The Lecher

Im an angry old man who fantasizes about raping young girls. I don’t remember anything before the age of 16.  I was in the war and I think I killed something, but it was chaotic so I cant be certain.  The people at the pharmacy think im harmless, but they’re all idiots.  I killed my wife, but no one knows it. She was 10 years older than I, but she deteriorated much quicker.  Her forgetfulness got on my nerves, so I poisoned her with every chemical under the sink. One or two would have been enough, most likely, but I didn’t do any research because I was afraid of getting caught.  I know from watching Law and Order and CSI that they can catch most people nowadays, everyone leaves a trail of some sort.  I miss her now that she’s gone. Even an annoying presence is more agreeable than none at all.  Watching her die was the worst thing Ive ever experienced, even more horrifying than the war. I don’t like lying, but thankfully the police didn’t ask many questions; as far as I can discern, Im well liked by those that know me.  You probably know someone like me, we are everywhere.  We want to enter your home in the middle of the night and take something meaningful from you.  Your children, your wife, your aged dog.  We are the people that make you start, the ones that make you check the lock on your door twice. The reason that your children cant walk home from school anymore.  I’m salivating at the thought of doing harm to you. Thank you for letting your guard down, otherwise we may not exist. I don’t dislike you particularly, I dislike it all. Im not a misanthrope, im just post-modern.  I am the latest incarnation of evil, I am art, but I am also human.  Reason led me to evil. My creative urge led me to evil. Your shapely figure, and my lack there of, also let me there in part. I will save you from the torment of time with my callused, clean  hands.  This is a thankless job, and I am an underappreciated artist. I want the aliens to come quickly. Your life will finally come into perspective, you will shrink.  I will dance gaily at the sight of something higher than myself. The aliens will be my God, but until them I am yours.  Things unfold slowly, and I sit here and wait for the right time to leap into action.  It takes a lot to move me.  An adroit sensibility moves me. The outline of a hefty cock in a nice pair of pants moves me.  The electrifying sensation I get from the sublime moves me.  The slightlest semblance of originality is my ecstasy.  Listen to the sound of me beat my cage.  Give me the freedom to find my other self.  Give me circumstances different then these and I will behave. Something different, a different set of conditions so that I can prove to myself that I am not evil by nature—so that I can prove that I have no nature... that none of us have a nature; we are just the product of our unique enviroment, some unfortunate, others better off.  My mind is always active, it never quiets. It disturbs me, I am disturbed. We are all accountable. I’m just as guilty as everyone else. Anihilation wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Let the non-humans live, they did nothing wrong.  Goodbye, I’ll speak with you on facebook.