tankgotstuckinthecircusgate

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

honestly so glad to finally write this cannibal's story. just bc it's uncompromising. this is real life and no, nothing will change. it can't. and there's no happy ending. you can fit anyone but there's no one for you. and never will be. some are destined to find understanding only in the reflection of a mirror. this is actually soothing, to understand that there's nothing waiting for you, that you're alone at dawn and you'll still be alone at sunset. silence. comforting acceptance of how life turned out to be

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looted a free sketchbook today 👄

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one day i'll simply drop my fetishistic art here and you'll never know when exactly it's going to happen

kinda gross text under the cut

wrote this idk more than month ago on an especially bad day; mostly its just my inner dialogue with the abstract; & me @ mslf. texts that has zero ethics bc it can't exist here /// And you wake up, choking on ink. Black spots jump, laughing at the white purity of the sheet. They dance and tear it with their claws. The sharp, ringing cry of the pen - it always screams uncompromisingly, it isn't a brush! I stopped loving brushes. I like how precisely the pen speaks, how unexpectedly and sharply its line and thickness change. How cruelly you can tear the paper with it, leaving traces of your claws. Black liquid flows from your grinning impudent mouth. Cleaner than water, more honest than prayers

I wear your tiger skin on me. What a wonderful gift /// You know that I don’t want to put a collar on you. But your body is so beautiful in its great softness, how much pleasure it brings. But I don’t want you to be afraid. And I don’t want you to scare me. It’s so hard for me to imagine a relationship without violence and fear, it’s really hard. I know it’s the same for you. This morning I was a black dog. I stink of cigarettes. And there is nothing beautiful, but my tiger skin shines in the sun. This is not strength, this is the cowardice of a scoundrel. This morning I was thinking about all of you - beautiful creatures. Saliva flows from my mouth and I have to lick my lips greedily. I do not hide the fact that I am a greedy and lustful freak. A freak in whom there is so much beauty. Craving and love for beauty, denied by society, raped and torn apart by others, toothy and truly ugly, insensitive. Therefore, your beauty is overgrown with dirty fur of ugliness. No one will know how much softness and love there is in you. You become a cruel and cold consumer. It's easier that way. You are a voyeur, watching an orgy through a crack, brazenly satisfying yourself without asking or permission. Thick saliva flows from your greedy mouth and you drown in the pleasure of your own perversion, your own ugliness. No one will ever want a freak like you. You will always look through a crack. Maybe when you grow up, you will film fat whores indulging all your perverted desires. In the end, what difference does it make? The deep meanness of a cruel pervert shines in your soft dark eyes. You can say that life made you this way, but you accepted yourself. No one is to blame for this except your dirty fingers, which you so want to shove into your wet dark mouth, under which a sweaty double chin shines. You want them sucked greedily, like a hungry animal gnawing on a bone. You want that fat, insatiable greed. Just wonderful

Today I look into strangers' eyes without fear. Long, indifferently, defiantly. I don't care. A cheeky and arrogant grin, behind which lies a soft tenderness. /// "«prix de gros» – not only a large, high price, but also the price for livestock «by live weight»."

Maybe when you grow up and get rich - you'll move to another country, change your passport, an unrecognizable dark spot. A cancerous tumor with a greedy grin. And maybe you'll allow yourself to pick up whores - feigning lust and deeply unhappy. You'll feel sorry for them, just like you feel sorry for yourself. And like a real perverted freak - you'll hide behind a fictitious name or even a nickname, not daring to name the real one. And it will be equivalent - prostitutes also use fake names. And you'll find pleasure in your own shame and your own baseness. And you, just like all these whores, were supposed to be a pure child of God. But in the end, you accepted your ugliness. You masturbate on your own dirt. God gave you too much love, now you smear it with the heel of your shoes. Because you don't know what to do with it. «No one will ever want to sleep with you». It would be funny to fall in love with a whore and pay her fabulous sums. I set the highest price for her. The price that is set for horned cattle. And now I can do with you whatever I want, although I feel sorry for you And no one will believe or see what an abundance of saliva flows from your lips. You will masturbate, looking through the keyhole without asking. «No one will ever want to sleep with you»

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workkkkkk

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my coworker asked was my weekends good well they were; finished 1st scene of cannibal while sitting in line to see a psychiatrist⚘

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tho i still have one big problem with writing

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fr this is insane. how tf i started like actually writing like how i don't have this stupor anymore. what!!!

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sometimes i look at agatha and she reminds me of alcoholic cat from old post sov cartoon "ловушка для бамбра"

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woman

her @ cannibal. literally

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apparently this story bout the cannibal turns out to feel like a social ?experiment thing & so far people actually feel sorry for him because he's fictional. which is funny. in real life there's no acceptance or understanding & he doesn't get any in the story as well

my honest reaction

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"He lay between two dead bodies, still hot, crumbling with tenderness. Blood was pouring onto the sheet and he was laughing with happiness. He fell on one neck, then on the other, staining his lips red. He gave them kisses as if they were still alive. Their voices, sighs, moans, pleas rang in his head. He loved the dead: with them there was no need to hurry."

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<3

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sketch about summer, sweat and hot air

bits bc colors r insanee

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if someone asked me to describe my personality with just one song i think i'd choose this one

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Teaching children to be anything Other than who they are, who they are

* My head is filled with parasites Black holes cover up my eyes I dream of you almost every night Hopefully I won't wake up this time * I only talk to dogs because they don't understand me My teeth are yellow, hello world Would you like me a little better if they were white like yours? I need to purge my urges, shame, shame, shame * Most of the time you're invisible Prostitute with a heart of gold You belong to someone else Effects waiting for the cause Nature remembers who you are Not who you tried to be You don't fit in Tried to make it fit, but you stick out You don't belong here, you don't fit in * I'm not that nice I'm mean and I'm evil Don't call me nice I'm gonna eat your heart out * Protect me from what I want Protect me, protect me

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having a romantic dinner

the most dramatic cannibal character everr