Posted on by Killingdanse · 6 Comments

Can anyone out there answer a question for me?

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.

lonely death

Posted on by Killingdanse · 3 Comments

Anywhere but here

I am wondering if this is a precursor to the end. No one cares – I am pretty much done with my pathetic little life. I wonder daily where I can go where “young woman raped and murdered,” would be the most likely news headline. Granted I hope it would say young author raped and murdered but I don’t think I can write anymore. I used to be able to I used to publish my work. It all works towards the fact that I am way too screwed up to be alive. I tried I really did. I can’t do it. Out of memory out of words out of time. I tried, I really did. They didn’t care… if they only would understand.

I am doing the best that I can.  It is never good enough. Nothing is. I will always end up like this with something in my head screaming that it is time to get out. What honestly does it take to get someone to come and kill you. There are enough murderers out there. Why can’t one of them find me and just take me out. I don’t mind if you want to kill do so if you want to torture and maim do it…. just let me go.

Posted on by Killingdanse

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.

eye

Posted on by Killingdanse

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

 

 

Posted on by Killingdanse · 2 Comments

Why do you do this to me?

The cold stings my knuckles as I quietly tap on the door knowing that you will hear it. I admonish myself yet again for not using my palm, knowing the bone on would tapping wood only cause pain. Footsteps echo in my head as I hear you approach the door and turn the handle. You know it is me, you knew I was coming the polite call that I placed first is always a warning.

I often wonder how you deal with the thoughts that float through the air between us. I can’t read you like I read everyone else and this is a good thing because despite the reason I am here I really don’t want to know. The door opens in a rush of warmth, you must have the heat on or maybe it is just my body reacting to the cat like grace you use to step aside to let me in. I move forward slowly, cautiously, still afraid you will spook like the wild thing that you are. Walking past you making sure that no part of you touches me because the tiniest touch will have me undone. Sitting down on the worn sofa my hand automatically reaches out to pet the feline that stretches lazily on the armrest. Touching the feline is almost as natural a gesture as it was to touch you. Soon the others are there curling around my legs asking quietly for the attention that they know instinctively that I will give them because they are as much a part of you as anything else in the room.

I watch you for a moment as you move through the house only glancing up to meet your soft brown eyes with their almost girlish lashes for a moment as you set the usual choice of beverage down next to me. Not a word is spoken, even though your voice would send a shockwave up my spine. You move to the chair that normally sits near your desk. Your eyes flitting over what covers the wall before resting on me for a brief moment and then on the television that plays an inane drama that neither of us is interested in. After a moment of indecision you move closer to me making me wonder if you know how dangerous you are to me. How addictive you are.

I am almost sure that you do. You use it well to control me without making it seem like that is what you are doing. I watch you out of the corner of my eye, my hand still moving restlessly over the cat soft fur sliding through my fingers. You speak softly telling me about the things that you do and those that you wish that you were doing. I listen more to the timber of your voice than the actual words. One of these days you will catch me listening to you rather than what you are saying, trying to understand why the voices quiet and the glass doesn’t seem as sharp when I am this close to you. I am tempted to reach out and touch you but am afraid that you will dissolve into darknesscheshire

Posted on by Killingdanse · 2 Comments

Jagged

And now they can never get the timing just right. When they join together it forms a grotesque shape, all edges too sharp and dips and valleys too soft. There no sound other that a quiet gasping, because someone has always run out of air. They are so twisted and broken that they can’t even look each other in the eyes, and yet they can’t let go (don’t want to).

So every night they twist a little farther into each other. They break their souls so that the jagged pieces cut each other, the metaphor becoming so real sometimes that they will wake up with their bodies still tangled together, now slick with blood, and their mouths tasting like copper. And it’s fucking perfect.

undead but still alive

andrea-miltnerova-fractured

Posted on by Killingdanse

Perfection in Madness

Have you ever seen something so horrible that at first your mind refuses to recognize that what you are staring at used to be human. A live and breathing thing with laughter, love, and hope. Your mind hesitates but it is there to work out what it is, even then you realize that you probably don’t want to make sense of it. It takes a minute for your mind to adjust and believe what it is being shown through your eyes. Things start to look like they make sense but are in the wrong places, mangled. There is a fleeting moment when you realize that somethings are just not to be seen and recognized. This is when you realize that you cannot unsee the image. It imprints itself into your head waiting for you to close your eyes.

There is no way to cleanse that memory from your brain. Some things are just not meant to be seen.

Posted on by Killingdanse

Ah lets see christmas

Yeah, good will toward men, piece on earth, blah, blah, blah. The accepted opinion of thousands like so many others seems to just give rise to overspending and over indulgence. While this is the happiest time of year for many thousands commit suicide each year on December 24th and 25th. Why would someone do such a thing on such a happy celebrated holiday.

Loneliness
Despair
Hopelessness

And about a hundred other reasons that would take much too long to post. I wonder how many people watch the world around them and shake their heads no longer wanting to be a part of it, particularly at this time of year. Holidays are when most families fight, most abuse and divorce happen right after the holidays, and many families go without a Christmas at all.

I have a challenge that I have made public on many occasions. Since this is a time of religion and a christian religious holiday I thought that I would make it public or at least public to those who read this. If there are angels out there think about what they would be. One hand raised to heaven and one wing dipped in blood. Angels were gods vengeance for the most part. If they exist on earth why do they not show themselves who beg for them.

Demons for demons on the other hand I offer the same challenge. If they exist on earth then why not show themselves. We have both who wish this public appearance from both camps. Some say the already have. I have asked many times to be shown what is behind the veil. Not for proof but just to see what history, mythology, and religion have gotten right and wrong.

Well suicides go to hell so I am fairly certain I will meet one soon enough. I just wish it were under better circumstances 🙂

The picture is Luis Royo from his fantasy art collection. For some reason I can’t stop staring at them and wondering what it would be like to see one of them.

Angel holding Demon
Angel holding Demon