boristhebelligerent

boristhebelligerent

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the idealists are blind to the festering sickness that dwells silently within their hopes, destined to corrupt them with uncontrolled brutality.

Advice are useless. They are lies of amateurs who have little to no brain cells at all of how hard and painfully unbelievable it is to be a writer.

Curiosity is convinced like any human being would be. It is convinced that it is unsure, that it must dare, take chance and hope. It is also convinced that its also unsure and quite stupid for its own worth. Its convinced of its own weaknesses.

couch

it's a trap, this couch. With no promises and obligations to set you on edge. What will you do once it has caught you? I doubt you'd do much, I doubt you'd be able to move at all. You're a corpse waiting to be buried six feet times ten under. It's unbecoming of a couch to do anything else.

Celebrate the grip of his fist against your neck and the clench of your things around his waist. Celebrate the breath that you share and the moans and whimpers that fog your ears. Celebrate the sex. Celebrate the climax. Celebrate human nature and instinct.

You are the distinct average of an average world that never ceases to not-amaze you. You have little to hope, very little to expect from yourself. What of others then?

rally

Humans rally like animals and monsters, rallying for what? They're for hate and chaos, greed and lust for power. They have heights below to fill just right. It's enough,

trade

It was immensely easy to trade away my responsibilities. I'm afraid I must reveal the prolonged uncovered truth; I feel no obligation towards anyone. I find each and every human being a pest to be rid of.

Life, the distinguished guest of honor praised by all things unpleasant, horrid, despicable, foul, merciless, disastrous, chaotic and heartless.

Teeth clipped my eyes. Fangs clipped my nose. False innocence clipped freedom.

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writing since 2011 · 42 entries · 42 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Lora showed up.

7longest streak

42days written

0.5entries / week

on this day 15 years ago

Lora wrote about transport
“Upon transport, the souls glared down the bodies flushed against one another; a crowd of pale, lifeless, skin and rotting flesh; blood drained, face blank. They shrugged haughtily, uncaring. Fuck the…”

the words Lora reaches for

eyesskinagainstfacehumanone'scelebratepepperconvincedlongerearsgraduallyoverpoweringdesirepurebliss