are. are keyboard smashes a thing. on tumblr.
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gripping people so hard by the shoulders. stop projecting your embarrassment and disgust for your own teenage self onto people who are currently teenagers. if you're so sure that adults are so much smarter and more competent than teens then how about you act like it and stop taking your feelings out on others. also stop hating your teenage self and practice respect and compassion for who you are and used to be, but the need to at the very least stop externalizing that feeling is kinda urgent.
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reblog this post with the song that was last stuck in your head, I'll start:
505 by Arctic Monkeys
(tagging some people with no pressure so this doesn't flop miserably @viivdle @thejudeduarte @agirlwiththoughtsandnegativity @motherfeyre-archeron @sweetvillainjude @kazbrekkersfedoraaintgotshitonme @his-littlefox @graaaaaayy @jesyverse)
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HOW DO WE GET THESE BORING AF PRIMARY COLORS FOR THE SPLATFEST WHILE JAPAN GETS THESE REALLY BEAUTIFUL COLORS?? MY GOD I REALLY WISH I COULD SWITCH SPLATFEST REIGONS...
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Nightmare and Dream human designs because; yeah. B) felt like it. it was supposed to be just a sketch at first so I could get my ideas down but oh well ig
yellow
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like i'm so fucking ill about it. the (shipped) gold standard was the last song they needed to play to have performed every single song off of folie à deux live at least once. the record that has caused them the most pain. the one that they avoided like the plague for over a decade after its release, save for i don't care and the occasional instances of disloyal order, what a catch, or 20 dollar nose bleed when they toured with panic! that one time. the one that patrick wouldn't even talk about, for the longest time. it got them booed visciously, it got them dissected by critics, it got them pelted with garbage and glowsticks at shows, it got them stressed and strained to the point of needing to pause all efforts as a band to make sure they could still stay FRIENDS in the wake of it, and now it is the only fall out boy record that they have played 100% of, INCLUDING lullabye and fucking pavlove. and the last song left was (shipped).
you can only blame your problems on the world for so long. i want to scream "i love you" from the top of my lungs, but i'm afraid that someone else will hear me.
(or, they used to be afraid. evidently, not anymore.)
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I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his moans echoed on this audio of a sex tape with one of my best friends' moans that I also immediately recognized on the tape. I would know the sounds he makes while having sex in death, at the end of the world.
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