Knives

Are my favorite toys. So slick and smooth. Cold and dangerous. Like me, but inanimate. A knife could slowly caress you one moment, and savagely pierce your chest in another. It's fascinating. I believe a person's favorite object can tell you many things about them. It can give you an unprecedented glimpse into the true mind of a human being.

The problem with people though, is they lie. We all lie. The only variation is that some of us lie better than others. We lie for different reasons-some with logic, others with emotion. It is hard to claim an identity as a Sociopath. I am, whoever I need to be, to accomplish a set goal. That is it. I know it is somewhat confusing because it confuses me as well. When the masks are tossed aside, who am I?

Contrary to how it may sound, It's really not important to me to know but still- I am curious. Empaths seem so caught up in being a 'unique' individual. They want a sole identity for themselves, not realizing their social significance in society is in reality, completely insignificant on a grander scale. Life as a whole is inherently meaningless, despite what Empaths delusionally wish to believe.

It makes me wonder. Do Normals look at themselves in the mirror and see something distinct? Do they gaze into their own eyes and know exactly who they are looking at? I look in the mirror every morning and see my reflection. No sentimental hogwash or feelings of any sort cross my mind. I brush my teeth, comment on my sustained attractiveness and take a piss. It is hard to imagine life with so much intense emotion clogging up everything you do. An emotional heart attack waiting to happen. Perhaps I have Diabetes of the soul.

The only thing 'special' about me is my ability to blend in in any situation. That doesn't mean I always choose to do so; not even close. As much as I hate other people, my whole life revolves around them. Reading them, studying their habits, determining the best way to guide them in the direction I choose-these are the activities that make up my entire day.

Controlling people is the only thing that gets me up in the morning. Everything I do is moulded around that goal. My choice of career, friends, activities- everything. I do not believe it is because I am somehow 'evil' because there is no such thing as good or evil. It just so happens that Control brings me pleasure and enjoyment. What other motivator could there be to do something?

Another thing I enjoy is pain; giving and receiving. I enjoy stealing and I enjoy talking about myself (obviously). As you may have noticed the list of things that bring me even mild enjoyment is very short. The things that irritate me or invoke my rage however, are endless. I have no hobbies, have no fondness for much of anything and that includes both objects and people. I am easily bored but by now am used to it. OH! And I've been contemplating slaughtering the family dog for months now. Not because I dislike it- I actually am somewhat fond of the little thing. I'll let you brainstorm the reason why.