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I like to feel good. I like to touch myself, especially when I pretend I'm someone else. Sometimes in a restaurant I lose myself, I forget I exist. I sneak my hand up under my shirt and rub it along the hair that collects around my bellybutton. The hair's soft like the hair on a baby's head. I get hot and I can smell myself. I'm being smothered in my own armpit, then I come, but I don't feel anything. I discover a puddle o f sperm in my crotch. I hurry and pay, then I leave, afraid they'll notice. When I come, I don't get an erection. I love myself, but I also hate myself. I should be destroyed. People look at me and think I'm repulsive. They hate me. I like them hating me, because they're right to do so. I get an erection when I think about a specific person that hates me. Then I get an erection, but I can't come. Otherwise I just come, like pus drains out of a sore, without getting hard. I need them to hate me, to be sickened by me. Then I get what I deserve.
