A Potential Problem

This is Pablo Picasso.

So February got skipped entirely. Not on purpose, well maybe a little bit. Pretty uneventful. I took a short trip up to Colorado to see some friends and ended up shoot a a .357 at a paper person.

Guns. Guns. Guns.

There was power in it. Too much power really. I started thinking as I was loading the bullets into the chamber just all the fucked up things I could do with this gun. I would never in a million years actually do any of the things I was thinking, mind you. But I was thinking them all the same. Like, not so much thinking about taking a step back and blowing the guys head off in the stall next to me, but what would happen if I did. The reaction of everyone there. There would be a few seconds of disbelief and shock before everyone realizes just what the fuck I did.

The shit would hit the fan at this point.

This makes me think of this one time I was at a house, working for an estate sale company up in Denver. A group of us were loading boxes and random pieces of furniture from a storage unit into the back of a moving truck. Nothing special. This was what we did. The only difference was this time I was standing at the back of the truck holding a box cutter, also nothing new, and a crazy thought came floating from the far reaches of human consciousness and into my head. What if I calmly walked up to my co-worker and friend Dylan and sliced his throat clean open? I didn't want to and I certain wasn't going to fucking do it. But the thought was about what every one else would do. I mean there were about eight people, if not more, around us. Some helping move boxes and some "supervising". I have never had an evil thought directed at Dylan, ever. And it wasn't even really about the actual act of cutting his throat. It was about doing something so completely unexpected and out of the blue. Something that no one sees coming, just to see their reaction.

Now obviously when I told Dylan about this he flipped out.

"How could you think like that?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I think the lesson here is that I should never be allowed to hold a gun or a sharp object. Why is it that these thoughts about doing something crazy only occur when I'm holding something potentially dangerous? If I knew that answer to that, I would probably not have this problem.

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Santa Fe, New Mexico, United States
"So I've made peace with the fallen leaves, I see their same fate in my own body. I won't be frightened when I'm awoken from this dream and return to that which gave birth to me"

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