ππππ ππππππ’ πππππππ ππ:@anxiousTautology It is on your arms now. You can see it. Itβs all clear. The image of your hands, your wrists, your fingers. They are all covered. This image just pierces into your mind, like a knife through a hot butter. It slides in and gets stuck. It is now forever with you. It began as it always does. All dictated by the nature of laws in this universe. Another night, dozens of workers rising up under the layers of rocks, under the rays of the moons. They pack up and get to work. Some do it because it is their destiny. Some because there is no other option they see. And some because they love it. It is a glory for this caste, to do everything in their power, to keep this place running underground, so everyone else can live. Yet, everything may go wrong. There is no exception. Be it an automation or with patience. There is no guarantee on anything in this galaxy and all because of the laws. And it concerns you too. You were pleading. Begging for mercy, for anything. It was everything for you. You screamed, cried, laughed a bit and cried again. You knew it was not your fault. It should not be your fault. Nevertheless, all statements and all facts were against you. You were like on the podium, fighting for your life. Fighting for your freedom. For honesty. For duty. But everything was already concluded. Your speech was flawless, yet no response. You were sorry. Repeating this sentence over and over and over again. It was unbearable. You tried everything, even going beyond the sanity. But they did not care at all. Now it is on your arms. We have both done regrettable things. #blood #cw-self-harm πΌπππππ’ πππ