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That was my thought process at the time. I remember it clearly. No one ever told me to breathe through a straw and explained that that’s what it feels like to have lung problems it was always this vague thing about them not being healthy or turning black and it was probably my rebellious nature that turned all the warnings about lungs and smoke around to me wanting smoke in my lungs and wanting my lungs to be unhealthy and to turn black.

I don’t know exactly how it got mixed up with sexuality for me but from some of my earliest memories I wanted smoke in my lungs. I even had a ‘smoke in my lungs’ chant I would say while touching myself and I couldn’t have been older than 7 when I made that up and got off on it.

Before I had any clue about what I was doing I was playing with myself and breathing in smoke was the most common focus of my fantasies.

I don’t remember ever taking it very far back then just a couple lungfuls of candle smoke or campfire smoke here and there.

I don’t remember how old I was when I started breathing in car exhaust but that might be where it started to get out of control meaning I would get so into it that I couldn’t always stop and ended up going further than I wanted to.

I know it is an addictive obsession and compulsion.

I don’t want to admit it but I think I may have to either give up lungfucking altogether (one day at a time of course) or die an untimely and/or painful death.

Although I get turned on by even thinking of the 2nd option giving it up is more in line with my values and my higher power’s will.

Of course I’m not going to talk about it at least not anytime soon but I can be vague and talk about lust.

After all isn’t it lust? Do I not lust after lung damage, the idea of lung damage and the experiences that cause it?

Do I not crave it and obsess over it (you think lol) and seek it out to the exclusion of other things and at the cost of my wellbeing and maybe even others the times my dustmaking has gotten out of control.

I can’t get away from it. It is everywhere. But I can make certain precautions and one day at a time.,.

The thing about one day at a time however is it works for so long then the urge gets so strong I don’t seem to be able to resist.

Then I rationalize, oh just a little bit, I’ll only keep this much in the sock but then I’m always thinking about more.

If I could only keep it to moderation but how many times have I said that and about how many things and how many times has it not worked?

So many times with addictive substances and behaviors I succeed at moderation for a good bit of time but it’s that one time I go beyond that fucks it all up.

And it’s a burden to manage to try and keep this thing to one corner and make sure it’s staying in its place.

But when I throw it all away whether it’s clay or whatever I tend to want it back and obsess over it.

That is where I know I’ll need to pray.

Unless I just embrace the dark side. Sometimes it’s healthier. It very well may kill me but isn’t it an integral part of who I am as a person on this Earth?

Isn’t it a part of the whole?

Would I bet my lungs on it?

Will I sacrifice my lungs to the burning passion of my loins and until they run out of life and die?

Do I even have a choice or are my lungs truly hopelessly doomed to be fucked until their used up?

Either way I’m done bathing in clouds under a blanket. It’s too easy to spend hour after hour in that that dust chamber and it’s very messy and hard to contain.

But in a sock I can keep most of the dust contained so it only goes into my own lungs which I choose to abuse and it’s easier to put down and clean up after.

That’s what I’ve been doing since those three nights I spent filling my makeshift tent with clay dust as I described earlier and documented for you to watch in my other note.

I’ve been keeping a couple socks with clay in them so I can conveniently get a couple or a few or a few couple dozen lungfuls of dust every so often and keep the lungs I raped so hard from ever getting a complete break from the silica. I even let just a tiny bit go onto my pillows and bed so that even when I’m sleeping my lungs don’t fully get a rest.

Yesterday (after already writing most of this note which has been edited and added to over the course of time) I added some granite grit (used for chickens) to the mix knowing that granite is even significantly richer in silica (about 30 percent) than clay with more of it being the crystalline quartz kind that does the most lung damage. I put it in my impermeable winter coat pocket so it would stay where I wanted it and go directly into my ill-fated lungs only breathing it straight at first then mixing it with clay.

I fucked my lungs pretty hard with the granite and granite clay mixture spending probably the better part of an hour maybe even more sucking the dust deep into my helpless lungs which keep being ever more shocked into submission.

I went pretty hard last night and woke up as I have sometimes with just clay alone feeling the irritation and inflammation deep in my lungs.

I also noticed the previously dull aches grow a little bit sharper and started getting some mild pins and needles like sharper twinges of the mild discomfort that I actually enjoy. Even yesterday the dull aches I’ve been starting to feel in my lungs became a little sharper and more noticable.

I treated this these irritated and inflamed lungs this morning with another good fucking of the clay/granite mix for at least five minutes straight.

I got so hard as I felt that pinprick sensation as it was sucked down my windpipe and could even feel my lungs filling with the thick clouds of dust over and over and over again as I basked in the mineral taste and aroma and pictured my lungs somewhat brown with specks of black and embedded with countless tiny silica particles helplessly taking it in, shocked and coated with dust like a shell shocked 9/11 survivor crawling out of the rubble and as I felt them repeatedly filling with dust saw these battered and shocked lungs in my minds eye being filled with the visibly thick dust like as they expanded and contracted like lungs in an anti smoking commercial. I pictured the dust coated insides of these lungs like the inside of the sock or pocket or vacuume dust bag. I pictured all the inflamed air sacks deep inside these damaged inflamed lungs filling up with the thick clouds of dust over and over again with more and more tiny particles of crystalline silica getting stuck and embedded with each catastrophic inhale.

I have a little bit of wheezing now and a couple rattling coughs accompanied with lung aches. I can definitely feel and hear some damage like I did after I violently raped my lungs with clay for 13 hours over 3 consecutive nights.

Today is room cleaning day and in the name of moderation I’m going to finally start to scale back as I clean up.

I’m going to throw out most of the clay and granite. I have way more than I’m ever going to inhale. I’ll keep just enough in one sock to deliver moderate fuck sessions to my lungs and just enough pure clay in the other sock to deliver mild-moderate lung fuckings.

I feel like a have just essentially raped my lungs again and got so much satisfaction out of it so now it’s time to be done with the violent rape and simply fuck my raped and beaten lungs with just enough damaging silica to keep them from ever getting a real break and on a good downward trajectory as the permanently embedded particles lodged deep inside my lungs continue the wreak havoc and drain the remaining vital essence out of my dusty and brown used up and tired dust collection bags.

And that’s what I did. I got rid of a lot of the clay keeping just enough to give my lungs a good fucking every so often.

I got more granite grit, this time just the fresh stuff from the bag. It makes less dust and has very little smell compared to clay though still a visible amount when I’m crushing and shaking it so I can fuck my lungs with solid doses of respirable Crystalline silica without getting the dust and amazing clay aromas everywhere.

I went under my sheets on my bed and breathed a little dust right there letting a fine but sufficient layer of clay and granite dust coat the sheets, bed and especially the pillow. Last night I slept with a moderately clay dust saturated sock on my pillow right up against my face so I was breathing some dust all night.

I am in my bed typing this now and the smell is not overwhelming but I get a whiff of it every so often and it is amazing.

The smell (and taste) not to mention feeling of clay dust is my new favorite thing and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.

And so I keep breathing moderate amounts of it for the amazing feeling it gives all 5 senses and the way it keeps my lungs on edge.

That night...

Of course I ended up raping my lungs again. Honestly I don’t know if it’s full on rape but I fucked them pretty hard.

Well technically it is rape because I fuck them against their will.

The clay isn’t anything new but with the granite which contains about 30 percent silica and in the crystalline form I can’t smell it or see it as well except with a flashlight and it’s amazing to watch the millions of tiny particles in the light

But I’ve been noticing with the granite I can really feel the damage I’m doing to my lungs!

I have felt it with clay too but with granite it’s sharper, more intense and happens after less inhalations.

I went under the sheets and crushed up the granite pebbles inside a pair of boxers I used just like the sock with the clay.

I crushed in up, massaged it and shook it. As soon as I started doing this the chest pain that had been gone for a few hours came right back in full force and I could feel something shift inside my chest. I could literally feel the damage I was doing.

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