Rage

I feel a maddening sensation inside. I'm waiting to explode at the sight of the very first person whom I might come across, who even unknowingly pushes me over the fine line between anger and madness, that I'm tight-roping on. I have the usual suspects, on whom I think I'll be exploding. So, for now, I'm trying to keep at a safe distance from them. 

Tick-tock,

Tick-tock, 

That sounds like the clock

For me, it is rage, for you it's shock,

Maybe I'll take a walk, 

But if you came to me to talk,

You're head will hit a rock.

What a shock! What a shock!

Don't make me give a fuck,

Else in your life shall

Nemesis run amock!

Wow! For the first time, the writing things out loud hasn't quelled my restlessness. I guess there's always a first time to everything.

I just had a realization, as usual. There are some things that affect you, that you do not acknowledge as a cause of your disappointment. But these things stay somewhere in the back of your mind, manifest themselves much later when you least expect them to. And boy, do they trouble you! Trouble is that you never really can "Not" think about them. The worst part is that, even in your own mind, these troubles look and sound puny in nature. So your self esteem, rather ego, doesn't permit you to share the trouble with another person, no matter how dear the person may be to you. You simply don't trust your thoughts in the hand of another. So it stays inside. It rolls.... downhill. And then, before you know, this little nag you had inside a while ago, has snowballed into a full-size rage monster. 

Thing is, you can't even hide this monster inside. One look into your eyes will let anyone you know, that you are being controlled by your demons. The strange part is that you don't exactly mind being controlled by this demon, at least for now. What you think after you have wrecked havoc somewhere is anyones guess.

But herein lies the problem with our civilized world. NO FIGHTING! NO FLIGHTING! This is the first part of the problem. The second part is that if, suppose you do engage in an act of barbarism, you'll inevitably hurt a loved one. Unavoidable collateral. If not a loved one, someone WILL get hurt for sure. And now, I'm simply ranting. 

There we have it.. Modern society! A madly angry man sits in front of a screen and rants his mind out. What all is left to try?

Push-ups-- DONE..

Running--DONE..

Sleeping-- DONE..

Writing-- DONE..

Fapping-- DONE..

What else do you do to impede your anger? If there is something that remains, it's only talking. And that's one thing I have been perpetually incapable of, specially during my pangs of madness. 

I'll tell you what. I guess this post should have been titled "Return of the KID". 

We all love kids. I specially don't mind a cranky crying shit-piss-and-puke producing machines. It's probably because I haven't had to deal with one anyway. Agreed, Kids are cute. But so are piglets! I doubt that there is any kid who was born MACHO, with extra pair of balls. Maybe there must have been some kid born with extra pair of testicles, but then he must have been a genetic anomaly.... more like a genetic miracle. 

So, kids are cute, as long as they mind their own stuff, and do not interfere with your shit. But when they do interfere with your shit, more so, when they interfere with MY shit, I don't have qualms pressing a pillow on such kids till they suffocate. That last line would probably get me arrested, were I to star in Minority Report. But then Tom Cruise got that role. Damn him! Okay, he did play the role well. 

Now, I'm surprised at my capacity to relentlessly come up with words, as an excuse to kill my anger.So, where was I? Yeah, I hate kids with noses too long for their own good. Trouble is, besides having long noses, these little fuckers are deaf. So they won't hear you telling them to "Fuck off". Maybe I'll break the nose of such kids. That will take care of a part of the cost of Rhinoplasty, to fix that nose. Maybe a whack on their ears will also fix their hearing. Goodness! So much for sucky genetics! Maybe it'll be worth the effort, if my anger dies down on the process.

After re-reading my last line, the ounce of prudence that's left inside some nook of my cranium tells me that there is a part of the big picture that is evading my sight.