Curses

Yes, I realised one possible cause for all my unhappiness. It is, as usual, entirely my own fault.

I seem to have got into a terrible habit of cursing people. I wish inventive, poetic, and entirely horrible fates onto everybody for even the slightest misdemeanor. Sometimes I wish bad things simply because they would lend poetic irony to a situation.

Today, as far as I can remember, I've wished people mutilated, impotent, diseased, and dissatisfied. I've wished life-changing catastrophes on people for their own good (yeah, you'll value your life more when you get cancer) and generally been uncharitable and cruel within my own brain. Maybe I shouldn't have watched Saw.

All of those curses above will probably be dissipated by my publicising them, but the millions of others are still out there. And, equally worrying, I curse myself a lot too. I wish misfortune and misery upon my own head. Hey, I'm a writer, where else am I supposed to get material?