It’s always the ones who couldn’t handle someone else being loved out loud that start writing manifestos about principles. You managed a fan page, not a resistance cell. Calm down.

Every time she types it feels like we all lost a few collective IQ points.

Chill babes lol

Les lasagners is like the right wing of #Zeudiners?

20 million taps. 700k margins twice. Historians won’t breathe when they see the graphs, empires have risen with less, elections have been decided with less, religions dream of less. And still thousands kept leaving plates half-eaten, alarms unanswered, lovers forgotten, whole lives suspended just to watch Zeudi practice her English, just to watch her laugh. A love story so obscenely large it makes literature look underfunded, philosophy look half-finished, prophecy look predictable. A red moon rises each time her name flickers on a screen and under it #Zeudiners move like their lives depended on it, and in a way that’s the truth no one wants to admit. Look at the numbers look at the margins look again and again until it sinks in: millions collapsing into a single name: @zeudidipalma. Anyway I’m not exaggerating.. oh I am, I will, and it’s still nowhere near enough.

ZEUDI GANADORA ✨

Something heals in me every time I see her unwrap a gift. The child who once had to part with her toys so her mother could get by now opens packages sent from every direction, each one saying without needing to say: you are worth it, simply as you are. It is less about the objects than the correction, the way time sometimes gives back what it stole too early. Watching her receive feels like watching a debt finally paid in kindness. And the best part is she doesn’t even have to ask anymore. The world just keeps sending offerings. Anyway, I’d send one too, but I’d rather hand-deliver mine and watch her face myself 😏 #zeudiners

Buonasera, @zeudidipalma, It is Thursday night and the bottle is empty before I noticed it happening. I poured it like it was routine, but wine never stays routine. It pulls at things you thought you had left behind, brings them up raw and unfinished. Faces return. Moments half-lived. Words left hanging in the air with no one to claim them. They show up sharper than they should, like unfinished business waiting to be settled… Do we drink to remember, or do we drink to forget. I am not sure anymore. Maybe I was never sure. And somewhere in that noise I always find myself asking the same question: if I stripped away everything I have built, the work, the masks, the rehearsed versions of me, would there be anything left worth keeping. Or am I just a collection of habits and half-decisions, polished enough to look like a person. It is a cruel thought, but wine does not allow for gentle ones. Memory has its own rules, and tonight it did not care about mine. It gave me back what I did not ask for and took away the little I thought I still had. A glass becomes a bottle, a bottle becomes confession. I type slower than usual, I miss letters, but the words insist on arriving. And somewhere between the remembering and the erasing I found myself thinking of you. Which makes no sense, you were never the subject of any of these ghosts. Yet here you are at the bottom of the bottle, scribbled into the margin. If the sentences stumble, blame the wine. If they reach you, blame yourself for being far too beautiful to forget, even in my most questionable moments. #Zeudiners

What dreams are made of. Literally. #Zeudiners instagram.com/p/DOA__RpCN_c/…

Buongiorno, @zeudidipalma, Lately I’ve been drifting through the days as if they belonged to someone else, carried forward but never claimed by them. Hours pass like water that refuses to keep a shape. Then last night I dreamt of you.. no plot, no story, just your presence. And when I woke, I was already smiling, as if my heart had recognized you faster than my mind could. They call it the butterfly effect, when the smallest motion sets off a chain no one can stop. That’s what you are to me: light enough to vanish, yet strong enough to rearrange the weight of an entire day. So this morning carries differently.. the world is still sharp, but its edges don’t cut in the same way. All because you crossed my sleep and left behind the trace of a smile. Anyway, if I’m caught smiling when I shouldn’t, I’ll blame the trespass. You crossed my dream, left the evidence behind, and forgot that dreams are supposed to end. #zeudiners

The only thing dirtier than that sidewalk is the attempt at relevance. And out of every star on Hollywood Blvd, she picked the one that left me struggling to come up with a decent tweet. Should’ve gone with Nicki’s.. the caption was already there: ‘stupid hoe, stupid hoe.’

#AmericanLawyer when the evidence proves she’s guilty of being exactly who she is.

The American lawyer after meeting his client and understanding why everyone hates her.

The jury when her American lawyer starts reading my 4,000-word tweet essay that essentially boils down to: ‘btw I hate her.’

“Your honor, we request damages. Preferably 50k, since that number seems to motivate my client”.

Defamation requires a reputation to protect. Start there 🐅 :)

American Attorney be like