I've always been warned of the supposed dangers of changing between extreme temperatures at a rapid pace, that it strains the heart. Now ignoring the obvious and somewhat anxsty symbolism in the last few words of that disclaimer, I've been wondering lately if that same fact can be applied to mood swings. Especially considering the hot and cold characterstics we place on our varying states of mind. It's not a question I often ask myself, as I consider myself and my mood to be fairly consistent. But there are times when underneath all of my patience, my balance, and my humor, I feel something stir. Luckily, I always get warning enough to remove myself from anything that I might find negatively provocative in my altered state. Little wisps of white hot steam on the insides of my nostrils, sent up from what will soon be a raging inferno, watering my eyes on its way to grip my brain. As soon as I feel it, those first sparks striking the walls of my lungs and that black smoke that I could swear spills from my eyes, I head for peaceful seclusion. Safe from the world and myself. I've never attempted to wrestle emotions with writing before, surprisingly, and I'm not sure if I'm actually managing to hold it off or if it's just taking longer than usual this time. I just keep feeling these burning letters, lighting the inside of my head like a neon sign outside a bedroom window, silently shouting "get out!" "Get out before the flames come..." And here I am, sitting in my kitchen at home blogging about my rage, listening to Chevelle, laughing at the melodrama of it all. I guess it's just not possible to be contradictory person without moments of clash. I just didn't realize the softer, calmer aspects of my personality would withstand the first charge. They always prove themselves to be the superior fighters, as I'm rarely angry, but I guess it's no surprise that they do so slowly and calmly. I might always win the war, but each battle takes a little more, a few more casualties, a few smaller aspects of me lying amongst the wreckage. I think I feel that stirring again. Until next time readers.