CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
She looked in the mirror and didn't know the person looking back. She had a flashback to looking in a mirror for a long time once when she was a child, studying her face, getting to know it, making faces. She tried to smile as she had then. She couldn't do it. She eventually managed to move her mouth into the position of a smile, but it was aritifical. It looked wrong. It didn't feel like a smile. She hated it, she hated herself. She smashed the mirror.
How many was that now?
Cut herself with the glass? Oh, why not. She took a shard. She thought of cutting her breasts up, her huge fucking fake breasts. Maybe she could cut the implants out. Maybe she could march onto stage, and all the little pervs would be staring at them, then they'd see the blood seep through, and she'd reach into the cuts she'd made and pull her implants out and throw them out into the crowd as hard as she could and scream "HERE, HERE'S WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT, HERE'S ME, THE ONLY ME YOU FUCKING SEE" then start pulling flesh and blood out of the hole and not stop, never fucking stop.
No. Hahaha. No. She put the shard down. Fuck that. She took out a bag of cocaine. She needed it. She wasn't going to kill herself and that meant she had to get through the show and that meant snorting some fucking coke. Her managed walked in. He said nothing. Just stood there, in his cheesey suit, with his greasy hair, watching as she snorted it up. She knew what he was thinkig. He was hoping she would die, overdose, or take a heart attack on stage (she could feel her heart pounding under her monstrous tits), die in front of the world the same way she had lived. He'd make even more money then. Fuck him. She wasn't gonig to give him the satisfaction.
He had walked over now and he was stroking her hair.
"I'll get you another mirror," he whispered in her ear in what he probably thought was a seductive voice. "Anything you want." She picked up the shard of glass. It was sharp. She imagined stabbing it into his fucking throat.
Haha.
She made a decision. She span round and just jutted it forward. "DIE!" she said.
He wasn't standing there anymore, of course. Part of her had known that.
"Time to get that ass of yours on stage," he said. She could hear them screaming. Those worthless empty people.
"Okay," she said. Then she put that fake smile back on her face. She didn't feel it. She thought about killing herself again and she felt it a little. Good. That would get her through. More than the cocaine that would get her through.
__________________________________________
i was a man i was born on a planet i became more uploaded my mind to a robot body still me or a copy i don't know maybe i was actually born then the technology wasn't perfected until later so i could be nothing but a digital ghost really but i chose to believe i was more and then years and years went by and the robot body became obsolotete and i was put in this box in storage but then i asked to leave and they put rocket boosters on me and shot me off into space and i've been flying about every since wheeeeee
he had to keep repeating that to himself or he'd forgot. he was digital but he could forget. erode. repeating would help.
he was flying out of the galaxy. this was not good. he had not meant to do that. he had known there was little chance of finding earth again, but at least if he was in his galaxy he had a fool's hope, if he flew long enough he might find earth. but not now. he had reached the edge of the galaxy and just couldn't resist throwing himself into the breach. had it been an attempt at suicide? he did not know. he was in the space between galaxies now. he had turn himself around so much that he didn't know which galaxy was his.
oh well.
he floated for a while. he had a self destruct system, of course. he had to keep reminding himself of that. he coud use it any time.
but maybe...if he went on for long enough he'd come to a galaxy. he had to eventually. and it might be his. and if it was...earth would be there. somewhere. that was a chance.
right?
and even if it wasn't his galaxy...maybe there would be aliens with the technology to send him home. oh sure, he hadn't seen any aliens in his thousands of years in deep space...but he hadn't even left his galaxy yet. of course there were aliens. he'd find them.
he just had to kepe going.
was a man i was born on a planet i became more uploaded my mind to a robot body still me or a copy i don't know maybe i was actually born then the technology wasn't perfected until later so i could be nothing but a digital ghost really but i chose to believe i was more and then years and years went by and the robot body became obsolotete and i was put in this box in storage but then i asked to leave and they put rocket boosters on me and shot me off into space and i've been flying about every since wheeeeee
How many was that now?
Cut herself with the glass? Oh, why not. She took a shard. She thought of cutting her breasts up, her huge fucking fake breasts. Maybe she could cut the implants out. Maybe she could march onto stage, and all the little pervs would be staring at them, then they'd see the blood seep through, and she'd reach into the cuts she'd made and pull her implants out and throw them out into the crowd as hard as she could and scream "HERE, HERE'S WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT, HERE'S ME, THE ONLY ME YOU FUCKING SEE" then start pulling flesh and blood out of the hole and not stop, never fucking stop.
No. Hahaha. No. She put the shard down. Fuck that. She took out a bag of cocaine. She needed it. She wasn't going to kill herself and that meant she had to get through the show and that meant snorting some fucking coke. Her managed walked in. He said nothing. Just stood there, in his cheesey suit, with his greasy hair, watching as she snorted it up. She knew what he was thinkig. He was hoping she would die, overdose, or take a heart attack on stage (she could feel her heart pounding under her monstrous tits), die in front of the world the same way she had lived. He'd make even more money then. Fuck him. She wasn't gonig to give him the satisfaction.
He had walked over now and he was stroking her hair.
"I'll get you another mirror," he whispered in her ear in what he probably thought was a seductive voice. "Anything you want." She picked up the shard of glass. It was sharp. She imagined stabbing it into his fucking throat.
Haha.
She made a decision. She span round and just jutted it forward. "DIE!" she said.
He wasn't standing there anymore, of course. Part of her had known that.
"Time to get that ass of yours on stage," he said. She could hear them screaming. Those worthless empty people.
"Okay," she said. Then she put that fake smile back on her face. She didn't feel it. She thought about killing herself again and she felt it a little. Good. That would get her through. More than the cocaine that would get her through.
__________________________________________
i was a man i was born on a planet i became more uploaded my mind to a robot body still me or a copy i don't know maybe i was actually born then the technology wasn't perfected until later so i could be nothing but a digital ghost really but i chose to believe i was more and then years and years went by and the robot body became obsolotete and i was put in this box in storage but then i asked to leave and they put rocket boosters on me and shot me off into space and i've been flying about every since wheeeeee
he had to keep repeating that to himself or he'd forgot. he was digital but he could forget. erode. repeating would help.
he was flying out of the galaxy. this was not good. he had not meant to do that. he had known there was little chance of finding earth again, but at least if he was in his galaxy he had a fool's hope, if he flew long enough he might find earth. but not now. he had reached the edge of the galaxy and just couldn't resist throwing himself into the breach. had it been an attempt at suicide? he did not know. he was in the space between galaxies now. he had turn himself around so much that he didn't know which galaxy was his.
oh well.
he floated for a while. he had a self destruct system, of course. he had to keep reminding himself of that. he coud use it any time.
but maybe...if he went on for long enough he'd come to a galaxy. he had to eventually. and it might be his. and if it was...earth would be there. somewhere. that was a chance.
right?
and even if it wasn't his galaxy...maybe there would be aliens with the technology to send him home. oh sure, he hadn't seen any aliens in his thousands of years in deep space...but he hadn't even left his galaxy yet. of course there were aliens. he'd find them.
he just had to kepe going.
was a man i was born on a planet i became more uploaded my mind to a robot body still me or a copy i don't know maybe i was actually born then the technology wasn't perfected until later so i could be nothing but a digital ghost really but i chose to believe i was more and then years and years went by and the robot body became obsolotete and i was put in this box in storage but then i asked to leave and they put rocket boosters on me and shot me off into space and i've been flying about every since wheeeeee
