I have the urge to kill.
It waxes and wanes, swelling up and ebbing away until I no longer fee it, but know it is still there. Oftentimes, it seeps forward from the back of my mind and chest, like black smoke, and I do not notice it until it is too late.
Sometimes, it is a longing for the smug satisfaction of a subtle poisoning. Others, it is the grotesque fascination of a longing to feel death in my hands, to cut up and explore through vivisection and such. The inevitable messiness is highly repulsive, but the allure is oddly gravitating.
When I do note it coming on, before it overwhelms the feeling of "uh oh" and dread or dismissal with anticipation and urge, I try to push it back, to distract myself with something, anything. Math problems, random songs, funny moments, whatever. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Mostly, though, I don't notice it coming forward until it is too in control for me to care.
I do not think that the urge will lead to action, but when the impulse ebbs, it leaves a sense of dread about the feeling. When it is in full force, I couldn't care less. Right now, it is at a lull, and so I am able to feel bad or worried about it, instead of mild excitement, like sometimes when it is in the forefront.
Or worse, instead of feeling absolute nothing.
It waxes and wanes, swelling up and ebbing away until I no longer fee it, but know it is still there. Oftentimes, it seeps forward from the back of my mind and chest, like black smoke, and I do not notice it until it is too late.
Sometimes, it is a longing for the smug satisfaction of a subtle poisoning. Others, it is the grotesque fascination of a longing to feel death in my hands, to cut up and explore through vivisection and such. The inevitable messiness is highly repulsive, but the allure is oddly gravitating.
When I do note it coming on, before it overwhelms the feeling of "uh oh" and dread or dismissal with anticipation and urge, I try to push it back, to distract myself with something, anything. Math problems, random songs, funny moments, whatever. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Mostly, though, I don't notice it coming forward until it is too in control for me to care.
I do not think that the urge will lead to action, but when the impulse ebbs, it leaves a sense of dread about the feeling. When it is in full force, I couldn't care less. Right now, it is at a lull, and so I am able to feel bad or worried about it, instead of mild excitement, like sometimes when it is in the forefront.
Or worse, instead of feeling absolute nothing.
