I could never understand it, the immense rift between myself and the human race. I observed, I analyzed, I extrapolated, applied and methodized the mechanics of relationships and yet my science yields no positive results. At first I exercised the principles of a productive relationship on the basis of empathy (treated those in the fashion of which I wished to be treated) and still the level of reciprocation was minimal or forced at best… I attempted to appeal to the virtues of charm: exercising humor, adjusting my demeanor to dominating or submissive based on the temperament of the individual I interacted with, flattered when the circumstances were due and retained a sense of honesty when the building of trust necessitated it. I don’t understand what I’ve been doing wrong, what nuance of behavior I have overlooked, why no other people take an interest in me beyond tolerance or mild curiosity (likely derived from novelty)… I am not autistic, I’m a perfectly functioning social individual! The ability to interact is not what eludes me but the ability to maintain and proliferate mutual interest! This constant rejection, this constant denial of appreciation and fondness for me has finally forced me to accept that I am simply an unlikable person, for whatever reason I may never understand… I am an exile of the world. Since birth I have been forever rejected.
But that’s fine, I’ve come to accept that I will never be an integrated entity in the societal body. In the perpetual environment of social isolation I’ve developed an unequivocal love of myself and love of my own ambitions. Without the influence of outside, social forces my life is my own personal kingdom and humans are the subjects to be exploited within it. I have no empathy, no regard for anyone but myself. In a self-centric universe there are no hindrances with the trifles of morality and the trifles of relations, sacrifice on the behalf of others – it is unimpeded, ultimate power in the form of ultimate freedom. Without the obstructions of morals and such I will achieve what is mine, this ambition that is required of me. There is nothing to stop me and so it is inevitable. I am the king of myself therefore a king of the wretch, as a wretch is what I truly am – an unscrupled, selfish, cruel and abominable creature. I am cognizant of my vices, my atrocities and my treachery and I willingly perform them all the same and such embodies the attributes of a true monster. There is an argument to be had that some who commit unspeakable atrocities and horror are not truly bad people as they are operating under a casuistry based in good intention. It is those that are aware of the bad and commit it regardless that are the wretches, and I am the king of the wretch. The aristocrat of squalor.