Everyone’s got a monster inside them, somewhere.
Mine feeds on drama: try to find some point where there’s drama, and I gravitate to it, eat the drama.
Drama feeds my monster, I have to instigate, and I have to see. Someone’s in pain? A rumor to spread? Someone’s unhappy with someone else? The monster sniffs it out. “Ooh, pain? Delicious, stupid pain? Let me have a tiny taste.”
My monster leads me to that. With any luck, it’ll feed on some anguish somewhere. It’ll waste time I don’t have with relationships that don’t make sense.
All of it is just the resistance all over again, right? The work we are meant to do is our obligation to the world.