When did you being violent start? What made the ‘click’ for you?

When did you being violent start? What made the ‘click’ for you?

(submitted by: Anonymous)

I was the neighborhood backyard school teacher when I was 9-ish. I taught English and History. My classes were 100% contrived to result in me paddling every student at least once.… Read the rest “When did you being violent start? What made the ‘click’ for you?”

Just found a delightful pair of “signed” asks from 2019. The first is talking about her heart beating faster, being pathetic… and closes with a note of dismay that I had my DMs turned off at the time.

Immediately after that ask —presumably after she kept scrolling— in all caps (paraphrased): NOPE NOPE NOPE I’M SCARED NEVER MIND!… Read the rest “”

At this point, I don’t know if I’m at the end of the line…

At this point, I don’t know if I’m at the end of the line of girls who might catch your eye on some distant day, or if I’m not in the line at all. So I suppose my only options are… to make a fool of myself… or to make an even bigger fool of myself.

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You’re so cocky but I’m still obsessed with you a smidgen (21%) so maybe…

You’re so cocky 😂🙄 but I’m still obsessed with you a smidgen (21%) so maybe I get it.

I’ll meet you where you live.

(submitted by: Anonymous)

Approach me like a normal person, and I’ll speak to you like a normal person.… Read the rest “You’re so cocky but I’m still obsessed with you a smidgen (21%) so maybe…”

I feel so deeply vile right now. I hate that I love the things…

I feel so deeply vile right now. I hate that I love the things that I love.

(submitted by: Anonymous)

Never answer love with hate, kiddo.

You may need to refine your love, or reserve your love, or redirect your love… I’m not saying every passion is fine for every person.… Read the rest “I feel so deeply vile right now. I hate that I love the things…”

I can’t sleep and I’m scrolling through your blog and I feel hollow. Like…

I can’t sleep and I’m scrolling through your blog and I feel so… hollow. Like all this space inside of me which should be filled with real things and ideas and values is instead only flooded by this constant ache for something to change.

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