"Dreams of Cruelty" by Joanna Jeanine

People are tired. You can see it in their dead, bloodshot eyes and gnashing teeth. They are angry, if not at least disgruntled. It seems like everybody wants to break each other down. And that underlying sentiment is what will explode. It’s a deep, deep seated resentment for each other: we can’t even look at each other. We go about our days, in and out, wondering why life is the way it is, and are disgusted by the answer: to simply exist while we are alive. 

There are people out there who are willing to go that distance to lash out, to harm or kill another person due to this rage, due to that underpinning of societal anger. And if they don’t, they find themselves in a state of pain and suffering, in mental anguish, unable to live with society, while not being able to live without it. Rage needs a focus, an outlet, or it’s turned internally. 

Everyone has dreams of cruelty, of wanting to do harm, even it is just a glint of sadism in our minds at the supermarket. Or we want to be harmed, allowing someone to control or dominate you. Those seeking these dreams keep their calm, most of the time, but it is often people find others to fulfill their lusts and needs. It begins with media, most likely pornography, and then escalates. Soon enough, you either find yourself submissive, beaten down, and become a masochist, or, bolstered and aggressive, seeking out those masochists to treat them as such, to let their caged animal instincts out. It could be at private sex parties, sex clubs, or a full on orgy. 

Although, even that gets tired: the controlled lust, the safe words, the general apathy for normal sexual situations, or even deviant or fetishistic natures. That is where you get your torturers, your lust murders. Total uncontrollable urges to rape, torture and kill: the explosion of the human mind out into precise ways of treating the world and others like a sick puppet show, and worse, like their own cattle. 

There is no addressing or fixing this issue. Most times, human consumption and lust is insatiable, whether it be as banal as what food you stuff in your mouth, or the enjoyment of others suffering, or being suffered by other people. There is no catharsis, no curing the stained human condition. We must consume, lest be consumed. 

The cycle of these dreams of cruelty renew and begin again, where the victim becomes the perpetrator, the hunted the hunter, and then the final goodbye, to mark your loss among those around you, for better or worse, and to finalize your contribution to the world. 

This is what makes people tired. Death. Time is running out, and many have things to do beforehand. Whether it’s a walk in the park, gazing at the grazing sheep, or downright nights of bloodlust, I really can only speculate, but I do know that for many, this tiredness will come walking right up to you, out of the woodwork, and grip you by the neck.