Rage

Putting a Hand Inside the Mouth of the Beast

Copyright © 2025 Sanya Kurd

What comes to your mind when you read this word?

Part 01 - The reason for choosing this topic is obvious. Many posts that will later be published in this newsletter will be driven by rage; the rage of wanting to be heard, the rage built from years of contained sadness, the rage born from witnessing the discrimination that’s prevalent in many cultures. I see it. I witness it. I hear the sound of the bubbles in my blood boiling from seeing it.

Have you ever experienced a moment of rage yourself? Or have you only witnessed it?

Have you seen your father hitting your mother with full force?
Have you heard the shatter of glass when he threw it on the ground in rage?
Have you seen the blood dripping from your mother’s forehead after he pinned her violently against the wall?

Did you see his eyes?

Have you seen your mother chasing you with a metallic rod, shouting that she’s going to kill you?
Have you seen her hitting you with all her strength, pulling your hair, throwing anything she could find just to hit you?

Did you see her eyes?

Have you seen your dad shouting at you just because you spilled some cereal on the table?
Have you seen him throw a bottle at you that missed by just an inch?
Have you seen his bloodshot eyes every evening when he came home from work?
Have you seen him vent his anger on you like you’re his punching bag?

Did you look into his eyes?

Have you seen a man murder his daughter just because she went outside with her friends?
Have you seen the blood on his hands, watched him take pride in it, smearing it across his face like a badge of honor?
Have you seen the daughter lying lifeless on the floor, the glass shard beside her, the one used to slit her delicate throat?

What did you see in his eyes?

Have you met a woman who was violently pushed onto a bed in the name of love?
Have you heard her scream “DON’T,” but no one listened?
Have you seen her struggle to break free from the grip?
Have you seen her rubbing her legs against the bed in desperation, a defense mechanism?
Have you heard the screams and pleas coming from the depths of her soul?
Have you seen the assaulter’s strength as he tore her body apart?

What did you see in his eyes?

Have you seen the little boy who followed his uncle because he promised him more candies?
Have you seen the confusion in his eyes when someone began ripping his clothes?
Have you seen how violently he was tossed and turned, all in rage?

What was in his eyes?

I’m not writing this from a distance. I’ve seen such people. I’ve seen these eyes. I’ve met rage eye to eye. I’ve seen it up close. Those are distant memories, but I still carry the impact of rage. No matter what form, rage never brought anything good. It has brought nothing but chaos, war, destruction, death.

If you have also met rage in an unexpected gathering where it smiled at your vulnerable state, leaving you confused and helpless, where it peeled your skin from your cheekbones with a grin while you screamed from excruciating pain, then I’m truly sorry. I hope you’re doing okay now.

Rage is the reason behind many murders. It might not always be a physical death, as I’ve shown in the examples above. Rage takes the form of torture, abuse, toxicity, and verbal attacks. Many other examples could be given, but we’re saving time here. It becomes an active reason for emotional dissociation, grudges, and hatred.

Most of the time, this uncontrolled anger named ‘Rage’ is used as a means to hurt other people… some weak souls, some masses who work under your authority, or someone who is truly handicapped when it comes to taking a stand for themselves.

But sometimes, if bottled up for too long, even behind a happy face, it takes the hideous form of a beast that forces you to harm yourself.

Have you seen a young man who gave his best to the world?
Who tried everything to keep his loved ones happy?
Who put himself under the table so others could have what they needed?
Who tried to make life easier for those around him?
Who loved unconditionally?

Have you seen the glimmer, the shine in his eyes just fade away?

Have you seen how he was let down by everyone?

Have you sat with him in that dark place where he feels he’s no longer worth anything?

Have you seen him cutting his skin with the blades of despair?

Have you seen him slapping and punching his own body to punish himself?

Have you seen him starving himself because he believes he deserves the pain?

Have you seen his eyes?

What do you see?

What kind of rage is that?

Is it despair, regret, or self-hatred?

Or was he made to hate himself?

To Be Continued…

I don’t want to create lengthy posts for the reader’s convenience. In the next parts, we’ll explore short stories and try to dissect the underlying elements that feed rage.

If you have made it to the end, then please consider checking out my novel. I have published two chapters. I would love a review from you.

Stay safe and take care, you beautiful soul.

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Link to my novel