Anger

Anger. Clear, transparent and consuming. It’s a weird emotion. It lies dormant in you, waiting for the right time. Waiting for the time when you flick on that switch in your mind, and then it arises, consuming your thoughts, your ideas, your rationality and everything else until all that’s left is that pure, undiluted anger. 
The mind turns inside out, revolting against things it normally loves. It brings out an inner self, a self that can only be called by that emotion. And that self seems truer, more close, more real than any other self that you thought belonged to you.

It takes over your actions and your words, and gives you the strength to do what you could never normally do. It never thinks about you, it only cares for itself, and once you two have merged, what it wants, is what you want.

I don’t know if it’s bad or if it’s good. I don’t know if it should be gotten rid of or embraced. I don’t know if you do what’s good or what's bad in its presence. All I know is, it makes things extremely clear, and painfully real, and yet it gives you the power to face a pain which could otherwise have destroyed you.