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Threads (3):
File: late.swf-(2.1 MB, 1064x300, Loop) [_] Anon 3344447 >> [_] Anon 3344459 late for starting off in life
File: late.swf-(2.1 MB, 1064x300, Loop) [_] [ LATE ] 3287693 Marked for deletion (old). >> [_] Anon 3287872 I don't think I am. Are you?
File: late.swf-(2.1 MB, 1064x300, Loop) [_] ; ; :v 3286065 I'm so tired. Marked for deletion (old). >> [_] Anon 3286068 >># Hang in there fren. >> [_] gravelord 3286072 >># we need more clocks >> [_] Anon 3286074 >># welcome back, :v >> [_] :v 3286083 >># thanks >># clocks are a good way to pass the time >># >welcome back I never went anywhere, I never go anywhere. I'm stuck. >> [_] Anon 3286093 >># aren't we all ;_; at least we're stuck on /f/ >> [_] recipe inside 3286109 >># >I never went anywhere Then why so lurk-y lately? Was beginning to wonder if you went full-anon on us. Lemme try to get things right again with a recipe. Anon Rice Crispies ingredients: 1 box Rice Crispies 1 computer (tablet or mobile acceptable) 1 box Kleenex Pour contents of Rice Crispies box into large bowl Set in lap and munch aimlessly while shitposting on favorite board. Use Kleenex as necessary to wipe away tears/urine/spittle etc. Single serve. >> [_] Anon 3286125 hey :v you wrote "aren't you late for someting" instead of "something" >> [_] :v 3286128 >># >Jamaican me crazy mon I'm abusing the shit out of my sleep aids at the moment it's a miracle I was able to make anything at all. but maybe its like the imperfections that make it what it is like totally the raw organic process of creation maaaan. >> [_] dedo !drZ3h7esek 3286139 >># just hang in there :v, it'll stop eventually >> [_] Anon 3286177 >># We'll all stop eventually >> [_] Anon 3286181 >># >am i late yeah. for sleep. should have been down about an hour 45 ago. yet here i am >> [_] Anon 3286198 We, the guilty. When the King come down, to trumpet sound The dead men share our bread. Catch you now the Martyr's crown, When blind men's tears are shed. There is a man at the end of the road, whose mouth is -not- closed. He is screaming the sound of the sleepless, who do not while in the witching hour. We wait, prisoners to the block. We wait for fate to come, in the quiet. We wait to be called home. They used to print on execution blades, "Cast In The Name, Ye Not Guilty." Who are we becoming? I say, we the Guilty. |
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