You can always choose your own adventure, so long as the outcome is line with the will of the masses. I’ve written before of how morality is often forced upon us in the media that we consume. This morality is often arbitrary and is relative to the will of the larger population. Psychopaths may have bloodlust – of this, I am firmly convinced – but many do not act on the violent imagery that goes through our heads. What harm is there in anyone, psychopath or neurotypical, in exploring such bloodlust in the realm of fiction? Surely this is not a desire that is limited to the psychopath, for violent video games and movies often dominate. I am often ruffled by the forced decision in media to embrace that which is “good” or “pure.” I want to, more often than not, embrace those violent images that I cannot act on but desperately want to see play out. I want to be able to enjoy my media as I enjoy my dark imaginings. What does this matter? If I am not hurting anyone, which I am not and will not, then why can’t I play out the lurid scenes that reside in my head?
If I go to the well frequently enough, I must dip my bucket further into the shaft to alleviate my thirst. This is my relationship with the macabre. I am convinced that the overwhelming majority of psychopaths have bloodlust even if they may not act on them – and, hopefully, they do not. I am no different. However, I do not fear crossing the line into battery or worse. I fear being paralyzed by these unwanted and intrusive thoughts. In order to quiet my mind – and engage in a bit of pleasure seeking behavior – I seek out the macabre at every chance that I can. Am I doing more damage than good, however?
After the diagnosis of Antisocial Personality Disorder and confirmation of psychopathy, I found myself wondering if the diagnosis and confirmation were correct. I suppose some doubt will always remain in my mind as I am highly skeptical of everything and highly analytical by nature. Such doubts are exacerbated by the fact that I don’t necessarily feel disordered and that my only frame of references comes from behind these two eyes. Sure, I wish I hadn’t spent 100’s of thousands of dollars on useless shit or fucked myself sideways with drugs and I wish that I could hold some goal for the future, but don’t we all? My activities and proclivities have only landed me in jail once and I don’t plan on returning. Isn’t that just part of the human condition and struggle? I no longer feel a need to prove anything to myself; uncertainty will always linger. However, many do and they fade faster than any falling star.
I’m hungry and I need to feed. I’m thirsty and I need a drink. I’m idle and I need to act. The life of the successful psychopath is full of frustration; we know that there are lines that cannot be crossed no matter how compelled we feel to drive further. God knows I want to bludgeon someone out of a combination of boredom and / or hate. Devil knows I need a drink, that all too familiar numbness has been gone for far too long. I want to lash out, and I want to destroy. I know that I can’t. I don’t know that I won’t, though.
Violence sells well these days. We sit glued to our televisions and to our theater chairs watching the latest and greatest dismemberment or murder. Violent books line the shelves of our bookstores and violent headlines are front and center on our newspapers. We live in an age in which all are expected to stay riveted to such sensationalism. And, you know what, it works. Violent images are made for violent minds.