Anger as soon as fed is dead –
‘Tis starving makes it fat.
- Emily Dickinson
On some days, I could really be such a hardheaded bitch. But I realized it would be extremely difficult not to be. There are just some instances when you totally have no choice but to let the venom out. Or else it’ll turn on you. And when you finally let it all out, the feeling of relief is just so overwhelming you could almost touch it.
Talking about anger, I would have to admit that I’ve always been manipulated by my own temper. But I do find a proper outlet, a suitable conduit so I wouldn’t end up throwing an F to random strangers on the street. Sometimes when I feel my temper slowly rising on the surface, I get my guitar and strum a happy tune. Or I’d flip open a book. Or I’d switch my laptop on and write to my heart’s content.
But I could say I was never at ease with the anger phase. Despite the intensity of the feeling, I keep my old self anchored at the base, just to stop myself from blowing things out of proportion. So even when a “stray bullet” (a codename for the malicious words I often get from a certain someone at work) comes speeding my way, I could recover easily from the attack. Or if I’m lucky enough, maybe I could dodge it using a well-devised counter-attack (again, IF I’m lucky, which I hardly ever was).
It’s OK to let your anger consume you. Sometimes, it’s the only way you can free yourself from all the shit that’s been burdening you. Just as long as you won’t lose yourself in the process and that you would know how to get back to your old, lovable self again.