Actually your society is the freaks for shooting everything that moves and burning half your “nature reserves” every year so that upperclass dandies can eat leaded pheasant. North Americans are the well adjusted ones here, your country has become a desolate suburban lawn in island form
swallowing a sword to please my ailing king and i get it down my throat and i start gagging and coughing but im blushin g and shaking alittle and i push it down further and cross my legs for reasons the court does not understand and then i pull the sword out and gasp for air and i like spit on it and my makeups all fucked up and the guards instantly riddle me with crossbow bolts
Draw badly. Write nonsensically. Embroider messily. Burn what you bake and cook. Get paint everywhere. Read half a book. Lose your mind for a bit. Plant things. Have faith in the process. Abandon 70 wood-carving projects. Get a kit and do some of it and never return to it. Get comfortable with sucking and losing motivation. Continue to create with reckless abandon.
being obsessed with a song and being obsessed with the blorbos is so funny because u will listen to the song and go HMMM……. if i ignore this one lyric forgo this whole verse remove the context AND solely focus on these five completely unrelated isolated lines…? this song is TOTALLY about Them 😎😎😎
