Yet Another Holiday – Happy Ishtar Everyone… or is it Easter – No I don’t mean the bad movie

No I didn’t spell that wrong. It is pronounced Easter and is the name of a guess what… Pagan Goddess. Now I thought valentines day was bad with the strange origins but Ishtar is the goddess of love and war in some cultures and just love or just war in others. I always thought love and war were the same thing which is why I probably never married.

So we have the goddess of love and war whose symbols are rabbits and eggs – fertility yeah. Let me just jump up and celebrate fertility. Sorry not quite my thing. Sex yes whelping no…

sacred_egg_of_heliopolis_and_typhon_s_egg

What I want

I make it no secret that I will eventually die either by a situation I have put myself in or by my own hand. I do not want anyone to misunderstand this fact. It is not that I dislike life (I do but that is besides the point) its that I dislike living it.

It is not fair that people who want to live die and people who want to die live. Another one of god’s strange ironies I guess like the platypus or opossum. I don’t expect anyone to read the crazed rantings of what rattles around in that empty head of mine. Maybe someone will discover this and realize that it is ok. Its ok to feel like this and not hate yourself for it. Heck if you feel like this you already have enough reason to hate yourself you don’t need any more.

People may ask why I haven’t done it yet. I have often pondered that question when I slide a razor slowly across my skin wishing it were a lovers caress. Watching the red blood tickle its way down my arm trying to tantalize me into making the deeper, feeling more blood sliding down with a soft plink on the tile floor. I listen carefully enraptured by the feeling and the sound of blood slowly draining from my body. The blood caresses my flesh making me shiver and my eyes roll back just for a moment. God it would feel wonderful and decadent. But there are not that many people left in my world and the darkness is closing in.

I wish I could lose myself in the feeling. Let it be the only thing I feel, close off all my other senses to the blade, the blood, and the feel of it. I can feel your warm body beside me, behind me pushing me back against your bare chest. My head lulls against your shoulder surrendering myself to the sensation of the cold metal and your warmth. I can feel each cut, each time the blade slips inside my skin, the ultimate penetration. Not enough to kill be enough to feel it when we fuck later. The sex after is always desperate and frantic (at least for me) I am not sure if I am proving that I am alive or wanting you to plunge the knife deeper so that you can revel in the feel of my life, my blood pour out onto your flesh. Please

Daylight and Mourning

I watch the horizon carefully waiting for what I dread is coming. I can almost see the crystalline shine on the glimmering black sand. Just as when the green and blue moons recede pulling their lovely soft colour from the shimmering sand I know what is coming. The twin moons give way to twin suns blazing against the darkness in all of their red hot glory. They make the sand shimmer and dance or maybe that is just a trick of the heat. I watch as the light begins to creep across the sand making the shadows scream and dance away wishing I could do the same. The same light that makes the sands shine blue, purple, and oil slick black makes burns white hot despite their copper burning green and branding iron white colours. I glance over to the the X the architects work desperately to hide from view. The cross rises shining black above the sand. It gleams as the sunlight creeps closer to it. For a moment I watch and wonder if I will see charred remains as the light grows. I glance quickly away as my eyes fall on the gleaming misshapen white skulls of those who have gone before me. Some with horns and some horribly disfigured in unimaginable ways.

There are some things that I just don’t want to know. My eyes focus on the cross for a moment longer trying to discern whether or not he still hangs from the cross before the blinding sun forces me to retreat further into my prison. I can already hear the living bars expanding behind me, their molded black leaves creeping out to shield me from the suns’ horrific rays. I know that they will grow, flower, and fall before the twin suns set leaving me with stark thorned branches once again.

I begin to lower my eyes but not before I hear it a soft whimper carried on the hot wind and wonder if it is only my imagination.

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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

Would I feel lonely if the voices in my head stopped talking to me?

No for those who wonder I do not hear voices… well sometimes I do but I don’t believe what they tell me… ok so sometimes I believe them but never act on them… oh hell I do often act on them because most of the time they are right.

I often wonder at what point I stopped caring what others thought of me and at what point I stopped caring about what I thought of myself. It was probably the point when I realized that I am the person you don’t want to meet in a dark alley mostly because I am in that dark alley for purposes that might offend most people’s delicate sensibilities. I am the person who makes the statement “Good friends help you move, best friends help you move the bodies,” and means it.

My value lies in the pleasure I give others and only in that. I am the one who when you ask what my name is I look at you and say “what would you like it to be.”

The value I get from writing all of this down is that maybe one person will read it and think to themselves I am not alone. There is at least one other person who understands this. Yes this blog is not cheery, inspiring, or of any extrinsic value but somewhere along the line it might help someone feel. It doesn’t matter which feeling it inspires in some it will bring the creeping sense of hot breath on the back of your neck the second you realize something is standing right behind you in that second before you turn on the light.

In some it will bring the sense of belonging that only cold brick can bring as you are pushed up against the wall and fucked in an alley behind that bar that you frequent.

In some it will bring the desire to push against those little things that are commonly called limits and bend them until they break.

And in some it will simply bring understanding that pleasure and pain can exist simultaneously in a mind shattering way.

 

barbed

Things That Most Definitely Suck.

Ok. Tonight I have the perfect chance to do what I want, to play how I want and quite possibly to get the dual sided affection I crave. Am I going to do it. No. Despite my desperation and absolute desire and longing I am not. All it would take is standing up getting into the shower and finding my keys (it has been a while since I have driving my truck oh fuck it there’s a spare) say screw my responsibility for ecstasy for just one night. No sex no obligation just pure unadulterated energy and something I have always wanted. I am almost tempted to stand and get dressed and go and then reality comes crashing down on me. I have lost too many friends speaking the truth what would happen if they knew how real the truth was for me. What if they knew what I am and what I want. I think they would run and I wouldn’t be able to stop screaming from the gaping hole that is just waiting to be reopened. Imagei

 

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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

Punctuation Kills!!

Take this phrase, I often used it with my students when I was a teacher.

“Let’s eat, Grandma” and

“Let’s eat Grandma” Two totally different meanings and a tiny thing like a comma makes so much of a difference. If you don’t get how, that is ok you probably need to go back to elementary school for other things as well… oh and YES I know I am an elitist snob but there is so much to make fun of about people sometimes I just can’t help myself. I would never do this to someone who honestly didn’t know or had no reason to learn it. But if you were in almost any westernized nation you would have heard something similar to this.

The Monster Inside Me

The monster inside me growls twisting its body right behind my eyes. I can feel it slither turning circles. Its body sliding sharp scales against my brain leaving lacerations that not even I can understand the implications of. I hear its rumbling breath, the gravelly whoosh that a large reptile at rest makes. It is much better when it is sleeping. I don’t have to feel it move restlessly like it is now. It wants something although it will not tell me what and I can’t fathom what it could possibly be. Sometimes it talks in low growling voice sounding much like the rumble of an earthquake sending vibrations through me. At times these vibrations are pleasant and at others horrific. At times it makes my entire body quake with the force of it. It echoes in my head painfully when it wants something as it is doing tonight.

If it would just tell me what it needs at this point I would gladly give it over without hesitation just to make it quiet again. The bladed tail swishes back and forth drowning the other voices, the quieter voices. The ones that tell me in their strange double way of speaking what I should do. These are the voices that make want to slice into my skin to let them out. There used to be only one crying in the distance but now there is a cacophony of speech sometimes drowned out by the dragon curled behind my eyelids. I can almost see him when I close my eyes. He is getting stronger and the rational voices are getting weaker. His frightening visage scares others when he peeks through my eyes. Others see something in me that scares them when he looks directly at them.

morningstar

Ut alii do vita et sanabitur anima mea. Omnibus Angelis sanctis, et daemones praeesse dolor sit moriar et alius potest salvari. In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.

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…