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| messageboards, manga, vintage, the night my mother met bruce lee, support, opinion, hot drunk girls, manhattan, tuesdays with morrie, obituaries, transcripts, salonmagazine, steppenwolf, cock, tranny, incest sex stories, marcperkel, man, travel narrative, stars, masturbate, manchester, voyeur, | When I left my mother and entered the world at fifteen, I couldn't imagine a free sex friendly, honest, equal relationship in sex or love. I believed there were only hostages and hostage-takers, that each needed (and needed to destroy) the other. That's how it was, until I had children. When we see that our kids think well of the world, when we're able free sex to control our impulses and offer them respect, when we see free sex they don't take advantage of our weakness and in fact respect us back, then our perceptions of the world change. The things that happened to us no longer seem inevitable. They are simply what happened to us, randomly. Figuring this out has not been smooth and easy. I had some bitter days after I realized that my three-year-old daughter has already outdistanced me emotionally. I understood then that in some ways I'm ruined beyond repair. |
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| I used to think they weren't at fault for passing it on to me, but then I had children, and I changed my mind. Although I can't get my parents out of me, I hot drunk girls make sure I'm not sticking them into my kids, by not hot drunk girls doing the things I've been taught — like getting a temporary fix by huffing my kids' affection. I believe my mother loved me, but her love was a transactional thing. If I filled her up, and didn't contradict her dream of what and who we were together, then she would giggle and caress hot drunk girls and compliment me, and not do anything scary. I remember lying on the plaid couch as a young girl, picturing grown men entering my vagina with their erect penises and peeing in me. They'd keep peeing until it would come out of my mouth and ears and nose and eyes. I believe now those men were actually supposed to be my mother. She needed my love, my acceptance, my total agreement always: her need poured into me continuously, until it felt like it would flush out everything that was me. |
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