Your pride screams, “Go! Run into the fray! Take those bastards down!”
However, your common sense and instincts tell you to chill and wait it out. Your schnauzer, Spunky, shivers under the tension in your fingers. She senses your fear, anger, and indecision.
Common Sense tells you that if you rush in there now, you’re dead. Plain and simple slaughter, but your blade won’t touch any flesh. Except possibly your own.
The darker side of Femininity tells you that you should wait, hold on to this anger, and cultivate this rage. Then, when it is primed and you have planned, unleash it on the ugly mo-fos in a rain of vengeance and blood. Their blood. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Bet your f’ing ass it doesn’t! That place is rainbows and stickers and kittens and glitter compared to the All Mighty Fury you shall release upon them.
Spunky whines in agreement with your inner dialogue. She licks your hands to re-assure you (and get microscopic snacks).
Bring vengeance. In your grief, conspire to destroy your enemy. Think of increasingly sadistic ways to punish them. Make them pay for their atrocities! Make them beg to gods they have never heard of yet suddenly believe in for help.
But do not be a dumbass about it.
If you run into every battle that comes along, you won’t get out of many. That number will be even fewer if you go in without a plan. It might not top zero.
Fiery destruction of those who crushed your life and stole your planet is totally justified. Being an idiot about it is not.
What other advice would Spunky agree with? Tell us in the comments.
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