Revenge is one thing I really don’t understand. I saw The Count of Monte Cristo with Adam and Kat tonight, and it was still almost as disturbing as it was the first time. The only reason it was less disturbing was because I sort-of knew what to expect.
The sad thing is, I LIKE Edmund Dantes…I feel bad for him…and I almost want the people to suffer who he makes suffer. And then I don’t like myself.
I don’t like myself because I feel just a little bit of his revenge. It almost becomes my own. Almost, and I feel clenched inside and gutted at the same time. How in the world could someone survive with that, even thrive on it? It makes me ill. Am I just naive?