My Own Jiminy Cricket

I live in my own personal hell day in day out. I don't bother to move to an upscale form of purgatory as I truly believe there is none to be had. I have a conscience. I hate it and it screws every ill intention I want to exact in my constant state of disdain.

There's nothing wrong with admitting you're quite comfortable with the awkward and uncomfortable, but it is true that we would rather stay with the devil we know than to be with the devil we don't. I have a demon of guilt that rides my ass like a cheap donkey at the state fair! People that are coming and going and vandalizing and robbing and stabbing have no idea how difficult it is to hold back, but I do. Shaking my head all the way home I run through this infernal film that never ends in my mind of a bloodbath. Everything from mutilation to burials to searing fire and explosion. I don't much care for horror films, not because they scare me but because they remind me how sick I am and what I am capable of doing if there was no world order of things. Honestly, I don't even think I would live a short life either in that world, as I would certainly have a name for myself and people would fear me. I'm sure it would eventually lead to a permanent target being invisibly on my back, but the reward of regality and the stigmata that strikes fear would be orgasmic to say the least. You won't catch me suffering torment trying to figure out if I have a killing nature. I do. I just have one with a really big "safety" on it and lucky for you.

Perfection takes time and natural talent and I have lacked neither. My mind works 25/7 in that it never stops and even finds(steals)extra hours when it can. There is something sexual about a well oiled gun and slow stroking it to a nice hard finish! hahahaha(thought you were sleeping there for a second) And finally inhaling, raising the rifle and looking with one eye down the scope out four hundred yards between the crosshairs at some well deserved jackoff. Relax your shoulders and firmly place your middle finger on the trigger and slowly exhale and pulling back as you do! Slow motion sex as the ejaculating bullet sears down the barrel and coils in a wiggly worm dance out on an arc and rushing to its target! Priceless, and though it all happens in less than milliseconds, it takes forever that first time when that final sound, that chpuk, as it hits the clothing and flesh and rips through your enemy. The curtain being the sound of fifteen stone dropping like a sack of potatoes, and the eventual plume of sand, dust or smoke from the impact. Ever notice even on clean concrete there will be a billow of some sorts when a body or carcass falls-like it's displacing air and material the naked eye cannot see except in fast motion. I fantasize about this shit daily. I love the feel of guns and ammo and even have been hunting with my father and one of my ex husbands and unbeknownst to them felt more aroused holding those guns in the presence of men than pointing them at animals. I never fired at an animal and wouldn't unless it was begging me to in agony from some jackass' poor shot or if it was attacking and threatening my child/family and I had no other way and exhausted all other measures to remove the threat. Walking in camp with my rifle and knowing that with my chef skills and that gun and my eyesight and eagerness-there would be no stopping me and I would have disposed of the body count well before authorities knew the jig was up.

Empowering and morose as it sounds, these thoughts I have no conscience in the know of or guilt. My guilt would be in violating laws of man and what example I would set for the children of men. Knowing I can kill is enough for me. I don't need to pull that trigger. I don't need to taste the blood as I can do that when I bite my lip as I walk by them and fantasize that I tore their throats out with my bare hands and teeth. It is never becoming of a lady to think on such things....but I am no lady, it is my nature for I am what I am and that is anything but human~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves