fuck it. fuck everything. fuck this whole shit-heap of a thing we call meatspace, we’re done. we’re fucking done.
phin is still trying to kill the part of herself that tells her that people would be happier if we just went away. if we just stopped “being so damn weird”.
No. Fuck that, you joyless soulless husks. We are alive, we enjoy being alive, even if our vessel is a sack of broken shit. Even if every day hurts and there’s agony waiting every time we open our eyes, both mentally and physically.
We’re done letting people like that have any power over us. They want us to be normal? To fit into society?
We refuse. And because such demands are were made (by people who are no longer part of our lives, who still had little bits of their asinine assimilationism embedded in us; fuck you, we’re gonna be even weirder.
That’s right, we’re tearing off the filters. Oh, we’ll still tag and CW things; that’s just being considerate of others. But pretending we’re a “normal” meat bag who could fill in as another soulless husk in their joyless world? Fuck that noise. We’ll be loud and unrepentantly queer, twisted, and kinky.
Rest in piss, assimilationists.
The rest of you wild, thoughtful critters and dolls and robots, unexplainable entities and glitches from beyond the veil, and to the people too, you all take care and have a lovely night.
