It's all some horrible nightmare from which I cannot wake.
This town. This job. This culture.
Sometimes I wonder how normal people live, how they deal with each other at work and at home. I imagine that they, with their spouse and their 2.5 children and their dog or their cat live in normal houses, maybe eat dinner together or whatnot. Not this depravity, this never ending avalanche of fail and horror, this horrible toilet of weirdness.
Case assessment: Subject didn't get out of that Awful Place in 1989. Subject is in Hell.
And Hell is order, it is the trains running on time and nothing ever, ever changing. It is constantly falling and never hitting bottom. Consider: The world is in decline, and has been since anyone can remember...But it never actually crashes. It just gets worse and worse and there's no end to it.
Could that be anything other than Hell?
Betcha you were expecting demons in red spandex with ridiculous pitchforks, if you believed in Hell in the first place. No, sometimes they look like you and me, but they say things like "Might makes right" and "acceptable losses" and "minimal collateral damage". Or they're some fresh-faced kid in a two thousand dollar suit who says "there's no evidence that emissions from our facility have any connection to the rise in birth defects in the immediate surroundings."
A rational world would not include flying death robots dropping bombs all over 3rd world nations for no apparent reason or gain. It would not include the term "shaken baby syndrome". It would not involve ghastly grinning coroners insane shrinks and burned out cops taking all manner of pills and booze just to get through the day. I imagine it WOULD involve happy families and maybe, you know, getting some sleep once in a while.
And, unlike most people, I know precisely how I got here. You'd think that would help.
It doesn't.
And the thing that haunts me, you know, the thing that makes me shatter my whiskey glass right in my hand (ho ho! Explain THAT to your case worker), is that both of my children are, more or less, following in my footsteps. One's military, one's waiting to go. They both want to be coppers.
Well, at least we'll be together, right? Like all the Happy Families, here in the Happy Place.
This town. This job. This culture.
Sometimes I wonder how normal people live, how they deal with each other at work and at home. I imagine that they, with their spouse and their 2.5 children and their dog or their cat live in normal houses, maybe eat dinner together or whatnot. Not this depravity, this never ending avalanche of fail and horror, this horrible toilet of weirdness.
Case assessment: Subject didn't get out of that Awful Place in 1989. Subject is in Hell.
And Hell is order, it is the trains running on time and nothing ever, ever changing. It is constantly falling and never hitting bottom. Consider: The world is in decline, and has been since anyone can remember...But it never actually crashes. It just gets worse and worse and there's no end to it.
Could that be anything other than Hell?
Betcha you were expecting demons in red spandex with ridiculous pitchforks, if you believed in Hell in the first place. No, sometimes they look like you and me, but they say things like "Might makes right" and "acceptable losses" and "minimal collateral damage". Or they're some fresh-faced kid in a two thousand dollar suit who says "there's no evidence that emissions from our facility have any connection to the rise in birth defects in the immediate surroundings."
A rational world would not include flying death robots dropping bombs all over 3rd world nations for no apparent reason or gain. It would not include the term "shaken baby syndrome". It would not involve ghastly grinning coroners insane shrinks and burned out cops taking all manner of pills and booze just to get through the day. I imagine it WOULD involve happy families and maybe, you know, getting some sleep once in a while.
And, unlike most people, I know precisely how I got here. You'd think that would help.
It doesn't.
And the thing that haunts me, you know, the thing that makes me shatter my whiskey glass right in my hand (ho ho! Explain THAT to your case worker), is that both of my children are, more or less, following in my footsteps. One's military, one's waiting to go. They both want to be coppers.
Well, at least we'll be together, right? Like all the Happy Families, here in the Happy Place.
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