The following is an excerpt from a forthcoming book which provides the missing psychological profile of O.J. Simpson and his involvement in the murder of his wife Nicole. The thoughtprint decoding method was used to decipher Simpson’s myriad of unconscious confessions in his various communications surrounding the murder. He provided a striking number of verbatim communications which were rich in hidden details about the murder. Here a portion of his “suicide note” is decoded revealing a confession and the story O.J. continually tells about his motives.
O.J. Simpson’s “suicide letter” offers us another unique window into the mind of O.J. Simpson at the hour of the second greatest crisis of his life, four days after the first. Dated June 15, 1994, the note was read to the American public two days later, following his escape and just prior to the ensuing Bronco chase.
A letter itself is a unique form of symbolic communication and thus lends itself to yet another kind of expertise far beyond typical hand-writing analysis. Handwriting, properly understood, is an art form, an indirect communication containing special clues and unconscious messages all its own. Slips of the pen, deletions, special emphasis, misspellings, and correctionscan all have great significance and symbolic meaning along with specific thoughtprints in the narrative. Even, in O.J.’s letter, we find “key stories” that shed light on his state of mind.
The context: He has just murdered Nicole and the police are after him. His guilt is being confronted. And he continues outwardly to deny the truth. Once again we see the power of the deeper mind, which will have its way regardless. It continues, in whatever setting (interrogation, books, suicide letter, Bronco chase) to dispense clues that there is another, much richer, story coming from his deeper mind: the real story.
Even if we read the letter on its own, out of context, as though we knew nothing about O.J., we would still see valuable clues about who the man was, and about his guilt. The element of confession would still leap off the pages. That was true of the police interrogation, of his book, and, as we will see in the next chapter, with the Bronco chase. Each communication, taken on its own, keeps declaring his guilt.
The very first sentence sets the pace with a remarkable slip of the pen. His conscience jumps into denial from the get-go. In the first sentence, he writes “...understand I had nothing to do with Nicole’s murder,” but then he scratches out the “I had.” Through his actions he’s saying, “I can’t say I had nothing to do with her murder.” Isn’t this the kind of slip we would expect from a man who isn’t an experienced killer, a man running for his life, a man whose actions have totally puzzled and overwhelmed him, a man who has just killed the one woman he believes he truly loved?
“...everyone understand nothing to do with Nicole’s murder.” First, he could be saying that he hopes we will overlook what has happened—understand nothing. This slip could also easily be read as “Everyone, understanding (had) nothing to do with Nicole’s murder,” or else “Everyone (including him) understands nothing to do with Nicole’s murder”—both accurate. In effect, O.J. is saying he really doesn’t understand why he did it, doesn’t want us to inquire, and wants to block out what he has done but can’t help but secretly confess.
Note his choice of the word “murder.” He could have said, instead, that he had nothing to do with Nicole’s “death” or “tragedy” or “catastrophe.” But murder, as we shall see, is very much on his mind. His preoccupation with the word will reveal his guilt. In light of his now obvious guilt (with the trial over), we can now see how quickly he has resorted to denial, which additionally offers its own witness.
If you look closely, he also seems to misspell Nicole’s name (adding a bizarre “e” and another letter—quite different than the way he spells it towards the end of his letter), as if to say, “this denial, this lie bothers me so much that I can’t even say her name correctly, just like I couldn’t say mine.”
At the end of the first sentence O.J. has confessed again to the murder of his wife, or at least told us that this blatant denial is simply untrue. He goes on to tell us what bothered him the most about the relationship.
In the second sentence O.J. moves right into his motivation for murdering Nicole, “I loved her.” In other words, “This was a crime of passion.” First message: I did it. Second message: Here is why.
He goes on, “(I loved her) ALLWAYS have and always will.” For anyone who would argue that O.J.’s misspellings were simple errors, here is clear evidence—as three words later he later correctly spells “always”—that he could spell better when he wanted to, and that his misspellings were unique communications within themselves, containing special messages from his deeper mind.
He’s saying that Nicole was his ALL, and without her he wasn’t an individual, was secretly terrified of being one. More evidence to that effect comes immediately:
“If we had a problem, it’s because I loved her too much.”
“If” we had a problem? Does anyone doubt that O.J. and Nicole had a problem? Simple decoding reflects that O.J. wanted to deny that they had a problem. He also shows us how he likes to shift the blame, or at the very least get someone to share it with him. O.J. links their problem, and his immediate problem—the murder—to loving her too much. This is certainly consistent with his slip “ALLWAYS” in the previous sentence. Of course, it wasn’t love but possessiveness, an unhealthy closeness where there’s no room for individuality. Remember as we read between the lines that, because this is a supposed suicide note, the unspoken question on the table throughout is “Why do you want to take your life?” Over and over, O.J. tells us the problem was that he loved her too much. He said it in the funeral home, at the viewing, as he moaned to himself in semi-privacy. He said it to Nicole’s mother Juditha Brown when she asked him if he killed her daughter. He said it to Faye Resnick, and now once again he says it to the world.
Consciously, he thinks that by telling us he loved her “too much” that we will to some extent excuse him, look the other way. Instead, we see it for the answer it is—a truthful one as to his motives—although he didn’t understand at all why he was so sickly attached to her. We all agree he loved her too much, although we really wouldn’t call it love but instead “possessiveness,” loss of boundaries, fear, retreat, control. Love is something altogether different, something O.J. knew far too little about. Love is not controlling, retaliatory, or dangerous.
“Recitly we camE to the UNDARSTANDING THAT FOR NOW WE WER’NT RIGHT for each OTHER at LEAST FOR NOW.”
Where do we start? The numerous misspellings, changes in print style, and write-overs tell us O.J. is one uncertain, wavering man who barely knows which end is up, although his deeper mind is taking the opportunity to make a sterling appearance. Let’s start with the obvious: “recitly” and the word “now” repeated twice in the same sentence.
O.J. is speaking as though Nicole is still living and there is still the possibility of reconciliation. Now means now, the present. He is in massive denial—particularly, when it comes to death. It’s a continuation of the same pattern. He wants so badly to keep Nicole alive, even now to undo the separation, that he says “now” twice, as if wishing will make it so.
And what about “recitly”—perhaps just a phonetic misspelling, but perhaps also “recitly” as in “recite,” reciting your lines. Is O.J. cluing us in that these are somewhat well rehearsed lines about how mutual the understanding was, since we know clearly that it wasn’t mutual but singular?
The next most striking feature is “UNDARSTANDING.” The word leaps out at us, not just because it’s suddenly in caps, but also because of a write-over and misspelling. O.J., in short, has butchered the word in print, just as he did in everyday life (having no understanding of himself or relationships). The striking part of the word is “UNDAR” with the “A” standing out particularly, being a write-over for what appeared to be the correct letter “E.” We could read this as him saying he was close to getting it right, but that there was something uncomfortable about spelling it right. So what does “under” remind you of?
If we look exactly four lines up above, we see the word “murder” staring us in the face. “urder” is awfully close to “under,” but not so close to “undar.” “Under”(standing) also by its very name draws attention to what is above it—“(m)urder.” Is O.J. telling us that simply the thought of murder makes him uncomfortable, and he wants to change the subject or the spelling of anything that reminds him (or us) of it.? We will see further evidence in a moment that O.J. both recognizes his aggression, wants to confess it, and wants to hide it at the same time.
The next conflict that O.J. literally shows us in his own handwriting uses print as an art form to say, “Pay attention to where I darken and change this picture.” The word “wer’nt” is clearly an in-between word as O.J. barely squeezes the “n” in, running it together with the “t” (wer’nt). He’s talking about the separation, and he’s telling us that he was very mixed up about it. In other words, “we were” and “we weren’t” married, and that certainly characterized their entire relationship, most assuredly at the end.
The next write-over seems to confirm this same conflict as the write-over “LEAST” looks for all the world like “resist” with “i” left out (but the dot of the “i” still there). O.J. seems to be saying that he was very much resisting the understanding that they weren’t right for each other, still having a hard time accepting divorce, resisting the truth that Nicole had told him it was over.
If we look closely at the sentence, we also see the word “RIGHT” standing out like a beacon in broadly spaced capital letters with the confusing “wer’nt” on one side and “for” in small letters on the other ("wer’nt RIGHT for each other"). He will do the same thing again shortly. O.J. shows us that deep down he’s very preoccupied with “RIGHT” as opposed to wrong. As O.J. has shown us over and over, in his heart he knows what the right story is, and he’s trying to tell us, as hard as he’s fighting it.
“Dispite our love we were DIFfearat AND THATS WHY WE MURTUALLY AGResd to GO OUR SPAERATE ways..” In this next sentence, we immediately see five more misspellings. First, there’s “Dispite” which we could read as both “dis” (as in “dissing") or disrespecting someone and having “spite” for them, essentially the same message—here O.J. knows he has shown spite for their love.
“Dispite” is also very close to “dispute,” and if read along those lines O.J. could be telling us that the “dispute” which arose in their love related to his next misspelling “DIFfearent,”—that O.J. greatly disputed the whole idea of being separate from Nicole, and that underlying this was his fear of being different, of being an individual. This misspelling is one of the most striking in the entire letter, and goes right to the core of his problems: why he was so terrified that he ended up killing his wife.
He underscores this in the same sentence in his misspellings of both “agreed” (agresd) and “separate” (spaerate).
It is not hard to see that this is just another confirmation of the same hidden message that separation and indivuduation is the problem. O.J. could not agree at all with Nicole’s idea of being separate, and he tells us so plainly. And if we pay attention to his emphasis on the “SP” in “SPaerate,” and look exactly one line below we will see exactly how O.J. experiences separtaion—as SPITTING. (The next sentence, “IT WAS TOUGH SPITTING for a second time.”)
To separate from a man as emotionally vulnerable as O.J. is the equivalent of spitting on him. How did O.J. experience this trauma, and others, deep inside? He tells us, in his most blatant slip. He even emphasized “IT WAS TOUGH SPITTING” in caps and broader spacing to draw our attention to his pain. In essence, O.J. is writing a condensed thesis on why passion killers do what they do.
What happens when you get spit on, and you’re as vulnerable as O.J.? You spit back. He degraded Nicole, as he felt degraded.
Yes, it’s sick but people as frightened as O.J. was lifelong really and truly experience healthy boundaries of individuation in a paranoid way—as though the healthy person is really evil. Appropriate separation and individuation meant death and danger to O.J. In the back of his mind, the second he was really alone, he was in great danger. We have already seen from his background how such an idea developed in his mind.
There’s another hint of his aggression in the preceding sentence, “we MURTUALLY agresd to go our separate ways.” Murtu (of “murtually”) is not far from “murdur.” This is the second potential slip around the word murder, a word O.J. used in the very first sentence, and clearly a word that would be on his mind, even though he consciously would not want to think about it. But his deeper mind wants to confess, wants him to see what he had done. Here he literally murders the word “mutual", but he did the same thing in everyday life.
The very next word which is suppossed to be “agreed” becomes “agresd” which, consistent with O.J.’s previous efforts, means he doesn’t agree at all with the separation and has aggressed upon the idea ("aggressive” from “agresd") as he does at the end of the sentence by butchering “separate ways” and turning the period at the end of the sentence into a thick blur as though he’s smashed it. In the very next sentence, where he makes his magnificent slip “SPITTING” (for splitting), hostility and aggression are clearly on his mind.
Looking at handwriting in this way is very similar to what art therapists do daily with psychiatric patients around the country, to help them understand themselves. These therapists believe that our mind is a thousand times more capable in communicating than we generally appreciate.
Let’s pause and look at the words O.J. tripped over: recently, understanding (the divorce), different, separate ways, agreed, splitting, doubt. O.J.’s inordinate difficulties with being a unique separate different individual—his doubt about the recent split—leap off the pages. And so does his hosility: murder, resist, aggression, spit. All this difficulty with separation, all this hostility—and all in the first paragraph. We are getting a unique look at the mind of a killer, a look that he spontaneously supplies. Keep in mind that the big topics, the ideas, and the sequencing give us major clues to the way he thinks deep down. If we stand far enough back we see an incredible story: “denial” of murdering Nicole in such a way that confirms it, and why he did it. He loved her too much, couldn’t agree to separate, feared being alone (different), feared being an individual as evidenced in the numerous ways he tried to undo it including the repeated wish to deny the separation, despite the tremendously degrading way he experienced it.