i swing between grotesquely perverted and completely disinterested in all things sexual without any rhyme or reason. it just happens and im stuck whichever way until things shift again.
Depression and anxiety can fuck you up so badly that you stop living for yourself. You’re just staying alive because your mother would never recover from losing you and your pet wouldn’t understand why you never came home.
The feelings afterwards always hurt the worst. Having only memories of someone who you can only dream of still walking the same life as you. You can only see them in brief moments of film stored inside instead.
Some nights while looking in the mirror or lens… taking in my appearance, mainly the piercings, these memories of years ago flash briefly. A moment where it’s like looking through a camera lens. I can see a young girl gauging her ears, hair up in a pony tail, makeup a mess.
She’s young and rebellious, talking to her audience while she expresses herself. She would turn and smile, a little blood on her ear while she’s explaining it’s normal and not to panic, to keep quiet so Oma doesn’t hear… Then it’s over. It’s like a film going dark.