Death is not an apology,
But instead living is the greatest punishment of all. Being forced to continue on by the slow and painful march of time. Knowing more hardships are on the way, and that a smile must be put on to not bring down others.

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@3rni
Death is not an apology,
But instead living is the greatest punishment of all. Being forced to continue on by the slow and painful march of time. Knowing more hardships are on the way, and that a smile must be put on to not bring down others.

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Silence haunts
Like a ghost, a phantom taking up space where something real once was. A lingering feeling but acknowledgment of absence. It’s haunting, it’s scary. Silence where there once was vibrant sounds.
It’s a unique kind of pain to find out everything they say about you is true. It’s a new perspective, one that flips the mirror back around. How deep does one chose to look.
Surface level; how do I look today, Are my teeth yellow, Where is my eyeliner- no deeper
Under the skin; how am I doing today, Where is my medication, have I eaten- deeper please
Bone chilling; am I doing this for external gratification, I’m making people uncomfortable, am I interested or curious about you.
Frankenstein’s Monster longs for a world he can not access. He feels as if no matter how close he gets to human, he will never be quite right. He sees and hears the lives of those around him and has no release. The sorrow from being forced to watch everything you ever wanted be just outside of arms reach. It is easy to feel like a monster when surrounded by humans, people who live their lives with the connections n passions that come so easily to them.
Even worse is the monster that has it all and loses it. The weight of emptiness, silence where once was sound. Dark where light once shown. And the loneliness, from propping yourself up. On top of all the things known to be ‘yours’ And the second it’s taken away, and all you’re left with is yourself.
Is it enough. Am I enough.
My bones ache, my joints creak. Sharp words, hurt feelings, and lingering emotions crawl and swell from under my skin. It’s stupid but I can’t ignore them. I wish I could tear it out, I would do it if I could. Skin, Flesh, and bone ripped and torn until nothing is left. The itching, the crawling, all of it gone. Nothing is left
Nothing

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mob posting
I never liked the cold.
I forces me to stop, to halt, to wait. It slows me down and makes me not want to get back up.
Cold isn’t always bad.
I get to put on some warm blankets, it’s nice. I feel like I can hide away, tucked in this warm little spot just for me.
It feels like there is this constant dark raining cloud that looms above me. It’s forever just above my head so when I crane my neck to see it, it will always move. I walk around drenched in its wet sorrow, dragged down by my damp clothes, water in my boots so I can’t help but drag my feet. It feels unfair like everyone is able to see this dark nimbus but me. You can watch but only from a safe distance, you don’t want to get wet too do you. you can linger and pity the wet clown because that is easier than being inconvenienced. Or you can shield your eyes all together, out of sight out of mind.
This dark nimbus, when did it first form. I can’t remember. Sometimes it grows, sometimes it shrines. But it just won’t stop raining. . .
Been having a rough couple months. You know what that means,
Getting tattoos this week :D
⭐️SPAMTENNA WEEK 2025⭐️ Day 3: Marriage

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Finding one’s place, the strength of knowing and trusting your position and your abilities. I look at these principles and reflect on opposite. The pain of not knowing or believing in one’s abilities, the feeling of misdirection and hesitation. I too get paralyzed in the midst of it all, seeing other people step up and not the wanting not to be left below.
Losing friends speedrun
Feelin unwanted, so we turn to tumblr B)
"it was suicide" how does someone w broken arms and broken legs climb a tree to hang themselves? how does someone w broken arms and broken legs tie a noose and put it around their neck? how does someone w broken arms and broken legs do that?
they don't.
it's called lynching, it's called murder, and anyone telling you otherwise is a racist who would watch Black people die for entertainment before so much as lifting a finger against the police, against the politicians, against white supremacy. a young man's life was snuffed out by white supremacists, but you people will not talk about it bc you'd sooner watch Black people suffer & die so that you can keep your "safe space".
Trey Reed was a student, only 21 years old with his entire life ahead of him; he was found hanging from a tree near his university's sports court. the racist police said there was "no evidence of foul play", despite his body being beaten and his bones broken.
Ashleigh Walls, who represents the Reed family publicly has already had to put out a statement BEGGING for you sick cunts to not share the footage of Trey's body, because even in DEATH, Black people aren't human beings to you, but fucking entertainment objects.
“On behalf of my family, I ask that you please not share the very graphic video of Trey. For some of you it’s information, entertainment even but for us it’s a living nightmare. At this time we ask that you keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we navigate through this difficult time.”
Ben Crump, a civil rights solicitor, is also representing the Reed family, and is putting pressure on to conduct a full, independent, investigation into the death of Trey; they are going to pursue justice and transparency so that Trey can be properly put to rest, and his family don't go through even more trauma.
“Trey Reed was a young man full of promise and warmth, deeply loved and respected by all who knew him. His family and the campus community deserve a full, independent investigation to uncover the truth about what happened. We cannot accept vague conclusions when so many questions remain. I stand with this family, and I will lead a team of civil rights leaders and organizations in pursuing transparency and answers for Trey’s family.”
Black people do not lynch themselves, and given the history of hanging publicly and the history of Mississippi itself, there is no way that Trey would've committed suicide by doing that, especially with broken bones; a three to five minute walk from where he was living. During the celebration of the university turning 100, a public spectacle. 48 kilometers from where Emmett Till was murdered. that's not a suicide.
Trey deserves justice. Trey's family deserves justice.
do not let another Black body become "true crime" entertainment, only to be forgotten about when the next murder that you can turn into some salacious, anti-Black, whodunnit comes along; do not let Trey Reed become some "true crime" campfire story that dishonours him, dishonours his life, and glorifies racist violence. do not let Trey Reed be forgotten and swept under the carpet.
do not let another Black person's life and love be swept away and covered up by white supremacist media, police, social media and talking points. do not let Trey Reed become another statistic, another number, another object. Trey Reed was a student, a family member, a friend, a living, breathing, person who was murdered; do not let him fade into silence. do not let his family go through that.
remember his eyes, his hair, his face, his name. remember HIM, and fight for his justice.
Do yall think Spamton and Tenna’s ability to give head is negatively or positively impacted by their whole nose situation
Spamtenna head game
Positively affected
Negatively affected

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I’m late to everything 😬 oops
Vent blog:
Interpersonal connections are so hard in this economy. It’s so hard to send a text n find time to chill when the world is burning.