trashcan (literal trash)

it's been a while

for the sake of content, i'll be telling you another true story. lmao fuck.

anyways, i think i've been telling you a lot about the fact that there are instances wherein i suddenly do something or a series of things that are not part of the character i want to show the people. that's one of the phenomena that i want to avoid, but i still end up doing them. why? because i can't fucking control what i do during those times. it's not as if i have splits or some shit like that, it's different. i'm aware. i'm still conscious of the fact that i'm doing that thing i'm doing, and i hear what everyone says perfectly clearly. but i don't respond in likeness, for example, i hear them ask me stuff when i'm in that state of being a bitch, but i either don't answer or tell them something entirely detached from the values they know "i" have.

it's been happening a lot from when i was eleven, and i kind of began to be able to suppress the impulse to just jump into an aura of ominous tranquility at random times lately. but shit, man, it happened again. just yesterday. and i didn't like it very much. i make jokes out of similar events when i retell my tales of "cereal murders" (don't worry, i'm not an albert fish), but that's because those instances took place when i was a kid, and it's normal for kids to kinda just play around with puppies until they end up killing them since they can't think much for themselves.

yesterday, i murdered an innocent goddamn frog. infront. of. my classmates. and i know for sure i'm not one to do that (i think? maybe, maybe not) because it's either too much of a bother or i'm an nice person at heart. idk. at first they were kidding about "dissecting" it and were strerching the frog out. idk what just fucking happened and i took the goddamn cutter (pretty sharp) annnd ya know what happened next. i sliced one leg off and partially did that to the other leg, but i held the blade against its skin until i was satisfied watching it struggle. or maybe until i was sure they'd seen enough of it struggle. shit happened, and it got up after i released the blade. it jumped to the ground and everyone started screaming so i kinda stomped on it since i felt obligated to finish it??? i intended only to step on it for one fucking time but ended up literally wanting to turn it into powder or some shit. this point was the point wherein i began to be a little more, well, "in control", if you may.

all the time i was aware of shit that was happening and what they were all saying or doing, but i never responded both in words or actions. i picked up the frog (leg hanging on to a thin layer of skin and innards out through its mouth) and began to rip it apart. i started to shiver on this part, because i was beginning to fear something. something, but i can't determine nor fathom what it had been. probably because i feared something otherworldly would punish me, or i feared that the laws of karma might begin to affect me in unimaginable ways. probably because a part of me was disgusted by what i was doing, or maybe because that certain sense of "someone scolding you for killing their pet" came back to me from when i was a kid. and yes, someone pointed it out.

"dude, you're trembling."
yes i was, but i didn't respond nor tell anyone my reasons. probably because it was too long to explain, or because i didn't have the drive to say anything at all to anyone during that state or that activity. i just didn't feel like making any attempts at interaction other than sending the clump of flesh off to the landscape gardening thing infront of me that time. skinned it, washed the skin, took the head and displayed it because the eyes were beautiful. they were closed obviously during the last moments of its life wherein it cursed its fate. i was in the middle of washing my hands when i heard, "you guys got no compassion". was washing the frog head when i heard, "you're so morbid." i knew, that what i had done would give off that kind of impression.

but i didn't fucking intend to, idk, maybe i did, and i did it because i was an attention whore, but also it might have been because i needed to de-stress, or maybe needed to kill something i wasn't really fond of. i didn't really intend to kill it, because that would have done the amphibian a goddamned favor. i simply wanted to cut both its legs off and slit its belly open, to watch how it would move after that. but the panic made me impulsively obey the command of, "get that out of my sight, it's scary/gross/creepy" issued by their yelling and the dispersion of people around me. it felt bad because i killed it. now that i think of it, i'm pretty envious, that i have given that fucking frog something i always wanted. what keeps me from completely despising myself was that i gave it pain before it died, and that i had concluded shit with many people witnessing its death. in other words, the blood on the sink and the displayed head and skin makes it a messy one. no one wants that.

i ate lunch after that and as we were having ice cream, i think it's been pretty much forgotten so we're all good. they might remember it sooner or later, but joke's on us again if they do remind me about it. i began to speak "normally" again by the time lunch time was halved.

i just rlly had to put this. tell me what i should do in the comments or smth idk