What Happens?

What happens when this body no longer draws breath, when the gentle rise and fall signifying life slips away.

What happens when it succumbs to the slow dark decay that began all those years ago,

Will it rise from the dead becoming an even more unnatural abomination than it already is,

Or will it remain inert, interred in the cold dark earth to have even the most tender places pulled apart and eaten only to become part of the earth again.

What happens when this heart no longer beats, will it be as cold in the grave as it is inside this body.

What happens when lungs and heart fill with earth as the dying breath is not one taken in a hospital or a home but already in a grave. No coffin just a shallow hole as dark and beautiful as the one I am encased in while I live maybe even more so. Will I hear the shovel tamp the earth down so that it is smooth and perfect once again.

Will its vibrations echo through my body as it struggles against me with its horrible, predictable, immutable will to live. What will the soil taste like,

Or

Will you kill me first in the most loving way. Wrap your body around mine and slowly overpower that will to live. You’re strong enough and I am weak enough or maybe it is that I am strong enough and you are weak enough…

Not mine

 

 

One Free Murder

Not that any of them really are but this particular one is not for the kiddies. If you are under 18 please find something more suited towards your needs to read. Parental discretion definitely advised. If your child is reading this unattended by a parent then I cannot be held responsible. You should watch what your children read online. 

I really think that everyone should be allowed one free murder in their lifetime. Just one where they will not take you to jail or put you on trial for it. Just one per person. This brings to light all sorts of things like who would you take. Would you wait until you had good reason or do it for pleasure. Would it be someone you hate or someone you love? 

Would people set up match making services like the dating sites that are so popular? Matching those who want to kill and ones who want to be dead. Could you trade murders so if you are the one wanting to be killed can your killer have yours and therefore have two.

Could you auction that murder that you have? Sell it to the highest bidder so that they have more. Would you?

Would you take your lover? Wrapping him in silken warmth clamping around his cock. Rocking, fucking him harder and faster until he is just about to cum and then tighten your hands around his neck until he is coming and dying at the same time watching his life slip from him even as his cum splashes inside you. Would you let him do it to you?

Or would you do it with a blade. Blind folded with his wrists restrained and teased with the cold metal making small cuts as you stroke him with your hand, sliding your mouth around the tip as tiny trickle of blood seeps from the cut just above his hip, the spot that you love the most. Sliding your tongue around the head of his cock until you know pleasure and pain have become one only to take all of him into your mouth and down your throat all at once. Would you run your hands through the cuts tracing them carefully listening to all of the lovely sounds he makes. The sharp intake of breath when you touch a tender place or the soft cries torn from him as his cock reaches your throat again, pushing past it and groaning when he feels your throat tighten around the head. Would you slip the knife into his heart then? Or maybe just a tiny cut to the femoral artery, not noticeable until he gets light headed and your mouth and hands are slick with the warmth of his blood.

What would it be like to that warmth surround you the coppery taste mixing with the bitter sweet taste of his cum?

Would you do this to her? Only instead push your cock down her throat until she can’t breath. Feel it clench and try to swallow as she is slowly suffocated her struggles making your pleasure sweeter.  Would you watch her eyes go wide when she realizes that you are exercising your right to one free killing on her. Would it make you cringe or hard?

Would you do it fast or slowly taking time to prolong the pleasure because you only get just one unless it is a trade? Would you collect them like baseball cards hoarding them until the time is perfect.

It could be your worst enemy or you could take your frustrations out on your boss, ex, father, teacher, mother, that girl in the 10 items or less line with a pack of kids and a cart full of groceries.

Would it be quiet or loud? Would you want to enjoy each moment reveling in the sensations of power and control?

Killperson

A Day of Unknown Origin

Since everyone I know seems to be locked into a progression of holidays it seems only appropriate that I point out the worst fact of all about this particular holiday. There are several and most do not fit with the annoyingly happy gift giving sappy cherub loving crap. The pagans and you have to love the pagans for this picked a day in the middle of February to celebrate fertility. The Romans not wanting to be out done had a woman lottery where they would essentially raffle off young women to spend a year with the participating men – most of the time this year ended in marriage (gee wonder why that is) This lottery took place only after proper sacrifices of goats, dogs, and other livestock and whipping the women with the skins…. yeah romantic.

This brings us to the Catholics, the Roman’s who sacrificed not one but several people named Valentine or Valentinus and the Catholics were set on making them martyrs. Nothing like celebrating death with love. Perhaps they did this just because it has always been frowned upon to celebrate love with death.

When asked my simple response is that I don’t celebrate holidays. Not due to religion I am Catholic which is not only a church of contradictions, riches, and holidays.

There are however a few things that they symbols of valentine’s day make me think of.

Cupid – cherubim servants of god who held the fiery sword barring the doors to Eden. Light bringer was a cherubim. He is also known by quite a few other names such as morning star and if you don’t know who that is study your lore.

Hearts – Now there’s a better image. Hearts bring to mind blood, pounds, skipping a beat, and how you could slip a small knife through the muscle between the ribs because it is only two inches to touch someone’s heart. Although this is probably not the type of touch the valentine’s day card writers mean. How slick blood is and how it changes colour as it leaves the body going from crimson to dull red.

Harlequin – Don’t ask why there is this association. For some reason valentine’s day always brings up the image of the character Harley Quin.

Aphrodisiac poisoned cupcakes and chocolates. It would be interesting to do and even more interesting to read the headlines in the newspaper or watch reporters try and describe the tragedy of hundreds literally fucking themselves to death. Oh come on you can’t say that you haven’t thought of it. If they poison Halloween candy why not…

I don't know the artist but love the picture.
I don’t know the artist but love the picture.

It just reminds me of valentine’s day.

Inviting the Darkness In

People say that you should not take LSD or hallucinogens because they bring up all of the dark and nasty thoughts that are in your subconscious. When I was younger I tried LSD several times and liked it. I am a dark

 sort of person and therefore write and read dark sort of things. I like poking at the thing that resides in the blackest portion of everyone’s

brain and seeing what comes out. It’s fun. If you don’t want to know what is lurking in at least one person’s mind don’t read what I write. There is a dark corner in all of us I just dragged mine into the light introduced myself and asked it if it wanted me to get to know it a little bit more over say afternoon tea. That was a long time ago and now that dark corner and I are very good fr

iends. Some people run from darkness others embrace it and I was never one for running

.

 

monsterwedit

 

I have to mention one annoying thing

Ok… so there is more than one annoying thing in this world but this just happens to be the latest. The quote that I use “And I find it kind of funny I find it kind of sad The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had” IS NOT FROM DONNY DARKO… not that I object to that movie it is not why I like that quote. The quote existed long before the movie and I use it because it is from a scene in a television show that sparked emotion in me. It made a kind of sense in a way that made me remember it. It being used for the movie Donny Darko makes no sense at all considering the movie and the song. Now that I am not sure if that makes much sense I am going to stop ranting about it now…

On Suicide Cutting and Other Things That Make People Cringe

I have often said that suicide is the point where a persons pain outweighs their ability to cope. Some of us cut ourselves for that endorphin rush that follows. The physical pain outweighs the emotional for just a while. It soothes what is wrong with us. Those of use who cut know why we do it. Those that don’t will never understand the brief respite that it brings.

As all of you have probably guessed I include pictures with many of my posts. These are pictures that affected me in one way or another. They meant something to me. I have been looking for one in particular. It seems that no one has been able to capture the haunted hunted look that I see in my eyes when I look in the mirror. Perhaps that is why I stay away from mirrors.

People see the scars and ask. I tell them that yes I did it to myself, yes I had a reason, and yes I wear the scars proudly. They are a sign that I am still alive, still me, and still breathing for the moment.

I have been asked why I don’t raise my voice and why I don’t scream. I don’t scream because I am afraid I might never stop.

An empty room with an empty girl sits silently on the floor she stares at the exposed skin and drags the blade and presses in the comfort that this action brings are worth the scars that will not have the chance to heal soon she will know what it is like not to feel.

let it be