🟨⬜️ K. A. Parden 🟪⬛️
@kapardenauthor.bsky.social
19 y/o novelist of “apocalyptic fiction”, they/them, self-published (for now)
Buy my newest book: https://a.co/d/eRNkvQi
Buy my newest book: https://a.co/d/eRNkvQi
WHY I WANT TO FUCK DONALD TRUMP (1)
Someone was shooting dandelions at my glass house from a cannon made from human flesh.
I remember when the grass used to be less bloody.
No one uses these playgrounds anymore, now they just pulsate and fuck.
HTML is the language of Godliness.
#politics
Someone was shooting dandelions at my glass house from a cannon made from human flesh.
I remember when the grass used to be less bloody.
No one uses these playgrounds anymore, now they just pulsate and fuck.
HTML is the language of Godliness.
#politics
January 19, 2026 at 6:58 AM
WHY I WANT TO FUCK DONALD TRUMP (1)
Someone was shooting dandelions at my glass house from a cannon made from human flesh.
I remember when the grass used to be less bloody.
No one uses these playgrounds anymore, now they just pulsate and fuck.
HTML is the language of Godliness.
#politics
Someone was shooting dandelions at my glass house from a cannon made from human flesh.
I remember when the grass used to be less bloody.
No one uses these playgrounds anymore, now they just pulsate and fuck.
HTML is the language of Godliness.
#politics
UMBRAPHILE
Johnny runs down the flesh-dog he saw in his dreams while Anne gets naked beneath the fetal willow tree.
“What is that in your pants?” She asks Johnny.
“Why, it’s the face of God, of course,” replies Johnny, his eyes becoming steel butterflies.
Johnny runs down the flesh-dog he saw in his dreams while Anne gets naked beneath the fetal willow tree.
“What is that in your pants?” She asks Johnny.
“Why, it’s the face of God, of course,” replies Johnny, his eyes becoming steel butterflies.
January 19, 2026 at 6:11 AM
UMBRAPHILE
Johnny runs down the flesh-dog he saw in his dreams while Anne gets naked beneath the fetal willow tree.
“What is that in your pants?” She asks Johnny.
“Why, it’s the face of God, of course,” replies Johnny, his eyes becoming steel butterflies.
Johnny runs down the flesh-dog he saw in his dreams while Anne gets naked beneath the fetal willow tree.
“What is that in your pants?” She asks Johnny.
“Why, it’s the face of God, of course,” replies Johnny, his eyes becoming steel butterflies.