In Santa Barbara, I spent almost all of my time in my room, brooding. I began building on all of my
philosophical views and theories about the world. I had to question why things were the way they were.
The world is so twisted, and I wanted answers.
I hated all of those obnoxious, boisterous men who were able to enjoy pleasurable sex lives with
beautiful girls, but I hated the girl’s even more, because they were the ones who chose those men
instead of me. It was their choice. They are the ones who deprived me of love and sex.
My hatred and rage towards all women festered inside me like a plague. Their very existence is the
cause of all of my torture, pain and suffering throughout my life. My life turned into a living hell after I
started desiring them when I hit puberty. I desire them intensely, but I could never have them. I could
never have the experience of holding hands with a beautiful girl and walking on a moonlit beach, I could
never embrace a girlfriend and feel her warmth and love, I could never have passionate sex with a girl
and drift off to sleep with her sexy body beside me. Women deemed me unworthy of having them, and
so they deprived me of an enjoyable youth, while giving their love and sex to other boys. In all of those
years I suffered a life of sexual starvation and unfulfilled desires. I will never get those years back. My
life has been wasted, all because women hate me so much.
All I had ever wanted was to love women, but their behavior has only earned my hatred. I want to
have sex with them, and make them feel good, but they would be disgusted at the prospect. They have
no sexual attraction towards me. It is such an injustice, and I vehemently questioned why things had to
be this way. Why do women behave like vicious, stupid, cruel animals who take delight in my suffering
and starvation? Why do they have a perverted sexual attraction for the most brutish of men instead of
gentlemen of intelligence?
I concluded that women are flawed. There is something mentally wrong with the way their brains are
wired, as if they haven’t evolved from animal-like thinking. They are incapable of reason or thinking
rationally. They are like animals, completely controlled by their primal, depraved emotions and
impulses. That is why they are attracted to barbaric, wild, beast-like men. They are beasts themselves.
Beasts should not be able to have any rights in a civilized society. If their wickedness is not contained,
the whole of humanity will be held back from advancement to a more civilized state. Women should not
have the right to choose who to mate with. That choice should be made for them by civilized men of
intelligence. If women had the freedom to choose which men to mate with, like they do today, they
would breed with stupid, degenerate men, which would only produce stupid, degenerate offspring. This
in turn would hinder the advancement of humanity. Not only hinder it, but devolve humanity
completely. Women are like a plague that must be quarantined. When I came to this brilliant, perfect
revelation, I felt like everything was now clear to me, in a bitter, twisted way. I am one of the few people
on this world who has the intelligence to see this. I am like a god, and my purpose is to exact ultimate
Retribution on all of the impurities I see in the world.
The Spring of 2013 was also the time when I came across the website PUAHate.com. It is a forum full
of men who are starved of sex, just like me. Many of them have their own theories of what women are
attracted to, and many of them share my hatred of women, though unlike me they would be too
cowardly to act on it. Reading the posts on that website only confirmed many of the theories I had
about how wicked and degenerate women really are. Most of the people on that website have
extremely stupid opinions that I found very frustrating, but I found a few to be quite insightful.
The website PUAHate is very depressing. It shows just how bleak and cruel the world is due of the
evilness of women. I tried to show it to my parents, to give them some sort dose of reality as to why I
am so miserable. They never understood why I am so miserable. They have always had the delusion that
everything is going well for me, especially my father. When I sent the link of PUAHate.com to my
parents, none of them even bothered to look at the posts on there.
After a Spring season spent in absolute despair while other young people lived healthy lives of sexual
pleasure, summer arrived. Summer is even worse than Spring, especially in Santa Barbara. Flocks of hot,
young girls go out in their shorts and bikini’s, further tantalizing my sex-starved body every time I look at
them. Knowing that they gleefully show off their desirable forms, yet they would never give me a chance
to be their boyfriend only increased my already boiling hatred towards all women. I could not leave my
apartment without seeing at least a few of them. The only place I could go where I could be at peace
was the Lake Park in Goleta. I spent a lot of time there, trying to establish a sense peace and serenity
whenever my loneliness in Isla Vista became too unbearable. As I looked at all of the beautiful trees
around me, and the towering mountains in the background, I wondered how a world so beautiful can be
such a dark and cruel place. Indeed, a beautiful environment is the darkest hell if you have to experience
it all alone, while other men get to enjoy the company of women.
I had nothing left to live for but revenge. Women must be punished for their crimes of rejecting such
a magnificent gentleman as myself. All of those popular boys must be punished for enjoying heavenly
lives and having sex with all the girls while I had to suffer in lonely virginity. It was already June, and I
had been living in Santa Barbara for two years. Two whole years. I lived in a college town full of young,
attractive students who partied and had sex all the time, and I didn’t get to experience any of it. No one
invited me to any parties, and in all the times I went out by myself to Isla Vista, none of the beautiful
blonde girls showed any interest in having sex with me. Not one girl. These are crimes than cannot go
unpunished. The more I thought about all these injustices that were dealt to me, the more eager I
became for revenge. It’s all I had left. I didn’t want to die, but I knew that I had to kill myself after I
exacted my revenge to avoid getting captured and imprisoned.
For a while, I had been deciding on whether I would exact my Retribution in Isla Vista or at Santa
Barbara City College. In both places, I had suffered greatly at the hands of everyone there. I have seen
attractive young couples walking around in both places, and those were my targets. I wanted to kill as
many attractive young couples as I possibly could.
After a lot of thinking, I came to the conclusion that the Day of Retribution will take place in Isla Vista.
On weekend nights, the streets of Isla Vista are always flooded with young couples and good-looking
popular kids walking to their parties. What better place is there to exact my Retribution on my enemies?
Every time I walked around Isla Vista, trying to meet girls or fit in with popular kids, I’ve only been
treated with disdain, as if I’m an inferior mouse. On the Day of Retribution, the tables will indeed turn, I
mused to myself. I will be a god, and they will all be animals that I can slaughter. They are animals… They
behave like animals, and I will slaughter them like the animals they are.
It came to a point where I had to set a date for the Day of Retribution. I originally considered doing it
on the Halloween of 2013. That is when the entire town erupts in raucous partying. There would literally
be thousands of people crowded together who I could kill with ease, and the goal was to kill everyone in
Isla Vista, to utterly destroy that wretched town. But then, after seeing footage of previous Halloween
events on Youtube, I saw that there were too many cops walking around. It would be too risky. One
gunshot from a cop will end everything. The Day of Retribution would have to be on a normal party
weekend, so I set it for some time during November of 2013.
This goal would give me five months to plan and prepare. Five more months of life, but then again I
wouldn’t even call it life. The existence I’ve had on this world during the last eight years is anything but
life. A feeling of overwhelming dizziness and anxiety swept over me. I was actually going to die. I
couldn’t believe it. Then I realized that my life was already over anyway. I was never going to lose my
virginity; I was never going to experience love and sex; I was never going to have children. This final act
of Retribution is the only thing I could do. It was very hard to come to terms with this fact. I felt very
trapped and lost.
I hated the feeling of being trapped and lost. I wanted a way out, but I saw none. I had already spent
two years in Santa Barbara, and I was still a virgin. There was no way I could ever attract a girl without
becoming extremely wealthy, and all of my prospects of becoming wealthy at a young age seemed
In the beginning of summer, I went on a few walks around Isla Vista during daylight hours. While on
these walks, I saw so many attractive young people walking around in their little groups, having the time
of their lives. Some of the guys in those groups weren’t even good looking, while I am good looking. I
couldn’t understand how they could be accepted, while I wasn’t. I furiously questioned why I haven’t
been able to have such experiences after living in Isla Vista for two years. It was unfathomable.
I wanted answers. I wanted to know why it had to come to this. If only one pretty girl had shown
some form of attraction to me, the Day of Retribution would never happen. I’d never even consider it.
The Day of Retribution is mainly my war against women for rejecting me and depriving me of sex and
love. If only one girl had given me a chance, tried to get to know me, let me take her out on a date…
None of this would have to happen. It was so hard to accept that things would have to resort to me
having to perform this act of Retribution I was planning.
While I visited home, my parents, along with my psychiatrist Dr. Charles Sophy, arranged for a
counsellor to meet me frequently and help me out with my life. His name was Gavin Linderman, a clean-
cut twenty five-year-old. He had a similar role to Tony, my old counsellor from the regional center back
when I was nineteen, except Gavin was much younger and acted more like a friend who could take me
out to places. Every time I went back to visit my parents, I would meet up with Gavin once. We usually
met up at a restaurant somewhere, or went on a hike. I told him about all of my problems with girls, and
all of the hardships I’ve had to face in Santa Barbara. Being familiar with Isla Vista himself, since he spent
a great deal of time there when he was younger, he confirmed to me that yes, the girls in Isla Vista
prefer tall, muscular, rowdy jock-type men.
Gavin was the only young person I really interacted with at the time, besides the occasional meetings
with Philip and Addison. He was a good-looking guy, with a chiseled jaw and bright blonde hair.
Whenever we went out to a restaurant, or anywhere that had girls, I got extremely jealous when I saw
that girls were checking him out instead of me. This one girl at a restaurant in Santa Monica was staring
at him the whole time we were sitting there. No girl had ever done that to me. This only made me more
aware that girls did not consider me physically attractive. My hatred of the female gender could grow no
stronger. It was too much.
On Father’s Day, I went with my family to the Four Season’s Resort in Westlake Village. The Four
Season’s held their annual Father’s Day buffet. The place was very beautiful and opulent, and there was
delicious food of all kinds to choose from. I always looked forward to events like this. Since I had no
access to sex, food was my only vice. As with all buffets that I had attended, I stuffed myself
tremendously, trying to sample every single thing they offered. There was pork sausage, bacon, smoked
salmon, sushi, filet mignon, roast chicken, roast potatoes… And I took pleasure in eating as much as I
could. I filled my plate three times and devoured all of them. As I enjoyed my exquisite meal, I took in
the scenery all around me; the perfectly built architecture of the building, the pretty flowers in the
gardens, the luxurious furniture and décor, the cascading fountains. It truly made me feel good, a
welcome respite from all of my suffering in Santa Barbara. Respites like these make me more aware that
there are so many good and beautiful things in this world to enjoy. If my status in life were better, I
would think this world to be a magnificent place, and I could truly enjoy life. If I was satisfied with my
circumstances in life, I would be able to enjoy this beautiful world to its fullest. I can’t be satisfied with
life if I’m a virgin and girls are repulsed by me. It’s such a tragedy.
I realized that I didn’t want to give up on life in this world. I wanted to live a happy life, a life in which
I could have a beautiful girlfriend and experience this amazing world with her. I decided that since my
plans for the Day of Retribution wouldn’t be taking place until November, I could use the time I had
during the summer to give life another chance; one last chance before the end, one last ditch effort to
In late June, my mother moved out of the Summit Town Homes and bought a house in West Hills. It
was the first time my mother bought a house, as she had only rented in the past. The house had recently
undergone a renovation, so it was practically brand new. The house had a swimming pool and was
located in a nice enough area, though I would have still preferred it if my mother had gotten married to
a wealthy man and moved into a mansion. I still continued to pester her to do this, and she still
stubbornly refused. I will always resent my mother for refusing to do this. If not for her sake, she should
have done it for mine. Joining a family of great wealth would have truly saved my life. I would have a
high enough status to attract beautiful girlfriends and live above all of my enemies. All of my horrific
troubles would have been eased instantly. It is very selfish of my mother to not consider this.
With the help of Gavin, my parents arranged for me to have a couple of social skills counsellors to
work with me in Santa Barbara. They would have a similar role that Gavin did, providing someone to
take me out and help me practice socializing. They would be like hired friends. Of course, I did need
something like this, and I should have signed up for it when I first moved to Santa Barbara. It was a little
too late at this point, I feared, but I went along with it anyway. I was so lonely in Santa Barbara, and in
my loneliness I always craved having someone to talk to.
The first counsellor was a very easy going man named Karlin, who was the same age as Gavin. On my
first night of meeting Karlin, he took me out to Isla Vista, but nothing came out of it. We just ended up
walking around until his time was up. During our walk, I asked him if he had ever had sex with girls in Isla
Vista, and he told me he had sex with four girls! I was very jealous. Karlin was half Hawaiian and half
Mexican, and he wasn’t that good looking. How on earth could he have managed to sleep with four girls
in Isla Vista, while I had been there for two years and had none? It seemed absolutely preposterous. I
didn’t want to see him at all after I found this out.
The second counsellor that was assigned to help me was a girl named Sasha. She was only a year
older than me. Sasha was the first young girl I had interacted with in the entire time I stayed in Santa
Barbara, and she was only hired to talk to me. How pathetic is that? At first, I didn’t want to have a
female counsellor, but when I was introduced to her, I saw that she was quite a pretty looking blonde. I
couldn’t refuse the opportunity to hang out with a blonde girl, despite the fact that she was a hired
friend. It was the only time in my life that I had the experience of spending time with a girl my age, and
even though it was all fake, I really enjoyed it. I felt so much better about life after each time we met.
But then, I thought about how unfair it was that I could only get a fake little taste of such an experience,
while other men get to do such a thing every single day with their girlfriends. Eventually, Sasha had to
move out of Santa Barbara, and I decided not to have any more female counsellors. It has the same
effect as hiring a prostitute, I imagine. It temporarily feels good for the moment, but afterward it makes
one feel like a pathetic loser for having to hire a girl when other men could get the experience for free.
In July, I spent a lot of time exercising in my room in a final effort to appear as attractive as possible
to girls. I proposed that after two weeks of rigorous exercising, I will try my hardest to go out in Isla Vista
and do everything I can to meet a girl and lose my virginity. It had been a long time since I went out to
Isla Vista by myself, but I knew that I had to do it. I had nothing to lose, and my whole life was on the
line. Before would set the definite decision to plan the Day of Retribution, I wanted to give women and
humanity one more chance to accept me and give me a chance to have a pleasurable youth. I resolved
that if I go out to Isla Vista for this final time, and I still end up going back to my room as a lonely virgin, I
will have no choice but to plan my Retribution.
I even attended college at SBCC again. I signed up for a summer sociology class and attended it for a
week, before dropping it out of the familiar frustration of girls talking to other boys instead of me.
This last ditch effort of desperation to once again try to live an enjoyable college life in Isla Vista came
to an ultimate and devastating culmination on Saturday night, July 20
, just a few days before my 22
It was the day that I decided to go out in Isla Vista in an attempt to lose my virginity before I turned
22. That was the only thing that could have saved me. I was giving the female gender one last chance to
provide me with the pleasures I deserved from them.
I was too nervous to go out there sober, so I bought a bottle of vodka and took a few shots to garner
enough courage to walk out at such an hour. I had taken one too many, for by the time I reached Del
Playa Street, my head was clouded with drunkenness. At the start, it benefited me greatly. I saw lots of
good looking popular kids socializing in groups all over the place, and if I wasn’t drunk it would have
intimidated me too much. I was so drunk that I walked right into a wild house party that was taking
place on Del Playa. They had a DJ playing annoying hip hop music that all the young people liked these
days, and there was a ping pong table set up where lots of popular kids were playing “beer pong”, a
crude drinking game.
There were about one hundred people at that party, and everyone was socializing with a group of
friends except for me. I walked around in my drunken confidence for a few moments, helped myself to
the beer they had, and tried to act like a normal party-goer. I soon became frustrated that no one was
paying any attention to me, particularly the girls. I saw girls talking to other guys who looked like
obnoxious slobs, but none of them showed any interest in me. As my frustration grew, so did my anger. I
came across this Asian guy who was talking to a white girl. The sight of that filled me with rage. I always
felt as if white girls thought less of me because I was half-Asian, but then I see this white girl at the party
talking to a full-blooded Asian. I never had that kind of attention from a white girl! And white girls are
the only girls I’m attracted to, especially the blondes. How could an ugly Asian attract the attention of a
white girl, while a beautiful Eurasian like myself never had any attention from them? I thought with rage.
I glared at them for a bit, and then decided I had been insulted enough. I angrily walked toward them
and bumped the Asian guy aside, trying to act cocky and arrogant to both the boy and the girl. My
drunken state got the better of me, and I almost fell over to the floor after a few minutes of this. They
said something along the lines that I was very drunk and that I needed to get some water, so I angrily
left them and went out to the front yard, where the main partying happened. Rage fumed inside me as I
realized that I just walked away from that confrontation, so I rushed back into the house and spitefully
insulted the Asian before walking outside again.
I stood awkwardly in the front yard for a bit, realizing how pathetic I looked all by myself when
everyone was partying around me. To calm down, I climbed up onto a wooden ledge that bordered the
street and plunged down on one of the chairs there. Isla Vista was at its wildest state at that time, and I
saw lots of guys walking around with hot blonde girls on their arm. It fueled me with rage, as it always
had. I should be one of those guys, but no blonde girls gave me that chance. I looked down at all of
them, and in my drunken carelessness, extended my arm out and pretended to shoot them all, laughing
giddily as I did it. Eventually, some partiers climbed up onto the ledge. They were all obnoxious, rowdy
boys whom I’ve always despised. A couple of pretty girls came up and talked to them, but not to me.
They all started socializing right next to me, and none of the girls paid any attention to me. I rose from
my chair and tried to act arrogant and cocky toward them, throwing insults at everyone. They only
laughed at me and started insulting me back. That was the last straw, I had taken enough insults that
night. A dark, hate-fueled rage overcame my entire being, and I tried to push as many of them as I could
from the 10-foot ledge. My main target was the girls. I wanted to punish them for talking to the
obnoxious boys instead of me. It was one of the most foolish and rash things I ever did, and I almost
risked everything in doing it, but I was so drunk with rage that I didn’t care. I failed to push any of them
from the ledge, and the boys started to push me, which resulted in me being the one to fall onto the
street. When I landed, I felt a snap in my ankle, followed by a stinging pain. I slowly got up and found
that I couldn’t even walk. I had to stumble, and stumble I did. I tried to get away from there as fast as I
As I stumbled a few yards down Del Playa with my shattered leg, I realized that someone had stolen
my Gucci sunglasses that my mother had given me. I loved those sunglasses, and had to get them back. I
vehemently turned around and staggered back towards the party. At that point, I was so drunk that I
forgot where the party was, and ended up walking onto the front yard of the house next to it,
demanding to know who took my sunglasses. The people in this house must have been friends with the
ones I previously fought with, for they greeted me with vicious hostility. They called me names like
“faggot” and “pussy”, typical things those types of scumbags would say. A whole group of the obnoxious
brutes came up and dragged me onto their driveway, pushing and hitting me. I wanted to fight and kill
them all. I managed to throw one punch toward the main attacker, but that only caused them to beat
me even more. I fell to the ground where they started kicking me and punching me in the face.
Eventually, some other people from the street broke up the fight. I managed to have the strength to
stand up and stagger away.
It was the first time in my life that I had been truly beaten up physically to the point where my face
was bruised up. I had suffered a lot of bullying in my life, but most of it wasn’t physical. I had never been
beaten and humiliated that badly. Everyone in Isla Vista saw what happened, and it was truly horrific.
The worst part of this whole ordeal was not getting beaten up, oh no. It was the fact that no one
showed any concern. There was only one group who helped me to the end of Del Playa, but after that
they abandoned me. Not one girl offered to help me as I stumbled home with a broken leg, beaten and
bloody. If girls had been attracted to me, they would have offered to walk me to my room and take care
of me. They would have even offered to sleep with me to make me feel better. But no, not one girl
showed an ounce of concern for me. They didn’t care. No one cared about me. I was all alone.
As I got to my room, I was so traumatized that I called the only people in the world I knew, my
parents and my sister. Yes, I even called my sister, someone I never got along with. I sulked for a long
time, and then I reached up to my neck to feel my special golden necklace, and I felt nothing there. In
the midst of the fight, one of those horrible punks had snatched off my special golden necklace that my
grandma Ah Mah had given me! That necklace was one of the most special items I had, and now one of
those evil, wretched thugs will be selling it to buy drugs. I broke down in anguish and wailed in agony,
crying and crying until I passed out in my bed, all alone.
When I woke up the next morning, my leg was in absolute agony. It was purple and swollen, and I
could not even stumble anymore. I had to crawl. Being fully sober, all of my anxiety came back. It
became very clear to me what had happened. I felt enraged by everything, but also fearful that I might
get in trouble. I did try to push girls off of a ledge and threatened to kill all of those people, which could
implicate me. I had to concoct a fairly altered story to explain to the police, who would inevitably have
to interview me once I got to the hospital and reported my injury.
My father drove up to Santa Barbara to bring me to the hospital. Two police did interview me, and I
told them that those boys deliberately pushed me off of the ledge after I acted “cocky” towards them. I
didn’t mention the girls at all. I expressed to the police of my wishes that they should all be punished for
this. The police then went to interview them, and they had their own version of the story. Since there
was no actual evidence, the whole case was shortly dismissed.
The physician at the hospital put me in a temporary cast and gave me crutches. On top of all other
things in the world that made me feel inferior, I was now a cripple. I felt so defeated and broken. To my
horror, the physician said that I would have to be in crutches for the next six weeks, and I might have to
The leg that broke was my left leg, so I was still able to drive. Shortly after the incident, I drove home
to spend the rest of the summer recovering. It was a depressing drive. I had never felt so defeated and
wronged in my life. I had actually gone out to a party in Isla Vista, hoping that I would be walking back to
my room in triumph with a beautiful girl on my arm, but instead I stumbled back to my room with a
shattered leg and shattered hopes.
Birthday was a miserable experience. I sat around at my mother’s house, staring at my
broken leg, feeling so pathetic for being a cripple, as well as a 22-year-old virgin. My mother bought me
a new golden necklace to replace the one that was stolen from me, as she knew how heartbroken I was
about losing it.