Do what thou wilt

Do what thou wilt  has been carved into the wall in one of the library toilets, in cramped and jagged handwriting, probably due to the writer being in a fairly tight position at the time of writing, a position which I now find myself in due to the intense inner pressure of the moment. Messages written in similar vein are dotted round the cubicle, with similar pained and childlike handwriting which reminds me of school, as do most things in life. I leave the toilets and meander out of the library through dimly lit students who are wearing too much black and telling each other stories I’ve heard too many time this week. It could trouble a person to think about it too much, which is why I don’t. The stories pass through as characters themselves: Mate, we were out last night, and Tweed, you know Tweed? From that night at Waki Waki? Well, he’s a ledge. We were walking back from Cosmos, and we went into a Corner shop,’ he slightly lowers his voice ‘two well Indian boys in there, proper like on their phones talking to their bitches back home. ‘Yeah, yeah. Well, Tweed’s all looking round, picking up shit. Raj and Maj are getting pissy, and shouting at us. Tweed then gets in the fridge! Mate, look, I took a video.’ The story ends there, and they laugh. I walk through, and inhale their smoke for free.

.There’s no such thing as parallels.

Is a term I here whilst in line to buy dinner in the local shop. Two boys in front of me are talking; both are skinny and hunched with poor posture, with bum fluff around their mouths. They’re both buying microwave dinners, and will spend the night talking about how they could improve their gaming skills, and comparing notes on why they’re so unsuccessful with women; the only women who give them eye contact is their mothers and the women in the 3D porn films they watch. They will talk all this over, occasionally going for. The microwave Indian meal already looks like it’s been digested and manufactured into shit. I observe them, both lonely with bottled up sex drives which gives them headaches. They will possibly mutually masturbate together, seeking comfort of any form. The cashier calls and one of them shuffles along to pay for his food. I try and decide between whether or not I want a bottle of Whisky or Vodka, and go with Gin instead because there are no parallels, so I may as well try something new.  I am called and served by a cute boy, with delicately styled blonde hair, tousled on top. I could grab it, and throw him all over. He asks how am, I am fine, and do I need a bag, no thanks, and am I doing anything tonight? (well, what are you offering) staying in, could I have a bottle of gin please, yes I have ID, thanks. I leave and walk back to Ransom House, where I live, a breezeblock in a field. There’s blood on the pavement, a goat was slaughtered their last night because of a party that needed a little goat killing to inject the mood. Three girls are outside the door, passing a joint back and forth, one of them casually smiles at me and I stare back with open vacancy.

Leisure

and while I am making my drink, I decide that tonight I will watch it again, because today was one of those days, and it will be fun, and Facebook has nothing to offer apart from reminding me that people have dual personalities, and although I have one too, I do not enjoy the thought of being reminded by this, because it will erode, corrode, and breakaway bits of us, this is what I tell myself daily. On my desk I have carved do what thou wilt because it rings in my mind like a distant song, egging me on. I check Exodus7 to find that my video gained ten likes, and three comments. This is good news, the video took effort and skill and I still can’t believe I wasn’t found out, because I was high at the time. The video was something of a masterpiece and as I re-watch it I am reminded of the beauty and control that it took to film such a thing. I could share the video on Facebook and go viral. This, always, is tempting.

Fetish: get your popcorn.

The video was a gossip and lie which was filmed in documentary spy form, much in the way that documentaries are filmed for sub-news programmes trying to find corruption in funeral homes (where the wrong body is taken to a funeral and buried as Amanda Crowtham, when actually the body is eighteen year old Freddie Matthews). I was in her cupboard when I filmed it, so the crack slightly skewed the view.

Back Story

She was in the kitchen, and talking to Victoria about a boy she had seen on the train. She thought he was cute with nice arms and a tattoo, she confessed it had been a while, which was why she had been so taken with him. I knew I’d ascertain more if I left and heard more through the door, so I did.

Typical fantasy caused by lack of stimulation and (or) touching.

It’s been too long.

I know your pain, babe, so why don’t you borrow it, sister to sister, just for a while, might want to put a dom over it, because I last used it with |Chlo, when we got high and down.

The girl (I leave her nameless through sympathy, her twitter username is @I’msoweird20) said she was tempted, because she lost her hairbrush and is borrowing Juliette’s and would feel a bit wrong, about, you know. So Victoria said why not, just use a dom, it’s not like sharing a milkshake.

Limit Your Exposure

Moments like this are golden, so I went into her bedroom, and paced round, looking for somewhere I could hide. Her cupboard, obvious and bold was empty, so I hid in there. Long clothes which smell faintly of cigarettes, sweat, clubs and home nauseate me. Breathing through my mouth and turn get my iPhone out and wait. I hear talking, giggles and thanks. @I’msoweird20 comes in, and lies on the bed, arching her back slightly. In her hand is a dildo, cut for authenticity at the top

Fetish 2: Style is key

She pulls her jeggings down, along with her purple knickers, and is still for a while, arched back, and lightly brushing herself. Video 1 runs out to I had to start a new one. I try and keep my breathing slow and steady. She takes the dildo, which, I must add, was without a dom – dirty, dirty, dirty. She starts masturbating, and sliding the object in and out, in and out, with gradually increasing force. She keeps going faster, faster, with little moans, and gasps of breath, trying to get into the groove. Video 2: And she is writhing, back arching more, turning on her side sometimes, and gripping onto the pillow. She’s having a ball of a time. Video 3: she arrives and makes no secret about it, gasping with high pitched moans and moans. She lies on the bed motionless for a while, and then goes to the bathroom. At which point I creep out of the cupboard, and rush back into my own room and start the edit.

Good Sex is solo

I wack off after I’ve merged the video into one, watching it over and over. It’s old school, homemade porn; it lives on the internet, old as people. It’s a start, and part of my collection, a long line of observation. One day it’ll all get deleted in a big virus, and I will have to start again.

Suggestions for improvement

Galax23: nice video, not the most original idea, but sure to get picked up by someone J Here’s a link to my latest video, think you’ll enjoy it.

@Galax23: thanks, will do

Galax23 is German, we met on here last year, when I first stumbled across this site, and realised that society now lived online. He likes my videos, and enjoys sharing posts. He’s big in gay porn, often getting teenagers video call him, and perform acts at his command. One day I will meet Galax23, and he and I will have a joint and watch our videos of creation. It will be good. I click on his video; it’s a classic from him, animal torture combined with elements of masturbation. I'd tell you about it, but I'll roll a joint first. 

Back to reality

Andy and I are stood outside having a joint. He’s telling me about his day, a cluster of events which are so ordered and familiar it gives me a headache. He tells me he’s bored of his course, his girlfriend Hannah, and feels trapped. Like, I just feel we’re living in a bubble sometimes, I’m looking to get out, I can’t find a way out. But I will. Yes, yes, I’ve heard this before. I consider telling Andy about the video, because it will cheer him up, and also it will reveal something about me.

But I do not, because we’re then interrupted by @I’msoweird20 and Victoria, who also want to puff on the joint with us. I sigh, and hand them the rest of it, and watch them inhale, exhale. Comfort exists in smoke.

Plans in motion

Are you going to the party later? Yeah, sure. Although apparently security are on look out after that goat got killed. That was fucked up. Yeah, I know. Disgusting. Apparently it was some boys from the rugby team. Nah, I reckon it was those lads who get up on MDMA in the kitchen, sounds like their kind of banter. It’s not banter Andy, it was an animal. Yeah, better an animal than a human though. What are we pre-drinking then? I’ve got a few cans of Foster’s left, and also a bit of Vodka. What about you? Might stick to weed. Bollocks, you’ll be a state. A black state.

I’d like to screw Andy, sadly he is straight and with a girl. But, with enough weed, and enough booze, I may be able to at least suck him off, and film it: straight boy goes gay. Or I could just kill his girlfriend. The idea flutters in my mind. I’m not interested in the party, I will go, because I have to, but ideally there’s a couple who have sex in the woods most nights, and I’d quite like to get it on video. Or I could stumble round campus and film something, there’s a girl in Fielders Court who I’ve been wanting to film for a while, she also sells coke, and this would be a starting point.

Thing is, right, is that we should probably start pre-drinking now, because it’s like 9, and we need to get there by 10, so if we’re gonna get fucked, we should start now? Hey, isn’t that Alfie over there, apparently he’s shagging Dominic, but they’re trying to keep it under raps.

Boys I have on C Drive

I have pictures and films of Alfie. He was a boy in my seminar who was cute, but incredibly dumb and soft. I once considered that he was such a waste of a human being, that I’d be doing people a favour if I just got rid of him. But instead, I drugged him at a party, and fucked and filmed him. I think so anyway, sometimes reality and dreams can blur. But anyway, let’s say I did. I shared the video with Galax23, and he was impressed, both in quality and quantity. It lasted seventeen minutes and fourteen seconds. He himself has videos like it; he’s suggested teaming up to do a joint film and I wonder if Alfie will do.  Alfie approaches and looks nervous. He asks if we’re going to the party

Yeah, mate, you? Yeah, hmm, I reckon so. Should be a laugh, but I have a 9 am so won’t be a late one, probably just have a few and go. Fair shout, man.

He looks at me, a vacant expression, his puppy eyes, and wet lips in mode to ask a question. A flirt or an interrogation? He’s dressed in the usual student fuck up: skinny black jeans rolled up at the bottom, an untucked denim shirt with all the buttons done up. He’s wearing a plastic rosary chain round his neck.

Are you coming, Hugo?

I nod.

And decide he’s ideal.