Your Midweek Update for 02/16/22

I could never stomach living somewhere tropical. As much as I love being able to feel my fingers as I drive to work, I wouldn’t be nearly as satisfied with my life if I weren’t surrounded by snow.

Every time it snows, you talk about how much you love it. We get it!

Every time it snows, I’m reminded of how grateful I am that mother nature is just as murderous as I am. She must take some pleasure in the people she destroys, otherwise why would she keep doing it? Snow isn’t anywhere close to the top of kill list.

I suppose that would be one advantage to living in a warmer climate: the natural disasters. How many people could I kill in a hurricane? It would be so easy to impale them with debris or drown them in the ensuing flood. Leaving them to be taken by the storm doesn’t count towards my kill count because I wasn’t the one who made the light leave their eyes.

Tornados would be fun, too. So much chaos; and everyone hasn’t fled, they’re just in hiding. I would be free to walk around stabbing or dismembering stragglers dumb enough to be on the streets in the middle of a fucking volcano. Or I could break in to people’s homes and make it look like looters.

Killing someone when they believe they’re safe is delicious. It’s the extra layer of betrayal that’s in their expression when they realize that no matter what they did or do, they would never be safe. They trusted society to respect their safety and then I walked in and stole it. All while the world literally crumbles around them. The emotional damage inflicted on victims of home invasion is too good not to pass up.

But I like snow, too. Everything is quieter and the world hides any ugliness you leave behind. It’s calm and smooth and underneath it all, there could be anything: a broken sidewalk, a bent stop sign, a woman who just ran to the corner store for a few things and ended up bleeding out in the upper parking garage of her building, buried in snow for a whole week before anyone discovered her.

What I could do without is the inconsistency. One day it’s blizzarding, the next it’s practically summer. It makes choosing where to bury my bodies so frustrating. They could be in that snow drift for weeks, or they could be discovered by the end of the day. It depends on how much of a bitch mother nature feels like being. Next time I pick up my entire life and run away, I’m headed for the North Pole.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe