Let's normalise liying when ppl ask way too much questions

A gentle cannibal took a small precise bite from my heart. The expected agony, the searing pain, did not materialize. Instead, a peculiar warmth, a deceptive embrace, bloomed within me. It was a fool’s solace, and, with a misguided sense of gratitude, I termed him kind. The evidence, of course, was there, a crimson stain upon his lips, a silent accusation that my naive senses failed to register.

Curse the day I mistook his devouring hunger for the tender affections I so desperately carved.

What if I had it all, but all I wanted was you.

The memory of last night clings to me like a shroud, a heavy, suffocating weight. I can still feel the phantom sting of tears I cannot seem to staunch, a relentless torrent that defies all logic and reason. I, the one who prides myself on stoicism, the one who navigates life with a carefully constructed mask of composure, was reduced to a weeping mess. I tried everything within my limited arsenal of control: deep breaths, cold compresses, the silent mantra of denial I have perfected over years. But the tears kept coming, a betrayal of my carefully cultivated persona, a stark reminder of my own vulnerability. It is an anomaly, this outpouring, a glitch in the system I have worked so hard to maintain. I, the one who doesn’t cry, who holds back the floods of emotion that threaten to overwhelm, I was undone by some unseen force, reduced to a raw and broken thing.

And the worst part, the thing that twists the knife deeper, is the secrecy I maintain. I don’t speak of it, not even to the person who shares my life, the one who believes he knows me best. I am a master of deception, a practiced liar who paints a picture of normalcy, of a life untouched by inner turmoil. He sees the facade, the composed exterior, and I silently, painfully, allow him to believe it. The truth, this relentless torrent of tears that I can barely contain, remains a hidden thing, a secret shame locked away behind the impenetrable walls of my own making. I am normal, I insist to myself, even as the evidence to the contrary floods my vision, blurring the lines between reality and this agonizing, private torment. I will not allow him to see the cracks in my composure, to witness this unsettling display of my own fragility. I will keep this secret, this unbearable burden, locked within me, forever

In the end I desire the things that could end me most.

#you?

im actually super annoying all i do is sleep so im unproductive and when i am awake i just complain about wanting to be unconscious again or dead

Too scared of the thoughts behind my thoughts.

Suspicious ❌

Ere betam deg nat isw🎯

And beneath the surface of every smile,
I perceive the glint of sharpened fangs,
poised to tear and just bite.
Every word of encouragement, every seemingly heartfelt investment (seems like words plqy going on),
is but a carefully constructed lie,
a veiled prayer for my ultimate demise.

I am surrounded by a chorus of wolves in sheep's clothing,
each one a master of deception,
cloaking their malevolent intent in a facade of benevolence.
And yet, amidst this theater of cruelty,
I detect a distinct odor,
a pungent, acrid scent that fills the air –
the unmistakable aroma of something burning.

Is it me? Am I the offering,
the sacrificial lamb consumed by their insatiable hunger?
Or is it the edifice I have painstakingly constructed,
the fragile fortress of a life I believed to be my shelter,
now reduced to smoldering rubble.


I see the match, the instrument of my destruction,
held aloft in their hands,
and yet, with a practiced ease, I feign ignorance,
a performance of indifference designed to conceal the terror
that claws at my throat.

I be saying whatever on my mind lately, it's like my tongue has a mind of its own

Somethings are just mild

Disappointed of who i turned out to be