Sunday, June 24, 2012

Stage Two: DPD: Borderline Personality Disorder.


             Psychopathy: Another Life.



           Changing to Psychopathy Another Life and Borderline Personality Disorder.

              I felt it was time to branch out and extend both arms and mind to other areas less studied or explored into the human condition where right equals left and down is up to some. So much like Nonviolent Psychopathy, BPD does have an unusual place in everyday life.

      Often labeled with misdiagnosis, and more often treated with medications that proved either wrong or horribly so with patients seeking either suicidal or homicidal beliefs to ease themselves.

          And what medications were those? We’ll get to that later. Trust me on this.

             Borderline Personality Disorder has personal attributes that have symptoms that range from major depression, high blood pressure, slight mood swings to physical symptoms of RA (rheumatoid arthritis) , other severe debilitating illnesses. Sometimes Lupus, Fibromyalgia, and physically repeated perceived pain can cause psychological breaks to what we saw those afflicted with as psychotic breaks. This being done with best intentions, though wrongly so.

          Unlike Nonviolent Psychopaths, this area goes into other areas often misdiagnosed, incorrectly and medically treated in sheer ignorance. There are so many in this aspect of psychology that professionals did not travel.

      As I said in the beginning of PAL, let’s dance into corridors of darkness of the mind.

            STAGE TWO: Psychopathy and Borderline Personality Disorder.

      Mark William Darus. 06242012

Ending this part of the BLOG I started: Final Phone interview.

                Final Interview: a predator, a healer: The Psychiatrist.


                 It may be months before I post others, yet I found this one most profound and disturbing.

____________________________________________________________



        Predator: Final interview
 

        General Information.

         Sex: Female

         Age: 48 (but I look about 30)

         Race: White, but most of time, very tanned

         Body Style: Athletic with natural tits that don’t droop.

          Highest level of education at the time of incident: Med School grad, field: Psychiatry.

          Location: AN: Would not give.

        Name: Alexis

<Advise caller their name is not needed as this is a blind survey. Their surveys will be assigned a random name for categorization purposes only>

 

 

 

 

 

        1. HAVE YOU ALWAYS BEEN THE SICK FUCKER OTHERS VIEW YOU AS BEING?

        Alexis: For as long as I can remember.

        2. WHEN DID YOU REALIZE YOU WERE DIFFERENT FROM OTHER PEOPLE?

       Alexis: about seven years of age, about the time I started having periods.

        3. DID THIS BOTHER YOU IN ANYWAY, AND IF SO, HOW?

        Alexis: I did not find this bothersome in the least bit. I found it different, that’s all. I knew people looked at me in a way they didn’t look at my sisters/brothers or friends of similar ages.

        4. AS YOU PROGRESSED IN LIFE, HOW DID YOU LEARN TO MANIPULATE OTHERS?

       Alexis: I would try and fail. Believe me, it was a truly wise person that said: “you will always learn more about life through failure than successes.” Sure, it’s applied psychology 101, but it only works if you learn from it. Most don’t, you know, and repeat the same routines over and over again in futility.

       5. WHEN DID YOU LEARN TO INTIMIDATE OTHERS?

       Alexis: 13.

        Mark: Care to elaborate?

        Alexis: Sure! I had a teacher in junior high that would keep staring at me. I didn’t feel creeped out or uncomfortable. I’d seen this kind of look before. Dad would give mom this look as I grew up. She’d smile and they’d disappear into their bedroom for a while. They’d be gone for about an hour, sometimes longer if mom was upset about something and dad had sensed it. They could read other like a movie you watch over and over again because you enjoy it so. He’d have a raw look of desire in his eye that he’d aim square at her. She responded most physically, sometimes blushing, mostly getting erect nipples. She’d-

        Mark: Sorry to cut you off/ You noticed her nipples getting hard? You noticed his eyes?

        Alexis: Yes. How odd is that for a girl of 13? But I always noticed things like that in people. Hell, I could even see the subtle differences in their breathing the closer they got to one another. At that point, they’d been married for over 20 years! Theirs was a love, that to this very day, I have never seen before with any couple. I miss my parents, I wished I’d found a partner like that had to each other.

          6. DID YOUR FAMILY KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON WITH YOU?

         Alexis: My parents, yes. Siblings noticed nothing. My sisters and brother had their lives, friends and looks at life. Honestly, how many bros and sis’s notice anything about abnormalities in each other? My parents did though. They believed me too analytical for my age. Way too young for thoughts that delved into what makes people tick, what makes one ract this way while other respond this way. My dad was fond of saying, him being a highly educated dentist, she has a keen knowledge of fight or flight areas of human nature. She is most gifted.

         Mark: Did you feel yourself as gifted?

         Alexis: Not really, but it did tell me I was on to something.

          6a. DID THEY MAKE YOU SEEK HELP? AND IF UNDER 18, DID THEY FORCE YOU IN THIS REGARD?

        Alexis: Force, no. But they did say it would be in my best future to do so. They deeply loved me, all ego aside, perhaps more so than my sibs. They watched them extend, go beyond, grow normally. They saw a difference in me. They were both highly educated people, deep thinkers and secure in themselves to throw it out there and let the world deal with it.

<after a long silence, huge sigh and telling her dogs to behave and be quite>

       Alexis continued…

      Alexis: They asked me about venturing into counseling, telling me all the while they didn’t think anything was seriously wrong with me. I so loved them, but back when, I hated what they wanted me to do. I did it though. Through those interactions with a trained professional, I learned a massive amount of intel. I studied their reactions to my reactions, figuring those far less studied could both enchanted and beguiled by my answers and statements.

        Mark: Where did this knowledge take you?

       Alexis: To a land way beyond my lack of age, yet expanding wisdom. I learned to control strangers easily as your average person always give the crying child the benefit of the doubt.





       7. WERE YOU SEXUALLY, EMOTIONALLY ABUSED BY YOUR FAMILY WHILE GROWING UP?

Alexis: No, not at all.

 

 

 

        8. AS YOU SLIPPED INTO WHAT MADE YOU BECAME, DID IT HAPPEN SLOWLY OR FAST?

      Alexis: It was a way since birth with me. I just was this way. I have never had an age of realism without the factors I didn’t know then.

        9. AS IT OCCURRED, DID YOU HEAR VOICES, AN AUDIBLE SOUND LIKE THAT OF A CLOCK THAT MADE A SINGLE ‘CLICK’ OR ANYTHING THAT MADE YOU REALIZE YOU WERE CROSSING A TERMINATING POINT IN YOUR LIFE?

      Alexis: Nothing on this one.

       10. DID YOU SEE ANYTHING WHEN CROSSING THIS SUBCONCIOUS/MENTAL LINE? (if asked: what do you mean? counter them with probing questions: DID YOU SEE BELOVED GRANDPARENTS, AUNTS/ UNCLES, SIBLINGS FADING FROM YOUR MINDS EYE, DISAPEARING INTO A BLACK, DESOLATE BACKGROUND ? DID YOU SEE ANYTHING LIKE DEER RUNNING ACROSS A FREEWAY GETTING NAILED BY CARS OR TRUCKS. A CHILD FALLING FROM A FIFTH STORY BALCONY? WATCHING A BROWN FALL LEAF FALLING SLOWLY FROM A TREE IN HIGH WINTER OR SUMMER? (let them answer fully. Let them form their own answers with NO GUIDANCE or leading.)

        Alexis: I have no memories whatsoever of a past before then.

        11. WHEN DID YOU LOOK AT OTHER HUMANS AS BEING A LESSER FORM, OR AS SOME WOULD SAY “A SPECIES APART” FROM YOU?

      Alexis: Early, like 10. I didn’t manipulate my immediate family, but I did uncles and aunts. Christmas was always a grand spectacle, me getting better toys than their own kids. I opened up to them with my minds fiction and they’d feel sorry for me. From that point, I took neighbors for a long walk off a short pier.

        Mark: Were you proud of these things?

        Alexis: Pride had nothing to do with it. Pride is an emotion-based reflex to a reflection to ones self. I had no pride about this, but I did have a sense of power. This power grew and grew over the years and decades to follow.

        12. DID THIS KNOWLEDGE MAKE YOU MORE POWERFUL THAN OTHERS? AND IF SO, WHY?

        Alexis: Yes, vastly more superior. This is why I became a Psychiatrist. A gatekeeper for others to seek the truth inside their own minds and have me be in control the entire time. I helped others, granted: DO NO HARM, but I did and still use them to further my knowledge and studies.

       Mark: What studies would that be?

       Alexis: later, please continue.

 

       13. DO YOU LOOK AT HUMANS AS TOYS? <<<adding: AND I WON’T MAKE YOU GROVEL OVER THE CAT TOYING WITH THE MOUSE QUESTION>>>

         Alexis: Toys? No, not in the slightest. I did look at them as both sad and desperate people that longed for hope and those simply to be loved or understood by peers. I believed I failed many clients on this. It is truly impossible to teach others to look past the materialistic areas/ values and have them expect their friends to do the same.

        14. ARE YOU PERSONALLY SUCCESFUL WITH MANIPULATING, INTIMIDATING AND USING OTHERS FOR YOUR GAIN?

          Alexis: definitely so. I have written five books in the realm of psychology and will continue to treat people and write about it.

       15. DID YOU GET MARRIED AND IF SO, WHY?

         Alexis: Yes, to wonderful man that even in my pathological lying knew the truth about me. He won’t admit it, but he like me.

       Mark: and what is that?

        Alexis: A nonviolent psychopath. You should see what he does to companies. How much money he gains manipulating business owners, share holders and unions. He won’t say it, but he is my twin. I cannot say more about this man I share life with.

       16. IF BEING MARRIED, WHY DID YOU CHOSE THIS PERSON? IF HAVING CHILDREN WITH THIS SPOUSE, WHAT WOULD YOU TEACH YOUR CHILDREN?

       Alexis: Had no kids. Why did I chose him? Well, he was like me in male form. Made sense, logically and physically speaking. We seemed to know each other from day-one. We had a rhythm, similar stride or dance with each step given us. Marriage, either made in heaven or ascended from hell, you decide. This man is mine, and I would kill for him.

          17. ARE YOU CONTENT WITH YOUR LIFE AT THIS POINT?

        Alexis: I would not give this life in trade for Gates cash or any of the Hiltons-dumb ass chicks disbrain endeavors.

       18. IF NOT CONTENT, DO YOU THINK YOUR HUNGER WILL EVER SUBSIDE?

       Alexis: I am content and as long as I have a license, I will never hunger deeply so.

       19. DID YOU FIND PSYCHOPATHY: ANOTHER LIFE HELPFUL IN ANYWAY?:

        Alexis: Mark, you have no idea how much this has meant to me. You, without shame, kept this blog running while placing your full name to it. I have shared emails with you to the point I believe your aim is true. We have been Facebook friends for a few months now. I have followed your writings since we met. <she chuckles, saying, I know you will give me a good name.

         Mark: like everyone else. I give you a name I find appropriate.

      Alexis: controlling bastard! <laughing>

        Mark: and what else would you expect?

        Alexis: just let me co-write your book with you.

        Mark: We’ll see, Alexis.

        Alexis: I hope you do. Love you!

        Mark: No, Alexis. You can’t. But we will write a book together.

         Alexis: Mark, do you think you and I can find what is truly human? I am willing to try and my man says I should with you.

         Mark: What harm would there be in trying?

         Alexis: None. I will call you..

          AN: and she did. We talked for hours, about 8 with various recharges to sustain this conversation. We still talk, she has become my Comrade. And we have been FaceBook friends for months, half a world apart with similar interests. Mentally Joined. Sharing thoughts through emails and phone calls. Hugging each other as we'd embrace ourselves.

       Fantasy? Well, that depends on how you view your world around you and spirituallity. It's not like we have phone sex...

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

      This was the final phone interview I would post on the subject of NVP’s until a later reprise comes forth.

       Why is this?

          I found this to be a vastly more poignant interview as many deal with mental help professionals and never wonder why they choose to do such things for an income. How many times does a person look at an engine specialist as to why he chose to work on internal combustion engines versus brain surgery? And while we’re at it, why should a Certified Auto Mechanic be paid less than that of a medical professional? These highly trained people do for your mode of transportation, getting to work, getting kids to places, aide you in that illicit affair and charge must less than medical doctors. You give the grease monkeys flack. Try giving your doctor flack and see how far that takes you.

        Yeah, this is a major shout-out to Dave, Mike and their band of Brothers at Midas!

        Thanks to all for the Phone interviews. In time, I will place all of them here.

      I must move to the next area of study.



        Mark William Darus 06-24-2012



All rights to this blog are reserved. They can be used with permission via writing me at emails given at the start of this blog. Said rights, being either in book form, pictures, screen captures or quotes will be used as stealing and be dealt with as such.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

What simple things give you happiness: What makes us Human: part II

                             What makes us Human: Part II.

 

                   Did you cry at the raw screaming beauty of your woman as she experienced more pain than she has ever known, that you had a major hand in its creation? During this event: did you feel elated and stressed, a whacked, convoluted insanity that made your chest pound uncontrollably, mind racing without direction of control simply by her agony as you witnessed the birth of your child?

               Do you feel empowered by the glory of gazing at a sunrise, darkness shedding its grip over the land, succumbing to the rising unyielding light? Do you feel a sense of hope as a new day is born with the endless possibilities given to us?

               Do you get goose bumps as the sun takes its rest from your eyes, going to its rightful rest, skies going from orange to yellow to varied shades of blues and black. Do you revel in a sense of wonder as stars fill the night, twinkling, ever growing as jets and satellites dance across what you see. Do you hear the sounds that accompany this visual wonder you witness: The music of frogs, owls, crickets and other beasts as they awaken, come to life and shout proud in the safety of darkness reborn to them?

              Do you look to the sky and find images painted with clouds against sharp, vibrant blue backgrounds, point these self-inspired findings to others with excitement and child-like glee? If and when you witness this gift of chaos or gods hand, do you realize this is something you will never see again no matter how long you grace this Earth?

                Do you feel delight as snowflakes descend or flowers begin to defy chilly air and take their promised place as seasons change? Do you love the palate of colours when falls changing temperature graces trees, once blended green, as they explode to ever changing shades of reds and oranges?

             Do you like the sounds of rivers: as water runs over rock in unrepeated patterns, differing as movement and erosion create things unheard to you, yet charging you with power in natures delight?

             Do you embrace the chill of a winters night as it makes your breath a sight to behold?

           Are you fired up by the first sun-heat of spring and winter loses its frosty grasp?



           Do you feel anything at all?

            If so, why in the name of your higher power do you fail to express it or be willing to share and talk about what it does for you?

           What are you so goddamned afraid of?

             Are you so preoccupied with your income, social status or lack of a worthy phone that you let yourself become eclipsed to the free gifts given us from somewhere else?

           AN <authors note> Modern cell phones have taken the place of the car you own and drive which use to be the status symbol of our lands. I find this interesting, as phones are way cheaper than cars. Run with that thought if you will, yet with the current generation of 20-30 somethings, this does seem to hold true.



                       What makes us human?

             I further my exploration on this subject in the attempt to seek some truth of what makes us so vastly different than any other animal that inhabits the Third Rock from the Sun.

             My desire is to gain responses to this post: Do any of the above questions give you any emotional drives whatsoever? If so, please explain these to me and be willing to have them posted here.

      What happiness, hope or emotion do you find elating to you?

      At your request, I will post your sentiments anonymously.

        Mark William Darus

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Suicide: those words by the senders finding dead loved ones.

                                                       

                                                              Can I Play With Madness?

 



                  In the last entry, I gave you a glimpse of desperation heading toward suicide. From the four I have been given the opportunity to publish thus far, I am propelled to give you the words of those they deaders left behind.

              Of the four notes of progressing death being submitted to me, were there not storys behind them? Did these family members/friends/coworkers have no feeling whatsoever?

             AUTHORS NOTE: And do not look at others outside the USA for having lack of feeling due to a background of a Soviet Republic… At least they don’t kill for tennis shoes or Ipods…

 

              I published four letters of the dying: This is what the one submitting to me had to say.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 



              I knew he was most distraught. Depressed, no longer smiling at anything, dead in life. A host of the party gone silent. No tears when asked what was wrong with him. He said simply, Just tired; and he’d bust another joke.

                 There was nothing serious about my brother. He could find sick humor in most everything and we’d smile.

               I knew he’d used women over and over time and again… He’d thrusted his way to a million plus dollar a year income.

              He’s dead. He was fucxked up… Why should I mis him anee less?????

Sorry-happay to sahre,

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

               Love my sister, but she did deserve to die. You cannot use so many and not get killed. Seeya, sis…

 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

              I send you this because my Husband had an ironclad will. I was guaranteed my powers of his will long before I sent you this.

              A month passes, so I reach out, seeking guidance. realms of thieves, lawyers and hungery family wanters, clawing gnawing wanting a hunk of him. A bracelet, necklace, gold statue.



               Clawing for possessions he’d attained from legal right, not morally so, with chirst at his helm. He wnet to church with me… He annihilated others with the stroke of a pen. He handled his family and friends much the same.

                He took care of me and our kids What was he really though?

                He took us care of. I louds what he did. Sad he’s gome. Kids will miss his. _______________________________________________________________________________________

 

                Police find her note in her pocket, dotted with blood and fluids of her.

              Christ, I cannot fathom the guilt she felt as she wandered off to her killer or how many times she had done so before her slaying.

                Over coffee, she told me her desires, and yes, I saw her cliumb was far and beyond any of us would have gone. Yes, she did this by hurting others lives, but we thought his america corparation loiving….

              I miss her. Sorry she fekt sirry…..

              Vodka cleaning me.

‘’’’’’’’’’ of sister of

///////////////////////////////////////////////

                 RIP….

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

AN:

         Shallow messages left on devourers of both word and thought.

                You miss them, wish for others to learn and such.

           Why should any of us listen to you at all?

               Your words far reaching a shallowness of your departed that set you into motion so eclipsed at their passing and what they graced us with.



              The Why factor.

                  I sincerely believe they wrote these death notes for someone to learn

             I have been known to wrong before.



Sleep well, or awake grand on this Earth.

Mark William Darus

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Part One: What Makes Us Human? We kill each other freely.

                                What makes us human?
                                      Part One:


 

                  What makes the human animal, so apart from other animals and species that inhabit this once gentle earth, gone more violent from greed and a sincere, homicidal ideology to kill virtually everything we see that presents itself as an obstacle to us? What makes us in our ideals, desires and hungers create an atmosphere of content when we get ours at the lives of others?

                   Be it from segregation of races, monetary status or simply pushing deer and other natural animals from their lands to build housing developments to later call them a nuisance. \

               In the United States, my homeland, besides slavery, we committed wholesale genocide on the people that inhabited this land before we got here: Indians, Injuns, savages.

                As I like to say every Thanksgiving in regards to people that have a true and absolute claim to our lands: They brought us Turkeys and we gave them hot-lead, a mere few crossings down the road. Labeling them savages, animals, and lesser forms than whitemen, much as England had the Crusades, trashing lives/cultures that were simply different from theirs in power. And that power coming from what?

What gives all dominant societies superiority over others? What makes one group of people the power to rule over others? What makes their way right, correct for the benefit of humanity versus others of differing options?

Technology, that’s what.

Granted, it didn’t help Custer, but hey, you got to historically throw a dog a bone and give the INJUNS a win. <and didn’t Custer repeatedly do audacious acts to point out General McClellans absurdity to his subordinates during the American Civil War? Didn’t Custer, after McClellans wasting an hour wondering if a river was too deep to cross, take his steed by the reins and go into said river and say, as his steed was in midknee depth and say: This is how deep it is General. We can cross here.>

              I am not blaming all this tired worlds problems on this United States, but we have more than our fair share to do with it.

                  In 236 years, let’s take a look at what this country has accomplished.

                     We started with Blacks enslaved: Tell me how this didn’t help the industrial Agricultural growth. During Our Civil War, we may have declared how we’d set blacks free, but wasn’t that some ploy to make them feel a sense of loyalty to the Northern efforts to one day pay them less than whites for their very same labors as whites? <<<see movie Glory: Black Civil War soldiers, willing to die like Whites, yet paid less for their duties.>>> After the war, weren’t they paid less for jobs with the same skills and life-threatening endeavors? And this lasted how many decades? How many thousands slaved and dies, while getting paid with no benefits given to their families?

                  Who really built the railroads in the USA? At least I can say this on this: There has never been a government/ taxpayer influence on the railroads. They started by men of vision. They funded these uncharted areas themselves. They made a huge profit from cheap and expendable Chinese labor, a different sort-of slave, soon after the Civil War. How many of these men died with absolutely nothing being given their families.

                      By simple comparison, let’s make some cement, shall we. Let’s play in a desert plain. We’ll build steelworks foundries, cultivate the best of plumbing, electrical, and the mass of a nation that has no other gainful work to find until the next huge war comes along.

                 Let’s play with massive amounts of sweat, pain, potential death and relocating <leaving loved ones behind, families fragmented> for a hope. This hope: to live.

                C’mon America! Let’s play with cement on the most extreme of scales!

 

                           With this: The Hoover Dam was started.



                                When, at the first two months of its construction, white men began dying at about 100 a week, dehydration became a real problem. Oh my gosh. How could these men just die? Didn’t we make them barracks to live in, places for their families to live while they build this for our nation and didn’t we, in turn, charge them rent for these graces we bestowed on them? Didn’t we also own all the food stores and restaurants, not to mention, churches they‘d contribute to. Didn’t we also give them stores for their weakensses of lesser women desire and their sins in gambling?

                    Just prior to the beginning of the Hoover Dam, the dustbowl took out many states farming capabilities, wiping out virtually any physical sense of harvesting. Did the powers that be help them keep the banks from taking their lands and making them homeless? Didn’t we grant the banks power to hire thugs to remove them from their dwellings? Push them into desolate streets of sand and sadness: to fields of broken dreams.

                    Sorry, you lose. Capitalism must prevail. We got your land. Tough titty!

                                 And didn’t we, as a people many decades later, bail out these same banks with our slaved earned waged taxed dollars, believing in a dream that would not become a reality without a lottery?

              Like lambs to a slaughter, we did nothing against it.

                   Like lambs on Broadway, we kissed pavement.

               Like lamb cakes during Easter, we offered our heads.



             History only changes when its people make it so/

              We are at the brink, of what I would consider another Cold-War, with Russia. Why is this? They sell arms to other countries. OOOOOOOWWWWW, call out the boogeyman! Like we didn’t support Iran, Iraq and even the Taliban, to later go for their annihilation, In Our Own Best Interests. Didn’t we support the Cubans with both military arms and training to sacrifice them during the Bay-of-pigs?

               In Our Best Interests.



Anyone, Please: From any country, nation or tiny village: What does: OUR BEST INTEREST really mean? Feel free to take this to its least common denominator to share your mental view or humble point of interest. Jump on this. You don’t love where I do.

            Allow me to go backward, to the then and when:

             World War Two heated up.

              AN: Authors Note: I have discussed certain areas of this in previous posts.

\

                Didn’t we, as a country, take the Japanese Americans land, property and their dignity away from them because of Pearl Harbor? Did we do the same of the Germans, Russians or Italians when they declared war on the USA?
              We treated those of Japanese origins as a different colour and in so doing, made them the Lesser-Americans than whites and blacks in our lands.

              During the Cuban Missile Crisis, did we intern those of Spanish speaking backgrounds?
         
              When World War II ended: did we give back to the Japanese Americans their houses, businesses, their orchards the lives they had known before? Did we even acknowledge the educations they achieved here before the war?

      No, we didn’t.

            We hit the proverbial ’RESET’ button long before there was such a term of meaning.

          And personally hitting that ’RESET’ button.

 

          What makes us human?

 

       Hitler had twelve million killed.

          Mussolini had some twenty million killed.

            Before 1490: The Mongols ruled Afghanistan. No known record of the dead.

               Australia: Black War. This was between the British and the Tasmanian Aborigines in the Van Diemen’s land. The Aborigines were virtually exterminated.

             Do your homework. Read and study.

 

       Much after the baby boom went BOOM, didn’t all our parents want us to have lives easier than they’d had? Didn’t they say this to us, pushing us to go further: I just want you to have better, easier things than I did?

         Sure they did.

       If We’re lucky, we make what half of them did 20 years ago with their, maybe high school degrees.

         My best year working for a huge company, and I have no complaints, with overtime made me 49, 000. My father, on the other hand, passing 20 years ago, with not even a high school degree, made approx 85k two years before his death….

           They so wanted to make things easier for us.





                                           So what went wrong?

 

            Greed? Self minded self indulgence? Faith in perceived gods they held most high?

 

 

            Where does this go? Where should I take this further? Emails, phone calls, where?

 

               What theories, by the questions asked here deserve answers?



             You decide.

                  Most Urgent: Why the United States oppose Russia on anything unless it gains them…

             Through some cash, some grain, some human lives from any country, why oppose? Yeah, we know the answer here….

              Some fucker has to get rich and make friends rich. THIS IS THE RULE OF THE LAND IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA…



               And at what point do we hear the sounds and see the sights of family and friends that passed before us to see this?

              Didn’t we disregard this as an event of folly…

           Wait til this future cold war burns hotter.

            Choose your own path,

Mark Williamn Darus

Monday, June 11, 2012

Suicide letters sent to the blog by loved ones left in their wake.

      Suicide letters from those left to find by those loved them and carried emotions.

      THEIR KIN, CLAN AND FRIENDS THEY LEFT BEHIND:

 

       This goes to the families, friends and others that you loved, cared about or had thoughts about the one that killed themselves and held a place in your live with most sincere of hearts. Be it from the pain of being used or the crash that sometimes hit’s the nonviolent psychopath.

       These two crossroads sometimes breed the same outcome. The victim and predator do have a second meeting point, which I find most interesting.

     That final, most total act of self-absorption.



       So desolate these Angels and Devils, running freely, playing freely, jumping happily, hungry to eat and tear apart, those contented by attention, some feeling a final encounter or those that wish to have a final audience with: Waste themselves either by being used or the depths of their using people as merely propellants for their mental, financial gains.


      A curtain closing moments slightly prior to the point of being that worthy of Shakespeare. Before eyes shut eternal ending painful thoughts intentionally shut down by conscious wishes for some sense of peace and tranquility: to atone, feel so some sense of grace and forgiveness for flagrant stupidity and ignorance. To say they were wrong to the ones that cared, loved and believed them to be ones worthwhile.

      As they die, both by their own hands and those worrying about a here-after.

 

       For the prey: The victim: Enough being way more than enough. Time to end and once again be free, new in innocents splendor and be reborn . Been used enough. Been embarrassed sadly by their own weakness and failed understanding to loved ones that warned them, albeit repeatedly, with both open hearts and sincere honesty. To close their eyes and sleep eternal. Some finding one that would slay them, meeting a physical killer half-way. To find their heaven. Their guiltless place from being physically wasted, killed and thus, blown away. To reach Heaven promised them in the Bible. Not committing suicide yet reaching the same outcome.

      Finding peace.

      That being death.



      For the Predator: Finding one like themselves and comprehending the ghastly ugliness of their action, their essence, their actions and seeing a profound sickness in their being and lives. Usually after embracing one that accepts them and points out what they are. To the predator, finally finding one of equal cadence, one like them, displaying sheer sensations, thoughts and desires. Slapping them as their mothers would, bringing them to some sad embrace of both reality and humanities sake. Years, decades perhaps, the nonviolent psychopath, by their own thoughts and desires took them away. No longer wishing to feel, to be hurt or used. Reaching some place, some neverland when all crashed down. To the point they once again realize.



       To point they once again allow themselves to feel.

 

      This being a point of equality. A  juncture  of convergence. Sad, rejoiceful meets  happy and depressing.

      The crossroads seeking forgiveness.


       A road where they die.





       <Authors note>

        Once again, and I so find myself saying this a great deal, thank you for sending me these wondrous letters born of experience and its fallout. Thank you for sharing both your pain and most importantly, some area to teach others.

       You have done this selflessly, perhaps to express warnings to others, perhaps to share grief’s felt on your behalf and free them, or to free ghosts of loved ones you’ve known.

 

       These are the letters prior to their deaths. Both found at scenes or found in pockets as some deaths were sought by foreign hands.

       Cry if you will. Free yourself to do so.



       What could possibly be more human than to let your eyes leak? Gasp and find hardness in holding, sustaining vital air in your lungs.

       Find some humanity in the now dead with their final written words.

       The way written without editing, typos corrected, honor to their words.

 

 

        Le Bel Age:



        To the families of loved ones deaths: I cannot find words to express thanks.

        No Froms or To’s will given here. I do this to honor both those that killed themselves and you the families and friends. They that passed know who they are.

      You that survived and pursue know whom you are.

        No disgrace, no remorse, only final words and your thoughts eventually given proper justice on this blog.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

                                  Le Bel Age:

_____________________________________________________________________________________





                I kill myself this alone night. I am not sorry to end this agony that fills me. I must end this madness and regrets of heart and minds,

            I am so ever sorry for what I have made my famly and friends feel and sadness great to their lives. I was fooled and humiliated, for this I can no longer stand in eyes of myself. I failed to see truths given me. So ashamed,

        Mother and father, please forgive the child you gave birth to. Sorry to diregard what you taughts me.

I given much words from others. Those give me hopes to find brightness and happynous to sustain me.

         You did not fail me.

     I love you all so much.

       Wrists slit. bathtub warm water, that of birth.

            Falling to peaceful droughsynous

           Must end

               Love you so ver

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

                    I have trashd so many.

     Wasted thooose that asked for it. Took their money and minds emotions to give me somethings. Grant me gaynes, and steroes…

     Pills fuckings wurds. If I cud be sory.

                           If cud feeeeels, I wood tri.

        I kant do shit,

                      Womns plygrnds 4 sx nt gns

           Diings nws.

                       Gnghts n srys,

         Sistrs,

                    I fld u’sss.

SORRRREEESSSSS.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

            Christ, where two begin areas I made nistakes?

      Meeeting her?

             To daze of serhing waks on beeches for waurm sunnsets. Rms in ams kisings.

                 This is diiing andits ok. Tiredes is I.

      Pleze fohgives kme.

Killing thoughtss of you all??>

                      I soo bevlived in her. So wisheddd to be wti hur. She made me fels aliv and needsed.

                                     I amn trashed nds wsted now. Sorry to hurts you alll so mcchu.

      I dids nt 2 whis t hrts uou’’’’s

             I fucks uyp.

   Sry

 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

        I once, for the first time in about three decades feel sorry for what I have done to women. I feel both pain and sorrow. I used women repeatedly, with no sense of guilt or remorse. I gained oral satisfactions and from a single finger to three fingerts over time to penetrate that anally.

        Most would grant me enemas on them. I’d sickly watch pressure build, watching discomfort press both eyes and breathing. I so appreciated the pain felt by weaker fools of humanity.

       I got a sense of strength of from bending, making them feel my will and them succumbing to their own weak self worth.

       Such a rush! Such a feeling of dominance! I was special. I was strong

       I was God!

       What crshaed me to finally end this”?
   
        I was visited my grndpants that I lovedd before, splliting lifes.

        Dreems… druigs and alcohol an failed blue penz fumbllings wit vraoyoins

         Diiiiiing nbiow,

         Flls facccccing shttti.

         Wrmth s nicee ddeth tks mmmme

         Sweat Geeshus, ddjnt men thurxz sssss

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

I was used by this guy and

 fuck that. I know be3tter.

Mons, dads, bruthers warned me about ,.

Dn0oe fourtths

U gvs shitt llils hominine fstrrrr

Jess zrry gives meeee

Diings,,,\

Gnjnma cuiaz smone to klli em. Ihpoes thye illwezs.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

         What can be said of someone as smart and educated as I before killing themselves? I am not, should not be considered a ignorant nor stupid woman. I have grown to affluence and stature. I have done this through both using men and keeping my shape from bulimia. Master of illusion and confidence of men that refuse to see and wish to have a trophy wife and blind themselves to all else.

        What do you want?

        I have debased, ashamed and degraded them from both pushing to get vasectomies to the point of sleeping with their friends.

        I have no regrets on this.

        I am simply bored.

        There is something else and I wish to find it.

        No regrets.

        Jacuzzi, warm water.

        Slitting wrists elongated, no suturing there….

        Good day.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

This is the end of me. Place neeeedlews finlas in emmeee.

Ahhhhssss.

So tyrd and sadd. Sorries to friends as ur all tht I hhad.

Plls. Fuciking dwoners crashing eplicsing …

Hhroin vians

Can flkly

Tu sys pn fllls don’t wnt cryumns

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________



What can I say as a fat female, weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds plus? I so wanted to be just loved and wanted and dare I say, admired. I wanted to be accepted by a man and not simply used for sex as I had before.

      Deer god!

I evens did right. Got married four times in front of uy0o to kill guilt on my p[art.

Don’t get me wrong, as this is my death note. I did try to gain attention from men through years suing the size of my tits and willingness to be laid.

          No9t wishing alonenous hatting my father. Shit he gave me being fat, sad and unwanted.

    Lord, forgive me. I wanted so t be wanted I would let them have me. Cars, abandoned house, cemetaries, giving blowjobs behind mons house.

Sorry jesus.

       Manic deprsiive they said I am. Got away froms you and mendicated. din't help.////

Failed at killing myself before

Will prevail this time.

                               Damn… finding it harders to seplel write.

           Ooverrdsoe gppring

                Flee no giult Mrak.

Tish nto yrou dnoing
dornwing drowins, ddrowning.
\]shit, mARK....
diiying.
mzzi uoy...

On thoer esid ess ouy.

ruoy erohs

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii\

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

rys

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 



      AUTHORS NOTE:

      This is part of the many recent letters sent to me by both family members and friends alike and their beloved departed.

      Keep this singular truth in mind: At no point did I ever ask for these things to be sent to me, nor did I ever wish for such abrasive endings of lives or sadness by those left in the harsh wakes of death.

      If I could cry, I have little doubt I would at their last words. Tears are so gone from me now. Sadness is, to me, a life left behind in dust. I find solace on god paintings in the sky. To stare at the clouds and view wondrous sights: an elephant, image white against sharp blue. Horses crossing one another, and snapping turtle going toward nothing with mouth open. I view to the sky for happiness as most things on this Earth fail in comparison to God, Jesus, and life beyond lies, compromise and plastic tears.

      I can only be objective to things where this blog is concerned.

      Humble apologies: I do not wish to state submissions you have given through both heart and soul as mere ’things’. They are not such as you most sadly feel them, and I, so grateful you would share them. Some things on my part I shall not edit. For this, apologies.

      I will, in due time, place your comments as those left behind by those leaving you, departing from all of us, your emotions, thoughts and hopes wish to place here, in this blog.

      I cannot do this without placing my wishes and keeping anonymity on your part. I said I would do this many entries ago. I have to have some peace in this blog created and sustained by me and three others and respect all that submit here without backgrounds they wished to give.

      In simple truth: the bereaved far to openly travel to lands they regret later on. So raw in emotion, so hoping to seek truth, affirmation for things that have little or no explanation they can drive themselves to the gates of madness.

      Sorry, I will not help you on this trip. I will post your thoughts. I will do this with no bearing on anything posted or your connection thereof.

      In conclusion to this entry: To those left in the murky waters yet white-capping on shores you hold close: The ones you loved that have passed futures are based on what you believe in in your mind. The memories, your memories , are what you hold as true. Do you hold happiness shared with them? Do you hold sadness of things they brought to your doorstep?

      Do you embrace this one, or cast them off, with fake shit you display at their funeral to save face?

      This is neither directed at no one nor any people of any land based on race, creed or heritage.

      With thanks, embraces as well as milk and kisses,

-Mark William Darus.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

2nd set of Phone interviews.

                 The second part of the Phone Interviews.




      THE QUESTIONS: (THE PREY)

      <Advise caller their name is not needed as this is a blind survey. Their surveys will be assigned a random name for categorization purposes only>

 

      General Information.

      Sex: Female

      Age: 51

      Race: White

      Body Style: Slim

      Highest level of education at the time of incident: Masters in communication, LISW and

     Library Science.

     Location: hiding from him in Canada.

     Interview name: Priscilla


 

 

     1. HOW COULD YOU BE SO BLIND AND NOT TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS? (this question being the POWER QUESTION to provoke responses, stir emotions and push them for a truthful answer)

     Pris: You must mean to ask. <she gasped for air. Sounding almost faint.> How could someone so educated like me be so self-screwed?

      2. DESCRIBE YOUR LIFE BEFORE YOU BECAME A VICTIM:

      Pris: I was all about learning. Didn’t matter what. I was diagnosed Obsessive/Compulsive after all.

     3. AS THE RELATIONSHIP STARTED, DID YOU FEEL ANYTHING THAT WOULD INDICATE TO YOU THAT YOU MAY BE ABOUT TO BE USED?

     Pris: What you mean to ask is this. <Agitated and angry> How could you be so ignorant? Right?

     Me: No. I asked that in the first question. Continue, please.

     Pris: NO!

 

 

     AN: Authors Note: With that, the interview ended, most abruptly. A highly audible ‘CLICK’ leading to a busy signal.

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

     QUESTIONS FOR THE PREDATORS:

     <Advise caller their name is not needed as this is a blind survey. Their surveys will be assigned a random name for categorization purposes only>

 

     General Information.

     Sex: Female

     Age: 33

     Race: White

     Body Style: Skinny as hell.

     Highest level of education at the time of incident: Masters: literature

     Location: New Your City: New York

     Name: Ellen.


 

 

 

     1. HAVE YOU ALWAYS BEEN THE SICK FUCKER OTHERS VIEW YOU AS BEING?

     Ellen: Most definitely! Is this a segway to better questions? I do hope so.

     2. WHEN DID YOU REALIZE YOU WERE DIFFERENT FROM OTHER PEOPLE?

Ellen: 5, maybe 7 years old.

     3. DID THIS BOTHER YOU IN ANYWAY, AND IF SO, HOW?

     Ellen: Bothered? Not in any respect. I liked controlling my parents.

     4. AS YOU PROGRESSED IN LIFE, HOW DID YOU LEARN TO MANIPULATE OTHERS?

    Ellen: Learn this from how I handled my parents. Mom had two still births before I popped out.

     5. WHEN DID YOU LEARN TO INTIMIDATE OTHERS?

    Ellen: when I didn’t get my way. If crying didn’t work, I’d have major tantrums. I’d smash shit, break vases, cause all sorts of embarrassments to my parents.

     Me: Let me clarify: At what age?

     Ellen: 12 or so.

     Me: How did you catch this?



     Ellen: I watched their facial responces. Granted, I did not know what the term was then. I’d pick up on their looks of shame and horror. And I would run with it to their giving in to me. They shut me up by giving me my way. Is that enough?

     Me: Yes, thank you.

     6. DID YOUR FAMILY KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON WITH YOU?

     Ellen: No sir! They had other things to worry about. Upper middle class whites worry more about social status than fucked up kids.

     7. WERE YOU SEXUALLY, EMOTIONALLY ABUSED BY YOUR FAMILY WHILE GROWING UP?

    Ellen: Honestly, Mark, no. I think it was quite the opposite in later years.

    Me; How’s that? Would you care to explain and if not, I understand.

    Ellen: Thanks for asking, Mark. I’d be happy to explain. I was 14-15 and I wanted to spend the weekend with my 20 year old boyfriend. His folks had this cabin. Nice seclusion. I wanted him to get me a car and knew I needed to put out. He thought I was much older than I was. A few kinky photos, enough people seeing us hugging, kissing, asking them to take photos of us and BLAM! I’d have his ass.

     Mom stood up to me and said no.

    I told her she better do as I say or else/

    She said go for it.
I did. I called an abuse Hotline. I told them she tried to sexually assault me. Within 12 hours they shot me away to a safe house. With one hour at the safe house, I split, called my boyfriend and had my weekend.

     Me: So you conned these professionals that believed in you?

     Ellen: Mark, it wasn’t that hard. They didn’t even call the cops til I was 48 hours from splitting the safe house. < in a voice sounding sympathetic, she mimics: She’s so troubled… must have a hard time dealing with things. Needs her space… I laughed at their ignorance! These people with degrees in social work and psychology. Those with educations so much higher than mine. I so owned them.

    Mark: How did this make you feel, Ellen?

    Ellen: Way fucking superior, that’s how.

    Mark: So you felt happiness?

    Ellen: NO! I felt bigger than them.

    Mark: How so?

    Ellen: They were like tiny ants under my size 12. First a glimpse of shadow, than squish. Mark, you must know the feeling of winning a head-game. I cannot believe you could start a blog like yours and not know this.

 

 

        8. AS YOU SLIPPED INTO WHAT MADE YOU BECAME, DID IT HAPPEN SLOWLY OR FAST?

     Ellen: Neither. I guess you could call it a learned response.

        9. AS IT OCCURRED, DID YOU HEAR VOICES, AN AUDIBLE SOUND LIKE THAT OF A CLOCK THAT MADE A SINGLE ‘CLICK’ OR ANYTHING THAT MADE YOU REALIZE YOU WERE CROSSING A TERMINATING POINT IN YOUR LIFE?

        Ellen: I heard the theme of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood and Sesame Street. That’s what I heard.

        10. DID YOU SEE ANYTHING WHEN CROSSING THIS SUBCONCIOUS/MENTAL LINE? (if asked: what do you mean? counter them with probing questions: DID YOU SEE BELOVED GRANDPARENTS, AUNTS/ UNCLES, SIBLINGS FADING FROM YOUR MINDS EYE, DISAPEARING INTO A BLACK, DESOLATE BACKGROUND ? DID YOU SEE ANYTHING LIKE DEER RUNNING ACROSS A FREEWAY GETTING NAILED BY CARS OR TRUCKS. A CHILD FALLING FROM A FIFTH STORY BALCONY? WATCHING A BROWN FALL LEAF FALLING SLOWLY FROM A TREE IN HIGH WINTER OR SUMMER?

    ElleN: HUH? I didn't hear or see a  damn thing.

     Mark: at what age did you feel you were differant than those around you?



     Ellen: At what age? Mark, that is far too advanced for any child 5-7 years old. C’mon.

     Me: Sorry. Just going thru the questions.

    Ellen: No sorry needed. I understand.

    Me: humph.

    Ellen: may we continue?

     Me: Yes. Let us do so.

     11. WHEN DID YOU LOOK AT OTHER HUMANS AS BEING A LESSER FORM, OR AS SOME WOULD SAY “A SPECIES APART” FROM YOU?

      Ellen: When I nailed my mom and manipulated a whole county of protectors. I thought: If with so little effort I could cause mom the quake as officials crashed the house and how I con the educated without practical knowledge of kids I could do anything. Sorry, I must come off as a monster. But they did make it easy for me.

     12. DID THIS KNOWLEDGE MAKE YOU MORE POWERFUL THAN OTHERS? AND IF SO, WHY?

     Ellen: Of course it did! In one weekend, I got my mom to obey me, a county to feel sorry for me and an asshole to buy me a car.

    Me: If you could state it simply, how would you describe this?

    Ellen: Mark, gotta love ya. I did this with looks of sheet ANGER at my mom, sobs and whimpers on the call the could and expressions of the same during the face to face with the country. The 20 year old, sorry, I don’t even remember what his name was. I gave him a sultry come hither glance I’d seen in many movies. He fell like a North Carolina coast house during a hurricane when I told him my real age.

     Me: So this made you feel powerful over others?

     Ellen: I know you are not a complete idiot. Of course it did! Christ, Mark. I know you have your answer. What’s this about?

     Me; Would you care to expand? Did you scream to yourself? Explode vocally far away from others as if in the woods or such?

     Ellen: FUCK YES, I DID! Who wouldn’t? They were twice my age and I toppled them!


 

     13. DO YOU LOOK AT HUMANS AS TOYS? <<<adding: AND I WON’T MAKE YOU GROVEL OVER THE CAT TOYING WITH THE MOUSE QUESTION>>>

     Ellen: <laughing and even snorting> Read over the last two questions, dearest Mark.

     14. ARE YOU PERSONALLY SUCCESFUL WITH MANIPULATING, INTIMIDATING AND USING OTHERS FOR YOUR GAIN?

     Ellen: That first weekend with my mom, county and boyfriend taught me the basics. The rest is just repetition with slight variations.

     15. DID YOU GET MARRIED AND IF SO, WHY?

     Ellen: I did! In fact five times.

    Me: Five times?

     Ellen: Of course! Gotta love prenupts. I haven’t worked a day with what assholes will sign before marriage.

 

     16. IF BEING MARRIED, WHY DID YOU CHOSE THIS PERSON? IF HAVING CHILDREN WITH THIS SPOUSE, WHAT WOULD YOU TEACH YOUR CHILDREN?

     Ellen: Whoa, Sherlock. Two questions at once? Trying to throw the mind scramble, aren’t you? One at a time, please.

     Me: Than go for it.

     Ellen: I got married for gain. Mostly monetary and social status. I saw female friends pic lesser fools for love. I simply wanted money. This equals not having to work, bow down to others or be made to feel frightened.

     Me: But you bowed down to these husbands. What was that about?

     Ellen: Mark, you are baiting me, aren’t you?

     Me: I’m a master at it.

   Ellen: I could so nail you with a joke. I will not do so.

Me: I think you just did. <laughing>

   Ellen: Sure, I sexually played these men. Why not? I saw what my friends had. Fools, all of them. I made these guys sign prenupts they thought would protect them… <low chuckle from her> Idiots, all of them.

    17. ARE YOU CONTENT WITH YOUR LIFE AT THIS POINT?

    Ellen: What would you think?

    Me: I think you must be. You seem to be most satisfied judging by your expressions and words.

    Ellen: I am. I made my life on MY TERMS. My likes and dislikes.

 

 

    18. IF NOT CONTENT, DO YOU THINK YOUR HUNGER WILL EVER SUBSIDE?

   Ellen: Mark, did you really ask me this question? There is no satisfying my hunger.

     19. DID YOU FIND PSYCHOPATHY: ANOTHER LIFE HELPFUL IN ANYWAY?

   Ellen: Dearest, Mark. Yes, I did. I found I am not alone in my ambitions and desires. I’m not a killer. I am a user, abuser and sucker of those that are stupid and weak.

 

    <<<At this point, go into idle conversation in areas they would choose to explore. Give them a chance at a Q&A about the BLOG and so forth. Show them respect.>>>

     Me: You sound like a Twisted Sister song.

     Ellen. <laughing, doing Dee Snyder> We’rrrrre not gonna take it!… <laughing louder, yet with a tone less edgy> Thank you for your blog, Mark. I somehow think you are giving warnings to others with words of myself and others. OHHHHH, BEWARE US! WE WILL EAT YOU, SUCK YOU LIKE A VAMPIRE AND CAST YOU TO THE CURB. KNOW US, FOR WE ARE MANY!

     Me: thanks.

     Ellen: Zo, Mark, <asking with a mock German accent> Vat kind of women do you like?

    Me: I really have no type. I do go towards those with long hair.

     Ellen: And vi is dis?

    Me: uhh, something about long flowing hair crossing over shoulders, covering chests?

    Ellen: Please, continue! Go forth!

    Me: I like long hair.

    Ellen: Favorite food?

    Me: Chinese. But I like to try different things.


    Ellen: What is the oddest thing you have eaten?

    Me: Duck-blood soup. I can’t remember the proper speeling: Chi Neenah? My family watched me eat this. I loved it. I also like my steak rare.

     Ellen: So, you like blood?

    Me: I guess I do. I liked that soup much the same as a rare steak.

    Ellen: I see. Can we continue without recording>

    Me: Of course! You are most pleasant to talk to…

 

       AN(authors note) and her and I spoke for about two hours. She became a contact of mine on FaceBook.

      Thanks, Ellen. Hope you like the Americanized name….

 

 

 

 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

 

 

 

     THE QUESTIONS: (THE PREY)

     <Advise caller their name is not needed as this is a blind survey. Their surveys will be assigned a random name for categorization purposes only>

 

     General Information.

     Sex: Male

     Age: 49

     Race: Black

     Body Style: Chubby, but I got muscles.

     Highest level of education at the time of incident: College dropout

     Location: Santa Claus Indiana

     Name: Shaft

 

 

    1. HOW COULD YOU BE SO BLIND AND NOT TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS? (this question being the POWER QUESTION to provoke responses, stir emotions and push them for a truthful answer)

    Shaft: I was a stupid mother fucker. I like chunky white bitches. I owned their asses. Owned them, got it you pasty faced white fucker!

     Me: Got it, loud and clear. Please don’t yell. It causes distortion.

      2. DESCRIBE YOUR LIFE BEFORE YOU BECAME A VICTIM:

      Shaft: I was a baller. I got them to do what I said. Chubby white women are stupid. I had my way with them, usually the first night.

      Me: So you found their cravings for attention and dove at it?

     Shaft: No, bro! I gave them some attention. I bought them drinks, danced with them. Told them what they wanted to hear. I did them a public service, you know? White guys wouldn’t give their hangin’ mudflaps a second glance, so I homed in on them like a missile headed for Bagdad. Ya feel me?

     Me: I have an idea. Sure.

     3. AS THE RELATIONSHIP STARTED, DID YOU FEEL ANYTHING THAT WOULD INDICATE TO YOU THAT YOU MAY BE ABOUT TO BE USED?

    Shaft: Fuck no, bro! I thought I had the bitch.

     4. HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN THIS RELATIONSHIP STARTED?

     Shaft: 20-fuckin’ 7.

      5. HOW LONG DID IT LAST?

     Shaft: Fuck. Way too goddamned long.

      6. AS THE RELATIONSHIP PROGRESSED, DID YOU INVITE FRIENDS OR FAMI,Y MEMBERS TO SHARE IT WITH YOU? (if yes, proceed to question below until answer is stated)

       Shaft: No way. I didn’t have women meet my friends. They’d try to go after them to fuck with me? Ya know? Take my bitch and make me look like a loser.

       AN<due to his answers, many questions omited. Call this learning interviews, but they seemed totally irrelevant to ask>

 

 

 

 

 

 

      9. WHEN DID YOU REALIZE YOU WERE BEING TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF?

       Shaft: When my friends said I hadn’t seen them, hung with them, in like weeks. Didn’t know this shit happened, bro.

      10. HOW DID YOU FEEL?

      Shaft: Felt like shit. These are my friends. It was like I didn’t know who there were anymore.

      11. DID YOU WISH TO KILL YOURSELF? (if the indication is YES, proceed below)

      Shaft: Fuck no. No bitch is worth that.

      12. DID YOU ATTEMPT AN ACT OF VENGEANCE IN ANY FORM?

      Shaft: Yeah I did! I sent some locals to step on her.

    13. WHEN DID YOU LEVEL OUT?

     Shaft: When? My bank accounts got drained, mother fucker!

     14. WHAT DID YOU LEARN AND HAS IT CHANGED YOUR VIEW OF ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS?

     Shaft: Romantic relationships, <mocking my voice> What the fuck are those?

     15. WHAT WOULD LIKE TO ADD? (freeform conversation that would initiate) let them speaking their mind.

     Shaft: She played my dick! Her mouth did the saxophone on me! Her pussy smelled like sweet butter. She knew what to say to me. I didn’t have to say shit to her. She just did it.

     16. DO YOU FIND PSYCHOPATHY: ANOTHER LIFE HELPFUL?

     Shaft: Fuck yeah! I read about bitches that do this shit. They ain’t gonna fuck with me again!

     Me: After all the women you used, did you ever think you had this coming?

     Shaft: What the fuck you mean?

      Me: Like, say, Karma?

     Shaft: Fuck you!

    CLICK!

          AN<and that was that>

 

 

 

 

 




_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

      These three interviews, now totaling 8 to appear on this blog, took much time in transcribing to give them justice. Unlike the first set placed here, these required a great deal of back-tracking, to add both the subtleties of tonal inflection and attitude by those answering. These three took me about 7 hours to place out to typed words.

      Call this a labor to the task: Gaining information without judgment, most happy with the results.

     Thanks to those of these three.

     Humbly,

     Mark Willaim Darus.

Monday, June 4, 2012

To The Visitors, Contributors, and People of this Earth. Thank you!.

       To you, This Not Gentle Planet Earth.

 

        Where to begin…

        When I started this place: Psychopathy: Another life, I had no idea nor hopes it would ever reach the places it has. Like a tiny snowball descending down some mountain pass. It seems to keep growing as it moves and picks up speed.



        The tiny snowflakes adding to the whole, joining, expanding, reaching out and going further. The people of many lands read and pass to friends, coworkers and family, creating a momentum that surpasses my wildest dreams and imagination in both scope, size and sheer range. I am blown away by this.

        I wish to give thanks to you who have visited the Psychopathy: Another Life I started a mere three months ago today. To the people that have visited, commented, emailed and shared their lives with me. To those that humbled me with phone interviews, where questions ansered with voices and emotions were given freely to me in hopes by them to share and teach others.



       There are far too many of you to name individually, and I wouldn’t based on my anonymity guidelines unless seriously pressed to do so.



       Still, to give honor and thanks, let me do so to the lands you speak proud of with boldness, inner strength and audacity. You do your homelands proud! I list your countries in order of appearance. (or at least I will try to. I have been known to sometimes fail on such details. Humble apologies on my part. )

       I bow to all of you!

       29 Countries in all. So far.

The United States of America

Russia

Ukraine

Germany

Canada

United Kingdom

Sweden

South Africa

Australia

India

Latvia

Bulgaria

Czech Republic

Japan

Austria

South Korea

Tanzania

Columbia

Norway

Finland

Romania

Italy

New Zealand

Ireland

Venezuela

France

Hungary

Israel

Wales


China




       Thank you so very much!

 

 

       In the last week I ventured to two bookstores, searching for more information on the subject of my fascination, Apparently, a subject that others wish to learn about as well. I found nothing in regards to nonviolent psychopaths. I found this odd. I can only think of two professionals that have given any illumination on this land that carries one of the darkest minefields of the mind. To those that cunningly place them under gentle grounds and those that so innocently tread on them.



        To Dr. Robert Hare and Dr. Hervey Cleckley: I can’t possibly express gratitude enough to tell you how you have re-fired a mind that sat dormant for decades: the mind sitting like an idle schoolboy impatiently waiting for the right teacher to make things matter. To make sense ito a mind that dwelled on chaos and confusion and not knowing why.

 

      For possibly the first time in my life, approaching age 50, I feel I have actually done something that mattered in broad scope.

      For this: I bow and curtsy to you, the people of the Earth.

      Mark William Darus: June 3 and 4 of this 2012.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Global Mental Health: You are not alone on this EARTH.

   Inspired by both Facebook chats and emails from others.

I offer a point of assistance in locating help for things troubling both mind and spirit.

I say again: I am NOT a trained professional in the world of psychology.

I will be glad to give locations that may help you, friends or family members in need of help in the depths of the mind. If asked questions of a personal, private note, I will respect you anonymity and either email you or call you at your request if given a number to reach you. I will get a headset, thus making internet conversations more affordable. I will post this announcement when it occurs. That day will occur soon. It is so cumbersome to type when talking is much more effective. More human, hearing inflections of voice and sensing, perceiving things that can only occur during human personal connections.

For example: Help in the UK

http://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/contact-us/our-offices/

For China:

http://www.cmha.org.uk/



For Canada:

http://www.mentalhealthcanada.com/

 

If you can’t find help, I humbly will give it my best shot to assist you no matter what part of our ever shrinking planet you live in. In time, I may attempt a suicide hotline, but that is sometime off in the future.

I will NEVER ask for a donation or credit card number. I will never ask for anything of a financial nature.



What I will ask you for is honesty when you email/speak to me. I ask you to expect rough questions that will aid you down your road.

Note This: I am blunt and to a huge, distasteful point. I can be looked at as cold, insensitive and uncaring. Through those gifts I can be objective in your situation.

Please keep this in mind: I will NEVER post anything in my blog that you do not wish to be posted. I will not use aliases in reference to your concerns whatsoever to further this blog in any way, shape or form.

If you hadn’t read the posts in the beginning:

I am not a trained mental health professional.

I am not a trained counselor.

I am not a doctor.

What I am is someone who does things others neither will not try nor attempt to assist with without money.

I do not believe my Higher Power gave me the tools to help for personal gain. I look at my brain/mind and thought processes as a gift from above.



To help others regardless of disagreements of beliefs, race or genders. To do things we can for others in the plain truth to help.

I am one that believes in doing no harm, either physically or mentally to anyone seeking help.

 

I will be honest and blunt.

Mark William Darus.