have existential thoughts. like a (9x gp) winner

when you're arvid lindblad and you got a 9 on your maths and chem gcses a year early and you're a former snapchat wyll warrior and you correctly prophesized to lando norris you'd see him in f1 in 5 years and you aura farm every other day and you're nonchalant asf and you're a model by nature and you're on a magazine cover and you're a skateboarder and you're really into fashion and you don't follow the rich millionaire herd that plays golf and lives in monaco and you somehow do this while making your way into the f1 record books and oh you're also like the coolest guy on the grid ok ok we get it

I’m a social vampire u gotta invite me into ur conversation or I cannot enter

I am literally ending it, oh my god. Zero Cycle edit. In this economy.

Tumblr already has a personalization algorithm it's called my beloved mutuals who have great taste and only wish to psychologically damage me sometimes

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to talk to myself on the internet

Nails hair hips heels ass fat lips real purse full big bills bitch I'm a big deal legs legs face eyes thin waist thick thighs you me you wish new phone who this pussy puss puss give them cunt cunt cunt bitch mama yes god when you pop that tongue bitch this whole club is my runway run bitch y'all 5 4 3 2s I'm a 1 bitch girl what did that girl just say girl ooh girl I don't dance I work work I don't play I slay I don't walk I strut strut strut and then sasshay but I don't work for free that's not the tea hunty so make it rain on me and I might let you see watcha gonna let them see