(no subject)
I was never that child. I never understood the fun in torturing the small animals, moths, ants.. I never liked kicking the sandcastles down, I was the one who built them and then cried when they got kicked down. I never really got the cruel jokes, especially the ones about me. I disliked people, I still dislike people on the whole, but at the time I disliked them because I didn't understand them. Now I dislike people because I understand fully. The story The Destructors, by Graham Green, is one of the few stories I have ever read that I feel actually truly touches on real life, both now and always. It explained about the boy with the magnifying glass frying the ant, and at the same time about the man who beats his wife every night then cries when she leaves him. It explained it all. And it left me understanding, but still hating this instinct that is as pure a human trait as any that I can think of. no other creature is so very confused about power and love.