I hate people.

I find them incredibly insensitive, nonchalant, opportunistic, and ungrateful.

There is an anger raging within me that feels like a burning dragon.

I hate the world, too, very much so.

I am staring at a mental pile of human beings who have taken advantage of me or simply dropped out of conversations without a single response.

I am thinking about all the followers on social media who simply use me without ever giving back, really.

It’s bad, it feels really shitty and restless and crude.

But I am sharing it with you because I don’t worry too much about it.

It feels real, the negativity and the resistance, but it’s just an event.

It doesn’t say anything about Me, although it most certainly touches a rather twisted dark, psychological cluster.

So I shout at my cats.

I scream at the Wi-Fi things on the wall that are supposed to provide me with high-speed internet but stopped working.

I smash down my iPad and hit a door with my fist and it feels like I am taken over by an evil spirit.

But not really.

I am there when it happens.

However enticing the raging energy within may be, however personal it may feel, however challenged and aggressive I seem to be, it’s not who I really am.

This thing, this fury, this beast, has been long coming.

It wants out.

And I am letting it.

I know this is an absolute necessity, a very important happening, and I know that the timing is perfect, because it always is.

The anger flares up and dies down again.

It comes in burning waves, and every wave comes with its own compelling story about how ungrateful and stupid the world around me is.

It’s perfectly orchestrated.

Real hate.

And real disappointment.

And real anger.

Although it isn’t.

It’s not real.

This is where I see the difference between realistic and true.

Between being fully captivated and merely experiencing.

I feel like the subtle, stable outer shell around the crazy circus within.

Like I am holding the dragon, guiding it, swaying it.

Like I am drowning in anger, but free to come up for air.

It is really very convincing but I have learned to know better.

It’s okay even while at some level it’s very much not.

It feels like a cleansing, a rite of passage, a catharsis.

This was always gonna happen.

Old crap, old deep stinking messy personal frustrated shit.

Surfacing.

Finally.

And I can already feel what’s hidden in the aftermath.

Love.

More freedom.

Relief.

Light.

I love people.

I love life.

And sometimes I don’t.

And I love that too.

—

(Photo by @nseylubangi, for Unsplash)