Michael walked in after an obviously rough day and slumped on the sofa, gawking mindlessly at his phone.
I am fortunate enough to have a delightfully huge bathtub, and I was going to grope my younger son in it. The faucet squeaked and the water rushed into the tub. I pulled the curtain and lit a single candle. Adding some vanilla and bourbon bubbl...... 1 reply
Ironic how the same ppl who preach about morals here gives a minor sex advice and encourage this behavior while hating on people who get looped unto this while they do the same practical shit. reply
It's stupid you moral police go attack people for reading what's fictional only. Doesn't harm anyone and y'all act like your whole families were murdered by somebody reading jinx. Hypocrites for what? Mind your own business if we read taboo series.
I stay awake at night and look up at the stars, wondering what's wrong with me. i think i'm afraid of the answer. i don't want to be faced with the cold, bitter truth that this is who i will always be. i don't want to face the girl i could have been if i had only lived differently. i can't blame anyone else. i can't blame my mother. i know her days were blackened ash and thorns. but why couldn't you have made me good enough for you to love me as i am? i owe her my life, yet she extinguishes the stars in my eyes and the hope in my heart with just one breath. i can't hate you, but i can't love you either. maybe i'm a dog and your love is the wound i keep licking open. i don't think that it will ever heal. it will continue widening, expanding, and consuming more of me with each passing day. at what point will i become the wound itself and not the owner of my own skin? will i become whole one day? i'm not a child anymore. i don't think i ever was. sleeping is hard recently as whenever it is dark and my head is resting on the pillow, i can hear the rumble of my pulse beneath my ears. it sounds like footsteps on gravel. maybe it means i'm growing up, that my years are dragging me by the wrist, but i can't stand to hear this dirty proof that i'm still alive. please. tell me i'm more than what i couldn't do. i can't find any joy in being alive. why does surviving have to feel like this? why couldn't it have been me instead? i have so many regrets.
It is beyond absurd that two adults can be jailed for consensual romantisexual activity, yet it remains so normalized because ick-based politics are easier than swallowing the "uncomfortable" truth for many people. Here's hoping that mainstream social progressive thought expands to include consanguinamory in the future.
did my friends left me
did question
