When the time comes

Oh, one more thing - I think I've found the next one. She's a little different from the rest, just a little different. it's something about her, you can tell she's had some kind of trouble in her life. I'm gonig to be the one to help her out.

I guess you could say I've been hiding out. . . ya see, my place is by an ambulance route. The ambluances, on their way to the hostpital from most of the city, go by my place with their sirens beeping. It's like the police are onto me, every time I try to sleep I wake up in a cold sweat and I hear the sirens. Always more sirens. . . WHY CAN"T I GET ANY PEACE! Why can't they just let me make my art, my spiritual home, my love of the stranger. Why can't they just leave me alone?!

whoa it's been a long time. I wanted to write this week a little more graphically - people just aren't taking me seriously. I hate that more than anything, especially when it's girls who think I'm nobody. I just want. . . I just want to MAKE THEM KNOW who I am. I'll admit, that's a big part of why I do what I do. It's about art, too. The art of separating skin from flesh, clothes from the dead (it's so hard it's like they're glued on sometimes I swear). I do it all out of love. Out of love for the stranger, and out of love for art, 'cause I'm all out of love and sometimes, you have to take things into your own hands.

Take last week for example, I drew some love into the world. She was one of those girls who you really might get to know, very real, down to earth. I'll be taking care of her dog while she's "away." His name is Max, it's simple really but I don't mind at all. A golden retriever, very friendly. - I'll bring him scraps when I get done working. So what filthy thing did I do now, you're wondering. Well, the actions were really simple, but the emotions and motives aren't. I followed her, I learned her habits. She takes the bus every day to a real cruddy part of town, and that's where I first saw her. I didn't try to catch her eye, 'cause right away I knew she had greatness in her. I let that greatness shine through all the mess and stink of the body, but I'm getting ahead of myself. It's a lot harder to follow people sometimes, when it feels like there's breath on your neck. I've been feeling that a lot lately. So I was careful, and I'd walk ahead of her, or cross the street, or go around a block to get behind her again. She's got this really cute thing she does with her hair, when she doesn't think anyone will notice. It took a week of this game, and I'll admit my anticipation was making me a little sloppy. But the thrill, when you know tonight's the night, it's like sex and love and getting mugged all at once. My heart was pounding as I followed her home that night, a little closer than previous nights. I got close enough to smell her hair, and then I showed her beauty, real beauty. Blood pouring down her blouse, being wicked up by the edge of her pants. . . following the grain of the cloth. I took a little of the blood on my fingers, and as she gurgled through her broken windpipe I painted her face. Two strokes down each cheek, a dab on her nose. . . you can probably find leaked coroner's pictures floating on the net. The best part was her expression, though. She really knew what I was all about, and the release I feel when her eyes went dim and my hands we covered with blood, it's likely to make a mess of my pants someday. Not that the blood doesn't do that anyways, but I think of it like a painter who always has grubby hands with smears of titanium white, and burnt umber.

I went to work on her, then, and finished the job. I was all but spent but this isn't just about getting off, this is about art, and if you really care you don't just roll over and go to sleep. I'll ponder the implications of this later, I need to feed Max. It's good to be home again.

i'm sorry i've been busy. I didn't want to share what i've been working on. This might be one of my greatest efforts yet.
I've fallen in love in the way i talked about earlier. I found my next victim. She was beautiful. Long brown hair, Blue eyes, beautiful body, and a great happy state of being. She was perfect. I met her in the lobby of a classroom building. She was like those girls you see around campus, always talking to other people, very friendly. I knew she was well liked, and i knew i had to have her.

When i say i had to have her i don't mean physically. I didn't need to "FUCK" her, i didn't need to make her mine in the general sense of that terminology. Rather i had to own her. I needed her in my collection. She had to be the first of my beautiful collection which i have planned to spend the rest of my existance gathering. She would be the first and the greatest. I had to do it right. She couldn't know me but i had to know her. I had to get in her head, knwo what she was thinking.

I spent the last 8 days following her. I barely returned to my own place. I didnt' study, i didn't eat, i just lived life through her shoes. I was able to feel her mind. Know what she was thinking as she passed by these people in the hallways of her classrooms. I went with her everywhere. She didn't know she didn't care but she was my whole existance. I got desperate to feel her blood, feel her hair, feel her spirit escape.

I find that the greatest part of killing is that it gets you dirty. Dirty with the other persons soul. YOu don't just get their blood on you, you get their hair, their guts, their soul and their life pouring out over you. You realize that at that moment you are sending them off, freeing them of this world, and teaching them possibly the greatest lessont hey will ever learn. YOu teach them about God. Whether there is a god or not has nothing to do with what i'm saying, neither does religion. what i'm saying is by killingthis person you rae showing them the truth. You are showing them that there is a god, or there isn't, you are teachign them the true religion. you are setting them free of the pressure put on them by society. you are letting them achieve heaven. THis girl was perfect, she had never done anythign wrong so i let her leave this world happy. SHe didn't scream she saw me and knew why i was there. she knew what was to happen. She didn't plead for her life, rather she closed her eyes, and got on her knees. I took the knife in my hand and walked behind her. I gently grabbed her hair and carefully slit across her neck. I felt it through my system, it was a screaming pressure. I felt aroused. As she lost her stiffness and her body loosened, i let go of her. I took her hand in mine and said to her that i hope she would enjoy the place i sent her. Enjoy the new world. Enjoy her new life. I told her i loved her and as she stopped breathing and the life left her body she smiled. I knew i had freed her and that this new place was great. I longed to die myself at this moment, because i knew that god existed and that there was great times ahead when i was found. But i also knew that i was not meant to spend the rest of my life in prison so i got up from where i sat, took my clothes off and changed into clean clothes. As i ran from this place i felt free. I wanted to go to my home. My boat on the harbor. when i got there i took my boat out to sea. I spent the evening naked feeling the breeze, and i knew that i was here for a reason. I knew i was here to free people of their problems and let everyone know that what was beyond this world was good. I was here to set good people free, so when true evil set itself upon this world there would be no good people left for them to take.

As i sat on my boat pondering the life i had given to this girl i felt in my heart that i was good, and that i must continue to kill those who are like me.

It must be done, or else they will get me. I keep thinking in my mind that what i am doing is wrong but what i am realizing now is it si right, and that i have done everythign right.

I looked up at the moon and felt like i had to scream i looked up and felt changed. I Yelled at the top of my lungs! this was it i have found my place. I am finally at home again. I have returned back to the child i once was the free spirit who can love again. I feel it in my spirit i feel it in my sould. I AM BACK HOME AGAIN!

ok today i figured i'd write about something a little lighter.

I'd like to talk about music, in paticular bass lines.

This will be short so stay with me.

I feel that a good bass line does something special to music, it makes the song more life like and real. It can make you dance, it can make you feel. I also belive that a strong line can make you feel really good. (I'm talking bass lines not coke lines). I want to use to examples of what i feel are the best bass catagories that make you really feel good. there is two basic catagories: FUNK BASS, and Not FUNK BASS. Funk Bass is something special, it makes you jive. It's something almost surreal to the actual song. Funk bass stands out on its own. It is the driving force behind the song. Go out and listen to some funk. whether it be George Clinton, or The Funky meters, which are probably my two favorite funk ensambles, they are able to make you feel the bass. The bass is a song in its self with these bands.

There is one other band to note. Led Zeppelin has f*cking amazing bass lines. They are just like funk bass, but there is one differnce, the rest of the song molds around the bass. It's almost as if funk bass drives the funk songs, but Led Zeppelin bass is the song. The lines from john paul jones seem to just go crazy, they are totally random but fit togther in the context of a song. It is a beautiful relationship, ressonating from the bass to the guitar and the drums. It is just incredible to me how much emotion seem sto be in these lines. Yet, every video recording i've seen of john paul jones shows him displaying very little emotion. He doesn't make the face guitarists make when tehy are soloing, but yet he is doing just that. He doesn't take breaks in the middle of the song either. THe guitarist solos for about a fourth of the song. But john paul jones solos for the entire song. I've never heard anything like it, except in funk.

That is the problem with music today. THey don't take their bass seriously. It sounds like shit. You either can't hear it, or they don't have in like in the case of the new acoustic guiarist thing. Or they use it so much with such presence that it is the only thing you hear. Bass is a mystical invention. It can drive the song and make a great song a classic, where as when overdosed it can drive the song to hell. When your head feels the bass it's good, when your head is trying to resist the power emitted from huge trunk speakers it is very bad. I don't want my head to hurt, i want to feel the magic of bass, not the hell fire that can be caused by an overdose. Actually maybe bass lines and coke lines have a lot in common. when used they both make you feel good, but when you start to abuse them or get addicted to the loud pounding feeling you get from them, you OD or like die or something.

I think most modern music bassists today should check into the betty ford clinic for bass abuse, then when that's cured and they can produce decent mucic they can start to work on less imporant things, like the cocaine problem they picked up from other patients at the clinic.

Love

This is about love.

I belive there are four types of love. Each one intertwines and mixes, but they are unique in many ways too.
1) Love of Family
2) Love of Friends
3) Love for Lovers
4) Love for Strangers

each person subscibes to each one of these loves in some way in their life. And almost everyone on this planet has a connection through these four basic ideas. I'd like to describe to you what i love.

I have a stong love of family. But this is strange. I'm talking about immediate family, bascially my Mother, and Grandmother, and Uncle.

The other family members i have fit more into the 4 th group. Because i don't know them, but i want to. THat's basically what the fourth group is. Love for strangers is everytihng from the way you feel about that girl who walks by that you've never met but see almost everyday, to the family members you feel attached to but don't even know.

In life there are many important feelings that get involved. My strongest is in my gut. I feel it when i love someone. But it is possible to give up your love. that is where numbre three comes in. This takes place when you cannot get rid of that love. This is possibly the strongest love, and it requires years to cultivate. It does not happen immediatly, and it of yet has not happened to me, but i know it will.

So this leaves my love life with two options FInd someone to fit into number three from either the numer 2 group or the number 4 group. Personally i don't like the idea of finding someone in the number two group, because i feel very close to all my friends. Pretty much anyone i've really gotten to know i feel close to and i wouldn't risk losing them for anything. So this leaves me with the option four. Find someone i feel a connection with on the street.

I have those certain girls i walk by when going to class or walking around the city. The ones you pass everyday. The people you don't even know, but yet you feel a connection with, because you either see them so often or you just know they are there for a reason.

It is those people that affect our guts. THose people that make us want to love. But how do we meet these people? It is not easy to get them into your life. Because the society we live in does not promote talking to strangers. Yet, we are born alone. We don't know anyone then, and we trust that during our young lives we will be taught who we can trust.

The time has come now where i don't know who to trust, but i want to trust everyone. I'm going to make an effort to know these people. To love them the way only a stranger can. Through getting to know them from the start. without any real background knowledge of them or who they are.

This leaves me with one problem. IF society doesn't accept me going to talk to theses people how do i get to know them? I can't capture them and keep them in my basement, for one thing i live on a boat, i don't have a basement. It just is not easy to get to know someone on the street, because we have always been taught not to talk to strangers.

I think this is the wrong thing to teach our kids. We should teach them to accept strangers, but be weary of the fourty year old men that are yelling to them from a car. If our children are to really survive in life by finding their true love. THey must be ablet o accept the fact that that person might be someone they just walk past durring the day. And in fact it might be that person you really feel in your gut is the one for you.

It's come to this.

They say after your first killing you feel remorse. I guess I do. Now the only problem is getting on with my life. I feel a need to go through this period slowly. I have done something awful, but i feel a need to do it again. I know it's in me it's a feeling i've had since birth. That feeling of anger toward other people. The desire to scream when people don't listen to you. It's in me and it always has been. As a child i was quiet. I did not speak much and i kept to myself. As i grew older i felt a need to make my voice heard. The only trouble with this is when you are quiet your whole life people don't listen to you when you grow up. If when you switch enviroments, such as coming to this city, people can tell you aren't a good talker or that you have always just kept to yourself. When you try to change this and reach out to other people they don't accept you. Maybe it is because you don't know what to say, or maybe it is because of the way you are percieved by others. I fear rejection yet confront it every day. It's almost a part of me now. That might be the reason for this crazy period in my life. I'm not a bad person. I've killed one person. I can change.

I say that but i don't mean it. I can't change, this is primal, it goes deep into the depths of my phyche. I will do it again not because i want to, but because i have to . Everyone has to, they just can hold back their desire. We have all had that feeling where we wanted to hit the person next to us because they made us mad, or kiss the person next to us because we just felt that connection. This is the same thing. I feel a connection to murder. My first killing was wrong it was sprung out of anger. My next one will be different. I plan on acting on those instincts in a way that goes back to what i feel. If i am with someone, and they are just so perfect that they won't become a better person, that their life is so real at htat moment. I feel it is my duty to end it. Because as they survive and life goes on, they won't become better, they will become corrupt like all people do.

That is my desire. To not be known as an evil murderer, but to be known as a deep lover who cares so much about their victims that when they are at that point of no return, at that perfect point in their life i will end it and help them pass on to a new place free from cares, because they will have acheived a place as one of the most perfect humans ever.

Sorry, I sort of got away from this last night. I got busy, I met someone important.

I guess I should get back to what I said yesterday. Yes, I killed someone, It was a hard thing to do, but the funny thing is once you start it comes very easily.

I knew I was going to do it. It was definately a pre-meditated thing. But the way it happened was the strange thing. I'll tell you the story for the hope that you will understand me better, and not think I am strange or that I am a sick individual.

I met this person a week ago. It was a wednesday morning, and this person just pissed me off. It was like a car cutting you off in traffic just sort of anger.
This person just immediately made me angry. I didn't even talk with them was the funny thing. It was just a random encounter in a bookstore that rubbed me the wrong way. They were in line in front of me, and they were with their friend. I don't know if these two were dating or something but they seemed very close. The guy was bored to death from the sections of the store she had him looking in. The girly book secton, Cosmo Magazines, the literature section, things guys that want to look cool don't look at. She seemed really nice, like a good person, she seemed well read, and interested in everything, he seemed like the normal football and beer guy. Not much to him, just a fear of being not considered a man. But he was arguing with her about the book she was buying . I could not tell what kind of book it was, but it looked like a classic. He was arguing over a 15 dollar purchase. She didn't seem to care, but then he started brining up other things, like how she spend money on stupid things. Things that don't seem too stupid, but maybe she was a little frivolous, but it was none of his business. Anyway he said he would wait outside, and walked off angry.

This doesn't seem like a bad situation, I'm sure it was over nothing, but it just made me angry. I don't like it when people treat women bad, espeically over something so trivial. ANyway I knew there had to be something more. I followed them after that, for about a week. This seems excessive, but it was actually very interesting. Not many people look at a relationship from the outside. Either they don't care enough, or they are involved and can't actually see it from this point of view. But relationships are funny, they change every day. She changed moods, and he reacted, or he would change his attiude and she would react.

Well over the course of the week I spent most my time watching them together. I found their meeting spots quite obvious, and i watched them at their daily lunch meetings. THen i decided to spend one day watching each of htem. See how they spend thier alone time. She was quite normal, she hung out with friends and had a good time. He on the other hand seemed miserable. He couldn't function. He went to work and came home, he went to the occasional class, but that was about it. Then i noticed something. Around 11pm on the day of following him, he started drinking. I never watched them at night, mostly cause i wasn't interested in their personal relations, just in howt hey reacted to each other. So, i watched him start drinking. Then he called her up. I don't know if this was an isolated incident or if this happened often but he yelled about nothing, just flipping out. I don't know if it was the alcohol, or just pent up rage. But he was nasty. He said some very horrible things and i knew i had to do something. I just felt very angry. I don't know why, i barely knew this girl, and i wasn't about to ask her out after he was gone. I just wanted her to be happy. So I went to the hardware store, and bought a saw, some plastic, a crow bar and some rope. I didn't know how i was going to do it, but i knew i was going to. So, that's it. He is gone, and she was sad, but she'll get over it in time. And he is gone. One less asshole to worry about in traffic. One less fuck to get in the way of everyone else. One less bad father, and one less bad husband. Maybe the world is better, but i know i am. I changed with this, and i will be different from now on.