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reminds me of the time i was staffas
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File: 1779730593058-0.jpg (65.38 KB, 643x643, g_12877698 - dc5fe3eecef2c….jpg)

  No. 274947 [PM]

The Being is claustrophobic, it tends to prefer the open spaces…

  No. 274948 [PM]

bob wallah

salam alaikum

  No. 274951 [PM]

File: 1779731180345.webm (1 MB, 576x1024, 1753072253123203.webm)

The Being in question:

  No. 274952 [PM]

File: 1779731566433.mp4 (3.19 MB, 720x1280, 1779701351513762.mp4)

>>274951
Huchi

rate this cat

  No. 274953 [PM]

File: 1779731662945-0.jpeg (505.27 KB, 3000x4000, g_12239107 - a40650b08ef4….jpeg)

>>274948
Aleikum salam habibi
>>274951
Cats seem to love being at home all day, so dunno about dat

  No. 274954 [PM]

>>274951
Protect this being at all costs

  No. 274961 [PM]

File: 1779734388718-0.jpg (50.84 KB, 700x700, g_13723692 - 3b1c5fa9baafe….jpg)

Lately, Ive become more bitter. For some reason I just got less patient, I thought I had practically limitless stock of patience but now Im not sure why Im patient at all

It is difficult to have an anchor, a base, to be relying on. I dunno, I really cared about doing the thing right but Ive never thought or felt wrong that there is no right at all. I thought, in earnest, that I should be appropriate and correct, to be the best possible version of self. And now I dont know wat dat is. How can I do a best job, the most correct or right thing, when there is no such thing. There is hardly any anchor, there is no response to gauge and no alternative to compare to. And yet, there is a feeling that there must be some thing like dat. Other wise, no thing make sense, otherwise there is hardly any rationality to any action, the rationality simply evaporates and all wat is left is a betrayed feeling

All wat Ive been thinking about lately is dat death is indeed better than living. Sound ominous but its true. It is an utopia to view the world as a place where love and family just wins, where living becomes just a maxim. If love is the reason, wat is love then? Is love just corruption or is it the contrary of dat. After all, the ultimate expression of love is not some thing romantic, it is mundane and boring, ultimate expression of love is affirmation of it, a statement on its value, the realization of love as a value

I cannot find an affirmation of life that is just plainly not a sadistic lie. I cannot feel any sense of fulfilment, all I can feel is bitterness and hypocrisy of it all. And it is scary. Where is the meaning? Meaning is not here, it is anywhere but here…

  No. 274970 [PM]

File: 1779736070237.png (70.25 KB, 640x300, Lucky-Star-Konata-Featured….png)

>>274961
problem with dat is wat is a death? Death is not an exit if dat world did brains. And so it goes…

“In a sense, fear is the daughter of God, redeemed on Good Friday. She is not beautiful, mocked, cursed or disowned by all. But don’t be mistaken, she watches over all mortal agony, she intercedes for mankind; for there is a rule and an exception. Culture is the rule, and art is the exception. Everybody speaks the rule; cigarette, computer, t-shirt, television, tourism, war. Nobody speaks the exception. It isn’t spoken, it is written; Flaubert, Dostoyevsky. It is composed; Gershwin, Mozart. It is painted; Cézanne, Vermeer. It is filmed; Antonioni, Vigo. Or it is lived, then it is the art of living; Srebrenica, Mostar, Sarajevo. The rule is to want the death of the exception. So the rule for cultural Europe is to organize the death of the art of living, which still flourishes. When it’s time to close the book, I have no regrets. I’ve seen so many people live so badly, and so many die so well.”

dat is the thing dat said about doing the thing, doing the right thing… The world is a thing for a place for an expression of a thought of "day things" dat's why sat thing is dat thing. what is a life? what is rationality? it is all dat… dat is self-fulfilling prophecy…

"the sky seemed to split apart from end to end to pour fire down upon me" dat is wat a fundamental excursion is, a didactic dialectic of fundamental principles is wat is needed, so dat becomes the override of the overture, the transgression of all transgressions, the cerulean transience of all my imagined shores, the fundamental axiomatic presentation of dat…



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