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transvampireboyfriend · 56 minutes
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you came back wrong and i am racked with guilt because i cannot bear to see you like this and i should have let you rest. i loved you so much that i defied death itself but i do not think either of us are happy
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i love you, Two Catfish as Street Musicians in the Kashina district, ca 1855 of an unidentified artist, you go so hard
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i think i have an injury in my left pec/shoulder because the area keeps randomly hurting and since im a fucking hypochondriac whenever it hurts i think im having a heart attack and since im chronically mentally ill i keep having panic attacks about thinking im having a heart attack because of pain that may or may not be a real injury. but anyways, gn! hope i don't die! (will probably stay up until 5am bc of course i think if i survive the night im good but if i go to sleep ill die bc i have FUCKING OCD) haha.
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i hate when i send someone a meme in another language and they're like "uhm... translate? 😒" fucker i sent you a meme where 90% of the words have an english cognate and/or you don't need to know what they're saying to find it funny. can you at least TRY
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i love six o clock because the clock looks so stupid. "|" like get real
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A fallstreak hole is a large gap, usually circular or elliptical, that can appear in cirrocumulus or altocumulus clouds. The holes are caused by supercooled water in the clouds suddenly evaporating or freezing, and may be triggered by passing aircraft.
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the flip side of this is when i see someone complaining about anything i get SO excited. im like "YEAH! FUCK HIM!" (does not know who 'he' is)
since im a chronic complainer, if you don't complain to me, I feel like we're not friends :(
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i need a coffee table book of every image ive ever reblogged
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getting a lot of questions about my shirt that says “I WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH INDUSTRIAL MACHINERY” that are already answered by the shirt
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I think a lot about who I am to other people in the world–particular who I am to strangers as a mere concept in their lives.
Today this woman called our information desk and said, “my son’s band is playing tonight. I want to come see him, but he never answers his phone…..I want to be there. Have you heard anything about his band?”
And I felt so bad for this lady but I’m not in the music scene around here so I had to tell her no, sorry.
Five hours later, I’m hiking and run into a group of guys setting up for some outdoor performance, and as I watch them unload the drums it hits me.
“Hey,” I said, “are y’all in a band?”
They said yeah and smiled and I told them “one of your moms called today. She wants to watch you play, but she can’t get a hold of you. Call your mom.”
And they all pulled out their phones and started discussing whose mom it probably was as they presumably dialed their own.
And now, unless we meet again and recognize each other, that’s who I’ll be forever to those guys–some mysterious courier for mom-messages who came out of the woods and told them their mom called.
I didn’t even tell them why their mom called me. Who am I to their mom?? Nobody even asked. They just took my word for it and called their mothers.
Amazing.
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