There are only two things that make life worth living: Love, and creation.
Are you losing yourself?
Send that text message. Pick up the pencil. Stop being a pussy and just do it.

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There are only two things that make life worth living: Love, and creation.
Are you losing yourself?
Send that text message. Pick up the pencil. Stop being a pussy and just do it.
library today 💪
it's rainy and gloomy and ive been depressed in the past few days, but im actually gonna get some work done.
i really need to distance myself from some people in my life, they make me suffer too much, but at the same time i cant help but feel lonely.
Hi Hi Hi what about a scenario where the guy you're dating is a serial killer and you're his next victime, but you have this super power of reading the minds of people and you hear his full plan like this :
Look at you. So perfectly at peace, completely unaware of the pattern unfolding tonight. You think this is just another ordinary evening, a beautiful dinner, soft music, a shared glance. the others before you understood the romance of the end, but with you, I want to take my time. every movement must be choreographed.
First, the illusion of safety. I will draw you in, step by step, until the room disappears around us and you are at my place resting against the wall, closing your eyes, i'd tell you let's play a game. It is about heightened senses, about feeling the space around you without seeing it, i'll blindfold you...
You can hear my breathing, feel my lips on yours, my hand on your body you can feel the shift in the air, your pulse is quickening, right under my hand. It is so vibrant, so loud in this quiet room, racing in your chest, you feel the cold steel caressing your skin from your neck to your lower body then up to your chest, pause right between the ribs where you can feel it and see it beating when you're laying on your back at night, If I press just a fraction more, the game changes completely.
knowing what he'll do, would you leave ? if not what would happen when you'll be at the exact moment where "the game change completely" ?
When I hear about his nefarious plan to end my life I’m shocked. How have I never heard his thoughts of his victims or this plan before now? This man must have a very disciplined mind to truly focus only on fostering a genuine relationship and connection. Perhaps he did not intend to kill me until now. Regardless of motive I need to figure out what to do next!!
I excuse myself to the restroom. I consider calling the police. The tired part of me is considerably content with just letting things play out. I spend some time on my phone and then I return to my “date.”
I play along beautifully with every phase. Skip to the moment, the blade poised to pierce my heart. In the next instance my spring blade, in the closed position, is against his carotid artery. I can hear his thoughts, going from pure delight to confusion to horror. I grin and let him know that if I click the button, my knife will promptly slide into his neck. We are at a stalemate.
He starts shaking a little bit, even nicking my soft skin over my chest and beating heart where his blade lingers. His thoughts tell me that he is embarrassed that he is shaking.. it is uncommon for anything to ruffle his feathers when he is participating in his darker desires.
What’s transpires next is very frank conversation about ourselves, our desires and our hardships. Almost like a scene from a chick flick awkwardly inserted into a mission impossible film. The conversation is greatly helped along by the fact that I can read his mind.. I know that he wants this to happen just as badly as I do. But his will to survive is too strong. And he cannot allow me to best him.
Finally I catch him in a lie. He tells me that in the count of three we should both remove our weapons. However in his thoughts he plans to duck down his head and push the blade straight into my pumping heart. “1.. 2…” on 2 I click the button for the blade to go into his neck while thrusting my chest toward his blade. We both manage to be penetrated at once. The shock on his face is beautiful.. and it slowly turns to relief anyway. We bleed out together, his body slumped over mine, the weight of it pushing the blade deeper into my heart.
On my phone the police find a note that he is the serial killer along with some vague details about some of the victims I was able to glean from his thoughts today. My only regret is that I was not able to write down a full list of victims and the locations of their bodies.
I thought this was a fun prompt, thank you! Just a bit of a plot hole perhaps that he hadn’t thought about his victims before now.
Hello hello hello i love your blog so much
If you would have to be killed in a romantic way, what are your favourite scenarios i'm sure you have plenty and you already know every detail of how it would happen
Awww I’m so glad / sorry that you like it!! 🥹 I chose just one scenario because of length. In this scenario I reference the aggressor as my partner for the purposes of romance prompt. I do not actually have a partner irl but I do have a situationship and I am imagining him in this. I tried to keep the sex stuff light because it’s not the typical content of this blog. But irl there would be a lot more sexual detail.
Prelude:
My partner knows how much pain I have endured in my life. He has held me while I have sobbed and pounded at his chest, begging god to kill me. Then begging him even tho I knew it was unfair to do so. He loves me so much and wants me to be alive, healthy and well even though he knows that is an unrealistic fantasy. Sometimes he does fantasize about putting me down just so he doesn’t have to witness me suffer again. He justifies to himself, “she would look so peaceful, once she went still and her body began to cool.” Then he would try to shake off the image and feel ashamed when he realized how aroused he was at the idea.
One of the nights that he is holding me while I cry, I tell him for the umpteenth time that I think I would be better off dead and wish that I could die. I expect his usual response of cooing in my ear, stroking my hair and then holding me closer. Instead he says, “would you like me to end your life, dear?” I sigh and say “yes” in an exasperated tone as I am thinking, “obviously.” Because I don’t realize that he is serious. My heart begins to run as he tells me he is very serious. Lots of personal dialogue ensues. Magical way is worked out that he will not be implicated in any way or have any consequences. Skip to a night several weeks later.
The day of:
We have just had the most beautiful day. Doing things we like doing. LOTS of sex. After a particularly mind blowing orgasm he stays inside of me and tells me that it is time. I stroke his face and try to memorize every detail. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it is going to explode out of my chest. We can both hear it and it makes him grin. We hold each other tight for several minutes. Smelling one another. Then he has to handcuff my hands to the pillars of the bed frame. You see, although I am a willing participant, survival instinct is still very strong. This way I will not be able to fight back. While he is doing this I tell him again how much I love him and how grateful I am. We are both crying. He kisses me on the lips and then the forehead. Then he wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes. At first I am still compliant and I even thrust my throat into his hands. After my brain has been deprived from oxygen for several seconds I start to thrash against my handcuffs. Twisting my pelvis and kicking my legs. He tells me with some effort that he loves me and I look beautiful like this. I am red all over and then my face is looking purple then blue. I can’t think as the edges of my vision go soft. My body is still panicking as it was designed to do. But before everything goes black I get to see the most beautiful face.. from exertion his face is also red. He has tears coming down his cheeks. He is full of adrenaline and lust. Finally, long after I have stopped breathing, he takes his hands away from my throat. His hands hurt but he doesn’t really notice. He looks at me. My mouth is open from trying to access air. He notes with almost academic attention that one of my pupils have blown. The whites of my eyes are no longer white as several blood vessels have popped, petechiae. My lips look like I’ve put on a purple lipstick. Again he strokes my hair and kisses me on the lips, murmuring sweet nothings to ears that can no longer hear.
Please tell me you see my logic
The world is controlled by money
Money is needed to meet basic needs let alone to live in comfort
Disabled = unable to make money
Have to sacrifice health and wellness to force yourself to be a wage slave
AND/ or
Submit to living in poverty, just trying to scrape by but never quite making it
Loss of dignity, security, wellbeing
Don’t want to lose access to loved ones, joy, hobbies and good times
But
It’s too expensive to stay alive
I did a thing. I thought I could price it for free but the cheapest I could price it was 99 cents (30 something of which I would see) please don’t spend money. It’s like 2 pages of haikus. Message or comment if you want to read them and I’ll send them to you directly. Photo on cover is mine and so are the haikus.
Seasons of my Mind: Haikus on Grief, Pain, Depression and Suicide Ideation - Kindle edition by Lindsay, Anna. Download it once and read it o