You have to hear this. Depths of 4chan: Epstein, the dark side, and rabbit holes

[Dür Ktulhu]

 

[Dür Ktulhu]

This is my dark, destructive side, with demons locked in their cages. Thank you for stopping by; today, I'll crack the door open a little.

Perhaps this post will make my profile more personal. But why not? Although, why should it.. To hell with discretion, actually-I'm always scattering my secrets and am always far too lavish with them. But enough of that. I recently caught myself realizing I haven't been interested or aroused by ordinary things for a long time now. Just naked girls don't stir anything in me-zero emotion. I like gas masks, shaved female heads, bandaged faces, iron prosthetic limbs like in cyberpunk. For me, a person becomes sexually interesting as an object, a symbol, an image, detached from a living person with all their complexities. A simple girl without any peculiarities might spark interest, but only if there's a "story," some shared experience, like an accident or something similar. My tastes are severely warped and perverse, but I simply call them "exotic." I like my exoticism. Because to be mediocre in anything -that, in my opinion, is one of the most terrifying sentences.
I want to share with you the primary, dominant fantasy in the realm of sexuality, the one that sits deepest within me- it's the old film The Collector by John Fowles from 1965. It's the story of a meek young man who leads an introverted, quiet life. In it, he meets a girl named Miranda - the youth falls in love with her, but, of course, he lacks the resolve. He decides to kidnap her. He sets up a cozy room for her in the dungeon of his mansion.. I love this story (I even use the name Miranda in passwords), but it most likely warped my psyche at an early age.
You know, it's difficult to kidnap someone these days. Even impossible. But no, of course, it's possible. Very much so. Once- I was still a schoolboy -riding past the market on a bus, I saw a Romani girl: about 20+, standing and begging. I remembered it because she was incredibly beautiful, and nobody noticed - astonishing! I remember how I wanted to tear her out of that squalor! There's a sort of chivalry in me...

But what am I getting at? Ah yes, our age of technological explosions has bypassed people like that: the underprivileged, unwanted people who have no documents, no citizenship, and whom law enforcement has no desire to deal with. So, I even have the physical possibility, but not the desire. And yet I do. This fantasy contradicts itself; I'll explain. The thing is (and perhaps I'm mistaken), but no matter who I think about, I have a firm conviction that this girl would come with me voluntarily anyway-if I wanted her to. So then, what's the point of kidnapping? And thus, the act of kidnapping is devalued. I admit, I'm not attracted to violence or inflicting pain; that's awful. Although the stalking, the preparations, the kidnapping itself -they make a strong impression on me, excite me as the only true hunt, and I feel my blood boiling. But it's not about violence, control, or possession -it's about a special, strange, abnormal closeness, or the illusion of closeness.

You must understand these are fantasies, and they are confined to my imagination. That's why I remain here - on the outskirts of fantasies.
Where you can be a collector, you can be a god, you can be anyone.
Where Miranda is always alive, always unattainable- a little bit mine, a little bit not..
It's my personal labyrinth where I wander, and if it frightens you, know this: it frightens me too. But within this fear, something is born.. a reminder of the depths we are still capable of. Of who we can become.. And reality remains boring and tedious. For all of us.

To him however, who is possessed of a devil, I would whisper this word in the ear: Better for thee to rear up thy devil. Even for thee there is still a path to greatness. — Nietzsche

And you? What demons whisper to you at night? Share, if you dare.