Sometimes one has a need to write, just to release all thoughts swirling angrily inside their head.  Out through the pen to the paper, out through the fingertips to the keys.  The writing doesn't always have to make sense, not to the reader, anyway.  Sometimes you test them to see if they can read between the lines, see what you're thinking.  Some do, most don't.

You stick in hidden meanings, seeing if they'll pick up on them.  Poke at their brains, get them working.  Wait for their questions, and your answers you so willingly will give.  Show them that you know exactly what's going on, and they have no idea.  Let them know that you have control too.

The letters can mean nothing, or they can mean everything.  They can hold on to the existence of a memory, scribbled down in a flurry just before sleep.  Return years later to find this old journal from your freshman year of high school.  Flip through it and laugh at the simple worries that meant the world to you back then.

Sometimes you just need to let the anger out, whether it be through poetry, repeated curse words, rants, stories, or just random words, as of now.  I stick hidden meanings in these simple markings just now, seeing if someone will pick up on them.  Ask me a question.

I can't wait to give you an answer.