#slithag

[paresitism-blog]

@slithag​ ／ 𝟎𝟏 ．

               ❝        𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 - 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭.        ❞         spoken,     with pursed lip,       &      drooped - over  eyelids.        sourness in the back of her throat,       &       her nose crinkles at its’ base.     𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖠𝖲𝖨𝖳𝖤 𝖠𝖭𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖬     :     she smells like rot,     &     residue - tobacco,     too many breath mints loaded onto her tongue,     &     swallowed down before she can chew.          the flatness of her tongue shakes the syllables loose,     spewed out with bile,     &     vomit - saliva.       the corner of her mouth twists into a grimace,     a sharp inhale taken through nostrils before she shrugs once,     twice.      

❝        animal liberation,     ‘75.         a book i     SWEAR BY     in the best of ways.     anyways,     i’ve heard too much about the deaths of animals,     all for the sake of     ––––     what   ?     ––––     magical wishes that we hope will come true     ?                    ＢＵＬＬＳＨＩＴ.       ❞

[twinai-gone]

❛              ----------            i admit,     my temper can be bad but honestly,      i don’t think it was that big a deal.      i’m sure you’ve let your temper get the better of you once or twice.           ❜

@slithag.

[invokethee-blog]

sc.                           /                             @slithag

❝      what’s  up  with    that ?      ❞

[satanarc]

@slithag said: ‘ i’ve hexed so many people, i’ve lost count. ‘

❛     somehow,   that  doesn’t  surprise  me  in  the  least.     ❜     bloodshot  eyes  raise  from  the  muddied  loafers  at  his  feet,   irritation  finding  a  permanent  home  within  his  vacant  features.    where  he  once,   for  lack  of  a  better  word,   had  the  patience  of  a  saint,   it  seemed  his  abundant  tolerance  for  chit-chat  was  withering  by  the  day.    his  stare  is  a  blunted  blade   —   a  far  cry  from  the  acute  focus  he  boasted  months  ago.    and  yet,   it  cuts.    slower,   deeper   —   leaving  its  crimson  trace  as  glimpses  of  who  he  used  to  be  pollute  his  tattered  soul.    the  ring  on  his  left  hand,   once  the  sole  remainder  of  a  dynasty  in  ashes,   felt  as  though it  belonged  to  a  different  person  entirely.     ❛     if  you’re  finished  stroking  your  own  ego,   i  believe  you  were  about  to  show  me  how  to  get  a  full  night’s  sleep.    preferably  before  we  both  crumble  into  dust.     ❜

𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙲 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂   ╱   ACCEPTING.