1.I have always been awkward sexually, I don't mean awkward in the coitus sense but rather everything else. During sex I prefer to have fun like any young man would, but before and after the act, where the awkwardness comes in, is where I find myself loathing the world and the person I'm about to fuck, or have just recently fucked . Young people usually enjoy the hunt and the thrill of courtship. My best friend prefers it to sex itself, he believes that “It's a canvas that only the best artists are capable of painting on.” I kind of mean to agree with him and then reality kicks in and I remember that people are disgusting creatures, before, during (especially during) and after sex. I don't know exactly where my hatred for humanity comes from, but I know I have a feeling it has something to do with hitting puberty and realizing that most people are idiots and only think of themselves. For me a certain clarity hit me like a typhoon of bricks when I became pubescent. The idea of ​​sex was no longer a foreign idea to me, I began to care about what my body looked like and I also began to notice girls and unashamedly some boys. Porn didn't play a big part in my puberty; I knew it obviously but it never interested me, the same goes for masturbation. I wanted the real thing and set out to get it. At the age of fourteen I came across a little squirrel-like girl who was good enough to give me what I wanted. Losing my virginity wasn't as big of a deal as people would have you believe, and because of this I would pretend to be a virgin for the next six years (this was a big part of how I would 'woo' women). After Squirrel Girl and I were done, I decided that sex had only one purpose, other than... middle of paper... a guy through the double doors. It was thrown to me; I grab him by the neck. A naked man hands me a hammer. Without hesitation, I punch the crying boy in the face. I keep swinging the hammer at the boy's face until there's nothing left but broken bones protruding from bloody pulp. I throw him to the ground, I join him over there. I start rubbing my face into her bloody pulp, licking and massaging her body. For a moment I think I'm a cat. I put my hands in the crater that is his face and cover him in blood; I undo my pants and start masturbating. I quicken my pace as I look at the boy and then at my guests who are still feasting. I see the red guest who I have contacted. I look at the boy again and orgasm in his bony, pulpy crevasse. I collapse onto my back and close my eyes. I see a group of blue butterflies coming towards me and swallowing my body, washing away my sins.