Thursday, September 30, 2004

Ice Cold Hatred

How long would it take before he got over the ice cold hatred?

He remembered his father raging to his mother. Every time that happened, father got so worked out that he was shaking out of sheer anger, words coming out as a hiss from between his teeth.

Cold hatred inside of him, it was almost inhuman. It was so cold it burned him. He could feel his blood boiling like cryogenic nitrogen in room temperature.

He had learned restraint, not to show those feelings mulling inside him. His face was a cold emotionless mask, so hard he had to keep the hatred from emerging.

Where did all this hatred come from? He didn't like the thoughts in his head but they came and went independent of his volition.

Cold hatred was a reaction of a wounded animal, pushed into a corner. Every day the same thought would circulate through his brain: "I hate you". There were so many things, situations and people who made him do that; his soul grabbed, held as hostage by ice cold hatred.

As long as this hatred reigned over him, all those feelings that he mistook for love were only signs of his obsession, his unwillingness to let go, to hold on to something that was not there. His soul would be just an empty husk, reality a monster constantly trying to devour him.