I decided to confront, instead of to run. And when I did confront, I saw a greater darkness within me than I had initially imagined. It was almost terrifying. I embraced it and let it consume me. I almost lost myself a couple times today. The verge of snapping. I wanted to take it out in the weight room, but much to my irritation, it wasn’t open during lunch. The power that this anger gives me is one that must be used immediately. The restraining mechanisms seem to keep it at bay fairly well, but if it continues to build up because of a belated release, then I don’t know what will happen. There are only a few memories that I have that can seal my anger away.
I always count my blessings. Last Thanksgiving, Bestie once sent me a message: “You are a very good friend to me and I’m so thankful to have you in my life.”
One time I had a conversation over Facebook with Chelsey during one of her rare moments of not being too busy: “You are one of the smartest people I know. Like, when I look at you, I think, ‘Tennessee is going places for college and etc.'”
How could I possibly let down Bestie and Chelsey? Haha, those two have a nice ring together.
I acknowledge that others look up to me, but it’s only because I was able to stand upon the shoulders of the people I look up to as well. I honestly don’t know how that metaphor would work though if people that I look up to also look up to me. Bestie says that she finds me to be an inspiring individual. I don’t really know how. I guess the how doesn’t really matter. The fact that I do it is good enough for me. It’s still a curiosity that I’d like to fill. I’m not sure if it’s a possibility though.
It’s hard enough trying to reach Bestie currently. Getting more inside her head is probably out of the question.
Ridiculous. Preposterous. That feeds my anger. The person who I consider to be my best friend is also the farthest person away from me, it seems. What the puck. What the actual fuck. Sometimes I really hate that fact. But, like I said before, the road that I’ve chosen to take now will lead me closer to her. It’s not all for her, understand, but I’ll be applying what she taught me. She taught me the power of human relationships. She also taught me that a person who was once abandoned and betrayed could still do what they love in life. To me, that is inspiration. Not really… whatever the fuck I’m doing now. I’m just pumped up, see. I didn’t really take a huge hit in life and bounce back up. I acknowledge that I have taken a series of comparably small hits, but puck all of them. Life’s about recovering from those big ones, one step at a time.
I guess my anger will help me. I have no idea what to do with this reservoir though. I’ve cultivated it for years now, and when the reaping comes, I know that the harvest will be great. People wouldn’t believe me if I said I was cold way back when, when my self-hatred consumed me alive. I was though. My anger was turned inwards and I hated myself. I thus felt the hardening of my heart. The process was reversed though, one step at a time. And at each step, someone held my hand, most of the time not even realizing that they’ve done so. This time, each step will be my own. I’ll still have someone at my side to catch a fall, but they will not hold my hand. Never again. I am a Hunter. I believe in better standards than that. It’s time that I become more of a man than this. It’s not pussification to get help from others, but it’s pussification if you have to rely on them the whole time. I am absolutely not going to get carried by others. I will not stand for it at all.
I will not fall behind. I will not stand for it. I will move forward, forward, and move through each obstacle. I will find a way every time. Each time I will get stronger. Each time I will always get better. My past will not be a weight to drag me down, but a springboard to launch me. The solutions are there. My eyes will be trained to see them. I will see. My eyes will be obstructed by none.
Perceptions are such a funny thing. Only my dad has seen a portion of my cultivated anger. He was a direct witness to me wanting to smash my plate that one time, when I recounted how I failed miserably my freshman year in wrestling. The anger was released imperfectly, improperly. I know because I choked up that time. It’s always improper when I choke up. When I do it right, the fire fuels me, and I use it right then and there. Man, I have so much. Puck. I’ll probably end up getting more anyway today. The positive feedback will result from me going to the wrestling banquet. I’ll be reminded of how this season slipped past me. The past will fuel my anger. And the anger will fuel me.
This anger is interesting. My self-hatred is completely absent. But the anger is still there. Waiting. It beckons for me to use it. People would never have imagined me to be an angry person. I am a raging person on the inside. I sometimes surprise myself with how much of an asshole I could be on the inside. I was trained to be a good boy though. Only the memories of my embraces with Bestie and Chelsey on those separate occassions seal it away. I just did it right now though, I just remembered the memories, and I feel like crying. They make me so happy. But I can’t be with them all the time or anything.
I can see this being a cycle. It’s not a cycle that I want to be in. I’ll feel more empowered though to do something about it. I have lots of training to do tomorrow. My anger will come out nicely during that training. It will feel great.
To add to my frustration, I know that Bestie hurts on the indside too. Sometimes badly. Sometimes I don’t feel like I can do anything about it. One time I noticed that she seemed really upset after a swim practice. I could tell because she did what I often do: a self-lobotomy, where you escape yourself by putting your mind in some other space besides your head. I walked away, and later that night I messaged her about it. She thanked me for noticing, but she said she’d prefer to stay strong. What the puck. I feel that close to a person, but I’m not acknowledged as being able to process their own emotions. People often think that it’s a burden when they talk about their problems with me. I get stronger though as they tell me. Their feelings become my own. And the feeling is… perfection. I feel a connection. And that bondage with someone makes me want to be better. The motivation is perfect.
I never got why humans have wanted to transcend their condition, to become more than human. Why would they ever want that? Being a human being’s pretty great. If we were more than human and became gods instead, what could we ever strive for? Infallibility is the greater weakness. It would only lead to stagnation. With weakness, there can be progress. With strength, there can be perseverance. And progress towards what, would you say? I can’t say for certain. Whatever it is we want, I guess. The desire to transcend the human condition falls under that category though. What a contradiction. It’s simply a desire that I don’t understand. It’s the same feeling for me as if someone who was high-school age said to me, “I want to be a garbage man when I grow up.” It doesn’t seem fulfilling. Besides, all of that transcendance stuff is for the afterlife. Only the dead know what that’s like. Spending all of our time in order to become what we think would make us more godly only for the life after death doesn’t seem right to me. Again, it’s all a matter of perception. If someone had a very compelling argument for me, I’d probably take it and adjust what I see. All I think is that the life that we’ve been given is the one that we should be thinking about right now. And the lives of the people we care about, as well.