Psycho

I’m a FUCKING psychopath and I know it! I’m the sickest person you’re ever going to meet. I can’t remember the last time I felt the SLIGHTEST BIT of empathy. You don’t believe me? I don’t need you to. I’m a sick ***** who gets enjoyment out of other peoples pain. And my own pain as well. I’m a sadist who enjoys looking up serial killers and their ‘modus operandi’, the more horrible, the better. I manipulate people for my own enjoyment, still not convinced? I watched a real video of a real suicide (that was back when I wanted to kill myself, it was part of doing research) and there was no real reaction. And there was someone dying! A real person, getting killed! And it doesn’t even shock me. I don’t feel guilty for I have no conscience. I’d kill my own mother for a penny. But most of all, most of all I want to kill those who wronged me. I’ve had fantasies, my first victim would be a boy named Tim for wanting to have sex with me, and then calling me a ‘depressed *****’ who ‘sucks all the energy out of a room as soon as she enters it’ and said he’d gladly see me die and asked me for my money after I die! I would try to seduce him (he’s obviously a perv interested in me, so that shouldn’t be too difficult) and go home with him when his parents aren’t there. Then I’d get naked, both to play I really want to do it, and to make sure there won’t be any blood splatters on my clothes. Then I’d knock him unconscious with some blunt object, or possible use chloroform if I’d know how to make that. Then I’d tie him up and gag him and wait for him to be conscious again. This is where it gets interesting, I’d put on gloves to prevent finger prints on my weapon of choice, a long knife from his kitchen. Then I’d do some damage to his ‘private parts’ with the knife. Then I’d take his own razor blade (yes, he’s also a hypocrite for calling me ‘depressed’ while he himself admitted he once cut 36 times in one week) and carve some words like ‘perv’ and ‘bastard’ into his body. Then I’d mutilate his face and finally, stab him a few times and then cut his throat. Then I’d put my clothes back on, wash my face and light the place on fire, then I’d calmly leave his appartment. Of course this is just an incredibly detailed fantasy, so please don’t call the cops on me. Just the idea of his last memory being my face, the face of the person he hurt, that’s why I’d do it. And he wouldn’t be my only victim, there would be dozens of others. Because there are a lot of people who have wronged me. Well, I’ve told you I’m a sicko, you didn’t believe me so here’s the proof. (I wouldn’t only kill people that have wronged me, I would also kill people I generally just hate and a particular teacher’s young child, but that is mainly a way of torturing the teacher)

Sometimes I wonder why I am like this. I was never abused by anyone, never really bullied, had a bit of an interesting school life and a lot of people who didn’t understand me. But that’s no reason to become a muderous psycho, is it? My pathological lying has got me into some unpleasant situations, but nothing really traumatic. My parents love me, I have a brother who loves me, I grew up around pets, never comitted a serious crime (shoplifting is my worst crime, a can of cola, two cans of energy drink and two small bags of potato crisps, and I didn’t do the actual stealing, a friend of mine just put the stuff in a plastic bag, and we got caught but we just kept walking so eventually there was nothing they could do. It was great fun!), never used drugs or even more than one glass of alcohol. I smoked 4, maybe 5 cigarettes in my entire life, but I still crave a cigarette sometimes because smoking makes me relaxed and I like the feeling in my lungs and the smell/taste. But I don’t do that because I’d have to go into the Turkish neighbourhood (because I’m legally too young) and I really don’t like it there. But that doesn’t have anything to do with me being insane. I’m a master of emotions, whenever a situation gets stressful I can cry, be calm, or get very angry. And I can stop crying very suddenly as well as start unexpectedly. I even master the finer emotions, like mild interest, disapproval and disregard. I don’t really know if I even have real emotions, I know pleasure, blind rage and amusement, but that’s really about it. Deeper emotions like sadness, joy and – I can barely type the word, because I’m so disgusted by it – empathy I just don’t know. I’m really starting to question if I’m human, I mean, physically, yes, I have a heart, ten fingers, and I bleed when I cut myself, but emotionally I’m just so different.

And now you can all go ahead and call me names and stuff, I just thought I’d share. Also, arguments like ‘You’d think differently if your [insert relative here] was murdered’ are invalid, so please don’t do that unless you enjoy being bashed.