So, here’s a story, about psychosis.
Imagine this: You spend every sleeping and waking minute of your childhood. from say.... age 3 to oh, age 11 Terrified of clowns. I don’t mean like, make you cry, or hide your face kind of scared. I mean piss your pants, hug your mamma and kiss your ass goodbye terrified.Now, *poof* you’re an adult. You have needs, you have urges and they must, no they WILL be satisfied. But, you’re not like “those other guys”, your shit’s broken. Your needs can only be met by those same clowns that scared you shitpants as a kid. Now, I’m not saying I’m all kinky clown fetish. Far from it. Clowns are all well and good when they’re not coming off as pedo-bears. For me, My terror was one guy, and well, a syringe. Buddy Hackett. Chubby, funny, silly as hell, driver of “Herbie the Love Bug” for Disney. This mother fucker scared me to death. I couldn't watch Any movie that had him in it (and they were all funny) without having night terrors for weeks. My shit was so bad, I’d lie in bed, on my stomach and I’d hear my own heartbeat. But, for me, I didn't realize that the thumping I’d heard was actually Me. No it was my personal boogie man, sneaking up on me, up the stairs, down the hallway, in the dark, to stab me with his magical poisoned syringe. Once injected, I’d “die” only to get up and run away, and have it all happen over again, for about 10-20 cycles per night. until I finally passed out from sheer mental exhaustion.
So, that’s the terror part, here’s the Really weird part. I’m a chubby chaser. I seek out, and target, and objectify men of size. Large, jolly, chubby, hopefully silly men for my personal relations and pleasures. So, I start out being completely pants pissing terrified of big guys, only to end up in my adult life finding them the #1 object of my desires.
Yeah.... I got it like that.
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