my rights end where your nose begins: on the illusion of control

trying to be compassionate & kind, since we were raised that way & it just feels better. but the other day i wanted to bust a chair over someone's head. i try to regain control of my emotions; i put on heavy makeup. facial armor of sorts. it makes me feel more ok in a pinch, even if some folks want to judge & deem it bizarre... like ultimately i care... i know who i am: do you?

"selfishness, self-centeredness: that we believe is the root of our troubles... we step on the toes of others & they retaliate, seemingly without provocation"... how many times in my life have i tried to control other people, places, things, then been angry when life didn't go my way? i've heard it compared to being a flea on a piece of driftwood, sailing down a river. the flea starts thinking she's in control. she even gets a little sailor's cap, steering wheel, etc. but the flea does not control the current. and none of us can control one another, except perhaps thru coercion... but then anyone who's read much knows that those who've really, truly experienced suffering, who are forced to the limits of human endurance, will interpret themselves still to have freedom in their minds... well, i'm blabbing now, but please, if you're reading this, especially if you purport to have sobriety as a friend of bill, look up & read the big book pp. 60-64.