Not Me Yapping To My Audience Of 0 People

AHHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBHHHHHHHHDHEHEWNE I hate hate HATE when I'm rereading a passage that I wrote and I think of something that I really REALLY should've added but DIDN'T my brain is my #1 adversary istfg

a herd of dairy cow isopods grazing the great green meadow 🌱

Self harm is really just self-bdsm. People I’m not depressed, I’m just kinky

I just realized that vi is wearing claggor's goggles in her enforcer redesign what

fuck it I’m drunk. The points being articulated in TBK are literally incoherent! Every single idea established is then torn down--- either parodied, deconstructed, inverted, or paralelled at some other point, to such a degree that it turns into idealogical and philosophical soup. "Pro and Contra", as is stated. The ending is bleak, underwhelming, and ineffectual! Alyosha's speech at the end is a failure. He is trying SO hard to follow the doctrine that Father Zossima gave him, that he is needed in the world, he is trying so hard to say the right thing to these poor children but his words pale in comparison to the great suffering that has transpired and will continue to transpire ceaselessly. These children then hear his words and exalt him and the Karamazov family name, that stands for all that is base and sick in the world. Ivan is still sick. His ideology and intellect, all he is and all he has, has failed him. He has a very long reckoning yet to come. Dmitry is still imprisoned and in purgatory. Absolutely everyone has completely failed to acknowledge that Smerdyakov was a human being and their family member, despite the entire idea being repeated, ad nauseum, that we are ALL meant to be "servants to our servants and servants to all men" and our brothers keepers. Despite or even because of all of this, the book is extraordinary. Though he had ideas that any particular reader may disagree with, this incoherence cannot be an accident. Dostoevsky can convey a point to exactness, in all it's complexity, to a degree that rivals any author who has ever lived. Then I am reminded that this was not even meant to be THE Book, this was only ever the PRELUDE to THE Book. This was all just the set up for something. And the payoff of whatever was supposed to be "The Life of a Great Sinner" was robbed from us by his death! And so Dostoevsky himself departs, and takes all the answers with him, into the great mystery. And we are left only with the endless questions, the ineffectual answers, the contradictions, the speculations, and the mystery. Exactly as we are in regards to the questions and ideas posed by all of religion itself. It's the kind of allegory that would be much too on the nose if you tried to put it into a film or a story.

arousal! repulsion! arousal! repulsion! arousal! repulsion! arousal! repulsion!

Me when… me when… the identity is horror. Who are you? Can you be replicated? Is that replication you? If someone looks just like you, acts like you and is interpreted by others as you, are they you? Do your thoughts count for anything? If everything you actually think stays in your head and never comes out then you die do people grieve you? Do you respond to your name or to any name?

At the willow tree, straight up "hanging it" . And by "it", haha, well. Let's justr say. Myself

I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. I need to be the most beautiful girl someone's ever seen I need to be brought flowers on dates I need to cry into someone's arms and I need to be held through the storm until the tears blow over I need to be seen and heard and treasured I need to be touched I need to be cradled I need to be kissed and worshipped and romanced and sexualized I need someone to kill for me and set the world on fire to keep me warm and offer to do the dishes for me despite my insistence I need someone to bring me tea and ibuprofen when I'm on my period I need someone to mourn and rage and weep and be weak with me I need to be ineffably valued I need someone to listen and understand or try to understand even if they can't I need to be someone's one and only even through the worst of the worst and the lowest of lows I need someone to tell me stories to take me away from the horrors I need someone to love me and love me and love me and love me even though they don't have to. SOMEONE PLEASE JUST FALL IN LOVE WITH ME