I Never Learned How to be Angry
Off all negative emotions, anger definitely seems the most foreign to me. That’s not to say I don’t get angry, on the contrary. I just have trouble expressing it directly. Yet I still have it inside of me and I dont really know how best to channel it.
I have plenty to be angry about I suppose. Mainly at the state and the place I am in this foul year of our lord 2012. The economy is supposedly getting better, but I don’t see it. I’m applying to jobs all the time but I get no indication if I’m doing it right or not. I also try go the extra mile, call the offices, show up in person. So far no one has been receptive and it has gotten me nowhere. I also feel lots of anger at the false hopes people have fed me over the years. Everyone tells you that you can be anything you want to be, well fuck that that’s not true. I sometimes wish that people had dissuaded me from pursuing Religious Studies as my major, but I really can’t blame anyone for that. In fact I can’t really blame anybody for these problems. That’s the problem with my anger, I really feel like the only person to blame for my situation is myself. If I had only been more reasonable, if I could have seen how useful it would have been to cultivate helpful relationships in extracurricular activities, if I just studied something practical. At the very least I could have minored in something other than music.
Its all so frustrating that I’m the one who put myself here, continually being dissuaded from the practical in favor for what I felt to me higher causes. Art, philosophy and the big questions has what driven me to do what I do. The thing is though so far all this pursuing of meaning has only led me to on conclusion, there is no real meaning. There’s incredible freedom in that statement, I can do whatever I want goes fuck it! It doesn’t matter. But lately when that thought comes into my head I feel no freedom. Only darkness in the pettiness of our existence. Another thing thing to be angry about I suppose.
I am continually dissatisfied with reality and I think I always have been. On my good days I can look up to the sky and almost see the seems that hold reality together. I feel like I could reach up, grip them with my fingers and tear them open, revealing the truth behind it all. Of course i haven’t been able to rip the sky in half and even if I did, I doubt I would find anything underneath. Yet saying these things that I find ultimately true seems to strike a painful chord in most people, as if they know that there is nothing beneath but they are just too scared to admit it. And what business would want somebody who thinks like I do anyway? Rarely do I express myself fully to those close to me anyway for fear that what I say is too real for them to handle, and its stifling. I don’t know how to get it out without damaging others, leaving myself to hold onto it until I figure out a better way to deal with it.