Rage.

December 31, 2015 @ 5:04 pm

The last year was rather uneventful. No big changes, no winning lottery ticket, no dream job. Yet, it was a great year. I enjoyed myself, laughed, ate well, had new ideas, felt smitten. My emotions still exist, yet they do not consume or rule me. This is what I worked – fought – for, and I am thankful for 2015.

I wrote this in a journal prior to being picked up to celebrate the new year. I reread what I wrote and wanted to be more profound, more elaborate. But nothing came to mind, and it’s because what I wrote was enough, was right. Nothing big happened, but I was able to enjoy the things that were happening. I was around for happenings. I was happening. Unfortunately there were years where I did not want to be happening. I reflect on that Jackie and feel for her and her wounds, but I also thank her, because she pulled through – she fought like a motherfucker – to allow this Jackie to happen, to be. A five year old could probably kick my ass and I would break a hip trying to karate-chop a dude in the neck, but I am as tough as anybody. I am brimming with rage, but it is a rage that compels me to keep on going, keep on keeping on, keep on trucking. Can’t tell me nothing.

“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” – Dylan Thomas

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6 thoughts on “Rage.

  1. Rage on, miss! Also, do you think you can help me on an essay to get into grad school? I need someone who’s blunt enough to tell me it sucks and how I can improve it. Please?! 🤓

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