I raise the gun to my head.
I thinks of death and mortality.
I always thought it might end like this.
I think about my friends.
Like any friends, they will be devastated.
Then I think of him.
He would be shattered.
A mere vessel of the boy once there.
He would still be breathing,
But he would be just as dead.
I breathe in, I breathe out.
I put the gun down. Count to ten.
I put it back in the locked drawer.
I wouldn't, I can't do that to him.
That would be killing more than just myself.
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not now mom i’m wasting my life on a website the entire internet believes to be dead
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Another very old doodle, inspired by those two little kitties
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which is definitely not an omen
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In the club freakin it Wilson style
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me when the group starts talking about boys
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another real wilson emotion
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*gender reveal party video voice* I’m your peepaw and I HOPE TO GOD you’ll be a nonbinary barista
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middle is a reference to that one hilson post but i couldn’t find it
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thinking about young ethan hawke in a backwards ball cap and sunglasses stuck on a roof with some dudes saying "we're not gonna make the fucking audition"
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"Thoughts on women?" Yeah pretty much constantly
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the dead poets would not be swifties and i’m tired of pretending they would
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all the “weird” content on tiktok feels so fabricated and performative. whereas on tumblr you’ll meet someone who will casually admit they eat paint
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