Untitled(The Trees Looked Like Basalt Lava)
UncategorizedY can’t see this woman’s face.
She talks and talks. She talks like a man who is a woman. Ordinarily Y likes to overhear but he wants to shut the voice off like a television set.
She talks over at and under. We don’t know her name. Only when the police find her will we know until then we call her G. She has everyone’s attention. Y wants her attention.
She won’t give it to me because she doesn’t know me.
Y is like the man on the periphery that plans his murder. He knows when to shut down
not to get hurt or to get taken in by the police. He has a team of lawyers and yes men.
Y doesn’t like how G talks about her adopted sister. Y likes anyone who is different.
He likes this woman because she has a penis. He would like to talk to her about her adopted sister. He would like for her to have more compassion for her situation.
It is painful not being able to relate to others. Why is it that well adapted folk are so
hateful or so understanding to the point of defacing anyone who is different?
I don’t know what security she has on the internet, G said. She’s at a young age to be a seeing stuff like that. I don’t respond. I don’t want her to be ashamed. I don’t think I started till I was 13. When I was 9 I was in a kids world. I want to give you a heads up. I
G is someone who can talk. Y’s mother talked and talked to Y about her pain and then when there was someone else she talked to them about their pain.
Y would like to get to know her, but he will lose interest before he does. He really wants to have her.
I was out of the house. She was adopted. I didn’t know her and I don’t know. My parents thought she is autistic. I think she is a sociopath a hundred percent. I did research.
I made my diagnosis. She’s a sociopath one hundred percent.
She was kicked out of school for hitting kids. They saw her do weird shit.
She’s a 100 percent sociopath. I did my diagnosis. When they learn to fake the feelings they don’t have is when they are a sociopath.They only have anger. They don’t have impulse control. She wants everything now. She is extremely smart. She doesn’t communicate well. She doesn’t ask anything about my life, only when she wants something does she approach me. She’s never interested in anyone else. She doesn’t communicate. She mimics behaviour. She is supposed to. She knows what she is supposed to say, no sincerity. She has one friend at a time. She doesn’t understand family relationships. My brother and I are close to each other. She told my brother we should get married, we should kiss. She doesn’t understand it. She doesn’t feel it. She doesn’t know. She sent mea google picture of two people kissing.She’s aware she wants to put on make up. She does weird stuff. She sees Connor and I have significant others over. She sees acts from other people. She mimics it. She doesn’t know what she is supposed to do. She does weird stuff. She lit a candle under a bed sheet really weird stuff. I don’t know what goes on in her mind. She gets what she wants. She’s very smart. Sneaks her way around things. She has weird memory. She remembers numbers that have no reason, weird interesting. She has a great sense of direction. Specific ways of doing shit. She has no impulse control. One time she chased a deer and followed it. She just mimics people. She memorized certain parts of conversations. You can tell how she says things. As soon as you ask her questions about her life she is like why are you asking. There is nothing she has to share. She doesn’t make any connections to anyone. There is nothing there. I thought she was autistic but she isn’t.
They give her medications. Theres degrees of everything. She is a certain degree of sociopath. My dad was angry when I said that. He can only deal with so much reality. She stole something from the airport. She spit in my face. I lost my shit. I only have so much patience with children. I chased her down and held her down and spat on her. She has no connection to anything. She doesn’t feel anything and she is weird looking too. She is freakishly tall. She is nine and she is five nine. She has no empathy. She needs to be taught empathy manually.
Y has been following G for sometime. She is self involved and industrious and never
notices him. His plan is to take her in his Honda truck to Mount Tabor. He loves the
idea of an urban Volcano.
G’s skirt was pulled down to her knees. She wasn’t able to see from her left eye that had blood in it. Y kissed her navel and squeezed her penis and scrotum. She broke free and made a run the public bathroom, her penis looked like a sore thumb.
The trees looked like basalt lava.
Y had a hard time thinking. His eyes hurt. He reminded himself he had to get new glasses. He was getting the headaches he used to have. He hadn’t had intercourse in
a year. He had a huge erection. He yanked at it. It felt useful. He hit the steering wheel and hit the horn.
Y doesn’t feel anger. He feels benevolent. He shot her in the mouth with a caliber 38 revolver.