Making Shitposts Until I Get Struck With Motivation From The Gods

A moulin has its own gravity.

More than what ties us to the earth.

The pull is much stronger, like invisible arms

tugging at my sleeves.

It reaches out, beckoning, whispering

“come down, join us, come and see what lies beneath. 

Come and witness the divine mysteries.”

The roar of water becomes a rush of voices,

crying out in rapturous wonder as they tumble

into the blue.

I long to join my own voice to that choir.

This is not suicidal.

I know that if I make the plunge, I will almost certainly die—

but death is not the void that’s calling me.

It’s something deeper.

Something older, yes, older than death,

older than life, older than the stars,

maybe older than God.

It has its own gravity.

do it scared. do it terrified. do it with the fear of god sunken into your bones. do it with your eyes closed. do it trembling. but by everything, you have to do it

this has probably been done already but i had a vision so

I know that feel, bro.

"We met next day as he had arranged, and inspected the rooms at No. 221B, Baker Street, of which he had spoken at our meeting. They consisted of a couple of comfortable bed-rooms and a single large airy sitting-room, cheerfully furnished, and illuminated by two broad windows."

the wrath of the lamb

doomed pussy got me following the path of my undoing

Idk who needs to hear this, but god’s plan for you is to read your little gay fanfictions don’t worry you’re not wasting your time

Will in this hat

all of humanity in his hands