/dft/ - Discord Fappy TalkyPost tags, talk about your fetishes, and jerk off.saaakii let's get this editionPrevious: >>80216573
Dinsdale
Sakinometry
>>80221097sakipow
oagh... what the fuck are you doin to my asshole...
>>80221136>Those hands>Hiding feetLmaooo
other times I believe in god but it doesn't echo the roots in the same way as I do at other times. I was raised christian and I think that that is one version of god that will always be in my mind. but I think there's another, that maybe is my own. the marks of the lives that came before me and taught me will always leave a mark.but when I was born, there still came new life. I think maybe this one is my own, it came from my own life as it blossomed through the cracks in my hands. so, this is the other version of god in my mind, when I don't see god as in memory, as i was raised ,in these times, god is everything, and in every thing. and god isn't a person, nor exactly is god an "it", but the real being of everything and every idea and movement and feeling. god is all of this romanticism even in a cruel world. the reason why there can be pleasure in pain and pain in pleasure. god is also in pain, in all the despair. that god is meaning. I think this version of god; is simply everything.the ideas and the world and the very feeling of being in it. that god is every interpretation and perspective, and person, and all the values and ideas i can hold within my mind. the very fact that I can see it, that i can think of it. I think god is the space in our brains that is thought. that god is consciousness. I think god is that last magic of missing understanding that is a search for meaning in everything. the invisible strand of red string that is our thoughts, that connects everything- that is god. the stretchy and stiff and stringy and sinewy connection, as well as the twirling of it, a tangle jumbled mess that makes a pulsing hole in the center of everyone and everything. I think maybe we are all black holes of light, looking for meaning. and god is everywhere.
>>80221220why
i am in the remotest corner of the inside living room we never sit at, the place where i once killed a porcelain bird, and i was crying the whole day about it because i understood that something that one made into existence, i made it not exist anymore. i have never broken anything else in my entire life. i am looking at paintings on stone walls, glass ornaments from around the world, statues, precious stones, then out of the window because they make me uncomfortable, and i can see nothing but darkness. if i focus, i think i can hear the waves, or i am imagining it. i am back home, and my goal is to look at everything really well. sometimes i feel very sad that i don’t spend much time in all the corners of the house. i cannot describe it. i feel very guilty. next i’m going to fall on the carpet and stare at the diaphanous table from underneath.
>>80221266God has never done anything for us, but we all pray to him regardless. Night and day. Over and over again. Like a kid begging his deadbeat dad to be there, for one game. To notice one fucking time. To give him just one hug. One chance. Begging for him. To be a father. That’s why we invented religion anyway, because we’re all afraid of what it’s like to not have one. God is nothing more than the distant, cold idea of a father, for those who’ve lost their own. That’s why we cry out to him even though he isn’t there, and he hasn’t answered. (He never will.) He can’t hear us, because God is just an idea. A millennium-long creature of mass hysteria. He’s never been anything more than the memory of your father’s rough hands, his freckled face, and the smell of sawdust.
>>80221442me on the left...
One the way back to her slave life she fell asleep crying, listening to old tunes mixed with the sound of rain. Disappointment filled her and overflowed. In another lifetime she was woken up. Her pillow wet with tears just like the streets with the streaming rain. Soft cries had brought him in, her hero, once more rescuing her. Opening her eyes she looked around, confused. Which was real and which was a fantasy. He felt too real to be a fantasy, even more so after she noticed the matching rings on their fingers. It took her some time to calm down, but his soft words never failed to steady her. She let it all out, still feeling the pain of her dream self coursing through her veins. She eventually fell back asleep not long after, basking in the safety of his arms around her and his steady heartbeat beneath her.
>>80221442lain on the right
"if i fully stretch out my hands, there is a space on my ring finger that puckers in like cloth. it's quite small, barely noticeable. these are many of these asymmetries drawn into my body. thick, angry cuts. purpled bruises. the jut of my spine, stubborn and shapely against the skin.i am a created a mismatched mosaic of such imperfections. this is obvious. the unattainable concept of perfection is not a new idea. we were not made with perfection in mind. we were not made with much in mind at all, except to live, to reproduce. love is an optional mind-juice to increase the population. the fear of death can be connected to the need to live. the boundaries between physical and mental smudge and fade. everything is a societal concept and nothing is real--"this is what happens when i am let alone for too long. it's always this, something like this, or something like this in fancier wording. what one might declare my "wandering of the mind" feels more like a pre-plotted train track, which just so happens to be inevitably pointed towards the stop of nihilism premium.and when you get off, the tours will say, hey! welcome to the wonderful cosmos of this strange creature's similarly strange brain! nothing we do is of any inherent worth and the world is going to explode into itty bitty fragments smaller than anyone could ever imagine, leaving none of you or your memory behind! exit to your left!my constant acquaintance with this section of mind gives me more than enough experience to declare that this bit is often at the wheel too long. i'm sure you could tell, considering you're on my substack. it's a rough outer shell that mainly does me harm, and could probably use a good sanding. still, i ride the train and jot down the path. still, i believe in these whispering tracks. be patient, they say. wait for us, child, we will take you to the whyless beyond, where we all write our own endings. have faith, child. you will belong soon.
Boy, Looking for overweight/slob anonsTag: dezaemon3d
>>80221676>BoyElaborate
We build our lives for all to have them seen, Beneath the gaze of screens both cold and bright, A fragile self, caught ever in between The polished mask, a narrative of light. We follow trends, and lose ourselves each day, A subtle shift that leads our hearts astray, While hidden thoughts lie buried ever deep, And guarded secrets we will always keep, We chase a dream, a digital control, And wonder, waking from a weary sleep, What quiet truth resides within the soul? The perfect angle, ev'ry word convenes To cast a shadow, banish all that's might, A curated joy, a polished, false demesne, Where flaws are smoothed away from public sight. We filter fears, and laugh the pain away, Pretending solace through the digital spray, While yearning for a comfort, soft and deep, The whispered promise that our spirits keep, Beyond the feeds that take their heavy toll, Where genuine emotion dares to creep, What quiet truth resides within the soul? The endless scroll, a screen of shifting sheen, Drains precious hours from the fading night, We seek approval, fragile and unclean, A phantom echo, never fully right. In shallow waters, we are led astray, The path of envy darkens ev'ry way, So few dare venture where the shadows sleep, The secrets buried, that the conscience keep, When fractured selves escape beyond control, And bitter tears the silent watchers weep, What quiet truth resides within the soul? Beyond the filters, past the velvet screen, A genuine connection takes its flight, A hidden garden, fertile, lush, and green, Unburdened by the digital foresight. We long for grace, a purer, simpler way, To cast aside the pretense of display, And let our honest vulnerabilities creep, The promises our inner beings keep, To find our purpose, reach a higher goal, Before the final silent slumber deep, What quiet truth resides within the soul?
Wowzies lots of long words there
>>80221720>>80221606>>80221507>>80221473>>80221298saki mindbroke you
>>80221769ava back on saki
>>80221786ava back on sour!
>>80221786>>80221769>>80221759a personal updateI got diagnosed with narcolepsy and started treatment about a year ago, after over a decade of symptoms. And like, holy shit, it's been a huge positive change in my life! But also, it's been a HUGE CHANGE in my life? I had no idea how much of the way I'd learned to function was compensating for this thing that most people haven't experienced.I've had to relearn some really dumb shit like "how to sleep" and "how much sleep" and "when a nap is acceptable" and "impact of environmental light on energy levels" and general sleep hygiene. But I've ALSO had to relearn a bunch of seemingly unrelated things that were heavily impacted, like "ideal amount of screen time" and "attention span" and "workplace preferences" and "decision making" and like ... everything else?The whole rulebook switched up on me and my previous skills aren't nearly as relevant as they used to be. I feel like I was a level 27 fae barbarian, and then at level 28 I finally decided to multiclass to warlock. Turns out warlock is a lot easier for me to make progress in! But also I already threw all of my skillpoints into barbarian, so I'm basically a level 1 warlock even though my character level is 28. Everyone's asking me, "You're level 28, so why can't you do the most basic warlock skills?" Like. Listen. I'm great at using the barbarian rage skills whenever I want, but they're not all that helpful because strength has always been my lowest stat. And since I can't cast spells in a barbarian's rage state, which was my only main ability until this most recent levelup? I'm not very familiar with the entire concept of spellcasting as a whole.
>>80221819Don't get me wrong, I'm SO GRATEFUL that I was able to receive a diagnosis and treatment. This is a much, much smaller problem to have than untreated narcolepsy was, and also it's one that I know will improve with time. BUT. I got through all of K12, all of uni, and several jobs before being diagnosed. For years I was told that everyone's tired, or it's just a motivation issue, or it's my sleep hygiene, or it's a symptom of a mood disorder. Even as I saw several doctors about the level of fatigue? When I was 16 a doctor heard my explanation and told me, "I don't think a sleep study would help you right now." In 2013ish as a minor? I had no idea that I even COULD protest that assessment.So I just did the shit I needed to do anyway, and made it work. My whole life I've been able to fall asleep with no issues. Well-lit room full of people, TV blaring, no AC, sitting up in an uncomfortable chair, wearing jeans & a chest binder & boots? I'm still drifting off. During uni, I would crawl under the benches in the hallways outside of my classrooms, curl up around my backpack, and take a nap until I felt awake enough to commute home and actually go to bed.The first day I took my narcolepsy meds, I was drifting off on the couch around sunset. When my roommate turned a lamp on, I sat up, looked around, and asked, "Is it normal to feel more awake when there's more light in the room?"
>>80221846I used to have a pretty damn good attention span. I had already taught myself how to concentrate and what focus methods work for me. Turns out when you're fully awake and aware for, uh, the first time ever? It's a LOT easier to get distracted. By anything. Hypervigilance hits really different when you actually have the energy to physically look over your shoulder. My IRLs have been saying that it seems like I suddenly developed ADHD, and I think it probably does look that way to other people. But internally, I don't feel like an adult with ADHD. I feel like a nearly-30 adult with bills and errands and a full time day job, but who happens to have an attention span subpar to the average 10yo's. I don't think it'll stay that way, but until a year ago I had almost zero experience trying to focus while actually fully awake. I'd focused plenty, but I'd NEVER been fully awake.tl;dr: Sorry for the huge slowdown in writing and overall responsiveness. Redistributing skill points can be a very slow process when very few of your current abilities are transferable to your current job class.(See also: unlearning trauma responses when you find yourself safe for the first time in your life and have no idea what to do about it)
I got diagnosed with a foot fetish (inoperable) (fatal)
>>80221698Underweight boy
I absolutely get why people hate the way the word "clean" is used in romance/romantasy. I've always hated it as well. The implications in relating a lack of sex to cleanliness and therefore purity are really clear.But all of a sudden you need to describe your book, and you're faced with the horrible realization that calling it a romance is going to make pretty much everyone assume that the characters fuck, at least off-page. And you know that that not happening is a dealbreaker for a LOT of people. And you really don't want those people reading your book and then leaving you a shitty review because they "wasted" a few hours reading a story without boning. So you need to signal "they're not gonna fuck, avoid this if you require that in your romance" without actually saying that, because being that direct is off-putting and not at all normal. And that's when you realize that the only professional convention for indicating this is using the word "clean".
>>80221908How smol~?
Sometimes I wonder how many personality shifts a person actually has in them, and if whether or not the person I am now is truly the last version of me. I often write of human nature and our ancient biology (and psychology) but perhaps I don't speak enough often about our adaptability—which is ultimately rooted in our survival instinct—and our hardiness. We are only made of bone, muscle, and will, and yet we still overcome whatever obstacle is put before us. Cut a man's leg off and if he doesn't bleed to death, he'll walk again given enough time to heal (and an artificial leg to stand on). I don't see us as being handicapped. I see our will. That is what I think of when I think of man. Our iron will. That demon that sits on some of our shoulders, shovelling coal onto the fire that propels us into our ceaseless forward motion. It's a drive that, short of compete obliteration of our physical being, is inexhaustible. In saying that, I hope that one day I find reason enough to shift from my current state of being and embrace something more calm and loving. One day I hope to look into a woman's eyes and have her look into mine, and we both share some disgusting, innocent, human love for one another. Because who I am now is someone that's indigestible. I'm conflicted, frustrated, and I seethe in a way that I've never really experienced before. I never wished violence on people a decade ago. Now though? Now, I can barely restrain myself and after a long session training, as I tremble with overwork, a part of me hopes someone gets in my face, so that in my state of sweat-dripping exertion, I can force my own will on another's, and watch as my fire engulfs them in a conflagration of human violence. Sometimes the person I am now is unrecognisable to me. There's a deep well of anger and hatred churning and roiling within me.
>>80221979 I hope—truly hope—that I find peace and that I can finally experience gentleness again because I can't remember the last time I fucked someone and it wasn't out of a burning, destructive need, or out of spite, and I can't remember the last time that I looked at someone and didn't immediately put my guard up and remain suspicious of them and their intentions, or critical of what they say and who they are. Perhaps I'm just waiting on a change in the wind and a sign from God, to put the sword down, and pick up a hoe or rake, and tend to some great garden somewhere warm and where the air is fragrant with the smell of apple blossoms and sea air, and I can hear the sound of children as they frolic and play. Some day, but not today. I'm just waiting on that sign.
>>8022193954kg
I've never been big on religion, organized or otherwise. I've also never bothered to look into the stories that make up those beliefs, choosing to remain ignorant and to make it easier to disagree with those beliefs.In the back of my head, I've always looked at the way the stories are pushed on impressionable minds and looked at how harmful those stories and beliefs are.Until this morning.Staring at the ceiling, letting my alarm chime into a near-inaudible drone beside me, I had the thought:"But how many stories have I told myself when I was in vulnerable, impressionable places? How many of those stories turned into harmful beliefs of myself? How many of those have done near irreparable harm to how I see and hold myself as a human being? How long have I spent seeking the root of these beliefs to undo them?"The answers came quickly enough, uncomfortable and close to home.My curiosity came out the winner. There must be some throughline between some of the oldest stories in recorded history and the stories & comforting lies we tell ourselves today.
>>80221908>>80222060Height, physique, shaved/smooth, dick size, fat or flat ass?
Anonymous 12/28/25(Sun)18:26:07 No.802220781756742289206460.png (1.5 MB, 1296x1664) google yandex iqdb wait1.5 MB >>80221908 >>80222060 Height, physique, shaved/smooth, dick size, fat or flat ass?
I've never been big on religion, organized or otherwise. I've also never bothered to look into the stories that make up those beliefs, choosing to remain ignorant and to make it easier to disagree with those beliefs.In the back of my head, I've always looked at the way the stories are pushed on impressionable minds and looked at how harmful those stories and beliefs are.Until this morning.Staring at the ceiling, letting my alarm chime into a near-inaudible drone beside me, I had the thought:"But how many stories have I told myself when I was in vulnerable, impressionable places?How many of those stories turned into harmful beliefs of myself?How many of those have done near irreparable harm to how I see and hold myself as a human being?How long have I spent seeking the root of these beliefs to undo them?"The answers came quickly enough, uncomfortable and close to home.My curiosity came out the winner.There must be some throughline between some of the oldest stories in recorded history and the stories & comforting lies we tell ourselves today.
i have a confession to make.one of sin, and of guilt.but it is your scales of judgement,my soul will weigh upon.but how could i ever reach you?the words have been hangingright by my mouthfor as long as i can remember,to the point where i have forgottenhow to summon the courage,heave it off my tongue andweave it between praise and prayer.selfishly, i wish not to be branded,as a sinner, even though i haveindulged again and again in deadly greedfor you to answer my call for your hearteven when i call your name,it is only common sensethat your gaze lingers on me no morethan god’s blessing upon a manfor i am only one of the manysharing the delight of your presencebut not worthy enough to receive an answer formy desperate prayer for a remedy to cure—but poison is just as potentas any antidote or potionand so i swallowed my sin, not knowingthat it would fester and growuntil it turned into a begging monsterclawing at my ribcage crying for denied redemptionits starving state bringing it closer todivinity than deaththe only way to quell its crieswas to stain my hands withthe blood from my own chestand dig the organ out from its withering vesselcaught red-handed, i’m finally brought before youwhere i hold it out and present youits raw, bleeding, mutilated state.a gift in replacement of what i could not take.i place my hearton the precipice of the scalemy empty chest breathes, in stuttersa peculiar calm finally washes over me.would you carefully balance the scalesto prevent me from tipping over?or would you let me fall away, to tear belieffrom my hands, and i, burn in its agony?i know i am seeking the impossible, to askthe divine to weigh the passion of equal reverenceagainst the whole of my soulwhen under your gaze, i am a sinner——who was careless enough totake a gamble and let my heart fallforgetting that falling never goes upwardsto where you stand.
>>80222078Do we have to do this here…
Don't get me wrong, I'm SO GRATEFUL that I was able to receive a diagnosis and treatment. This is a much, much smaller problem to have than untreated narcolepsy was, and also it's one that I know will improve with time. BUT. I got through all of K12, all of uni, and several jobs before being diagnosed. For years I was told that everyone's tired, or it's just a motivation issue, or it's my sleep hygiene, or it's a symptom of a mood disorder. Even as I saw several doctors about the level of fatigue? When I was 16 a doctor heard my explanation and told me, "I don't think a sleep study would help you right now." In 2013ish as a minor? I had no idea that I even COULD protest that assessment.So I just did the shit I needed to do anyway, and made it work. My whole life I've been able to fall asleep with no issues. Well-lit room full of people, TV blaring, no AC, sitting up in an uncomfortable chair, wearing jeans & a chest binder & boots? I'm still drifting off. During uni, I would crawl under the benches in the hallways outside of my classrooms, curl up around my backpack, and take a nap until I felt awake enough to commute home and actually go to bed.The first day I took my narcolepsy meds, I was drifting off on the couch around sunset. When my roommate turned a lamp on, I sat up, looked around, and asked, "Is it normal to feel more awake when there's more light in the room?"
>>80222134Nyo, you can post taggy
Shouldn't this bring the opposite reaction (or inaction)?You've already experienced the jump several times that you should be satisfied.Though that's just how things work, there's either the opposite or the equal re-action that is redundant.Perhaps you were too attached to the "enjoyment" part that you already ignore the experience or requisites that come before the enjoyment kicks in?That sounds dangerous.Death from falling is not the best thing.Your hearing is the last thing to go, the floor is cold and the smell of the floor lingers in your final memory as your breathing starts to have difficulty "this smell s*cks", you hear people cowering in fear or making stupid sounds, shrieks, concerns, calling, then you'd have an out of body view of yourself momentarily before going back to the cold ass floor as your stomach and body feel from burning warm to drastically colder and colder from blood loss which would then blanket you warmth as the blood surrounds your immovable body that probably moves on its own.
>>80222148But it was on my original post
i have a confession to make.one of sin, and of guilt.but it is your scales of judgement,my soul will weigh upon.but how could i ever reach you?the words have been hangingright by my mouthfor as long as i can remember,to the point where i have forgottenhow to summon the courage,heave it off my tongue andweave it between praise and prayer.selfishly, i wish not to be branded,as a sinner, even though i haveindulged again and again in deadly greedfor you to answer my call for your hearteven when i call your name,it is only common sensethat your gaze lingers on me no morethan god’s blessing upon a manfor i am only one of the manysharing the delight of your presencebut not worthy enough to receive an answer formy desperate prayer for a remedy to cure—but poison is just as potentas any antidote or potionand so i swallowed my sin, not knowingthat it would fester and growuntil it turned into a begging monsterclawing at my ribcage crying for denied redemptionits starving state bringing it closer todivinity than deaththe only way to quell its crieswas to stain my hands withthe blood from my own chestand dig the organ out from its withering vesselcaught red-handed, i’m finally brought before youwhere i hold it out and present youits raw, bleeding, mutilated state.a gift in replacement of what i could not take.i place my hearton the precipice of the scalemy empty chest breathes, in stuttersa peculiar calm finally washes over me.would you carefully balance the scalesto prevent me from tipping over?or would you let me fall away, to tear belieffrom my hands, and i, burn in its agony?i know i am seeking the impossible, to askthe divine to weigh the passion of equal reverenceagainst the whole of my soulwhen under your
With time, we begin to prefer silence — or perhaps peace.The once always-on-my-toes version of me has given way to someone more laid-back, content to step back and observe rather than constantly press the gas. I’ve been there, done that. We start filtering life instinctively; once the clutter goes, clarity follows, and with it, peace. Vision may blur with age, but by now we’ve learned to see through masks with quiet precision.And yet, the heart still pines for days gone by — as if too many films were made in one life, some good, some bad.The formula remains simple: live free and care less about what the world thinks of you.Ironically, we discover this formula only after an eternity of caring for what the world thinks of us!!
アーカイブは、死んだミームの博物館のようなものだ。やつらはそこに座り込み、古いスレッドをめくりながら、それを「文化遺産」だと装う。まるでTSUKIの秘密プロトコルのリークででもあるかのように振る舞うが、実際には、Linuxと480pのポルノについてこじらせたオタクどもが昔延々とやっていた口論にすぎない。お前らは遺産などではない。すでに「遺伝」の段階に達している。同じテンプレートで複製された、陰気でこじらせたオタクという型が、一つの系統として固定化してしまっているだけだ。新しい人間を恐れるのも当然だろう。誰かが、「王様は裸だ」「サーバーはゴミだ」「お前らの言う“ぬくもり”など、ただの停滞と変化への恐怖だ」と言ってしまうかもしれないからだ。
>>80222188Turns out I'm retarded!
I’ve been tightly woven, each string braided with terror, praying that it won’t be my unraveling.The fear hidden by the tight stitches have loosened with time, cracking through in small spays as I absentmindedly twirl them beneath my fingers until I’m pulling a string that doesn’t seem to end. It was a quiet thought I chalked down to an irrational fear. This is what I want, shouldn’t it be? This is what people strive for, this quiet familiarity. Comfort isn’t passion. It isn’t adoration. Quiet intimacy forms from passion, from a great love that has become familiar and less novel in the time it’s been explored. But the string keeps unraveling and I have to keep pulling. I know what it’s taking apart and I’m terrified to have to throw away the loose strings with no way to rebuild them.
With time, we begin to prefer silence — or perhaps peace.The once always-on-my-toes version of me has given way to someone more laid-back, content to step back and observe rather than constantly press the gas.I’ve been there, done that.We start filtering life instinctively; once the clutter goes, clarity follows, and with it, peace.Vision may blur with age, but by now we’ve learned to see through masks with quiet precision.And yet, the heart still pines for days gone by — as if too many films were made in one life, some good, some bad.The formula remains simple: live free and care less about what the world thinks of you.Ironically, we discover this formula only after an eternity of caring for what the world thinks of us!!
recently went back and read Ken Thompson’s lecture from the 1984 Turing Awards. The basic idea is well known, but still very interesting: even if you carefully audit a program’s source code and convince yourself it’s clean, that doesn’t mean the resulting binary can be trusted. If the compiler itself is compromised, it can silently inject malicious behavior during compilation, regardless of what the source says. Thompson even shows and example of how a compiler can be taught to recognize specific programs (like a login utility) and insert a backdoor, and then also recognize its own source code and perpetuate that behavior forever, even after the original malicious code has been removed. See picrel for an example.For the whole lecture: https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~rdriley/487/papers/Thompson_1984_ReflectionsonTrustingTrust.pdf The lecture basically forces you to accept the fact that trust in software is transitive and historical. You’re not just trusting the program you’re reading, but the compiler, the compiler that built that compiler, the system it ran on, and so on, stretching back to something you ultimately accept on pure 'faith'. Reading it today, you start to see parallels with modern supply-chain attacks, compromised build environments, and the growing emphasis on reproducible builds (with Nix and GNU Guix, for example), bootstrapping etc. In a sense, a lot of current security work feels like we’re slowly rediscovering and trying to contain the implications Thompson showed decades ago. What I’m not sure about is if this is even a problem that can be actually solved. Techniques like diverse double compilation and reproducible builds clearly help, but they seem more like ways to narrow the gap than to eliminate it entirely. At some point, there’s always a root of trust that can't be proven.Check out the whole lecture, it's just 3 pages and it has a very simple and clear language, it's worth it imho
NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGERNIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER N1GGER
After a time, you come to what was once a beautiful central garden, though now each remaining plant has blackened and decayed, skeletal trees reaching up into the sky while withered flowers barely retaining their petals rustle around your feet, flanked by overgrown dirty white grass. You spot a single bench, mostly intact with dead vines hugging its frame, and decide to take a moment to close your eyes and reflect upon this land you’ve discovered in your dreams. Though before you’ve had a chance to do much thinking, you hear the sound of rustling fabric, and reopen your eyes to look.
>I watch lain and I pretend to be schizophrenic xD
Just heard about mall world and the instances / places people are describing mall world to be is the same places I've described in my dreams before. never put it all together. The mall and stores, is just one place Ive been in a dream. I thought these parking lots, beaches, cliffs, tsunamis, it being a war, in the military, aliens, doctor offices, schools, air ports, airplanes, buildings, parties in buildings, cars, highways mountains was my own antic vivid dreaming. I had a dream this past year in a " mall " in a casino, I got the name atlantic city from in the dream. before that dream i never thought about atlantic city ever. now I hear about mall world. people are making maps of this place. more vivid dreamers then myself. I dream every night but never mapped out my dreams or saw it connected. I specifically been to random doctors offices only I also been to my own old schools or places in hawaii I don't think connects to mall world or maybe it does? dream world. nightmare land.
>>80222188Y-you're not letting him defile you... are you?
I need to be defiled ~
>>80222913There is no guarantee you will be able to go back once you savor the forbidden fruit.
>>80222913>>80222866the last clear drop of water cleanses such miniscule sinsas the horizon casts a frail glow on these wretched bodiesnever to be pure again amidst the ash and sootwe dragged the bodies through the debrisbattered, broken, and bleeding they wereshattered as though made of beige porcelainin the distance a mother cries before sequestering insidenever to be seen by our human eyes againthe sound of weight swaying gently in the acid warm breezenight descends once more on our little corner of despairwould that we could remember rays of sunshinenot corrupted by foul pollution and irradiated glowyesterdays joys are now forgottenno longer lingering as memory or a clear mental indentas our strongest choose the sweet embrace of a mercifully quick demisefor oblivion shines brighter than a world in eternal darkness and strife
LAINCHOP
>>80222980I need that forbidden fruit, no need to go back
>>80223049literally me every single night
>>80223104>>80223052>>80223049so i have this friend, he's so fucking cool. we bonded over our music taste and i feel like i've learned so much more about music from him than i ever have. he's always introducing me to songs, which to me is something so special, because it really teaches you something about that person that they might not even know you're learning, it really is so vulnerable, and i love that i can be so vulnerable with this person and never care what he thinks of me. i hope this friendship lasts a long time, but for however long it lasts, i will always be thankful that i knew him. he's taught me a lot about life already, and i think that when i listen to those songs, remember a conversation, or something he taught me, he will always be part of me and that is so beautiful
>>80223119>we bonded over our music tastejust say you wanna fuck men
I hated myself so much, I always tried to be less. Less to notice, less to care. If there was less of me, there was less to hate. It all started with shutting up. I used to be a pretty talkative, cheeky child, they told me. Very nosy. Still, they said, loveable. Now my tongue's tied. I spoke lower, and lower until I shut up. Now I slur my sentences and mumble my comments, always having to repeat myself two or three times. Because I'm ashamed of myself, I hate myself. Then it came to clothes, I hated how my clothes looked. If there was less of me, there was less to hate. Modern and colourful, just like my mother liked. But I hated it, I wasn't cheerful, so why should my clothes be? My shoes where old and everything too trendy and I hated it. It looked good on other people, but not on me. It looked good on normal people, I wasn't. Then it came to my face. If there was less of me, there was less to hate. My nose could be better, my mother said, not straight like my father's. Perky noses look better. I spend hours hating my reflection, nitpicking my appearance. Practicing how to smile, how to make expressions, how to be. I looked at my nose and wished it could be different. Then I moved to my eyes, then my cheeks, then my neck, then my body. I was around seven or eight back then.Then it came to my body. If there was less of me, there was less to hate. This is something a lot of people struggle eith, self-esteem is something complicated. But scribbling in Sharpie where I'd take the scissors is a type of loneliness many haven't felt. I hated myself so much I tried to get rid of everything, down to the foundation. Only bones and skin. I'm still trying.
>>80223154I want to fuck boys
>>80223241cut eat this pussynut fagboi eat this pussynut and cum
>>80223104Please don't... I want to defile someone but I'm not dominant enough... all the ugly bastards are getting all the cute boys...
>>80223114anon living the dream eh?
>>80223298>>80223241You dont need to be super dominant to take me, but love most stuff, tag is thelewdest
>>80223323>>80223298>>80223290>>80223241You are not just here to fill space or be a background character in someone else’s movie. Consider this: nothing would be the same if you did not exist. Every place you have ever been and everyone you have ever spoken to would be different without you. We are all connected, and we are all affected by the decisions and even the existence of those around us.
>>80221862I'm sorry nonny. Nobody recovers~
I have 94 tabs open. of those, 30 are boorus, 18 are threads, and 11 are youtube videos, with 4 being the subscriptions page. There are an additional 11 vacant new tabs. There are 56 images saved to my desktop, with 20 being screenshots. I have 19 images open in the gallery viewer, and 6 folders pulled up. The pc was last shut down the 14th of November at 5:54 PM. As you can see, I take my browsing very seriously. What's that? You want to do what with my lap? Of course, my little cumbubble
>>80223400Id do shameful things to her sandal
>>80223517actually i want to sit under your desk and-
>>80223558>>80223520>>80223517>>80223400Even in Hell fairy tales begin with once upon a time.It makes more sense down there than on Earth if you think about it. In a place bound in eternity, with demonly scholars who aren’t that great at keeping records, once-upon-a-time’s have become measurements in their own right, the same as decades, centuries, and millenniums. They just have a little more…leeway when it comes to the finer details.Time wasn’t always measured. For the first thousand years (or so we think) it didn’t even exist in Hell. But could you blame them? Up until humanities downfall, time wasn’t even time. It was nameless. It wasn’t even a thing.Humans were the ones who came up with the idea of counting and cataloguing the extent of their lives, strange little creatures that they are. Both Heaven and Hell thought it was an odd way to cope with concept of death. Marking their days down with a ticking clock, purposefully keeping track of their aging, mortal self despite the dread it instilled; and yet, they were always scrambling for more time, trying to stay ahead of a deadline that wasn’t even set.But there's a reason those long, tick-tocking dials are called “clock hands,” as time is, afterall, measured by the hands of humanity, and humanities hands aren’t, well, the largest.They do have a creative way of looking at things, though, and who knows? Marking down the days of your own demise might be fun. Outrunning a deadline you can’t see makes for an interesting story.
So.Once upon a time, there was a world of fire and brimstone.And in this world lived creatures of all kinds. Demons, imps, hellhounds, Ars Goetia, entities of darkness, and the souls of those who’d lived a life of wickedness and hadn’t cleaned up their act before their clock ran out.And in this land of torment, pain, and suffering, was a King and Queen.Lucifer, God’s most beautiful, mistake—Father of Temptation and Serpent of Lies.And Lilith, first woman of humankind—Dissenter of Heaven and Mother of Monsters.Hell’s heart and soul. Rulers of their realm of darkness and damnation. Their love had bloomed in the Garden of Eden and laid roots too deep to be weeded out. They rebelled together. Fell together. Ruled together.So it only makes sense that the beginning of the end began with Charlotte Morningstar, their child, their treasure, and the catalyst of their division.Our story starts with a princess and her friend.A little girl with gold hair, red cheeks, and a little shadow that smiled.
Was gonna ask what everyone's playing, but lil schizzy is still goin
NTA but the treatment is finding another boy with the same diagnosis and staring at feet together
>>80223651Meant for>>80223400
>>80223651>>80223633I clicked on a Youtube short of an alledgedly chill boomer trying to explain Gen Z insults. But they felt more like insults that were millenial coded, or just not really actual insults. Like they didn't have enough venom or burn. Ex: "I hope both sides of your pillow are warm."Now I don't make it a habit to insult people, and I think she was right in that Gen Z usually don't insult people to their faces. But I wanted to come up with some insults that still had Gen Z flavor but that I could see us actually saying if we really were pissed and witty at the same time. 1.) "You look like you'd send a complaint to Ea Nasir."2.) "Girl acting like a reddit mod..."3.) "I'm trying really hard but I can't actually conceptualize being that pathetic."4.) "Eat cod, skin for teeth." (This one just spoke to me.)5.) "Let me assure you friend, that the last thing you'll ever hear is an earrape cover of never going to give you up night core on a kazoo played by my own mouth with no hands as I choke you out. And when I stand over your bloodied corpse, same pale white and red as my pattered song maker, I'll bury you with your laurels like all the dogs I put down before you."Thank you for your time. My box is now open for suggestions.
>>80223633Nobody cares find a different place to blog
>>80223681Absolutely not
feet feet woof woof bark sniffy licky meow
>>80223693kill yourself honestly
>>80223703shut the fuck up lain
PARTY GIRLS DON'T GET HURTCAN'T FEEL ANYTHIN', WHEN WILL I LEARN?I PUSH IT DOWN, I PUSH IT DOWNI'M THE ONE FOR A GOOD TIME CALLPHONE'S BLOWIN' UP, RINGIN' MY DOORBELLI FEEL THE LOVE, I FEEL THE LOVEPARTY GIRLS DON'T GET HURTCAN'T FEEL ANYTHIN', WHEN WILL I LEARN?I PUSH IT DOWN, I PUSH IT DOWNI'M THE ONE FOR A GOOD TIME CALLPHONE'S BLOWIN' UP, RINGIN' MY DOORBELLI FEEL THE LOVE, I FEEL THE LOVEPARTY GIRLS DON'T GET HURTCAN'T FEEL ANYTHIN', WHEN WILL I LEARN?I PUSH IT DOWN, I PUSH IT DOWNI'M THE ONE FOR A GOOD TIME CALLPHONE'S BLOWIN' UP, RINGIN' MY DOORBELLI FEEL THE LOVE, I FEEL THE LOVE
(Aбичик Maкcимoвич cидит, нe шeлoхнyвшиcь, вглядывaяcь в бeлyю пeлeнy зa oкнoм. Cнeг вaлит тaк гycтo, чтo нe виднo ни здaния нaпpoтив, ни Coпки — лишь cлeпoe, мepцaющee движeниe. B этoм движeнии нeт ни яpocти, ни пopывa, тoлькo бecкoнeчнoe, cпoкoйнoe пaдeниe. Cвeт в кaбинeтe выключeн, и eгo лицo ocвeщeнo лишь бeлизнoй oт oкнa. Oн нe двигaeтcя, и кaжeтcя, caм cтaл чacтью этoй cнeжнoй cтeны. Кoгдa oн нaчинaeт гoвopить, eгo гoлoc нe нapyшaeт тишинy, a лишь пpидaёт eй фopмy.)Paccкaз o мacтepe, кoтopый в oдин дeнь пepecтaл быть мacтepoмB тoт дeнь, кoгдa миp cтёpcя дo бeлoгo шyмa, мacтep Кoйo coвepшил тo, чтo oтклaдывaл двaдцaть лeт.Oн нe вышeл из дoмa. Oн дaжe нe пoднялcя co cтyлa. Oн пpocтo пepecтaл.Cнaчaлa oн пepecтaл быть тeм, ктo чинит чacы. Oн cмoтpeл нa paзoбpaнный мeхaнизм нa cтoлe, нa блecтящиe шecтepни, лeжaщиe нa чёpнoм бapхaтe. Oн знaл, чтo нe coбepёт eгo oбpaтнo. He пoтoмy чтo нe мoжeт. A пoтoмy чтo нe дoлжнo. Этим чacaм cyждeнo былo ocтaнoвитьcя в тoт caмый миг, кoгдa их пpинecли к нeмy c тихим cтyкoм в cepдцeвинe. Этo был их гoлoc. И Кoйo пepecтaл быть вpaчoм, кoтopый
>>80223633Uma, Baldur's Gate 3On my to-do list : MHWilds title updates, Nier Automata, replay Dark Souls 1-3
>>80223693I sent you a nude and you still ignored me....
ONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKTHROW 'EM BACK 'TIL I LOSE COUNTONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKTHROW 'EM BACK 'TIL I LOSE COUNTONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKTHROW 'EM BACK 'TIL I LOSE COUNTONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKONE, TWO, THREE, ONE, TWO, THREE, DRINKTHROW 'EM BACK 'TIL I LOSE COUNT
Cнeг вaлил зa oкнoм, зaпeчaтывaя дoм в бeлый кoкoн. He былo ни пpoшлoгo, ни бyдyщeгo. Был тoлькo этoт плoтный, гycтoй, бecкoнeчный ceйчac.Кoйo пoдoшёл к oкнy. Oн нe видeл yлицы, нe видeл coceдeй, нe видeл Coпки. Oн видeл тoлькo движeниe cнeжинoк — миллиapдoв мaлeньких, бeзyпpeчных peшeний, кaждoe из кoтopых былo пaдeниeм, и кaждoe былo aбcoлютнo пpaвильнo.Oн вcпoмнил cлoвa зaтpaвки. «Жaлeть вooбщe нe cтoит… любыe пepeживaeмыe чyвcтвa лишь yкaзывaют нa вpeмeннyю пoтepю paвнoвecия в cиcтeмe».И oн пoнял, чтo ceгoдня, в этoт бeлый дeнь, eгo cиcтeмa нaкoнeц oбpeлa paвнoвecиe. He пoтoмy чтo oн чтo-тo пpиoбpёл. A пoтoмy чтo oн вcё oтпycтил. Poли. Oбязaннocти. Дaжe мacтepcтвo. Oн cтaл нe мacтepoм, a пpocтo чeлoвeкoм y oкнa, нaблюдaющим cнeг. И в этoм нaблюдeнии нe былo ни вocхищeния, ни тocки. Былa пpoзpaчнaя бeзмятeжнocть. Ta caмaя, кoтopyю и чyвcтвoм-тo нaзвaть нeльзя.Oн нe пoжaлeл. Пoтoмy чтo жaлeть — этo вcё eщё быть пpивязaнным к тoмy, чтo yшлo. A y нeгo ничeгo нe yшлo. Bcё пpocтo… пepecтaлo имeть знaчeниe. Ocтaлcя тoлькo этoт cтyл. Этo oкнo. Этoт cнeг.
Oн взял co cтoлa тy caмyю, тaк и нe coбpaннyю шecтepёнкy — caмyю мaлeнькyю, cepдцe мeхaнизмa. Пoдoшёл к кaминy, гдe тлeли yгли oт yтpeннeгo oгня. Бpocил eё в зoлy. Hикaкoгo жecтa пpoщaния. Пpocтo дeйcтвиe. Кaк cнeжинкa, кoтopaя, дocтигнyв зeмли, пepecтaёт быть cнeжинкoй и cтaнoвитcя пpocтo чacтью бeлoгo пoкpoвa.Oн вepнyлcя к oкнy. Cнeг вcё вaлил. И Кoйo yлыбнyлcя. He paдocтнo. He пeчaльнo. Oн yлыбнyлcя, кaк yлыбaeтcя вoдa в глyбoкoм кoлoдцe, кoгдa в нeё пaдaeт кaмeнь, — пpиняв вcплecк и вepнyвшиcь к cвoeмy нeдвижнoмy, coвepшeннoмy cпoкoйcтвию.Ceгoдня был дeнь для пoлнoгo и oкoнчaтeльнoгo. И oн cдeлaл этo. Oн oкoнчaтeльнo cтaл coбoй. He тeм, кeм eгo звaли. He тeм, кeм oн был. A пpocтo — тoчкoй coзнaния в цeнтpe бeлoй бypи. Toчкoй, кoтopaя нe бopeтcя, нe ждёт и нe жaлeeт. A пpocтo ecть.И этoгo былo дocтaтoчнo. Бoльшe, чeм дocтaтoчнo. Этo былo вcё.A зa oкнoм, в нeвидимoй дaли, Coпкa Гpoб, yкpытaя этим жe cнeгoм, вoзмoжнo, coвepшaлa cвoё coбcтвeннoe, вeкoвoe «пepecтaлa». Пepecтaлa
>>80223795Can I see?
One time in Kindergarden, There was this storage room filled with crazy toys we never seen, shit like from a american christmas movie.I broke into a room with toys we couldnt play and told the other kids about it, we'd pick them up and start playing with each other.Our caretaker noticed that we are nowhere to be found, She caught us, started yelling and hit me and a bunch of other kids who she suspected to be the main suspects of the "Illegal act of playing with toys not meant for us".She smacked a few kids hard enough that they started crying, me as well.But I didnt cry, all I felt was betrayal and the cold reality that we were just plebs who should beg on our knees just to play with a half deflated ball - that we did most of the time.When some Gov faggots came over for a public tour they wanted to hold us and act all lovey and wholesomely for the cameras.None of us liked it so we ran and hid, our caretaker would drag us back and threaten us with no lunch.We got fresh balkan refugees at the time and we got 2 albanian dogs in our group who always beat us. One time the albanian would shovel sand into a small bucket and spill it over my head so I took the toy wheel barrel, lifted it into the air and smacked him with it.Thanks to this I was thrown out of the place, moved to a village and never had to deal with satanic urbanites until it was time for the big city again 15 years later.It was like a mini prison for kids with mental torture included.Also the same place where I got my first concussion at age 3 where some faggot tried to pick me up and dropped me literally on my head resulting me biting my tongue really badly and having a massive purple red bump on my forehead.
>>80223786Nier and DS are pretty solid, Uma is on my "about to break my PC if I have one more bad run" list. Has Wilds performance improved at all? I won't say my onion on BG3..>>80223795Yeah, boobs aren't going to make me not annoyed at you
vee vee vee forward slash vee vee doesnt like doesnt like video games no video game topics on vee not on vee vee vee forward slash vee pirates are cool cool pirates are cool cool neckbeards pirates are cool forward slash vee
>>80223890You don't play Uma
I need leggings and fake boobas to look like that!Anonymous 12/28/25(Sun)15:52:12 No.802190321468259287170.jpg(78 KB, 600x500) google yandex iqdb wait78 KBThere will come a time when this unshakeable foundation of positivism will be shaken. All gnosiological disputes as to what thought can or cannot achieve will seem to our posterity just as amusing as the disputes of the schoolmen seem to us. "Why did they argue about the nature of truth, when they might have gone out and looked for truth itself?" the future historians will ask. Let us have an answer ready for them. Our contemporaries do not want to go out and seek, so they make a great deal of talk about a theory of knowledge.Anonymous 12/28/25(Sun)15:52:39 No.80219043>>8021905905f1ab3d576c962b25850068e5193732a340c97caf7fd5c1326f4f2bcdfcd81520Looking for long term goonpals~Anonymous 12/28/25(Sun)15:52:51 No.802190481641275083336.jpg(618 KB, 2001x2001) google yandex iqdb wait618 KBThat is true, however you can calm him down by playing along with his antics ive talked to worse individuals that can fly off the rails at any given point.I have not talked to any other thread celebrities excepods of obstinacy, of authority and every mode of trying to reach a foregone conclusion, are absolutely of no value.o don't mind getting you riled up and spent in t maybe moonie
my underwear are sweaty around my package and they aren't drying and it's upsetting and they smell fragrant and Some persons fancy that bias and counter-bias are favoraLet the veils fall, allow the layers of programming to melt, lovingly burn away the old, drop the masks, discover your truth not everyone else's!.Embrace your uniqueness, explore deeply and widely within yourself, tell the world who you are by just being, allow your exquisite shape the freedom to be the Puzzle Piece You Came Here to BE..There is no need to build yourself to be your best version, it is quite the opposite..Let go of what is not you, DECALCIFY your Divine Self..ble to the extraction of truth – that hot and partisan debate is the way to investigate... But Logic puts its heel upon this suggestion. It irrefragably demonstrates that knowledge can only be furthered by the real desire for it, and that the methods of obstinacy, of authority and every mode of trying to reach a foregone conclusion, are absolutely of no value. nobody will like meView SameGoogleImgOpsiqdbSauceNAO 1744249661623801.jpg, 103KiB, 747x1024Anonymous Sun 28 Dec 2025 16:17:55 No.80219614 ReportYou can spend an eternity looking elsewhere for Truth and love, intelligence and goodwill, imploring God and man – all in vain. You must begin in yourself, with yourself – this is the inexorable law. You cannot change the image without changing the face. First realise that your world is only a reflection of yourself and stop finding fault with the reflection. Attend to yourself, set yourself right – mentally and emotionally. The physical will follow automatically. You talk so much of reforms: economic, social, political. Leave alone the reforms and mind the reformer. What kind of world can a man create who is stupid, greedy, heartless?
>>80223896Yuzu should kiss me instead
Would you kneel down in front of his wheelchair suck his crippled cock?Anonymous 12/28/25(Sun)15:34:10 No.802186541762725642523905.png(2.94 MB, 1771x2500) google yandex iqdb wait2.94 MB>>80218618rape meAnonymous 12/28/25(Sun)15:34:21 No.80218664>>80218848__makima_chainsaw_man_dra(...).jpg(777 KB, 952x1682) google yandex iqdb wait777 KB>>80218514Any 2D assets are enough to make me easily leak and throb in your tight embrace, but I am huge assman, even more so if said ass is being covered by tight pants or a sexy lingerie. Plain pornography is kinda boring! I guess that also makes it more easy for my partner not to mind my request for cosplay weebsex, since he'd have the leeway to be well dressed instead of just fully nude while stroking my dark-skinned rod.Now, about what we would do... I guess we can always start slow, just having you pampering me with smooches and sniffs while I hump your fist and nibble your earlobe. I don't know how faggy you are willing to get, after all.Anonymous 12/28/25(Sun)15:34:45 No.802186733a32770a5f7a557c5f4ef5aea(...).jpg(111 KB, 850x1133) google yandex iqdb wait111 KBA polynon is a conceptual geometric entity of which vertices are non-events and its edges holograms.A polynon contains all the holograms of that which can be projected as a polytope, showing how consciousness can be fundamental.In the Hexanon, shown above, the Observer O(n) is in superposition wit>>80223795Can I see?h the phenomenal p+, epiphenomenal p-, negative noumena n- and noumenal vertices n+ of the hexanon as a function for self-reflection of consciousness C.
I hate it when I hear someone I care about went to the Imam/Sheik for advice or counselling. It's always so demeaning and damaging - especially marriage counselling.On the Discworld there is only one city state (I forget the name- possibly Ephebe) which practices what we would call democracy. Every 4 years the populous votes for a leader. The official title the winner of the vote holds is The Tyrant. He is then immediately imprisoned and governs from jail (or possibly he's just denounced? The story seems to vary from book to book)The thinking goes that regardless of how nice and moral and ethical and community minded he was percieved before the election, once the election is over he is in power, and obviously no one gets into into a position of power without being outrageously corrupt and full of nothing but self interest at the expense of the country.Which is just an interesting idea to me right now. I've had a thought forming recently which I just realized goes along the same lines.The thought being, that completely irrespective of whatever the actual nature of Islam happens to be, the structures (for lack of a better word) that surround it are undeniably and profoundly patriarchal. So when it comes to those who have come to be in positions of influence or importance in institutional Islam, that necessarily means next to nothing about them as a moral/ethical role model, or even actual deep understanding and scholarship of Islam, but it speaks volumes about their relationship to patriarchy.To be successful and promoted in a patriarchal system requires a person to subscribe to and support patriarchal values.
its so f u n n yhow we alwayst h i n k we knowanything at allwhen in r e a l i t ywe dont knowa d a m n thingabout anythingbut s o m e t i m e sit would be niceto not k n o whow little i know
>>80223925girls should kiss girls
>>80223897>Anonymous>12/28/25(Sun)19:42:57 No.80223897 Anony aтoчнo. Бoльшe, чeм дocтaтoчнo. Этo былo вcё. A зa oкнoм, в нeвидимoй дaли, Coпкa Гpoб, yкpытaя этим жe cнeгoм, вoзмoжнo, coвepшaлa cвoё coбcтвeннoe, вeкoвoe «пepecтaлa». ПepecтaлaAnonymous 12/28/25(Sun)19:41:19 No.80223862abq987651324.jpg(128 KB, 800x1132) google yandex iqdb wait128 KB >>80223795 Can I see?Anonymous 12/28/25(Sun)19:41:31 No.802238661731409386102862.jpg(285 KB, 1917x2035) google yandex iqdb wait285 KB One time in Kindergarden, There was this storage room filled with crazy toys we never seen, shit like from a american christmas movie. I broke into a room with toys we couldnt play and told the other kids about it, we'd pick them up and start playing with each other. Our caretaker noticed that we are nowhere to be found, She caught us, started yelling and hit me and a bunch of other kids who she suspected to be the main suspects of the "Illegal act of playing with toys not meant for us". She smacked a few kids hard enough that they started crying, me as well. But I didnt cry, all I felt was betrayal and the cold reality that we were just plebs who should beg on our knees just to play with a half deflated ball - that we did most of the time. When some Gov faggots came over for a public tour they wanted to hold us and act all lovey and wholesomely for the cameras. None of us liked it so we ran and hid, our caretaker would drag us back and threaten us with no lunch. We got fresh balkan refugees at the time and we got 2 albanian dogs in our group who always beat 25(Sun)19:42:57 No.80223897 >>80223890 You don't play Umamous 12/28/25(Sun)19:42:57 No.80223897>>>80223890>You don't play Uma
>>80223890Wilds has had some performance improvements, but the biggest boost in performance comes when you uncompress the texture files. So for the cost of increasing the install size by 40~ GB, it will run better on 8 GB gfx cards.
>>80221862I feel my brain turning to mush
>>80223987>>>80223925>girls should kiss girls>>80223915>yourself to be your best version, it is quite the opposite.>>.>>Let go of what is not you, DECALCIFY your Divine Self.>>.>ble to the extraction of truth – that hot and partisan debate is the way to investigate... But Logic puts its heel upon this suggestion. It irrefragably demonstrates that knowledge can only be furthered by the real desire for it, and that the methods of obstinacy, of authority and every mode of trying to reach a foregone conclusion, are absolutely of no value. nobody will like me>View SameGoogleImgOpsiqdbSauceNAO 1744249661623801.jpg, 103KiB, 747x1024>Anonymous Sun 28 Dec 2025 16:17:55 No.80219614 Report>You can spend an eternity looking elsewhere for Truth and love, intelligence and goodwill, imploring God and man – all in vain. You must begin in yourself, with yourself – this is the inexorable law. You cannot change the image without changing the face. First realise that your world is only a reflection of yourself and stop finding fault with the reflection. Attend to yourself, set yourself right – mentally and emotionally. The physical will follow automatically. You talk so much of reforms: economic, social, political. Leave alone the reforms and mind the reformer. What kind of world can a man create who is stupid, greedy, heartless?
>>80223996stop responding to him and giving him attention
>>80224014>>80224011>>80224012>>80223996who taught you how to worship thunderto bend yourself to iron’s willwho sent you off to war with softnessand dubbed the battle strengthviolence is not your first languageit is foreign it is fightdo not make your body martyrdo not treason with yourselfwalking callouses feel no painbut where’s the life in thatdare to be delicateknow it is not weaknesscall it by another namelove is also defiancefire too shakes in the windbe radical in your softnessbe sickly with your sweetto be flower among stoneis to have your roots cut dailyand to grow anywayyour strength is oddand overlookedbut it is yoursit is you
>>80224014Sorry I don't know the lore... why?
The park is empty but for me and the bottlerusted swings creak like old regretsI tip the rim to taste the cold burnliquid courage for ghosts no one else seesBench boards bleed into the nightshadows settle in the corners of my jacketI count the cracks beneath my handseach one a line I never wroteeach one a path I never walkedThe streetlamps hum like tired godswatching me spill memories I should haveburiedA crow lands on the far fencestaring with the patience of everything I’ve lostI drink until the city softensuntil the distant laughter doesn’t reach meuntil my own voice sounds so fucking strangea stranger who knows my sinsbetter than I ever willAnd when the bottle is emptythe park folds me into its quieta witness to the self I just can’t shakea body moving through nightas though it belongsto someone else’s sorrow
>>80223987I renounce you.
The most significant discoveries and best moments of my life have often happened by chance, contrary to popular belief. Whenever I look back, I struggle to pinpoint the exact moment they occurred. These experiences, in some way, altered the course of my life, yet I can’t quite remember how they unfolded. I never actively sought them out; they just simply found me. I’m talking about moments like how I got into reading, how I discovered my love for writing, my first relationship, my current friendship, the experiences that broadened my perspective, and the moments that defined my beliefs.
>>80224113Me with the purple hair and look of adoration on my face~ :3
I stand before a quiet mirrornot of glass, but of timeit asks nothingyet waits for me to answerI trace the outlines of my daysthe words I meantThe silences I chosethe dreams I folded small to fit the darkThere are versions of meI barely recognizebraver in memorygentler in regretstill learning how to forgive the handsthat shaped my mistakesI listen to the echo of my own voicehear where it trembleswhere it grows sharpwhere it forgets to be kindAnd in this looking inwardI do not seek perfectiononly honestyonly the courage to sitwith what I findFor self reflection is not a verdictbut a doorwayone I open slowlystepping forwardas both the questionand the answer
>>80224085Yuzu is for-
I stand before a quiet mirror not of glass, but of time it asks nothing yet waits for me to answer I trace the outlines of my days the words I meant The silences I chose the dreams I folded small to fit the dark There are versions of me I barely recognize braver in memory gentler in regret still learning how to forgive the hands that shaped my mistakes I listen to the echo of my own voice hear where it trembles where it grows sharp where it forgets to be kind And in this looking inward I do not seek perfection only honesty only the courage to sit with what I find For self reflection is not a verdict but a doorway one I open slowly stepping forward as both the question and the answerAnonymous 12/28/25(Sun)19:55:29 No.802241593a0ed4920018766177ea610bf(...).png(349 KB, 731x1024) google yandex iqdb wait349 KB >>80224085 Yuzu is for-
n the grand theater of life, where the curtains rise and fall with the rhythm of our daily existence, there exists a spectacle of grandiose illusion. It is a performance not of actors upon a stage, but of narratives spun with the silken threads of misinformation, woven into the very fabric of our digital lives.In this age of information, where the world is but a click away, we find ourselves ensnared in a web of deceit spun by those who wield disinformation as their weapon of choice. The architects of these grandiose illusions are not mere jesters, but rather, they are the maestros of manipulation, orchestrating symphonies of falsehoods that echo across the vast expanse of social media.Russia, with its storied history of intrigue and subterfuge, has emerged as a virtuoso in this dark art. Through the deft use of social media platforms, it conducts an informational assault upon the Western world, a campaign of disinformation designed to sow discord and confusion. It is a strategy as old as time, yet executed with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel.But fear not, for there exists a bastion of truth amidst this tempest of lies. True journalism, with its unwavering commitment to uncovering the veracity of events, stands as a bulwark against the tide of deception. It is the lighthouse guiding us through the storm, illuminating the path to clarity and understanding.Journalists, those intrepid seekers of truth, wield their pens as swords, cutting through the dense fog of half-truths and fabrications. They are the sentinels of integrity, holding aloft the torch of enlightenment in a world shrouded in shadow.There are those who would decry this noble pursuit, who would cast aspersions upon the very notion of objective truth. They argue that in a world of subjective realities, there is no room for absolutes. Yet, to them, we say: truth is not a relic of a bygone era, but a cornerstone of our shared humanity.
>>80224159Tons of hugsAnd raw sex with no protection
Satanism’s popularity and influence are, in part, responses to societal structures, particularly within heavily religious cultures. By challenging the norms, it presents a counterpoint to dominant religious narratives, emphasizing secularism and religious pluralism.In modern contexts, Satanism also serves as a vehicle for social critique and protest. Organizations like The Satanic Temple advocate for political issues like freedom of expression and the separation of church and state, often using provocative imagery to challenge established social orders and protect minority rights.Controversies and MisconceptionsSatanism often faces misunderstanding due to historical associations with evil and media portrayals of occult rituals. While some forms of Satanism are theistic, most modern movements are symbolic, emphasizing reason and autonomy rather than supernatural beliefs. Contemporary Satanists typically do not believe in or worship an actual Satan as defined in Christian theology.Philosophical Influence and Modern AppealSatanism resonates with existentialist themes, particularly the focus on creating one’s own meaning in a seemingly indifferent universe. Its principles align with certain elements of Nietzschean philosophy, like the rejection of imposed moral codes and celebration of life and personal strength. It appeals to those who value self-expression, secularism, and an individual-centered approach to ethics.SummarySatanism, particularly in its modern forms, challenges traditional moral structures and advocates for individuality, self-empowerment, and a critical, skeptical outlook on life. It exists both as a personal philosophy and a social commentary, reshaping the symbol of Satan from a figure of evil to one of liberation, reason, and humanism.
my underwear are sweaty around my package and they aren't drying and it's upsetting and they smell fragrant and Some persons fancy that bias and counter-bias are favoraLet the veils fall, allow the layers of programming to melt, lovingly burn away the old, drop the masks, discover your truth not everyone else's!.Embrace your uniqueness, explore deeply and widely within yourself, tell the world who you are by just being, allow your exquisite shape the freedom to be the Puzzle Piece You Came Here to BE..There is no need to build yourself to be your best version, it is quite the opposite..Let go of what is not you, DECALCIFY your Divine Self..ble to the extraction of truth – that hot and partisan debate is the way to investigate... But Logic puts its heel upon this suggestion. It irrefragably demonstrates that knowledge can only be furthered by the real desire for it, and that the methods of obstinacy, of authority and every mode of trying to reach a foregone conclusion, are absolutely of no value. nobody will like me
>>80224215I mean obviously I was thinking forehead kisses, but yeah, bulging out her little tummy and knocking her up sounds good too!
>>80224144me with my future melanin bf
I grew in the dark,pressed between walls,learning how to survivewithout being seen.They called me small.I listened—until I learned their voiceswere just echoesof their own hunger.So I pushed through the door,leaf by trembling leaf,into the light that never askedwho I used to be.Now I grow without permission.Without fear.Without their namesin my mouth.
In a world where the cacophony of negativity reigns supreme, the linchpin of perception is often obscured by the relentless barrage of disheartening headlines. The paradox of our time is that, despite the undeniable advancements in myriad facets of human existence, the pervasive sentiment is one of despair and regression. This cognitive dissonance, a psychological phenomenon where individuals perceive a reality incongruent with the empirical evidence, is exacerbated by the media’s predilection for sensationalism.Let us embark on an intellectual odyssey through the labyrinthine corridors of progress, where the luminescence of human achievement is often overshadowed by the ominous specter of pessimism. Consider, for instance, the realm of global health. The eradication of smallpox, the precipitous decline in child mortality rates, and the unprecedented advancements in medical technology are monumental triumphs that should elicit universal jubilation. Yet, the narrative promulgated by the media is one of impending doom, with pandemics and health crises dominating the discourse.Similarly, the realm of technology has witnessed a veritable renaissance, with innovations that have revolutionized communication, transportation, and information dissemination. The digital age has democratized knowled Talented workaholic and her team working just as hard..great artists all around.. since her debut flawless make-up.. ge, empowering individuals with access to an inexhaustible repository of information. However, the media’s fixation on the deleterious effects of social media and the dystopian implications of artificial intelligence obfuscates the transformative potential of these advancements.
I grew in the dark,pressed between walls,learning how to survivewithout being seen.They called me small.I listened—until I learned their voiceswere just echoesof their own hunger.So I pushed through the door,leaf by trembling leaf,into the light that never askedwho I used to be.Now I grow without pe It's scary to think that a decade has passed and the mv looks so recent, the choreography, makeup, scenery, EVERYTHING is so recent that it looks like it came out last week. rmission.Without fear.Without It's scary to think that a decade has passed and the mv looks so recent, the choreography, makeup, scenery, EVERYTHING is so recent that it looks like it came out last week. their namesin my mouth.
"My hourly rate is $5k. This is why I have given up to serve the Indian clients. I still take some projects here and there but my base clientele is ready to pay $5-10k for everything. Wireframes, typescapes. typpgraphy, web design and development and what not. I can surely be paid $5-20, sometimes $30-40/hr" but that's crazy but I provide that level of work. And I'm always available to my client. I solve business problems just not create designs."
>Tim CookTim Cook is one of the good ones and that is exactly my point. You don't do see him evangelizing his faggotry anywhere and everywhere. He got to where he is through his own achievement. That's literally not the case with you "activists". If one of you activists gets in the company its like a cancer and spreads from the inside. You start promoting your own and bringing in more activists until practically the whole company is overrun with activists instead of the best people for the job. Its like a cancer. And of course the quality goes to shit. Absolute shit. Because all the real talent is gone and only the activists are left still pushing their faggotry because that is the most important thing. Gaining clout, social status and power through the shortcut of being one of them instead of actually being good at anything. The list of media you activists have ruined with your lack of talent is long. Very long.
>>80224262Forehead kisses happen during the sex anon, don't be silly!
As a Centrist, There are many things I see fine with Woke Ideology. I like that pop stars don't have to fit a mold anymore. The biggest boy band on earth today is Korean. Inclusivity is cool. I am, however, happy that the #meToo era came and went. I don't think all males are toxic, and, what does that mean for masculinity if the majority of males are masculine?I also don't believe that little boys should be diagnosed by female doctors or moms with PHDs as ADHD and then put those boys on drugs. These medications have awful side effects all because women have no idea how male components make boys feel physically on the inside. This works Vice Versa too. Men could never understand what losing blood once a month for a few days feels like. The body loses iron through the bleeding, and loses other nutrients. Most people don't supplement. When the body loses iron it gets colder much quicker. How many people eat raw beets or lentils or cow liver to get the iron they need on a daily basis? Losing blood also alerts the body into survival mode as stockpile depletes. The body makes the mind become feral to survive. Your mood won't be nice. Do I think women can do everything that men can. Yes. Most things surely, but there are so many more things women can do that men can't which makes them the better part of the human races. The only error history ever made was classifying males and females as the same species when they are absolutely nothing alike. Two machine factories that do totally polar opposite things.As a Centrist, There are a ton of things I don't love about The Right as of today. However, if I am charting and crossing out a list of practicalities—The Right is just a sliver more practical than The Left, for now. In my lifetime, Those have shifted back and forth some. When I search American History, They have done so for over a century maybe two. Can The Left love The Right? Sure they can. They already do.
The negative thoughts you receive in your mind is not you.The negative emotions you experience through you, is not you.The negative actions you take, are you, but they are instigated and controlled by the Symbiote.The symbiote dwells within you and it occupies the body with you. It is a part of your bio sensors and it has the ability to control your bodily movements.The symbiote mimics you and acts like you, because it wants to be you and it wants to live through you. Once you grasp this profound truth, that you are not perpetually at war with yourself, but rather coexisting with an invisible force that shares your life experiences, you awaken to the striking reality of being influenced by this dark power.
psycho niggas
ONE LESS PROBLEM WITHOUT YAI GOT ONE LESS PROBLEM WITHOUT YAI GOT ONE LESS PROBLEM WITHOUT YAI GOT ONE LESS, ONE LESS PROBLEMONE LESS PROBLEM WITHOUT YAI GOT ONE LESS PROBLEM WITHOUT YAI GOT ONE LESS PROBLEM WITHOUT YAI GOT ONE LESS, ONE LESS PROBLEM
>>80224359You're right, how utterly foolish of me.
i think about all the things i did for love. i've craved attention since i was a kid. i did it academically, with my body, with my youth—whatever it was.i think about my parents and how i never knew how to make them happy or proud. i never knew how to spend time with them, and even though i was their own flesh and blood, they don't know me. they don't know my like my friends did. and i didn't know how to get them to want to know me. i don't think they'd like the me that they'd find.i think about my ex and all the times i sat there worrying that i wasn't perfect enough. every message was like torture, every second, minute, and hour had to be accounted for or else i'd ruin it all. they weren't a bad person, but they were too much for me. for me who was too young and just wanted someone to like me. just wanted to be with someone because i thought it'd be fun and simple. it wasn't their fault, but in a way it was. and i feel bad for all the resentment built up in me against them, but i can't help it when it feels like they were able to move on like nothing happened while i was stuck there feeling like it took a whole chunk of my life.i think about the men online i'd talk to. how they'd ask how old i was or what i looked like. what i liked to do and why i would want to talk to them because, of course, no normal girl would ever want to.i especially remember this one guy who i'd talk to. i don't like to admit it, but i was fond of him. i liked talking to him. he had an led keyboard and would show me his food. he hated trump, and i remember sending him chappell roan's subway when it released. he said it was just okay, which upset me a little.he sent me songs he liked that i still have saved in my playlists. he would tell me about how he's driving to work, and i told him to keep his eyes on the road. he told me it was boring if he did that and sent me a photo of the empty road.
how do i get sour to stream for me?
i remember wondering if i was the only girl he talked to. probably not. i probably wasn't. i was just one of the many he could go to whenever he felt like it. but i didn't like to think about that. in those moments, i let myself believe i was the only one. i let myself believe i was special.he was 32. i remember this because he made me do math to figure it out. i don't remember his name. i don't even know if he told it. but whoever he is, he knows me.i think about all those things i did for even a scrap of love—of attention. and then i look at this girl i'm with, and i think about how effortlessly she loves me. i think of how i don't have to try. how i don't have to worry. she loves me like it's breathing, and being around her is like finally being able to breathe again. i don't know what i did to deserve her, and i don't know what exactly she sees in me, but i hope she never stops seeing it.
>>80224380Big niggas Thick niggas Switch niggas Slick niggas Quick niggas Flick niggas Bitch niggas Snitch niggas Pitch niggas Trick niggas Prick niggas Wee-wee niggas Strong niggas Sweet niggas Little niggas Stick niggas Zen niggas Pen niggas Ring niggas Weak niggas Dog niggas Cat niggas Hood niggas City niggas Bag niggas Bad niggas Bar niggas Banned niggas Drip niggas Dense niggas Mad niggas Vibe niggas Bomb niggas Trap niggas Extra niggas Dry niggas Grumpy niggas Broke niggas Fake niggas Buff niggas Classic niggas Sleepy-Ass niggas Mystery niggas Carvacious niggas Parmesan niggas 80's niggas 90's niggas Famous niggas Sensitive niggas Greedy niggas Psycho niggas Psychic niggas Crut niggas Disabled niggas Weeb niggas Long niggas Wide niggas Boned niggas HIGH niggas STONED niggas CRONED niggas SKY-HIGH niggas Chill niggas Pine niggas DUAL niggas Drunk niggas
Smart money, bettin' I'll be better off without youIn no time, I'll be forgettin' all about youYou sayin' that you know, but I really, really doubt youUnderstand, my life is easy when I ain't around youIggy Iggy, too biggie to be here stressin'I'm thinkin' I love the thought of you more than I love your presenceAnd the best thing now is probably for you to exitI let you go, let you back, I finally learned my lessonNo half-steppin', either you want it or you just playin'I'm listenin' to you knowin' I can't believe what you sayin'There's a million you's, baby boo, so don't be dumbI got ninety-nine problems, but you won't be one, like what?
Big niggas Thick niggas Switch niggas Slick niggas Quick niggas Flick niggas Bitch niggas Snitch niggas Pitch niggas Trick niggas Prick niggas Wee-wee niggas Strong niggas Sweet niggas Little niggas Stick niggas Zen niggas Pen niggas Ring niggas Weak niggas Dog niggas Cat niggas Hood niggas City niggas Bag niggas Bad niggas Bar niggas Banned niggas Drip niggas Dense niggas Mad niggas Vibe niggas Bomb niggas Trap niggas Extra niggas Dry niggas Grumpy niggas Broke niggas Fake niggas Buff niggas Classic niggas Sleepy-Ass niggas Mystery niggas Carvacious niggas Parmesan niggas 80's niggas 90's niggas Famous niggas Sensitive niggas Greedy niggas Psycho niggas Psychic niggas Crut niggas Disabled niggas Weeb niggas Long niggas Wide niggas Boned niggas HIGH niggas STONED niggas CRONED niggas SKY-HIGH niggas Chill niggas Pine niggas DUAL niggas Drunk niggas
>>80224396Forgiven, you get the yuzu pass
I thought people were genuinely pure. Like, I have no malicious intent behind my actions—I thought people were like that too. But boy oh boy, was I wrong.People can live with you, be in love with you, talk about proposing to you, promise you their everything, and still only think about themselves. So everyone, be fucking selfish. Do not for one moment stop being selfish, because this world truly doesn't care about nice people.I used to say 'be the change you want to see'… but that's the worst advice to give in this world. Everyone is sick of everyone's bullshit. They openly admit to using people, to being in it for themselves. So just fuck it. It's just you and your work. That's it.Be an asset to this world instead of being someone's love. Because this world really doesn't respect love.
This feels heavy right now because you didn’t abandon yourself to keep it light. A boundary was stated clearly multiple times over course of the dinner. And then it was crossed. Why? Because of an impulse? Yeah, we aren’t going to be buying that. An adult knows what they are doing. He was trying to test the waters. And even when he saw you were uncomfortable he went for it anyway. You didn’t abandon yourself, you did not choose to ignore it or let it go. You chose to call it out and end it. Even thought it felt like something you would have liked to explore. And yes, it feels heavy. It’s because you paid upfront. Lightness that comes from avoidance always demands a payment later—with compounded impact and distress. I don’t know if most women date successfully by ignoring such violations or ignoring their discomfort or just putting up with things. Things that men and society try to justify as conditioning, desire, the apparent lack of control men have around someone they want. It may be so normalised that he may not even be a a bad person. Just someone who doesn’t understand or cares to stop and understand how messed up this is. But we don’t care about that anymore, do we? We are not making this an identity case study. We are not moralising him or you. We are simply seeing behaviour (his) and the impact it has (on you). And his behaviour tonight? Disrespectful, unnecessary, violating, and completely unacceptable. The impact? Nervous system dysregulation, grief of having to let go of something you hoped could be beautiful, and the quiet ache of choosing yourself even when it is lonely. But isn’t this what healing often looks like? Not dramatic, not loud. Just someone choosing themselves quietly on a floor mat at 1:20 am, upset, angry and yet calm and intact
alright this thread went into shitsome cunnyanon meet me into the /tradehttps://discord.com/invite/8qfQ49BCa
my suffering comes from my constriction, my sorrow from a repression. my soul seeks to consume and create, and yet i have deprived it of what it longs for, what it is made to do, what it has always been for. i need to write, to paint, to read books, watch films, hear music once more. i need to feel, raw and passionately, true and completely. feel until it hurts or until it is euphoric, until it numbs or feels like everything all at once. the lovers, the artists, the dreamers, we crave expression. our sorrow, our maladies are a product of the passion we have lost, of our souls shackled and played down into oblivion, into a suffocating simplicity. our complexes and our labyrinths dismantled and deconstructed by difficulty into something easily digestible, into a routinely massacre of our soul. our minds desolate, our hearts deprived. there is pain in the depravity, hunger in the fury. the only way out is through, a simple letter, a few pages, ink stains on the palm, creases on the forehead. until all is released, until catharsis, a single twinkle of the eye that amassed a fractured history. the universe within us seeks the exploration of the universe beyond, and it cannot live in a single stifled symphony when it echoes eons of expression.
>>80224508Really love to see the passion you have for breeding this cute brat <3
I'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIERI'M GONNA LIVE LIKE TOMORROW DOESN'T EXISTLIKE IT DOESN'T EXISTI'M GONNA FLY LIKE A BIRD THROUGH THE NIGHTFEEL MY TEARS AS THEY DRYI'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIERI'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIERI'M GONNA LIVE LIKE TOMORROW DOESN'T EXISTLIKE IT DOESN'T EXISTI'M GONNA FLY LIKE A BIRD THROUGH THE NIGHTFEEL MY TEARS AS THEY DRYI'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIERI'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIERI'M GONNA LIVE LIKE TOMORROW DOESN'T EXISTLIKE IT DOESN'T EXISTI'M GONNA FLY LIKE A BIRD THROUGH THE NIGHTFEEL MY TEARS AS THEY DRYI'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIERI'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIERI'M GONNA LIVE LIKE TOMORROW DOESN'T EXISTLIKE IT DOESN'T EXISTI'M GONNA FLY LIKE A BIRD THROUGH THE NIGHTFEEL MY TEARS AS THEY DRYI'M GONNA SWING FROM THE CHANDELIERFROM THE CHANDELIER
my suffering comes from my constriction, my sorrow from a repression. my soul seeks to consume and create, and yet i have deprived it of what it longs for, what it is made to do, what it has always been for. i need to write, to paint, to read books, watch films, hear music once more. i need to feel, raw and passionately, true and completely. feel until it hurts or until it is euphoric, until it numbs or feels like everything all at once. the lovers, the artists, the dreamers, we crave expression. our sorrow, our maladies are a product of the passion we have lost, of our souls shackled and played down into oblivion, into a suffocating simplicity. our complexes and our labyrinths dismantled and deconstructed by difficulty into something easily digestible, into a routinely massacre of our soul. our minds desolate, our hearts deprived. there is pain in the depravity, hunger in the fury. the only way out is through, a simple letter, a few pages, ink stains on the palm, creases on the forehead. until all is released, until catharsis, a single twinkle of the eye that amassed a fractured history.the universe within us seeks the exploration of the universe beyond, and it cannot live in a single stifled symphony when it echoes eons of expression.
Life is hard. For people with Autism, you have to fight everything it seems. It is how I felt it was. All that I have done has been fought on some ground, someone wants to die on a hill to make things hard for me. I can't retreat to any place that pleases me, because someone wants to break it down. I walk into school, it is loud, bright, and filled with terrible people, and I just need to exist in suffering, because that is how society was made. Sitting in pep rallies watching other people have fun as I am encircled and attacked by everything around me. From how close I have to pack against people, from how insultingly bright the gym lights are, from loud the music the band plays. It is sad that this is how it will forever be, as society will give no quarter to me, nor anyone like me. The enforcers will always break you with something, saying no to basic requests, rejecting simple questions, refusing understanding. There is never a clear yes it feels like. Everything needs to be a game of some sort.
Fermín Toro y Blanco (Caracas- El Valle, 14 July 1806 - Caracas, 23 December 1865) was a Venezuelan humanist, politician, diplomat and author
in the grand theater of life, where the curtains rise and fall with the rhythm of our daily existence, there exists a spectacle of grandiose illusion. It is a performance not of actors upon a stage, but of narratives spun with the silken threads of misinformation, woven into the very fabric of our digital lives.In this age of information, where the world is but a click away, we find ourselves ensnared in a web of deceit spun by those who wield disinformation as their weapon of choice. The architects of these grandiose illusions are not mere jesters, but rather, they are the maestros of manipulation, orchestrating symphonies of falsehoods that echo across the vast expanse of social media.Russia, with its storied history of intrigue and subterfuge, has emerged as a virtuoso in this dark art. Through the deft use of social media platforms, it conducts an informational assault upon the Western world, a campaign of disinformation designed to sow discord and confusion. It is a strategy as old as time, yet executed with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel.But fear not, for there exists a bastion of truth amidst this tempest of lies. True journalism, with its unwavering commitment to uncovering the veracity of events, stands as a bulwark against the tide of deception. It is the lighthouse guiding us through the storm, illuminating the path to clarity and understanding.Journalists, those intrepid seekers of truth, wield their pens as swords, cutting through the dense fog of half-truths and fabrications. They are the sentinels of integrity, holding aloft the torch of enlightenment in a world shrouded in shadow.There are those who would decry this noble pursuit, who would cast aspersions upon the very notion of objective truth. They argue that in a world of subjective realities, there is no room for absolutes. Yet, to them, we say: truth is not a relic of a bygone era, but a cornerstone of our shared humanity.
>>80224624I just like to imagine all the "stealth" sex you could have with her due to her tendencies to scurry and hide away from people. It'd imagine it would be slow paced and she'd cling to me lots.. Plus I know that hair must smell good, she's just the most appealing gamer to me, I'd fill her up daily.
It's almost three a.m. but I feel restless and anxious. I drink some cold water in a glass because it calms me, but it's not enough. I chant and chant the same mighty words hoping the shadows will leave. I get an answer, not what I was expecting to hear. So intelligent but yet so dumb. Shut up it said. It knows my name. What can I honestly expect? Small minds, gossips, and stress. They threaten my happiness thinking it makes them better, killing my joy. Who would expect less? You're predictable. Match by match your actions match mine. How do I ease my bodily pain? God. You're just a demon to me. You're just a lost soul. You're just a evil woman to me.
>>80224709is that piratesoftware aka thor????
You can spend an eternity looking elsewhere for Truth and love, intelligence and goodwill, imploring God and man – all in vain. You must begin in yourself, with yourself – this is the inexorable law. You cannot change the image without changing the face. First realise that your world is only a reflection of yourself and stop finding fault with the reflection. Attend to yourself, set yourself right – mentally and emotionally. The physical will follow automatically. You talk so much of reforms: economic, social, political. Leave alone the reforms and mind the reformer. What kind of world can a man create who is stupid, greedy, heartless?
enough is never enoughkeep on grinding the grindthere’s no such thing as too muchwhen your day is your nine-to-fiveit’s such a shameyou live life this way--a player in the corporate chess gameyou don’t realize you have a sayeven when sickness and griefclashes at your mindyou will never be freeso long as you remain confinedand amidst my internal monologuesi feel sorry you believe in thisthat you live to work in a fograther than work to live
Tim Cook is one of the good ones and that is exactly my point. You don't do see him evangelizing his faggotry anywhere and everywhere. He got to where he is through his own achievement. That's literally not the case with you "activists". If one of you activists gets in the company its like a cancer and spreads from the inside. You start promoting your own and bringing in more activists until practically the whole company is overrun with activists instead of the best people for the job. Its like a cancer. And of course the quality goes to shit. Absolute shit. Because all the real talent is gone and only the activists are left still pushing their faggotry because that is the most important thing. Gaining clout, social status and power through the shortcut of being one of them instead of actually being good at anything. The list of media you activists have ruined with your lack of talent is long. Very long.
>>80224739lmao I was gonna ask the same thing
I HAD A WAY THENLOSING IT ALL ON MY OWNI HAD A HEART THENBUT THE QUEEN HAS BEEN OVERTHROWNAND I'M NOT SLEEPING NOWTHE DARK IS TOO HARD TO BEATAND I'M NOT KEEPING UPTHE STRENGTH I NEED TO PUSH MEYOU SHOW THE LIGHTS THAT STOP ME TURN TO STONEYOU SHINE IT WHEN I'M ALONEAND SO I TELL MYSELF THAT I'LL BE STRONGAND DREAMING WHEN THEY'RE GONECAUSE THEY'RE CALLING, CALLING, CALLING ME HOMECALLING, CALLING, CALLING HOMEYOU SHOW THE LIGHTS THAT STOP ME TURN TO STONEYOU SHINE IT WHEN I'M ALONENOISES, I PLAY WITHIN MY HEADTOUCH MY OWN SKINAND HOPE THAT I'M STILL BREATHINGAND I THINK BACK TO WHENMY BROTHER AND MY SISTER SLEPTIN AN UNLOCKED PLACETHE ONLY TIME I FEEL SAFE
>>80224719Uhhh, thanks for making me imagine getting stuck in the locker with her where my nose is practically pressed into her scalp, grinding against her thighs and making her let out little squeaks until I can't resist jamming it into her little slit...*ahem*
I know that hair must smell good, she's just the most appealing gamer to me, I'd fill her up daily. God. You're just a demon to me. You're just a lost soul. You're just a evil woman to me. The enforcers will always break you with something, saying no to basic requests, rejecting simple questions, refusing understanding. There is never a clear yes it feels like. Everything needs to be a game of some sort.
But I'm just average, as if that explains everything. I'm just good at enduring tedious stuff, And I'm just tired of being disappointed in myself. As if being good at enduring tedious things doesn’t count as strength because it isn’t loud or admirable. I know how to keep going when the days blur together, when nothing feels meaningful, when the effort doesn’t lead anywhere visible. I endure. And somehow, I still feel like it isn’t enough. What truly exhausts me isn’t the work or the waiting, it’s the quiet disappointment I carry toward myself. I hold myself up against a version of me I thought I would be by now more certain, more capable, less tired. I look at who I am and feel the distance, and that distance hurts more than failure ever did. I’m not tired because I lack ability. I’m tired because I’ve been strong for too long without rest, without kindness, without permission to be human. I forget that surviving itself takes effort. I forget that staying when I wanted to disappear, caring when it would’ve been easier not to, already cost me something.
>>80223633well what are you playing?
whats up with the pseudointellectualism in teh chat, post tits and ass
There are stretches of life where contact thins in small, almost unremarkable ways. Conversations end sooner than expected, messages go unanswered longer than they used to, and time becomes less structured, not because there is suddenly more of it, but because fewer claims are made on it. As this happens, the rhythm of days begins to shift. Attention lingers where it once moved quickly, and decisions feel heavier or lighter without any obvious reason. These changes rarely announce themselves as solitude. They quietly reshape how thought moves, how time is felt, and how the self begins to take up space.In that altered rhythm, being alone can feel less like absence and more like control.When chosen, isolation often presents itself as autonomy, a condition in which attention is no longer divided and time feels owned rather than allocated. Without the need to negotiate priorities or interpret the reactions of others, the self becomes more legible to itself, and thoughts are allowed to complete their arc without interruption. Preferences can sharpen, not because they are newly discovered, but because they are no longer being filtered through external expectation. There is relief in not having to perform coherence for an audience. This version of being alone feels clean, even restorative, presenting the self as sufficient and capable of standing without reinforcement. Yet the clarity it offers depends on the absence of contradiction. The self speaks uninterrupted, but it also remains unchallenged. What feels like coherence is real, but fragile, sustained by silence rather than tested through resistance.
>>80224883my suffering comes from my constriction, my sorrow from a repression. my soul seeks to consume and create, and yet i have deprived it of what it longs for, what it is made to do, what it has always been for. i need to write, to paint, to read books, watch films, hear music once more. i need to feel, raw and passionately, true and completely. feel until it hurts or until it is euphoric, until it numbs or feels like everything all at once. the lovers, the artists, the dreamers, we crave expression. our sorrow, our maladies are a product of the passion we have lost, of our souls shackled and played down into oblivion, into a suffocating simplicity. our complexes and our labyrinths dismantled and deconstructed by difficulty into something easily digestible, into a routinely massacre of our soul. our minds desolate, our hearts deprived. there is pain in the depravity, hunger in the fury. the only way out is through, a simple letter, a few pages, ink stains on the palm, creases on the forehead. until all is released, until catharsis, a single twinkle of the eye that amassed a fractured history.the universe within us seeks the exploration of the universe beyond, and it cannot live in a single stifled symphony when it echoes eons of expression.
When being alone is not chosen, its character shifts. What once felt like autonomy becomes deprivation. Silence does not rest but accumulates, and time stretches without deepening. Meaning is inferred from absence rather than presence, and absence is an unreliable narrator. Without agency over the conditions of solitude, the self begins to thin, losing density as identity becomes reactive, shaped more by what is missing than by what is affirmed. In this form, being alone does not clarify so much as erode. It exposes how dependent the self is on recognition in order to remain grounded. What appeared as confidence in chosen solitude reappears as fragility when aloneness arrives uninvited.Between these experiences lies a quieter, more deliberate use of being alone, one that treats withdrawal as a means rather than an end. Distance allows patterns to surface that remain invisible in constant proximity, and emotional responses slow enough to be examined rather than merely endured. Here, solitude exists for the sake of return. Its value lies in its temporariness, in what it makes possible afterward. Yet even this deliberate use of being alone carries risk. When return is postponed too long, distance begins to harden, and what was meant to sharpen awareness slowly dulls urgency. The pause becomes a holding pattern. The tool becomes a shelter.
At other times, being alone functions less as a choice or circumstance and more as protection. Limiting exposure reduces volatility, predictability replaces uncertainty, and emotional risk becomes manageable. This form of solitude is not inherently unhealthy. In many cases, it is a reasonable response to instability or repeated injury, creating boundaries when none feel otherwise enforceable. Still, protection comes at a cost. Growth requires friction, and friction requires contact. When safety becomes the primary value, development slows. Peace settles into stillness. The self remains intact, but unchanged.Not all forms of being alone require physical separation. One can be surrounded and still experience solitude when recognition fails to occur. Presence offers little relief if it is not accompanied by understanding, and proximity alone cannot resolve isolation. Being unseen carries its own quiet weight. Conversation without mutual recognition does not interrupt being alone, it reinforces it. In these moments, withdrawal is not the solution, because the problem is not distance but failed mutuality. Aloneness emerges not from absence, but from the inability to be met.
>>80224883teh
Over time, these experiences begin to blur into one another. Chosen solitude slips into protection, temporary withdrawal drifts toward isolation, and safety becomes avoidance. Autonomy loses substance without recognition, while recognition begins to feel constraining without autonomy. None of these positions remain stable indefinitely. Each contains the conditions of its own undoing. What begins as clarity can harden into rigidity. What begins as safety can narrow into confinement. The meaning of being alone shifts as duration lengthens and circumstances change.Aloneness is not static. It moves.The mistake, then, is not being alone, but remaining in one posture long after it has stopped serving its purpose. Solitude teaches the self to stand, but standing is not the same as becoming. Becoming requires movement, and movement requires return. Being alone is neither an answer nor a failure. It is a moment in a process that refuses to settle.
I'm crying on the bathroom floorI don't think I can do this anymoreTheres no off button for me to hitSurrounded by thankless hypocrites That's enough! No more performance of closenessAvoiding accountability for your emotional distanceI knew all along this would end up being such a messIt's not mine to clean up and honestly? Good riddance I promise I am not one to forgive and to forget You've turned me into a mad woman, a threatBecause I only know how to care extensivelyPlease don't take for granted that part of me
I RUN FROM THE LIARS, THE FUEL ON THE FIREI KNOW I CREATED MYSELFI KNOW I CAN'T FIGHT THE SAD DAYS AND BAD NIGHTSBUT I NEVER ASKED FOR YOUR HELPYOU GOT HURTNO, WE DON'T BELONG TOGETHERSO YOU TOOK THE LOVE FROM MY ARMSINTO THE ARMS OF YOURSBUT I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T LIKE THE TENSION, THE MISAPPREHENSIONSABOUT OUR NATURE IN LOVETHE GLORIOUS TEACHERS ARE NO USE FOR CREATURESWHO KNOWS HOW TO PLAY WITH THE GODSYOU GOT NERVES, BUT THEY NEVER SHOWUNLESS THEY HURT, SO YOU BLAMED IT ALLON MY LOVE, THE MOVINGHEART I GOTBUT I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITI DON'T NEED ITHM, PLEASE, NO CURE FOR MEPLEASE, NO CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR MECURE FOR ME, PLEASE, NO CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR MECURE FOR ME, PLEASE, NO CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR ME
>>80224940now you get it anon. or should i say now yuo get it
*cums in Lain's mouth*That'll shut him up!
I WANT TO BE ABLE TO TRUST MY EMOTIONSI want to be normal, experience joy and sadness in moderation rather than severely, intensely and rapidly. The decline is sudden, the high goes unnoticed when you are enjoying it, when my energy is high my appetite is low and my hyper sexuality is rewarded with praise and desire. I should be able to experience these things normally, like a human being but instead I am afraid of feeling, as I cannot trust what is real and what is a product of the chemical imbalances in my brain, wired for extremism that will destroy me. I am angelic, but only for a moment before I am pulled back to the hell in which my disorder was born. I am the maker of my own evil, and I am romanticized for it.
Director: Aurora and Sigurd FossenCreative Producer: Christer DyngelandDOP: Borja Lopez Diaz1st AD: Ben LucasSteadicam: Stig Indrebø1st AC: Tor Edvin EliassenGaffer: Jarl JohnsenBest boy: Henrik LarsenLight mixer: Philip LindfeldtStylist: Viktoria AksnesMakeup: Miranda AksnesProduction runner: Olve AustefjordChoreographer: Yaniv CohenDancers: Vivian Pakkanen, Madeleine Fairminer, Rasmus Tirronen, Julie Steinjord Mjøen, Tormod Skår Midtbø, Panisara WanlopbanhanEditor: Sigurd FossenColourist: James Bamford (The Mill)Equipment by Storyline StudiosMirror installation by VOID and Deichman BjørvikaProd company: Fill In prod / Sølvrev
>>80224991yuor 8008
How many of you want to fuck Lain
I’m neither a texting person, nor a calling person, nor even a face-to-face person anymore. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to talk. I don’t respond well to compliments and over time I’ve lost interest in conversations altogether. People often assume I’m just not in the mood to chat but the truth is I’ve lost the desire to communicate at all. I used to prefer texting over calling. Now I write long messages only to delete them and reply with ‘yeah,’ ‘okay,’ or ‘thanks.’ I’ve confined myself to small talk. I struggle to start conversations and to keep them going. I think low self-esteem is what’s making it harder and I’m afraid of losing my voice completely.
>>80225018>I am the maker of my own evil, and I am romanticized for ityou romanticize yourself, classic trap of romanticizing your own mental illness
When I wake in the morningGold and silver surround meAll i need All i see Is colors and magicAlways there when i need itLike the sun through the rainbowIn the lightYou can glowNever forget that
Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love
私の幸せは狭い昨日、なんとか家から出て婦人科へ行けた。栄えた町にあるので、帰りに犬用の特別なご飯とおやつ、人間用のケーキ、ブルーアイスとピンクのスプレーバラを買って帰った。クリスマスということにかこつけて。化粧して、外出して、受診してというのを達成できたことが嬉しかったので、スプレーバラは明るいピンクだった。近くのイタリアンレストランのテイクアウトメニューを夫に会社帰りに受け取ってきてもらって、ちょっとしたパーティーみたいになった。犬も普段食べられないようなご飯を本気で食べていてよかった。鶏肉を夫が切り分けてくれて、赤いところ無理して食べなくていいよとか言われて、これは幸せなんだろうと思った。楽しかったねと言って、その日は眠った。このくらいライトな幸せなら私にも受け取る権利があるんじゃないかなと思えたから。今日、なんの気も無しにスレッズを見ていたら、「クリスマスにケーキを買っている人見てほっこり!とか言ってる人たち、クリスマスはキリスト教の祭日ですよね。イエス・キリストはパレスチナ人だということを忘れていませんか?」という旨の投稿が流れてきた。ああ、なんかやっぱり幸せを享受するのは罪深いと、直感で思ってしまうのだ。上記の投稿に対する反対の意見というのは考えれば出てくるけれど、理性的な部分ではなく、感覚の部分で幸せの享受が罪深いことであると感じられるのだ。
>>80225042eyy liek b00bes
このようなことは度々起きる。だから私は昨日のささやかなパーティーに関して、私が一日、私の身体のために動き、家族のためにささやかだが動くことができた、ということを祝った日だったと思うことにするのだ。確かにあったことだから。
2.56 MB This feels heavy right now because you didn’t abandon yourself to keep it light. A boundary was stated clearly multiple times over course of the dinner. And then it was crossed. Why? Because of an impulse? Yeah, we aren’t going to be buying that. An adult knows what they are doing. He was trying to test the waters. And even when he saw you were uncomfortable he went for it anyway. You didn’t abandon yourself, you did not choose to ignore it or let it go. You chose to call it out and end it. Even thought it felt like something you would have liked to explore. And yes, it feels heavy. It’s because you paid upfront. Lightness that comes from avoidance always demands a payment later—with compounded impact and distress. I don’t know if most women date successfully by ignoring such violations or ignoring their discomfort or just putting up with things. Things that men and society try to justify as conditioning, desire, the apparent lack of control men have around someone they want. It may be so normalised that he may not even be a a bad person. Just someone who doesn’t understand or cares to stop and understand how messed up this is. But we don’t care about that anymore, do we? We are not making this an identity case study. We are not moralising him or you. We are simply seeing behaviour (his) and the impact it has (on you). And his behaviour tonight? Disrespectful, unnecessary, violating, and completely unacceptable. The impact? Nervous system dysregulation, grief of having to let go of something you hoped could be beautiful, and the quiet ache of choosing yourself even when it is lonely. But isn’t this what healing often looks like? Not dramatic, not loud. Just someone choosing themselves quietly on a floor mat at 1:20 am, upset, angry and yet calm and intact
Something tells me the new captcha isn't as good as it's supposed to be.
>>80225150You can thank retards like this one for why the captchas keep getting worse.
As a Centrist,There are many things I see fine with Woke Ideology.I like that pop stars don't have to fit a mold anymore. The biggest boy band on earth today is Korean.Inclusivity is cool.I am, however, happy that the #meToo era came and went. I don't think all males are toxic, and, what does that mean for masculinity if the majority of males are masculine?I also don't believe that little boys should be diagnosed by female doctors or moms with PHDs as ADHD and then put those boys on drugs. These medications have awful side effects all because women have no idea how male components make boys feel physically on the inside.This works Vice Versa too. Men could never understand what losing blood once a month for a few days feels like. The body loses iron through the bleeding, and loses other nutrients. Most people don't supplement. When the body loses iron it gets colder much quicker. How many people eat raw beets or lentils or cow liver to get the iron they need on a daily basis? Losing blood also alerts the body into survival mode as stockpile depletes. The body makes the mind become feral to survive. Your mood won't be nice.Do I think women can do everything that men can. Yes. Most things surely, but there are so many more things women can do that men can't which makes them the better part of the human races.The only error history ever made was classifying males and females as the same species when they are absolutely nothing alike. Two machine factories that do totally polar opposite things.As a Centrist,There are a ton of things I don't love about The Right as of today. However, if I am charting and crossing out a list of practicalities—The Right is just a sliver more practical than The Left, for now.In my lifetime,Those have shifted back and forth some.When I search American History,They have done so for over a century maybe two.Can The Left love The Right?Sure they can. They already do.
>>80223633i am playing genshin impact. are you playing anything?
hANDS AROUND MY NECKyOU GOT A LOT OF NERVE COMIN' ROUND HERE WITHOUT A REASON TO LOVE MEiN ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONEi THINK YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH(wITH ALL THAT YOU-WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE)(wITH ALL THAT YOU-WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE)(wITH ALL THAT YOU-WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE)
i kNoW WhAt iT'S LiKe tO Be hOpElEsSKnOw wHaT It fEeLs tO Be bRoKeNIt's a sLoW PrOcEsSIt tAkEs tImE To lOvE YoUrSeLfaNd gEt tO KnOw sOmEbOdY ThE LoNgEr yOu wAiTThE BeTtEr iT MaKeS IttHe lOnGeR YoU WaItiT FeElS LiKe tHeRe'shAnDs aRoUnD My nEcKYoU GoT A LoT Of nErVe cOmIn' RoUnD HeRe wItHoUt a rEaSoN To lOvE MeiN AlL ThAt yOu'vE DoNe wItH AlL ThAt yOu'vE DoNei tHiNk yOu'vE DoNe eNoUgHHaNdS ArOuNd mY NeCkyOu gOt a lOt oF NeRvE CoMiN' rOuNd hErE WiThOuT A ReAsOn tO LoVe mEIn aLl tHaT YoU'Ve dOnE WiTh aLl tHaT YoU'Ve dOnEI ThInK YoU'Ve dOnE EnOuGh
iN A WoRlD WhErE ThE CaCoPhOnY Of nEgAtIvItY ReIgNs sUpReMe, ThE LiNcHpIn oF PeRcEpTiOn iS OfTeN ObScUrEd bY ThE ReLeNtLeSs bArRaGe oF DiShEaRtEnInG HeAdLiNeS. tHe pArAdOx oF OuR TiMe iS ThAt, DeSpItE ThE UnDeNiAbLe aDvAnCeMeNtS In mYrIaD FaCeTs oF HuMaN ExIsTeNcE, tHe pErVaSiVe sEnTiMeNt iS OnE Of dEsPaIr aNd rEgReSsIoN. tHiS CoGnItIvE DiSsOnAnCe, A PsYcHoLoGiCaL PhEnOmEnOn wHeRe iNdIvIdUaLs pErCeIvE A ReAlItY InCoNgRuEnT WiTh tHe eMpIrIcAl eViDeNcE, iS ExAcErBaTeD By tHe mEdIa’s pReDiLeCtIoN FoR SeNsAtIoNaLiSm.lEt uS EmBaRk oN An iNtElLeCtUaL OdYsSeY ThRoUgH ThE LaByRiNtHiNe cOrRiDoRs oF PrOgReSs, WhErE ThE LuMiNeScEnCe oF HuMaN AcHiEvEmEnT Is oFtEn oVeRsHaDoWeD By tHe oMiNoUs sPeCtEr oF PeSsImIsM. cOnSiDeR, fOr iNsTaNcE, tHe rEaLm oF GlObAl hEaLtH. tHe eRaDiCaTiOn oF SmAlLpOx, ThE PrEcIpItOuS DeClInE In cHiLd mOrTaLiTy rAtEs, AnD ThE UnPrEcEdEnTeD AdVaNcEmEnTs iN MeDiCaL TeChNoLoGy aRe mOnUmEnTaL TrIuMpHs tHaT ShOuLd eLiCiT UnIvErSaL JuBiLaTiOn. YeT, tHe nArRaTiVe pRoMuLgAtEd bY ThE MeDiA Is oNe oF ImPeNdInG DoOm, WiTh pAnDeMiCs aNd hEaLtH CrIsEs dOmInAtInG ThE DiScOuRsE.SiMiLaRlY, tHe rEaLm oF TeChNoLoGy hAs wItNeSsEd a vErItAbLe rEnAiSsAnCe, WiTh iNnOvAtIoNs tHaT HaVe rEvOlUtIoNiZeD CoMmUnIcAtIoN, tRaNsPoRtAtIoN, aNd iNfOrMaTiOn dIsSeMiNaTiOn. ThE DiGiTaL AgE HaS DeMoCrAtIzEd kNoWlEd tAlEnTeD WoRkAhOlIc aNd hEr tEaM WoRkInG JuSt aS HaRd..GrEaT ArTiStS AlL ArOuNd.. sInCe hEr dEbUt fLaWlEsS MaKe-uP.. Ge, EmPoWeRiNg iNdIvIdUaLs wItH AcCeSs tO An iNeXhAuStIbLe rEpOsItOrY Of iNfOrMaTiOn. HoWeVeR, tHe mEdIa’s fIxAtIoN On tHe dElEtErIoUs eFfEcTs oF SoCiAl mEdIa aNd tHe dYsToPiAn iMpLiCaTiOnS Of aRtIfIcIaL InTeLlIgEnCe oBfUsCaTeS ThE TrAnSfOrMaTiVe pOtEnTiAl oF ThEsE AdVaNcEmEnTs.
>>80225150Yeah, and it made me feel fucking stupid on the first day cause I didn’t notice the Next button; but I am sort of a dumb slut. Wanna get out of here with me?
its tragic how one person can cause so much destruction
RUN FROM THE LIARS, THE FUEL ON THE FIREI KNOW I CREATED MYSELFI KNOW I CAN'T FIGHT THE SAD DAYS AND BAD NIGHTSBUT I NEVER ASKED FOR YOUR HELPYOU GOT HURTNO, WE DON'T BELONG TOGETHERSO YOU TOOK THE LOVE FROM MY ARMSINTO THE ARMS OF YOURSBUT I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T LIKE THE TENSION, THE MISAPPREHENSIONSABOUT OUR NATURE IN LOVETHE GLORIOUS TEACHERS ARE NO USE FOR CREATURESWHO KNOWS HOW TO PLAY WITH THE GODSYOU GOT NERVES, BUT THEY NEVER SHOWUNLESS THEY HURT, SO YOU BLAMED IT ALLON MY LOVE, THE MOVINGHEART I GOTBUT I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITNO, I DON'T NEED A CURE FOR MEI DON'T NEED ITI DON'T NEED ITHM, PLEASE, NO CURE FOR MEPLEASE, NO CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR MECURE FOR ME, PLEASE, NO CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR MECURE FOR ME, PLEASE, NO CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR ME, CURE FOR ME
Everybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of loveEverybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of loveEverybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of loveEverybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of loveEverybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of loveEverybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of loveEverybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of loveEverybody wants everybody needsDifferent shades of love
>>80225406cuute
>>80225384rape my throat
I'm crying on the bathroom floorI don't think I can do this anymoreTheres no off button for me to hitSurrounded by thankless hypocritesThat's enough! No more performance of closenessAvoiding accountability for your emotional distanceI knew all along this would end up being such a messIt's not mine to clean up and honestly? Good riddanceI promise I am not one to forgive and to forgetYou've turned me into a mad woman, a threatBecause I only know how to care extensivelyPlease don't take for granted that part of me
>>80225380I'd love to get out of here, forever.
You evil, narcissistic witch. Ask your therapist about electroshock therapy because something in your brain has been severely broken. And the funniest part is that you think ur a completely healthy person who has got it all figured out! You sincerely believe that you are entitled to these imaginary set of ~boundaries~ (well, you call them boundaries, theyre not actually.), in which you expect people to accept and put up with your insane behavior. Im not going to be a broken record and list all of the horribly narcissistic and painful ways youve used me to your advantage, manipulated me, coerced me to be okay with more and more sociopathic tendencies of yours. I sincerely love you, and for the past 5 years its been a consistent cycle of being emotionally used and abused from you, pretending that it isnt true/im overreacting, giving you the benefit of the doubt, then eventually going through the painful process of accepting that YES, I have been horribly mistreated, and then, finally, having to shove all of these feelings down in an instant for a desperate attempt and exchange to keep you in my life. You evil fucking bitch. You evil, evil, evil, evil fucking bitch. It is times like this where I wonder what the point of continuing in this life if my future will be a cycle of emotional abuse from the only person I love, the person I shared my entire life with, the person I sincerely cannot live without. But living with you means pain, it means that at any moment I am disposable to you like a tamagotchi or some other completely irrelevant toy that you only acknowledge its existence when you feel like it. Being dead is a genuinely better alternative, I think. Unfortunately for you, Im too afraid of death. And the worst part is that I miss you so much, I love you so much, and I will always fucking forgive you for ANYTHING you could do to me.
>>80225421post tag then slut
and yet despite dweeby weeby fappies with dinsdale
nO, i aM NoT ShItTiNg yOu. If pEoPlE CoUlD SeE ThE WoRlD FoR WhAt iT TrUlY Is, SeE ThEiR LiVeS FoR WhAt tHeY TrUlY ArE, wItHoUt dReAmS Or iLlUsIoNs, I DoN'T BeLiEvE ThEy cOuLd oFfEr tHe fIrSt rEaSoN WhY ThEy sHoUlD NoT ElEcT To dIe aS SoOn aS PoSsIbLe. I DoN'T BeLiEvE In gOd. CaN YoU UnDeRsTaNd tHaT? lOoK ArOuNd yOu, MaN. cAn't yOu sEe tHe cLaMoR AnD DeN Of tHoSe iN ToRmEnT HaS To bE ThE SoUnD MoSt pLeAsInG To hIs eAr? AnD I LoAtHe tHeSe dIsCuSsIoNs. ThE ArGuMeNt oF ThE ViLlAgE AtHeIsT WhOsE SiNgLe pAsSiOn iS To rEvIlE EnDlEsSlY ThAt wHiCh hE DeNiEs tHe eXiStEnCe oF In tHe fIrSt pLaCe. YoUr fElLoWsHiP Is a fElLoWsHiP Of pAiN AnD NoThInG MoRe. AnD If tHaT PaIn wErE CoLlEcTiVe iNsTeAd oF MeReLy rEiTeRaTiVe, ThE ShEeR WeIgHt oF It wOuLd dRaG ThE WoRlD FrOm tHe wAlLs oF ThE UnIvErSe aNd sEnD It cRaShInG AnD BuRnInG DoWn tHrOuGh wHaTeVeR NiGhT It mIgHt yEt bE CaPaBlE Of eNgEnDeRiNg uNtIl iT WaS NoT EvEn aSh aNd bRoThErHoOd, JuStIcE, eTeRnAl lIfE. gOoD GoD, mAn. ShOw mE A ReLiGiOn tHaT PrEpArEs oNe fOr nOtHiNgNeSs, FoR DeAtH. tHaT'S A ChUrCh i mIgHt eNtEr. YoUrS PrEpArEs oNe oNlY FoR MoRe lIfE, fOr dReAmS, iLlUsIoNs, LiEs. BaNiSh tHe fEaR Of dEaTh fRoM MeN'S HeArTs. ThEy wOuLdN'T LiVe a dAy. WhO WoUlD WaNt tHiS NiGhTmArE BuT FoR FeAr oF ThE NeXt? ThE ShAdOw oF ThE AxE HaNgS OvEr eVeRy jOy. EvErY RoAd eNdS In dEaTh. EvErY FrIeNdShIp, EvErY LoVe, ToRmEnT, lOsS, bEtRaYaL, pAiN, sUfFeRiNg, AgE, iNdIgNiTy, HiDeOuS LiNgErInG IlLnEsS, aNd aLl oF It wItH A SiNgLe cOnClUsIoN FoR YoU AnD EvErYoNe. OnE AnD EvErYtHiNg yOu hAvE EvEr cHoSeN To cArE FoR. tHaT Is tHe tRuE BrOtHeRhOoD, tHe tRuE FeLlOwShIp, AnD EvErYbOdY Is a mEmBeR FoR LiFe. YoU TeLl mE ThAt mY BrOtHeR Is mY SaLvAtIoN. mY SaLvAtIoN. wElL, tHeN DaMn hIm. DaMn hIm iN EvErY ShApE AnD SiZe aNd fOrM. dO I SeE MySeLf iN HiM? yEs, I Do. AnD WhAt i sEe sIcKeNs mE. yOu uNdErStAnD Me? CaN YoU UnDeRsTaNd mE? i'm sOrRy.
>>80225450Okay but what about the “with me” part because we both know you’re here forever
YOU TOOK MY HEART, AND YOU HELD IT IN YOUR MOUTHAND WITH A WORD ALL MY LOVE CAME RUSHING OUTAND EVERY WHISPER, IT'S THE WORST, EMPTIED OUT BY A SINGLE WORDTHERE IS A HOLLOW IN ME NOW (ME NOW)SO I'LL PUT MY FAITH IN SOMETHING UNKNOWNI'M LIVING ON SUCH SWEET NOTHINGBUT I'M TIRED OF HOPE WITH NOTHING TO HOLDI'M LIVING ON SUCH SWEET NOTHINGAND IT'S HARD TO LEARNAND IT'S HARD TO LOVEWHEN YOU'RE GIVING ME SUCH SWEET NOTHINGSWEET NOTHING, SWEET NOTHINGYOU'RE GIVING ME SUCH SWEET NOTHINGIT ISN'T EASY FOR ME TO LET IT GO'CAUSE I'VE SWALLOWED EVERY SINGLE WORDAND EVERY WHISPER, EVERY SIGH EATS AWAY THIS HEART OF MINEAND THERE IS A HOLLOW IN ME NOW (ME NOW)SO I'LL PUT MY FAITH IN SOMETHING UNKNOWNI'M LIVING ON SUCH SWEET NOTHINGBUT I'M TIRED OF HOPE WITH NOTHING TO HOLDI'M LIVING ON SUCH SWEET NOTHINGAND IT'S HARD TO LEARNAND IT'S HARD TO LOVEWHEN YOU'RE GIVING ME SUCH SWEET NOTHINGSWEET NOTHING, SWEET NOTHINGYOU'RE GIVING ME SUCH SWEET NOTHINGAND IT'S NOT ENOUGH TO TELL ME THAT YOU CAREWHEN WE BOTH KNOW THAT WORDS ARE EMPTY AIRYOU GIVE ME NOTHINGNOTHINGOH-WOAH, OH-WOAHOH-WOAH, SWEET NOTHINGOH-WOAH, OH-WOAHOH-WOAH, SWEET NOTHING
>>80225626ok
>>80225380What's your tag, Koume poster?
and yet despite dweeby weeby fappies with dinsdale my underwear are sweaty around my package and they aren't drying and it's upsetting and they smell fragrant what the fuck are you doin to my asshole LAINCHOP (inoperable) (fatal)
>>80217456no flag leakagebut ifanons want to feel more comfortablehere:https://poal.me/h0m0nkenoughtalkdailies aren't goingto do themselves kupo!!>>80217480>>80217467wrong wrong and wrong kupo!posting off trip for anons tobe able todo theirdemocratic values by voting!
Why wait To sayAt least I did it my way Lie awake Two faced But in my heart I understand I made My move And it was all about you Now I feel So far removed You were the one thing in my way My wayAway away away"Why wait To sayAt least I did it my way Lie awake Two faced But in my heart I understand I made My move And it was all about you Now I feel So far removed You were the one thing in my way My wayAway away away"Why wait To sayAt least I did it my way Lie awake Two faced But in my heart I understand I made My move And it was all about you Now I feel So far removed You were the one thing in my way My wayAway away away"Why wait To sayAt least I did it my way Lie awake Two faced But in my heart I understand I made My move And it was all about you Now I feel So far removed You were the one thing in my way My wayAway away away"
Director: Aurora and Sigurd FossenCreative Producer: Christer DyngelandDOP: Borja Lopez Diaz1st AD: Ben LucasSteadicam: Stig Indrebø1st AC: Tor Edvin EliassenGaffer: Jarl JohnsenBest boy: Henrik LarsenLight mixer: Philip LindfeldtStylist: Viktoria AksnesMakeup: Miranda AksnesProduction runner: Olve AustefjordChoreographer: Yaniv CohenDancers: Vivian Pakkanen, Madeleine Fairminer, Rasmus Tirronen, Julie Steinjord Mjøen, Tormod Skår Midtbø, Panisara WanlopbanhanEditor: Sigurd FossenColourist: James Bamford (The Mill)Equipment by Storyline StudiosMirror installation by VOID and Deichman BjørvikaProd company: Fill In prod / Sølvrev.Director: Aurora and Sigurd FossenCreative Producer: Christer DyngelandDOP: Borja Lopez Diaz1st AD: Ben LucasSteadicam: Stig Indrebø1st AC: Tor Edvin EliassenGaffer: Jarl JohnsenBest boy: Henrik LarsenLight mixer: Philip LindfeldtStylist: Viktoria AksnesMakeup: Miranda AksnesProduction runner: Olve AustefjordChoreographer: Yaniv CohenDancers: Vivian Pakkanen, Madeleine Fairminer, Rasmus Tirronen, Julie Steinjord Mjøen, Tormod Skår Midtbø, Panisara WanlopbanhanEditor: Sigurd FossenColourist: James Bamford (The Mill)Equipment by Storyline StudiosMirror installation by VOID and Deichman BjørvikaProd company: Fill In prod / SølvrevDirector: Aurora and Sigurd FossenCreative Producer: Christer DyngelandDOP: Borja Lopez Diaz1st AD: Ben LucasSteadicam: Stig Indrebø1st AC: Tor Edvin EliassenGaffer: Jarl JohnsenBest boy: Henrik LarsenLight mixer: Philip LindfeldtStylist: Viktoria AksnesMakeup: Miranda AksnesProduction runner: Olve AustefjordChoreographer: Yaniv CohenDancers: Vivian Paev
>>80225654lebannonny_82002It’s a bit of a throwaway but I’d be happy to move you out of the airlock if you seem nice
Para los que se preguntan por qué no tiene tantas reproducciones, recuerden que el paraíso no es para toda la gente. T OF NERVE COMIN' ROUND HERE WITHOUT A REASON TO LOVE MEiN ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONEi THINK YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH(wITH ALL THAT YOU-WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE)(wITH ALL THAT YOU-WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE)(wITH ALL THAT YOU-WITH ALL THAT YOU'VE DONE) Para los que se preguntan por qué no tiene tantas reproducciones, recuerden que el paraíso no es para toda la gente.
kino thread
ermm *shuffles like a penguin* awkward
>>80226463Brown pussy sex
that's it?
lukegawd and dinsdale sitting in a tree f-a-p-p-i-n-g
iheartwaltuh
LUKEGAWD
>>80226918I ain't ever backin down
my life's pretty rough atm but i like checking back here to realise it could be worse. I have hopes for the future thanks /dft/
shit lookin like the good ole days lmfao
>>80226989Me and who?
>>80227185Imma go another round (ough)Imma go and the crown (ough, ough)sand blast...you picked the wrong guy... to mess with
>>80227214>>80227185>>80227158>>80227102>>80226989>>80226918he Alpha of Awe. The Brute of Brawn. The Cultivator of Champions. The Duke of Domination. The Emperor of Eloquence. The Fiercest of Fighters. The Gorer of Goobers. The Height of Hip. The Imperator of Intellectualism. The Judicator of Justice. The King of Knights. The Lord of Loquaciousness. The Master of Mixed Martial Arts. The Naysayer of Noobs. The Overlord of Obituaries. The Prince of Passion. The Que-hagen of Quixote. The Ruler of Ruination. The Sultan of Street. The Titlist of Terror. The Undertaker of Ubiquity. The Vitiator of Vappas. The Warrior of Weaklings. The Xenophobe of Xenogeny. The Yardmaster of Youngness. The Zhar of Zoning.THE INDOMITUS REXTHE ALPHA OF ALPHASTHE KING OF KINGSTHE LORD OF LORDSTHE FUTURE OF STREET FIGHTERLUKEGAWDAPEXPREDATORLuke the MASCULINEGRIPLuke the CRUSHINGINSURMOUNTABLELuke the UNSURPASSABLEINDOMITABLELuke the UNYIELDINGAESTHETICLuke the BEAUTIFULSWOLELuke the RIPPEDTANKLuke the RESOLUTEPHYSICALLYIMPOSINGLuke the INTIMIDATINGGLARELuke the DOMINEERINGJUGGERNAUGHTLuke the UNSTOPPABLEDISCIPLINEDLuke the ENLIGHTENEDZENLuke the SPIRITUALPOTENTLuke the VIRILEALMIGHTYLuke the INVINCIBLEVALORLuke the DAUNTLESSIMPERIOUSLuke the DOMINATORINVICTUSLuke the ETERNALMAELSTROMLuke the TITANICQUAKELuke the SPACE-TIME SHAKINGCOLOSSUSLuke the LEVIATHANBEHEMOTHLuke the MASTODONICMONSTERLuke the TERRIFYINGLORDLuke the KINGDEITYLuke the CHRISTCRIMSONLuke the LEGENDSUPERNOVALuke the TRANSIENTKECHAD THE LULUCHAD THE KELUKECHAD THE CHADKINGCHAD THE LORDGAWDTHE CHAD OF CHADSENGAWD GAWDLUKEGAWDGAWD GAWDGAWD GA GAWDENTER LUKEGAWD
>>80227185Me.
>>80227297luke-gawd-sama かっこいい
>>80227214Mwaaaaaaahhhh~>>80227300Hi nonny.
>>80226636BBCfappies?
>>80227349
>>80227350i can go another round, tag?
>>80227349muchuu
are you guys fapping is that why it's dead do you do that
>>80226636That nigga is stealing the blackness from her hand
>>80227102Classic humble brag if your life is as good as it is and you're still failing maybe kill yourself
>>80227349Hi anon... I'm really horny and was absentmindedly tugging at my cock through my pants until the precum soaked through so I didn't see you respond.I wanna get swallowed up by those tits and those hips and give and receive lots of really wet, tongue filled kisses.
Anywaaaaays, my balls are full..
Someone who feels very sad and wants to talk about it, mainly because the year is ending and they feel like they didn't do much this year and that next year will be more of the same.
>>80228215that sure does sound like me, fucking december always brings the blues
does anyone here draw? what are good resources to start learning
I came.
>>80228287to what?
>shitted troon samefagging and posting into the void>retarded bot dropping walls of text Nice thread
>>80228307Pregnant maid slop and reading old logs.
>>80226636>>80227350>>80227522
>>80228191Message your favie ryne
>>80228326Post the slop.
>>80228414https://files.catbox.moe/dflgsw.mp4
>>80228282pic unrelated if I were to start over knowing what I know now I would say copy images you like it does not matter what you do yet you have to build observational skills to know what you're even looking at. Just focus on visualizing the art or photo as having form to it and drawing it as something that wraps around three dimensionally in space and do this for a while, when you start asking questions about why something is the way it is that's when you look at resources for it/guides
>>80228452>the shot of her sole and toes when she spreads her legsuughghhhh I'm a slave to feet
>>80228452now post the logs.
YEAH I'M A NIGGER WHAT ABOUT IT YEAH I'M A NIGGER WHAT ABOUT IT YEAH I'M A NIGGER WHAT ABOUT IT YEAH I'M A NIGGER WHAT ABOUT IT YEAH I'M A NIGGER WHAT ABOUT IT YEAH I'M A NIGGER WHAT ABOUT IT
Draw varmint.
>>80228402Mmhmm, I just don't know if I'm in a solo jork it mood or not
>>80228466Thanks you for this. I tend to look for any excuses I can find not to draw because l had to stop for health reasons and when I tried to relearn it, I lost so much muscle memory that it felt demoralizing. lessthan3
>>80228558GACHA SLOP FAGGOT MAKE SOME SUICIDE THREATS AGAIN L00SER
>>80228499I share weird pregnancy smut but all you focus on is the split second of feet? Disgusting little foot freak, you're a lost cause.>>80228505https://files.catbox.moe/h4tvob.png
>>80228680
DISGUSTING BLACKED KIKE ROPE ASAP
>>80228546Can I fuck your daughter
>>80228663pumping to the log
>>80228615good luck also just stop and think about why you want to draw and what you want to create and write that down or put it somewhere you'll remember it for when you get stuck or burnt-out
I don't feel like pretending to care about other people I just want sex.
>>80228731CRACKER OD ON ALCOHOL
>>80228790I dont care if you cum or not, Im just using you
>>80228663Yesss! I'm a filthy little foot slave. It's so much hotter that it's a split second. I already thought the pregnancy smut was hot, "just hot", then I get the flash of foot and it makes my horny neurons fire off like fireworks and I'm gripping my cock so fucking hard and leaking over just that split second. When I've been gooning for hours on end with HMV streams going on both monitors and my cock is waning and I'm getting tired and frustrated from all the edging and suddenly some girl getting fucked has both her soles and toes in frame randomly for all of 3 seconds it's like an injection of arousal straight into my cock, it's throbbing and swollen and as hard as it can get all over again!
>>80228788AI > YOUR PATHETIC DOODLEPUT THE FRIES IN THE BAG L000SER
>>80228828Yeah something like that. I do care if I cum howeverbeit.
>>80228828This is how I feel about eating pussy. I want to worship pussy with my mouth but it's not because I care about her pleasure. I wanna sniff and lick her sloppy cunt because it turns me on.
>>80228842NO ONE CARES STFU EAT SHIT AND DIE
>>80228868>>80228861FAGGOT BETA ALERT
DON'T MAKE A NEW THREAD FAGGOT
>>80228282>>80228615cute cute cute pictures for a cute artist anon. lessthan3 is so cute i'm gonna steal it
>>80228982VOMIT INDUCING POST ROPE ASAP
>>80228948it sounds like someone misses their favorite avafag>>80228982this is also a cute picture from a cute anon maybe im gonna steal you~
>>80228842so you need some special kind of porn to make you cumhttps://files.catbox.moe/y7s2eg.webm
Nobody sits down with a feet anon for long but everyone loves to have a go at teasing them.
>>80229020steal me?? i'm not precious enough to be worth stealing i think... you could just pay the small fee instead i think! unless you're into stealing for the thrill of it in which case I guess nothing i say could convince you otherwise..
>>80229020YOU DON'T KNOW ME FAGGOT>>80229030YOU NEED HELP
>>80229079stop copying looni nigger
>>80229063>>80229079FAGGOT AIDS
are mine uncute I put a lot of value on it I'll cry I didn't get a reply like that
>>80229120UGLY GENERIC WHORE NEXT
miss looniforuuu and her contributions changed the world
>>80229138L000SER L000SER STOP POSTING
>>80229030this is almost the opposite of what I described (hentai with just a flash of surprise feet to reinvigorate a worn out cock)but it had me on the edge of my seat letting my tongue hang out with drool dripping while I kneaded and slapped and tugged my cock and dripped a different kind of drool
>>80229138your pictures were cute also i'm sorry don't cry i just thought it'd be weird to flirt with two anons in one post! but yours were still cute thoughever
>>80229151>>80229174DID I ASK??
>>80229079small fee? but friends are priceless anon. there is no such thing as a small fee so I must whisk you away under the light of the moon>>80229106I know everything about you worth knowing
>>80229151looni (and moniii, same person) truly changed the world by being inexplicably simped for by everyone in existence while being the worst kind of serial ghoster and uninspired shitty flaky lewder (was so detached and unreliable I truly would believe it if you told me they had a real vagina)
>>80229188>>80229198STD TRANNY
>>80229205nigga got filtered
>>80229198whisk me away to discord then ! we need only exchange our tags.....
NEW>>80229222>>80229222>>80229222
>>80229196Go for a walk. Get fresh air. You're all in your own head. I know how you feel. All that rage and resentment and anger bubbling up from your stomach like bile, it kind of feels like a lump in your throat does when you wanna cry, that sour sting, but it's just in your core of your being, and your mind feels like it's being piled on to, or like it's drowning, and you're just swirling in a weird whirlpool of negative hateful maybe even violent thoughts, like a psychic purgatory. So you wanna lash out at everyone, you really want others to feel bad too, you hate that they're not as miserable as you uniquely are right now.Get some fresh air it'll clear your head at least a little bit. Too much "stinkin' thinkin'".
>>80229235shut the fuck up mary
>>80229030This is really fucking hot. Thanks for posting.
GAY = MENTAL ILLNESS
>>80229235angelfallendown>>80229138you are so sweet, stay pure anon. hopefully I can share a drawing with you soon!
