I met a girl on Tinder. Used her hair to choke her.

something · 08-03-2015, 06:20 AM

The deeper the concepts get. The more enriched my spectrum becomes. Widen the scope of perception until nothing is easily grasped. I set my eyes on the edges of everything. I can sense a sense. A veil peeling back from some reality I know but can't perceive. I stop sometimes and wonder... am I crazy? Is there a question like a hole the psyche can fall into? Obsession. An idea I can't think. A bug crawling around inside my head. The cold hard facts of life. Eat or be eaten. Sex. Survival bred greed. The gathering. Of status. Of security. Everything else is distraction. I will kill you, because you will kill me, because I will kill you. It's in our nature to hesitate. In our nature to recognize the other will hesitate, and it's in our nature to come to the conclusion that the hesitation is our chance to strike a moment before the other realizes that the hesitation is their opportunity to kill. This is survival. Civilized. Wilderness paved with concrete. Nature paved with law. This observation is made by many. Ignored by most, but it's there in the backs of our minds. We lose ourselves in holidays. Sports. TV drama. Relationships. Plug me back into the matrix and let me live this lie. Fantasy is forever clashing with what I know. I met a girl tonight from Tinder. She approved of my physical appearance and I made parallels to our lives while both complimenting and teasing her. These rituals I've perfected, and engage in as a means to an end. I operate under the fantasy that this means something to me. A lie I even believe for myself on some level. Is this real to her? What stage of life is she in? No matter what, my goal is to win. If she falls in love with me then I've won. A feat that always seems too easy. So easy that I've learned to have no real emotional response to feeling their bodies and minds being tangled around the idea of me. I am sincerity warped by an over saturation of awareness. I am a killer who's never killed. Seemingly made for what I have no intention or desire for. Lives are offered to me on silver platters with dots drawn across the necks of my would be victims. She wanted to cuddle, she said. All it took was a minimal amount of small talk and a few well placed stares. Danger mixed with timidness. Kindness blended with control. At one point she bit my finger so hard that I had to slap her for release. During a ten minute period of choking the breath from her lungs, rolling her clit between my fingers and squeezing her nipple with my teeth I became bored. The violence seems typical. Do I put off this vibe, or is every girl secretly craving to be taken? Her passion was undeniable. Lustful. Intense. Part of me questioned how easily this intensity could bleed its way into other parts of her emotional spectrum. Fatal attraction. I studied her eyes and she asked me, 'what?' She told me I looked at her as though I was searching for something inside of her eyes. I smirked. That kind of transparency makes me uncomfortable, so I grabbed her by her hair and exposed her neck where she told me not to leave any marks. I don't think even think I enjoyed myself tonight. I only do it to see if I can. I live with a girl who gives the best head I've ever received. It's as if she makes love to my dick with her mouth and tongue. She isn't enough. The things I've shared with her about myself leave my truth exposed, but the lie I live is so much more exciting. Reality is so dull. Kill or be killed. We play games to enrich our lives. Obsessed with destruction. The girl I met tonight means nothing to me, yet. I wonder if I mean anything to her. She'll undoubtedly text me tomorrow with terms of endearment. Is this her furthering her projection of me as something meaningful? Or is she that naive?

08-03-2015, 06:20 AM	#1
something Junior Member Join Date: May 2015 Posts: 12 Champed - OM VOTM June 2015 Rep Power: 0	I met a girl on Tinder. Used her hair to choke her. The deeper the concepts get. The more enriched my spectrum becomes. Widen the scope of perception until nothing is easily grasped. I set my eyes on the edges of everything. I can sense a sense. A veil peeling back from some reality I know but can't perceive. I stop sometimes and wonder... am I crazy? Is there a question like a hole the psyche can fall into? Obsession. An idea I can't think. A bug crawling around inside my head. The cold hard facts of life. Eat or be eaten. Sex. Survival bred greed. The gathering. Of status. Of security. Everything else is distraction. I will kill you, because you will kill me, because I will kill you. It's in our nature to hesitate. In our nature to recognize the other will hesitate, and it's in our nature to come to the conclusion that the hesitation is our chance to strike a moment before the other realizes that the hesitation is their opportunity to kill. This is survival. Civilized. Wilderness paved with concrete. Nature paved with law. This observation is made by many. Ignored by most, but it's there in the backs of our minds. We lose ourselves in holidays. Sports. TV drama. Relationships. Plug me back into the matrix and let me live this lie. Fantasy is forever clashing with what I know. I met a girl tonight from Tinder. She approved of my physical appearance and I made parallels to our lives while both complimenting and teasing her. These rituals I've perfected, and engage in as a means to an end. I operate under the fantasy that this means something to me. A lie I even believe for myself on some level. Is this real to her? What stage of life is she in? No matter what, my goal is to win. If she falls in love with me then I've won. A feat that always seems too easy. So easy that I've learned to have no real emotional response to feeling their bodies and minds being tangled around the idea of me. I am sincerity warped by an over saturation of awareness. I am a killer who's never killed. Seemingly made for what I have no intention or desire for. Lives are offered to me on silver platters with dots drawn across the necks of my would be victims. She wanted to cuddle, she said. All it took was a minimal amount of small talk and a few well placed stares. Danger mixed with timidness. Kindness blended with control. At one point she bit my finger so hard that I had to slap her for release. During a ten minute period of choking the breath from her lungs, rolling her clit between my fingers and squeezing her nipple with my teeth I became bored. The violence seems typical. Do I put off this vibe, or is every girl secretly craving to be taken? Her passion was undeniable. Lustful. Intense. Part of me questioned how easily this intensity could bleed its way into other parts of her emotional spectrum. Fatal attraction. I studied her eyes and she asked me, 'what?' She told me I looked at her as though I was searching for something inside of her eyes. I smirked. That kind of transparency makes me uncomfortable, so I grabbed her by her hair and exposed her neck where she told me not to leave any marks. I don't think even think I enjoyed myself tonight. I only do it to see if I can. I live with a girl who gives the best head I've ever received. It's as if she makes love to my dick with her mouth and tongue. She isn't enough. The things I've shared with her about myself leave my truth exposed, but the lie I live is so much more exciting. Reality is so dull. Kill or be killed. We play games to enrich our lives. Obsessed with destruction. The girl I met tonight means nothing to me, yet. I wonder if I mean anything to her. She'll undoubtedly text me tomorrow with terms of endearment. Is this her furthering her projection of me as something meaningful? Or is she that naive?