I, leli mcsquid, have an anger problem.
it all started one bright january day when I was born.
it's been 21.76 years now, and I feel that I've made very little progress.
don't get me wrong - other things have progressed. for instance:
I'm not afraid of water any more.
but still
I'm angry.
wait
too soffffffffft (ft ft ft) -
I seethe, teethe, seethe with
livid, white hot rage
but how can I
little me (i)
encapsulate the pain and hate
that burns inside
at the slightest provocation?
I'll put it to you like this. I hate that I hate. I'm angry that I'm angry. the fact of modern man's suckitude is what makes modern man suck. and not in a fun way, either. it's a vicious circle, but don't bring any british army men into this. they were having a lot of fun. except the part when the guy's head got chopped off by the propeller plane. that was just sad.
(but a little funny) -
we'll call it catch 69, cuz it sucks all the time.
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Mmmmm, anger is such a struggle-bound feeling. I think sometimes it can be incredibly useful, perhaps more driving and productive than our other emotions. But I think the problem comes when we fall in love with that kind of productivity and so look for anger, without differentiating between the useful and the destructive. Yeah.
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