>BUT YOU WILL NOT INVESTIGATE FURTHER NUSOI

NIGGERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

While I do think time travel is stupid and really beyond us, the Epstein files had me thinking about it again due to him mentioning it in an email. What do you think about the possibility of time travel? If it does exist, that would be kind of fucked. What if our history could've been altered by a higher person and/or government to fight their needs? It's really frightening stuff to me because what if we used to be a perfect utopian society, all connected and mostly on a similar understanding of things, and then, you know who, messed us up back in whatever era to separate us as people and communities? What if every bad thing was caused by a gentle nudge of a person trying to be a higher power and play god over the earth?

…………..

In a bygone age, when the era of men had not yet fully come to fruition, there were whispers on the lips of the folk of Europe of a land across the sea to the north. It was a land where, according to those men, temperate primeval forests covered miles of land, without end, where men had carved their marks into these woods, and there men lived for thousands of years, somehow unbothered by the scientific phenomena of age and the seemingly ubiquitous natural law of hyperborean frigid winds. The age of discovery has disproved any notion of this impossible land, traditionally placed a six days sail north of Britannia. Nonetheless, culture after culture in the annals of European history have described this land, the land of Thule.
<reddit space
What transpired in this fabled land is hard to say, and yet it has fascinated and captivated the imaginations of the minds of Europeans for aeons. It is not only the ancients, but modern revival of pagan tradition that has focused on the lands far to the north of the gelid forests of Lapland. The land of the midnight sun, in their eyes, is not the same as the mythical land of their alleged ancestors, as many historians have liked to claim. The Scandian new pagan man especially has denounced such claims, alleging that a more esoteric origin of their people exists than the current historic consensus, and though they are often denounced as unserious mysticists, the mythos and legacy of Thule nonetheless lives on in their hearts and among their tales.

Crazy?…



… i was crazy once….

>CP
>See 'P

Some people present the idea of a God as a father figure to humanity rather than a Creator, and more of a human-like being rather than a being of pure energy or something more esoteric.

Why would a god even have a physical form? Should he choose to manifest in his own world he made? Should he? Humanity was born into a world of sights and smells from the creativity of a man who has never felt these before. Would he feel jealous? Like a human crafting a world where you feel nothing but ecstasy and happiness placing his words on paper. A man would only feel jealousy for the world if he crafted it out of want and need and not because he merely wished to write something positive.

God is not writing on parchment, and he is not human (if he did not make us in His image). Does he want to live in our world? Some say that God or at least a fragment of an Angel is inside of all of us, that all are capable of Good. Yet, the inverse is also true. The capability for evil is more rampant than ever and some even feel inclined to act upon Evil rather than Good, as it is easier.

It is easier to cave a mans head in than offer support, that is clear. But why would you ever cave his head in? Why would you ever help him?

There is no clear reason to want to do this other than a primal instinct. People are always saying that humanity should think more and not rely on primality, but if you do so, you exchange this for coldness. Why would you want that? Are you cold?

I don't want to be cold.



Do you?

Some people say that god is afraid of us. Fearing that our power will one day rival his own, as there are many of us and one of him. Some also say that he is made in our image, so we will reap his power one day.

I am afraid of that day. I do not think I would be able to wield it, as he was Great, and I am, and never will be something as amazing. He made us, all of us, he made me happy, yet I can not make anyone happy. I fear for everyone here. I want everyone to be happy and warm, yet I can not wave a single hand.

Favoritism, pessimism. All these 'isms' that I do not want to even begin to understand. Nonsense among nonsense piled onto piles and piles of nonsense. The want for everyone to be happy and feel that they belong is a feeling that I fear only I have, and nobody else does.

I may be too empathetic, perhaps even weak. Hatred among hatred piled onto piles of hatred. I do not want to hate, yet I do. Are there conflicting personalities inside my head? No. I feel whole, yet fractured into many pieces that can communicate with each other and understand their words and sentences and sounds and smells perfectly yet they just can't put their words onto parchment or shape the ink on their feather into a nice little image to show emotion.

I want to make a masterpiece, I truly do, yet I just can't. I have so many things to show everyone, so many vistas and emotions to perfect and turn into an image that can just embed into the viewers brain like a bloody parasite. I want to share things, show them.

Yet I can't.

And yet, when I forget about this.

I am perfectly fine. Why is that? Why can I shift into these conflicting porcelain masks?

Porcelain is a fickle subject, is it something akin to ceramic? A fired version of clay?

How do people find about this anyway? It's all so interesting.


I'm ranting.

Dear reader, I apologize to you for wasting your time. All that I want to say is that whatever is waiting at the afterlife, or perhaps at the end of life, I want to say to all of those that I inconvenienced, made unhappier, or perhaps even killed a heartfelt apology.

And all those whom I made their life a little more bearable, a little happier perhaps at even a microscopic instant of a millisecond…

I don't really have words for all of you. I love you? No, that comes off strange.

…


…



…


Thank you, God god creator father

Thank you, world.

everyone is busy about epstein liked yuri while most people does not know that n2 (fern hook) is a potential lolicon

After weeks of unexplained murders, the ominous unknown killer is still on the rise. After little evidence has been found, a young boy states that he survived one of the killer's attacks and bravely tells his story.
"I had a bad dream and I woke up in the middle of the night," says the boy, "I saw that for some reason the window was open, even though I remember it being closed before I went to bed. I got up and shut it once more. Afterwards, I simply crawled under my covers and tried to get back to sleep. That's when I had a strange feeling, like someone was watching me. I looked up, and nearly jumped out of my bed. There, in the little ray of light, illuminating from between my curtains, were a pair of two eyes. These weren't regular eyes; they were dark, ominous eyes. They were bordered in black and… just plain out terrified me. That's when I saw his mouth. A long, horrendous smile that made every hair on my body stand up. The figure stood there, watching me. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he said it. A simple phrase, but said in a way only a mad man could speak.
"He said, 'Go To Sleep.' I let out a scream, that's what sent him at me. He pulled up a knife; aiming at my heart. He jumped on top of my bed. I fought him back; I kicked, I punched, I rolled around, trying to knock him off me. That's when my dad busted in. The man threw the knife, it went into my dad's shoulder. The man probably would've finished him off, if one of the neighbors hadn't alerted the police.
"They drove into the parking lot, and ran towards the door. The man turned and ran down the hallway. I heard a smash, like glass breaking. As I came out of my room, I saw the window that was pointing towards the back of my house was broken. I looked out it to see him vanish into the distance. I can tell you one thing, I will never forget that face. Those cold, evil eyes, and that psychotic smile. They will never leave my head."
Police are still on the look for this man. If you see anyone that fits the description in this story, please contact your local police department.
Nophono and his family had just moved into a new neighborhood. His dad had gotten a promotion at work, and they thought it would be best to live in one of those "fancy" neighborhoods. Nophono and his brother Soyak couldn't complain though. A new, better house. What was not to love? As they were getting unpacked, one of their neighbors came by.
"Hello," she said, "I'm Nobaldi; I live across the street from you. Well, I just wanted to introduce my self and to introduce my son." She turns around and calls her son over. "Caca, these are our new neighbors." Caca said hi and ran back to play in his yard.
"Well," said Nophono's mom, "I'm Margaret, and this is my husband Peter, and my two sons, Nophono and Soyak." They each introduced themselves, and then Nobaldi invited them to her son's birthday. Nophono and his brother were about to object, when their mother said that they would love to. When Nophono and his family are done packing, Nophono went up to his mom.
"Mom, why would you invite us to some kid's party? If you haven't noticed, I'm not some dumb kid."
"Nophono," said his mother, "We just moved here; we should show that we want to spend time with our neighbors. Now, we're going to that party, and that's final." Nophono started to talk, but stopped himself, knowing that he couldn't do anything. Whenever his mom said something, it was final. He walked up to his room and plopped down on his bed. He sat there looking at his ceiling when suddenly, he got a weird feeling. Not so much a pain, but… a weird feeling. He dismissed it as just some random feeling. He heard his mother call him down to get his stuff, and he walked down to get it.
The next day, Nophono walked down stairs to get breakfast and got ready for school. As he sat there, eating his breakfast, he once again got that feeling. This time it was stronger. It gave him a slight tugging pain, but he once again dismissed it. As he and Soyak finished breakfast, they walked down to the bus stop. They sat there waiting for the bus, and then, all of a sudden, some kid on a skateboard jumped over them, only inches above their laps. They both jumped back in surprise. "Hey, what the hell?"