my subconscious has tried to kill me three times already.

rotten bastard rotten bastard rotten bastard rotten bastard

the reason why things like these are annoying is that you can't really get your payback. a member of the assassins guild tries to kill you? threaten their life for free. a thief tries to kill you? kung-fu chop them. a mafioso tries to kill you? mail him a horse head. but when your subconscious tries to kill you all you can do is sit around and bury your guilt deep deep under, hoping that it will reach it. not the most theatrical vendetta, if you ask me.

may i know why?

obviously not. the reasons shall be buried in an unmarked spot of my brain's landscape.

in a way,
we could say that the subconscious is a selfish prick.
like those people that go to a show and spend the whole time commenting aloud, and after the show they don't even applaud but spend the time checking they've got their cell phones, and their wallets, and their car keys, but will they bother picking up the wrap-paper and the crushed crisps and the squashed pop-corn littering their seats?
hell, no!
will they try to rub off the ice-cream stains they made on the fabric, or at least apologise?
not a chance.

the subconscious is just like those arseholes. except it follows you home when you leave the venue.