шлюха
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𝟭𝟭𝟭 ᚢᚱ ᚾᛁᚷᚺᛏᛗᚨᚱᛖ viscousmelancholy.t.me http://t.me/HidenChat_bot?start=1218861228
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203
Raise your chalice, mother of abominations
Gifted your body and your mind, to the great work
203
Writing a telegram post these days makes me feel like i'm alone on an apocalyptic planet and i speak into a walkie talkie every now and again to look for other survivors
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Each cut, each scar, each burn, a different mood or time. I told him what the first one was. I told him where the second one came from. I remembered them all. And for the first time in my life, I felt beautiful.
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С тобой мне так интересно, а с ними не очень
Я вижу, что тесно, я помню, что прочно
Дарю время; видишь: я горю
203
What's known as inner life and didn't know it.
She lived off herself as if eating her own entrails. when she went to work she looked like a gentle lunatic because as the bus went along she daydreamed in loud and dazzling dreams. these dreams, because of all that interiority, were empty because they lacked the essential nucelus of ecstasy, let's say. most of the time she had without realizing it the void that fills the souls of the saints.
203
You are the singer, I am the song
The tune that will linger
The bitter taste left on your tongue
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Now you look into the eyes of another being, and you see another being just like you looking back at you.
And what you see at that moment is another awareness just like you but packaged differently.
