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  • even Betty Boop touched flames.
    even Betty Boop touched flames.
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  • Have you ever had that nagging sensation that you're out of place among the wrong people? Lately, I've struggled to find any opportunities at the place where I live. It feels like months have gone by with only empty promises from work, leaving me burnt out and unable to enjoy even the simplest pleasures.

    I can't shake this profound loneliness I've experienced for weeks, and it's perplexing since I’m in a relationship. It's odd when you are being told that they are here for you and to try to respond to this as often as possible on the same level, even when your social battery is depleted, yet still feel so utterly isolated. The depths of my depression have made it hard to get out of bed for days, with tears flowing freely.

    Am I misguided in my expectations of what a relationship should be? When I realize that a house is on fire, for example, and I hear some calls for help, I try to rescue this person from it if possible and don’t avoid it because it might be too “hot.” I believe in stepping into the flames to support those I love, to hold their hand as we navigate the chaos together. Yet, here I am, feeling like I’m trapped in my own burning house while my partner stands outside, unsure whether to come in or watch from a distance.

    I’m left feeling so conflicted… I love my partner deeply, yet I also feel profoundly abandoned and overlooked. I want to believe that love can withstand these moments of despair, that we can face life’s struggles as a team. But the distance created by unspoken words and unmet expectations feels like an insurmountable wall between us.

    I often wonder if I’m asking for too much—if my desire for connection is unreasonable in a world that often seems too chaotic to handle. Shouldn't a partner be a safe haven, a source of comfort during the storm? Or am I just searching for validation in all the wrong places?

    The fear of losing that connection, of being vulnerable and showing my true self, holds me back. There are days I crave honesty, but what if that honesty exposes too much? What if it reveals the depths of my struggles, and in response, all I receive is pity instead of understanding?
    Have you ever had that nagging sensation that you're out of place among the wrong people? Lately, I've struggled to find any opportunities at the place where I live. It feels like months have gone by with only empty promises from work, leaving me burnt out and unable to enjoy even the simplest pleasures. I can't shake this profound loneliness I've experienced for weeks, and it's perplexing since I’m in a relationship. It's odd when you are being told that they are here for you and to try to respond to this as often as possible on the same level, even when your social battery is depleted, yet still feel so utterly isolated. The depths of my depression have made it hard to get out of bed for days, with tears flowing freely. Am I misguided in my expectations of what a relationship should be? When I realize that a house is on fire, for example, and I hear some calls for help, I try to rescue this person from it if possible and don’t avoid it because it might be too “hot.” I believe in stepping into the flames to support those I love, to hold their hand as we navigate the chaos together. Yet, here I am, feeling like I’m trapped in my own burning house while my partner stands outside, unsure whether to come in or watch from a distance. I’m left feeling so conflicted… I love my partner deeply, yet I also feel profoundly abandoned and overlooked. I want to believe that love can withstand these moments of despair, that we can face life’s struggles as a team. But the distance created by unspoken words and unmet expectations feels like an insurmountable wall between us. I often wonder if I’m asking for too much—if my desire for connection is unreasonable in a world that often seems too chaotic to handle. Shouldn't a partner be a safe haven, a source of comfort during the storm? Or am I just searching for validation in all the wrong places? The fear of losing that connection, of being vulnerable and showing my true self, holds me back. There are days I crave honesty, but what if that honesty exposes too much? What if it reveals the depths of my struggles, and in response, all I receive is pity instead of understanding?
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  • AI is out there making better music than many of today's artists.
    AI is out there making better music than many of today's artists. 😆
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  • I spent what felt like the whole day today in the park in my town, which also includes a small, partially abandoned cemetery.

    This place makes me thoughtful because of its structure: on one side, children play innocently on a playground, while young couples stroll nearby, their hands intertwined. Yet, just beyond them lies a retirement home, where the building gazes longingly at the cemetery—a silent reflection of mortality.

    In between, smaller, older, crumbling statues stand sentinel, guardians of forgotten stories, their weathered faces etched with the sorrows and joys of those who have come before. Complementing these fading relics, scaffolding is being erected for new architecture, a juxtaposition of the old and the new, of decay and renewal.

    As I walk through this park, a question quickly arises: what does it truly mean to live? We are born, we grow, we learn, we love, and inevitably, we pass away. But do we fade into nothingness, or do we leave a trace behind in our borrowed time? Perhaps a whisper lingers in the hearts of those we touch, a thread woven into the very fabric of the universe, connecting moments that seem so fleeting.

    Is it not a privilege to love and be loved, to create ripples in the fabric of time with our joy and our sorrow? In this park, where the clang of swing sets mingles with the soft rustle of leaves, I feel both connected and isolated—a thread in the grand tapestry of life and death, pulled taut yet ethereal.

    Beneath the laughter and love lies an unspoken truth: we are all temporary. Yet, is it not the beauty of our transience that makes moments so precious, illuminated against the backdrop of eternity? The whispers of those who have come before dance in the air, and I wonder, perhaps they are not so far removed; they linger with us in our laughter, our tears, and in the very act of living.

    I realize that while our bodies may return to dust, our spirits, woven into the lives and hearts of others, may transcend even death, echoing in the stories told under starlit nights and cradled within the whispers of time.
    I spent what felt like the whole day today in the park in my town, which also includes a small, partially abandoned cemetery. This place makes me thoughtful because of its structure: on one side, children play innocently on a playground, while young couples stroll nearby, their hands intertwined. Yet, just beyond them lies a retirement home, where the building gazes longingly at the cemetery—a silent reflection of mortality. In between, smaller, older, crumbling statues stand sentinel, guardians of forgotten stories, their weathered faces etched with the sorrows and joys of those who have come before. Complementing these fading relics, scaffolding is being erected for new architecture, a juxtaposition of the old and the new, of decay and renewal. As I walk through this park, a question quickly arises: what does it truly mean to live? We are born, we grow, we learn, we love, and inevitably, we pass away. But do we fade into nothingness, or do we leave a trace behind in our borrowed time? Perhaps a whisper lingers in the hearts of those we touch, a thread woven into the very fabric of the universe, connecting moments that seem so fleeting. Is it not a privilege to love and be loved, to create ripples in the fabric of time with our joy and our sorrow? In this park, where the clang of swing sets mingles with the soft rustle of leaves, I feel both connected and isolated—a thread in the grand tapestry of life and death, pulled taut yet ethereal. Beneath the laughter and love lies an unspoken truth: we are all temporary. Yet, is it not the beauty of our transience that makes moments so precious, illuminated against the backdrop of eternity? The whispers of those who have come before dance in the air, and I wonder, perhaps they are not so far removed; they linger with us in our laughter, our tears, and in the very act of living. I realize that while our bodies may return to dust, our spirits, woven into the lives and hearts of others, may transcend even death, echoing in the stories told under starlit nights and cradled within the whispers of time.
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  • Place Your Bets Ladies and Gents!

    What will happen during the election?
    Place Your Bets Ladies and Gents! What will happen during the election?
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  • #Videogame #videogames #cthulhu #railgodsofhysterra #Lovecraft #action #strategygames
    https://www.rockpapershotgun.com/in-action-strategy-builder-railgods-cthulhu-is-a-train-and-youd-better-keep-it-fed
    #Videogame #videogames #cthulhu #railgodsofhysterra #Lovecraft #action #strategygames https://www.rockpapershotgun.com/in-action-strategy-builder-railgods-cthulhu-is-a-train-and-youd-better-keep-it-fed
    WWW.ROCKPAPERSHOTGUN.COM
    In action strategy builder RailGods, Cthulhu is a train and you'd better keep it fed
    RailGods Of Hysterra is one of those games that, as it were, shovels a bunch of relatively dried-up concepts into the s???
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  • What would you do if you really want to tell something to someone who wants to be left alone ?
    Would you disregard their wish and contact them anyways?
    Would you bite your tounge and wait, although what you want to tell might sort things out/make them feel better?
    What would you do if you really want to tell something to someone who wants to be left alone ? Would you disregard their wish and contact them anyways? Would you bite your tounge and wait, although what you want to tell might sort things out/make them feel better?
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  • The fucking drama I have been involved in the past few days! And I can't even talk about it for multiple reasons! Omg it is eating at me. It's better than any soap opera. If I was a shady person this would be a multi-part tiktok series with mind blowing updated and twists! AAAAAAAAAAAAA
    The fucking drama I have been involved in the past few days! And I can't even talk about it for multiple reasons! Omg it is eating at me. It's better than any soap opera. If I was a shady person this would be a multi-part tiktok series with mind blowing updated and twists! AAAAAAAAAAAAA
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  • For those of you whose hearts ache or deal with people being unkind Im so sorry you deserve better. People can absolutely suck and it is not your fault,its theirs. Keep shining and remember you are beautiful as is (no matter how you identify).
    For those of you whose hearts ache or deal with people being unkind Im so sorry you deserve better. People can absolutely suck and it is not your fault,its theirs. Keep shining and remember you are beautiful as is (no matter how you identify).
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  • Chris Pohl is better than the rest..
    Chris Pohl is better than the rest..
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