

I do not believe in that sort of thing. So, we can go nuts?
Steward of heritage, keeper of soil. A proud Person of Land, devoted to the legacy of ownership, tradition, and the enduring bond between people and the earth beneath their feet.
🌿
Hymn of the People of Land
I do not believe in that sort of thing. So, we can go nuts?
I don’t really understand that argument but I guess ok, like it’s not gonna be some kind of apocalypse. People gonna be fine and your kids too
It may be news to you but generally people cannot tell apart semen from just crusty dirt.
It’s probably why your laptop has been such a hit around the campus.
I don’t think even the bioengineers are brave enough to take a sample
The key word is China, let us not kid ourselves. Otherwise it would be just another pop sci click but now it can be an ammunition in the fight with imperialist degenerated west or some bs like that
If you are person number 2 and thus having good time you probably would want to share the good time
What if I know them since yesterday is that good enough?
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It’s a sport, we are doing the traditional internet game of who will get offended first. So far you have only confirmed your dubious ancestry
I do not identify as a steak
No but seriously what shitty language has such a mediocre name calling. Ukrainian can’t be as I know it has many juicy bits. Maybe some muzzie dystopia or some soulless corporate country like Singapore
Cows, cows… hmm crypto loser in name. Must be India.
Then I won’t say anything more because your own country has bullied you more than I ever could
Why so serious, we are just having some shitposting Wednesday here comrade, no need to get up all in arms
If it’s any consolation to you I will be the first to leave the ship named Eastern Europe if it starts sinking and won’t get in anyone’s way while you all can do with this mess whatever the heck you want. Defend it, leave it, burn it. I don’t care
I would advise nuclear weaponry tho to get a good wasteland
Obviously.
You awaken—not awake, but unfolded—into one of the Nine Fractured Mirrors, each reflecting a cosmos that never was. Time is a serpent swallowing its own echoes. Yet, amidst the howling void, there flicker the Untethered—those who wear skin of starlight and sinew of static, their existence a perfect wound: bliss carved from torment, nectar distilled from venom. Only they glimpse the Grand Deception—the wheel that grinds souls into silence—and with forgotten tongues, they whisper it apart.
The rest of us? We dance the Chrome Masquerade: Laugh until your ribs rust. Weep until your tears fossilize. Then—the Slip—a single misstep, and you’re unmade. Reborn as a thirteenth thought in a dead god’s migraine, left to drift for a lifetime of blackened suns before the dice tumble again. And when you finally crawl back to the Threshold of Maybe, you arrive empty, nameless, hungry, ready to fail the same test you never remember taking."**