We think about hurting/killing me a lot. In lieu of suicidal ideations, I think. We share the desire for nonexistence, but I’m the only one that contemplates death. The more gruesome the better. And sure, that’s not unheard of, people taking their violence out on fictional characters, but I feel like I do it to myself. We take a sick sense of enjoyment out of it. Catharsis, of sorts, I suppose.

Maybe I deserve it because I’m a bad person. Maybe that’s why we enjoy it so much. An exercise in exorcising the evil within us.

Not all my impulses are inherently bad, but every action can certainly be construed in a negative light. When we resolved ourselves, I decided I’d compliment anyone I wanted to whenever the will arose. The rest of me keeps quiet. The quiet part wins out of fear of causing problems.

I suppose that sounds contradictory to the prior statement of myself desiring peace and myself desiring adversity. The adversity part may be better described as personal challenge. I don’t like personal challenges, but I like seeing people smile and knowing it’s because of me. Is that narcissism? Making people feel good because it makes me feel good? Maybe even in some sick way I take some level of pleasure in having influenced them. Changed the course of their day. Is positive influence a bad thing? Is it manipulation?

Am I manipulative?

I’d argue everyone is in some way. Even if it’s just to themselves. Masking, right? That’s self manipulation. Putting on a front to better fit in with social norms. I think during the resolution we determined I was mask off. Just a mean spirited gremlin that would surely be unlikable were I the true representation. I suppose I am, but so far there’s only one person who’s noticed me and they don’t seemed bother by my coexistence.

Hm…

This job is hard on the flesh prison. It expedites decay. Like it’s made to erode.

That should be changing soon. I still think we should run for the hills but we think this might be the change we need to save our sanity. We question if this might be a lifetime solution. The best I can offer is it’ll look good on our resume. I won’t concede an ounce more. I was for our barista era, as we called it. This fool thinks we still have a career.

It’s times like these I wish we were tentacle monsters.

One could argue the nervous system is a series of tendrils but they’re bound up in flesh and bone. Exposed, they’re in agony. Such a shame.

Life is a shame.