hueningkachu

sorry hayah

hueningkachu

anyways im logging out now bye
Reply

hueningkachu

we r so different personality wise i just scrolled down u r such an amateur love
Reply

hueningkachu

now when u reply to me it will look like u r talking to urself lmaoo u will look like a loser than baby
Reply

hueningkachu

sorry hayah

hueningkachu

anyways im logging out now bye
Reply

hueningkachu

we r so different personality wise i just scrolled down u r such an amateur love
Reply

hueningkachu

now when u reply to me it will look like u r talking to urself lmaoo u will look like a loser than baby
Reply

-pasteljin-

as the days, years, go by....you may find that your purpose becomes more complicated. what am i supposed to do? who am i supposed to be? is this the right path for me? so many questions will fill your mind, but the truth is that you may never have these answers. but that's okay. those questions are enough without any answer. create answers by listening to your intuition, trust it and make moves based on it. Life Isn't Easy, but the greatest thing you can do is trust and believe in yourself.
          
          https://pin.it/7qDgRpU

adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness (07th January 2022) 
          
          troubled by the chaos of the earth, weighed upon by the barren roof, struck by the canines of responsibilities, drenched in the ocean's cold. the warm clouds hiss at the burn from the morning rays, the nightingales dedicate a melody to the rustic waves. each day a older sun rises to a newer morning, and a weaker breath from the body. 
          
          armoured kites, papered hearts, monochrome schemes, lustred bones. pleasure of the pain, burden of what is gained; bruises of the moon and its light upon our veins, behemoth skies and its anger upon the land of sinners. rosed dishes, savoury bites, the wound of tomorrow a sacrifice for the smile of today. 
          
          missed are the terraces of the burnt lips, every dream of the passed breaths. what pricks the throat but the warm sip of the coffee that reignites the vessel of sorrows, like the tentacles of an octopus, the arrows struck. timeless breeze, the wash of the early morning a moon written lullaby; decorated sins, the pleas of the saviours etched upon tender greens. 
          
          powerful is the world, glorious is its stage. a mother it is; careful with its touch, destructive with its womb. one arises to the death of another, the loom of yesterday a gust of today; yarn tangled with the hems of life, in every lung a million lines. one is terrified of the other of its kind, but the moon has never felt threatened by the sun's strength. 
           #adropofhumanity