All the things I've ever killed...

Since awakening from the dream below the thought of "all the things I've ever killed" has nagfully lingered over me.. Have decided to compile a list (to be added to as I remember more, or in the unwelcome event that I kill more things).

Decided will only include life I have directly destroyed. Ignoring deaths indirectly contributed to by virtue of my food intake. Having once being a meat-eater, and now a fish-eater, I have certainly colluded in the slaughter of hundreds, if not thousands of innocent animals. However, I never "pulled the trigger" and as such (perhaps coldly in denial) their blood has failed to stain my conscious. Anyway...here goes my confession:

1) Plenty of Plant Life

I've plucked flowers, killed weeds and stood, stamped and sat on various flora and fauna throughout my life. I must of murdered an innumerable amount of greenery. Apart from killing I've constantly maimed - flippantly pulling branches from trees, mowing down grass, picking fruits and berries, pruning this, pruning that... Of course we humans assume that plant life is not sentient, void of consciousness, completely without soul. But who are we to know...

2) Thousands of Insects

Gleefully I've squatted flies. Spraying them and their like with noxious, suffocating gases. As a child I set up insecticoid Guantamano bay's, imprisoning creepy-crawlies of all shapes and sizes, only to pull off their wings, snap their antenna or drown the still squirming creatures. Remember inventing a game that I played for hours, bouncing a tennis ball off an army of ants climbing the wall...I kept on going, massacring till all of them were mashed.

3) Arachnids

I've turned on the taps and watched spiders, small and large, waving all eight legs, vainly trying to paddle as they spiral down the plughole.

4) Cockroaches

I've squished and squashed my fare share of these, admittedly vile, looking beings. Why would a God of love, compassion and beauty create the cockroach? Who knows, but their unpleasing appearance is certainly no excuse for my murderous actions.

5) Worms

Not for a long time now, but I recall in my youth, over-doing my experimentation with these creatures ability to regenerate when cut in half. Child-hood curiosity led me to ascertain if the ugly, wriggly things could regenerate from ever smaller segments...Once you get past quarters it turns out they can't, but in the name of science my trials continued.

6) Ticks

I've burnt ticks off dogs ears, then squashed the pus-filled parasites with my heel.

7) Lizards

Similar scenario to the worms. Was fascinated by the lizards ability to regrow limbs. Would capture them, decapitate appendages, watch and wait. After much study, with dozens of "volunteers", was able to conclude that lizards are unable to regrow their heads.

8) Mice

I've lain poison. I've put out back-breaking snap taps, smeared with tantalizing, tempting snacks like peanut butter and slithers of chocolate, slices of cheese. I put out glue traps and buckets of beer. I'm guilty of trying to kill these vermin in every imaginable way possible. And now and then I've succeeded. And to think we share 99% of our DNA...We're practically related, yet I didn't think twice.

9) A bird

Seven years old. Skipping down the street with my sister beside me. A family of tiny songbirds passes by, flying low, leaving a trail of chirping. By some freak accident my skipping foot, raised high in the air, blocks the path of one tiny bird and causes a mid-air collision.

The little creature fell to the ground. We picked it up. It was still alive but motionless. We took it home, me crying my eyes out whilst my sister assured me

"He'll be okay. We'll call the RSPCA and they'll know what to do."

She rang the number, whilst I cradled the tiny, light as air, bundle of pretty brown feathers in my hands. I can clearly see it's little head right now. It was still making chirp-chirp noises and its eye were constantly blinking, but the body didn't - couldn't - move.

Of course, the RSPCA didn't come rushing out to save a tiny songbird with a broken skull. They just said "Let it die peacefully". I remember we tried to give it water, dripping droplets from a pipette...Then I held it, gently stroking its downy back, singing to it with my sobs as it slipped away.

We made a little bed for it. I prayed before I slept. Next morning it was dead. I cried and cried, convinced I had murdered this beautiful, innocent beast. We buried it in the garden and I kept on crying.

Definitely the largest thing I've ever killed. And certainly the most traumatic.

10) Bacteria/Germs

I've bought all those Antibacterial surface cleaners and soaps. I've put Detal in water and scrubbed whole civilisations of microbes to their doom. But in my defence I'm sure I've also - especially in my student days - afforded such life-forms many opportunities to thrive and multiply.

11)....To be continued.

7.4 on the Scary Scale

Disturbed and restless night; haunted by gruesome visions. Running. Fighting. Arguing. Caught up in a crazed panic. Some God-awful distopia, cursed with perpetual night, peopled by desperate vagrants and devilish madmen. An entire race in wretched rags. A population of psychotic tramps, thin and gaunt, eyes bloodshot and bulging. They steal, stab and scavenge to survive. Every man for himself...

Running amongst them, horrified by what I see. A stranger's shoulder collides with mine. Eye contact. A menacing look.

"Sorry..."

The stranger gives a sadistic smile, his lips a pale isle of pink amidst a sea of stubble.

"Too late for that" he snarls and suddenly he's chasing me, roaring and screaming - a battle cry that calls to him companions. Engulfed by absolute terror, franticly fleeing on anguished, automatic-pilot . Scrambling down dark streets we race, six or seven athletic lunatics hot on my heels. Wheezing, panting, sweating pure adrenaline. On and on it goes, the furious horde recruiting as we go; growing larger, gaining ground! Shouting a chorus of obscenities. Blood-curdling threats infused with hate and anger.

Jumping, crawling, climbing to escape. Desperate to evade pursuit. Hoping that, somewhere, somehow, there's a favourable finish line for this deadly decathlon.

Then the net is cast. A dark, heavy web falls from above, clothing me like an unwelcome garment. Tripping, tangled up in tight, ropey knots. Trapped. Surrounded. They push and prod their prey, kicking, spitting, playfully tormenting.

The pipe in my pocket is wooden. A small, carved musical instrument. Clasped with a steely grip I extract it unseen. Must defend myself. Violence is the only way. Uneager of what must follow...

With swift ferocity I attack, viousiously swinging the pipe through the netting, impaling its pointed end far within the fleshy throat of the nearest dirty-faced nomad. A crimson fountain spurts and wells from the wound. The pipe lashes out again, digging deep into the belly of another horrific hobo. Again I strike, administering vengeful justice with no hint of mercy. Soon my breath sings alone in the quiet night air. Around, swampy red ground, littered with lifeless limbs; frosen faces, painfully slain.

Goliath guilt rises up inside. I have become like them. Worse than them. I have taken life. I am a murderor....

Bits and Pieces

Sleep patterns recently changed. Rising earlier; seems to have effected quality of dream recall. Now tend to wake clutching convoluted fragments, too nebulous to narrate...Best remembered snippets have included:

Costa Del Darfur

Sat in a travel agency, urgently determined to book a last minute package holiday. Eagerly explaining to the agent both budget limitations and an adventurous daring to embrace any destination, so long as it's-

"Cheap, hot and sunny!"

"Hmmm...Well, we've got an unbelievable deal right now" the agent exclaims and proceeds to describe the delightful details - Grand resort, great room, glorious restaurant!

Muggins is totally sold, overly excited, doesn't even comprehend what country it's in.

"Fantastic! We'll take it."

In a haze of holiday euphoria the plane glides down, a connecting coach crawls through dusty desert and suddenly we're at the hotel. Almost immediately my better half (or perhaps more accurately my "better three-quarters" as suspect that the share of good qualities is not equally divided between us) adopts a permanent scowl and an air of shocked disdain.

Perplexed I attempt to buoy her mood by entering into the holiday spirit with frivolous abandonment - tempting her down to the pool, ordering room service; extravagant cocktails, sizzling snacks. But this only serves to make things worse; till finally she spits with accusing disbelief:

"You do realize where we are don't you?"

"Yeah - We're on holiday"

"We're bloody well in Darfur!"

"Oh..."

This certainly puts a dampener on the situation. To make matters worse the next morning huge clouds cluster the sky and the rest of our stay is hampered by uncharacteristically wet weather. I sulk and curse the travel agent; unable to enjoy myself in any way for fear of being admonished for forgetting "those less fortunate than ourselves" whose close proximity I've so stupidly chosen for our excessive, vulgar vacation.


Christopher "Care-Bear" Walken

On set, witnessing filming of a new Sci-Fi epic, starring non-other than the wickedly cool Walken. The scene being shot somehow seems to incorporate all of the finished special effects right now, as it's acted. Christopher Walken is some kind of alien, or highly evolved human, capable of projecting a shimmering beam of energy that shoots out like a dazzling ray from the centre of his chest.

Acting in spectacular bursts of real-life slow-motion, Walken does battle with similarly endowed beings, all radiating their own colourful laser-like emanations. The effects of the energy seems to depend on the particular power that the alien possesses. Red rays seem to melt things, blue one's immobilise, green one's calm and heal, yellow one's inflict pain etc.

Suddenly the concept feels very familiar and I quietly comment -

"It's a bit like the Care Bears isn't it?"

"Shhhh! Keep quiet!" Someone shout-whispers.

Walken glares at me and the filming continues.