Memories.

"Memories can be the murder of one's present thoughts."

That epiphany came to me upon seeing a memory. Hated it! Wanted to hurt it!

But I chose not to. Civil and all. Too civil to be on this planet! Rage ran through me and I wanted to destroy and uproot a mountain, toss it into outer space then nuke it!

Destructive thoughts about a memory that perhaps doesn't even ponder me. No matter! It is mainly because I obsess. A bit neurotic. So, what? I acknowledge it. Amongst a percentage of folk that are nonviolent, mercilessly so.

An outlet of this memory is my best resort. I hate the spirit it embodies. Desire pain to be inflicted upon it, yet, my conscious mind is guilt ridden. What's that about? Wish I could erase it. It's strength has not come upon me as of yet. Still waiting...

Wish I'd think differently about it then my soul would be at ease. For now, it is troubled and rumbling like a storm.

Release, leaving remnants of peace.