Draw it on, and draw it thick. Thicker than black, and nothing to lack. Dress yourself up, with no where to go. 10.9.8. & i'm ready to show. I'm breaking away. With a pallor as white as a ghost; tell me now where are you my ghoulish gore host? im ready to kill. kill. kill. With the corset pulled tighter; as tight as i'll pull you, these bonds won't hold any longer, so please, wouldn't you.. pull it stronger? Lace them up and strap them on, lick my boots, my little loved one. Patent and dareing, it's begging for you..so trail on up, so i can meet you too. Latex hugging closer, no room to breathe, you want to touch.. why don't you just come on and fuck? Walking around, with a thump and a stomp, im ready to dance; it's time to trance. So i'll tear you away, and pull you over; stare you down and bring you closer. With a passion burned brightly underneath those eyes; they're darkened and sultry, waiting for my surprise. I'll kiss you still, you're just my pill..i whisper in your ear, i'm ready for another kill.. So don't wait up; push me down. Take me up, just to bring me down. Tear if off, rip it to shreds..im waiting for things, that can't seem to be said. But don't say a word, not right now. Just kiss me here, and kiss me now. Make it hard, but not so quick, ive got the time, if you're not that sick. So decode this for me, and bring it back..i want these doors..all painted black. i'll push you down, as the blood pours over, our breaths aligned, and each of us entertwined. Pull me here, and do it hard, make me scream..just make me plead. i want the gore, of love long past, and you want the whore of love tossed in the trash. im standing right here, waiting for you to play.. i'm just a little dark doll, ready for you today. Dress me up, just to tear it all off, touch me here, this skin so soft. im ready to fucking play. 7.6.5.4. and i'm all over you, bringing this gore, and bringing you more. Don't be slow, bring me down just to show.. you know i like this.. dark and low...

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It's easy.

But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you'll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there's still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it always happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of those qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable.

You will remember having conversations with this person that never actually happened. You will recall sexual trysts with this person that never technically occurred. This is because the individual who embodies your personal definition of love does not really exist. The person is real, and the feelings are real--but you create the context. And the context is everything.

The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they're often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.


-Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live