This is his year.
The inherent homoeroticism of killing your enemy and immediately regretting it
It’s about rage, it’s about obsession, it’s about making that two-person war your entire raison d’être. It’s about loving and mistaking it for hatred and loving and loving and loving to the point of destruction. His or yours, it doesn’t matter. And you think seeing him dead at your feet will make you feel better, but all you feel is a whole lot of nothing.
me and my mutuals
the river styx
whoa oh here she comes
dont forget him
im miss sugar pink liquor liquor lips hit me with your sweet love steal me with a kiss im miss sugar pink liquor liquor lips im gonna be your bubblegum bitch im gonna be your bubblegum bitch
a page of pattern studies