Broken Baby

She longed for catharsis. Aristotle said that humans need tragedy because they need catharsis, and she longed for great tragedy. Not tragedy that would set her off her path but tragedy like an atomic bomb to disconnect her from the path she had taken. It was anathema, disgusting, she hated the path, resented that she was inextricably tied to it and loathed herself as a consequence of it. She would at times, manage to forget parts of herself, at times able to see clearly that it was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but then all at once, it would hit her like a ton of bricks, and the crushing weight would bring her close to tears. She remembered how she had passed through the world unscathed for so many years, believed it to be so full of hope, and loathed the new world she now could now could not help but to see, the horrible truth of its harshness, its evil and its unfettered cruelty. She hated the world that she lived in and saw now that she could not return to the way in which she previously lived, because she now lived in another world. The blinds had been ripped from her eyes and the trauma of reality had left her incapacitated, and angry and sorely bitter.