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Today, I was severely peed off.
It's a lot worse than "peed", but this damned filter won't allow such extensive descriptions. I won't go into detail into as to how or why I was "peed off", but all I'm saying is, is that I was angry.
Anyway, I was seething.
I needed to do something that would release this fury. This anger building up within my mind. I whipped out my copy of Unreal Tournament. Yes, this would do. I could seek the enemy. I could destroy them.
Make them suffer. The enemy is merely a digital existence, nothing more, nothing less, yet for some reason, as soon as I started, I felt satisfied that I could release anger towards this.
It made me feel better.
But then.
I stopped.
I thought more about this certain scenario.
Why?
That's right. Why.
Why was I being satisfied through the idea that I was making another entity suffer, making them feel pain?
The pain was imaginiative, of course. It wasn't real. But it was the feeling, the idea that it being hurt.
What I mean is, I was angry, severely angry. I wanted to hurt something.
I did just that.
I felt better.
It's a savage characteristic of the human instinct.
I thought about it more.
I was happy, because I was hurting something badly.
I then stopped playing Unreal Tournament.
It's a strange thing.
I find it hard to really put the point that I want to across, as I'm not a trained writer, poet or whatever.
So some of you may not understand fully what I'm trying to say. Hell, neither do I really, but I'll try and put it simply.
Hurting other humans, just the same as me, made me feel good. It pleasured me. I then thought about it. I then stopped.
It's a lot worse than "peed", but this damned filter won't allow such extensive descriptions. I won't go into detail into as to how or why I was "peed off", but all I'm saying is, is that I was angry.
Anyway, I was seething.
I needed to do something that would release this fury. This anger building up within my mind. I whipped out my copy of Unreal Tournament. Yes, this would do. I could seek the enemy. I could destroy them.
Make them suffer. The enemy is merely a digital existence, nothing more, nothing less, yet for some reason, as soon as I started, I felt satisfied that I could release anger towards this.
It made me feel better.
But then.
I stopped.
I thought more about this certain scenario.
Why?
That's right. Why.
Why was I being satisfied through the idea that I was making another entity suffer, making them feel pain?
The pain was imaginiative, of course. It wasn't real. But it was the feeling, the idea that it being hurt.
What I mean is, I was angry, severely angry. I wanted to hurt something.
I did just that.
I felt better.
It's a savage characteristic of the human instinct.
I thought about it more.
I was happy, because I was hurting something badly.
I then stopped playing Unreal Tournament.
It's a strange thing.
I find it hard to really put the point that I want to across, as I'm not a trained writer, poet or whatever.
So some of you may not understand fully what I'm trying to say. Hell, neither do I really, but I'll try and put it simply.
Hurting other humans, just the same as me, made me feel good. It pleasured me. I then thought about it. I then stopped.
I know exactly what you mean. It's a problem in the human psyche that everyone has, thankfully most can repress it to some extent, as you did.
Still a scary thought though.
Still a scary thought though.
Today, I was severely peed off.
It's a lot worse than "peed", but this damned filter won't allow such extensive descriptions. I won't go into detail into as to how or why I was "peed off", but all I'm saying is, is that I was angry.
Anyway, I was seething.
I needed to do something that would release this fury. This anger building up within my mind. I whipped out my copy of Unreal Tournament. Yes, this would do. I could seek the enemy. I could destroy them.
Make them suffer. The enemy is merely a digital existence, nothing more, nothing less, yet for some reason, as soon as I started, I felt satisfied that I could release anger towards this.
It made me feel better.
But then.
I stopped.
I thought more about this certain scenario.
Why?
That's right. Why.
Why was I being satisfied through the idea that I was making another entity suffer, making them feel pain?
The pain was imaginiative, of course. It wasn't real. But it was the feeling, the idea that it being hurt.
What I mean is, I was angry, severely angry. I wanted to hurt something.
I did just that.
I felt better.
It's a savage characteristic of the human instinct.
I thought about it more.
I was happy, because I was hurting something badly.
I then stopped playing Unreal Tournament.
It's a strange thing.
I find it hard to really put the point that I want to across, as I'm not a trained writer, poet or whatever.
So some of you may not understand fully what I'm trying to say. Hell, neither do I really, but I'll try and put it simply.
Hurting other humans, just the same as me, made me feel good. It pleasured me. I then thought about it. I then stopped.
It's a lot worse than "peed", but this damned filter won't allow such extensive descriptions. I won't go into detail into as to how or why I was "peed off", but all I'm saying is, is that I was angry.
Anyway, I was seething.
I needed to do something that would release this fury. This anger building up within my mind. I whipped out my copy of Unreal Tournament. Yes, this would do. I could seek the enemy. I could destroy them.
Make them suffer. The enemy is merely a digital existence, nothing more, nothing less, yet for some reason, as soon as I started, I felt satisfied that I could release anger towards this.
It made me feel better.
But then.
I stopped.
I thought more about this certain scenario.
Why?
That's right. Why.
Why was I being satisfied through the idea that I was making another entity suffer, making them feel pain?
The pain was imaginiative, of course. It wasn't real. But it was the feeling, the idea that it being hurt.
What I mean is, I was angry, severely angry. I wanted to hurt something.
I did just that.
I felt better.
It's a savage characteristic of the human instinct.
I thought about it more.
I was happy, because I was hurting something badly.
I then stopped playing Unreal Tournament.
It's a strange thing.
I find it hard to really put the point that I want to across, as I'm not a trained writer, poet or whatever.
So some of you may not understand fully what I'm trying to say. Hell, neither do I really, but I'll try and put it simply.
Hurting other humans, just the same as me, made me feel good. It pleasured me. I then thought about it. I then stopped.