Tears have carved paths through the grime on my face. I know now that it was wrong, and
I regret each moment of the act. My contrition is complete. I debase myself before the world
and beg not forgiveness, but judgement.
I watched many movies, but none of them fulfilled in the end. Vicarious predation was
fine for awhile, but in the end it was always a stranger's hand holding the knife. I felt
the response lift within me set to music; thrashing, grinding, metallic and full of purpose and
adrenalin drive. My life was never that passionate. I lusted for power and intent ... a raw
expression of destructive denial. If I could be celluloid reflections of a writer's dreamt violence.
I really need love. From you. I just killed some people.
for effect and fiction...don't pick up that phone.
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