Manipulative might be an understatement. I get what I want and you give it to me. Control, Alt, Delete: The story of your life.

I would like to gut him like a fucking fish. I hope his children get cancer and he names the tumor after me.

Blood flowing from your wrists and lingering on my tongue... The sweetest taste is that of life. The tie that binds your wrists together in an unholy matrimony of pain and discomfort is also the same which allows me to unmistakeningly take advantage of your body while you moan in absolute euphoria. You like being fucked like this don't you?

I'm not much for writing anymore but I figured I'd give an idea of what my head is like in posting an old entry from a former Blog.

"The company of another seems so much more genuine when it is readily apparent that the events you partake in are very much abhored yet, to her, that is a small price to pay to spend her time with you. When the standard is convenience, being pursued even though it is completely inconvenient is a phenomenom rivaling the God-fearing Christian's pathetic version of a miracle.

Everybody has a security blanket, whether literal or metaphorical and it is an incorrigable feeling to know that I am hers. Under previous circumstances, I would have been proud to say that I was always there for her, to lend a shoulder to cry on... but now my only feeling is embarassment becasue I know that my shoulder is a last ditch effort that only serves as the medium for her to wear the facade of so-called need.