I am but a mirror, reflecting what you wish to see.
Like most mirrors, I lie to you; like most girls, you still listen.
Be Brave
I know you’re sitting out there, waiting. Because you’re a girl, you just sit there and wait.
Wait for something good, or at least something better. Wait to be saved, and cured, and fixed, like an inmate in an empty asylum. Wait for everything to change around you so no one notices you’ve remained the same. Wait for the feelings to go away. Wait for your loins to learn their lessons. Wait for the tide to come in and wash you away to oblivion.
But you know what?
Fuck you.
You don’t get off that easily.
Every girl gets hurt, but brave girls get hurt in more interesting ways.
How is 1Q84 going? -H💕
Confession: At your suggestion, I changed my mind and bought Kafka on the Shore instead. Turned out to be a sub-par audiobook, though, so I’m going to need to get a regular ebook version.
But you get full credit for prompting me to read something new to me; I went with Liu Cixin’s The Three-Body Problem. Which made me very happy, on a number of levels.
There’s so many rape & non-consent fantasies swirling around in my head, and I genuinely find myself asking how I would feel if any of them came true, nonconsensually. And the fact that I’m turned on by that idea really confuses me, and I don’t know how to interpret that. What does it mean if you get wet at the idea of actually being abused?
Here’s the thing: lots of women enjoy the idea. And some women are even capable of erotically metabolizing the reality, at least in hindsight. But of all the chicks I’ve talked with over the years, to a woman, they fucking hated it while it was happening.
Like war, rape is far more fun in fiction or in retrospect. In the moment, it’s just hell.
We walked on the beach beside that old hotel They’re tearing it down now but it’s just as well I haven’t shown you everything a man can do So stay with me baby I’ve got plans for you —This Is The Time - Billy Joel
do you like rape foreplay
…… there is foreplay involved?
Sure! Like, say, when I’m distracting you by playfully touching you with my right hand while the left is pouring something in your drink. Or when I’m running a dictionary attack against one of your accounts, so I can open it up wide and scroll through all the things you’ve prayed I’d never see. Or when I’m discreetly following you home late at night, and thinking about how your bed is going to feel when I’m in it… and you.
Of course, if I’m doing it right, you won’t actually feel the foreplay until much later. And by then, hell, you’ll have already felt much worse.
Wow, Pinnochia… how big a lie did you tell?
Men are oft but boys, and the world an empty lot in which they play.
And you, my dear? You’re the attractive nuisance.
I know there’s a thing trapped inside you that wants to eat you alive, a cancer with teeth that feeds on your heart and shits in your brain.
Have you ever thought about letting it off the leash? Just to see what it would do?
Because I have.