Prologue
For a long time now, I have been waiting for this moment…
For a long time, I have wished to find meaning in my existence and to turn my path into a one-way journey—one where even happiness feels small when compared to the poetic pleasure of living a theatrical life.
And if I am gone… will anyone remember me? Who will speak of me? Whose life will I have changed?
I am not sure that any of that matters much now. I only know that it was entirely worth it.
Anger… anger is the apex that irritation and resentment reach before giving way to violence.
Anger marks the end of patience when it reaches its breaking point, and it can transform into fury, responding aggressively to a negative stimulus that threatens our interests.
For this very reason, anger is considered a capital sin.
It is not called “capital” because of its severity or magnitude, but because it gives rise to many other sins—a moderately reasonable conception on the Church’s part.
It is not entirely wrong. And yet, whether it seems so or not, we have advanced somewhat since the Middle Ages, and these sins are no longer regarded as gravely as they once were. People are no longer publicly condemned for being lazy, for being lustful… at least, normal people do not do so—because the Church is no longer as excessively relevant or powerful as it once was.
On the other hand… Dante describes anger as love for justice.
So then… at what point does anger become something evil?
Is it, in fact, evil at all?
