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Where the lunar sovereign decants her inexhaustible adoration and mirth: ๐‘ฃฟ (tributes bestowed) by the myriad spirits she encountersโ€”โ€She harvests her ink, inscribing sagas upon the parchment of existence.โ€
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Enough drinking, weโ€™re singing What Was I Made For until sunrise.


They say drunk words are most likely to be repressed emotions, and I agreeโ€” the drinks are simply a truth serum๐Ÿ˜‚ While I wasnโ€™t usually one to indulge in emotional conversation due to my avoidant tendency #womeninmalefields, Iโ€™m actually quite fond of tonightโ€™s session. Maybe sharing my thoughts to people who cares is not as bad as I thought it would be. ๐Ÿค”
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