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Source: The New York Tattler, July 8, 1909.

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oh haha dave hurt himself again what a goddamn surprise fuck you i dont like being in pain does anybody like being in pain i guess those who literally get off on it do but im not one of those people so i dont fucking like being in pain fuck you

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airstreaks replied to your post: guess who got stung by a wasp thing

i’ll beat the shit out of that wasp.

yeah fuck it up for me egbert while i go to jane and whine at her for something to take the swelling down

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guess who got stung by a wasp thing

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i just found a skull that has weird holes in the top that ive never seen on another skull like what the fuck kind of animal has holes in the head like that it doesnt look like theyre from an injury but more like its just a design thing like eye sockets on top of the head hey do you think this thing had more than one set of eyes thatd be rad

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think im gonna start using this thing as like a journal or some shit to document all the cool things i find while digging around in the dirt like today i found a bone melded into stone kind of looks like a rodent bone  its very small and delicate

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=> A memory passes through.

     Recent events got you thinking about something you’d rather not be thinking about, yet here you are, in the wee hours of the morning, thinking about the very thing you really did not want to fucking think about.

     You lay in bed, stare up at the blank ceilings, trying to push these thoughts out of your head, but they keep crawling back to you. No matter how many thoughts you try to think about to push those ones out, it doesn’t work and your mind drifts back to when you killed your guardian.

     Bro had always been somebody who you admired for his strength but hated for his brutality, and you could never have one without the other. You don’t ever remember a time where he didn’t look at you like you were a waste of air and he made it known. His feelings for you or Dirk weren’t kept a secret. 

     If they were, he did an astronomically good job at hiding it by beating your asses into submission. You lied to yourself for so long saying it was to train you, to make you better at protecting yourselves and readying you for the shitstorm that was to come. It had its perks, obviously - you learned how to fight, but you quickly found out you hated it. 

     You needed to find a way out, and you did but with grave consequences. 

     Bro was on your case for something, you can’t remember what because as far as you know, it was probably nothing. You made him angry, though, and he showed it with his fists and sword, with words thrown into the mix and he struck you down over and over. 

     ‘Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you!’ he snarled, grabbing you by the throat and making you look at him. Your shades were long since discarded so you had nothing to to protect yourself. 

    You were shaking, tears welling up in your eyes and you were so desperate to keep them at bay. You never cried in front of Bro. Tears were the biggest trigger for his rage. 

    He threw you down, pointing the tip of his sword at your chest and fear bubbled up in you. He could easily kill you, so why hasn’t he done it? Why did he continue to hurt and torment you like this? 

    ‘Fuckin’ pussy,’ he hissed, pressing his sword into your chest just enough for you to feel the pinprick in your skin. 

    Suddenly Dirk was at your side, grabbing Bro’s arm to try and let you up. You don’t remember him getting there, and you don’t fully remember what happened between the two but Bro turned on Dirk, threatening him and smacking him around and that gave you ample opportunity to climb up and grab your own sword, which laid half broken on the ground. 

    Using Dirk as the distraction and with blind rage fueling you, you drove your sword through his chest. 

    There was a moment when everything went still. 

    Dirk stared at you as Bro tensed up and you just pushed the sword in a little deeper until it came to a stop at the hilt. Blood oozed around your shaking hands and the only sound any of you made was your ragged breathing. 

    Bro twisted his head around just enough to look at you through the corner of his eye. You met his gaze and faltered. 

    There wasn’t anger in him. There wasn’t rage. You didn’t see sorrow, nor regret, nor remorse. You saw something that made your stomach churn painfully and your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

    You saw pride. 

    You won the war against him.

    You let go of the sword as his body collapsed into a heap, blood pooling around his form. You stared at it, feeling numb and cold and empty. 

    ‘Dave...’ Dirk’s voice broke through to you and you looked up. 

    The world around you went on fast forward. Everything happened so fast - you backed up, Dirk moved closer but you pushed him away and doubled over, throwing up what little contents your stomach held. You coughed and sputtered and backed away, feeling the overwhelming desire to run, but your legs turned to lead.

    Dirk grabbed you and pulled you in close, trying to whisper comforting words to keep you calm, but you couldn’t. You never killed anybody before. You never thought you could, let alone Bro. 

    You lost it.

    You cried and yelled and sobbed into Dirk’s chest and he just held you, petting your hair. You grabbed onto him and held him close and kept crying, kept yelling, kept sobbing until you couldn’t anymore, until your body went limp in his arms and sheer exhaustion from what happened took over.

    You woke up in Dirk’s bed hours later and when you went into the living room, you found Bro’s body gone. Dirk was scrubbing the floor, and when he noticed you, he stood up. 

    ‘I wrapped him up,’ he explained. ‘Thinkin’ we could bury him somewhere.’ 

    You just nodded, grabbing some gloves and a cloth to help clean up the stain that would never leave. Even if you burned the apartment down, it’ll always be there in your mind, just like Bro’s blood on your hands.

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all of this is somehow worse than earth and thats a fucking laugh because earth was a bad place to be and i was a bad person who did a lot of horrible shit and ive never felt worst 

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fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

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i dont want to be here anymore

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worms are still cool js

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aithentic‌:

卄卂ㄒ乇.

                 ℓεт мε тεℓℓ үσυ нσω мυcн ι'vε cσмε тσ нαтε үσυ sιηcε ι вεgαη тσ ℓιvε.

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we! need! lalondes! we! need! lalondes!

i mean we need everybody but! lalondes!!

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avoidance is my middle name

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im too fucking cool to be losing my shit over something like being unable to figure out how to express feelings holy fucking shit this is stupid i hate everything about it why the fuck couldnt it have been different for me why the fuck was it punishable to show anything even remotely emotional fuck

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i cant do it i cant do it i cant do it

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that wasnt okay that wasnt a depression thing good god i need to think before i talk

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oh boy