Skip to main content

Out of Darkness

This is going to be one of those personal rants. You've been warned.

Anger is the emotion with which i have the most experience. Its the first emotion I remember experiencing. I feel like I've been angry my whole life; angry at my father, angry at my mother, the world, life, God, anyone. EVERYONE.

As you get older and more used to it, you learn how to use it (or let it destroy you). I liken anger to a warm blanket. It's a refuge in a cold world, embracing, enrapturing, comforting, and very easy to lose oneself in it.

Problem with that blanket is that it eventually becomes very, very hot, and you may find yourself set ablaze if you don't cast it off.

The older you get, the more you realize that you can't blame the world for your problems. Eventually, no matter where you came from or how bad things seem for you, you have to stand on your own feet.

Traveling the country was one of the best things to happen to me. I have nothing but love for majestic diversity that is San Francisco, but seeing the world, availing myself to other cultures and experiencing new ways of life was a tremendously humbling (and much needed) experience. It wasn't just learning that there were other people out there who had similiar experiences; it was that they were free of their demons, or in control of them. They were able to laugh, joke, and give of themselves freely without thought of recompense.

I used to be so cynical that I once told someone, to their face, that everyone had an angle. No one did something for someone for free. I confess that I still haven't completely let go of this belief. But I'm trying.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the nicest person in the world. On the other hand, I like to laugh. I like to make others laugh. I like to learn and grow and experience every last thing this planet has to offer. I don't want to take anything for granted, pre-judge, or let negativity become my first resort.

I may deal with anger issues my entire life, but I won't let them overtake me. God willing, I am done with self-destruction.

Thanks for reading.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

America: A True Story About Hatred and Unity

I wanted fast food tonight. That was all. I found myself at Burger King to pick up my wife's order. I was a few cars deep when I spotted the Confederate flag. I surreptitiously snapped a few photos. This was going to be a very different story. When I pull out of Burger King, it turns out there's more than one. In fact, there are four trucks, each flying variations of the flag. I have to go around the front of them to avoid an accident. They're parked right in the middle of the road. As I drive around them, each person in the vehicle makes it a point to ensure I see them. I do. They see me too. When I get to McDonald's (which is in the same lot), I learn that they're not taking debit cards at the moment. Terrific. I wanted chicken nuggets and instead, I get a run-in with the new Confederacy. So I make my way back to Burger King, again appearing in full view of the trucks. I place my order, get it, pay, and pull out. Then one of the

The Long Road Home

I will end you tonight. No, wait. That's not where the story starts. The story starts two and a half years before this, when Michelle (referred to as Michelle for legal reasons because SATAN was too heavily trademarked) reached out to me by Facebook. She mentioned that we played the same Facebook game and she wanted to say hi. I had never, in fact, even heard of the Facebook game. But I was freshly broken out of a relationship and she was pretty with a good body so I said "Hurr, okay." Conversation ensues. She tells me we came up in the same place. We did not come up in the same place. We spent one night in San Francisco talking. But I really wanted to sleep with her. So, "Hurr, okay." Fast forward a few months. I've left Missouri for the beautiful Pacific Northwest. I've settled into the ass end of Lynnwood, a suburb of Seattle. The apartment was so bad that the landlord wrote the mold on the wall off as "crayon coloring

Wave Rocketbook Reviewed

I love writing by hand, and I love notebooks. I'll often devote entire budgets to them and when Officemax has one of their twenty-five cent sales, I'll buy them out. I often draft by hand, finding that the scene comes together more purely when it flows from a pen rather than a keyboard. So when DailyDot advertised a durable new type of notebook that you could use over and over again for the cheap price of twenty-five (thirty after shipping) US Dollars? I'm down. The Wave Rocketbook is meant to be elegant in its design and simple in its execution. The instructions come on the bag itself, and only the pen and notebook are included. The pen feels like any other, so you have to be careful not to mix it into your collection or you will end up marking your notebook with the wrong pen (like I did). The ink is erasable, which is a bonus. A place to put the pen would've been nice, but it clips easily, if not securely, into the ringed binding. The paper is thick and