A short poem.
Justice is perverse.
Unfortunately, as anyone that’s ever gotten something from a claw machine, the zeal to actually get it is far more interesting than the zeal in having it.
…Where people who commit suicide are understood in the proper context of their struggle and not crassly referred to as “weak.”
That whole paragraph sounds fucking insane to someone that can go to a movie theater, crowded or not, and relax into the cushioned seats and enjoy a fucking movie.
Reaching the peak of human potential is not without its perils.
If the training is to shoot 15 rounds into a man within 15 seconds of rolling up to the stop, shoot more after he’s already down on the ground, and then handcuff him while he’s clearly dead and still train your gun on the corpse, then clearly the departmental policies are flawed.