This morning, I predicted that I would one day shit myself in a stalled elevator. If this does indeed happen, I will laugh uproariously, as will my wife.
Madness string 3009
I am nearing sixty now and the rage is gone. I sort of miss it sometimes. I never did anything stupid, to my abuser or to myself, or not much. Never had a satisfying victory. I didn't set out on a path of peace, climb the mountains of Tibet, or have some brilliant insight. I just carried on, and things sort of faded.