I have a confession, I have a very strange kind of sensitivity, I call it compilation of the subtle. When I’m hurt, I could lock myself up or be depressed for days or even tear when whatever is hurting is on my mind. So far it’s normal.
Enters compilation of the subtle.
Take today, I’m at work, trapped in my day job and striving to meet a deadline for my moonlighting job, and there she is, so beautiful, so divine, so perfect, and so distant, everything feels like a fight against the universe, opposed to my usual sense of connectedness. I haven’t smoked for 2 hours because I’m THAT busy, I’ve had 5 cups of coffee, and I feel my blood is turning into gasoline, all what I need is something to explode in.
It’s not anxiety that I’m feeling, it’s not anger, it’s wrath.. building up, building up, building up, building up, building up, building up.
Yes, tracing wrath to the small things means it’s probably sadness, grief, boredom, and entrapment in every possible sense. But does that make it any less dangerous?
I am the self-proclaimed God of small things, and you can’t stop my wrath, but you will bring it upon yourself when you get in the way, when you stir just one of my small things. My small sore things.
I need to get out of here..