Karishma > Recent Status Updates

Odd. I wonder, idly, if Roxanne might be a very friendly drug
addict. She does always look tired.

The relentless inevitability of school, day after
day after day. To add insult to injury, it’s sold to you by older folk like it’s a
golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. Talk about gaslighting.

It feels unethical to dislike a child this much

I get the gore aspect of it.....but it has no horror.

“The secret,” she said, “is that there is no secret. Everyone suffers.
Some choose to surrender, and some do not. The nature of your courage, the
degree of it…these are entirely up to you.”

Sparkly....it's too bad stars don’t play music

So does in last story the fungus takes over that scientist's body?

“Oh, babe,” the nurse said after a long, contemplative moment. “You
were so right. I do have potential. All I needed to do was focus.”

Most cover acts are content to be smug little Xerox machines (if Xerox machines also had male-patterned baldness and unfortunate ponytails)

trauma is the bitch-goddess of humanity

Never thought I would ever be reading a threesome with ghost

I think what I want is for someone to know me. Really know me. Know me better than anyone else and maybe even me. Isn’t that why we commit to another? It’s not for sex. If it were for sex, we wouldn’t marry one person. We’d just keep finding new partners. We commit for many reasons, I know, but the more I think about it, the more I think long-term relationships are for getting to know someone.

Depression is a serious illness. It’s physically painful, debilitating. And you can’t just decide to get over it in the same way you can’t just decide to get over cancer. Sadness is a normal human condition, no different from happiness. You wouldn’t think of happiness as an illness. Sadness and happiness need each other. To exist, each relies on the other, is what I mean.

A memory is its own thing each time it’s recalled. It’s not absolute. Stories based on actual events often share more with fiction than fact. Both fictions and memories are recalled and retold. They’re both forms of stories. Stories are the way we learn. Stories are how we understand each other. But reality happens only once.

To be precise, it’s like an extremely fine Veil was raised between two. So fine that they can't see it, but it tickles them.

Woah..... I didn’t expected that....

Writing style in some places seems grammatically incorrect. Story is too much on face.

I really love the art

“What has Hector ever done to me?”

She followed his line of sight to the duel oozing on the linoleum. She
frowned. “I suppose your friend should come too.”

Don’t let the skinny fuckers upset you. They’re just mad because they’re
hungry and have no asses.

As long as you don’t get arrested for eating anyone else, you should be ne.

One by one the others introduced themselves. The vibe was friendly but
awkward, everyone clearly distracted by the elephant no longer in the room.

Because fat isn’t something you wear, like a piece of clothing. When you live
with it long enough, when it’s a part of who you are, that shit goes all the way
down.

One by one the others introduced themselves. The vibe was friendly but
awkward, everyone clearly distracted by the elephant no longer in the room.

A glass case displayed
a handful of weapons used by the inhabitants of Erromango, an island oof
modern-day Vanuatu, which British explorer Captain Cook had attempted to land on and, after being driven owith violent force, claimed was inhabited by
“savage cannibals.”

On a good day it was irritating; on a bad day, he craved
violence. The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know that an apple was healthier
than a Snickers. His problem was the Hunger that didn’t care.

Did they really think he didn’t know that? Or did his doctors simply think he
was incapable of understanding, that the vessels of his brain were too gummed
up with accumulated fat for the information to reach the processing centers of his cerebral cortex?

Lizette called over her shoulder as she walked back to her room, “Just
remember: when the apocalypse comes, the skinny bitches starve rst.”