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"while the mountains sang their songs for me
and i was carrying their tune
we gorged ourselves on strawberries
telling stories of our youth
then the sun shone its gospel down
we were soaking it all in
the wind comes and cools our skin
that's when the leaves would start listening"
-a song i wrote about chilling with my grandma
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i'm back home!! regularly scheduled updates will be back on track tomorrow night :) thank you to everyone for your patience. also hello to all the new followers :D we've got over 70 people in the family now!!! im thinking of posting house inspo so we can pretend we all live together. but seriously though i really appreciate every single one of you, you've all been so amazing :) love you mwah<3
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𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱
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"so wHY DONT YOU GIVE ME ONE MORE
chAAAAAAANCE"
-Gumball Waterson
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(before we get started i know none of this is whimsigoth but this is the only social media i have to show my trip to yall im so sorry plz dont crucify me)
GOOOOOD nothing like being in a different country and having the urge, no, the NEED to text an ex or flirt and sext, amirite ladies? FUCK.
Also! The red and white striped clothing you see woman wearing in some pictures are called Güipil. They are woven and worn with a traditional skirt (same weaving method is used but an entirely different pattern and style is used for skirts) by the Triqui people, which I am half :)! We are a fascinating group of indigenous Mexicans so if you have any questions please please ask away!! I wanna talk to yall about my people (or you could just google us but i miss you all :( so)
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If you think about it…. the acronym KYS isn’t saying “kill yourself,” it’s saying Kill Your Self. Three words. As in, kill the concept of the “Self” - your consciousness’s perception that it is an individual, that it has one meaningful isolated identity that is “you,” that it is not but a droplet in the grand ocean of interconnected souls of all living beings in this universe. I think this is beautiful. Embrace ego death and become one with everything. Everyone should KYS
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"Heaven is the bronze horse statue you sat me on. i was young and you're smile shone brighter than the hot sun that soaked that horse for hours before we showed up. But i was young and i had so few memories where you were good to me, even now, so many years later. The burn on my thighs could never compare to the pride i had of making you happy, dad."
-guess who. again.
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haha... hey you guys... its been awhile huh? haha. anyways ive been thinking a lot about pedro pascal since hes my soulmate and the loml. also ive been thinking about how that might be tied to my relationship with my father, who i no longer speak to, so maybe someone can decipher that for me lol. i should probably make another account where i can shit post too because i have so many ideas that i dont really want to dedicate a whole post to. also there are things i wanna reblog but i dont want... i dont really want you guys thinking im some kind of degenerate freak
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"i know two things that will make a person sin
the first is a truck driver without pen
and the second thing that will make you faint
is simply the word tain-"
-an old coworker of mine who never failed to steal giggles from me
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im currently reading Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern and its so fun. every review ive seen about it always says something along the lines of "no clue whats happening in it, love the vibes tho" and then they rate it like 10/10. so far yes 100% is so vibey, no clue what ive read so far but ughh!!! i may be doomed to only knowing what a loving relationship is from the outside; i fear one day ill wake up 70 years old in a cold bed with nothing to my name and a heavy, unrelenting addiction to Judge Judy. its such a fun read for the fall too!! it just fits so well with the season! i think the next book i wanna read tho will be some kind of sapphic love story. im tired of straight people! smooches<3
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i always think abt my cousin in greece who's like obsessed with american culture, bc ill say that im going to a barbecue and she'll be like "wow.... a real life american barbecue... will there be red cups?" you bet your ass there'll be red cups. take my hand. have a hot dog. all your dreams can come true here at the real life american barbecue
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"and I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks and I
saw your mom she forgot that I existed
and it's
half my fault, but I just like to play the victim"
-noah kahan!!! my beloved!!!
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hello again!!! i definitely have kept on track and missed no days!!! mother nature making us hivemind? so many things added together (loss of scopaesthesia due to phone use, opting for different choices then either supporting or vetoing each other until reaching a consensus, pheromones, etc.) make hivemind in nature, so us too?
answer plz help
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"my mouth fishes for words to speak into existence to remind myself I am here
my tear stained face tight, my teeth bared to the stars above
this is my mark on the universe"
-atp im just gonna stop adding these because ive only ever used ONE(1) other persons quote so
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i yearn to be full of sugar like a hummingbird. im trying to make myself have a new hyperfixation and i just cant :/ like im really trying. also once im back from my trip (in 5 days from now :0) i want another tattoo, something to remind me of my time there. ok no more brain juice bye bye loves u *mwah*
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The bull pants in the thick heat of its own blood. It strains against its own largeness. This is no field, there is no grass, no open sky, no cows, no shady tree. In due process the cranium is split from the corpus, and the bull returns to its sky and field.
The headless bull is a monument, an excess. A massive trash-heap of shit. The pile is rummaged through and slowly digested by the infinite number of earthly coprophiles. Hot globs of muscle and skin, gushing blood and seeping tears, all melted by bile into running shit. This hot alchemical slag of the coprophagic digestive tract flows across the lands, distributed across every meridian, from dust to dust. The body is not returned to earth whole but dissolves into the same feces that all become.
But the castrated head seeks another body. It resolves never again to touch the unclean earth. The sacrificial bull head, with horns erect like excited angel wings, its eyes rolled up in pleasure and locked like a hunter to the twinkling stars, its tongue drooping out for a taste of divine wind, is set to final orgasmic blaze over licking flames. Fur, skin, muscle, snot, spit, eyeballs, brains, all rendered dark and sacred cloud: A final little death for the remaining mundanity. A vein to Heaven has opened, and the ashes flow upward into the vaulted cranium of the sky along the pulsing hot wind. In a thousand years another celestial eye will join the countless others of the night.
you are NOT my “passenger princess” get off your phone we are Under attack!!!!!!!! you are my gunner; man the weapons and defend our vehicle with your life!!!
✩˚₊.my dirty little corner of the internet.₊˚✩any pronouns | whimsigoth | gender fluid.~*20s*~.
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