And told me I would need those to eat crab rangoon with.

them my right eye, the aperture filled with something that looked like mercury that hissed and evaporated when it met cold air. I gave them three of my fingers as well, taken apart and given a different purpose.
And they looked at me and laughed, and shook their head.

Wires of course, but wet and alive, and struts, plating, bolts, sockets-- all of it too hot, steaming. Blue-grey metal that pulsed and squirmed. They took parts of me out, disassembled and cleaned. Some they replaced, some they took to fix a machine we were working on together. I remember giving

I don't really often see interesting designs for non-human yonic anatomy but this is pretty damn cool. I love the colours 👀

I'm not noise, I am the boundless
All-encompassing boom
Of a detonation
And I don't give my second-thoughts room
This time.

I have no mind about me to tell you
That it's just fear
Garden variety, co-conspirator with my anxiety

But 6am and the sun has yet to rise
I'm still feeling the high
Of being what you needed in that moment
Perfectly molded
Fuck fear, fuck worries, fuck paranoia

I don't know if your brand of malicious thoughts are like mine but, here's an affirmation for you, maybe?
You are inspiring to those you reach, and your messages of compassion and humanistic approach are uplifting. You are making change, however small, for yourself and others every day.

Can I wash the coffee pot without waking my partner? (No.) Do I feel motivated or inspired to write? (Also no.) Why am I awake? (Circadian rhythm irregularities probably. Or the need to piss.)
The buzz is constant, but tonight it's just a murmuring. Like a sleep-addled friend after a party.

I didn't understand.
I dreamt that my sisters and mother became kind to me in a way that suggested some sort of condescending smugness. I ran from that too. Everything was hostile in that dream but especially my family. Woke up befuddled.

I was expected to clean it.
I didn't live there anymore.
I was exhausted and confused and went out on a drive to cool my head, only to come across my father at a garden supply store. His opening line was to blame me for the fact that his kitchen had caught fire due to issues with the stove/oven.