Time to Engage in Dangerous Behaviors

This is one of those nights where every fiber in my body is vibrating and I can think of nothing more fun than sinking to my knees in front of the nearest stranger. Filthy bathrooms in worn out clubs that look almost magical at night but sad and tired during the day. This is the time that I personify dangerous behaviors and need to take my energy, anger, and hatred out doing something fun and yes sucking a stranger off in a random bathroom is fun. It’s power and don’t let anyone ever tell you it isn’t. The way girl or guy looks at you when they know you are in control and that you are making them feel like indescribable incandescent pleasure in such a objectionable place.

There are some things that cannot be replaced by a safe, sane, alternative.

 

And for those of you who like such things.

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On Being Alone

There are a lot of truths about me that I am fine with being alone is one of them. I hope those who read this add their own.

1. I am fine with being alone. I like it, need it, cringe without it. Many don’t understand that I don’t need someone there with me on a daily, weekly, or even monthly basis. I particularly don’t need a boyfriend or girlfriend to validate me.

2. I get more accomplished when there is no one around.

3. I like to eat alone because I can read or simply enjoy the food without having to make conversation.

4. I like to go to movies alone. I can hog the drink and popcorn. I can enjoy the movie without someone judging me for what I am watching or what I think about it.

5. I don’t care if people see me alone. I really don’t care what they think. When they try to keep me company because I am alone and must need it it just keeps me from enjoying the activity I am doing.

6. I don’t think a woman alone has a problem, no friends, or is lonely.

7. Please don’t touch me. I don’t like it when you do. It is not that I am inhuman I just don’t want your hand on me. I don’t feel an obligation to put my hand on you. I don’t want to be hugged or comforted I might be alone but I am not lonely.

8. If it looks like I am doing something I probably am, leave me alone. This is a big one for people who interrupt my reading, eating, or working time.

9. I am not lonely. Alone does not equal lonely please don’t assume it does.

10. I am not in the market for a husband, boyfriend, partner, or lover. I do not need someone to complete me I am complete all on my own.

These are all things about me that people have mentioned or done. Some of them drive me crazy (like I am not there already). Society tries to dictate what I should feel when I am not with someone and it makes me cringe because it is just not me. Just because I happen to be alone it does not make me lonely.

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The Clowns are chewing away in the most painfully unpleasant fashion

A hate has been rising up in me. It started as a slow burn that only twinged a little bit. You know the feeling when you see, do, or have done to you something that is only slightly unjust. It can be pried out of you with a kind word or happy thought. If it is not excised it continues to grow into a burning, a torturous heat with hard edge. It can still be cut from your heart by pure unadulterated lust and the wonderfully rough sex that comes with it. The kind of physical contact that leaves you sore and aching in the morning because you both have taken the hate out on each other and are better for it. This is the kind of fucking that most people only engage in once or twice and think that it is adventurous. The kind where the participants have no idea how close they’ve come to tearing each other apart.

It wandered into the territory of a bright flame as it grew. The hard edge to it becoming a bludgeon working further into my soul. Twisting into it like something wrong and painful. Although much harder to do because the edges of the heart are torn and bruised it can still be torn from the body, but only by using another as you are used in a visceral meeting of the two sexes. The kind of fucking that not many know and others think they’ve gone insane to engage in. The kind where you rip into the other person taking pain and pleasure instead of just giving it.

Then it turned to a roaring fire as it continued to grow. The edge to it is no longer hard but sharp as it shreds the heart piercing the soul before pulling out again only to ram back in. The only way to extinguish it is bloody and painful and kept quiet in the dark.

Finally the flames of the fire turned dark as it consumed me until it wasn’t a fire at all anymore just a burning hatred that echoes up from my eviscerated soul. A wealth of it pours off of me causing even the most oblivious of people to shy away. A darkness so deep and black that to rip it from me would tear apart what little is left. So entwined in what is me it would pull out my very soul. Still it burns deep inside leaving bladed teeth marks wherever it touches.

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Not Me

I have not been myself lately or rather I have been too much myself lately locked inside my own little world begging for escape. I look around at the people with me who don’t know me at all and slip back into an alternate reality that is more real to me than anything I can touch or hold but is infinitely more twisted that anything thought up on this plane.

In my world if something can think to do it, it has been done in technicolor brilliance that can only be accomplished in the mind. Things so twisted that they can only exist inside someone and they can only feast on the light and love in your soul. And feast they do. I am losing it.

I look at others, listen to them, and realize that no one has it worse or better than me because their mind might be doing it to them too. If I can hide it away from everyone but my readers they can hide it from me. Which sparks the thought, as I look at each person in turn, what horrible things is their mind doing to me as we talk. Are they similar things to what my mind is doing to them. Would they cringe away from me in horror if I told them or would they just smile at me knowingly.

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Is that the same hunger or darkness I see behind their eyes? Is it the same blackness that is behind your eyes? I don’t know why you suddenly shift away only that you do. My mind instantly goes to the questions is the darkness showing, radiating off me like some twisted negative lighthouse.  Or is it the blankness, the utter soulless look that is in my eyes. Does it make you think “she’s checked out?” Do you even notice? No one else does…

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Frustration

I am not sure if everyone is like this or if it is only me but I don’t deal with frustration very well. Allow me to rephrase – I don’t deal with frustration at all, waiting makes me feel as if I am being driven slowly insane by the most diabolical of demons. Most of the tears that I have shed have not been over sadness, joy, or even anger they have been because of frustration.

Like right now my hands twitch with it. It flows through me dancing down my spine and skipping as if it is having fun. It plays with me sending shock waves skipping across my ribs making my heart pound. I have been pacing my cage looking out across the sands watching them build the walls that they think I need. I am aware that my skin doesn’t seem to want to stay on. It slithers and crawls over muscle, bone, and sinew looking for a way to slide off and live on its own.

It pushes aside the darkness which I have become accustom to. Sending it back inside my duplicitous brain. I wonder vaguely if the architects are finished with their twisted spires and rooms that people never come out of. They don’t seem to be building anymore and I wonder if it is safe to go back the the dark pit I call my home. I try the cage door and find it locked. Looking out across the black sand landscape I try to see the one whom I once loved and the one whom I have lost. I wonder if he still lives despite the torture he has endured. There is no way for me to tell.

What I wouldn’t give to have that heart beat against my hand full of life and love. Somehow I think the same slithering things that got me. Parasites that stretch the fabric of reality in their grotesque bodies unnatural for the real world. I wonder vaguely if they will ever break through using my body as a transport device. They skitter along my bones and muscles as if they are restless and waiting to get out. Each day they take more from me and I wonder when they will envelope me causing my personality to die. They have already altered it beyond recognition. I watch the darkness move underneath my skin waiting for me to touch another and infect them so that they can escape the prison I keep them in.

I keep them close to my heart because I have long since started to view them as my darkness but I know they bite, scratch, and claw to infect another. When I touch someone they envelope him corrupting what he feels, who he loves, and any happiness he could bring. It always happens this way, I think this is why I stay away from people. I don’t want to see the my darkness penetrate them like an obscene lover. It fills them up and burrows its way into any cracks so that the person feels the fullness of their presence. Some people cum when they feel it others turn away, still others scream while it pushes too hard against their walls expanding them to the point of a perfect pain. The darkness is good at that. Good at making you feel all those feelings that are considered unnatural, taboo, but oh so good.

Downward Spiral

A unique look at what wanders around in the darkness that is my mind. All of the slithering, slick things that twist and curl their way around important parts, beautiful memories. Corrupting them making them into something as dark and twisted as themselves. Making the pain seem real and the hope nothing but desperation.

The darkness caresses anything that is good and beautiful in my life, wrapping around it like a rapist. Moving against it, sliding, and slipping into the crevices. Its liquid cold pulsing, growing to fit and push against the boundaries of the memory before filling it up and stretching its walls. Soaking it in slippery black before pulling back out again leaving the beauty tainted and dripping with viscous liquid.

On the Edge of a Blade

My eyes slip closed and my head slips back with a soft thump against the concrete wall. I keep my eyes closed knowing all to well what I will see it is what my body feels right now. I want to open my mouth and say something, anything. I begin to make a sound and his large calloused hand clamps over my mouth sealing it. He leans in close to me, his breath warm against my ear and whisper “Don’t make a sound.” As if I could my mind reels the oxygen deprivation quickly becoming apparent. The bulge against my thigh grows a bit bigger as he rubs it against me. I shiver excitement and fear warring in my brain. I am certain that he can feel my heart pound through the thin t-shirt that I have on. The slowly moves off of my mouth and nose giving me a split second to gasp precious oxygen.

While I am still gasping for breath a forearm is slammed into my throat pinning me to the concrete wall behind me. The rough brick pushes painfully into my back and the forearm is crushing my ability to breath. The pressure of it keeps me pinned on the tips of my toes. If I don’t strain to touch the ground my feet would be off the floor and I would hang there in his grip choking. I feel him fumbling with something between us and realize suddenly that he is unbuckling his belt and trousers. His other hand reaches completely up under my skirt. I gasp as his rough fingers brush my over sensitive lips. He tilts his head up to look at me raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“Expecting someone?” He whispers so close to my ear that it is all I can do to not to lean into him. I shake my head my eyes going wide because I went without panties on a dare from a friend. His hand roams across my bare ass and gently caresses the folds of my lips, teasing me. I arch my back trying to get more contact between me and his had, my fear fading as quickly it began. He cupped his hand and slowly curled one finger against the most sensitive part of me. I turn my head away pushing my cheek against the brick at this violation and that my body is responding to it so enthusiastically. His newly freed cock twitches in excitement as it slides against my bare thigh. The silky and smooth skin makes me shudder in what could only be termed anticipation. I lean my head back pushing my body closer to that silken warmth. My eyes flutter closed as his fingers trace lazy circles around my clit making me want to scream, I barely notice a flash of sliver on the edge of my vision.

Random bits of writing

Pulling into a nearby truck stop he looked around with eyes that were not exactly his and not exactly sane. Finding a one at the truck stop wasn’t difficult, since he got back he could feel them. It was almost like it was a part of him. Right now the pull was so strong he barely could conceal his need.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked the blond standing just inside the door. The blond was just passably pretty.

“Sure sugar,” It replied with a smile.

“Wouldn’t you rather have something else?” Jared grinned, this was way too easy.

“What did you have in mind sugar,” she dropped her voice into an almost sexy southern drawl.

Jared grinned a lopsided grin that he knew was irresistible before grabbing her hand and leading her towards the bathrooms at the back of the bar. Too easy, he thought, Way too easy.” She allowed him to lead her undoubtedly thinking of him as her next victim.

They entered the truck stops only bathroom. The smells struck Jared immediately, piss and various other substances he didn’t want to know about assailed him. Without preamble he pushed her up against the wall his hands pushing her skirt up around her waist. He reached for the knife at his back and grinned at her wickedly.

“A bad boy huh?” she smiled at him still not understanding. He slid the knife under her panties slicing them cleanly from her body. He didn’t really want her. He wanted someone he could never have. The blond ground against him as her panties fell to the floor. He shivered thoughts of Morgan shimmering through his mind making him rock hard. He unzipped his jeans with his free hand and hoisted her up against the wall. He entered her quickly, roughly. She just laughed taking his length into her. Jared began to rock against her their bodies making a wet sound along with the thud of her hips against the wall he held her too. He grinned as she rode him squealing at the sensation. His other hand came up the knife still gleaming wickedly. He put it against her throat so it bit into her flesh with each thrust of his body into hers.

“Like it rough?” she asked not realizing that the knife was cutting into her with each movement until she felt the cold length of it pressing into her throat. Jared continued to pound into her his eyes clouding over with bloodlust as he watched the dark red liquid slide down her neck staining her white blouse. He leaned forward to lap at the wound. There was something darkly erotic about sucking the blood from the slit he’d made. The knife dropped and clattered to the floor as he leaned in tasting her, his teeth making marks as he sucked at the wound widening it. The blond began to feel his blunt teeth she tried desperately to move his head away from the wound. He continued to move inside her warmth spreading through his body as he lapped greedily at the blood not caring that he was now tearing into her neck.

His arm came up his hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing as she began to make pained noises. He dug his teeth into her shoulder trying to find purchase on her blood slicked skin. His hand tightened into a punishing grip, the blond gasped and tried to pull away as he pounded into her his teeth finally breaking the skin on her shoulder.

“You!” she whispered through his constricting grip. He leaned back for a moment never losing rhythm as he fucked her.

“Yes, me.” He stated simply pausing for only a moment to watch her terror filled eyes. So nice, the wicked thing that was the voice in his head whispered More, it pleaded and he was all too happy to comply as the power rushed through him. He began to concentrate on his movements as he slammed into her cracking the mirror behind her head. She went limp as he came inside her, the blood coursing through him as he pulled the life from her body. He stopped moving pulling out of her and watched as the light slowly left her eyes.

He dropped her body on the ground tucking himself back into his jeans and buttoning them up. The power coursed through his body. He looked down at the girl before him, a girl he could have saved but for the amount of blood he took from her. She lay bleeding still the breath long since gone, the life gradually leaving her.

Jared sighed softly instantly regretting what he’d done to the girl. He moved over to the sink and stared at himself in the cracked and faded mirror. Blood covered the lower half of his face. He rinsed it off and picked up the knife. Just do it, the dark voice whispered, Do it and you will never have to go through this again. He unfastened the leather band that he wore around his wrist. He growled softly pain lancing through him as he sliced the top of his arm creating a perfect bleeding line deep but not deep enough to need stitching. Thankfully Morgan kept the knives sharp. This cut would join the other striped scars on his wrist some new others long since scarred over. He snapped the leather back over the bleeding wrist and watched it as it turned darker blood seeping from around it. He cleaned himself up checking his shirt for telltale signs of what he’d just done. He picked the girl up and put her into one of the stalls where she wouldn’t be found for a while. He closed his eyes for a moment, “I’m sorry,” he whispered not knowing to whom.

Screaming Infinity, It was Bound to Happen

What is the next rush? When is the next time? When will I feel like this again? I sit and wait for it knowing that the next rush is right around the corner. I am trapped lately though. Stuck on the merry go round that just won’t stop and let me off. The cats chase the horses round and round until the spinning goes to my head and my eyes roll back. I doubt there is someone who can actually make my eyes roll back in my head but it is good to dream and it is the only time that I feel absolute freedom and hope.

I am not sure if I am tired because I am pushing myself or if I push myself because I am tired and hurts so bad that I can’t scream once because I will never stop. The truth is I guess I am just tired. I want to know that the things that I believe in are real but there is no proof. I don’t want to say that I won’t take anything on faith but I know too many people suffering right now. I know to many people screaming for death or screaming for life to take things on simple faith.

I explained the problem with me once before and I don’t think they quite got it. I am not right, there is something about me that screams when I try to be normal. When I don’t scream it drives me mad. “Down the rabbit hole Alice” A large part of me is dying slowly while the rest of me just hasn’t caught up yet. I could love but am no longer sure what that is in some ways I don’t think I ever did. The ones who I loved are all gone now and I am by myself in a house filled with people. If their kind of love is what brought me to this point then I am not sure I want to know what love is.

Ever see what is going to happen before it does?

Remember the blog post on things that cannot be unseen… yeah I live in that dark and sweaty world. It is extremely disconcerting because there is nothing that is comfortable about a juxapostian.