Re: Trigger Warning: gore & violence You really gotta talk about mothers
I'm aware of my own
nah it's just chance
I'm no Edmund Kemper
I knew a guy, name of Frank. He was a salesman of some kind, think it might've been copier machines. I can't remember. Anyway, Frank married this little blonde valley girl who'd been his high school sweetheart; she kept the house in order, fixed him drinks, had a little yappy dog. He sold his stuff, earned a nice living, pension looked nice and fat. Frank does good at his job, they're happy, planning a vacation to Florida.
One day Frank stops at the liquor store on the way home from work, grabs a six-pack of malt and drives on home. First he kicks the dog to death, then ties his wife to the bed and sets the whole place on fire. He watches the place light up from across the street, drinking the malt and crying 'cause it was so damn beautiful. Now I asked him why he did all that. I thought he was angry, or crazy or depressed or having a breakdown. He said it wasn't any of those things. He'd just been thinking for a long time about seeing what it would look like, and that night he just did it. No trigger, no bad day. He just wanted to see what it looked like.
And some people want to see what it looks like when they open their mother or wife's throat with a carving knife. That's all there is to it.