I suppose you’ll want to hear all about my childhood. Nature versus nurture, born or made. I’ll get to it, but does it really matter? Would it make you feel better to find out that true monsters exist? Will it help you reconcile the things I do if I were to tell you that I was horribly abused as a child? Would it somehow provide some measure of justification for my actions? Would you feel less guilty for reading these pages and finding them more than a little fascinating? Intriguing? Enjoyable even?
Whether I have some genetic predisposition or neurologic dysfunction or have been somehow groomed by circumstance makes absolutely no difference. You’ll never hear me whine or wallow about the challenges of my youth. To my knowledge, I was never dropped on my head as a child. This is not a disease. I don’t need to be cured.