Are you happy?

Tell me really.
Are you happy?

Do you even know what happy is?

So few do.

The world's a mess, you can't deny that. Not because we made it that way, not because we're all inherently evil and selfish. The world's a mess because we're all so busy trying to pretend we're happy and tell each other the things which we need to do and have and buy to make us happy that we don't even realise how fucking empty we all are.

Your life is a shell. It has no purpose. You will trundle through this world, crashing into things along the way, never looking up, never seeking truth. Never being happy.

It's just too fucking painful to admit, to accept, to open your eyes and look, and see. So you don't. Or if you catch a glimpse, you go buy smoething shiny to distract yourself so you never have to think about it.

The few that face the pain of seeing, the even fewer that try and explain, or act to change things - the world you live in things they're insane.

The world you live in thinks I'm insane. And that's cool, you know, I probably am. What I do makes me that way, but being that way doesn't make me do what I do.
The worst, the most unhappy, those who make others more unhappy - even without meaning to - I help them.
You? You probably won't be able to make sense of this. That's cool too, it's probably good for you that you can't.

Until now, your world hasn't noticed me, and that's good. But what I do has a purpose. The only way to fix the world is to make it happier. The only way to do that is to put to rest those people that add to the unhappiness.
I'm one man. I can't do it all. But when I see someone whose pain is too great, I do my best to end it for the sake of everyone else.
Not everyone deserves life. I end those too. The cruel, the evil, the ones who do great wrong and remain untouched.

You can call me Garrett.
No that's not my real name.
No you'll never see my face.
Yes I'm using every trick I know of to stop this blog being traced.

And yes, every story here is true.