It Is By Will Alone.

I don't know if I will ever get past the vintage Benetton sheet catastrophe or if such things are even humanly possible. The only reasonable thing I can think of doing is to swear off sharp knives entirely. I suppose things in this household are just going to start looking a little different. Certainly my marinara is going to come across as a bit lumpy, and a curry is going to be an absolute beast. I suppose I have the dual options of going inescapably downmarket and buying it in a jar or going breathtakingly upmarket and hiring a cook. I think a shrewd combination of delivery, insta-meals and dining out is probably the most sensible option, but I'm serious about this knife shit. I don't want to hear anymore about gun control in this country when I see the real threat staring me in the face every morning from the comforts of my cutting board. No more. 

It all seems to be deflection in any case. Like terrorism for instance. The way the media go on and on about it you'd actually think that it might effect my life or something. As though statistically I weren't more likely to be killed by my own physician or even my evening meal which is, by the way, entirely true. The real threats in society are hidden and obscured, by whom I do not know, but a sinister cabal of Senators, bankers, and international financiers wouldn't surprise me in the least All I know is it it probably isn't Putin, and I don't think I'm overreacting to the Benetton sheets thing in the least. 

The knives are already gone. Let the poor people that rummage through the trash for my beer cans deal with that shit. That is what being poor is suppose to be about. Dealing with shit, and strife. So, actually, far from overreacting I'm actually balancing out the universe motherfuckers. 

'Why, hello dark matter, pleased to meet me.'