I hate bullies. Holden Caulfield fantasied about shooting a guy in the elevator and watching him die, because he bullied him out of $5. I’m like that. There are some people who make fun of me all the time that have gang ties or older brothers that I can not say anything too. Every time these people make fun of me I picture myself taking out a gun and shoving it in their face. They would be scared, since they themselves are nothing with out their backup. Then I would ask them to walk quietly into my garage, where I would pistol whip them to death and then pump their bodies full of bullets. Since they are dead they can not tell their brothers or friends what had happened and Iwould be free of torment. That is the fantasy, to actually be able to do something about someone else teasing me and not being defenseless. The violent murder is just a product of my rage. Once I workout the violence in these fantasy goes down a bit.
My form of road rage takes the following, bizarre, form:
When I am really upset about some schmuck whose Driver’s License was obviously issued by a mentally ill Orangutan on 'shrooms, I have this very intense, very real image in my brain of a GIANT METAL FOOT (like the size of a cargo container) SLAMMING DOWN on the offender’s vehicle, smashing it as flat as a fly under a swatter. A second later, in my vision, I feel the slight bumpbump as my car drives over the slightly raised area where the driver and vehicle have merged with the roadbed.
Of course, it never actually happens, and a second later I am glad I don’t actually have Telekenesis. If I did, at least 4 or 5 people would die mysteriously every day along the route of my commute. 
Why, funny you should mention it. Just this evening I envisoned myself hurting my SO, who managed to break the tail light of my brand new-only-had-it-for-2-days-Crossfire.
But instead, I calmly walked back inside and into the bedroom, where I watched movies until just a bit ago. I will start speaking to him eventually. After all, it was an accident. But, Damn, just Damn! This is why we can’t have nice things!
Haven’t considered bodily harm, but there have been a few people that I’d have liked to have exacted a “cruel intentions” style revenge upon.
Such as having some gorgeous woman seduce their husband, take pictures, and then send them to her. Hire actors to play mafia like thugs to “visit” the perp’s place of work and cast suspicions upon his character.
Only, not such simple ones. Ones with a LOT more planning, evil and bang for the buck. Something Sidney Sheldonish, only that would work in real life.
But, I’ve NEVER ever done anything other than fantasize about it.
Not violence to people so much as violence to the equipment they operate…
Too loud, thumping and distorted stereo? My Mind Rays would cause a dead short in you speaker wires and fry that POS sound sytem.
Cut me off in traffic? My Mind Rays cause a a fatal malfuction in your engine…causing you to spend thousands to repair…
I’ve got a bat and a list, I’m just waiting for the onset of anarchy, but a well placed riot will suffice.
For those car incidents, I really, really, really want a rockect launcher. However, I’ve been working on a vehicle disablement system in my head for months, since the likelyhood of Kragen’s or Pep Boy’s selling rocket launchers is kind of remote.
This may sound scary but sometimes I seem to fantasize about hurting or killing people everyday. I will sometimes even imagine killing or torturing a friend or acquaintance that has not done anything wrong to me, and I have also imagined killing people I see say at the mall, school, or whatever…It kind of freaks me out sometimes but I have never acted on it and have probably only been in less than two or three physical fights in my life and they were really only like minute long scuffles that no one got hurt in and were started by someone else.
:eek: :eek: :eek:
An old, dear friend of mine is sleeping in my apartment as I type this. The reason he’s sleeping here, not with his wife, several hundred miles away, is because a close, trusted friend of theirs is in the process of destroying their marriage and making him out to be a sexual predator. He’s not. If he were, he wouldn’t be sleeping here. Last night, I held him while he cried. At this point, it’s unlikely his marriage will survive. Last summer, that same so-called friend tried to persuade him to end his marriage; he refused. Unfortunately, his wife couldn’t or wouldn’t withstand their friend’s onslaught when their friend targeted her a few months ago.
Yes, I’d like to hurt this woman. Yes, I’d like her to get her to understand the pain she’s inflicted on two of the best people I know. My friends’ marriage was a living, breathing, beautiful thing. Now, it’s nearly dead.
My religious principles do not allow me to harm people. Much as I may want to, I can’t verbally flay them the way I’ve seen them flay others. I can’t make them atone for the damage they’ve done or do to them as they have done to others. I’m human enough to want to, though, and wanting to do so on behalf of others doesn’t make wanting to do so any less wrong. Yes, I’ve wanted to hurt people, and sometimes, I have.
CJ
There was a kid in junior high whom I despised so much. He was pure evil and he went out of his way to torment me in school and around town in places he knew I liked to go to, but stopped going to once he and his asshole buddies hijacked my former venues. I won’t list all the nasty things this menace did to make life hell for me. God, how I just wanted to hit that worthless prick in the face and then in the stomach, and once he was down on the ground writhing in pain I’d continue my attack and keep kicking him and beating the shit out of him until he was knocked out. I also had a lot of fantasies involving chain saws, knives, guns and gravity (pushing him off a cliff). It scares me to think of how badly I wanted to torture this spawn of Satan. To this day I cannot bring myself to forgive him. My vitriol towards him still burns hot and strong just by thinking about him. I really hope he burns in hell someday.
The Sims game is very therapeutic for my aggressions.
Recreate the person I’m pissed-off at, and then torture the buggers.
Nothing like a God complex to make you feel better. 