Human meanness

Have been breaking my sleeping patterns lately. I sleep early evening and wake up a little bit too early in the morning. Today I was up by 4am. I could have read a book but me thinks I have to rest my mind from all my hard-core bedtime readings. I finished “The Book of Ruth” by Jane Hamilton a week ago. T’was pretty funny … not hilarious funny … but troubled funny, ironic funny … poignant even. It deals with our human nature for meanness. Some have it more than others. Some have it in small doses. Some don’t have it at all … till something explodes.

I sort of have this meanness in me. I could be chillingly cold at times; and I can be disturbingly practical, or upsettingly neglectful, or overly emotional. But I am seldom furious … or fuming. I have a certain fondness of translating all my anger to tears. So it is safe to say that I cry a lot. That is if I can’t express my outrage through some form of exercise (i.e. dancing, walking, shouting at something that would not shout back, or punching something that would not punch back). I pretty beat myself up by crying - the best therapy for me. I don’t like hurting people; because hurting people would most probably only hurt me more.

There are exceptions to this rule however. Sometimes it just feels damn good to bust somebody’s chops (I meant figuratively) – but only if they deserve it. I have slapped someone hard ... twice ... without remorse ... then kissed him furiously after – hahahaha. Daw sa gaga! What can I do? I loved him (long ago). Hahaha. Ok, ok … I’m pathetic! My human meanness is REALLY LAME! I wonder what I’ll be like if I finally do explode.

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