At what point does a person’s sorrow turn into something toxic? When does it go from being something that we need to help them through, to something that we need to shake them out of?
What is the line between pain and actively causing harm to another? Does it ever work – revenge? Has anyone ever felt better for it? Hamlet got revenge – after two acts of procrastination. Pretty sure it didn’t put a smile on his face as he lay dying.
Humans are a mess. Maybe we’re all better off dead – even if it is a shambling about sort of death.
… I don’t mean that. I’m just. It’s been a hard day.
Someone tried to kill me. Can you believe it? The world is – to all intents and purposes – sort of over. But petty vengeance – that’s still on someone’s to-do list.
That sort of thing makes you go from ‘humans are basically good’ to humans are… other words… quite quickly.
Give me a dog any day of the week.
Come to think of it – give me my dog. I miss my dog.