Peter Hollens - into the West
I sit and wonder, and think, if I'm supposed to be here. If I'm going to make a difference in someones life. I attribute that the reason, the main reason, why I do what I do now. I want to make a difference in someones life. A significant difference.
"If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here. I would have made that wrong choice, and done something stupid..."
I want to be remembered, if anything were to happen to me. Not be the subject of grief, pain and anguish, but of smiles and laughter. I was talking with a friend, a very close friend, of mine last night. Elly. I have mentioned her before. One of the greatest people I've ever known. I told her that I'm getting tired of this world. This pit of hell. Earth. No, you're right though, it does seem great, the people on it one of the most adaptable people one has ever known. A willpower to rival that of gods. (Not God, but gods. take notice in that.) Myself, I've a willpower that has moved mountains, has changed the way people think about things, changed the way they act. I haven't met anyone who has been able to shake my willpower if I don't want it shaken.
I was told by a close friend of mine, that my virtue defines me. My high moral standards would be my defining characteristic. My dad also said that he knew the kind of life I was going to go through. That he knew it was going to be hard. That me, as his son, was foretold, to be the person I am today. This person with such high moral standards, most people think I'm rather odd. I'm gay, a furry, into BDSM as a lifestyle, and my morals are much hither than the normal persons.
But then, there are times, where I have such dark thoughts. Mostly when I'm alone. These dark thoughts would make the most rock hard person pale. The ease of the actions in my thoughts would be. How easy it would be for me to do them, if I allowed it. But I won't do that, because then I would become such a monster. My sister told me one day that I need to embrace that side of me sometimes.
"You can't have the light, without the dark."
That is very true. But I've got a lot of dark. Enough that, if I wanted, or needed, I could act out those thoughts. Those images in my head that surface when alone. When in a bad mood, or what have you. Such wanton rage, unleashed. Exploding out of me after being kept bottled up for twenty five years. I don't think anyone can handle it. I know it would lead to violence. And I detest that. The people that deserve that rage, they live in Nevada. Though, truthfully, they couldn't survive it. So I keep it hidden. Locked away. Some sometimes leaks out. I am unable to help that.
I have done what my therapist in Nevada told me to do. To acknowledge the thought, then let it pass. I've done that for a long time. And it does work. But then the thought lingers, and I act out scenarios in my head. What the triggers for said scenarios would be. Most times, it was just that I stopped caring. Caring about consequences. The need to let the rage go. The need to utilize that one outlet that I would find, that I've been lacking for so long. I don't want it to explode out of me. Its come close a lot. I've always fought it back. I'm afraid of what it could do, if I were to let it go. I'm not talking just sobbing in my boyfriends arms. Yea, that's a great release, but to let the rage come out, I would need to break things.
The potential for physical destruction I would have is a lot. I remember when my Samsung TV died. I turned it on, and saw that it was broken, I almost lost it. I took a hammer and started beating one of the cat posts. I let it bubble over for a couple of minutes. I scared the hell out of my boyfriend when i did that too. But I couldn't keep it in any longer that day. That day was pretty crappy already. So I let a rather small portion of that rage out. It felt rather good, but also scared my boyfriend, which I don't want to do. I don't want him to think that I'm some sort of monster. That I've let everything out. I also don't want to hurt him in any way. The last time I let loose on him when a small portion of that rage got out, I made him cry for an hour and a half. I dun wanna do it again.
But those thoughts in my head. They are disturbing, and scare the shit out of me. That me being capable of doing those things terrifies me. That all it would take is for me to be in a bad mood, and for someone to trigger it, and then well, instead of working at a prison, I'll be in prison. My willpower is the only thing that has stopped me from doing anything. My "I know I'm better than that." But then I ask, now, "What would a normal person do?"
Are these thoughts the reason why my white wings have tips of black? Are these impulses getting stronger? Will I be able to hold them back until its time? Or will they leak out before hand, and destroy everything I've worked so hard to establish? I hope not. I really like life now.
