The first anime I ever saw was “Revolutionary Girl Utena” the movie. I was attracted to it because it was bizarre and new. It hit me at a vulnerable time; my father and mother had just been murdered. I became obsessed with the “emptiness inside” theme of the movie, and felt that this related to my life somehow. I watched Evangelion next, and absolutely loved the depressing feeling both of these shows left me with. I am a person who loves depressions; I feel that I am at my most creative and “raw” when utterly depressed. The empty feeling these shows gave me filled me with emotions I wanted to recapture.

Like an addict seeking another hit, I kept downloading more and more programs, watching tons of shows. At one point, I had two shoeboxes full of CD-r’s packed with Anime programs. I had a library of just about every show ever made. I became obsessive, but I wasn’t finding that feeling that was originally there. Sure, I could recapture it with great stuff like Serial Experiments: Lain and Millenium actress, but that was only for a moment.

Eventually, I stopped watching the shows I was downloading, but just grabbed them for the sake of having them. I had to have more. I bought DVD’s and didn’t watch them. Gradually, over time, I felt my aesthetic become warped. What once was strange and bizarre looking character design became familiar; I sought it out. If I caught a glimpse of an anime style character in real life, I felt a rush; almost as if my hindbrain saw it before I was aware of it. I was visiting a Japanese tea Garden and saw real life schoolgirls in the familiar navy blue fuku uniforms. I was fascinated by them; I was drawn, attracted, but not in a sexual way; it blew my mind to see something in real life that I had before seen only in the abstract.

A familiar feeling came through me when I saw them. I felt the same at that moment as when I had first seen Utena, when I had first finished Evangelion. My obsession took a new direction.

Sooner or later I had to do it. I had to wear the uniforms I had treasured. I am proud to report that it took me a few months to break down, to really cross the threshold into utter depravity. After that line had been crossed, though, there was no going back. Tentatively, I started by simply wearing the uniforms around the house. I would wake up very early, before anyone could glimpse at me from outside on the street, and simply do my cleaning and cooking wearing the various uniforms I purchased. I got a matching apron. I would pretend I was getting ready for Japanese High school.

Soon, though, wearing the uniform in private was not enough. I purchased a duster trenchcoat and began walking through town wearing my outfit. Nobody knew, and this made me comfortable. But, again, this soon became insufficient to satisfy my obsession.

I began stalking this girl I knew, Sarah. I checked out her routines; when she left for work, when she got back, what time she went to bed. At first I furtively ventured into her place with my uniform under my trench coat while she was away. I knew where her spare key was because I had helped her move earlier. Speaking of this, I’m a pretty beefy guy. I weigh around 240-260 pounds, but I’m not that tall.

Anyway, gradually, I became more comfortable in her apartment. I started doing stuff like rolling around in her bed, stealing her underwear and putting it in little plastic bags, soforth. As you would expect, I became more and more comfortable doing this, and crossed a line. She came home unexpectedly one day, early from work. Panicked, I hid under the bed in my uniform. Immediately, as she came through the door, she spotted my trench coat. Lying under her bed, the sound of my heavy breathing seemed a thousand times louder than it actually was. I could hear her rooting through the trench coat, and could hear the wrinkling of celophane as she found my empty plastic bags. Thank god they didn’t yet have her used underwear in them.

I put my sweaty, meaty hands together and prayed.

I heard her walking around the apartment. Thankfully, she didn’t bring anyone with her. My mind was flashing; the excitement had triggered my epilepsy. Suddenly, I was barraged with memories from my first anime program, revolutionary girl utena. I heard her walking around some more, and then sit down on the bed. I saw her clothes come off and hit the floor in front of me. During this time I was controlling myself and having a minor epileptic fit. I could see transformation sequences from anime programs I had watched. It was all coming together; the near hallucinations, the girl in the bed above me, and most of all, my sweaty fuku uniform.

She approached the bathroom and got into the shower. She turned on the water. I was convinced that this was the one moment I had been searching for. This was my chance to cross over into the other world described in Utena; the fabric of reality was thin. I could taste it. In many of my anime programs I had seen the seemingly normal characters, like me, enter into a world of magic and joy.

I rolled out from under the bed and bounded into the bathroom. She saw my large form approaching through the glass of the shower and started screaming. I was having epileptic flashes; the screaming sounded just like “KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” I was having trouble walking, my steps staggered. I couldn’t feel the floor. My meaty hands slammed the shower door open, but she sprayed me with a jet of water. The water triggered another fit and I seized, falling into the bath. She tripped and fell on top of me. As she was screaming and my blood filled the bath, it swirled around reality, and intermingled in my mind. Her screams, the blood, my sweat, the uniform, Japan, schoolgirls, magic, tragedy, terror, and hope all become one to me. For one moment, I could taste it. The anime reality. It was here, like a precious jewel perched between my meaty, sweaty pectorals. And then, gone.

SO yeah I like anime.

I used to masturbate onto birds at a local park. Not a thing that I'm particularly proud of but I became quite good at it. I was taking zinc supplements so I was shooting massive loads and it became something of a sport to me. For anyone interested here is your best strategy. first, you need to find an isolated spot so you don't become a sex offender. I found a short kind of channel area where I saw the pigeons would congregate. Next, you arouse yourself. I was usually content with envisioning the occasional jogging lady coming over and taking a ♥♥♥♥ on my chest and that was enough to fuel the fire but if you're not as sexually charged as me just take some porn on the go. After you're good an horny, you get some bread. My pigeons preferred white bread but healthier birds might have a taste for honey wheat or maybe even multigrain. Fat, unhealthy birds are slower and easier to hit so remember that. Once you are seated on the bench and ready to do the deed, whip your roosevelt out and scatter bread out within a few feet of you. use your judgement based on how far you know you can ♥♥♥. I was a lonely and depraved soul who could hit targets the size of a thimble at distances up to 4 feet. You wait for the pigeons to begin eating and to get comfortable with your presence. At this point, you want to coo gently and talk sensually to them to gain their trust. Now you're finally ready to ♥♥♥ on your bird. This is a tough part because the rapid motion of masturbation is very frightening to the birds, so you have to be subtle. Once you master a technique, you simply wind it up and let it go, aiming depending on your past ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ experiences. I always came high so I would aim for the neck of the bird and catch it right in the face. It's an extremely satisfying and erotic feeling, seeing those birds reel around covered in ♥♥♥ and maybe even transporting it to other places in the city. Either way I haven't done it in years but every now and then I catch myself gazing wistfully at a flock of birds, ♥♥♥♥ throbbing and waiting for them to land close to me.