Just A Little Rage

I clock out of work hurtin' and ready for a little Turkey. I pulled up to the stop light in the outer left turn lane. There is a blue Ford Ranger extend cab next to me in the inner lane. The green light appears and I hit the gas, only to have to grab the fucking brakes and the little shit driving the Ford has mad an unannounced lane change. Seem he really wanted to be in the outer lane and decided to go there mid turn. Never mind that I was were he wanted to be. SHIT! I cobbed the brakes and laid into the horn. Dickhead looked over and fucking grinned and his passengers laughed. Well, that only ignited my familial blood lust. Yes, little ol' me is a berserker from the past. Seriously, I feel no pain, I'm working on instinct, I out think my opponent, beat them to the punch, out maneuver them and it seem like someone else is committing all the mayhem. So, I get lined up, the make the lane change and I floor the old truck and pass them at high speed and enter the right turn land and then pull on to the shoulder and get out of my truck. The little pussy would not even pull his truck up and closer. He blocked traffic and risked the wrath of the multitude of drivers behind his rather than face me. What a downer. I was  working on releasing the inner demon and then nothing.  Zip.  I must be getting old, 'cause not to long ago I would have strolled on down to his truck pulled his ass out and delivered a world class ass whooping and never know I was doing it. And I would have felt no regret for doing it as it would not have been me doing it. It would have been that other guy, that one that dwells deep inside me, waiting to be called forth to do battle for me.

Seriously, when my blood gets up, I become another person, people who have seen me say that I change. And I can say this honestly, I have never been beaten. Bars to streets, to jobsites. The inner guy always wins. When I was younger I used to black out in those situation and would come to only to see destruction. When I got older I learned to control the blackout and step out side my body and observe all that was going on. Cold, dark, rage, hate. That is all that is felt in those spells. It is is a family trait. My Father had it, I, my brother and my sister have it. I do know if anyone in our family past had it but I feel sure that somewhere in sometime long ago there were relatives with the Germans, Highlanders, the Vikings, or some other warlike tribe or clan, we had family. Family who passed this terrible inner warrior down to future relatives.