Some of these are things I’ve said and others come from other people but they all basically fit me.
“I am a relatively simple person in a complex set of circumstances.”
“You are so pretty when you are broken”
“I was once asked if I was homicidal and the honest answer was no death is not nearly as pretty as suffering.”
” It feels like sex. It feels like really good, sweaty, animal, oh-good-god-do-that-again sex.”
“An unhappy, smaller-than-should-be-possible ball of Sam.”
“Here we are negotiating like proper psychopaths”
“You think the worst thing is to end up all alone. It’s not, it is ending up with people who make you feel all alone” (robin williams)
And now for those of you who like pretty pictures:
This is a quoted conversation from my ex who I am going to actually have to evict – I am WAY too nice.
It is important to note that I never once cried over this break up. I never once felt sorry that I no longer wanted a life with him. Most of all I was as nice as possible, let him live in my home, and tried to be his friend. He moved out for a long while lived with two other people and a condition of letting him come back and stay for a while so he wouldn’t be homeless was that he get a job (he hasn’t for 5 or 6 years now) and he leave when I asked him among other things.
I don’t own Lucifer nor would I really ever want to… Angel, Morning Star, Prince of Darkness and all.
Lucifer sat staring out over the windswept rock. It was a time of peace for him even after he’d fallen. Breaking dawn had always been his favorite time of day and the rocky Irish coast his favorite place to be. There was something about the spectacular beautiful display of dawn over the staggering gray of the cliffs and the deadly swirling darkness below. This day he arrived here just before dawn a heavy mist clung to the rocky cliff hiding the sharp rocks and swirling water below. He waited peacefully for the dawn chorus to begin. As the first hint of sun hit the horizon he took a breath and began to sing.
“While the moon her watch is keeping,
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping
All through the night
O’er thy spirit gently stealing
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling
All through the night “
He smiled adopting an Irish lilt to his voice as he sang watching the gray start to seep from the sky.
“Though I roam a minstrel lonely
All through the night
My true harp shall praise sing only
All through the night
Love’s young dream, alas, is over
Yet my strains of love shall hover
Near the presence of my lover
All through the night”
He closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of the soft breeze and sweet sound of the ocean below, rocking gently in an unheard rhythm.
The girl stared at him. He was the most stunning thing she’d ever seen. Soft black hair hung down just past his shoulders and was tied back with a black ribbon. He seemed to move with the song he sang his voice sending chills through her with its soft beauty. She watched his back expand as his chest rose when he began the next verse. Muscles rippled even through the linen shirt he wore.
“Hark, a solemn bell is ringing
Clear through the night
Thou, my love, art heavenward winging
Home through the night
Earthly dust from off thee shaken
Soul immortal shalt thou awaken
With thy last dim journey taken
Home through the night”
She hadn’t realized that she’d moved forward as he sang until she realized she was standing at the edge of the cliff beside where he was sitting. She reached out to touch his cheek to brush away the tear she saw there. Her hand hovered beside his face the strands of black hair that had escaped its tie sliding over it.
“You’re song is beautiful don’t stop singing,” she said quietly as he ended the last note. A soft peaceful smile played against his face.
“There is no more to sing,” She couldn’t help but think that his speaking voice shined as much as his singing voice. Her heart broke at its sound. His eyes still closed he turned toward her voice as she spoke. She wondered if his eyes were as beautiful as the rest of him. She was inexplicably drawn to him. She closed her eyes for a moment attempting to remember how she got there. Why she left her warm home before dawn because of the sound of his voice? She shook her head confused for a moment. He reached out and ran his thumb along her delicate cheek sighing softly as he did. A soft frown flickered over his features as he did the unthinkable. He opened his eyes and she screamed stumbling backward her foot catching on the edge of the cliff.
Lucifer drew in a breath as the catalog of her sins flooded his mind. She was ruined by the shepherd’s kisses and chose to lay with him before she’d been married. She’d done this willingly and over again. A sad smile crossed his lips as he watched the beautiful young girl fall still staring into the endless obsidian pool of his eyes. Only when she disappeared into the mist and the violent waves and rocks below did he close them. For a moment he’d forgotten it had been so long since he sang. He’d forgotten that only sinners could hear him sing and only sinners and demons would be drawn to the sound of his voice.
Tears slipped down his cheeks he’d only wanted a moment’s peace before the fight started. He’d only wanted to relax for just a moment after years in the cage. He sighed again stretching out his black wings. The shining feathers damp with the mist glittered. Strong muscles flexed as he prepared to take flight. The darkness of his position settled around him like a cloak as he took wing
I speak often of the depression I suffer from. Sometimes it is in graphically descriptive terms as many of my posts are and other times it is plainly as this post is shaping up to be. I recently went very public to friends and family with the problems I experience with depression.
That was a very large mistake. Instead of being able to be more open I have had to hide more. I cannot use phrases like help, sick, hospital, or state that I am not feeling well without a paranoid lets call in the nice young men in little white coats reaction. Frankly I am considering moving, changing my name, severing the support system I thought was in place (turns on those I relied on were worse than those that I ran from), and going somewhere so big no one will know me or care as I slowly degrade and bring myself back up again. This is because I am the only one who can, help would be nice, someone to talk to would be nice but not worth the fallout of being honest with people close to you.
When I began this I talked about when to call an ambulance and when not to. Unfortunately no one seemed to listen lol. Let me rephrase what I said at the beginning, unless I am bleeding out don’t call the ambulance. Calling can, will, and did ruin my life.
This is an open invitation to anyone who wishes to respond. Anyone floating aimlessly about the internet please take a look and give me your best guess. I implore you to help me figure this out. I don’t condemn it I just want to understand it. Ok now for the question.
Why is it that certain guys are fascinated by putting their hands in your mouth when they are fucking you from behind? I have had and have seen this in quite of places. They use your mouth like leverage pulling you back on to them. One it hurts, two I find it repulsive *note the I* This is not to say there is anything wrong with it. Some women I know find it quite enjoyable. The problem is not that I condemn it (if you’ve read anything besides this particular post you know I have stranger kinks that that) but I don’t understand it.
Is it some form of control, humiliation, or other psychological need? Or is it that it happens accidentally. I know when I am cumming I can’t be sure where my feet are much less what I am clutching in my hand. I cum particularly hard most of the time, again not a bad thing.
ok I know I said one question but my mind tends to meander when I am writing and it meandered into a darker more volatile corner of my brain. Despite popular belief cum actually does not taste bad particularly if you pay attention to your “special friend’s” diet. Yes diet can change the taste guys stay away from the dairy if you want your beneficial friend to swallow your cum.
This brings me to the question: Why on earth would you cum on a girls face rather than inside her mouth particularly if she swallows? I know the aesthetics to it. It is a strange form of art the way each arc makes a different pattern on a man or woman’s body. Definitely fascinating once in a while but not all the time. It is not particularly pleasant to wash cum out of my hair, my ears (don’t ask), my eyes, and inside my nose (again don’t ask how it happened because I will never tell a soul about ears and noses) Besides doesn’t cumming inside feel better rather than taking matters into your own hands (yeah yeah bad pun).
Ok one more question and I promise I will stop.
Am I missing something when I assume that guys know that pornography is on video with actors and actresses? It is not real. Well the sex is real but the acting isn’t. Actually some of the sex is real while others are more acting than fucking. The positions that they occasionally put both guys and girls in to fuck are all but physically impossible to maintain for any length of time. They don’t work, hurt like hell, and girls usually don’t appreciate being put in it. I am not talking about BDSM just vanilla sex. I am also not going to bring up the number of people who are just bad at it because it could get me into trouble.
I see this in more women then men but there is more porn featuring women than me. part of the reason why there are a lot of fucking scenes is because most people (not all) who are in videos can’t act. Don’t get me wrong I have seen really good acting in porn and really bad acting in porn but nothing in between.
Please take the time to answer these I really don’t understand them.
On a more sober note my Stepfather and the only father I ever knew died last week. He was at home with my mother and I and he was 86 years old. He was on hospice for an extended period of time…. again a topic for another post everything is way too raw right now. I am tired and sad, and happy all rolled up into one confused package.
I am redlining this for a reason. To all of my friends and family that may or may not be reading if you don’t like really strange and you don’t want to know things about me that are otherwise kept quiet. Come to think of it they should be kept quiet but I am going to put them here anyway. For anyone who reads this I have a question – is this too strange. Also I am on pretty much on a large amount of drugs that are supposed to make me sleep… Its quarter to four am here. Lot of good the sleep medication. All it did is make me thing about this and of course after the thought the crazy leaks out onto the page – well in this case the website.
Ok time for random strangeness.
I am a sexual creature by nature. I enjoy a vast variety of ways to play. Truth is despite my good catholic upbringing I love sex. Not just orgasm or the act itself but the sheer pleasure of being that close to someone. I will get there in a bit. First because this is rather odd – I enjoy watching gay men have sex specifically cumming and cumming hard. I don’t enjoy actually watching it. The part that I enjoy is hearing it. I am really not sure why. But it turns me on to no end which in the situation I am in is a very very bad thing. Not really bad just no viable release. Remember earlier when I said I love sex I meant to say I love sex with another person or a bunch of people. I love the type of sex where you have to count the feet and divide by two to see how many are participating. So I remain on edge and more than a little horny.
There is a bond that forms during sex. It isn’t permanent and may or may not exist after the act is completed. If that bond is there then good for you. If not move on, one night stands are not necessarily a bad thing and I have found myself saying goodbye right afterwards because I don’t want to see them in the morning… is this bad of me. Of course not I am a healthy adult with healthy desires or at least I hope they are.
As for me. I am searching for the one person who is willing to open their chest up for me and let me crawl in so that I never doubt that I am treasured. Not just loved but treasured. I want to lean up against his heart and feel it beating against my back while I count his ribs or the spots on his lungs to pass the time. I want to feel every bit of air stolen from me so that he can breath. I want to trace the lines of blood and bone with my fingers dipping it to it and hearing him gasp. I would be content in my cage made from flesh, bone, and muscle. Waiting. I want to be next to his heart so that I can run my hand along its ruby surface. Memorizing it.
I am extremely disappointed in a variety of things lately. It amazes me that things like depression, suicide, and agoraphobia are still miss understood. Recently I was dragged from my home, handcuffed (not the good kind of handcuffed) and thrown into a mental facility. All for saying something that I was actually feeling. It seems I am too fucked up to talk to someone professional about what I go through every day.
I spent 48 hours staring at puke brown walls and listening to other people’s problems. Basically I was the therapist and a patient. Considering the staffing and the fear of expressing actual feelings to them overrides the ability to get help. Once you are in everything that you say can and will be used against you to make you stay in a horrid situation longer. All of this from simply seeking help for an overwhelming situation. If my life was not bad enough before this it is horrid now. Everyone I care about now looks at me as if I am crazy which admittedly I am but most of the time I am functionally crazy.
I like things that most people don’t, I mix pleasure and pain readily. I enjoy strange things and have a really hard time controlling basic impulses. I love it all there are very few things that I won’t try. My life was screwed before and all this did was ruin my relationships with my friends and family. I know I am not making sense but remember when I said there are times to call the ambulance and there are times not to. Well calling the police and being taken to a hospital in handcuffs is enough to destroy your life.
Although writing is nothing new to me I only indulge in playing with fiction once in a while. Please please tell me what you think about the beginning I would really like a critique.
I wanted to say that it would be ok and that you were going to be just fine as I had so many times before. You looked so scared, sad, and alone. I wanted reach up and brush the hair out of your eyes. I knew it would only slip back down again but at least I could feel the silken strands between my fingers and I always loved that feeling.
I wanted to say that there was nothing to fear that it was safe, that you would be safe but looking in to those beautiful blue pools, whose black centers almost took over. They were wide and one could dive into one of those pools and wind up sinking into the inky darkness that was your pupil. The cerulean iris, just a ring around obsidian, you were scared.
I wanted to say not for me, never be scared for me, but I was too busy drowning to speak. Your strong arms grip me loosely as if I am made of thinly blown glass that would shatter in your hands.
I wanted to say don’t worry about breaking me, I was already shattered into a thousand pieces before heaven and hell and certainly before now. Something broken, something that cannot be put back together, no matter how much you try.
I wanted to say that I was still here, despite the fact that my arms fell limply to the side like broken tree limbs. Only your arm around me was keeping me from lying in the ever spread red pool underneath me. I vaguely wondered what it was my brain to tired to realize what it actually was.
I wanted to say I would be warm as long as you kept holding me. I would never get cold with you wrapped around me one arm around my back holding me up and the other cradled behind my head. You were desperately trying to evaluate the damage and still hold me close.
I wanted to say that I appreciated that just like I appreciate all that you do for me. I wanted to shake my head at that moment as my heart that normally beats only for you was no longer beating in time with yours. God how I wanted to close my eyes and turn my head if only to escape the pain in your eyes.
I wanted to say that none of this was your fault despite the fact that I knew you blamed yourself for it and would for a very long time. I wanted to hold you as close as you were holding me. Your tears sliding track across your dirt streaked face only to slide down mine as you rested your forehead against my forehead like we did when we were kids. To anyone outside it may have looked like we were both crying but for some reason I wasn’t.
I wanted to say I loved you
I wanted to say run as the thing that brought this all on crept up behind you. I wanted to scream it as it lowered its deadly horn and casually lined it up with your heart. I wanted to push you out of the way I wanted to do anything to stop this but…