And so it is with me.
I'm pretty sure I've got a cold. I don't think it is the flu. Although it may be. I don't get sick that often. (Last time I got sick was 2003. I remember this well, because I was really sick and that was the last time I was really sick). And when I do get sick, and I don't get nearly as sick as everyone else does. I pretty much concur with George Carlin, that an immune system needs practice, and it only gets it when you expose yourself to germs.
But there was one woman in the doctor's waiting room that was a complete fucking mess. Even I avoided getting near her. But obviously, she had a lethal cloud of germs and miasmic crap surrounding her like some toxic shroud, and I'm blaming that bitch for my current predicament.
Now, being a gentle barbarian sort, I rarely wish ill on anyone or anything. At least, not too seriously. Not so you could notice. But this shit that is colonizing me? I want it to die.
I want it to fuck off and die.
I want it to fuck off and die in as slow, painful, and publicly embarrassing manner as possible, while concurrently (somehow) being for me a swift, pleasurable, and ego-massaging experience. I want all my little white blood cells and antibodies to just pummel the living shit out this crud. I want to go Neolithic on this shit. I want to wipe it out, and not just it, but its relatives, friends, pets, possessions, farm animals, acquaintances, hapless strangers it met, cities, towns, and countrysides it inhabits. I short, I want to wipe out everything it loves.
At least, do no harm? Heh. Fuck that.
I wish to do a great fucking deal of harm.