Beware of how vain this piece of writing is, if you are you may enjoy it more. Perhaps you could think of it as your own.
I often think about how depraved I am.
Then I push it out of my mind. I can’t dwell on it too long or ever speak of it.
This is false. It isn’t really me.
I’m the person who has these dark and depraved thoughts, these imaginings and impulses that would shock and scare people.
Would people still think of me the same way if I told them who I really am? I think many I know think of me as a ‘good’ person.
Does a good person think for a moment of running a person over in the forecourt of a petrol station because they are standing in the way of your car and won’t move fast enough? Probably.
Does a good person think of killing someone because they are irritated by them momentarily? I think so.
I think the idea of ‘good’ is illusory. We do not do certain things because we know the penalties we would face. So are we really good just because we deny our impulses? Or are we weak?
Are we good because we feel good being good? Or are we good because we think we should be?
In terms of ‘goodness’, I think the penalties we give ourselves would be the harshest.
The torture that we would subject ourselves to if we strayed to a place where we killed or really harmed someone we loved or even someone we hated. You see it in the eyes of someone who has done such a thing.
I have met a man who killed the love of his life. I felt pity for him. He betrayed himself. And betrayed those who loved him and the person he killed.
But I am a good man. Whatever good is. Fuck good and fuck bad.
Is a really bad person, condemned by society, who admits their fault, better than a good person who does not? I think probably they are.
People think I am good. Not everyone does of course. We all have our detractors. My biggest being myself. Which is not unique.
I think of chaos, destruction and evil. I think of Violence, anger and hate.
I balance this out with the positive aspects of my character though. Peace, love and understanding. I do not sink into the depravity I imagine.
Does that make me less depraved though? I don’t think so.
I think of vengeance. Vengeance for wrongs done to my loved ones. Vengeance for wrongs done by my loved ones.
Vengeance for wrongs done to me, vengeance for wrongs done by me.
I think of death. Death to those who do not believe I am right. I know more than everyone else. I am greater than you.
I can’t articulate it yet however.
That is sheer vanity though. The true weakness of humanity. My weakness. My humanity.
I know enough to know that it is meaningless to know more or to be more. Though it is also meaningful. We will all die. Or will we download our consciousness to a hard drive and live on?
Will that be good? Or helpful? To live forever? Is god in the machine? Will we create our god? Will we make ourselves gods? Maybe.
I don’t look forward to fading away. Of aging until I disappear. Lying in a bed being waited on by patronising fucks. Though I am intrigued by death.
I look forward to the alternate dimension. Death is quite possibly a magical thing. It hastens to us with it’s beautiful fatality, it’s end, regardless.
Death is the end they say.
That said, what do we know of it? Of what lies beyond it? What do we really know? Of inter-dimensional realities?
Very little. There are alternate dimensions, I know this, and many others do also. I have seen them. I do not care if you do not believe. If you do not then you should think on it further. Ruminate.
I know more than you do. I am more depraved than you. I accept the depravity and the knowledge. I accept death and life.
I hate, and I love. I love you. And I hate you. I am at peace with this. As you should be also.
I bore myself and others. I know enough to know I am a bore. Peace be with you.
I do not look forward to reading this in a year. I will despise it tomorrow.