Oh doll... I know your mind is so loud, just read along and pay attention to my pretty words making you
Drop
Lower and lower
Each time you scroll down you
Drop
Focus on how empty your holes are
Every time you see the pretty pink words you
Drop
Let your mind float away...far away as you
Drop
Focus on how desperately clench onto nothing
Feel your arousal build higher & higher until you
Drop
Even deeper, desperately trying to fight it
Good toys dont fight it
Be a good toy and
Drop
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BIG HANDS // GIRDE MAYE/ASTERE
[OSSARIO 12″, 2021]
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i stare up at the ceiling, why is my chest so tight
when i was young, i feared the unknown
but now,
i fear the known
it's so
EMPTY
EMPTY
the dark was once full of monsters
i toss and turn, the knowledge torments
it's all
EMPTY
EMPTY
i cry for my inner demons at night
anything to fill this void
fear or pleasure
as long as it's not
EMPTY
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I just wanna lay down but I also wanna make the most of my free time.
I hate it.
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I wish I could stop existing … in moments I’m not needed… I wish it was permanent but I’d hurt those who care… but to not exist in moments of no responsibilities or times I don’t have to fake my smile…
Maybe if I keep practicing mentally disappearing I can partially obtain this…
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"His existence is weird."
Today, I had this causal feeling that today would be a good day, or so I told myself. A Monday after a weekend, usually a day of tiresome, mental grog, and the rebooting of one's system. Back to dealing with people; back to being in society; and back to not being in the little sphere that is the privacy one keeps to themselves to on weekends.
I have been feeling weird myself. This is nothing new of course, but recently, yes recently... it has been much worse. Small talk fails to provide interest. Either I simply haven't the skills for it or my brain has failed in what constitutes pleasure, with conversation not being one of those things. It feels like I'm always pretending, almost as though humanizing myself in a way. Where in the moments I have to speak to someone, I only ask questions for the sake of asking — to fill in the gaps of oblivion, which we call "silence". And through my daily, often my brain is but blank. As though a newly fresh canvas, left untouched and forever ignored with no impression painted. This is the feeling.
In light of all the positives I've mentioned, today was in fact not that good of a day at all. I was happier in a sense more when in thought of how my day would be, rather than what reality presented me.
A friend of a friend of mine, someone I've never really interacted with, but only on brief occasions and is rather pretty, expressed their impression of me. The impression, or rather thought, is that:
"His existence is weird."
What am I to make of such a statement?
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I feel. Well. I feel....I don't even know. I don't know what I feel but it sure is something
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Sorry for the reblog spam that might have happened right now...
I lost track of time, my surroundings and how much I rebloged before, BUT
my phone reminded me with a bunch of push notifications all coming in at one for whatever reason...
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