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Пятничный " Sometimes a hug or pat on the back or rubbing my leg doesn't make me feel better...
I feel no comfort when one's arms are around me. I feel more trapped in my sorrow but now in a smaller environment. I dont hug back. Sometimes I suffocate... I dont have the strength to hug back. My body is too weak from the feel of sadness and depression...
Rubbing my back pushes me forward, almost causing me to fall. It is a small push to let out a whine or a cry, but caressing my spine does not help with my troubles and sorrows. I can't see your hand. I can only feel it...
You rub my leg to try to cheer me up. Why my leg? It doesn't hurt. I feel too weak to move it. I see your hand upon it, but such an area on my body is not connected to me feeling better...
You caress my cheek, a place where you are so close to my eyes, my face, my nose, my hair, my ears: a very personal spot. I start to cry. I feel your hand upon my cheek, your thumb trailing under my eye to collect the tears that escape. I can feel the warmth of your hand pressing against that cold spot on my face. It warms me - it gives me comfort. Your fingers lace around my hair and play with it as you rub my cheek. I felt you slowly starting to take your hand away. I hold it in place and give you a small look: please keep it there. Its the only spot that you can touch that will calm me down and put me at ease... "
"At work, my mind never slows down. I never have time to think about my or worries. After work, I focus on TV, video games and chatting with friends. I focus a lot of attention on my friends. The TV distracts my mind from the outside world. Video games put me in a state of bliss by just focusing on something that has a lot of colors and lights - my thumbs and fingers moving quickly to progress further in the game, revealing more of the story to me with every level I beat. My mind is too busy to think about my worries and my issues. Work, Games, Friends, Movies, Food. Thats all it thinks about. But when it's time for me to go to bed, when I hear nothing but silence, when my body lies still in bed, my mind slowly goes through personal memories, finding ways to have less respect for myself. It comes up with questions why I'm not doing what I "should" be doing in my life. It reminds me of my age and where I should be in my life compared to friends and family. It compares my life to others and how my life seems pathetic. ' Why can't I be here? Why can't you do this? Why aren't you there yet? ' I try to answer those questions as I lay still, but more questions comes up, making it harder and harder to answer or try to find the right answer. In the end, I find myself sitting up in the darkness, holding my stuff animal in my arms. My brain doesn't shut off, my eyes remain open. Sitting up or laying down, I remain awake until I can see a hint of the sun off in the distance. In order for me to answer the sea of questions my mind float upon, I have to make changes. But due to lack of work, money and freedom, I feel confined where I am. Feeling stuck, I get more depressed. More questions come up. When the time is near for me to get ready for work, those questions fade and I'm now on 'work' mode. I just know that those questions will haunt me again the next night. I just don't know how to answer them all..."
"It was late - a bit past 2am. I couldn't sleep. There was too much on my mind: mostly worries and anxieties. I tried to find comfortable positions to sleep in so my body would just relax. My mind continued to shout and bug me, causing my body to become restless. I live alone. There was no one to talk to. My phone was right next to me. All my friends and family were asleep. I didn't want to call them on a week night and have them think I was doing a drunk dial call. Plus, would they understand my worries anyway. It's all personal, almost private. I felt like I can't really talk to anyone that wont judge me. I had to speak. I had to talk to someone. Something.
My teddy was in the corner. She looked real enough. I turned on the light and sat up, placing her on my lap. I just stared at her; those button eyes looking up at me. I felt silly doing this. I just sat there, my mouth shut and my mind racing. I started talking, my words dripping out of me like a tipped-over glass of water. I talked to my teddy, telling her what was on my mind, what I'm scared of, and why I couldn't sleep... I expected no answer from my long train of babble. I know I wouldn't get any advice from her - advice I need to calm my nerves. But the more I talk, the less anxious I felt. I listened to my own words and my brain analyzed my problems in a different way.
Some weight is taken off my shoulders. Not all though, but at least I did get some sleep... "
"It pains me to see you sad. It pains me to see you cry, when you feel weak, and you lack hope to continue on. You look like you are constantly attacked by the world around you. The stress and pressure of life continues to bombard you with pain and depression to the point where you almost lose motivation to get up in the morning. How I wish I can shield you from hate, stress and the negative energies that strike you when you are weak and vulnerable.
I imagine large white wings wrapping around us while you cling to me and break down into tears. Those wings shield us from the hate and anger around you, both physically and spiritually, like a towering glowing shield blocking the arrows of negativity and sorrow. When I hear you cry, my wings fold closer around us. My tears roll down onto you as you bury your face within my chest. Each tear I shed, the harder I prey for my wings to be real; to help protect you from harm and enclose us in a small void of relaxation and happiness..."
"Panicing. Heart racing. A train of thoughts flashed through my mind. I couldn't think straight. My eyes couldn't stop moving as my mind raced. Tears fell down my cheeks. I knew I did something wrong. I know I did something terrible. I knew I caused some kind of trouble. My mind didn't show me exactly what I did, but a series of possibilities. The more it showed, the more I sunk into my depression. No one real answer. Only multiple ones. I had to call that person. It was the only way to know if I did something wrong or not. I couldn't reach for the phone. I was too scared. I didn't want to make anything more complicated. I sat there, breathing hard and fast but body remained still. My panic attack made me immobile. My respect for myself lowered to the point where I feel worthless. I punished myself. Blood from my own destruction ran down my arms. The pain mixed with my fear as I sat there on my bed. I try to make everyone happy. I try to please everyone I care about. I try to be the best for them. I try to be a good person. I felt like I failed. I felt that did something that will last for what I think is forever.
I had to call that person. I needed to know the truth. The more I play the "waiting game" the more I feel closer to the bloody razor on my bed. My ear picked up the dial tone. It echoed through my head like inside was a dark carven. As it rang, I tried to come up with string of sentences that would make my point clear. I couldn't think of any once the person picked up the phone. I tried to calm my voice to answer, but it soon turned quick and weak. All that came out of my mouth was a list of questions. Question upon question poured out of my mouth, mixed with tears and drool. I went silent when that person spoke words that I needed to hear: 'Calm down. Relax. Take a deep breathe. Relax. Everything is ok.' I couldn't help but curled up and cried. A small feel of being nurtured came from that person's voice. We spoke for a while. My attention was fixed on that person's voice. I didn't care about anything else but listening to that voice. I begged for forgiveness, apologizing for something I don't know if I did wrong or not. I wanted to express how sorry I was and that Im not a bad person.
The night ended with my wounds bandaged, my face washed from tears and a calm heartbeat in my chest. I try hard to not think of that moment. I drowned myself with cartoons on TV before passing out from exhaustion. I remained calm throughout the night...
Палево же. Надо было делать "грустный пятничный", дабы модерок не заметил.
Думаю, и так пойдёт."It was the first time he visited my home. We planned this trip for many months until we both got enough money to split a plane ticket for him to come over. I have a crush on him - kind of a secret crush. Now and then, we talked about doing "suggestive" things online ( adult roleplay ), but in some cases I knew he was joking around. I, on the other hand, was mostly serious. I never told him. I didn't want to scare him off before finally meeting him in person. When seeing him at the airport terminal, I was very happy. I brought him back to my apartment where I made him feel welcome and comfortable. We were so happy to finally see each other in person.
He was only staying for a few days before heading back home. During his trip, he was very physical... as in hugging and snuggling next to me. He never made any moves on me. I guess I never gave off any signals that I wanted him to advance on me - maybe do more than just snuggling. Being our last night, I wanted to snuggle on the couch with him and watch a movie we planned to see together. He was in his PJs and I was in mine. I just wore a very long tank top nighty and he had his standard shirt and sweatpants. I had my tight panties underneath my shirt, hoping to maybe help show a small sign that I wanted to maybe fool around on our last night. We snuggled under a blanket to keep warm and comfortable.
I waited until near the end of the movie to make my move. I was so shy and insecure to make a move earlier. Taking a deep breath, I slowly rolled onto my back and pushed the blanket off my hips. I carefully lifted my shirt to the point where my panties were now exposed in the light of the tv set. I waited there for a second before whispering his name. He didn't answer. Off the corner of my eye, I saw his eyes closed. He was sleeping. This was the first time I exposed my underwear to him and he was asleep. His hand laid close to my hip in the sleeping position he was in. His hand was close to my panties. I watched his hand, hoping that it would lift and those fingers would find its way close to my crotch.
I blamed myself. I waited too long. I wanted some romantic intimacy with him like I always fantasized about while talking to him online. I didn't bother waking him up. I reached for the remote and turned off the tv. I covered myself under the blanket again and rolled onto my side, facing him. It was hard for me to fall asleep. I don't know why, but I didn't bother pulling my shirt down over my panties again. I left them exposed. His hand now rested on my lower stomach. It was still lifeless as he was in a deep slumber...
I really need to be more open to him concerning my real feelings towards him and what I want. Maybe he might get the hint if he somehow feels my panties or even sees them in the morning..."
Нет, к сожалению. Автора ищи тут:
"...I wish I could read minds. My boyfriend is very hard to read, especially in bed. While we make love, I open my eyes to look at him. I watch him as he has his eyes shut, sometimes tightly as he thrusts and moves against me. His facial expression shows me that something is on his mind. He thrusts and rocks harder in me, his expression never changes. He struggles. Before he met me, he has been alone and only had his thoughts to aid his taming...
I don't know what goes on in his head. I ask but he avoids the question. He did say that sometimes he uses his imagination while being intimate with me. He told me that it helps him with keeping it hard and ejaculation. He just never says what he thinks about though. I know he has a very vivid kinky imagination from what I gathered from his porn folder and comic collection. But what does he think about? What fantasies does he imagine while we make love? Does he think about me or something else? He struggles sometimes.
It just worries me if I'm ever in his mind while he makes love to me. Am I the first thing that comes to his mind when he ejaculates into me, or does he think I'm too dull and replaces me with something or someone else...?"
А ссылку в б-тред на фурряч ты кинул?
Не-а."Hey... C-could you come over...?"
"I just don't trust myself right now..."
"...Please, I just need someone with me right now..."
"...Can you come over, please?"
Being scared and alone - a feeling inside yourself that you don't trust your own actions - a fear of doing something wrong and harmful. You feel like you are dangling by a thread, your fingers slipping. Below you is a dark void. Above you is a small ray of light. You don't have enough strength to hold on. You need help. You beg for help. You look for anyone you trust to help you. A doubt stirs in you: Is there anyone willing to help you when you call for it?
Червь-пидор! Скинь немедленно!
Вот сам и скинь.
I really hope this gets to you because I have a very embarrassing problem and I'm looking for some professional advice. I'm bisexual and my last 'company' was with my friend who is male. He was my first male encounter ever and I just didn't really know how to act towards him. Things got out of hand and fell apart. It was not something that he did, it was something that I did. I need some advice.
This guy was somewhat of a friend of mine. I guess the correct term would be 'acquaintance'. Don't really know him all that well. Just the fact that he is gay and he did eye me here and there for some time. My curiosity started with him since he was the only male that took an interest in me. We dated here and there and chatted about the possibility that he would be my first male lover. Being at that mindset of 'confusion', I let him guide me to where he wanted to go. I was distant - being very coy and silent. He continued to make advances towards me, treating me delicately and testing certain areas of my body to try to get me turned on. I remained still and nervous, even with his constant reminders to me to relax as he undressed me.
Things fell apart when he went for my crotch. I covered myself quickly. I told him that it was ugly and I didn't want him to look at it. He asked me again and again why I thought it was ugly. I couldn't answer. I just kept quiet, standing there, covering myself up. He tried to make more advances on me and trick me from removing my hands from my cock, but I kept my hands where I thought they belonged. It wasn't long before he got upset and impatient. The evening ended when he put his clothes back on and walked out the door. I just sat in the corner, hating myself for my fear.
I feel like part of a person's personality is shown in ever body part on that person's figure. The one we keep hidden is a "secret" part of that personality that only the trusted and closest people we know get to see it. My friend was the first one and I felt like I was not confident enough to show him that particular "piece" of me.
I hate the way my genitals look. I feel like they don't look normal. I've seen other male erections and genitals while browsing on porn sites and compared myself to what most males had... I felt like mine was ugly and small. I felt like it didn't fit with the rest of my body. I fear that if a man or woman saw my crotch, they would think twice about me and have a 'change of heart'. I remember the shape and size of my friend's erection. It looked perfect compared to mine. I know what you are thinking while reading this: You think there might be an ugly growth or some kind of genital disease on me and I should get it treated, but there isn't. Nothing is medically wrong with it, but I feel and think that something is and I hate how it looks... I thought about surgery or enlargement, anything that would make it look right in my eyes, but I just feel like that would make things worse...
Everyone, male and female, pictures genitals on a man or woman's to look a certain way. But I feel like mine is different and shouldn't be seen by anyone. L, am I wrong to think about this? Is it natural to not like the look of a certain body type, even if that part is your crotch? Am I the only male to think this? Are there woman out there that think the same about their's - that they are not satisfied with the physical appearance of their crotch? Do I just have a mental problem? Any feedback would help me out.
Смысл? Там никого нету. Все малыши уже в кроватках.
" There are times I really hate spring. Spring is the promise of birth, growth, awakening, warmth and love. That is what everyone says. For me, its about sexual frustration and constant masturbation. To sum it up: mating season. Animals and plants are not the only one effected by the turn of the weather. We furries are just as much affected by this. Those with mates ( girlfriends/boyfriends ) have no issue with for filling their needs to mate and to empty their sexual energy and tension. For me, a single virgin male fox, its very hard for me to walk the rope of being sexually leveled. At night, when the work day is over, I find myself constantly masturbating. My aid is my yiff books, small collection of hentai videos, the net and my imagination. I slip into a state of erotic pleasure until I wake up and find that an hour has passed. My fur is damp with sweat, my fingers and bed sheets are covered with my mess, balled up tissues lay near me, my musk filling the room and a quarter of my lotion is gone. Every time, I just remain still, barely enough energy to keep my eyes open. Slowly, my thoughts collect and my mood goes down into a small pit of depression. I just feel pathetic doing this as a daily routine during the sprint time. Here I am, masturbating to porn instead of making love to my chosen mate. I'm just socially strange and I really don't have that much respect for myself... I don't know if anyone can really relate to what I'm feeling...
... I really hate this season ..."
ОП хочет спатки. Анончики, кто-нибудь продержит тред до утра?
A dead mind
”Just got out of a shower. It is dark in my room.
The only light source if the street lamp outside my window.
My body is wet. Every step makes a puddle on the ground.
I have nothing else but a towel wrapped around my body.
My legs shake. They can’t take the weight from my body.
I fall on my bed, landing with a thud.
My wet head rests on the cold pillow. My body resting limp on the mattress.
I don’t have the energy to move any part of my body.
My eyes remain halfway open. My ears perked a little to hear.
I see nothing but darkness. I hear nothing but silence.
My body remains still. My senses gone numb.
My mind runs out of control, thinking thoughts that I have no control over.
Depressing images. Ego hurting thoughts.
I can’t help it but run through hurtful memories and false ideas.
I become a victim to my thoughts. My body helpless to defend itself.
I slowly grow sad, feeling my body growing weaker to fight back.
Does my mind show me the truth about my life when it doesn’t have to worry about my body?
Does my conscience act fully when nothing else in my body moves or is active?
Are these thoughts of self destruction, guilt , depression and anxiety true?
Or is my mind just acting like a bully to me when I’m down and helpless, convincing me that it shows me the truth when I don’t have to concentrate on anything else?”
" ... I have close friends, love ones dear to me. The sad part is that they live far away from me: other side of the boarder, and on the other side of the ocean. Everyday I talk to them online. I make sure they are ok - that they are safe, happy and healthy. When they are in trouble, I can't help but feel helpless and useless. Sometimes, small problems I can help them with by being an ear for them to talk to and a voice to respond and comfort them and ease their suffering. When something bad really happens, I feel very limited and restrained to what I could do to help. All I could do is tell them to keep strong, to keep breathing, to keep living. Sometimes I don't believe myself when I say that to them and I start to worry, I start to fear for them and their well-being.
I love them dearly. They are a big part of my life. Over the years we have grown in our friendships to the point where I feel like I found my kindred spirits - my soul mates. They are important to me. When I hear that they are in trouble; in a situation where I can't come to their aid or be with them physically to help ease their pain and help them out of their troubles, I feel weak and helpless. I feel chained down to where I am due to lack of money for modes of transportation. I feel like praying isn't enough to help them. I want to be there with them in their time of need. I want to hold them tight and try to help them fix the bind they are in, to fight off any evil that they are facing. I want to watch over them like a guardian angel to make sure that they are always happy, always safe and never in dire troubling situations.
I feel like I can't be their guardian angel. I can't help them due to distance and finances. I found people who I can't live without, and yet fate placed them out of my reach. I break down. I start blaming myself for not being as helpful as I want to be. I wish to be their guardian angel. But the truth keeps pulling my "feathers from my wings" and Im stuck grounded. All I can do is email them and talk to them online. Thats all I can do. WHen they are not on or don't reply, I worry. I try not to think of bad things that could happen to them. But worrying keeps piling up in my head and I lose more feathers.
I want them safe. I want my dear friends, my significant others, my kindred spirits, to be safe, healthy, happy and free. Thats all I want. Pluck out my feathers. Take my wings. Take what you want from me so they will live a happy life without drama and negativity ..."
Мне вот любопытно: откуда ты, анончик?
Восточный город на Днепре
На М его названье начинает.
Далековато, однако, выходит. Я-то аж в Гродно.
Ну, в Беларуси вообще фуррей и днем с огнем не сыскать, а фуррей, которые посещают борды так тем более.
Выходит, мы с тобой редкий, почти вымирающий вид!
Я, пожалуй, уже на боковую, так что спокойной ночи, если ты еще тут.
Сладких снов, анончик, я тоже побегу баиньки.
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