There are nights where, sitting alone at the bar, I realize that I'm surprised I'm manic.
Moments of blackness. Despair. Utter pissed-offness. Wave after wave crashing upon me, washing me out. The only thing I'm really missing sometimes is the regularity of a tidal schedule...and this, somehow, makes it all infinitely worse, in so many ways.
When these turns come, it makes very little difference if the music is crushing or lilting. Gravity, in this case, doesn't seem to apply...and at any rate, it doesn't seem to help.
This last turn, there was a definite initial incident, yes, but beginnings are ultimately less an issue than progressions.
Whenever it starts, it quickly triggers cascades in other locations. Soon school, scholarship, career, family, friends, all of these start their own respective reactions. One atom flies across the room, smashing into another. Particles fly. Compounds form, react, explode, starting cycles in other nearby atoms. Pretty soon, reactions outweigh elements, the fire builds, and it becomes one massive, devastating event which is quite often hazardous to behold with the unshielded eye.
My logic is a series of forcibly abandoned atolls, each pleasant enough on its own, but with the distant appearance of some innocent eyed pilot on the horizon...things will change.
Atomic rage has implications ranging far and wide.