Forgive SpangleT, For She May Still Be Stupid
... I almost killed six people today. Well, I couldn't really see, so there may have been more of the strangers. And considering the aftermath, probably more than that, too. And if Terry Pratchett's Mr. Pump (the golem)'s actuarial view of death is to be believed, then definitely more than just those.
Is it a valid excuse that some people are shiny and matter to me while others don't (including some of those whom I almost killed today)? Is it a valid excuse that humans are cruel and likely deserve frightening, painful deaths? Is it a valid excuse that I have also killed many, many a fire ant and participated in both accidental and purposeful deaths of a few Sprague-Dawleys? Is it a valid excuse that I now feel as if I am dangerous and should be kept away from other living things? Is it a valid excuse that we're all going to die anyway?
Of course not.
Other people kill out of necessity for their survival, out of jealousy, out of a misplaced sense of justice, out of righteously protecting the innocent. I almost killed between six and x people today because, like a big cat hunting, I cannot easily switch tracks once I choose one. And I was stressed because everyone was already mad at me for getting lost (because googlemaps led us astray) and their frustration and lack-of-thinking was clogging up my feel. But, once again, those aren't sufficient justification.
But that's not what bothers me so much, because accidents are accidents and no one can deny that. My fear is Gene's; in order for an accident to be excusable as an accident, all it must do is be an accident....
Yeah... I'm fucked up, aren't I? (Well, I'd have to be to have anything in common with Gene Forrester, right?)
And in a strange way, it relates to and differs from the only accident I have ever had.... (in lj post "I'm Stupid" from December 16th, 2006).
There, it was very slow, very harmless -- only property damage, and I was shaking and crying and calmed myself by singing, and my very caring then-boyfriend listened to me panic for a moment and then brought me back to ok-dom by singing "Lean On Me" over the phone.
Here, it was very fast, very didn't-happen -- only lots of fear, and I never crisised but haven't been able to sleep, and my very caring boyfriend is so sweet that I didn't want to scare him but he figured it out despite my ambiguity and then when I asked if he would take that position in the future if I'm unconfident acquiesced responsibly....
So one accident occured and I freaked and the person I was depending on made me feel better, while the other didn't occur and I'm doubting my judgment (as are I'm sure the others who would have been my victims) and the person I depend on agreed to help prevent this happening again.
I mean... no one died by my hand today! It's alright, right? I should be able to sleep tonight knowing I failed to kill anyone!
But all I see when I close my eyes is that car, us in it, dying, and all of the countless actuarial victims suffering... because of me....
Is it a valid excuse that some people are shiny and matter to me while others don't (including some of those whom I almost killed today)? Is it a valid excuse that humans are cruel and likely deserve frightening, painful deaths? Is it a valid excuse that I have also killed many, many a fire ant and participated in both accidental and purposeful deaths of a few Sprague-Dawleys? Is it a valid excuse that I now feel as if I am dangerous and should be kept away from other living things? Is it a valid excuse that we're all going to die anyway?
Of course not.
Other people kill out of necessity for their survival, out of jealousy, out of a misplaced sense of justice, out of righteously protecting the innocent. I almost killed between six and x people today because, like a big cat hunting, I cannot easily switch tracks once I choose one. And I was stressed because everyone was already mad at me for getting lost (because googlemaps led us astray) and their frustration and lack-of-thinking was clogging up my feel. But, once again, those aren't sufficient justification.
But that's not what bothers me so much, because accidents are accidents and no one can deny that. My fear is Gene's; in order for an accident to be excusable as an accident, all it must do is be an accident....
Yeah... I'm fucked up, aren't I? (Well, I'd have to be to have anything in common with Gene Forrester, right?)
And in a strange way, it relates to and differs from the only accident I have ever had.... (in lj post "I'm Stupid" from December 16th, 2006).
There, it was very slow, very harmless -- only property damage, and I was shaking and crying and calmed myself by singing, and my very caring then-boyfriend listened to me panic for a moment and then brought me back to ok-dom by singing "Lean On Me" over the phone.
Here, it was very fast, very didn't-happen -- only lots of fear, and I never crisised but haven't been able to sleep, and my very caring boyfriend is so sweet that I didn't want to scare him but he figured it out despite my ambiguity and then when I asked if he would take that position in the future if I'm unconfident acquiesced responsibly....
So one accident occured and I freaked and the person I was depending on made me feel better, while the other didn't occur and I'm doubting my judgment (as are I'm sure the others who would have been my victims) and the person I depend on agreed to help prevent this happening again.
I mean... no one died by my hand today! It's alright, right? I should be able to sleep tonight knowing I failed to kill anyone!
But all I see when I close my eyes is that car, us in it, dying, and all of the countless actuarial victims suffering... because of me....