Placeholder: You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom

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@generalpha

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You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom

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1 year ago

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You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
[art by Alex Maleev] the reflection in the mirror is not her
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world
[vaporwave] Sur... a psychological thriller... cop Dali from Hitchcock... mix in a little World War II... sure... surreal events in an occupied town... man sees ancient soldier hiding in abandoned home... "Twillight Zone." Now... what do they look like? No! Did that before-- What? No, not that way! Damn deadlines. Setting me off completely. Too much pressure. Mixing up the scenes! Too much coffee. That's it. Damn freezed-dried stuff! What's that? No! You didn't want any jungle queens! Now wait a
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
Wednesday Addams kept close to Morticia's side. Though still in her usual somber colors, the young girl had chosen to dress according to Dior's aesthetic rather than her family's customary severe style. Wednesday wore a fit-and-flare dress hitting below the knees, made of finely ribbed wool in a muted charcoal. Three-quarter sleeves and a high lace collar lent it an air of mystery. At the waist was tied a wide sash of deepest navy silk, swaying gently as she walked. On her narrow feet were oxfor
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