Sighinide

I’m going on vacation this week. I’m going to Iowa again, to visit my Grandmother.

I really do love rural Iowa. I’m sure that such a sentiment would seem odd to my girlfriends, who thrive in a highly upper class environment. But it makes sense to me.

There’s real luxury in being able to be alone somewhere where people don’t know you. It gives you a kind of peace that no antique trinket can give.

To be able to be alone- with your thoughts and nothing else- helps you clear your mind and focus. Where I’m going, there’s no need to worry about anything.

I hope that my girlfriends have such places… but I doubt it. Fame like the kind that Swifty and Hathaway have is a monster that follows you everywhere (or, at least, that’s how I would perceive it).

Perhaps the isolation that I look forward to would be a punishment for them. It takes all kinds.

P.S. This is reason # 5629 why immigration into the US needs to be stopped. Why is it mandated that we must encounter bizarre and violent people everywhere we go? Whatever happened to allowing decent people to have sanctuaries, where they can be free to be themselves?

Last night, I saw Taylor Swift in concert.

The concert was really, really good. It was Taylor, of course! But as good as the concert was, I couldn’t help but think that the price I paid for the tickets- $600 total, as I went with my sister- was a bit steep. Taylor’s music was, after all, not aimed at thirty-something men, and it was obvious that the others there, most of whom were young girls, got more out of experience than I did.

After the show ended, my sister and I made our way out of the venue. Before leaving, I mentioned to her that I wanted to buy a program as a souvenier. After all, I had paid far too much for the tickets to allow the memories of the show to just fade away.

“Ok, but be quick. We need to leave as soon as possible to avoid the traffic jam on the way out. I’ll be waiting next to the car.” She said.

“Don’t worry!” She was right, after all. I sprinted down the hall to the souvenier stand. After getting the program, I took a risk and went down a different hallway, thinking that it would give a faster route to the parking lot.

It didn’t. I was lost. I cursed my bad luck. “Damn!” I murmed. What a waste of time! I could just feel my sister fuming.

As I wandered, I noticed something shocking- I was right outside Taylor’s dressing room! Not wanting to be caught by security, I was about to retrace my steps, when I saw Taylor walking down the hall towards me! She was strikingly beautiful. Her body and face were absolutely flawless. Her tight shorts were clinging to her. She froze as soon as she saw me.

At first, I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid that she would call security, so I explained to her that I was lost, and that I was just about to make my way out. Trying to ease her further, I told her that she was amazing and incredible on stage- and she blushed a warm red.

“Why, thank you.” She cooed, while playing with her hair. “It’s nice to know that my fans appreciate me.”

She then flipped her hair back, revealing her top. She was still wearing what she wore during her last song. The top’s sides were sheer, so I could plainly see Taylor’s soft arms and the sides of her breasts. I could almost see her nipples, which were hard and prominent from rubbing against the super tight shirt during her performance.

Taking a quick liberty, I glanced at her snug shorts, which were a form fitting black leather. I could easily see the impression of her sexy, supple legs against the tight fabric.

“You’re in my way.” she scolded- a reminder that regardless of how playful she looks that there was a distance between us that should be respected.

“Sorry. Thanks for the concert, Taylor.”

After that short exchange, I awkwardly stopped talking and started to walk by her on my way out.

And then- I’m not sure why- inspiration struck me. I pinched her- not on the butt, but on that little area right below her butt and on top of her legs. It was, of course, exposed. It wasn’t a hard pinch, but she felt it. So did I.

“OOOOH!!!” She quickly spun around, shocked and offended.

My face flushed bright red. I was terrified. Why had I done this? Surely, she would call security!

Upon seeing the look of horror on my face, she softened. Then… she giggled.

“Don’t worry.” She cooed. “I love my fans.” Then she completed the thought with a sexy little wink.

She blushed, and then skipped down the hall to her dressing room. Right before closing the door, she winked again, smiled, and blew me a kiss.

The tickets were worth the price.

I am a tyrant.

I am a tyrant not in the old sense of the word- a racial minority occupying the country of another race- but in the new sense of it; I am an unaccountable overlord.

I know tyranny. Both kinds of it. I see the old kind in Obama, a black who “leads” a nation of whites. And I see the new kind in myself- an unaccountable dictator who rules over his subject’s bodies and minds with an iron fist.

I believe I know why the ancients despised “minority rule” tyranny. It cannot help but be oppressive and cruel. People have an instinctive revulsion to following the orders of someone unlike them, so the only way to coerce them into doing so is through violence and mass intimidation. Hence the Obama administration, and the Bush administration (which I consider to have been run by Israelis).

My kind of tyranny seems to be… good, which surprises me as a natural libertarian. I had always believed that a man’s ultimate yearning was to be free, but now I see that many peoples’ cries for freedom are really complaints. Most people don’t want to be free. It comforts them to know that there is someone smart and powerful above them. My control over my subjects actually buoys them, bringing them closer to my level and propelling them to greater heights and achievements.

My college self would stop me from saying this, and I hesitate to even type it now, but perhaps George Bernard Shaw was correct, and a benevolent dictatorship actually is the best form of government. It seems that an example of greatness and transcendence is needed to bring out the best in people. It gives them something to respect and boundaries to follow. In short, it gives them a direction, even without laws.

In a perfect world, no tyranny would be necessary. People would simply achieve greatness on their own terms, without needing domination by others. But we don’t live in such a world, do we? In that case, can we have my version of tyranny in the United States, instead of Obama’s? Ah, to dream…

Since I can be sure that nobody is reading this blog, I can go ahead and use this place to vent. I think I’ll use it as a kind of online diary.

I have a twitter feed, but it’s more public than I would like. Even though I don’t have followers, I think that people still read it- which is kind of a mixed blessing. I want some people to read it (primarily my girlfriends), but I don’t want too many to do so.

I wish that life these days could be easier. I feel like I don’t have a choice but to be public with my thoughts and feelings, even when I don’t want to.

You do what you must do to survive, I guess.

I hate living at home at my age. It’s humiliating. I hate television and how it hates me. I hate the government and how it hates me. I hate everything.

My life is fragile. Very, very fragile. I don’t see myself as having much of a future.

I’m not sure how to live without money, and within a system that trying to destroy me.

All I can do is demoralize the system from the inside. I haven’t really expressed any real anger at anyone… yet. We shall see what the future holds, though.

I think I’ll fuck Elisha Cuthbert this morning. She’s one of my all time favs- I’ve slept with her hundreds of times. I love how she orgasms. I love how I can feel her legs under me as I slide into and out of her. Then, I might fuck another one of my wives. Maybe Mary-Elizabeth Winstead. I’ve had some doubts about her recently, after learning that her wedding ring wasn’t for me, but I think I’ll go back to her after all. I just can’t resist the pussy.

No fake. I cannot post thumbnails because if I do that, she will know about this (I communicate telepathically with pictures). Anyhoo, the links to the Taylor Swift nude pics are here:

http://sighinide.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/TaylorSwiftNude2.jpg

http://sighinide.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/TaylorSwiftNude3.jpg

http://sighinide.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/taylor_swift_topless.jpg

The girl in question here is Taylor Swift. Yeah, that’s her pussy. I can prove it easy. In the pussy shot, look at the door behind her. Her arm is covering part of a giant number “13” on the door, and the word “FEARLESS” is taped to the door, too. It’s her.

Also, compare the girls. Hair is same color, length, texture, and parted the same place. Same curls, even. Nipples are the same size and position as pics where you can see imprints of them. Same skin color, face, height, weight, body shape, breast size, etc. Hands and arms are identical. Same birthmark above her lip in the other “yellowish” pic in this set as you can see in paparazzi pics of her.

She leaked the pics for me. The room is filled with stuff that appeals, or used to appeal, to me. Chicago Bulls, comic book stuff, SNL, books, rock and roll stuff, etc.

Thank you, Taylor. I love you.

I need to do homework.  Perhaps fighting can wait, for now.

I think alot about suicide, because it just seems hopeless.  My government is trying to kill me, and there’s nothing I can do about it, yet.  No jobs, no future, no respect from anyone.  I hate life today and want it all over sometimes.  I know I’m not alone in feeling this, either.

There is one thing that I can do, though, and that is get others (my friends, the celebrities), to side with me by posting my thoughts on twitter.  I will probably end up doing this.

I’m scared, though.  The US government is a terrifying, terrifying organization.  It is hateful, corrupt, and monstrous in the extreme- the most awful man made organization in Earth’s history.  There is no telling what it will do when Obama is re-elected.

It says alot that I’m scared, even now, of typing the things I’m typing, even though nothing I’ve said here is illegal, and nobody will read this anyways.

I guess there is only one thing to do, isn’t there?  I must tell my celebrity friends the truth- to lead them away from Obama and closer to me.  I want them to remember me as a brave man, so that when I leave them, they will still respect me.

I must fight.  There is no other way.  Nobody will “rescue” me.  I need to stand my ground and create my own future.

No human is actually reading this, right?