Serenity and agitation are opposites which logically cannot co-exist. However, if you imagine agitation existing not as an anti-thesis of calmness but within calmness itself. Some may argue that in such a case the calmness is not authentic, it is simply masked agitation. That is certainly a valid argument. I don't know, I am trying to understand it in a different way, as Einstein said, one cannot find the solution by thinking in the same way that created the problem. I was pondering upon this because I realised that I seem to be feeling calm in my agitation. Maybe it's acceptance of my agitation, or maybe just my self control. Perhaps trying to understand it in a detached, unemotional way will help me figure how the forces of anger, fear, worry, depression work alongside hope, happiness, faith and love. Maybe then I'll be able to manipulate my feelings in a calculated, uninvolved manner according to what I want to feel. Maybe then I would be able to delve deeper into what gets me ticking, to understand my startling complexity and the resulting inherent instability.
The strangest thing is watching myself oscillate wildly between moods - being almost a different person in my two extremes. I am submerged in the hollow depths of the oceans in one moment and am exalted to where the mountain peaks meet the heavens in the next. It's crazy.
I relish my darkness. Yes, the blatant immorality of the thought shocks me as well. At least I am able to understand now why I'm unable to let go of my past. It's simple really - my past, my raging anger, my stinging bitterness, my cutting cynicism, my throbbing sadness, my crushing depression, and my numbing ice cold pain and enveloping darkness are all a part of who I am. Listen to me carefully...See, all these things, while hateful, they define me. And, I'm afraid that in letting it go, I may have to give up a part of myself. Given my shaky sense of self, it's only natural that I am hesitant to give up anything that even remotely defines who I am, what I mean and what I stand for.
I figure I need a symbol to hold on to and I need that symbol to be bigger than I am. I've come to realise that without a 'centric' theme or idea to stand for in my life, I am utterly incapable of feeling 'complete'. My idea - the one which all my actions and beliefs revolve around is 'excellence'. The theme of revenge and anger in propelling me to the unimaginable giddy heights of perfection and success dominates me completely. Perhaps the pain of being 'rejected' at birth moves me to frantically assure myself that I am not disposable, I am not flawed in any way, I am not worthless, and that I am in fact, perfect. It's pathological, I know. But by now it's been deeply ingrained in me. Without my anger, I feel no motivation to even attempt to write my own destiny.
Anger is addictive, it feeds on itself. It's undeniable, the raw power of anger, it is energy and pure force. It burns you, bends you, shapes you, molds you, changes you and in fact I believe it either makes you or breaks you. Inspiration seared by anger lasts much longer than ordinary motivation. Ordinary motivation doesn't satiate me. My thirst rages on. I thrive, I 'move' on the intoxication of anger; self-prophesying depression gives birth to that anger. See, depression is an inexhaustible source of creativity and inspiration. Anger, the offspring of depression and lethargy has come to become my main driving force. The anger directed at my past, the anger and helplessness in not being able to undo what has been. The anger to change, to create, to do and to achieve from this point on will enable me to shape my destiny according to my will.
