violence leads to wanting sex which leads to fucked up dreams
December 02, 2003 � 9:21 p.m.
First Entry Today
Last night I watched three good movies in a row. I watched Sleepers, The Crow, and Natural Born Killers.
If you are tallying up the time in your head, yes, that was over 5 � hours of movies that I laid around and watched last night�ALONE�meaning boys and girls (and I hate to be the one to tell you this) that I do not have a fucking life at all.
* sigh *
Anyway�
I watched these movies and I noticed to my horror (for more reasons than one), that I get turned on by violence. Revenge, mob hits, sword fights, explosions, speed, sick twisted relationships, and warped ideas of love turn me WAY the fuck on. I was swimming in an overdose of hormones, troubled by my sudden state of horniness, and really glad that I got that new TV and dvd/vcr player in my room for some alone time later�when it hit me�I am strange.
I mean, I�ve always known I was a bit off the beaten path, but I have completely veered away from any feasible path into the land of irrationality.
I get turned on by violence but can�t stand scary movies. I find being a mob wife more rational than falling in love with the boy next door. Running from the cops is a good thing. Swords and masks are our friends. Back flipping from one building to another through a hailstorm of bullets, landing, and perfectly shooting all of those in your way while doing it and not getting one scratch is possible. Scantily dressed women that are handy with weapons and vindictiveness are sexy as hell. Falling in love with a murderer that will kill anyone that comes near you is a sign of everlasting love. Fighting/ killing scenes set to opera or beautiful childhood songs are the best fucking scenes ever!!
Yeah�you get the point. I am one sick bitch.
I have no point for confessing this. Just another piece of the puzzle known as moi.
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Speaking of being puzzled�how the fuck did I have a dream last night about fucking Swiz, kissing Jenny, and then lying in bed with Cowboy writing notes back and forth to each other?!?!
Cunt say what?!?!
The part with Swiz was hazy. We had sex�at least I think so�and we were laying in my bed while I rubbed him down and sang to him. He started singing back and flipped over onto his back, pulled me into his arms, covered my face with kisses, and whispered, �Love�.
The part with Jenny wasn�t that odd, actually. We were laying on the floor in her room in the dark, smoking and making shadow puppets on the wall. Her puppet ate my puppet and we started laughing. We turned towards each other and she fell into my arms. I held her tight. I said, �Love you,� and she looked up, smiled, and kissed me.
The part with Cowboy was just plain fucking strange. We were lying in his bed naked and I was facing him. We didn�t say anything, and there wasn�t anything sexual about it, though he kept reaching over to touch my hair, kiss my forehead, and smile at me. I wrote that I hated him and I was glad I was rid of him and gave him the note. He frowned and wrote back that saying that was harsh. I wrote that he was a selfish asshole that deludes himself into believing that he rules the chaos when really it rules him and he is afraid of living life so he drains life from those that care for him and gave him the note. He frowned and asked why I was being so mean. I wrote back that he didn�t break my heart because I had never really given him my heart, but that fact the he thought he had my heart and tried to destroy me anyway was unforgivable and I would wait until I see him happy and then kill him in his sleep. I laughed as I handed it to him and he started to cry. I sat up and he spoke. �Why are you so sad, babe?� he said. I looked at him and said �Whenever have you known me to be happy?� I shook out my hair and he touched my back. �Do you love?� he asked. I turned to glare at him. �Do you regret?� he asked as he reached for my hand. �I love�I love�I love�that�s all I know how to do.� I said. �I�m so sorry. You love him very much. And I love you very much. Will you forgive me? Can you love me?� I looked at him and laughed right in his face. I pulled my hand away and walked away from him laughing. �I could never love anything as pathetic as you,� I spat at him. �I love only the thought of your complete destruction.� I laughed harder but as I looked at him, I started to cry.
Then I woke up.
Can anyone say therapy?