<!-- bryant-content-generator:start --> # So be angry, and be angry at the right thing. The... > So be angry, and be angry at the right thing. The people who owed you cover looked at the attacker, looked at you, and made a purchase, and every tender word they have offered since is the sound of an animal that knows exactly what it bought. That precision is the relief. The wound stops being a mystery about whether you were loved and becomes a fact about where you stood in the coalition when the price came due, which is a thing you can measure, predict and, next time, change, by building coalitions that owe you something rather than coalitions that share your blood, by never again standing where you are cheap, and by understanding that kin was never the guarantee, only the first place the animal looked. {{Blood is not a coalition. Blood is a rumor of a coalition, and the rumor is tested the day someone comes for you.}} And when the rage passes into the colder understanding beneath it, let the understanding be complete: nothing went wrong in your family. Something went exactly right, in the way things go right in the jungle, where the troop watches one of its own taken and goes back to eating, because that is what a troop is, and that is what a family is, and that is what you are, a savage among savages who got the fucking price wrong once and lived to learn it. {{Nobody came because nobody was ever coming. That is the jungle. Learn its prices, or keep expecting the trees to love you.}} **Source:** [[books/Chimping Out|Chimping Out]] ## Share on Social Media ``` “So be angry, and be angry at the right thing. The people who owed you cover looked at the attacker, looked at you, and made a purchase, and every tender word they have offered since is the sound of an animal that knows exactly what it bought. That precision is the relief. The wound stops being a mystery about whether you were loved and becomes a fact about where you stood in the coalition when the price came due, which is a thing you can measure, predict and, next time, change, by building coalitions that owe you something rather than coalitions that share your blood, by never again standing where you are cheap, and by understanding that kin was never the guarantee, only the first place the animal looked. Blood is not a coalition. Blood is a rumor of a coalition, and the rumor is tested the day someone comes for you. And when the rage passes into the colder understanding beneath it, let the understanding be complete: nothing went wrong in your family. Something went exactly right, in the way things go right in the jungle, where the troop watches one of its own taken and goes back to eating, because that is what a troop is, and that is what a family is, and that is what you are, a savage among savages who got the fucking price wrong once and lived to learn it. Nobody came because nobody was ever coming. That is the jungle. Learn its prices, or keep expecting the trees to love you.” — Bryant McGill https://bryantmcgill.com/passages/passages-angry-angry-right-expecting-trees-love ``` <!-- bryant-content-generator:end -->