Angry isn't a good look on anyone. There is a ghostly cord that grows from your bent spine and dangles over your head as some rotten carrot you chase. In your zombie state you think you chase me. It's sad to watch you run that way. Why not stop and see the real me? I'm right here.
The angry ones create their own ghosts to chase, their delusions of who you are. So let them run, let them exhaust themselves. Ignoring them is the only sane response.
As with most primitive emotions, when anger is directed by the logic, empathy and creativity of the higher brain, it becomes an element of the hero personality.
When the environment favours the development of the primitive brain instead of the prefrontal cortex, we get more "Hulk smash" anger than careful logical thoughts.
They say anger is the bodyguard of sadness, that the only real way out is vulnerability, and that is why talk therapy works so very well.
Anger is a thing I channel into my passions, I make it my rocket fuel to create a better world. Those times I have lashed out, lost self control, I apologise and learn from that experience - learn how to become more as my grandfather who suffered so much and yet was calm and kind to all.
Anger in a moment can scar for a lifetime, self control is worth the time and effort it takes to develop.
The anger from her eyes showed the scared child within, the girl who was taught to fight and starved of the love she craved. I could see the pain beneath it and her soul drowning in this persona she'd carved to fit a world of indifference. But I can't help someone like that, not unless the tears come and they realise what's really going on. And I can't fight it, I won't, it takes such a toll on me to do so. The best I can offer her is a void, to let her shadow box until she craves the sunlight.
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