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me: *a hopeless romantic without a single ounce of romance in her life*
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me when the carbon monoxide level in my house becomes fatal
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as much as the concept of Jesus being a fairly normal lad has its charms, im personally very intrigued by the idea of him being just… extremely weird. not even in a mystical sense, just…….staggeringly BIZZARRE.
you go to the well to get some water, and here’s Miriam’s boy, staring at the sky, completely still. his expression is unreadable. you hazard a hello and ask how he’s doing, and he slowly, unblinkingly, lowers his gaze on you (he’s 8 and is missing his frontal teeth, not that this is making you any less uncomfortable) and says “I cannot speak of the state of my being, Nathan son of Saul, my brother, but rejoice for the water you shall take today will be as pure as the soul of the children of Heaven”
…you start sweating
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if you’re reading this, i’m putting a thought out into the world for you. a hope that whatever’s worrying you works out in your favor, that a happy moment comes your way, and that you have a heartwarming reason to smile tonight
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8 years old. College reading level. The weight of the world on my shoulders.
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my favourite ever literary trope is “you want me to be a villain? i’ll show you a villain” that shit gives me goosebumps and given the right context also turns me on
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I’m an open book, but written in a cryptic dead language.
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