Call me….. mister f*garette…

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Call me….. mister f*garette…
Damn
Murrit: REW//FFD art
DISMAS: The weird little girl to str/\nge m/\n pipeline///
JENTHA: t t this is so u unrelatable
JENTHA: im g g going to talk to my t t therapist
JENTHA: a a about how much i d dont relate to t this
DISMAS: Ok/\y///
DISMAS: Do you need something or///
MURRIT: >([dey didnt #av t#e basket robenz mint ice cream at #eebers so i #ad ta get ben10 jerries n itz ok i guess but itz kinda awful]
MURRIT: >([itz like itz not mint c#ocolate c#ip but itz also not toot#paste flavured, itz sume not#in else]
DISMAS: c/\n /\nyone he/\r me///
DISMAS: where /\m i///
my favorite silly fish :)
I fucking hate Murrit, but I love him. I hope he dies, but I adore him.
everyone draw Murrit in a dress 2025
the poem representing murrit on eigenstate locking yourself out then trying to get back in read thru it as u listen
the end of the poem where murrit smashes the glass and walks back into the time she took for granted filled with grief gawh ,,,