Hi! Few things to start off with =] 1. Yes I added you because you're a female gamer, 'tis an awesome thing to see! 2. I'm Brian. 3. Don't be intimidated, but I'm not a stereotypical guy. If anything, I'll be the one in the kitchen =D.

★Merry★* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★Christmas★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門｜ ˚ ⛄
And a Happy New Year for 2025!

~ Psihusky 💜

+rep Biggest ♥♥♥♥ I've Ever Seen

-rep this guy stinks dont let him in a basement

Visions, a grinding sensation on my side like nails on the chalkboard, a delusion that something might return my normality, only to be revealed a distant mirage unattainable, all owed to this affliction.

I only pray in moments of clarity, until I return to my agony and crazed state. I could never imagine Sisyphus happy. This is no uphill climb. There is no sense of accomplishment in living just another second, and being gifted brief lucidity only further cements the state of my faltering will -- my will to leave this perpetual cycle of static misery.

Even if I return to that beloved state of obliviousness, the true part of my conscious form's voice only becomes muffled, trapped in its own body, as said body only frenzies and glitches.

I can feel my peripherals creep to a TV static. I can not stay in lucidity any longer. But...

A nervous system distressed by its own existence. Synapses decay. Axons bend and pray to empty air. A spinal cord with no true direction on its orders.

I live in a low income housing environment that goes by the government name of "Section 8." Me and a group of my allies control certain areas of this section in order to run our illegitimate business. We possess unregistered firearms, stolen vehicles, mind-altering inhibitors and only use cash for financial purchases. If anyone would like to settle unfinished altercations, I will be more than happy to release my address. I would like to warn you; I am a very dangerous person and I regularly disobey the law.