Current Time: 09:17 pm EST

The Rambling Thoughts of the Disturbed


Downloadable Entire Thread (For Excel, use Save As...) 1
  Creator Post Date

Dexter Gein

To Know Me

It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. How does it look from your end? I hope this doesnít confuse or further complicate your already clouded opinion of me; this mysterious soldier?

The ideas and thoughts that frequently preoccupy and intrude my already troubled mind are but an idiosyncratic belief or even an impression that is firmly preserved within me despite being denied by what is generally accepted as reality or even lucid thoughts. Could this be a symptom of a mental disorder? Have all these years in this place finally taking its toll? My inter enemies surely love this delusion. My mind is slowly becoming engulfed with these evil thoughts like an addiction which consumes that which I know to be right; or should I say, to be wrong. These damn voices are injurious to my well-being. Iíve grown to love and hate them. The deeds I do for them, the innocent people Iíve killed in their name. Itís shameful.

Do you believe me? Believe? What is it to believe when all you ever lived for has been stripped away from you? He took them, now my nightmare continues, and I canít wake myself up from it. Itís a constant loop of endless days and sleepless nights. I want to believe but there is a hole in my soul that I long to fill, but with what? She was taken from me. I was a fugitive, so I ran. I was hurt and confused because it didnít make sense.
January 01, 2020 08:39 pm

Dexter Gein

The Riverside

Here comes the shame. I made it all the way to Arkansas before I realized that I was broke, hungry, and very tired. I was able to obtain work on a small farm tending to the livestock and doing small odd jobs around the main house and barn. The farm belonged to Herald Mann and his wife Edna. Over a period, they both looked at me as a son. For the first time in a long time I felt right. I felt strong, I felt like I learned perspective. I was happy. But somewhere between the sane and insane thoughts I started suffering from excruciating migraines. Then came the voices. Before I even could comprehend it, it overtook me. It had come to pass that I would look upon that nostalgic riverside. That Arkansas summer breeze did very little to cool a hot body. The Red River steadily flowed with its rustic hues from the submerged pebbles and natural underlay. The banks had been alive and teeming with life. Wild geese nested under the tall reeds which provided shade from the blistering sun above.

This day, this unfaithful day, it all happened. The rage of losing everything I breathed for came to surface. The voices took control of my every thought. Iíll spare you the in-between details, just know I had no control. I pushed the pitchfork I was using to mix manure for fertilizer deep into Heroldís neck. With the handle in my hands, I pushed him towards the barn until the spokes of the pitchfork penetrated though his neck and onto the wall behind. I stood back in horror. Herald hands fell to his side and he gasped his last as he stood limped pinned to the wall. The day was blur after that. I awoke naked by the riverside. Was it a dream? Laying there I envisioned myself hitting a rewind button to make it all go away. It was already too late. I did what I did, and the voices seized refuge in my mind. Both Herald and Edna were dead. I unpinned Herald from the barn wall and tried my best to find the pieces of Edna. I buried them both by the rivers edge.

Please donít think of me any different. I just couldnít take control of myself. The person I was died within me that day. I was unable to breathe and struggled to embrace those empathetic aimless feelings. From that day on I lived under a cloak that I havenít been able to simply let fall. These feeling of pensive sadness were short lived because the voices wouldnít let me deal with it.
January 02, 2020 06:35 am

Dexter Gein

The Sanctuary

By the main entry was a woven doormat, fashioned from rustic strings, enriched with the muck of a thousand boots, a testimony to the lives that have resided in his house. The door mat could have been replaced years ago, its edges were frayed and curled, but it was still here. It will be there even after he returns from his enslaved mind. I may have killed frequently but he taught me how to do it without being seen. At the time, he who was greater than I took me into his house. Many rooms filled with occupants of past and even present brothers and sisters. The walls within those walls never closed in on me. I trained and grew stronger by the day. I was welcomed and accepted into the fold. I was home; however, I kept my voices to myself. Beating, torturing, killing was who I was, yet I never really tasting the breath of truth.

Then, entered the thing of beauty; a forced passion, a sentimental longing and wistful affection for the past. She was mine and I was hers. But it never came to pass. She was an art piece for my own eyes and no one elseís. I stared out the sanctuary window and I struggle to adjust my eyes to see my own reflection. I couldnít see me. I didnít know who I was, and I still donít. It was just dark, and the night was cold. Then, I caught a whiff of her sweet and subtle scent. The voices were drowned out yet this fragmented dissolution of what once was, was no longer and only the pain and putrefied memories remain. The beauty aimlessly roamed the halls in a drunken state. A bit comical at times but other times it was worrisome. After a short time, I took her life. It was what she wanted. A righteous kill it was. I took my time dismembering her, oh the smell of her blood was sweet and thick with alcohol. To this day, I feel that inner ache.
January 02, 2020 09:53 pm

Dexter Gein


Oh, the desire to inflict retribution and utter harm. Oh, the saccharine smell of lifeless blood. Have you ever felt the complete satisfaction of revenge? Do you remember how obsessed you were with carefully planning it out? Her head laid before him. His children on a slow roast just feet from his decapitated and torn mate. They were all an unkempt bunch. I smelt it the minute I entered their dim. The ordeal ended just as fast as it started, although it seemed to last forever. His whole life and reason for living was stripped away just like he stripped it from me. An eye for an eye, a death for a death, and I took his life as well. How sweet it was to see his expression. His reaction was priceless. His morphing did little to impress me, in fact, it was rather humorous to me. He felt my fury and tasted my wrath. My inner demons enjoyed each moment. I know they did. They just sat back and didnít have to say anything. It was as if they were proud of what they created. Hate, pride, the need for more. Thatís who they are; I know that now. Perhaps I knew it all along as I continued to live my life in anger and rage. They made me who I am and he who was greater than I knew it and encouraged it. I do miss his wisdom and council. Confined within his mind is his state now or at least until he finds himself again.
January 06, 2020 07:43 pm

Dexter Gein

A New Beginning

There are two paths to every new beginning. You can choose to end the drifting loop you are currently traveling and take a new route off the beaten path into the unknown. Would this scare you? You canít choose both. As for me, I believe Mr. Frost would have been proud of the path I chose. Iím a mere human after all and I do not possess that which these beast and forged humans claim to have. I trust in my gut and Iím honest to my word. To some thatís enough but to others itís a weakness. Iíd like to think things will remain the same, but every nearing storm has its moment of silence and sometimes excrement seems to appear out of nowhere and from the most unlikely of folk. Even on a day of spiritual silence this new world seems odd. It tends to keep me from a higher ground and these lows become a hindrance. Although my path is just and authentic, the tendencies to allow the vehemence of hate within me rage on. The new master of the house helps balance these tendencies as I continue my path of righteousness. My master is the cure when my thoughts are not true. When the progression of losing cohesion or strength starts to overcome my thoughts, she is there to calm the raging storm within my mind. Simply thinking for myself becomes a painful process. Yet they are there and constantly scratching, burning, screaming, gnawing, and beating my brain until unnatural thoughts of self-mutilation take over. Even then, they encourage the thought. I wonder if my path will get any easier. Will our paths cross at some point? Will the encounter be peaceful and pleasant?
January 07, 2020 10:28 am

Dexter Gein

Hope and Truth

Anger - I want to slap the taste out of your mouth. You disgust me with your arrogance and behavior. That much crap over a push of a button. A thirteen ringed noose is too good for you. You deserve to die and die slowly. I hope you choke on the liquids within your dying body. They will confuse your hate for me as a death rattle. Your last recollected sight will be of me looking over you as I drink the lifeblood of your people. I hope you die of an aggressive cancer. I hope it eats away at your bones and spreads to every inch of your pathetic life. I; like it, will consume who you are and who you hoped to be. I hope Iím still here when you take your last breath you piece of shit. Youíre worthless!

The future rest solely on those who welcome positive change and not the authority of the empowered. It is within our hearts to embrace the change and use it for the good of man or beast. It is within our hearts to wield this power and not fall into darkness but to offer healing and salvation to those in need. A side is just a place to find comfort in those who are like you. This like-minded thinking can be dangerous in a place like this. People tend to get the notion that they can wield that power and expect others to accept that which does not benefit anyone other than the person doing the wielding. Do you know of whom I speak? Do you feel convicted in these words? It might not make sense to you, but it does to me. If it rings clear, then know you are part of the problem. Youíve allowed it to run rampant and now itís too damn big for you and others like you to do anything about it. YOU are part of the problem. I am part of the problem. Far too long has this like-mindedness bled deeply. It flows through each city like a cancer; consuming the old and the new of folk, until only now the wielder wields the wielded. Have you found your refuge from this cancer weíve created? Is there hope or have you lost all aspect of it?
January 08, 2020 10:23 pm

Dexter Gein


My mind is filled with thoughts contrary to the ordinary course of nature. My abnormal state exists only to amuse those within me. I heard whispers behind my back and watched mothers draw their children closer as I pass by. Psychopathic? Schizophrenic? To me, theyíre just made up words to say when you fear what you do not understand. Most folk donít even know the difference between them both and they used them interchangeably. Given the situation, after what I endured in my life it shouldnít be of any surprise why I am the way I am. This change is an abomination to who I once was. I hope you understand what Iím saying. Do you understand? Truly understand? This isnít a cry for help. This isnít just a rambling thought as you may already know. This isnít a contrived state of mind. As genuine as my love for you, you must understand the seriousness of this thought. I do what I do for me and me alone, meanwhile, the ill-disposed continue to seize this inner refuge in my mind. They give sight of things to come and things that have passed. This unwelcomed calling to my mind is my burden.

In my visions I see a rocky shoreline and the death of an innocent man, who like me, is but a complicated soul. I am haunted by the sight of a womanís transmutation into something horrible. I can almost feel the agonizing pain wracked though her body. She scratches at her blouse, pulling it completely off as if it had a burning effect. Bare breasted, she stands alone in a white room gasping for air. Falling to her knees she cries for help. Her voice is distorted and garbled, and I canít seem to make out what it is she is trying to say. She leans forward on to her hands. She finally gives herself over to the excruciating pain and slowly begins the transformation. Her bones start to snap as they painfully fall into unnatural positions in her now mangled body. Her muscles bend and reform themselves as her body suffers lacerating pain. She opens her mouth to let out one last yelp. Her mouth thick with blood from the new protruding fangs which emerged during the change. Her entire face is distorted as her lower jaw extends outward while her skull slowly changes shape. Her gnarled hands and malformed fingers clutch the floor as claws erupt forward. Her once agonizing moans are now low throaty growls. In the days to follow, she will consume and terminate everything in her path. She will lie, cheat, and destroy.
January 09, 2020 10:12 pm

Dexter Gein

On A Positive Note

Visions tend to be fuzzy at times. Having the ability to think about or even plan with an imaginative insight is rather difficult especially when one lacks the awareness of self to begin with. Having or displaying a sensible and practical idea of what can or cannot be achieved has never been one of my strongest suits. I am, however, humbled as to not to allow my ego to gain the upper hand especially when I seek the approval of hearts and minds. Iíd be a fool to think that no one has walked where I now wander. This winding road of mine is filled with holes and scars. These scars have marked my body for some time, and they appear strange to me. Have you ever really looked at all your scars and wonder how the hell you really got them? Are they deep? Iím not just talking about the external kind. The internal ones seem to hurt the most. Do you agree? Pft, like I really care if you agree or not. Youíre just as fvcked in the head as I am. There is no need to hide it or hide from it. The abuse we have suffered at our own hands and those of others brought forth more anger and hate throughout of pathetic lives. Even now youíre denying your self-worth arenít you. The reality is, there is no one left alive who can handle our inner demons and truths. Personally, I keep myself at a distance even from those who love me. Iíd be an absolute fool to claim that I have the answers; hell, my devils party with demons and yet the violent, cruel, and savage melodies are far from over. Is there any hope? Iíd like to think there is. I believe the hope lives within us and all we need to do is but unleash its brilliance. Life is so fleeting, so delicate, with every breath lies the potential for it to be our last. But oddly enough, I somehow think Iím closer to finding myself or at least I try to cling to that thought. After all; thatís life, an endless cycle of remembering and forgetting.
January 15, 2020 11:33 am

Dexter Gein

On the Edge

Pride - You imbecile! What do they know? They are just as stupid and insignificant as you. Their irrelevant lives are just as meaningless as yours. I am bound to you with a tie that cannot be broken. Remember that! I am that feeling of deep pleasure and satisfaction you feel when you do our deeds. The emotion is derived from my own achievement and everything associated with. I control all of them as well, but their too stupid to know it. I live in them and I eat away at their insides like an ever-growing parasite latching on to their pitiful so-called passions. Fvcken people make me sick. You should kill them all. Even now there is one who tests you. There, that one. Kill her! Slay her! Iíll tell you what to do like the many times before. Ah yes! Do it again! Listen to the last beats of her heart and watch her muscles twitch. Such desire and absolute pleasure. Thatís it, feel the warmth of the blood as it cools in this musty New Orleans air.

Iím tired of all this. I stand on the edge of an interminable dark pit, and while looking down, this solemn utterance intended to invoke this power to inflict harm and punishment has consumed me. It plays with my emotions and yet I canít stand the thought of them not being with me. It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. Am I too far gone because itís hard to stop? Is it believable to desire such punishment on both the given and distant end? Am I alone in this? Do you understand where Iím coming from? Surely the heavy smell of alcohol and the killings canít be the only thing that defines me. I long for the time our paths cross. I wonder which Dexter you will meet.
January 18, 2020 02:08 pm

Dexter Gein

A Dream Within A Dream

I rarely have decent dreams or even dreams that I can remember. I canít stand when people say they had a ďgreat dream last nightĒ even though they couldnít remember what the hell they dreamt about. All they know is that they woke up feeling great and were in good spirits. Pisses me off to no end.
It seems to me that no matter what path in life that Iím on, itís evident how daily experiences tend to guide my subconscious to picture or imagine the situation in a different light when I dream; or in a way, reliving how it should have taken place or maybe even added some small details on how to do life apart from the one true God. However, my nightmares are always the same. I feel paralyzed and cold. These series of thoughts and images that occur produce a sensation of heighten awareness. It is as if it isnít a dream at all. Just as plain as you are reading these words now is how natural and surreal they are to me. That part of the mind of which is not fully aware, but which influences oneís actions and feelings is completely engulfed with fear and horror. Iím not one to read into dreams and their meaning. I think itís stupid to think that the brain anticipates future events that you personally will experience. I donít think it happens that way or at least how itís intended to be perceived by you or others when you do share a dream. Even though I think itís bullchit one can fully remember a dream enough to carry on a conscious discussion; if it even happened.

My best dreams are of an apocalyptic world. The complete destruction of the world where zombies and killer mosquitoes reign. It so entertaining to watch it all take place. People would be running around with no idea what to do. No more loyalties to themselves much less to others around them. Mass destruction of biblical proportions where mothers abandon their children and husbands use their spouses to shield themselves from the creatures. People turning against each other, the looting, the killings, the scouring for shelter only to be smothered by killer flying insects. Insect against man, zombie against man, man against man, oh such a perfect dream. In a poetic way, it would most wonderfully be catastrophic. And then inevitably Iíd have to wake back up to this sh!t hole. Itís unavoidable. Iím drowning here and I lack purpose. It might not make sense to you, but it does to me.
January 21, 2020 03:46 pm

Dexter Gein

Factum est autem

Anger Ė Like you said, people tend to get the notion that they can wield power and expect others to accept that which does not benefit anyone other than that one person doing the wielding. They know whom you spoke of. Theyíll just keep acting clueless and too coward to stand. The one thing I hate more than a coward is the one who plays along with the false promises. This place is littered with a bunch of blind motherfcken idiots. These fcken people are a damn cancer and it seems like everyone just plays theater like a bunch of homosexual Glee characters prancing around the wielders stage. Meanwhile, the killer lies low, waiting, looking, and lurking. Feel the rage within yourself and battle not those within you. Iíll make you hurt. Go ahead and try to remember those taught rules, but youíll feel like youíre being drug into a spiraling cycle of hate and absolute anger. You only thought youíd feel better after that which you have already spoke of; but you donít. The smell of their blood still lingers, yet it was justified. It might not make sense to them right now, but it does to you. Their apparent lack of understanding and uncertainty is a topic best thought out privately. Make it known that they should already recognize that the roads Mr. Frost spoke of are both dark and worn by those who walked before them; blinded and ignorant. They both lead only to the same point of destination and there is no way around it no matter how much they ponder at the crossroad. Are your eyes open? Do you not feel that unjust in your heart? Itís been going on for so long that theyíre numb to it. Wake up!
January 26, 2020 08:00 pm

Dexter Gein

Confutatis Maledictis Flammis Acribus Addictis

Pride Ė ďI am consumed with rage and spite for you. I am disgusted with your ways of dishonest narratives and accounts. In these searing flames of life, I wish nothing but pain and unhappiness for you. I alone will devour that of which you hold dear. I alone will lie to those you respect. I alone will cheat those you hold in such high esteem. I alone will destroy those you cherish the most. I alone!

Your empty heart will never experience true love again. As the silence fills the lonely air, that will be your fate. Just watch, the ballots of life will be bare, and no one will come to answer the call for help. Youíre a worthless piece of shit and they know it. As their blindness to truth remains in the shadows, so should you fall into despair. Bleak are their bitter dissolutions.Ē

These rambling thoughts are my own and I know not why I share them. Perhaps this is my way of reaching out for help from the rage within me, this mental disorder. Would you even care to help if this was in fact a cry for help? Too long have you watch but not interjected. I wish I had an open line of communication with you so that Iíd know how you feel about hiding in your shadows. Is it because you are unable to think for yourself? Is it because youíre a puppet in someone elseís imaginary scene? Iíve hidden nothing from you. My soul poured out before you in these ramblings. Read between the them and youíll see this disturbed soldier is not who you think he is. My conscience is clear, and I am without wax. Sine cera is my genuine nature and for this the struggle within is real. Soon I will lead, and I will go anywhere provided it is always forward. Where will you find yourself when the lies, cheating, and destruction start to overwhelm that of which you know nothing of? Will you be able to think for yourself? I have a feeling you will find yourself trying to pin the blame on someone else. Itís who you are, and I know itís not how you intend it to be. My love for youÖ yes you, will soon dwindle and I will be gone. Will you remember me in this light or for whom I will become?

For this moment, I long for my quiet sanctuary, my private refuge from all that is wrong and with all that lingers here. I leave you with this. Decide on what you truly believe and live it to the fullest. Make your experience, YOUR experience and not be a string-less puppet. Those within me care nothing about who you are or how your future accomplishments will change this arena. It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. For now, Iíll retreat to my Glaisher Point Estate home and wait for the next chapter to start.
January 31, 2020 02:03 pm


Alone he is and I walk to follow. Yet, I know not where I go. My bones ache and my head in tangles. Two roads ahead a cross path I stand. The darker worn the lighter flows to which I do not comprehend. The claim means nothing, my soul in pain. His meaning is the same, do you not know? Within the mind two pierce and corrupt like nails through wood. Which path I wonder, and will it be understood. I choose this one the sounds I hear. Correct I hope and for this, I fear. A long journey ahead my walking stick beginning to drag. For alone he is and I walk to follow. January 31, 2020 11:29 pm
Actives (15) Fresh Blood (3) View All The Fallen (2) Graveyard
Jared Jenkins, Morin, Cadence James, Cristina Scabbia, Beau Theroux, Averly Godfrey, Dara Florescu, Mallory Quarters, Jacks Heineken, EE1, Livs Duffel, MenagerieAgain, Dexters Bedazzler, MenagerieAswell, EE3  Alyra
Beatrice Abbot 
Samantha Webster
Home | Profile | Forums | F.A.Q. | Donate | Terms of Use | Privacy Policy | Cookie Policy | Contact Us
Created by Arctic Moon Studios. All rights reserved. © Bloodletting 2006-2019

Official Sites for Bloodletting
Blog | Twitter