It is the fate of a sarcastic bitch to be, well, considered just a plain old coldhearted bitch. Our humor is dark and oftentimes inappropriate; inappropriate in pitch and inappropriate in content.
I've changed a great deal in the past year. I feel I am both a better me to me and a more selfish me to everyone else. And I'm happy about that. But there remains a part of me that feels responsible for everyone and everything. If someone hurts, I need to make that hurt go away. Even if it is my enemies' hurt.
I want to snark and cut things down to size but then I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Politically correct and snark spells o.x.y.m.o.r.o.n. Or just plain moron.
This morning I followed my heart down a road it's been too timid to travel for two decades or more.. I drove past a cat that had been run over and I did not keep driving. I sated my impulse to care and to be responsible for this helpless creature. I cried at the trauma drama this event stoked in me. I cried for the loss of this kitty's life. I felt compassion and love and acted upon those feelings.
Fuck work. Fuck responsibility. Life is made of these tiny choices. So long I have made choices against my heart. It hurt like a mother fucker but I still feel so much better that I took that cat to our vet and made sure he was no longer suffering. And I'm lucky to have a vet that has a protocol in place to deal with these situations.
They told me I was very kind to do what I did. No one ever does that, so I must be a wonderful and great person. My one coworker who I told and swore to secrecy echoed this sentiment. And though I think these folks mean their words very kindly, I know they are not true about me. And I've learned not to throw these kind words back at their owners. I accepted their praise, thanked them, and moved on.
I don't believe in altruism. Ever since I devoured, and purged, the works of Ayn Rand at around age 20 I formulated a theory on altruism that has wavered very little in the intervening decades. I don't believe in the goodness of people in general. I do believe people can and do do good.
What I did today is not because I am a good person. It was not a selfless act. I saw that cat and I hurt. I needed to help the cat to help my hurt. Helping that cat made me feel like I was doing the right thing at the right moment. And now that cat will be a part of me forever. I did it for him, but I did it for the me that was once him, metaphorically speaking, of course.
I could not stand by and allow this life form to be flattened by the tires of rush hour. And I didn't. And if this cat has an owner, maybe my small act will reunite him with them. That is my last hope.
After I had shared my experience with my coworker, crying and hugging, and letting loose the pain, I could laugh and make sick comments about how beautiful the cat was, as long as you looked at him from an angle that hid his flattened skull. She probably thinks I'm a freak for bawling like a baby one moment and mocking the physical shape of this poor creature, in another breath.
Hopefully someday I may be a good enough satirist to no longer offend but enlighten. Atruism smaltruism.