Let me channel the Western psyche...
This Russian aggression in Ukraine has not yet kindled my anger...
I've moved through other shades of emotion: profound sadness over the needless loss on both sides, and a cold, intellectual assessment of the hellish intentions the Russian leaders harbor for us all—Ukraine first, the world next. But no, not anger, not yet. My journey through grief of course begins in denial: I look out upon the green expanse of our pale blue dot and my senses mislead my mind into believing all is well, that this war will not escalate to touch me. I feel untouched, immune...
Yet, the wrath of the Old Testament, as fierce as my denial, is sure to come. For years, I have denied the brutal realities of this war because its flames have not yet scorched me. But the day looms when the enormity of this war will sear itself into my heart, and I will be consumed by its blaze. There will be no room for bargaining, only a desire for retribution, a chemical fire that must burn itself out.
I shun anger for the monstrosity it births within me. But when my anger awakens, it will be relentless. Hear this warning, Russia: you are playing with fire. My responses have been measured, but know that the floodgates of my fury, once opened, will not close. Bound by this incipient rage, I will not stop, rest, or give quarter.
Once intoxicated by the grapes of wrath, there will be no end, no cessation, until it consumes both the object of my ire or myself. And I know too well how to incite anger in others. This flame, once lit, will exact a terrible toll, far beyond what my state of denial could have ever anticipated. For I will not bend; the fire of wrath will sustain me.
It is time that you are worried what I will do!
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