Am I a Monster? It's Just a Matter of Perspective
*A note to lazy voyeurs: this post is rather long, relatively speaking*
If you saw me or met me, you'd probably think that I was just a "good kid", maybe even a "goody-two-shoes". I've actually been told that I am "sweet". People see me as sympathetic, shy, friendly, and intelligent. I make good impressions on people without even intending to. I'm a virgin, don't drink, swear, smoke, gamble, get high, and don't have so much as a traffic ticket to my name. The world sees me as an equivalent of "Sandra D".
What they don't see the person behind the face and below the skin. I can get people to do or say almost anything I want them to, within reason, and think it was their idea. I can get them into believing or thinking what I want them to, again with reason, without them noticing. I can charm, manipulate, lie, and fake easily and inconspicuously.
People turn to me when they want someone to just talk to. I am a "good listener" and "sympathetic". I do so because people spill all sorts of information that may or may not come in handy later. I don't actually feel the emotions I convey.
Actually, I spend more time wondering if I feel anything than determining what I do feel. I have hardly any emotions, if any, but can fake them well. The people who are my "friends" are not actually so. I don't really connect with anyone at all. I just put on the face most suitable for the situation, and adapt quickly to my environment.
I sometimes muse, more out of curiosity than anything, what it would be like to kill or torture someone. I imagine not only the set up and minute details necessary for it to occur, but also the actual perpetration of the actions. I daydream about doing so.
I have a hidden persona that some might consider "bad". I have seen others who exhibit similar characteristics labeled "monsters". It bothers me not. "Good" and "bad", with all other labels, are just so- words applied to those who differ, mere constructs created by society that are highly relative. “Conscience” is simply the distillation of instilled prejudices that echo traditional reiterations of beliefs passed between like-minded persons and their offspring. Reality, not what is seen through a glass, darkly, by the human mind, is not governed by such restrictions.
I have posted this as almost an experiment, the intent of which is twofold. Primarily, it is intended to serve as a foray into the realm of “what if”, to see potential reactions to be expected if my mask should slip. Secondly, it an exploration into my own persona. I have heard that admission of secrets is a relief, and the transcribing of this is an experiment as to whether confession elicits any sort of feelings of remorse, guilt or relief in me. It has not done so.
TL, DR version: I present a face which is not mine to the world. I hide a manipulative, narcissistic, emotionless, disdainful persona with a penchant for what some may label malicious activities behind a likeable, mostly unnoticed façade. I don’t feel bad about it.
Am I a monster? Perhaps, it’s all relative. And frankly, I don’t really care. And so, the latter portion of my aforementioned experiment upon which this post is based has been resolved; the former is for which I now post this.