It's a poem about moths. But it's also a poem about psychopaths.I get it copied. And stick it in a frame. And now it glowers redoubtably above my desk:an entomological keepsake of the horizons of existence.And the brutal, star-crossed wisdom of those who seek them out.i was talking to a moththe other eveninghe was trying to break intoan electric bulband fry himself on the wireswhy do you fellowspull this stunt i asked himbecause it is the conventionalthing for moths or whyif that had been an uncoveredcandle instead of an electriclight bulb you wouldnow be a small unsightly cinderhave you no senseplenty of it he answeredbut at times we get tiredof using itwe get bored with routineand crave beautyand excitementfire is beautifuland we know that if we gettoo close it will kill usbut what does that matterit is better to be happyfor a momentand be burned up with beautythan to live a long timeand be bored all the whileso we wad all our life upinto one little rolland then we shoot the rollthat is what life is forit is better to be part of beautyour attitude toward lifeis come easy go easywe are like human beingsused to be before they becametoo civilized to enjoy themselvesand before i could argue himout of his philosophyhe went and immolated himselfon a patent cigar lighteri do not agree with himmyself i would rather havehalf the happiness and twicethe longevitybut at the same time i wishthere was something i wantedas badly as he wanted to fry himself
~ Kevin Dutton
Psychopathy is like sunlight. Overexposure can hasten one’s demise in grotesque, carcinogenic fashion. But regulated exposure at controlled and optimal levels can have a significant positive impact on well-being and quality of life.
The problem with a lot of people is that what they think is a virtue is actually a vice in disguise. It's much easier to convince yourself that you're reasonable and civilised, than soft and weak, isn't it?
It's easy to forget that anything is possible with these guys. That there really are no limits.
