I have edited this for you and am sure you will appreciate this....
I am a man, I am intelligent, I am a person, I am kind, I am patient, I am loving.
I am cold, I am calculating, I am a liar, I am selfish, I am a person, I am emotional no one knows i am a killer.
What follows no-one will ever know or suspect, it is secret and hidden and more to the point, I am normal, adjusted, strong, and in control as all serial killers are.
When I am alone, and unfortunately, although rarely, when I am not i can feel the murder squad hunting me down like the dog i am.
I feel the feeling, all that blood welling up like a warm ocean, pushing up through me towards the back of my eyes just waiting to spill out like a wave of shimmering mist. Music, emotion, a memory, it's as if these things lower a hook deep inside and pull out from those depths the most beautiful thing ever felt, and then I cry, or fight back the tears as i know i have to kill again and again.
Tears of emotion not sadness. Emotion for everything, everything beautiful, which is everything except my hellbound soul.
For a brief moment, emotion for this existence rules me, and then it is gone only temporarly and I'm left cold, just wishing for the slaughter again, nothing else matters. I know it will come again, I can feel the beginning and then it flows, like a drug, why can I not feel this all the time? I'm shattered, broken, like a cracked vase remaining in one piece, whole but not whole till i dismember again and then the feeling of sweet solitude is almost orgasmic....almost pure solitude.....
I'm not a writer, I'm not a poet. I am an artist, a painter in blood and human bodily fluids and the street floor is my canvas. Am i a day dreamer ? Perhaps the most emotional day dreamer in existence based on what I can see, which isn't a lot. This is a call to all who may read this. Are we all the same? Does this happen to you? Am i as sane as i think i am ?