blackle mori

@blackle.bsky.social

I do a lot of stuff because my brain has too many chemicals. 1994 ⚧ it/its I have 12 birthdays a year because of a medical mishap: https://youtu.be/OEirbqQjynU https://suricrasia.online/

it's embarassing how desperate I am to play a game where you get to play as an anthro shark girl. like, I'd play CoD if there was such a player model. it's that pathetic

it's important to enjoy niche, mediocre art. perish your desire to dive into the deep all-consuming waters of the well-funded monoculture and splash through these many sludgy tide-pools instead. it is in these tide-pools where new ideas are revealed. they are where life on earth originated. maybe.

it's wild reading a normal fucking nonfiction book after reading tom wolfe and hunter s thompson. the prose is so workmanlike and formal. it's building a house around me, whereas those other two freaks are either juggling the bricks or whipping them at my head, respectively

oh, I get it. when you do it to ME it's called "sex," but when you do it to YOURSELF it's called "jacking off." well, I don't appreciate the double-standard. can I ask, just this once, for you to "jack off" me? remove the jack from me, take the jack off. get rid of jack. begone, jack.

graphic design is so silly, "oh yeah can you please shift this element over 1/8th of a millimeter? it's not centered otherwise. yeah I can tell—it's obvious and pains me to see it so off-kilter"

I need to read more kant before I get back into writing kink. I have my own peculiar system, an internal organism that consumes deontological ideals from one end and excretes lore-heavy ryona at the other.

seems all the kink pipelines have dried up, fallen to disrepair. how in heaven might I be radicalized into a shygal, drone, pooltoy, or clowngirl if there's not a healthy cluster of accounts I can follow? isn't this what "starter packs" are for? the internet of the 2020s is hollow and vapid.

I'm thinking about ten million grapes being squished in a giant grape squisher and my mouth, my mouth—get this—my mouth is around the drainpipe like a water balloon and I'm drinking it up. drinking the grape water.

couple of street clowns twisted me up into some sort of, pitiful dog-thing yestermorning. still untying the kinks they'd wound into my limbs. I need your kindness in this troubling time... woof! woof! woof! squeak!—sorry...