That damn box
Mar. 7th, 2005 09:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Have you ever been so made at someone, you just wanted to shake them and yell, "how could you fucking do this to me?!" Now, have you ever had this anger pop out of nowhere on you based on something that happened twenty years ago and you never even realized that you were that angry about it, but all of the sudden something has happened, and the box of anger has opened, and it's all just pouring out of you, and you don't feel like you can even talk to the person who did this to you, let alone address your anger? They wouldn't even understand what the hell you were talking about?
I'm there right now. Twenty years of anger. Worse, anger that has been building over events that have been occurring over twenty years that I thought were only nuisances, only annoyances, never made me angry. They were just to be ignored. That was just how they acted, I just let them act that way and moved on.
And then my grandmother sent me that letter in January, and the box opened, and now all hell has broken loose. And what am I going to do about it? I can't talk to them about it, because they haven't got a fucking clue, and would look at me with this blank little deer stare, the kind that occurs just before the animal gets hit by a car.
What's the use of comments? No one knows what the hell I'm talking about...I don't even know what I'm talking about. Let alone what I'm going to do about it.
I just need to close the damn box again.
I'm there right now. Twenty years of anger. Worse, anger that has been building over events that have been occurring over twenty years that I thought were only nuisances, only annoyances, never made me angry. They were just to be ignored. That was just how they acted, I just let them act that way and moved on.
And then my grandmother sent me that letter in January, and the box opened, and now all hell has broken loose. And what am I going to do about it? I can't talk to them about it, because they haven't got a fucking clue, and would look at me with this blank little deer stare, the kind that occurs just before the animal gets hit by a car.
What's the use of comments? No one knows what the hell I'm talking about...I don't even know what I'm talking about. Let alone what I'm going to do about it.
I just need to close the damn box again.