2023.10.20 // 14:23 i looooove love love being outdoors in the fall. to me, it's a season for exploring
pics: fort tilden, queens, n.y.
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[Gideon Font: (561): ok first of all what the fuck]
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Francia in 561, divided between four kingdoms
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Steve wears glasses sometimes and Eddie had no idea. I think he finds out when they’re all helping Steve (?) move into a new place. Then Eddie is just absolutely obsessed after that.
Request 561! Send us an ask if you recognize this fic!
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Batman #561 |] Scarecrow Spoop
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Today's KAITO module of the day is:
How to Spend Christmas by Akiyoshi!
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Say what you will but those porn bot do be using names
I'm gonna start recording them as they follow me (and maybe it'll cause it to stop as per Murphy's Law)
Michell Bashline
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Drawing Robot Character Heads
Credit: Etherington Brothers
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[Gideon Font: (561): Do they mail horrible human being awards or do I have to pick it up or what's the protocol on that shit]
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Night 361, The Last Attack
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I measure every Grief I meet (561)
Emily Dickinson - 1830-1886
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain –
I wonder if it hurts to live –
And if They have to try –
And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –
I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile –
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –
I wonder if when Years have piled –
Some Thousands – on the Harm –
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm –
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve –
Enlightened to a larger Pain –
In Contrast with the Love –
The Grieved – are many – I am told –
There is the various Cause –
Death – is but one – and comes but once –
And only nails the eyes –
There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –
A sort they call "Despair" –
There's Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air –
And though I may not guess the kind –
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –
To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they're mostly worn –
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –
Emily Dickinson
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