You know, no one ever says they want to grow up and be a serial killer. Why?
If you are spending your days torching ants with a magnifying glass and constantly teasing the neighbor’s pet, I think you should have the foresight to warn people that this is where it might be heading.
I mean, by the time you are a teenager and sneaking sadistic porn into your room to watch while you caress your privates, you should be fully aware that your first murder is on the horizon.
At least if you would have the guts to stand up in front of the class and read your “What I Want to be When I Grow Up” paper and admit to the horror in your head, proper action could be taken. An intervention can be planned and help would be provided. Nip these things in the bud, right?
Well, that’s what I think should happen anyway. But it’s all wishes in one hand, etc.
I guess I just wish I had the bravery and discretion to admit my ambitions early on. Then maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here writing while holding the head of my mother.