Diary of a Misanthrope vol. 1

Today I came in contact with a female of a higher social class when playing soccer in Phys Ed. We both ran for the ball and our arms rubbed together. The feel of her skin was incredible, suddenly my mind filled with lustful thoughts. Erotica plagued my mind, but then I remembered who she was, not necessarily her personally, but what she represented, then all I could think about was how much I'd like to take a knife and mutilate her supple body. Could I muster up the courage to do so? There's only one way to find out.

Sometimes I feel I could massacre a whole horde of people. I'd plead guilty and go to jail smiling. I'm not going to a fucking mental institution. In prison I'd meet new people, all kinds of interesting people; I'd hear lots of messed-up stories about their convictions and their lives. It's like an archive of inspiration, stories waiting to be told.

Why wouldn't you go to jail? Free board, free food, of course you'd have to establish you as a dominant force, or just not speak. You don't want to get passed around the showers like a bottle of whiskey. It would give me time to think, I'd get healthier that's another thing, and all the working class have to pay for me to stay.

But as I sit here typing away at my laptop I think to myself, what would I be doing if I didn't have the friends I do. Would I go insane? Would I take a gun and plough bullets in every motherfucker at my school? Maybe I'm really not that cold, but at times I feel I could end someone's life. Am I just being dramatic? Maybe it's a good thing I vent like this, so I don't turn into another Biography channel serial killer documentary. I mean the exposure would be great, but my family and friends don't need that.

Every time I think of leaving my friends and family, and what it would be like to be alone forever, my mood suddenly stoops lower than what seems like the terra firma beneath my feet. I need my friends and family to keep me going. I have to them in my life because of how much I value them. They're something I can only hope never leaves me, no matter what choices I make in life.

What choices would I make in life that would make them think any different of me? I don't have very outlandish views. Except maybe on the whole bisexual thing, that's more curiosity than anything. I do feel that I should keep my views and beliefs to myself to keep from hurting those around me.

I have a girlfriend now, and at times I am happier than ever, but other times I just want to die. It seems I've grown accustomed to loneliness that now I don't know how to adapt to a relationship as close as this. Lately I've been doing okay but as I type this I feel like crying. I can't though; it's not like me to be crying over something as simple as life.

Look at insects, ants, they deal with death every day, how do they feel? Death is probably part of a lifestyle for them. Maybe they're a society of death mongers. At least they have kept their primal instincts. Humans have strayed so far from animalistic behaviours, are our species in denial of their heritage? Why do humans think they are above animals, we are no different, I take that back we are different, we are worse; we are the lowest form of life in this fucking planet. I hope humanity wipes itself out.

I can't stay in this house anymore, it's driving me mad, and I need an escape. I feel so confined, I'm hardly restricted but I just can't stand the oppression. I'm a minority in this house; no one in my family understands me, so I keep quiet and humour them all with mindless chit-chat and jokes. I never talk about anything too in-depth; I feel they won't understand what I'm really all about. I'm that obscure film no one wants to see or a select few do.

Music is such an influence on my life, and the everyday. As I sit here typing I'm listening to a mix of melancholy sounds. Mostly slow rock, I don't associate with emotional punk, and it's opening up my mind to pour out more of the deep seeded thoughts I'd usually not share, if I'd even think about them. I love music; it's my most treasured joy, apart from the animalistic joy of sexual pleasure.

I believe sex has nothing to do with love, sure you can love someone, but love has nothing to do with sex. You could absolutely hate someone but animal nature still tells you that you want to fuck them. I love my girlfriend; I love the things she does to me but there's no Montague's and Capulet's going on. There is no romance in modern society anymore that is sort of showing that humans do have ties to their animal instincts. The Victorian era is finally fading; the denial of humans being animals is coming to an end, at least in a sexual sense.

Last night I dreamt of saving a friend from a fire caused by a car-bombing at our school. What did this signify, well I took the liberty of enquiring a dream dictionary and it revealed to have some strangely credible answers. I want to know more about myself, and how I can interpret these feelings, but I have to wait for another dream. I can't make sense of anything going on around me. I don't want this life; I don't want any of it. I need to get away, if not erase myself completely. I can't handle human emotions anymore; it's too much for me. These feelings are getting so intense I feel I want to die without questioning any of the consequences. The hurt my friends and family would feel, for some reason just doesn't register in my mind anymore, I just want my suffering to end.

All those who praise human life are lucky enough to be ignorant of emotion. Unless they have some sort of super suppressant mind, which I wish I had. I want too much in this world, and it's all being taken away from me. I can't wait to be rid of this life; it's too much, maybe the next one that comes along won't be as weak-minded as I am. I have given in too easily, I don't deserve to live. Hopefully these writings will be viewed upon again over the years so that my mind doesn't go entirely to waste. Do my thoughts intrigue people? Or am I just rambling and hoping someone listens. I opt for the second one, but still I feel my existence on this planet has meant something, to someone, somewhere.

Not long now, I am counting down the days as I type this message.