nirix5 | Going to hell, part the 982437928749873974th

So, I'm a horrible person. I've always been a horrible person at heart. The difference is that now, due to accumulated lack of sleep, I let it show.

The point is, despite numerous plumbings of the depths of my soul, I can not find it in me to really care about the whole VTech thing. Nothing. Nada. My tragic empathy reserves have apparently run dry. I've been looking at the whole thing with this cold kind of detachment, and have so far shrugged off a, "Huh. Sucks," and changed the channel.

I'm not sure why this is. It seems to be something along the lines of "people die from horrific violent attacks everywhere and all the time so... what's different?" Maybe I've become desensitized. I mean, I don't laugh when things like this happen. I don't want things like this to happen, and I would never in a million years wish it on anyone. But it's like... damn. I'm supposed to care about every kid that dies in a shooting, or from cancer, or gets run over, and so on and so forth. And I get upset that I'm not more upset at all the senseless tragedy in the world.

Well, I used to get upset, anyway. Now, not so much. I attribute this to the lack of sleep thing and the fact that I'm getting bitter and cynical in my old age. At this point I'm sick of the hoopla and the dissection of minutiae, and wish that the news would report something else (and it's only been a couple of days.) Humans are horrible. This is not news. This is how it has always been. 33 people dead at VTech; suicide bombers going nuts in the Mideast, Sudan, Sierra Leone, the "disappearance" of people in South America... humanity is nothing but an endless list of violence. Sometimes I feel like screaming that all the candles lit for this and that and the other thing are absolutely pointless, because it's who we are. It's inherent. It will never change unless we evolve to become something that's not human.

And you know what? I hate thinking like that.

...I don't even know where I'm going with this whole ramble. I'll probably get bitched at about it. ZOMG I am a bad, bad person. How could I, and all that. I don't know how I can; I just do. All I know is that it's fucking late. Early. Whatever. I'm lucky if I get a good three hours of sleep a night these days, since Quinn is on the computer all the fucking time, talking to his stupid fucking friends. The guy has no ethics and barely any manners in the real world, but on the computer he's got a strict code he MUST adhere to, and has to be polite to all this online people, to the point that it takes him an hour to say goodbye. But that's a story for another time.

GAAAAH.