Ah the stress. The emotions that pour out as verbal abuse. Not like that. But snapping, Yelling. Someone gets hit with it if they are within listening range. Someone becomes an unintended target. Then on and on until the dog gets kicked. You know the story.
And the things we let get to us that cause the stress…some valid, others contrived. Mostly contrived, but maybe not.
I need a baseball bat and a room filled with fragile things. The inanimate kind. The kind I can smash without feeling bad about afterward. Without feeling regret. Like I do with the snapping and yelling at people who are in the wrong place at the wrong time.
This is why I hide. But hiding doesn’t go over so well, either.
I’ve been walking in 100+ degree heat (that’s 38+ Celsius for most of you) twice a day since summer began. Okay, not every day, but a lot of days. The heat burns off the negativity.
I should have walked longer this time.
I just erased a rant that would rival Scarface. I needed to write it. I needed to erase it. No one should be subjected to that level of anger. No one should feel it, either. I watched Anakin Skywalker turn into Darth Vader last night. I don’t want that to happen to me.
Another Writer, Another Blog 