Can I borrow yours?
Now, this post is about something that fascinates me. Serial killers.
There are a larger number of females interested and fascinated by serial killers than males. To the point of writing mail, sending pictures, MARRYING them.
I am not THAT into it. But I LOVE reading every minute detail of their crimes, I love the photos and crime scenes. I love to hear their rantings and ravings, if they do that (unless its Charles Manson because he bores me to tears), or the reasons they give that motivated them to their crimes.
Serial killers can and cannot do a lot of things. Laws are in place so they cant profit from anything. That is totally justified in my view.
I dont think the victims families should make too much profit either.
In the documentary listed below, Serial Killer Culture, that ground is covered. It is the MEDIA and the local officials that boost the victims and families into trying to cash in on tragedies.
But, back on point…why are women so interested in these broken people? Granted, in some ways, some serial killers act in ways of pure genius. Its their egos that bring them down.
Personally, my own facination comes from my darkness within. All those sordid little secrets and fantasies. I dont act on them, but I do have the capacity. We’ve discussed my mental illnesses before. I have the ability to turn things off and on like a light switch. If I cant grasp an emotion, or proper response to something, I will fake it.
Oddly enough, I am more touched by cruelty to animals than I am to things like man against man, child abuse and the like. Animals are sacred to me. People are not.
Does this make me sound like a horrible person? I’m not, really. I am friendly, I can be caring. I just dont know how to react sometimes. But oh my god, do not show me someone hurting an animal. Be it a bird, cat, dog or even a mouse. When Fat Cat caught a mouse, she never killed it…she brought it to me. I’d take the little thing outside and set it free. Sure, an owl probably snatched it up as soon as I went back inside, but thats nature. Mother Nature is the only pure and acceptable, and perfect, serial killer.
The world is overpopulated. The governments are greedy and corrupt. There is hatred and loathing and apathy planet wide. People just plain suck in my opinion.
A person can be great. A small group can be fun. In masses they can be idiots.
I can see why some killers do the things they do. I can see their way of looking at things.
There are so many reasons behind every killer, however. Carl Panzram hated humanity. Charles Manson wanted to be, well, God, in a way. Jeffrey Dahmer wanted someone to love him and NEVER leave…but he also wanted them compliant to the point of death. H.H Holmes was a genius, educated and crafty. He wanted to be rich, and enjoyed the act of killing. He managed to do both for a time.
Spree killers are no fun to me. Rampage killers.
Serials killers are different. They are methodical. They rest. They plan. They repeat. However, they get sloppy.
Some of them, such as Ted Bundy, have a charm about them. Its easy to see, by his looks and charm, why women would be fascinated with him, even knowing what he did to all those young girls.
How anyone could fall in love with the likes of Charles Manson is beyond me. I am chalking it up to drugs. It cant be real, and if it is, W.T.F..
So, how many here can say they are fascinated with serial killers. Not just what you read or see on television, but actually buy the books, see the movies, get your grubby little hands on the FBI’s profile of the subject?
There used to be a wonderful site that I’d spend hours on…thecrimelibrary.com. Its gone now, or changed address. If its moved, I’d love to find it again.
Now, on with the film part of this writing.
Director John Borowski has a love of serial killers, and has made it the focal point of most of his films. Biographical documentaries.
I know this is a thing with some people. Not with me though. I mean, I just never look at the clock that much, and cant even remember when I’ve ever seen it on 11:11. Besides, that would be a 12 hour thing, and I tend to do the military time thing, so I’d only actually see 11:11 in the AM. I’m doing things, just dont pay attention.I also dont believe in wishes much. Its the eternal pessimist in me.
I honestly go for the plain, with the amazing personality. I’m no trying to sound mean or against what is considered ‘beautiful’, but those who are, and know it, usually tend to be a bit shallow. I mean, come on, even in our 40’s and 50’s when all of us gather in a gaggle, we all turn in on this high school mentality again for some strange reason. ‘The cool kids’ whatnot.I am no raving beauty, but I dont find myself ugly either. I’ve been told I am ‘humble’, and I am perfectly fine with that. I know my flaws, and I also know its in MY hands whether to change those flaws or not.Some people who look or seem perfect are not. While on the outside, they are perfect and everyone wishes they were like them, on the inside that can be very ugly.So, yes, give me a nice plain guy with an amazing personality any day. Looks fade. Personality is what matters. A persons personality only gets richer with time. Looks just leave and you get sagging and all those perfections erode away.
Turn ons:CatsPeople who love catsBig trucks and SUVsMens forearms. I dunno why. I find them sexy.CatsCoffeeTalking about cats and coffeeHaving someone I can sit in total silence with and it not be awkwardA great smile.Being alone. I am one of those people who is perfectly content being cut off from the outside world (as far as interacting with others). Give me high speed internet, my Rig or Laptop, my cat and my coffee and thats all I need.
Turn offs:Bad hygeneBad teethChewing with mouth openBeards…facial hair period…dont like it much. It looks nice on quite a few guys that are sexy, just dont touch me with it.Loud vehicles/motocycles: There is no reason on this earth I need to hear your vehicle/motorcycle from 2 miles away.Children/babiesDogsReligious fanatics/bible thumpersPoliticsMy coffee being too bitterGreen Bell PeppersPretty much people in general, but you all knew that.
This is an incomplete story. I had started it a while back, in one of my games, but the game itself went under since no one was playing it. So, I never really got the chance to finish the story. This is another one I will probably revisit if I could remember the original theme. Its wasnt quite vampires, it was something out of the ordinary (for me at least), so, hopefully I’ll remember and can get this going as a small little series of sorts.
All I could think about was to keep running, keep hiding, and keep Gennifer safe. Something dreadful had happened, and I’m still trying to put the bits and pieces together, but with all this tiring running, constant hiding, and Gens unstoppable babble is splitting my head in two.
I drop to my knees, pulling Gennifer along with me, pressing my back against the wall taking deep breaths. My lungs feel funny. I feel like I’m just gulping air, and it’s doing nothing.
“He said we wouldn’t have to do that anymore, if we just accepted him. He said he really likes us…I guess on kinda that we’re twinnies. I liked him, I don’t know why you were so mean, why you fought. Gessy, I always say your mean streak gets us nowheres.”
I looked to Gennifer. Sweet Genny. We’re twins. Though something happened in the womb. It would appear I was dominant, taking all the nutrients for development. I was a big, well-formed baby. Poor Genny was so little. And her brain just never developed right. Her body grew up and out though. We are identical. We choose to live the identical lifestyle as well. Most of the time we dress the same, do our hair the same, etc. . . . But still…you can tell who is who. Genny is all soft, like a little lost dove. I have a harder edge to me. My ‘mean streak’ as Genny calls it.
And it appears my mean streak got us in a tussle or something tonight. Bits and pieces are coming back. I looked silently over at my sister, hoping she’ll talk, tell me what my mind is missing in current events.
Genny just crossed her arms and looked away. “I *wanted* to go with the man. He was nice and friendly. The man made you nervous though, and you know what you get like…all mean and grouchy. You hit him, hard.” Genny paused, looking around them at the graffiti walls. “You beat the shit out of him Gessy. It was only after he couldn’t get up that something stopped you. He whispered to you, I dunno what he said. Then the next thing I know is you screamed out and fell down, all this blood gushing from someplace. I got scared, I hid under a table.” Gennifer put her face down, embarrassment shown clear in the crimson stain across her cheeks. “I think I pee’d myself. I got so scared. But then the he came to me, touched my face all nice. He made me feel okay. He whispered things to me, I don’t really understand what…but there is a place we have to go to, to see him again. I wanna go, I know where to go.” Genny quieted once again.
“I feel funny, like I took drugs or something…did they give me drugs Genny?” I asked my little, by 3 minutes, sister.
Gennifer shook her head to her twin. “No, no drugs. And after you beat the man up, he just got back up again. I told you that. I was scared Gessy…I was hiding…but when he was gone, I came back out for you. You were all covered in blood and your neck was all gross and hanging open. I cried and cried. I lay down beside you because I didn’t know what to do…who would take care of me?” Genny was getting teary on me…when she got teary, she got whiney.
I moved and put my arm around her. “There, there. I’m here. But how am I here?” Gessica looked down at her clothing. Sure enough, they were covered in dried blood.
“You started moving, like, in your sleep. Your throat and neck just got better, even though there was blood everywhere. And you just opened your eyes, grabbed me, and we started running. I wanna go back to find that man Gessy. He’s a magical being or something. I can feel it deep inside me…you know my ‘feelin’s are usually spot on. I got a feelin’ bout this man. Maybe he can help us and we could have a for real home!” Genny spouted.
I put my hand on her thigh. “Settle down, Gen. You said this man did something to me and when you looked, my throat was all cut open? So not sure I want to find someone like that again.”
Gennifer suddenly stood up, her blue crystalline eyes shimmering. “That’s just it Gessica! We HAVE to go to him…he did something to you, and you need him now, and what he did, I want it too! YOU started this Gessica, you hafta make it right!”
Whoa…referring to me as ‘Gessica’. She only does that when she’s in an eerie state of clarity and feeling mature. And angry. I get up, brushing my behind off.
I put my hands up, stepping closer to my sister gently. “Okay Gennifer…okay. We’ll do what you want. And…Maybe this guy will find us sooner. Something is happening to me Genny…I smell things different. Hear and see things different.”
My sister just looked at me with her big beautiful eyes, waiting for me to go on.
“I can hear…smell…almost taste…the blood coursing through you…”