Dark demonic creature with red eyes emerges from flames under stormy skies with lightning, ghostly faces, and dead trees. Text on wall: 'ANGER IS JUST PAIN WEARING A MASK'.

Create an image from these words: Anger is an addiction like no other—a chemical surge with more jagged energy than a kilo of glass. It’s free. It’s homegrown. It’s naturally, violently mad. You are your own supplier. You can gorge on it anytime you desire, a feast that never ends until you do. It carves you into a stranger. It feeds on the rot of your old wounds, swelling into a titan off a single, stray thought. It grants you a poisonous pride—a sudden, ironclad respect for yourself. Strength beyond question. A determination you’ve never felt. Justification that burns so bright it blinds you to everything else. It floods the brain, mapping out endless, dark avenues for release. It whispers, tantalizing you with mischievous routes into the abyss. Act now, deal later. It promises you a world devoid of consequence, a shield to ensure pain never touches your skin again. But when this fire meets the mind, it breeds a calculated destruction. It chokes the receptors of "good" with a thick, suffocating despair. It’s the sabotaged play: it tackles you inches from the first down, sends your serve screaming out of bounds, and watches your free throw clatter off the rim. You lose. You become. You end. Anger is just pain wearing a mask. It floods your veins with a beautiful rebellion, but it is a ghost—temporary and hollow. It cannot survive the light, yet it lurks at the perimeter, trolling the boundaries of your peace for the slightest glimpse of a crack. It knows it lives on Ver más