I must leave. I need to isolate myself from the rest of the human race. I'm just sick of living in paranoia, just because two x-chromosomes fancied each other. THE WORLD MUST END, because there is no cure for the plague of humans other than the plague of humans. We our the deaths of ourselves.

Not less than an hour ago, I was watching the national news (I don't, normally, because it's mostly random gibberish. Nobody cares for celebrities and their love lives). Apparently, a female student was murdered, assaulted and murdered. This is one of the times when I could seriously (yes, seriously and not Siriusly because I'm actually serious and not Sirius) use my death-ray idea. Destroy the human race or rule over it like an angry god(dess).

It's either that or migrate to the cold, unforgiving land of Antarctica. At least there aren't any humans there and I can feel safer without needing to change my gender. There will, of course, be the matter of carrying all the sweaters and stuff and a wifi (hey, I'm not that strong) and a bunch of books to keep me company. I could take some cats, too (furry ones, ver furry ones) and become a creepy cat woman who lives at the south pole. I could become a cryptid. The creepy cat-woman who comes out every six months during the time of nightfall in Antarctica and hunts down and eats all those who venture about in the lonely place for the fun of it (I've always wondered what human flesh must taste like, really) and/or for revenge and some story that isn't actually true made by someone who didn't actually visit the south pole...herp, derp. I wonder how slenderman and jeff and bigfoot survive this; no, actually that must explain a lot. The human race, I REPEAT AND EMPHASISE, is the plague at the top of the food chain.

In conclusion, I must quote the words of my best friend Pritika:

I dip-dye my hair with the blood of the men who have wronged me.