Fury

Blood boiling. Making the tip of the ears grow warm.

I feel a lump on my throat. The same lump I always get when I'm about to cry.

The corner of the eyes starts to whelm up with liquid.

I seem to have a knack to faithfully transform my anger into tears. I do it all the time.

My moist fingers feels like cool marble. It dances wildly across the keyboard. Words and phases string in my mind faster then my fingers can deliver. No wonder my fingers are so frantic.

If my heartbeats are like fire, then fury is now my coal. It beats vividly. Angrily. Underneath those earphones, I can hear it's trashing.



I'm pouring out all that's been locked up. All I ever wanted to say, or more, before but didn't have the chance.

Lashing out. It feels good.
Make him pay. Make him feel guilty.
Oh, the raging voices in my head.

While my whole body is hot and flustered, shivering with frustration... I caught something.

A small still voice.
It's a cooling voice. Very unlike the ones from my head.
It doesn't come from my head. I feel it come lower... it seem to come from my heart... or even deeper... my gut... or womb.
It's like a fresh tiny blue Tic-Tac. Little but undoubtedly there.

I can feel the difference between those voices. The ones in my head, they seem to be a lot of them. The small fresh voice, seems like there's only one.
I give them colours now.
The angry loud controlling voices, I give them red. The small still voice, I give it blue.

Blue voice, like a fresh mist, whispers, Why, child? Is this right?

Even though I did not reply the blue voice, I have the answer.
I know I'll go too far if I don't stop now.

I quit feeding red voices.

They were mad. They yelled back at blue voice. They were here first, they seem to shout.

But what happened next surprise me, I learn that I seem to be in charge.
As long as I stop feeding red voices, their furious yells have no power.
They were living on my rage. Like parasites. They live on anger.

I stop shoving coals of fury to my heart. Their red shots fades away.

My fingers started slowing down. Beats from my heart follows. Warmth flows back to my fingertips.

All the rage died down.
Like a scene you see in movies after a house burns down? That's how the fury in me feels now.
Weak. Dying. Black soot all over the place.

Ahh... but the damage is done. That's what fury always do. Leave an ugly mark.

But nevermind that for now.

I try to look for the blue voice. But I can't seem to trace it back. Like I state before, it's like a mist. It disappear just as fast as it appears.

I want to tell blue voice, thank you, for reminding me.