adventurescga-blogs Sep 14, 2011 8:00 PM

Stifled by Bitterness

You do things and do things and nobody really has a clue. - John Updike, Rabbit, Run Boundless, restless, contempt pervades longin...

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You do things and do things and nobody really has a clue.

- John Updike, Rabbit, Run


Boundless, restless, contempt pervades longing. Is it all for naught?

 

Eloquence, flawless diction, smooth talking, words are lost, shattered to rubble. Nowhere to be found is the phrasing, capable of describing this emotional resentment. Misanthropy settles in, the blood boils, and my face is shown in pigments of red. Surrounded by inner heat, anger settles in; bitterness is all I can taste. Emotions are powder keg: volatile, combustible, and contents under pressure, ready for a spark to ignite. It ticks away. What shall set off this emotional time bomb? Moreover, who will be the casualties?

 

Pent up frustrations, stifle thinking. Thoughts are clouded. Life is slowly being choked to death. Anger presses it's thumbs down on the larynx, drowning out the screams for help. 

 

What hath wrought a feeling of resentment?

 

Deep inside, the desire to change is conflicted. Shall I change or allow myself to slowly drift away, in the murky pools of hatred?



::Author's Note::

 

This is an emotion, I wanted to expound upon for two years. You see, it has been over two years, since I gave up my hatred and resentment. I was in such a dark place with where my life was going, with where I found myself. I was misanthropic, bitter at the very people I need to release. Truly, I was dying inside with no hope or recourse to save me. At least, that was the delusion I bought into. It was the justification to continue wallowing in the self-righteous delusions of my own standing. 

 

Despite the inerrancy of my logic, I found myself committed to the success of this instilment. The bitterness was rotting away my soul, and I was credulous to believe I was unobjectionable. 

 

I came to place where I discovered the flaw in this line of thinking, in that the logic I held so firm to, be actually poisoning me. A release of pressure and segment of surgery was needed to exhume the lethargy from becoming atrophy. 

 

This is to bluntly and blatantly say, I was once held in this prison. And now I can say that I am free from its control. 

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