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Latent, still, as if it’s sleeping. But it’s there.
Usually it is awakened by a split, a grief.
It has never a non-violent birth. It feeds on itself and, if it’s fed, it grows out of proportion, causing lacerations and wounds, even deeper than the ones which initially triggered it.
It lives inside us in a constant struggle for the prevarication of our good feelings. It should not scare you, the awareness of its existence is the only weapon man has got to avoid being a victim.
We are free to choose to be good or not.
To let the hate, within us, win or not.
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