Come unto me, daughter of the Lord, that I may know you, and cast you down.
I want to use your body to mock your God; I long to wrench away His child and defile her upon His altar. I want to watch you dishonor your family and traditions for my amusement, and then return you once more to a life of pious lies.… Read the rest “I Am Sin”
I don’t think I use the phrase “for my purposes” often enough.
“I know you’re not technically a whore, but you’re whore enough for my purposes.”
“You’re not much to look at, but you’ll do for my purposes.”
“Go ahead, close your eyes and cry into the pillow.… Read the rest “”
You wring such grace from awkwardness; it’s like watching someone win a bar bet with Fate, day after day.
Makes sense to me; it’s a waste of time, kissing a girl who needs to be handled.
Because yeah, if I’m brushing my lips over the whole of your body, I’m probably doing something gross like “thinking of your feelings” or “caring about your pleasure.”… Read the rest “”
Love is among my favorite things in the world. But only because I decided long ago that it isn’t a synonym for happiness; it’s a cause, not a feeling. It’s an irrational, transcendental thing I can believe in; it’s something like a religion to me, only with sexier inquisitions and a smaller body count.
Some are “spontaneously buy flowers and chase her down the street just to tell her she’s breathtaking and then walk away” pretty.
Others are “hold her hand and stroke her hair while allowing ugly strangers to hurt her in the dark” pretty.… Read the rest “Girls Are Pretty”
I love the idea of you very much.
Eating up five hours of your life with an idea I casually placed in your head is my version of tantric sex.
Japanese women pay handsome man to make them cry, then dry their tears
Now if I can just convince American women to pay an ugly man to make them cry and maybe spit on them a little, we’ll be getting somewhere.
You’re educated, but kind of stupid. You’re grown, but an infantile mess. You’re overflowing with the future, and yet studiously fixated on an ever-shrinking sliver of the past. The only truly volitional, defining acts of your life have been your squandering of opportunities and refusal of responsibilities.… Read the rest “Pillow Talk”
