This Will End Badly

World like this though, we can’t care too hard. We let ourselves loose we’d kill ourselves caring.
What we do is we develop coping strategies. Don’t choose them. They happen to us.

It’s one of the beautiful paradoxes of life. If we actively avoid looking out for what it is we want, it will come to us.

Save yourself. The truth is, we want to dominate you. We want you under our dominion, that’s the goal. Whether we never see each other again after tomorrow morning, or whether we fall in love and start a family.
In earning your love, we will own you. This is what we want. This is why we do this. Whoever we are. Me, my associates, the fucking reprobates in the t-shirts. It’s never about you. It’s always about us.

This beautiful girl, sat on a lawn chair with her legs over her head and this smile on her face. So relaxed looking and at peace. This beautiful person providing a terrible profane service that I’m not even paying for. And this was probably not how she saw her life going even though she’s probably smart and dealing with her situation on the lawn chair best she can. And then me. Doing what I was doing. Being the entire reason why she would need to do what she was doing.

Feel sad for the girlfriends of boys who grew up watching porn. Girls who’ll be asked to get down on their knees and take a cumshot in their face. I think this a lot when I look at porn so I’ve decided never to watch any video of a guy and a woman together.

Partly this idea that men have held on to some primeval need to dominate and subjugate women in an age where one person’s ownership over another is impossible. And how we somehow bypassed an era of loving equality and mutual respect and skipped straight to financially incentivised and heavily ritualised status games. Makes sex about hatred and humiliation.
Partly that, but also it’s not sexy. Girl kind of flinches when it hits her face and has to squint while she’s moaning. Can tell she’s desperate to wipe her face because it must itch or tickle or something. But she’s not allowed to touch her face. All she can do is try and make it not dribble into her eyes.
Imagine that. Some dude’s jizz in your eye

But I had nothing to say to them. I couldn’t tell them what was happening to me and I sure as hell couldn’t pretend it wasn’t.
And every normal thing I’d do on a normal day, I just couldn’t do. I’d sit there in the morning and think, what am I gonna do all day? Dunno

Then there’s the other argument which is the opposite. They’re all about women being strong and independent and demanding whatever they want. But if what you want is just random sex with loads of guys then all of a sudden you’re a slut. Or even worse, you’re a victim. You’re getting the shitty end of the stick somehow because there’s all these guys getting laid off your output, regardless of whether or not you’re enjoying it. And it’s now become a shorthand for going off the rails. But only for women though. For men it just makes us a fucking hero.
When we’re dealing with you, we’re always aware that you’re bearing the weight of this psychic conundrum on your shoulders at all times. You care about being judged.
But then would we go home with a girl if we knew we’d be her third or fourth runaround of the week? We don’t know. We genuinely don’t know.

Because the whole thing’s got totally out of hand. You get the magazines and the things that say ‘you should behave like this. You should give blowjobs like this, or use this technique because it drives every single man in the world crazy’. And that’s the kind of angle that pretends to be liberating you sexually but is in fact kind of keeping you in a box. It’s just a modern take on the be a good wifey and give your husband what he wants, sort of thing.
Because it’s the same magazine that’s telling you how to lose weight, what to wear, how to keep your house nice, and usually they have this bit where they’re just shaming women in the public eye who are getting it wrong.

a while we fussed constantly about what women want from us. How we can please them. But then we started to meet them. Women just like you. And we learned it doesn’t really matter what you want. It’s more about what we can get away with based on your sense of self-worth.