I know that I've been going on a rampage lately.
In the past I probably wasn't a better person; I just didn't have any thoughts at all. Thinking back, when I related my stories and people made sounds of outrage, only then would it (belatedly) occur to me that there was something to be mad about. Or something to feel anything about.
So maybe now I'm just further exploring the realm of 'feeling'—that is, feeling unpleasant things.
I'm sure if I sat down and had a long look in myself, I'd come up with the reason why I'm so irritable lately. Why little things set me off and why I'm on another rampage to throw things out the house (am I the only one who hates living surrounded by junk?)
But in a twisted and relatable way, being angry just feels so good.
Better than feeling enlightened.
Better than feeling sorry.
Being angry makes me feel right.
I do know that these are the words of a doomed fool.