BORN TO KILL

Journal Entry 8

How could I have been so blind to my true purpose and happiness? It's not my fault that I'm what you might call "evil." In fact, calling me evil would be a gross misunderstanding, as I am the absence of evil. I've tried everything to make myself feel bad, but it's impossible. I recall muddled memories where I cared about small animals, yet I also remember torturing them, sometimes even engaging in acts so depraved that they didn't survive.

Today, I'm frustrated with myself for not fully embracing my darkness and for trying so hard with people. Why did I even bother? It's like having a cat-exciting at first, but after a while, you wonder why you're feeding and caring for something when no one does that for you. No one has ever been there for me, not even a little.

You might think I'm angry, but I can't fully feel that emotion. I have schizoid personality disorder on top of psychopathy. I avoid people but also prey on them-it's my duality.

Today, the penny dropped: I can achieve euphoria and happiness! It's not from killing; torture and slowly eroding people are better. When they're no longer useful, dispose of them-as Father would say, "dispatch." Murder is for those who feel.

I played him like the fool he is. Told him I'm dying and showed him old photos to lure him in. I'm not going to detail how I do it-I don't want you to know. Let's just say it's karma; he's a married man with kids, betraying his wife. That disgusts me, or maybe I use it as an excuse to make him my plaything.

Just like the narcissist before him, Martin, who abused his wife while she died of cancer and squandered $75,000. I'm not done with him either; he's slowly going downhill. When he's weak and broken, I'll take the rest of him and ensure his last memory is of me.

Killing is beautiful because animals fight for their lives more than humans do; humans break easily. But now I understand the killing was never the good part-I certainly didn't enjoy disposal. Sometimes eating them was okay, but mostly it was just "meh."

Zero fucks given-I won't deny myself anymore. You don't, so why should I?

I know I'm partly sadistic-a sadist-but it's so short-lived that when I return to base level, it's horrible.

It's so much happiness, so much euphoria! Truly, I feel so happy that I nearly pass out with joy. Then it's like the animals-I've orgasmed (sometimes literally), then I'm done.

Time for rest; I have huge plans for these next few months.

I am worse than evil-I feel nothing.

I am the apex predator.