My Blind Rage

There is always the other side to everything. This the rage does not see. Rage is so blinding that it leaves all reasoning and sympathy behind. There is no right or wrong, there is just white blinding rage.
There are zingers that you never knew were capable of shooting. It leaves you so selfish that you are devoid of whatever  empathy is left in your bones. There is no right or wrong, there is just white blinding rage.
Nothing is fair. Nothing seems fair. Everyone is on the other side, against you. And the ones next to you, there is blind expectation of them taking whatever your rage throws at them and not utter a word. Listen to all the insults and yet come see you with a smile on their face the next day. That seems fair. There is no right or wrong, there is just white blinding rage.
After some time, the rage reaches a point where it just about had enough of people being so densely unsympathetic that it makes you want to shut yourself down in a room and let all the poison flow down your eyes. There is no right or wrong even then, there is just white blinding rage.
Eventually, the monster settles down. The silent human, that is you steps out. And you look around the debris of destruction the monstrous selfish unsympathetic you that has left behind. There is silence, but the deal was done.
There is pain and remorse boiling inside my conscience. There was the right that I ignored. It was easy to blame it on you and make you the stranger on the other side. It was my blinding white rage of destruction dealing with the end of your mortal existence.
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