I despise the word ¨random.¨

As we speak three little boys are giggling in the kitchen as they pour boiling water over 11 flies that they´ve captured and trapped in a once empty, now full, water bottle. I´ve shrugged this minor psychopathic episode off as a temporary side effect of puberty, but strangly they´ve no sprouting body hair or anger issues to speak of, so could I be in the company of three future serial killers? hah before I even finished typing that sentence, two came up to tell me about stabbing a fly with a needle and then reconnecting the head to find that it moved once again. I was actually interested and surprised, so perhaps I´m a future serial killer as well. Maybe we´re all walking around with serial killer tendencies that we suppress, despite our clear capability to find pleasure in the personal anguish experienced by others.

Earlier today I was studying my spanish words outside in the hammock. Next door, there lives an English couple. Usually when they´re fighting I cannot clearly understad what they´re talking about, its usually just strained voices punctuated with the sound of slamming doors. Today, however, I learned that the man is a selfish bastard and the woman is out of her mind. The other woman (maybe english mormans?) was begging her to calm down, but I´m sure he´s cheating. She´s blowing all of his money, throwing parties- during which they play wonderful music, and trying to maintain a luxurious facade, one that disguises the malevolent interior of their tumultuous relationship. This turmoil is fascinating, as it is on exhibition for all to see at least once every four days.

Today has been slow.

m.i.s.s.m.e.