The following is the central part of an email exchange I had with a Reader who initially asked me what I thought of the possibility that he might be a Sociopath. As it turned out I did not find him to be a Sociopath (as I define Sociopaths, that is) but a Psychopath, much like myself in many ways one of which happens to be the very same that made me create this website/blog: I wanted to prove to everybody that I was not a psychopath. Something of an ironic coincidence, you might say – but perhaps it isn’t such an uncommon reaction for someone when he or she first begin to realize they may be afflicted with a condition that mainstream society and popular culture in general think of as representative of everything nobody could ever want to be.
There are no quotations. I’ve kept my words aligned to the right while my “Interviewee’s” text is aligned to the middle section of the page…
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Well, this may be an uphill battle, if you wish to identify me as a psychopath. My goal, however, is to convince myself, as well as prove to others, that I am not a psychopath.
Also, since we last spoke, I have taken LSD again. I’m afraid that one of the effects of LSD is that it can change one’s personality. There is no telling how so, or in what way, or even if one’s personality will be affected at all. I had no idea of this effect. I only knew that LSD was a hallucinogen. That was it. Needless to say, my psyche has been altered a bit.
Let me go back and update some of the knowledge you have about me. Starting from earliest to latest:
What groups or minorities do you identify with and consider yourself to have a bond with?
Females. I enjoy the company of women rather than men. Not (just) for arousal, but I had realized that women have always been looked down upon. Not only by sociopaths, who are typically misogynists, but males in general. That males have always had that feeling that they were “Superior” to women. They have been objectifying women for a long time, and continue to do it. The males have won, and women have been successfully objectified. This is where a hatred for men came along. Now, I am a misandrist. It’s also noteworthy that I am capable of hiding this hatred very well. But even with that, I still don’t really enjoy people in general. I enjoy watching people, observing their behavior and learning about each and every individual’s psyche. I may enjoy playing around with them. Making them believe things that aren’t true, manipulating them into doing things for me. Remember that individual that got this whole conversation started? I had attempted to kill him for his $80 debt? Well, he had asked me for money some time after that, as he has no idea what I had in mind for him. He wanted money for pot, so I agreed, only with the promise that he should follow me to a public area. Once we had arrived, I told him to get down on his knees and bow down to me, until I said “stop”. I knew he had nowhere else to go. He was poor, and I had already made myself appear to be gullible. And that he couldn’t say why he was bowing down to me to the passersby, because marijuana is illegal. With his mouth metaphorically taped shut, and desperate (weak), I knew the long road of revenge had started. I couldn’t help myself but to cackle uncontrollably. Anyway, when all the bliss had ended, and I had caught my breath, I denied him the money. But I knew he was an idiot, and that all I had to do was tell him that drugs are bad. That I was watching out for him, and I proved to him that it was ruining his life by pointing out that he just willingly humiliated himself in exchange for weed. The damned fool would eventually get over his animosity over me, anyway. And that he did!
Zhawq: How do you define honor, and what does it mean to you?
I only live up to “Honoring” for something when it comes to romance. I have to deserve the woman before I can have an intimate relationship with her. Same goes for sex. As far as being honorable for anything else, I still don’t care.
Perhaps you’re not socially sadistic, when you use the word ‘romantic’ it could suggest that you’re a sexual sadist?
I always enjoy making people uncomfortable. Mostly through ways that are deemed “creepy” or “awkward”. For example, I rubbed one of my acquaintance’s bicep and rolled my tongue, to make that “horny purr” sound. As soon as he scooted away, I got closer to him than I initially was and said, “John, baby.” in a smooth voice. I do similar things to people I know, like hugging them out of the blue and saying, “I always knew you’d die in my arms.”. As far as physical sadism, well, not as much. In sex, I enjoy choking and biting and pinning down my partner, but I hear that that is not “outlandish” or “odd” at all. In fact, I even have some submissive preferences. Those being the same ones I enjoy doing to others. But I did, however, experiment with my emotions by choking a small dog. The owner of the dog was my aunt. I remember when she was out doing God knows what (she notified me before leaving, but I didn’t care enough to listen), that I go on with my task. I walked up to the dog, and it ran towards me, with that tongue hanging stupidly from it’s mouth, because it had recognized my scent. I attached it’s collar and held it up high (By the way, did you know that dogs make the same choking sound a human makes when being strangled? Very interesting…). I started to empathize with it, so I let it go.
Empathy, you ask? Well, it’s a strange feeling. It’s as if your control over your breath intake is no longer yours. Also, in a way, I felt like I was being choked too. But enough of that.
I dropped the dog, and started to think about what had just happened. The stupid dog didn’t seem to learn, and it went back to huffing and puffing, begging to be loved. As far as my emotions, I noticed something far off. I was remorseless. That’s all there was to it. Confused, I picked up the dog again. Immediately, I knew my emotions were less than stable. My empathy had become much more shallow. It was still there, but it just wasn’t as strong as it was before. Throughout the whole visit, I continued to choke that damn dog while my aunt’s back was turned. Until I had drained out every last drop of empathy left. That dog never seemed to learn it’s lesson, though.
Are you socially insecure and tend to avoid situation that might require you to talk or behave in a dominant manner?
Not at all. My sense of inferiority actually seems to have diminished a bit. As far as everyday people, no. I think of them as, well, unimportant. Insects. Me, on the other hand, I’m very aware that I am scum. That I wasn’t anything important. It was hell for the first time realizing it, but over time, the emotion seem to have dissipated and now, it only resides in logic. I know that I’m not deserving of life, but I just don’t care anymore.
…do you think, ‘I’m really unworthy, it’s my own fault’, or do you think ‘those bastards, THEY caused this problem to begin with, I was born for something better’?
I’m impressed. I have to say, I believe it’s their fault. The bullying, the racial slurs, etc., I believe that those are the reasons that I am how I am. I could have been normal. As for the romance thing? Well, I’m at a crossroads. On one hand, I don’t want to be weak and stupid like those little insects. On the other hand, I want to diminish enough of it to be deserving enough for a domestic life. I’m finding that I continue to grow more and more apathetic about honor, that my concern for it is diminishing. But to be honest, that seems to be more comfortable. Soon I’ll reach the culmination of indifference, and I’ll be comfortable. At home.
This one covers the entire second paragraph in your latest e-mail:
An old middle-school friend of mine. He was planning on getting the whole class together to just pick on some fat kid. What he was guilty of, I have no idea, even to this day. But what he did was getting the class together, and surround this individual. We were just spectators. The friend was the only one to speak. He said that he bet the fatass that he couldn’t do 20 sit-ups. Now, this is where it gets into details. My friend said that gathering up the class would put him on the spot, and pressure the victim into agreeing. This victim was, as you know well, less than fit. My friend bet him the only money he had, which he said he got from dealing, but then again, my friend always tried making himself seem big, even though it was blatant that he wasn’t. Well, the victim then put his money down on the desk. He tried doing the push-ups and, of course, failed. That money was put into my friend’s pocket. The victim was, of course, humiliated and scammed.
Once school had ended, I asked my friend how he knew tricks like that. That was when I was taught. He planned out many manipulation pointers and told me the correct opportunities. He told me what to say, how to say it, and what to watch for. How to be creative with my environment so I can make “big money”. After a while, I learned that I could use it for more than money. As years passed, I figured out that it was dubbed “manipulation”. With practice, I became better. I pretended to be ignorant to those around me by using an air of playfulness and naïveté . Very few people know that I’m highly intelligent. I do this because, not only does it build up more shock to those who fell prey to it, but I can’t afford to have it done to me as well. It will keep other manipulators from building up a strong, elaborate scheme, because they won’t expect me to catch on.
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‘Email Interview: Am I A Psychopath? – Part 2’ will be published tomorrow.
