It is patently ridiculous that I am expected to go around life without a divine-feeling presence riding in the back of my head. With this body, that craves constant stimulation, and a brain that drives itself into ditches and dead-ends? With this dependent obsession for every well-spoken girl that treats me nice? Everyone went and stripped all the roles for such a girl out of the world, and here I am. Medication this DBT that but you're not allowed to visibly obviously be the carrier for some malevolent Other in, like, conversation one. Ridiculous.
With all the wretched roiling ocean of "god I want there to be some transcendant excitement in my life", "god I wish it meant something", "god, I want...." inside me? Me? The dollgirl, the marionette, the hollow, me? The girl so desperate for it that you can put her in front of a pretty lights and colours screen, lean over maternally, and whisper into her ear about how it's okay, it's okay, it's okay to be this attached, it's okay to let girls mentor you and tug you around, it's okay... and it'll just work? The easiest girl to force your way into in the world? ive still got that tulpamancy dog in me if we're being 100% completly fucking real. corners in my brain I can work you into if you just give me a license. every day is a failed potential investment in our beautiful future together. find me.
