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🪶✍🏻𐙚🧸🎀
。˚.☕𐙚📜⭒๋࣭ ⭑🖋˚𔓘。💭ꨄ︎
💌🌷✨️📜🪶
📜🖋️🖌️🌿
𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖? 𝑺𝒐, 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒆, 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑰 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖? ♡
⁠*✧⁠◝ʕᄒ⁠ᴥ⁠ᄒʔฅ~♡ ʕ⁠·⁠ ᴥ ⁠· ✿ʔ。⁠*゚⁠+⁠*⁠. 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏, 𝑺𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔 -𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒕.𝒎𝒊𝒊 𓆏
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠟⢡⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠙⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡏⠀⣸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡆⠈⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡏⠃⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠁⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⣇⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⢠⡇⠹⣆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⡁⠀⣿⠑⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⢩⡇⠀⢹⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣧⡀⣿⣆⠀⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠃⠀⢀⣼⠇⢠⣾⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⠾⡇⠁⠘⣿⡉⠀⠀⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠁⠀⠀⣹⡿⠀⠀⡿⢦⠀ ⠀⡿⠀⢿⣆⠀⠱⣿⡆⠀⠀⠘⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠁⢀⣼⠃⠘⡆ ⠀⣿⡀⢈⢷⡀⠀⠱⡿⣦⣀⡀⢰⡹⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⢣⠀⢀⣠⣾⡿⠁⠀⣠⠏⠀⢰⡇ ⣴⢿⡄⠈⢯⢿⡖⠀⣿⢿⢷⣍⣈⣷⡈⠙⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠞⠋⣰⡟⢀⣹⢿⣿⡇⠐⣺⣯⠇⠀⣸⢧ ⣏⠈⢷⣄⠀⠳⣿⣦⣌⣻⣿⡏⠙⠻⣟⠀⠀⠈⠓⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠖⠋⠁⠀⢸⡿⠛⠉⢿⡿⢋⣠⣾⡿⠋⢀⣴⠏⠈ ⠹⡄⠈⣿⣅⠀⠘⣿⣷⣍⢻⣇⣷⠄⠈⠳⣤⡀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠶⠋⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠋⠀⢠⡇⣾⢋⣤⣿⡿⠁⢀⣽⠋⠀⡴ ⠀⢻⠦⠹⣝⣷⡂⠈⣿⣿⠛⠻⣮⡃⠀⠀⣿⣿⡶⣄⣀⠀⠀⠙⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠞⠁⠀⢀⣀⡴⣾⣽⡿⠀⠀⣾⡿⠛⠻⣿⡟⠀⣲⣿⡽⠡⢾⠃ ⠀⠈⣷⣄⠈⠳⣝⣧⡀⢿⣷⣀⠈⠙⠶⣄⡚⠽⣿⣿⡉⠙⠂⠀⠀⠹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠘⠋⣝⣿⣻⠕⣂⣴⠞⠉⠀⣠⣿⠇⣠⢾⡿⠋⢀⣰⡏⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⠙⢯⣅⠀⢽⡯⣿⢷⣽⣂⠀⠀⣓⡯⣗⣾⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣽⣿⣖⡿⣟⡋⠀⢀⣺⣷⢿⣻⣿⠉⢀⣩⠟⢹⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠙⣿⣇⣉⠻⣿⡋⠉⠓⠶⡤⢭⣽⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠞⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣿⣭⠥⠴⠖⠋⠉⣻⡿⢋⣁⣽⡟⠁⣠⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡂⠈⠓⢯⣷⣿⣿⣾⠤⠀⠩⠭⢽⣿⣦⡴⠀⠀⠀⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡇⠀⠀⠰⣦⣾⣿⠭⠭⠁⢀⣬⣾⣿⣷⣿⠟⠋⠀⣺⡿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢶⣤⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⠶⠶⠶⣒⣿⣿⡶⠀⡀⠀⠈⠙⠲⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⠉⠀⠀⣄⠠⣼⣿⣖⡒⠲⠶⢾⣿⣿⡿⠉⠀⢠⣴⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠓⠒⣼⣟⡁⠀⠀⢀⣀⡭⣟⣿⣾⠁⠀⡀⠀⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⣀⢀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣅⣀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡔⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣃⣴⠞⠋⠁⠈⣛⣽⣿⣶⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠋⠀⢀⢀⢹⣾⣿⣿⢯⡋⠁⠉⠙⢶⣄⣻⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣶⡀⢠⠞⠁⠉⣵⣿⣿⣦⣼⡀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⣸⣾⣾⢿⢷⣍⠀⠙⢦⣀⣰⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠻⢶⡏⠀⠀⡼⠁⢉⡿⠋⡽⠉⠉⠉⠓⠚⠉⠀⠀⠙⠒⠋⠉⠉⠹⡍⠿⣇⠁⠹⡆⠀⣈⢿⠾⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⠭⠿⣧⣖⣼⡧⢦⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⠢⢻⣔⣲⡿⢿⡽⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
˚ ೀ⋆。˚ • ♪✉️
𓍯𓂃
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧In the vast expanse of night's embrace, Moon and Sol, a distant love story takes place. As the world draws near its final breath, They confess their love, facing the brink of death. Moon, with her silver glow and gentle grace, Yearns for Sol's warmth, a distant embrace. She orbits in silence, a celestial dance, Hoping for a chance, a fleeting romance. Sol, radiant and bright, a fiery ball of light, Longs to hold Moon, to kiss her goodnight. He burns with passion, his rays reaching out, But their love is forbidden, clouded in doubt. For they reside in separate realms, worlds apart, Bound by destiny, unable to start. Moon, cold and distant, whispers in the dark, Her love for Sol, an eternal burning spark. Sol, fierce and glowing, shines from afar, His love for Moon, like a distant star. They watch each other, across the vast divide, Yearning for a love they can never hide. In the twilight hour, as the end draws near, Moon and Sol's love becomes crystal clear. They confess their feelings, their hearts laid bare, Knowing their love is destined for despair. As the world crumbles, and darkness falls, Moon and Sol share a love that enthralls. Their story, a tragedy of love unfulfilled, Yet their connection remains, unbreakable and skilled. In the final moments, as chaos consumes, Moon and Sol unite, their love now blooms. For even as the world comes to its end, Their love transcends, forever it will extend. Moon, Sol, an eternal love story, Written in the stars, their legacy of glory. Though their love may never be fully requited, In the depth of the cosmos, their love is ignited. ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.
𓍯𓂃🖋📜✍🏼
╰┈➤ᯓᡣ𐭩જ⁀➴ ♡ 𐙚 ⋆.˚⋆.˚🦋༘⋆
👣🥀🎭
"My love for you is as big as the sky, A love that will rise to the stars high. This love I have for you never stops growing, I promise to love you more each morning."
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆。˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒⁿ ᵃ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵗ ʰᵒˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵖᵉˢᵗʳʸ ᵒᶠ ˢᵗᵃʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˢʰᵉ ᵍˡᵒʷˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐʸ ᶜʳʸˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳʸ ᵐʸ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆。˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★
𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓅𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 - 𝒪𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝒹𝑒.
FE!NFE!NFE!NFE!NFE!N FE!NFE!NFE!NFE!NFE!N FE!N FE!N FE!NFE!NFE!N FE!NFE!NFE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!NFE!NFE!NFE!NFE!N FE!NFE!NFE!NFE!NFE!N FE!N FE!N FE!NFE!NFE!N FE!NFE!NFE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!NFE!NFE!NFE!NFE!N FE!NFE!NFE!NFE!NFE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!NFE!N FE!N FE!NFE!N FE!N FE!NFE!N FE!N FE!M FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!N FE!NFE!N FE!N FE!NFE!N FE!N FE!NFE!N FE!N FE!N

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

🕯️🪶📜
*ੈ✩‧₊˚.ᐟ{📚} . ݁ⱽⁱᵛⁱᵃⁿᵉ!!~{📜} °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
✎ᝰ.๋࣭ ⭑⚝
╰☆☆ "𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓲𝓽 𝓪𝓼 𝓬𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓻𝔂. 𝓘 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓰, 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻. 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓷 𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓰𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝔂. 𝓘𝓷 𝓪 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓾𝓹𝓸𝓷. 𝓘 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝔃𝔂 𝓸𝓻 𝓘 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓭𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓱𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓼. -𝓔𝓵𝓲 𝓔𝓵𝔂𝓲𝓼 ☆☆╮🗝
‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡
.𖥔 ݁ ˖Poet𓇢𓆸✎ᝰ.⚜
🐈‍⬛ ᡣ𐭩 ᰔ ᰔ ᰔ ᰔ ᰔ ᰔ ᰔ ᰔ ʚɞ ʚɞ ♡
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ☊ 📘.𖥔 ݁ ˖🪐.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ཋྀྀ ˖°
*ੈ♡✍️°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
author, cute, books, 📚, ₊˚⊹♡, ✍🏻
✍🏻😔💔💌🎀
⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
🪶📜🥀🎭
ᴹᵒᵒⁿ, ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵉⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ? ˢᵒ, ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵉ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ˢʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ♡ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖🪐˖ ݁𖥔 ☾      
☕👩🏻‍🎨📚🎧₊˚.🎧 ✩。☕ 🤎
゚݁ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚"𝓝𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓫𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭." -𝓔𝓭𝓰𝓪𝓻 𝓐𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓷 𝓟𝓸𝓮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .
"𝐀 𝖼ɦ𝗂ᥣᑯ ω𝗂𝗍ɦ α𐓣 α𐓣𝗂ꭑαᥣ 𝗌ⱺυᥣ" poem by: me (if you want to find me again, look for "Chip !!!" on pinterest ᡣ𐭩) ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴏ ᴅɪᴍ ᴇᴠᴇʀ sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴs ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴇᴇᴛs ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ɴᴏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇss ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴡʜᴏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ sʜᴀʀᴘᴇʀ ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ ᴀ sᴇᴛ ᴏғ ғɪɴs ʏᴇʟʟᴏᴡ sᴋɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴀ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴡɪᴍ ғᴀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ɢɪʟʟs ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ 🦈 ๋࣭ ⭑ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀs ɪ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅs ʙʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ, ᴡᴀʀᴍ ғᴜʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍɪss ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs ᴡʜᴏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴏʏ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀs sᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʀᴇ sᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ʟᴇssᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴜɪʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴏᴍᴇs ᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴏʀᴘsᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ sʜᴀʀᴘᴇʀ ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ғᴜʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀᴡs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴛᴀɪʟ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴜɴ sᴏ ғᴀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜᴍᴘ sᴏ ʜɪɢʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴅs ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ 🐈‍⬛ ๋࣭ ⭑ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇs ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀs ʙᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ sᴏᴜʟ ⃤⃝- ๋࣭ ⭑
🪶.𖥔 ݁ ˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊
𝕺𝖍, 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖚𝖓𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝕴𝖓𝖛𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖈 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊-𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑-𝖔𝖓-𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓.
✍🏻
𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒽ℴ𝓌 𝓉ℴ 𝒷𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝐼 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓉𝓁ℯ🏈✍🏻
🦇🧛‍♂️
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩𝒯𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝓉ℴ 𝓂ℯ 𝒾𝓃 𝓈ℴ𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅ℴℯ𝓂𝓈✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓻𝔂ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
💋1000
💌🌷✨️📜
𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆
In a letter to John Hamilton Reynolds (1818), Keats wrote: “ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 ℑ 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔦𝔭 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔢𝔩 ℜ𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔣𝔢 – ℑ’𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯-𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢-𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔰-𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.” 1819 Keats wrote to his brother, George: “𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔥 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 – 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔓𝔞𝔲𝔩𝔬 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔉𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔞 – ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪 ℑ 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔢𝔫𝔧𝔬𝔶𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 ℑ 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 – ℑ 𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔱𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔟𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔭𝔰 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔧𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔱 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔪’𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔤𝔢 – 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪…” In his last known letter, Keats wrote to his former housemate, Charles Armitage Brown. Dated the 30th of November, 1820, Keats wrote from Rome, where he had gone to convalesce from tuberculosis. His friend and his fiancée awaited him in England, not knowing that he was never to return. “𝔗𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔲𝔩𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔞 𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯. 𝔐𝔶 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔲𝔢𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔟𝔞𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨 – 𝔶𝔢𝔱 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔔𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔞𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔈𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔱, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞 𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔢𝔵𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢.” On Friday the 23rd of February, 1821, John Keats passed away in Rome
🪷𝕬 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐🪷
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naww crazy that theres drama in a website with no way to talk in 💀💀💀💀💀💀
🎥 ⌇ ∞ .’ ✍︎╰┈➤ ¹ ² ³ : @. 𝒩ᴀᴛᴀsʜᴀ’s 𝒲ʀɪᴛɪɴɢ! 📜: ⌇ ‘ ‘ ⌇ 𝒯ʜᴇ ℐɴᴋ ℛᴀɴ Oᴜᴛ!
ꫝꪖ᥅ꪊ⋆🐾°. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃✒️๋࣭ ⭑🕸🦇🕸๋࣭ ⭑⛓🩸
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❝ 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 . . 🪩 ❞ (follow @qngel.bqbyৎ on yt if you use!)⸆⸉⸆⸉⸆⸉ ོ⸆⸉ ོF🪩LKL🪩RE𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
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