These remind me of a time when I was at my friend Gina's house around Christmas. We were unpacking ornaments from a dusty water stained cardboard box. She had two large Goodfeathers* ornaments. The pigeons were decked out in scarves and ice skates.
I was making them figure eight across the carpet, twirled them in a single axel or two. This went on for a few minutes and I spaced out a bit. When I snapped out of it, I looked down and saw that they were smashed in my hands and Gina was screaming at me.
"WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?" red in the face, her curls violently bobbing while her big brown eyes welled up.
"I didn't! I mean, um, I didn't mean to... it was an accident??" I stammered in my defense.
"WHAT DID YOU MEAN IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! I SAW YOU SMASH THEM TOGETHER!" she demanded unrelenting.
Hmmm, I guess I did smash them together. What did I think was going to happen? I flashed back to a minute ago when I bumped their beaks together as they grazed past each other. What really did happen? Where did I go? Did I do it on purpose? How rotten, if so!
Why did I do it? Was I jealous that her family got to have traditional Christmas'? Was I secretly angry that she got to have a potpourri of amazing, sentimental ornaments while my mom went to the craft store each year, chose a color theme, and militantly wrapped gold ribbon around the tree from a wobbly ladder whilst shooing me out of the room with her left foot?
I'm still not sure what happened or why, but I do recognize that feeling that bubbles up every now and again. That craving for destruction, utter annihilation. Figuratively and literally. It's a little scary how dark the corners can get. It's important to keep focused, stay present. Don't ever drift off...
*there's an Animaniacs wiki?!?