
SexyIncél
🍭my lollipop brings the feminists to my candyshop
- Aug 16, 2022
- 1,481
I'd rate my desire to go at 8. I had an increasingly perfect life for a month. Then I made one little mistake & no one's cooperating with me to fix it. It's nothing near a life-threatening mistake. Perhaps it'll be utterly forgotten
I'm looking now at tickets to reunite with my shotgun
I'm not sad, nor depressed. I had a great time lately. I've felt things I only fantasized feeling. I've had days with no pain -- and much pleasure
It's just that... fuck this universe. I say that without emotion, just a simple observation. You can do things no one else does. You can push yourself to greater & greater things. You can be ridiculously perfect... for weeks. Preempting most mistakes; quickly fixing those few you make -- before anyone notices
But one goofy mistake gets through... then things snowball to your dismay
I have tried to bring pleasure. Now my mistake brought displeasure
I won't make a mistake when I end myself. I am very gifted at the art of self-assassination. When I fired my shotgun on the range, I hit targets dead center. Not the first shot; I noticed the gun's bias, then corrected for it. But later shots.
At point-blank range, in-the-mouth-out-the-skull, I'll receive my new crown.
I'm looking now at tickets to reunite with my shotgun
I'm not sad, nor depressed. I had a great time lately. I've felt things I only fantasized feeling. I've had days with no pain -- and much pleasure
It's just that... fuck this universe. I say that without emotion, just a simple observation. You can do things no one else does. You can push yourself to greater & greater things. You can be ridiculously perfect... for weeks. Preempting most mistakes; quickly fixing those few you make -- before anyone notices
But one goofy mistake gets through... then things snowball to your dismay
I have tried to bring pleasure. Now my mistake brought displeasure
I won't make a mistake when I end myself. I am very gifted at the art of self-assassination. When I fired my shotgun on the range, I hit targets dead center. Not the first shot; I noticed the gun's bias, then corrected for it. But later shots.
At point-blank range, in-the-mouth-out-the-skull, I'll receive my new crown.
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