Portrait of an American Psycho 6
YOUVE ALREADY BEEN WARNED, DAMMIT!
down town elpaso is quite the opposite if compared to any other major cities' downtown. instead of being the heart of the city, it is the place to go for hookers and stolen merchendise sold at these little stores run by asian couples or mexicans. no one wants to be there at night, bums constantly habit the alley ways, and regardless of how beautiful the buildings once were; years of filth and neglect makes new york city's worst area look like the suburbs. the once clear glass windows to each shop have hardly any visability due to dirt and grime, and normally have displays covering them entirely or having nothing but bars on them. this would be due to all the years of dumb fuckers going around and breaking in. it makes about as much sense as robbing a dollar store (which im sure has happened often in this city).
the basement is a house in the general down town area, on a block that only has office buildings. its a rather oddly designed house but i would not mind living there. my favorite room is the basement, where a few friends of mine organized for bands to play, though it only happened twice. inside the house, the entrance to the basement reminds me of the cabin's basement from evil dead. all it needs is two metal rings on the door itself, one on the floor next to it, complete with a chain running through each, and you would expect to see a haggard decomposing woman screaming that she'll swallow your soul. supposidly the house itself is haunted, i never heard by what but the stories i was told is something about people finding a collection of human bones as additional space was being dug up. it makes me think about all the people ive burried in the desert. i wonder why no one has found the bodies, yet when it is always on the news how murdered people around here are found. perhaps this is due to the fact that i hide them well. underground, unable to be detected even from above. those idiots do it for pathetic reasons, the key being money.
there was a story about a little boys death today on the news. it seems he was stabbed in the throat and left to die as his mother was on her cell phone and shopping in foley's. this particular event breaks something inside of me and i feel my eyes get a tad wet. a child's life is a precious thing. it may not have a history, or much of a background, and has yet to make an impact. but there is potential. there is the chance to what we crave the rest of our lives and the chance to start life. of course we dont think of this as kids, we just go through it. many parents see this and its the reason they want them to succeed in life. they want to provide the future. i now already want to find this person. i have so many ideas in store. once i find him/her, that is when the fun will start.
i hate paris hilton.
why is she famous? what talents does she have? none t hat i can think of unless you concider being useless a talent. which would mean that at least half the world has. many people are only consumers, wanting the bigger house, the better cars, and the most friends, as if money and possessions will make you a better person.
more often than not, it does the exact opposite.
im sitting at the same area i was when listening to that fat bitch talk about church a few weeks ago, and im admiring this one girl donned in all black. her blouse has a criss-crossing ribbon or thin rope like a bustier, going from the stomach to right under her breasts, which by the way, look nice. i like how black can sometimes compliment the soft curves of a womans figure. it makes me want to immediately caress their sides from the hip to the ribcage, and hold them tight. for them to press their rear against me, so they can feel the heat of my crotch through my pants. ill move the hair aside, and bite and gnaw on her neck. she has shoulder length dark brown hair which looks black and with the dim lighting of the room shines a small strip around her hair like a crown. she is wearing black capris pants and black socks with sparkling cross designs colored a glittery silver, and with what looks like black ballerina slippers.
she rests her head back and closes her eyes. after two minutes she opens them, and looks around the room. no one can see my eyes with the sunglass i am currently wearing. i catch her glance at me, twice. i grin and look away.
she wants me.
normally people will only look at me once or a few times, always looking frightened since to the 'normal' standards of society, im a freak. with my boots and all black outfit, the symbol berkowitz drew in a note durring the summer of sam (the shirt hand painted by myself), my necklace with a real shark tooth dangling.
though sometimes i see a look of interest in how they glance at me, where its usually a few times in a row. thats how she looked at me today. i know im not a bad looking guy. hell, i know im more attractive than a majority of men in this city. plus, when not provoked otherwise i can be the ideal partner in a relationship. ive lost count on the number of times that i have been told: how great i am, how kind i am, compliments on my humor, my talents, and even told by one girl that i was the best fuck she has ever had. durring that particular conversation, this girl added that she loved how hard i fucked her.
the girl in black capris puts on a pair of ear-bud headphones, slides on her backpack and walks away. she glances at me one last time. id like to fuck her as long as she only had a pair of tall vinyl or leather boots, or a pair of sexy open toed high heels.
sitting in my three o-clock class, i listen quietly to the class conversation on a book, not really caring about the subject, though i will occasionally throw in my own ideas and interpretations on the topics being discussed.
"it makes you wonder, what it would take in order to make someone snap."
hearing my professor say this causes me to smile and hold in my laughter. i know that if i look up from my paper i will see a few eyes staring at me as if im some kind of fool. i already want to start cutting stomachs open and decapitating whomever i can. except some of the girls. their beauty is almost flawless, though the look in their eyes show either a look of internal hatred and depression, or just that they're stuck up bitches. i believe its both if the latter was true, since a person's hostile attitude toward anyone they chose is only a front for some form of self loathing. insecurities, a horrible break up, traumatic experiences with the family, sexual molestation; the list goes on. its hard, but you can NOT let the past ruin your future. sometimes things happen to us that are almost impossible to get over, but there is no reason to let it destroy all the good you can accomplish and all the experiences you would have missed out on if you had chosen suicide.
but some people just deserve to die. the population is constantly growing, so there is always a way to decrease the number. war is a choice countries will take when it is necessary to be rid of a good amount of people.
its midnight. a head is stuck in the wall above my tv, which i threw while screaming at some dipshit on the news who is attempting to explain this accident that happened not too long ago, but his english is so broken that its impossible to piece together. i cant remember where the head came from, but it is still dripping blood and has yet to reek of decomposition. the missing persons segment today was rather long. a sense of pride rushes into my body. i take another drag of my cigarette and change the channel.
© morfiend 2005
down town elpaso is quite the opposite if compared to any other major cities' downtown. instead of being the heart of the city, it is the place to go for hookers and stolen merchendise sold at these little stores run by asian couples or mexicans. no one wants to be there at night, bums constantly habit the alley ways, and regardless of how beautiful the buildings once were; years of filth and neglect makes new york city's worst area look like the suburbs. the once clear glass windows to each shop have hardly any visability due to dirt and grime, and normally have displays covering them entirely or having nothing but bars on them. this would be due to all the years of dumb fuckers going around and breaking in. it makes about as much sense as robbing a dollar store (which im sure has happened often in this city).
the basement is a house in the general down town area, on a block that only has office buildings. its a rather oddly designed house but i would not mind living there. my favorite room is the basement, where a few friends of mine organized for bands to play, though it only happened twice. inside the house, the entrance to the basement reminds me of the cabin's basement from evil dead. all it needs is two metal rings on the door itself, one on the floor next to it, complete with a chain running through each, and you would expect to see a haggard decomposing woman screaming that she'll swallow your soul. supposidly the house itself is haunted, i never heard by what but the stories i was told is something about people finding a collection of human bones as additional space was being dug up. it makes me think about all the people ive burried in the desert. i wonder why no one has found the bodies, yet when it is always on the news how murdered people around here are found. perhaps this is due to the fact that i hide them well. underground, unable to be detected even from above. those idiots do it for pathetic reasons, the key being money.
there was a story about a little boys death today on the news. it seems he was stabbed in the throat and left to die as his mother was on her cell phone and shopping in foley's. this particular event breaks something inside of me and i feel my eyes get a tad wet. a child's life is a precious thing. it may not have a history, or much of a background, and has yet to make an impact. but there is potential. there is the chance to what we crave the rest of our lives and the chance to start life. of course we dont think of this as kids, we just go through it. many parents see this and its the reason they want them to succeed in life. they want to provide the future. i now already want to find this person. i have so many ideas in store. once i find him/her, that is when the fun will start.
i hate paris hilton.
why is she famous? what talents does she have? none t hat i can think of unless you concider being useless a talent. which would mean that at least half the world has. many people are only consumers, wanting the bigger house, the better cars, and the most friends, as if money and possessions will make you a better person.
more often than not, it does the exact opposite.
im sitting at the same area i was when listening to that fat bitch talk about church a few weeks ago, and im admiring this one girl donned in all black. her blouse has a criss-crossing ribbon or thin rope like a bustier, going from the stomach to right under her breasts, which by the way, look nice. i like how black can sometimes compliment the soft curves of a womans figure. it makes me want to immediately caress their sides from the hip to the ribcage, and hold them tight. for them to press their rear against me, so they can feel the heat of my crotch through my pants. ill move the hair aside, and bite and gnaw on her neck. she has shoulder length dark brown hair which looks black and with the dim lighting of the room shines a small strip around her hair like a crown. she is wearing black capris pants and black socks with sparkling cross designs colored a glittery silver, and with what looks like black ballerina slippers.
she rests her head back and closes her eyes. after two minutes she opens them, and looks around the room. no one can see my eyes with the sunglass i am currently wearing. i catch her glance at me, twice. i grin and look away.
she wants me.
normally people will only look at me once or a few times, always looking frightened since to the 'normal' standards of society, im a freak. with my boots and all black outfit, the symbol berkowitz drew in a note durring the summer of sam (the shirt hand painted by myself), my necklace with a real shark tooth dangling.
though sometimes i see a look of interest in how they glance at me, where its usually a few times in a row. thats how she looked at me today. i know im not a bad looking guy. hell, i know im more attractive than a majority of men in this city. plus, when not provoked otherwise i can be the ideal partner in a relationship. ive lost count on the number of times that i have been told: how great i am, how kind i am, compliments on my humor, my talents, and even told by one girl that i was the best fuck she has ever had. durring that particular conversation, this girl added that she loved how hard i fucked her.
the girl in black capris puts on a pair of ear-bud headphones, slides on her backpack and walks away. she glances at me one last time. id like to fuck her as long as she only had a pair of tall vinyl or leather boots, or a pair of sexy open toed high heels.
sitting in my three o-clock class, i listen quietly to the class conversation on a book, not really caring about the subject, though i will occasionally throw in my own ideas and interpretations on the topics being discussed.
"it makes you wonder, what it would take in order to make someone snap."
hearing my professor say this causes me to smile and hold in my laughter. i know that if i look up from my paper i will see a few eyes staring at me as if im some kind of fool. i already want to start cutting stomachs open and decapitating whomever i can. except some of the girls. their beauty is almost flawless, though the look in their eyes show either a look of internal hatred and depression, or just that they're stuck up bitches. i believe its both if the latter was true, since a person's hostile attitude toward anyone they chose is only a front for some form of self loathing. insecurities, a horrible break up, traumatic experiences with the family, sexual molestation; the list goes on. its hard, but you can NOT let the past ruin your future. sometimes things happen to us that are almost impossible to get over, but there is no reason to let it destroy all the good you can accomplish and all the experiences you would have missed out on if you had chosen suicide.
but some people just deserve to die. the population is constantly growing, so there is always a way to decrease the number. war is a choice countries will take when it is necessary to be rid of a good amount of people.
its midnight. a head is stuck in the wall above my tv, which i threw while screaming at some dipshit on the news who is attempting to explain this accident that happened not too long ago, but his english is so broken that its impossible to piece together. i cant remember where the head came from, but it is still dripping blood and has yet to reek of decomposition. the missing persons segment today was rather long. a sense of pride rushes into my body. i take another drag of my cigarette and change the channel.
© morfiend 2005