everyone always makes oral fixations so sexual. and honestly i usually dont care, but for whatever reason that bothers me. my oral fixation feels more like repetative comfort* sometimes its the chewing, like i so wish that it was socially acceptable to chew on gum all the time, sometimes i just rub my cheeks so i can feel the way my mouth moves on the inside like that. its hard because i hate spit that much. even my own, at least when its outside my mouth .

I guess repetative comfort is sort of like a sub type of stimming, its where i just do similar/the same action over and over for some reason. Like i have all sorts of music posters on my wall, theres even a noah khan one im yet to put up, so i just take down poster after poster, and its soothing to do that over and over, and i feel a lot better when i do. (i have since added it, plus others, i should add pictures at some time of my poster wall, i have a swans one i really like)

not much to add here, i hate spit. you could get down and take a shit right in front of me and i think id be more grossed out if you spat on the ground. im dead serious, if you spit in front of me i will go seventh cup wild even if im grossed out. i hate it that much, it awakens some pre-history moneky brain bullshit hard wired into my grey matter that makes me go 'gross, i need to kill that thing'

You know whats weird? I'm not grossed out by much, it's more the feelings or textures that I hate. like my toilet tank has some kind of build up problem, my only guess is that something was in the water or something got in the tank, or hell maybe something just started to build up while I was away, but its weird, chunky and slimy. I think maybe iron build up of some kind? Nothing I cant fix at the end of the day, and the build up itself doesnt really bother me from a cleaning perspective. but touching it? ew, god, no. not even that its dirty, its nothing I cant wash off my hands, but I just dont like it. my sensitivity to texture and feel probably goes hand and hand with my oral fixation in a way, hence me typing this here, on the mouth page. im gonna buy some heavy duty rubber or latex gloves for cleaning soon, i think that will make the whole ordeal easier.

you wanna know something weird, reader? if i die, i think id want to die screaming, like its ending number three in my top ten states to reach at the moment of death. i know i have an addictive personality, and an unending boredom of the subconcious (one lyric that i wish id thought of first every time i hear it is from flagpole sitta by harvey danger (fantastic band by the way), the voices inside my head are snoring, thats fantastic), but i think i enjoy being afraid, its a lot like bleeding, its probably not good for you, but it can give you a moment where you remember the blood in your veins mean youre alive. like i love getting blasted and getting scared, its great. im going to start singing in front of people, not like breaking out into song but just singing whatevers in my head, because singing in front of people scares me, and i want to be afraid.

self harm is one of those icky topics that even in the correct clinical contexts people dont like talking about it (i took one psych class in college, i really enjoyed it but i did sort of know that that sort thing was a cold door to me, but the mention of self harm was breezed down to just "yeah sometimes its a sign of mental distress not like, killing yourseld, anyway") but i dont know, i think im so natrually disconnected with my body (i think of it more like a car or a cool pen) and morbid that sometimes i just do it to do it. weird i know, even someone as allegedly desensitized as me felt uncomfortable writing that, but sometimes hurting myself is just like scratching a deep itch. if i was a real unafriad artist i would give myself a whole sleeve of intricate scars on my arm, but i fear i would never get hired anywhere ever and sorry karl marx, but i like money.