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idek, some sort of vent.
god, i wonder what i look like in your mind. it surely won’t match up to me, right?
this body is not me. and i hate looking in the mirror and seeing that.
i don’t have a fucking cunt, of all things. i don’t have tits. i don’t have sinewy arms and soft hands.
the person in the mirror is not me.
will you still like me, even if i don’t match up to your expectations?
shoutout to my headmates! specifically the anonymous one who’s actively convincing me that our dr pepper is spiked with cough syrup.
why does it have an aftertaste like that.
filthy, gross, disgusting mutt. posting on tumblr as if they’ll see, praying they’ll tell you what to do? pathetic. and stupid, if you think about it.
you are not a good dog.
breakfast? what’s that?
( this is a joke, i had two cookies and a dr pepper for breakfast. )
force me to tell you my fears.
i prefer to check up on people. it makes me feel good when everyone else feels good!
i’m scared that if i end it all, no one will notice. and everyone who does notice will simply move on.
i like when people remember the small things about me! it makes me feel special.
no one knows what my favorite color is.
i like to think that everybody is a friend!
i get so, so deeply fearful when i’m unliked.
please, don’t bother reading. it’s just another tw’d vent post. what’s the point.
god, i’m useless.
what kind of captain thinks like this? what kind of captain puts himself first? i’m pathetic.
i just want to be good for someone. i just want to be someone’s first choice, their favorite.
i don’t want to be a leftover. i don’t want to be left behind.
i don’t want to be alone again.
i can’t be alone again.
my thighs hurt so much. my head and fingers and toes are throbbing, probably from blood loss. i can’t keep doing this to myself.
i can’t keep running from my problems.
i’m needy. i’m disgusting. i’m useless.
i cry when you leave me alone for too long.
i cry when you praise me, because i don’t deserve it.
i cry when you degrade me, because i feel useless.
i’m such a stupid fucking mutt.
i am never going to be good enough.
you’re going to leave like everyone else.
whether it be because you got bored, or because i upset you, or because you realize i’m just not worth it,
you’re going to leave.
and i’m not ready for you to go just yet…
tw. you know the drill.
i’m nothing but a devoted mutt. a dirty, cheap whore. a disgusting, vile being that exists only for the pleasure of others.
i need someone to adore, someone to hurt me and love me, all at the same time. without a special person, a favorite person, i’m useless.
what good is a useless mutt?
i’m awful. no one will ever need me like i need them. i’m too damn needy…i cry when i get degraded too harshly, and when i get praised because i don’t deserve kind words ever, and when you leave me alone too long.
no one will ever need me like i need them.
tw.
my skin is scrubbed raw and red. my head is pounding and i’m shaking feebly. as i run the water, washing the sink out, watching red and clear mix and swirl down the drain, and as i wipe the spit from my lips, flushing the toilet and watching nothing but bile swirl down it’s own respective drain, i slump agains the wall.
is this really where i’ve gotten myself in life?
a scalding hot shower, the warmth pelting my raw skin, sounds appropriate for not being able to handle an entire hour.
the swirl of reddish pink down the drain makes me reminisce on my better days.
it was so much easier when we all wore jumpsuits on the tulpar.
i’m going to burn in hell. and i’ll take nothing but the sweet memories of you with me.
this is turning into a vent blog, and i hate it. i’m supposed to stay happy, and blissful, and the one people can depend on.
i’m a sorry excuse for a captain.
it’s my account and i can do what i want with it. TW.
the taste of copper in my own mouth is overwhelming.
what i wouldn’t give to live normally. live without the consistent craving of the intimacy and abuse cocktail.
i want to be hurt just as i want to be loved.
the difference is, i deserve to be hurt.
and it pains me, knowing that i could just as easily be thrown away. i’m nothing special. i know that. we can pretend that i am all we want, but i know.
i know that, if i were being auctioned off, no one would try. “next up, it’s captain grant curly! starting of at a hundred, anyone?….anyone?….”
i know. i know i’m damaged beyond repair, i know i’m worthless. everything is so heavy right now, and that’s quite alright. i was made to carry burdens. the weight of holding everyone’s secrets weigh me down, and as i fall behind, the growing ache in my chest throbs.
what i wouldn’t give to lay my head down in your lap, let your fingers run through my hair, and let the world go quiet. even then, i wouldn’t be worth a penny. but maybe, just maybe, i would bring you the barest hint of happiness.
i need to clean my room. i need to pack my bag. i need to do my laundry. i’ve been living here for almost two werks, and i barely packed enough clothes to last me three days.
what i really need to do is shut up. because no one gives a damn. i keep telling myself, “get it together, grant.” and then i continue messing things up. i need to be guided.
i need to eat. i can’t remember the last time i ate.