365 Days (Part 2) | ✓

207. Volcano

207. Volcano: Write about an eruption of a volcano.

You're shaking, whether from pain or anger is uncertain. Little shivers drip down your arms and back; you catch the slightest breeze and tremble, because it's freezing you. Nothing satisfies you. Music doesn't soothe, words do not comfort. You wish desperately for a way to demonstrate your emotions as a way of confronting them, but there is no option available other than taking your boiling rage into your own soul and letting it ruin you. It poisons your tongue and darkens the edges around your thoughts, like an old frayed photo beyond repair. You think of how easy pain is caused and wonder what it's all worth. Will you escape this vortex of hatred tearing at your flesh and the maddening urge to lash out at other people? You want to make them feel like you do.

Your hands shake, but only you feel the tremors. They are cold, like they are dead. You feel both hot and cold. Your stomach muscles feel like they're stretched tight. Tears gather in your eyes. They cling to your eyelashes, but you almost wish they would fall, so you can scream at the world "Look what you have done to me!" They do not fall.

You want to scream and curse the world. You want to give it pain. Yet at the same time, underneath, you despise yourself for this rage inside of you. The shame isn't strong enough to negate your rage, but it is present. Even more confusing, you don't want a reprieve. You want to dwell in your inner turmoil and agony. It is a kind of dirty pleasure, to be furious and indulge in your fury.

Then you let go. You release the coiled tension and unbound in one glorious spectacle of fury; later, the regret will come. But now, you are powered by a limited but strong river of rushing, unadulterated rage.

You erupt.