Self inflicting sense of anger

Infuriating me is pretty easy, so is hurting my feelings. It does not take much for me to lose my cool, but it takes a lot to calm me down. So the question is, when do I take it personally? These hurt come from either words or expectation.

On a normal day, I seldom overthink. I imagine of tangerine trees and marmalade skies. Every day is a search for laughter and smile. It is a constant journey of happiness in simplicity. On certain days, we raise the bar. We keep with us high hopes. High expectations have drowned me in sorrow in the past and it still does, like when I look for the moon without expecting clouds. There are many things that hurt me. To highlight a few, I don’t like it if you say my friends aren’t pretty. I don’t like it when you shout at me. I don’t like it when you roll your eyes. There are certain things I don’t usually lose my cool for like making me wait. There are certain things I do not do when I am mad like embarrass you in public and I am certain that many times I keep my silence or hurt with sharp words.

I am not proud of myself. Perhaps I’m too hard to get used to. Though I’ve never physically hurt anyone, my tongue has twisted to produce some of the meanest sentences. I abandon the situation when I’m mad because I need space. In my solitude, I find bliss. At such times, my senses of sleep and hunger are bothered the most. It is one of those times I feel like disappearing completely. I seldom write sad songs and I’d rather stay away from my phone. A beautiful scene cannot bring me back a peaceful mood. Perhaps I pile up the embarrassment and I do not look for anyone to tell me they’re sorry, and neither do I ever apologize. The one who is wrong does not have to be the person to say it’s okay. There’s nothing in this world a hug from someone you’re mad at cannot fix when there exists love.

In joyous times, I sing to people. I try to make them smile, but I know there are days when everybody has managed to loosen my screws. Underappreciating me makes me sad, but it doesn’t disgust me for the person is being all but honest. My angst only comes up with cruelty and when you do things to me that I would have never done to you. It despises me when someone I care for loses their manner and the moral ethics. Not every day is bitter or sweet, but every day is stupendous when you start a day with an argument or being mean. There are times when these factors of anger compound. Silly things we say tend to feel stupid. When in a bad mood, nothing seems to ease or make it feel good.  There is a difference between venom and poison that one should know. Some people are just too venomous to be around. It has an aura of thorns that takes away the joys in life. For others, it could be poison, a disaster that only affects when you wishfully take it in yourself. Most of the times, I complicate it even more than I should like staying offline or switching off my phone. I can’t live without doing these idiotic things. It gives me time to think. I know that in the end, I will forgive, but it’s about how long.

It isn’t betrayal, but sometimes I doubt myself in times of row, with questions like was it you or me? I do not wish to bring back these talks so very unpleasant. One thing that bothers me is that it keeps on happening. By the end of the day, it’s both of us being sad, hurting each other; the ones that actually care about each other. It doesn’t take much to make me smile, but it takes away a lot when I’m hurt. Perhaps it’s okay to burn it in the sand, these bitter moments that could have been all smiles. You don’t even need to talk about it. Nothing means more than family and friends; though I have a few other things like books and guitars as well which I mark as very important. It’s okay to be silly. We all have a temper and we all make wrong moves and mistakes. It takes small fights to realize that we care. But I will not tell what went wrong. It is for you to find out.

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