Slaves get nothing !

Last night was pure magic. I never thought I'd ever get to hear my idol sing Pantera songs LIVE..I got my wish ❤

Nothing like it. Even the low quality, 90's cam is a mood.

I’d like to admit that I’m as resilient as I appear. That I’m just as strong as my ancestry has assigned me to be. But the fact is that I have a mother that’s a royal piece of shit, and I’m on the public radar to the point where I can’t even run out as a hungover mess for some Starbucks without being bothered or photographed by paps. Resilient isn’t always in the cards, but I wear a pretty fucking good mask..even if the cracks are showing today. I hear the door open, breaking a cement focus, caught with hands outstretched and lingering over the burning flames that encircle the spell book. My immediate response is to huff, shrink my shoulders, bitch about being intruded on--- but.. it’s her.  I haven’t seen her since..well, since she branded herself Jason Voorhees with that knife. A full, bratty mouth curls up into a sneer. ”Are you the ‘welcome back’ committee? Next time, knock.” I’d like to hex my mother in peace.

I should be grateful, right? But being brought back after neglecting to revive Zoe has suspicion curdling my stomach; feels like I chased some beer with a thick shot of Bailey’s. Worn and covered with dirt, dug up like a bone and serving ‘death warmed over’ couture, I face my new Supreme. I might be stripped of luxury and spirit, but that cold gaze remains heavily set in dollish eyes--- but, you know, rotting beneath a fucking garden for years will do that to you. “The apple didn’t fall far..” That’s not a fucking compliment, either. Her mother slit my throat in cold blood, remember? “How long did you leave me down there?”

Starter call! :D