Name: Anonymous 2006-11-12 22:39
Dearest /lounge/,
I'm afraid I may be going mad.
It started the day after I moved into my apartment, more then 3 months ago. Whenever I enter my bathroom, no matter what previous thoughts were on my mind, the following sentence, in my own voice, fills my head:
"It's simple really, just kill everyone" (emphasis more on 'everyone' then on 'kill', as if killing less than everyone was considered just as casually, yet ultimately deemed insufficient.)
Granted, I hold a moderate distain for humanity, like any /b/tard, but I would never seriously consider ever taking anyone's life, let alone everyone (self included?).
At first, I thought it a mere random impulse, a fleeting mental image of violence, that even the most passive of minds occasionally happen upon. Surely just one of thousands of half conceived pictures that passes through one's mind every hour...
Yet it persists, and deeply disturbs.
The thought itself manifests under several peculiar conditions;
When I touch the doorknob if the door to the bathroom is closed,
When I pass through the frame when the door is open,
And when I accidentally brush past the door whilst passing by.
Over the first few months, the thought came like a bout of deja vu, "Haven’t I thought this her before? Probably not...” Only recently have I begun to recognize and classify individual occurrences.
Considering myself still of rational mind, I took it upon myself to test this phenomena. I hold no delusions that my bathroom is haunted, or any similar nonsense. I would enter the room with the intention of overriding the thought via mantra recitation or occupying my mind with a challenging mathematical calculation. However, and this is at this point per chance merely power of suggestion, my mind inevitably draws up those six chilling words.
Knowing that it would be impossible to test the room myself without corrupting the test (thinking about it solely due to attempting not to think about it, like trying to think an erection away), I decided another subject was necessary. Enlisting my unwitting roommate, I asked him to fetch some aspirin from my medicine cabinet, under the guise that a migraine rendered me unable to get it myself. He obliged, yet showed no outward signs of personal disturbance. His expression the same as when he entered. Granted, this is by no means a scientific examination, however bluntly asking my roommate if my bathroom projects homicidal-consultation may serve to land me in a funny farm whether my restroom is indeed paranormal or not.
At this point, I am lead to only one conclusion . . . I am losing my mind, and most infuriatingly, I am aware of, yet helpless to curve, this fact.
It may be as simple as self-loathing; at least this is one of my hypotheses. The bathroom is in essence a room where one confronts his flaws. Nowhere is shame of imperfection greater. However I have always been rather satisfied with myself. I don’t pretend to be anywhere near perfect, but I certainly don’t see my imperfections as reason enough to eliminate my peers.
Perhaps it is a satirical "final solution" that my brain proposes as I enter the restroom, taking a break from serious thought. If the equation is too difficult, you can always multiply both sides by zero (or divide in our case.).
Obviously, I’m not satisfied with either of these explanations... I'm not sure if there even is a means to explain-away these thoughts of mine... but if I cant abate them, I feel I must at least know why...
I'm afraid I may be going mad.
It started the day after I moved into my apartment, more then 3 months ago. Whenever I enter my bathroom, no matter what previous thoughts were on my mind, the following sentence, in my own voice, fills my head:
"It's simple really, just kill everyone" (emphasis more on 'everyone' then on 'kill', as if killing less than everyone was considered just as casually, yet ultimately deemed insufficient.)
Granted, I hold a moderate distain for humanity, like any /b/tard, but I would never seriously consider ever taking anyone's life, let alone everyone (self included?).
At first, I thought it a mere random impulse, a fleeting mental image of violence, that even the most passive of minds occasionally happen upon. Surely just one of thousands of half conceived pictures that passes through one's mind every hour...
Yet it persists, and deeply disturbs.
The thought itself manifests under several peculiar conditions;
When I touch the doorknob if the door to the bathroom is closed,
When I pass through the frame when the door is open,
And when I accidentally brush past the door whilst passing by.
Over the first few months, the thought came like a bout of deja vu, "Haven’t I thought this her before? Probably not...” Only recently have I begun to recognize and classify individual occurrences.
Considering myself still of rational mind, I took it upon myself to test this phenomena. I hold no delusions that my bathroom is haunted, or any similar nonsense. I would enter the room with the intention of overriding the thought via mantra recitation or occupying my mind with a challenging mathematical calculation. However, and this is at this point per chance merely power of suggestion, my mind inevitably draws up those six chilling words.
Knowing that it would be impossible to test the room myself without corrupting the test (thinking about it solely due to attempting not to think about it, like trying to think an erection away), I decided another subject was necessary. Enlisting my unwitting roommate, I asked him to fetch some aspirin from my medicine cabinet, under the guise that a migraine rendered me unable to get it myself. He obliged, yet showed no outward signs of personal disturbance. His expression the same as when he entered. Granted, this is by no means a scientific examination, however bluntly asking my roommate if my bathroom projects homicidal-consultation may serve to land me in a funny farm whether my restroom is indeed paranormal or not.
At this point, I am lead to only one conclusion . . . I am losing my mind, and most infuriatingly, I am aware of, yet helpless to curve, this fact.
It may be as simple as self-loathing; at least this is one of my hypotheses. The bathroom is in essence a room where one confronts his flaws. Nowhere is shame of imperfection greater. However I have always been rather satisfied with myself. I don’t pretend to be anywhere near perfect, but I certainly don’t see my imperfections as reason enough to eliminate my peers.
Perhaps it is a satirical "final solution" that my brain proposes as I enter the restroom, taking a break from serious thought. If the equation is too difficult, you can always multiply both sides by zero (or divide in our case.).
Obviously, I’m not satisfied with either of these explanations... I'm not sure if there even is a means to explain-away these thoughts of mine... but if I cant abate them, I feel I must at least know why...