i want to lie in a satin cream bed in a room with the window open so there’s a faint breeze coming through and sun but no light in my agent provocateur knickers in anticipation of a man and i need to know he’s nearly there but secretly i never want him to come because he will ruin my bubble so i think la femme d’argent should be playing and it’s like how you would imagine the words languish sensual pussy pussy pussy like a cat.
a numbing bubble of pretence and pedantry, being talked at, femininity in the confines of my bedroom only. je veux seulement oublier.
she has to create a persona because she is just a shell a human shell hollow so if there is no persona there is just nothing or maybe something but if so it is ugly she feels like patrick bateman except his persona is definable at least and she doesn’t even have that because there is no consistency in hers and it blurs with her emptiness so that sometimes she appears okay but really she is just acting though probably not well and she had gotten used to being defined by others but now she is deprived of even that so are there outlets but no because she is too blase she just doesn’t care about anything only people but that one person she has loved for five years has gone but she will do better she will she will she will because madness and flesh are no way to live.
my mummy <3
not so long ago, i used to find photos of death (i.e. the famous black dahlia murder photos, putrefaction etc) absolutely compelling and would trawl through blogs and websites such as rotten.com in an attempt to keeping shocking/disgusting myself. soon though this fascination turned into more of an obligation which i did not question until i realised that, although some of the crime ones were/are admittedly interesting, these photographs were in general extremely disturbing. of course that sounds obvious, but it was only when i started to feel miserable as a result of looking at them too frequently (and i was never that absorbed in this ‘hobby’ as to dedicate more than 20 minutes a day if that to it, i’m not the next jeff dahmer) that i began to understand the damage they can cause. a bloated woman with maggots and goo and god knows what else all over her is interesting but it makes you feel sick, and it’s not a sickness that you can walk away from easily because it becomes so imprinted in your mind; it might sound a bit dramatic for tumblr but i don’t think i’ll ever forget some of those photos, i would go as far as to say they actually scarred me. there are too many dogmatic dead-lovers, who patronise those of us who don’t want to think about death as though we’re naive idiots who imagine that we’ll fly straight to heaven. well, that’s certainly not the case, but never again am i going to go out of my way to watch a film like cannibal holocaust or google celebrities’ dead bodies. it just vile and unless you want to feel more nihilistic then a character from a bret easton ellis novel, just don’t do it.