Anonymous:Are you in a relationship or single?

currently single but the realitys more like a total devastation of my entire being

Anonymous:You're such a spooky queen! What's your Snapchat?

omg thank you hahahaha

Its bathsalt_zombie 😊

instagram.com are-soul

lil1kennedy:

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I used to dream of u.

sadsarah:

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ANNE CARSON

‘The Glass Essay’ from Glass, Irony, and God (1994);

personal photos, original edit

heloves-u:

hurts like hell but whatever

imjustjason:

honeybeeluck:

chocolatefantasy13:

pretty-boi-joy:

venusians:

glamhoeour:

dominawritesthings:

queenangelique:

kixgbear:

just-jay25:

badgyal-k:

latenightsugar:

modelinterrupted:

blckrapunzel:

ramisonetruelove:

codyslipring:

spn-fandom-breathing-heavily:

westbor0baptistchurch:

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

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not even risking that shit

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

Last comment same thing. Sorry to the next person who sees this. I just can’t risk it. I have things I need to do before my life becomes hell. Lol

man i fucking hate yall who tf put this up knowing damn well we all gonna reblog it im heated im really sick af bout this 

I don’t play that shit lol sorry

WHyyyy

Sorry everyone

If only if only the woodpecker sighs the bark on the tree was as soft as the sky why the wolf waits below hungry and lonely he cries to the moon if only if only

Shiddd

this post followed me to Facebook and im sooo annoyed!

It’s been a MINUTE since I’ve seen Madame Zeroni, fr fr

I HATE TUMBLR FKKKK SAKES

LMAOOOO

Not tryna fuck up any of my planetary Returns~

I reblogged this yesterday but idc, I ain’t playing games with Madame Zeroni or Mama Kitt

😂😂

Madame Zeroni ain’t for play play

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Originally posted by thedailyshow

Fuck it, hope she bless me

January 7

irrelevanceisbliss:

One night when I was drunk
I set my hand on fire –
largely unintentionally –
and instead of blowing it out
or even flinching
I watched the skin start to
boil and burn
around my fingernail.
All I can figure is that the
nail polish remover from
earlier that day
had clung to me,
desperate and delighted
to find a spark,
and it wasn’t until much later that
night when my skin screamed
and swore
and peeled back in disgust
that I realized, when drunk,
I feel nothing
at all.