to write some pretty EMO shite,
if I do say so myself. Heheh.

And then, in the morning when you finally wake up, alone,
and at peace. You take a moment to recognize your folly,
still seething but having gained a closer understanding,
and then you smile. Having attained the knowledge that
emotionally, there isn't a dependence on the companionship
of others to help you work through your problems and that you're
one up from all the other needy people.

You'll still seethe, and you'll still hate, you won't understand why,
you won't see the need to. Just having that knowing grin and
waking up to find appreciation in Music. In a couple of hours,
soon enough, I expect, I'll be swinging to Sinatra, once again.