its so hard . to exist knowing that just by existing . u are meat to the rabid dog sitting next to you on the train. interviewing u for a job. the professor who sees u as rotted but chews u out anyway. ur father who wants to keep you in a freezer. u are to be consumed. again and again and again. until u die. then the desperate dig up your bones in the dead of winter to gnaw on. they chew on your memory turning u into something unrecognizable. a meal that never was. you cannot satisfy them even in death. u cannot own your flesh and bones and name even in death.
u let them chew on you occasionally just to feel something with love being impossible against an expiry date. you let them so you can't get upset when they start nibbling too close to the vital stuff and creating scars that won't heal over, except for when u do. then they act like they weren't salivating in anticipation to begin with, they lash out as they've been left out of a meal they've already planned. you are now a reminder of their infinite and indiscriminate hunger. unable to cope with misplaced shame in their need, they try to spin it that not only is being mauled your divine purpose, you should be so lucky. you are evil for wanting to keep your flesh to yourself when there are hungry dogs all around you begging, hunting, plotting and scheming for scraps.
this has Andrea Dworkin’s Mercy (1990) energy written all over… posting this on here once again:
(…) you’ve been mowed down inside, slaughtered inside, a genocide happened in you, but you don't get to die. You're not God's son, you're His daughter, and He leaves you there nailed because you're some stupid piece of shit who loved someone and you will be there forever, in some bed somewhere for the rest of your life and He will make it a long time - He will make you get old, and (…) there will be someone climbing on you and getting in you and God your Father will watch; even when you're old He'll watch.
