Clinically Brain Dead Yet Semi-Aware Slut Mage
I know it must be the killing time, unwillingly mine.
egg cell & scandinavian cave painting of the sun
Today I dropped to the floor on my knees and elbows and cried real tears, begging for God to send me a Woman. My cat had her head bent through her special wilderness-watching chair, cranked towards me, staring bewildered. I asked whether she had not seen me this down bad before, and I don’t think she has in the time I’ve had her. I have been yearning since before she was alive. It is because I dreamt of you last night, and now the chocolate on the stove is a woman I cant have. It is just about now that I would like to lose a finger.
David Lynch, I am thinking about that scene in Twin Peaks season 3 where Sarah Palmer takes off her face, and several violent appendages escape the void portal inside her and maul the misogynist sitting next to her. You loved women. You were a protector of women. They were people to you. I don’t want to feel this way, but I often think you were the last good man, and I cry because you are gone.
I am a ghost
I Will go walking when the World is open again
One last announcement- no sports bra let’s keep it bouncin’
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