31 March 2008

For the past two weeks,
I have been very angry ...


I get into a rage over the smallest things and I try very hard to repress it. I grit my teeth, clench my fists, breathe deeply, and sigh as heavily as I can ... but it just isn't working anymore.


For the past two weeks,
I've been privately reverting to primal methods to expell all and any feeling of dissatisfaction that I have ... but it just isn't working anymore.


I think I am innately wicked person, I fantasize about killing the people I'm supposed to care about. It's normal for someone to dream of running over a hated relative or strangling to death a shitty ex girlfriend, but to actually take pleasure in the imagination of beating your friends to death with your steering lock, feeling every splatter of blood, hearing every crack, pop, and twist of each and every bone, the apologizing for their "insensitivity", the crying from the pain, the pleading for you to spare their life.


I think it isn't normal anymore.


It seems to stimulate me ... exhilarate me. Not only do I take pleasure in it, I take pleasure in taking pleasure in it. It makes me happy. It makes me glad that I dreamed it up in the first place. It makes me feel that life is worth living because somehow, someday ... I might be given the opportunity to bring those visions to life.


Like the other day, Afendi annoyed me by repeatedly bragging about how high and mighty his Rappelz guild apparently is. I imagined beating him to death with a golf club, breaking every limb, rib, and tooth before I finally finished off with the head.


Then there was Eric, with his constant verbal abuse towards his teammates during DoTa games. I was creative, I pictured tearing open every joint in his body with my car keys ... and then squatting down next to him with a smoke in my mouth, watching him sobbing and bleeding to death.


Then there was Adrian, with his constant challenging of every word that came out of my mouth. Golf shoes, stomp to death, highway, run over corpse when done.


Why should all this be bothering me?
It never bothered me before.
I've always been patient and tolerant.


But after all this, I don't know what to say about myself anymore.


It doesn't matter what I do, these fantasies just don't seem to go away. All I can think about is murdering anyone that is even slightly rude or remotely annoying.


All I want right now is to get into a fight.


It doesn't matter if it isn't one on one, I just want to hurt someone. It doesn't bother me if I get hurt so badly that I'm not able to walk, talk, or fuck again.


I think I need to find out what is bothering me.


It's time to be fucking antisocial.