I rub my armpits with pickles and Italian meat sauce
Eat durians raw for breakfast
Skip showers
They say “you smell so bad.
Really. You smell terrible.
I am being serious. It’s disgusting.”
Get away from me!
Go hang out w a pretty boy who smells like basil
If you come looking for me
I will smell like stinky stinky curry
And tinned fish
And will attack you

I don’t want to give my ex his fan back I need it. I cut micro-bangs I’ve been doing strange drugs with strange men. I wonder if he found out I’m a micro-cheater. I drink 3 passion fruit Yerba mates everyday.

I don’t want to give my ex his fan back I need it. I cut micro-bangs I’ve been doing strange drugs with strange men. I wonder if he found out I’m a micro-cheater. I drink 3 passion fruit Yerba mates everyday.

I don’t want to give my ex his fan back I need it. I cut micro-bangs I’ve been doing strange drugs with strange men. I wonder if he found out I’m a micro-cheater. I drink 3 passion fruit Yerba mates everyday.

why do I need to do that…
What is even going on.

I don’t want to do that but am I staying here out of spite because I hate being told what to do?

I’m a dom, personally. Can you tell?

i used to get posted on the reg when there was less ppl now it’s all just the whorish type shit getting posted it’s like what’s the point i can “write” my little “prose” in my little google docs at home

And I can prove it

great story

Today I want to be some form of pure writer, yesterday I wanted to be Stanley Kurbrik, the day before I wanted to be punk, and last week I wanted to be an intellectual. I dream of being a recovered heroin junkie of five years. I dream of being an ordinary/pure/honest man of virtues, a voice for those who cant speak for themselves. Just last night I dreamed of being a scene queen. I need a thousands of lives to be satisfied. I love talking the talk, but never want to walk the walk for more than two days. I wish I could die and spawn again a million times. I wish to leave some form of trace behind, it makes the old life/death thing more tangible. There are dreams of high priority and dreams, that are just dreams and still I want to follow them all. Im Musils "man without quality" I don’t want to seriously commit to anything and avoid any commitment in order to keep myself open to new options and constellations. there’s always the chance you just might be missing out. committing suicide is easy, the devil whispers. God has made committing to life unbearable hard.
I have to leave town for some days. There’s dishes and dust all over my apartment. I want it clean, I want control. I want to return on Monday and find my home wrecked, dirty and disgusting. I hate and fear control.

whatever, any recommendations on committing

Today I want to be some form of pure writer, yesterday I wanted to be Stanley Kurbrik, the day before I wanted to be punk, and last week I wanted to be an intellectual. I dream of being a recovered heroin junkie of five years. I dream of being an ordinary/pure/honest man of virtues, a voice for those who cant speak for themselves. Just last night I dreamed of being a scene queen. I need a thousands of lives to be satisfied. I love talking the talk, but never want to walk the walk for more than two days. I wish I could die and spawn again a million times. I wish to leave some form of trace behind, it makes the old life/death thing more tangible. There are dreams of high priority and dreams, that are just dreams and still I want to follow them all. Im Musils "man without quality" I don’t want to seriously commit to anything and avoid any commitment in order to keep myself open to new options and constellations. there’s always the chance you just might be missing out. committing suicide is easy, the devil whispers. God has made committing to life unbearable hard.
I have to leave town for some days. There’s dishes and dust all over my apartment. I want it clean, I want control. I want to return on Monday and find my home wrecked, dirty and disgusting. I hate and fear control.

whatever, any recommendations on committing

What kind of activities do you guys like to participate in? What does a normal day look like for you? Genuinely asking. please reply. I guess I'm just trying to collect data. Hey spite maybe you should let people reply to meee meee meee meeeeee me. no one else. i want to dedicate this spite letter to someone but out of spite I wont because they have broken my heart. spite spite spite

Please

They are all nice because they all want to fuck me. I am engaging with a few via dm but it is so much hotter talking within the group chat stimulating each other and trying to find the balance of submission and dominance. I like to experience a little chauvinism when it suits me.

and it was two weekends ago I was at his house to the ams and I was like “Imma just crash on your couch” and he was like ok tryna figure out his vibe with the other two remaining girls. He went into his bed, the other two fiends left and I was like tf am I doing… So I knocked on his door, no reply. I opened the door, “Theoooo” No reply. It was pitch black so I was feeling his body out on his bed,. like are you even here and how tf are you dead asleep, it's been 10 mins. He didn’t reply or say anything, I couldn’t even hear him breathing. I just crawled in and he immediately grabbed me, kissed me and fucked me. Nothing was said.
When we woke up I did ask him why he didn’t invite me to sleep in his bed and said that I just looked so peaceful on the couch and didn’t wanna disturb me. Haha yeah i was pretending to be asleep. And then he fucked me again
I FEEL HIGH Then we hung out for the whole day hungover and sleep-deprived. It was everything I wanted.

I'm retarded
It's okay tho
Things stagnate and I don't really like the city that much. I miss having a group of friends that wasn't scene esque or clout heavy. I miss chillin with the homies

It's Violet Ends by Boy Smells

In San Fran, I wear Daisy by Marc Jacobs

When I go to Cincinnati, i wear dog shit

no such thing as hello or goodbye, I don’t know what’s worse ?

Leaving a city and saying nothing under the guise of a sabbatical and then forging an unrooted existence… or slowing feeling yourself fade away, over the course of two weeks, as you pack your underwear for a Spirit flight back home

sometimes it's impossible to write anything without sounding like a manic pixie dream girl or like a real bitch

I’ve accepted the fact that I will never be a scene person
I do not fit in and sometimes it bothers me
But that’s ok
I am meant to stay where I’m from
I am at peace there
There is nothing out there for me
This fact allows me to create a world for myself