last night i was approached by a cop late at night in the graveyard while i was dressed very visibly gnc, as well as had an open container of alcohol next to me, a lit joint in my hand, and a switchblade on my belt and all he did was ask if i was doing alright and went on his way.
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i love strawberry flavoring. she is my best friend <3
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I firmly believe having mobility aids in cool colors and/or customized is huge in accepting your own disability! I have a few canes with rainbow stickers on them and my forearm crutches are orange, which I love. It makes things a little less painful.
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Hey folks... it seems that my main account @satanspersonal666 has been terminated by @staff ... I have no idea why, and I am destroyed about it. Please let me know if anyone knows of a way to get my content back, that blog was my diary for the last 10 years of my life.
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i open the tumblr app. i beat back 10 porn bots with a stick. i close the tumblr app.
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Hello all. My account was @satanspersonal666 but @staff terminated my account and hasn't responded to my support request. I don't know if I will rebuild or not, but I wanted to have a secondary blog (aside from @emmett-is-a-bad-poet) to maybe house some reblogs and posts temporarily until I *hopefully* get my account restored
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your father was a prophet
spreading the word of god
with clenched fists and slammed doors
god may be filled with love for all, but the prophet contained only violence
he wrote prayers in ink-colored bruises on your mother's throat and he shamed sin with your sister's shattered ceramics
i don't know of any merciful god who would allow a prophet to judge as if he were god himself, but your father did anyways,
going as far as to try and ban me from your presence to prevent my faggotry from infecting you.
your father was a prophet,
a force to be reckoned with,
because the lord was on his side…
i wonder what happened.
your father was a prophet but after awhile his gospel strayed further and further from god's light,
leaving your whole house encapsulated in a darkness unmatched.
he built a home and a life for your family with his calloused, carpenter hands and he destroyed it too,
forcing us to duck and cover and cry and just wait for the rapture to end.
we were not chosen to ascend to the heavens, and neither was he.
your father was a prophet who spread the fear of god like a virus.
maybe he did it because he was sick, or maybe because he was afraid too.
maybe he was right to be afraid.
your father was a prophet, but even prophets die someday.
i wonder if his god forgave him in the end, and i wonder if i should forgive him too.
but your father was a prophet,
i'm sure he was prepared to meet his maker and repent for all of eternity.
after all, he prophesied millions of gruesome ends-
one had to belong to him.
Your Father, Who Aren't In Heaven by Emmett
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