[The following was uncovered from the hard drive of Simon Colo’s office computer. For psychological research purposes only.]
I’m going insane in this office. I’m already typing my thoughts into this damned computer like it’s the only thing that cares about what’s going on in my life. You know what, I actually like you, computer, because you can’t talk back or defy my orders. All you can do is listen. Man, I wish there more humans with that trait. If there was, then I would actually like my girlfriend. She’s the only one who I can’t talk into doing anything. I could murder someone and have the police find me with the gun in my hand, and still talk my way out of a prison sentence, but Sandra, she can’t be tricked like most can. I think that’s why I like her so much. She’s one of the strong – just like me.
Sorry our conversation was cut short yesterday, it was already five when I got to that point. So computer, what shall I talk about today? My car? My house? My job? Wait, I’ll talk about my childhood! I know you want hear about that! So let’s start at the very beginning. My mother was 16 when she gave birth to me. A few months before I was born my father was killed trying to rob a convenience store, so I never knew him. For the first decade of my life, my mother and I lived in a crappy apartment in the North Side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. I didn’t have much friends as a child, but I did have people who did my schoolwork and followed me around. I understand that friends are people who are supposed to like you, right? Well, these people sure did not like me, they were more afraid of me than anything. If you were to see me, computer, you wouldn’t expect people to be afraid of me. I’m thin, far from muscular, and I don’t come off as threatening. But people don’t usually fear me till we have a conversation, for some reason. Anyways, my teenage years were bittersweet. I popped a lot of pills and smoked a lot of weed. I remember when I was 14 and I OD’ed on Oxys. They said I died twice. Since then I’ve began to wonder if I’m invincible… Huh, it’s already five I guess I can go home now. Talk to you tomorrow computer…
Hello computer! How you been since yesterday? Good? Well, guess what! I just realized that the world has more weak people than I could ever imagine. All of them spend their whole lives taking orders, and the people say slavery is dead. HA that’s a joke! You wanna know why I’m so irritated today? FINE. I went to a fast food restaurant and the person messed up my burger! So I walked up to the counter and kindly asked for a new one, THEN THE PERSON CALLED ME A PSYCHOPATH! ME? A PSYCHOPATH! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! I think that over-privileged teenager is a psychopath for calling me a psychopath! You know what? This isn’t the first time a weak person called me a psychopath. I was a senior in high school when the quarterback of the football team called me that dreaded word. What I did after that was the best goddamned thing I’ve ever done. Crap, its five already, talk to you tomorrow, computer.
Sorry you had to hear my rant yesterday, computer. I was just so pissed about that fast food worker. So today let’s actually talk about something! How about my mother! Okay, well I never had much of a good relationship with my mother. She’s been shooting up heroin for as long as I could remember. In fact she’s the one who gave me oxycotten for the first time. She broke her arm and she didn’t want the pills so she gave me the pills. She said that it would “calm me down”. It kind of did when I was on them, but when I was off them everything made me furious. She had a boyfriend for several years. I truly believe she loved him. But when I was 16 he broke up with her, and the next day she shot herself. Good thing he’s not around anymore. Yay I survived till five, goodbye computer!
Why can’t Sandra leave me alone? All these stupid questions! “Where have you been all night?” “Why do you smell like gasoline?” “Are you even listening?” She never shuts up! One thing I like about you, Computer, is that you don’t interrogate me like that brunette imbecile! The problem is, I can’t tell her what I was doing because I cannot trust her, AT ALL. She would just tell everyone she knows, then they would tell everyone they know, then those people would tell everyone they know, and eventually, the whole world knows of Mr. Colo’s actions! You’re the only one I can trust, Computer. You can’t tell anyone anything I tell you. Nor can you betray me. Yet, I get this strange feeling that I still can’t tell you what I do for fun. I’m sorry Computer, I know you really want this information, but I can’t give it to you. I apologize, but its five, and I must say goodbye.
Do you know Kyle in the office? Wait, what am I saying! Of course you don’t, I’m the only one you talk to! So let me fill you in on this inconsiderate piece of trash. He is a salesman, like me. But unlike me, he has a beautiful wife, a nice car, better paycheck, and better looks. He always walks around with this annoying grin, like he is the greatest human being in the universe. He knows I hate his existence, that’s why he is just rubbing his “greatness” in my face. Mocking me. Telling me that I am utterly worthless in this game of life. It’s all because of him that I have these feelings, which I’ve always been told that the only way to completely eradicate the problem, is to destroy its core. And Kyle is the core. So is Sandra. And that fast food worker. Also that quarterback from high school. And most importantly, myself. Well, the clock just struck five, time to head home. My birthday’s tomorrow.
Today is a special day. Right now it is 4:45 P.M, May 5, 2014. My birthday. And I gave myself the best present I could ask for, peace. I’ve been longing for peace for as long as I could remember. Now, all I have is peace. Peace in the office. No noisy co-workers, no manager, no keyboard clicks but my own, and especially, no Kyle Reck to mock me. Peace and quiet. Peace at home. Sandra stopped asking so many questions. The fast food restaurant wasn’t very peaceful though- the fast food worker just made more sound to disrupt the peace. Every root of my problems, but one, have been dealt with. Well, it’s five, time to deal with that last root. Goodbye Computer…