About

This site is for people who are tired of being told their anger is ‘toxic’ and their sadness is ‘just a mindset problem.
I am angered when I see how fake constructs and clichés harm people.

In December 2022, I typed a Survival Protocol containing all the important stuff I thought I knew at the time. Some of it still resonates. Number 344 read: “Understand the role of anger, and the antithesis of apathy.”

That protocol became the foundation for what this site is now: a systematic toolkit for people tired of having their emotions and experiences filtered through trite and banal phrases.

Anger does not always escalate into rage or aggression. It’s a signal. It shows you that something matters enough to get your blood flowing. It’s a boundary alarm, a defense mechanism, a motivator. When you feel anger, it’s usually because something important to you is threatened: your values, your sense of fairness, your self-respect. Anger can fuel action. It can drive protest, reform, creation, rebellion, survival. Don’t forget recovery. It’s raw, volatile energy, but it’s alive.

Apathy is indifference. Nothing moves you. Nothing feels worth the fight.

I get triggered when I see how phrases like “Just contain your anger!” can keep people stuck in despair. Here, I get angry, and sad, and then I use that energy to debunk whatever holds me back. This site became the Ops Room: full of questions, silence, observations, memories, action points, and lots of coffee, without pandering to “knowing all the answers.”

Since “everyone” always asks:

“Are you even qualified to talk about this?”
Cool. Here’s your credentials checklist:

• Studied English and Psychology (so yes, I can overanalyze your tweets and your childhood).

• Postgrad Diploma in Teaching (I know how to explain things to people who aren’t listening).

• COBOL Diploma + a buffet of IT certs (enough jargon to bluff through any boardroom or backend).

• Officer Training & Military Conscription (survived a year of getting screamed at and crawling through metaphorical and literal mud).

• 11 jobs. Across industries. Across chaos. Across burnout.

I walked through those fluorescent-lit halls, collected experiences, made mistakes, burned out, and kept moving. Not because I’m brave, but because stagnation itches worse than failure.

Am I qualified?
You decide.

All I know is: I lived. I felt. I cracked. And I still get up. I write to remind myself: “You are okay. You did it. You can move forward.”
And make no mistake, I enjoy analysing the fractures of being human one hell of a lot!

What’s the takeaway? Only what I said earlier.
I watch stuff, and often it pisses me off. It’s also amusing. I’ve learned to observe the absurdity without attaching too much emotion. And when I dig into emotions, I don’t judge them.
I see the noise. The fake virtue. The systems that gaslight the soul.

So yeah, I still get mad, but not aimlessly. Now I know the whole carnival is rigged, and I’m still choosing to spit flames at it rather than bow. Because I feel prompted to point and laugh at the madness, and have as much fun as possible while I’m at it.

This site isn’t trying to be safe. It’s not trying to be “anything.”
I want to discuss truth, and slaughter banal language that traps us.

Right now, I’m hammering together the linguistic equipment for:

• Recognizing when language is gaslighting you
• Replacing hollow phrases with functional ones
• Navigating real situations (promotion, heartbreak, burnout) without the usual script
• Building internal orientation when external systems are designed to disorient

mattlr.com:
For the ones who’ve had enough of pretending everything’s fine, but who are willing to question, and accept responsibility for acting on the new language they are learning.

Survival Protocol 365 read: “We have inadequate language for processing trauma.”
You’re not crazy.
You’re probably not beyond repair.
You’re still here.

Updated: 2025

Matt le Roux