tragic tale of the precious boy

alright well lure him out and stick him on a bad dragon dildo on my lawn so everyone can see him
your neighborhood is probably full of subhuman indians like you too :ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO:
 
you can fuck each other when I send you to the afterlife nigga
who you gonna send into the afterlife??? you're gonna be in the afterlife and meet your raped grandma and little sister
 
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lmfao it's not even that crazy
youre a fat incel and nothing can change my mind

you forget im a grand jewish wizard, i know esoteric knowledge you couldn’t dream of
 
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your neighborhood is probably full of subhuman indians like you too :ROFLMAO::ROFLMAO:
i bought this house myself you little indian

im a fucking genius and homeowner at 17

YOU CANT WIN ACCEPT THE MOGG
 
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@cromagnon
 
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i bought this house myself you little indian

im a fucking genius and homeowner at 17

YOU CANT WIN ACCEPT THE MOGG
homeowner at 17 is impressive ngl what did you do to accomplish that? You're still subhuman tho
 
beautiful ahh
 
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homeowner at 17 is impressive ngl what did you do to accomplish that? You're still subhuman tho
im a genius handsome tall boy… don’t forget im very sentimental and emotional

like napoleon or julius caesar
 
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im a genius handsome tall boy… don’t forget im very sentimental and emotional

like napoleon or julius caesar
aight I get it, would you mind sharing your esoteric indian scamming methods now?
 
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just drop the methods you doing to much
 
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enlighten me mush.
 


i’ll start this off by saying i will admit the truth, im ungrateful for that of which i have, this unquenchable itching i have towards the pondering of my own tragic life

i think i’m some sort of martyr, some scapegoat
sent out into the wilderness, tainted by sin not of my own doing

some tragic poet, a innocent soul driven into the very wastes and landfills

Im not the protagonist of anything other than my life, surely had i been the centerpiece of a book or movie

It would’ve been a tragedy
my s GIF



My soul is clean and pure, innocent and virgin.


The young affluent handsome intelligent athletic sensitive boy has nowhere to go

for everywhere he may go all he will see is a torn wasteland,
a landfill ridden with corpses,
corpses which do not decay,
corpses that may walk,
may talk,
may blink,
may smile,
may even have a heartbeat should you press your ear against their chest

yet all he sees are corpses, the precious boy is alone, he is lonely, and he is aware of this

so the precious young boy searches and searches, only to be mistaken yet he dig through piles of corpses and cadavers

only to be mistaken, for he pour his soul out, for he put a piece of himself in the fire, maybe the smoke will bring another to thyself

the precious boy is sad and sullen, as the puzzle piece so intricately carved may not have a pair, for the machine might’ve broken or for his union be far away he may not find it,

even if the young boy searches countless days and countless nights
countless springs
countless summers
countless autumns
countless winters

he may not be successful even then, the precious boy knows this yet he hopes,
the young boy hopes and dreams

bump
 
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i’ll start this off by saying i will admit the truth, im ungrateful for that of which i have, this unquenchable itching i have towards the pondering of my own tragic life

i think i’m some sort of martyr, some scapegoat
sent out into the wilderness, tainted by sin not of my own doing

some tragic poet, a innocent soul driven into the very wastes and landfills

Im not the protagonist of anything other than my life, surely had i been the centerpiece of a book or movie

It would’ve been a tragedy
my s GIF



My soul is clean and pure, innocent and virgin.


The young affluent handsome intelligent athletic sensitive boy has nowhere to go

for everywhere he may go all he will see is a torn wasteland,
a landfill ridden with corpses,
corpses which do not decay,
corpses that may walk,
may talk,
may blink,
may smile,
may even have a heartbeat should you press your ear against their chest

yet all he sees are corpses, the precious boy is alone, he is lonely, and he is aware of this

so the precious young boy searches and searches, only to be mistaken yet he dig through piles of corpses and cadavers

only to be mistaken, for he pour his soul out, for he put a piece of himself in the fire, maybe the smoke will bring another to thyself

the precious boy is sad and sullen, as the puzzle piece so intricately carved may not have a pair, for the machine might’ve broken or for his union be far away he may not find it,

even if the young boy searches countless days and countless nights
countless springs
countless summers
countless autumns
countless winters

he may not be successful even then, the precious boy knows this yet he hopes,
the young boy hopes and dreams

TLDR?
 

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