...was my first thought when I read the quoted text, first though, let me start out with an introduction:
Back in the days when I played a lot DotA I naturally came across a whole bunch of sites related to this topic, I've constributed (just one example) to the community in several ways on several forums, even been a ban-mod on the shortlived DotA-Client before 13lizzfall disappeared (apparently he had family related issues) and when my popularity topped, I got known as a destroyer of worlds and spell check programs.
Now for todays text, originally found on dxd.gamebend.com (forums have been moved/deleted) and now only preserved as a quote from my old blog, is about a poor guy and his issues with sex, as back then I will, without further ado let you get to it, enjoy!
Sex Addict
"I'm a bit gone righ tnow. Forgive me if this is written poorly.
I was gone for a month or two from this scene and some of you might have wondered where I went. I got stuck in shit.
I could easily just post this in my blog, but I know too many people personally that read that shit. I also don't want this seen by any women mentioned here since some of them are avid readers. I generally am doing this to avoid drama, but I still feel that this is something that I want to tell.
Here is what my story is:
I was in a moral crisis. I became addicted to sex and I started having intercourse with any girl I could get my hands on. Fat, tall, skinny, or short, ugly, beautiful, normal, or marginally acceptable, I didn't give a fuck about who I got it on with. I wanted to have sex all the time and I did. For the times I couldn't get a chick legit, I drove out and fucked a hooker. I even tried going to asian massage parlors to get my shit on. It was fucking pathetic and sick, but I still did it because I was addicted to it. I couldn't break away from it. Every second I fucking thought about it and the blood boiled in my veins for it.
The story behind that pretty much starts here..
Before high school, I was a kid pretty much stuck up on sex. I wanted to get laid so bad and I wanted to hit almost every girl at school and saw potential in every chick. The possibilities were LIMITLESS!!! I knew I had good looks since girls had always flirted with me since a young age so I started the mission that oh so many men are familiar with at the age of 10 in the 5th grade. I got several "girlfriends" throughout this time and I could never seem to accomplish my mission. This went on for a few years until finally 7th grade. I got a girl that was crazy about me and I was tolerant of her. She wasn't great looking; in fact, I would never show her face to anyone alive or associated with me in anyway for the fear of it being brought up at my wedding. She was a nice girl though. Bubbly personality, caring attitude, and a knack for humor. She was my first. I kind of just suggested it in a really indirect way one day at her house (I'm not going to say her parents weren't home like every other story because they fucking weren't and to this day I don't know whether or not they heard us. So fucking awkward whenever I happen to visit their house) by saying, "Man, I'm bored. I wish we had something to do..." And she responded with, "Well... What do you have in mind?" And then I leaned over and kissed her like I had always done in the past, but she interpreted it the way I had hoped. I won't go into detailed on underaged sex, but let me say, it was slow, it was awkward, but most of all, it was my first. I broke up with her about a month after and got with her more attractive friend about 3 days later (I hadn't learned the whole "being in other people's shoes" thing at that point in life yet). Me and her are still friends though. We talk every now and then though as time has progressed, our distance has grown. It isn't a bad thing though. She has her life and I have mine. Last time I spoke with her was about half a year ago. She had a boyfriend and he seemed like a nice guy. But yea, I fucked her best friend as well, but it took me a lot longer for her to put out. For the first, it was about 1 1/2 months, for the new one, it took over 5 months. By the time we had sex, the school year was already over and I was pissed off because I felt I had missed other opportunities during that interm. When we did it, it was nothing like the first time. I was pissed off at her and I kind of wanted her to suffer in a really fucking twisted sort of way. I knew she was a virgin and I knew the first time would hurt (Not saying I'm huge. I'm actually probably below average... Ha ha, stupid asian.. Yea I know, I've heard it over a thousand times...) Anyway, I started nailing her and she let out a small heave from the unexpected discomfort. She told me to slow down a little, but instead I just straight up jammed it in and started pumping her. She let out a sudden gasp of air from the shock and asked me to stop. I kept going for another 20 seconds until her pleas reached the level of high pitched screams. It was like I was raping her, and I felt great about it at the time. I somewhat bad about it later on that day, but for the wrong reasons. I was pissed that she might break up with me and I wouldn't get to hit it anymore with her. To my surprise, when I called her the next day to give her the recycled apology, she told me that she wasn't mad at what I did because I must have really wanted it and really liked her so I wasn't able to control myself. She was so fucking dumb.
I continued fucking her until her dumb-bitch personality drove me to the edge. I started ignoring her and not picking up the house phone because I knew she was calling. It was sad really, instead of breaking up with me, she decided that she needed me more than ever to comfort her from my abandonment (Ironic isn't it?). Needless to say, it didn't go well. She became really dependent on me and crying at school almost everyday for like a fucking week. She finally broke up with me and proceeded to take on the role as the last girl I would ever have sex with for the next 6 years. The next year, it was still the same school and the same girls, but I was a different guy.
And then puberty progressed and I calmed down a bit. I started thinking about issues I had with my family. Growing up my dad always called me worthless and beat the fuck out of me all the time. Everytime he got drunk at home with was like twice a week, he would start beating on my sisters and mom. I would always step in and have him start beating on me instead. At the time, I never fought back. I was too weak to fight back. My arms were so much smaller than his, my reflexes were so much slower and hesitant, and he was in such a drunk stupor, there was no way he would feel pain. As I grew up, he continued drinking and the whole process would repeat everytime. Every morning after the chaos, my dad would stir awake and get dressed for his shitty job where he had to more or less, symbolically suck cock for a living. He hated his job, but it was the only job he could do. Sucked for him and he wanted to make it suck for the rest of us. His drunk aftermath was never any different, he would kick my mom awake and tell her to make breakfast and my sisters would angrily force me out of bed despite the pain for us to go eat out of fear of him getting pissed of. He would sit at the table and chomp loudly while the rest of us sat there eating quietly. He would look around and see everyone. Stare at them. Study them. He would eventually fall onto me and see my face: The bruises, the cuts, and the intense hate burning in the eyes. He would pretend he saw nothing and move on. Get out of the house and drive to work.
Academically it was no different, he would let everyone know that other people were better and we were the absolute worst. The only way to get better was to be better. Work harder. If there isn't a 10/10 on the quiz, your life fucking sucks. If it doesn't I'll make sure it does.
Maturing brought all that back into my life. I started feeling incredibly inadequate and soon became a recluse afraid of people. Especially women. In my early life, women had never been there for me, they only caused me pain and troubles, and I was always the one having to take all the blame and pain. I began having fantasies and wishes. They wouldn't be anything sick and stuff. They'd be with girls that I hardly knew in school. We would be together and happy. She would love me and I would love her and we would just spend the days laying in bed together and staring out the window. I suppose my desire at the time wasn't to have sex anymore, but to find a soulmate. Someone who was meant for me. Someone that was a perfect match. Someone that I could get along with. The problem was that it would always be girls I didn't know that took the roles of my fantasies and they would eventually drive me to make contact with them. Meet them. Know them. Pow. Leave. I always found a flaw, something wrong with the picture that didn't make it perfect in my eyes and caused me to throw it away. I would then move the role for the heroine of my dreams onto another stranger. I hated sex. I realized suddenly how empty I felt and I blamed it on the sex. I had lost my values and the empty feeling inside was my body's sudden hunger to have them back. I felt devoid of any emotion inside. It was so painful that I wanted to kill myself at times from the sadness it caused me, but that's not relevant to the story.
This went on for years and through those years I made several more girlfriends throughout 8th grade. They would be short little childish flings with hand holding and shy kissing but nothing serious like a blowjob. These relationships lasted for around 3 days to 2 weeks. I would always break up. There was something wrong with me now. It wasn't that the girls wouldn't put out, it was that I wasn't looking for them to. The fact that they made it so easy made me not want to do it. I hated how easily the girl just gave in. I wanted one that would put up a fight, would not be intimidated by me, would respect me as I would respect her. I was looking for a relationship. I began going after girls that had no interest in guys at the time. They would always put up a big fight due to their immaturity. I would always try my hardest to get them like I was obsessed with them. I would buy them things, do romantic shit, and the works. Eventually, whether it was an actual attraction to me as a guy, or whether they just liked being treated so fancy, they fell for me. I hated it and threw them away. I fucking wanted a girl that wouldn't fall for me. That wouldn't treat me nice. I wanted a girl that didn't exist and I wanted to search for her if it took the rest of my life.
This mentality went on for the rest of my junior high and through high school. I would grab girls and date them for a short period but always find something wrong in order to throw them away. They were not perfect, they were not meant for me, they were not my soulmate.
I graduated with everyone in my group thinking I was a virgin since I would always tell them I wasn't having sex with the girls I was dating. I didn't want them to know. I was ashamed of my past. How would I ever get a girl that had the same values as me on what they were looking for? If I wanted a pure girl, I had to be pure myself. Stupid, I know, but at the same time, so naive and innocent.
I went onto college, and that's where it ended. My search had finally found my treasure. This year (My sophmore year), I met the girl of my dreams and she seemed to have found the guy of hers. She was a smart, sweet, smalltown girl. She was everything I was looking for. We finally got together and we dated for over 2 months while I was in college. Once again, I did not introduce her to any of my friends. I was a completely different person with others: A cold-hearted, blunt, and rude guy with a sadistic sense of humor. Basically, "that guy that challenges an already drunk man to shot just so that he will puke in front of the girl he has a crush on." Yea... THAT guy.
With her, I opened up. I became myself. I showed her what I really was. A reliable, responsible, and caring guy that wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. I leaned on her and she leaned on me. We respected each other's space and privacy, and she was exactly what I wanted in a girl. We stopped dating and officially became a couple a little while after I told her that I thought we were meant for each other. We finally did end up having sex and it felt so great. Not physically, but emotionally, it felt great. I was so happy to be having sex with the woman I was in love with and I knew she was happy to be with me. Her joy caused my joy to heighten and my joy did the same for hers until finally we were above the clouds.
And then 2 more months passed by with this great feeling.
And then I found out she was cheating on me.
And we broke up.
She didn't consider it cheating though, she just felt I was too clingy and wanted to explore her options. I suppose I was clingy. I did love her though. I think I still do a little despite what she put me through.
I pretty much regressed to my previous state of depression. Before, I had been a heavy drug user ranging from weak substances like pot and cigarettes to more heavier things like meth, cocaine, and hard liquor. I had a serious substance abuse problem in high school and I managed to break away and quit down to only drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. The reason I did it was for the hopes of filling the empty void that had developed throughout the years. This void came back after she left. It was bigger and it at least a million times deeper. I felt terrible and I just wanted drugs to forget the feelings. I didn't want to feel good, I just wanted to stop feeling terrible. That's where meth is a great drug for and lucky me, Riverside was the location of the most meth labs and dealers. It didn't take me long to find someone that slanged and I began doing meth all the time. I did it when I woke up, when I went to school, and even while taking shits. I know what you guys are thinking, why the fuck would you go to school and do meth? I don't fucking know. I wanted to get caught. I wanted to get expelled and arrested. I fucking wanted my life to end. I had nothing left. I had invested everything on that girl. My hopes and dreams that humanity wasn't full of endless misery, my dad wasn't right about my life and I would be happy someday, and I had a soulmate out there that fate would guide me to.
Needless to say, I would go into empty school restrooms and sit in a stall and lit my shit. The smoke alarms must have fucking blown, cuz the smoke I made didn't fucking alert shit. I didn't even go to class, I would just walk aimlessly around campus doing nothing but being a fucking idiot. This went on for two quarters, and surprisingly enough, I still managed to pass both quarters with a 2.7 and a 3.1. I just got high, got drunk, spent some days walking around school, other days walking around the city, and spend the whole night up playing computer games and surfing the internet and watching porn. I began to obsess about sex again. I felt angry that I had been fooled by sex. I had come to believe that I was in love due to how great the sex felt for me emotionally. Sex tricked me and I let myself get tricked. I was angry and I felt pathetic for being fooled. I was pretty insane at the time so I came up with some crazy conspiracy theory that I won't go into because it makes no fucking sense, but it caused me to come to the conclusion that the only way everyone on earth could be happy was by having them all feel sad to share the same emotion so I wanted every girl to fall in love with me and I wanted to break their hearts and souls, but secretly, looking at it in retrospect, I just really wanted to have sex. I wanted to remember how happy I once felt. I was chasing the happiness I had felt only such a short time ago. I felt dead inside and I was searching for a way to feel alive again.
Around the last two months of school starting in April, I began my escapades and started going out to nightclubs and hitting up every chick I could get. The first few nights were cold but finally on the 4th consecutive night, I managed to bring a decent looking and fairly drunk chick back to my place. I fucking stripped her and fucked her as hard as I could. That was the 4th girl of my life that I had sex with: A half-conscious drunk korean girl with a cheap skirt/top and smeared make-up. The next morning I got out of bed and got dressed and headed to campus to follow my daily routine of aimless walking and occasional visits to lecture. She was still laying there when I left. When I got back, she was gone. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen, air was blowing in through the window that somebody had opened and it looked like my bathroom towel had been used by someone. I was able to put two and two together: A ninja broke into my room through the window and kidnapped her, but not before taking a shower first and using my towel as a show of disrespect. Yes. I seriously thought that first. This is why you don't smoke pot kids.
Anyway, later on that night, I was going to go to the club and she called me. Apparently, at some point during the night when I was asleep, she got up to use the bathroom and grabbed my cellphone and dialed her number to add me (Oh that's good. I was kind of afraid that she hadn't consented last night anyway...). She wanted to hang out and I thought that getting sex from her was better than blowing another 35 bucks to get into the club and trying my luck. She wasn't terrible looking. Marginally acceptable. Marginally acceptable.....
So I we met up at a restaurant and I paid for her meal. We talked about where we were from and our lives. She was a UC drop-out and she was living nearby the community college taking classes while trying to get back into university. She wasn't from around here and had a boyfriend back home (What a slut. I'd fucking stab her if I was him. She didn't tell me this at the time, but I eventually found out a while after that she had been seeing someone the same time we fucked).
So I ended up paying the bill and we both drove back to her house and fucked in the room with 1 mm thick walls while her 4 roommates shuddered in disgust.
I started talking to her friends and getting to know them. After a week, me and the club girl stopped fucking and talking alltogether and I started hanging with her friends instead. They were really open about sex and I fucked as many as I could get my hands on. After a while, they started getting busy with finals week approaching, but I still wanted to fuck. They said they were too busy to go out, and some were starting to avoid my calls out of how much I was itching to nail them I suppose. I started going to strip clubs and coxing the girls to suck me off for extra cash. I finally got the balls to ask a girl back home but she awkwardly turned me down. I think she thought I was a pig or something. I kept going and asking other girls and none of them said yes. I suppose the first stripper told her friends her suspicions about me because I know that those bitches are down for anything if an extra 100 and a handsome guy is involved. Superficial fucks.
The owner finally ended up asking me to stop coming because the girls were afraid of me. I got ticked off and tried my next endeavor: massage parlor. I always heard rumors about those asian slave girls being fuck dolls for you at a shady asian place so I decided to give it a try. I went to yellowbooks and looked up a closeby parlor and drove to it. I asked for a massage from a girl and I asked if I could pick the girl. They said no. Fuck it. I went into this stuffy and sweat smelling room (A good sign) and waited there for like 20 fucking god damn minutes. Finally a fucking hideous troll came in and told me to lay on the table with cushion on top. It wasn't even one of those massage tables where you put your head between a spot. It was like a ratty wooden table that was clearly cut with like a hardware saw and shitty spongy cushion with dark, dirty spots showing where other guys had laid their ass-cheeks to get their fuck on taped over it. I honestly felt a bit repulsed and I wanted to leave, but at the same time I told myself, "This could be it, You never know, You might feel happy this time around." Fuck it. I laid on that cushion and waited for that lady to do her stuff.
Do you know what she did?
Well do ya?
She fucking massaged me.
Just like I fucking paid her to do.
I was so fucking pissed off. I went and got my fucking whole mind ready for the giant induce vomiting battle I was about to have, and instead, it didn't even have to be fought.
I went back home feeling pretty shitty still despite the massage (By the way, I'd just like to say right now, that even though you might get decent sex at an asian massage parlor, you will NEVER get a decent massage. I say this based on experience). I immediately went online and read any guide I could find on the matter and tried again that same day but at a different place. I was actually successful this time around and I got to pick the girl. She was some sad fragile looking chick that looked like she had been promised freedom but granted lifetime in a cage instead. She didn't know a fucking word of english and just blabbered korean whenever I said something in english. I pretended I didn't understand even though I did and I kept saying shit like, "fucking whore, scream like a whore." and "say you want to suck my cock." generally retarded sadistic sexual slurs. I went to the same parlor and fucked the same girl for over a week. It cost me 80 bucks a go and I probably blew easily over a thousand that week usually visiting the place about 3-4 times a day. I wasn't only fucking her, I was grabbing street hookers in the red light district since the parlor closed at 9. She began saying different shit as I fucked her more often. She first said things like "Me Yan Hae Yo (Sorry)." and "Na ga young ah do mot ah da dul ya (I don't know no engrish)" (That's the last time I type pseudo korean. Fucking waste of my time) but after a bit she began opening up since she assumed I didn't understand shit. She asked me if I loved her with a chuckle and said she might be falling in love with me, she told me shit along the lines of: this isn't what I signed up for but I look forward to your visits, and said shit about missing her family and wondering where they were. Frankly, I got sick of it. I fucked her for the last time and I gave her a big hug and stuck my tongue down her throat. We had never kissed before that. It was just fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. No foreplay, nothing. She seemed surprised and taken aback, but she didn't stop me. I gave her a big forced smile and told her in korean that I hoped she would find a way out of this life and told her I was never coming back. I walked through the doors of the parlor and back out to the world.
I continued fucking and blowing all of my scholarship/fafsa money on hookers. I just didn't want to see that girl anymore. I know I could have fucked a different bitch, but I just felt guilty about making her have feelings for me. I didn't know what to do. I mean, it was my original intention to make people feel the same abandonment that I felt, but now that I had achieved it, I felt even more empty inside. I called up old friends and started having talks. I started going over where my life had been and where it was now headed. They tried to show concern, but seemed in too much shock to comprehend everything. I knew I wasn't going to get anything useful from them. On the second to last day of the quarter, I fucked a hooker in my car and after she left, I started sobbing and breaking down. See, the last time I did that was when I was 14 and had a knife to my throat. I chickened out and started crying in frustration and promised myself I'd never cry again. I make shitty promises. I was too scared of killing myself and I was afraid of what others would think. Isn't that pathetic? Worried about what people say and think about you when you're fucking dead. Hahaha.
So I sat their sobbing for about 10 minutes. I wanted to just drive my car off of a fucking cliff. I finally fixed myself up and sat in my car chain smoking and staring at nothing for hours.
I made up my mind after a while. I decided to kill myself. I knew I would probably be too chicken shit to drive off a mountainside or something dramatic like that, so I decided to go out quietly. I wanted to get a hose and put it in my exhaust and put the other end through my window and turn on the engine, but I didn't have a garden hose. Seriously, why would I fucking have a garden hose in college? I knew no hardware stores were open at 3 fucking AM in the morning and I didn't want to wait so I decided to go back to my place and stick my head in the oven. After carefully studying my oven back at my apartment, I realized it was electric. Fail.
I eventually decided that getting really drunk and hanging myself was the best solution. I poured myself a full dixie cup of vodka and chugged the entire thing down (See, I always wanted to try it and I was always afraid of the consequences i.e. alcohol poisoning, brain damage, but hey, I'm going to die so FUCK IT!). I grabbed my longest belt and tied one end to my shower curtain rod (it's pretty thick and strong enough for me to do pull up's on so I was like hey, it should work for suicide as well!) and then I looped my belt in and fit it around my neck. I knew if the belt was too long I wouldn't hang over the ground, so I made it pretty short and accepted suffocating to death over just having my neck snap from the jump. I just walked off with about 2-4 inches and my feet hung about 2 inches off the ground. I proceeded to go unconscious after about 2 minutes of choking badly.
I should be dead.
I really should.
But I'm not.
I woke up the next day in bed. I was a bit dazed and my mouth tasted like I had puked. I suddenly realized it wasn't my bed. I looked around and I realized it wasn't my room. I was in a hospital.
Apparently about 3 minutes after I went unconscious, my roommate had awoken from my choking sounds and come inside my room to see if I was ok. He found me hanging and quickly lifted my body up so I could breath and called for my other roommate. During the wait, my body's gag reflex or breathing (I honestly have no clue) caused me to retch and cover his head with chicken sandwich chunks, vodka, and blood. He took it like a champ.
Anyway, they got me down and called the ambulance. They ended up having to pump my stomach for alcohol poisoning and put me on suicide watch. Over the next few days, people came to visit me non-stop and even more called. friends, family, and past relationships all came to see how I was doing and what caused me to try to kill myself. For the most part, I had told no one about my problems and the most I had opened up was probably to a hooker during sex and the one time I called my old friends and told them what was going on a few days before the event. The people I called dropped by and called me a moron for not telling them what bad shape I was in (Oh really, I didn't tell you eh? Faggots). In all honesty, the concerns of others didn't make me feel much better; in fact, the fact that their love wasn't reaching me made me feel even more empty and hurt. I wanted to die because I felt like I didn't belong on earth. After a while, (School had already gone out) I got let out of the hospital but I had court orders saying I had to join a suicide community or someshit like that. I still haven't gone to a single meeting... The stupid place is in Riverside, and I moved back to Los Angeles for the summer... Really, you expect me to drive 3 fucking hours everday for two weeks to attend a fucking 2 hour session? Jokes. You've got jokes judge.
Anyway, I know some of you might be thinking, how the fuck did you get better? Well, in all honesty, I still haven't gotten better. I'm still in bad shape emotionally, but I'm way better off than I was a month ago. I am still not clean, but I am working hard on it and attending groups to get help. I quit once and I can do it again, but that's irrelevant and just talk as far as the reader is concerned. The real push that put me back on the right track was the news. I really didn't believe in God up untli this point and faith, but what happened seemed to be beyond coincidence. During my second day at the hospital, I was feeling pretty morbid and thinking of how to discreetly kill myself when I heard the afternoon news playing in another room and something caught my attention and caused me to turn on my own TV and watch: During the intro summary, the anchor mentioned how Riverside PD had busted a series of illegal brothels in the area. I waited for 20 fucking minutes of watching bullshit local garbage and commercials, but they finally got down to it. They didn't mention any names so I didn't know which ones, but the story said that a lot of underground asian massage parlors had been busted for housing illegal immigrants and forcing them into prostitution. They had been busted open and shut down. I waited for the news to say what happened to the girls, but they never got down to it and went to the next commercial. Now, I would have checked online, except that I was like fucking tied down to a bed with people watching me 24/7 so I wasn't allowed near any sharp objects (Oh yea, mouse and keyboard sharpest object on planet ya know... Idiots....). I ended up asking one of the nurses if she knew what happened to the immigrants and she said they get shipped back to their original country unless they manage to obtain refugee status which rarely happens.
I more or less assumed that the massage girl I had fucked had been taken out of that terrible shit hole and sent back to Korea to be given a second chance. Was she north or south? I have no idea, I really feel bad for her if she is north, but he dialect didn't sound like it from the few words she occasionally muttered.
............................... Actually, fuck it....
School finally ended and I headed back home in terrible shape, but better off that I was before and back on the right track. The End."
Sometimes you stumble upon so messed up you simply have to read it and learn from other people's mistakes, in my humble opinion, this is one of them. He don't talk much about it in the text, but I'm a huge fan of safe sex!
I personally approve of these condoms.
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