6:17 pm. My eyes became eyes of anger. Eyes of separation. My ears became ears of anger — seeds of rage. All of these senses bloomed from within me. Nothing outside. Nothing outside. No external thing, no external force holds the reason. Every seed of fire, every ash — it is mine. Built by me. Accumulated by me.

Rather than burning all this fuel at once — let it burn slowly, as the smallest of embers, continuously, releasing as it goes. I forgive myself — the one who could not see within and projected outward. May my quietly burning fire always exist. May I tend it. Guard it. Let it burn slowly. May I be able to hold my anger, my rage — and carry it with grace.

I repent, holding the entire universe within. Until everything burns — I allow anger its eternal, self-consuming flame.

The fire I created myself — I searched for its cause outside. But the cause was always mine. The anger, built by me. Rather than burning it all at once and projecting it outward in foolish sin — I let it burn slowly. Little by little. Like a small, steady ember, always alight. And by this — I allow all anger to burn, until every last flame has run its course.