Like tattoos and regrets, words I never meant...

He is slowly learning that he should treat anger like flowing water; there's nothing wrong with it as long as he lets it flow. For he has learnt that anger that he denied himself the freedom to feel, the freedom to flow, became water that was gathered in one place and left to forget. And stagnant water becomes dirty, stinky, disease-ridden, poisonous, deadly; that is his hate. After awhile, on the surface of flowing water, he notices little paper boats making the extremely slow way down the current. He would like to think of them as harbingers of forgiveness. He is human, despite it all.