Quitting smoking introduced me to a new side of my personality. There was a thunder cloud where my aura ought to be. It drove my nails into my palms at the first sign of conflict. There’s Dr. Jekyll, there’s Mr. Hyde and then there’s Sir Nicotine Withdrawal. Guess which one would win in a fight?

I found myself grinding my teeth at the announcement of each new homework assignment, gripping the desk, like the Hulk preparing to launch a car into a building. I saved my short supply of nicotine gum for just such an occasion. These anger attacks weren’t justified by any slight against me, they just were.

This got me thinking about the nature of anger, how I’m predisposed to feel it, with or without cigarettes.

Sometimes my Subconscious Mind just observes something, a song or a fashion trend, and says, “I hate that.”

My Conscious Mind says, “Care to explain why you hate that? Could you show me the data that brought you to said conclusion?”

My Subconscious frowns, shakes it’s head, a child who didn’t get the toy he wanted. He says, “I hate it therefore you hate it. We both hate it.”

My Conscious Mind sighs. His exhale whistles through his teeth like a tea kettle. He says, “You don’t know a thing about the thing you hate, but you want to make up both our minds for us.”

My Subconscious nods, “And I’ll keep bring it up until I get my way.”

This 2 minute audio short is about that internal arguement our conscious minds have with our subconscious, our super-egos with our ids, our brains versus our guts. It’s the 2nd audio short to feature haunting music and won’t be the last. Enjoy!

The Baseless Hate

I hate its accent
More than what it says
I hate its manor
More than what it does

I hate its shadow
More than its form
I hate its parts
More than its whole

I hate its taste
Though I’ve never had it
I hate the challenge it poses
Though I’ve never done it

I hate everything
I know about it
I hate everything
I don’t know about it

My hatred grows
The further I am from it
My hatred grows
The less I can recall it

I hate it in dreams
Where it bears no resemblance
To the thing I hate
In the waking world

My hatred is cheap
Easy won
Baseless
And impulsive
It draws from notions
That I can’t trace
Experiences
I’ve already forgotten

It shoots its tentacles
At the dark
And latches onto
Anything it touches
It’s a knot
In my gut
That’s easier to function with
Than untie