Schadenfreude, Pleasure, and Evil
25/08/22
The long con cannot be worth it. From whom can one derive the pleasure of misfortune? Kin, kith, and your lover. Why would you even?
Mother is afraid of death.
The classic trolley problem, a thought experiment where one justifies sacrificing one to save five. These weird utilitarians keep trying to justify murder. Me? I’d just sleep.
And then the problem goes, what if its someone you know? What if it’s the president? What if it’s a cancer researcher? What if its Taylor Swift? Suddenly the utilitarians are no longer utilitarians.
What if its your mom? They justify it by saying that surely your love, your closeness to your mom has to count for something, right? Surely this outweighs whatever utility. Ok but what does mother want? Does mother want to sacrifice herself to save five?
But mother is afraid of death.
And I am Dazai Osamu, constantly finding ways to off myself. Mother may not want to sacrifice herself. But I, on the other hand…
Perhaps in the heat of the moment, If I were lying on the track and I could flip a switch for the trolley to come to me instead of the five, I would. But certainly I wouldn’t be able to let go, if given a long time to decide. The allure of life is too great.
I saw a friend fall down today. It was raining and the floor was slippery and there were a flight of stairs. I thought to myself, while walking in the puddle of water: “I’d certainly become a cripple this time if I were to fall down again”. Because I had just tripped over a small step and sprained my ankle exactly a week ago. Maybe she wasn’t a friend. Just a school “colleague”, as the boi puts it. Then I saw her fall, and I let out a huge “OH!”. Because I was walking right behind her. And instantly I thought, I’m glad that wasn’t me.
My favourite genre of adult film? Bdsm, snuff, resus, heart attacks, asthma attacks. There was a time I was obsessed with fanfiction. My favourite genre being starvation, whether it was an eating disorder or concentration camps, SH (even before being a yeeter, I should’ve seen that coming), graphic pain, … it makes my chest fuzzy. Like a warmth. Eargasm but from reading. Eyegasm?
And would you waste a person’s youth?
But your youth too is wasted.
But is this my endgame?
I, the orchestrator.
On the path to megalomania.
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