Torsion

Angel or demon, pure or poisoned air, I can be anything that I’d like to be. I have free will even if my proclivities may attempt to lead me in a certain direction. I do not have an internal struggle related to conscience, but the struggle inside that deals with incentive is all but the same. There are many like me, whose internal torsion is all but invisible to the outside world. We drift along a rocky road constantly courting disaster, peace, and everything in between. Too few appreciate such a battle between light and dark, ruin and prosperity.

The past few weeks have been especially trying. Listless and nearly lifeless, all my life needs – it seems – is an antisocial spark to make everything interesting again. Violence has been bubbling beneath the surface and a large part of me wants to lash out in chaotic desperation. I lose no sleep over such antisocial desires but I know that the violent psychopathic state that resides between my ears must stay there. There simply is little to gain for the longterm if I act out. That does not mean I don’t want to, however.

Hervey Cleckley referred to this state as being latent to ‘insufficiently motivated antisocial behavior.’ There is no immediate gain for me to lash out. I simply want to. The means are the end. I want a spark in my life, and I want some excitement in these bones. Thus I contort. I know that I would lose it all if I act in certain ways or with certain surroundings. The calculus is flawed. The weight assigned to self-satisfaction for a moment of deceit or violence cannot be considered.

My therapist and I have spent countless hours as of late watching these desires and impulses. We seek to ensure that they remain beneath the surface – and I am confident that they will remain there, as I’ve undergone such struggle many times before – and unobservable to the outsider. Everyone wants some action in their life, and many would love to be part of such chaos, but the compulsion is especially strong for the psychopath. Demon nor angel are on my shoulders, but Reason still lies between my ears. I choose to heed Reason’s call and so I twist some more. Give me some credit; I’m much more attuned to such a human struggle than most, even if I am more susceptible to its call.

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