Anger is futile. Now what?

I could get angry with the world, or I could get even.

But what does “getting even” actually mean?

At face value, so much is wrong with the world. Inequality is rife; freedom, relative; pain, pervasive — and yet there is little that we as individuals can do about this.

Whatever impact and influence we have is intrinsically limited; those that want to change the world can never do enough.

No “solution” can be examined in a vacuum; we cannot assess its efficacy until the damage is done.

Ignorance is bliss; the very concept of control is a losing battle. It seems to me that often we are only physically able to appreciate how vulnerable we are when we are accosted by it.

And thank God.

(Please excuse my blasphemy)

Thank God, or Allah, or whatever proverbial presence floats your boat — whether internal or external, “real” or imagined — that we don’t, can’t, live like that; that we lack foresight and have the freedom to feel; that we are built to focus keenly on the threats we perceive to “actually” be most pertinent to our wellbeing in the here and now and that, ultimately, we are programmed to do what we can to survive.

There is enough suffering.

Hell, some might argue that there’s too much suffering — pardon the pun.