• there's a battle raging inside me. each feeling, each personality of mine, is it's own tentacle. extending and weaving, fighting every other one. tearing one away only to regrow two in it's place. like a fucking hydra. i'm trapped in a writhing mass of destruction and rebirth. alex pardee is such a good artist. i fucking love him. my hair is so blonde now. and my body is so so thin. painfully thin. but i feel pretty now. gorgeous. and i've been getting lustful stares more often and from more attractive strangers, stroking my enlarging ego. and i'm being told that i'm good, i'm so good. at flicking my tongue, at moving my body, at moaning your name. i drive too fast and i play my music too loud. i want the wind to blow through my golden hair. i need to feel each pound of the base beating through my chest cavity. i fucking love the danger of speeding down an open road. it's a power rush. i have to be in control of this potential chaos. or risk losing the power i've obtained. take it out on me so i can hear your broken heart beating and now you've got me shoved against the wall so that i can feel the heat of your body

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