Im becoming increasingly violent. Its her, i know it. Somehow the M shortens my fuse and make this nightmare become reality. Ive always wanted to become what i fear, she wants me to become what i fear. Its consuming. Its not the feeling of someone watching you when you have soap in your eyes, or maybe the shadow fluttering before your eyes, this is the all consuming fear that englufs you while your alone. The kind that starts at the base of your spine and you get a shiver before you even know what it is your going to think about, then the images come. The images never leave, you can rationalize all you want but they never leave untill you purge them in the usual sinister fashion.

Maybe i just have an overactive imagination, maybe this is the anxiety getting to me.

But its not just when im alone, the fuse is gone when im around others too. It almost disturbs me how violent my fantasies have become. Kill the bastard and fuck his skull on the barstool, they will all love you as you swell and show them your pride. Fuck the mother fucker right there.