Kill people

I've become somewhat terrified that this is my end. Since I was a kid I was always really morbid and such, but that's not why. This isn't some "I'm so fascinated with death" kind of things. I just used to joke that when I grew up I wanted to be a serial killer. I'm beginning to worry, as I get older, if this will come true.

I just don't know how to handle things and people anymore. I spent so long, so long figuring out what was right and wrong, and why it's right and wrong, and I developed my morality to a personal level. And I go through my life trying my best to be good, and help others. I give strangers rides, I help people whenever I can, and I'm generally nice. I'm always honest, especially romantically, and go to great lengths to make sure I don't deceive people. In return, I'm given bile. I'm stuck at a job that can't even feed me, with a boss who does everything in her power to sabotage me mentally, socially, and emotionally. My car keeps getting broken into by neighborhood kids, regularly wiping out any money I manage to save on new windows, the worst part of which being that I'm not really being robbed because I have nothing, they're just breaking my windows for fun. I haven't had a date in years. I haven't had a relationship last more than a month in a decade. A. Fucking. Decade. The douchiest guys I know, who call girls bitches and sluts behind their back, get every attractive girl that even appears in my life. I watched yesterday as a girl, beautiful, smart, and nice, sat there trying to vie for the attentions of an acquaintance of mine, who was too busy texting his new flavor of the week for him to pay her any attention. She left today for a modeling shoot. She will probably never even notice me in that way. This isn't just her. This is every girl that comes into my life. I don't know what it's like to be someone's choice.

So, I'm beginning to have serious doubts about being a good person. It has done nothing for me. All the emotional fulfillment that I'm supposed to feel just gets undercut by the rampant depression from dealing with the consequences of being a good person. Nobody else wants to be good, they just be as bad as they can get away with and leave the rest of us to foot their bill. Why should I keep going? Why should I give strangers rides, why not rob them? I need money. Why not just take what I want from the world? It's taking everything I have, slowly. I have almost nothing left for the world to take from me. I have no money, no love, and little in the way of possessions. Even my brain is going away as I get closer to the Alzheimer's which is destined to eradicate all the knowledge I've built in my studies.

It's just getting hard to see this life of mine concluding without me killing someone, at the least myself.