ocd is literally just having a guy in your head that torments you with false prophecies & visions

when kafka said ‘you wouldn’t believe the kind of person I could become if you wanted it’ and when brontë said ‘if you ever looked at me with what I know is in you, I would be your slave’ and when Sartre said ‘if I’ve got to suffer it may as well be at your hands’

I'm like if Franz Kafka was a teenage girl in her 20s

the feminine, the masculine, the artistic urge to stare at the paintings until they make you hallucinate, to read poems until they seep inside your soul, to write such words that hold the power to shatter a person's heart and fill the void at the same time.

i hope this email gives you acute radiation sickness. attached is a png of a cartoon toxic waste bin spilling for extra effect

if i was sisyphus id eat a bit of dirt off the slope every time on my way up until the slope is no longer steep enough for the boulder to roll down. it would be end of suffering in 47 days

if i was atlas id shake the sky up and down to make the laminated wobble sound worldwide every day and piss zeus off enough to kill me or himself

no idea how id cope being prometheus. he died so we can light joints i wish him the best

Image text: "You are allowed to disagree with people. That doesn't make you unlovable or bad."