Week 6: Never Have I Ever…

9 Jan

Greetings. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is, let’s say, Mitchel.

You know how some people use hand-puppets made of socks or wooly mittens to express their true feelings during therapy sessions because having the words come out of their own mouths is a little too much like having a dirty-clawed cat scratch at an already open wound while a parade of singing children merrily sprinkle salt over it? Yes, me neither, how very puerile, heh-heh..


I’ll be your sock-puppet host for this evening.

Shame is, variously, an emotioncognitionstate, or condition. The roots of the word shame are thought to derive from an older word meaning to cover; as such, covering oneself, literally or figuratively, is a natural expression of shame.”, trusty Wikipedia notes.

Vergüenza, skam, honte, malu. Ruşine.

When playing drinking games, the first thing people go for, as an ice-breaker, are more often than not merely sexual things. Innuendo or straight up, fairly softcore so nobody feels excluded. It’s amazing how demystifying something so taboo can make everyone have a jolly good old time, me included. But I don’t know what I would do if they were to take a trajectory a little bit off the trodden path:

OK, guys, settle down, settle down! Everyone got their shot glasses filled up? Cool. Never have I ever… felt like I was too much like my father, in the worst possible ways. Like whenever I stare at the phone ringing, but can’t bring myself to answer it because what if the words get stuck in my throat and I pathetically choke to death. Like when I get stepped on or bumped into in the streets and I’m the one that can’t stop apologizing like a blithering fool. Or like, guys, when I never get angry, sporting the eerie calm of an ocean at sunrise, but when crap begins to pile up and I finally burst, it’s ..a tsunami of hatred.


My turn now, my turn. Never have I ever… Gone skinny dipping in a river with a girlfriend as a kid, trying to catch fish with our bare hands, exploring each other’s naked flesh to try and supposedly spot any differences, posing as mermaid statues whenever cars would pass by on the neighbouring bridge, honking and honking.


Me already? I don’t really know what to say.. Hm. Never have I ever… pulled on a cat’s tail just a little too hard, jokingly slapped someone I cared about a little too enthusiastically, bitten down on my brother’s arm when we were younger and fighting over some candy bar, bitten down until I tasted blood. Never have I ever done these things and thoroughly enjoyed them.


Alright, I think I’ve got a good one, hehe. Never have I ever… immediately felt punch-below-the-belt confrontational towards someone because they were close to my age and more successful, magnifying their every flaw in my mind and hating their stupid, vapid laugh, full of condescension, even if perhaps it wasn’t, stupid, vapid nor condescending and I was just plagued with crippling insecurity.


Never have I ever… had kleptomaniac tendencies and acted on them. Never have I ever been caught and taken into a dark room, behind the curtains, questioned: “Why did you do it, why didn’t you just pay for it if you had the money?”, you, panic struck, finally aware yet petrified at the idea of consequences:”I didn’t do anything, I put it in my bag out of habit, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t do anything, I put it in my bag out of habit, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t do anything, I.. I put it in my bag out of habit, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

*no one swigs but Mitchel*

I heard “America” by Kafka is an interesting read, but I haven’t touched a copy in such a long time now. It’s got a  rather shameful memory attached to it.

Is it any good?


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