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I’ve been refraining from writing in here for a bit now. Not because I don’t have anything to write about, cause shit I really do, but maybe because I didn’t know if I was ready to tell anyone yet. For awhile it made me feel dirty, like I was doing something wrong. Which is ridiculous, because out of all the damn things I’ve done in my life, something this normal shouldn’t make me feel dirty.

Forewarning for those of you who aren’t used to my brash honesty: this will be complete TMI. Read at your own risk.

The first thing that made me feel like something was wrong with me was when I started watching porn. Alright, I know most of you are like “Seriously? Porn?” cause hi, I fucking do porn, my pussy is out there for the whole goddamn world to see, but the thing is… I never watch it. Rarely, maybe fucking once every three months. It’s not a normal thing for me, and to be honest I really don’t masturbate all the much. As fucked up as it is, I get off, and no, not literally, writing and reading fics. It doesn’t give me an actual orgasm, but sexually stimulating my mind usually does more for me in the long run. Honestly. I know I’m weird.

Okay, the second thing. It’s been often. Like every night. I don’t masturbate every night to it or anything, but sometimes I just watch it. I have no idea why. I just get the urge to. And it’s never long, maybe a half an hour at best, but it’s still become a reoccurring thing.

Third thing is, and this is the big one: it’s been straight porn. And, hi, not only straight porn, but what I tend to specifically look for is anal, double penetration, and gang bangs.

Right. See, and now you’re all like “Okkayy… yeah, wtf, you lesbian.”

Oh, it gets worse.

I’ve apparently found the sexy in rape fetishes, especially realistic rape fetish porn. By realistic I don’t mean brutal beatings and shit, but porn in which the girl actually puts up a fight, says no, stop, whatever. You have no idea how many rough sex porn people try to classify as “rape” when the girls sitting there being like “Oh, harder, I like it like that.”

Yeah, no. Rape victims don’t do that.

See, you’re all weirded out by me now. I don’t blame you. I’m freaking out myself.

Now, of course, me, being the person who has to study and analyze everything in my own life, and why I’m acting the way I’m acting, goes and looks up rape fetishes. Like, as a study. Apparently, victims of rape sometimes can develop the fetish much later in life. So okay, I don’t feel like such a weirdo on that front anymore.

But there’s still the big glaring issue here: the straight porn. The loads and loads of dicks violating girls straight porn I can’t seem to fucking stop watching.

I imagine this is how normal people feel when they start to come out of the closet. The problem with me is that I accepted from a very early age that I liked women. I’ve never had an attraction to the male species until it started to form about a year or so ago. Slowly, nothing that’s made me really even notice it. This though is hitting me like a shit ton of bricks in the face.

And it’s freaking me out.

You know all those people saying, “I don’t wanna be gay, I don’t wanna be gay”?

Yeah, I’m the opposite. I don’t want to be straight. Or technically bisexual. Trust me, I still love women, very very much. And I do still know that I will eventually spend the rest of my life with one. But this right here freaks me out. Men as an entire species freaks me out when it comes to sex with them.

Okay no, that’s not true. I’ve had sex with men for money.

Let me revise that: men, having sex with a man, for hell, maybe something seemingly even emotional, fucking makes me want to run screaming.

I can’t trust men. I just can’t. I can have men as friends, but even that’s hard for me. Mainly because they can say one thing, just one fucking thing that’s sexual towards me, manages to make me feel uncomfortable, and then I’ll always feel uncomfortable around them. But I don’t say anything, I even sometimes encourage it, because part of my sick twisted brain is convinced that that’s what I’m supposed to do.

The first time I remember doing it was when I was fourteen. He was my friend, I cared about him, had fun with him, but I knew he liked me. I was all over one of my girl friends at the time whenever I was around him, just to make the point that I didn’t like him like that without having to actually say it. But he’s flirt, I’d giggle, I’d do the shit you’re supposed to do.

Until he got me drunk and him and his TWENTY ONE YEAR OLD friend took me to the woods and molested me in his car. And I say molested just because there was no penis inserted. Other things with inserted, shit that I remember fucking hurt all to holy hell and back again. Too many god damn things.

I said “I don’t want to,” a grand total of one time in my drunken half passed out state. Middle of the woods, had no idea where the fuck I was, trashed off my ass, and that fucking instinct just takes over where you realize if you just let it happen then it can’t possibly be worse than what could happen if you try to fight.

Its sick, but that’s what happened. I told my best friend what he did, and you know what she said? “Well you must have acted like you wanted it, because he just wouldn’t do that.” He was her friend too.

Right. I never told anyone about that ever again. Fuck all of that. I probably should tell my mom, she’s hated the bastard since I first started hanging out with him. Worse when he got me into that car accident. But he’s still in jail anyway, so fat lot of good that’ll do.

Anyway, my point is, I can’t handle this whole bi-curious thing I got going on right now. I want it to stop. It freaks me out, and I don’t like it.

And yet I continue to watch this goddamn porn.

Oh and, here’s the great part: integrating my dirty little fetishes into my fanfic. God. My little anal fascination showed up in “The Intervention Job”, and my slight rape/treat me like a whore fetish showed up in “Forgotten.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The fucking end.

Labels: fetish, porn, rape, sex, sexuality, straight

I find it surprising how much I've gotten done today with being horribly sick. I keep coughing up some really gross things, and it's not very fun. I also have yet to clean my house, but um... tomorrow? I decided to take a couple days off because of my sickness, and to get all the things I need to get done, done.

I'll be back to work on Wednesday, and will probably end up working through Sunday. I have yet to decide to go back to Mainstage yet, because Ft. Worth Gentleman's is really not doing me or Dani any good right now, but we'll see.

So I woke up today with absolutely no text messages. You have no idea how wonderful that is for me right now. I usually wake up with about ten missed calls and five new texts. I did have three missed calls from Brandi, but I called her back a little later in the night.

I crawl my sick ass to the computer, and sit in the most uncomfortable computer chair in the world, and start to check my things. I go on facebook, and see that Hudson accepted my friend request. So I send her a message on her wall, pretty much saying that I was under the impression that her and computers don't mix very well, but that I was glad she was on there. And to be honest, I am now. I've gotten over the fear of Hudson knowing all my little things that I do, she knows the kind of person I am, and that I'm influenced a lot by sexuality, so I know it's no surprise for her. She wrote me back a couple minutes later with:

"keep surrendering
i send you much love
h"

Of course I was like wait, surrender to what? Sometimes I have a hard time understanding her, so I sent her a private message and asked. She explained that I need to surrender to God, or my idea of God (basically whatever I think put me on this earth), that I need to scream, cry, pray, do whatever it takes. That my addiction is ruled by my mind, and that I shouldn't surrender to it.

I attempted to grasp that concept, and kind of just left it at that. I kinda need to take what she tells me in small doses, otherwise when she overloads me I feel trapped and vulnerable and then I start to get angry at her honesty. She hasn't done the bluntly honest thing with me yet, but I'm damn sure it'll come in time.

Anyway, she leaves a couple picture comments, and then so do a bunch of my yoga friends, so when I came back I had like 14 new notifications or something, and was all overwhelmed by the large conversations on my pictures.

I'm overcome my blog music problem, if you haven't noticed. Mini YouTube videos! Good enough. And by the way, why the fuck adsense in taking over my tageboard is beyond me. Someone write some shit in there so it might go away. I've never seen that happen before.

I decided it was time for my website to get a new layout, so I made one on Photoshop. After that though, I stopped. I have yet to do the coding. I'll get there eventually though.

Later on, I decided it was time to finally do that smoking fetish video request. It was supposed to be at least 20 minutes, but it only ended up being 10. I'm going to explain to the guy that I'm sick, and I couldn't do 20 minutes. I swear, after each cigarette I stopped the video and coughed up a lung and a half. It was bad, it was getting me light headed and shit. I can't chain smoke sick, people!

Afterwards, I get a brilliant idea to do a new porn video, in the style of my lip sync music videos I did on YouTube. It was a lot of fun, even sick, and I think it turned out awesome. I have some bad ass makeup, and at the beginning I made it like how the beginning of "Poker face" starts (which is the song I did it too, have you noticed my obsession with this song yet?), with the stop, go, rewind, go, stop, thing only I'm undressing myself. Its really really bad ass. I'm proud of myself.

I wish I had some deep thoughts to post today like I did when I was all crazy and shit, but I don't. Maybe tomorrow, but lets not hold our breaths, shall we?

Labels: addiction, drugs, facebook, fetish, hudson leick, lady gaga, layout, poker face, porn, smoking, videos, websites

I’ve been refraining from writing in here for a bit now. Not because I don’t have anything to write about, cause shit I really do, but maybe because I didn’t know if I was ready to tell anyone yet. For awhile it made me feel dirty, like I was doing something wrong. Which is ridiculous, because out of all the damn things I’ve done in my life, something this normal shouldn’t make me feel dirty.

Forewarning for those of you who aren’t used to my brash honesty: this will be complete TMI. Read at your own risk.

The first thing that made me feel like something was wrong with me was when I started watching porn. Alright, I know most of you are like “Seriously? Porn?” cause hi, I fucking do porn, my pussy is out there for the whole goddamn world to see, but the thing is… I never watch it. Rarely, maybe fucking once every three months. It’s not a normal thing for me, and to be honest I really don’t masturbate all the much. As fucked up as it is, I get off, and no, not literally, writing and reading fics. It doesn’t give me an actual orgasm, but sexually stimulating my mind usually does more for me in the long run. Honestly. I know I’m weird.

Okay, the second thing. It’s been often. Like every night. I don’t masturbate every night to it or anything, but sometimes I just watch it. I have no idea why. I just get the urge to. And it’s never long, maybe a half an hour at best, but it’s still become a reoccurring thing.

Third thing is, and this is the big one: it’s been straight porn. And, hi, not only straight porn, but what I tend to specifically look for is anal, double penetration, and gang bangs.

Right. See, and now you’re all like “Okkayy… yeah, wtf, you lesbian.”

Oh, it gets worse.

I’ve apparently found the sexy in rape fetishes, especially realistic rape fetish porn. By realistic I don’t mean brutal beatings and shit, but porn in which the girl actually puts up a fight, says no, stop, whatever. You have no idea how many rough sex porn people try to classify as “rape” when the girls sitting there being like “Oh, harder, I like it like that.”

Yeah, no. Rape victims don’t do that.

See, you’re all weirded out by me now. I don’t blame you. I’m freaking out myself.

Now, of course, me, being the person who has to study and analyze everything in my own life, and why I’m acting the way I’m acting, goes and looks up rape fetishes. Like, as a study. Apparently, victims of rape sometimes can develop the fetish much later in life. So okay, I don’t feel like such a weirdo on that front anymore.

But there’s still the big glaring issue here: the straight porn. The loads and loads of dicks violating girls straight porn I can’t seem to fucking stop watching.

I imagine this is how normal people feel when they start to come out of the closet. The problem with me is that I accepted from a very early age that I liked women. I’ve never had an attraction to the male species until it started to form about a year or so ago. Slowly, nothing that’s made me really even notice it. This though is hitting me like a shit ton of bricks in the face.

And it’s freaking me out.

You know all those people saying, “I don’t wanna be gay, I don’t wanna be gay”?

Yeah, I’m the opposite. I don’t want to be straight. Or technically bisexual. Trust me, I still love women, very very much. And I do still know that I will eventually spend the rest of my life with one. But this right here freaks me out. Men as an entire species freaks me out when it comes to sex with them.

Okay no, that’s not true. I’ve had sex with men for money.

Let me revise that: men, having sex with a man, for hell, maybe something seemingly even emotional, fucking makes me want to run screaming.

I can’t trust men. I just can’t. I can have men as friends, but even that’s hard for me. Mainly because they can say one thing, just one fucking thing that’s sexual towards me, manages to make me feel uncomfortable, and then I’ll always feel uncomfortable around them. But I don’t say anything, I even sometimes encourage it, because part of my sick twisted brain is convinced that that’s what I’m supposed to do.

The first time I remember doing it was when I was fourteen. He was my friend, I cared about him, had fun with him, but I knew he liked me. I was all over one of my girl friends at the time whenever I was around him, just to make the point that I didn’t like him like that without having to actually say it. But he’s flirt, I’d giggle, I’d do the shit you’re supposed to do.

Until he got me drunk and him and his TWENTY ONE YEAR OLD friend took me to the woods and molested me in his car. And I say molested just because there was no penis inserted. Other things with inserted, shit that I remember fucking hurt all to holy hell and back again. Too many god damn things.

I said “I don’t want to,” a grand total of one time in my drunken half passed out state. Middle of the woods, had no idea where the fuck I was, trashed off my ass, and that fucking instinct just takes over where you realize if you just let it happen then it can’t possibly be worse than what could happen if you try to fight.

Its sick, but that’s what happened. I told my best friend what he did, and you know what she said? “Well you must have acted like you wanted it, because he just wouldn’t do that.” He was her friend too.

Right. I never told anyone about that ever again. Fuck all of that. I probably should tell my mom, she’s hated the bastard since I first started hanging out with him. Worse when he got me into that car accident. But he’s still in jail anyway, so fat lot of good that’ll do.

Anyway, my point is, I can’t handle this whole bi-curious thing I got going on right now. I want it to stop. It freaks me out, and I don’t like it.

And yet I continue to watch this goddamn porn.

Oh and, here’s the great part: integrating my dirty little fetishes into my fanfic. God. My little anal fascination showed up in “The Intervention Job”, and my slight rape/treat me like a whore fetish showed up in “Forgotten.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The fucking end.

Labels: fetish, porn, rape, sex, sexuality, straight

I find it surprising how much I've gotten done today with being horribly sick. I keep coughing up some really gross things, and it's not very fun. I also have yet to clean my house, but um... tomorrow? I decided to take a couple days off because of my sickness, and to get all the things I need to get done, done.

I'll be back to work on Wednesday, and will probably end up working through Sunday. I have yet to decide to go back to Mainstage yet, because Ft. Worth Gentleman's is really not doing me or Dani any good right now, but we'll see.

So I woke up today with absolutely no text messages. You have no idea how wonderful that is for me right now. I usually wake up with about ten missed calls and five new texts. I did have three missed calls from Brandi, but I called her back a little later in the night.

I crawl my sick ass to the computer, and sit in the most uncomfortable computer chair in the world, and start to check my things. I go on facebook, and see that Hudson accepted my friend request. So I send her a message on her wall, pretty much saying that I was under the impression that her and computers don't mix very well, but that I was glad she was on there. And to be honest, I am now. I've gotten over the fear of Hudson knowing all my little things that I do, she knows the kind of person I am, and that I'm influenced a lot by sexuality, so I know it's no surprise for her. She wrote me back a couple minutes later with:

"keep surrendering
i send you much love
h"

Of course I was like wait, surrender to what? Sometimes I have a hard time understanding her, so I sent her a private message and asked. She explained that I need to surrender to God, or my idea of God (basically whatever I think put me on this earth), that I need to scream, cry, pray, do whatever it takes. That my addiction is ruled by my mind, and that I shouldn't surrender to it.

I attempted to grasp that concept, and kind of just left it at that. I kinda need to take what she tells me in small doses, otherwise when she overloads me I feel trapped and vulnerable and then I start to get angry at her honesty. She hasn't done the bluntly honest thing with me yet, but I'm damn sure it'll come in time.

Anyway, she leaves a couple picture comments, and then so do a bunch of my yoga friends, so when I came back I had like 14 new notifications or something, and was all overwhelmed by the large conversations on my pictures.

I'm overcome my blog music problem, if you haven't noticed. Mini YouTube videos! Good enough. And by the way, why the fuck adsense in taking over my tageboard is beyond me. Someone write some shit in there so it might go away. I've never seen that happen before.

I decided it was time for my website to get a new layout, so I made one on Photoshop. After that though, I stopped. I have yet to do the coding. I'll get there eventually though.

Later on, I decided it was time to finally do that smoking fetish video request. It was supposed to be at least 20 minutes, but it only ended up being 10. I'm going to explain to the guy that I'm sick, and I couldn't do 20 minutes. I swear, after each cigarette I stopped the video and coughed up a lung and a half. It was bad, it was getting me light headed and shit. I can't chain smoke sick, people!

Afterwards, I get a brilliant idea to do a new porn video, in the style of my lip sync music videos I did on YouTube. It was a lot of fun, even sick, and I think it turned out awesome. I have some bad ass makeup, and at the beginning I made it like how the beginning of "Poker face" starts (which is the song I did it too, have you noticed my obsession with this song yet?), with the stop, go, rewind, go, stop, thing only I'm undressing myself. Its really really bad ass. I'm proud of myself.

I wish I had some deep thoughts to post today like I did when I was all crazy and shit, but I don't. Maybe tomorrow, but lets not hold our breaths, shall we?

Labels: addiction, drugs, facebook, fetish, hudson leick, lady gaga, layout, poker face, porn, smoking, videos, websites

My name is Mary. I'm a 24 year old creative mess. I like to tell stories in anyway that I can, though mostly through visual artwork. I enjoy film editing, writing, modeling, photography, dancing, and website design. I'm a lesbian. I'm bipolar. I'm stronger than I usually give myself credit for. I'm a recovering drug addict. I'm passionate as all hell. I'm a beautiful disaster. I want to be free. I want to fly.

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