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We went to the shooting range today and I shot my first gun and fucking man was it good.
Good, but unfulfilling, because it was a mere .22 rifle. The recoil was no worse than a gust of wind. I guess we all have to start somewhere. It felt like a BB gun times two, divided by four, and multiplied by eight. But next time, oh next time. Next time is the time when we shoot the 9mm handgun. I can't wait until that time, next time. More so than that, I can't wait until I shoot a .45. Because when I shoot a .45, that's when I'll know for sure. That's when the answers will start coming. I want to shoot a gun whose recoil can break me in half. I want to join the army and kill people.
I really want to kill people. Innocent people, civilians. And not only kill, but eat. I have a hunger. They call it blood lust, but I call it living normally. Because every day of my life I wake up with this appetite. I want veins in my teeth. Sinewy muscle in my stomach. I want a necklace made of eyebrows. A g-string made of human hair (given involuntarily).
I want to kill a man with a better physique, stip him naked of his flesh, and wear it as my own, so people will say, "who's that strapping young man?" And I'll answer, "you mean, who was that strapping young man?!!?" and laugh, blood dripping from my teeth, until they walk away in disgust/respect.
I also have a hankering for rape and bank robbery. All things firearm.
Good, but unfulfilling, because it was a mere .22 rifle. The recoil was no worse than a gust of wind. I guess we all have to start somewhere. It felt like a BB gun times two, divided by four, and multiplied by eight. But next time, oh next time. Next time is the time when we shoot the 9mm handgun. I can't wait until that time, next time. More so than that, I can't wait until I shoot a .45. Because when I shoot a .45, that's when I'll know for sure. That's when the answers will start coming. I want to shoot a gun whose recoil can break me in half. I want to join the army and kill people.
I really want to kill people. Innocent people, civilians. And not only kill, but eat. I have a hunger. They call it blood lust, but I call it living normally. Because every day of my life I wake up with this appetite. I want veins in my teeth. Sinewy muscle in my stomach. I want a necklace made of eyebrows. A g-string made of human hair (given involuntarily).
I want to kill a man with a better physique, stip him naked of his flesh, and wear it as my own, so people will say, "who's that strapping young man?" And I'll answer, "you mean, who was that strapping young man?!!?" and laugh, blood dripping from my teeth, until they walk away in disgust/respect.
I also have a hankering for rape and bank robbery. All things firearm.
