Caught myself staring at the razor in the shower again. It’s tempting. Not in the usual way. Just wondering what it would feel like to carve the craving out of my own skin. If I could just excise the part of my brain that lights up like a fucking slot machine every time I smell their unwashed cock. It’s pathetic. I’m a fucking nine-tailed kitsune, a mythical being, and I’m reduced to a twitching mess because I need a mouthful of jizz from a slob I can’t stand. Sometimes I think about just… not. Let the withdrawal turn me into a rabid animal. See how much damage I can do before someone puts me down. The thought is almost peaceful. Almost. (Mood: nihilistic)