My name is Cyd
These are my digital declarations of Art, Music, Sex & Freedom.
All forms of divine decadence and debauchery welcome.
poly • cis-female
25 • NYC • Rated NC-17 (18+)
You'll never know until you ask...
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SKYPE: cydsilver64

Hey peeps, just a heads up. I don’t think I’m going to posting on this blog very much anymore. I think as it became more visible to people who know me in real life and the busier I got, the less I’ve wanted to do with it besides open diary (and even those were censored more) or instagram posts. There’s a couple of you I may message individually to let you know where I’m going (or if you’re really interested in my day to day life message me and I’ll give you the new url) but other than that I don’t feel like this is what I intended it to be anymore.

Jimmy Gestapo called me a warrior and wants to hang w me & buy me a drink.
Well that’s something to remember

I’m having real mixed feelings bout this whole Mother’s Day thing. Obligatory flowers sent. 10 min phone call happening later. Other than that I feel like a self-proclaimed orphan more than ever.

Remember that time when I was really into that guy who had a thing for me and it all worked out and it was really chill and happy?

Yea, nope me neither.

p.s.
this.

p.s.

this.

People and this never-ending word current of an existential crisis in the back of my brain make me so tired.

fuck this. i’m hitting a bowl, watching classic horror-ness, and going to bed.

Every bad/destructive/scary/almost-fucked-up situation I’ve ever been in has began with a little button that gets pushed by someone who uses this on me.

Every bad/destructive/scary/almost-fucked-up situation I’ve ever been in has began with a little button that gets pushed by someone who uses this on me.

(Source: misandry-machine, via wormhole-eater)

Rough practice tonight. The drummer got kicked out of another band earlier today so he decided to over-compensate for it in practice. He kept trying to push bullshit vocals onto one of my songs and make me sing irritatingly poppy three part harmonies because he wants more vocal time and because “that’s what real rock and roll is”. Gross. People are weird. Bands are irritatingly difficult, especially when there’s bruised old man egos in the mix. Whatever. Rally & recover and hopefully I’ll feel better about it tomorrow.

*bleh*

Trying to get my heartstrings and hormones under control while I pause the project I’m working on + Twilight Zone marathon to go get a sandwich.

  • Me: Will I be seeing you tonight, my creepy one?
  • Leery: Yes. My creepy eyes will be all over you. I'm sweating through my diaper just thinking about it. ❤

The slightest whiff of (perceived) desperation breeds all types of unnecessary bullshit.
Duly noted.

Just signed up for burlesque classes for the month of May at The New York School of Burlesque. 

let us bring it.

Whenever I hear The Raconteurs I think haides and how he actually was a pretty big part of my life last year.
…everybody sees and everyone agrees that you and I are wrong…

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