all guts, no glory

hey sorry for being so snappish earlier i was in a bad mood. and im still in a bad mood so can you fuck off

you only love me for my brainwashing spores that make everyone love me. hmph

it’s been almost a month since i watched lake mungo for the first time but i can’t stop thinking about it. you’re a teenage girl. you feel invisible. someone is hurting you and nobody knows. when you think of your mother, she’s looking straight through you. your friends don’t see you, your boyfriend doesn’t see you, your family doesn’t see you. you feel like something bad is going to happen to you. like something bad has happened, but it hasn’t reached you yet. you’re not ready. you see your own dead body, your own future coming for you, and you aren’t ready. you’re terrified and months pass and nobody notices. you have nightmares and you stand above your mother’s bed wanting comfort but you can’t ask for it. you don’t want to die, but you do. so you come back. you walk the halls of your home, you scream and shout. and for a moment, they see you! but then it passes. and your brother is creating your ghost himself, even though you’re right there. he edits your ghost into a picture where you already sit in the corner, begging to be seen. and there is a grown man in your bedroom digging through your things, and your mother is walking into other people’s houses and trying on their lives. your father only hears you screaming at him to go away. you're begging someone to see you. you're standing over your mother's bed still, but she won't open her eyes. and then they find out what you saw, they see it too, but instead of caring, they find peace. they come home and they say the house feels settled. they think you're gone. but you're still there, and you're still screaming! they decide they can leave. they pack up your things and leave the room. you're still there. you stand in the window watching them leave. they move on. you can't. after all of this, they still don't see you. they will never see you again. jesus christ.

an argument can be foreplay if you do it right

in the club begging strangers for forgiveness and proving incapable of articulating what for when asked