Seung- Hui Cho an analysis from a "quiet kid".

 On April 16th, 2007 Seung-Hui Cho decided to carry out one of the most tragic and horrific mass shooting in United States history. He was born in South Korea, and emigrated to the united states with his family at a young age. One of the more interesting attributes, as compared to other mass shooters, was his selective mutism. I find that one of the more interesting things about Cho. As one such as I, a deemed "quiet kid" in my own respective school, have a similar attribute, to be silent. My belief is that when one is quiet, we give off a mysterious tone to others. In most instances, this mystery is only made all the more daunting to approach, when day after day we continue to be silent. The people around us, the "vocal ones" tend to be more attuned to feeling less interested in the mystery, and more weary of it. Humans are more keen to be afraid of the unknown. That is what Cho was, in my opinion. Someone always on the brink of rage, and distress. His writings speak of being fucked, and raped, tortured even. I think, he was sick of being bullied, maybe it was not bullying in a speaking of physical form, but possibly mental. It's easy to believe you're being persecuted by others, when you hardly speak or listen to people you can't help but think they see you as an inferior being. Humanity thrives on social interaction, being deprived of such starts to warp your mind. I think Cho must've been angry, his writings incite a riot, a call to arms to every person who has been angry and distraught by society's whims. I can attest to having such an emotion to revolutionize and catapult our society's downtrodden and abused people. It has been said that Cho is a narcissist, someone who sees themselves above all else. I disagree, while his writing does in fact show him to be this martyr sent by god, he himself never spoke of such things. I think Cho was simply angry, the writings and videos was his last hurrah to give society the middle finger. That doesn't go without saying it was a tragedy that his anger boiled over onto innocent lives. If he would channel his rage into an area where it would harm no one, Cho might've been alive today. Instead, he left 32 dead. If there's one thing that should be taken away from a tragedy like this, is that sometimes people break, and anger could blossom into something horrifically evil.  Here's a piece of his [Manifesto].

Growing. Seeping. Dying.

 It's currently 8:18pm. I have been reading a lot more lately. Although, what I read tends to teeter on the faucet of romance and delusional emotions that are associated with it. It's a bit childish, from my standpoint, but I enjoy it. Love is something I have yet to have an interest in, or will forever be without in my life. It does not mean that I am incapable of it, love for my fellow man, or family will always be prevalent. The thing is, when one considers love of a significant other. I am always hit with the intimacy that I feel I should never share. I remember a writer say we give a piece of ourselves to our lover, but we ask they hand over a piece of them as well. I simply am one of those who refuses to give away their piece. One can amuse the thoughts of comfort as you arrive to a home filled with their open arms. A human who will always be there for you, to hand over your thoughts and embellish your emotions with support. At the same time I cannot forget the troubles it brings, fighting with their own thoughts, working through their whims and subtleties. It's simply not enough that a significant other could offer me, that I would ever want to continue a relationship. It is simply another thing that would distance me from humanity. I scoff at traditional living, at times I find it truly pathetic. Delusional superiority only accentuated by my words to be derived by the true emotion of inferiority that pervades through my very being. To me, I am but a feeble minded insect only being trampled by the societal voices of true "reason". Why should I even consider them? Should WE consider them? Fuck them.

Today is the new Tomorrow

 Currently 9:08am. I find myself again, swayed by the thought of writing. Many days, I cannot even fathom what I would say. Yet at this time I can't help but write about my disparity between my humanity and my ever present disconnect. I have moments of pure comfort with society, laughing at the moments with enjoyment with everyone around me. These moments come and go, but there's always a lingering voice, a shadow, a wound. This small entity, shows it's face with such vigor at times. It's almost too much to bear. This face that is shown can fling and throw every moment and cause absolute chaos. It's hideous demeanor can only be seen briefly though, for too much can cause society to shun it. Too many a time I have shown it to be greeted with disgusted faces, and scoffs of disapproval. To the few that see it though, I hope that it brings comfort, for when it is comforted it flourishes. As of now, I know that these two sides can only exist if they give each other the lime light. I realize now the more I try to fit myself into a box of society, the more I tend to wince my tongue at it's sour taste. There will be a day I hope, when I can finally breathe when I can finally expand my fingers to touch life again. The only hope is that it comes soon, for all I can see is the blinding light of pure joyfulness. 

Another day

 Currently 12:23Am. I find myself in a time where everything I feel is empty. Nothing of value matters, nothing makes sense. Tonight among many nights, I feel like I'm wasting my time. Socialization makes me feel all the more lost. I realize that too much socialization makes me feel like everything moves too fast. As if I'm trying to blend in with the many others obsessed with the comforting feelings of being with each other. I keep trying to deny this thing inside my atoms. It's like I was never meant to be amongst the joyful crowds. At some point, I think, I may just quit. I would quit drowning myself in social comfort. To be true to myself means cutting off the rotting flesh of my limbs. The only purpose of socialization, should be to confidently reaffirm my idea of reality. To balance my ideas with the ideas of the unreal would be to coax mental instability, as such I should try to communicate with the living to a degree in which would be acceptable, even if it may be only but a minute of socializing. At some point, I will leave, I think and my entire online existence will be this blog. Completely personal, and never in dire need for another, I will sit here, in complete isolation. Maybe then it will bring me joy and meaning, or finally goad me into ending my pitiful existence. 

Finding comfort

 It's 12:55am It pains me to say these days hold no value to me. With November came a time to rejoice with family, and loved ones. Along with the stuffing, the turkey, warmth and comfort of living in a home, came the truly intense sadness. For as someone such as I, one cannot be comforted by the presence of family. I have this thing that makes me more than uncomfortable, with family. It's as if being near them I have to plaster this smile and take in part of their merriment. It is simply not in me, I am not of the people made with that intact. Forever I feel distant from my blood, and this is not in part of me disliking my culture, or my skin but another entirely alternative hate for the comfort of others. It's never felt 'correct'. I'm not sure if it's because of my childhood, or something I've developed in the past few years. I know for a fact though, that being near others always puts me in a mood of sadness or incorrect place. Even now, as I make online friendships, and bonds, I'm starting to have that distant echo to cut everything off. Like severing the excess fat from my hips. Snipping away at my skin, and muscle. I think as I grow older I might have a sense that I should appreciate family and friends, while I still can. I already have appreciated everything, I just don't think I could ever be happy around humanity. Society, humanity, they are simply too far from me. Too far to want to love, to far to care about, too far to truly sense them anymore. I don't know, this feeling, it's pervasive, it's enveloping, comfortable. It's completely... well... ME.

Distancing

 Currently 11:50pm. It is another night I find myself in a sea of emotion. Oh how I've missed this. It's enough to make my heart swell, my eyes water, my soul sing. I keep finding myself in this area of life where I am looking through a window at others. The older I grow, the father I stray from humanity. I think at some point, I will be in a place so far that I will no longer look through this window, the glass no longer peaking my curiosity. Is it normal I wonder? Is this a certainty that everyone who ages will come to this same conclusion? At times I wonder if my words and actions hold any meaning. I can gloat, I can praise, I can do many a thing, but it all seems meaningless. In the end, the only reasoning behind these things is the meaning that I choose to give it. I can throw a tantrum, and destroy every relationship I've ever had, throw myself into a river of traffic, and like a glimmer from a shard of glass, my life could extinguish. What does one even need the reasoning behind meaning? I think, it's because of this human need to find reasoning in existence. To have some sort of comfort in a chaotic and uncaring life. I would be lying to say I've never heard the call to the end. Regardless, it is not in my best interest to fling myself into such thoughts, there is still much to do before the end. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but the end will always be there, and to a certain degree I find comfort in it. Comfort in the day that it might finally come, and whisk me away. 

The long drive

 It was a long drive from my cabin to the city. I could feel the wind flowing through my hair, my skin slowly beginning to crawl with bumps along my arms. The whiff of grease and oil caught my nose, within seconds I could imagine the flavors all mixed with sauces in a bun. "Oh how delicious" I thought, how one could possibly make such a delectable treat. My mouth began to water at the thought. The road, winding showed no signs of progression, grassy knolls, upon grassy knolls, dead weeds upon dead weeds. I glanced around my broken metal tank, the bag filled with a meaty treat still called to me. The tank was littered with patches of clothing, some wrinkled bags, and crumbs of a forgotten taste. The putter of the engine drowned out the lingering noise of this taste, alas it reared it's head again, whispering to me, yelling at me to claw until I could no longer refuse! I halted the machine to a stop, the roar no longer whimpering in my ears. As I stretched my arms to this delicious meal, I paused a moment to check my surroundings, be it on Halloween that something would go awry in my journey to the city. Empty, all alone. No one to disturb me. I opened the brown bag to reveal the beauty sloppily sliding off of the well rounded bun. As it touched my lips, my tongue, I could not stop myself from tossing it around, the tender strings of meat tough, but all the more chewy. I slobbered for another bite until the meal was no more. I shivered with intensity, no more was this meaty beauty in this world, I could no longer taste such a marvel! A world without this? Nay! I REFUSE. Aloud I scoffed, and exited my metal home. I ran to the end of this marble made car, my keys in hand, and opened the trunk. Looking back at me, with eyes wider than the sun a young sack of flesh pleading for mercy. I couldn't help but smirk again, to think I would let such precious meat go to waste! She struggled in her bindings, but I knew all too well of how one fleshy meal could escape me. Hidden in a compartment, was my tools, the flawlessly curved blades, hacksaw, and of course ropes. I could not wait any longer, my mouth had begun to miss the taste of heavenly flesh no longer could I wait for another opportunity I would eat it THEN and THERE. So I began to hack, in and out, in and out, oh and her cries wailed into the night! Oh how she cried so! And I too cried aloud so enamored by her bleats of mercy. Oh how delicious. (Hope you had a good Halloween!)