paraphilia / a.i

ashton

It’s all the same again. The crappy food is still as crappy as it was last week, and even today I found a hair! How lucky am I! This week was pizza, thank god, but it still sucked. Everything sucks here. But of course the girls don’t. “Its against the rules” apparently. Since when have I ever listened to the rules? It’s been three weeks since I’ve been here and it’s possibly the worst thing I have ever experienced in my life. We have group every three hours, which is also dumb, why not just once?

There’s eight people in my group and none of them are decently attractive. I honestly don’t care anymore about attractiveness on the 1 to 10 scale, I just need something to get me through the week. Josh, the group leader, always chews his gum with his mouth open and the sound travels across the small room and it takes all I have to not get up and punch him straight in the jaw. That’s also another thing wrong with this place, they won’t even let me go to the gym and get my anger out by running or punching a mat, instead they keep me bundled in this little grey room, where I have nothing to punch unless I would break my hand and I’m pretty sure my mom would not appreciate that bill.

I really don’t get why I’m even in here. It’s not like I’m addicted to meth or crack cocaine, not even close to that. I don’t have depression or some other mental disorder, I’m just a normal kid with a normal family and a normal house. It’s not my fault I think sex is fun. Who doesn’t think sex is fun? Nuns probably. But still, is that any reason to put me into a mental hospital? Does my mother expect me to go however long they expect to keep me in here for without having sex? Plus, its not like I have gotten any girl pregnant so far, if I did then I would’ve understood if they put me in here. How did my mother even find out about me anyway? It’s not like I would ever tell her what I do on my Friday nights anyway.

After group ends for the third and final time, it’s around 9, so we have no choice but to go to our rooms. I share my room with a short and stumpy little kid who thinks he’s my best friend and follows me around everywhere. It’s nice that he thinks I’m cool enough to be around, but all he talks about is video games and how much he can’t wait to get out of here and how hot the nurse who works at the front desk is. No one in this place understands what I want to do and what I don’t want to do. No one anywhere understands me. I don’t even understand me. All I know is that I like sex. Half the people hear flinch or gasp at the sound of that word, it’s probably the only thing getting me through lately. Being in this place is going to give me more problems than I even started out with.

The kid, Buckley, is now snoring obnoxiously loud and I don’t even know how he fell asleep that fast, we literally just got to our rooms fifteen minutes ago. Probably all the pizza he consumed at dinner. I swear that kid eats more than a cow.

They make us write every day at some point, and I don’t see how he finished writing that fast unless he just wrote a word or a sentence or two. I like writing, it’s nice. But sex is better.

Fuck I just really want sex now.

How do they even expect to ‘fix’ me? Are they going to make me ‘pure?’ Good luck.

I really need to get out of here. Now.

-ashton