nature which headlong into life doth throw us,
with our feet forward to our grave doth bring us,
what is less ours, than this our borrowed breath,
we stumble into life, we go to death. -thomas bastard
- JoinedOctober 26, 2018
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akissforcatullus
Nov 02, 2024 04:54AM
my solution to any problem is to just die before i get to the point of having to deal with itView all Conversations
Story by 𝔏
- 1 Published Story
an air of stately melancholy
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my desperation and longing is rotting me. i cannot be both patient and happy, nor pleasantly hopeful without...
#374 in melancholy
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