Once again, don’t know how long it’ll be so I’ll cut it off, so let’s gogogogooooooo
In Paragraph Form Rather Than Spamming Your Dash With Pictures & Whatnot
How I loathe certain women at times
“Hey babe?” Her words filled the room, talking to her boyfriend of one week. The boy turned his head and looked at the girl laying on his bed, her lips in a pout. “Hm?” He asked, blushing slightly, seeing the girl on his own bed. “Come lay with me, please?” The boy wondered what her intentions were, but reluctantly he rose from the floor and went to his bed, laying down next to her. She immediately put her arm around him and snuggled in close. “Have you ever kissed before?” She asked him, as he looked ahead, not even looking at the girl. “Back in sixth grade, yeah. I got paid for it though. And all it was, was a fishy kiss.” The boy explained, somewhat chuckling remembering his past. “I like kissing. It’s fun.” The girl breathed onto his neck, tauntingly, as if trying to seduce him. “What exactly are you doing there?” The boy asked turning round poking his girlfriend’s nose. “Oh, nothing.” She said, and soon after she said that, the girl went in to kiss him. She slowly transformed their cuddling position into something much more. She was on top of him, her hands holding his wrists down. “Hey, hey, hey now!” The boy managed out between the ever dominating kisses, even in an attempt to get her to stop he curled his lips in. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” Her words were comforting to him, and he trusted her. The kissing had continued, and both were enjoying it, still, the girl wouldn’t take her hands off his wrists. “Hey baby?” The girl pulled away from the kiss, and looked at the boy beneath her. “Yeah?” He replied as if in a daze. “I love you” She spoke as if true, and the boy’s once hazy eyes were wide open, and before he could even utter a reply, the girl went in for yet another kiss, but she trailed it down his neck rather sensually. “What’re you doing!? That tickles!” The boy laughed, not quite comprehending the situation. “Just relax baby, it’s supposed to feel good!” The girl yelled at him, and he could feel the agitation in her voice. So the boy shut his trap, and continued kissing the girl on top of him. They continued kissing until he felt the girl smile into the kiss, and she’d finally let his wrists go. The boy sighed relief as his wrists were in pain from the fierce grip she had. She finally went back down and laid next to the boy. And there they were, face to face, just laying there, looking at one another. Finally, the girl took ahold of the boys hand and placed it on her breast. “W-What are you doing!?” The boy exclaimed, petrified of her rather bold actions. His hands clenched into fists, realizing it was all going way too fast. “Stop. Seriously.” The boy looked at her, seriousness present in his face. Her answers were always kisses, she had captured his lips yet again. This time, she’d slipped her hand up his shirt, snaking it up though his undershirt, groping his ever hated breasts. “Seriously! Stop it!” He yelled, wincing in pain, as the girl squeezed the tumors angrily. “Wow. You really are an ugly person aren’t you? I mean, these things are mushy!” She laughed. “They’re broken down from binding!” The boy spat back, trying to get off the bed, mad as hell. The girl held her grip even harder, not letting him go at all. “Fucking let me go!” The boy yelled, knowing no one other than her could hear her. The girl then put her hand down his pants and past his boxers, relentlessly pushing her limits. “And you call yourself a man? If you ask me, you’re pretty damn worthless.” The girl snarled. The boy reached his limits, and tears fell from his hazel eyes. “Just stop..” He choked out, wanting the hellacious night to end. The girl finally took her hands off of him. She laid there, staring at the ceiling, while the boy laid there, curled up crying. “I’m sorry babe..I didn’t mean to hurt you..” The girl finally said, pulling the boy into a hug. “I really do love you, you know?” The boy didn’t move a muscle, numb to her touch and words. That night, he moved to the floor for sleep. And their relationship was much strained. “I think we should take a break.” The boy said to the girl, after that much of a nightmarish night. “Baby, I said that I’m sorry! I promise I won’t ever do it again!” The girl pleaded, thinking her words held worth to him. And although he shouldn’t believe her, he did anyways. He still trusted her. The week then passed, and the couple acted as if that weekend didn’t happen, even though the boy trembled and shivered, his mind racing, and his anger would raise, getting incredibly mad at her for what she did, but then, he remembered her promise, and he tried to calm his anger, knowing that they’d have a Call of Duty weekend soon. That COD weekend came sooner rather than later though, but there was a change of plans, and the boy ended up going to the girls house. Stale cigarettes filled the air, and a baby’s cry sounded throughout the run down home. “My room is upstairs, and I don’t really have floor room, so we’ll have to share a bed. I hope that’s okay with you.” The girl seemed genuine, her words not holding one mischievous note. In response the boy nodded, and the two went up the stairs, finding the room with lime green walls, and a huge bed taking up the whole room, only allowing maybe two feet most to walk on each side of the bed. “It’s a water bed!” She’d exclaimed, and hopped on the bed, the boy soon followed, forgetting that he needed to have his guard up. Laugh filled the room, they were having fun, pure, innocent, fun. That was of course, until deja vu happened, and they were kissing yet again, the girl making the same moves she did last week, but this time, she didn’t stop at tears, she only pulled on the useless mound of flesh even harder. “You’re stupid. You actually believed me.” The girl grabbed the boys hand and led it to her core, “If you do me, I won’t hurt you anymore” His only response was squeezing his eyes shut as the girl directed his hand to do everything. “You pathetic scum.” She looked him straight in the eye as she spoke whilst still in control of the boys hand, tears were pouring out of his tightly shut eyes, ashamed of himself. As the girl reached her climax and the boy ran out of salty tears, the girl pushed the boy to the other end of the bed. The boy was shivering. “No one could ever love a hideous monster like you.” Her last words before falling asleep ran through his head ever since then. The next day though, the boy made his final break with the girl, only to be told he should die because it was all his fault, how he’s disgusting and worthless. And worst of all, the boy still believes every word she said to this day, and because of her, he never trusted quite the same ever again.
Alright. Since someone I know keeps assuming the worse with me, here’s me. Everything about me. You’ll learn the darkest side of me, to the side that I am today. So don’t be making these accusations on me without knowing who I am.
When finding my identity, I used to drink a lot. I didn’t know who I was, but drinking really helped me escape myself of who I wanted to deny.
I used to be really into pornography. It was something I did when I was drunk. I would watch it and be like, this is really messed up stuff. And I’d laugh at it. It was entertaining to me.
Growing up, I’d always want to cause myself pain for my unnatural thoughts. I hate myself to the core. It all started with innocently, just putting tape on my wrists, and when I’d yank it off, it’d hurt, so as I grew, I started to put the tape on the hairy part of my arms, then let it hurt even more. At about third grade I started jumping off monkey bars or the dome things. I’d get on the top, then jump. I’d always aim to jump on my shoulders, that’s why they’re so messed up. Then in junior high, I learned the gloriousness of cutting. And first cut with my shaver, I felt so fantastic. It was a euphoric feeling. My cutting was nothing more than that, but then my freshman year of high school, I came out as trans, and everything escalated. I was pushed into even more lockers than I was in junior high, I was raped, just everything was horrible. I brought out a knife, and I went to town. It all started on my hand. I’d cut on the side of my hand, and I’d make sure they were deep and I’d blame it on my dog clifford. Then I got in a relationship with a girl, and she manipulated me to the point where she had me around her little pinky finger. Then, all of a sudden, she dropped me. I got drunk that night, and I carved a heart into my arm. I don’t remember it at all, other than the fact that I’ve got this little faded heart scar on my arm. The worse though, was the night my life got turned upside down. My girlfriend, now bestfriend, kept the secret of me being trans from her parents due to the fact that we knew they’d react the way they did. Silly me actually had faith in them. Nonetheless, they made us break up. We hold onto each other day though, we’re waiting for one another. They can break the girlfriend/boyfriend thing up, but they can’t break us. But I remember, one night, after hearing some of the harshest words in my life, them saying all this crap on how I stalk, how I obsess, how I do this and that when I honestly don’t. I cut my ankle up. I have three deep scars on my left ankle. I remember the blood flowing so beautifully like a river. I couldn’t help but think, maybe I am a monster..
Pressing the dull blade into his wet skin, he took a sharp breath. The pain seemed so unreal. Thoughts raced through his head, from the moment he met her to present. If it wasn’t for the people, things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did. A small smile curved his lips, he remembered the moment where he looked into her eyes and said ‘I love you’ for the first time. Blood finally trickled on the blade. “It’s all my fault..” His words were let out low, like a whisper. He led the knife to yet another piece of flesh, ready to turn his body into his own canvas again. “I wish I was just allowed to love you. I just want to be with you..” Before digging the blade in yet again he brought his hand to where he made a heart on his arm. The scar was still there. That shitty heart that people would sometimes make for a hickey, was still placed on his forearm. He took a long stare at the scar. “Why did this happen?” Placing the blade on his leg again, he put as much pressure as he could, in attempt to make the session a bloodbath. “Am I really a monster?” His thoughts haunted him, taunting his every thought with depression. Why would someone even love him? “I have too much baggage..it’s no wonder no one likes me..” He pulled the blade down, watching the ribbon like blood come out of his skin. This was the only pain he could take anymore. “I just want to be a normal boy..I swear..I won’t hurt you on purpose..” The words seemed good to him, but he knew no one could hear him. “I just want to be able to go back in time. I wish I could have done at least one thing right..” His arms fell to his side, and he closed his eyes tight, as if he could go back. “I am a monster. With no absolute purpose, ain’t I?” As his eyes opened, tears stung his cold skin. “All I wanted to do was love and be loved..isn’t that normal?” Things would never be the same again. “I can’t believe I let myself trust again..” Dropping the blade, he balled his hands into fists, pounding his sides, his stomach. Punching himself intensely. The only thought running through his head, If I punch hard enough, maybe the ovaries will go away, and they can see me for my true self. As a man. He knew inside though, that that’d never happen. People always used his identity against him. “No one will ever love me.. no one will ever accept me..” His punches became harder, but then he spotted the sweet knife yet again. And it dawned on him. Why don’t I cut them off myself! He placed the blade on his chest, pressing down slightly. His worthless body was never of use. He put pressure down, and found that it was slightly enjoying to think of life without the horrendous breasts he had never wanted. But as he saw the blood coming from the tumors, his senses finally came to reality. “I really am stupid..to think that’d actually help anything..” His whispers were barely audible. “There’s no hope for the hopeless” he fell back, his head hitting the wall. His eyes looked around the room, until he remembered, my towel! Looking on his bed, he saw the towel, getting up slowly, and grabbing it, he fell back down against the wall and cleaned up the mess he’d just made. “I can’t believe I did it again…It actually felt kind of good though…” He looked at the cut on his ankle, and the other small cuts on his leg. He knew if he told anyone, things would go bad once again. It’d cause her trouble again. Looking up again, closing his eyes and beating his head against the wall until he saw stars. “I wish that I could just disappear and stop causing others troubles..” His words hit his heart, knowing they were truer than true. That night, he’d sleep covered with only his bloodied towel. From that day on, his depression, was worse than ever before.