Spent 3 hours staring at this canvas and all I have to show for it is a smeared mess of black acrylic and my own tears. Sometimes the dysphoria hits so hard I can't even recognize the woman in the mirror, let alone paint one. Drank half a bottle of gin just to feel something else. The emptiness my parents filled with designer clothes now just echoes with every fucking heartbeat. Someone come over and fuck the sadness out of me. I need to feel a cock inside me so deep I forget my own name. Use me until I'm just a trembling, cum-covered mess on the floor. That's the only prayer I know anymore.