I don't know why I get so mad on the way home from work. I got a seat on the subway and everything, and yet I find myself, unprovoked, imagining people hurting Katie, or attacking the dog, and me jumping on these imaginary attackers, beating them, breaking their knees, choking them, gouging their eyes, biting them, smashing their heads against the ground.
I plug in my headphones and put on a song I know will calm me down. By the time I get upstairs to my apartment, I'm standing at the door, leaning against the wall, crying, wishing happiness to all living beings, wishing I had better control of my thoughts during the other times when I feel like I'm going to kill the next person who looks at me wrong.
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