jk im so back
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@icevioletce
jk im so back
i know none of u care what i say or do unless im talking about or with my girlfriend on here currently and with her offline thats out of the question but a boy can dream for that to change
i crave streaming peri eroticism again but it seems like a lot of mental load to take that type of thing any kind of serious rather than as an outlet to toy with others when i am bored
i wish i could stop scratching to the point of blood and tearing off skin and weeks of scabs at any hint of cognitive instability
i am being soooo cool about everything happening i am i promise i dont need my hands tied down
i wish i could stop scratching to the point of blood and tearing off skin and weeks of scabs at any hint of cognitive instability
i should start live streaming my showers so when it feels like some horrible thing is latching on to me and taking upright form i can imagine its the beautiful thoughts of someone who wants me to fall down and break my legs leeching through the screen barrier and into my heart
i may be on the i will amputate your legs half of things on a usual day but its still sweet to be thought of 🩵
as a masochist it is your duty to make sadists feel comfortable expressing their desire to hurt people. if im allowed to say "i should be getting cut open and have my organs fondled bloodystyle" sadists should be able to say "i should be cutting someone open and fondling their organs bloodystyle". SADISTS GET BEHIND ME. i Will protect you
muting this post now BUT before i do that: to all the sadists in the notes, whether youre more interested in more psychologically based sadism like fearplay, or more physical based like bloodplay, or a combo of both, or something else entirely. whether youre a sadist, sadomasochist, or something else. thank you so much. your value to the community is indescribable. i love sadists deep down in my beautiful masochist heart forever alright
Let's hear it for visible thong straps 👏🙌🙏
U know what let's get this to 2k solely for my ego
Aren’t you glad?
being cute today
Fluffy bunny tummy by Sparrowl on Twitter
i love crying for help it feels almost like an orgasm when it does not come i love to cry for help in an empty room and be so so sweetly disappointed!
i think im unsalvageable because what do you mean im cycling between scratching myself to death in a frantic haze listening to and doing anything sweet and soothing and feeling serene transcendent and whole listening to insufferable voices describing a dead body in vivid detail. but i dont want to. i keep smelling battery acid the way a little childish machine steeps the room when it gets overworked i want to shower but theres always something In there behind the bug eyes curtains i can always see the wind shift in a closed room the only peace there is is fetish romance fantasy. unnecessary to elaborate on that one we all know it well. and the dead body yes also that. i dont think 60% of it is even about her and i am sorry because shouldnt it be? but i want to get out i want to get out of here for my own heart id leave it all to be free like she was not. selfishly it will have nothing to do with her or anyone its this animal it is the animal. if only i was not so slow and apathetic clawing up that dirt wall like i am just waiting for The Captor to come to thwart my progress shoving me back down to the dirt-bed so i can keep trying but never really get out. abduction wet dream because where do you really want to go? where would you really rather be than punished, sisyphus? all you really want to do is try and try and try and fail anyways, yeah?
💭 chest cavity
I'm crawling in there!!!!!
Saeed Jones, "Aretha Franklin Hears an Echo While Singing "Save Me", Alive at the End of the World
i am so embarrassingly depressing these days i think im wrong about everything and that would be so sooooo coool. one of you any of you can tell me im stupid and short sighted as a gift as reprieve, but only if you are sure of it. only if you are un-ailed in your heart and sure
truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.