this is the thread, where you, the vapid woman's genitals of a reader, get to brighten up your dullness of an existence by making decisions for me.

this hour marks 22 days since i called the frontman of my chemical romance and he has not called me back. as tradition goes it is time for more self mutilation on this twenty second day of despair.

what should i do? be specific, include methods and body part/tools needed

left arm into garbage disposal right arm sticks fork in toaster

get all dolled up and ready for a night on the town! you need one, hunni~

i voet that u never pots again

yu0 sho^uldl chha4nge yu0r diet k also wEar a male reproductive organring~~

maaybie soem sexZ0r~~ to hlep yuor problems Log in to see images!

eponymous_ennui Posted:

Cubear Posted:

seriously though you should come over to my place and we’ll do your makeup and go to the club!

and then what? that you should find another desperately lonely human being and, in an infantile attempt at true social contact, grope at each other on the dance floor while the crbum electronic drumbeat mask your fears? that you should drink the darkness in the empty pit of your stomach away until you forget you were even once human, that you once knew to think for yourself?

your life is a pathetic sham, your existence even more hollow. you have worn a mask for your whole life, hidden behind makeup and sex and computer screens. you ****ed them all, but not a single one of them ever loved you. not. a. single. one. and you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, in your secret soul. you knew. but you are still too afraid to kill yourself, because you dare not find out what truths lie beyond the steely edge of the razor.

spare yourself this suffering. you know what you must do. Log in to see images!

L0l yoou writte alot

eponymous_ennui Posted:

****esAint**** Posted:

L0l yoou writte alot

and what of you? be you man or ape, or have you already forgotten? how long have you worn that porcelain simian façade hiding your humanity? has it become your face now, that you have worn it for so long? do you find yourself unable to cast it away, do you find yourself stifled and trapped by the image you’ve carved out for yourself from the bloodied clay of your flesh?

thats dumb your dumb Log in to see images!

Cubear Posted:

eponymous_ennui Posted:

Cubear Posted:

seriously though you should come over to my place and we’ll do your makeup and go to the club!

and then what? that you should find another desperately lonely human being and, in an infantile attempt at true social contact, grope at each other on the dance floor while the crbum electronic drumbeat mask your fears? that you should drink the darkness in the empty pit of your stomach away until you forget you were even once human, that you once knew to think for yourself?

your life is a pathetic sham, your existence even more hollow. you have worn a mask for your whole life, hidden behind makeup and sex and computer screens. you ****ed them all, but not a single one of them ever loved you. not. a. single. one. and you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, in your secret soul. you knew. but you are still too afraid to kill yourself, because you dare not find out what truths lie beyond the steely edge of the razor.

spare yourself this suffering. you know what you must do. Log in to see images!

it doesn’t really matter if any of them loved me, because i love me.

and still, all you really want to do is cry yourself to sleep every night.

you never sleep alone because you cannot bear the exquisite loneliness and reflection solitude brings. you watch the hands on a clock count down each minute of your life even as you lie, wide-eyed and unable to sleep, huddled in the corner of your own expansive bed. and so you fill that emptiness with male reproductive organ and male reproductive organtails; you make yourself out to be willing, as if you enjoyed what you do.

why, then, do you cry every time you look at yourself in the mirror? your lipstick smeared from the man you just sucked off, mascara bleeding into your tears until they mingle, bitter and salty, with the gagging stench of his seed still in the back of your throat. what do you cry for? who do you cry for?

go on then, keep telling yourself that it doesn’t matter. maybe one day, you may just believe it.

Cubear Posted:

umm, i don’t know what sort of depraved life you think i have but honestly, that’s really messed up.

argh you just shattered all my illusions

eponymous_ennui Posted:

Cubear Posted:

eponymous_ennui Posted:

Cubear Posted:

seriously though you should come over to my place and we’ll do your makeup and go to the club!

and then what? that you should find another desperately lonely human being and, in an infantile attempt at true social contact, grope at each other on the dance floor while the crbum electronic drumbeat mask your fears? that you should drink the darkness in the empty pit of your stomach away until you forget you were even once human, that you once knew to think for yourself?

your life is a pathetic sham, your existence even more hollow. you have worn a mask for your whole life, hidden behind makeup and sex and computer screens. you ****ed them all, but not a single one of them ever loved you. not. a. single. one. and you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, in your secret soul. you knew. but you are still too afraid to kill yourself, because you dare not find out what truths lie beyond the steely edge of the razor.

spare yourself this suffering. you know what you must do. Log in to see images!

it doesn’t really matter if any of them loved me, because i love me.

and still, all you really want to do is cry yourself to sleep every night.

you never sleep alone because you cannot bear the exquisite loneliness and reflection solitude brings. you watch the hands on a clock count down each minute of your life even as you lie, wide-eyed and unable to sleep, huddled in the corner of your own expansive bed. and so you fill that emptiness with male reproductive organ and male reproductive organtails; you make yourself out to be willing, as if you enjoyed what you do.

why, then, do you cry every time you look at yourself in the mirror? your lipstick smeared from the man you just sucked off, mascara bleeding into your tears until they mingle, bitter and salty, with the gagging stench of his seed still in the back of your throat. what do you cry for? who do you cry for?

go on then, keep telling yourself that it doesn’t matter. maybe one day, you may just believe it.

****….......... how….....

****… **** you…... Log in to see images!