The Collective

The Collective: We would like to explore your aggression and co-occurring fear-based thinking. Start with Bruce. You hated him for his constant attacks on Sam.

Me: Yes, I stalked him. The soldier in me was coming out.

The Collective: Explain please.

Me: It started innocent enough. Me and Fat Mat were shooting plums off a tree with our new BB guns. We were all alone and having fun. Then Bruce and Kimbal showed up.

The Collective: You were afraid of Bruce. Were you also fearful of Kimbal?

Me: They were both 16 by then. They both hurt people and pets. Bruce and Kimbal together were bad news. Bruce had poisoned our neighbors pet Basset hound. Bruce bragged about it. He laughed about it.

The Collective: This situation with the dog disturbed you?

Me: He was a great dog, loving and happy with everyone. I always felt that Bruce might kill me. Kill me like he killed the dog. Bruce had tried to smash my head with a rock at the bus stop about a month earlier. When I saw him with Kimbal that day I got scared and angry.

The Collective: Why.

Me: Kimbal had no problem hurting my six-year-old little brother a few weeks prior. He hit my brother in the eye with a pool cue at the rec center. My little brother was born with a damaged left eye. Kids made fun of him. Kimbal was a particularly cruel fuckhead. Bruce and Kimbal were almost always together. I was afraid of both of them.

The Collective: Please share with us what happened at the plum tree.

Me: I shot Bruce in the nuts.

The Collective: We know that. We want to better understand your thought process. Elaborate please.

Me: It’s hard. Why so long between convos?

The Collective: Time is different for us.

Me: How so?

The Collective: Later. Please elaborate.

Me: Ok. Bruce and Kimbal came around a blind turn on the path by the plum tree. I had just put a 177 pellet in my pellet gun. I only had a few pellets that day and this was my last one. I had lots of BBs. My pellet gun took both. Things might have been bad for me if not for that pellet.

The Collective: How so?

Me: A bb has less destructive power.

The Collective: Interesting. You are thankful for that pellet?

Me: Yes. Why all this interest in me shooting Bruce in the balls?

The Collective: We are evaluating your use of selective empathy and rational self-interest in your decision-making process.

Me: Why?

The Collective: Try to remember your thoughts on that particular day. Your thoughts as an 11-year-old boy.

Me: I’ll try. I had loaded that pellet and pumped the BB gun 10 times for maximum pressure. About 900 feet per second velocity. I was considering which plum to shoot. The fat purple ones exploded when you shot them with a pellet on max velocity. Me and Fat Mat were shit hot shots and we loved to compete. Fat Mat was really accurate. Bruce the fuckwad and Kimbal the fucktard creeped up on me and Fat Mat unexpectedly.

The Collective: Did they threaten you?

Me: Bruce sneered at me, stepped towards me and said, “give me the gun kid.” He reached towards the barrel, and his hand was less than a foot away. Bruce looked so confident and arrogant that I couldn’t resist. He was positive that my gun was now his.

The Collective: What did you do?

Me: I lowered the barrel directly at his penis and fired. He always wore tight jeans, so the target was easy to hit at that range. The barrel of my BB gun was about 6 inches and 900 feet per second from his nutsack.

The Collective: What happened after that?

Me: Bruce fell down, Kimbal ran like a bitch.

The Collective: Please elaborate. How did you feel? What did you think about when shooting Bruce?

Me: I remember being in shock. I never realized how powerful a BB gun can be. Bruce was squealing like a hog and clutching his balls. He was writhing on the ground and grinding his teeth. His face was white.

The Collective: White? Do you mean pale?

Me: I mean white, like the underbelly of a shark white. Bruce was also wearing white jeans, and he looked like he was on his period.

The Collective: How did Bruce react overall?

Me: He made some awesome noises. I never heard anyone make noises like that. He had a death grip on his balls, and he was wrenching his nuts away from his body and then shoving his clenched fist deep into his crotch. I thought he would rip his own balls off his body. He did this over and over again. His eyes were wide open and rolled back. He was slobbering, crying, grunting, and screaming.

The Collective: How did you feel?

Me: It was both alarming and funny. One second, I thought Bruce was going to stomp me into the ground and take my BB gun. One second later Mat was pointing his BB gun at Kimbal and Kimbal was running away. I couldn’t believe that Bruce was spasming helplessly in the dirt. I remember laughing while engulfed within a terrible and joyful rage. I just stared at Bruce.

The Collective: Were you frightened? What were your dominant feelings?

Me: I felt a love and longing for more violence. I was fearless. I felt powerful and crazy.

The Collective: Crazy? Do you mean angry?

Me: I felt no anger, just a perfect, soothing hatred. I was immediately blessed with a precisely focused, savage purpose. I was no longer afraid. The act of shooting Bruce in the nuts was cathartic. I felt freedom from fear. I had never felt freedom from fear until that beautiful day. The absence of fear-based thinking affected my body. I felt lighter. I felt powerful. I felt limitless.

The Collective: Limitless?

Me: I felt like I could jump 10 feet high. I was also overcome with a lethal and beautiful calm.

The Collective: A sense of calm?

Me: A sadistic, deliciously malevolent and tranquil mood settled in. I loved it. Still do. Still feel that way sometimes. Only for the right person of course.

The Collective: Go on. What happened next?

Me: Mat screamed for me to run many times, but I ignored him.

The Collective: What is your dominant memory? You felt no fear? No empathy for Bruce in that moment? No regrets?

Me: Fuck empathy for Bruce. If I could have face fucked his mouth with a fat frozen turd I would have done it bare handed. I thought seriously about skull fucking his eye with the steel barrel of my Crossman.

The Collective: What about fear?

Me: Fear was a distant presence but unable to affect me. The absence of the effect of fear brought forth a dark and magical epiphany.

The Collective: Describe this epiphany please.

Me: Everything seemed to slow down. I knew for the first time in memory what it was like to have fear present yet not fear anything or anyone. I liked it. A monstrous and resolute peace came over me. Ever since that day, no matter what I have faced physically, mentally, or emotionally, fear has no place in my heart. Fear may lurk in the shadows but never in my heart.

The Collective: So fear was present without influence?

Me: It ceased to affect my mind because I joined with my fear. I knew it was present. I accepted its presence. I observed my fear, and it became powerless. I learned the lesson of fear.

The Collective: What is that lesson?

Me: Fear is only an observer. An observer who stands with you and points things out. Fear is always by your side. Fear helps you stay ready, so you never have to get ready.

The Collective: You have described the function of fear. What is the lesson of fear?

Me: I am not my fear.

The Collective: Correct young primate. Now you understand how it feels to belong to a type 3 civilization. Like all emotions, fear is a great teacher. Fear is a gift from our Simian past. Now you must understand that you are not any emotion. All emotions are just teachers and observers who stand with you and point things out.

Me How do you manage fear?

The Collective: We always lean into fear and seek the lesson. Fear, like all emotions, educates us but never controls our actions. What did you do after this revelation?

Me: Does this mean I’m ready to join you guys?

The Collective: You are making progress. What did you do after this revelation?

Me: It was my last pellet, so I reloaded with BBs.

The Collective: Then what did you do?

Me: I shot Bruce in the face.

The Collective: Why the face?

Me: I wanted to take more from him.

The Collective: Explain please.

Me: I realized within the violent lucidity of the moment that I was not done with Bruce. I had missed what I was unconsciously aiming for with my second shot.

The Collective: If not his face, what did you want?

Me: I wanted his right eye. A new goal was emerging within the brutality of the moment. I was engulfed by a barbaric and practical revelation. A dark sense of enlightenment and ferocious purpose decided to make its ruthless presence known. This heartless intention consumed me. I was merciless. I stayed focused on my new goal. This moment in time with Bruce forever changed me. I have never been the same.

The Collective: A new goal?

Me: Absolutely. My evolving goal was to shoot both his eyes out. I wanted to remove his sight.

The Collective: Why?

Me: Bruce did not deserve to see the amazing world he poisoned every day.

The Collective: In hindsight do you think attempting to blind him was extreme?

Me: No.