Change. Like it or not I change. I grow even when I don’t want to. Sometimes I slip down and fall and have to climb back up but it’s still a change and it always leads to more growth. They say hindsight is 20/20 but I disagree. Personally, my hindsight is delusional. I look back and see things better than they really were. Thank God I’m a writer. Thank God I can look back and read what I was thinking and how I was behaving in the past. Thank God I have friends and family that remind me of what I was.
One of my close friends is always telling stories about things I did to him in the past. Not to put me down but because he finds the humor in it now. I don’t even remember half of the stories until he is halfway through. He was a less tolerant person full of anxiety and I apparently was an insensitive prankster. I won’t tell you the specifics because: a) they aren’t important and b) you might talk to him one day.
The reason this topic came to mind today is that I am going through my infamous Serial Killer Coloring Books and looking at these sometimes vivid drawings I did and the drawings the murderers have done and the crimes they have committed. I am compiling all of the issues into one book and have been going through them page by page looking and reading. I was shocked by some of the things that I’ve said and the drawings I’ve done. Imagine that. Me? Shocked. It happens. It made me question whether I want to re-publish it or forget about it. I worked so hard on those comics that I hate to see it go to waste. I poured my heart and soul into it.
I’ve spent years defending myself as to why I took an interest in serial killers enough to draw, write and form a band that sings about them. I understood why completely. Even in my delusional state of mind I have some awareness of what’s really going on in my head and heart. I always looked at what I did as an over the top exploitation of the exploitation of murder and true crime. I never thought that they were cool like I’ve been accused of. The truth of the matter is that I was secretly identifying with the serial killer. I didn’t identify with the desire to murder but with the common obsession and addiction. I have many addictions but most are harmful to myself. I have no desire or even fantasy of raping, murdering or cannibalism. I found it fascinating that there are real life “monsters” out there that not only fantasize but act out on it. Why? What makes them different?
I’ve believed that anyone could be a serial killer under certain circumstances. We are all just one gene or one spanking in our childhood away from it. I have mental illness in my natural family genes so of course I have a mental illness. A treatable one. A controllable one but I still have it. After being raised by a paranoid schizophrenic mother for 8 years I found myself seeking other “crazy people in my life especially girlfriends.
As I grow older I find myself dealing with my issues and growing away from it. I’ve also lost interest in serial killers. I don’t write about them or draw them or even think about them except when I perform because most of my songs are about them. I look at it differently now. Now I’m going through some of my drawings and I can’t believe that I’m the same person.
The big question on my mind is do I abandon my previous creations? Ignore them like they never happened. My gut tells me to embrace my past and everything I’ve created good and bad. I don’t really think that anything I’ve done has brought any bad energy or karma into the world. I still don’t think that writing, drawing or singing about murder is going to influence anyone negatively or make them do bad things unless they are already inclined to do so. I used to say “serial killers don’t have time to read about or listen to songs about serial killers. They’re too busy serial killing.” It’s true. True crime buffs don’t commit murders. It’s usually the seemingly “nice” guy that lives next door to you, sits next to you at work, rides the train with you to work, cooks your food at a restaurant or maybe even your lover or family member.
There has always been an internal struggle with me as to letting go or holding back in my creative endeavors. I’ve mentioned this over and over. I always come to the same decision. I always do the same thing. I decide that I will be an open book and talk and write about anything and then I hold things back anyway. Sometimes I censor and sometimes I don’t. Hopefully, my work is appreciated either way. Hopefully, I keep appreciating my work either way. After all, I am my biggest critic and my biggest fan.