Rage

I do not know about you, but sometimes rage happens.  Crazy rage.  To me. In you.  And it is usually set off

by the smallest things.  Though now I come to think about it, it probably happens because of shutting down the vents from little annoyances.  Holding stuff in.  A kind of abeyance. Holding it in.  Mantled in.  Plugged shut.

Like a volcano.  That some say is dormant.  And they are trotting up and down your sides. And clambering all over you.  Getting to the top and sitting there crowing on their achievement.  On top of you.  And walking around your craters.  Simpering on their greatness.  Tilling up your slopes. Eroding.  Digging.  Prodding.  Cutting down your cover.  Grrrrrrrr.

Smile and wave.

And then this little thing happens.  Some innocuous sounding little thing.  A dirty fork.  A laugh instead of silence.  A silence instead of loudness.  A look.  A thought.  A word.  Some innocuous something that you may never remember. 

And its not about being perimenaupausal.  Or hormonal.  It happens to those with no hormones too.  Are there any people with no hormones?  Okay - those with no hormones all over the place.

The pressure builds.  Faster than a turbo boosted jet fuelled truck.

A little crack.  The plug cannot hold.  Top cracks. And varoooooooom!!  It all goes up.  Bursts forth.  Bolders and rocks spew-en. Flames. Molten.  Lava. Hot angry burning chocking.  

Fallout.

Ashes.