Head of false religion.
I try not to throw my emotional baggage around, but it slips out sometimes
Mostly on here.
Info:
Suspicion: Lesbian
Reality; I hate everyone.
Suspicion: Snooty
Reality; ... Accurate.
Suspicion: Feminist
Reality; Accurate.
Suspicion: Short
Reality; ERROR! ERROR!
Suspicion: Secretly a Man
Reality; ... Complicated...
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring turns brass, Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass.
And if that looking glass gets broke, Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat.
And if that billy goat don’t pull, Papa’s gonna buy you a cart and bull.
And if that cart and bull turn over, Papa’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover.
And if that dog named Rover won’t bark. Papa’s gonna buy you a horse and cart.
And if that horse and cart fall down, Well you’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town.
There’s tears in my eyes. My feels just shattered.
I just.
I can’t even
He would make
such
a damn
good
father, okay?
Bye, Baby.
I’ll try not to kneel on your grave in the spring when I tend to the roses.
Though you’d love that, wouldn’t you, always under foot.
This is what happens when I get crepe hair and about an hour to myself.
Considering doing this(Only a little more carefully(And, y’know, both sides of the face)) for the civil war reenactment ball I’m going to in a couple of weeks.
Yae or Nay?
After describing some disturbing dreams
- Kat: Don't die.
- Me: I can't
- I have too much to do.
