I always thought that I would never get mad in front of people other than family. After all, I never really thought bad about anyone, and at most I hated my enemies with a quiet vengeance that soon fades away. I've been proven wrong, time and again. My anger bursts through the bars and I burn with it.

I thought it was under control. I try to think, to be rational. It did not work. My mind veered towards the irrational. Oh, it's so tempting. To just let out all the anger and frustration of dealing with those who can not keep up, who are not able to understand. And try as I might I cannot resist the call of temptation.

I shouted at the person I once called a friend. The frustration of dealing with group mates who are not up to par, the fatigue from practicing dance steps and cymbals beats again and again all came together to form a burning blaze. Was it so wrong to give in to it? Should I just have tried to let things be, and forget about it? Maybe I should have. But my anger reached the boiling point and bubbled over.

I do not feel sorry over it. Maybe I could have done something else, and be the vengeful demon I am. But I will not. I will not let my work, my child be left behind. And despite everything, we've made it this far. I will not give up now.