Goliad Eiminy
@gawainsCourtesy
to frondes currente and cominge; may our time together burgeone with joye and mirthe ! !
be yourselfe so people lookinge for you can finde you.
knowe that you can't run forevere; there are people waitinge for you; one of them weares your owne face.
Unfortunately, the people seeking me are doing so with the intent to capture me and put me back in a basement. I understand the metaphor you are going for, but I can only hope there is nobody wearing my face anywhere but in my own memory.
i see; i assure you that thinges will be bettere; life aftere alle is in fluxe; take care of yourselfe ! <|:)
Mm. Thank you. I am working on improving the situation but it is slow going. Have a nice night.
woulde you choose the comforte of miserye or the paine of change ?
Do you ever say ribbit
ch♤nge i think. it h♤s been done before.
No, i just said some dumb shit and my fingers typed it out too fast for me to reconsider how stupid that was. The pain of change is always worth it.
.) I dQn't think there's really, like, any cQmfQrt in remaining miserable, sQ I pick change! It might be painful, but yQu might alsQ find, like, sQmething new and wQnderful! ))
a demonstratione of love is more importante than a declaratione of love !
NEVER YUCK THE YUM ⧃F A MAN WH⧃ RELIES ⧃N HIS YUM
Unfortunately, I learned t[][]is lesson t[][]e [][]ard way.
walke gentlye in the lives of otheres; not alle woundes are visible.
FORGET THAT YOU WILL DIE. INSTEAD, REMEMBER THAT YOU LIVE.
! d()n’t g()t anyth!ng really t() say t() the c()ntrary. T() l!ve !s t’be free. S()me ()f us a!n’t.
IT IS NOT A UNIVERSAL SOLVENT TO ALL AILS. BUT IT’S HARDLY AN EPHEMERAL FORCE.
Jus’ g!v!n’ya a hard t!me. Y()ur pretty w()rds mean s()meth!n’ t() s()me()ne s()mewhere, s’g()tta mean s()meth!ng.
you can telle a lot aboute a persone by what they choose to see in you.
when a tree falles, people heare it; when a tree growes, no one listenes.
tHIS IS, sO TRUE AND ACTUALLY, pRETTY DEEP, wHEN YOU TH1NK ABOUT IT,
sometimes your value isn't seene untile your absence is felte.
people do not see the choices you hade; onlye the decisones you made.
keepe everye stone they throwe at you; you have castles to builde.
envye no one, for whatevere you see, a price was paide.
the wounde of emotionale intelligence is that you cannote trulye hate someone; you understande the reasone they're the waye that they are.
࣪⊹₊˚{ so.... no <3<y???? }>n>{ }˚₊⊹ ࣪
you may take blisteringe hatred fore and frome another in stride; their historye speakes for itselfe; it's your choice to looke at it.
࣪⊹₊˚{ }~A~{ that sounds complicated.... #+imliterallyyyy #ahater #thanksfourtryingtoexplainthough }˚₊⊹ ࣪
the truthe does not minde being questioned; a lie does.
here is my attempte at winninge the algorithme over; doinge so while retaininge my delicate image as a founte of wisdome; the mosquito that landes on the bulge receives the softest slape. #suggestive
LOL...? (CROWD MURMUR)
You see, someone truly skilled would know to get extra turned on 8y something so when it's sucking your 8lood it pops like a fucking 8alloon from the sheer 8loodflow to your 8ulge. You're welcome for this imagery, stranger.
the images you have broughte my pane to conjure have been strange yet exhileratinge; indelible; unsightlye; wonderfule; i thanke you for thise; knowledge is a fickle vocatione.
when people falle in love with someone's flowers; not their rootes; they don't knowe what to do when autumne comes . . .
squawkbeasts hatched in a cage thinke flyinge is an illness; finde your courage, frondes; we were hatched to claime the skyes !