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July 30, 1997 8:44AM EST I finally got the rest of the lyrics to a song that I've been looking for for a while. It's great to finally understand that line and see how much it clears up in the rest of the song. We had a fight last night. We were both too tired I suppose. Little stupid words that didn't really mean anything. Me not handling my insecurities, blowing everything up, making mountains out of molehills. And then I apologized too much, couldn't stop blabbering on and on. Couldn't stop crying. Sometimes I'm such a basket case. Just crumple right up like a piece of used note paper. It's only when the burden of everything gets too big that this kind of thing happens. All the everyday things that build up until I just want to scream and tear my hair out. And eventually it explodes out into something nasty and my poor dear is right in the path of the explosion. I despise having a violent temper. I've fought it all of my life, whittling it down to controlled bursts of anger from the rampages and tantrums that used to shake my small frame. I used to run screaming around the playground when I was teased, trying to beat up the people who put me down. I wasn't fast enough to catch them. Having a temper is a trial, a constant struggle for self-control, for the mastery of one's emotions. I don't like being so "all over the place." Especially since control usually involves a kind of compression of my feelings which ends up yielding a certain self-righteousness, a haughtiness and reserve which gives the impression of arrogance in my behavior. Just like my father. It's terrible how I kept trying so hard NOT to be like him. And I still wound up being like him. I guess it's inevitable when you share that much genetic material. In a sense my emotional make-up is a tragic mistake: I have all of my mother's emotionality blended with my father's temper and egotistical self-absorption. In other words, I get angry easily, I'm stubborn, have trouble admitting I'm wrong and when I'm hurt inside I withdraw to lick my wounds. So I come off as being cold, arrogant and unpleasant. Great. Just great. Only people who know me see my softer side, the side which likes to help people out, which is very maternal and nurturing. Sometimes I feel like Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde. Two faces, one gentle and caring, the other raging mad and violent. And I have no idea how to reconcile them. As the alien in Contact said to Ellie Arroway: "Your species is capable of such beautiful dreams, and such terrible nightmares." |