Choking on Cacophony

I have certain OCD tendencies. Instagram is like a god damn casino. I’m about to delete and rejoin. I was going to do it the hard way but too many spammers are following.

It should be no surprise to followers of my Twitter that I have a weakness for the female form and soul. Not in a selfish disrespectful sort of way. There’s one saucy maiden who can freeze time every moment we connect, though rare as that is. There isn’t anyone who compares.

It’s just a genuine fascination and appreciation. I’m especially weak when it comes to the sorcery of poses, lighting, expressions, and of course their lovely contours. Not to mention the intoxicating feeling of browsing gorgeous beauties. But I have a goal with horror and erotic art and I won’t get there drowning in a stream of sirens.

Naturally I pulled up a gallery of my dark kitten. If the girls are intoxicating, this kind beauty instantly deflated that experience. The small collection I have isn’t made for magazines or intended to mesmerize like the Instagram stream. But I am in awe at how easily the Instagram girls instantly lose their magic when I see her.

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