Anger.

Anger. Anger. Anger.

I don’t remember the first time I actually felt anger. As a child, it wasn’t something I really felt. Or at least I don’t remember feeling. I think the real first time I can remember it I was about twelve. My brother and I got into a fight about something stupid and I punched him in the nose. I was covered in his blood. My dad beat me for that. I felt anger at both of them.

It then, as I entered puberty and tried to become a man, became a dominant theme in my life. My anger never translated into violence as I grew older. It merely became condescension, aggravation, frustration, rudeness. It became channeled into precision and decision. I knew what I liked. I knew what I hated. If you crossed those borders I rejected you. Anger was safe. Anger was natural. I did not have to have fear in my heart; fear got transmuted into anger and I was finally safe.

The feeling of anger did not change as I entered manhood. I was careful about who I let activate it though. Men and bosses were my primary targets. As much as I adore men, the way they look, the way they smell, they are often targets of all this rage in my chest. Why? They don’t understand how it is to be soft in a hard world and I want them to understand. I want them to emotionally suffer just a little bit what it is like being soft. And bosses? Well, I don’t like anyone dumber than me having authority over me. I’ve fought with every boss I’ve had. To my own detriment. For my own dignity though. For my own right to be treated as a person and not as someone there to make some dumbfuck’s shares go up. Anger is a way to demand respect. To demand to be treated as human.

Anger though, why anger? I can’t, I just can’t remember much of my years being ensconced in this angry feeling that I have had since my balls dropped at the injustice of the world. I was a happy and helpful kid. I was carefree and I loved everyone. Then there was some enlightenment that happened in the worst way. I clued into all the ways people got treated like shit for no reason. I found out about racism and misogyny. When I was 14 and realized I was definitely gay I found out about homophobia and I got angry. My anger moved from being about me to being beyond me. To being furious at all the people who were short-sighted and only wanted their cultural norms to be upheld. To being angry at my uncles who told me they would kill me if I wound up gay. My anger was righteous. It was pure. It was for the good of everyone.

Now my anger chokes me. It lashes out. It is the final word. When you grow up just fighting everyone you know what does your anger become? It becomes a weapon. It becomes a tool. It becomes the only thing you know how to use to fix a problem. I don’t want to be angry anymore. I want to relax. I want to be able to hear another opinion that I find deplorable and not feel that heat rise in my chest and interrogate them on why and what they actually believe instead of lashing out.

God, I just want to feel peace again like when I was a boy.