Anger

Anger 3/16/08

I've seen the effects sexual abuse has on a person; witnesses physical, emotional, and drug abuse. Am I angry? I am a victim of physical and emotional abuse. Am I angry? I've lost my marriage, my job, and all of my possessions. It is impossible to be the father my children so desperately need. Am I angry? Yeah I'm Angry!!

I'm angry because at the age of nine I has hauling pig guts across a field with my bare hands. I remember the feel of intestines sliding through my fingers and if I close my eyes, I swear, I can smell that metallic smell of blood mixed with shit.

I'm angry because I had to shoot a man in the chest and then watch his blood drip onto the ground like the slow leak of a water balloon. What makes it worse, isn't the fact I did it, but I did it and don't feel anything. Emotionally, I feel nothing. Death means nothing. Last year the counselor called me down and told me my Grandmother had died. You know what I said? I said "OK" and then went back to my block

I'm angry because I think about wrapping my hands around someone's throat and squeezing until they piss and shit themselves. I'm angry because no matter how hard I've tried, I don't respect people and see them only as a tool for me to use.

I've been asked what I see when I look in the mirror. I've always given the, Oh I don't know, this or that answer. What I should be saying is, I see a monster. I look into my eyes and see a monster looking back. He's in there and he's pissed.

I know about control, patience, and tolerance. I fight with these everyday. Everyday could be the day I stop fighting and it scares me to death.

Violence 2/09

Anger is a destructive emotion, more so than any other. Anger dulls the consciousness. It destroys the capacity for rational thought and judgement. Anger sets you upon a path that cannot easily be broken free of, even if common sense dictates another course. We must let go of our anger. Notice I did not say forget. Never forget. We, each of us, are a composite of our experiences, good and bad, and to release any experience from our thoughts would diminish who we are. Do not forget. Do not dull the images. And do not let those images inspire self-destruction.

I grew up around angry people and witnesses many violent acts. Violence was the way they dealt with their anger. There was my childhood neighbor that would throw his cat from the third story balcony over and over again. Later that week, he'd fall out of the tree we were climbing. Only he and I knew that he was pushed. I pushed him. At the time I was thinking he should of been the cat.

I am now in prison and see violence everyday. Not long ago, I was the intended target. Those who could had crowded into my cell, intent on violence, found me sitting at my desk with only one shoe on. My reaction wasn't what was expected and they seemed very foolish having to look among themselves for a leader, someone to re-kindle their flame of rage.

That day ended the way I wanted because I wasn't going to waste my energy on them. I've learned to shrug things off. I'm very good at it. Hitting someone in the face might make me feel better, but it wouldn't make me any better than those foolish people who entered my cell. I'm not that simple minded.

As long as I know who I am it doesn't matter what people think about me. Laughing, even privately, at the simple minded youth surrounding me, is much more satisfying in the long run than rolling around in a cell with them, trying to knock out all their teeth. If nothing else, it is easier on my knuckles.