tear this motherfucking roof off like two dogs caged
I was playing in the beginning, the mood all changed
She finally moved all her stuff out. The rest of it that she’d left here. I got home at 11. It’s 2am. I’ve not stopped crying. I feel selfish because I know there’s far more worse off than me. Maybe now I can start moving on? I hate that I miss her.
why am i saying this again?
If you hate men and choose every moment you can find to pick holes in them, it doesn’t make you a feminist. That’s not the definition of feminism and you branding your sexism under it is literally damaging. It damages the very clear beliefs that women should be afforded equality, should be seen on the same level as men in the work place, in a bar, on the street, in all media and represented in our government because women ARE on the same level as men. You trying to infer feminism is something else makes people who already scoff at women’s rights see feminists as ridiculous and allow the mockers to feel they can dismiss genuine concerns with your trivial bullshit.
Today I had a barrage from someone claiming to be a victim and said that’s what feminism is and why she is one!
What the fuck?!?!
Feminism is not about playing the victim.
Feminism is not about hating men.
Feminism is not about imposing sexist points of view on matters purely because you feel like it.
If you wish to pick holes in my life and more specifically the fact that I’ve slept with a lot of women then guess what? You have a point. You could speak with me, ask questions and you’d likely see that I’m not a womaniser. I’m not a misogynist. I have never treated women with contempt or as lesser beings, I just like sex and there was a time I didn’t want a relationship. The same goes for women who like sex but want to stay single, they are not misandrists. Feel free to take issue with someone seeking a plethora of sexual partners for whatever reason you choose. Sexism or some perfected male dominance is not what I was doing. If I were gay and slept with men in this fashion would you believe I hated men? Would you believe me to be a misandrist? No. And here’s the truth. Here’s what you should really ask.
"Did sleeping with many people make you truly happy?" Because that’s the really fucking interesting question.
I can honestly say, I enjoyed myself. It was fun and I had a great time. Meeting someone, flirting, the two of us making little advances towards getting into a bed together and then having sex was great. I can also honestly say I never enjoyed sex as much as when I’ve had some relationship and communication. Outside of a relationship is less fulfilling. That’s the truth but now as a single man, I’m fairly comfortable doing the whole meaningless sex thing again. I haven’t yet but doesn’t mean I won’t.
Back to the people claiming to be feminist. You depress me.
Today is the birthday of Emmeline Pankhurst. Today is also a day I had an argument with a woman attempting to belittle the work the suffragettes did without even knowing it. Everybody, each and everyone of us has a fucking duty to actually think before we speak. The things you say and do, hurt. They have repercussions and if you insist on flying one causes flag but demand something else you’re no different to a political party like Britains first or UKIP, claiming to wish a return to British values whilst actually seeking racist actions. You look pathetic and besmirch the facts that matter.
I was a feminist but I’d call myself a humanist more and that embraces everything in my opinion. I want equality for all and I don’t need to hear your prejudices simply because you don’t believe that you have any.
Read more books, form a better understanding of yourself and the world and then fucking grow up.
Is it bi-polar if you’re only pretending to be happy? Asking for a friend who wants to know if I’m bi-polar..
single in a technological age
Before my recent venture into heartbreak, depression and an attempt at killing myself, I have never used a dating app.
In the past there was no necessity for one. I simply found a friend, went to a bar/coffee shop/supermarket/open bit of greenery and started talking to women. I may get a number, a kiss and even times sex right there and then. Not a boast but a fact (and a boast). This time however, the selection of friends to hit up a bar with is sparse not to mention the funds with which to enter said bar and enjoy a drink there if no woman of desire around.
Tinder. A friend suggested it. “I’ve fucked two girls on there.” He’s pig ugly and possesses the wit of a small horny virgin so if he was sleeping with women, I have a chance!
My first venture into online dating. As I found the app and started to download it, I swear I felt the clouds above me start to engulf the sky and loom ominously over me. If God were real this would be the moment his voice would boom out “Don’t do it! You meet women all the time, just sleep with them. You’re pathetic.” But as he doesn’t exist, the voice was mine. I had a point.
I really haven’t had a problem meeting and picking up women before. Then again I’ve never been properly engaged before. Once at 18 but that wasn’t by real choice. Back then I reacted by fucking everything and it wasn’t a healthy summer to go through for many reasons. Now here I am, a few weeks shy of my 31st birthday. Semi drunk, incredibly horny and nowhere to stick my penis.
I opened the app. Had a moment of pure horror as it asked me to log in via Facebook. Fucking Zuckerberg now wants to know who I’m trying to shag…even he’s judging me. How would this work? Would accepting this mean I am telling the world I am on tinder? Will mother cheeky know of this? All my friends? The women on Facebook I haven’t slept with, surely they’d see this and now think me pathetic. After a reassuring google told me that my Facebook account wouldn’t start leaking all my details out into the world, I went ahead safe in the assumption that my dalliance shall remain covert.
It took less than 30 minutes to get my first match. A 27 year old brunette called Anna. Cute, short, a shot in her bikini suggested that her body was ridiculous and she lives less than 2 miles from me or in terms of London transport, no distance at all. This is important. I’m on tinder because I’m horny, I also don’t have the funds to go crazy on public transport so if I can walk to her place and back, that’s a major plus. A thrifty online dater?! Form an orderly queue ladies! I start chatting “we matched, I’m saying “Hi” what brings you on tinder?” That was over 2 weeks ago, utter radio silence.
What is it Anna? What did I do wrong? Was my opening line boring? Did I offend by asking you to validate your online dating motives? Are you a boring fucker and the prospect of opening a dialogue seems so exciting it seems daunting? Are you a seasoned agoraphobe and worried that you’d have to leave the flat? Trust me, we don’t have to leave your flat! Anna slipped away, Katie was next.
Katie, a pretty 31 year old mixed race woman (not important but then for some reason I felt compelled to include this information? Likely says more about me on some level) again, a stunner and possibly the cutest smile I’ve seen. I thought I’d be a little different…
Hi, answer these…
Red or White wine?
Pasta or Salad?
Winter or Summer?
Shoes or Trainers?
Stay in or Go out?
Sex or Kissing?
Read the book or Watch the film?
She replied, giving answers - she got 5 correct if you’re wondering - we chatted for a bit on and off over the next few hours. That’s when I got her number and got in touch on whatsapp. It was at this point, casually flirting away, I took a look at her picture/avatar/mug shot that we all put on our profile. She looked totally different to the point where I didn’t recognise her. I sent a snap of myself saying “So unlike my pics I’ve not shaved in a few days (depression beard) are we a fan of beards?” Then I followed up with “I’m totally going to need to see yours, no dick pics please ;)” which I believe is the third time I’ve used a “wink” in a message to anyone other than the HMRC. Honestly, filing in a tax self assessment is easily the most fun I have finishing emails with kisses and calling the person reading it a cutie. With Katie however. Nothing. No reply to my beard or comment and certainly no return picture. Her profile went cold and her picture changed to an older, younger Katie within the minute. I like to think I caught her in her ruse, maybe she just isn’t a beard lover?
Two matches down, several others that didn’t reply or just stopped talking. Since when was getting laid such an ordeal? Is this what it’s been like for others all this time, is this the reason I was hated or envied by several men from the past?
Then we had Harriet. No friends in common, something that prods abject horror into me on that infernal site so it was a definite plus. Harriet, 28, very very pretty and only 3 km away…I’ve no idea how to switch back to miles from km…in her spiel she is doing an MSc, is still fairly new to London and most importantly she wrote “Here for some fun if you know what I mean :p” I’ve no idea if the tongue is better than the wink but the rest of it sounds promising. As I’m debating it all she writes to me. An hour later I have her number and arrange to meet her for a drink at 5, which is only an hour away. She arrives, is just as pretty and says in this seriously sexy, husky, posh voice “Thank fuck you look like your pictures.” A sentiment I am equally pleased at. We go for a drink, flirt, she’s incredibly timid for someone so forward. She asks “if you don’t mind can we watch the football a little later?” I’m not sure if she was reading my mind because as I was travelling to meet her, I was devastated when I realised I’d miss the game myself. We watch it, we drink more, she casually strokes my arm or finds any excuse to touch me in general. She eventually says “we’re not far from my place.” this I already knew and that’s why I suggested meeting where we were. We leave the pub, head back towards hers and as we’re walking, edging closer she says “I’m not going to kiss you mind *******!” WHAT? For someone so forward, who’s spent the entire night saying filthy things and being overtly suggestive (there are literally dozens of examples) she now tells me this?! I try to counter attack, “That’s ok, I’ll just settle for a blow job.” She laughs, a good sign I think, then…”Ok. See you then.” and with that she’s gone! I get home to see my ex has put a picture online with her new guy tagged “#Love” and feel a little sick. She’s only been fucking him a Month and a day or two. “Love”? Already?
So now here I am. Back with Tinder. One girl, a nurse, has been messaging me non stop but still hasn’t given me her number. Flirts, teases, is clearly interested but playing the long con and to be fair, I don’t know if I can be bothered with that.
Feel free to call me shallow. I use the app for sex with a pretty girl. I haven’t lied about that and haven’t told anyone I want a relationship or even dating. I’m here to have fun, sex and that’s really it. In all honesty I wouldn’t be good for anyone in any other capacity and a man still without a job and soon without a flat is hardly the ideal catch! Still. The evidence is in, tinder is hard work and unless this one girl decides she wants to meet up I’m swiping left on the whole thing.
Give me some cash, decent clothes, a good friend and a bar any day over this shit!
i can only apologise
I know I went away and since I came back all I’ve done is talk about her. I am sorry. It’s not something I can do in the world where people know me, know who I am and who she is (was?) and I promise you I’ve done it anyway. Talked about her until one friend called me pathetic. So. Without wishing to further alienate everyone, here’s some updates.
* I am starting a new job on the 18th or 21st of July…the 18th will be my birthday.
* I’ve been ruthlessly going through tinder and am currently flirting a lot with one girl in particular.
* Said girl hasn’t yet/refuses to give me her number, but she is still cute and I tease her a lot.
* I’m still drinking but not on my own anymore
* My ex posts pictures of her online with this new guy. He posts a lot more. In his they are kissing. That’s tough to see and tough to ignore.
* She came back to get a bit more of her stuff. I saw her vibrator and a very expensive set of underwear I bought her but never saw her in have gone.
* I’ve not slept with anyone else but really fucking want to.
* I’ve not slept with anyone else but really fucking want to.
* I’ve not slept with anyone else but really fucking want to.
* People are ridiculously nice and it’s appreciated even if it doesn’t quite pierce through my numbness.
* I returned the engagement ring I bought for her but they don’t give a full refund because it is no longer classed as an engagement ring because that’s bad luck since it’s been bought as one already. They refunded me for a friendship ring, which means I got less than half of the amount I paid for it.
* I can still flirt.
* I’m doing my best to find people that find me interesting, funny and ridiculously hot.
* I love you all.
* I don’t want to be in love again for a long time.
* I’m a little worried I may become an utter tart again and push people away.
* I miss my friend.
* I’ve not slept with anyone else but really fucking want to.
I did something stupid. I’ve been in hospital for it and I just feel dumb. I’m a weak weak person and I’ve no idea where to rebuild from or how to start but I know I have to. I feel like a little boy with a million urgent questions but nobody who will answer them…nobody who will offer an answer even though they have it. We all know what sort of egotistical nightmare I have been for years, all my life. I’ve let people in and cared about them, incredibly much but refused to allow them to get too close ever since a girl once lied about being pregnant with my child. I was going to marry her purely out of formality and then never considered marriage as an option. It would be forever consigned as some backward, archaic procedure that only the unoriginal and dumb would consider. I secretly mocked everyone who wanted to marry, who got married. I patronised every one of you that went through with it. Then I met someone who changed all that and made me see what a silly twat I was. I let her in, I left myself truly open, I put myself in a place where I cried in front of her. We shared everything and I ridiculously believed it was mutual. She had problems and I clearly have a million but none of them mattered. I could tell her anything and I never knew that was something I would ever want. I hadn’t ever entertained the thought. Now she’s gone and won’t speak to me. She left me, she told me she wanted a child with me and the next day she was fucking someone else. She is in the wrong and I know this. She treats me as if I’m nothing. She put me in her confidence but now dismisses me if I try to speak. So one night this week I did something stupid because I didn’t want any of this. I just want to be done feeling sorry for myself, not require her approval and stop drinking. London can be the loneliest barren landscape when you saw it all with one other person and they no longer want you to be near them. Friends are busy and I don’t have the money to be out all the time. I find myself living off scraps of kindness and sympathy from others. I want to be done. I never want to love again because I feel fucked up. I have never hurt like this ever before and that’s why I was so stupid. I feel only numb or alone and nothing else. I need a job, I need something to focus on.
Thank you people who have spoken to me. I can’t express how much it should mean but it hasn’t changed my feelings. Hasn’t sparked any emotion within me. I feel selfish when I know people are far worse than me. I mean…come on…I’m a straight white man who is reasonably good looking and will look better if he starts getting more sleep, I’m hardly in the most hard done by demographic. Some of you are going through far far worse and here I am moaning and doing scary, idiotic things to myself and I feel like a selfish fraud.
I just wanted to tell you I’m not alright but thanks to other people I am still here.
i’m sorry to do this
Please. Can somebody give me a job? Can anybody just come hug me till I fall asleep? Can someone stop me talking about her or find a way to help me stop putting it on everyone else? Does anyone know how I can get all my money back for an engagement ring?
When you take back the lies then what do you see?
An angry young man who is straining to breathe,
a feeble aged youth, a frightened poor soul
who is empty and numb and feels nothing at all.
He knows that you hear him and knows you don’t care,
he’s ignored and he’s humbled and he’s constantly there
yet others won’t have him and try as he might
the art of conversing is his toughest fight,
his smile is forced, his lips curled up tight
as he puts on an act of pretending he’s light,
not down, not angry, not even right
but the heartbreaking feeling that he’s out of sight.
Outbursts of laughter and acting absurd
but way down deep down he just longs to be heard
I just want somebody to come around, have sex with me and give me money. Yes, I am fully aware what that would make me.
Rebound sex, assemble!
hey fella, where’ve you been?
It’s been a while, far too drunk to really know how long. I can only apologise for my lack of presence…not sure if you can technically apologise for absence as it’s a passive thing and not being present takes more doing. Well where have I been?
In a relationship.
My dick worked and I got him into a grand total of one female. An intelligent, beautiful female with a tiny waist, great bum and pretty awesome boobs. The bum was more important but the boobs made an impression like no boobs ever have before. I was smitten. Straight away.
We met through work, got chatting, flirted, stayed late one night after work when all were drinking and arranged a date. Met on said date. Kissed. A few days later we had sex and I told you all about it. This was more than just sex. I fell for her before we spoke and so it kills me to say that two days ago she wanted to end it…again.
We first split in December. We were working together incredibly closely and it was too much for her. Then just before Christmas she slept with her ex boyfriend. We weren’t technically together but it was raw. It hurt. I was eaten from the inside of my stomach and I knew it was coming, knew it would happen before it did but was helpless to stop it. She suffers from depression and has spells where she’s not sure of anything including her love for me. So I did what any other amazing guy would do and took her back.
She was ashamed of her actions. She hated him (I could talk for hours of the reasons she has told me how he fucked her over and ruined her life and he really really did) and couldn’t stand him. She was disgusted with what she had done to me. Couldn’t believe she had done it. I loved her, it was easy to take her back.
We next split up a few months later. He was seen on Facebook with a girl who had similar hair or something equally trivial and had commented that he went home with her. Other people had mentioned that this mystery girl looked like his ex, my girlfriend, and he agreed. So she got pissed and talked to him about it…this after telling me she never wanted to speak to him ever again. They got friendly and again she wanted to end it with me. We weren’t in the UK at that time so it wasn’t possible for them to meet but as we spent more and more time in our high pressure environment, she confided more and more in him until he showed he couldn’t be there for her. She saw who he was again and then fell back into remorse for the way she’d treated me.
Now. Present day.
We aren’t working together. She has a new job and I’m unemployed. Her job is taxing. So she has less time for me. This wouldn’t be an issue but she happens to be living in my flat, in my room. She called it a day a few days ago when I confronted her. I saw the signs. Hiding her phone from me, being sheepish, she wanted to get or was already in touch with him. I was right. We talked. She couldn’t be with me because she wants freedom and then today on a day off where we were meant to be together she spent at least a little of it drinking coffee with him…that much she admits, and right now I believe that she will probably fuck him again tonight. And it hurts. More than I can explain. So I’m in a pub on my own drinking because I don’t want to be in the flat when she comes home. I want her to get home first. I don’t even know why other than the power of her wondering where I am.
So there you have it.
No glib remarks.
No sentiment of victory.
No happy ending.
I’m a broken man and fell for someone who ultimately hurt me.
For years I was considered a prick for having many sexual partners. But at least that prick wasn’t heart broken.
The saddest part is I know sleeping with him would be a huge mistake for her and I don’t want her to fall back into that trap . But who am I to intervene?
just when you thought it was safe to get back into the water
Don’t mean to alarm/upset anyone but I may have been having sex till 5 o’clock this morning and then from 8 till 11 today…and once again in the shower! Which is easy when you know how.
It wasn’t great, I didn’t stay hard the entire time which was an endless source of frustration but still…
Watch this space.
If dating were an Olympic sport I’d be Usain Bolt.
Making bad chemistry jokes because all the good ones Argon!