n9nen9ner

[n9nen9ner]

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[n9nen9ner]

Okay, but like I had an idea, and I REALLY need to know if A: this already has a name... or B: SOMEBODY identifies with this , but I think if I had to pick one aesthetic to describe me *most* of the time, but I can still branch off because I don't want to pick just one aesthetic of my brain.

It would be ................

Dark Cattlepunk Low-Fantasy!

[Or just Cattlepunk Fantasy]

So its like wearing authentic victorian western wear thats really fancy and spiffy, but like wearing blue jeans pressed as if they were slacks and wearing lace-up boots and wearing a Black Salet helmet instead of a felt hat. And like trench coats with your family history imbroidered on them.

And for the people, it's like:

A botanist with a pony whose saddle is filled with flowers and there's a hurricane lamp hanging off.

A cartographer from Oman who's dressed like an Arab but has elements of western wear mixed in.

And for locations it's like in the cities the bars are filled with polite people and music.

And the streets are lined with ornate steam punk inspired and art nouveau buildings. There's even some art deco creeping around in there somewhere.

****But in the countryside there is like cottagecore houses and fairies in the woods that take your cattle.

It's like when your alone at night in RDR2.

Most places are secluded in the countryside with GORGEOUS North American nature ebbing and flowing with industrialist structures like bridges and oil lines.

Waistcoats and pocket watches and overgrown telegraph lines and spanish hangers and tarot oh my!

Oh! And horses... horses everywhere....

[n9nen9ner]

I woke to regret of a dream,

To something not of false mean,

But to what we did under the moonbeam.

Most were nice, and payed the price,

But I- A lass - committed vice.

With 7 - no friends of mine - we made a scream,

Broke a seam, and made a fate worse than death sheen.

I cut my back when I came to, my head was black, my heart was blue, my soul... it made no call.

I carved my stack, no letters to lack, in space around my eyes. And I scarcely knew what they'd been through, a toil to gods' appall.

I walk the earth, I kept no hearth, and looked for hecklers glare.

My hat I left, my brain was cleft.

I was righteously hooked and by men was I snared.

My hair I tinged. My rage unkind. Till I ceased a walk to a house of vanity. Hello dear O'shauneseah, I bid greeting to your mother the manatee. OH DEAR GOD WONT YOU SLAY MY SANITY. as if the deeds of a hurtful god hadn't already, and slayed it more than mans mind could ferry...

[n9nen9ner]

Cancer is like Death's

Hitman when one has taken fame over life.

Ex.: They would've lived 70 years, but since they

We're a superstar, they got cancer at 65.

[n9nen9ner]

I might be a tree made of rocks -

But im still a fucking tree.

[n9nen9ner]

John Saw A Rainbow, he took a swig of Clear and Cycled his rifle - his hat hadn't divorced him just yet - and he saw, A Rainbow! He felt this fight - wouldn't last much longer...

[n9nen9ner]

A dream, I was in her house after traveling over whatever some time, before i had talked to her, she was wearing a dull colored floral dress, blues under reds around tans, the parasol all closed up looked like a machine gun, we stopped in a dinning room overflowing with papers and envelopes, i was behind glass, like a personal window, there was a sliding door wall to the patio, and a small, high, caged window inthe room, in truth it looked like a painting id like to paint someday - my friends were there, and so was family and peers, the way she said it was beautiful, and we never did do it, I think that that would've been improper for the brain to have carried out - -

me, I won't say what we were gonna do, also they questioned us, he talked about catholicism, maybe drugs to, they wore a lustrous pale blue dress as well, the other didn't say anything, they were just there.

I had went to sleep alongside her in the start, but they replaced her fairly quick, maybe that's the message, I don't believe I know.