For personal reasons, as the moronic expression goes, I got quite angry today. Furious. Enraged, as a matter of fact. It was late afternoon when I realized I could put my emotions to some use. I got a sickle and a pair of heavy-duty gloves, and I went to the jungle in the narrow alley to the north of my house. God almighty, how I attacked the weeds! The way I felt, the sickle was not necessary, either. I tore everything in sight with my hands. I even thought of tossing the gloves away, but then I checked myself. Some of the weeds could hurt me, too. As I worked up a good sweat, I calmed down a bit. By the time I was finished, I was smiling. The next time I get really angry, I will let my emotions loose on the jungle in the narrow alley to the south of my house.

Addendum (May 30, 2007)

My anger still gnawing at me, today I returned to the alley to the north of my house. Surviving my last attack, there basked the ivy covering much of the wall of what used to be the neighboring house at Borgo 16. The alley is mine, but the crumbling wall is not. A small section of it has collapsed recently, partly because of the intrepid ivy, and partly because of all the cars, vans, and trucks parked there over the years, mainly in connection with the reconstruction of this section of Borgo. But how I attacked the ivy! Tenacious as it is, it took quite an effort, too. By the time I was finished, exposing a tilting wall that cannot but collapse within a few years, I had blisters on my hands. No matter. It is still a joy to remember the jungle to the south of my house. Now I smile whenever I feel the pangs of my lingering anger.