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I love ruining fucking everything constantly. The truth bears its fangs and of course it ruins everything around it. Better if I shut up and nod for the rest of my miserable, worthless life.
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鑻楃枂miaojiang style fashion designed by hanfu stores
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Johnson Cheung-shing Tsang: A Painful Pot (2013)
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Cho Gi-Seok: 'Different' (2023)
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Lei Xue: 'Drinking Tea' (2009)
Smashed Cans Sculpted and Hand Painted in the Traditional Style of Ming Dynasty Porcelain.
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Pain everywhere. No way to fix it but lay down. I don't want to lay down right now.
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babirusa / dog / rabbit / rattlesnake / sheep / hippo skulls (source)
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quick and easy tips
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A fly and a mosquito caught in a sundew By: Unknown photographer From: Disney's Wonderful World of Knowledge 1971
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I wish I could kill myself. But unfortunately, everything around me prevents it. I cannot get up to grab a knife. I cannot run in order to make it to the street. Broken, useless body.
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I am a weak.. broken imitation of that which came before me. I may try to assert my uniqueness. My individuality. But I am stolen.
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I bit my nail down too far the other night and tore my flesh from underneath it out. It did not sting. It just bled, heavily. My blood is weak and watery in taste. I know why. There's not enough iron. Never enough.
It is so rare I can pull blood from any place other than the rotting scabs on my breasts. Oozing vile ichor and deep crimson red, my dull, short nails digging, clawing, peeling the flesh. It itches. It burns. It bleeds. It's all I can cling to. I have naught blade nor flame to use instead. Stolen from me. Denied to me.
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Here I am.
I'm Null.
Neutral pronouns only.
If you don't like gore, mentions of self mutilation, self harm discussion and self hatred born of disability and weight, probably wouldn't be good to follow me.
I won't mention my source. Figure it out.
Talk to me I guess. But I can't promise to be genuine.
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