Taking the Party Game Deeper
In my previous post, I stated words to the effect that if I had become a murderer, I would have been of the so-called disorganized type. I may have spoken too hastily. It may be that I would only have been truly disorganized with respect to my first kill. All I have to go on are my one-time thoughts of the future, sitting on zero and seriously contemplating making the leap to one:
I thought in the abstract that if I were to kill, there’d be no ritual of celebrating my preferably female victim, no elaborate torture beforehand, ceremonial burial after, or inordinate amount of time spent getting rid of evidence. I would separate myself from the scene of the crime, physically and mentally, as quickly as possible, as if it had never happened. Besides, I had no car to transport corpses with, and from a risk standpoint couldn’t handle the idea of keeping bodies in my room…
Though I spent several months as a stalker of strangers some twenty-five years ago, the closest I felt I came to branching out was a case of knowing my potential victim, a no-no if you want to stay free, which I understand to be typical. How does a person murder before circumstances force them to self-identify as a murderer, when they have never demonstrated the capacity, nor the overwhelming desire? Why, by way of dubious accidents; first times aren’t quite planned.
Imagining events to have broken the other way, maybe that’s when my native intelligence would have started to reshape my career more toward the organized end, thinking of all the ways I needed to improve on how the first time went. Then again, I was into mysticism and letting the winds blow where they may, and my history was what it was; a series of menial jobs that I didn’t hold for long, no social skills, no friends to speak of, too incompetent to be driving a car. And if brilliant is what brilliant does, even there I wasn’t much, with my 2.60 GPA on a four-point scale.
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