I don’t need motivation.
It’s not that I don’t want to.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to.
There is this certain palpable radiance when it happens.
It’s unexplainable, really.
Like a spiritual and sexual experience in a confluence....like converging chaotic rivers.
I wish it were easy to dissect.
It’s not.
You see, I understand this for what it is.
I see the moral tangibility to it all.
I see the aura in its hues of light to dark, yellow to red.
It’s not that I don’t know what i’m doing is wrong.
I know it is, I need it to be.
There is a symbiotic relationship between it being so wrong, but feeling so right.
It’s God-like, you know?
Life becomes contingent on my decision.
What I understand most is the human condition.
And how some people don’t deserve theirs.
Which is another pillar to my reasoning.
I don’t need any motivation, it’s my euphoria, my dopamine......my pleasure.
There is no anger associated to them.
I am methodical, and precise.
I leave nothing.
I don’t hide them because I don’t need to.
My profession allows me discretion, and the ability to quantify a carbon based life.
Quite lovely understanding chemicals and the bag of chemicals that is our bodies.
I am nothing glamorous.
I am quiet and unseen.
Extroverted enough to be loved.
Introverted enough to considered a madman.
I will say this, as I only have 13 minutes before I meet my next....victim if you want to call them that.
I have only one haunting aspect to all of this.
Their eyes.
I still see everyone of them.
I still see the shock and fear.
All 46 pairs, as clear as sunlight.
Every color, every shape.
In my dreams, in people I see on the street, when I close my own eyes.
I see them, incessantly, shaking sometimes in violent vibrations.
Truthfully, it may be my death one day.
And rightfully so.
They will come for me, they always do.
I will greet them as old friends coming to welcome me to my hell.
Uh oh, 13 minutes is up, I am meeting her at the corner coffee shop.
I am always early.
Number 47.