I mainly post Anime and Manga caps. Sometimes you'll get to see a pretentious text or shitty poem. I'm not a writer/good at it but I sometimes like to write a little anyway.
I’ve changed so much over the past few years that when I look at my belongings, I don’t actually feel like they are mine.
When I think about that moment, I don’t really feel as if it was actually part of my life. It’s like I was merely an observer with no personal connection to what was happening.
The image has burned itself into my mind.
I was… Twelve, maybe. I stood in front of the bathroom, the door was open. The disgustingly green bathtub was on the left side and to the right was the sink in the same atrocious colour. Between those two sat a woman. My mother.
There were police men and ambulance workers around me. I looked at her, saw that her wrist was bandaged up. She seemed to be crying. There was blood.
This is the image I remember. Standing outside the room, looking at her. Then stepping in. Knowing exactly what had happened.
I was calm, not as shocked as you’d expect a child to be in that situation. Not really shocked at all, to be honest. As soon as she noticed me, she spread her arms open, signalling that she wants me to come closer. She hugged me, cried.
She said she was sorry and promised me that she’d never do it again.
She couldn’t keep her promise.
Depressed and horny, I’m truly the face of our generation.