"Perhaps," therapist says, "you should take some time to restructure your ethical system." Sulk. Therapist don't make me feel better. Get dizziness talking to him. Too hard. Maybe I just stomp him I feel better. Murder get complex fast though. I need simple.

Vacation seems simple. Kids crabs crawl along the beach. Throwing sand round. With their plastic shovels and buckets and claws and that peculiar sidewise step. Sand get into my shoes. Fly into my face. My eye. I mad.

Kids crabs good for stepping on I think. Crabs crunchier, kids meatier. Sand all over kids, fuck it, pop into my mouth. Crabs too much work. Parents too, waving legal documents in my face. Too squirmy, antsy, yell too much, too loud going down. Give me gas indigestion, bah. Stomp.

Police come, try to arrest me. I so mad I stomp on them too. Natural respect for authority figures--gone. Gone gone. Stomp stomp.

Therapist wasn't happy but I just laught and laught.