Elliot Rodger - My Twisted World: The Story of Elliot Rodger (Part 4-5) lyrics

Published

0 129 0

Elliot Rodger - My Twisted World: The Story of Elliot Rodger (Part 4-5) lyrics

17 Years Old Father told me that Max invited me to visit him in France for three weeks. I would have to travel there alone, and Max would pick me up at the airport near his hometown of Montpellier. At first I was very anxious about it, and I was about to say no. Father talked me into it, saying that I was lucky to have an opportunity like this. I really missed Max, and I wanted to see him again, so I quickly made the decision to go. I left around the beginning of August. This was my first time traveling alone, and I didn't know what to expect. Father signed me up to have supervised travel a**istance to help me along the way, otherwise I would get lost in the airport. On the way there, I made a stop in Frankfurt, Germany to transfer planes. Germany became another country I can add to the list of places I've been. When I arrived at the airport in France, I waited for a few hours and finally Max showed up. I was really happy to see him. I couldn't believe I was actually in France again. Max and I stayed at his grandmother's house in Montpellier. Montpellier was an exquisite city, with a romantic and cultured vibe to it. It was such a pity that I was too caught up in my own world to truly appreciate it at the time. Max introduced me to his life in France. I met with some of his friends and we went to bars together. In France, the legal drinking age is 16, so I was able to drink alcohol at a bar. It was astounding! For those three weeks, I had the faintest taste of what life was like for normal young people. The experience of hanging out with a group of young people, boys and girls, and enjoying life was something I never did before. It really turned my whole world around, for that short amount of time. So this is what everyone else gets to experience, I thought to myself with jealousy. I felt a sense of happiness and bliss that I hadn't felt since childhood, when life was good. During the trip, we visited the town of Arles where we stayed in the hotel that Max's family owns. Max told me about all of the s**ual experiences he had. I never knew he had such an active s** life. The more he talked to me about it, the more envious I became. I questioned to myself why he got to experience such an amazing life, while I had to suffer so much loneliness and humiliation. I was introduced to some of the girls he had s** with in the past, and they were all pretty. On top of that, his family was extremely wealthy and they owned a sprawling mansion in the countryside. Where's the justice? I thought. Why couldn't I have been born into that life? I envied Max so much. His life must have been heaven on earth. Despite my envy of Max, I couldn't hate him, at least at that time. He was the only popular young person who ever reached out to me. He invited me to visit his home, and he treated me like a friend. For that, I will always have a grudging respect for Max Bonon. After three weeks in France doing exciting social things, I returned to my lonely life in the U.S., where I became even more depressed than I was in the beginning of summer, especially after getting a taste of what life was truly like for normal people. I knew I could never live such a pleasurable life, and the knowledge haunted me. I was back to my routine of World of Warcraft. At least the new expansion was coming out soon, and I tried to look forward to that. When Twelfth Grade began, I made a vow to finish high school before the month of March. The high school system at Independence allows students to work at their own pace, so the more extra work I did, the sooner I could graduate. I was always depressed and bored for the few hours a day I had to spend there, and I disliked all of the degenerate, low-cla** students there. They repulsed me. I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could, and it became my goal for the year. At the end of school time every day I asked my teachers to give me extra homework a**ignments, and I stopped myself from playing WoW until I completed them. The second expansion for World of Warcraft finally released, called Wrath of the Lich King. When I got home from school, I wanted the game so badly. Mother wasn't home from work yet, so she couldn't drive me. I decided to walk all the way to Best Buy to pick up the game. It was a long walk that took almost an hour. On the way home I was very hungry and stopped at Panda Express to eat lunch. Planet Cyber was right next to that Panda Express, so I walked in there for a few seconds to reminisce about better times before hurrying home to install the game. Once it was installed, James and I played it together all afternoon. I found out that one of my teachers at Independence, Mr. Perales, also played WoW. From then on, the two of us would talk about the game every day. It was nice to have someone at school to talk to, and I enjoyed telling him about my daily progression with my character. This made my time at school a lot less mundane and boring. James, Steve, and Mark were the closest thing I had to a group of friends. I played with them online almost every day. We had so many adventures in WoW as a group, and yet... I felt like the outcast of the group. Steve and Mark only considered me an online friend, never a real friend. I found out that the three of them had WoW meet-ups at one of their houses a lot, and they never invited me. Sometimes, when I would be playing with them online, I would find out that they were all together in real life, and I was the only one left out. Whenever they did this, I acted bitter towards them through the game, but they didn't even care. Even in the World of Warcraft, I was an outcast, alone and unwanted. The more lonely I felt, the more angry I became. The anger slowly built up inside me throughout all of the dark years. Even after the release of the new WoW expansion, I noticed that the game's ability to alleviate my sense of loneliness was starting to fade. I began to feel lonely even while playing it, and I often broke down into tears in the middle of my WoW sessions. I began to ask myself what the point was in playing this game anymore. I spent less and less time playing it. One day I found some posts on the internet about teenagers having s**, and I was once again reminded of the life I had been denied. I felt that no girl would ever want to have s** with me... And I developed extreme feelings of envy, hatred, and anger towards anyone who has a s** life. I saw them as the enemy. I felt condemned to live a life of lonely celibacy while other boys were allowed to experience the pleasures of s**, all because girls didn't want me. I felt inferior and undesirable. This time, however, I couldn't just stand by and accept such an injustice anymore. I refused to continue hiding away from the world and forgetting about all the insults it dealt to me. I began to have fantasies of becoming very powerful and stopping everyone from having s**. I wanted to take their s** away from them, just like they took it away from me. I saw s** as an evil and barbaric act, all because I was unable to have it. This was the major turning point. My anger made me stronger inside. This was when I formed my ideas that s** should be outlawed. It is the only way to make the world a fair and just place. If I can't have it, I will destroy it. That's the conclusion I came to, right then and there. I spent more time studying the world, seeing the world for the horrible, unfair place it is. I then had the revelation that just because I was condemned to suffer a life of loneliness and rejection, doesn't mean I am insignificant. I have an exceptionally high level of intelligence. I see the world differently than anyone else. Because of all of the injustices I went through and the worldview I developed because of them, I must be destined for greatness. I must be destined to change the world, to shape it into an image that suits me! At the beginning of the winter break, I decided to quit playing World of Warcraft entirely. On my last day on the game, I had a long, emotional conversation with James where I opened up about all of my troubles. I told him about all my newfound views of the world, and my belief that s** must be abolished. He seemed to be supportive of my stance, and I was glad that he understood me. It was a very memorable day. My father's movie was released, but it did not do well at all. He was only able to get it released in a few select theatres, and no one was interested in seeing it. He stupidly invested all of his money into the movie, and he got absolutely nothing out of it. This caused him to fall into a financial crisis that he will be stuck in for a long time. I was annoyed that he kept having to make it clear to us that he was now in a “financial crisis”. He talked about it all the time, and it was embarra**ing. What a bitter coincidence, that right at the point when my life fell even deeper into agony, my father is cursed with this financial crisis. Right at the time when I needed my father's support the most, he lost all of his a**ets. It was as if some malevolent being cursed me with bad luck. I truly had no advantage at all. The universe was not kind to me. I formed an ideology in my head of how the world should work. I was fueled both by my desire to destroy all of the injustices of the world, and to exact revenge on everyone I envy and hate. I decided that my destiny in life is to rise to power so I can impose my ideology on the world and set everything right. I was only seventeen, I have plenty of time. I thought to myself. I spent all of my time studying in my room, reading books about history, politics, and sociology, trying to learn as much as I can. I became a new person, furiously driven by a goal. My torment would continue, but I had something to live for. I felt empowered. I went over to James's house to have a sleepover. Usually when I went there we spent the whole time playing WoW, with the exception of walking to town for lunch. Because I quit WoW, this was the first time we had to find other things to do. We spent most of the time going on walks around the Palisades town center, or along the Palisades Bluffs, talking about our views of the world and our hopes and dreams. I told him more about my hatred of people who have s**. James quickly deduced the reason for why I was so fervent about abolishing s**... that in truth I really want to have s** but I feel like I can never have it, so I wish to take it away from everyone else. He read me very well. I had to admit that he was right. That is the exact reason for it. I fulfilled my vow of finishing high school by March. In fact, I finished a bit earlier than I expected – in mid-February. I completed so many homework a**ignments towards the end, especially since I no longer played WoW. I was glad to be done with it. School was finally over. Not having to go to school anymore gave me a lot of free time to think and brood. As time progressed, I realized how hopeless everything in my life was. The chances that I will ever rise to power and right the wrongs of the world were extremely slim. I had absolutely no idea or plan of how to acquire any sort of power. It was naïve of me to think that I could one day become a dictator. The only thing I could do was fantasize about it. My whole world twisted even deeper into darkness and despair as my depressing life continued on. My hatred for people who have s** festered inside me like a plague. I frequently went on walks around town to brood over how hopeless and unfair everything was. It was better than being stuck in my room all the time. When I saw young couples walking around at the mall, my anger and hatred intensified greatly. It was the worst torture ever to see them making out and being intimate. My life, if you can call it a life, was living hell. My parents quickly took note of how radical I was becoming, and they made a hasty plan to change my life. Of course, that is what they claimed. I think they were just trying to find a way to get rid of me because I was too hard to deal with. Soumaya was going back to Morocco, and they decided to send me with her. It was the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard. They announced this to me at a café near my mother's house. I was expecting something extreme, something drastic, but this? It completely caught me off guard. Morocco? They think I'll be happy there? I furiously thought with disbelief. I was devastated, and for a moment I couldn't even speak. The last thing I wanted was to hide away in a backwater country with nothing to do, while all of my peers enjoy life in the U.S. I didn't want to run away from my troubles in the U.S., I wanted to confront them. I just didn't know how. Going to Morocco was the absolute worst solution for me, and they intended for me to stay there for a long time. After hearing this news, I felt a sense of urgency that I had never felt before. They already had a plane ticket ready for me, and I was scheduled to leave in five days. My immediate goal was to stop my parents from sending me to Morocco. Throwing a tantrum with my mother didn't work. She was set on this. I spent the remaining five days at father's house. While there, I chose not to protest at all, because I knew it wouldn't work. They will force me onto that plane one way or another. I decided to keep quiet and devise a plan of escape. I bided my time, and didn't talk much to father or Soumaya during those last few days. The plan I came up with was to run away on the morning before the flight, walk all the way to my mother's condo, and hide in a secret spot on the roof. It would be a place where they least expected me to be. I kept quiet in the last couple of days to throw off their suspicion, but that backfired and made them even more suspicious. I suppose they expected me to protest about going, and my silence made them think I was up to something. When the time came, I decided to get up at 4:00 a.m. to prepare. To my dismay, I noticed that my father set an alarm on the front door. I was planning to run away at 6:00 a.m., when the garbage truck arrived, because the noise from the truck would mask any noise I make while leaving. The alarm, however, would definitely alert father and Soumaya. I got too nervous and abandoned that idea. Instead, I waited until everyone woke up and had breakfast. My plan was ruined by the alarm, and I had to come up with a new plan fast! I had little time left. I innocently told father I wanted to go on a small walk before the departure, and as soon as I exited the front door, I bolted at full speed. It was hasty, but I had to do something. I didn't think father would catch on to my deception so quickly... After only clearing one block, I looked behind my shoulder and saw father chasing after me. All of my hope collapsed then and there, and I lost all of the fight in me. I stopped running and put my head down in defeat. Soumaya came in the car minutes later, and they both took me home. The plan failed. I was going to Morocco. The journey to Morocco was the most horrendous travel experience I've ever had. It was just me, Soumaya, and four-year-old Jazz. Jazz kept screaming and vomiting on the plane, Soumaya was in a sour mood, and I was completely miserable. I thought my whole life was all over. I had nothing to look forward to in the future. I wanted to die. Once I got there I felt like all of the life in me had drained out. I was so defeated. I couldn't help but cry all the time, even in front of Soumaya's relatives. Khadija didn't understand why I was so upset, and she got offended that I was crying on the first day at her house. It was a complete disaster. I kept dreaming of home. I thought of the prospect of being able to return home, and a small hope sparked in me. I kept emailing my mother frequently, telling her how much I hated being there and how much I cried all the time. I told her that if she would give me one more chance and enable me to come home, I will try harder to lead a better life and become a person she could be proud of. After a week of doing this, mother gave in and flew to Morocco to take me home. I won. I was going home. When I returned to the U.S., I felt so relieved that I forgot about my troubles for a few days and relaxed. It was good to be back home. This is where my fight is, right here in the U.S., and nowhere else. The sense of elation I felt soon wore off. My lonely life as a social outcast resumed. I continued going on my usual long walks every day, feeling angry and hateful towards the world. During mother's week, I would walk to the mall and sit on the balcony overlooking the food court next to the AMC theatres. There I would see all of the young couples lining up to see a movie, and I boiled with hatred. During father's week, I walked to the Calabasas Commons nearby, and sometimes I rode my bicycle. I also walked up the hill near my father's house to the Overlook. I spent a lot of time up there, contemplating about my life and fantasizing about becoming powerful enough to punish everyone I hate. On one dreadful day, when I was riding my bicycle near Calabasas, a group of popular teenagers in an SUV drove by and made fun of me. I suppose my appearance didn't help with that. I looked exactly like the outcast I was. I was still wearing plain polo shirts and khaki pants at the time, covered with a blue zip up hoodie and a black baseball cap. It was a torturous experience, and the pain I felt from it never went away. All I wanted was to fit in with those popular kids who lived such pleasurable lives, but instead I was ridiculed and reviled by them. They made me feel so inferior and undesirable. I will never forget that experience. It was burned into my memory. My misery became harder and harder to bear, and none of my parents understood my plight. My father thought that all was well with me. How could he be so blind? He was so caught up in his failing work that he didn't care about how my life was turning out. I cursed him for it. My father never made any effort to prepare me for facing such a cruel world. He never taught me how to attract girls. He never warned me that if I didn't attract girls at an early age, my life would fall into a miserable pit of despair! Again... How could he be so blind? I asked myself constantly. It all came to a climax on one of the days that I walked to the Calabasas Commons. I treaded through the area with my head down, all alone, in a state of complete despair about my life. I looked around me and saw lots of young couples holding hands and groups of good looking teenage boys and girls walking together and having fun on their Saturday night out. I saw all of those teenagers enjoying their pleasurable lives together, while I was all alone. They were enjoying everything I couldn't have. I was filled with intense anguish, and I quickly ran all the way back to father's house with tears pouring down my cheeks. Once I got home I had a breakdown and cried for hours and hours into the night.