It is not that I want to recall whatever fuck happened to my life so far. I simply want to move on. I do not want to get buckled up by my past. I do not want to ponder upon the endless permutations and combinations of directions in which my life would have headed. Now tell me you have to learn from the mistakes, what if I tell you I have never made any mistake so far. I did a lot of things in my 32 years of 'service to humanity' which includes two suicide attempts and countless broken relationships.
When I tell you that I dont care about whatever happened to me you will retort by saying that you were a different person beforehand and your life made you what you are. I object vehemently to that argument. It was my prerogative that made me the me I am. I have screwed many people's lives, most of them in a successful manner; but those who tried screwing me not only failed miserably but also had to bear my dogged perseverance when it comes to revenge. I have this habit of chasing people down to their last breath and the sadistic pleasure that I get out of suffocating them, either physically or mentally motivages me to live further in aniticipation of more violent mental images. Today, I ran over a dog. I stopped and looked back to see it still alive. I rode back and drove my old car over it thereby killing it there. The satisfaction that I derive over it is beyond description. But I want to get over it. I write this, because I am sure that someone else will read this 'intellectually simulating' article and carry the burden of satisfaction.
I do not want to remember. I just want to be myself.