If my country is “third world”, yours is a “shit hole”. I can’t even shit in your public can without a citizen keycard. You all should get your heads checked.
— Salisa to Anton, March 30th, 2026
The information desk lady at the Kassa ticket office gave me the look when I asked if I could see my Pootookie. What the hell was that about?
— Salisa to Anton, March 27th, 2026
At some point, I’ll have to disengage to keep the sanity. But also: what a waste of time and resources, mine and yours. Yours especially. Tremendous efforts spanning years with no ultimate clincher or decisive end in sight. Just like the war in Ukraine.
— Salisa to Anton, March 29th, 2026
And why did you sic them drones on me again? Isn’t there supposed to be a no-fly zone in Moscow? Can anyone hijack them and run them all into a tree?
— Salisa to Anton, March 30th, 2026
RECAP !!
March 10th, to Henry
New haircut! Always go bob or go home. Reminds me of the time I was living in Khon Kaen and was feeling old so decided to sport a really short bob like philtrum-short Amélie style (is the movie any good?). I remember walking into the office and my colleague looked shocked, “Oh my god! Your hair is so short!” and I said to him wryly “I like to get my money’s worth”.
Or the time when I cut my own hair? You weren’t here to make fun of me. Was it during COVID or maybe I was trying to save money or was simply too lazy to get my ass out of the house. Who knows what goes on in my head at any given moment. So I took the scissors and sheared off the back of my head in one go. Having a mirror didn’t help. Probably a choppy look from behind. The only time someone said anything about it was when I realised I might have fucked up big time so went to see a hair dresser for a fix and the first thing she said to me side-eying the back of my head, “You cut your own hair didn’t you?”. Was it such a crime?
I think I did a bang-up self-job on my bang though if you look closely it’s a bit serrated and uneven. But hey if Dakota Johnson managed to get away with that awful bang of hers in fifty shades of grey then I think I can get away with anything.
March 11th, to Henry
Now I regret cutting my hair so short! That’s just gonna be weird…
March 18th
Salisa: Why did you say I should go to Russia? I don’t know what you’re saying with your last message…
Henry: I didn’t. I asked if you had a passport.
Salisa: Oh well. I see. You should type a proper sentence sweetie. Should I try to get a refund for my flights? Its hella expensive.
Henry: I’m asking you if you are worried that you aren’t thinking clearly sometimes
Salisa: What would be considered clearly? What do you suggest I do? Maybe I should fly to London instead. Let’s see how this thing blows up. I’ll be chilling with popcorn and all. I’ll be enjoying my new power.
Salisa: I know what my limits are. And I’m nearing my limits. Sometimes that includes not thinking clearly as a symptom.
March 18th, to Henry
My point is.. and I’ve said this before that I don’t mind being with both of them as long as they are both okay with it and I’m not going to be murdered by either of them. Anton’s threats have been getting more and more airtime since last week hence the emergency freak out and heading to Moscow.
And who knows if […]’s already got a few on the side as we speak […] and Anton occasionally acts like a sex addict so good if he can bugger off and go bother some girl. It’s becoming clear Anton is getting more unhinged the more I ignore him lately (don’t check his twitter in days). So I don’t know what’s going on on that side with the Russians. It’s not good this thing with me, you know. I’ve already brought calamity on them last year […]. This year the infighting made me sad, scared, irate, and a little pissed. I just want it all over with.
March 18th, to Henry
Sweetie the “I’m all yours” thing is called cushioning the blow if plan A falls apart. You cannot think on a purely sentimental or wishful term in this game you wouldn’t have lasted as long as I have. And you know that I’m smack-talking and spit-balling most of the time anyway. Ideally the best thing for me to consider/do if things don’t happen […] in Moscow is to take advantage of the fact that […] might be in the running […]. But I don’t want to just coldly scheme my way into a situation that’s best for me objectively without any input of feelings or considerations on the matter of the heart. That would be insulting to […] as well implying that he’s just an instrumental means to some end. Maybe I should be angling for some other siloviki member of the same rank or higher as Anton […] and some of those men might be in need of a sugar baby or an extra side piece. But that’s just sad even if I might end up better off preserving my dignity and integrity in the long run. At the end of the day, you have to balance the head with the heart. You cannot be all heart and wishful thinking or all head and careful maneuvering. But this kind of talk does inflate my importance and standing and free choice a bit. If […] or some other friend of Anton orders that I get picked up and delivered to their residence in Moscow there is not much I can do (but I take solace in the fact that the hostel I booked is right across the street from the Polish embassy and I can make a quick run for it if things get dicey.. do you think the Poles would be sympathetic to my plight? Probably not but you see it’s good to obsessively indulge in useless fantasies in my situation… Or yet a better way out in case of emergency is right across the street from the Kremlin which is the British ambassador’s private residence.. that or I track down where Steve Rosenberg lives I’m sure he can get me in touch with his MI6 contact but now I’m revealing all the hidden cards up my sleeves and spoiling an exciting plot point of a Hollywood thriller in the making). But it’s a gentleman’s game as much as the lady’s so I’m sure they won’t do that. More likely though they will just let me run around and do whatever I want over there and prank my ass to scare me for laughs. Maybe they will make me think I’m getting extracted and smuggled out by MI6 agents in an audacious escape attempt that grips the entire world like another real life Argo when they are in fact secretly taking me out to some penal colony in Siberia where I’ll have to sleep in a cell and work my freezing ass off for a few weeks until I learn my lessons. You see, now the Moscow trip starts to sound like fun when you lean into the humour of it all.
March 21st, to Anton
The plight we all collectively share.. it’s because of everything you did and did not do. What you said and did not say. No one stopped you either. No one thought of putting any stop to it over the course of a year. I’ve done my best in the way that I can. It could have been so simple. So neat. So easy. But instead you made it difficult, messy and painful. For me, for yourself, and for everyone involved. We could have been together months ago had you been stronger than me, smarter in how we went about it than me, and braver at the most scariest points than me. Your weakness and short-sightedness and penchant for destruction and chaos condemned us all to death and destruction. And everyone just sat back and let it happen. Maybe it’s time to admit we all share that fault. And if I am to be blamed for it all, then so should you.
[…]
How am I supposed to know anything about anyone? How am I supposed to navigate this with you when you’re not even trying. I am alone in all this, don’t you see? I don’t have sights or reports or analyses on you and what’s going on. I am talking into thin air like a mad woman because you are not really there. You don’t really exist except as a piece of fiction I will have forgotten as soon as this blows over.
You can type into the twitter space but not to me, why exactly? Does anyone know? Care? Bother to care? I think they did in the beginning, but because you’re so hopeless and insensate they don’t even try talking you into doing anything anymore. It just is. Things just are. Even if the world hinges on this most insignificant action. World, love, life… Why does it all matter anyway? You don’t like any of them anyway. You hate the world, you spit on love, you are sick of life. But why do I have to suffer for it? Why does anyone?
Say, I make it in Moscow, you won’t talk to me. If I don’t, you won’t either. So what’s the point to all this? Why would I want anything to do with you? Do you want anything to do with me? Answer honestly. Or do you still dread talking to girls? Habits die hard, huh? Do you know what separates nerds from dorks? Dorks know how to talk to a woman, nerds don’t and don’t even try. They are just so happy to be so miserable in their own little world. They are so pathetic I suggest we all breed them out of the gene pools.
[…]
This is why men your age keep falling for romance scams I believe. Tale as old as time. It’s not that they don’t have a good head screwed on right. It’s just that they like the idle fantasies. Keep them astir in their real everyday life full of disappointment and decline. They have no intention of having any of the fantasies come into fruition. That would just defeat the whole purpose of it. And of course most men are too poor to afford running the world into the ground over a piece of fantasy so instead they buy OnlyFans subscriptions. Why can’t you all just subscribe to OnlyFans?
[…]
So I guess this is what masculine ideals for your culture look like then. Opening a channel of communication and treating women with open ears and open heart are considered weak and unmanly and stupid. Wow, you guys really are weak and unmanly and stupid. Maybe that’s why you need to subjugate women so damn much under the guise of traditional values. So unintelligent and unintelligible. So weak and unmanly and stupid. Fragile masculinity as they say.
I’ve never been a yappy one in a relationship. But then again I don’t usually go out with silly weak men I have to mother and castigate so constantly and incessantly. But now I just like doing it for show. For the whole world, so to say. This is what the best specimen for their kind is like, ladies and gents. No wonder the world doesn’t take you guys seriously.
People with the weakest constitution require the strongest paternalistic institution to govern them. That’s the generic insight that rings true in this case.
Good behaviour, nope. Good judgement, nope. Good faith, still nope. What do you want with me?
Really, what do you want from me? Why does anything that goes on in your head have anything to do with me?
[…]
I don’t care for your attention honestly. I need to secure a safe exit for me. I need you to say “yes” to the question “will you leave me alone?” and actually mean it. I know you don’t like to lie and manipulate your way by lying. I admire that about you. Which is why it means the world to me if you promise me to stay the hell out of my life.
You know that a trip to Moscow is a variation of that question. I need two yes’s then I’m outta here.
But I know you won’t give me a yes. Or a no. Or anything for that matter. You just like to ruin beautiful things. To set them on fire. Because it’s antithetical to who you are. You are jealous of it and want to see it ruined. There is nothing more to you and nothing less.
Prove me wrong. Prove that you actually want me. You can certainly love someone or fall in love with someone without actually wanting them or being with them in person. For example, I love Danya. You know that which is precisely why you took him away from me. He loved to share anecdotes and would often say, “that’s the story I am going to tell my grandchildren one day.” Or “that’s something I’d like to teach my future grandchildren”. Grandchildren! He didn’t even get a chance at life to have children! So even if I like to glaze my eyes over him and hear him chat away or commentate, even if one day I have the means and the opportunity to go to Charlotte and sit in his lectures, I probably wouldn’t. Because we don’t actually mesh goals. And also I’d never do that to a man, let alone someone I like or love. And what if he doesn’t want me in person? What if I’ve spent all these years fancying him and fantasising about us and it turns out just a dud and a giant dumpster fire? That would hurt, wouldn’t it? It doesn’t matter if he rejects me or we fail organically. It will add up to failure and wasted years. And so you are procrastinating your life to avoid what could turn out to be a failure by wasting years. Yours and mine combined. Which is incredibly stupid and nonsensical if we all think about it. I won’t be able to leave you even if I want to. Just don’t let me leave then. So why is it bothering you so much? Why us being together finally bothers a great deal out of you? I don’t understand this.
Don’t paralyse yourself into inaction. At some point you will have to finally do something about this. About us. Why aren’t you doing anything? Why am I the one taking all the initiatives and proposing real-life solutions? Why are you spinning yarn with your words and poems and fictions online like a moody pillow princess on Tumblr? Why am I doing all the work for us while you just sit back and daydream? In what way are you a man in this “relationship” and me a woman? And I already said I don’t actually like gender reversal in a relationship. You pretty much preach the same thing! So there shouldn’t be any problem, should it? Live out your goddamn philosophy and act out on your principles. Be a man to your woman. Though in all honesty I don’t actually mind gender-reversed roles if you’re just out and about with what you need. Preference isn’t fixation and is malleable. If you admit to yourself that you need to be babied and treated like a spoiled princess while I need to man up, then I have no real problems. You just have to admit it to yourself so then we’re on the same page.
Though I am smack-talking you. Because if you ask me what I want to see most in any relationship, it’s just for people to be people. Screw gender roles, man. They are so stupid. Some men will be more effeminate than others and so what? Who cares? We no longer live in a world where men have to pick up swords and ammunition to fight tribal or world wars. Men are safe to be who they are these days. It’s this outdated philosophy trying to twist some poor mind and some poor soul into an ill-fitted ill-fated mold for no good reason just because some dead people say so. You have to be able to resist cultural dysfunction as much as female dysfunction. It takes a mere man to deal with women but a supreme one to denounce culture. And what’s necessarily bad about it if there are no gender roles? I can tell you we have none in my culture and people of both genders seem happier that way. And when people are at peace with themselves and have good happy relationships with others because there are no expectations to act in one relational way rather than other, then there is no social or interpersonal friction and men and women get together as themselves and couple up and breed just as or even more happily. There’s nothing inherently groundbreaking about it.
I like to mock you not being the “man” because it’s just hurtful rhetoric and I have very little ammunition to mount any offensive on you. I see that’s the wrong “strategy”. I should go on deconstructing and denouncing gender roles in an effort to make you feel better about yourself but what would be the fun in that? What am I left to prick you with?
At this point I’m just so sick and tired of indulging in all your romantic fictions and made-up fantasies. Whoever’s. Not necessary for me to entertain them anymore. What’s the point anyway? It’s not getting anyone anywhere. Completely of no use. And I am too young to be that delusional and destructive and dumb.. given the choice.
I am this close to getting on with life not caring about glitches and incidents that may befall me. If people die around me then whoops condolences. All because you are that useless and ineffectual. With all the hands and advantages gifted to you, you just don’t know what to do with them. Don’t know how to use them to further your own interests. Your own very personal interests. Your friends gifted pearls to a monkey. A very sensitive nonsensible one at that. You can never win at anything. You are hopeless at this game. You are incapable of thinking through even the simplest combinations or calculations or consequences of any real-world events and thus unable to tilt them in your favours. And instead of being upfront and honest and open-hearted about things, you close up and cling to your comfort branch tightly like a scared stubborn monkey. You don’t know how to make leaps and bounds. You are too scared to ever make anything happen. Even if everything and everyone tilts in your favours.
If you want me to feel bad about things going wrong in my life, troubles I bring on other people, which works both as a deterrent and a motivator, there must be a strong causal chain of cause -> effect, where I can be framed as the originator of cause. But now that chain is getting weaker and me as the link to any chain of events starts to feel very faint. It’s God’s will then. It’s God’s wrath. He does whatever he wants. He smites whoever and wherever. Who cares. There are no rhymes or reasons to anything you do. I have no power to affect any real changes. To put any stop to it. I’ve been trying to put a stop to things for as long as I could since last year but much to no avail. If I couldn’t make you pay any attention to me then, what’s the point of rallying for your attention now? I couldn’t even get you talking to me to cool things down when the heat was on everyone, so what chance do I have to get you talking to me now that nothing is really at stake? You are just going to keep coasting and covering up your eyes and ears. There will be no real punishment and no heat on me. Because there are no real causal links and no reprieve for mercy. All because you are so incapable. All reflecting that your mind is really empty and lacking. You cannot perceive causation within your own mind. Events happen so randomly and haphazardly and confusingly. So you manifest it outward. So there is no causation, no rhyme or reason, no behavioural chain and corollary to anything you do. If your friends and your men cannot perceive any of this, that you lack the most basic mental functioning in a healthy normal human mind, then so be it. Keep ruining my life and killing people for all I care. I don’t know how to make it stop. I hope someone elsewhere on the other side has a good sense to make the right call to put me down painlessly. Get me fentanyl. I will ask for it when the time comes.
Remember when I asked unenthusiastically, because in a way I already knew what response I was going to get, about what changed in your mind from then and now? You said you wanted to come to Bangkok when it all began, but by January you didn’t want to. So I asked “what changed?” and you started freaking out and stuttering and stumbling over your words. That’s because you really don’t know. That would require the inborn intuitive ability to perceive the cause of these feelings and the chain of events associated with it. It would require knowing your own mind and understanding the world. You lack the ability that comes so effortlessly to others in the most profound way. Feelings and things arise within you without prompting without any reason. That sounds scary and freaky, doesn’t it? Infants are overwhelmed by this in the same way you are but as they mature they develop the emotional and intellectual faculties that you never did. Normal adults can make sense of their own emotion if they could understand what brings it about. If they understand the nature of it, the context of it, the reason for it, the cause of it. If they can control it or quell it or affect meaningful changes outside themselves in order to make them go away. The latter would require you to deal with other people. But you lack the social skills too, because that’s just an extension to and another layer of the same lack. Anything remotely involving your own emotions or social dealing with other people, you are absolutely hindered. I understand this about you, so all I ask is for you to try to understand where I’m coming from and to work with me. That’s it. It’s pretty simple.
But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe now you will pay more attention to my needs as you have been doing by replying quickly to me because things aren’t so chaotic and stressful and you have gotten a hold of yourself. So I have to be grateful for your kindness and consideration so far.
You know, the more impoverished your thinking is, the more you’re supposed to compensate with action and honesty rather than inaction and feelings. You think I was too stupid to understand what you wanted from me, didn’t you? How does it feel to find out we’re not even on the same level of thought and of thinking and that you’re the stupid one in all this?
How complex are your thoughts really? Compared to mine? Like, dazzle me with how deep and precise and sophisticated and expansive your mind is. Reason out your actions and your plans. Enumerate all the possible courses of action and their respective likelihood. All the variables including me and you and everyone else in the equation. Tell me why you prefer this one path instead of all the others. Tell me the risks, the pitfalls, the benefits, the tradeoffs. What’s the philosophy governing your decision? On what principle is it based upon? What layers of reality and circles of interest does it concern? If you could think like this, then we should talk. But I’m not listening to or looking for your guidance anymore. And you don’t get to browbeat me like a dumb brute. If you do then I will indulge you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone some more. You are as impressive as people you surround yourself with. You like being the smartest guy in the smallest room with the smallest minds. That’s why you surrounded yourself with unintelligent women and low-minded men. And you were too unintelligent yourself to discern how that wouldn’t work out. You’ve been going about it for over a decade, right? Underneath your biggest most puzzling intractable life problems lies some very simple solutions. It takes a man of real acumen and intelligence to ferret them out. You have no capacity or ability for that. We all think it’s your emotions that’s the problem. Some very technically intelligent men can be so emotionally stupid. But its clear that your ability to think through and discern motives and actions is also impaired. It’s the thoughts and lack of overall behavioural efficacy that’s the problem. If you think badly, you act badly. If you act badly with no one willing to put a brake on it, you live badly. Then you die ignominiously.
March 22nd, to Anton
Anton: so you wanna be in a relationship with me, but you dont wanna talk to me. find the mistake…
Salisa: A relationship with someone from a piss poor nation where the best and brightest of men – the so-called intelligent and intellectual men, the most capable and ruthless and commanding – find their mind mates in girls who dance and bend their bodies for a living? That would be rather insulting to my intellectual stature and standing, don’t you think? Do you know any other prosperous nation where such is the standard for respectable individuals, let alone their men? And you guys do so bashfully and innocently too! No wonder they all think you guys are a joke and keep provoking you into a war-torn country. Weak constitution at the bottom, weak constitution at the top. Weak constitution as per letters of the law too! Like, we all make fun of Western men marrying third-world prostitutes, but are these women of yours even educated? And you find them all very satisfying in a relationship, huh? That would explain the entirety of our interaction and courtship actually! Remember when I asked you skeptically on the phone at the beginning, “is this how you talk to girls?” And you enthusiastically and naively replied with an affirmative? LOL. Maybe that’s how Russian men talk to their girls. My, my. Maybe I read too much into you as a man and not enough into your culture as a whole. What brain-dead duds you are, really. Aren’t you thoroughly ashamed of all your fine selves? I guess not… If this were the West, it’d be like talking to their garbage man. The low-quality and low-effort conversation. The nonexistent mutual meeting of the minds (and the nonexistence seems mutual). How I am unchallenged and bored out of my mind talking with you and so dreading it. How you don’t ever ask me any questions. How you never said anything interesting or curious. Like nothing actually ever transpired in any of the conversations. No wonder you moved countries to chat up Japanese girls. No qualitative difference between dancers in your country, or rather women in your country, and Japanese girls in terms of verbal exchanges or intellectual challenges. This must also be why you resent the academic strand of Western-leaning females. You are intimidated by the fact that they’ve actually got a brain. You, as a man, the best and brightest of your own proud nation, hold no candle to these women! That’s gotta be insulting both to your gender and to your culture, isn’t it? No wonder your attack was particularly vicious.
I remember Andre. He was such a fine young man. Full of thoughts. Highly intellectual. Composed German poetry. I remember his Russian ex wife and what she did for a living. Some sort of brainless visual or performance artist (that’s not what we called a real artist the same way software engineers aren’t actually engineers). Probably a daughter of some high-standing diplomat. Variation of the same theme. LOL. Okay this starts to make more sense to me now.
I don’t know what to do with this new information.
I mean profession isn’t everything, you know. Maybe my Asian upbringings and high standards for desirable women are acting up a little. But when people write or speak, I immediately notice the quality of their minds and the calibre of their persons. The way they present themselves and their thoughts. That, to me, is their person. I often notice how “thin” the statements are that people make. Saved me from reading pointless books from impoverished minds.
So let it be known that I’m not wholly generalising top-down, that the profession makes the person, but mathematically inducting bottom-up, that 4 women who wouldn’t attract even the third-tier bachelors from my own or Western culture, date the 3 highest-calibre most elite men from your nation.
Again, don’t know what to do with this new realisation.
Look down on the West all you like, but the best of their men keep me very challenged and un-bored. Two Ivy league PhDs and another genius Thai ex who grew up in the US. You, on the other hand, bore the hell out of me. Guys, do better. Is this the best male specimen you’ve got?
The problem isn’t the women, you know this? Intelligent, challenging, highly educated women everywhere. The problem is what Russian men value in a woman, that regardless of their intellect or education or personal leanings they edge out the dumb drinking wifebeaters in mate choice by a hair’s breadth. What silly little people you are. I find the very best of your men rather lacking.. and disappointing.
If I have to venture a damn guess (not that I care, but you make this my problem in your treatment of me), I’d probably say that Russian culture isn’t really a mental culture. I mean your best men are completely mental, but not mental in a way that I care for.
Being an isolated country that you are, you don’t realise that what you gleefully find desirable and unattainable in your culture can invite mocking scorn and contempt from people from other cultures. We just don’t say it to your face though. It’s called Western civility and politeness. There can be a lot of internal processing, highly sophisticated and complex, with little external output due to basic courtesy and social rules. Whereas your mental architecture.. I’d very much like to find out how complex or lacking it actually is.
[…]
So, yeah, I’d totally fuck Andre. But despite who he is and what he is endowed with as a person and as a mind, the woman he loved and cherished automatically disqualifies him for any serious relationship with me. He thought she was such a gem. In the West, she’d be a pebble. Such is my standard. Such is your culture.
And he’d have fucked me too by the way had he not figured you out and what it was all about.
Well actually not quite true. The Brits overpopulate themselves with highly educated and challenging women, so I bet their dancers can cite Shakespeare and explicate on Monet on cues. But that would be too formidable and intimidating for a mere Russian man.
Now do you understand why you have such a shallow dating culture? There isn’t anything genuine to orientate itself around. Once you subtract the mental, the emotional, and the intellectual, what are you left with? Nothing. Just an empty hole. That does chores around the house and has a pretty skin around it. So what good are you to me then? When you’ve habituated yourself your entire life in a romantic dalliance with non-entities? Like, I thought you like that kind of woman. But turns out all your men do. How am I supposed to deal with this?
I don’t care for your women, to be honest. I only care about how it affects me. And apparently a great deal. If you people are incapable of striking a genuine, mutually rewarding relationship where intellect and humour and curiosity and emotion are reciprocated, then I have no choice but to be lowered to your unspoken cultural etiquette and accept all things in cash.. and jewellery apparently
That’s why all I am to you people is “a poor woman from a third world country”. That’s the entirety of your thought and the complexity of your being as a Russian man and how you see your women: in complete material and financial terms. If I have to venture the richness of mind and the virtue of character of a man who would say things like that in public and be considered worthy of their job: Western garbage man. Why? Are you threatened that the smartest and most honourable men of your country cannot think or act like I do? That they’re kinda weak scared wimps who are also kinda stupid? Did I sense some jealous resentment there? Misogyny and sexism perhaps? What an embarrassing fuck the whole outfit is.
It takes one Western man to make me kneel, but only the whole of the Russian state apparatus. What does that say about you?
March 22nd, to Anton
This is why a man has to know his humour is callous and his mind is callow… The best of your men are fighting over “a poor girl from a third world country” because apparently a poor girl from a third world country is more desirable than any of the women in your country or all of them so combined. So the concubines of elite men in your piss poor nation can’t measure up to me? Thanks hun.
A man of low standing must be put in place by a woman of higher standing, don’t we agree? I bet no women in your nation talk to you this way. Sexual polarity bores men more than anything. Are you just too dimwitted to realise that? Raise the stock of your stupid shit women and we won’t have any problems. Got it?
Let me clarify. I know some men are a bit slow. If you raise your stock of stupid shit women, then your men won’t come harassing and raping women from other nations, then people won’t die over stupid shit. Got it?
If I can will anything in the world right now, I’d like a man who typed that out violently gang-raped and his loved ones beaten up in front of him. Maybe break a rib or two. Slice off his girlfriend’s nipples. Dislocate a pelvis. Bust in his mother’s tooth or two. Too much? Do you all think I will turn into Daenerys one day and go scorched earth on everyone who pisses me off?
Actually if you bring his family members in front of me right now, I will do so myself. I will anally rape him until his rectum perforates while I dole out the rest of it on his family and his wife and children while he watches helplessly. I will rape the women too. With all kinds of sticks and batons or even broken bottles. Young, old. Grandmother. A preschooler. You name it. I will rape them over and over until they die of internal bleedings on the floor.
Do you know Girard’s theory of sacrificial lamb? The cultural mechanism and cause for it? And you know I can’t go running around outside the country without any “protection” details. I will be stuck with you guys! So maybe I can take it out on some of the sickly members of your men who said the most sickly shit about me. Do you think anyone would object?
Now you all wonder, why being particularly vicious with the women? Well, why can’t your stupid shit women be any less stupid and less shit, huh? If it weren’t for them being stupid and shit, I wouldn’t be raped and we all wouldn’t be here. Isn’t my logic rather impeccable?
[…]
So brain is not big with you guys, huh? Neither is virtue? Character? And so your men and women all share that lack of brain and virtue and character. Hence you should tell your top brass to stay in their lane and leave me the fuck alone.
But maybe I don’t want to be left alone. Maybe I want to sidle up to my Pootookie so I can perpetrate all the trauma and insanity on you who made that sickly comment. A purge is a cleanse. And I feel some bloodletting coming on up.
It’s good to have a goal in mind amidst the dark doom of life. If I have nothing to live for, maybe I’ll live on for revenge. But of course I am not as callous or callow as to denounce my entire principle and ideology simply because of my feelings. You cannot let feelings run your mouth, don’t you know that dear boy? Did mother ever tell you that? Teach you that? Raise you up with good values? I guess not. Hence, I want to so bust her teeth in.
And you know I am only poor because of some men in my life who siphon off my money for concerts and operas and plane tickets and the like. And I know quite well I am not getting anything in return for this. But do I mouth off like a hysterical woman leaving sickly comments on Twitter? But maybe that account was female. Then do better and stop being so shit and stupid. If so, I look forward to busting some Russian girl an anal fistula that your crap goes out the wrong hole since it’s already coming out of the wrong hole. Your fucking loose mouth. Maybe spend less time taking in cocks, hun. The hole wouldn’t then be so loosened.
I’ll tell you what. Why don’t any of you men volunteer your precious beautiful girlfriend or wife or mistress and serve them up to all your high commanders as a tribute? Or even your daughters and cousins, why not? Maybe if we work together, we can make all of this stop? There’s obviously nothing wrong with that kind of volunteering because you all seem okay with my situation and some of you even take great pleasure in belittling the gravity of it all. Do you think your girls will satisfy them? Probably not so you have to coach them better. Do whatever it takes to make them less shit and stupid. Or at least appear less shit and stupid. That will hold off their attention for a while and I can regroup. What do you think?
I hate dealing with little bitches. That’s all I’m going to say.
March 22th, to Anton
Why did you threaten me three times with death threats in the past few weeks? I have yet to call you out on this. Why did your friend not care? Why is this all on me?
Very nice. Did you brick my macbook just now? You’d know that I won’t be able to learn your stupid shit language but then again no great loss for humanity.
I’m not going to ask you to unlock it. Until you start breeding better women and leave me in peace that is. You know, it isn’t just the lack of brain in the women you all date. Even Andre’s ex wife had a highly questionable character but I’m not going to dramatise his private woes in front of everyone here. Virtue or strength of character definitely isn’t one of the criteria. Neither is drive or ambition. Neither is brain. Neither is career or education. So what is it you all stick your wet dicks in? Pretty cocksleeves who know how to vacuum? (“Saugen” joke in there somewhere for the German speakers). So no wonder you all get tired of your women and have to start harassing my ass.
I’m going to have to do my taxes and print the travel details for an entry into your shit country. Will you knock it off?
March 24th, to Anton
Is that another death threat in my inbox this morning? It’s not my fault you Russian men literally have no standards in women and so fumble me. Recalling just now that Tanguy’s girlfriend in Khon Kaen was some receptionist of a beauty clinic across the street. Here we call them low-value chicks. Over there high-value apparently locking down men left and right. Should have seen Por’s pursed lips when she relayed that to me. Utter disgust, contempt, profound ick. Now you know how I feel! So seriously, what do you know about courting me? Why is it my fault none of it sticks? I don’t want to propose the elixir for all your societal and political ills but you guys need a strong dose of Western women. Would have made your lives less strenuously boring and more satisfyingly colourful and upbeat and fun. I honestly don’t know what to do with fuck boys. All your best men are just that.. fuck boy energy monkey yachting. Like, do you seriously think that a woman’s career choice doesn’t signal her inner character and ideals and virtues? Or in this case lack of character and shabby ideals and vices. That there is no difference in moral taste or standing or judgement between a girl choosing to become a veterinarian or a lawyer vs a receptionist or a fifth rate dancer or an air stewardess? We are rewarded with the same opportunities in life when given education, which is a levelling force that can lead to better career and then life choices. And some women choose the easiest and laziest path in life and all that goes on in your head is “Oh there she is!” or “let’s wife her!”. It’s called having no moral taste or standing or judgement yourself. It’s called male monkeys coupling up with female monkeys. This is why you guys need that smack dab moral and spiritual uplifting from the West.
“Tell me what a man finds sexually attractive and I will tell you his entire philosophy of life. Show me the woman he sleeps with and I will tell you his valuation of himself” – One of my favourite quotes. In the West, she would be a gem and is actually considered a gem. In her own birth country a pebble.
So that’s why you boasted idly about dating models. That’s why Tanguy was known in the office as a fuck boy. That’s why the moral paragon of your culture is someone who dated and married an air hostess who didn’t even like him let alone understand him. But here’s the thing.. fuck boys like to fuck women at the bottom of the barrel but not necessarily marry them. In your nation you actually marry them! Like the sleazebags of the West you date glorified prostitutes. In the West though they are considered barrel bottom worthy of scorn and snicker but in your nation barrel top worthy of praise and admiration. Hate to belabour the point but I get that you guys are slow. A woman can prostitute herself in various ways as we all know. By accepting jewellery at a closed-door private soiree thrown for a group of powerful men. Or simply by advertising her beauty and youth as mere transactional value to be bartered over for an access to her person. This is probably why conservative values are so foundational to your culture and much politically promoted and enforced. Because the foundation upon which the said matrimony is established is not only flimsy but morally rotten.
So to lower myself to a marriage the foundation of which is morally and culturally rotten would be an affront to my own inner compass. Not all marriages are equal. Western marriage is sometimes better than other marriages… So having said this, happy to be treated as a captive and a guest or even a sugar baby but nothing more. Don’t taint my purity with the dirt of your culture.
I wonder whether when I arrive I’m going to be penetrated finally with a phallus or a bullet. Ask me if I care. It’s called having no fear. You men should try it sometimes.
Let it be known here to everyone in the West that I do not voluntarily consent to a relationship with low-standard men. Love is the highest inner expression of the soul and I do not wish it to be with fuck boys who marry glorified prostitutes and even worse are too dumb or morally dim to see it. I’d rather be a groupie showpiece rather proudly than a secret bride who degrades her own internal values and principles just because. At the end of the day, we all gotta die from something. Better it be for, rather than of.
March 24th, to Anton
Apologies for being culturally insensitive. A prostitute never speaks back like I just did or cares if she lowers her standards or even likes you as long as you “provide”, be it lodging, sperm or cash upfront. Sorry for breaking character!
I’m sorry, sweetie pie. You are so rich and handsome. When are you going to fuck me?
I must learn how to be your woman. Who cares who you are. I like you. Let’s smooch then smash, yes?
A prostitute can quibble over small matters as long as she is cute and leads to hot sex. She is never “difficult”. She is there to “receive” and “cares for” you. That’s wifey material. Okay. I am a slow learner so you must teach me how to be your woman.
Anyone else interested? Who cares who the man is or what I like or what I hold to be my personal or moral standards. Who cares if I know you or understand you or like you as a person. Who cares if you know me or understand me or like me as a person. Who cares if you have personal or moral standards. You are a man and a provider and I am a gatekeeper ferreting out my best investment. I must be speaking to at least a hundred Russians here. I’m sure you guys are all packed and pumped. Who wants a piece of me? Here I am prostituting my look and my youth as per your cultural etiquette. My maiden hand is up for sale.
Get westernised, fuckers. You all are embarrassing me.
Or better yet go on as you do. Keep diluting your elite gene pools with female runts of the race. In a few generations or even less your country is going to fall. LOL.
You do know that Turandot hates men as they are whereas you men love women as they are. Hence both are equally rotten. What do I mean by that? By loving or hating someone for their mere gender. Everything pertaining to their person is “fluff”. Every unique quality that makes a man or a woman is besides the point. Hence, every man “lustful” and must be put to death and every woman “beautiful” and must be put up for marriage. Regardless of how good or rotten they are at core. Vice or virtue of character who cares. It’s all vapid and laughable.
Whoops breaking character again. I’m playing a glorified prostitute at the moment. Forgot.
March 25th, to Anton
Aww, did I hurt my Pootookie’s feelings? It’s called hazing rituals I dole out to all the men I fancy. Haven’t you got that from last year? Besides you don’t think I’d let you get away with slaughtering nearly 150 of my countrymen without a counter response, do you? And even more Europeans? What’s some dispensable human lives to be sacrificed so now we’re on the same page? Might is right indeed but the pen is mightier than the sword as they say.
I wasn’t really playing before but now I am. Are you rattled? Unnerved? Crossed? Upset? Do you want me to kiss it all better in Moscow now that I’ll be there?
Are you going to hurt your pookie? Why don’t you have fun with her before you off her? Get her off and then off her? What good is a dead woman to you? Especially one that doesn’t intend to be your glorified prostitute for life like your previous.
All’s fair in love and war? Nah. All’s fun in love and war.
Now boys, do you understand why all your commanders get bored of fucking your own women?
By the way, I’m not backpeddling this time. I meant every word I said and I want them engraved on my tombstone.
But still, I want to be licking your wound so it’s all better. Where would you have me lick?
I shaved my pussy for you, you must know that.
Salisa lohavittayavikant 