really the only sex that matters is complete and absolute self destruction in devotion to another
yes, yes, brainwashing that leaves you hollowed out and empty for your superior is cool i guess. what if you did that to yourself though? what if in a fit of idolatrous admiration you gradually and methodically stripped apart every semblance of your coherent personhood and supplanted it with the idealized light of another's will? what if this other person doesn't even wish for you to do this, what if they beg you to turn back before they mourn what was lost, and what if you're too far gone to even care? it wasn't really for her, was it. you needed this.
basically in this essay i'll be explaining why seeking the name singlehandedly makes fallen london a deeply sexual game to the specific type of pervert i am



























