More than anything in my life, I am angry.
I am angry at the blank page staring at me.
At the fact that I am writing in my most angry skin.
The tough, dark and dirty looking skin.
Everytime I notice that I am angry, the way I think of myself changes completely.
I become obese, dark in complexion, bitter, and sneaky.
I feel it in the way I interact with people,
I do not decrease my anger,
I do not stop my blame,
I take it out on the strongest person I come across,
(A security guard at the entrance of Mr. Price, whose job is to punch staples into my plastic bag, but because I am angry, he will not touch my plastic bag or even search it as I walk out the shop after my browse)
And their defeat is my ultimate reward.
Anger operates in the most unwanted way,
For years I have tried to stop it,
For years I have tried to adopt a new method of getting angry.
It has not worked.
Breathing in and out,
Talking about it,
…I cannot run in the middle of town in my work uniform with a hand bag in hand though.
This might help,
Writing and exploring what it is that is working me up,
Is it worth it?
Is it affecting the way you are feeling all day even though it happend in the first quarter of the morning?
Is it really worth it?
That is true, it is worth it,
you wake up with the symptoms of a drinker.
Sick, tired, negative towards everything.
Then, then it is not worth it.
I know it isnt for me..
*remember, growth comes from confronting that which you think is too much to handle.