Don't...

However far I try to pull myself away from her, no...the farther I pull myself away from her, the more chaos I run into. It's always at the point when I'm just starting to get over her (as if), just moving on with my life, just making things happen for myself and someone ruins my buzz and reminds me of her...and gives me this tiny window of hope that I could touch her somehow. Not touch her as in physically...no I'm far too romantic, far too scared for that right now. I was offered her phone number, and I want to hear her. I don't remember her enough, yet I know I'd recognize her voice anywhere...I have never heard anyone who sounds remotely like her. She has wanted me before, she has even cared about me before...so why won't she come back for me? Now I suppose she has a baby on the way, but why never before? Why wasn't I good enough? My best friend thinks I'm too good...but it sure as hell never feels that way...when you fall in love with someone...a rapist no less...and they won't take you when you hit rock bottom and strip your pride and make yourself a sacrificial offering. Is this disgusting you, dear reader? I don't blame you...it disgusts me too, because of its lame...emotional nature more than its "you poor dear you have no self-worth" aspects.

Somebody told me women can't rape today. It later became a "no that's not actually what I said, yadda blah" and she wouldn't listen to anything else I said, then tried to act like she was being the reasonable one and I was just attacking her. I'm sorry but what she said sounded pretty much like an attack to me whether she meant it or not...I think the thing that riles me more than anything in the world (this isn't an exaggeration) is people failing to realize that I'm not wrong...that I'm legitimate in my feelings and that they can't just decide I did something when I didn't and bitch me out...without due process of law...ugh.

Lame poem

Our world is burning.

The only light we have inside

is the light of destruction of our fantasies,

the only reality I ever want to know again.

The only world in which I could be sexy

and you could be pure.

The only world in which the both of us were three-dimensional

and wanted,

but you won't come to the window now

to see it.

 

Stop-

the spinning flames can only shred us once,

can only hurt you, save me, once

and then it shall not be over.

The world I feared, the worst you loved

will never see the light of day-and yet-

it's troubling to wonder,

when death becomes a fairy-tale

what happens to the not-lovers

who used it to survive?

 

Look here, look here my darling.

Inhale, inhale my love.

This lonely oxygen may well be our last-

and I'll never again write love, poorly concealed rape,

in angsty poeticism.

 

Our world is ash my love,

dust.

I hustle through and wonder,

how still can I affect you, to save a child's life?

How then do you continue to break my heart

with every moment

your presence does not fill?

Energy drinks, videos, and

It's 3:40 a.m. The girl I'm talking to is reminding me how life can be infinitely more horrible than mine. She has gone through so much, so many rapes, so much betrayal, and is raising three kids on her own and she's not even eighteen yet. Every time I hear that sort of thing, I feel terrible whining about the way my thoughts are wandering back to my not-even-quite-well-maybe-but-god-only-knows rapist, how I miss her in some weird way, wish we could meet in some fantasy world in which she never raped anyone, I never made a promise not to give my consenting virginity to just "some whore," in which neither of us are prudes or whores, she doesn't have nast stomach hair, herpes, a fetus growing in her womb...and we can finally give each other the love we're both sorely missing. Somehow our realities as nightmare rapist and victim, whore and virgin, will be laughable...endearing almost in this fucked up fantasy I'm having. A girl can dream, even if her dreams are more fucked up than Larissa's.

This energy drink tastes like dirt and puke and no. I figured the other Full Throttle only tasted like that because it was the "nature is one bad mother" flavor...but the citrus one is pretty barfy too. But, hell, if I'm going to stay up until 7 p.m. I need all the help I can get.

Take care all.

Am I the Only Person in this World Who Finds Women Attractive?????

My college promised a gay-friendly environment.  What they neglected to mention is that GAY only means "men."  Just like it always fucking does in this world.  When you ask the average hick why he doesn't support gay marriage, he says, "I don't like the idea of two guys blah blah blah."  Those "queer" cabarets are only for foppy drag-wearing attention whores who make the "Leave Britney Alone" guy look like a beef-eating football-playing all-American jackass.  Nobody cares about lesbians, except fifteen-year-old boys who like to fap to us. 

You know what, I'm just going to say it.  I HATE men with a lesbian fetish.  I hate those guys who come home to unload on their already sticky keyboard to things they don't deserve to see.  When they're tired of throat rape and ass assimilation, they're onto fucking lesbians.  To illustrate how much I utterly and completely despise lesbian porn as a whole, let me create a sample lesbian porno to start.

Pussy Lickers Five!

Act 1: Start kissing, but make sure only your tongues touch, and that your hands are doing some kind of noodle dance onto her boobs.

Act 2: Take off her bra, and then start moaning even though nothing is happening yet.  Kiss her left breast and her right breast.

Act 3: She's randomly completely naked and you barely lick at her pussy like it's some disgusting ass meatloafy porkchop thing your grandma made that you're not sure is safe for human consumption.  Smack her pussy a few times, and drop noisy spit on it.  Cuz that's REALLY sexy as we all fucking know.  And...hopefully by now she's making that kind of moaning that sounds like one of those whiny-voiced black and white movie actresses getting raped immediately after being hit by a car.

Act 4: Find some really porous and toxic dildo (any jelly will do) and start giving it a sensual blow job.  Treat it a LOT better than you treated her.

Act 5: Don the strap and force her to blow you.  Moan like a helium sucking cow getting branded.

Act 6: There is no act six.  No one ever orgasms in lesbian videos, unless some guy interrupts.

Movie makers continuously crank out this garbage, and then what am I?  Sensitive guys think I'm just afraid of their magnificent dicks, assholes wanna watch me fuck a woman...because the only reason I like women is obviously to turn on the sort of guys who deserve to turn up in trash cans far more than their last five girlfriends who have been featured on America's Most Wanted.

The only time anyone has ever kissed me was at some stupid drunken party where peer pressure had me naked within the first ten minutes, and anxiety for the date I had the next day got me making out with some bottle bisexual, a lesbian I was rejected for only a couple weeks ago, this other random straight girl, and some guy's girlfriend who had incredibly nasty breath (bless her heart).  I said...I didn't want to take off my bra, but peer pressure prevailed.  I said I didn't want any GUYS touching me, but that stupid fuckhead whose chest looks like a carpet had to get a pinch at my ass.  And by the end of the night, everyone had made out with the other lesbian (guys and girls) and I stood out badly as "the one who has a lower comfort level" or "isn't ready" or what the fuck ever.

Why the FUCK does this need to have anything to do with my damn comfort level.  If all the guys want to kiss each other in between kissing girls, mostly grabbing girls off me, FINE.  If the other lesbian wants to make out with guys because she has five fucking drinks in her and she's a terrible lightweight, FINE.  But that doesn't mean that I'm less brave, less mature, less ready, what the fuck ever.  It means when I see a pair of male lips coming at me, EVERYTHING inside me just screams "NO!"  I don't care what other girls do, but to me the idea of kissing a guy is just...well it's disgusting.  But at my college EVERYONE likes men.  All the girls (even the fucking lesbians) like men...and all the guys (even the straight ones) do too.  I fail to see what is so goddamn special about men that not only do they run everything in this country, but enough of them to create horribly negative stereotypes sell the dignity of ALL women for the price of one pornstar's DVD (hell these days you can download us).  You can put us on your computer and claim what's rightfully yours.  You can have every girl who has ever turned you down at the click of a button.  No fucking wonder no one wants a woman.  Society has cheapened us.  Made us worthless.

Women go to stores, and have two choices.  Look like a slut, or be grandma.  A woman's body isn't something special anymore.  It isn't a gift.  And vagina is only par for the course (as is deep-throating).  ANAL is the real gift.  The only thing of any real intimate value on us (in the eyes of narrow-minded societal mother culture), is the hole that our FECES comes out of.  That's what we're worth to these guys.  The shoot of feces. 

Pardon me, men of the world, if I don't feel FLATTERED when you want to shove your dick up my ass.  Basically...what you're saying when you want that, is that you don't want to have to look at me.  You want to put me in the most degrading position you can come up with, and ram me from behind so you won't have to look at me, and remember I'm a human being, while we fuck.  WHAT WORTH has society left us women, that you fucking NEED to degrade us any further?  We're putting fucking SEVEN-YEAR-OLDS in THONGS that say "wink wink" or "eye candy."  Abercrombie kids, look it up if you don't believe me. 

They show us these movies like She's All That, The Princess Diaries, and Never Been Kissed, where a girl magically morphs from a wildabeast into the most popular girl in school...but ultimately falls in love with the one male friend who was there for her all along.  Then they market us these hot, grown up clothes.  And you think, "I could be like Mia in the Princess Diaries.  Sure I'm a loser now, but come fall I'll be beautiful.  And everyone will want me."  The summer before 7th grade, I did this yoga exercise I found in Girl's Life to make myself taller.  I shampooed my hair with Sheer Blonde constantly, and in the fall I hit Nordstroms for skin-tight glitter jeans, short shorts, mini-skirts, a TON of makeup, and even this one pair of pants that had a stripe that went up my ass crack and between my legs.  Call me an idiot, but I HONESTLY didn't know that I was putting on a sexual image.  I just thought that I was being mature, grown up, cool, pretty if you will.  They get you all ready for your Princess Diaries fairytale ending, then they throw you to the fucking wolves.  They send you to middle school and every guy is "my balls this" and "my balls that" and "suck my dick" and "blow me!"  Seriously...I could not walk two feet without hearing SOMETHING about some guy's penis in middle school.  It was a major turnoff, and I was struggling to make myself like guys as it was.  I found myself checking out the other skankishly clad girls, all the while thinking "guys really aren't sexy enough to forgive their behavior."

When I came out as "bi," I met my kind-of-almost-it's-complicated rapist and learned that girls can be just as heartless as guys.  Now, to be honest, I can't fucking trust anyone.  My best friend has feelings for me, and every time he tells me this, those rapist words...that I deserved it, that I turned her on and now I have to pay...that FUCKING BULLSHIT runs through my head and I think, what if that's what EVERYONE who looks at me...and lusts after my "D cup ass" is thinking?  What if all of them are really entitled to rape me for being attractive and not putting out?  I'm SORRY if I seem like a man-hater, I'm just so fucking scared.  And she didn't have the decency to rape me, full on, physically.  She came to me in dreams...and I almost KNOW that she did this (three years after the fact) and raped me/tormented me/stalked me/whatever the fuck she did NIGHTLY for TWO to THREE FUCKING YEARS.  And...what the hell am I supposed to do now?  Go to some rape support group and say "I had a bad dream?"  Go to a shrink and say "this girl raped me astrally?"  No.  You can't fucking do that.  NO ONE will believe me...well some people semi-do...but HOW can they when I don't even fucking believe me half the time.

It doesn't matter if she raped my body or my soul.  She's a fucking whore, a fucking rapist, a fucking cunt.  Girls like her are part of the reason why no one likes women...and the added injury is that she HAS a soul.  There IS something deeper to her, and what the fuck does she do?  HIDES it behind this skanky cuntrag BULLSHIT that she presents to the world ALL befuckingcause NO ONE wants to see a talented, attractive young woman who makes people feel good about themselves and is bluntly outspoken (that's what she was on good days).  NO.  They want a cunt, an asshole, and a throat to fuck.  That's what society tells them they want anyway, and most of them eat that shit up.  Well...to all you decent men out there...(and women), I salute you.  And to all you shitbags of both gender...surely my rapist will be at your door soon...and you can have her all.  Her pussy, her mouth, her throat, her eye sockets, her ears, any other orifices you care to carve...all will be yours.  But her body isn't free.  You'll take, she gives.  And when your penis or vagina is covered in festering erupting little red sores, I hope you regret with every fiber of your being putting carnal animal flesh-hunger over the worth of your soul.

Technorati Tags: lesbians,men,porn,bisexual,anger,angst,rant,D cup,breasts,rape

TOUCHA TOUCH ME (Quietly...)

With the exception of the strongly religious and the radical anti-sex organizations, more and more people are embracing this sex-positivism (which I will rant about another time) that encourages the belief that masturbation is a healthy, normal part of being human. Brushing your teeth is a normal part of being human, and most apartments provide sinks. Eating is natural, and most schools offer meal plans, and apartments have kitchens. Sleeping is natural, so every living arrangement has a bedroom of some sort. Accepting that these are natural things to do, it would seem silly if at EVERY point in your life, circumstances made it mind-numbingly, off-pissingly, wanna throw thingsishly difficult for you to do these things. Then why is masturbation (this natural, wondrous exploration of my literal 'inner womyn' so different).

I started masturbating when I was sixteen, mainly to convince myself that I wasn't in love with my almost-sort-of-well-it's-complicated rapist, and maybe to some degree to try to prove to myself that I wasn't gay. Neither of these things worked. I was fairly careful about masturbation, I'd do it late at night, in my bathroom, with the door locked. I swear it felt like every other time my mother would get up, pound on my door, and go, "I forgot to give you a goodnight hug!"

I'd tell her not to come in, using every excuse under the sun and moon. "I'm naked, I'm getting in the shower, I'm on the toilet," usually all of those in unison...sometimes all of those in unison were true sadly, and she'd say, "It's okay I won't look!"

Creepy.

Why didn't I do it in my room, you ask? Because I tried this, and learned the VERY hard way that I'm a female ejaculator. I was wearing a pad, like you'd wear for a period (even though I wasn't menstruating that day). Not just ANY pad, a kotex OVERNIGHT WITH WINGS. A frickin diaper if you will...and by the end of my masturbation session, my underpants, the pad, the pants I was wearing (I was masturbating through the clothes), my bed sheet, and several layers of blanket on top of me were positively drenched. Think I'm exaggerating? I WISH!

Then when I got to college, my roommate was one of those people who I'm pretty sure never masturbated in her life. Try as I did to be quiet, she would subtly cough or start thrashing like I had just hit her with a cattle prodder if she heard the slightest sound on my side of the room. Worse, I fancied vibrators during that time, and had to go to extreme measures to mute the noise AND keep anyone from noticing me throw my towel robe on and crawl off the sopping bunk at night.

Even in my own place...the walls are paper thin and my new vibrator is loud as hell. Plus my air mattress is awkward and doesn't like to be treated like a bathtub. I swear...bedrooms should be like churches were for Quasimoto. You should be able to walk into them and shout, "SANCTUARY!!!!!!!!!!!" and not have to worry about your porn, your vibrator, your squirt, etc. because it's YOUR ROOM. But...alas...we do not live in such a perfect world:-(

And you wanted this?

So I'm a 34 B now.  The first cup size change since the summer before 7th grade.  Go me.  My breasts are still so goddamn small, but still there are those days where it feels like NOTHING supports them enough.  I sometimes feel like I want some kind of claws to push them up and hold them in place so they'll feel supported and not all tender and lame like they do now. 

The girl I like describes herself as a T & A girl (she likes tits and asses).  That's great for me because aside from what a drunk chick once called "a D cup bootie" and I call "an ugly fat ass," I have zero curves.  My breasts...are perky I guess...and I've heard good things about my areolas, but that's not enough to assuage my horror that my body is some kind of terribly unlovable mistake.  Then again...there's nothing I can do to make myself acceptable.  If my breasts were bigger, chances are gravity would fuck everything up and I'd get rejected for small breasted girls just as a toast to horrible cosmic justice.  If I don't shave my pubic hair, I always get this flood of crap from my guy friends about how nasty pubic hair is, and how that girl better shave (one guy said this to me under the assumption that hair doesn't grow on the labia...HAH).  Shaving pubic hair is masochism, ladies and gents.  There's nothing I like more than having a blade brush against my clitoris, knowing that this isn't some kinky, fucked up, exotic favor I'm doing for someone, but something our chauvinistic society mandates if you ever want to be worth anything sexually speaking.

Technically I shouldn't care.  I'm a lesbian, so what the hell do I care if men (the porn-brainwashed ones) would never want me?  I care because ever since I came out I've been getting this bull crap of "you're so lucky you're a lesbian because you don't have to give blow jobs/take it up the ass/swallow cum/break your hymen/whatever."

If these girls had any idea what kind of bullshit and horror I go through to be gay, I pray they'd have the decency to shut their goddamn mouths.  Narrowly escaping a rapist and spell caster with festering herpes, in my mind, outdoes "he wants a blow job and I have no will of my own so I can't say no."  Having your family treat you like shit, then scream at you for thinking they've ceased to love you, all over your orientation...somehow seems harder to get around than "I really don't like anal Guy I'm Into.  Can we do something else?" 

Point is, I don't want my lesbianism to be about weakness.  I want to be able to do everything a straight girl can, maybe more.  This is especially difficult when you have penetration problems like I do.

My stomach is killing me.  I can't tell if it's from hunger, overeating of junk, exhaustion, PMS, or a lovely mixture of the above.  I cooked for myself for the first time yesterday without anybody holding my hand the whole way, and today I was just too tired/lazy.  My exit was closed on the way to my psychologist's office, so I missed it and ended up missing my appointment which I sorely needed :'(  Oh and I forgot to mention that this all went down when I was two days off Zoloft...because that's just the best.

Being off Zoloft gives me terrible chills, terrible panic, terrible rage.  I hate it.

I'm dead tired...but I hate the thought of sleep tonight...waaaah.  I don't want it to be Monday, and I don't want to have to start looking for a new job:'(