In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mad as a Hatter.”
You know that feeling when your insides burn up to indescribable temperatures? When your ears start ringing and your eyes glaze red? It’s as if you’re a volcano, just fidgeting to erupt into a slew of lava and profanities.
Now, I don’t mean that you have a fever, tinnitus, pink-eye, or even Crohn’s. No. This is not a physiological disease I speak of. Not just a diagnosable blimp in your health. This is the essence of fury. You, my friend, are as mad as a hatter. I don’t write that to mean ‘insane’. In simpler terms: u mad, bro. And that wasn’t even a question.
Oh, rage- rage that sends hands into shaking fits, rage that clenches fists poised to chuck books at walls, rage that flies into a long line of a opinionated exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We’ve all had our fair share of anger, or, perhaps on a deeper level, anger issues. I raise my hand for the latter part, especially- guilty as charged.
When trust is betrayed and feelings are trampled, my familiar, wrathful friend understandably likes to resurface. But when minor annoyances fling me into a fit, I can’t help but wonder why. A poorly-behaved, five-year-old child throws a tantrum when she is refused a second popsicle. Why is that I, ten years older yet not quite wiser, throw my own [generally more internalized] tantrums when life doesn’t go my way? Waiting ten extra seconds for a page that doesn’t load as fast I’d like is no big accomplishment, yet it seems I cannot do so without having an urge to slip-slap the screen.
That’s just a small example. In my current, not-so-angry state (although that’s subject to change thanks to my recent discovery that my brother devoured my share of salted caramel frozen yogurt and lied about it), I find it important to reflect upon all the [regrettably silly] things that anger me in my day-to-day life. Even the more serious, laughless circumstances in my life shouldn’t need to send me into an ire-ful spiral. And to think that minuscule happenings, like coffee-table toe-stubbings or even the depletion of my dessert allowance, have the power to stir up a childlike temper within me- well, it just makes me mad.
(Let’s all smile and have a good time. And maybe not procrastinate on hw the way I am rn.)
P.S. Art belongs to darkcla. One day, I will draw my own cover images. But that day is not today.