What is spite when you really mean it? Does it stop being ‘spiteful’ and morph into something evilish? How can it really be anything bad when the feeling is absolutely delicious? As far as I am concerned, the moral compass on this can go to hell.
For one, I really don’t believe in repressing emotions. There is this whole mantra, out there, to show your feelings- but why it gotta be only with love? Spite is a feeling too. Infact, spite isn’t at all fuzzy like love. It’s incredibly sharp and removes the haze. Also, it has the capacity to make one all incensed and flushed (albeit a shade darker than pink, but a flush nonetheless). And nastiness sure as hell don’t sugar coat anything for anybody. It strips off every bit of flimsy lace (which really is of no use) and gets to the bone of the matter.
I have heard more truth being spoken in spite than in love. Granted, it hurts an awful lot- not because it wasn’t spoken with love, but just that truth always does.
Maybe the point isn’t about spite here, but about emotions. We have to embrace and confer our acknowledgments to every shade- dark or sunny.
Today, I found a reason to be vocally spiteful- it’s that half an eyebrow that got me all riled up. I was struggling to repress these emotions, but who the heck for? I am my own individual can of soda. And repression is like pressure building up on the inside. Exploding is not an option with me – as it is, half an eyebrow deserves just half of nothing. Indulgence on the other hand is a refreshing outlet. And I proclaim- I was a bitch and it felt great!
There, I have come to my own conclusion about spite- it’s the tab on the soda can. We should allow moments of spitefulness, but try not to let it override us. Pull the tab. I understand every emotion we feel is like a vitamin supplement- and hey, we always say multivitamins are the best for a healthier you. To be taken in moderation, though.
So, how about it? Let’s give a whole new spin to our emotional growth- with a cocktail of one part envy, one part spite, one part jealousy, one part humour, one part sweet love, one huge part alcohol and three parts passion- seriously shaken, not stirred.