I think about violence a lot

‎When I look around a crowded room or a busy street, my only thought is how I’d want to get a gun and have control over all of them. Make everyone scared. Splatter people with their friends’ blood and not allow them to move.
I often fantasize about getting a girl to have sex with me, and when she undresses, I’d tie her up and she’d think it was just a kink- but really, I’d put my clothes back on, take out a knife, and start to cut her up and stab her slowly, not letting her die until I got bored.

I want to slit peoples throats and let them choke on their own blood. I LOVE blood. I think it’s beautiful and seeing lots of it is so satisfying.

When I was younger, I’d get bullied a lot, and while people were holding me down and beating me up, I’d close my eyes and enjoy it. I’d enjoy feeling the blood run down my face and tasting it in my mouth.

When I got good at fighting, I loved the bullies even more, because I could hurt them back and nobody could do anything about it because they started it. I beat people with my fists until they had been unconscious for many minutes, and I just was doing extra damage to see the blood. ‎

I don’t want to get in trouble, and chances are I’ll never, ever bring myself to actually hurt another person (except in self defense) so I’ve taken to cutting myself. I write poetry and stories in blood. My arms are so covered in scars that people assume I’m depressed.

This isn’t sexual at all. Not interested in rape, BDSM, or anything like that. In fact, rape victims make me incredibly sad and sympathetic. Murder victims, though, I just envy the attacker.‎

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