Well, 24 hours of some fucked up shit and here I sit again…typing to find clarity because there is no way I’m repeating this shit out loud just yet! And in my long winded, trying to find and make sense out of the senseless…I shall unravel.
I studied criminology to try and find answers to my own questions about sex offenders, criminal behaviour, psychopathy…all that shit. The answers that I was finding up until that point, just didn’t seem satisfactory.
We, society, like to box up personalities or behaviours and give them some kind of label. I think it makes us feel safer…more secure in knowing that we know what that is because it has a shiny little, or big, label on it. And because it’s labelled means that someone way more qualified than us, has dissected and discussed its contents and must of put that label on it for a damn good reason. They are after all, the professionals! Which means we don’t have to do any sort of homework or research on said contents, its done for us!
So, after wandering out of university with my shiny degree I re-looked at the labels on the bottles I had questions about. And it turns out, the explanations I had discovered were not satisfactory or sufficient for said contents, again.
All the while, that familiar gutt churning that I have felt, forever, keeps on churning. But I keep looking for more ‘legitimate’ answers…you know, the type that can be quantified, studied…proved!
Besides being a sick fuck…a psychopath has a myriad of quirky fucked up personality and behavioural things going on. Same with the sociopath…the narcissist…all those lovely peeps that have been given mystical labels and titles to make them sound all scary and fancy in one ‘disorder’ or explanation.
Then theres the pedophiles who tend to be labelled with a few other exotic side order personalities…so as to not sound as ‘monster-ish’. I call them ‘functioning kiddie fuckers’; not such a delicate label, but a fitting one I think.(For a deeper, more intelligent explanation…google it!)
Then theres my personal fav. The Sadist. Who someone thought to take out of the almighty DSM; I think they were possibly just a little bit too fucked up for general understanding and sounded abit too ‘Hannibal-ish’, so got disqualified. But even before my criminology expedition, these set of freaks fascinated and frightened the living fuck out of me.
They still do.
And my gutt churns.
It turns out my gutt was correct. So even as a little tacker, my gutt knew. It wasn’t a ‘perceived’ threat; it was a real fucking threat. You know what though, its way more comforting to label the pedo cunt a sociopath, psychopath, narcissist or whatever…because that would make that fucker sound more human and not so – evil or fucked. But a sadist? Do they really exist? Or are they just characters in a psycho thriller movie? To enjoy inflicting pain on another…because they enjoy it or get off on it…well that’s; fucked.
As a kid I thought, with my mind, that this was bizarre, yet appropriate behaviour for someone with that ‘feeling’. Its not crazy…its not fried…its not scary…its not freaky…its all of those things squished up into one big dragon ball-z type thing, that’s set to explode, whenever. It’s completely unpredictable. There are tell tale signals of explosion, but like an earthquake, it’s size can’t be predicted.
And therein lies the fucked up-ness of it all. If it can’t really be predicted…if it can’t be boxed and labelled; studied and quantified; tweaked and reorganised – fixed…then what are you supposed to do with it?
Which brings me to what I learnt last night.
The pedo cunt has reeked a lot of havoc over the years, one way or another, it fucked up plenty of lives. And I haven’t been ignorant of this fact; I’ve just preferred to handle the facts as I knew them; and the effect they have had on and in my world.
The pedo cunt doesn’t look like a functioning pedo…you know, the next door neighbour type. It, (referring to ‘him’, the pedo cunt, but I prefer not to give him a gender) looks like a scary mother fucker. It’s not un-intelligent either. It knows it’s shit. And that’s scary in itself.
Add this to the gangland tattoos, the froth at the sides of the mouth, the changing eye colour…and it makes Hannibal look like Father Christmas.
Then there’s the drugs…the addictions…which I don’t call a disease in the pedo cunts case…I call those a choice. A selective and direct choice to engage in something to ‘enhance’ and facilitate all the characteristics that were waiting just underneath the skin.
I had preferred to believe that there was good in everyone…that somewhere underneath it all, these types weren’t born this way. But in the pedo cunts case…I’m not so certain. It may be that I’m too invested in seeing the pedo cunt burn at the stake…mind due, it’d probably enjoy that.
So…from what I’ve learnt…
This cunt terrorised, raped and facilitated in the death of one individual…that we know of. And that’s the short version.
Listening to the story of all this…I was surprisingly not surprised. What got to me, was the effect that it all had on those that ‘survived’! They are drug fucked…drunk…in therapy…have been diagnosed with PTSD…have tried to commit suicide…suffer from depression…. …. …
And it goes on…that sick fucks legacy of pillage and pain. And I wonder how it is that it is still breathing? How come ‘it’ didn’t take its own life…
Because…and here it is…
Because ‘IT’ takes pleasure in the suffering and pain it has caused and still causes! It enjoys the pain because it is a sadist in its heart of hearts. It’s not a psycho and socio-path. It is a true blue Sadist.
And now knowing that for all these years…from the youngest of years…I knew, instinctually, that this was a dangerous and twisted human being…yes a human being. Not a monster from the wardrobe or under the bed…no, a human being that was born from a mother…suckled, clothed…loved. It, turned into a sick fuck…and I could smell it on ‘IT’.
I knew…while everyone looked around for some other distraction…I knew.
I knew what ‘it’ was…I just didn’t have a name for it…or understand it.
Well, there is no understanding it. It is what it is.
And I…me…little me…
Survived that sick fuck.
So now…I ponder how this knowing effects me now. I know it does. And not negatively…I just haven’t quite processed it all yet.