Apparently buses and bus shelters are still excellent places to murder people. They’re poorly lit, they’re poorly maintained, their poorly populated. The city really does not do a great job at promoting their public transit system. Really, I’m doing them a favour.
For every
minimum wage 20-something I gut with broken glass I found AT THE BUS SHELTER, the
city adds 20 more dollars to their infrastructure. Maybe one day they can afford
to carry the body away.
I really
shouldn’t be killing minimum wage workers, sooner or later we’re going to run
out of people to flip burgers. I’m the real reason bosses can’t find people to
work for them. No, but for real, capitalism has created an over-inflated
emphasis on productivity and profit at the expense of the worker. The real
people I should be killing are the millionaires and billionaires – and I think
we have a trillionaire now? Strangely, none of them take public transportation
and I had a murder boner I needed quenched now.
Sorry I
said boner.
But that’s
what it’s like – for me at least. I get these urges and my head turns into this
mantra of “kill, kill, kill.” I can quiet the mantra if I have a plan in place
but the only time it’s ever completely quiet in my head is the few seconds
where I’ve watched someone take their last breaths. Then, I’m so focused on the
task at hand that I forget about everything else and the whole world goes
silent. Then it’s just me and the body. But soon enough, the voices come back
and I feel the urge all over again.
Don’t get
me wrong, I love what I do. It is so fucking fun to slice a man’s throat and then
poke 100 holes into his body to see him bleed out like a sieve. But there’s
something about the quiet that I crave most.
So sometimes
I have to kill the underdog in order to satiate my hunger until I can get to
the CEO. There’s really nothing to be done. Well, the city could fix the bus
shelter but that’s never going to happen.
So I’m
going to keep on killing.
Sincerely,
Casey
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