This Weekend's Socio Slip

It's what I call it when I have a day or a couple of days where it seems like everything I do reflects my sociopathic nature. I mean, I'm never NOT a sociopath, but I do try and steer myself out of socio activities. Not because I feel bad or feel guilt about them, but because I know it means I could wind up in trouble.

My work week ended with my patience worn thin and my internal beehive agitated. Before I left for the weekend, I took a risk at some quick revenge by licking the delivered food of a client we had. She'd been a bitch all night and when I saw the opportunity I took it. I was almost caught.
If I'd been caught, I would have easily been fired.
A couple seconds difference was all that separated me from clocking in Monday or standing in the unemployment line.

After that, I went a little too wild on the weekend. I don't know why, other than I know I was just feeling restless and needed some kind of excitement. At a coworker's birthday party, I wasted no time in getting... well, wasted. Luckily I had already double booked myself that night and had plans to meet up with my friends later.

Downtown, I drank more. I gave people who weren't my boyfriend flirtatious looks. I stole from the bar. I snuck into the gogo's changing room so I could see them fully nude, then dropped my drink on purpose when I was told to leave.

It isn't much. Nothing that others haven't done after having one too many. But for me and my personality, it's a murky path that often leads to far more risky and dangerous things.

(Dumb) Questions Answered

I don't really know why I thought I could avoid the dumb, trollish comments and questions I've been getting since I've started promoting my blog, but I guess I did. Anyway, here are a couple I'll answer publicly so maybe I won't have to again...? Just kidding. That also seems unrealistic.

Why would a sociopath blog?

I don't know why this is the most asked question, because it's really strange. Why wouldn't a socio/psycho blog? I have a brain and fingers. Am I exempt from blogging? Why do bipolar people blog? Or religious fanatics? Just because I'm different doesn't mean I can't blog.

Why do you care about people knowing you're a sociopath?

Well... I don't. I never said I did. I said I'm blogging in order to “ finally expose that self, even through this shadow of online anonymity. It's not about guilt or confusion of identity, but rather just a need to express who I am with limited repercussions or consequence. And maybe in the process I'll learn a bit more about myself than I already do.”

So... I don't understand the question here.

Sociopaths can't/don't have emotions/a consciences!

This one is just a statement I've been getting from a handful of people. An ignorant one. I'd like to tell them to read more objective (keyword there) works on the subjects of sociopathy, psychopathy, and antisocial personality disorder, but I know they won't. Ignorant people like to remain that way. If you do care about having an answer, it is this.

We do have emotions and we do have consciences. They're just different than yours.

I do welcome questions, but I won't respond to anything extremely ignorant or anything clearly combative or antagonistic. I have all the time in the world to, I just don't care to. Argue with someone else online.

Sociopaths in Film & Fiction

This is such a huge subject considering how many of our pop culture heroes/anti-heroes are, when you break down their characters enough, modern day sociopaths and psychopaths.

Dexter Morgan. Sherlock. Tom Ripley. Patrick Bateman. The Joker. Batman! They're all fairly monstrous characters but we gravitate towards them because, just like real life socios/psychos, they radiate risk and intrigue and seductive danger. But these are just a few examples and, in my opinion, not even the best.

Ingrid Magnussen, from White Oleander by Janet Fitch. Ingrid is the careless artist who hates people, thinks only about herself, and eventually murders a lover, thus leaving an already broken daughter behind. Once in prison, she changes nothing about herself, continuing in her selfishness and cons. One of the best sociopathic characters I've ever read.

Joe Carroll/Ryan Hardy/Emma Hill, from The Following. I'm convinced this show is filled with psychopaths. Without spoiling much, Kevin Bacon's Ryan Hardy is a risk-taking hero who hides a darker side of himself. The writing on the show and plot progress may leave a lot to be desired, but overall it's not a bad watch.

Kevin, from We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver. The book/film follows the life of a sociopathic child's mother and her attempts to understand, help, and protect herself from him. Eerily accurate in its depiction.

Fake Sociopaths/What I'm Not

So in an effort to expose my blog and beliefs a bit more (harder than it sounds), I've been scouring the internet and joining a handful of other sites, forums, and blogs. Two in particular stood out to me, however not for any good reasons.

The first one was psychforums. 

Despite the fact that I could barely register, what with the site continually giving me error messages and logging me out with every mouse click, the forums were so heavily policed it was insane. When trying to choose a username, I was met with the message that it contained disallowed words. The username I was aiming for was ModernSociopath, my normal handle. Apparently sociopath, psychopath, and psycho are words they don't consider appropriate for users to go by. Further reading into the forum's rules, terms, and guidelines, I found that it was a forum more geared towards “recovery” and people seeking a helpful community that shared their disorder.

It all screamed to me that any notion of glorifying, enjoying, or accepting one's sociopathy (self diagnosed or professionally) would be discouraged to the fullest extent. Still, I decided to browse.

Topics ran wide, but many things still turned me away. Namely, the peer hate I noticed all over the forum threads. Nothing up front and glaring, but definitely noticeable. A snide remark here, a disbelief there. So many petty people ragging on each other, despite all of them being in the same forum for the same thing. The second issue I had was with the “titles” users had given themselves. Recovering Anti-social PD. Bipolar Stage1. Type A ASP. Type B schizophrenic. Professionally diagnosed borderline. I don't even know what those mean. Are they real?

It was as if many of the users had something to prove by posting their diagnosis, which made no sense to me. A badge? For what? There's no one to prove you right or wrong. You're just needlessly fluffing yourself up.

The other site I found I didn't like was theexperienceproject. I joined, noticed a group titled I Am a Sociopath, and posted. I posted a message about how I was living the sociopathic renaissance that's been happening these past couple of years and loved seeing how many people were owning up to what they believed they were. My post was immediately met with another user who claimed I wasn't a “true sociopath”.

I have since deleted both accounts.

I guess I could understand this behavior better if I knew fully that all these other users were, indeed, fellow socios. We're combative, secretive, mean, and always looking to win a fight. But I doubt that is the case. I think the majority of them are just lonely internet trolls. 

But still, if these were the reactions I was getting online, what kind of reaction would this blog be getting?

Well, maybe I can help you check off a few things that I'm not.

I am not an angsty teenager.

I was never abused, suicidal, depressive, or harmful to myself (as in a cutter would be).

I'm not some bitter loser living in my parent's basement.

I'm not a sad virgin or some loner looking for an angle to make me interesting.

I'm not some Sherlock/Dexter/The Following fangeek (though I like two of those shows).

To say the reactions I saw and had on both these sites were disappointing would be correct. I was hoping for something different. Admittedly I wasn't expecting a strong community of sociopaths giving each other virtual pats on the back, but certainly not a bunch of weirdo internet trolls taking over whole forums dedicated to something they probably don't even care about or can truly relate to.

Oh well, I guess.

What else can I do besides hope that, in time, I'll be able to weed out the fakes and trolls from the true like minded who've taken to the web like I have.

I can't be the only one. Can I?

LOVE

I am capable of love. I do love, every day.

I love being alive. I'm never suicidal or ungrateful for my life.

I love my dog. I love my family and friends. I love Las Vegas and New Orleans and Los Angeles. But I'd be lying if I say I love them all like anyone else might. Anyone “normal” that is.

I love my friends because they make me laugh and they're there for me when I care enough to be around people. I've invested time in them and consider it an accomplishment that I've approved of their being in my life. They have raunchy humor like I do, looser morals than most, are understanding of modern America and youth culture, and they're sarcastic and sometimes mean... I like that about them and like having people like that around me.

My friends are what I need when I'm so sick and tired of people that I need to vent outwardly about them to people I'm not sick and tired of. It's nice to have others to bitch about life and other people with.

I love my friends because they've invested time in me and we have, without words, made a pact to be there for one another until, if ever, our friendship runs its course. It's nice having a group of people by my side when I need them. And because I know that they're there for me, I in turn don't mind being there for them when they need me. Even I can understand that most things in life only come with some give and take.

When it comes to family, the same mostly applies. My family has a strong bond and places great value on always being there for one another, through good times and bad. I like that. It's comforting and reassuring.

I like the routine family brings too, to my otherwise unstable mind. I like the small holiday traditions and family reunions. I know what to expect from everyone and they of me. My family has either watched me grow or has grown with me, so to them I've never been any other way. They're accepting of who I am, even if I've never out-rightly stated that I'm a self-identifying sociopath.

I love my family because I know that they'll always give me shelter and food when I need it. I know that because of them, I'll never go without, and that knowledge also comforts me. It's selfish, yes, but the truth.

Of course, I just as easily consider most of these people as replaceable property. I don't expect most of my friendships to last forever and I know, by past experience, that I am capable of breaking ties with family. But that doesn't matter to me right now, because until those relationships break, they're mine.

She's my sister. My mother.

They're my friends, not yours.

I love them all, but from a very possessive and selfish perspective. They provide me with things like comfort, laughter, material goods, company, and excitement. I do my best to offer the same, out of respect, though I know I don't always.

Rereading now, I can see how it actually may not seem all that different from how anyone else might love. Most people can say that their family and friends comfort them and give them joy. Most people know their families will help them out in bad times.

Perhaps two sentences can make my stance more clear.

YOU: I love my mother because she's generous and warm and will always be there for me no matter what. She's the best mother anyone could ask for.

ME: I love my mother because I know what to expect from her; a constant safe space, help if needed, routine if desired, and because she's my warm and loving mother, not yours.

So yes, I do say I love you to certain people in my life, because I do. I may sometimes use them or feign interest in their lives, or I might actively not be there for them when I know they're going through a difficult time, but I do love them.

In my own way.

It's Just Emotions

One of the main things people misconceive about the socio/psycho community is that we are all emotionless, hollow serial killers. It may make sense, considering the images and characters that have often been attributed to the words, both real and fictional. The Joker, Dahmer, Dexter, Aileen Wuornos.

But the exact opposite is true. 

These kinds of people do feel and experience emotions, they just do it very differently than everyone else.

Below, I'm going to list some major emotions and try my best to explain how I encounter, experience, and exhibit them as a self-identifying socio. It won't be how every psycho/socio feels about them, as there seem to be vast differences between even sociopathic people (habitual criminal vs. a serial killer, for instance) but I assume it will be close enough for you to get a general idea.

HATE: Hate is easy, as are most “negative” emotions. Greed, jealousy, anger, disgust. The world widely acknowledges these emotions as “negative” because, let's face it, not many positive things come from them. But it seems easier for most socios/psychos to experience, as opposed to most “positive” emotions. I can't say why this is, but I can say that the idea behind hate and those similar emotions aren't very far from your own. If there's any difference between me and the normal person, it's probably that my experiences of hate and envy are just more amplified and common.

ENVY/JELOUSY/GREED: Socios/psychos experience this often, I believe. I know I do. I'm constantly disgusted at the fact that some people have access to things I do not. Parent paid college educations. Inheritances. Nice homes and fancy cars. Wild vacations. I hate seeing people I consider “beneath me”, having these things while I go without, which in turn often causes me to lash out in an attempt to gain them.

Stealing, conning, cheating. I've done plenty of things in order to get things I believe are either owed to me or that I should just rightly have. Doesn't matter if it's the free drink I stole off the bar counter or if it's the vacation time request of a coworker that I ripped up so that I could take the holiday off instead.

SADNESS: I don't really get sad. When a situation comes up and the expected emotion should be sad or upset, I'm usually just frustrated by it. My homeless cousin not having been in touch with anyone for over a week? Frustrating to me, despite everyone else feeling sympathetic and helpless about the issue.

Sometimes I go far beyond frustrated and become upset. Upset at whatever caused the situation and that my mood has been altered by external forces. Like when my good friend's boyfriend broke up with her in a cruel way. I had little sympathy for her and found it hard to console her. Rather, I was just pissed off at the guy for being so tactless and causing my friend to cry. I feel like a normal friend would have done everything they could have to make her feel better and get her mind off things, whereas I just wanted to smash his car windows in retaliation for my own discomfort.

ANGER: I find the difference between anger and hate to be vast, which I assume most people would. I hate a lot of things in life, but a lot more makes me angry. And while hate is deep rooted and continual, I find anger to be sudden and explosive. I experience it mostly when I interact with people in life who are rude, ignorant, or argumentative towards me.

Probably once or twice a month I find myself getting so angry at something or someone that I get red in the face and clench my teeth. Then, depending on the severity of the situation of course, I'm fine two hours later and barely able to even remember the whole ordeal. Anger, to me, comes and goes quickly.

FEAR: I'm not afraid of too much. I jump when a horror movie shocks you with a killer behind the door, but that's surprise, not fear. Some of my friends think I'm afraid of things like heights or drowning, but that's not true. I just have an intense desire to avoid any personal injury and could give a shit less about scuba diving. Yes, rock climbing isn't widely known as the deadliest pastime in the world, but it's not exactly the safest either. Personally, I just don't see any reason or justification for the risk. I get my kicks in different ways. Ways that probably can't end with a broken leg. (Sidenote: Risk is an attribute usually placed on sociopaths more so than psychopaths. Socios take risks often which is usually what leads to their criminal activities and rap sheets.)

I don't fear war coming to America or getting lost in the inner city. I would avoid the possibility of both, if I had a hand in it, but I'm not afraid of it happening. I suppose to feel fear, I'd have to experience something in the moment, rather than fear the possibility of it happening.

So today, since I've never been to war and I've never been surrounded by gangbangers downtown, I can't recall every really experiencing fear... which is kind of surprising.

I actually want to thing longer about this emotion and find out what the closest to fear is I've ever come. Please stand by.

LOVE: Easily the most confusing emotion I experience. Enough so, that I'll dedicate my next blog post to it. Don't want to tire your eyes.

HAPPINESS: I have a hard time considering myself happy. Happy is an emotion, in my eyes at least, reserved for when your life is really great and fulfilling. Happy comes after content and I'd have to say that “content” sums up my life as a whole right now.

If you ask about moments of happiness, then sure, I've felt those. I've have good nights with my boyfriend and my dog is so funny sometimes I can't help but laugh, but happiness has always seemed like a long term emotion to me.

EXCITEMENT: Things I get excited for: desserts, vacations, masturbation, new liquor, getting revenge on someone, being the center of attention, flirting with strangers, random sex, scary movies, Halloween, Christmas. I feel excited a lot. I'm easily excitable, though I probably don't ever seem like it. I get excited on the inside and let it stay there like a secret. Is that weird?

Defining Myself

At first I thought I would copy/paste the guidelines and definitions of sociopaths and psychopaths here, then decided against it. It really doesn't serve much of a purpose. You, as a reader, might like to have it handy in order to pin traits to me and go, “Hmm, yeah, maybe he is a psychopath.”

Understandable, but I don't care about that. I don't need any affirmation.

I don't need anyone to tell me who or what I am and I definitely don't need to prove myself to anyone. Another reason I won't bother to post it is that I'm not aiming for this to be an educational blog. I'm aiming for insight based off personal experience and ideals, not research and public study. If you do want to read the basic definitions of these things, a quick Google search will help you out. The information is nothing secretive or hard to find. (I recommend searching: Sociopathy, psychopathy, and anti-social personality disorder.)

I will step into some of the territory though, and that's the distinction between a psychopath and a sociopath.

Mainly, the difference lies with how each interacts with the people around them. In a nutshell, you will probably find that a psychopath is better at blending in with the people around them. They're often described as smarter and better at mimicking emotions than a socio might be. Sociopaths are often, apparently, easier to spot. They're more prone to criminal activity (and getting caught) and come across more awkward than convincing when they try to blend in with the general populace. Of course, you can find websites that claim the exact opposite, pinning the attributes differently. Yet another reason I feel like it would be useless and unneeded to talk at length about “professional” distinctions here. Too many conflicting schools of thought on the subject.

Despite all of it, I've used both terms interchangeably for quite a while, for no real reason other than that I have always found little distinction between the two when it comes to my own personality. Compiling both lists, I can easily find things in each that apply to me. I'm smart AND sometimes reckless. I mimic emotions very well, BUT also have plenty of awkward moments.

So am I a psychopath or sociopath? Honestly, I don't really prefer one or the other. All I know is that I'm not like the majority of people. Cold-hearted and emotionally chilled numb.

An ice king.

Anatomy of an Iceman

I'm a fairly handsome, young white man with all-American features. I'm shorter than average but have the posture and gait to make up for it. I'm not exactly athletic, nor am I a health food addict, but I do just enough to keep myself in decent shape.

I dress casually and, now that I'm a bit older, somewhat more like a preppy. I like the cuffed shorts, polos, and boat shoes that have replaced my cutoff jeans, sleeveless tees, and flipflops.

I used to be a big smoker but have since all but quit. I'm not a drunk but I do love cocktails, both at home and out. I'm a sucker for a smooth Long Island Iced Tea or tangy margarita. I've never done drugs and doubt I'll ever try.

I have a very large family that I'm neither super close to or awkwardly estranged from, and that includes my immediate family. Aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents stretch out across the nation, from Alaska to South Carolina, Michigan to Texas, but I see the majority of them on a very limited basis. In the last year I've left the city a heavy percentage of my family calls home in an effort to try life out away from them.

I have a boyfriend currently, which as you may have just understood makes me a gay man. We get along great and seem to compliment each others strengths and weaknesses nicely. We're very comfortable around each other and in the year we've been together I don't think either of us have ever felt disrespected, upset, annoyed, or crowded by the other.

My friends are a small, select few. I don't make friends easily and have high expectations for them when I do. Most of these friends live states away from me and over half of them are women. I've never really found a need for “acquaintances”.

At first glance, I may seem awkward and quiet, if not a bit anti-social. Understandable because I am quiet and a bit awkward and anti-social. I have a habit (I won't claim that it's good or bad) of making my mind up about someone within the first ten minutes of meeting them and that includes coworkers, schoolmates, and friends of friends. I suppose I sometimes might even come off as standoffish. This fact doesn't bother me too much.

I grew up in Las Vegas and have a strong affinity for the city and Southwest region of the US as a whole. I find the desert beautiful and mysterious, seductive and strong. This is not to say I dislike the rest of the nation though, since I have lived in a few places. I love the thunderstorms of the Midwest, the fog and mist of the Pacific Northwest, and the coastal SoCal breezes just as much as my native desert heat. I can pass on encountering any large amounts of snow.

As I said, I'm not particularly athletic or restrictive when it comes to dieting, but I am in pretty good health and rarely get sick. When I do, my body has always managed to kick the illness within 24 hours. For such a strong immune system, I credit myself for not popping every over the counter medication I can get my hands on like most people these days seem to do.

I like country music and classic rock, but listen to many genres, including pop and musicals.

I love reading and watching comedy and horror movies.

I play the occasional video game and watch football when the season comes around.

I love nature equally as much as I love the comforts of the big city.

I enjoy traveling, but so far only at a national level. I don't feel the urge to go discover some foreign country when there are still so many great things to see in my own. Currently I've only visited half of the places I want to in America.

I'd say I'm artistic but that might be a stretch. I'm pretty terrible at painting but think I do well enough when it comes to writing (hence the blog) and consider that my most used artistic outlet.

I don't really love cooking but I'm a natural at it. I get more out of people's reactions to what I've made rather than a sense of accomplishment from having made it to begin with.

I love animals and don't think I could ever live life without some kind of pet. Right now I have an elderly dog that I've had since I was a teenager.

And... I suppose in a nutshell, that's me.

At least, that's the me that anyone could attest to. The me that I've projected out into the world for everyone to see.

But it's not the whole me.

Not by a long shot.

I know what you're thinking. No one ever reveals their whole self. No one truly knows anyone else, that's just an impossibility. And you're right. There is no absolute way to know another person on the same level as they know themselves. But you'd be wrong in assuming that I'm like most people.

The secrets most people keep, while shocking and maybe even taboo to those around them, usually aren't enough to cause turbulence in the lives of their friends and family. So John gets turned on from watching extreme bondage porn; unusual but not as disturbing as some alternatives that are out there. And maybe Mary had a secret abortion she never told anyone about and that's why she cries at night. That's something that can be reasoned and understood. And so Daddy was a conman who swindled people to afford a nice house in the suburbs; money does strange things to people. It might be criminal, but it doesn't make him a monster, or any less loving towards his children?

But what if the secret self being hidden is none of these things? What if it's not reasonable or understandable? What if it goes beyond unusual and ventures into frightening or macabre?

Take for instance myself.

Everything you read about me above is true... at least it would appear to be. Ask any of my friends or family and they could attest to the truthfulness of the statements. But what if I told you right now that some of them were just parts of an act I put on because they completed the idea of who I wanted them to know? Example: I could actually care less about football, but because a lot of my friends and family are into it, I watch and root for my carefully selected team in an attempt to blend in with them. It also helps whenever I want to chat up a straight guy at a sports bar or house party.

It might not seem like much, especially compared to Daddy the Conman or John the Bondage Freak, but it's just one example and barely scratches the surface of the secret self I conceal.

For reasons I still don't understand myself, I've lately felt the desire to finally expose that self, even through this shadow of online anonymity. It's not about guilt or confusion of identity, but rather just a need to express who I am with limited repercussions or consequence. And maybe in the process I'll learn a bit more about myself than I already do.

So, if you feel interested enough to find out what kind of person I really am, there's nothing to do.

Just read on.

To start with, I'm a liar.

A huge one.

I've lied since I was a child and have never stopped. Small lies, white lies, mean lies, omissions, destructive fibs. I've said them all and still do on a regular basis. The reasoning always changes, but a lot of the time I do it just because I can.

I also cheat, manipulate, threaten, blackmail, connive, exaggerate, sabotage and extort.

I've never been charged with any crime, but I'm a criminal by many degrees. If I had been caught and convicted, my rap sheet would include theft, burglary, mail tampering, destruction of property, arson, prostitution, indecent exposure, drug possession and sales, assault, and probably a few others I can't recall off the top of my head.

I'm sexist, racist, and discriminatory on plenty of other levels. If I'm constantly thankful for anything it is being born into this world a white male from a middle class family and yes, I know exactly how that sounds and no, I don't really care.

I'm not exactly anti-social, by definition of the word, but I do find it hard to connect with people because I don't think or rationalize things like the general populace does. And while not heartless, the emotions I experience are skewed and set differently than the people I encounter on a daily basis. It proves very difficult to try and connect with people when you don't input worldly information in the same way.

That doesn't go to say I don't hate people though...

Actually, I do.

I think the majority of people are stupid, petty, ignorant, and inferior to me in many ways. I honestly believe some people should be sterilized and I think executions in the nation are too few and far between.

In daily interactions with people, I find that I often have to suppress extreme feelings of hatred or rage. Sometimes I get so lost in violent thoughts that I space out and grind my teeth. Twice I have come close to physically attacking someone in public (both times in my workplace), but have been able to restrain myself at the last possible moment. I know and understand that I am very capable of committing murder, though I feel confident enough in saying that I don't think I'll ever encounter a situation that would lead up to such a conclusion.

I mean, fuck, if it hasn't happened yet...

I have always been fascinated by violence and death. Most will know of my macabre tastes by the collection of horror DVDs that I own, but it goes far beyond that. Online, I actively search out violent videos to watch, including street fights and scenes from war torn nations, but I've also watched footage of gangland murders and video/picture evidence left behind by the world's serial killers. I do draw the line when it comes to anything involving children or animals though. Children I view as untainted and salvageable and animals are simply innocent creatures in my eyes.

As I said, I do experience emotions but not in the same ways as everyone else. I don't place much value on, or forge strong emotional attachments to, people, places, or things.

I'm obviously arrogant and egotistical. This is because I rarely open my mouth unless I'm either a) certain I'm right or b) don't care enough about being wrong. When anyone complains about their issues or situations in life, whether they came to me for advice or not, I tend to give it and it's rarely pretty. It's alienated me from siblings and friends and I never feel bad for doing it.

I call people out when I feel like they're living life poorly. I don't like adults who act like they're college kids and I don't like people who pop babies out like they're a Pez dispenser. I hate most people living off any government aid, which also includes people in my family, and I don't hesitate in calling them leeches.

I avoid my family a lot of the time. Not because I hate them but because their average human natures irritate me. It's hard for me to relate to them and their complaints or concerns about life, so when there's a long holiday weekend when everyone wants to get together, I try and opt out. If I do end up joining, I pass the time usually with alcohol and a book.

I do love (I will explain how I experience positive emotions later on at some point, at length) most of the people I have in my life right now, but if they suddenly decided they'd be better off without me in theirs I wouldn't shed a tear. It's happened to me before and I expect it to happen again. I'll feel no longing for them, or shame at having lost them. If anything I'd probably just grow angry and vengeful towards them.

Speaking of vengeance, I actively pluck every opportunity for revenge from the tree of life. I'm a very vindictive guy and can hold grudges for years. Ask my exes.

Another fascination I have is with watching others fail, struggle, or get set back. I don't know why really, but it always gives me a thrill watching how easy someone's life can be upset because they allow it to be. I suppose if I can give any reason it's that I'm drawn to their plight because they experience certain events like an average emotional person should/would, whereas I couldn't/wouldn't under the same pressure.

Sometimes, I purposely intervene in the lives of my coworkers, peers, or even strangers for a chance to watch them squirm. I've deleted important work folios. I've talked about someone's recent bad breakup in public. I've claimed to know that someone is stealing. I know that doing these things is wrong, but I am never deterred from doing them. Not by consequence, not by morals.

In short, I'm a psychopath. Use whatever definition of the word you want but I'd say I fit it easily. A cold, stoic block of ice in a world of full of fiery, emotionally driven people.

But I'm still a person too.

I'm still human.

I'm just a different kind.