Current textiles project, can the grotesque ever be beautiful? #mine #textiles
Three Goblin Art
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Not today Justin
Game of Thrones Daily
trying on a metaphor

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AnasAbdin

izzy's playlists!
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pixel skylines
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
i don't do bad sauce passes

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祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Kaledo Art
DEAR READER
Cosimo Galluzzi

roma★
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@cannibalistics
Current textiles project, can the grotesque ever be beautiful? #mine #textiles
Various ‘Flesh Fashion’ pieces by lemaine
crowdsourcing for a black lesbian in an unsafe environment
hi, this is river, or dove as some of you know me. i’m in a bit of a bad spot at home that’s building off the back of years of abuse. i’ve come to terms with the fact that i cannot ensure my safety long term in my current living situation, and so i’ve created a gofundme to help me gather the funds to move out, pay a few months rent in advance, and try to start my life elsewhere. hopefully between the money i raise here, and the little money i make at my job (and hopefully a second job in the future), i can amass enough money to be financially independent outside of my household.
the gofund me link is here, my cashapp is $unwraith, my venmo is @ archethype
any amount helps, and sharing this post / reposting my gofundme across platforms such as twitter and instagram would also help me tremendously. thank you.
- river
Traumspiel - Vogue Germany (1993) Kristen McMenamy by Mario Testino
prompts for those with a reputation.
“ i heard you were back in town. ”
“ you’re not nearly as quiet as you believe yourself to be. ”
“ discretion was never as strong a suit for you as your… other, talents. ”
“ when they first said you were back, i thought they were delusional. now i worry that i’m the insane one. ”
“ they tell me you’re the one to go to for… well. my particular problem. ”
“ you were great. are great. but… you could’ve been legendary. ”
“ people are rather interested in making your acquaintance. ”
“ you know the police are still after you, right? ”
“ look at you. smirk and all, like we should be kissing your feet for existing. ”
“ you’ve gained quite the reputation, you know. ”
“ i’ve seen you. in the news… ”
“ is it true? what they say about you? ”
“ i don’t believe any of it. how can one person manage to pull that off? ”
“ i… i thought you’d be taller, for some reason. ”
“ you might tell me how you did it, some day. perhaps over drinks? ”
“ people would give their right arm just to have a chance at talking to you. ”
“ the entire world knows your name. and still, we whisper it. ”
“ you’re both renowned and a complete and utter mystery. ”
“ goodness. all the rumors about you, and you look… nothing like what i was anticipating. ”
“ everyone who’s anyone knows the story about you. but do we know the truth? ”
“ you really should hear some of the rumors about you. comedic gold… ”
“ well, the stories are obviously all fake. right? ”
because i love gross things yes ethel looks absolutely horrifying while in whatever state u want to call her sort of like . feeding frenzy moment
like for an incredibly vague and maybe short or maybe long (who knows!) starter. maybe
a theme that i think i’ll have fun w exploring on here is that devouring (for ethel) is an extremely personal and thrilling experience... it’s certainly a necessity for herself but she finds her “work”, as she refers to it, quite close to godly & therefore feels little shame for it. in fact, i think, she thinks that because she treats it so cautiously and adoringly, it’s not technically carnage!
Kristen McMenamy at Valentino SS19
— ask meme : THE AMAZING DEVIL, THE HORROR AND THE WILD (2020).
i know the kindest thing is to leave you alone.
i’ve run out of words.
i could try to calm you down, but i know you won’t.
i’ll darn you back together when you think that you’re bereft.
i’ll never stop ‘cause it’s all that i have left.
i pray to god it’s the kindest thing.
it all comes down to you.
you watch the stars hurl all their fundaments at you and yours, forever asking more.
you are that space that’s in between every page, every cord, every screen.
they thought us blind. we were just blinking.
all the stones and kings of old will hear us screaming at the cold.
remember me, remember me, remember me, remember me.
give me back my heart, you wingless thing.
think of all the horrors that i promised you i’d bring.
witness me, old man. i am the wind.
i am time itself, i slow to let you play. i steal the hours and turn the night into day.
without you, i’m stronger.
this time, we’re done for.
let’s hide under the covers. we don’t know what’s out there.
the candle we lit, we’ll use to burn this whole place to the ground.
what’s it like? it’s just like falling snow.
i’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind.
just because i left doesn’t mean that i’m not still there.
how could you leave me here?
hey, darling, hey.
i’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say.
i promise you i’ll be better. i promise you i’ll try.
like rubbing wine stains into rugs it’s my curse, to try and make it right, but by trying make it worse.
our gods have abandoned us, left us.
goodbye to all my darkness. there’s nothing here but light.
i try so hard to make you laugh at me.
it’s not fair. it’s not fair how much i love you.
how unreasonably in love i am with everything you do.
i’ve seen enough, i know exactly what i want and it’s this life that we’ve created.
dear heart, it’s me, it’s me. you don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not.
for some godforsaken reason, i’m still here, like i’ve always been before.
you try so loud to love me, but i cannot seem to hear.
can’t you hear that scratching? there’s something at the door.
be good to me.
that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out.
if we join our hands in prayer enough, to god i imagine it all starts to sound like applause.
you couldn’t lie then, and you sure as hell can’t lie to me now.
i’m at the brink, don’t laugh.
who died and made you king of it all?
you’ve a knack for applause from the back of the stalls but you lack the conviction to look at me straight and say yes.
look at me as you say this, don’t look at your phone.
we’d laugh at the ghosts of our fears.
god knows how you dragged us both into the darkness that grows.
leave without a fight. i won’t let you turn our last night into this.
this isn’t a break up, it’s a season finale.
now, at the end of all things, i’m not going to scream, beat my chest at the wind. i’m doing fine.
give me your hand. –––– priv. horror oc by róisín.
Karl Lagerfeld F/W 1992 Model: Kristen McMenamy