this page is not the truth.
specimen: yumesaki / log 03
[log 01.] [missing file]
[log 02.] [removed]
[log 03.] unauthorized photos, recovered 2025.06.16
[log 04.] it's been happening longer than assumed
they wouldn't leave me alone!
i hope i am wrong. i hope i am delusional. but i feel like i have a point. and so you can read this and draw your own conclusion. i'm not going to say anything, but my intention is obvious(?)
the photos are stark. it is an overcast night, in a park or the forest or simply wilderness of some kind, trees and long grass and weeds pushing out of the earth. everything is covered in the ghostly white glow of the dreaded camera flash.
yumesaki is on full display. an animal with its soft belly facing upward. if you slice it open, its guts will spill out
a pleather skirt, black stockings with white lacey torn-look tights stretched over them, black lace arm warmers to hide the shape of the arms, black-painted nails, eyes entirely dark and bruised. from something unkind, no doubt.
sandals, too. they look out of place.
one
knees on the ground. legs bent inward, spread apart slightly. the skirt catches the flash so uncomfortably. body bent over, one hand crudely resting on a thigh.
the other has fingers in the open maw, some attempt at being seductive. it's less "come hither" and more "how to purge". the eyes look dead and abused, and although the body is bent playfully and the chest is bare, it is not a nice sight.
the hair is long and natural. frizzy, but it cascades down the shoulders nicely.
two
kneeling, but raised. the body is stretched to its limit now, long like a cat and very straight, emphasis on the maleness, the outline of the ribcage just barely jutting out near the bottom. the strong flesh on top of it keeps it secure. the armpits are hairless, as are the thighs.
the arms are up restlessly. the hands cover the eyes, almost clawing at the face. we can only see the mouth, which is screaming. a rejection of sight; a rejection of being. one who cannot stand to see oneself.
three
standing. six of them now, but the other five stand indifferent around our focus, who has seen the decency to put a shirt on, or maybe been made to. slouched against a large white cross, arms hanging on either side like a wrestler who has been thrown at the edge of the ring.
chains are draped over the shoulders and arms. they are not holding anything down, but they remain all the same.
why?
the eyes look dead and hopeless although there is much left to do
four
the other five are still, almost guarded, our yumesaki is practically crawling. hands and knees. legs in a W-shape, hand planted between them, body bent forward. a cry for attention.
the face seems nothing but ill. fingers in the mouth again, this time implying "my mouth is dirty". looking beaten and pale and sad, reduced to crawling on the floor. flaunting this sexual deviance even if it hurts to do so, hurts to look at
please do not look too long.
i already looked for you.
if you understand, i am glad. or maybe i am sad for you.
[return]