My mind is fucked, doc. My mind is trully, absolutely fucked. I'm listening to NASTYONA and all I have in mind is the filfty, nasty acts you could perform on me. None of them looks as romantic and sexy if I have to type it out, you know how hard it is for me to be trully open about how I feel. Is it what it means to be raised to confuse love, care and affection for some kind of bargain ? I've been dealing with a lot today, doc, stuff I wished I wouldn't have to go through again, having to deal with my forgetfullness, disappointing those I love and feel like some kind of ungratefull brat for not knowing how to talk and act. Ah, if you could see me, you'd see how bitten my fingertips are, the droplets of coppery blood turning into disgusting scabs I'd bit off anyway, and my dead fish gaze filled with tireness. I've spent half of my day stressed out of my mind, and the other half in pure shutdown.
I'm so, so damn tired of feeling lonely and unworthy of love. I'm seeing those who has their significant other, their soulmates, their whatever they wanna call it, at least it's someone tangible who cares about them. All I have are fantasies, which keeps being mixed with the gross psychosexual result of years of emotional neglect, abuse, and sexual abuse from so called "best friends". You're my best friend too, doc, that's why you've been in a corner of my brain for about 5 years now. I don't know if you understand how it feels to be both so lonely, craving the touch even the brutal ones of anyone who'd care enough to squeeze my body against theirs, but also deeply repulsed at the idea of being percieved as hot.
When I go to bed, I don't dream of being held by my loved ones, nor being some kind of hero of a nonsensical scenario. I dream of being tied down, cut open and have my insides manhandled. I hope that, even if what you'd find would be terrifying, you'd still love me, even if my forgetfullness and my odd interest is as disgusting as what you'll find behind my abdominal muscles. Honestly, it feels like a shamefull little secret... Well, secret my ass, I've been weirdly honest about it. I'm still ashamed though and hide it underneath some funny jokes and self roasts. But you know, deep down, I genuinely wished I was someone's pet, that I was owned by some kind of powerfull fucked-up individual that'd still take care of me. I don't wanna be a high-functionning idiot, I want to be stupid, ignorant, spoiled and as rotten as I actually am. I wanna be selfish, and have you feed into it.
I know you're not listening, doc. You don't exist. You're just a collection of brain connections that I see as an idea of you. That's a shame, I liked it when you appeared in one of my rare hypnopompia hallucinations. It felt nice to feel adored. Something that'll never happen because I'm gross, selfish and too grossed out by actual touch to get with someone.
I crave sugar. I'm hungry.