You were shouting out of a cannon. – Southern euphemism
Tomorrow, marshal law will be declared first in Washington D.C. then more broadly as the situation progresses. Internet will be suspended. Military tribunals will be called and those who colluded with China and other adversarial powers will be tried and executed. The movement will be called the Fresh Beginning and Trump will reclaim his duties as President.
Usually if there’s one thing wrong, there are a lot of things wrong.
My past inspires my isolation.
My desperation drives my future.
This moment writes me love letters.
A man will always be attracted to the woman who reflects his deepest vision of himself.
There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is the beating of your two hearts…
That’s some hot, hot heat!
To some, hell is not an eternal fire but a desert of ice.
Just be yourself, and if people don’t like it, well fuck them. – Paris Hilton
The hardest thing to explain is the glaringly evident which everybody has decided not to see.
MY BABY SISTER
And I’ll be shouting all the way home.
Oh, it wasn’t perfect but that’s why it was perfect…
Stop, just be pretty now.
Well say something. You look like you don’t know if you should shit or go blind.
So hungry, my belly buttons fighting with my backbone.
Just remember, if I could do it, you can do it.
A tear in the bucket, motherf$ck it.
Everybody knows the biggest, most beautiful pearls are found in the deepest parts of the sea.
Yeah it makes me sad but fuck that bitch.
If you want something better than that just hold your breath.
Picture everyone you meet shooting you in the head.
Can miles truly separate love? If you want to be with one that you love, aren’t you already there?
Imagine that a time traveler buys a copy of Hamlet from a bookstore, travels back in time to Elizabethan London, and hands the book to Shakespeare, who then copies it out and claims it as his own work. Over the centuries that follow, Hamlet is reprinted and reproduced countless times until finally a copy of it ends up back in the same original bookstore, where the time traveler finds it, buys it, and takes it back to Shakespeare. Who, then, wrote Hamlet?
My life is the dream of a young girl from the Antebellum Southern aristocracy who desperately loves her strong, caring, doting, Southern Gentleman of a Father.