Can't Sleep

Actually, I'm not sure whether I can't sleep, or won't sleep. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

With reference to what Hanni said a few comments ago, sure, I feel angry sometimes. I felt slightly angry this evening after going to bed.
I just don't quite make it to the sort of Harry Enfield levels of "If she slept in my bed but wasn't up for a good shag, I'd say OI! WIFE! NOOOO! And I'd give 'er a good slappin'."

Even my wife said it earlier in bed. "Do you mind giving me a cuddle?"
"No, of course not"
"I bet even if you did mind, you'd do it anyway"

She's right you know. Maybe I'm just her bitch.

What do I do when I feel angry? Well, I just sort of bottle it up and sit there feeling pissed off at the world. There are times when I do wish I had a baseball bat and enough money to just break anything I wanted and not care about it. But I spend far too much time thinking to act on impulse or instinct enough to actually hit/damage anything.
We never even shout at each other, you know. Not sure why, just doesn't happen. When I lived at home, I'd "always" be shouting at my mum, my dad, or my sister. I get on much better with all of them since I moved out.
My wife says her parents never really shouted at her, they just got quiet. Which she says was much worse than being shouted at. I remain unconvinced.

I'm not a violent person though. Whether it's a lack of passion, or a lack of testosterone, or circumstances, I don't know. Probably just spend too long thinking about everything. I would like to think that if I were put into a circumstance that I were forced to defend someone or something, I would fight for what I thought was right. But the fact of the matter is, I've never hit anyone. Perhaps I best not dwell on that for too long, for fear of doing a bit of a "Fight Club" ;)

One of the things that I hope I would be willing to fight for would be someone else getting unfairly attacked. I remember years ago watching some documentary about wives who were beaten up by their husbands. It made me feel pretty physically sick. I can't understand how someone could do something like that, and I really couldn't understand why someone would live with it. In the years since then, I have gained perhaps a little understanding of both sides, but not anywhere near a justification. Occasionally, I find myself wishing I could understand something. Then I find myself being thankful that I cannot.

Reading Hanni's blog entry about Donna... No, no way. A bit of that feeling rose again. It's sickening behaviour. You can't do that to someone, it's just plain wrong. Nobody deserves that.

A couple of years ago, someone I knew was beaten for even less reason than that. I think he shouted at a bunch of kids (late teens-ish). There was about five or six of them.
I cannot comprehend how five people could ever even consider attacking one person. But they did. And sod stopping when he was down, unable to stand. I heard that they kept kicking him even then. He remembers at that point, one of them even took a flying leap at him. Sure, that's really fucking cool, beating up someone who can't even stand. I REALLY can't understand that, and it is so so wrong.
He couldn't go in to work for a week or two. Six months later, he was still regularly in pain if he moved to the wrong angle. Even now, I think he still has some unhealed injuries.
If I were there, if I had seen that, would I have had the guts to do anything? Or would I have sat on my ass doing sweet fuck all? I don't know. I'd like to think I'd try to help, even if it wouldn't make a difference, even if I knew I'd come out of it like he did.
But would I? I don't know. And overall, I think I probably hope I never have to find out.