I've got muscles, so I want to use them. I get up in the morning, pose naked in front of the mirror, and flex for half an hour. Looking at myself, I want to beat someone's head in with my bare fist . I want to see my fist forced down some asshole's face, reach down, grab a handful of intestines, and pull them up and out the throat. That would make me feel good. Whatever makes me feel good is what counts. The reason I build my muscles is to use them. That makes me feel good. It'd be senseless to work out for years just for the stupid satisfaction of feeling "healthy" or knowing I look good when I'm about to fuck somebody up the ass. I get satisfaction out of grinding a face in the pavement. I don't want to question it. I like causing pain. That's how I am. I see an immediate response to something I just did. No bullshit. Pure animal pain, me the victor, me in control, me on top, you on the bottom. I never allow myself to be in the position of feeling pain. I'll do anything to avoid pain. I'll run, humiliate myself(if it's the lesser of two pains), betray a so-called friend, anything. In order to decrease the possibility of pain, I'm never threatening in public. I obscure myself. I don't show off my muscles. I'm soft spoken. I don't need to impress anyone. I couldn't care less what they think of me. All I want is satisfaction. I get it when I need it. I cultivate it like a hard-on, stroke it, build it up to bursting, then, when I'm ready, I find somebody to fuck with. Somebody to destroy, somebody to ruin. I brutalize them, then I fuck them. But they can't be "into" it, they can't be some wimpy masochist getting rid of their lame authoritarian guilt.