There’s some anger. Not against people. But, some people cause anger. Not because who they are, but what they say. They are angry too. But they do not know how to direct their anger. And even though I am angry, I choose not to be. I choose to burn inside. That makes me angrier. I don’t blame those who are angry. They have their reasons. I wonder if there are good reasons; given the reasons are their own. Are they angry of their own volition – or is someone making them angry? Is someone lending anger? Is it borrowed anger; fashionable?
Being angry is belonging? My anger and Your anger. Are you angry here or are you angry there? How angry are against how angry I am. There’s anger all over. So you never know where the anger erupts, who accepts it for now; who chooses an anger that is against the anger? My anger is better than you anger, and so flows the river of anger, through the air, wrapping every cell, infecting with such galore, that no question of otherwise may ever occur.
In our anger, we are evaluating the anger of the other. Unaware of what’s seething inside.
What, of the anger, within?