The Future

I have a hard time picturing much of a future.

 

I envy my friends who seem able to see a way out, who can picture a time when life goes back to normal.

 

I can’t.

I can’t picture myself living past 40, either.  I try to imagine the future and all I see are dead ends, or the inevitable tragedy brought on by a handful of powerful people with no restraint.

There will be another world war, or perhaps another civil war, I keep thinking.  Once again I’ll spend months in a dirty hole waiting to die.  Once again I’ll come back to places I once knew and haunt them like a revenant.  That is, if there’s a world to come back to next time.  With nuclear weapons in the equation, I kind of doubt it.

Generally, I live in a constant state of anguish because I honestly have come to the conclusion that the world has learned nothing in the last century.  And as before- as ever- it will be us innocents who suffer the worst.

I only wish the whole world could experience what I did.  I wish they could remember what it was like to be doomed through no fault of their own, then snap out of their backward ways and live for peace like I did.

But I would starve living on these wishes, and there is no action to fix the problem.

Despair.  I know such profound despair.

 

A Lasting Effect

I find that my response to body horror is still intensely strong almost 2 years after my last graphic memories of the war broke.

I can say for an absolute certainty that I was jaded about body horror before.  I think if anything, I found it uninteresting because it moved me so little.  Now I find myself avoidant of it because my response is too strong.

I wish I could get those images out of my head.  You can look at photographs from WWI and it doesn’t do it justice; you can’t, for instance, see the sickly purple color of a bloated corpse or smell the odor of death.  It can’t give you the feeling of accidentally touching cold, dead skin and it can’t give you the immense emotional shock of seeing men you’ve trained with become red stains on the earth.

I feel nauseated now just thinking of it.  This wouldn’t have even come up if I hadn’t come across some body horror-themed artwork today which, though stylized and unrealistic, still drew me into an unwelcome place mentally.

I think this has a lot to do with why I became a vegetarian.