My furs is Mongolian, my ice brought the goalies in
I embody every characteristic of the egotistic
He knows, he’s so fuckin’ gifted
I just needed time alone, with my own thoughts
Got treasures in my mind but couldn’t open up my own vault
My child-like creativity, purity and honesty is honestly being crowded by these grown thoughts
Reality is catching up with me, taking my inner child I’m fighting for custody
With these responsibilities that they entrust in me
As I look down at my diamond encrusted piece
kanye wrote this verse in ‘power’ about klaudia
okay so two chapters are going to be named hetairos (companion, comrade) and philos (lover) but even tho they’re obviously referring to nadiya and giselle i’m using the masculine forms bc a) achilles/patroclus throwbacks, and b) the feminine form of hetairos means courtesan
“I’m not wearing that anymore,” I tell him. “I’m not a soldier.”
“Call yourself whatever you like,” he replies. “You’re going back on that field.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll die,” he says simply. “You will fight, or you will die. Isn’t that always the way it is?”
I pull Giselle’s visor out of the bag and put it on. It fits well and even seems to sharpen my vision, everything crisp and clear.
“It won’t work for you, you know,” he says. “They’re not wired to sync with your retinas and your brain the way they were for her.”
“I don’t care,” I say.
I shove my guns into their holsters and secure my knife in the strap of my boot. He nods approvingly.
“Come on,” he says. “It’s time.”
im so fucking sad
tags posts about julian tw: white people//
i just found this picture on a random hair website but
it’s the exact color/length/texture of klaudia’s