The Kill

It is one thing to feel frustrated and another to end a life. I have always been a thinker, playing around thoughts, creating images, situations in my mind and living them again and again. I believe thoughts have a life. My thoughts are alive.

It becomes dangerous when you begin to lose a grip on these thoughts and they begin to cross a line. It is frustrating to see your own thoughts intrude and disturb your life. But I wonder who is at fault here? Am I the one who is too compassionate to welcome each and every one of them and toy with my senses? I think no!

I have often thought of how it is like to end a life, thriving in your mind. In your head. I give shape and form to every thought that takes birth in the womb of my darker self. You know it’s interesting to consider this for a fact that the gender of your other side is always the opposite of what you’re from outside. I am a male and my ethereal half is a SHE and she is quite dark. It has a kinky ring to it, right?

Well, hold that thought, you might want to reconsider the kinky part for she has a lust. A thirst for darker things other than the usual. Violence. Torture. I think she is sadistic. She is very cunning to always dupe me into impregnating her with my innocence and in return she creates something out of that. Something dark. She transforms the seed of my innocence into darkness. But I love her. She is mine. The dark thoughts she creates with my innocence are my kids. I have given them life and I can always take it back from them. Not so innocent afterall?

She doesn’t mind me draining life out of our kids because not every thought is worth granting a gift of life, right? My thoughts look pretty much like me and the way I slice them to drain the blood out of them is exciting. She loves to watch because I do it so innocently. She makes me do it.

Have you ever killed one of yours?

Murder your own thoughts?