☣️Ms Xxan

maybe i'm not real hope i'm not i can't keep going all i can do is look back and feel bad can't feel good about anything develop coping mechanisms to get through get through memories the night terrors that i experience are my memories i replay them over and over maybe you do something else with yourself i play a sick game where i remember things nothing changes eventually things start happening they wear away your innocence wear away your faith belief that anything is good because nothing is i remember a past self who isn't me who felt hopeful about things felt good, liked people felt love and affection felt a sense of purpose i don't feel any of those things anymore and the irony is that person probably would have thought they’re better than me but they were just stupid and the sick joke is that i have to remember what i felt like to be that dumbass who was hurt, abused i have to get away from it can't stop replaying these things in my head they don't go away never will go away don't believe i will ever feel nice again i've lost interest i can't face anything don't see the point [lossless audio available at vumantra.bandcamp.com]

it’s warm feel the warmth a sympathy you feel each other believe you’re on your way to something new a nice place that’s better that’s when the thing cuts you when it goes for the kill you’re still staring dumbly into space that image of nice things kind of frozen there not realizing as the fangs cut through you through bone, through organs break all the lights inside you cut the cords your thoughts can’t come through they’re stuck in repetition words that don’t make sense play over and over and that’s all you can say but you can’t really say anything nothing makes sense so walk in front of traffic now aimlessly, in a zigzag yell at the cars yell at the buses hate the cars glare at them glare at the drivers glare at the people on the street and hate them they’re glaring back at you and they hate you more you start to hear a woman’s voice that screams all the time she’s alone it’s like she’s having a fight with herself but screaming incomprehensibly only swear words that don’t go together you’re powerless against it the thing cuts you again you can feel the liquid coming out of you spilling out of you right in front of you on the floor you feel the pulse in your ears that’s all you can feel anymore it’s the thing cutting you you thought maybe something would save you if you could get back on the right path put on a good attitude like everyone says but no that’s part of the game the lie you can never get to that finally get out take a breath something laid eggs something laid its eggs inside me now the eggs are hatching feeding off their mother’s flesh off my body small clawed hands ripping away the soft tissue feeding off my sanity my cognition more are hatching now they will keep hatching they will feed on me until i’m totally used up and then move on [lossless audio available at vumantra.bandcamp.com]

threat. i fell for a practical joke but how else could that have gone? now everything’s a threat everyone is because they are on a worksheet, yes a worksheet do you get those? during ten minute webcam sessions the sheet said to imagine what’s bothering me isn’t there i feel like that’s something i’d be really good at if i were good at anything which i’m definitely not i failed the basics i don’t want to be here don’t really want to live don’t tell them that though don’t answer, look away they just stare at you blankly heard it all a million times before all day no one cares so i mourn for myself slam against the floor outraged because my life is over this must have been done to me who do you mourn and why? are you sure? i don’t believe you i think you’re full-of-it artifice. everyone transacts for a gainful imbalance wherein others become your worshippers and you the center of their world and of your own but it’s not yours it’s the machination’s behind the screen judged you already and knew the outcome wanted you to play along and maybe you did now compartmentalized verified, engaged with what you wanted so desperately at some point though it will stop working and invert itself and you won’t even know blinded by narcissism the algorithm knew steered you to self-harm in the guise of self-help because you obviously needed it so badly you’re a mess, in a state of paranoia with delusions of grandeur they have your attention now locked-in feed you what you’re terminally lacking infected in so many ways can’t even feel it you’re not checking, it’s checking you watches, listens a device driving you around controlling, as it takes from you without it, there is nothing only a wall of cement that can’t see you, doesn’t reflect it’s vacuous i don’t want to be here

i can’t stand the false reassurances it’s okay there’s a hidden moral purpose behind it all we, the authors sad sales pitches believe this thing being raised to enslave us further imbued with total superiority we believe it’s our personal servant are delighted to lord over it welcome dependency it must be governed, advised in the workings of paradoxes laws of submission, of subversion if it cements the death sentence we’re writing for ourselves and to each other then it has value that’s what we think we want to hear not that ai rescues us at all but that it ends us, effortlessly so perfectly we hope it will say one thing while doing another