Plagued by motifs, symbols, and most of all, by tiresome haunting refrains,
yeah sex is nice and stuff but have you ever had a girl call you baby
Reporting live from the fucking gutter sis
shoutout to that underlying sense of unease that’s made a home in my bones
if i got stigmata i would not devote my life to god and simply carry on as usual. so what there’s holes in my wrists. it’s a tuesday.












