The criminal friend

God is everywhere, he is the “being”. We all participate in this, since we all “are”. And I hate this. I do not wish to exist, to be. The creator did not do us a favour, since existence is suffering. And Jesus is the allegory of suffering: a man who was betrayed by friends, kissed by the one who delivered him to the enemy, and eventually abandoned by “God” on the cross. God is an entity who created us and abandons us every single day. I hate God, even if he cannot know. He is not someone, he is something we all participate in.

Yesterday I went out with my University mates. It was nice. They are still innocent, all apart from one. He has a very similar life as I have. He is schizophrenic, but ended up in jail and not in a psychiatric hospital. He knows he is able to kill. In the same way I know it. I know I could take life, exactly as I know I could never give life. I would never give birth to a child, that would be worse than killing. A newborn has the right not to exist. This guy, we will call him Al, was sentenced to prison for attempted murder. He almost killed a man. Then, Doctor Livio (yes, “my” Doctor Livio) was called to judge if he was mentally able to understand what he had done. Doctor Livio is the forensic expert here in the region. Al remained in prison almost one year, then he was released. On probation. Now it is all over, he graduated with me, but I can sense he has a criminal heart. My heart is like his one.

Al told me that Doctor Livio and his expertise were a farce. He saw him once, and he stated that Al is schizophrenic. For the price of 27.000 francs. No, I did not think that Doctor Livio was so greedy. I do not have a high opinion of medical doctors, they are in general arrogant know-it-all’s. Even medicine students think they are something better than others. And I never met a medical doctor who was able to show a minimum of intelligence and sensitivity. They just know how to use computers. Al is the kind of man who likes to go into fights, he gets into troubles… I was like him, years ago. I used to attack male nurses in the hospital, the ones who could knock me down with one slap. I wanted to fight, to have body contact, to harm, to let it all out. My aggressiveness was a silent scream for affection, and I still feel I want to kill someone. Despite the wise path I have undertaken, I am likely to kill one day, and to end my life locked up somewhere out there. My phantasies are sometimes so strong that I feel like imploding, and I suppose that my patience will collapse, at some point, and I will lose my self-control. I fear it, but no prison is more restrictive than the prison I am locked in living with someone as horrible as my mother.

Honestly, I am antisocial, narcissistic, most of the time paranoid, highly neurotic. I lost my faith in everything I believed in. Or maybe I never truly believed in anything. There is only one thing that gives me healthy pleasure, and that is knowledge. I can be gathering knowledge all life long, but one day I will be forced to use that knowledge for something practical. And I do not think I will be able to do so. Fortunately, my life is likely to be half over.