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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Public Stigma and Reasons for Hiding

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.

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Please Excuse My Rant

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.

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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.

Not OK

He said he would love me but was scared of the 1% of the time I was crazy. So he doesnt want me. Why does that bother me? Because I don’t want me. No one does.

Obsecro, mihi facultas videndi Deum angelis et demonibus – da mihi aliter vive – contra – O facultatem ad me, et audite obsecro ut interficias me, et pugnate pro eis vel.

Dieu s’il vous plaît me donner la possibilité de voir vos anges et les démons – me montrer une autre façon de vivre – lutter – s’il vous plaît m’aider et me donner la possibilité de voir et entendre les aider ou s’il vous plaît me tuer.

Gott gib mir bitte die Möglichkeit, Ihren Engel und Teufel zu sehen – zeigen Sie mir eine andere Art zu leben – zu kämpfen – bitte helfen Sie mir und geben mir die Fähigkeit zu hören und ihnen helfen, oder bitte töte mich zu sehen.

Ο Θεός παρακαλώ να μου δώσετε τη δυνατότητα να βλέπουν αγγέλους και διαβόλους σας – δείξτε μου έναν διαφορετικό τρόπο για να ζήσουν – για την καταπολέμηση της – παρακαλώ να με βοηθήσει και να μου δώσει τη δυνατότητα να δει ακούσει και να τους βοηθήσει ή μπορείτε να με σκοτώσει.

الله من فضلك أعطني القدرة على رؤية الملائكة والشياطين الخاص – تبين لي طريقة مختلفة للعيش – لمحاربة – الرجاء مساعدتي وتعطيني القدرة على رؤية نسمع ومساعدتهم أو يرجى قتلي.

يرجى قتلي.

मुझे मार दें.

obsecro ut interficias me.

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What I want

I offer to let you use me in any way that you want – no request is too strange or unusual. I would love for you to do to me what pops into that wonderfully wicked brain of yours.

Ever wonder why… every wonder what I want in return. As it turns out not a whole lot. I just want to tie you down and find out what makes you scream in pleasure… and if I can’t have that pain… but what I truly want is to find where the two meet for you, where they become one inside of you. I want to shatter you into millions of kaleidoscope pieces where the jagged pieces of you slice into my flesh embedding themselves into my flesh so that I can carry a piece of you with me all the time. I want to crack your chest open and crawl inside to curl around your heart, so I can listen to your heart beat from the inside and feel its deadly rhythm beating all around me.

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Ok So I am a bit more fucked up than normal

Rule number 1 Always have an exit strategy

Rule number 2 When you start to make your self think that you are crazy you probably are

Rule number 3 When you can no longer cope use the exit strategy

When pain outweighs the ability to cope then it is time not stop struggling to cope

When you want to scream scream. when you want to cry cry you know where this is heading I really am not sure that I am going to survive this.