No techniques, different styles… bullshit. Yeah, it’s all grand when your eyelashes all fall off of your cheek and I feel like saying farewell to them in an uncanny response of “hey, get back here!?”
It’s late and I have no idea what I’ve been doing doing doing? Sangria. Never had it. Like the sound.
I like the sound of “ia”s.
You still have wheels, kid.
Glitchpop dancecore dickfuck discocrunk isotopespread… roofcherry.