Bwah. I should be doing my comic, but I'm feeling really lazy and sore. I really am bad at being creative, I tells you. I never finish anything!!
Mum and Dad bought me some plastic mouse-traps. I should go set one in my room but I can't bring myself to do it. I hate those little fuckers, I hate the noise they make in my old artwork at night, but I can't bring myself to steal the life of something so tiny. It really is upsetting me, it's a fucking torment. I clean up and they just move to another area.
I mean - am I a cruel, awful human being if I kill a mouse or six? Are they really hurting me that much? They're annoying, and they make a helluva noise in the blocked up chimney space. It's not fun cleaning up their poops either. I hate that. It's so dirty and gross.
But killing them - God. It tears my heart out. :( I keep telling myself that it's kinder this way than dropping them out in the park cause it's basically making them homeless and prone. And they'll just end up someone else's dead mice anyway. It's a quick, painless death. Apparently.
Oh why can't I do this?! *sighs*
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