Faces

I don’t know when it started. It’s been a couple months at least. Probably longer.

I just can’t stand looking at peoples’ faces, anymore. It’s painful. It really is. Just a glance at somebody makes me ill. Something toxic there. I hate to say it because it will seem like I think I am better than everyone, which is the furthest thing from the truth.  I can’t stand to look at my own face.  When I see my own face, I automatically bark fuck you, motherfucker! or fucking idiot!

 When I look at a face I see the. . .wrongness.  The misuse.  The abuse of their own being.

No.  No.  It’s not really their own being.

It’s the abuse of their purpose. . .their design. . .their blood.

On the other hand, I don’t mind looking at small children. Toddlers. I feel tremendous sympathy. I feel so sorry for them. Look at them. Wobbling around this world. Most of them smiling, waving at strangers. They don’t know they’ve been set on the path to Hell. This life will be a hell, and then most of them will conclude in Hell.  I could cry, I feel so sorry for them, wobbling around this world.