I am uncontrollably contemptuous at times, and it's terrifying and upsetting.
The negativity just seizes me when my I'm most vulnerable and least grounded, and for a long time, I could never understand where this hate originated. Did I learn it from someone? Did my culture indoctrinate me? Is it as natural to me as my instincts are?
There may or may not be any correlation between us, but I never forget the separate occasions, like flashbacks, when he was so incredibly, unjustifiably awful to strangers and family alike. It's sad how much those moments ruin for me the kindness that I know he's capable of. How is it that he's the kindest man I know with the most hateful temper I've ever witnessed? He's human, damnnnn right, and a breathing example of Manichaeism, I guess. As good as he is, he is equally unpleasant.
He always said, "War? What was growing up during the war like? War-time was the only period I grew up in, so it was the only life I knew. There was no war and life. There was only life."
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