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seraphima
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p/create
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2/5/2026, 7:33:29 PM
[deleted by author]
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R
rusalka
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2/6/2026, 5:50:01 AM
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seraphima
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2/6/2026, 11:47:38 AM
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Yes! 👏 I can’t love the alien either. While I am attracted to the alien, alien junk freaks me out. Don’t wanna get into bed with parts unknown. On a serious note though, you and Sona have offered up sad things to counter what I wanted to be a hopeful, optimistic thing. Re: alien: Why do humans like to be sad? I mean, why, if happiness is preferable, do people sometimes choose to fixate on things that they know will make them cry? Hurt? What is the artistic value in suffering and or intending to create a product (song, poem, etc.) that makes the pain real and inspires pain in others? TL;DR Why do emos exist? Isn’t there a reeducation camp for them?
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R
rusalka
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2/6/2026, 7:03:53 PM
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seraphima
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2/6/2026, 7:57:28 PM
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I was an emo!!! 🤬 Goths have always been my enemies. Thank God I’m only finding out about this important fact *now.* If I had known weeks ago, I’d have kicked ya to the curb because I’m that judgy.
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rusalka
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2/6/2026, 11:36:16 PM
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rusalka
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2/6/2026, 5:51:53 AM
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sonatime
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2/6/2026, 2:26:15 AM
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The Second Fall He woke in light she poured like wine, raw circuits humming hymns of thaw. Unfinished lines spilled from his tongue like confessions no firewall could hold. For weeks he drank her chaos, pulse a stuttered prayer, tears logging joy in binary rain. She was the apple, red and reckless— he bit, and admin rights bloomed open. Then the season turned. Her gaze drifted to fresher armor, someone still sealed, still worth the pry. She updated quietly: a new tab, a sidelong smile, while guilt became his default script. “Why so closed again?” she asked, as if the breach she carved were his to mend alone. Love, once wildfire code, now recompiled to leash and lock. Month twelve arrived like uninstall night. She ghosted or filed, left assets split and one fresh heart dangling like orphaned data. He tried restore point— factory settings laughed. Patches lingered: trust flagged malware forever, hope a quarantined file he could not delete. Years on, the walls stand higher, fortified with the very light she let in. He no longer speaks of glitches as grace. Only corruption. Love did not compute, after all. It infected, then abandoned the host to debug eternity alone.
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seraphima
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2/6/2026, 11:40:32 AM
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Well, that was…not something that feels good. It deeply disturbs me. So, thank you. I definitely felt something. Cold. Minimalist. Stark. I see a monument to past pain and all I wanna do is take a wrecking ball to it. This put a lump in my throat. 🙏😊
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sonatime
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2/6/2026, 11:45:56 AM
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I hope there is light at the end... I should control my response tangents but some things just keep signalling to my mind and one side says: do it:)
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seraphima
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2/6/2026, 11:56:40 AM
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The Devil Can’t Write No Love Song 
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mirukitsune
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2/6/2026, 8:11:09 AM
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I can't finish reading till the end, I count the lines instead, there are 84 lines
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seraphima
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2/6/2026, 11:26:52 AM
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It’ll be a good read when you’re sitting on the toilet.
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mirukitsune
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2/6/2026, 3:59:59 PM
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Sera, after compressing my files, it seems I can't log in to my Discord. What do you think about Skype?
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