Rage On

Lately, everything has been great. The laundry is updated, I’m almost completely packed for my glorious trip to Rhode Island, and I finished some needed work (my Paypal officially has my married name and I deposited a check). However, for some reason I feel like raging.

It’s not like I’m even pissed at anything. I am completely happy that I’ve accomplished so much. I’m looking good in my new workout clothes, I’m going to be setting up an Etsy store soon, and I’m doing well. But, I just want to rage! Has anyone else ever had that feeling? Have you ever wanted to just run around and scream so loud that your neighbors think you’re being murdered, or murdering someone? Have you ever wanted to just run to a random stranger or someone you really dislike and just lay out all the nitty details of your dislike? Have you ever wanted to just look up to the heavens and curse whoever lives there?

Right now, that’s how I feel. I think I have some pent up anger and I don’t even know where it’s from. Or maybe, I just want to scream and get all that excess energy out.

The thing that just popped in my head is the poem “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas. In case you don’t know the poem:

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO
THAT GOOD NIGHT

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right, 
Because their words had forked no lightning they 
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright 
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, 
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, 
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight 
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I have heard that this poem is about fighting death, but I believe there are other interpretations. I just can’t remember what. Anyways, this poem has just popped in my head and it’s true… if it’s about fighting death. I don’t plan on going gentle, I will rage on. I don’t plan on sitting it out, I will dance on my own grave. Now that I think about it, my rage is the passion within my motivation. I’m changing and I’m loving it. I’m changing into a woman ready to really rage on.

Rage on.

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