Dear Wilson,
Being human is the process of civilizing yourself. Being human is trying to tame your inner chaos. By that standard, I'm not that good at being a human.
Some days I look inwards and am scared of how much violence is within. Pacing in a cramped cage, I feel myself burning from inside out, like an attentive captive waiting to escape its careless guards. Over the years I have kept an eye on it, but I don't know how much longer I can imprison the violence within the rage.
I swallow my violence day after day. Self-sabotage, they call it. But if I don't hurt myself, then I must hurt someone else. But I've hurt too many people in my past lives, the sin of which can only be redeemed by hurting myself.
Only when I dig the blade into my arm, dragging it across the creased skin, I feel the burning rage slowly dying out. Greedily I watch the dark crimson blood dripping down onto the table, finally feeling relieved. First it flows like water, then thickens into viscous jam, before blossoming in the spring rain. Closing my eyes, I step outside into the cool rain, inhaling the crisp air that anticipates the coming of the heat. I look upward into the sky, letting my soul be soothed by the water, fully knowing that I might not survive the summer heat.
-H