It's not that downbeat, anyway. I'm sure you've heard worse. I just want you all to know that I'm not being gleefully, intentionally depressing. I'm just giving you some insight into how I think. I feel that great art - and this blog certainly is art - should say something about the human condition, even if the human in question is a bit of an idiot.
Integrity is the watchword. Integrity and truth. And if we have a few laughs along the way... well, that's just a happy bonus!
Enough with the preamble - onto the main bulk of the amble.
I often fantasise about being killed by a sniper.
It's usually when I'm walking somewhere - often to or from a meeting at work. It happens when my mind is at rest. Or not at rest. I just imagine that I'm shot through the head, and that's the end of the story.
I used the word 'fantasise' on purpose. I don't worry that it will happen. It's not just an idle thought experiment. It's a fantasy. I yearn for it. I fantasise about being killed by a sniper in the same way as another person might fantasise about winning the lottery. It's just a nice place to be for a while, in that warm, comfortable, imaginary world. It won't happen, but it's satisfying to imagine that it will.
It's not a suicidal thought, though. It's specific to being shot by a sniper. It must belong to the same family of thoughts as when I wanted to drill a hole in my head.
I should say that I don't think about who would be shooting me. That's not important. I think that's why it needs to be a sniper, rather than a face-to-face assassin. The sniper is quick, clean and anonymous.
Equally, I don't consider the consequences of the act; how people would react, who would have to clean the carpet, etc.
The shot is the end.
No, hang on - I also imagine myself crumpling to the floor. That's it. It ends with the crumpling.
We have a big glass roof in the middle portion of the building, so it would be quite easy for someone to get the shot. We also have big windows on the side of our open-plan section, which would also enable a clear sight-line.
I said it was comforting to imagine being shot by a sniper, but it's not something that fills me with happiness. My overwhelming emotion when considering this scenario is one of relief.
Just imagine how relieved I'd be! (I wouldn't actually have time to be relieved, but this is just a fantasy.)
It's a bit like being really thirsty and imagining a tall glass of water. Imaginary quenching isn't as good as real-life quenching, but it's still pretty great.
Being shot by a sniper would be such a relief.
It's like if you've been asked to look after a cat, but just before the owner sets off on holiday, the cat dies. Phew! I really dodged that bullet.
With a sniper, you dodge a bullet by failing to dodge a bullet.
You get hit by that little metal one, but it means you avoid the massive, overwhelming life-shaped bullets that are fired at you all day, every day.
This is quite downbeat, isn't it? I haven't really lightened the tone as much as I'd have liked to.
Look! Here's a bear having a nice sit down:
That will cheer everyone up!
I wonder how many people get killed by snipers' bullets each year? Probably not a huge amount. Especially in British publishing houses.
It's probably about the same odds as a lottery win.
I think if I genuinely did get shot by a sniper, it wouldn't be as freeing as I imagine. Someone really would have to clean the carpet. There would be an investigation.
If it does happen, after I've posted this, my blog readers will surely become the main suspects. You all have the motive, which is making my fantasy a reality and therefore making me happy. Just as my blog has made you happy these many years. And you own a sniper rifle, don't you?
I don't envy the police detective tasked with interviewing EVERY SINGLE reader of this blog! It will take weeks to go through them all! Weeks!
But there's no harm in fantasising, is there? I not hurting anyone (except for that stupid cat, but he had it coming).
My only real concern is whether to spell 'fantasise' with an 's' or a 'z'. Somehow, the 'z' spelling seems a lot dirtier. Fantasize. It's probably because Americans are so depraved.
***
Just a few things to clear up:
1) This talk of sniping doesn't mean that I want to be a hitman. I definitely don't, as I've made clear in the past.
2) I'm probably not as miserable as this makes me sound.
3) I have a massive head. So if you're an amateur looking for an entry-level opportunity, this might be something to consider.
4) I won the lottery this morning. I will use the prize money to purchase ZERO HELMETS.
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