This fellow in Pittsburgh, George Sodini, felt rejected by women, embarrassed by his mother, bullied by his brother.
Somehow he just never found the handle. It seems that he found some professional success, having become a systems analyst - one of those jobs you hear about people having, but you don't really know what the job entails unless you are one, and then you better hope you know what you're doing.
Sodini didn't know what he was doing when it came to socializing with the opposite sex. He had not been to bed with anyone since 1984, hadn't had a date in almost that long, and it's clear that he just did not have that grip. He made several videos and posted them on YouTube. One of them is a tour of his house; he doesn't say why, in the video, he is taking the viewer on a walkaround, giving details about even how much he paid for the house and how much extra storage space he has, since he's the only occupant. Is he trying to convince prospective mates that his house - speaking metaphorically here: his life - is worth sharing? The other video is a sort of tour of his soul; he talks about what it's like to be he, and that is sad, friends.
He gave up on women his own age and set his sights on younger ones in the video ("my objective is to be real and learn to be emotional and to, you know, to be able to emotionally connect with people because when I am 10 to 20 years older than she is, you know, she has to feel good about this thing.")
But this is the saddest part. "Women just don't like me. There are 30 million desirable women in the US (my estimate) and I cannot find one. Not one of them finds me attractive," he says.
Sad. I guess it's easy to say this in hindsight, but perhaps someone should have steered him to a counselor, who could have helped him learn to like himself, and then he could have found someone.
Remember the old poem "Richard Cory," by Edwin Arlington Robinson? The rich, natty, man-about-town who everyone thinks has everything goes home and puts a bullet through his head. Sodini did the same, after first killing three women at an LA Fitness gym in Pittsburgh.
There is sadness abounding for many, and it's really not all that far beneath the surface. We all know someone lonesome. Wouldn't it be a nice thing to make them feel included, before those lonesome teardrops roil the emotional waters into a turbid, muddy trap for innocent and tortured alike?