I raped a girl today. It wasn’t my intention. But it happened. I don’t know if it was because I felt like she was showing signs of wanting me. Or because I just wanted to, in spite of anything she wanted.
At the moment, I didn’t think. I didn’t think about any of that. Because I guess I didn’t care. I didn’t care about any of that. I saw what I wanted and I took it. And I took it good. Maybe she even enjoyed it. Maybe she just pretended to not want it. Girls do that sometimes. They say no, because they’re not sure, because they feel it’s wrong, because they want to play games. Not because they really don’t want it.
So I took her to a place nobody would come by. I knew that, because I’ve been there before. To just be alone and smoke weed or drink and think about things. I took her there and I sat her down. We talked, I thought I could talk her into being into me. She did show signs of liking me, but I still wasn’t sure. So I just started touching her. She did say ‘no’, but it wasn’t very convincing. She seemed insecure. So I went on. I took her hand and put it on my body. I told her to suck my dick. She said she had never done that before. What? She was 19 years old, 1 year older than me. How could she have never done that before.
I told her to try, she said she didn’t want to. But I was already hard, I don’t know why. Maybe because of the look in her eyes, asking for me to save her, or her trembling lips, that I wanted to touch so badly. I took her hand and put it on my dick. I told her to touch it. I lifted up my sweatpants and put her hand in my boxers. Her eyes became large. That meant she liked it, right?
She tried to pull her hand back, but I didn’t let her. I got up and pulled her up with me. I turned her around and kissed her neck. That way she would feel comfortable. Comfortable and happy about what was going to happen. She kept saying ‘no’, but I felt like she didn’t mean it. I pulled down her pants and her underwear. Now she was begging ‘please don’t do this’.
Those were just words though, she didn’t do anything to stop me. I pulled out my dick and put it at the entrance. I pushed in and it felt so tight and warm, wet even.
If she’s wet, how can she say she doesn’t want it? How can she not want this? It feels so good. I hold her tightly around her waist. She screams ‘no, please stop’ a couple of times. She puts her nails in the skin of my arm. I tighten my grip and hold her firmly. She’s not going anywhere. She is mine, for now. I thrust in and out. I fuck her hard and deep. Now she can’t deny me anything. No one can deny me this. I’ve earned this, I deserve this. She belongs to me. Her body is my pleasure. She keeps begging me to stop. It’s starting to get annoying. I tell her to wait, I’m almost done. I feel like I’m going to cum, but she needs to shut up. She’s so tight and warm, her body feels so smooth and soft in my arms. How can she not feel what I’m feeling? This feeling is awesome, fucking awesome!
She has her hands covering her mouth now. See, she does enjoy it, she has to control herself not to scream in delight. I thrust a couple more times and I cum. I empty out all my built up frustration and sensation in her precious little hole. I stay in there for a minute. Trying to regain the feeling, trying to block out her crying. She’s ruining it for me!
I pull out and walk away to clean my dick. I come back and she’s still standing in the position I left her. I must’ve fucked her in shock, that’s how good it was. She can’t even move, that’s how good it was. It must have been that good to her. She has her hand covering her mouth and she’s crying. Fuck, why is she still crying? Wasn’t it as good to her as it was to me? I try to pull up her pants, just so nobody will catch us here. She doesn’t cooperate, but she also doesn’t struggle against me. She’s still crying.
What did I do? What’s her fucking problem!? Wasn’t it great for both of us? I take her to sit down again. I wipe her tears and try to comfort her. She doesn’t say anything, and is just crying, still.
I try to talk to her, while stroking her head, but she seems so distant. The things I say, do not seem to reach her. I don’t know what to do anymore, I’m giving up. I’ll just take her back to the station. I’ll just get rid of her, as soon as possible. What a disappointment this is.
Fuck! I guess I just raped her…
Heavy on the heart…this happened 8 years ago today.. (written in my perception of his perspective)
The Soul
– soulful prose
Nobody.
The only reason why I need people in my life, is to be reminded that they are never to be trusted or relied on.
A simple reminder for everyone:
Just know, in the back of your head, but try to keep it close to the surface of your heart, that when it comes down to the real essence, there is exactly nobody there for you. Regardless the cause or nature of your troubles. Regardless if it’s trouble or perhaps even happiness you have to share. There is nobody who really cares, nobody you can count on. You have nobody.
So feel free to get connected, involved or attached with anyone. Just remember this one truth until your last breath. Nobody.
You will only, always only, have yourself. In your best and in your worst moments, in the center of that moment, it’s always just you. You are born alone, you live alone, and you will die alone. Others come and go and might stay for a while and you may enjoy their company. But don’t fool yourself with thinking that they are there for you. They are, just like you, only there for themselves. It’s their right and their prerogative also, as it is your duty to come to this awareness. You need nobody.
It’s the loneliest realization to ever make, but it’s necessary to prevent any further disappointment and protect yourself from rejection and every form of hurt. Accept misery from…exactly, nobody.
It’s easy once you get it. You will always have nobody. No matter how deeply they love you, no matter how many unconditional promises were planted in your fertile soil of optimists belief. No matter how close and compassionate they may seem, they are never going to be there for you when you actually need them. That is a promise I can make in the name of the universe.
Be cliché because be yourself!
She wants to experience all the lives of all the others. She joins in on their hysterical crazes and tries to blend her mind with their outrageous ideas. She does the research to make sure she understands them and can keep up. She sometimes dives in too deep, and what for others was casual leisure, becomes now an obsession for her. That’s when she moves on to another group. One where she can fit more of herself in, one where she feels more parts of her reflected and understood.
I wish someone would tell her, it’s not necessary at all, what you are doing. You don’t have to conform to be able to be liked. You don’t have to try so hard to be still so unheard. You don’t have to sell your soul to open up your heart. You don’t have to be liked to be loved by people who matter. And what would you rather be, liked or loved? Disposable or invaluable?
The most important thing is to be aware of yourself and what you have to offer them. Don’t downplay yourself, be real and be honest. What do you see reflected in people’s faces when you’re with them? What compliments do they give that you got so accustomed to nonchalantly brush off? What do you like most about others? Chances are, that’s what you like most about yourself, only you have trouble seeing it in yourself, so you seek the reflection of it in others.
Go and experience your own life. Explore your own desires and weave your own dreams. Follow them, or write about them, paint them or just tell them to others. Inspire and have hope. Always have hope. Love and despair from time to time, but not all the time (no, not even love). Create and let loose. Suffocate yourself in breathing new things and drown yourself by swimming new depths. Be proud, be silly, be passionate, be noisy and obnoxious, be humble and forgiving. Be thankful and be aware. Be cliché because be yourself!
Lost.
I’m missing parts of my life that I haven’t lost yet, but that slowly disappeared from my daily encounters, seeping silently, dimming to diminishment.
I still to this day don’t understand how or why, the people I felt closest to, came and went by in the fraction of a blinked eye. I don’t hold grudges or resentment, but I do hold questions that will remain forever unanswered. And as I try to let them go, I wonder why it still matters to me while it seemingly never mattered that much to them.
The saddest thing about this is that when I do still talk to these people, it seems they also don’t know why or when or how it went lost. The only difference is that they just moved on without considering the options, without caring to even try. I feel I tried my best and gave my all, considering every possible scenario to be the least judgmental and the most understanding. I feel I valued these people dearly and never wanted for us to stray, not like this.
Why it happened, doesn’t matter anymore. How it happened, does still hurt.
I just still wonder, was it necessary to happen at all? As if growth and evolution can’t happen with people that you love surrounding you. As if I was holding any of these people back.
It hurts me to think that they might have thought of me that way.
I will never know because I will never ask. Partially, because I’m afraid of the answers, partially because I know they don’t have the answers.
Maybe I should just ask, I already lost them either way, what more do I have to lose now? But maybe the definitive aspect of receiving answers, is the closure I try to avoid, because I hope not all is lost just yet.
The Unpromised Tomorrow
I would not ask of you to give me all your tomorrows, for there is no such thing as a promise in tomorrow.
I wouldn’t ask you for anything beyond your control of the universe.
But I’d like to ask you for your yesterdays. A promise to share together our reflections on memories of our times.
That, if we may make it to the unpromised tomorrow, we will accompany each other to celebrate every yesterday we’ve come through.
Stop looking.
He kept showing my only each and all of the reasons why I broke up with him in the first place. Every time we’d interact, he’d whip out another classic example of his asshole self, his selfish behaviors, his grave lack of responsibility, his inability to care, try, reflect or understand, his stubborn stuck up spoiled blown up ego and pride that he continued to hide behind.
So I had to stop looking. I had to look away and stop feeding the person that I hated he’d become with my attention and frustration. I realized only now that this person he was becoming, thrived on my anxiety and my attempts to bring out the best of him gave him fuel to desperately keep holding on control over himself.
My obsessiveness, I shall admit, must’ve enabled him to retreat from willingness to arrogance.
Yet he truly was convinced he was evolving as a person. But growth and evolution are a one way direction. You can’t grow into a littler man. He was becoming less of himself by trying to be free, while he already was.
Still, his life so his choice, his prerogative. But I wasn’t willing to stand idly by and let that happen to the man I love. I tried my everything to make him see and realize what he was doing and what he was letting happen, but there is only so much one person can do for another until it crosses outside of your jurisdiction. It wasn’t up to me.
So I’m not looking anymore. I’m walking away. My hands clean. My conscience clear. My heart emptied of dead weight. My soul cleansed from all the hurt and sorrow. No more of his drama in my tomorrow.
Although I might’ve been the cause and reason of all of this. I arrived in his life, shook it up and down, put pressure and pushed him, had extensive needs and expectations. It doesn’t matter to me anymore. Whether I did this, or he. I don’t want it anymore. It’s holding me back from being myself, from my own journey, my growth, my evolution, my becoming of my self.
I will have to learn to fabricate a future for myself that doesn’t include him. Give up all my plans and dreams. Start all over, again.
Point the direction of my hope on myself again. Put my thoughts and feelings on a path surrounding myself. Pray for my own happy ending. By myself. Alone, as I’ve always been. With whomever I was.
Survival is selfish.
My neighbors might think I run a bdsm dungeon, because at times I scream and cry so loud that it sounds like I’m being tortured.
Which, essentially, I am.
I have episodes of depression and anxiety attacks that are so severe. When every fiber in my body is conspiring together to hurt myself.
In the pure desperation to overpower myself, I have no sense of control.
By any means necessary, I have to protect and save myself.
From myself, by myself.. that struggle not many will understand.
I can’t rationalize myself out of it, there is no logic or reason.
There’s only survival.
Calming myself down could actually turn out to be more dangerous.
Every episode asks for its own individual approach. One time, a cigarette might suffice. The next day a walk could ease my nerves. Another moment I will collapse in the weakness of my flesh and dissolve in the saltiness of my tears.
There is no way to prepare or prevent these attacks from happening or coming at me.
There’s no way to know in advance how to deal with that particular anxiety that’s going to infect me next.
Once I’m in it, I’ll fight with all I have to reach through and make it out alive and unharmed.
By any means necessary, I won’t apologize for how. Survival is selfish.
Now I will
My heart is too widely open
I could be crouched down with a blade pressed to my skin
But if someone would then and there need me, I’d forget all the hate and hurt, just for them, temporarily
To have it waiting for me when I return to myself
I will still, help, love, care
Even if I can’t do any of those for myself
My heart is too widely open
But the love flows one way
Because I don’t know how to receive
I’m not blaming anyone else
It’s not self pity either
Just a reality I either have to get used to
Or find a way to change
But what makes me think, that after 15 years of trying
Now I will succeed?
Being alone.
What scares me most?
Loneliness. Because I live it.
What I want most?
Solitude. The only way I can be myself.
See my dilemma here?
What I crave and hate most deeply at the same time:
Being alone. With my only enemy, my only companion, me…
Rainy day & Falling star
I think that’s what I’ve done with you when I met you. You are both a rainy day and a falling star. You are a miracle and magical. You’re melancholia and nostalgia. To me, you’re the entire spectrum and realm of all things good and bad combined. I think you are what life is trying to teach me. My lesson, my reason, my ending…
Truth Beyond Mystery 