deterritorialized flesh @deterritorializedflesh - Tumblr Blog

im going to take a break from writing, more for others sake than my own, but i also find it embarassingly pathetic how i bleed everywhere. im trying to fix myself, can you see? But it feels more like sweeping it under the rug than anything.

i may not feel love now, maybe i'm incapable of understanding it, but i'll at least have the security of knowing that the second most loved day in my life will be my funeral. The most loved day would be my birth. Am i crazy to dream of it? To wonder what their regrets all are? What they would miss most about me? Why cant we all love eachother more? Help me understand what it means to love others. I dont ynderstand anything of what it means to love. I think i feel it for everyone, but when i try to sit down with it and try to understand, its gone, like trying to catch a fleck of dust dancing in the air.

But i imagine my funeral often. Despite whatever resentment my friends have built up for me, it would all be undone by one simple act. And i would be loved, i would be seen. I write my heart out all on paper, all on these pathetic posts, im sure someone will find it when i die, and then they will understand how painful it was to be in this body and rot and disease. They'll find out things they wont like too. A lot of things. But it wouldnt matter. I would be liberated by my death, and that would be when they all will understand

Or maybe im too rotten. maybe they'd feel even more disdain and pity. maybe my death wouldnt make a difference to anyone but me. Then it would be a matter of suffering or not suffering. Is that what my life has amounted to? To suffer or not suffer? Im capable of more than just that, i know it, but its as though it all circles back to that one point, that familiar sigh. And once i reach that point, nothing else in the world would matter but the fact that i cant take the suffering any longer.

i don't want to feel these things anymore. these feelings are ruinous to the few good things in my life. the few good things that make it all worth living. i'm scum and i deserve to die. i know what theyd all say, i know what they all think. id rather you take my eyes and ears away so i can still live in ignorance. Take away my capacity to feel so that i no longer ruin my life and others with it all. I'm so confused, i don't know what to think, i want this feeling in my chest to go away, all these things that drive others away and make them resent me. i'm so confused, help me understand, i wish there were clear rules to being a human, maybe there are but i don't feel like im even human at all, i don't know what im doing, i just don't understand, i don't understand anything at all

#self mutilation #perversity #georges bataille #masochistic

i forget that im solely to blame for everything ive done wrong and everything wrong with me. im sorry for bleeding all over everyone, i have this need to be acknowledged for my pain, but its really useless and childish of me to expect that it would change anything of my Truth, that it would ever change the way i feel about myself

childish

Being me feels like a hell i cant escape from

oh whats the use of this whining. im in denial about god's absence. if he still does exist, he doesnt exist for my sake

THIS IS WHAT HAPPINESS LOOKS LIKE

There is a profound ache in my chest that pulls at the emotions of others and I can't seem to forgo it. Being in this body, feeling too much of it all—oh God, surely its worse than death itself. I can't stop feeling, I can't stop thinking. I want to kill my mind, I want to kill this sick life, I want to be reinvented, I want to get away from it all

with the blanket over my head, the world ceases to exist. there is no more you, there is no more i

Just kill this tjing inside me and never let me speak again . Just kill every part of me that feels and loves because i cannot be trusted to know anything of the love and kindness of others if i cannot see past my own cowered hands. Love is so fickle and so cruel and the word alone cannot explain what it is I feel for the people in my life and the fears i have over losing what is such a special connection between everyone. I feel like every one of my relationships are tied by a single thread that can unravel over the slightest mistake. I feel weak willed and most of all underserving of my personhood. How do you exercise the soul?

marypickfords

Lake Mungo (Joel Anderson, 2008)

My self-inflicted wounds could never match up against ones given by others. There's something so freeing about getting cut open by someone. I feel alive and powerful yet undone in every way. I'm prideful of the scars I earn. The sin bleeds out like syrup candy. It paints my tongue and I am born again

Theres a deep hunger within my soul that is misdirected towards the darkest of things. I'm a lover of death and the rancid. My heart is lashed in all the right places. I dream the darkest of things at night and it haunts me. I deserve far worse, but I'm optimistic that despite my sickness and depravity, I can at least tame it and be capable of some sense of normalcy—not that i've ever had it or want it. It's the kind of thing you're supposed to have, no matter how much you loathe it. A child drinking it's bitter medicine

#necrophillac #necrophilism

deterritorializedflesh

I wonder if I will ever feel alive. Will I always watch my life behind the glass? Will I ever feel present? Will I breathe your same air? Will you touch my heart and know that I am just as human as you are? And can I feel another's skin, hold their chest, and know that they are breathing and well?

I want to love and live. I don't want to be impassive about everything. I feel so much inside but none of it comes out, only read in the threads of words I manage to string together. My memory has been worsening by the day. If schizophrenia doesn't take me away, dementia will. I hope I'm not witness to that

At times like these the most obvious sign is my loss of vocabulary and degredation of grammar / sentence structures. As if Imm regressing, orcmaybe i just never grew up. I dont know what i want to say or think anymore. I feel too much again. i miss when i felt nothing but quiet desperation for death. Now its loud, throbbing, sickly and aching. No matter where i Am I am eternally alone in my struggle to exist and to assume the right to exist. It feels as though the birds are nipping at my open skull, taking whatever's flesh still left, slowly eroding with time, while my heart swells and bulges until my stomach finally pops and sinks. Owwww!

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