PORNOGRAPHY: MEN POSSESSING WOMEN by ANDREA DWORKIN

 

Self is incrementally expanded as the parasite drains self from those not entitled to it. To him it is given, by faith and action, from birth. To her it is denied, by faith and action, from birth. His is never big enough; hers is always too big, however small. As a child, the first self he drains is that of his mother—whatever she has of it is reserved for him. He feeds off her labor and her qualities. He uses them up. She is devoted, more or less; but the more is as much insult as the less; and nothing is ever enough unless it has been too much; all of this regardless of what or how much it has actually been. As the boy matures, he is encouraged to make the treacherous and apparently devastating ‘‘normal adjustment,” that is, to transfer his parasitism of the mother to other females, who have more succulent selves to which they are not entitled. In the course of his life, he reenacts this grand transition as often as he wishes. He finds the qualities and services he needs and he takes them. Especially he uses women, as Virginia Woolf described in A Room of One's Own, to enlarge himself. He is always in a panic, never large enough. But still, his self is immutable however much he may fear its ebbing away, because he keeps taking, and it is taking that is his immutable right and his immutable self. Even when he is obsessed with his need to be more and to have more, he is convinced of his right to be and to have.

brims of sanity, been doing this too long

Longing for France or Norway, longing for something to do, someplace to survive. I feel a longing like a hook through the skin of my back, the skin of my waist, dragging me up through the roof and dragging my feet like a paintbrush. I was once ignorant towards life in general I had no interest in Spain or in the greater world and when I saw it i became mesmerized by the clear flow of the air, the cold gushing wind, the lush of each small fraction. It is so far from me, and yet here it is. I feel so alone but I wish to be alone. I wish my family decided to stay in Japan and I could live freely in the house instead of just my bed, my room. I dont have enough money for coffee shops, and there is nowhere to be and nothing to do in the afternoons. Head hurts, stomach churns, all is lost if i let my eyes look. If i climb to the window through my bondaged arms and legs and I peek through the pane i see nothing but a black, deep void that holds no light, no sound. I am better off in this little cabin, locked inside and tied into a knot.  

im in so much pain, the earth is heavy and my mind is full of sore joints and muscles so withered, withered to the point of risking the flesh falling clean off the bones if i moved an inch. 

i cannot think anymore, i cannot breathe. i am alone in the world and i cant sit and analyze even if i wanted. i wish i was less cruel but i cant be and i am in such a lack of love and care i feel so abandoned. i wish i could run and hide but i cant. im so hungry for something. i feel so sad and alone. 

spread HATE and MISERY

 haii ..

God, its been ok. got my tongue pierced and my other foot done. trad cobweb and born to die right under it. a 536 at the center of the other one. looks fine. healing as one would expect. hurts like hell. but i can talk fine now and eat semi solid foods. canned chicken soup and whatnot. with bits of vegetables and like five bits of some limp pasta. had not had pasta in ages. digested it just fine. whatever. things may be looking up. got some vintage jewelry for a total of what 45 usd the other day. two rings, two big necklaces. i think. feel weird, prayed over them and sprayed some holy water.

in a deep cloud of unflinching misery, listening to post punk and dsbm this summer. wont even try to fool myself into feeling fine by listening to solar power or whatever. wa t a place to find rest but i wont. summer school is not extremely grueling but i AM home alone and im an extremely paranoid person. im afraid i might be developing some type of schizophrenic disorder but i dont think so. my visions are prophetic and i do think i have a stronger spiritual drive than most people. the shapes i do see make sense in context and i dont hear voices. i only ever talk to myself. but if my visions are not in fact an angel sending me messages then i might be cooked.

its not been too bad. im trying to listen to more music akin to waht im doing and solidifying my own personal sound. someone i dont know found my ep and liked it enough to buy it and donate one additional dollar. yay!

ill be twenty years old soon. GGOOOODODD!!!!!!!!!!!JRWAFDOKSMJC LGK

and its been ok honestly. dont love my classes and clasmates, dont like coming to this specific university mostly out of a deep feeling of disconnect, a bit more literal than before. in my other university this feeling of disconnect and hollowness was a bit broader and hit deeper. people here are just right winged. which is to say RETARDED .

ill be ok.

mosquito

 i am attending summer school. free of charge. yay! kinda sucks. have to get up 6 am ish to get here at 8.30.

im thinking of my album and feeling unproductive. ive bitten my nails to stumps again. i feel weird. i want new friends. i feel lonely. im getting a tongue piercing this saturday because my parents will leave for a 10 day long trip. and it should be fun. painful as hell probably. if they dont see it ill be fine. its going to be quite small so whatevsies. not looking forward to the healing or the taste of blood. hope it doesnt hurt much. im going to a professional.

i want to see people. i need a party. drink a bit go a bit stupid. im tired. my digestions doing better but still needs some more time. i think. i hope. 

third day of summer school, supposed to end around maybe the 28th, i hope life gets easier. ive been sad lately, more existencial dread than anything. the feeling of time clipping forward and whatever. or that april was a million years ago. i need to be put down like a dog. 

its been such a strange lapse of time these days i feel like i want do do more with my life but i feel i cant really. the elections were not so long ago and i live in a red city. everyones pissed. i hate it here. if im outed as a communist i will probably be executed or something. i hope i make it. im allergic. OOHHH. i might not be cisgender. i dont fit here. i feel like im putting on a costume and putting on a show. i am going to ignore this information further.

im afraid i might be schizophrenic of schizoid ish. but because i consider this information i think im psyop-ing myself. maybe not. uh oh!

bloodclots

in all honesty i fell into a spiral of functional alcoholism just like my mother after a traumatic event in august from last year that ended in a rock bottom in april and i have ceased since. im ashamed of myself and nobody is on my side. they dont understand it and wont. i have no family. i have no one to call when i feel like carving a knife into my chest, i dont like my position in life. i am not fine. i am heavily suicidal and im not happy in my relationship. i never have been. it started out of an impulse and i never liked it. i hurt everyone. everything i touch turns to shit. i have nobody on my side and i throw up at least once a week from how upset i get. im so tired of living and im so scared of suicide. i doubt the existence of God. i doubt the goodness of God. i am sure that love is not real. i am not in love and i love scarcely. im in pain. i need to purge every last bit of acid in my stomach. i need to pour out my viscera and be clean. the city is hot and dense. nothing makes it better. im scared and unsatisfied. 

uh oh

 oh God its over i wont have a career ive fucked everything up i feel horrible. been watching live concerts lately very good and im also going insane my skin is breaking out my medicine isnt responding anymore and i want to break up with everything and live inside a fantasy world in my head. sperm is such a weird concept its so many half people all could be a different life and one could be cruel and the other could save the world with love but just how different could each one be if they are all still cursed with the same mother and father. are they or are theyre not individual chances at individual persons do they only have the possibility to exist with men and be punished and have to bear the condemnation of their parents. is each of them a different little half child or are all of them going to end up exactly the same do they all share the same soul that was concieved through the suffering and the nurturing of the bloodline. like a womans eggs that have existed since her own mother was alive. if my mother didnt have me but instead someone else, it would still be me wouldnt it. it was predestined before anything ever happened. and in simpler terms i have started existing when they first laid a finger on her and when she first felt shame. and so wouldve any one of the eggs that made it through. theres no use in wishing i was never born because there is no running when the soul has been brewing for a trillion years of punishment and sacrifice. life is a trap and any of the eggs i have in my body now are already suffering shakes and if any of them became a person no matter what they have seen what ive seen been violated like i was been disturbed and picked and abused like i was and how my mother was before me. and if my eggs were used and implanted on another woman maybe the crib of her womb would neutralize it and the love of its parents would change things but the blood is cursed even if the flesh is not but maybe it would be different. in a hand you could hold a billiom possibilities for a man or a woman but its the same soul that is going to be pulled from the sky and forced into a body. but aside from that i think you could like pick out any sperm from a certain man and any egg from a certain woman and the child would be exactly the same. join me in death...}

carries name necklace, natasha

i dont want to talkl about it much but ive been thinking about two thingies in sex and the city.

obviously the character carrie is quite annoying and immature, and cruel at times. but her entire feud about natasha strikes such a chord with me. i always thought it was a class thing mostly. natasha was born to old money and carrie came from little. the way they dress; natasha is towering, beautiful and classy, per se. her clothes are simple and neutral. carries are, well. theyre carries. shes always been known for that very young, very extravagant, fearless fashion. 

i relate to carrie in that sense, i feel too young and too out there sometimes. i feel like a clown. i feel ridiculous besides the girls in my university. powerless. theyre clean and i have a grown out buzzcut and wear ugly clothes. my stacks on stacks of rings and necklaces and bracelets im tattooed all over etc. these girls look clean and quiet. their hair is shiny and long. their skins are clear. 

it breaks my heart seeing carrie try to tower over natasha, when its just not in her to sacrifice her sense of style. she cant wear the white cami and the whatever. she cant be as beautiful. she cant. she meets her in a tiny crop top and a cowboy hat while natasha was wearing a simple white slip. 

i think of carries name necklace. this scene where carrie is in paris and tries to sacrifice herself for this new, clean metamorphosis. she finds her carrie necklace, a staple of her immature, "trashy" (PER SE!) style in a hole in her dior bag. she remembers who she is and she runs back. new york carrie bursts through her and its very beautiful. 

i had a moment like that. ive been having it. whatever.

suicide tonight or something. not really.

 God im so stupid.

i dont know why i keep feeling ike such a failure- im so stuck in the same cycle. im so stuck. i dont even want to see this weekend. im going to see friends. today, i saw my boyfriend and we had fun and i saw friends who i love with all of my heart and i had fun but i always feel so empty inside i dont know what it is. 

im so thankful for them, thats the thing. every therapist i ever talked to spoke about being thankful. but i am thankful. i just wish i could really enjoy the things i have fully. that makes sense, no? i know i have things i just wish i could enjoy them. i am thankful i have them but im just as upset as i was when i had nothing. 

it never feels too wrong when its happening. thats only because im good at suppressing the feeling while its going on. if i didnt, i would get violent. its not because it feels good. not because of anything. i dont know who im trying to convince. i just want him to know the truth of my spirit. i dont deceive him. i feel so small on his side. i feel so small and pathetic on his side and i know its the womans role within a realtionship but i already feel so small and so pathetic and so useless. i could be of use here. it is my biggest void and biggest point of guilt, biggest point of disgust and hysteria. i just dont want him to feel unwanted or unloved or lied to but i also dont want him to think im verbally lying to him and that my struggles are made up. it feels bad after. it does. what was i built for? i want to be in my room all day, i want to never leave a bed. and i keep picking at my eyelashes. im simply not there anywhere. at least he doesnt realize the extent of anything. nobody seems to. i would die for anyone.

i hope, i hope, i hope i make it. i hope i go to college. i cant work hard anymore.

i do love him so much, i love everyone. i wish i could nurture kindness. i need to go to confession. im too depraved, too sad, too lazy.

rainbow bridge

 

im so upset. so many mentions of cats dying. saw a post on an online forum i just read on. whatever. ill post screenshots.

im doing horrible and the world is so cruel and brutal i want to die tonight i cannot do this anymore. this is such a cruel world and i cant fathom another day. i cant pull through another day. i cant pull through another day. im so upset right now. im so upset. nothing matters. whimsy is a fantasy. frivolous things that make me happy are pathetic. i want to die. nothing matters. all that exists is suffering.

the only reason nice things exist in the world is for the world to rip them from you. i will never be happy because the world is cruel and horrible. i am shaking uncontrollably and i wish i was never born at all. why cant we all be happy and thats that. why do i have to see all of that that i love die in my arms someday. im so upset. i wish i was never born because i have done nothing good with my life and all life is meaningless and my spot on earth is stupid and everything is stupid and the world is full of bad intentions and it has bad intentions when it gifts you something i hate everything i love everything i hate everything nothing matters all that exists is suffering.

watching nothing doing it all

 i feel watched but not much more than i already did. I simply feel like an eye has been added to Gods eternal head. 

these weeks i let my acrylics break and i peeled them off bleeding in order to play the guitar. ive been playing my instruments everyday, drawing less-. i do miss my long red stiletto nails.

been doing not much at all but stressing over school- it might be completely over and my heart is still broken over everything. 

ive been thinking of

its like i let Him do anything to me with the hopes that Hell talk to me but He doesnt talk to me and still does anything He wants. because He always does. and i cant feel loved with these kinds of punishments. i dont want that. i dont want to feel so sick anymore or anything. i want life to feel beautiful. GOD PLEASE LET ME GET WHAT I WANT. GOD LISTEN TO ME! I DO WHAT I MUST! this song from the opera tosca- vissi d'arte! me!

i feel ashamed of my constant behavior. i feel so starved of conversation. real human conversation where its not me trying to convince someone im not insane.

i got more crosses on my back. i dont think i mentioned that. i dont think i mentioned the ankh on my leg either. i got it for the hunger by david bowie. blackout. and i got a bunch of beautiful crosses over my back. im getting more soon. i got some stars on my stomach for bowie as well. and i was always a star girl. never much of a heart girl. mostly 5 point stars. 

dont feel like i deserve my boyfriend. hes kind. but God does he annoy me sometimes. its who he is. very rational. i feel my vibes are so bad. honestly. i love his teeth.

im so stressed it hurts, i feel so alien and misunderstood so constantly. i wish i could scream. i constantly feel the need to yell and scream and hit someone or something. i repress it though. obviously. 

i also got small white fine line crosses on the middle of each of my middle fingers, on the palm side. hurt like hell and theyve already faded bad. im getting them done in red ink soon. 

new medicine is making me nauseous. badly! it does kind of work. well enough for the circumstance. also i cant rid of the feeling of wanting to run away forever. its so strange and painful here. this world is so cruel.

and i love my friends so much. so so so much. im so happy with them. im happy when i with them . 

and i still now dream of and long so badly for glamour, a long silk sleep robe and beautiful linen and long black hair that shines blue and white. i still dream of a beautiful apartment in new york. but i need to see an opera so badly right in this moment. i want so badly to be beautiful and shiny. i want my skin to pale down. i want all of the jewels, i want a new gold chain, ive been into sapphire and gold lately. my tiffany charms chain broke. it wasnt tiffany but it was important to me. anyway. i want new rings and new everything and all things beautiful. my skin is so bad.

someday ill be rich because of my own merits. im not very good at anything in particular but i will be. obsessed with moulin rouge and burlesque. and silent film. i wouldve devoured the 20s had i been alive. 

rumination is doing fine. alive and well. eater of worlds alive and well rotting in her room. 

im working on a new project in regards to my writing. it is called death eternal. short stories. thats that. 

revolution of heavenly bodies

 

so, the ep.

actually im not gonna say anything about it. figure it out.

bye

revolution of heavenly bodies

 i finally published the ep i have been working on for the uhh past nine days or so. ill speak of it tomorrow when im not sleepy. goodnight and long live eater of worlds.

baby names

 i may have talked about this but in my 19th birthday party this friend of mine started flirting with my boyfriend. i was pissed off and i went outside for a smoke, started feeling sick, he paid no mind. this was especially bad for me for reasons i wont talk about here, on that day specifically and on his which is only days before. when i got home, i threw up. when i went to confession next morning, i almost did at the booth again.

anyway i do like this friend of mine, shes pretty and generally cool. we talked once about baby names. it felt so strange to me, i felt a strange jealousy bubbling over. shes normal and wants kids, she struggles in her own way but shes fine. im sick and anorexic and failing even at that.

since i wont be having a child ill just mention names i like in a vacuum.

gloria

babylon

paul

damian

soledad

zafiro

kennedy

edgar

angustias

victoria

angel

leon

regina

teresa

venus

jupiter

junipero

alejandro

maría

alejandra

delfina

emile

emilio

pamela

joseph

sergio

balbina

henrietta

cosette

katherine

gabriel

nicholas

diamanda

ethel

dolores

i dont know what he sees in me. i am so sick and broken down, i am a hypocrite and a stupid woman. a truly stupid woman with no real drive. what to do now. i feel so sick. i feel so ugly, so pudgy, disdained, insane, sad and abandoned.

lunar events

 i got my permanent beauty marks. i think ill get them enlarged soon.  theyre only dots. i dont want them to be big but i dont want them to look like blackheads. got two, one under each eye. a millimeter under each eyelash line. those hurt.

i keep feeling a strange sense of dread. i missed the eclipse, it didnt show much where i lived. sadly. i do love lunar events. thinking of my next tattoos and dreading my month. wont spend a penny above what i need. but uni parking money charged per day.

this rage and overriding jealousy are so bad. i feel so bad. i feel so hurt. he left me here to go talk to some friend of his, i dont know much about her. i was so tense, my muscles was spasming and my heart was heavy into my belly. ive done and given so much to him. ive given so many parts of myself i cant get back if i wanted. hes my only hope. and i was sitting amidst my throbbing head and it was so low and so incredibly strong that my new guitar strings broke. i tried to read stories and watch soap operas but hearing their name. what are the chances.

God how am i going to live like this, how did you let me do this? i know its my own fault but how could you let me do this? i thought i would not suffer, i thought you gave me this safe haven to hide from my life. i thought you gave me something shiny to hold on to so i could reflect whatever light i could find and try to make out my path. why? 

why?

eclipse

 

I did not want to visit a psychiatrist. if i was to consumt, pour my secrets over, i feel like they would pounce back at me and id be raped again. 

everytime i think of it it floods me, i wish i was one to forgive things as they came back to me. but i am not. and God will never make me clean again. i will die in my filth. 

when i was a young girl I hated laughing and smiling. I was very stern and serious. when i found something pleasing or humorous, i tried my best for my facial expression to remain shaped into a solid mask.

i wish I could start over. i wish i could start over so badly. i know i cant. i can feel this death move into my body, laying its furniture, painting the walls of my skull. to know its too late is such a particular, cruel torture. why have this punishment, the greatest ever, be gifted to anyone who has committed the crime of living. 

this brain of mine, this parasite in this beautiful host. i am not happy. i made this shallow mud my grave. my remains are never going to be clean, i will perpetually rot and bloat into a pale, shapeless mass. and my body will never relax 

into my bones or shred and melt into the earth. 

and my skull is still so soft. it hurts to press into it. and the pressure inside my head is so dull and i feel as if i had an animal inside of it, expanding into its cavities. 

the eclipse is coming soon. I had a dream. The moon was shaped like a lightbulb and it floated around the world at an altitude of maybe six meters from the ground we live on. and it came into our house, my parents room where we were gathered, and destroyed everything. but its movement was slow, smooth and graceful. and it glowed white. 

how i wish for simpler times. how i do. how i writhe. i long for other things, long for other people, long for more. i looked good on saturday. today i dress in rags again, i fade into my bed. fade into oblivion. i step into the void that i house, this deep oceanic darkness. the sound of the atlantic ocean. the serpent deity wrapped around my ankles and wrists, spreading me over the marble platform, caressing my sternum with a shining blade. the ring of white light over the black night, the chirp on the creatures of day and the eyes of the creatures of night.

what did i do

 my soft animal body, what have i done to it? how have i fell down this hole.

i will get epidermal tattoos of beauty marks. like 40 usd total. hope its all good. im trying to acknowledge the pain of the physical form, i dont want to reject it anymore, i want to intentionally interact with my physical form, but what i want is to stop hurting. i worship all pain.

im ancient and medieval, im byzantine. i am soft, warm flesh squeezed by cold, hard steel. i wish i could remove my uterus, cut the skin between my legs and stitch it into a flat surface, then put a hot pink zirconia microdermal jewel on it so it doesnt look bland or uncanny. 

i wished as a child to stop understanding human sexuality. i saw it as an artistic rendition all of the worlds men and women took part of. it was not. i understood i never really got human sexuality and they did it out of seeking something. i never found it nor cared to find it. i know only that human pain has to upper limit, and pleasure is limited at the floral delight of sleep. midsummer nights dream. sleeping nymph under the emerald woods. i wish to be in my vision, i want to go home to my motherland. the star is so far. it is so far.

he lay the origin of his evil into the softness of my purity. i let him because he had imagined it into the continuous stream of time over and over until it calcified into the things that have happened, are happening and are happening. this body is worth cents, skin is a dime a pound. i let him because it had already happened. all the horrible things that can happen will, and it had always been so. i let him and i didnt move a twitch, i kept on my masque, singing and dancing. a stone dryad cracked at the tips of the limbs. i did it because it paid and it had already happened. and i didnt let anyone know i bled for days. he injected black tar venom into the warm walls of my entrapment where i lay inside my crib, my body deformed into a crab. i let him because this place has not hosted another voiced creature, i was only aware of the outside world through whatever echo the door allowed, i was only aware of the sun through the leaks on the roof. i bled for days and didnt tell a soul. i let him over and over. every day i bleed. i bled black and brown. my pillows no longer white.

i wish i was dead, for i cannot stop trying to dig myself out of my human realm. i am not from here. my mother egypt corrupted by man. my mother earth. i am from here. sand in my eyes. gold. turquoise sky.

i pass gold chains through my breast, i wear a mouche, i comb my hair with ivory, i have it fall, i never made love, i never got touched, i never was not capricious, i loved champagne. always loved wine and gold. i starv to death. i eat beautiful pastries. i never killed. i never laughed too hard. i never feared any over God. i always loved the sun. i apply white powder on my skin. i listen to rock n roll. listen to the harp, the organ the harpsichord. listen to metal. i wear myself, i carry my burden, i wait to die. always supple, never meaty, never too soft, always wayward always glamourous. 

however..

 ill word this as if this was my last post to comfort myself. depends on the night i have. i plan on drinking some maybe. ill see if i get bold and do it. i dont mind not saying it properly. a lot of people will not understand this statement. my family will know why and the only person close to me will know as well.

i have no one on my side here, nobody understands. i belong someplace else, i was born in the wrong body, wrong species, wrong planet. i was meant to be placed somewhere kinder. i cannot keep holding myself up to the same standards as human beings. im immature and i will never grow any older, i have stumbled into a deep well and my cries for help and aid sound like gushing water to the outside listener. my bones are broken. i was gifted with immortality and put in an iron casket, thrown to the sea. i was forsaken by God it feels. i prayed so hard for guidance and strength. but today i am more lost than i ever have been. weaker. i grew so weak over the past few. im scared of the future. i think i need to make a run for it. they are banging on my door and will soon break it in. i have to choose now, the window or their hands. 

i have to choose now. i am with no hope for the future, i am abandoned to the sake of the wilderness. it is getting darker and the heat is discipating, and the cruelty of the forest wakes at dusk. but i am ready to go into the stars.

HOWEVER

 i am still so thankful.

today i did fight with my mom. and we had some hangups. then she went out of her way to gift me guitar strings i needed desperately and a harmonica for reasons i dont understand. it was such a sweet gesture, i cried.

a friend of mine is being taken care of by her parents overtime. she has some sort of issue with gastric reflux and theyre flying her out of the country to see a doctor. i felt bad and slightly envious. this disease riddles me and prods me, it has taken my life. and she gets to go on a trip see a doctor because of this acid reflux. i also have acid reflux. it took my teeth. and it takes my voice. i KNOW its not easy business. but i feel so bad since i have this horrible, sick, scary future in front of me because of this horrible illness which feels like a personal attack  (i always was so obsessed with a concave stomach and being under 90 lbs. now i am closer to 100 or a bit more even and im bloated) and it takes so much that it ends me.

but i AM thankful. i am thankful that my parents have money to provide me comfortable sleep and food that i can eat. i am thankful that we are comfortable and as stable as we need to be. i am thankful we sometimes do try to love each other and show each other love. when  we ask each other for affection, i am thankful that sometimes we do try our best to go out of our way (we are often cold) and give it. i love my family, i love my dad even if he is a wall and my mom even if she is so dense. i love my brother to death and back. i love all of them but my brother is shaping up to be such a sweet, sensible man. i am very proud of the type of person he is becoming, truly a fine example of what a human being is. i hope he has kids if he so wants, i hope he finds a good woman because i know hes worried about that. i hope he is never corrupted by worldly forces. and if he does i hope i am still around to get him on the right path. but i hope he finds a great woman who is strong and as sweet as he is so they can grow together and populate the earth with equally good people. he of course has maturing to do, but hes shaping up. i am thankful for them, i am thankful for my angel of a brother, who remains still over the crashing, bawling ocean. i am thankful for my mom, her pieces lost into the deep black sea. but still her plaque stands and her spine is straight. i am thankful for my dad who doesnt face the shore.

i am thankful for my boyfriend above anything, i would die without him. i love him ardently. i dont deserve him, the world doesnt deserve him. he is giving, sacrificing, beautiful as a white lamb and gorgeously, purely, glowingly animalic as if he was coated in clean, soft fur. his breathing like a sleeping kitten. i adore him, i am endlessly devoted, i will do anything to fulfill him and whatever need he harvests, i will feed him my flesh and my bone marrow if he starved, if he craved for it. i would give him everything i have if he needed it. i would shave years off my life so he could go on longer, i will do it all to never be without him. i have known deep sorrows and he has brought me to my bleeding hands and knees on accident but never on purpose. he is everything to me, he is as big as the church. i cannot wait to marry him and sleep beside him, wake up beside him, come home to him, cook his meals and wash his linen with my hands. i love him and i am so thankful for his grace, his bright mind like a gem, his drive, his beauty, his gentle hands. i love him and i am eternally chained to the debts i have to him. i love him and i am thankful about everything he is and has ever been.

we watched interview with a vampire through video call. hes so patient with me. we havent seen each other in days, we spend up to twelve hours in video calls each day. interview with a vampire is one of my favorite movies (no surprise there), we enjoyed it quite a bit. we watched better call saul and talked and talked. today we watched the lobster which he really liked and walked a lot. i am so thankful for today even though its been so rough.

i am thankful for VILLE VALO AND HIS CONTRIBUTION TO MY MUSIC CANON. i am thankful for NEON NOIR AND ALSO ALL OF THE HIM DISCOGRAPHY. i am thankful for lana del rey and nicole dollanganger for making me the person i am (oops!) and to DAVID "BOWIE" JONES for making me into the woman i grew to be and for being my father superior I MISS YOU STILL. to pat benatar, pj harvey and joan jett for making me into a woman in the first place. i am thankful to LORD WORM and the entirety of CRYPTOPSY for NONE SO VILE AND WHISPER SUPREMACY and BLASPHEMY MADE FLESH NONE SO VILE BEST DEATH METAL ALBUM. i am thankful and forever grieving PELLE OHLIN for his contribution to BLACK METAL with his bands MORBID and MAYHEM. i am thankful and forever grieving  QUORTHON who is BACK IN THE FLESH I CARRY.  YOUR LEGACY WILL LIVE ON. i am thankful to LEONARD COHEN. i am thankful for the girlies at AGRICULTURE. to BATUSHKA. to DARKTHRONE. to EMPEROR and IMMORTAL. to GEORGE "CORPSEGRINDER" FISHER and the entirety of CANNIBAL CORPSE. to the people over at DEATH now DEATH TO ALL. to MUSIC! TO MUSIC AND ART! TO MY OPERA TEACHER.

i am thankful for the virility i have left, the vitality. the beating of my heart is deeper and than most peoples, it is engraved into the earth. i have been here forever. i am thankful for my bed and my body that has stood torture like no other, and crawling broken and limp but standing still.

i am thankful to Jesus Christ who died for our sins and LORD FATHER GOD who send us His Son for our salvation and to THEOTOKOS HOLY MOTHER of Christ AVE MARIA REGINA MATER, SANCTISSIMA ET PURA, DULCIS ET MISERICORS. 

i am thankful for all of the world. my beautiful cats sidney, delfina, kennedy and darcy. my future cats and my future little pets. my house. my city. my hopefully future place i will live in. whatever happens to me. forever thankful.

about how i wanted a few months off..

they kicked me out. they said if i didnt get psychiatric help they would not help me . i will not be doing that.

OHHHH MYYY GODDDD what am i going to do?

im two years behind on college! i gate ibs! i hate this! meaooww! OHH GOODDDD when will the suffering end.. i will rot in my room. . my parents took my car after a psychotic break i had and also i dont have any money. 15 usd total in my name. no more nothing for anything. i cant leave my house for the foreseeable future.

CHAT WHAT SHOULD I DO.. SAY IN COMMENTS.. WHY IS THE WORLD SO CRUEL..
 

lust for rest, on God and suffering, shame, being a christian first and catholic second

 i am ashamed of myself and my faults and shortcoming are unacceptable. it is what it is. God sends for us to fear Him and we should.

shame out of inability to abstain from pleasure - food, sex, money, drugs - is as necessary as abstinence from violence and being mean. it is far more necessary to be able to be kind and to give than it is to keep our spirits safe and untouched, but in order to achieve salvation and higher existence we must avoid all pleasure that is material and we must give as much as we can. it does not matter to who. we must give and not wish to receive back.

i am having night terrors, demonic attacks. every night i wake up around 3 to 5 am. i drink water and sleep. i am dreading all life. i am dreading everything. 

i put my faith in Christ still. i went to church yesterday and it talked about death and suffering as a way to shred our human skin and be reaped then and carried by the Lord our Father. i am afraid of everything, my sadness envelops me, i am scared for my life, i am sick and tired, im becoming gray.

i need a few months off from anything, i need rest. i sleep for so many hours. i feel so much sorrow, so much shame on my body, soul, intentions, wishes. i wish for more than death, and my longing for death is the only one of my desires that does not torment but cradles me.

as humans we are animals that shit and piss and grow sores and infections, we host parasites and get abused for stupid reasons. we are also beings of light that know how to love out of instinct, not heritage nor through learning. i think im just a sad, sick, filthy animal.

stakes

wondering about how close i am to the day God will strike his final blow. to my jaw or my nose. im so surrendered. i feel terrible. im ill and sad. this heartache is killing me. i wish i was somewhere else. this has been the worst point of my life. im in the depths and i know it can get worse. i know the ways it can get worse but i dont know .

this is a draft from november

talk to me!

 one of those days where im so sleepy my eyes burn.

yesterday we talked about bpd in class and they kept saying things that were not very kind. made me feel awful. i went home flipped a coin three times. landed on heads three times and i decided to get a buzzcut again. oh no! fought with my mom all day. oh no!

God i do not know what to do i feel doomed. my college bit is not going very well. i am so so so lethargic. im so tired, i long for sleep so badly, so badly. this is so hard. 

i need money, my mom offered me money so i grew my hair out. i just cant, not now. i cant be stressing over combing and taking care and doing my hair and paying premium for it. i wanted to dye it black as i used to but my mom says it is not a good idea. i like how it looks like. cool or neutral black, always liked it. i used to dye it black when i was fourteen, lasted until sixteen. i liked it.

i needed a change. ive been trying to push for a piercing or something but what can i say. i had to take out my right nipple piercing since it was pierced in too deep. ill get it done again soon. im gonna save up for my backpiece, im scared my mom will tell my dad about my tattoos. she will get scared when she sees them. i dont think she expects things this big. anyway. maybe i get handpoke tattoo materials, some ink and needles and whatnot. 

im so scared theyre going to kick me out.

i dont know what to do. i feel upset so much of the time. 

what to do, what to do.

-

-

update

oops they kicked me out

REST IN PEACE, PELLE OHLIN

 A dream of another existence

you wish to die
a dream of another world
you pray for death to release the soul.
One must die to find peace inside, you must get eternal
I am a mortal but am I human ?
How beautiful life is now when my time has come
A human destiny but nothing human inside
What will be left of me when I'm dead, there was
nothing when I lived

"What you found was eternal death
no one will ever miss you"

https://pelleohlinmorbidmayhem.blogspot.com/p/pelle-ohlin.html?sc=1709958294999#c6000538350098004394

interesting blog on Pelle "Dead" Ohlin, from Mayhem. rest in peace, angel.

i have a piece of him in my heart or soul. i understand his remorse, his pain.

i wish we could talk, i wish to talk to him. maybe someday, soon. i think- i have decided. i will die soon. bathory/marian stamp tattoo HURT! HURTING STILL! but very worth it. 

i want to get some of Pelles drawing inked into me one day, or a lyric. something less sad. im not into reeincarnation. that would suck. when i die, i do not want to be back. i do devoutly think that if it is real im either him or quorthon. maybe both. i want to be quorthon. he seems like me but i do suffer badly. i have been having stomach issues all day and i went and got a bottle of tamarind flavored vodka. had a glass of wine and now im drunk off the vodka. i am not having the best time. i hope i can make good music. im very drunk right now. i think i could make a very good traditional black metal album, i think i can try to make a new sound, make it be raw and rotted, death from the cold in my room. i hope i can live up to my ancestors. mainly, i think of quorthon, pelle, i think of a blaze in the north in the northern sky. 

my city is never cold, it is gray ash sky and religiously hot. i have experienced the cold however, in starvation. a cold that radiates from my soul and bones into my muscles and flesh. a paleness one can only get by wreckage and decomposition, necrosis. i am now diving right back, starving, bleak. the pain, the meaningless nature of my existence, the apathy of God Yavé.

i hope i can achieve the beauty of their creations, i wish to be possessed by the spirit of black metal, for it to use my throat into screech and my body into shake. i wish to be possessed by medievality, a heavy sword of steel both wielded and housed in my ribs. 

i will be done for by it, not before i can channel it.

rumination will be out after my EPs, which will be tributes by nature, everything i do is tribute. nothing that i do happens in vain.

entering the eternal fire rn

 the realization of meaninglessness and its prominence has done a lot of harm especially now that i realize how meaningless school and work is and how stupid i am for not being able to let go of everything. 

i want to die, i dont think i am getting better ever. if i do, the world will be worse.

i am so sad, everything smells like vomit and everything is affecting me.

tomorrow i get my bathory tattoo though. yay.

drowsy

 i need someone to talk to. i feel misunderstood. the one person i can talk to cannot fit inside of my head. i am in a constant, shriveled, rotted state of longing for grace and dreading whatever vocation i have chosen to indulge myself in. i have fallen into the same patterns i have been subjected to by myself constantly. i am sad and dismayed, i am hurt. i am tired of my body and i feel disconnected to it. i cannot respond to its ugly wishes without then feeling dread and remorse. i cannot eat in peace, i cannot do much more than sleep. i get bored. 

i long and long for beauty like people long for love or money, i long for beauty like i should long for a lover. i long for ascension into a beautiful world where i am at peace and i can draw and sing the glory of God but for His love i cannot do much but 

i dont want to join a monastery, i live in perpetual superficial desire for more and more when i truly just want to lay and rest, and create beauty and consume it, take it into my mouth and feel it sitting warm over my tongue, like an animal finding refuge in a cavern from the downpour. i long to be some form of victorian ghost, to lose my blood and my flesh and walk the earth looking and seeing. i cant taste, i cant feel, i have lost my senses and yet i am automatic in my response to eat and drink and fuck, i have to restrain myself to my bed for a semblance of the serenity i want. i feel like hunger and abstinence from all that moves and can be felt should by definition do good to me, its the natural state of my spirit, yet i have these two sides of me. 

i feel like the part of my that i host, this wretched, sad parasite, moves me and contorts me into a thing i cannot recognize. i feel i must get rid of it but id have to kill it and then where would i live? i feel like the side of my that writes this and does the things i do, the writing and the painting and the playing, is the victim of the disease. the disease that is a rabid creature that cries to me. a baby that i leave inside of a crib to die from starvation, but who cries until it vomits and rots and rots and builds up a foul odor. i feed it my flesh and my blood and sweat only then but it continues wanting from me, and it will continue to do so. i cannot resist the cries, i cannot sleep through it.

i want to be free from the reign of my body, that weeps and wails. because it is an animal that has resided in my home that now growls at me when i dont want to feed it my meals and hollers when i try to push it out of my own home. an animal that i did not choose to house. a daughter i never had. wants and wants and feels like it deserves my sacrifice but it cannot offer me anything i want, gives it to me anyway, makes the hands i hold them in turn black and infected.

this pain is an eternal fire. it is horrible. it is so long and weary. i hate it. i despise this. i want to go. this pain want to scrub off my skin but it is embedded into me deep into my viscera, i must kill it but then i will have to end the possibility for a future i want, i know its never coming, i just cant have it here the way i cant have it anywhere else. its just material and this is the only material i have, one thing in common is  better than none. this lack makes me insane. i need to go.

i pray for death.

hello march!

 maybe it is my own delusions on the spiritual world that have ruined me?

i fear God too much. maybe i have too much faith. but i dont follow His word to the point i am calm about my salvation, or to be steady im the fact he is not vengeful to me. i try to drill into my head Hos love and compassiom, i fear i am wrong. 

im afraid this deprivatiom of my natural life will kill me, it will sow and harvest some cancer inside of my colon or ovaries or brain or bones, i fear my bones will spike up and above my skin, rising like shipwrecks parting the narrowing sea. and i will develop spikes like a cactus, through my face and body. and in my final, darkest hour, novody will approach me to kiss my bone lined hands or nose.

my bloomed asexuality and lack of any real libido for life that will stagger worries me- is the hole i need filling the result of my heavy burden to remain hallow, or if that same impulsion is the hole that needs filling. 

-

my room and general house reeks of this vomit odor. its everywhere, faintly then broadly. im not sure of what may have caused it. maybe one of the cats somehow regurgitated their wet food somewhere hidden. but its unlikely. i drank myself into vomiting tuesday, but it was in the bathroom and i flushed it out. i was at a point of extreme light headedness so i went on and headed downstairs to have a shot and a half of cognac so it would burn and i could at least feel the release of something coming back up. it was violent i did feel better afterwards.

im getting the none so vile tattoo today, then next week the one over my womb, under my bello button. not the same day since im getting them from different artists. 

i do not know what is wrong with me. 

on my body, again. on the material world.

 in my mind these days are my organs sitting on top of each other and against my pelvic floor, i imagine my viscera glowing pinkish plastic red like the cough syrup i used to take as a child. i imagine the wrestling that goes on in there. and i say in there instead of in here because something still compels me to this strange compulsion, to think that its like an exodimensional mind that is connected to me through wrinkles and cavities within time and space, then through the sky and into my stem. they are, however, in here as i speak and since before i was born. and until i die, then after. 

i can feel them squirm. i treat my internal world so badly. but it is me who i am trying to keep safe. they are as i am, their individual needs are not met so they hurt me, and mine are not either so i continue to deprive and punish them as i deem necessary. because thats what i need to do in the name of self preservation. 

my womb, my reproduction, my centers are all corrupted and blemished by necrosis inside my head. inside my head, i smell of the disgusting sweetness of mold and toxic gas like an oven. i put my finger in my mouth and it feels hot. my insides are hot. every mouth on me, hot, wet, slippery, soft walls. if i removed my teeth, the mouths that held them would be the same. if i made a hole in my stomach, if i slit into my leg and i put my finger in it. all the same. its not about the erotic, its the erotic within the body. it is a sensual machine, made to suffer and be tricked into destruction with the allure of a promise of pleasure.

im a cold, frigid prude and i am cruel because i am so angry at this body. i wish i could love it. hated always my openings, never wanted to smile, never liked the idea of having holes within my own mass, some that would pierce me. i have a hole that pierces me that i cannot find and thus cannot fill. i am trapped in the body of an animal that is mine to work with but not mine to love. i hated my breasts, i wanted so bad and still want so bad to starve them into my ribs. hated my figure, loved my concave waist when it used to be concave and sank deep into my muscular tissue, sank into itself.

i feel my body yell and scream and want and even when i slap its little head and scold it for doing what it does it cannot stand still. its an abused cat that has reverted into kitten behaviors now that it feels death coming in near, bringing me toys, asking for play. i feel this pity but it also is so disgusting, makes me do disgusting things, begs for them, runs and tramples over me, blacks me out into the ether and by the time im back its too late and the deed is done, and im left with a bag of flesh and stray bones to take care of and put back together. 

im still this and i will be until it dies, then i will stay here as i go under the shallow earth and will be there within each and every last maggot that fed on me only to do it all over again. at least them i can scream woeful, muted yells into my mouth and drag myself into an early grave, into the beak of a bird that will feed the flowers on my gave.

Prostitution and Male Supremacy - Andrea Dworkin

"I want to bring us back to basics. Prostitution: what is it? It is the use of a woman's body for sex by a man, he pays money, he does what he wants. The minute you move away from what it really is, you move away from prostitution into the world of ideas. You will feel better; you will have a better time; it is more fun; there is plenty to discuss, but you will be discussing ideas, not prostitution. Prostitution is not an idea. It is the mouth, the vagina, the rectum, penetrated usually by a penis, sometimes hands, sometimes objects, by one man and then another and then another and then another and then another. That's what it is.
I ask you to think about your own bodies—if you can do so outside the world that the pornographers have created in your minds, the flat, dead, floating mouths and vaginas and anuses of women. I ask you to think concretely about your own bodies used that way. How sexy is it? Is it fun? The people who defend prostitution and pornography want you to feel a kinky little thrill every time you think of something being stuck in a woman. I want you to feel the delicate tissues in her body that are being misused. I want you to feel what it feels like when it happens over and over and over and over and over and over and over again: because that is what prostitution is.
Which is why—from the perspective of a woman in prostitution or a woman who has been in prostitution—the distinctions other people make between whether the event took place in the Plaza Hotel or somewhere more inelegant are not the distinctions that matter. These are irreconcilable perceptions, with irreconcilable premises. Of course the circumstances must matter, you say. No, they do not, because we are talking about the use of the mouth, the vagina, and the rectum. The circumstances don't mitigate or modify what prostitution is.
And so, many of us are saying that prostitution is intrinsically abusive. Let me be clear. I am talking to you about prostitution per se, without more violence, without extra violence, without a woman being hit, without a woman being pushed. Prostitution in and of itself is an abuse of a woman's body. Those of us who say this are accused of being simple-minded. But prostitution is very simple. And if you are not simple-minded, you will never understand it. The more complex you manage to be, the further away from the reality you will be—the safer you will be, the happier you will be, the more fun you will have discussing the issue of prostitution. In prostitution, no woman stays whole. It is impossible to use a human body in the way women's bodies are used in prostitution and to have a whole human being at the end of it, or in the middle of it, or close to the beginning of it. It's impossible. And no woman gets whole again later, after. Women who have been abused in prostitution have some choices to make. You have seen very brave women here make some very important choices: to use what they know; to try to communicate to you what they know. But nobody gets whole, because too much is taken away when the invasion is inside you, when the brutality is inside your skin. We try so hard to communicate, all of us to each other, the pain. We plead, we make analogies. The only analogy I can think of concerning prostitution is that it is more like gang rape than it is like anything else."

hai hallo :3

 im doing what i can, i think its rough still. my digestion is better. i havent seen my friends but i did get my nails done super long for a lot of money and got a tattoo on my foot. im adding to it soon as well as one on my womb. im still delusional and schizo about feeling like maybe im pregnant and that my very painful period which lasted about three days (wtf ik) was implantation bleeding since the blood was sparce and dark. i know im paranoid and thats impossible. but i have ocd. im also a virgin. but i do have memory loss on traumatic events like anything remotely sexual gets deleted and abstracted as im living it and then even worse after. 

i talk too much about myself on here but i dont talk about anything much outside. i feel lonely and isolated, kind of. life just doesnt feel exciting. the world is not really welcoming i think. i feel alien. navel is healing .. fine ..... its been a rough journey and if it ends up migrating or rejecting i will kill myself. nipple piercings healing fine. wish things could just be easier. i just wanna finish my studies man i hate my school and psychology is a pseudoscience at this point in time. i wish these hoes took the psych in psychology more seriously. it feels like the kind of thing people.

anyway im going to a death concert soon. i loved suffocation in november, i am not as into death metal as i am into black metal. my project is going well enough. the nails are staggering. i AM excited for the release of rumination! itll be a beautiful project.

i did not get all the way here just to get all the way here. ill be better. stopped eating meat for lent, thats about it. im praying everyday.

i wish for better things constantly. i want a spoonful of honey and good coffee and red wine, i want a hearty soup, i want a big traditional american tattoo. im gonna get the bathory logo very big on my calf, from my knee to my ankle. idk. 

kanyes vultures

 ive been home for a while. my digestion has been so bad lately. i have been doing not much. colonics, very painful. intrusive. i feel less naked with my inks than i did last time i did it. cant wait for my next sessions. but i feel miserable. theres a vision of my doing stuff outside of the house, maybe yoga and parties and boxing classes and french lessons and piano. so much that i cant do. its right outside. i feel awful.

my hair is bothering me. my stomach hurts. i wanna go shopping. i want new earrings. i want new nails, i want my parents to love me, i want someone to talk to, yesterday i had a meeting with a psychoanalyst on zoom and i hated it. i have parasites! im taking an anti parasite drug. i hate it. parasites are my biggest phobia. its not a phobia, its not irrational. hate maggots and im grossed out to an intense amount by parasite stuff. oh my God! youre joking!

backbreaking. im out of my head right now. im not delusional, i think im in purgatory. literally, not metaphorically. maybe God is punishing me. im waiting to die practically. praying the rosary. i broke into a hellish panic attack then remembered i needed to get my ass in church so i did. tons of people. i feel stupid. God i wish i died. im not motivated. maybe its the parasites speaking. my parents left me alone last weekend and i started hallucinating. maybe the parasites are doing some damage to my poor glossy shiny soft pink brain.

new project, eater of worlds, will be releasing. an ep maybe. 

OOOHHHHHHH!!1

keep having dreams of my boyfriend being mad at me, like, breaking up with me. being stern and cold. dreams of my parents doing the same. people i like a lot, whose approval i seek. 

dreamt of a cougar outside of my room trying to kill me and a regular sized black scorpion annihilating it, tearing it to small pieces.

dreamt of ville valo being irritated at me again.

dreamt of killing myself with a beautiful kitchen knife.

i wanna be with friends! its friday and i wanna get drunk.

i luv the valley, oh!

 haii hai :3 hai haii hai :3

i am currently in neuro class i am suffering and i am losing my mind i am tired i am weary i could sleep for a thousand years a thousand dreams that would awake me different colors made of tears

saturday classes area actually going to kill me im not even like kidding my free days are wednesday and sunday and nobodys free on tuesday to play i cant stay up on wednesday to play and sunday is for gloomy feelings not fun with friends.

as i have said i understand the impulsion to do heroin I WONT but i understand why someone would do that i only would if i were dying but not WHEN im dying. like the days before just so i can live it. but. i want to be sober and awake when i die and i want it to be semi slow (10 minutes) but not super gruesome (want an open casket funeral as soon as possible after death) maybe just like peaceful and mostly painless but i do want to be awake. i dont want to pass in my sleep or of old age. i want to die at about 28. i think its a good age to go for someone like me. at least that would be the case if i was a superstar which i deserve but i wont be one. maybe one day people will find me music projects and i will become so successful and so ingrained into the public subconsciousness that everyone will know my name and face and art without seeking it out. 

long time no seethe

 oh God pms got me super suicidal last week and the week before that im back.

ok so where did i leave you? 

im in psychology now, officially signed in and studying. schools hard, very far away. twenty something kilometers. i dont think ive made a mistake when it comes to school or my career of choice but im still working hard to get a tattoo apprenticeship. i considered becoming a mortician for the longest time. 

my car broke down and getting a new one was a whole deal with my family. im still very thankful we can afford one. its very modern and im not used to the whole cameras on the back thing or the screen or button instead of a key. i will get used to it though. my old car was so beautiful, a little black 2013 beetle i loved so much, i used it for a year but it kept turning off in the middle of nowhere and breaking down and the wheels kept doing weird things. im happy we can afford it but im sad to let go of my beetle.

got my bow tattoos! a bit higher than i wish, ill do anklets of stars or thorns. i also got my corset done, it was painful as all hell. the corset was extremely painful at times, about 30 cms long and lasted about 6 hours. 250usd. not bad at all. i got my navel done but i had to have it repierced because the piercer got it crooked, then i had to get a new piece of jewelry because it was too small for the swelling. painful! then i got my nipples pierced and today i had to get one done again because one side was pierced way too deep. painful! hopefully nothing happens. thats that. i also bought a new septum ring. a captive bead titanium ringy thingy. im doing good hope my nipple heals well PRAYING TO GOD INVOKING GOD FOR IT TO HEAL WELL!

yay!

life is fine my period is debilitating my cat is soft and sweet and on my bed right now im going to get a facial and tomorrow classes will kill me. 8:30 am class on saturday will kill me.  but wednesday is for anything i could ever want.

kms. sylvia plath in her journals.

 Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all this is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always supposedly in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yes, God, I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...

im outgoing and personable. im sweet and kind. im pretty and nice. im funny and smart.

im cruel. i hurt people. i am like a boy squeezing a puppy dogs stomach, seeing how far i can bend its limbs before it whines or they break, dropping it on its back. holding a squirrel underwater until it drowns. strangling a duck and watching its eyes fade and turn into beads.

i wish i was normal. i dont think im bad, i think im just cruel and i can always just try to be better, sweeter. i think i will never be. its not my nature, i bare my teeth and bite, see how hard i can clench my jaw with someones hand between my canines. i wish i didnt. if i dont check myself, i will keep doing it. its an instinct.

i wish it was better. i wish i was someones peace. im not. i cant be. im a tidal, a tempest. not in a fun way.

i fucked up

 

during a breakdown i was having i told my mom. about the. um.

should i kill myself.

i find myself at the passengers seat of the tesla, begging my mom to love me. as i have over and over, as i will countless times more.

i went to the dermatologist and cried very hard. i had to leave. tomorrow i start school, im so nervous i could vomit. everything is so blurry.

im in the car as she goes to the dentista office. i sit here waiting for her to come and apologize for making me cry. i wait for her to bring me maybe a hot coffee or a diet coke so we can sit and i can tall to her about my fears and my goals. instead, im expecting her to call my dad so i can come home and they can ruin my life acting like its a consequence of my actions, like i had to now face their punishment as a natural consequence of being stupid, immature and bold.

i wait for her in this car and my face hurts from the visit to the dermatologist and im housing infections inside of my skin and i feel gross. and tomorrow i have classes. and my life is ruined again and i cant ever be happy. im sad about it. i lost an innocence i cant describe. i have a darkness to me i cant get rid off.

im fucked.  i wish i was loved. i deserve mercy this time.

on tattoo regret! and anxiety! and personal style! and trends! and IN ME DEFENSE

hi!

 so, i have several tattoos and am about to get my boldest one probably ever.

its a lace up on my ribs and waist like a coset, thick ribbon, as if i was pierced and a ribbon was laced through the piercings.

i am doing it, i have thought about it a bit and im going through with it.

i also have a lower back tramp stamp type placement of a medieval cross, i have two ornamented small ones on each hipbone- chi rho and a heartagram- a st james cross on my sternum and a "necklace" heartagram on my chest. i also have a bow on each oh my calves and a small :3 on my right foot. 

i know this corset is the most expensive and most unorthodox one so far. im only 19 and these will last me my entire life. i am obviously anxious since now my body isnt a clean slate and i cant do new ideas, and since i had this whole thing about purity that i destroyed by getting tattoos and piercings. later, i noticed that the reason i was so anxious about it and the reason i liked tattoos but wouldnt get them was the same reasons i am anorexic (gasp omg what), more like. its that i wanted to maintain childlike youthfulness on my body and purity as well. i wanted to fit in everywhere and change my style.

so i see the corset as a said and done thing. i feel like i cant turn back now, i think well. what to do now. if i dont like it when im older, if it seems stupid and young.  then i saw snitcherys video on her tattoo regrets.

she has heavy japanese style tattoos on her body. so bold that they wouldnt be able to be removed, and theyre all very visible. she spoke about how maybe if tiktok wasnt throwing new "-cores" and trends, then maybe she wouldnt feel as bad. she feels like she isnt as versatile anymore and wishes she could start over, then she maybe wouldnt do them again. 

heres my two cents:

i know im young and stupid but when i was 12 i was obsessed with lord of the rings. to the point i wouldve gotten something tattooed. right now i would not get a lord of the rings tattoo. but if i did, i think id cherish it. even if it was big or one of those fuckass micro tattoos that were and still are popular now. even in red ink.

i would still like it and i would not try to take it off because when i was 12 i had a sincere, true love for lord of the rings. i loved earthy elfy things and listened to aurora obsessively and loved going out to climb trees and i loved high fantasy. i was into what tumblr called ethereal at the time, i was into flowers in my hair, i was into growing plants. if i got a thing like this

i would still love it but maybe dread the placement since i have a design for that part of my body specifically.  i would cherish it like i would cherish the ring i got when i was at that age. thick and gold. very ugly. but i loved it and cried when i lost it and still mourn it when i think of it. 

its interesting, snitcherys point. i think shes right in her own perspective. to me, i feel like when i try to change my style to something trendier, i end up losing myself or feeling like i just am not myself. with my tattoos, i feel like no matter what i wear, i still have touches that are 100% mine. i see them as new extensions of my skin that will grow and wrinkle and fade with me if God wills it. im not a trend follower, i try to stay away from the "tiktok -core" thingies because i feel like im prone to trying to chase after something that is, well. not gonna be me and will never be me, i have never 100% fit into a style no matter how hard i try. now that i dont chase trends and have become unaware, i feel like i 100% fit into a style ive always loved but had been hiding from. a style that i fit into 100%, and no one else can.

as for not regretting a tattoo but regretting tattoos in general. i dont know. i always had the same tastes, i never wanted color and i always wanted simple, timeless or obviously vintage/little bit retro designs (tramp stamp. and the corset thing now that i think of it wouldve ate in the 2007 scene)(and the heartagram(s)). i only ever was into should i get tattoos, which i do want many of, or should i leave my body blank. well. i have always struggled with self image and since i got them i feel better when i take a shower. thats what im going to say about the topic. yes, they will age and look ugly and faded. so will i. and ill be lucky to live long enough so that i see them turn ugly. a comment under a video i saw on the topic said that they got tattoos but now that they have terminal cancer all they wish is that they lived long enough to regret them. if i do, and i turn ugly and faded with time, i think ill say damn! i really shouldve left my body blank! then again i wont like until 90. probably not 60 and maybe not even 50. and if i do, itll be a blessing.

my main point is that yeah maybe i will live to 100 and my tattoos will look bad. so what. im 100 years old. i will also look ugly. at least i got to live to 100! a lot of people with illnesses like mine dont live to see 20. when im 101 and in my deathbed, i wont regret them. quite the opposite, i think ill be glad i got them, that now that my carnal, worldly body will lay down and rest forever, and be consumed by the earth, then ill understand the black blotches on my skin always mattered. but were never a real concern. im almost 20 and it was yesterday that i was 4 and lived at my grandmas house. it was a few hours ago that i finished middle school. it was a few minutes ago that i got expelled from high school and had to figure it out myself. its so fast. these tattoos will turn into blotches in no time, and these blotches will turn into fertilizer even faster.

main point here: its not that serious. never was, never will be. have fun, be happy, be who you are meant to be, not who you want to be. this way, you will never suffer again.

 

i could maybe try to crawl back home, i lack the muscle and a few bones are missing

 

went on a hedonistic cruise when i was sixteen. a cabaret of lights and bones. i got ill from an unknown, strange disease. made me putrid, necrosis on my thighs, arms, face, waist like a tar rash. i hid away but it was found. i was sent away, i had to leave, they made me walk a plank, be pushed out to sea to swim to wherever i belonged. when i come back home, the keys had been changed by force. when i knocked the doot down i found my home had been robbed. distraught and still riding the high, i tried making a list of the things stolen from me. id done what i could to track down my posessions. i wasnt able to until i sobered up. my family heirlooms, gifts from friends, my makeup, my paintings, my bed and my books. all gone. 

my money was gone, my youth was blackened. i tried tor recall where everything went, i tried to remember who took my things even though i knew i wasnt there when i was violated.

i was, i feel it in my body. i can feel it through the walls. i just dont remember. 

i lost my mom, my dad. i want my mom. i call to her but she wont respond anymore. someone is under the dirt. six feet of gravel, less even, maybe its not gravel but dirt. i dont know who is under the earth, likely me. i feel tingles. it has started eating my protein, my neglect, my bones. chewing on my softly. i feel it.

hated for my time away, wouldnt call it that. i wanted to be back so bad but now that i an not beautiful and young, i cant be admitted. i want it so bad it makes me  black and humid inside. it makes me feel dead. makes me wish for the real thing. 

no beauty could save me. it would make me worse.

i did what i could to tame my ugliness, i did what i could to lure beauty, lather it on my skin hoping it would get absorbed. it did not. i tried surrounding myself with quiet, peaceful, beautiful things. it only made the contrast more painful.

i did it all and it wouldnt work for me, nothing couldve saved me. 

i am not from here. the world wont accept me and i wont accept it. too rough and in too soft, my flesh is too soft, i scar so easily. i heal too quick. i jump back fast. im lathering my skin with rose oil and growing my hair and painting my nails, waiting to die.