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.