Vast amounts of bitching. (Possibly interrrupted by Flint walking on me or my computer...)
When I was eleven (or there about), after I had behaved very badly, I remember my father telling me, "There is a vicious streak in you that is deeply unattractive." And he's right: viciousness is deeply unattractive.
As is rage.
Of course anger has its place; it's an emotion that at times needs an expression and a release.
But if you rage out over a paper cut? If you storm around and punch things because of a stubbed toe?
Jesus H Fucking Bloody Kerrist.
Dear testosterone: rage is deeply unattractive in a human. In other words, fuck you, and fuck off; I refuse to deal with your shit.
No, really, I'm gonna be brutal here, boys: how old are you? Are you five years old, that you have so little control over your emotions?
No?
Then close your eyes and count to ten or hum a mantra or whatever shit it is you do to get some fucking self control. I have zero sympathy for your plight. Anyone who rages out when not in a life or death situation - loses.
Also, at the end of the day, I don't want to be around that level of shit. I've been quite fastidious in not surrounding myself with raging arseholes - there's a good fucking reason for this.
This is harsh, but, I don't care about your reasoning, your doom, your flashbacks, your papercuts, your shit. All I see right now is you punching the wall like an idiot, and I don't want to play any part in that drama. Do you actually really have PTSD? Did I sign on for that? (If yes, that's fine, if no, there is a rolled up newspaper or possibly a blade that has a date with your head, because just as whilst being sad isn't the same as manic depression, bad memories are not the same as PTSD.)
Have you ever watched yourself? Listened to yourself when you flip out? When in rage mode you are a small apocalypse in a living room. t's a shit storm of ranty violent stupidity. And it's not really fun.
No wonder he refuses to talk to you right now.
In the end?
Anyone can have a rage-out hulk-smash fit if they like; punch stuff, whatever.
But don't expect me to hang around.
As is rage.
Of course anger has its place; it's an emotion that at times needs an expression and a release.
But if you rage out over a paper cut? If you storm around and punch things because of a stubbed toe?
Jesus H Fucking Bloody Kerrist.
Dear testosterone: rage is deeply unattractive in a human. In other words, fuck you, and fuck off; I refuse to deal with your shit.
No, really, I'm gonna be brutal here, boys: how old are you? Are you five years old, that you have so little control over your emotions?
No?
Then close your eyes and count to ten or hum a mantra or whatever shit it is you do to get some fucking self control. I have zero sympathy for your plight. Anyone who rages out when not in a life or death situation - loses.
Also, at the end of the day, I don't want to be around that level of shit. I've been quite fastidious in not surrounding myself with raging arseholes - there's a good fucking reason for this.
This is harsh, but, I don't care about your reasoning, your doom, your flashbacks, your papercuts, your shit. All I see right now is you punching the wall like an idiot, and I don't want to play any part in that drama. Do you actually really have PTSD? Did I sign on for that? (If yes, that's fine, if no, there is a rolled up newspaper or possibly a blade that has a date with your head, because just as whilst being sad isn't the same as manic depression, bad memories are not the same as PTSD.)
Have you ever watched yourself? Listened to yourself when you flip out? When in rage mode you are a small apocalypse in a living room. t's a shit storm of ranty violent stupidity. And it's not really fun.
No wonder he refuses to talk to you right now.
In the end?
Anyone can have a rage-out hulk-smash fit if they like; punch stuff, whatever.
But don't expect me to hang around.