1001 (tales)

It hurts!


It hurts.





Just kidding?

Anything to throw at your head
shake the floor, burn the forest.
This is the only month of the year (every hundred years) that has five sundays in it. I am returning to a state of ____. neutral. I have no people to meet or places to be, for a while I was crazy central and now all is quiet.

I couldn't think up 1001 one of them.



It's hard to explain.
My work defines me. I think I've finally learned how to seperate myself from the work and the difference is firing a cannon from under the surface of a swamp and having it come out clean, free of all slime.


So this is way better than her other stuff;




dtiedidetided:

So, forget kichiku. Kuudere megane is where it's at.




fffffffffffyeah.
oh but I promised no more boys.

oh.

dang.

(but if you are a good looking boy and you have glasses on (NOT THOSE FUCKING HIPSTER GLASSES, ACTUAL GLASSES), or if you just like, you know, don them occasionally, that's totally cool with me too.)



PS. I'm fine with being a fucking weirdo.