(1) rage.
find its source, a place where your revenge is birthed. collect materials for the fire, fuel it. the wood, paper, oil, tinder, disappointments which will disintegrate every cage and stadium that holds you and coerces you to perform to a particular beat.

(2) locate your choice. does it reside in the grass? on the stairs? in the heart of the matador hunting you in the arena? whose blood must spill for you to regain access to it? to be introduced to the concept?

(3) plot your revenge.

determine who you need to handle. who you need to show where they got you fucked up.

(4) if forced in the arena… sunbathe. if the sun’s gone down, enjoy the shifting breeze to nightfall. traipse around the edge. show off your coat. find the whites of the horses’ eyes, hone in on your next kill. take a nap, move only against the shade. tune out the groans, the audience: expectations, frustrations, exclaimed as you follow your heart.

(5) craft fire fueled by the tissue paper from the banderillas. attack who caged you.

(6) remember isolation is not your only fate.

(7) roar. snarl. growl. howl your internal state.

(8) a cat’s contentment fans out through its purr. purr, then find your own. moan.

(9) remember your reflection. who you are when you control time, when your speed can be variable, when you govern your destination.

(10) talk to yourself aloud. you’re already assumed insane to imagine you could be anywhere but there.

(11) chase a ball of dust, a floating

blade of

grass.

a flower.

(12) play dead. stop breathing. see how long it takes for them to leave you alone. learn why, when caught in a trap, a wolf may chew off its own leg