cemetarytimes
871 posts
I'm all about bad mum jokes.
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cemetarytimes · 5 years ago
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Aren't you Norwegian??
Yes I am, why?
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cemetarytimes · 6 years ago
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Where is my mind
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cemetarytimes · 6 years ago
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Du vet ikke kem æ va i går.
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cemetarytimes · 7 years ago
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A dog? I’m sorry, but how do you think a person is a dog? 
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cemetarytimes · 7 years ago
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I dreamed about a better world
But the world is the same everywhere
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cemetarytimes · 7 years ago
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마음병이 크다.
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cemetarytimes · 8 years ago
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cemetarytimes · 8 years ago
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"And when I could finally make my own decisions, I did wrong things. Bad things. Perhaps some people just aren't meant to choose."
#N
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cemetarytimes · 8 years ago
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If you’re an introvert, follow @introvertunites​.
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cemetarytimes · 8 years ago
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You know we fucked when Green Day had to come back with another political album
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cemetarytimes · 8 years ago
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Until we have seen someone’s darkness, we don’t really know who they are. Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is.
Marianne Williamson (via amortizing)
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cemetarytimes · 8 years ago
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Or Korean/Japanese.
When you use English to EVERYTHING and suddenly have to use full Norwegian sentences without inputs of English and you realize how much you struggle with phrasing completely normal Norwegian sentences. 
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cemetarytimes · 9 years ago
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The truth matters even if it hurts. I don’t understand how anyone can be happy living under an illusion. I don’t care if it feels real, it’s not real.
Scorpio (via zodiacsociety)
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cemetarytimes · 9 years ago
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cemetarytimes · 9 years ago
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Day 30
He laid down on the ice and pressed his face against it approximately two weeks later, hoping that from somewhere far below the sound of waves beneath him would reach him. The entire ocean couldn’t be frozen, could it? He closed his eyes and waited. 
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cemetarytimes · 9 years ago
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I'm beginning to understand Britney's meltdown in 2007.
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cemetarytimes · 9 years ago
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Day 12
Waves. He sat in his usual hiding place with his knees hugged to his chest, looking across the fields of ice in which the starlight mirrored itself. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine it was the ocean, and he could pretend that the sound of waves hitting the boat he had come by was somewhere nearby. But the ocean was miles away. And there were no lakes nearby that he had access to anyway. The only source how water was either that of which he drank or the tears pushing to escape his eyes when the ice was just ice, and starlight was just starlight.  However pathetic it sounded.
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