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Just another day. I spent the entire day just working on writing, although I didn’t end up getting that much done unfortunately. I feel like a reckoning of some sort is overdue at this point… 

I’ve been feeling a lot of spite lately, although not the kind that leaves me crippled. There’s one kind of spite that turns inwards, into disgust and resentment and misanthropy… and then there’s the kind that breeds impatience and aggression and a callous disregard and seething contempt for those more disturbed than me. And that’s the kind that I feel right now: a malevolent strand of arrogance, the illusion of certain superiority and a disdain for perceived weakness, for spiritual flabbiness.

And to be honest, it gives me strength. It fills me with a sense of righteous purpose, and the confidence to achieve such. All the feelings of impotence and insecurity dissolve and it feels like I’ve finally been awakened to the kind of potential everyone always used to tell me they saw in me. The urge to kill suddenly no longer seems a matter of helpless compulsion, but of premeditated, predatory desire. I feel like I’m finally in control of my own actions, my thoughts. What I lose in consolation I gain in clarity.

Of course, I recognise that this too is a delusion. But at least it’s one that allows me to move forward. And at this point, that’s all that I really can hope for.