I can't oopsie doopsie my way outta this one
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I can't oopsie doopsie my way outta this one

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Lot of bad shit came out from it, most I can laugh at now, but,
I miss.. running Hazbin Disc Servers.
In that. I miss having a discord lil space w all my friends and mutuals for us to dick around and chat and do RP stuff and share posts and thoughts ...
GOD the fucking public text chat room rps were so funny and enjoyable. It was such a fun format to write in and it left so many hilarious situations.
and if I was a stronger woman, I WOULD make a little mutuals discord server and stuff again, but ... I’m awkward. I’m bad at communication and keeping things afloat. And I don’t wanna run a Disc by myself and shit yk. I liked just being an admin, not the main bitch running the show cus that felt too much pressure LOL
I dunnnnoo.. I guess I just want like. A happy little safe space again </3
𝖎𝖓𝖛𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖊
Me : I don't wanna go to work I don't wanna go to work I don't wanna go to work
The government : Schools are off for the next 10 days
Me : I don't wanna go to back home I don't wanna go back home I don't wanna go back home
wont be able to watch the game against the ducks later

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i've been writing to everyone i've ever said i loved. and i loved my hurricane girl, with her photo booth lies and her soft hands. the first one who ever held my heart like a grenade that never kept a pin. she wore it around her neck, she did. i bet she's still got it tucked away somewhere. i never asked her to send it back. she don't call this place home anymore.
sunny boy with his flower petals and matches. his mind got dark quick, it did. got mixed up with black birds and storm drains. four years could never be the same. i bet he still doesn't drive with his hands on the wheel.
the sweet alabama man, shooting guns to music i pretended to care for. i still wonder if he was real or made of wood and nails. some days i wonder if it would have made a difference. he stays away, he does. he knows not to come around here.
my lunch box lover, with his shitty car and the two times he almost killed us inside of it. i would have let him back then. when i saw him two months ago, he was a deer in the headlights. his eyes were still so bright. his friends told me he went missing last year, they still never found him like i did.
and the boy with the blue eyes, never wrong, never on time. with the late night phone calls i pretend i don't answer. the stallion fool with the broken gold.
and in the end, i’m glad i’ve learned how to love and be alone.
a poem for past lovers, a.m.
i just made ramen this is the third time ive ever cooked properly ever