Rant: The Torturous Tortuga

I am a very sick man. I don't know exactly how, I have a pretty good idea, but that changes nothing. Even knowing what is wrong with me does not matter, I am incurable, incorrigible and twisted. Their is just a piece of my brain missing. I don't miss it but I know it is gone. Pain, now that is an interesting one. I don't feel it in the sense that the Goth's claim to have and the Depressed whine about. I cause quite a bit of it myself. And in turn everyone else responds in kind. That is when I start feeling pain. I am a captive of my self, my own worst enemy. It is horrible being me, but I could never live as anyone else. I love being who and how I am. But it comes at a great price. And I am always paying for something. I have considered suicide in the past, not because of sadness or because I am suicidal, but because life seems, just so boring. And I see no end in sight. An impulse not something I see as a solution. I don't want to die, but I certainly am not satisfied with life. I remember getting into a bind a while back. I was taken to the police station. I was not charged but I had a very long conversation with a Senior Officer. He said things to me I knew were true but could not be changed. He said, "It is going to end up very bad for you. It will end very badly. You don't seem like you care one way or another if it does, but it will" Of course he also thought that I would make an excellent police officer myself. I probably would. But that has too much restriction for my tastes. It is truly unpalatable. I have the mind of a criminal, the worst (or to me, best) of the lot. I see the way the people around me think of me. They know something is wrong.