I got all worked up in a intended blog post, over the weekend. It was ranty, internal, melodrama sort of stuff. We do that and feel icky about it, or at least I do. It was about marriage and family, the problems of male and female. I thank the Uncaused Caused that I didn’t, that ethereal editor was amped up over the weekend. Maybe it’s a dying spiteful 2017, donning his funereal vestment. Whiskey on the rocks in one hand, something smoking in the other.
In the middle of our arguing, I lost my voice. Had a bad cold thing brewing. I realized the lost voice was a huge blessing in a way. There’s something very dangerous, beautiful, and ugly in the rant. My wife is such a calm, level headed person, the anima inspired rant can get her into a confused swirl. She’s forced to latch on to extra-spicy bits and perry from there.
I think about it. Why do some people get it, some don’t. Some are fighters, some aren’t. I think everyone wants to be. Like animals, we want to be free to impulse.