MISSILE

you literally have to unironically listen to some shit like party rock anthem so you don’t kill yourself

i love turning off lights. no need for all that

Thinking about the impersonal nature of violence, rough hands and nameless uniforms, dragging and grasping at limbs, pushing, shoving, pinning down, striking with fists and batons and boots…

Faces concealed by balaclavas or gas masks, eye contact denied by tinted reflective lenses. Not an inch of skin showing under that dark tactical gear, hiding an inhuman evil. Gloves with armored knuckles knock teeth out of your mouth. Elbow pads slam into your gut when you try to squirm from the last bone-shattering impact. Your captors stare inquisitively through unblinking reflective visors before hurting you again. No way to fight back against the cruel armored figures.

my mp3 player is my friend she would never show me an advertisement

hungry for the cream cheese bagel table

the forest rape trip is separate from the forest mushroom identification trip ok we can’t make this mistake again

[hoping you'll pin me to the ground and fuck me into the dirt] do you wanna go play outside