vc vai precisar de:
- lâmina que vc normalmente usa pra se auto mutilar;
- pelo menos três comorbidades residuais de tricotilomania.
mão na massa:
incansavelmente se olhe no espelho para se lembrar do quão infeliz vc se sente com sua aparência. deixe isso te consumir: ignore trabalhos acadêmicos, livros que vc um dia gostou de ler, et cetera.
repare minuciosamente em todos os estragos que vc causou no próprio corpo, e, amargure-se com o fato de que parece impossível parar.
depois, manuseie o estilete como uma femme fatale, desconectando fios desde a raiz.
odeie o resultado.
repita o procedimento em um ou dois meses, e pronto!
fácil, rápido, sem custo e com dor de cabeça.
domingo, 12 de janeiro de 2020
emanon é o nome do meu char em dark souls
dearest,
i feel certain that i am going mad again.
my hands become blades which tear me apart piece by piece.
i feel certain that i cannot endure the madness again
i am no longer tender
i am no longer pure
and i long no more for this place's alleged pleasures.
which is why i have to tell you: i dont think two people could be as happy as we have been.
but the madness is controlling me.
and i must keep plucking parts of me, pieces of me,
as if i was a hideous bloom that simply deserves to stop being.
a strand of my hair falls onto the floor,
along with the skin that i pick,
and the blood that i harvest.
i am so terribly sorry i could not get better for you. i know you needed it.
there is not much of me left, and,
soon,
hopefully,
i will be nothing but dust bunnies on the corners of empty houses.
i feel certain that i am going mad again.
my hands become blades which tear me apart piece by piece.
i feel certain that i cannot endure the madness again
i am no longer tender
i am no longer pure
and i long no more for this place's alleged pleasures.
which is why i have to tell you: i dont think two people could be as happy as we have been.
but the madness is controlling me.
and i must keep plucking parts of me, pieces of me,
as if i was a hideous bloom that simply deserves to stop being.
a strand of my hair falls onto the floor,
along with the skin that i pick,
and the blood that i harvest.
i am so terribly sorry i could not get better for you. i know you needed it.
there is not much of me left, and,
soon,
hopefully,
i will be nothing but dust bunnies on the corners of empty houses.
quinta-feira, 9 de janeiro de 2020
quente
nada esfriou
tudo permanece muito, muito quente
os intrusos, os agressores
não importa o clima
não importa o banho de água fria e o sofrido ventilador
não faz diferença.
nada esfriou.
tudo permanece muito, muito quente
os intrusos, os agressores
não importa o clima
não importa o banho de água fria e o sofrido ventilador
não faz diferença.
nada esfriou.
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