entries tagboard archives sights
questions

Why do people succumb to anger?


thoughts

It feels so easy to slip into its grasp. But at the same time, from a distance, it looks quite stupid. Aren't we overreacting? What's the point of hitting one another, yelling at one another, going to war with one another? Yet when are up close, immersed in anger, we feel nothing but blissful rage, if that makes sense. Sweet revenge empowers us. Makes us feel as if we are at the top of the world. Maybe it is a survival mechanism. But I sure wish it weren't.
Un crayon du bonheur

"Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn’t go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination."- Robert Fulghum

Let's put a smile on a person's face. It's easy, so why don't we do it more often?

I love it when people show love to all sorts of people. A person I know shows respect to everyone.. it's just heartwarming how she can make anyone feel comfortable. Even my bro!

I saw a nice scene yesterday. I looked out the window, and I saw on my driveway a sort of aura of white light. The sun was setting, yet for some reason it was all white. Its white beams reflected off the brown, wet driveway. It was beautiful. I still don't have a camera... And words don't capture anything very well..

Each day I am afraid to read a book on my own. I am afraid of not catching every detail. I feel that I won't want to read unless I capture every single detail the author has spun. I can't will myself to read anymore..

When I walk home, I notice all these details, and I am sad that I can never remember them. I love them for a second then forget.. Why must we forget what we love so quickly?