The type that you ignore, shunt away into the darker regions of your mind and try desperately, hysterically, to pretend it isn't there. Concentrate on the stain on the wall, on the sound of a lawnmower at the edge of your hearing, anything to take you mind off it and pretend it isn't there.
Then there is the pain you accept. You revel in it, bask in the white-hot fury of it, feel the liquid fire trickle through your bones and radiate outwards. Instead of ignoring it you concentrate on it, accept it as part of you, as something you cannot change, and instead wait it out, like an old acquaintance that you're too polite to tell to go away, and wait instead for them to leave on their own accord.
You take strength from the pain, but it's a twisted power, it gives you the ability to lash out at others, rather than to help them.
It is the agony that you spread to others, and it is this pain which is the most dangerous, because anger is so much easier than hurt.
You take strength from the pain, but it's a twisted power, it gives you the ability to lash out at others, rather than to help them.
It is the agony that you spread to others, and it is this pain which is the most dangerous, because anger is so much easier than hurt.
