I'm sorry, please forgive me, everything is falling apart.  I've lost control and I don't know how to get it back.  My life is to meaningless and my goals are worse than pointless.  I've tried to live a good life, a useful life but in the end it has been a waste of a life.  

    If people were being kind, they would call me “dull” or maybe “bland”.  I am bread and water when they were promised the finest French cooking.  I'm so boring I think my skin is turning grey.
    
    I have intentionally made my life like this.  It's my mask.  My protection for the rest of the world.  I am not stable, my mind takes me places that only Dante would dream of.  My thoughts of blood and violence are spilling over into reality.  I didn't mean to hurt him.  He pushed me too far and my mask just came clean away.  

    When I had finished only his dental records could identify him.  Maybe it was his fault.  I like to think it was his actions that led to his death but I would only be lying to myself.  He was just the sacrificial lamb to my own personal slaughter.

    Everything had been going wrong for a while and I could feel the anger and hate surfacing from time to time but I hoped I could control it.  Even then, I knew something bad was going to happen but I guess we all live in some form of denial.  

    It did feel good to rip him apart.  All the blood and bits of brain left on the concrete was as beautiful to me as any Angel or sunrise.  The release I felt afterwards was the best high I've ever experienced.  Better than sex, better than life itself.  Like any high, it soon led to my come down and the urge to reach that high again.

    I have tried various narcotics to control my nature but in the end it was to strong to be denied.  I really want to stop this before it consumes me but it has reached a critical point, there is no turning back.  I know what I really am and worse, I actually like it.  I have only one chance left before I succumb to the devil inside.

    This is essentially my confession.  I know I must never be allowed to walk the streets again.  These terrible urges will take hold and I will not be able to maintain control.  Someone else will die and it will just make me want it more and more.

    The poison flowing through my veins will stop my heart in only a few minutes.  It is the cowards way out and I know that the people deserve justice but I don't care.  Self sacrifice is the best option for all concerned.  My mask is broken and my head is full of hate, so it's time to say goodbye.  I hope no-one remembers me.