Sunday, 8 April 2012

When Laughter = Rage

Sometimes the hardest thing to do in the moment is let it go. 

Another thing I've noticed--especially in myself--is that laughter is my shortest fuse. Whether someone is laughing at me or not, my mind (in apparent infinite conceitedness) presumes that whomever it may be is laughing at me. From there, depending on the believability (or gullibility) of myself that day, I sink into a deep rage.

Three days ago was a different case--it was not me. 
Could it be that I am not the only one?

     I was minding my own business, driving normally (legal speed limit and everything) and I see this person in a black car (it was a cavalier, don't get excited) and they were changing into the lane behind me. No big, I am already in the fast lane and soon to be passing a slow vehicle--I was not fast enough for the black car's driver, it seems. They promptly pull back over to the right and then race up beside me and right behind the slowpoke. They were trying to pull out in front of me, thus cutting me off.
Obviously, they do not know how to time traffic--I kept the same speed, passing the slug vehicle and leaving the black car tailgating the truck and now incensed. I passed to the proper distance (I hate it when people cut me off, so I don't do it to others) and moved in front of the slug mobile. Captain Black car rips out around the truck and passes me, immediately pulling in front of my car (thus cutting me off) and proceeding to hit their brakes.

Now, I was stressed that day--but all I did was laugh. There was more ridiculousness in traffic between the two of us afterwards, but the interesting thing is that I was not angry. They sure were, judging by how they were acting--so for fun, I tried to fit my feet into their retarded shoes for a moment.
Perhaps they thought I was laughing at them.

They were right.

©reated by ŊetHerŊøte  

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