All of these things society does actually makes me feel suicidal
Who cares about those studies by those smarty-pants scientists?! There’s this guy, okay? He’s a 5’2” balding janitor, and he is
drenched in mucus. His bulging, bloodshot eyes are nearly bursting, their rims lined with thick, yellowish mucus that crusts over his sagging eyelids, forcing him to blink sluggishly as strands of goo stretch between his lashes. His raw, decaying skin is covered in deep, cracked fissures that ooze slimy, greenish-yellow mucus, dripping down his gaunt, hollowed cheeks in thick, viscous trails. His misshapen, swollen nose bubbles constantly with putrid mucus, a never-ending flow of green and yellow slime spilling over his upper lip, where it pools at the corners of his mouth before sliding down his chin. His cracked and swollen lips are caked in layers of hardened mucus, and every time he parts them, sticky strands of congealed slime stretch between his jagged, decayed teeth, clinging to his blackened gums, which are slick with pus and thick, rotting saliva.
His tongue, coated in a thick film of mucus, flicks through the sludge in his mouth, mixing with the gelatinous ooze that seeps from his throat with every wet, gurgling breath. His matted, greasy hair is stuck together in clumps, the strands held firm by a glue-like secretion of sweat and mucus that dribbles down his scalp, pooling at the nape of his neck. His ears, twisted and covered in pus-filled sores, leak a cloudy, mucus-like fluid that trickles down in slow, slimy rivers, matting the few stray hairs clinging to his temples. His gaunt, withered body is
drenched in a perpetual sheen of mucus, the thick, slimy substance seeping from every peeling, infected patch of flesh, congealing in the folds of his sagging skin, and trailing down his skeletal frame in long, glistening strands. His ribs, barely concealed beneath his thin, rotting flesh, glisten with a slick coating of yellowish slime, each breath sending fresh waves of mucus oozing from between them.
His bony, trembling arms are lined with open sores that weep thick mucus, his fingers coated in a sticky film that leaves slimy fingerprints on everything he touches. His stomach, hollow and caved in, is slick with a layer of translucent slime that dribbles down his sides, pooling in the creases of his sagging waistline before dripping in slow, syrupy globs onto the floor. His legs, frail and unsteady, glisten with mucus that oozes from his knees and ankles, leaving behind a slippery, putrid trail wherever he steps. Even his feet, cracked and calloused, are soaked in a gelatinous layer of slime that squelches between his toes with every step, leaving puddles of mucus in his wake.
He reeks of rot, his breath a humid wave of festering mucus and decay, his voice a wet, gurgling rasp as thick mucus bubbles up from his throat. Every motion sends fresh rivulets of slime trailing from his body, dripping onto the ground, where they pool into thick, glistening puddles of greenish-yellow filth… but he
dates models!
