A Residuum of Otitis Externa

I laid there, with My head to the side, as he suctioned the moisture out of the offending ear. He was using a foreign instrument, and a knowledgable hand.

There were times when he simply needed to prod areas inside that suffered from tenderness, and when he did so I would grimace with an innocuous fear.

During the benign procedure, I couldn't help but to wonder if she cared about My moist ear as much as the people in those rooms whose purpose in life it was to care about moist ears.

Because if your lover doesn't care about the moisture in your ear, then in due time they will cease to care for the rest of you.

Artless

Little girl–chasing popularity, squirming for approval. I see right through you.

Your insecurities are blatant–glaring even. Who are you trying to impress? Your followers? Followers?! Do you really think they give a FUCK about you?

No.

What they came to see is a free show as they churn their meat, scrolling through an endless flesh feed in their available hand.

Exposed vanity–a consequence of her anxiety at being alone with no reassurances, no feedback, no likes, no chatter.

Silence.

She makes social media her life's work, setting her foundation on shifting sands. But vanity rusts artlessly in an air of mediocrity.

Accept

It's been an unacceptable amount of time since I've last seen you–obscene almost, in its length.

How I long to trace the slender contours of your feline body with My hard desire.

I've heard it said to love in such a way that the person you love feels free, but I refuse to adhere to such docile beliefs. My Dionysian Spirit chuckles disdainfully at harmony and balance–It feeds on frenzied obsession, and Kitten, you are Mine.

Take My hand, and allow yourself to free fall into the unchartered depths of your shadow depravity.

ACCEPT.

The Malknowing of The Flexilis Pupa

So you think you know Her?

HA!

You vile and ignorant cockroach!

You insignificant sycophant excrement!

Foul and debased is your petty existence!

For She is The Flexilis Pupa, and Her essence cannot be reduced and categorized by your paltry understanding.

She is beyond definition; She is a spectrum of Self–sparkling identities that effervesce and tickle the backside of your undeserving tonsils, as you drink from your dog bowl on the floor–Her spiked heel atop your menial, misshapen skull.

NOW DRINK.

Missing Kitten

Last seen frolicking in My little lair.

She's a shy, svelte sexiness.

Has a gymnast's sinful talents.

Iridescent green eyes with bursting nebula irises that draw you in with urgency.

Soft, sweet, tanned skin with fading floral tattoos that trace the contours of her tight, toned body.

A soothing, sensual voice that incites the male (and sometimes female) imagination.

And a missing tooth in the back of her mouth that peekaboos when she smiles her immaculate, radiant smile.

If found, please let her know this:

It's time for another feeding. Carnal pleasures await–the likes of which are sure to satiate your wanderlust mouth.

Ball Gag of Burning Desire

It has been said by the weak of spirit to:

"Be gentle with yourself."

"Forgive yourself."

"Love yourself."

That if you can do these things consistently every day for the rest of your life everything will be peachy.

But I say this:

"Have DISGUST for yourself." For only then will you have the nerve and audacity to be a better version of you. Because the lizard brain does NOT want change. It craves safety.

But the ironic thing about life, is that choosing to stay in your safe little comfort zone is perhaps the most dangerous place you can be.

Staying still leads to stagnation, and stagnant waters are brimming with disease.

Disease of mind.

Disease of body.

Disease of spirit.

Disease that leads to accelerated death.

The lizard brain will lead you to drink from this virulent pond because it is the enemy of achievement, and it would rather have you sick from comfort, than healthy with aspiration.

You cannot eradicate its voice, but you can learn how to muffle it with a ball gag of burning desire.

Thus spoke, The DragnMastr.