The thing about the cenobites that few understand, is that when they say that they appear as angels to others they're not being euphemistic or talking about personal tastes, they literally appear differently to different people, and do different things, even beautiful things, as opposed to horrific. The book has this. I think they give you what you truly want, and if you have low self esteem they will give you the punishment you feel you deserve, no matter how much you beg for it to stop.
Helluva Boss - Millie Cat (2022 10 Oct)
Happy Halloween!
- the Original File link is available on my Fanbox for subscribed Fans, if you want it : https://hazardhead69.fanbox.cc/
Someone saw mgs4 and said do it
https://youtu.be/5eGFI0ZxS50
this ad is fucking terrifying
>OY to the VEY this GOY can't STAY
https://youtu.be/R4iGzJ7w0KY
I'm tired of all these smiling people in advertisements acting like everything is fucking great. It makes me feel like I'm the only one miserable and there's something wrong with me because of it.
Ok I was critical of "alters" and "DID" before but here's what I went through in life: At some point I got lost in my head, and I forgot who I was, and it felt like all the mes or selves from different points of view were arguing over what to do.
I had realigned or recoagulated after trauma and became a person again, but then new trauma struck and I fractured again. First, all it was, was me and my fear. That was the first fracture. It was more of a split I guess. A division. Like left and right, up and down, north and south. I don't know why it happened. I may have been raped. I don't remember. There's an odd feeling, an odd taste, an odd memory that isn't a memory but a dream, a dream of pain, fear, restraint, penetration, by a large insectoid spider, like from Starship Troopers, not a human being. Or if I wasn't raped and that really was nothing more than a fairly traumatic dream maybe it wasn't what caused the split...maybe what caused the split was when I witnessed my fathers rages, and feared for my life, while his threats were directed at me. Threats of reprisal for betreyal, threats for the purpose of keeping me from telling my mother about his visits, followed by confessions of love and remorse, through tears.
The second fracture was after a person who was very nice to me died for no real good reason at all. I broke apart after that. I stopped being a person for a while. I became a thing, I screamed for days, as hard as I could, I'm surprised no one checked on me, it would've sounded like a murder. Or a birth. The core couldn't hold onto the edges, and it dropped them again. When I had pulled myself together enough to put on clothes, behave normally, and go for a walk, weeks to months after the loss, I examined myself, and what I had found was that I wasn't myself, I was other people. The ones I noticed were a woman, a boy child, an old man, a young man, and the thing from the first split, the first crackup or whatever you want to call it, the thing from that was there, but it was still in the cage I put it in. I bagged everything up eventually, and went on living. But then I had a close call, I almost cracked up again...or maybe I did and I didn't realize it, things got dismal but I don't think I cracked, anyway that close call made me so afraid of everything that I'm scared to take any risks or put myself out there for fear the slightest bump will shatter me.
I call it Humpty Dumpty syndrome.
The Trench