Not Entirely Unlike A Human Girl @twistingcorridors - Tumblr Blog

Hi! I’m Cassie

I am a Girl (somewhat)

She/it (no he/him or they/them but if you see a shiny pronoun or smthn you can slap it on me like a sticker)

I’m like some kind of creepy antique doll you found in the back of a closet you didn’t realize you had, or an invasive mammal digging thru precious heirlooms in your attic or some shit

I make art sometimes and also reblog poasts 👍

I’m technically a fictive, if you have a guess keep it to urself I Hate My Source 😀 (system main is @shiftinghorizons)

I don’t reblog nsfw (in the sex sense) but there will likely be a disturbing image or sentence on occasion (I like organs n stuff)

Welcome To My Twisted World

#enjoy my room

goobersplat

2005 Barbie Little Lands Fairytopia Mermaidia - Sparkle The Secret Starfish

minttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

sorry but this video is like a parasitic species to me

unteriors

Fort Totten, Washington, D.C.

papayajuan2019

thinking about experiencing my first sensation soon

cali

me if i was fire tank (friendly) and fire tank (cocky)

vedurnan

6th grade math problem:

Words were exchanged between friends – the house of human companionship was established in secret – eons passed – eons passed – eons passed – eons passed

A) The house was diminished!

B) The house was strengthened!

C) The house was swept away!

D) The house was swept away!

stupidestasshole

you are a big stupid piece of shit just like me

#the real stupidest asshole was inside us all along….

minttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

sorry but this video is like a parasitic species to me

#holy shit when’s the full version dropping

stupidestasshole

i live in the awesomes world and you live in water eel dark torture cave

#beauty is in the eye of the eelholder 🧠

jareckiworld

Leon Romanow (1938-2001) — Before the Storm [mixed media, canvas, 1977]

writing-is-a-martial-art

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.