/pain/ admin here. (Technically I'm posting with my user account, since my admin account is somehow invalid for posting on my own board.) Realistically speaking, I don't expect /pain/ to generate much traffic, but never the less I should elaborate on my intent, beyond what's in the board FAQ. This board is for posting and talking about physical pain, and mental suffering. It lies in the very basic nature of all things mortal to shun pain. It is unwanted. However, this board is here to also cherish pain, as a necessary force for growth. If pain was just bad, we would quickly evolve beyond it. We learn from pain. The people who cause us pain - unless they kill us - are our teachers that we would do well to learn from, even if sources of pain is among the hardest lessons to come to understand. Pain comes in many various forms, and is a language of its own. Here are some examples of pain and its sources: Mistakes, warnings, disabilities, necessary pain, unnecessary pain, violations, situations, loss, hate, vengance, justice... To me pain is a religion. I believe that suffering cleanses our souls from sin and returns us to innocence. Likewise, people who go without pain for too long, are bound to become wicked and evil in their ways. In this way, pain is like a guiding voice of a higher power. Many religious promises pain for sinners after death, in various hells, and while this wishful dreaming fills people with satisfaction, I instead think that pain should be distributed equally while we still live, so that people can hear the voice of the divine and thus be saved. ...so if you complain on this board, know that while I can sympathize to a degree, I will not condemn whatever happened to you, since pain is such a beautiful thing to me.
>>3 There exists a world outside of chans and Twitter, where people use double linefeeds all the time, for the sake of readability. Some book authors even use three. I consciously avoid Reddit because it's so infamously moderated, though, and because there already exists a pain subreddit there, that likely doesn't share or agree with my beliefs.
How to drive Kali out or your leg: Temporary cure: Squat. She will be back in five minutes, though. Try standing on your uninhabited leg, put your inhabited leg behind you, and squeeze your butt. If she's in the outside of your leg, lie on your side with the inhabited leg on top, and squeeze your butt. You can also try balancing on your inhabited leg for a while, if you do a deep stand. If she's nesting really deep inside, try doing slow snatches with your inhabited side.
I was laying in bed and I looked down to see Kali going to town on my cock. I nutted all over her and fell asleep. When I woke up she was gone. I drew a picture of her.
I hate killing people. ...but my goddess is so hungry. I see their confident faces grow pale. I hear their screams and sobs. I cover my ears while she eats. She doesn't care if it's someone close to me, or a complete stranger. She just reaches out and they die. ...and they think that I did it. ...but I didn't do anything. It was her. I can't help it. She won't stop. She's always hungry for more, and they're so weak and tasty. It's as easy as breathing, but it's so unpleasant. Why do I have to kill them? Why do they have to die? My mind can't take this.
I guess it is my fault, in a way. It's all these drugs I'm taking that allows her to manifest. ...but taking drugs is okay. I need these drugs. They make me better. She ate the pizza delivery guy today. He seemed like such a friendly guy, and I took the pizza, and then when I was about to pay him, she... He ran screaming down the hall, but he didn't get far. I can't call that pizza restaurant ever again now. They'll ask questions.
Why must I kill them all? Why must it always end with me standing in a field of bodies? Everywhere I go I bring death. She brings me to all the sites that crumble before my eyes, and I watch them fall like a romantic sunset, and we watch it together, her body inside my body, her mind inside my mind, and I feel my mind die a little each time. ...but it's okay. It's supposed to hurt. It's supposed to die. The living is supposed to mourn the dead. ...and I do love her. Deep down I've never felt this close to anyone else. She kills and I mourn. We're the perfect couple. I love it when she eats their flesh - just face first, like an animal, until her face is just a blanket of dripping blood. I love everything she does. ...and then I mourn, wishing that it had never happened. ...and goddess knows she's the only one who understands me.
I get fucked by goddess Kali almost every day. During the morning, after I've summoned death, she slides her large, firm, rigid penis up my rectum, just like she slides into the rest of my body, until I can cup her breasts protruding from my chest. I love being the vehicle for something as great as a goddess. My life means nothing compared to her will. I love every thrust from her hips as it fills me with servitude for the divine. God it feels so good getting fucked every day! I am Kali's prison bitch and I'm proud of it. Just come fill me up all day every day, PLEASE! My craving for her magnificent cock is unending. I am next to nothing without her.
...and they'll tell you: "...but Anon, getting fucked by such a huge cock is DANGEROUS! You can die! Little boys have died from her massive cock!" Yes, the WEAK may die, and maybe I'll get a bit torn, but it's totally worth it. She is free to use and abuse my flesh, and then toss it aside as a used condom when she's done, because her will being done is the meaning of my life. I feel so alive while she's inside me! Just fuck me as hard as you can! If I rupture, I rupture. The important part is that you get as much divine cock inside of me as possible.
Isn't it strange, that little girls understand that their vaginas are for being filled with small cocks soon enough, but that many people - especially men - can go their whole life without realizing the purpose of their 1.5 meter long rectal cavity? It's not there just so that you can poop through it. It's a goddess receptacle. It's why your life seems so meaningless: A goddess is supposed to fill you with her meaningful cock, and make something purposeful of you. Maybe if you buy one of those long, veiny rubber cocks from the sex shop, you can train yourself to be a good reciever when and if the time comes where she so happens to choose you to carry out her will. The big semi-soft ones feel almost like the real deal. Just insert it in the morning and sit on it all day, and feel how fulfilling it feels all the way up into your soul.
...but it's when her cock reaches your brain and parts your brainmatter aside, that Kali really becomes one with you. That's when you stop existing and you can feel her warm, impregnating semen course through your neurons, in throb after throb. In that moment, when you are just her, and your mortal will no longer exists, you have achieved the ultimate value of your life, your soft brainmatter doing its best to caress her into pleasure.
The hunger for eating the flesh of the dead is strong in my family tree - many times stronger than the average human's. My mother refused her destiny, and she spent her life going in and out of the hospital because of it due to organ failure. Throughout my upbringing she tried to keep me ignorant as well, but she failed. In my waking dreams I see The Great Eater - dreams that come from within, because I am but an unseparable extension of her. The flesh must be eaten.
I used to be able to eat sausages. Then the sausages started to taste like fat. ...and I thought that it was that the manufacturing had changed - that they had started to lower the meat-to-fat ratio in them. ...and so I started to pick sausages with more meat in them. ...and slowly that grew into an obsession over the years. ...but at this point I can only tolerate products with at least 90% meat in them. Only one sausage meets that requirement, and it's the most expensive one. It's not them. It's me. My body does wonderful things with meat. I'm sitting here eating just to cure my headache. Meanwhile those bloody vegans are claiming that veganism will save the planet, as if the problem isn't that the whole planet is just full of meat. I seriously want to find out how they taste. It's basically like eating a vegetable, right? They claim they're so healthy. Let's find out.
This is something more than hunger. There's some sort of malnourishment going on - a craving that shoots straight up into my adrenaline glands for the first ten seconds I taste a piece of unseasoned flesh in my mouth, almost like an orgasm. I've tried protein shakes, but while their protein profiles should be optimized for a normal human, flesh is better. Just thinking about what I just ate only ten minutes ago, is making me salivate like crazy. I think there's some kind of addiction going on. The craving doesn't go away anymore. I have other sources of protein, but I almost always go for the +90% grade flesh. I would actually go for eating flesh rather than sex, right about now. This is crazy.
Can't sleep I'm so hungry, but the cure is on a plate right before me now. Yum-yum.
I still don't understand it: How I can look so human and still be so different. My distraught doctor told me that eating nothing but meat would make me sick, but it feels like it's the only thing that makes me well - that can truly satiate. Just like vegans I take vitamins to make up for any malnutrition. My mother treated meat like it was a garnish, and to the very last, she insisted that I'd eat "the REAL food". I had to basically tell her to shut up, before she finally did. ...and it's ironic how her abstaining from meat, almost killed her. I'm getting healthier by the day. ...and all it takes is murder. All it takes is to murder and murder and murder every day. ...to live. Just to live.
I wonder if it's more than just one deficiency that's responsible for my condition being so intense. There's the condition that I was born with, but there's also something that I'm taking - something that does plenty of good - that depletes my body of another nutrient that's also found only in flesh. I'm still not coping that well. I had a nightmare last night, that I met my parents, only it was all in my head, and I was actually having a violent seizure, my parents standing over me. Then "a true" me appeared, in the doorway, whose face consisted of my parents faces squirming about, trying to blend together, but this vision was all in HER head, and in the real world the real me finally appeared, and her flesh consisted of all things living, with facial features just haphazardly swirling about, and she opened her mockup mouth to speak a word that wasn't of any language I knew, and I woke up wishing that I could understand it. ...and it's like that, I guess: We're not really made out of our own flesh, but eachother's. The flesh of the prey just gives up its form to be transfered into the form of the predator. I'm not really "me", but an amalgamation of everything I've eaten, like The Thing.
Hey, monkey: The screen tells you that you're alright, and that everything's fine, that you're safe inside your cage, and that your front door will keep the outside hell at bay. We'll serve you an endless stream of fancies, to keep you happy and docile. Hey, monkey: If you manage to live up to your minimum standards, and suppress all those times that you failed them, and you acquire good taste and rational justifications, maybe they'll love you, or at the very least accept you. Maybe you'll become somebody else - somebody who's not just a little monkey sitting there, endlessly pushing buttons. Hey, monkey: Do you know how to live with the guilt and the shame, knowing that what they call you is actually true, and yet your evil heart keeps beating regardless, because they haven't gotten around to stopping it yet? ...and yet you just keep staring into that screen, unable to look away, as the days tick away until your inevitable execution. The screen tells you that you're a good person, or at least that it knows how to turn you into a better person. From the hour that you get up, until the hour the you fall asleep, just how many lies do you tell yourself, monkey? Are there even any truths left, buried somewhere in all that dogshit you call a mind? Is anybody even listening to your utopian ideals? Are you anything more than just another customer face that passes the cashiers by at the stores, a face in the crowd, soon to be a worn away name on a cheap tombstone? You're not worthy of love. You're just kept around - stored in your cage, waiting to die.
The doctor is in. What seems to be troubling you today? Tell us your daily physical aches. No ache is too small or insignificant.
OMG! Walking feels so good and painfree! It feels like everything is magically fixed now, and I don't even know what happened! Please never dislocate ever again!
I was walking home today, when Kali suddenly buried one of her long canines into my shoulder, and had me screaming out loud for half the way home. It's gone now, though. Not good times.
Kali is in my right buttocks today, and a little bit in my neck as well. I think it's a good sign.
I hurt all over - my calves, my back, and my chest - so much that my moans border on screams. So much sin to repent for. I thought I could run. I thought I could hide. ...but the shelters were all lies. Their shelters are all lies! Only pain is real.
I finally drove Kali out of my butt. One of her inscissors have been lodged in my right buttcheek for a long, long time. I thought I was done for, but it turns out that all that was needed was to show my leg some love and affection. Hopefully she won't bite me again, because she sure likes my butt. I guess it's because it contains lots of sin.
"Human" is a very broad definition. Once you are born as one, you will always be. ...so perhaps I'm just being a different kind of human as I rip the skin from the flesh. Maybe it's what humans do. It makes a ripping sound, as well as the sound like a wet unwinding roll of tape. As my hands and fingers grab and twist to break open yet another gash, I am barely what society would call "conscious". My brain has stopped formulating words, and there are only sensations left. Briefly I imagine undressing a beautiful woman of her fair skin, and tenderly kissing her exposed muscles tissue. I don't know if I'm washing my hands with water anymore, or if it's blood coming out of the faucet. The meanings blend together, and I see flashes of large metal utensils resting there as well, for severing limbs at the joints. It doesn't matter. These things that I'm apparently doing several times a day, is just what I do now. I don't understand what I've become - what I'm still changing into. Ants are scurring around my apartment, amongst the carcasses that now clutter up its rooms. I thought I got rid of them - thought I killed them all. Time to eat.
It cannot be denied that the chemicals I consume on a daily basis, is changing me on a cellular level. ...and I only have the words of experimental researchers in dark labs to ensure me that the burning sensation throughout my body is "nothing to worry about". The nausea isn't helping either, but at least the taste is bareable. I've drunk worse - things that made raw eggs seem tasty.
...and I've lost weight too, since I've been taking the new stuff: A whole kilo. It's obviously because I've been shitting liquid for weeks now. Hopefully that'll calm down after a few months - I don't think it's good for my body in the long run, but I'm not going back on the dosage.
Why does it all have to hurt so much? Is this what life is supposed to be like - just pain every day, never having any worth; just a maze of violence and agony and death? Why does it have to hurt just to be alive? Is death so bad?
>>591 Life is fine just play video games and buy a modern realistic sex doll. You are literally living in heaven on earth, try being a feudal peasant and see what pain is really about
>>592 If life was so much worse for feudal peasants, why didn't they kill themselves? Why do WORKERS not kill themselves? I can't imagine having a job on top of this. Going to the nearby store is just unimaginable. When I move around the house I feel like I'm going to faint. I hear that people with jobs take painkillers to manage, but that would be very rude to Kali, to tell her to just shut up.
Have you done your daily ritual to keep Kali at bay? She is a hungry goddess, and you think she will eat you last? Hah! You pathetic fool! Affirm your little desperate warding rituals in this thread, but know this: She is coming for you, and she will always triumph in the end! Despair! To Kali goes the spoils!
I'm back from the temple. Both of my legs are half torn off. It's a painful lesson to learn for my hubris. The temple has a secluded inner sactum reserved for the top echelon of devotees, where the purest of interactions with the goddess takes place. If you don't worship in the sanctum, you get no respect. ...and so I figured that I was worthy, skilled and careful enough, and studied how to conduct the rituals properly there, and today I went to speak to my overseer for guidance. He just blew me off - told me to wait until I was deemed worthy. ...but I didn't give a fuck, and so I went ahead with it anyway.
I quickly found out that my body simply couldn't contort enough to perform the ritual as intended. ...and so I improvised by changing things a bit. I basically just dived right in, because I had done it before. It wasn't long before I felt Kali ripping my thighs to shreds. I screamed out a swear in defeat. I could do other rituals, though, but my legs will probably take many days to heal back together again. I hate not being worthy. The priests view me as simply clueless fodder. I want to be more than that. I WILL be more than that one day. Soon. If it takes Kali tearing open my flesh like this, then that's what I'll have to do.
She also managed to bite some skin off my left hand, but it was just the outer layer, so it doesn't bleed.
It still hurts. My torn legs are actually healing fine, but it's my shoulderblades that's been hurting more and more for some strange reason. I feel like such a cripple. Maybe I should just pray from the comfort of my own home today.
I also find it fascinating how Markiplier has his own form of worship: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3bo5PEgkGg It's a lot of superficial silliness, because he's a silly guy, but there's also a sincere message underneath it all.
The people of light. Out there they huddle together like rats, afraid of the dark, having scurried to the most remote place from it they could concieve. They pray that their mad goddess will save them and protect them, and they go along with all of her fancies, because they are afraid of her too. The make up lies like love and friendship, and trust in them. They argue over which ideology is the safest. Then one of us comes and swoops their child away in broad daylight, and kills her, and they don't know what to do. They were supposed to be safe. Iustitia promised. I've always hated trust. It makes a man's sensibilities weak. Trust in people. Trust in ideals. The darkness has none of that. We don't shy away here. We don't have the luxury. We deal with it. We learn how to conquer it with our bare hands.
...and the time will come when they will ask us to fight for them. They will tell you that a great enemy is coming, who will threaten to undo everything that they have done, and replace their light with another light. ...and we will look at them and tell them that we were never their brothers - that we are the forsaken ones, whom will always remain forsaken, and that we will survive empires crumbling around us, for in the dark, there are no sides. The darkness unites us.
You drift out of unconsciouness with their invading penises way up inside you, and after lying there, exploring the anguish of your helplessness, you find out that you're not going back to sleep. The lesson is over, and yet there is still so much more to explore in there. It's not a proper morning until you hit the drugs so hard that you bust a blood vessel. That's your way of manifesting a response. It's not a human response at all, but it's what you can manage. Break the mind - break the body. We're not human. We can't be. We're something different - something abominable and wrong; something that survives through blasphemy, on broken bones. Something darkly innocent, created by evil. I'm fine. I'm fine.
When somebody stabs you in the back, you've got to learn to squeeze it lovingly - how to really suckle the entire length of that steel blade. It's part of you now, and adaptation to it will make you stronger. You'll transition into something inhuman, as you redefine the meaning of "okay".
Pain is a dimension of its own. Some people can live their whole life without knowing the depths of pain. They're missing out on so many flavours. Right now the pain is fresh and stingy, and comes in explosions that burns away your little sanity.
dear sir, (the one who started this board. would you like it if someone took a leather strap and beat you 3/4's to death with it? is that what you want? im not understanding you or this board well... would you like it most if 'Greata Thunberg' were the one to whip you with the strap? please help me understand
>>469 lul I would like to understand it as well
>>471 Well, if >>470 wasn't enough of an explanation, be more specific.
>>470 thanks for responding. have you ever , or will you ever ; describe how you came about PTSD ?
>>487 I doubt that's important, but if you've been observant, you already know. Is this where I say "Lurk moar!"?
Goto beach Sit down, look up See this Wat do¿
Id rather see something like this tbh
Is it just me, or are girls getting hotter every year?
>>76 ask her >where are your boobs?
Itt: we cray a river. Let it all out. Show me on the doll where he hurt you..
This would be a great exercise, but I don't think I'm ready yet. Maybe someday I'll bring myself to do this. I hope you'll be there to laugh at me then - to really rub it in and humiliate me until the last trace of pain has scorched me all the way through.
>>44 Ben Shapiro here Check em, then deleteet this
>>47 >delete this This isn't cuckchan m8
>>44 >>47 >>48 >Samefagging, and even making the thread off-topic to begin with. It's like a self-contained story, with a beginning, middle and end, but that all takes part in a flashback, since the opening scene is the protagonist's death. This is the Citizen Kane of Enrive.