Some Dark Things

I'm well aware of some dark things that have been growing in me for several years. It's as though all my hurts + frustrations of a lifetime havee settled into their own secret place in my psyche, + fermented into a potion of hate.

I haven't let it loose yet. But I'm afraid of the passionate moment of impatience or frustration when my guard is down just long enough to let it vent in public. Or some time when my mental faculties have been wasted by disease or age; then the torrent is let loose.

Once again, I wonder if I am an angel - different in some fundamental way s from everyone else. And once again, I'm sure I'll discover that this is in other humans, too. It's probably part of the core of humanity - one part we prefer to keep chained in the closet to the point where we don't remember even having the closet.

I'll see a black person and impulsively think, "Nigger". I'll watch a person typing on a keyboard or otherwise searching for something in a slightly different way than I'd do it, and I think with a sigh, "Poor John". Why do I do this? I'm afraid that some day I'm going to do something like that to the face of a friend, and then I'll be mortified and my friend will be unbelieving and I'll know I can never get something back that was just then lost.

- Lone Coyote Calls