“Indifference to me, is the epitome of all evil.”
― Elie Wiesel
Psychopathy is so attractive.
There’s such an appeal to a man without feeling. A man without feeling feels no hurt, which sounds comforting. To have a man around that doesn’t hurt is to have a strong, solid rock to attach yourself, unwavering to the degrading, emotional elements that always accompany life.
How freeing it would be to live like that! To not worry about the heaviness of guilt, grief, regret… I can’t help thinking about how much more I could accomplish if I didn’t have my feelings to weigh me down.
I have a theory that psychopathy is a spectrum, and I am at the furthest end. If psychopaths feel nothing, I feel everything. If nothing affects the way they act and think, everything affects me. I feel too much. I feel it all, and to a heightened degree. Then again, that’s an extremely hyperbolic assertion. The idea that I believe I feel more than the average person is grandiose and narcissistic, two qualities of psychopathy. Maybe I’m closer-to-center than I thought. I guess the next step, then, is to pretend.