white out.

 [Porta 075]

White Out. A white that is worse than Neverland. No thoughts, no feelings, no noise. No will, no path, no condition.

Jesus, como eu queria achar a chave dessa porta pra trancar ela pra sempre. Pra dar meu sangue pros cães lamberem, pra torcer um pano num ato de ódio.

No communication, no understanding, no pain. To rest with my head on the scorching sun, to punish the act of fake lovers, to throw my body on a hanging cliff. Only inside.

I wanna close that door, forever. Even though I my regret. I want blood to be spilled and love to be killed. To kill. To kill.

DID I ASK FOR YOUR HELP

The problem is not with the help itself, the problem is that is yours. And  I want whatever is yours to wither in the heat, to drown in a fire, to bloom suffocated by thorns.

Whatever. Call me whatever. Is it “whatever is yours”? Is it? Whatever, call me Whatever. Whatever. What ever: will never.

Will never look you in the eye or find joy on a warm hug. Will never love the taste of food or travel with wonder in the eyes.

…Will never look at someone I love and surrender to them. Will never. Whatever. Just to be spit and scorned. Just to be stepped on like a stone to passbyers. I’ll make them trip. I’ll make their toes bleed and burn. I’ll get them from the tip of the longest hair strand and roll around until the end of the knees and chop the rest off

That’s withering. T& d=e. Whatever’s wither. A stepping stone is a stepping stone. An angular stone is an angular stone. I’m neither worthy of the humiliation nor the complete honor, instead just a stoning stone, to kill, to die, and to wither. To send hell, to draw blood, worthy of nothing: white out.

It’s Whatever.

I speak, you speak. I scream, you cry. I listen, you die. Just the motto rolling itself around. You die, I cry. No remorse from it. To kill is to help.

Whatever is “will never”. To let it live will never. To kill is to build a foundation. Whatever is will never. A stoning stone draws blood and then is cast away. A stoning stone keeps it on the inside, never cries for one to see, never ask for help, never act drama out.

A stoning stone’s life is TO KILL. Be this, be that. It’s whatever. I’ll do this, I’ll do that. It's whatever. This happened and this will happen, it’s whatever. You say this and you say that… but it’s whatever. You hurt me but it’s whatever.

White out. No thoughts, no feelings, no wishes, only desire, only mercy, only killing. No communication, no path: White out.

It’s whatever. Call me Whatever.