December 26, 2027

I’m a warpath. I’m a decaying piece of shit. My insides are cold and frozen; my heart black as night. I can’t control the disintegration, but I can feel it happening, and every day it just gets worse and worse. I can feel myself being ripped apart; my tormented soul slowly descending and burning into the fires of hell. 

The world rejects me. I’m a man who belongs nowhere on this planet. It took me years to realize that living an abnormal lifestyle was, for me, the only way I knew how to go through life. Regrettably, my susceptibility to deindividuation has caused me to lose my sense of self; all of it. I don’t know how to exist outside of being a high-class escort and sometimes, a criminal. I feel like I’ve sold my soul to the devil; like it lost its cleanliness and became filthy. I’m stuck in a sea of haziness and clout. I’m someone plagued by restlessness and boredom; someone who only feels alive when stimulation occurs; whether violent or sexual. It’s the high. It’s the rush. It’s everything. 

And since then, I’ve never wanted to stop. I could be hellbound for all I know. I’ve done things – terrible things. I’ve destroyed people’s lives, abused my own body and broke the law countless times that asking God for forgiveness at this point seems pointless. The amount of irreparable damage I’ve created is huge I can’t bring myself to ask for redemption. 

It won’t be long before I’m gone for good.
All I can do now is try and fight myself through the remaining days of my existence. I’m on this earth for one reason: to survive. But will I? And for how long?