Everyone here is either an asshole or a freak. At this point, I'm not going to count myself immune to this judgment. I've got a doctor on my arm and a local middle school math teacher might as well be my walking, talking shadow. Not to mention I'm not dressed for this sort of shit; people are dressed well, so are they, and I've got tan slacks, white shirt, blazer, shoes, like I'm going to circle-jerk with a bunch of middle-aged franchise owners after we talk about our divorces. It's hot in here and I fucking need air. Leaning against a railing, drink in hand, enjoying the night. I know a thing or two about perverts and fixations. Seen shit that makes folks' hair stand on end while someone involved begged for more as sweet as can be. My problem isn't with the gratification, it's with the simpering, the begging. There's a difference between an absence of shame and being shameless and these people are shameless. I understand why. I don't approve but I understand: because what they're all focused on there isn't real. It doesn't make sense. Yet here it is, irrefutable, outside under the waves, and it's crossing their wires and making them all think with their pricks and pussies. The priest is fixated on trying to define the nature of evil and if this thing is evil. The couple just want to dress up and screw about it because if you can't have a kid, why not make the year better. The dancer might as well be Jeffrey Dahmer if he was a worthless bottom who needed his zombie slave to rule his life and be his god. The "Satanists", the gossip, the fascist, the anarchist...it's all like going to your first orgy and realizing that the human body is, first and foremost, a physical thing beholden to disgusting laws of biology. The idea of the orgy is an enticing erotic fantasy, the reality is complicated and often off-putting. If you're at the pervert convention and nobody around looks normal, you might be a pervert too. All worthless fantasists. Even the pervert I love. Even me. https://thecoffin.club