Psychopath.

Okay, so I've been horribly neglectful- selfish even, in my lack of regular posting this past month. For that I oh so humbly apologize. Sometimes life is an overbearing pimp--greedy and brutal. I don't want it to be, believe me. I'd prefer a much simpler, easier life, where I could lounge about and live prosperous on the backs of the unlucky fuckers beneath me. Unfortunately, that was not to be, at least yet.

I've lost all interest in my current situation, to the point of recklessness. Boredom is an unfortunate side effect of apathy. I know it seems all fun and games but really all it does is give me more work. Think of it like breathing. Right now you are breathing and most likely have no conscious thought of doing so. Imagine having to breathe manually. There are benefits- no panic attacks no hyperventilation, an immunity to the hysteria brought on by strangulation, BUT, you are forever burdened with the constant knowledge of your difference from others. You watch, disgustedly-some might say envyingly, at the Normals as they breathe merrily away, carefree in the knowledge that their subconscious will do the work for them. There are two sides to every coin.

Lately some of my compatriots have taken to calling me Psychopath (hence the title). Of course their use is completely inaccurate and supposedly innocent it does raise questions to the paranoid mind. I am a very paranoid person, it comes with the territory. Society seems to frown on the Perpetually Suspicious, but let me tell you, when your whole life, the very fabric of your 'being' is a lie, you have much to be suspicious of. Every prolonged look is a highly trained PI, every snapped twig a psychiatrist with Straight Jacket in tow. You can never be too careful-that's one cliche I can merrily abide.

"Paranoia is just another word for longevity"- Laurell K. Hamilton