It would be foolish to not see that I have changed from how I used to be.
Back then I was angry with a constant murmur inside the mind – infused with hatred, resentment, bitterness, and unrequited success – cursing the universe and the people whosoever entered into the throes of my life.
I would not recognize anger as anger but rather as a valid emotion expressed as part of the story that I had believed to be true. Anger and hatred were normal, a summation of all that had been and all that is yet to happen. But, in the moment of anger, I would not know that I was angry.
The realization would be a future event.
These days, the vitriolic chatter has reduced as has the gap between the origin and recognition of a vile emotion.
In it I have changed.