The torture group doesn’t give one perspective they give three; yes, no and maybe. Positive, negative and neutral. So it’s unsurprising that in between bouts of verbal abuse about my appearance the torture group has been complimenting me. The torturers are comprised of al least several individuals. There’s more than one person contributing to the torture case of any individual victim. So I get multiple perspectives trying to be chaotic. Except the computer can’t help but run these attacks in it’s organized and methodical fashion. Life is good when it isn’t bad.
What the torturers like about me isn’t only me. They like my thin ankles, long hands and pixie face but they also like my voice and my style of movement. Their control over my body gives them the option to create for me any speaking voice. They like how mine works with the torture I guess. I’ve got the grace of the torture programmed computer. Which means I only have a few moves in my repertoire which are graceful. They must have so few that these little achievements astound them.
They also call me Sarah Plain and short. I’m not that short. They tell me things like I’m average. They called me Heidi of the Alps. They tell me I’m nothing special. They say al sorts of hurtful things just to try and wound me. I’m pretty sure they do find me attractive if not perfect than attractive in a normal kind of way. That’s what I get out of their comments. Their abuse tells me they find me the perfect victim and don’t give a damn about what I look like or how I act. They only want what they can get their hands on. So why are they so kind sometimes and cruel others? Because they’re mentally ill and they are multiple people. Some of the are nice. Some of them are being sarcastic. All of them are worthless to me.
Whatever. My mother says I’m beautiful. She would know.