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The key was tensing your core and buttocks. Humming. And nihilism. Also, role-playing as a tortured nineteenth century musical prodigy in the imaginary throes of writing a violent opera helped. A haunting melody started playing in my head. Only I could hear the music.
The gold lion of the House of Zeus. The rainbow peacock of the House of Hera. The purple owl of the House of Athena. The green fish of the House of Hermes. The blue dolphin of the House of Poseidon. The brown pig of the House of Demeter. The yellow eagle of the House of Apollo. The purple-and-green goat of the House of Dionysus.
Free the nipple and the lips (vaginal)?
Seeing this quote on twitter still wasn’t enough to prepare me for actually reading it. Genuinely why would you write this
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