Rage, rage against the dying of the light

That line was from Dylan Thomas's Do not go gentle into the good night.

Rage, rage against the end of things you don't want to end. Rage against the injustice of everything. Rage over the fact that at almost noon, I'm still hungry because I didn't have breakfast. Rage that I'm entering college early when I wanted a long break. Rage over the fact that I'm too young to get a driver's licence. Rage over the thought that I can't write a damn thing worth reading. Rage born because things are not what they looked at first.

Rage rage rage, that brilliant emotion. Rage, which motivates me to write but is yet destructive to myself and everyone close by. Rage over the fickle weather. Rage over the apprehension of entering a new place full of strangers. Rage over the utter idiotic slowness of the Internet. Rage over the things that have changed.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.