Happy New Year Dear Readers!
I’d say “new year, new me” but why change perfection.
That’s a lie, I am far from perfect but New Year’s resolutions are useless – and it’s just too cold to start running or yoga…ing. I hope you all enjoyed that awfully awkward NYE celebration. No matter where you are in the world, I guarantee it was not as enjoyable as the people paid to be there think it was. The ball drop loses it’s magic after a while.
That sounds like some sort of euphemism, I’m sure but I can’t quite finish the analogy. I’m losing my touch.
In any case, the new year has been rung in, the sun has come out, and the country is still going to shit so…hooray for new years. It’s just another Monday,
I’ve recently been thinking about torture and it’s forms within the human psyche.
You can torture yourself with emotional or mental manipulation. You can physically torture yourself or others with varying degrees of success depending on your intent. Mentally torturing others for your pleasure is just psychopathy and deserves it’s own day of pondering.
I’m talking about the people who hurt themselves or others out of curiosity. The neutral need for experimentation and discovery no matter who or what is affected. I’ve often felt that urge. I take it out on my victims like a healthy individual. Sometimes I just want to see if it’ll work. Sometimes it doesn’t. I once tried to use a potato peeler to peel a man’s eyes out. Did not work. I mean it worked eventually but his eyes were in slices and there was blood EVERYWHERE – I had to thrown out one of my favourite sweaters. It’s hard to keep a nice wardrobe when you kill on a whim.
I’ve only ever ruined one fancy dress and that was after a clerk caught James and I kissing in the elevator and actually scolded us for a public display of affection. We were at the Policeman’s Ball (or Annual Gala as they call it now – Policeman’s Ball sounds so much fancier) and were just enjoying the free hotel accommodations. I don’t understand why some people in the service industry are against happiness.
I have great respect for people in the service industry – unless you’re rude to me – some people just shouldn’t be working there.
Like me. Be grateful I don’t work in the service industry, dear readers, the body count would be uncontrollable. Or I’d get super mellow. That might also happen.
As always, dear readers,