Dolls.
My most favorite object.
How I love them.
Their glossy, often lifeless eyes.
The nightmares induced by them lull me softly to sleep.
Porcelain, resin, plastic.
It’s fantastic.
I adore their unnatural smiles.
Uncanny valley? Who’s she?
I love them all.
Annabelle, Billy, the one just too wonderful to name.
Who has made me traumatized since I was little.
I love him.
And his lifeless eyes which make me freeze up and then quickly scroll away.
I can easily just yeet one.
However, when I see them standing there…
In a dark, suspenseful hallway…
When I’m alone…
They are simply too precious to throw!
I must just leave them alone, running while I sob with delight!
I also adore the different varieties of dolls.
Mannequins.
Marionettes.
Puppets.
Ragdolls.
How I love their auras which so horrifyingly disturb me.
Oh? One of them has a knife?
How delightful!
I will gladly keep my distance.
How nice for it though!
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