Ever since I read Albert Fish's letter to Mrs. Budd at the age of 10-12...

[With Strength I Burn]

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Dear Mrs. Budd. In 1894 a friend of mine shipped as a deck hand on the Steamer Tacoma, Capt. John Davis. They sailed from San Francisco for Hong Kong, China. On arriving there he and two others went ashore and got drunk. When they returned the boat was gone. At that time there was famine in China. Meat of any kind was from $1–3 per pound. So great was the suffering among the very poor that all children under 12 were sold for food in order to keep others from starving. A boy or girl under 14 was not safe in the street. You could go in any shop and ask for steak—chops—or stew meat. Part of the naked body of a boy or girl would be brought out and just what you wanted cut from it. A boy or girl's behind which is the sweetest part of the body and sold as veal cutlet brought the highest price. John staid [sic] there so long he acquired a taste for human flesh. On his return to N.Y. he stole two boys, one 7 and one 11. Took them to his home stripped them naked tied them in a closet. Then burned everything they had on. Several times every day and night he spanked them – tortured them – to make their meat good and tender. First he killed the 11 year old boy, because he had the fattest ass and of course the most meat on it. Every part of his body was cooked and eaten except the head—bones and guts. He was roasted in the oven (all of his ass), boiled, broiled, fried and stewed. The little boy was next, went the same way. At that time, I was living at 409 E 100 St. near—right side. He told me so often how good human flesh was I made up my mind to taste it. On Sunday June the 3, 1928 I called on you at 406 W 15 St. Brought you pot cheese—strawberries. We had lunch. Grace sat in my lap and kissed me. I made up my mind to eat her. On the pretense of taking her to a party. You said yes she could go. I took her to an empty house in Westchester I had already picked out. When we got there, I told her to remain outside. She picked wildflowers. I went upstairs and stripped all my clothes off. I knew if I did not I would get her blood on them. When all was ready I went to the window and called her. Then I hid in a closet until she was in the room. When she saw me all naked she began to cry and tried to run down the stairs. I grabbed her and she said she would tell her mamma. First I stripped her naked. How she did kick – bite and scratch. I choked her to death, then cut her in small pieces so I could take my meat to my rooms. Cook and eat it. How sweet and tender her little ass was roasted in the oven. It took me 9 days to eat her entire body. I did not #### her tho I could of had I wished. She died a virgin.

I wanted to commit suicide.

I've read the letter to other children around the age of 12, children of my dad's friends, and they all laughed it. I also read the letter to my friend Sam and he too laughed at it. Afterall, to think of all the meaningless, inane wars (e.g., Cambodia, Iraq, Vietnam, Carthage, and etc.) and apathetic serial killers would make one go insane without a defense mechanism.

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In one interview, Kuklinski claimed that he would never kill a child and "most likely wouldn't kill a woman". He also confessed that once he had wanted to use a crossbow to carry out a hit but did not want to use the method without having "tested" it first. While driving his car, he picked a man at random to stop and ask for directions. Kuklinski told the HBO interviewer that when the man bent forward, he shot him in the forehead with the crossbow and stated "it went half-way into his head".

What if that man were me? Why is life so precarious? Why do we take everything for granted? How can I live with happiness when innocent people die in meaningless wars such as Iraq, Cambodia, Vietnam, and etc. based off a country's greed? Who am I and where am I headed towards?

Am I mentally unstable, pretentious, rude, and etc.? I cannot determine what I am. Maybe I should just die?

About an hour ago I wanted to started boxing again, and now, I have fallen into depression. I do not feel connected with my previous boxing self, yet I feel some sort of connection with my childhood. Sorry, my thoughts aren't flowing coherently.

I can't make up my mind about anything.

I don't feel as if I have an identity, and I don't care if I were to die.

I feel as if I have experienced everything a human could conceive of.

I wish I could metamorphose into something greater, such as a cosmic demon, but I recognize the infantile nature of such thoughts.

I am tired of my inferiority, human needs, and etc. I hate myself. I only do everything out of an act of imitation. I am content of just sitting here and staring at the white wall.

Should I visit a psychologist? I'm afraid I'll make him go mad too. I made my dad depressed by speaking only a portion of my thoughts.

If I let my thoughts flow without any control, half of them are obscenely violent and the other half very innocent and beautiful. I feel as if there is a dualism in my thought process.

[Steve Dekorte]

I apreciate and share your concerns. Perhaps the greatest insanity (and most difficult to cope with) is the ignorance or indifference to the insanity which surrounds us.

[btw, apologies for the short response -I had written a longer one which somehow got replaced with just a quote of your original message (the user interface for these forums is a bit... confusing) - too tired to rewrite it atm but may edit this one later]