I keep fantasising about killing my mother. I don’t because I don’t know where she’s hidden 60 grand that rightfully belongs to me.

But I think if I knew where it was I’d probably do it. It’d be really easy to get away with, because she’s a drunk and she’s always falling down and falling into things, so a strategically placed item on her staircase would probably do it.

But then I don’t because I worry about some CSI motherfucker figuring it out and catching me. But honestly getting caught is my main reason to not do it.

I keep going on and off meds and it’s really fucking me up. I am having a lot of fantasies right now.

I occasionally terrorise people for funsies. I have new neighbours and I have been doing graffiti on their house at 3am, I’ve slashed their tires and I’ve put duct tape over their license plates. I just don’t like that they have two cars. So I’m punishing them.

I often do this. Punish people who I think deserve it.

I had bad service at a restaurant so I took a shit on the floor instead of in the toilet so they’d have to clean it.

A cafe in a city which I don’t live in, but visit often, put a code lock on the toilet door after I took a huge blood clot I’d passed on my period and smeared it all over the walls.

I keyed a bunch of cars around my town, so many that people thought there was a gang of roaming kids doing it.

A guy I knew bought what he thought was speed from me, but it was a crushed up pro plus tablet. Then he told me he had ‘overdosed’ on it with a bunch of pills he’d bought and had been hospitalised. The pills were vitamin tablets.

This stuff is often blamed on kids and drug addicts.

I feel proud when I see people talking about it on the local crime Facebook group.

She’s an utter moron. They tested her IQ, it’s 50, which makes her clinically retarded, but yeah she’s a mong.

She’s 10 years old, she asked me how long it was to Valentine’s Day so I said, “let’s work it out. How many days are in January?”

She didn’t know. So I told her 31, but today was the 14th, so she had to take 14 away from 31.

Her first guess was 7, the 24, then 10. So I said, ok just take 10 away from 31, and she couldn’t do that either so she went into a strop. She can’t do any simple maths, can’t even do her 2 times table in her head, she has to count on her fingers.

To put this in perspective my 4 year old nephew can count to 100, and my 6 year old nephew can do his 2, 5,10, 9, and 11 times tables in his head.

And she can’t be bothered to even try. I’ve bought her countless books, spent hours going over basic stuff that every 5 year old knows but she can’t grasp. She’ll just guess random numbers then give up with maths. Then with writing she’ll just do squiggly lines instead of writing the letters.

Recently, I gave stand up comedy a go. People always have said I’m funny and quick witted and the response has been positive. I’ve done half a dozen gigs so far and people love it.

Just got an agent who’s talking about booking me on a panel show. I’m just starting to get a little bit excited about it, because it’ll be a great chance to show off.

I realised one night that comedians were just funny people like me, they love the showing off, and how I know people who think they’re hilarious but they’re not and who laugh at their own jokes.

There’s a guy who I’ve seen in mock the week a few times who does it and I can’t help but think how much better I am at it than him.

I fucking hate these meds.

So I have a key to my cousins house. I went in, took his car keys while he was asleep, took his car from the garage and went for a drive.

I haven’t passed my test, and obviously don’t have insurance, so I thought maybe that would give me a thrill.

I drove around for 2 hours, went to the seaside and sat on a bench listening to the waves. I stopped by a graveyard and stole a few candles and then put them on graves on the other side of the cemetery.

I felt nothing.

I put the car back in the garage, I put the keys back and locked up. When I sat at home I couldn’t even revel in the thought of getting away with it.

I fantasised about hitting someone with the car and driving off. I just want to know how it feels. It’s got to feel like something, right?

The urge to kill is getting really strong now. The strongest it’s ever been for me. I’m starting to crave it. I just don’t want to get caught.

I’m in my room, watching a documentary about holocaust denial on YouTube. I pause it to start looking up concentration camp tattoos.

I read an article about a grandson having his grandfathers camp number tattooed on his arm. I think this is a bold sentiment, I like it. I start thinking about what it would be like to have something like that passed down in generations. I start thinking about twists of fate.

Then I take a deep breath and something that feels like a memory surfaces.

A dark place, lavender coloured smoke, a light, im suffocating and I can’t breathe. No matter how hard I try to suck, I can draw no oxygen into my lungs.

My eyes open and I’m in my bed again. I think, ‘Of course, that was one of the times I died’ - and my brain tells me I’ve died many times, and then relived my life. The same life over and over. Reliving different choices. Different decisions. Replaying the same life over and over. Like The Matrix meets The Sims. And I truly believe this to be true.

I grab my phone and begin typing out how it feels, as I think this may be one of those times when I’m insane and want to document it.

I’ve been on 60mg of fluoxetine for a while now and I think I’ve finally settled on them.

It’s completely killed my sex drive.

I was only just starting to figure out my sexuality and gender issues, now I’m just so fucking numb to everything.

I always thought I had a high sex drive, I could masterbate several times a day with just my imagination, no porn.

Now even with porn and electronic help I struggle to even reach orgasm, and when I do it’s weak af.

Thing is, I know I’m better on meds. I mean I know that it makes no difference at all to my aspd, but it helps with my ocd, and other mental illnesses.

But I do hate that I can’t get horny anymore.

Now I don’t have masterbation to distract me I fantasise about killing a whole lot more. I spent 3 hours yesterday thinking about whether I’d prefer to suffocate someone or poison them.