bright eyed honeys with their designs
At that very moment, you’re no longer an individual entity; your essence weaves into the melody and the vibrations through your body align with the rhythm, your brain waves fall in step with the tide
I don’t know if that’s the deal with everybody else.. my suspicions are that it isn’t.. for them, isn’t it just another intoxicant, a spot of background music?
I feel it’s visceral.
I wish the same structure I’m attempting to inject into my wardrobe would manifest itself summarily in my life.
although I don’t have my ears pierced, I don’t think it’s something I’ll push. Dyed hair, yes, tattoos and piercings 80 to 20 no.
you know what I adore, the violet iridium lenses that oakley produces. but none of their frames work for me. woe betide.
I still have hushed whispered discussions with myself about diamantes. I’m starting to turn to them, but for the most part the thought of a gaping abscess lusting after its runaway resident turns my stomach, a tad.
imagine all monochrome with this bamf baby
hello my sexy would you like to crawl under my bedsheets and let me stroke your soft skin
oh baby you’re so smooth and succulent
yes edm may be visceral but bags are sexual
I really have nothing to say about these apart from that they’re sold out on solestruck and that really renders my soul a little cracked I feel like voldemort after he’s seen hepzibah’s cup
weekend getaway can we run away somewhere and get lost in places more than each others’ eyes
something’s got to give, and at the moment it’s a lot of pink and regrettable shops, I think I’d rather give it all away than make a measly profit
need plum pants and knits how does one pronounce knuts like kanoots or nuhts
gorgeous as you are, you make me sick.
cheesy cheeky looking awry
salivating you beautiful bowl
I will do this healthy eating thing.
printing this out and putting it on the wall like I do the corpses of my dreams and dashed hopes
at the crossroads intersections forks and dead ends
scale the wall and flee the fences
pyongyang where it at bitchez
shit dat cray
take a look at yourself and can you honestly tell me you are proud of who you are and you do not believe you have deficiencies to be plugged
strolls and soul-searching
yunno I wish I lived in a city which didn’t sleep, then I could do the whole baseball cap and hoodie thing and not be fearful of attackers in shadows
dappled reflections and imitations of gold
there was something much more authentic though
gilded over and coated with excess