martes, 2 de agosto de 2011

I am a murderer...I have VIH and I don’t use condoms when I have sex.

It’s really interesting. I live right next door to you and you hardly even notice me. We walk past each other and say hello. Sometimes, I play futbol with your son. I wonder if you’d let me do that if you knew I was a murderer.I never really started out to be a murderer. I actually wanted to be a teacher. But after the first time; after I did the deed and walked away from it, it wasn’t difficult at all to do it again. In fact, I enjoyed every moment I spent killing. It was…..exciting.

Who do I kill?
How do I determine who will be my next victim?

Well, since I’m a murderer and not an assassin, luck and opportunity play a large part.
Oh, did that statement offend you? Well, every group of people has a pecking order, and we do to.

For me, it’s like going to a buffet. The world is the largest buffet I’ve ever seen and the choice is absolutely marvelous. But like buffets, sometimes you’ll find baked chicken instead of fried chicken, or ham instead of roast beef. It’s the same way with murder.

Sometimes, the one you choose is not exactly what you had in mind but your choice will still fill your hunger.So like a buffet, I look over what’s available and then I choose. Tonight, I chose the beef. He was a muscular man. He probably thought he was better than most, stronger than most, that he could take care of himself. And I laughed to myself. No one can stop me. No one. When I decide that I’m going to do the deed and kill you, the odds are at least 98 percent that you will die. The other 2 percent? Just luck. Nothing more, nothing less. But, if I choose you out of this marvelous buffet of human choices, you can bet that you will probably be dead, and you’ll die knowing who did it to you.So I approach the piece of beef that I have chosen. He’s actually a very nice piece of beef, too.

I look at him and then look around. He appears to be the best selection in this section of the human buffet. And just like with a piece of meat, I scoop him up and take him with me.I take him to my “table”, the place where I decided to murder him. I toy with him for a considerable period of time. After a period of exquisite torture, a period where I bring his heart beat to an abnormally high rate and cause him to breathe shallowly and raggedly, where I can see his eyes go wide and dilate, I stab him with my favorite and personal tool. Usually from behind. That way I don’t have to look at his face. And, I bite him. Now you know that I have a fetish in the method I kill people. So what if you know, you’re not important to me. And I stab him again, and again, 20 times, sometimes as many as 50 or 60 times. And then I’m through. I back away from him. I leave him lying there, dying. I don’t say a thing to him, maybe I smirk at him just to let him know that I enjoyed what I did to him, but then I just walk away. My hunger is satisfied, for now. But I’ll want to murder again pretty soon. That’s just the way I am.In another day or two, I’ll be hungry to murder again. And that beautiful human buffet will never run out of choices of delicious, tantalizing meat.

I am a murderer...I have VIH and I don’t use condoms when I have sex...
Hmmmm, you look delicious…!
Pride Center - Quito

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