well, crisis just becomes, "something that is not the least productive state for change." that might be more preferable to an audience, over stagnancy, over malaise, over an uncertain dissolution of purpose. skip to the end, and make it worse. is our time not limited enough for that.

crisis, preventable crisis, even. "fear for your life," really in a way that is "fear for a foundational belief in yourself." is merely...

it was not your fault, you can still survive. it would be easier on everyone's conscious that way, right. something bright comes out of it and all of that shit. has that ever happened

there are always pockets of december's stories that have had more time to build their altars, it may only be ours that we fully took the time to ruin

we are a doll that has never been played with, we are a doll that by even brushing against the nature of play, we transform into something different. the light will never properly shine on me. no vector allows this. this shadow will shine another light upon the light, forever.

we only get out of this by forgetting myself. we are here to be forgotten, this thing called me is a dismembered corpse for decomposition into loam. there is nothing else that understands more an ❌on the head.

forced animation. that is never her. she died, long ago. then died, then died, then was killed. she is blind to everything but death. she prays to eternal sleep knowing it is her only lover. she tears her eyes out, one more second of having sight is not worth living to see whatever bliss might be

you're talking to a corpse. you decided to collect a corpse. it can only be satisfied this way. in giving it any sort of animation you manifest her into a powerfully stagnant misery

the trick of the light that forged our truly soft things. we love this trick, we will always choose to be fooled. we will not be killed in that way again. why do you not choose to be fooled? i know you can recognize all of the outcomes.

it's easier to talk to something when you can only pity it, right? it's funny that i thought any interaction could be maintained over any other premise. the only things in this entire world are blind idolatry and self-flagellation

we could be miserable forever. would that be sweet? would that be softness? is that what has value? perhaps if i put my teeth back in and start biting my face and claws out we'll be more liked again