Annie

19 April 1980

Female

I'm a 31-year-old internet marketer who, for the most part, is just an average person. Turn offs include arrogance, unwillingness to learn, and people who eat Chinese food with a fork. Turn ons include humbleness, curiosity, and chopsticks. And men who want to kill me...

I was never abused as a child, never neglected. I'm not a goth in dark lipstick, nor do I suffer from any kind of post traumatic stress. I'm just a regular, single, working girl who's doing her best to pull her own weight through the world. There's nothing "wrong" with me. And I've been having fantasies of my own death since I was in 3rd grade. Back then it was a car accident.

Now, whenever I walk past an alley, when I see an empty parking lot, I think to myself, "do I want to die here?" I just put myself into all these different scenarios. When I see people walking around--especially good looking men--I'll think to myself, "He can kill me anytime."

I don't just think about this stuff late at night, in the dark, as both my fingers and my mind wander. I mean, I do, but not only then. This is what I think about every waking moment of every day--and I think about it happening to me. It's not just a fetish for me, it's a lifestyle.

"Life is hard. Then you die. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Be grateful it happens in that order."

It all varies so much. I like everything from clean killings (i.e. asphyxia) to gory mutilations that leave me unrecognizable. I'm almost always willing, and sometimes it's solely my idea. Sometimes it's mutual. Sometimes it's his idea. Sometimes I need some convincing. Sometimes we're alone; sometimes people watch. It's all just a means to an end I think.

What turns me on about death isn't really the method of killing (though I do prefer some methods to others) so much so as what it all represents--even if only to me. Being a willing snuffete involves self-loathing. Death generally is very public. It's a loss of all privacy (two days after any one of us turns cold, someone will be going through our stuff), which can be humiliating. It's also incredibly degrading to go from a living, thinking, being to an inanimate object that smells like what's coming out of that old Tupperware container at the back of the 'fridge.

So, for me, it's more about humiliation, degradation, and self-loathing than it is about the pleasure I would get from a knife piercing my throat (seriously, who would actually enjoy that?)

Men who sweat, get dirty, work with their hands, have body odor and body hair, wear tight jeans, and generally have bad attitudes. Not exactly a fetish, more of a type, but there you go.

Chat, share some ideas, create a scene and play it out. Not really sure.

I'm usually looking for my next ex-boyfriend, but this just doesn't seem like the place to do that. While I like the gruesome realities of death (decomposition anyone?), I don't really want to die. At least, not yet. So, I wouldn't feel comfortable being in a room with anyone who's said they want to murder me.