The hiatus has been long.  I've languished in foolish savageries never thinking ahead well enough.  The world's a vampire that seeks to drain me but i must work around this.  I can be the king or i can be taken as a pawn, easily disposed of.  No, no that won't do at all.  I must remain the king, unchecked.  Minions get in the way, friends are a myth.  They lay as waste decaying beautifully in a colorful heap of disgust.  I've seen the watchers, they observe, they stay hidden in the distance.  How do i remain ahead if i am constantly pursued.  Death to the pursuers, that's the only way.  Always damn it, always there will be more.  I hide yet i'm never really alone.  The curse i've given to myself but what the fuck do i do now to get rid of it?  Cease what i have come to love?  No, never.

All Along Hints...

--"I don't want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard. Bone dead. Dogs in the moonlight. Get these mutts away from me. I don't find this stuff amusing anymore."--Paul Simon (Call Me Al)

Betty didn't get the chance to call anyone Al. Haha...
Well, at this point in time i reckon i'll change my perspectives a bit. The papers are starting to run a pretty damn good profile, it won't do any good to stay still and stay the same. The world moves on, so shall i. All the gods seem to be on my side but how long will good fortune hold up? The hell if i know. I must be an ever changing changling. Everyone needs to be on their toes.

A New Place to Get Lost

Discoveries are gifts from fate.

Today I happened upon an idea. It was ordinary, at least to me anyway. A few miles away from my house there's a beautiful marsh land. The airport is its neighbor, but that won't be a problem. I drove by the marsh while going down Boardman road and realized that there to the left of me sat a fine place to drop off my "acquaintances". Sure, it's not perfect, but a marsh usually reeks of death and that's what I was hoping for. We'll see how it works out for me, maybe tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow would be good.

Always Watching

I thought perhaps i should be more organized in my pursuits.

The other day on the way to my friend's trailer, i noticed a typical trollop strolling down the street. No biggy really, it is the ghetto after all. That's what lives in Jackson ghettos; whores, trollops, fools, and addicts of both genders. It's a lot like watching cartoon people go by. So predictable and so animated. This particular trollop i noticed only because she was the first white one to happen along. No, i'm not racist, just particular. I made a decision to move. No body would miss a trollop, not really anyway. Conversation was passed, introductions made, and then, well...there was a car ride. I can't say i killed her. No, that would be foolish, because this one i didn't. She did however, disappear into the night without a trace.


The body's in a well just outside of town. I can't say i care that i can't help myself stop this. Nothing to it anymore. A stabbing here, a strangulation there, nothing new. Never anything new. I don't want it, i just need it. It makes me feel alive. Such irony, don't you think? I can't even recall how many there were. Not enough i guess. Somtimes i like to think i'm not who i am, but then i think, "who else would i ever want to be?". I like what i do, at least most of the time. That's something, yup. That's definitely something, hahaha.

The Latest...

I did it. I can't really deny the fact that i have a problem now. So much to worry about. I've planned them all. I know, it's horrible, but i can't resist the urge; never could. What will come of this i'm not sure, all i know is that i'm in very deep. The cops may catch on soon, all i can do is keep moving. No one has to know what i've done. I haven't told a single person. Silence is necessary for sanity. It's also good at preventing more deaths. So many damn deaths. I'm a monster. It's just such a perfect release. No one could understand unless they've done it. Made an evil career of it even. Someday they'll find them, all i can do is hope for the better. Paranoia isn't a good friend. Far far from it in fact. What am i to do? There's no point in quitting. What would quitting really accomplish this late in the game? Just one less on a list. No, why not tally that list into the hundreds? I've nothing better to do with my time anymore. Not that i ever did really. Tomorrow? I don't know what tomorrow may bring. More death, more momentary clips of sanity, maybe even new releases. Who the hell knows?

Special Note
(This is a work of fiction as is everything in this diary. No one is really dead, no one will be dead. No crimes have really been committed.)
This is the mock diary of a serial killer. It is NOT real!