Diary Of An Angry Girl

 

July 6th, 2017 3:06 a.m.

They say you lose your senses when you fall in love. I must be neck deep in love with my anger because it does make me lose all my senses. I don’t hear the desperate calls of my loved ones, trying to bring me back from the frenzy state that I transport myself to. I don’t see the hurtful looks on people I am screaming at in anger. I don’t feel anything. Ironic because I sure am angry at that time but I still don’t feel anything. And it…hurts. Not just me, but others.

    Again ironic for a person who does not want to hurt anyone in life, ends up hurting so many people at once. Anger is not just a feeling. It’s a disease. It drills holes of fire in you. You feel something burning inside you and so you bring all of it out in words, thinking it will help you distinguish the destructive fire inside you. The fire withers. But it does a lot of damage. It burns people around you, pushing everyone away from you, making people fear and hate you. Ironically, it does not burn you. It leaves holes in you almost as if you were a mere piece of paper. Huge holes with ashes lacing its circumference. You look at yourself and see pit black holes in the place of your guts and stomach and chest and heart. And you fear that one day it will leave a huge hole in your face.

   This disease, which has eaten up half your body will eat your face which used to be a stage for all your different expressions and emotions but henceforth, only one expression and emotion or as we have claimed it to be, a disease will end up on that stage. It will dance all around on the stage till there is no audience, no one to applaud or wait for your performance to get over so that they could talk to you and congratulate you. And you try to prevent it but it just doesn’t happen. Nothing happens and things keep going worse. Every time the disease pays you a visit, it promises it will come back later soon. And you quiver at the mention of that last word. It comes back to you and tries to destroy you in different ways.

    One day it tells you that whatever has happened all this while is not enough. It wants more destruction. It leads you to break your mother’s china that your grandmother had gifted her and then it makes you pick the scattered pieces of the China and your mother’s heart too so that you could bleed… Your mother sits silently as you stand with pieces of her heart in your hands, not knowing what to. She wants to tell you something but she’s scared that it might break your heart and she does not want to see more of broken things in the house. Next day it comes again and forces you to throw away your phone and your father’s heart too so that both could break. It then watches you weep and gives a devilish smile at the sight of your father picking up the phone. It smiles because your father left the pieces of his heart scattered right there, on the floor…It thinks it has succeeded. It starts visiting you frequently. Everyone looks at it as if it was a boy you were dating who they know is not good for you. But they look at you helplessly. You breakup with it at 3 in the night and decide to be a different person tomorrow.

But next day, you wake up only to find out that it had imprinted on you last night. You stare at the fresh wound like impressions on your wrist and then you look at yourself in the mirror. It peeks from behind you with an evil smile and you gasp and sigh. There’s nothing you can do…

 

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