glitter tears

I knew a rapist who was an absolute ride-or-die friend to his gamer bros. Like, give the last dollar from his pocket to a friend who got a flat tire, and then turn around and go rape a Freshman that evening.

I knew a vicious child abuser who wept like a baby when her dog died.

The nastiest human being on the planet nevertheless feels obscurely melancholy sometimes, or has high spirits when they step out doors on the first warm day of spring, or has opinions on their favorite TV show and which side the toilet paper should hang on and whether or not the room should be cold or warm when you go to sleep.

We're all still just people. Complex, with fully-realized interior worlds.

None of that will save you from becoming a monster, if you decide to do monstrous things.

Now, in my mind, amnesia meant everything sort of went black and you’d come to days later without a clue of what had happened or where you were. And while, that absolutely can be the case for some— it wasn’t for me.

Amnesia for me is much more complex. The gaps of memory I loose are patched together by the things that I do remember. My mind may omit half the day, but because I can remember the other half, it doesn’t feel as if I’ve lost any time truly. My mind worked overtime to hide how much time I was loosing, simply because if I knew, I don’t think the past version of myself would’ve handled it very well. </3