GOD.

The most Divine Perfection on the planet. The God && Living Deity.

[psychopathperfection]

Holy shit, I cannot stand it. You have such rudimentary thinking it’s infuriating, but don’t try to infect me with your inability to understand simple fucking concepts.

[psychopathperfection]

Never, ever, ever believe in anyone else first. Never think they will be there ‘for’ you, to help you, or save you. People behave as if it’s untrue and immoral, but everyone is out to satisfy themself above all. Never believe false claims such as solidarity, or that you are more important than them. It’ll bite you back in the ass and then you’ll be pissy for ages.

[psychopathperfection]

I feel a pit in my chest. Like it's a physical hole. It feels disgusting. It hurts, it feels like I am missing my organs. I feel like shit. I feel like shit and I don't care about it. I don't care. I feel a pit in my chest. I feel disgusting. It's so empty it feels like shit. I feel like shit. I might take a nap.

[psychopathperfection]

the person that said you're faking your diagnosis has a pinned post saying they're dating their twin brother lmaooooooooo

What, seriously?? I did not venture to look at their blog deeply, but getting yelled at then blocked by some incest lover was not on my bingo card for today LMFAAOOO

[psychopathperfection]

Why did the person claiming I’m faking my diagnosis block me..?? LMFAO I thought I was supposed to be the one to block them, is this not how attempting to insult someone works?

Much love to paradisisland though, your comments were a little strange but they don’t necessarily change what is reality. Apologies I am not ASPD enough for you, lol.

[psychopathperfection]

It’s taking everything in me not to badmouth HR, again. Fucks sake. Leave me the hell alone, I already told you to get off my ass in the corporate way, you don’t want to hear me say it any other way. Leave me the fuck alone. I despise illiterate people.

[psychopathperfection]

Every throttle gives this exciting rush of adrenaline. Everytime I rev it, it sounds better than the last time. The faster I go, the more alive I feel. The more alive I feel, the more I want to chase it. I could be sick right now thinking about how empty I am, how only things that give me any excitement fills it for a moment. I just need it always. I need more thrill, I meed more attention, I need more adoration, I need more head, I need more noise, I need more late nights speeding, I need more laws to break and I need my heart in my throat from the jittering feeling of how nice it is to feel alive for once. I want to feel alive forever.

[psychopathperfection]

I feel so hollow. I really can understand why many others go to such extremes to satiate this feeling. It's disgusting. A nasty, horrid pit in my body that I cannot fill with anything, that only wants to grow larger and make me nauseous. It's so horrible. It feels horrible. I'm so sick. I'm so sick of this. I should die. I should OD again.

[psychopathperfection]

I've gotten mad for the last... handful of days. I don't remember how long it's been. I'm so bothered. HR is so annoying. I keep watching movies about obsession and stalkers, and it's hot. I keep replaying when the girls scream and cry, it's so fascinating. They're so terrified.

Objectively though, the movies are total trash.

[psychopathperfection]

Fucking hell, you’re stupid. Genuinely stupid, do you think? Do you have any way of retaining information or is your brain functionally useless? Have mercy, it’s unbelievable. Like I’m talking to some braindead piece of shit lying in a hospital bed.

[psychopathperfection]

When I say, “I cannot imagine how you must feel.” I do mean it exactly like that. You can vent to me all you please but I cannot imagine how it must feel. I cannot imagine how it affects you, hurts you, changes you, or sways you. I can’t imagine how it must feel. I can’t and thus I cannot even feel bad for you. I just cannot, and I can’t help it. I can’t even understand those close to me who are hurt by my actions, how it must feel. I don’t know. It’s a mystery to me how it must feel to feel how you feel.

[psychopathperfection]

have you seen the movie Crash (1996)?

No, I haven't, though the synopsis looks wonderful. I certainly want to watch it.

[psychopathperfection]

HR has been up my ass about this stupid dress code bullshit. It’s so annoying, leave me the hell alone. How I dress does nothing to you.

[psychopathperfection]

I have everything and nothing to say at the same time.

[psychopathperfection]

I got out of my car and almost immediately passed out. What a damn shame.

[psychopathperfection]

I am a husk of a man. I am a perfect God, though. I step foot in my car and then I have spent someone’s weekly paycheck. It doesn’t make much of a dent, but I wasn’t supposed to do that. I feel nothing for it. I have no excitement for the material goods sitting in my passengers seat. I want to gut myself in the middle of the sidewalk and see how many people ask if I’m crazy. It’s so empty even when it isn’t at its worst. I feel inhuman. I am not human.

[psychopathperfection]

It is astonishing, to wade around my feet like an insect begging for scraps of attention. I already gave it to you. Go finger yourself to the things I say if you’re that desperate, but never expect me to indulge in your degeneracy again.

I cannot fathom how people like this have made it any further in life. They provide nothing. Heaven help me.