the anger of opposite

i am opposite right now. and angry. i am different. and angry. rebellious. and angry. so angry that i don't know what to do with myself. so angry that i threatened two people this weekend...maybe with good cause. maybe not.

i don't know whether or not to feel bad about my anger...it's picking at me, like lint. it doesn't hurt. the thoughts, the reflections, the memories and sting of my anger just sit there. fly in my mind. in my ointment.

i ask myself: what am i trying to heal? where am i trying to be? what do i want to do?

where do i want to go?

away from here, from this angry city of my birth. can't help but, right? because we're all squeezed too tight and trying to smile from the pain, but the corner of my mouth are showing faint cracks and i'm only 29.

i've been so resigned and the anger's the only thing that feels right.

is my depression turning inside out?

i think so. is this a stage, a process, a rock on the road to healing?

i wish i knew and that there was someone who i could ask who isn't ashamed of the fire in my eyes. maybe they aren't ashamed.

maybe i am.

i enjoy being gentle and sweet and kind. i enjoy being understanding, empathetic, an active listener. i enjoy being connected, having intimate conversations that unfurl like the purple tongues of children, eating summer popsicles.

i enjoy the visceral twinge of love when i look into the eyes of a kindred spirit.

but the sweetness is so fleeting...and then honks, fingers, dirty looks, judgmental stares, snickered insults, an entire society with brainwashed pathology, taught to rake everyone over the coals. a stairstep world where stepping on is stepping up and stepping up will eventually lead down and stepping down is rarely seen and when it is, considered weak. the only thing that's truly accepting is stepping in time, stepping in place.

1, 2, 3, 4.

5, 6, 7, 8.

who do we appreciate?

how do you protect yourself without becoming defensive?

without getting so angry?

i'm still looking for my mountain to sit on.