She had the world

I find it rather.. intriguing that I'm so fascinated by psychopathic serial killers.
It's their psychological state you know. The fact that they're smart enough to know that what they're doing is wrong, they're smart enough to avoid the authority and prevent themselves from getting caught. However, at the same time, they're not that smart as to not commit those killings in the first place.

And they do it for fun too.
Because they feel like it.

Having no conscience, no remorse. That would provide them with such a care-free life.

Oh no. I don't want to be like them. Because I do have conscience and my Ad-Din has set guidelines to my life and I intend on following them.
But they're just so fascinating.
Well besides the usual stuffs; inhuman, cruel.

But of course this fascination of mine is everything but new. TV Shows play such important role in my life to the point of patheticness.
BUT no. I refuse to judge myself. If I want to be pathetic, I will be pathetic.

And this post would be another incoherent ramble by yours truly.

It just strikes me how.. poor I do in creative writing. I'm just not creative you know. But I love that subject. I just don't have any flare in it. My story would be filled by big words I googled without any real depth to it. I want to write pieces that touch people. That would make people stop and think.
Alas, things that I'm passionate to write about are the things that the mass find hard to relate to.
Things like well, serial killers.

And you can't be all touchy feely when you write about serial killers can you? Well even if you can, I don't want to. I want to inspire fear. But I can never get afraid by my own stories.
And that is caused by under-imaginative behaviour. I can't imagine those stuffs that I write so how can I expect anyone else to understand them.

I'm facing a lot of dilemmas as of right now. Admittedly, they're not very significant dilemmas. But they're dilemmas nonetheless.

Well, rant over.