The earliest memory of me being angry was back in the old house in Pelangi, where I would play badminton with my neighbour, Jeffery. Now Jeffery was about 2 years older than me, and when you're that young, 2 years is a lifetime of experience. But for some reason, it never got into my head that this guy was older than me, taller than me, fitter than me, had played this sport before, blah blah blah.
All i can remember was that he beat me every single time. We never even had to keep score. It was that certain. And i remember raging like mad. I swung at the plants, I swung at the insects, I stuck the badminton racquet into the dirt, I tore the feathers out of the shuttles, I raged. Oh yes I did.
But rage is never a good way to make friends, or keep them. It's also never a good thing if your parents can beat the stuffing out of you if you rage too much and break stuff. I was passive throughout primary school. Again, it never got into my head that I wouldn't run as fast as some, wouldn't be able to work the monkey bars like a... monkey, and that I would always get laughed at whenever I read out chinese in class.
And I raged, in silence. Or I used the rage to make warheads out of staples. Or I masked the rage by crying. It was the in-thing.
I decided I would suppress the rage in secondary school. This was a new leaf. A fresh slate. And I would try, to the best of my ability, to be a model of peace.
"Peace? I hate the word." -Tybalt
Of course it didnt last very long. And the secret wrestling matches that took place at Tanglin CC, which left many of us with bruises and bloody lips were an outlet.
By the time I hit JC, i was raging through music - and i have to thank Eminem and Ateet for that. If not for that stuff, I'd probably have killed someone, or numerous little animals in rage.
Then uni, and this time, I'd just plain given up. I let the rage consume me, and I BECAME rage. And the rage, tempered with the civility of "maturity" equaled SARCASM, which is a WONDROUS thing.
And i sarcasm-ed my way through uni, numerous essays and presentations. But even then, tempered sarcasm is still not as liberating as PURE white-hot rage.
Pure rage doesnt mean vengeance, it doesnt require a target, an objective, or a source. It is just an explosion of energy, mental and physical, that is chaotic, natural and spontaneous.
I found it in sport. I found it in the gym. And i thank those who introduced them to me.
Even now, 15min into a tennis warmup, I might send a backhand out of the court and just let out an animalistic scream. Oh, that shit is liberating. And addictive.
It influences the way I work. I work at a rapid pace in the morning. I storm into the office, greet and nod at my colleagues, throw my bag onto my desk and start to furiously dial numbers, hand out assignments and tabulate... stuff. By the time lunch rolls around I am spent, but I'm still ANGRY.
And I stomp into the board room, ready for the next meeting. I make it a habit to be 10min early. So that, even if im just a lowly engineer, when the directors walk in, *I* am the first one to greet them and welcome them. It is similar to how Nadal sprints to the end of the court after the coin toss.
It sends the signal, "You are entering into my domain." You take ownership of the situation.
I write down on a small piece of paper, all the points I want to make, so that I dont get blinded by rage and go on a rant. I am angry when the meeting starts, and I attack all issues aggressively, and I am angry when the meeting ends.
The directors say they like that, and I get angrier.
//End of rant.
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