Actualization
The hardest part of killing someone is admitting that you want to. Once you get over the hurdle of honestly stating that you actually would like to place your hands around someone’s neck and squeeze until the breath won’t come to their lungs, the act of planning and executing your plan is mere formality. The problem for most people is that they brush away that first homicidal notion as a passing fancy and not a true desire to rid themselves of some annoyance.
“I want to kill him,” thinks John when he sees Fred.
John never realizes that this thought is an honest assessment of his true feelings concerning Fred. No, John chalks up the thought to an extreme emotional reaction that’s expressed in a ridiculously extreme thought. John convinces himself that he doesn’t actually want to kill Fred. Instead, he is just very angry at Fred and has some issues to resolve with the man who’s been his roommate for ten years. John has entered a state of emotional dishonesty merely because he is uncomfortable with the notion that he would actually want to cause someone bodily harm. This lie makes it easier for John to lie to himself in the future about other issues.
Instead of bottling that rage and convincing himself of what he doesn’t want to do, John should embrace his true emotion.
“I want to kill him.”
This is pure emotion. It’s a visceral reaction to the sight of Fred. Fred the asshole, the man who every morning bores John with details about his mundane life. Fred the asshole, the man who won’t give John the common courtesy of staying out of the apartment when John is trying to have an intimate moment with Francine. Fred the asshole, the man who doesn’t pass along phone messages, drinks John’s milk, eats John’s food, and has on more than one occasion tried to catch glimpses of Francine naked. John’s desire to gouge out Fred’s eyes is an honest desire. It’s the true measure of his frustration with a room mate that shows absolutely no consideration for anyone else.
“I want to kill him.”
Of course you do, John. Why not accept that? There’s nothing wrong with wanting to kill him. After all, isn’t the rage tearing you up inside? Aren’t you sick of the taste of bile that rises to your throat every time he enters the room? Even if you move out, what memories do you take with you? Are there any good memories? No. You’ll live your days frustrated over the fact that Fred was allowed to run roughshod over you. You’ll have to swallow the resentment you feel towards yourself when you look in the mirror and remind yourself of the million grievances you left unaccounted for.
“I want to kill him.”
How does that knife feel in your hand, John? You’re perfectly reasonable in your desire to take the knife and plunge it into Fred’s neck. He’s there asleep on couch. It’d be quick and easy, John. Imagine the satisfaction of feeling the initial pressure of his skin against the knife’s tip give way to the easy smooth feel of the blade slicing veins, arteries, muscles, and flesh. It’s not crazy to want a life free of this person, John. It’s crazy to not want some type of validation for the grief he’s caused you.
“I want to kill that asshole.”
I know I’m right. The knife feels like it’ll go in so easily. Fred will never see it coming. Hell, even if he did, it’d show a level of perception he’s never shown in the entire time we’ve lived together. Even now as I wave the knife in his face, he doesn’t wake up. Slicing him open is just the logical outcome here. He’s never shown any remorse for how he treats me. I’m only providing the final lesson to him. No reason not to go through with it.
“I want to kill him.”
There’s so much blood, but apart from that…it’s amazing how easy this was.
