Nov 26, 2024
"slut era" they whisper to themselves as they mix nitrogen rich fertilizer with kerosene and motor oil
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"slut era" they whisper to themselves as they mix nitrogen rich fertilizer with kerosene and motor oil
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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howl by allen ginsberg
me explaining the plot of supernatural
roses can prick
violets are indigo
I may seem sapphic
but I also like men u know
HELLO TUMBLR first post thats not against my will it was originally an Aggie.io with my boothang @vampirebobux but I cropped it >:33
daddy, oh daddy you bastard im through
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I'm at this point in my life where, the place I live, who I am, what I do, doesn't feel difficult enough. Now, hear me out. I've had true toxicity before. I've been surrounded by cruel, apathetic people who never knew kindness in the first place and I hated that. What I'm asking for is just a little more...challenge. I feel too privileged. I need hardship, I need to earn my rest, I need to work for it. Otherwise, I don't deserve it. Why should I have rest when I haven't done anything for it? I shouldn't.
I need to dirty my hands, I need to work until my very bones ache from exhaustion, I need to be clinging to sanity by a thread and on my knees by my bedside every night praying that the next day will be easier even though I secretly hope it won't be.
I need the safe reprieve of my Liege's command, the comforting discomfort of the ship's hammocks, the easy paranoia of a Victorian poet. I need to be so busy the only moments I have to myself are the moments I get knocked unconscious. I need to be exhausted to the point of pain, overworked just before the point of death, bottled full of constant fear and depression--
Just so that My Liege may pet my iron gauntlets, so my captain may praise me for my hard work, so my darling angel may caress me in their drug-like love, so I can finally earn my rest, my praise, and their love.
Ya know?
i've reached the extent of your love and yet i am still not fixed.
sometimes, depending on how the waves form, i feel like i am floating through space. the bubbles begin to look like stars and the depths begin to feel infinite; like if i keep swimming i will find other universes just like this one full of people who hope for something more and i will be it.