just like two nights ago when grasping out at /r/BodyWriting thirstily, the familiar internal violence of self-hatred abandons attacks on my thoughts, my self as i refocus its aim. i almost taunt it with my body and the laughable possibility of sex. the emotion runs rampant and i know it is more dangerous than the sex drive i have neither experience nor desire in limiting, restricting. sex is petty and unimportant.

mind you, this is the libido that feels safe (from a certain point of view) with rape, blackmail, dangerous toys and broadly permissive acceptance of playmates... (you must be this scary or greater to use this ride.)

does it matter to anyone if it leads me to rape and ruin? does it change anything that bleeding is a bonus, not a problem, re: being fucked in the ass or abused physically? all it means is that i will not end up alone in a dark, quiet place with nothing to feel but numb.

tl;dr ...fat ugly stupid trans girl embraces a fucked up sexuality to choose a damaged life over a numb, boring existence.

...what would you do if the only thing to limit you is you because she does not care?