This is about my isolation from the outside world and lack of inner security. I do not want anyone to explore my inner world. In truth, I have never faced myself.
What I am doing now is not for myself, but for you and me. Therefore, give me more love.

If there is truly something I want, I will say it directly without concealment. I reject social etiquette interfering with my interactions.
In reality, I have no concern about speaking bluntly regardless of consequences.

I possess all human characteristics—flesh, blood, skin, hair—but lack any identifiable emotions except greed and disgust. Something terrible is growing wildly inside me. I don't know why. I feel I am on the edge of lethal madness.
My pain is enduring and profound. I do not wish for the world to improve for anyone, nor for anyone to be spared. Yet even after confessing, I find no relief. I cannot escape my mistakes, nor gain deeper self-understanding. This confession is meaningless.

Long ago I questioned if I completely lacked empathy—clearly, I already knew the answer. My total absence of remorse after killing cats terrifies me (though animal empathy may not be a valid measure). I refuse to revisit childhood experiences.

I still do not know my sexual orientation—whether attracted to men or women. I feel no guilt, no shame, no empathy. Currently, I only fear the law and public judgment.
I will never betray my own thoughts. That is all.

In reality, sex merely relieves my stress. This anxiety—I don’t know how to manage it—but pleasure lowers my guard against reality. After the climax, I re-examine myself. This cycle repeats endlessly, still without remorse. Now, abstaining from sex leaves pressure with no outlet. I feel myself nearing the edge of lethal madness. I need stimulation—constant neural triggers—to achieve pleasure without breaking abstinence.

All failures exist only in the mind; all successes likewise. In my perspective, there is no distinction between objective and subjective.

Extreme narcissism. Perfectionism. I crave control over others but detest those I cannot control; I despise controllers. I don’t consider myself normal, nor am I following trends. Every action follows my own will. I fear that when I enter society, my sense of shame will completely vanish. I believe this is entirely possible.