First time I used this for a problem. Someone here will recognise my style and connect the dots, but for this kind of problem, I prefer the safety of complete anonymity. It has been a couple of months since a certain incident, though it extends far back to the last couple of years. Gain friends. Lost friends. Gain them again. Lost them again. Lost a person I love. In fact, in the last couple of months, I pretty much lost everything in terms of contact. The people that I knew were all gone in some form. It has somewhat clouded my sanity and I just decided to let go. Take out my suffering on everyone else. As I started to become better after a few sessions of therapy, I got worse again and tried to commit suicide. Instead I was in the hospital. Again, recovering and as I thought to myself in the bed, I immediately came to the conclusion that what is the point of my suffering? Shouldn't I be getting better and move on? Correct, I should. But then as I become more and more in control of my sanity, I began to develop something. A desire to hurt others. A desire to see other people's suffering. I have been too nice myself and so caring to others. I kept getting burnt over and over again. It has got to a point that I thought to myself those who abuse the kindness of other should suffer. Should be punished. But you say this to me: "You have no right. What makes you think that you have a right?" Correct. I should not have a right. But yet... I feel that I do. As I look to others who murder and torture others without remorse, I feel disgusted. But as I watch how they act, why they act and what makes them that person, then I have respect for them. Murder and Torture is a hefty responsibility and chances are the majority will feel guilt. For some who feel no guilt, have the deepest admiration from me and do deserve a right to take away the right of others as they see fit. No one is special. Everyone is replaceable Why am I feeling like this? Well, because there are two people who I want to murder. I haven't had the guts to do it and chances are, I probably won't. It's a hefty responsibility that I am not ready to take upon. But the thought of it excites me. It makes me smile. If only I had the guts to do it. If only. Why am I writing this? Eh, to see the reaction of others. To write this all down and I want someone to read it. But I see murder as less a biggest crime to humanity, rather it's a responsibility only deserving to those who can take it upon themselves.