The Journal of a Killer

You see,most of them were delusional. Thinking no harm can be done to them because of their status or because they had money,all of that is irrelevant within those four walls, I am the one who decides their present and future well being, it is quite the thrilling feeling when they realize they have no power over their life,whilst I am the one who can take it away in mere minutes. Ever since ive began my work,I have realized how fragile humans truly are. They act as if they are untouchable when they feel safe, extending themselves to anyone and everyone without a second thought of who that person they are choosing to trust might be behind closed doors. They take their life for granted and what truly disgusts me, is their habit of lying to get out of situations, be it at school, work, home. Lies make my blood boil, I cannot stomach them, many have tried to help me but none actually succeeded. I have given up when it comes for searching for help from those who do not understand how ones mind works, they pretend to be on a high pedestal, looking down upon those who are deemed ''insane'', '' unstable'', but fail too see the scum that they are. Counting down the bodies I have disposed of, I had washed my hands of their blood, I feel no remorse for my deeds, as it is not my hands who are dirtied with the lost lives of the ones I had killed, ask yourself who's fault it truly is, who am I doing this for?
It does not give me any pleasure to behave like a feral animal, as I do not see myself as one, I simply do what needs to be done for my masterpiece of be finished. So I can finally get the answers I had longed for my entire life.
Until then, I will not stop. The count doesn't matter, what matters is the finished product.