by Unhealthy Obsessions » Fri Feb 17, 2017 6:09 pm
"Where am I?"
The bird is quiet. The bird is not melting. The bird observes.
"Holy smokes," the bird whispers into the infinite yonder.
There is no space. There is no time. There is no truth.
There is only the bird. The bird, and the endless imagination which it wraps itself inside.
hi mintiature was in ur account ily sammi
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My Site[/url]
♥ Jams ♥ sig────────────────────────Just average furry trash. She/Her
freelancer/GoodVibes only please♡────────────────────────
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