Now I'm a murderer of babies.
For some arcane reason mice decided my basement would be a smart place to live. You've got an insane, socially defunct 18yearold nerd living two doors down. nobody wants that. especially when you're three inches long and a threat to his precious power supply. So when my step mom found out about our new tenants I volunteer'd to hunt the little furballs down and kill them. I don't think you're supposed to feel morally conflicted about killing rodents, but these things aren't dirty or mangy or diseased. I set traps, a new kind with a hair trigger that suffocates instead of killing instantly. I got to watch a mouse suffocate, as one of my traps got hit when I was near enough to here it go off.
I don't like watching animals die slowly, but I before I could get a club, something to end it instantly, it had suffocated. I felt bad. Another one got it's tail caught in the trap. I killed it with a club. Killed four all together. All more or less clean, groomed, healthy looking animals, then no hits on the traps for a couple of days.
I just remembered that i even had traps tonight around midnight. The first trap I checked had two babies, suffocated. I don't know how the trap grabbed them both, but I think I must have killed all the adults, and the babies were hungry, so these two went looking for food, and went up to the trap together. I felt bad when I killed the adults. I feel like shit now. I kill little children. Little fucking children whose only crime is hunger. Yah, they're mice. yah, they're diseased or whyever the fuck I'm killing them. but they're still babies. I killed babies. I've got enough shit going on trying find a job and ward off my parent's till school starts, I don't need this right now. I used to be happy and carefree. Before graduation, I was this little ray of sunshine. My yearbook is full of 'your upbeat nature has brightened my day on multiple occasions'. Now I'm either miserable or lethargic, depending on the time of day, and i'm murdering babies. This is supposed to be life, my first few months dipping my toes in the real world, and it sucks. Anticlamtic in most places, and depressing in others. Looking at my friends and knowing most of them won't be able to afford college, or that they'll end up shackled to a worthless job or marriage. I look at some of my friends and know they'll spend their whole lives struggling to afford the anti-psychotics they need to remain sane. what kind of a life is that? working minimum wage with no hope for advancement just so you can afford drugs for yourself, your children, to stave off a hereditary disease that's hardcoded into your genes. How can you tell your kids that they're doomed by circumstances of their birth witth an incurable insanity. Shit.
I don't like feeling bad about my own life, because my problems aren't problems compared to most peoples problems. But i've still got my prolbems. minor, maybe eeasyily fixed if i knew how, but problems. Maybe life was a bad idea.
For some arcane reason mice decided my basement would be a smart place to live. You've got an insane, socially defunct 18yearold nerd living two doors down. nobody wants that. especially when you're three inches long and a threat to his precious power supply. So when my step mom found out about our new tenants I volunteer'd to hunt the little furballs down and kill them. I don't think you're supposed to feel morally conflicted about killing rodents, but these things aren't dirty or mangy or diseased. I set traps, a new kind with a hair trigger that suffocates instead of killing instantly. I got to watch a mouse suffocate, as one of my traps got hit when I was near enough to here it go off.
I don't like watching animals die slowly, but I before I could get a club, something to end it instantly, it had suffocated. I felt bad. Another one got it's tail caught in the trap. I killed it with a club. Killed four all together. All more or less clean, groomed, healthy looking animals, then no hits on the traps for a couple of days.
I just remembered that i even had traps tonight around midnight. The first trap I checked had two babies, suffocated. I don't know how the trap grabbed them both, but I think I must have killed all the adults, and the babies were hungry, so these two went looking for food, and went up to the trap together. I felt bad when I killed the adults. I feel like shit now. I kill little children. Little fucking children whose only crime is hunger. Yah, they're mice. yah, they're diseased or whyever the fuck I'm killing them. but they're still babies. I killed babies. I've got enough shit going on trying find a job and ward off my parent's till school starts, I don't need this right now. I used to be happy and carefree. Before graduation, I was this little ray of sunshine. My yearbook is full of 'your upbeat nature has brightened my day on multiple occasions'. Now I'm either miserable or lethargic, depending on the time of day, and i'm murdering babies. This is supposed to be life, my first few months dipping my toes in the real world, and it sucks. Anticlamtic in most places, and depressing in others. Looking at my friends and knowing most of them won't be able to afford college, or that they'll end up shackled to a worthless job or marriage. I look at some of my friends and know they'll spend their whole lives struggling to afford the anti-psychotics they need to remain sane. what kind of a life is that? working minimum wage with no hope for advancement just so you can afford drugs for yourself, your children, to stave off a hereditary disease that's hardcoded into your genes. How can you tell your kids that they're doomed by circumstances of their birth witth an incurable insanity. Shit.
I don't like feeling bad about my own life, because my problems aren't problems compared to most peoples problems. But i've still got my prolbems. minor, maybe eeasyily fixed if i knew how, but problems. Maybe life was a bad idea.
So I went to see Godsmack tonight. I hope sex turns out to be this much fun, when I get around to it. Mosh pit turned out to be more fun than pain. bit my lip. Blood still tastes good. The only downside was that the show was only two hours, and I didn't find anyone to take home. mmm. Audio Orgasm.
So I went to see Godsmack tonight. I hope sex turns out to be this much fun, when I get around to it. Mosh pit turned out to be more fun than pain. bit my lip. Blood still tastes good. The only downside was that the show was only two hours, and I didn't find anyone to take home. mmm. Audio Orgasm.
I'm waiting for Catharsis. Maybe I'll find it tommorow. Godsmack is coming to town. We're all going to were bright pink "I LOVE CELINE DION" T-shirts. It should be interesting.
