A Lingering Fear Within My Heart: Difference between revisions
(Several changes. That mirror effect now only spans one paragraph as I felt it overstayed its welcome among other stuff. This might actually be final.) Tags: Mobile edit Mobile web edit Advanced mobile edit |
(Consistency: made an instance of the word "mirror" flipped like the other instances.) Tags: Mobile edit Mobile web edit Advanced mobile edit |
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Something's wrong. Something's very wrong. I honestly can't tell you. I... I don't feel comfortable telling you. It still eats at <span style="display:inline-block;transform:rotate(-10deg)">me every</span> day, like a <span style="display:inline-block;transform:rotate(180deg)">cat</span> eating lasagna.
<div style="width:
It scares me, like <span style="display:inline-block;transform:scale(100%,300%);">a cat sprayed</span> with water. Afraid to become the meal of a bigger animal. Afraid that I'm out of the watchful gaze of Lucifer and now am stared upon by the malevolence of God.
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<div style="float:left;width:10em;height:10em;rotate:-90deg;padding-bottom:1em">It feels as if the world is inverting on me, like it's taunting me, almost. It's sick. I feel sick. Weak. Frail.</div><!-- 180 deg should be fine for non-square things -->
<p>
Still, it cannot be overstated. I must step forward. I must face this. I can do it. It's not like it will kill me, right? My heart pounds with vigour like it's an engine ready to drive. My gaze steadies as I calm down. I step towards the <span style="display:inline-block;transform:scale(-1 ,1);">mirror</span>, ready to face this once and for all...
</p>
... It's a <span style="display:inline-block;transform:scale(1.25,1);">mother</span><span style="display:inline-block;transform:scale(1,2);">fucking</span> salmon in a <span style="display:inline-block;transform:skew(20deg,1deg);">fucking</span> top hat. This was the shit I was afraid of? I'm a fucking catgirl and I'm afraid of what's essentially tonight's dinner? I can't even fucking make this up.
<div style="height:10em"> </div>
<div style="rotate:25deg;width:25em">I'm out. If you want to contact me, email at LilacDewsbury@gretelheart.com<ref group="notes">Not a real E-mail</ref>. I'm fucking out. Good day.</div>
<div style="height:10em"> </div>
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'''Notes:'''
<references group="notes" />
{{by-user|Zaenon}}
[[Category:Trollpasta]]
[[Category:Satire]]
[[Category:Animulz]]
[[Category:WHAT A TWIST!]]
[[Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck]]
[[Category:Shortpasta]]
[[Category:WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT]]
{{Comments}}
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Latest revision as of 23:22, 3 October 2023
Something's wrong. Something's very wrong. I honestly can't tell you. I... I don't feel comfortable telling you. It still eats at me every day, like a cat eating lasagna.
It scares me, like a cat sprayed with water. Afraid to become the meal of a bigger animal. Afraid that I'm out of the watchful gaze of Lucifer and now am stared upon by the malevolence of God.
I can feel it pulsing, the trauma's heart beating with life, pumping terror through my veins that it claims for its own.
Yet at the same time, I feel hopeless, like I'm at the bottom of the sea, chained down with brass chains with no hope to resurface. Like the mirror had taken my soul and shattered it like glass. I still fear that I'll never be able to tell anyone what I must overcome. Especially you.
Still, it cannot be overstated. I must step forward. I must face this. I can do it. It's not like it will kill me, right? My heart pounds with vigour like it's an engine ready to drive. My gaze steadies as I calm down. I step towards the mirror, ready to face this once and for all...
... It's a motherfucking salmon in a fucking top hat. This was the shit I was afraid of? I'm a fucking catgirl and I'm afraid of what's essentially tonight's dinner? I can't even fucking make this up.
Notes:
- ↑ Not a real E-mail
Written by Zaenon
Content is available under CC BY-SA
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