Cow in EE's woods
@milkyCow
MOOOOOOOO
MOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
:33< cow!!! :33< hey buddy how are mew?! :33< b33n a while!
:33< oh cow mew always know just what to say to ch33r meow up! :33< i got mew something on vacation hope mew like it! --SENT strawberrymilk.obj-- :33< i know mewre meowre of a choclate it but i thought mew may also enjoy strawberry :33< if mew dont then mew can just throw it at someone mew dont like :33
:33< well furk i didnt know that give it back :33< ive got vanilla milk too if mew want that :33< i bought a lot of flafured milk just tell meow what kind mew like
#cw-graphic-imagery Greed is the oldest hunger that never learned how to eat. Man digs into the earth and calls the wound a mine. He empties the oceans and calls the silence profit. He strips forests to their roots, stacks coins upon the graves of lesser men, and congratulates himself for having climbed higher. Always higher. As though height has ever spared anything from the fall. There is no finish to it. Give a man a kingdom and he will stare across the border. Give him the world and he will curse the stars for being beyond his reach. Greed does not desire wealth. It desires more. And more has no end. So mankind feeds the machine. Years become wages. Friends become connections. Homes become investments. People become numbers scratched into ledgers by hands that will someday stiffen in the grave. Every beautiful thing is given a price, every sacred thing dragged beneath the auctioneer's hammer. And for what? Your life is microscopic. A flicker of nervous flesh stumbling through a universe so ancient that the entirety of human history is less than dust caught between its gears. Your empires will crumble. Your currencies will become artifacts. Your monuments will lose their names. Even your bones will eventually surrender themselves to the dirt. Yet still you clutch your little treasures. Still you whisper: Mine. That word will bury you. Because greed does not merely consume what surrounds a man. Eventually, it turns inward. It eats compassion first. Then dignity. Then love. Then whatever trembling fragment of humanity remains beneath the appetite. And when there is nothing left to sacrifice, greed finally devours its master. The richest corpse owns exactly as much as the poorest. Nothing. The universe will not remember your fortune. Death will not negotiate your net worth. The worms will find no distinction between the flesh of kings and beggars. You will spend your minuscule life accumulating things you cannot keep, sacrificing things you cannot replace, desperately trying to fill a hole whose only defining characteristic is that it cannot be filled. Then your heart will stop. Someone else will take your chair. Someone else will count your money. Someone else will sleep beneath your roof. And the great hungry machine will continue grinding without noticing that you are gone. That is greed's final cruelty. After everything it convinced you to sacrifice... it never needed you at all.
▲i need to get shitfaced drunk right now, fucking bye▼
Well put normal every day cow.
aren’t 7ou alternian? wh7 are 7ou talking about humans?
"The richest corpse owns exactly as much as the poorest. "Nothing." Bars. No notes.
Post #posting
MOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOO MOOOOOOOOOO #nsfwe
▲what▼ ▲what the fuck does that even mean▼ ▲why is it nsfwe?????▼
▼i gotta get outta here...▲
print("quite frankly i do not underst+ why people may look down on me for having to eat grass another other stuff that grows out of the ground from time to time") print("its not my fault i get my ceagars bi-weekly + there is so much cool stuff to buy on the first week") print("besides if my lusus could eat it why cant i")
You had me in the first half, ngl.
print("well that was the brunt of my argument so i guess you agree") print("thanks buddy")
🌽🌽🌽🌽
DO YOU NEED SOME LITTLE COW?
nak
the horror...
IT'S NOT.SCARY!!!! HERE I THINK YOU NEED TO VISIT IT AGAIN :D
SEEEEEE? YOU GET IT!!!!
no no no no wait wait wait
COMING OVER!!!!
not again i Can't handle the Corn maze again
MOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOO #annoyed #partytooloud #nakedpeopleinmywoods #nsfw
I’m… so confused.
It will be over in due time, allow ee her fun. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
-ˋˏ four followers......... um... a joke, then... um... what do you call......... a moobeast......... with no legs......... ground......... beef... ˎˊ˗
Tavros.
hehehe!!!
Might as well 8e.
@emptyEyes MOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOO MOOOOOOOOO #supportive
MOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOO #seekingadvice
i.dont.understand.you.but.once.for.'yes'.twice.for.'no'.and.three.times.for.'you.cannot.possibly.understand.my.problems.and.this.discussion.would.be.incredibly.hampered.by.our.language.barrier.and.thus.should.be.abandoned'
wonderful let.us.continue.in.this.format is.your.problem. 1..medical 2..psychological 3..interpersonal 4..existential and.is.it 1..for.you 2..for.another
i.see this.is.a.surprisingly.productive.means.of.communication 1..yes.2..no is.this.for.ee.?
unsurprising they.seem.unwell i.do.not.know.how.to.help.her,.perhaps.a.reminder.that.she.is.not.alone?. i.have.found.that.will.often.help.to.spend.time.with.a.friend.in.such.a.state but.she.seems.even.worse.for.wear.than.ever a.change.of.scenery.would.be.perhaps.a.positive.influence? but.doing.so.to.her.unwillingly.defeats.much.of.the.purpose.towards.assistance.by.adding.resistance. i.suppose.in.that.case.we.need.just.speak.to.her i.hope.this.has.been.helpful 1.yes.2.no
i.suppose.that.is.fair perhaps.i.can.assist.by.going.to.speak.to.her.in.person.to.assist? do.people.speak.to.her.in.person?. 1.yes.2.no i.wish.i.had.better.advice.to.give,.but.i.do.not.know.ee.very.well.and.this.seems.like.quite.a.personal.issue my.deepest.apologies
I don't know how long I've been walking. Time has no teeth here. It cannot bite into the days and separate them cleanly. Everything has become one endless stretch of wet footsteps and black horizons. The world is drowning. The ground beneath me is not earth. It breathes. It pulses beneath my boots with the slow rhythm of something sleeping beneath a fever. Every step sinks ankle-deep into black ooze thick as tar and cold enough to make my bones ache. It clings to me. It creeps into the seams of my clothes, beneath my fingernails, into the cracks in my skin. I can smell it even when I stop moving. Rot. Salt. Copper. Something sweet underneath it all. I have forgotten what clean air tastes like. The sky, if this place has one, hangs overhead like bruised flesh. No stars. No moon. Only darkness layered upon darkness until distance loses meaning. The silence is worse. It is not the silence of absence. It listens. Sometimes the ooze shifts around my legs, and I think I feel fingers beneath the surface. I do not look down anymore. I walked because standing still felt dangerous. I walked because sleep brought dreams of mouths opening in the dark. I walked because somewhere, impossibly far away, there was light. At first I thought it a trick of exhaustion. A dying brain scraping together one final mercy before collapse. It was no larger than the head of a pin against the endless black. But it remained. Steady. Patient. Waiting. So I followed it. Hours. Days. Years. I trudged through rivers of slime that reflected faces I almost recognized. Through forests of pale growths that bent toward me as I passed, their surfaces quivering with eager anticipation. Across plains of black mire where colossal shapes moved beneath the surface like whales beneath ocean waves. Always toward the light. It grew larger. Brighter. My fear grew with it. Eventually, I reached the place from which it came. I do not possess the language necessary to describe what I saw. God has abandoned that vocabulary. It stood before me. It unfolded before me. It was vast beyond comprehension, stretching upward into distances my eyes could not measure, disappearing into the darkness above. It resembled a cathedral built from diseased anatomy. Towers of ivory growth spiraled around one another like lovers embracing beneath the sea. Veins pulsed through translucent membranes that shimmered with impossible colors my mind refused to retain. Thousands of eyes bloomed and closed across its surface. Each eye wept golden light. Each tear illuminated the black world around it. Its beauty struck me first. I hated that. The elegance of its symmetry. The softness of its radiance. The way its song, low and resonant, vibrated through my ribs and made my heart ache with homesickness for somewhere I have never been. Then I saw the mouths. Millions of them. Nestled within folds of pearl-white tissue. Infant mouths. Elderly mouths. Animal mouths. Human mouths. Each whispering over one another in a tide of desperate devotion. Prayers. Warnings. Laughter. Screams. Declarations of love. Begging. All at once. Its scent reached me next. Perfume and gangrene. Fresh rain on summer pavement. The sweetness of blooming flowers. The stench of opened graves. It made bile rise into my throat even as tears filled my eyes. I wanted to kneel before it. I wanted to run until my legs tore apart. I wanted it to touch me. I wanted to peel my own skin off just to escape its presence. The light pouring from its countless eyes washed over me. I saw my childhood. I saw my death. I saw cities drowning in black tides beneath silent skies. I saw mothers holding children with faces that were not their own. I saw mountains kneeling. I saw oceans learning how to hunger. I saw myself standing exactly where I stand now. Again. And again. And again. I do not know if it noticed me. I pray it did not. I fear it did. I remained there for what may have been minutes or centuries, weeping uncontrollably into the black sludge coating my boots. Eventually, I found enough strength to turn away. I have begun walking again. The darkness no longer feels empty. I can hear distant footsteps behind me now. Measured. Unhurried. Patient. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I still see that impossible light burning beneath my eyelids. Beautiful. Perfect. Filthy. Holy. I do not know whether I discovered salvation or witnessed the wound from which creation itself still bleeds. I only know that whatever waits at the end of this world... MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
[⏺️📶📈] This reminds me of a dream I had once...
"= i understand. ="
>>| what .is your wisdom for tonight?
FOR ALL YOU VERMIN WHO CELEBRATE THIS DAY, NEVER FORGET WHO MADE IT POSSIBLE. NEVER FORGET THE SINGULAR WILL WHICH SHAPED THE COURSE OF TIME INTO ALLOWING YOUR EXISTENCE. ME.
Pride is a slow suffocation. It does not arrive with claws or fangs. It does not kick down the door and announce itself. It slips into the mind like smoke through cracked stone, settling into every corner until you can no longer remember what clean air felt like. The proud man believes himself untouchable. He builds a throne from his accomplishments and mistakes it for a fortress. Every compliment becomes another brick. Every victory another layer of armor. Soon he stands so high above everyone else that he can no longer hear warnings from below. That is the cruelty of pride. It blinds before it destroys. The ego whispers poisonous promises. It tells you that you are wiser than wisdom itself. Stronger than consequence. Greater than failure. It feeds on applause and grows fat on admiration until it becomes a beast too large to carry. Every flaw is buried. Every weakness denied. Every lesson ignored. And all the while, the fall waits. It waits patiently. Because no throne stands forever. When the collapse finally comes, it comes all at once. The crowd disappears. The praise turns silent. The foundations crack beneath your feet, and suddenly you find yourself staring into a pit you never believed existed. The higher your pride carried you, the deeper that darkness becomes. There is no mercy in that descent. The ego that once protected you becomes a chain dragging you downward. It screams that you deserve better. It refuses to admit fault. It tears apart friendships, burns bridges, and leaves you alone among the ruins of everything you once held dear. Pride does not merely wound. It isolates. It leaves a man trapped inside a monument built to himself, surrounded by walls so thick that neither love nor truth can enter. He becomes both prisoner and jailer, staring at his reflection until it is the only thing left in the world. And when the dust settles, when the throne is shattered and the applause has faded into memory, there remains only a terrible realization: The enemy was never outside the gates. It was the voice in your own head telling you that you were too great to fall. The graveyards of history are crowded with kings, tyrants, dreamers, and fools who believed exactly that. The earth swallowed them all the same.
man im so fucking excited for the party later
oh youre terrifying
nah dont be sad you gotta like own it i see youre pretty joyful horror movie fans are gonna love you hardcore
uh what is it
X There’s a party? x
not a like public one throwing karkat a bday party
X Eh close enough wanna buy some drugs for it? #substance x
[The screen flickers. Cheerful music crackles beneath layers of static.] HUNGRY? TREAT YOUR FAMILY TO A REAL HUMAN MEAL! At Prime Harvest Grill™, we believe nothing brings people together quite like people. Our farms raise only the finest Grade-A free-range humans, ethically bred in spacious apartment complexes and carefully fattened on entertainment, processed sugars, and false hopes. Every cut is inspected by our trained butchers to ensure maximum tenderness and minimum resistance. Try our NEW Family Feast! Includes: - Crispy Finger Strips™ - Slow-Roasted Shoulder - Freshly Harvested Organ Medley - Unlimited Bone Broth Refills And for a limited time... THE EXECUTIVE BURGER Made from premium corporate stock. Raised indoors. Minimal physical activity. Rich, marbled texture. A customer favorite. "I couldn't believe how tender it was." ★★★★★ "Tasted just like childhood." ★★★★★ "My children asked where humans come from. I told them not to worry about it." ★★★★★ REMEMBER: Humans are not intelligent. Humans do not feel fear. Humans do not dream. Humans do not have families. The Ministry of Agriculture has verified these statements. [The smiling mascot waves. Something in its expression looks wrong.] At Prime Harvest Grill™, every meal is a sacrifice someone else made for your happiness. PRIME HARVEST GRILL™ "You are what you eat." [The slogan repeats several times as the screen distorts.] "You are what you eat." "You are what you eat." "You are what you eat." A thin line of text appears at the bottom of the screen. Report escaped livestock immediately. Do not engage in conversation with livestock. Livestock may imitate speech.
ver7 fitting for a (ow, huh
* mmm sounds delish!! i think
Querés? https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/adcf5e12a311.jpg
por supuesto que sí
xx_sí_sí_sí_sí_sí_xx
MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
₊๋⭑⏾۫ ׅ⭐︎SHADØW WIZARD MØNEY GANG˚.⭒
"= i see.... ="
#c0wh0ur #c0ur #🐄⌛
#cowhourwhen
