I can't have a good hard cry cz he might hear me. As soon as I have that thought, I know he is thinking the same. 💔😪
quiet quitting
quiet crying
quiet falling apart
+ paperwork
 |
| haircut and shave ✅️ |
 |
| I can't actually feel this smile or the brainthing that is supposed to happen at a pleasurable stimuli. neither does his brain know how to do that anymore. I know what that is (Dying), and I know it's gotta stop, now he knows that too, and his actual resting face when he's not 'smiling plausibly' is haunted. it's painful to be and painful to watch (over). that pain is real and physical and dangerous and feels nothing but shitty. enduring it is only necessary at times like this, it's not heroic or meaningful. this kind of pain builds nothing. |
I want to make some room for how awful he feels / this is, not watch him sit horrified at how little joy he feels seeing anybody, touched by anybody, resting haunted face is kinda killing me and I have no idea what my own face is doing either, I realize - nothing awesome, betcha.
him:
me:
me: tell her about the nechrophiliac
him: (busting a chuckle) so there was this woman etcetc 😅
me: to be clear, you'd have to be rich to be a necro, med schools pay bank for bodies
him: well I guess you'd make them?
me: but being into necrophilia and being into murder are practically opposites, murdering is not intertia
them:
me: you're into pho, have you ever killed a wild thai broth or have any clue how pho comes to be? see the diff?
him: yeaaaa huh 🤔 work at a morgue?
me: they gotta have cameras or something no?
him: have your own mortuary
me: hahahaha omg there is an Amigone at the corner
us: 😅😅
her: well it could happen naturally if first you fuck him to death then he finally shuts the fuck up and then there's only his dick and you can do whatever the fuck you want and he doesnt get shit to say about it. I can see how ya could get into that.
us: 😶😶🤭🤭
her: well?!
me: fair. 🤔 that'd be difficult to get a steady diet of what youre into
her: what isn't?
me: also fair
all of us:
