You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Yeah, see, my first thought was "PRINCESS", but I'm sure that was taken by some spoiled white girl whose daddy bought her a car for her 15½th birthday. Also it's too many letters.
"AVENUE" or "CALCIUM" would work, but they wouldn't mean anything to people who know me outside the internet...
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Fair enough. It's not like random guy on Broad Street is going to understand the significance of my plate either way.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
...Whoa, "AVENUE" is actually not already taken.
This is unexpected.
EDIT: I love how the website, in addition to telling you the number isn't taken, provides a little mockup of the plate:
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There's a beauty to forgiveness, especially forgiveness that goes beyond rationality. Unconditional love is an illogical notion, but such a great and powerful one.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
*declares the next poster the Time Warner Cable of the Heapers' Hangout*
I'm too much of a troper to be a heapster, and I'm too much of a heapster to be a troper. I don't belong at either place.
I love books too much to truly love the digital word, but you guys mean so much to me, I can't just abandon all digital media. Besides, though reading on paper is better than reading on a screen; writing on a screen is much more conductive to writing than writing with paper and pencil.
I'm too much of an anorak to belong where I live; but I'm probably too much a product of my home and its culture to belong anywhere else. I know for a fact I couldn't live anywhere without mountains. I also need windows, a room without windows is a room not worth living in.
I want to learn, my thirst for knowledge is a fire within me; but to use the internet to learn just seems like cheating; and the glow of knowledge is not served at all by a flashing advertisement informing me that I am the 100,000th visitor. However, the internet and other digital resources are necessary for the indexing of family trees and historical records so important to my religion.
Where do I belong? Where can I not be told to take off my hat, where can I find tropers, heapsters, art, books, windows, knowledge, computers, quiet, music, memories, solitude, companionship, holy writ, family, friends, historical records and family trees, and flowers?
Does such a place exist? Is there a place for me as I am?
Oh, right. The library. Why did I not immediately think of that. Seriously, the place is my second home.
Yes, the library. 'Tis where the central and important things of my life all converge.
The winds of life blow, shifting everything in a whirlwind of change until nothing you knew is recognizable. Only trees and stones remain constant in the winds of life; but stones are dead and cold, I want to climb on stones, to base my identity upon a foundation of faith and certainties, but I do not want to be a stone. I must not become a cold, static, unfeeling constant person. Trees cannot move, either; and the only way they change is to become more of what they already are. I've got to be able to choose my own path. How can I change, but still come back to where I was?
How can I live and not become lost in life?
What contends with the wind and is not lost? What leaves its home, its bulwark of certainty, explores, and then comes back to the comforting safety of home? What creature lives with the wind, and not the ground?
A bird.
I must learn to accept the whirwinds of life without despair, I must not lose my place in the world, I must learn to explore but find my way back to friends and family.
I shall be a bird, flying from tree to tree, between all the places I don't quite belong, in the forest of a library. A bird is, after all, a reptile; and the closest relative to the crocodiles. In the view of all life, they're practically the same thing. 'Tis nothing but a change of attitude.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Ugh, I wish I had someone to talk to about the "purity" thoughts
Somebody who understands...it seems like Idler could relate the most, and he doesn't come here anymore...
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Fuck it, I'm gonna do the same thing I did for the gender shit: write a long rambling blog post about it.
I've learned to tolerate drama...except on the boat
^^Soos is the janitor of the Mystery Shack. He hangs out with Dipper and Mabel and is generally a cool guy. He calls everyone "dude" regardless of sex/gender.
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Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
How does one discern realistic faces from bad drawing?
Generally, the former just kind of look "wrong".
I don't think it gets much deeper than that, though I guess you'd have to ask someone who can draw.
I've had religion come and go
But kept it in my heart
And if that heart was beating slow
Well, at least it played a part
Just an ordinary heart
Didn't have the fight
And I've tried to practice what I preach
But only preach a bit
And if that light is out of reach
Well, I guess I'll handle it
Just an ordinary light
We never kissed good-bye
Could I ask you for a favor
Even though it's not our way
Sing a psalm or light a candle
Say a prayer for me today
Just in case I wasn't chosen
And the Catholics were right
I've kept religion in it's place
So hard and resolute
I see you've found the perfect space
And you found my favorite suit
Just an ordinary place
Can I watch you breathe?
All those notches on the belt
Those diets on display
I took a pill or two myself
And I'm here now anyway
Just an ordinary day
Do you have to leave?
Keep it singular and simple
With nothing underneath
And let my epitaph be something
That my children will receive
Here lies a man who will believe
When it's convenient to believe
I've fallen in love again.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Eating dirty worms
Is it me or do you sang
Dirty-dirty songs
Fall upon the grass
With your dirty pass?
Don't you feel
Like the rain
Catch it before it's gone
Kitty-kitty cat
Where'd you get that
Let be be free?
Fly for a hat?
You just play the song
I never heard before
Little things walk around?
Out the back door?
I love books too much to truly love the digital word, but you guys mean so much to me, I can't just abandon all digital media. Besides, though reading on paper is better than reading on a screen; writing on a screen is much more conductive to writing than writing with paper and pencil.
I'm too much of an anorak to belong where I live; but I'm probably too much a product of my home and its culture to belong anywhere else. I know for a fact I couldn't live anywhere without mountains. I also need windows, a room without windows is a room not worth living in.
I want to learn, my thirst for knowledge is a fire within me; but to use the internet to learn just seems like cheating; and the glow of knowledge is not served at all by a flashing advertisement informing me that I am the 100,000th visitor. However, the internet and other digital resources are necessary for the indexing of family trees and historical records so important to my religion.
Where do I belong? Where can I not be told to take off my hat, where can I find tropers, heapsters, art, books, windows, knowledge, computers, quiet, music, memories, solitude, companionship, holy writ, family, friends, historical records and family trees, and flowers?
Does such a place exist? Is there a place for me as I am?
Oh, right. The library. Why did I not immediately think of that. Seriously, the place is my second home.
Yes, the library. 'Tis where the central and important things of my life all converge.
The winds of life blow, shifting everything in a whirlwind of change until nothing you knew is recognizable. Only trees and stones remain constant in the winds of life; but stones are dead and cold, I want to climb on stones, to base my identity upon a foundation of faith and certainties, but I do not want to be a stone. I must not become a cold, static, unfeeling constant person. Trees cannot move, either; and the only way they change is to become more of what they already are. I've got to be able to choose my own path. How can I change, but still come back to where I was?
How can I live and not become lost in life?
What contends with the wind and is not lost? What leaves its home, its bulwark of certainty, explores, and then comes back to the comforting safety of home? What creature lives with the wind, and not the ground?
A bird.
I must learn to accept the whirwinds of life without despair, I must not lose my place in the world, I must learn to explore but find my way back to friends and family.
I shall be a bird, flying from tree to tree, between all the places I don't quite belong, in the forest of a library. A bird is, after all, a reptile; and the closest relative to the crocodiles. In the view of all life, they're practically the same thing. 'Tis nothing but a change of attitude.
No longer do I fear the future.
Where they made me uninstall all torrenting software before they would let me connect.
See you later.
Also
Who is Soos? Am I being slandered?
Why is this important?