the downward spiral
bar bathrooms, rust, sweat, meaningless and mechanical sex, corrugated tubes, busted air conditioning units, mold, dirt, leather, scuffed boots, cigarette burns, ripped fishnets (fashion and literal), messy rooms, suspiciously sticky hand rails in a stairwell, barbed wire, cords and cables, DIY, fenced off junkyards, riveted metal, ash, playboy magazines, circuitry, calloused fingers, rope burn, gunpowder, bloodied knuckles, bruised knees, air hunger
…and some stream of consciousness lol, I’ve searched high and low for a simple phrase to condense this into but i can’t find one, so i’ll just describe it #nobeta
this very specific state of mind, where you want so badly to see it all, to fit in, that you would do anything and everything, you’d go down the darkest of alleyways. things could always be worse, and you welcome it. you do anything to find a place or a purpose in life. coping with the lack of something more, something beyond what you’ve been chained to your whole life, that “something” constantly teasing you, dangled in front of you just out of reach. you want to see just how bad it can get, not born out of melancholy, born more out of hunger and lust, a bottomless pit inside you that you stuff anything into. filling every silence. silence is unbearable. it forces you to see how deep that pit is. it forces you to remember who dug it. a shovel is not a passive tool. (it runs even deeper…)
