hernameischerryyy

Life imitates art🪽

[alicebelladonna]

The atmosphere of summer rain in the cemetery.

[hernameischerryyy]

Miu Miu from the runway 2026 is horrible. The vest?!?! Why?!?!

[stevienick]

Catherine O'Hara outfits as Delia Deetz 

BEETLEJUICE (1988)

[hernameischerryyy]

how I love her

[loeilballon]

1. Johann Heinrich Füssli, The Nightmare (1781)

2. Mae Clarke in Frankenstein (1931)

[douvaqueenmarieheard]

enfants riches déprimes photographed by ryley paskal

[hernameischerryyy]

Hot

[cickyart]

Normal people draw the same old man every night

[hernameischerryyy]

I love him

[ephemeral-wreaths]

[hernameischerryyy]

175 days

The following 175 days are going to come with a lot of change. I don't like change. Today was the first, and I primarily worked on the core philosophy of my blog (Doll Parts Magazine). Maybe I'll change the name? Tomorrow I workshop for my poetry book. What will the theme be, and what poems have I already written? Then, I write about the esoteric women's cult that went awry and the starlet that burned out too fast. 175 days and maybe a bit more before I decided if I leave my native land of the palms or if I trade it for the gloomy London. I loved it there; for some reason, it felt more nurturing than LA has ever felt.

[hernameischerryyy]

Permission to be

Before I post anything I feel like I have to apologize and excuse myself to everyone, even on social media. Specially, when I post my writing I will apologize for my “pathetic mediocre writing”.

“Sorry to spam, sorry to post, sorry to write, sorry to make you uncomfortable”

It doesn’t make sense that I apologize for my existence and my little place on the internet in a world full of million and billions of people.

To be clear, I know I have a fear of being seen even though it’s all my thirteen year old self wanted. I also know I just don’t like myself. It gets to a point where I put my dreams and life aside because I hate myself that much. So it does make sense to apologize. If I dislike myself this much, I can only imagine what others think of me.

- Angelina Mia,

Monologue of My mind

[roseforviolet]

[hernameischerryyy]

London, Paris, LA

[hernameischerryyy]

[hernameischerryyy]

Cosplayed a Londoner

[hernameischerryyy]

“Would you like me anymore if I did?”

Wrapped in sheets, lighting a cigarette

In a man’s bed who could never be what I so desperately want him to be

[hernameischerryyy]

Just added five more poems to my table of contents for my book

[hernameischerryyy]

Remembrance

“Thirteen year old me would hate my current self. I used to go to Grammy after parties and spend my nights with the stars. I cared about being loud and I wanted to be seen. My lips used to be painted red like Courtney Love. Fishnets, band tees and short slip dresses. I haven’t been to a party in over a year and I’ve found that the stars burn out too quickly. I’m quiet now and I live in my head. I’m scared to be perceived. My eyes are still lined black. My lips now adorn a darken brown. I’ve stopped painting my lips red years ago but I’ve dyed my hair red a thousand times. Each time I’ve regretted it. All the fishnets are torn and the band tees are cut. They look much better hanging off my shoulder showing off my protruding collar bones.”

- Angelina Mia,

Simply based off the current trend of thinking your younger self would find your current self cool or worth idolizing.

[shisasan]

August 1, 1925 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]