Every night ive dreamed of a flayed woman in my bathtub. She sits there, submerged waist high in a mass of her own sliced flesh splashing her near-skeletal hands in and out of the frothy remains, and looks at me with a smile. Excitedly playing in the delight of flesh becoming an object separate from oneself and completely discernible from the whole. The flesh is old and has become grey, far more than could have possible come from her and yet it is all from her. She stands up, moving without muscle only slight tendon on her bones and crawls out of the tub and runs through the yard, dancing in joy at that holy release, at that ability to finally be free

IF YOU DIED TOMORROW I WOULDN'T BE AT YOUR FUNERAL BECAUSE I'D BE WATCHING.

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first

you're cool

DAT BREEN

I didn't know you played Terraria, too. :D