It was another gloomy fucking morning where I accidentally (seriously, I promise) found your old voice recordings. With that innocent sexy voice of yours that would cause a celibate and chaste monk to spunk instantly.
And I listened and I laughed and maybe even began redirecting blood flow to my nether region unintentionally.
And I smiled.
Thinking about how we could have been such an absolutely fucking dynamite couple.
We could have had a lovely garden together..
Some cute dogs!
A shared metal playlist.
And daily no holds barred fuckfests that involve me giving you multiple edged orgasms and putting you in a choker customized to my liking.
Babygirl you really missed out..
If I could bottle up my lust for you I’d sell it as a high end aphrodisiac on premium market auctions like the Wu-Tang did.
“As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster”
Who doesn’t want to be a gangster? Think about it for a minute.
You got steady access to top notch cigars, your friends are all ball breaking tough guys, you rob and cheat people out of their money and you get fly bitches despite being fat.
Fugget about it!
In this day and age when the governments cheat and whack us all daily.. who doesn’t want to give it a shot themselves? They can’t have all the fun!
Imagine yourself as a 6’0 wiseguy in floral shirts or a snappy blazer. You walk down Mulberry street with your head held high on your way to shake down innocent ethnics. You lay a few beatings and pay off some witnesses with a few bucks. So much fun.
You’re feared and beloved by misguided youths. They carry your moms bags out of respect. Lovely.
You run a harem of goomars while you have a wife and son at home. Beautiful.
Sure, you have to whack some good people along the way. Some friends you love. Lot of blood on those hands.. Oof madone, but you made an oath. Family first. And it pays. You’re a good soldier. Capo soon, God willing.
I mean, yeah.. Eventually you get pinched. Do time upstate. Lose it all. Probably because some ratfuck sang about you. The same man you invited over to dinner weekly. He hugged your kids.. No big deal.
You get out. Earn again. Rebuild. Wife gone. Kids messed up on the junk.
But there’s always a promotion around the corner. Hoes still sucking you. You’re a legendary hitman. No worries. Life is tight.
If you’re lucky, you reach 55. You’re an old fuck now. That promotion to underboss never came. You’re in a rot. Feds still gunning for your ass. It’s a new world. RICO is a motherfucker.
You become an old timer and an afterthought. No earning for the family, a burden. Hookers and skifooza floozies are your hobby and only skill.
You die of cancer and on your deathbed realize you had it all. The woman you loved is gone and you were better off going legit. Your kids will suffer from your mistakes.
Being a gangster is good.
Was it worth it?
The action, violence, pussy, the cash, the clout, the fear? Being the fucking man?
I hold a strong dislike for the majority of females in my country. I find them to be highly unpleasant and uneducated, with a sizeable ego and zero manners. Their aesthetic amount to feces. Nothing good.
In other words, they’re shallow fucking cunts who look like tanned balls. Most of them.
The “men” are even worse, don’t worry.
That’s why I always had a penchant to fantasize, fuck and sext exotic pussy from other continents. As broken as they might be, it’s better than home.
So much more reliable, submissive and pretty than the locals. The masculinity crisis of the west has made it easier for big trap cigar smoking studs to engage in LDR and secure foreign fuck toys for the future (present, if vacationing).
I love the fact that a chick with big tits on the other side of the world is playing with herself to my pictures and dreaming about fucking me. She might get to do it for real if I like her.
Literally had them call me a god.. small G. No blasphemy here. And I ain’t talking third world. I’m talking Canada and America and England.. which is foreign to me. Sigh.
Now there are decent dimes in the local economy, but it pales in comparison to the dollar. Ya dig?
Maybe if we had more artistic blue hair goths or BDSM loving Aryan blondes. A spicy brunette here and there.
It’s by no means me advocating to never touch a local, but if I do it makes me feel dead inside.
Regrets suck. I try my best to never live with any of them but I’d be lying if I said it’s truly the case.
We all have some regrets. Some people will regret eating that pizza that caused them to vomit all over their anime body pillow, some regret blowing the one shot they had with their crush, some regret never telling their family how much they love them while they’re still around to hear.
Like I said, we all have regrets. I think most people try to hard too ignore them. They bury their regrets deep and thus they never truly cope with it.
How do you deal with it?
You don’t, they will always be buried in your subconscious unless you start smoking copious amounts of DMT..
You just gotta suck it up, live your life to the best of your ability and keep moving.
Embrace the fact you fucked up and you suck and keep improving until you make up for that one failure that haunts you.
What is it that compels young nubile women to leave it all and run off with degenerate guitar playing junkies who sound good on vinyl?
It’s interesting really. They say goodbye to school and hit the road with some larger than life jerkoff that’s drowning in a sea of meaningless pussy just to be another pretty face in the harem.
They spend all day giving fellatio to the gang and rambling about their hopes and dreams to a man who pretends he gives a fuck who just wants ass.
She is in love, the rocker is her entire world. And he.. well, his ego is in love. He likes her very much, but his ego.. his ego is infatuated.
He feels so good. This girl wants his babies, obeys his every word and is a grade A lay. She will cut her wrist if he says so, goddamn.
So much power over her. He loves her. Sort of. Does he though? He writes songs about her, she fuels his creativity, he loves life when she’s around.. but what happens when she nags.. or her insecurity becomes too toxic?
He cares for her, but how much longer can the show go on? I am not a rockstar. I can sure as hell relate though.