Sometimes I wonder why anger is so empowering.
I wonder why it’s all bloody knuckles, teeth grinding hard, throat scratched hoarse from screamed confessions that nobody ever really means.
I hate hate hate the way it gives me energy, motivation, a sense of purpose in the worst way possible.
It makes me sick.
Mama, I don’t feel so good. Somebody ticked me off again.
But then I can stand again, because I have something to do, something to hate.
I am safe, miles away from any sort of embarrassment or judgment or stupid stupid guilt.
But I remember.
Why does anger give so much power?
Because it rips away our self-set boundaries, tears out the little white picket fence telling us that we can’t always get what we want.
Yes, I can. I can punch kick scream hit until I get what I want, who cares about you?
And I don’t blame us.
Who ever wants to accept that?
Sometimes I wonder why sadness grips us by the throat.
It fills our eyes and burns our nose, blurs the world whisking past.
It’s a knife stuck in our chest but we leave it in there, let it sting, let it bleed bleed bleed on other people.
But I remember.
Why does fear cut off our oxygen?
It rips down angry walls, and fiery red words turn slow and blue and easily broken.
And it’s earth-shattering to admit to oneself,
Maybe I will say that in this moment I’m a little awful after all.
I used to wonder why contentment is so fleeting.
I wondered why gratification and satisfaction slip from my fingers faster than tiny grains of sand slipping through an hourglass.
I see a moment of tranquility but it’s a mote of dust in the sunlight, and it whisks away as soon as I reach out to grasp it.
But I always remember.
How does it flee so fast?
Contentment is brilliant stained glass, easily shattered but not so easily pieced back together.
But I think there must be something thicker stronger tougher out there, right?
What else could we possibly be searching for?