There’s a motherfucking bunch of anger that’s here at the moment. Today in particular. Actually, right this minute – I think that’s why I got the idea of a post. I’m not really sure what it is, but I’m learning that often/sometimes, you don’t need to. Like, we can have these feelings and we don’t need to know why. They’re there and that’s what matters. Intellectualising just overwhelms and confuses, and leaves us swimming in a bunch of other shit – usually theories from our critic – and so the anger gets left behind, or gets buried deep beneath, to a place where we don’t wanna leave it but we so often do. A place in us not out of us. It reminds me of my fave quote:
“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.”
I think I’m just pissed. off. No particular reason – although I have a bunch of freakin’ things I could be pissed off about at the moment, and actually am. Okay, so maybe that’s what it is. It’s a cloud of frustration that’s here reminding me of what I don’t want in my life. I don’t want trans-fucking-ition anymore. I just want a freakin’ house. I don’t want injuries, I just want a mended and healed back. I don’t want a future that feels full of terror and worry and made up stories that my inner critic has crafted and shone a light on, whenever he can. Motherfucker. I want a future that’s made up of roses and success stories, and love. I want a future that doesn’t contain disaster and a present that doesn’t contain this either. I want to know my strengths will take me to a far away place of success. I want to know my strengths will stay with me, and carry me to a nest I can call home real soon after I leave this little place on thursday.
I want to know that I can do this and know that I can thrive. I want to know that my body will make it, and suit the kinda life I want to try. I know what else I want in life too. I want a bunch of shit that’s so different to what I thought I’d ever be or ever want. Like happiness, love, security and joy…those aims never came into my life plans before. I didn’t even know they truly existed, or something you could actually aim for. Now they’re the motherfucking themes.
Sometimes I can be bothered to express my anger but other times I can’t. Tonight is one of those – like, I want to jump up and yell and scream and hit a wall with a pillow and find all these hating words inside me and type them on the screen…but I can’t. I can’t be bothered and I just want to write instead. I want to continue on the project that I’ve been writing the last two days, but right now clusters of other words or frustration or just feeling pissed seem to have entered my head. Oh well. It’s all good. Maybe it’ll fuel me further, maybe it’ll do me some good.
Or maybe it’ll just make me go and eat chips because I can’t be bothered to do anything else.