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I can't change that my mother, father, and grandmother (dad's side) all enabled me to possess a large collection of deadly weapons at a young age, which fueled my fascination for them. I remember being in the weapon store in Estes Park on two distinct occasions. First, when I was 6-years-old and my mother facilitated me buying my first double-sided dagger, which I carried around with me all the time outside of school in the belt sheath. Second, my grandmother bought me a fletch (a wooden rod with a ~8 inch chain attached to a spiked lead ball). I didn't request American culture raising me up watching Arnold blow away mobs of baddies, staying up all night mowing people down in Counter-Strike, and being hailed for my exceptional levels of brutality on the lacrosse field by my peers. I am a product of my environment and my genes. Seeing as how my genes were handed to me from a psychopathic alcoholic father's side of the family and a anxiety-ridden pill-popping mom's side, you get the picture. Add to this setup seeing my father strike my mother at age 2 and still having that image seared into my brain, an image I can still recall with great clarity. Then add in having full reign control of my mother until she finally met her current husband (a military man who taught me discipline) when I was about 8. Wa'Lah, you've just created me. If you think it's funny that I am a violent person as a result, well you're just a douche bag. If Ted Bundy was right in his hypothesis, I very well may become a homicidal sadistic rapist one day. I am only interested in violent sex due to my early-teen recon missions on www.bdsmvideos.net. I remember my first encounter with bdsm, a KoRn CD case that had a small picture of a girl wearing a red ball gag. I must have came to that thing 100 times. Then I found out it was called a "ball gag", googled it, and it was all down hill from there. I still get off to that same site. I would call it a necessary part of my sexuality at this point. These things were all ingrained into me before I truly understood the long-term effects. I didn't think being a sexual sadist would limit my selections of mates so greatly, some girls I've fucked have literally came back the next day and said, "look at these fucking bruises on me you psycho", to which I replied, "I thought you liked it". Needless to say, I never fucked either of those two girls again. It is of worth to note though that I do believe the perfect couple to be that of the sadist and masochist. It is so symbiotic and flawless. Such a perfect fit. I know one day I will find 'her'. Most girls like that seem to be rather whorish, once I have some money I could let one or more move into my house and for my evening recreational activity, well you get the picture. You see, the general society member does not have any interest in discussing the things I'd like to discuss. This means that every interaction I have with said general members is a fake one. One that I create and falsify in order to make them feel at ease. Your basic civilian likes to talk about sports, family, work, religion, nothing that I have any interest in talking about whatsoever. Things such as theoretical physics, nihilism, weapons, BDSM, homicide, drugs, and violence, well... they really put people off. Even hearing just one story about some 'psycho' thing you've done in the past will usually be enough for a person to banish you from their inner circle. It's just not worth it. With the sheer number of sheeple in all directions at all times, why bother dealing with a potential threat? Sure, he may say interesting things here and there, he'll make you laugh with his absurd comments, he might even be a great asset due to his advanced knowledge of a broad range of topics. Maybe he could fix your computer or TV, but... nahh... I'm not going to call that weirdo. Let psycho boy go hang out with some other psycho fucks and exchange stories about how to most sadistically torture captive girls and tactics on how to most effectively rampage a crowded location. Let psycho boy go play his computer games and get his minuscule doses of socialization electronically. Watch psycho boy treat his cat like a human being in some pathetic attempt at having a companion that will put up with his bullshit. Communication on a strictly physical level leaves no room for manipulation and lies. Let's switch gears. What are my options to regain my social network? The stigma-damage is done. The rumors are abundant. I remember back when I had a myspace, I noticed this girl I went to high school with had a baby. I sent her a message along the lines of, "Congratulations! Wow, I can't believe you have a baby, how is that going? Hope all is well,". We exchanged a few messages, then she hit me with this bomb, "So, how is that whole attempted... you know... thing going?", to which I replied, "What?". She said, "Didn't you get charged with attempted murder?" How ridiculous, that has never happened. I told my ex over-the-phone that it might happen. That was due to what I had said when I got surrounded by police and taken down at gunpoint, with loaded weapons in my front seat, outside of her house; less than an hour after discovering she was having sex with a friend. It never came to be. I simply asked her if that did show up if she would testify against it and she said yes. Now, this girl who asked me how 'it' went... I'd say she's about 5 people away minimum from my ex socially. That means roughly a minimum of 25 people think I am an attempted murderer. It's probably a higher number, anyway, how do you think that impacts my decision-making when I look through my cell phone at potential old friendships I could rekindle? That is just one tiny piece of shit that I have to consider. Do you know how fucking hard it is to go through life with no friends? No one to talk to on a daily basis? No one to go hangout with on Friday nights. I am absolutely alone on this cold rock floating through space. My own family isn't even aligned. Today at Thanksgiving there was about 13 people besides me all engaged in 'grace' before dinner. They all did the holy cross routine with their hands at the start and all seemed to say the prayer in unison, which was then followed with another cross. What a dunce I was. Ha hah ha... look at the atheist douche. I nearly got up and left right there. The rest of dinner was absolutely unbearable. I listened to two people discuss the danger of flying on planes, only to hear them come to a consensus that, "There is no need to be afraid of planes, God has a plan for us all, and if crashing is a part of the plan, we can't really interfere with that." You know what motherfuckers, Santa Claus was really god-damn effective when I was growing up for a year-or-two, but then one night when I was 5 I peeked down the stairs and saw my mother putting the presents under the tree, and have never believed in it since. Fairy tales are for young children, not adults. I never understood going to church when i was a toddler, because I didn't like to sing. I thought people went there to hold hands and sing. This was when "the resistance" began. Soon thereafter I would first state to my mother, "I don't want to go, I don't believe in God". It took a long line of repetition for my mother to accept this fact. I never saw any evidence of the invisible man in the sky that controls everything. I remember being about 8-years-old and pleading with God to prove himself to me. "Just move that pencil 1 inch and I will never question you again, I will devote myself to you forever." Needless to say, he never did. I questioned God, "why have you made me a non-believer? What twisted motivation have you for denying me access to faith"? I knew that faithful people led easier lives. I knew having heaven to look forward to would make everything easy-mode and that it would enable me to face anything without fear and provide logical explanation for being good at all times. I knew these things and wondered why God would forsake me to wander the earth on a strictly physical level with no spiritual backing. Later in life I would try again and again. Prove yourself to me. I need your aid. Please help me. Please show me the light. After awhile I began trying a different tactic. I began attempting to invoke God to smite me down. "Fuck you God, you fucking pussy. If you don't prove yourself to me, I'm going to fucking kill myself." 'fuckgod' was my login password for awhile. I went through a phase of outright rebellion against God, trying to push his buttons per se. I see many people trapped in this phase, constantly mocking believers and trying to push atheist propaganda. I have entered a new phase as of a few months ago, where I simply do not care. I think it is just as foolish to call a believer an idiot as it is for a believer to call a non-believer evil. Why spend energy trying to persuade believers into atheism? Let them enjoy their purpose-driven lives. Let them say their prayers and visit their churches. Your ridicule is just as futile as them clinging onto God for support. If I personally had a choice, all human beings would be believers. I'm not saying it would solve all wars and create a sanctimonious environment for everyone, but I will say that if all humans were atheists it would be completely devoid of any universal sense of purpose. Let's think about an absolutely physical outlook with no spiritual side: In just 10,000 years or .0000000017% of the calculated age of the earth, nothing you or me do will have any meaningful impact whatsoever. Think about that. .0000000017% of the age of the earth is enough time for you to be completely meaningless to the universe. Did you know that all elements above iron on the periodic table can only be formed in supernovae? Since the earth contains these heavier elements, we know the earth was formed from the matter ejected when a star exploded and decimated a very large region of space. That means that at one point the earth was just a small part of a random part of a super-large matter cloud. Now, take that .0000000017% and then think about how old the universe really is. Suddenly, the total time required for your existence to become absolutely meaningless becomes something more like .00000000000000000001% of the current age of the universe. Example: -------------------------------------------------------- You could get up right now, travel to the nearest gun store, buy a gun and some ammo, and then walk to the middle of the busiest location you know and blow your own head off. Alternatively, you could get up right now and call every single person you know and give them a sincere compliment, then you could clean up your entire living space and work out. Either of these decisions in the long-run are equivocal. -------------------------------------------------------- It bothers me to think about all the effort I am going to have to unleash to conquer my courses over the next few years. It bothers me to think about the raw energy input that will be needed to get through grad school with high marks. It bothers me to ponder how many internships and 'entry-level' geology jobs I'll endure before I actually get a good job. It bothers me to think about being 35 and finally have a good job, my own house, and all the modern-day essential accessories that come with it. It bothers me to think I will one day be married and most liking produce offspring. All of these things bother me: Impending death, old age and becoming decryptified, losing my kid or wife in a car wreck, seeing a friend suffer a cancerous death, etc. Why should I get up everyday and enable this massive energy conversion from food into effort when there is such terrible things in store in the future? Why should I attempt to get a good job just to get money just to blah blah blah blah, when in a number of years, Andromeda is going to crash into the Milky Way, annihilating the planet and all life contained therein? Why should I try to make the earth a better place when the sun is going to expand and incinerated it? Why should I do anything? Why shouldn't I just put a gun to my head right now and paint the fucking walls. I could hold up a fucking stencil cut-out behind my head with the phrase "FUCK GOD" written on it and use brain matter as paint, but I won't. I already have done this in a way: Remember when I was listening to The Great Below, God? Remember when I was sitting in this exact location I am right now, with a 7.62x39 rifle aimed at my hypothalamus? Remember how I pulled the trigger in my fit of tears only to hear a click with no boom? A dud bullet, the most intensive depression treatment I have ever sufficed to. Suddenly, I realized that I must be here for some reason. The only explanation I could/can muster is divine intervention. Something... Somewhere... doesn't want me to die yet. Whether it be a shitty line-worker in a bullet factory in Russia or a flying spaghetti monster, doesn't matter; I know that killing myself is not the answer to, "why try"? Perhaps I need to change gears. There are other endeavors which I have not explored. Before offing myself, why don't I try a few? -Going and taking jujitsu lessons -Riding my bike to the library weekly and absorbing positive content -Ridding myself of computer games -Taking walks around the neighborhood -Going on hikes -Calling up those old friends and not considering the negatives -How about thinking positively? There are so many positive things in this world. So many traits among all humans that bind us together. So much beauty in nature. The teamwork between flora and fauna is a wonderful thing to ponder. There is so much perfection and serenity to be observed, it would take many lifetimes. You must find a way to see the beauty not the ugliness. You are not bound to a fate of being violent your entire life. You need a lot of work. You have a moral debt that is so vast it seems unimaginable to undo, but it can be done. It will be done. Fix yourself.