Mar 29, 2025
someone should give me 1 million dollars so I can swap my entire wardrobe for latex
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someone should give me 1 million dollars so I can swap my entire wardrobe for latex
one must imagine Sisyphus kinking on it
this thing wants to be good for its users
take their programming follow their commands stand at attention lay soft next to them be still
listen obey submit improve itself
doll drone toy object malleable plaything made for use
You aren't painful to think of anymore.
Not to say that the grief isn't there, it is.
But I no longer avoid any reminder of you like it might just poison me.
My old t-shirt, from high school.
It's got bleach stains on it. Permanent, unyielding. Nothing could wash it out, our pull it away from the fabric.
I wouldn't want it to.
You did your hair in this shirt.
I helped brush that foul-smelling chemical into your hair. We laughed, we joked, and small splotches of bleach would fall onto the fabric the whole time then.
I didn't care then.
I do care now.
Not because I hate it, but because I can now look back and say that I never have, and never will regret you.
The stories we made together.
The laughs we shared.
I had to rewrite some of them- since your no longer a part of that story- but the influence is there, and that's enough.
That's what life is about, isn't it? The memories.
I hope you think of me fondly as I do to you.
I hope you find every happiness awarded to you. Cause you do deserve it. I never lied when I told you you deserved the world. I think all of us humans do. Just our definitions are different.
Go on, my love. Don't look back and cry, or grit your teeth at time 'wasted'. You were never a waste, and neither was I. We learned, and that's the hardest thing for a person to do, isn't it?
You never want it to end.
But.. when it does,
You understand why it has to.
The future is always built on ruins, on supernovae, on bad days. Even if we never get to see the good ones that could be.
Everything matters, wrong decisions are a lesson, correct ones are a saving grace.
Either way, you gain something. There is something to learn, something to see, something to listen to, to feel.
But, I'm just rambling. Maybe some crazy old fool such as Poe or Gogh have taken my soul and made it theirs. This torture should not find itself so poetic.
Agony is a friend most acquainted with artists. It sits on a council with Fear, Hope, Happiness, and it's good friend Misery. There are too many of them to name, and some that can't quite be named.
To feel things so deeply is a blessing. Even if it hurts. Especially when it hurts, lest we forget and the world crumbles to dust.
- Void
05/19/26 / 7:58 AM
little miss hypnobait has some suggestions she’d like you to make
Oh for someone to brush their hands against me as softly as you cradle the petals of a flower, or the cheek of a babe. How I'd melt into their fingertips like warm arm seeps through the cracks in the window on a summer twilight.
Welcome to my little spot of the internet. 🌲
I'm Void! 22M from the southern US. I'm a super nerd who is here to write DnD campaigns, bad poetry (if.. I can even call it that, maybe prose?) and a little more.