im so frustrated with never getting better at anything and being too lazy and stupid to change that

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@ineedtocleanmybedroomwindow
im so frustrated with never getting better at anything and being too lazy and stupid to change that
you can't forget how to eat pussy, it's just like riding a dyke
tragic update: it's completely possible when you find out you were actually doing it all wrong every time and suddenly have no idea what to do
gay cameron winter be like "im getting killed by a pretty boy i like"
i really have more to be happy about in my life than ever before but i feel closer to wanting to give up on all of it than i have in a very long time
likes your suicidal post and your horny post to let you know you don’t have to do either of those alone
im not a passing transfemme I'm a trans-passing femme
im kind of an american psycho style figure
heavy is the cock that wears the cage
i don't blame myself i just think i could have done something to prevent it and it's all my fault
after recovering from the trauma of never being able to hear bc,nr ants from up there live, getting into the band right when ever hearing any of it live in quite the same way became impossible, i found a local band to obsess over and what do you fucking know it, as soon as i fall in love with their album the bassist leaves the band and im left unable to hear the music in quite the same way live ever again. at least i got to see them literally two times total, that's two more than i saw bc,nr with isaac. feels insane to me how much i hate that i got sick and missed the bassist's final performance. crazy lesson in getting out to shows and doing things you love before you can't.
Can't believe my coworker didn't want to read my humorous lurid fantasy about him raping me at work
"Oh god," I think in my head behind my gagged mouth and atop my bound neck, "the third compartment is nearly full..." He shuts off the water, I know what's coming. The test strip confirms, and he mockingly reads it to me, holding it in my face, "Three hundred and sixty nine parts per million, should be almost enough to clean you out, you filthy slut." He grabs me by the collar to haul me off the floor, I try not to fight back because it always makes it harder to hold my breath for the twenty excruciating minutes it takes him to finish. Today he shoves me harder, my head goes under and a terrifying amount of air is forced out of me. Oh well, maybe I won't have to be conscious this time. At least he can't kill me, because we're at work and the body would be too difficult to hide. He pulls me back up, I gasp for air just as I feel him enter me. I feel all of my organs crumple between his cock and the cold, metal sink basin. "You like that?" he asks. I don't respond, whatever I say wouldn't matter anyway. "I think you still need to be cleaned," is all I hear before going back under. My breath is impossibly difficult to hold as each thrust forces it out of me in painfully large bubbles that fizzle to the surface of the solution as he fucks me into semi consciousness. Groggy, I'm lucid again, head above the surface but with him still deep inside me. He takes the roughly sawed off red hose from the wall, I relax my throat as quickly as I can before it plunges down my esophagus and the solution begins to flow, making the fresh, stinging cuts from the insertion of rough plastic throb as I'm pumped full. I try to scream around the tube, but I can already feel how full of sanitizer I am.
"You wanted me to change the sanitizer rag, huh, bitch? Guess who's the sanitizer rag now!" His strokes have reached the rhythm and pace now where I know he's close, maybe it'll be over before I legitimately drown. "Let's get you good and saturated, sanitizer fag! Say it! You're a worthless little sanitizer fag!"
"Ihhmm fuh fanififer ff-- ff- ffgghh," I manage to moan around the hose with spurts of solution spilling from the edges of my mouth. He removes the tube with one hand, and forces his other hand down my throat immediately after. Sanitizer gushes out around the thick hairs that cover his powerful arms, well muscled from years of pulling shots. I had no idea he could fit this much of them so far down my throat. He pulls out, along with a test strip that's turned a bright, blue-green. At the thought of how saturated I now am, he fills me up with his solution from behind too.
"You soak me up so well, sanitizer fag. I know you'll be back begging for more at 2pm, since you're always so fucking prompt about getting it filled up. Make sure you wipe up your mess". It's always nice for my hard work to be recognized, I guess. He walks away, leaving me limply slumped over the sink for the dishwasher to find and unbind me. I hope he doesn't want a turn today, too, but I guess that would be my job as the sanitizer fag. Maybe I am nothing more than a sanitizer fag, if he thinks I'm so good at it.
chih... with a dih...
lesbians just absolutely body men every single time
getting killed by geese makes me feel in ways no music has made me feel since ants from up there by bc,nr 🥺🥺
Do you guys also have a friend who just seems to be perpetually trapped in the torture nexus? Because shout out to them, they deserve nice things too
This post seems to be a real hit with transfems, wonder why...
they remembered it as a fun, innocent moment of fun at the beach. i remembered it as evidence of me being the world's biggest creep and taker of things too far. dear lord. i literally imagine myself being dangerous. i can't keep doing that.