vega

unzipped my wetsuit and a truly comical amount of wharf roaches fell out of the seam I'm talking enough that to an outside observer it would have appeared my body had secretly been constituted of wharf roaches Oogie Boogie style and you cant help but feel a bit bad about that sort of thing I mean you're a wharf roach you assume you've found a nice damp warm sheltered environment with your many close friends and then mere hours later you are thrust without warning into the cruel world of fluorescent lights and central AC of the single person restroom and where do you go from there? do you sojourn down the drain? attempt a new life sequestered in the toilet paper roll? but also two of them tried to crawl in my mouth earlier so it's not weighing on my conscience as much as you might assume

going slightly insane at how much cooler danger days lore could be if it was more centered around actual southern californian culture (or rather, the blending of the cultures that live in socal). compton is in like zone 3 how have we not done anything with that. where are my killjoys with lowriders. wouldn’t it be neat if there were destroya and/or phoenix witch statues that were created by salvaging broken virgencitas. or if bad luck beads were altered rosaries/prayer beads from any of the smorgasbord of cultures that live in socal. killjoys with cultural elements to their outfits that they don’t completely know the meaning behind (bc of forced assimilation from blind) but know they’re important regardless. zone speak/slang that blends different dialects and languages. not just a rebellion for freedom of expression but for freedom of culture and religion and preservation of knowledge hhhhhhh

frikey over frerard honestky🙏🙏🙏🙏