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DEAR READER
taylor price
Cosimo Galluzzi

JBB: An Artblog!

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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occasionally subtle
art blog(derogatory)
Misplaced Lens Cap

tannertan36
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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#extradirty
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will byers stan first human second

JVL
wallacepolsom

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dirt enthusiast
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@notearsleftttocry
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happy new year – may 2006 be a good one ☆
“Cats don’t actually love you”
A cat is a small creature in the middle of the food chain that is fully aware that you are a very large thing that could stomp its head in at any moment and yet it chooses to rest its tiny little head on your leg for a nap and spreads out on the floor near you exposing its belly and its most sensitive organs. It brings dead mice and bugs to you to share food.
Don’t you get it? This tiny thing trusts you. It wants to help you too. It licks your leg thinking that it’s helping. It kneads on you to find comfort. It shares its body warmth with you in the cold and gives you your space in the heat. It hisses at other mammals it sees outside including other cats in an effort to protect its family.
Cats love you so so much. But they will keep trying to eat plastic.
2006-12-08
Saitama, Japan
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sometimes, i can’t help but look back at the past and feel this heavy weight in my chest. there was a time when everything seemed brighter—when laughter came easy and the days stretched out like endless summer afternoons. we spent hours outside, running through fields and lying on the grass, looking up at the sky, dreaming about our futures. life felt simple and full of promise.
but now, it feels like each year just drags us down a little more. the joy we used to find in small things is harder to grasp. it’s like trying to catch smoke with our bare hands. we scroll through our feeds, searching for connection, but it all feels so distant and hollow. the laughter of friends now echoes like a faint memory, overshadowed by the noise of everyday life—responsibilities, expectations, and all the weight we carry.
i miss those moments when happiness felt effortless, when we didn’t worry about what was next or what we were supposed to be doing. feels like i'm always holding my breath, hoping for something to finally change for the better, but it really never does. it only gets worse. each year seems to blend into the next, and it’s hard not to feel lost in the routine.
as we sit and reflect, there’s this aching nostalgia for the past—those golden days we can never really get back. it’s bittersweet, you know? we can only hold on to the memories, the fragments of joy that still linger, like whispers in the wind, reminding us of a time when life felt so much more alive.
don't smile because it happened, baby cry because it's over