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Cupid's Chapel

@cupidschapel / cupidschapel.tumblr.com

👁 I'm a LIBRA👁👁 👁👁 24👁👁 imparting ancient wisdoms 👁
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keow

Realistically I could never get rid of tumblr because it gives me the illusion of a community of strange young women all around my same age, all slowly figuring out how to live too

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vampirism poses the question "what if there was a fundamental, horrible, unending well of want in your soul that, if truly satisfied, would lead to great pain for all those you hold closest and, in turn, their absolute and total revilement of you?" and naturally as a person with no problems I don't relate to this in any way at all.

vampirism also poses the question "what if someone you loved, through no fault of their own, needed something from you, and giving it to them and seeing them happy provided you the greatest joy, and you were the only one who could do it, but at the same time it was slowly draining all your life out of you?" which is also a completely unrelatable idea to me because I'm a normal person with no issues.

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noknowshame

why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?

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browniefox
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it really is insane how waking up early will grant you access to some of the most beautiful sights and sensations in the world that will make you want to live forever, but only if you overcome the gauntlet of a thousand razors that is getting out of bed early. truly one of life's little saw traps.

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reblogged
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ghouljams

King König: marry me pls

Gardener Leibling: no

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It's a constant refrain. Sometimes you think he asks just to hear you say no to him. No one else tells the king "No", no one dares to even utter the word. You're free to sit in his bed, soft linen sheets pooling around your hips as you pick over the recent requests for different flowers in the garden. The papers brought precisely to the king's suite, and not your little hovel. You should be more annoyed that your papers are being sent to König's rooms and not to your home, but it is rather convenient.

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