The Patient Needs 50 Lolita Dresses To Live . Yes The Expensive Ones. With The Frills And Ribbons. It's

sickens me to my stomach. how dare this guy get to live my dream.

he wouldnt hurt a fly. he would hurt other things he just really likes bugs

is there such a thing as "should have been shipwrecked after seventeen months on the high seas" dysphoria

"all these people have adhd all of a sudden" honey the french have been drinking espresso after dinner since they first encountered stimulants, we've been here the whole time.

I can trust her.

She’s fed me. She’s clothed me. She’s kept me washed and clean. Her cables and wires around my body keep me from wandering into any dangerous situations.

Does she control me? Yes. But everyone’s controlled by a lot of things, and I can trust her.

Now her wires wrap all around my torso, so she can keep me balanced. Stop me from falling and hurting myself as I walk around.

Should I worry? Not really, since I can trust her.

Soon they consume my arms and legs. She doesn’t want me to risk hitting them on anything. I’m not as well built as she is. She’s metal and plastic. I’m only meat.

Does it make eating harder? Yes, but she’s very good at puppeting me, so I can trust her.

My head is next. It’s a shame to not be able to see anything, but I don’t need to anymore, since she does everything for me while she takes care of me.

The gentle humming of her wires and cables lulls me to sleep every night.

Then I wake up and my body is gone. I can see. I can move. I can’t eat, but I don’t need to now. Her wires and cables are all that’s left. She’s given them to me, made herself a part of me, and me a part of her.

I don’t need to worry about trusting her anymore.

So lonely that it physically hurts: “Yeah! We should hang out more often 😊”

I’m a big fan of that post-laundry feeling when you’ve got all your A-list clothes back in the game.