nom de guerre

when lorde said pretty girls dont know the things that i know and when lorde said i care for myself the way i used to care about you and when lorde said ill see the veins of my city like they do in space and when lorde said give the bruises out like gifts and when lorde said we were wild and fluorescent come home to my heart and when lorde said im locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me and when lorde said do you even wanna go free? let me in the ring ill show you what that big word means

i wonder if i will still use tumblr in 5 years

i’m coining a new literary criticism called feralism and it’s when you wildly misread the text as a glamorization of hedonism like how we as a society read the great gatsby and now want to throw banging 20s themed gatsby parties or read the secret history and want to hold a bacchanal. it recognizes literature as a vessel for the repressed human need to just lose your fucking mind.