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#tween
mmmm. ok. well, maybe guessin’ you can draw a timeline, a zone any where you can “cart” o’graph on a globe so not all time zones Are created equal and there is one out there that gets just 30 minutes Must be a fast place paced to live; so much to write, and all you get is 30 lousy minutes…. mmm love me a good challenge
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Apr 21
Apr 21, 2026 at 3:59 AM UTC
Wierd: New York is 9:30 hours behind Mumbai, India.
they call me a nymphet my narrow hips budding ******* my glowing skin rosebud lips in the sun where i rest... older women are fat and cold with porous skin and dyed hair they haven't their blades like gold salient and bare they haven't their thighs like ivory of thin ivory are mine i'm british and brattish they're just fine they call me a nymphet with my schoolbag hanging from my frail shoulder decadent and delicate please just for a while not a nymphet but a hurting child
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May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
nymphet
My dear old flame I'd sigh with your name, follow you then lost in your eyes. No they aren't as clean nor as deep or as blue, they aren't the sky or the ocean or pools. oh no, not pristine, luster of glass. The closer I'd peer into them by the end You'd appear to me, but an ***
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
toilet seat love letter
There is a boy walking, maybe ten or eleven, a skateboard under one arm, his shirt branded with THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID. And I wonder, what did she say? Did she say she liked his tricks or his ratty sweatshirt? Did he blush, swishing his hair in response, exuding confidence and cockiness, in the mean time remembering his mother, calling out to him before he left the house. Did she say “Son, don’t forget your helmet!” Even though he was already gone— Or was she really a he, who sat him down a few months ago and said he’d be gone for awhile that he’d see him soon— it’s been six months— and maybe, when the boy heard this, he ran out. And maybe when he gets older maybe he will run out more often, to hang out with those who are deemed to be “the wrong crowd” and he will be drunk and high, stumbling under the streets, above the lights, hearing-but-not-hearing everything that she is telling him. She is telling him the secrets of the universe.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
That's What She Said