Serial

I'm proud of my record... its my work, my life's work, if you will... a way of being... I began at 12... I walked into the woods with a dull machete and bludgeoned a groundhog to death, until it stopped moving, stopped breathing... I remember being out of breath, adrenaline pounding through my orbital sockets, collapsing on the ground next to the corpse... thinking new thoughts for the first time... it was thrilling, freeing... then the depression set in, giving way to despair... an overwhelming sense of meaninglessness, helplessness, hopelessness, predetermination... how can I break free of my little world?...

 

I didn't hurt anything again until my second year in the US Navy... I was out on liberty in a coastal party city full of whores, hustlers, drugs, and alcohol somewhere in Malaysia... I followed a random streetwalker down a dark narrow alley stinking of rotting vegetables... I killed the she-male with my bare hands, no blows... I watched the light dim in its eyes, I studied the subtle expressions that flashed across the muscles of its face... and then I sauntered back out into the passing river of bodies in the well-lit main street...

 

Life and death, death and life... it always seemed so random to me... a powerful hidden algorithm generating random events in an infinitely vast complex universe... a nothingness... and I am an entity in that emptiness... until I'm not.

View .mynoduesp's Full Portfolio