after a slightly mortifying conversation with clarence about aging and all the wrinkly saggy times we have ahead of us, he spits out a genius comment.

talking to paul ling (of all ppl)
we came to a morbid conclusion
like any other living organism, we are simply sacks of meat rotting awayrot rot rot... every moment

so basically... humans are walking composts. oh joy.

which then brings me to an incident which left me traumatised for a good ten minutes (i have a short attention span). second degree murder.

it all started when i was deeply concentrating on my task of slicing snowpeas. i'm obssessive compulsive, you see, and i like symmetry. meanwhile, my mum was chattering away on the phone when paul pokes his grey-topped head through the flyscreen door.

"sweetie! you better come out in your boots." mum's mouth immediately clamped shut as she registers the meaning behind his words.

"uh oh. another snake?"

"yeaaap."

mum puts on her knee high gum boots and marches purposefully into the garden, paul following closely behind.

"where?"

he points to the vegie cage.

paul notices a large rock by his feet and picks it up. "this should do the job," and he hauls the rock straight at the unknowing tiger snake. "damn. missed." he picks up another rock and smashes it on the snake from a distance. "not quite." and another one.

the rock hits its target and smashes into the poor snake, its abdomen crushed into two-dimensional flatness, blood seeping out, its life force draining away slowly with it. trapped under the sewer lid, we watched as it writhed in pain, struggling to slither away in escape.

a great wave of sadness washed over me as i watched the tragedy unfold. "can't you end its pain sooner?" apparently not. tiger snakes are one of the deadliest snakes and have the ability to spit out venom a fair distance. the best we could do was leave it to die slowly, under extreme pain, trapped.

in order to protect ourselves from potential danger, we murdered an innocent creature, unaware of the danger it posed. one moment happily slithering. the next, feeling death creep over slowly, painfully. every breath, torturous.

life is cruel.