#tw dark room

[borzoisinsanityfiles]

I did say I might do a fukouna girl anim but hopefully this edit??? slideshow??? thing will suffice

silver dog kid (mei-mei) is green dog thing (trixin/pip pierre)'s bio son and red fox lady (kathleen) is green dog thing (trixin/pip pierre)'s bio mum for context

steve and coco reveal woooo

[die-rosastrasse]

I spent all day cleaning and rearranging my room, time for tea and cozy journaling 🖤

[glendover]

I might have made the coolest pin for my backpack 🫡

[furiousgoldfish]

I wrote a very pained, depressive and dark post, even maybe too dark for this blog, but I ultimately decided to publish it, just because this pain has always been invisible in me, and I want to be able to say something. If you're going to read it, there's a lot of mention of death and contemplation of suicide in it, and a lot of painful emotion. Maybe someone will resonate with it and find words to describe their own pain. I also want to note that even though every word of it is true, I am most of the time completely dissociated from this, I'm not actively thinking it, and it came out now because my parents are actively trying to find me and disrupting the life I've tried to make for myself.

What my parents did to me is worse than death, they erased me. When I escaped I didn't know who I was, I had no hope to survive, I didn't think I was worth anything, I felt ashamed to even exist. I was suicidal, i thought I'd be dead within a month even if I don't do it myself. I didn't think I had it in me to survive, to be alive, to be anything. I was a less than a ghost, I didn't even have memories to remember of who I once was because there was no warm memories, only violence, blame, guilt, shame, pain, terror. I was supposed to be a person, and they put me in a state where I knew nothing about being a person, only property and a target, it was my entire life. I was told I deserved this, I was a monster, there was never anything else that is correct to do to me, but hurt me. I thought it was my job to be endlessly harmed. They knew I was suicidal and didn't stop. The only reason I didn't kill myself was the dissociative disorder that functioned like a suicide prevention measure, I physically could not have done it because I have been split into pieces and one of the pieces prevented me from doing it. I would have died otherwise.

What would a quick violent death be compared to this? A fucking blessing. I was slowly tortured until I was willing to kill myself in order to end it. They didn't want to dirty their hands with my murder, they planned on torturing me until I did it to myself. I had an intense drive to survive despite everything, and even that was getting erased. My basic instincts were being erased by the amount of pain I was in. My personality was gone, I didn't even have a personality, it was all overwhelmed by pain and desperation to both survive and end it all, I walked trough life looking death in the face the entire time, it felt so close, so close to me, like it would claim me any second, but I had to stay stoic, calm, me staring down death had to be invisible, I couldn't let it show. It shouldn't have mattered to anyone what I was experiencing. I was torn between life and death, stuck in constant anticipation of it and it couldn't have mattered.

Take a person, any person, imagine them having a life, family, friends, interests, hobbies, desires, dreams, loved ones, support, community. Now imagine that same person isolated, everything stripped away from them, and them being hurt until they can no longer remember anything they wanted to live for. Even their basic instinct to survive is stripped frm them as pain is too large for them to be able to sustain themselves, there's no longer anything in this person's life worth living for, nothing they remember about who they were, no warm thought they can think about themselves, and they're repeatedly told they deserve this, they've wanted this. Until there's nothing of them left.

That was me, but from the start. I didn't get to experience having a life, family, loved ones, interests, dreams, community, or any of that first, I didn't get to know how it was to have any of that! From the very start it was pain and being told that this is all there is, and that I'm stupid for ever thinking there would be anything more to life, that it is in fact, only terror and death and I'm a weakling for not taking it better, everyone else is dealing with this just fine. Shame and guilt were the only traits I could have, I didn't know anything further about me. Nobody knew me because nobody saw me being abused. Nobody could know I was worthless, it had to be my private hell. I would have to live only to the point where it was decided that it was enough and I had to die, or until the point where I couldn't take it anymore and take my own life, even though I so strongly didn't want to, even that basic desire was tempered with and overwritten by pain.

Who would want a life like that? Life of not only being aware that nobody cares about you, but everyone around you is willing to inflict pain on you until you wish to die, but can't. Where crying and screaming is forbidden even when you can't breathe from the amount of pain you're in; you're not even allowed to cry out. You fight with yourself every day on how badly you want to die and why you can't, and it doesn't help, you get lost in magical thinking in order to escape from the hell you're in, but you're brutally reminded of it every time you interact with anyone, when they find you hiding under the bed and dreaming. You don't even know that you're supposed to have loved ones, be safe, be unharmed, that life is supposed to be different, that you're not alive only to be a target, that you're worth anything. You don't even know that you're supposed to have more freedom in life than to choose the manner and time of your death, this is all that's dealt to you. And now, live, see how far you can get before you die. Would anyone choose that? Would anyone decide to be born into a life like that? Wouldn't you choose not to exist at all rather than be put trough that? To be erased and then having to keep on living while thinking you in fact, deserve death, and should do it yourself, and you know if you do die, it won't matter, just like your life didn't? Because people around you regularly nearly kill you and then laugh about it like it was a funny joke? They humiliate you for how ugly you look close to death? You're scared that your last moment will be humiliation for how unseemly your corpse looks and you're hoping you'd be able to die alone, to not be berated as you're dying.

Death is nothing to me compared to this. Waiting to die is worse than death. Endless anticipation of pain is worse than death. Having everything about you erased by pain is worse. Not knowing anything about yourself except that you are incredibly shameful existence and that you need to feel guilty all of the time, is worse. Watching people around you receive care and warmth while you're stuck watching death in the face silently, pretending it's not happening, and trying to not have anyone's attention on yourself because someone noticing means more pain, more shame and guilt. It's worse. Kill me any fucking day. But this will always be worse. Every time I face the reality of my life I wish I had died in the womb, at childbirth, I wish I had died when I was 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, 12, any time before I experienced all this. It would have been so much less pain. It would have been so much easier on me.

And I've already given up on ever having a place in anyone's heart, because at this point, I don't have it in me to make people love me. I have nothing about me that is other people find worth caring for, I made peace with it. There will be no loved ones, and thats fine. But at least then I should get to live my life alone the way I want it. I should find joy in being who I found I am, and doing what I want to do. I should get to do things that give me a little bit of pleasure and enjoyment, and I should be safe, and death should no longer come knocking at my door, staring me down like I owe it something. If I can't even have that, then to hell with everything. What is the fucking point of anything if all my life is a continued slow torture until I can no longer bear it. I have nobody to bear it for, nobody would be harmed by my death. But I also don't deserve to die, because I want to live, and this should be mine. Who the fuck dares to try and take this away from me again. I want to fucking explode. If I have to make my own justice then how do I do it. I literally just want to live. And I see other people having at least that much secured for them. Why can't I at least have that much. I am seriously asking for the bare fucking minimum.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was in a dark room tied to a chair in front of a TV and on the TV was a looping gif of a box spinning on the vertical axis and there was music playing in the background (it was Majesty by Apashe - the instrumental).

[mumpsetc]

I Clung To You in Hopes We'd Both Drown

[humming-fly]

I've been vicariously reveling in @post-it-notes7's recent foray into their version of dark meta knight's No Good Very Bad Day, and naturally have had a shitpost bouncing around in my head the Entire time

[halstar-the-clown]

Something doesn’t seem right, now does it… But who cares? He’s right there. Go to him.

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Redraw of an older piece I made that STILL gets noticed somehow. I meant to have this out sooner but I got caught up in work. Anyway, here’s a comparison with the original on the left.

[celestialpoems]

I find ways to disappear, to remove myself from this life.

I exist, but I am not living.

[ourson-guimauve]

And it's not mine

[borzoisinsanityfiles]

fukouna girl inspired thing, might make an anim ver to this later

they (sun and earth) are so dead

murder nepotism dog...

[running-with-kn1ves]

Thinking thoughts of a 'red room' yandere on the dark web... they have every torture device imaginable but when it comes to you in that dirty metal chair, with that bloodied sack over your head, they cant help but want to tease you, watch as you sob in fear without realizing that theyd never truly carry out a punishment as harsh as they do for most of their victims. Dragging the flat and cold metal of a knife over your stomach is enough to get them and their viewers going. Theyve had thoughts of dragging you to gorey ruin just like most of those who find themselves in that room, but they cant bring themselves to do it, for one twisted reason or another.

[vampiricbisexuality]

I hate cops

[icespur]

Singular Persona 5 Incorrect Quotes #17

Cognitive Akechi with a gun to real Akechi's head: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven?

Akechi: Bold of you to assume I'll go to Heaven.

[sugarsuguru]

tw: yandere, stalking

something about getou luring you back home. you've run away from him for so long and he's tired of letting you believe that you had any freedom from him at all. you think you finally managed to escape him but he's been keeping an eye on you the entire time. stands outside your window at night and watches you get ready for bed. watches you comb your hair in the mirror, watches you rub lotion into your face and neck. nearly stumbles when you slide your robe off. he's bitten those collarbones, he's sucked on the pillowy flesh of your breasts, marked your arms your shoulders your wrists. he's held you in his arms and pressed kisses to the nape of your neck. fucked you so hard it hurts to move so you're left dependent on him for days after. he hides behind a tree as you move to the window and finally shut the curtains, leaving the window cracked open. he smiles at that, making a pleased sound—of course he'll have to scold you about that later. you should know better than to leave the windows open. so defenseless so vulnerable. what if someone had been standing in the forest in front of your house, hiding behind the bushes when they see movement in your window, palming their hardening dick when you sit at your vanity getting ready for bed, waiting for a lapse in judgment, for an unlocked door, for a crack in the window...

[dizzybizz]

my best friend michael