You were mighty and strong in your pick-up truck, weren’t you? Feeling tough. It was so easy, like a Death Race 2000 movie, or one of those video games you enjoy when you’re not working night shift at Wendy’s.

You gunned your engine, ignoring the two women trying to capture the stray cats, and you killed them right there on Washington Street, under the streetlight. One was a nursing mother, recently flank spayed. The rescue is out a significant amount of money and has four baby kittens in their care now.

Which will probably please you. Anyone who guns their engine in their big 4×4 and aims straight for the cats -and the women chasing them- is someone who thinks the hurt inside them will heal by hurting others.

How’s that working out for you? Does breaking the back of cats so they die in the street heal the pain inside you? Likely you will graduate—if you haven’t already—to being the guy who believes slapping women keeps them in their place. And move on from there.

You are the reason women prefer bears. This too might please you; “am I scarier than a bear?!” When women gather in our little whispered gossip corners of our powerless lives, we talk about YOU, don’t we? This would make you happy. You are powerful because you hurt things and we must fear you.

Except, son, we don’t fear you and we don’t talk about you, besides briefly, with an expelled breath of slight sympathy for how pathetic you are. Small, dismissible, sad but there are more important topics.

Did killing the cats in front of the women trying to save them on Washington Street heal some of the hurt inside you? I doubt that very much. There are people you can talk to who might help you figure that out. If you can lay down the big tires, the revving engine, the desperate search for relevance and importance and power that led you to literally run down a living creature on your way home from your night shift, you might be able to find more happiness in life.

You might want to see what you can do about this, son. Try dialing 988 and getting a conversation started. And please understand, we are not in shock and awe; we are not afraid of you. We are trying not to laugh at you, poor sad little boy; you’re dumber than dirt if you think pain heals pain, and you’re going to experience a lot more pain than you can inflict. You’re trapped.

We will continue working to heal the world. You can get some help. Try it, son. Those women weren’t setting a trap for you, but we sure can see the one you’re in. Wouldn’t you like to get out of it?