Purging
I want to come clean. I want to admit that I was creating it… all that violence in my head (explained in the previous post). I have never seen those kids, who had supposedly tortured the puppy. But, when I read the story, I created the torture scene in my head, which consequently tortured myself and bred intense resentment and hatred toward those kids in me. I wanted them to be punished for what they have done… actually - what I thought they have done. I don’t know what they have done. All I know is what I have done, and I have tortured myself imagining them torturing the puppy. So, who created violence in that moment as I sat there reading the animal abuse story after seeing the gory photo of the puppy? Was it them or me? It was me. I was thinking why Facebook shows such horrible photos and stories, why I can’t block them, why people are so fucked up, why the world is so cruel, what the hell is wrong with people in the country I was born?! I even hated my homeland so so very much, I hated Georgians for the entire day, and thereby, I was hating me, torturing myself, replaying this violence over and over again in my head. Then, I talked to a pen pal, and as I vented my pain to her, she told me that someone above must have an interesting sense of humor. I asked why, she said that this song suddenly started playing on her apple music. Funny, I have never listened to any of Selena’s songs, but this one had me bawling. Nothing happens by accident. And so, I decided to do a worksheet on this. And I did, and I cried and I cried and I cried… and I felt the truth I needed to feel when I first saw the photo and read its story. What can we do to spread love and kindness amongst kids in Georgia, or anywhere really. I don’t know. I know what I can do. Protect strays, animals, and especially them - the kids.
Dear Kids,
I’m sorry for hating you… resenting you.
I’m sorry for wanting you to get punished.
I was lost, and now I’m found.
I don’t know what those kids have done or have not done. But, I know what reading about violence did to me. It made me violent, and also it taught me that its skin is not what I want to wear.
Dear Violence,
I apologize for hating you… resenting you.
I’m sorry for wanting you to get punished.
You were just doing your job.
Thank you for having me experience you.
Thank you for waking me up and allowing me to see.