Friday, March 01, 2013


Anger was the emotion that drove me most in the days after the stroke, and it still motivates me in many ways. It burns away the tar and cobwebs that keep people trapped in past eras. It makes me stop being a doormat when people wipe their feet on me. It helps me see without sentiment. It purifies.

Like any drug, too much anger is bad, but I see nothing wrong with being angry in the right doses for the right reasons. That's me on this Friday night — no rage overdose, just the right number of pulls on the pipe filled with mad shards. It's where I need to be as I plot the right course through a big change in my life.

I'm pissed off at being pissed on, mad at the mayhem that has threatened to engulf me for a while now. I helped make it, I participated in it, I accept my share of the blame for it — but I wasn't alone in its creation, and while I'm plenty mad at myself I'm also angry at my conspirators for ducking their responsibility.

The opposite of anger is fear, of course, an emotion I cannot afford right now. I've spent plenty of currency on fear over the years, wasted lots of coin on being scared. I have nothing to show for it.

Fear can't be allowed to intrude as I walk deeper into unknown territory. If I'm afraid then I will be tentative, and I must write my future in bold strokes; no tremor in the hand, no stops in the lines. The pale and uncertain will die up ahead, gutted by an overabundance of caution and too much omphaloskepsis. I will have to walk fast past their corpses and not stop to mourn. We all make choices in life, but to live one must not falter and fall victim to fear. It's the quickest way to become old before your time, the surest path to irrelevance. It may be the easiest route but it's slow, filled with pokey people who are always getting in your fucking way, clogging up the passing lanes and braking as they think about making a U-turn.

Fuck fear, I said tonight. Being tentative is not in my nature. Being scared is for pussies. Overthinking is just as bad. I once gazed at my navel too long and when I looked up much of the world had passed me by. That was a mistake I won't make again.

Chickens can come home and roost all they want. I'm flying in search of sunshine.

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