And, what's more, this 'precious' body, the very same that is hooted and honked at, demeaned both in daily life as well as in ever existing form of media, harrassed, molested, raped, and, if all that wasn't enough, is forever poked and prodded and weighed and constantly wrong for eating too much, eating too little, a million details which all point to the solitary girl, to EVERY solitary girl, and say: Destroy yourself
Oh, and I certainly don't suffer from schizophrenia. I quite enjoy it. And so do I
What's the big fucking deal? Lots of amazing people have committed suicide, and they turned out alright
He cried when I left, which I find to be standard male behavior
I do not have OCD OCD OCD
"Simply put, if you are a Wayward Victorian Girl, I'll find you"
"We had people fainting during the last tour, but I'm aiming for people to actually drop dead at this one."
Hey, look at me! Look at me! Look at me! And...look at me. Will he think I'm sexy enough? Will he find me wholesome enough? Am I fuckable?
Author: Emilie Autumn