Two versions of rage
Rage is weird. You think you’re over it and then it resurfaces. This time, my tongue went numb. I was so angry my skin vibrated and my mouth felt like it was full of bees. This isn’t an exaggeration. If I tried to explain what triggered the rage, you’d eventually get it, because I’m good with words, but you’d also just wonder if I might be ill. Silver-tongued illness. I actually can’t explain where this rage came from without it sounding hocus. I felt haunted.
You’re far from haunted, Anne. Look at what a charmed life you lead, Anne.
I know. I am very aware of how lucky I am. I do not take that for granted. In fact I decided now that I am not enraged anymore, I need to look into a practice of gratitude. Remember that time I found half of a drum set curbed on the street after I asked for a sign for the universe to keep playing?
I went into the drum studio on Saturday night and played with my rage, unironically, literally. I wanted to demolish these stupid instruments I’d found on the street. Though…as a pathologically practical person I have to say: I should be able to destroy these instruments because I’m expecting to complete a brand new drum set, any second now. Then I can start playing with new toys. I’m not counting on this to transform me of course, but knowing that I will have a new set soon helps me think of the found kit as dispensable. I’m rinsing a sample of its contents. An uneven hi-hat on a broken stand, a snare head with holes in it, a ride cymbal with a giant crack in it. Real quality materials.
I recorded three versions of rage-drumming with an iPhone precariously set on a nearby keyboard. In other words don’t bother listening to this as anything but a personal anthropology or EKG. It’s bad. I’m not fishing. But as a medical document I am fascinated by the tenors of rage: Version 1 is something I call “over-reading, over-explaining.” Version 2 is “I can hide this in a syncopation.” Version 3 is “I hate my entire fucking life.”
(The links are public and anonymous but expire in a few weeks because I’ll be so embarrassed I posted this in a month.)
Thing is, I’ll definitely keep the tester kit. I let go of nothing.