
Droso
Born, survive, reproduce, die.
- Dec 23, 2024
- 156
I hate having a pussy. This thing is so wretched and the physical manifestation of the emotion 'disgust.' Might I even say evil. It feels like one of those monsters from Berserk— malformed and the epitome of ugliness.
It leaks and it weaps. It clenches onto nothing, in hopes of sucking something in, to wrap itself on. It's basically a second mouth full of hunger. And it drools whenever stimulated like an ignorant baby.
It gives me no pleasure. The only sensation it evokes is deep revulsion. Even if it is desperately trying to ask for penetration in the mechanical sense. My brain turns in upon itself whenever the notion of having something violate that disgusting hole crosses it.
It's a congenital wound that never healed because it is supposedly "natural." Something so natural should feel like it belongs to me. But it doesn't. It is a burden, a curse, a weakness.
I despise it.
— —
Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate
Disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust
Alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien
These emotions swirl in my head on repeat. Fuels me with rage. Makes me want to go berserker. But I'm weak, trapped in a tiny fragile body that is supposed to be mine. I can't even begin to release these feelings physically, that would require inhuman amounts of power.
People expect me to live like this. And all I can do is laugh. Laugh until I cry and then laugh again.
In August, that's when I will most likely die. When I'm finally out of the house. And I will no longer have to feel such anguish. No longer feel the pressure of my friends and family to act like everything is ok. No longer trapped in a body that was never mine to begin with.
But for now it plagues me. Every second of every day. Of every breath I take, every action I make, I am reminded of who I am and who I will never be. The only solace I find is deep in my sleep when nothing feels real. Or when I'm wasted on drugs. When my reality has changed and I no longer exist in a way that I am aware of. I only act as a vessel in these moments, deriving pleasure purely off instinct. Not a person. Just another organism.
Surviving and eventually dying.
It leaks and it weaps. It clenches onto nothing, in hopes of sucking something in, to wrap itself on. It's basically a second mouth full of hunger. And it drools whenever stimulated like an ignorant baby.
It gives me no pleasure. The only sensation it evokes is deep revulsion. Even if it is desperately trying to ask for penetration in the mechanical sense. My brain turns in upon itself whenever the notion of having something violate that disgusting hole crosses it.
It's a congenital wound that never healed because it is supposedly "natural." Something so natural should feel like it belongs to me. But it doesn't. It is a burden, a curse, a weakness.
I despise it.
— —
Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate
Disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust disgust
Alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien alien
These emotions swirl in my head on repeat. Fuels me with rage. Makes me want to go berserker. But I'm weak, trapped in a tiny fragile body that is supposed to be mine. I can't even begin to release these feelings physically, that would require inhuman amounts of power.
People expect me to live like this. And all I can do is laugh. Laugh until I cry and then laugh again.
In August, that's when I will most likely die. When I'm finally out of the house. And I will no longer have to feel such anguish. No longer feel the pressure of my friends and family to act like everything is ok. No longer trapped in a body that was never mine to begin with.
But for now it plagues me. Every second of every day. Of every breath I take, every action I make, I am reminded of who I am and who I will never be. The only solace I find is deep in my sleep when nothing feels real. Or when I'm wasted on drugs. When my reality has changed and I no longer exist in a way that I am aware of. I only act as a vessel in these moments, deriving pleasure purely off instinct. Not a person. Just another organism.
Surviving and eventually dying.