A New Chrysalis is Forming... or not.
a desperate, selfish, and grotesque reality dump
i cant post my writing and model pictures of reality on the typical s-media platforms anymore. its only reminds me of the omnipresent emptiness in both the external world where my voice reaches no one, and interal one where i cannot escape them for even a moment. here at least in a place that is truly beyond the illusionary world i can be as selfishly genuine as required without having to be perceived, reflected, blurred. mm im also quickly noticing it's allowing me to talk with the other mes and mes that arnt mes with a lot more effeciency even across time. although who knows how this translates to anyone elses world or if this is any good for ours but i can do this without the idea of being selfish in front of people stopping my every move. i can spill directly onto this page.
im not sure whats going on with me lately, i keep feeling as if something is slipping even further away from me and its not control that is looong gone now. its like im on the edge of a great precipice into yet another deeper fall into this hellish path that has been layed out for us. im desperately trying to hold onto my conciousness as i watch myself look ever the edge wanting to descend all too eagerly. i want it far too much. i want to bleed all over someone right now, its something i think that constantly but i cant for we know it will only remind us how much it hurts for all of its emptiness. oh god somethings been dripping in my head, the ceaseless dripping of my heart from years ago has begun to echo in my head and rip through my vessel.
i cant stop filling my brain with as many morbid and grotesque tales i can get my hands on about disturbed women who have wanted to kill others and/or themselves. of course ive always loved forensics since i was a child, and i went to college a single semester for it even though that went horribly. what the problem is though is that im not doing this in a very "this case shocked or interested me" way the easiest way to express how far it feels like this is going to me in language would be: i cant stop obssesing over the details. things like personal beleifs, delusions, favorite music, and especially writing left behind are thought about on a constant basis. YEAH well you dont have to be a psychatrist to see why we seem to be writing this but i must implore with quite a degree of certainity that even though it disgusts me and i am ashamed to admit it, its genuinely all me. it really does make me feel deserved of all this hell when these people whose words i cant stop obssesing over were just as misguided in who they beleived in. its so easy for me to reason with myself that it isnt bad how much sol pais obssess me but it shouldnt be. im out of my fucking mind theres no reasoning out of that gez and you think you stand for any kind of justice! all you have in common with them is just how selfish you are and wish to become! let me also say this especially for any feds im no danger to anyones life coming to an end. no matter how much i think about it i still dont think id ever be able to take someone else world away, i just cant think of it without negativity of all kinds and when i hear these murder cases it does make me cry quite routinely when i hear victim ages and family accounts. while i am and always have been a killer without a doubt, i do not mean that in any sort of typical defintion, most things i say are only language objects and logic tools to aide and encode understanding, they must both be read into and not read too far into. i wish i could stop killing but if i don't kill them all soon its going to be me and thats what truly scares me. the inevitablity of the ending of this life being a suicide comes in waves of fear but the despair of not making it to the call before that has this feeling in my chest always aching, dripping then starting to spill.
"Once I have known her I must die." but not yet...
