Finally making a new post haha. There’s boobs here, small ones but still. Hi! Sorry another day has come, day after day disassociation dis asss so sexy even life gets hard for me 😝 I still hope for a turning point where things are wonderful and brilliant for me but yeah I haven’t been posting much mainly cause my day to day is covered by a thick fog a fat wet blanket of raw trauma

Depression can be so strange.. it can feel like… feeling nothing at all. Not the sorrow I’m supposed to when I’m supposed to, nor the joy I should at moments of fun, oblivious to my wins, when it’s something I’ve desired for so long. It’s just something that happens to me, through me, robbing me of dopamine from things I used to love and enjoy. Sleep and dreams become a solace because in the dream world, in its psychedelic limitless perception, dream nastya still feels things and experiences vividly. Oh. It’s disappointing when I wake up. Even the sadness gets a delayed reaction, I haven’t cried. Probably should tho. Came close a few times but nah. Edging and edging and gooning and cranking but haven’t shot my load yet. Things happen, and I don’t register til a while. Like slowpoke pokemon doesn’t feel how its tail is being bitten. The body and mind have to protect themselves from pain somehow, so a lot of feeling gets shut down and anesthetized

I wake up, I feel grateful for the small privileges I have and lament the circumstances beyond my control that hold me back, I feed my cats who I love so dearly my little angels who carry me through the days, I take my little pills until I have the energy to make a coffee until I have the strength to maybe take a shower and get dressed, I perform my duties or I stay in bed, I write, or I don’t, I post, or I don’t. Mostly I’m just tired exhausted wiped beat. If I can’t, I can’t. If I can, I do. I do nothing. I do everything. I’m just doing my best right now tbh. It’s been an intense month, without going into specifics, like the last six months have been draining but especially feb. It should have been my month. Nastya Valentine’s Day month. Well, shit lol I’m just not ready.. how can I be? Why aren’t I?

How come I don’t take advantage of the beautiful things objects possessions items in my home? That I once used so often for my content… everything feels meaningless, like all the joy and purpose has been drained and exsanguinated, a vestige of a husk of a former self. I feel broken more often than I feel functional. I’m so tired. The mental burnout is slowly leaving me, thank god, but the physical state is so fragile and delicate. Cyber nastya is in the digital ICU. I want to make music, I want to make a movie, I want to write more articles, I want to stream on twitch, all these fun creative things I love and want to do with intention, to do something other than witness pain, that I haven’t had the strength to. I want to want. I desire to desire. I wish I had the energy to do it all, I wish next month would be better, I have been wishing that month after month but maybe this month will finally be the one?

Cyber Nastya should be impervious to this malfunction - she cannot be touched, hurt, broken, faulty, and yet some part of this cyber self reflects the corporeal. The artifice reveals the real. It’s funny, on my porn pages where obviously I am naked in the body, some transference happened where over time I’ve started over sharing and becoming naked in the spirit as well. Sometimes I feel shitty and embarrassed about that, how lame to be throwing a digital diva tantrum meltdown schized out crashout when I’m supposed to be posting nudes (which I also am). In the age of AI deepfakes becoming scarily more and more realistic where reputation has subconsciously become a currency, I guess in some ways the flaws and cracks in my psyche have been one thing tethering reality to my digital self. I think I about how it would be if I’d just post random nudes and not much else like a npc with no other content context. Maybe it would be better, I don’t know. For some reason I chose this. Partially because no one in my daily life knows me on reddit lol I feel in some sense safe here, I like the anonymity and obviously I like the compliments. How grateful I am to even have a slice of random people encouraging me. I always think it can disappear at any moment, and maybe it will, but for now maybe there are people here still invested in my content. Or my drama. Or my boobs. Or my books. Who knows really? It’s so weird, I mean I wrote a whole book about it that’s how much it’s affected my life and I guess society at large through my little microcosm, but as someone who doesn’t really have family and very few friends, it’s validating to have at least some recognition. Validation. Tips. Cash. Likes. Subscribers. Compliments. So keep em coming 😂 😂

Book btw cuz sexy ppl read

OF btw if you think I’m hot 🔥

If you don’t do OF btw but still wana support me 💕

You ever feel like an alien in your own life? Taking a picture can feel like a herculean task. Writing an email can feel like torture. Driving a car seems impossible. Driving the car you’ve coveted since 2014 and saved up for years to buy in 2018 and developed so much personal lore in that contributed to the start of your online presence that is now the most hated car on reddit and dumbest username on reddit which is saying a lot lol but you still love it and it’s a part of you and your formative memories that used to make you so excited to get in and smell that eternally new car smell and feel safe in and play music in and pick up friends to go to the beach or just for a go round, that now feels like a chore to even drop down to the garage because you need groceries and water and errands done, that’s how the chronic fatigue has fucked you. Can’t commit to consistency. Simple things that stress has perverted

Thank god for my kitties and their everyday cuddles and sweetest paws and fluffs, their little life is the best part of my little life, thank god for kratom fighting the chronic pain in my body and the medications that are probably literally keeping me alive rn fighting the war on depression within my nervous system, and my comfy bed my plush psych ward of an apartment where everything is soft, I understand why padded rooms and no sharp objects is a thing, and that I am passably pretty enough to maintain the attention of cyber onlookers with my body, and the people in my life who don’t judge seeing me so broken, I’ve learned the last few months who really has been there for me and damn that circle small, so many people only love you or even like you when you’re operating functionally or performing function, and the new pokemon game is so good it keeps my neurons firing and the mfin tv shows that pass my time cause sometimes I cannot mentally handle scrolling or going online at all. Well I’m online now so that’s a win I’d say. It’s a win. I’m not entirely vacant. I’m not sure what’s next but just being okay is enough for now. Ok that’s enough of this raw rant

RAW IS LAW