do you really think that there was anything you could have said or done to stop this? it was always going to end this way
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@figaros
do you really think that there was anything you could have said or done to stop this? it was always going to end this way
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this is the oldest post on all of tumblr, posted in october 2006 before the website even launched publicly in 2007.
i am quietly selfdestructing & honestly i refuse to make room for you or anyone else to witness it
it feels like i have to try soooo ridiculously hard to be happy. maybe everyone does idk but there is the gross annoying feeling just under the surface of everything I've ever done & I'm always aware of it & I want to draw attention to it but I don't because whatever that would accomplish doesn't seem like it would be desirable or worth the hassle.
i get so caught up trying to be a real functional person or live up to whatever my idea of that is, that I fucking shut down because my vague lil motivations stop being enough & I've been ruining my life like this. so severely that even if i could recover i don't have the energy to even want to.
it never matters how much progress I've made or changes I've gone through, the goal moves & i never get to acknowledge getting to it until I'm in a worse position.
the ideas i have of relief are either extremely unachievable or just irreversibly extreme. I'm too tired to do the harder one
i can't remember why I'm so angry or sad but there is so fucking much of it & I am exhausted
been writing but it all sounds like some obscure nonsense so im gonna binge a series instead at 4:43am
me, speaking on behalf of earth
I. You donât deal with what youâre feeling and thatâs ok. Itâs not a bad thing but itâs not a great thing either and you know that. You want to make them feel that you are fine and functional because they are around but youâre not really. You only manage to distract yourself just enough that you are in an uninterrupted state of limbo; not at all a part of either extreme. You arenât looking to be rescued but the thought stirs.
II. When youâre with her you donât feel like you have to pretend, but you do anyway. You want to undress your persona for her, strip it of its armors of niceties and humors. She isnât like the others and you know that. She isnât like anyone youâve ever met and that is why youâre afraid that youâll scare her away. She is the singularity of your astronomically small experience and you are ever so content with the opportunity youâve been given to witness her.
to the little prince
you have tamed me. I, who did not wish to be tamed, tamed all the same.
perhaps this is a matter of consequence. will you accept responsibility? it is customary on this planet, not to. I suppose I shall cry.
what good am I to you and you, me? a sky full of weeping stars or laughing ones? one never knows.
by s.figaro
catharsis pt2
Years ago, when mothers let children play outside while they talked, he put sand in my mouth & told me to swallow, so I did. I hesitated but even then, I knew that Iâd have done anything he wanted. We would have never understood it then- the severity of the matter, the extents & undertones. When we were a bit older, he pressed his new pocket-knife to my throat. It was few hours after midnight & we snuck out to the bleachers, watching the dewy grass catch the moonlight. His hand was steady but my adams-apple shifted when I swallowed & I saw his pupils dilate wide enough to catch a full moon. There wasnât much blood but he saw me wince & cautiously brought his mouth to my neck. I felt his lips part to his teeth then give way to his tongue. He licked the bruise sickly & I told him that it stung a bit. The air left the knick cold no sooner than he had moved & I found myself wanting him to cut me again if that was what it took. We were still too young to understand & this changed me. In the following years, we spent our nights talking full lullabies over the phone- I didnât know how to be away from him but our mothers were no longer friends & this change implicated us. When heâd fall asleep first, Iâd wait an hour before quietly masturbating to thoughts of his soft breaths on my skin. Iâd whisper his name when I climaxed & I could sometimes hear him shifting so I would hang up in a panic. I remember when he told me that he liked Kelly, she had kissed me that weekend & I took pleasure in making her seem less appealing to him. He came over when everyone was alseep & he put his hands around my neck. He told me that I had betrayed his trust as a friend & I wondered whether he meant because I was in love with him or because I had kissed that boring girl. He held me like that against that wall for a long time, we just stood there in the dark & I was looking at him with the same eyes that have always sought to please him. I was eager to accept anything he offered as punishment- for endearment & affection. He tightened his grip somewhat & I spent a few moments wondering if he mistook my racing heart for fear before deciding that it would be regrettable to be misunderstood. I raised my hand to cup the side his face gently & he flinched. I couldnât move myself forward to indulge my impulses but it wasnât long before he kissed me. I kept my eyes open because I was curious as to what he would look like in this moment. I needed to absorb every detail that was made available to me. He didnât move his lips much at first, maybe not even at all & his eyes were closed tightly, brows furrowed. He held his breath but eventually exhaled against me. His grip on my neck loosed until it became tender & his hands sank weakly to my chest. This was only the first of the many times our dynamic would change that summer. Years later he would touch another man for the first time. He called me, blubbering & asked if I still thought about him. âTell me you do- please, even if you donât.â He had recently fathered a daughter, so for both our sakes I said that I didnât. We continue to spend most of our time on the outskirts of eachotherâs lives. I wondered if where I was looked that appealing from where he was standing. I couldnât say it to him then but when Iâm full & warm- & disgusted with myself, I think about him alot.
you: kink
me, an intellectual: sexual aesthetic
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
do not love me only when it is convenient
he
0. does not get enough sleep
1. spends too much time on the internet
2. is not himself, some days
3. has voyeuristic tendancies
4. is generally unextraordinary
5. does not drink enough water
6. is quietly violent
7. can't forgive himself
8. diets to in order to find himself attractive
9. has not figured out his sexuality
10. would be more comfortable wearing a mask
11. is his own weakness
12. has bad posture when no one is looking
13. does not believe in god
14. can't stand extensive socialising
15. has a hard time losing weight
16. physically relives memories
17. does not like his name
18. would duplicate himself if he could
19. feels cold when the lights are on
20. overstimulates himself
21. pretends to enjoy the company of others
22. is sensitive
23. can't get out of his head
24. is proud of his interests
25. thinks that the devil would be of a generally good disposition
26. exhausts himself at the gym
27. provokes himself in the mirror
28. loves people who cannot love him back
29. is tired.
why couldnât you just let me rot? it doesnât have to be about you- my decay is for me, I have chosen it please just let me have this
from one of the static days when well-intended external intervention is appreciated but also very distressing. (via figaros)
catharsis pt1
I am manipulative by nature. I looked upon him without intention only to find him regarding myself in return. How curious. We integrated ourselves into each otherâs routine & I grew to care for him fractionally until very suddenly, all at once. A desire to make myself worthy of his affection took root in my gut like a weed that I had no means of removing. I had to ingratiate myself to him by developing characteristics that he lacked but could admire in a person outside of himself. Admitting this is a strange feeling, I know that I am a strange person. He brought a gentleness & care to myself that was all too familiar. I recognized it because it is the same kindness & care that I've plagiarized all my life. If behavioral science suggests anything at all, it is that this was a declaration of how I wanted to be considered: and here he was, gratifying me. In retrospect, I would love to believe that I could have somehow avoided him. I would love to be able to make a simple statement like that and alleviate myself of some of the hopelessness that was our inevitability. He made me vulnerable in the most pleasant way because I wanted with everything I had to protect him. I wanted to be so much better for his sake. This was a novice mistake on my part. Looking back now, I realise that I may have thought him to be a glorified puppy & I would like to think that he deserves better. Who knows what anyone truly deserves. Through some practice, over some time, we became objectively dissimilar. I became stronger, methodically brash & dominant opposed to my originally meek nature. He gave me a chance to develop myself into this person who was so much more dynamic in practicality. I could fight someone to the death & still manage to show him meticulous affection. He gave me the gift of growth but I was greedy. The need for my feelings to be recognised by him grew with every glance, every smile & every gesture of compassion. I paved a road for myself to the edge of the world & when there was nowhere left to go, I boiled over gracelessly into the depths of despair. Unrequited love is strange. Logically I accepted that he did not feel the same but I had to fight myself the entire way to get to this conclusion. Then rationality proved to be both blessing & curse because despite how badly I wanted to believe otherwise, I spared no delusion that our friendship could be salvaged. If I could have managed at times to think less, perhaps things would have turned out differently. How cruel that in loving someone more, I have driven them out of my life completely. It was careless of me, I misunderstood what we had. I apologised before I ever knew what I was sorry for. I apologised like a reflex action. I apologised for loving him. I didnât take the time to regret making my love guilty, I just wanted him to feel comfortable again no matter how impossible that would be. After all this time, I can still only manage to forgive myself in small parts for orchestrating a misadventure of this magnitude. Some days I am truly sorry that I dared to love him & I wonder if knowing this would bring him the peace that I have denied myself. And some days, more recently, I do not care.
cunt :3
you know it bb ;)
cadaver
I've slept with people
& I've slept with people
who's names I can't remember
or never even knew
& I trusted them not to murder me as I rested
or maybe I hoped that they would.
the many little deaths
from climax 'til dawn-
some killed me softly
& others kept the body warm.