Me: *stubs my toe* "AH FUCK!"
Mass of quivering flesh that's been growing in my cabinet and slowly feeding off my suffering until it develops sentience: *takes first breath*
Whatever *sticks my dick in the gap between who you are and who you portray yourself as*
dyslexic scholars, disorganized archivists, high-contrast photographers, producers with inadequate equipment, shortsighted mystics, placid hallucinators, pedestrians in empty parking lots, compulsive scribes, those whose work is poisoning them, indecisive traitors, prison tattooers, bored waitresses, new world geologists, functional alcoholics in useless professions, filename poets, amateur degenerates, anyone whose pet is really weird, street sweepers, those whose holidays are celebrated ironically, paranoiacs who have been right one single miraculous time, patchy shavers, sloppy conspirators, honest teachers, failed influencers, those wearing too many layers on a warm day, unqualified translators, prisoners making good use of their time, mendacious cartographers, generous bartenders, and so on, and so forth
its rlly funny that the current crop of content for forcemasc is either inspiring but rather erotically void motivational posters, or just saying "be gross and disgusting and violent" like thats what men are supposed to be.
the real sensual appeal of forcemasc, to me, is someone grabbing you by the hair, looking you in the eyes, and saying "I know what you are. And I'm going to drag it out of you. And you're going to love every second of it."
it's having someone not only affirm your internal view of yourself, but demanding it be brought to fruition at their hands. Someone who's completely uninterested in the girl-shaped shell you've been living inside of, and wants to extricate you, raw and wanting, from inside of it. They want to mold you like clay in the image of a strong, confident, beast that knows how to obey.
it's having your body examined and sized up, being praised for how far you've come and getting punished for backsliding. it's getting called a 'good boy' every time you take your shot straight-faced. it's tussling in the backyard and getting that little smile when you stand back up instead of tapping out. it's building your tolerance, your confidence, layer by layer until that shy, scared little girl inside of you that people forced you to be is gone, and all that remains is a very, very good boy.
Be gay, trans and alive
Apples are so fucked up you can get two from the same pile ans one tastes more like an apple than anything youve ever eaten and the other tastes like water poisoned by pharaohs