Zen Bastard (jimbojones) wrote,
Zen Bastard

  • Mood:
  • Music:

I fucking hate people.

I'm getting soft, people. I went out to my car this morning, in my usual morning mental fog - foggy enough that it wasn't until I opened the door and sat in the car that I realized that my seat was in the wrong place, which confused me, and not until then did I notice the great, gaping cavity in my console and the shattered glass strewn all over my backseat. And what was my first, my immediate reaction? Anger? Hatred? A sinking feeling related to the financial aspect of it? Raw disbelief that even though I had less than $350 sunk into the stereo system in a NEON that gets parked next to a State Trooper's cruiser every night, I apparently needed a car alarm?

No, my fucking feelings were hurt. Don't get me wrong, after I had a few seconds to get used to the situation, I got over that and just deeply, deeply wished I could have caught the little bastard at work and done something that, sadly, would probably have gotten me in jail on assault charges. But the first reaction was a hurt "... but why?"

I guess what it boils down to is that I've been pretty comfortable for quite a while now. It's been a few years since I lived in a headspace that includes people scratching hard enough that they don't indulge in the luxury of thinking of people as people. The kind of world that not only factually but implicitly includes feral packs of punk kids who roam apartment parking lots and don't give a fuck if they do over $800 worth of damage just so that they can - maybe - get a $50 return out of it at a pawn shop, or $70 if they hustle the stolen CD player themselves on a streetcorner.

This is the kind of shit that turns people into Republicans.


  • I haz a son. I haz a son... I HAZ A SON!

    Jacob Ruffin Salter, aka "Finn", was born at 0530 on 10/11/10, weighing in at a whopping 10lbs 9oz and 20.5" long. The two most frequent comments…

  • only two ways to stand out

    Her: Did you see [particular person in crowded area]? Me: Doesn't ring a bell. Her: I'm talking about the one [add details]. Me: Sorry, don't think…

  • freak of culture like a white girl with cornrows

    Last night I dreamed that I was a teenager again, and that I had an older brother. We were on some kind of screwy football team in high school, with…

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded