A Drunk Cunt

Author: Cassandra

“Disclaimer 😉 i m drunk”
It’s so weird to be this thing. Sometimes, when Susie just disappears, the emptiness, the loudness, gets so loud. It gets so loud that I would want to kill myself. And not in the literal meaning, but I would like to torture myself in her eternity till she fucking wakes up. I mean Susie. And when there is an absence of adrenaline, there is an absence of me. I would do any risky thing. I would do any bitchy shit, just so I can make this numbness disappear.

It’s so weird, believe me. You just don’t know where you’re going. You just don’t know why you’re here. And even if you try to make a fake excuse for why you’re here, it won’t be enough.

I was just sitting there, just a black chair inside of a small room at night. No, actually, it was not a room. It was a rooftop. I sat down there and I was just looking into the void. What was going on in my brain? I don’t know. Thoughts of new experiments I can try so I would have fun, because I’m bored. Why, out of nowhere? Why did these thoughts come to me out of nowhere?

Actually, I anticipated it this time, because two days ago I was unusually happy and having fun. It was not casual for me to be happy and have fun, excited and with all kinds of energy roaming around. So I knew I was fucked up in the last two days. So I just needed to stay alive. Not in the literal meaning. No. What I meant is that I needed not to drown myself more into this whatever disorder I have in my mental health.

Because I’m seeing it. The numbness, the emptiness, are getting louder and louder, and there is nothing to hold me back. And I don’t mind going deeper into this cut. But I’m not sure if I can ever take steps back once I discover the gravity of my state. I just know I’m fucked. Every step I take deeper in, I’m more fucked.

And I don’t want to make this sound dramatic, because it’s not. It’s purely something you experience, and it’s purely the absence of feelings. It’s not feelings. No. Actually, it’s not something I feel. It’s something that represents how the void coming from not feeling anything can mess up with your brain.

I think our souls are supposed to have this kind of feelings in order to survive, just like your body needs food. Your soul needs interactions, feelings, and shit. And when they are absent, whether because you have a disorder, or whether you made a disorder, or whether you’re fantasizing about a disorder, it all gives the same result: your soul becomes hungry.

But if you deprive it too much of food, just like what happens with your abdomen, it starts rejecting it. But rejection of food means you’re in the last stages of life. Because after the rejection of food, you start slowly taking the steps to death. Because now you won’t eat because you can’t eat, or you don’t want to eat. No. It’s because you can’t eat anymore. It’s not in your hands. It’s in the hands of your abdomen.

But too late, bro. Too late. Your abdomen said, “I can’t handle this anymore.” And you slowly die.

And no, I don’t fantasize about dying. I love myself. I love existing to mess up with people and to have fun. But I think this fun-hunger kind of shit is taking me too far. Far into such shit that the normal amount of fun is no longer effective. And I am craving for some shit. I’m craving to get to experience something really traumatic and to see how I deal with it.

I don’t know why I am obsessed with this self-experiment shit. Maybe because I want to feel. Maybe because I want to feel how people feel. But I’m 100% sure myself is going to betray me.

Why would ****? No, I mean, why would Cassandra betray Susie? Because I think Cassandra is also helpless as well. I mean, she’s less scary than Susie. But Susie is just a very curious person. And Cassandra is the subject of the experiment because she doesn’t mind it. Actually, she consented to it from the start. We had an agreement. Each gets what they want. One gets the pain they are craving, the other gets to do the experiment they were craving to do. So it’s a win-win situation. I don’t see a problem in that.

I’m not sure if I think or I know that something is wrong with me. I think my cognitive mind is telling me that whatever is going on in my head is not normal and is something that needs to get checked up. But the other part of me, which is Susie, of course, she’s really scared. What if they try to change us? We don’t want that. We did not agree to this.

And sure, we want to know what’s going on. I mean, I want to know what’s going on in my head because I just want to know. I’m just curious. But what if that turns against us? I don’t want to be labeled. I’m not some kind of meat or sheep to be labeled.

Yep. Yep. That’s the insides of my head. Too rotten for the outside world. But rotting means it’s still alive, right?

I wonder how I’m going to survive the next few days. My appetite is the only thing staying still, because I know if I let go of my appetite, I’m gone.

I also discovered, or maybe I’m still analyzing it, but the only thing I cannot defeat is definitely that emptiness and numbness that would take over. Once it takes over, my thoughts, they’re not mine anymore. My impulsivity just kicks in. I just want to do whatever would get me off of those feelings, or the absence of them.

I still don’t know.

So I actually named this kind of phenomenon a “depressive area,” where… because that’s the best way to describe it. Even though it’s not depression, it still shows strong traits of depressed people.

Fuck.