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Hello, my name's Merlin.
I'm a cosplayer, writer, imagineer, nature lover and photographer.
Please feel free to check out my Gallery and my cosplay page: Secret Cosplayer
[my other D.a is 13-lethal-kisses (this is a private one though)
Feel free to follow me on Instagram too!: instagram.com/secretcosplayer
That is the word that would best describe me. Sin. The vile act upon which is covered in me from head to toe. Sin; lays on me like blood in a bath. The painful rips of it, but the pleasures it delivers are too much. Sin is that which makes me shiver, yet warms the very insides of me.
Too much, yet not ever enough. Drowning and gasping for air, but breathing fine. Sin, welcomes me with open warm arms; crushes me, but it’s not all pain. It’s a desire but also burden.
To what should I call you then?
Once I was young. Once I was dirty but fairly innocent, now I am older and covered in it. Drenched in Red; it’s mostly what I see. To how does one feel anything but Sin?
How does one was it from you? Wash it from your very being? Wash it from your soul?
Is there ever a turning back? When the road is so far? To which way does one go?
Sin was there from the very beginning knocking on my door.
“Don’t open that door” mama used to tell me, so instead I’d listen to the knocks, stare at the door [when I wasn’t being distracted with things].
But then one day I heard a voice: “There’s nothing wrong. I will not come to hurt you. But instead, I wish to show you something else.”
Curious by what was said, I slowly approached the door. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I unlocked the hatch and turned the knob. With a rush of wind, the door flew open, and that is when I first saw the color Red. A scary figure cloaked in Red and white, reached out his hand to me. “Come” he said. “Let me show you something you’ve never seen before.” And before I knew it, I found myself reaching out to his hand and taking it. I was hesitant and afraid. I looked back at the white door to my house and thinking about mama. “There is no need to be afraid, dear child. Now let your mind wander and let your eyes open to see what has not yet been seen.”
And That is all I remember.
How sad it is to live in such a harsh world.
How utterly peaceful it is to not feel a thing.
Because nothing is left. Or was there even anything to begin with?
They strip you down and tear at your flesh like hungry cannibals until your nothing but the bare bones.
You try to get up, but they snarl and beat you back down. Crunching under their foot. The bones are breaking. So you scream out, but you have no voice. They mask your mouth to quiet, so no one may hear you.
And when it;s too late, they go on but not before saying “What a shame” as if they actually cared, when only in reality, it makes them look better.
Why care about the dirt under your foot? Why care about what you step on?
Why pretend to care at all?