I don’t need motivation.

It’s not that I don’t want to.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to.

There is this certain palpable radiance when it happens.

It’s unexplainable, really.

Like a spiritual and sexual experience in a confluence....like converging chaotic rivers.

I wish it were easy to dissect.

It’s not.

You see, I understand this for what it is.

I see the moral tangibility to it all.

I see the aura in its hues of light to dark, yellow to red.

It’s not that I don’t know what i’m doing is wrong.

I know it is, I need it to be.

There is a symbiotic relationship between it being so wrong, but feeling so right.

It’s God-like, you know?

Life becomes contingent on my decision.

What I understand most is the human condition.

And how some people don’t deserve theirs.

Which is another pillar to my reasoning.

I don’t need any motivation, it’s my euphoria, my dopamine......my pleasure.

There is no anger associated to them.

I am methodical, and precise.

I leave nothing.

I don’t hide them because I don’t need to.

My profession allows me discretion, and the ability to quantify a carbon based life.

Quite lovely understanding chemicals and the bag of chemicals that is our bodies.

I am nothing glamorous.

I am quiet and unseen.

Extroverted enough to be loved.

Introverted enough to considered a madman.

I will say this, as I only have 13 minutes before I meet my next....victim if you want to call them that.

I have only one haunting aspect to all of this.

Their eyes.

I still see everyone of them.

I still see the shock and fear.

All 46 pairs, as clear as sunlight.

Every color, every shape.

In my dreams, in people I see on the street, when I close my own eyes.

I see them, incessantly, shaking sometimes in violent vibrations.

Truthfully, it may be my death one day.

And rightfully so.

They will come for me, they always do.

I will greet them as old friends coming to welcome me to my hell.

Uh oh, 13 minutes is up, I am meeting her at the corner coffee shop.

I am always early.

Number 47.