Every day after launching the train of my habits, I go after the magic box in order to slake my thirsty soul:
“Dozens of men and women lost their lives in the sinking ship.”
“A woman murdered her husband, pouring poison into his cup of tea.”
“The father of the family murdered his wife and two daughters with his gun.”
I do not have any fun until someone dies,since I need to see at a safe distance the destruction of everything, and to live until the whole world dies. I have developed an obsession with seeing the death of everything(maybe agonizing that maybe itself has a mysterious pleasure) and the more at these deaths I look, the more I feel the need to wash my hands.
I want to redeem myself from the sin of seeing their deaths with washing my hands. How pleasant the salvation from corruption is.