i really don't talk to anybody how i used to anymore. all that friend shit faded when i realized people only love you when it's beneficial for them
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An important need to know. So, if Watson is Sherlock's Watson then who is Moriarty's Watson?
Asking for a friend. They don't like Moriarty's Watson, something about it being too vague, and I don't like Tod.
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konosuba never misses
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I know it's very European of me, but I consider certain elements of American life total nonsense. And I'm not talking about the lack of gun control or calling a sport football where players hold the ball in their hands and run with it and throw it. I'm talking about issues where I read something, watch something, and probably I just don't have the context and I just can't figure out WTF is going on.
This is the latest example:
Taylor Swift dating Travis Kelce
...
...
...
It's a conspiracy against Republicans and they are losing their shit.
Can someone please fill in the blanks?
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Being into getting called "princess" is so funny because it sounds like I'm trying to turn every person I have something going on with me into Ice King
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interesting tidbit about myself i just remembered/was reminded of. i may have spoken about it before here
i apparently naturally smell of or like smoke. like, my musk smells naturally smoky
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Can you remember without hurting yourself?
@un-suflet-anonim
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THE BIGGEST ADVICE I CAN GIVE YOU IF YOU WANT TO START DOING YOUR OWN MAKEUP IS TO
KNOW YOUR FACE
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psychology says: when you are ignored by a person whose attention means the most to you, the reaction in your brain will be similar to physical pain
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I finished!!! This is the Nameless Lady and part of Dorain Payne. It is done in gouache and watercolor. It is a partial portrait done off a story I am writing. I've never really made artwork of my stories before, so this is a brand-new frontier for me, so if you like the portrait. Please feel free to read the story.
Links to the Intro | Chapter One | Chapter Two
(Also, I scanned one of my pictures for the first time. Yay!)
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i need to be held
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I left my old pair of black shoes in the corner
And walked barefoot over fake wood
Like it was crystal clear sand
Like I was encrusted above earth.
Each new thought burning
In the back of my skull
Like a wild child
Like the memories of an old flame.
I started to dance under the ghost
Of the heaven I never met,
Childless,
In a lonely hour
With dust under my feet sparkling
With the hope for nothing
And the crave for everything.
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Acho q minha fantasia é estar presa dentro do carro por causa da chuva forte, com a pessoa da minha vida e alguns cigarros. Por algum motivo chuva me dá uma sensação de intimidade gigantesca.
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Alas, I have become part of that colective composed of black people, people with curly hair and men and, by dyeing part of my hair a different color than the rest, I have become way less able to use Picrew accurately.
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