anger

Yesterday, I was angry. Legitimately fuming, filled with rage, so angry it made me cry. So that's what I did. I cried and wrote until I felt it dissipate, but I didn't forget what happened. My anger was justified, and I worked it out in a creative, constructive manner.

Today, I am angry again. A vulgar, obscene, rude kind of angry. The kind that makes me want to take a long, hard run and avoid all people for the next few days, my nose in a book, curled up somewhere sunny where I can rest and not deal with things. I am not justified in this anger, and I'm not doing anything with it. It's just boiling under the surface, driving me crazy.

And so, in a way, this was a rant for me. And a reminder that I should probably take a deep breath, and look at things. Chances are I won't, and I'll regret it in the morning. But I'm trying to do something now, and that counts for at least a little bit.

sarah∞mae