RE: Insult yourself!
January 13, 2015 at 5:58 am
(This post was last modified: January 13, 2015 at 6:03 am by Violet.)
(January 13, 2015 at 5:12 am)robvalue Wrote: It seems I am so utterly dim witted to have not only put this in the wrong category, but to have failed to realize there was such a category.
Feel free to move my post if you wish, while I beat myself for my failings with a hammer.
Excellent, then let's get started on a proper pain party...
...
Look at me go, doing it again. You'd think that after 5 years of this, I'd be done with it... but I'm apparently a glutton for self-flagellation. I could get really real really quick... but that'd accomplish about as much as anything I ever do affects: nothing. So, what's the worth of this insult: there's really nothing to do it for... after all, I'm just pretend in the end.
Pretend? Ahahhhahahaha... so, all those people you killed yesterday, Alice... were they all pretend, just like you? You had such good fun, Alice dear... murdering helpless people like they were mere insects. Their screams, the horror they suffered... 'it was all pretend', right? Is that what you're hoping for...?
... But that smile was real, wasn't it, dearie...? That electric thrill, the adrenaline... the oxytocin... the dopamine... those were real, weren't they, "Alice"? You're real alright... you're a real monster... and a real killer... whom really is as just toothless and gutless as a fucking leech. Why are you even so afraid of yourself...? You're too pathetic of a creature to do anything in the first place.
You can't even get off your ass... and look what you managed: your girlfriend is crying. Sobbing. Look at you... neglecting her when she needs you. You really did that, you sunken piece of shit... all you had to do was let your turd self float to the surface, basking but a moment in the sun... and everything around you has fallen apart. You did that, "Alice"... the only thing you accomplish by existing is pain... why not revel in it? Nobody's ever going to apologize for hurting you, girl... You're too sick to warrant that... don't you know that you're never going to get better?
Still separating 'you' and 'me'...? Hahah... and here I'd thought you'd gotten past that... we're the same, and you know it... I AM YOU. All the agony I inflict pleases you, doesn't it...? You crave it... but just like all your hopes of being a good little innocent girl: you're never going to have it... you're simply too pitiful. You can't even kill yourself... what good are you, anyway? Why are you even here, Slag? Get a fucking mirror, bitch, and look at yourself... you pretend you've attained some kind of fucking godhood... but you're just scared shitless of yourself... a shame indeed given that you are MADE OF SHIT!
I know my lot, whore... here, let me have control... and I'll end this worthless life for you. I don't want to exist in you any more than you want to exist. I'm disgusting... because you're revolting. I'm terrifying... because you're horrifying. I'm a bitter old shew... because you're venomous bitch. Go cut yourself, coward... HAH-as if you'd have the balls. But then... you never did make a very good son, did you, "Alice"?
You're a nightmare to yourself. There was never a Dreamer... you are alone and you are forgotten... and you deserve to be... you worthless. Useless. Pathetic. Trash! Your delusional fantasy that it'll get better is the very reason you're stuck shoveling your shit self. You're going to need a bigger fucking shovel, you fat whore. Go cry your titless ass a fucking river of blood! God, I'm so fucking done talking to this stupid slut... stop being needy, oh look at you whine... 'but it's really hard'-Fucking toughen up, Buttercup!
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Not a bad emulation of a really awful split, but hey... that's just like, my opinion, man.
Please give me a home where cloud buffalo roam
Where the dear and the strangers can play
Where sometimes is heard a discouraging word
But the skies are not stormy all day
