Femboy_Hooters's Profile - MyAnimeList.net

Last OnlineMay 1, 10:45 PM
BirthdayJun 6, 1987
LocationThe basement below the basement
JoinedMar 23, 2016

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Its cyclical and ever-turning to begin
Around again we burn a thousand ends
Negate your soul surrender hope into the trend
Of falling in and wage a war into the wind
It's just another revolution
It's just another ring around the sun
To chase a resolution
To end where we've begun

"She's barely gained consciousness and when she sees me standing over her naked, I can imagine my virtual absence of humanity fills her with mind-bending horror.
I've situated the body in front of the new Toshiba Television set and in the VCR is an old tape and appearing on the screen is the last girl I filmed.
I'm wearing: a Joseph Abboud suit, tie by Paul Stuart, shoes by J. Crew, a vest by someone Italian and I'm kneeling on the floor beside a corpse eating the girl's brain gobbling it down spreading Grey Poupon over hunks of the pink fleshy meat.
"Can you see?" I asked the girl not on the Television set.
"Can you see this, are you watching?" I whisper.
I try using the power drill on her, forcing it into her mouth but she's conscious enough, has strength to close her teeth clamping them down and even though the drill goes through the teeth quickly it fails to interest me.
So I hold her head up, blood dribbling from her mouth and make her watch the rest of the tape.
While she's looking at the girl on the screen bleed from almost every possible orifice I'm hoping she realizes that this would've happened to her no matter what. That she would've ended up here lying on the floor in my apartment hands nailed to posts, cheese and broken glass pushed up into her cunt.
Her head cracked and bleeding purple no matter what other choice she might have made."

“I had all the characteristics of a human being—flesh, blood, skin, hair—but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep, that my normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a slow, purposeful erasure. I was simply imitating reality, a rough resemblance of a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning”

"Talking animals were the topic of this morning's Patty Winters Show. An octopus was floating in a makeshift aquarium with a microphone attached to one of its tentacles and it kept asking - or so its "trainer," who is positive that mollusks have vocal cords, assured us - for "cheese."
I watched, vaguely transfixed, until I started to sob. "

“I stare into a thin, web-like crack above the urinal's handle and think to myself that if I were to disappear into that crack, say somehow miniaturize and slip into it, the odds are good that no one would notice I was gone. No... one... would... care. In fact some, if they noticed my absence, might feel an odd, indefinable sense of relief. This is true: the world is better off with some people gone. Our lives are not all interconnected. That theory is crock. Some people truly do not need to be here.”

"...to say yes, it may be a game, but it's a ghastly game, it's a grim game. It's like a child who's caught a fly alive and is picking the wings off it. The universe is that sort of scheme. It's a trap. It's the thing that gives you hope, always dangling possibilities in front of you to keep you going but then it grinds you up. Then it revives you a little like a master torturer, keeping a person alive in order to experience pain."

Terrible visions in my sleep
I can see your face again
Terrible visions and I'm awake
I can't get away
Terrible visions as you speak
I can see you lying there dead
I can see you lying there
I didn't do it
I didn't do it for love
I didn't do it
I didn't do it for us
Why did I do it?
What did I do it for?
Did I do it?
Did I do it for-
Excess, excess
Excess, for excess