I release all of my anger in dreams now. Just as I was beginning to boil over, my subconscious found a hidden outlet.  Containing it all in this body would be impossible, and stuffing it inside to hide has always ended poorly.  But, in my dreams I’ve found myself free to say what I feel and unleash hellfire on those who truly deserve it.  Dreams.  They have always felt real to me so in my second reality, this slumber land in which it is safe to be reactionary without denting my moral compass, I’ve found a suitable and nearly tangible realm to let loose the fervent and fiery pieces of myself that don’t agree with my character in consciousness.
I see the ones who’ve wronged me, old and new, in front of me.  I see the ones I’ve wronged, alive or dead.  In this place I’m able to touch, feel, and confabulate with the ghosts, angels, and demons that steal away slices of my solace.  I wake satisfied and stronger than I was when I lay my head to rest. 
This substitute solidifies the ideas I’ve always had about the mind and personalized reality.  Inside my skull the world becomes real.  Inside this brain my own world exists.  It’s complicated, complex, and nearly impossible to understand what your world looks like in comparison to mine.  The colors I see are different than yours.  Sensations of every sort vary.
If my mind needs release, an outlet will be found, and I have found the intense and appropriate channel to isolate my indignation and remain true to my belief in a peaceful and tolerant, decent and dignified, reaction to the hostile and cruel existence that I have so often been forced to face.