Count Orlok is so hot. I'm sorry. I love his cheekbones, his nose, his intense stare. He's 6'3, lives in a castle and moves cross-country to be near his shordy? The commitment. If he said "You are not for mankind," to me I'd fall to my knees. He appeals to my desires to transcend mundane existence and my probable praise kink. He's dripped the fuck out, has a dog, has really cool glasswear at his castle, and says things like "You are my affliction." My friends say he'd kill me thoughtlessly. Well I've got a death wish papa, astral project right on over to me.
My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌
