I scare myself sometimes. I feel like I have this angsty side to me that gets ahead of me sometimes—upon occasional lapse of reason. Getting into trouble is something I’m pretty used to—but then, it is something I’m never proud of.
I need to be more prudent.
Just the other day, sister and I were at Megamall waiting in a very long line to take a taxi. When it was already our turn to hail a cab, a middle-aged man with a cigarette drooping from his mouth cut in front of me and my sister—giving absolutely NO regard to the violation he had done us and pulled his family right behind him and got into the cab that I was supposed to get.
My eyes narrowed into little slits, my hands clenched into white fists, and my teeth ground into each other, as I found myself yelling a single profanity at him and his family—of which he heard and completely ignored.
I felt so violated and passionately angry with him.
When I had settled into another cab, it took me a while to calm down...all the while I was thinking of the worst possible way to get back at the person who violated me. Every thought of torture, running him over with a bulldozer, him getting into a bloody car accident, falling off a bridge, or having his gasul tank explode on him while he’s changing the nozzle.
I respect people…and I expect them to do the same. I abide by the rules, and I expect the others to do the same as well. I always start at the back of the line and wait for my turn. It just irritates me when someone just cuts in and stand there thick-faced. Here I stand trying to be a good citizen, and here comes some asshole and cuts in.
I do admit to having a temper—and it does get ahead of me sometimes—and it is a BAD thing. And what makes things worse is my being naturally quiet allows my emotion to build up at the hollow base of my stomach, and when the tipping point arrives, I turn into a green-eyed monster and say and do things that could get me into tons of trouble. I could have started a fight with the guy. I could’ve gotten hurt—like a kitten fighting a lion.
I am not proud of it. I know I could be so much better. My parents have taught me well…with that I-won’t-go-down-to-your-level approach—and it would be a definite shame to let them down. So I guess it’s the matter of letting the issue go and not let myself get affected in any way by it.
I really need to change that about me. My random lightning bolts need to have an alternate outlet—and I still need to find it.
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