Blame the pancakes?

A few days ago, I was eating breakfast when I suddenly became aware of the fact that I could no longer feel my benevolence toward humankind.

Everyone else was talking, and I was searching my insides for any trace of what other people might think of as their soul. And I couldn't find it. I couldn't feel it. It had vanished or evaporated or shriveled and died.

I think most people have some benevolence toward humankind. You might not be aware of it all the time, but we all have that internal (infernal?) Anne Frank in our heads saying, "In spite of everything, I really do believe that people are good at heart!"

Maybe you think of it as the angel on your shoulder, your optimism, your hope for the future. I know that it used to be there. When I got disgusted with the horrors of the world, my benevolence would show up. It told me not to think about all the terrible atrocities human beings visit upon one another, and concentrate instead on the warm and wonderful individuals who populate my life. It allowed me to find joy in a world that inspires disgust, disappointment, and yes, bitterness.

And I can't find it, and I can't figure out where it went.

On a Scale from 1 to Bitter: Pretty Goddamned Bitter.
1-800-Bitterness.com Radio: Bright Eyes - Waste of Paint
1-800-Bitterness.com Reading List: Choke by Chuck Palahniuk