Rant of the Psychopath
Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2012 3:12 pm
Cut, cut, cut cut cut cut cut. I keep on cutting. Over and over. Really, the blood that sprays doesn't bother me as much anymore. It actually feels rather pleasant, like how when you stand in the shower, the parts of you that are wet are warmer then anything else, even though you were warm just a second ago. Still, you'll try to get that extra bit of warmth, and then look forward to it when you get out of it again. Everyday, you'll look forward to the shower. It's a minor addiction we've developed, isn't it?
My addiction is a bit different, I will give you that. With a shower you become clean; nice and tidy and presentable. Mine allows me the same luxury, just in a different, more abstract way. See, most people only think of themselves being presentable as a physical thing. "Oooooh, what do I wear today?" They say, "My hair is so messy, my skin so pale, my blah bla-blah blah blah". We've built an entire society based on studying, to the exclusion of all else, physical things.
Me, my addiction is different. I need my fix to keep my thoughts normal. Just that bit of indulgence, that binge of insanity, keeps my thoughts from being too....shall we say, unsocialable. Without this little thing, my thoughts are as dirty as you your unwashed body in the morning. So, every once in a little while, I decide to give myself this one, little, itsy bitsy treat, and go wild! Then, the filth of my mind suitably purged, I can function like the rest of you miserable lot, grinding away at the tedium of the day.
I admit, I've gone a little farther then I need with my problem. Maybe I am finding a touch of joy in the deed, in the hunt and chase. I've started to take my time in the shower, just enjoying the feeling of it. What's life if you don't stop to smell the roses once in a while, right? Is it really so bad that I take pleasure from fulfilling an urge as natural to me as sex is to you? In my humble opinion, my alternative is quite better than sex. Mine has a winner.
And, I admit, maybe I find the whole thing exciting, in a rollercoaster kind of way. What's wrong with getting a little adventure out of life? It's perfectly natural to seek out excitement, to turn the cold water on once in a while. Not like I recieve any other excitement in my life. I mean, what "exciting opportunities" await a pencil pusher? Now, if I was a firefighter, maybe things would be a little different. But I'm not, so I gotta find a way to entertain myself those cold friday nights.
Oh, just let go of the blade. It's wedged in an odd spot, right between-Ah, nevermind, I got it. Going to have to clean it, and probably sharpen it again when I get home. Meh, I'll do it while watching The Simpsons. Or maybe Criminal Minds. Either way, sure to be a pleasant distraction.
Besides, my habit is quite the useful brain-trainer. Human's evolved sentience from using two little things. Deductive reasoning, and creativity. You need to be pretty smart to be able to track an animal through it's native enviroment, and creative enough to think like it does. I just do the same thing, giving my brain a workout in the most basic and wholesome way I know. Can any rubix cube do that, I wonder? I truly doubt it, but if you find it, please share with me.
Now, with all that in mind, what really makes what I do so morally reprehensible? What is it about indulging this little vice that causes people to recoil in horror, to proclaim me a "Freak" or a "Psychopath". Really, don't they know that words can hurt too? I do have feelings, you know. My feelings cause me to have specific needs, like any person. But do I get my own television show? No, instead, people addicted to eating chalk and smelling glue are on primetime, everynight. This just may be the narcissist in me, but I do think that my story is a little more interesting.
Besides, with me, you get that little primal moment, where everything is perfect for just a second. There's prey, and there's hunter, and guess which one I am? Nothing else matters. Not how rich you are, or how pretty, or what you and I think, all it is is just my will and yours, expressed as simply as possible. What you think of me in that moment is worthless, and everything is gloriously simple. Black and white.
Here I am glorifying that physical moment, when just a second ago I had derided society for being too physical focused. But I would insist that there's still a difference. See, my physical is the one that does something. Your physical is all pomp and pose, with no real backbone. All bark, no bite. See, when push comes to shove, your outward appearance, your make-up and finely tuned social graces do nothing. It's all how you think, and how you act on it. Still, get enough of you folk together, and BAM! There goes anyone else different.
But alone...that's a different matter. Do you know how many will beg for their lives when death is looming? More then would admit it to someone else. See, most of you draw strength from a group, exponentially increasing in strength. Thrice-threaded string and what not. Some of you are really good at this, and can use the people around them to achieve what they want. The politicians, the leaders, the priest. They can all sense that little connection and change it ever so slightly towards the right direction.
Then there's people like me. We're not so good at the whole "subconscious conformity" thing. We do what we want, and we are naturally inclined to do so. We are the heroes of old! The villains and saints who make up every fairy tale. Where you all will unite under whatever seems popular, we are the ones who stand and disagree politely. Now, how people view us after the fact is based on how close to their social principles we are.
Damn, the stench after this is always so sweet, but in a sickening way, you know? It smells like diabetes, really. No matter, one quickly gets used to it, and some may even find this aroma.....delectable, I think the word would be. A lot of aspects of this are an aquired taste, I suppose. From the simple contentness of a sharp knife, to the feel of flesh beneath cold steel.
Anyhow, it's about time for me to pack up. Wouldn't do for anyone to walk by and see this scene, now would it? It'd just be a further complication. It's been a nice chat with you, it really has been, and I hope you're around the second time. Also, I'd suggest burning this place when I'm gone. Your fingerprints are here as well. Wouldn't want anyone to think you were insane, now would we? Tah-tah!
My addiction is a bit different, I will give you that. With a shower you become clean; nice and tidy and presentable. Mine allows me the same luxury, just in a different, more abstract way. See, most people only think of themselves being presentable as a physical thing. "Oooooh, what do I wear today?" They say, "My hair is so messy, my skin so pale, my blah bla-blah blah blah". We've built an entire society based on studying, to the exclusion of all else, physical things.
Me, my addiction is different. I need my fix to keep my thoughts normal. Just that bit of indulgence, that binge of insanity, keeps my thoughts from being too....shall we say, unsocialable. Without this little thing, my thoughts are as dirty as you your unwashed body in the morning. So, every once in a little while, I decide to give myself this one, little, itsy bitsy treat, and go wild! Then, the filth of my mind suitably purged, I can function like the rest of you miserable lot, grinding away at the tedium of the day.
I admit, I've gone a little farther then I need with my problem. Maybe I am finding a touch of joy in the deed, in the hunt and chase. I've started to take my time in the shower, just enjoying the feeling of it. What's life if you don't stop to smell the roses once in a while, right? Is it really so bad that I take pleasure from fulfilling an urge as natural to me as sex is to you? In my humble opinion, my alternative is quite better than sex. Mine has a winner.
And, I admit, maybe I find the whole thing exciting, in a rollercoaster kind of way. What's wrong with getting a little adventure out of life? It's perfectly natural to seek out excitement, to turn the cold water on once in a while. Not like I recieve any other excitement in my life. I mean, what "exciting opportunities" await a pencil pusher? Now, if I was a firefighter, maybe things would be a little different. But I'm not, so I gotta find a way to entertain myself those cold friday nights.
Oh, just let go of the blade. It's wedged in an odd spot, right between-Ah, nevermind, I got it. Going to have to clean it, and probably sharpen it again when I get home. Meh, I'll do it while watching The Simpsons. Or maybe Criminal Minds. Either way, sure to be a pleasant distraction.
Besides, my habit is quite the useful brain-trainer. Human's evolved sentience from using two little things. Deductive reasoning, and creativity. You need to be pretty smart to be able to track an animal through it's native enviroment, and creative enough to think like it does. I just do the same thing, giving my brain a workout in the most basic and wholesome way I know. Can any rubix cube do that, I wonder? I truly doubt it, but if you find it, please share with me.
Now, with all that in mind, what really makes what I do so morally reprehensible? What is it about indulging this little vice that causes people to recoil in horror, to proclaim me a "Freak" or a "Psychopath". Really, don't they know that words can hurt too? I do have feelings, you know. My feelings cause me to have specific needs, like any person. But do I get my own television show? No, instead, people addicted to eating chalk and smelling glue are on primetime, everynight. This just may be the narcissist in me, but I do think that my story is a little more interesting.
Besides, with me, you get that little primal moment, where everything is perfect for just a second. There's prey, and there's hunter, and guess which one I am? Nothing else matters. Not how rich you are, or how pretty, or what you and I think, all it is is just my will and yours, expressed as simply as possible. What you think of me in that moment is worthless, and everything is gloriously simple. Black and white.
Here I am glorifying that physical moment, when just a second ago I had derided society for being too physical focused. But I would insist that there's still a difference. See, my physical is the one that does something. Your physical is all pomp and pose, with no real backbone. All bark, no bite. See, when push comes to shove, your outward appearance, your make-up and finely tuned social graces do nothing. It's all how you think, and how you act on it. Still, get enough of you folk together, and BAM! There goes anyone else different.
But alone...that's a different matter. Do you know how many will beg for their lives when death is looming? More then would admit it to someone else. See, most of you draw strength from a group, exponentially increasing in strength. Thrice-threaded string and what not. Some of you are really good at this, and can use the people around them to achieve what they want. The politicians, the leaders, the priest. They can all sense that little connection and change it ever so slightly towards the right direction.
Then there's people like me. We're not so good at the whole "subconscious conformity" thing. We do what we want, and we are naturally inclined to do so. We are the heroes of old! The villains and saints who make up every fairy tale. Where you all will unite under whatever seems popular, we are the ones who stand and disagree politely. Now, how people view us after the fact is based on how close to their social principles we are.
Damn, the stench after this is always so sweet, but in a sickening way, you know? It smells like diabetes, really. No matter, one quickly gets used to it, and some may even find this aroma.....delectable, I think the word would be. A lot of aspects of this are an aquired taste, I suppose. From the simple contentness of a sharp knife, to the feel of flesh beneath cold steel.
Anyhow, it's about time for me to pack up. Wouldn't do for anyone to walk by and see this scene, now would it? It'd just be a further complication. It's been a nice chat with you, it really has been, and I hope you're around the second time. Also, I'd suggest burning this place when I'm gone. Your fingerprints are here as well. Wouldn't want anyone to think you were insane, now would we? Tah-tah!