My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm an enormously successful Wall Street broker with the best of everything - the finest suits money can buy, an expensive apartment suite with spectacular view, my own limo, extremely nice business cards and the most beautiful girlfriend. However, it is never enough to fit in.On the inside, I'm a monster – complete with an insatiable blood lust and lack of empathy for fellow human beings. My need to engage in homicidal behavior on a massive scale cannot be corrected, but I have no other way to fulfill my needs.There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there.I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflow into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.It is hard for me to make sense on any given level. My self is fabricated, an aberration. My personality is sketchy and unformed, my heartlessness goes deep and is persistent.Excuse me, I have to return some video tapes.
