Strange

I remember the song by "The Doors" called: People are Strange. They really are. People are strange

The Scorpion and the Toad

A recurrent theme I have noticed throughout my entire life regardless of the deed done or not done, the mask worn or not worn, the love shown or the love unrequited, it has always come to a final reduction. If the principle of reductio ad absurdum is applied to any facet of my life you reach the same conclusion, or rather question that you always get from me. Why? Why are you like this, why are you so detached, why are you so cold? Why are you so cruel, why don't you care for anything or anyone. Why can't you take life seriously. Why dear, oh please tell me, why? I just am. It is who I am and just because there is a way that things ought to be does not mean that they will be that way. Just because morality is a la mode does not mean I am moral. And I will never change. If you expected a more satisfying resolve, then it is your fault for believing that your influence could have ever changed my nature. I am not evil, I am the most neutral and indifferent. I am an empty man. I am a callous man. I am a hollow man. It is in my nature to be.

Miscellaneous

I have no idea what I am doing by typing this sequence of language right now. I think I am just watching my fingers type as I enter and repeat so many of the nearly identical key strokes. I would say I am typing at about the same rate I am thinking, or rather not the rate, but am typing as I think and nothing more than what I am thinking currently. As of now I am focused on this keyboard. I am the only Psychopath I know for sure in my life and am probably one with a genius IQ. As in actually in that range of IQ mine has ranged between 128 to 147. 147 is definitely genius level. But as far as devotion goes, I am an under achiever. I am the most uncommitted, irresponsible, apathetic person I know. Nothing perturbs my heart. Nothing can. I put no emotional investment into grades or anything of the sort. I have no earthly aspirations, not desires. I have no life plan. There are things I want to do, and certainly am capable of doing, but these are no more than a hippies pipe dreams because of my unprecedented traits of detachment from responsibility. It is interesting. People have told me throughout my entire life that I am by far the most intelligent person they had ever met. I brushed those statements off as the feeble minded compliments you get from stupid people. I never really cared. They asked why my grades are so poor, why I had no mates, why I was so detached, and I truly didn't know. In fact I still don't. Nothing matters. If it weren't for the fact that I have no wish to die I would commit suicide because life is just so boring. Nothing seems to satisfy. This is not depression, it is hard to explain. It is as if I am too enlightened for my own good. As if I reached a point of knowing that life is not going to get any better ever and the most logical thing any person could ever do is kill themselves. I would be the type to kill myself just because of how rational it seems. I am a blase apathetic creature with not a care in the world. I love one person but even my care for that person would not be enough to keep me from doing anything that affected them or at least had the potential to. I am curious as to what is wrong. Why is it nothing matters. I have left behind many friends before in my life. In the space of a day, I abandoned everyone. Every aspect of my life is a lie, It is weird. I have a true me and a false me. The true me is boring uninteresting, cold detached evil bastard. The false self I have is everything you want it to be, emotional supportive, interesting, and charming. I go between many false selves to even my true self. It is like carrying around a bag of masks and putting on the one best suited for your current situation. I have a bag with an infinite amount of space and an infinite amount of masks though. I wear them because the true me is too terrifying for normal people. I cannot be myself. I don't feel the need to be either. I am not a young teenage rebel with a need for a sense of identity. I am an empty with no identity. The only identity I have is the one I fake. I suppose this is a tragedy to normal people. I try and try to get what I want by any means necessary. I loathe boredom. I detest it. In fact, all my life is spent trying to avoid being bored. To get sex, drugs and entertainment. I have not lived life for anything. Not ever. It is truly a little boring piece of the universe. I wonder how others are not as empty as I am. I enjoy things that are wrong to others. I am living a damned life. I hate everyone, as individuals and as part of humanity. I despise all happiness, and enjoy all suffering. I hate my own family. I hate them so, they are weak minded wastes of vessels. They do not deserve to go on living. I wish I was not so prone to boredom. I would end them myself if I it wasn't something that would get me stuck in a room for the rest of my life being bored. Maybe I lied when I said I don't care about anything. What I meant was, I don't care about anything but myself. And even when it comes to myself, I don't care enough. Hatred, bitter resentment, of a nature so vicious and cruel, so malevolent and rancorous, so spiteful and brutal, that none could understand. Being around people is just a pain. They are the root of all suffering. I wonder sometimes if being so intelligent is a problem. I think my mind may just be so different from the rest of the worlds. At a young age I realized I could not be taught anything. I had to teach myself. It didn't work any other way. I could teach myself a weeks worth of school materials in ten minutes, but only if I was in control. Not subject to the scrutiny and haphazard pace of the general student body. My grades in secondary certainly didn't reflect my immense learning capabilities. I need to find something to do.

Madame Malevolence, The Saga Continues.

It is an odd feeling, being a Sociopath. Being a Psychopath. To be rationally insane. To be an oxymoron, an walking antithesis. I think the oddest of my feelings is love. And my marked lack of it. But for this one person, every atom in my body rattles out of place. They vibrate as if they are about to become a volatile combustion. I see every possible paradigm, every possible contingency that could become of her and I and I know, that not all are happy endings. It could be said that to make a sociopath love would make them more dangerous. Imagine the amount of investment they have in themselves, and imagine what could happen if they were that invested in anything else. They would be twice as cruel as before. I can honestly say that if ever another came between us, I would swiftly show them the way to dusty death. I would murder one million people that did not deserve to die, as retribution for the acts of one misled soul who felt the need to interfere. That is no overstatement, nor hyperbole, it is truth. I have no scruples for it. I fantasize of a life with just that person, My Madame Malevolence. I know inside she is not mine. I want her to be a free spirit, but I do not want her to abandon me. I think that is the one thing I fear. Losing the one person I have learned to care for so fully. She spends hours upon hours in my mind. She is all that activates my Nucleus Accumbens anymore. She is all that is inside of my Cerebral Cortex. I am sick, so very sick. Ill, beyond reproach. I can't care for anyone else. I was born evil. I will remain evil. My love for her is aberrant behaviour. I know this, I have been presented with many opportunities to love. None have ever been requited. I care for none else. Not my mother, not my father. Not my sisters or brothers. Many times came when I wanted to murder them in fact. I would relish the chance to. But not this one flawed spirit that I came across. The one person I truly love. The one who managed to bypass all of the hate. Madame Malevolence, do not leave. Ich liebe dich. Dich sind mein ein wahr liebe. Ich werden liebe dich fur alle mein leben. Ich werden nicht sterben. Ich liebe Madam Boswilligkeit. Kyria Kakovoulia. Madame Malevolence. I know I can't change my ways. And I honestly don't want to.

I see you.

Why do I attract people from Samara, Russia. I may never know. If someone knows, don't be a cunt; reply.

Madame Malevolence

I do not think I should be typing this. I'm not sure she would approve. But her name won't be used in this, I've given her the lovely pseudonym that happens to be the title of this post. If she did read this she would know exactly whose typing because I refer to her as this. But as far as I know she has never told anybody about this title I have given her. I don't want to draw any attention to her. But I digress. Love... Liebe, Amour, Agapi, Elske. I have it for no one, except her. Not because of her gender, not because of anything that could be considered tangible. It is not the corporeal, it is the ethereal that attracts me. My concupiscent drive is as impersonal as it gets, it is not what drives me towards her. She is of a kindred nature to me. A kindred spirit. I am markedly incapable of mustering feelings for anyone else. Not my mother or Father. None of my 4 siblings. I see emotion as irrelevant and yet feel it for her. She could have been a male and I would feel exactly the same. I cannot tell anyone on earth the things that inhabit the abyss I call my mind. The void where my heart is supposed to be. Or if you wish for a more accurate noun, My prefrontal cortex and amygdala. I tell her absolutely everything. I have shared my exploits and my urges. My thoughts and wishes, dreams and desires. She remains unperturbed. She feels the same to me as I do to her. At least I hope. It cannot be proven and I am hearing only what she allows me to so I could not verify her statements. But even though that is true I do not care. If she tried to murder me I would not care. I know I make myself vulnerable and weak by feeling this way. It is a disadvantage. But it is impossible to change now. It could be said that I am in a narcissistic codependency with her. I hope it is more than that. I have never met her in person. I met her through Omegle one day because I was trying to quell my insatiate boredom. I met her June 13, 2014. At 2:00 AM. It turned out to be very interesting and exists still. The affinity. I fear that a horrid end is in store though. That is how all things end for me. I have never ended on good terms with anyone, paramour or friend. It is just inductive reasoning for me. Maybe I don't love her. Maybe it is just a delusion. Perhaps I am lying to her. If the affinity is in fact a narcissistic codependency I very well may just be siphoning narcissistic supply from her. I do not wish to ever lose her though. I invest quite a bit of feeling, strike that, all my feelings into this affinity. I have had "friendships" in the past. When I ended them I was as cruel as possible to my friends. I get easily frustrated when I do not get what I want. If I do not get what I want from a friend I cruelly end the friendship just to entertain me. I am always bored and always looking for a way not to be bored. I hope I am not self decieving. I care too much for Madame Malevolence. I wonder if you will ever read this. That would be the catalyst for an interesting conversation.

Socialization

I am poor at socialization. Have you heard the stories of politicians in America, the hypocrites. They lobby for things and act like they care to help a cause. They claim it is because it is the right thing. Like the gun lobbiests. But they are truly indifferent to the actual cause. They are interested in the money to be gained. They are only motivated by self interest. That is me. Inside I am truly incapable of having friends. I care for no one, and am uninterested with making friends. If I am friends with you it is because I am bored and am looking for something to do. Or I am using you for sex. I have never dated anyone in my life. I don't feel the urge to sate some petty emotional need. Intimacy to me is just sex. And if you cannot provide me with what I desire then we have nothing to talk about. All are objects in my world. I, like the politicians, would organize a protest to buy guns. And stay at home while everyone went out buying them. Because that's right sweetheart, I have an investment in stocks of smith and Wesson. You are nothing to me except a tool. Of course people take offense if you were ever to be so blunt. You must disguise yourself to get what you want. Humans are so hopelessly incapable of logical reasoning. They make almost all decisions on an emotional basis. And I unfortunately have to fiegn all the disgusting emotion you want to get what I want. The female sets herself up to be exploited. They want someone to care for them. They look for the perfect man. And that's me, until I get bored with you I am your man. Your a liberterian, me too. You like X Factor so do I. And when it ends, you will find out I don't vote or watch telly. You should have taken the man who told you he wanted to fuck your brains out. I am so malevolent with my end of relationships. Friends or friends with benefits. When I don't need them I am so cruel when I tell them. I try to hurt them as much as I can. Unless it is unwise to be. My family was so concerned with my happiness. They said that's all that matters to them. How do you tell them it is impossible for you to be happy. That you are never satisfied. I suppose this has evolved beyond a diary, so give feedback. How fucked up do I sound.

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.

Day 16 5th Writing - Power

It is something everyone seeks, afflicted or healthy, and humans as well as the "inhuman" have proved willing to do anything in its pursuit. Macbeth was a great example of the theme that permeates every membrane of human interaction and organizations. Not to mention the ethnocentric social groups of humans: Power Corrupts. However it is not true that all in positions of power were corrupted. Some were born corrupted or even disturbed before they began seeking power. Such people have inherent advantages for the task. Macbeth was one of the morally superior before he began his conquest and killed his soul. He was not naturally gifted. But he died with a mind akin to an evil man. What brings us most power though. This is a principle I hold close to the void where my heart should be: Knowledge gives you power over the unknowledgeable. Do not indulge in the useless motivational suggestions your parents and teachers gave you in your youth. When they said," You can do anything you want. Just apply yourself and get the proper marks and everything will be fine." No kiddies it won't. Grades are indicative of nothing more than temporary dedication. One short lived passion after another that quickly eclipses its former. Remember this for the exam and once you get the grade forget it so you can make space for the next barrage of information. Keep your notes for the midterm and final exams. This method of education is not useful. True mental work is all that is needed. Work on your own and commit the knowledge to the mind. Information you find useful in your pursuit of power. This learning method is good at educating you but it will not get you any certifications which are all that matter to anyone. People want something to show for themselves yet are not satisfied with just knowing themselves. How many truly smart people have you met in college and not just people who chased the grades. There are many stupid people to outsmart.

Day 14 4th Writing - Drug Use

I indulge from time to time in the use of chemical substances foreign to the human body. They vary but the one I use most is alcohol. It is of course logical to assume it would be most used by anyone as it is the most readily available. C2H6O is also quite legal. But it is not the only one I use. Alcohol is a hedonists pleasure of course, it mixes total apathy with dulled physical sensation, uninhibition, and best of all concupiscence. But I know that this, like all drugs, must be used at a moderate frequency with significant inervals between its uses. Lest you become numb to its charms. That and its rather high potential for physical dependence. Coitus is another. Most would consider sex an act or a symptom of Love. To me, however, sex is just one of several drugs to stimulate the mind and bring about my pleasure. I will say I am not averse to Nymphomania, or hypersexuality or whatever it is being called now, but I do not see any negative results except for Paternity and Venereal Disease if you are careless enough to go unprotected. My favourite is C20H25N3O. Lysergide. Lysergic Acid Diethylamide. LSD for laypersons. It was the first I ever indulged in. For most their first was Cannabis, but not me. Maybe it was because part of my ASBO's conditions were infrequent 8 panel urinalyses. They tested for these [THC MDMA Opiates Benzodiazepenes Amphetamines Methamphetamines Oxycontin and Cocaine] But not any Psychadelics. And LSD was first to come to mind. It was not a drug used for recreation. It was for a Psychonautical expedition of my disheveled mind. I was analysing myself. Most are not capable or interested in introspection but I had to know. The experience did not change me it only educated me. But I couldn'r argue. For £12 I could get a powerful dose from one of my mates. Drugs are very good things. If you remain cautious in their use and take care not to become an addict then you can live a life with them. I dount many of you can.

Day 4 Writing 3 - What's wrong with you?

"What's wrong with you?" A popular question among the people that surround me. I see nothing wrong with myself. I see only things wrong with you. I know the traits I possess that people see fault in, I just don't see fault in them myself. There are many to name. I take things without asking and prefer not to ask. It seems a waste of time to me. I lie quite a bit. I have no trust for almost anyone and would rather tell an elaborate lie than the truth even if it is easier to. I only trust and feel safe confiding in one person. I am paranoid. I may not feel the anxiety associated with it as much, but I still do not trust. I have only recently noticed how little I feel for others. I am truly a callous hedonist. I keep friends around purely for the ability to extract some form of pleasure from them. If I had an infinite supply of LSD and other psychadelics, I would stay away from the rest of the world and indulge in the lysergic potion. I only go out because it is essential for getting what you want in this world. I am cynical and misanthropic. Not in any way other than that I see humans as disgusting unintelligent vermin. I feel as if I am above them. A particular event occured when I was 16. I woke up one day and my grandfather said he called 999 because he thought he was having a heart attack. My exact thought process at that moment was as follows: "Big deal. It is about time that old bastard expires." And then I went back to sleep. I never cared or worried. I slept through the ambulance coming to the house and the paramedics taking him out on a gurney. even when the Myocardial Infarction was confirmed I wanted nothing more than for him to die so I could go home. I never went to see him while he was in the hospital after that. I was disappointed when I was told he survived. I still think I am perfectly healthy and see nothing wrong. I only know I am wrong because wrong is so well defined. One can understand how others may take offense. My personality has proven quite abrasive. I feel empty. Not that I am seeking to feel much but I know I am missing a part of the soul integral to interpersonal connection. I hate this because it is always getting me in trouble. I wonder if I am perfectly normal and everyone else is insane. Madmen are those who forsake logic and rationality for things as petty as emotions. Show me a man who is screwing over others to get ahead and I'll show you a winner. Why would a sane man act towards his own detrament for another? He gains nothing yet he calls himself sane. Acting in least rational manner. Maybe they are not for me to understand.

Day 2 Second Writing - Meaning of Life

People like to say that their life has some purpose. That life in general has purpose. Life is like currency; The value is decided by those who use it. It is only worth as much as you declare it is. The value of such things is a man-made construct. I see no meaning in life. I am not depressed, I just know that all things eventually end. And once you die it is not as if you will remember life. I live as pleasantly as I possibly can. I seek only pleasure in the purest forms it can be found in. I am a hedonist. As are all others. They may not truly believe such a statement but all anyone seeks is pleasure. The means by which people achieve it vary, but the outcome is always the same. Humans like to judge you by what you derive pleasure from. People who get theirs from helping others and doing nice things are said to be morally good. While those who enjoy violence, manipulating others, or using drugs are said to be immoral or evil. Humans cannot understand that their means are incidental. They are decided by the individual's personality, one of the things no one has any control over. Saying they do is tantamount to saying they can control how attractive or intelligent they are. Therefore it must be said that all are hedonistic. For none can control what brings them pleasure. The depressed masochist sitting on a toilet cutting themselves is still trying to bring pleasure to themselves. They simply derive it from something eccentric. If cutting themselves brought no feelings of pleasure, they would not be doing it. I take pleasure from few things: Being cruel; physically or emotionally, Being plenipotentiary to others, Outwitting and decieving, breaking the law, and possessing an affinity with a certain person. I know that all of these things, except perhaps the last, mean nothing. I am an atheist, but I agreed with the bible when it said,"All is vanity." Nothing is ever permenant. Life is meaningless unless you make it meaningful. But most cannot get it, and will never know how to. And most lack the stomach to pursue it. Not everyone gets to be happy.

Day 1 First Writing

"I was sick, sick unto Death..."
What am I doing? Will anyone even read this? It is, I suppose, irrelevant. This blog shall serve as a virtual diary. I can't risk these words being found by committing them to paper. I have made that mistake two times, too many. Both times I recieved unwanted attention. And criminal charges. My mind is a scary place for the weak. I remember hearing these words exactly from a concerned party. "What you wrote on those papers gave us a look into your mind and it is disturbing." I am an introvert. Though capable of great and successful extroversion. If I see something to be gained from it. But I generally don't. My mind needs constant stimulation. If not by drugs or sex, then by writing this. Unfortunately, to get drugs and sex, you need to know the right people and be their friend. Few people exist who would call me their friend. Fewer, still, that I call mine. These blogs will probably sound similar to the statements of a suicidal bloke, or a rampage killer. Furchtet euch, nicht. I would not do something so dramatic. Words like these are everyday statements. I am as venerable as a 90 year old monk. I am, however, only a young man. Not even 20 yet. A lengthy digression I shall conclude. I am not insane. Not a la mode at least. I am extremely intelligent and rational. My mind does lack certain emotional faculties. I never get sad or anxious except from one thing, and I rarely get happy. I don't feel guilt, empathy or compassion. I am callous. I will eventually share a story with you to give background, but not until I move beyond this introduction. I care for none except one, and even I am not sure if it will last or is genuine. I hope it is. If not, then I am truly sorry Madame Malevolence.  I was first called Sociopath at age 12. By my own mother no less. I looked it up and the amount of shared traits is scary. Every one. I honestly don't know the difference between that and Psychopath. Perhaps they are just euphamisms. That is the only time I will reference either of the words or disorder in that manner. This is about me not mental illness. I have never lived with anyone who I did not want to kill. I can idley shift to thinking about it, or even escalate to planning it. If someone tries setting up boundaries or making rules that in any way restrict me. A furious state of ire and hatred emerge. How dare someone so pathetic attempt to limit me. And I begin to think of the most evil thoughts that could ever be concieved. I suppose it goes without saying I enjoy cruelty. I hate authority. I can put myself in a submissive soldier-like state where I focus on doing nothing but what I am told, but if orders were given that conflicted with my pleasure, I would be as previously stated. I would make them angry or sad and enjoy it. I like anger more than sadness; There is more energy in it. It is more fun and exciting. I view myself as different from most people. While I enjoy not being a pathetic human, being what I am brings me no happiness. I am just as much a victim to myself as my actual victims. I am a victim to the reprisal for the pain I caused. And even if I knew reprisal was guarunteed, I wouldn't alter course. So there you have it: me in a nutshell. I will put more on this in the future so you perverts can masturbate to my posts or do whatever people who waste time reading other people's blogs do. Auf wiedersehn scheissekopfs.