— ʜᴀɴ-ᴊᴀᴇ

it does me no good; violence has changed me. my body has grown cold like the stripped fields; now there is only my mind， cautious and wary， with the sense it is being tested.

pure–black death and an angel’s embrace.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒄𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒉𝒐𝒍 are the only things at make me feel alive .

you know this is 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 , right .ᐣ ╱ well , yeah , that’s what makes it 𝒇𝒖𝒏 .

you’re a heap of flesh and guts and blood in a wax museum. the only thing real. sickeningly real. crimson and warm where the others are pale and cold. revoltingly red, nauseatingly alive. you’re a child in a graveyard.

somewhere inside me is a merciful， forgiving person. somewhere there is a person who accepts that people do evil things and that desperation leads them to darker places than ever imagined. but if i saw them， i wouldn't recognize them.

betrayal doesn’t rot you, instead, it rebirths you.

It smells like plants and dirty socks ...

huffing .. looking at him with faux sadness, giving dramatic pout. "c'mon, if you help me out, i know some pretty powerful people out there who could get you a lot of money," is said as they lean in slightly, accepting the tray.

"strange way of giving me attention, but .. okay."