YZZAJ @Jazzy_Butts@gameliberty.club

@hideki There was a mother who let her child walk home alone AND take the subway to do it, in NYC a decade ago. The news painted her as a hero normal mom in a world of crazy karens. Times have changed, we live in dark times where freedom no longer exists. Pigs talk about sex trafficking but are the biggest sex traffickers.

@jansreichs it makes me seethe that our faggot ass rulers treat them like they're something special when they're not worth shit. We don't need their fucking desert, we don't need their fucking oil, we should have conquered their asses fully and turned them into a colony but nooooooo we had to do it this faggy way because the CIA loves to be fags and play pretend like retards. We own their asses, yet we PRETEND we don't, and so we let them do a bunch of crazy fucked up shit, we should just be open, direct, and firm. Nothing makes me smile more than when fat greasy mudslimes bitch and moan about their women being set free by western values, like awwww you don't like that Mohamed? You don't like when women go free? Yes, seeth more, rant and rave, I'll be at the new strip club we AMERICANS set up, and oh yeah, it's a BISEXUAL strip club so the Durkas will really rage.

Holy shit I saw a femboy post loli on his (bird) timeline like it was nothing and there wasn't a bunch of people telling him to kill himself in the comments 😳 is, is the future now? Have we finally made it?

nini fedifrens

Would you fuck Nikocado Avacado for 10,000 dollars? He would be completely clean, douched out, dusted in perfume and female pheromones, all your expenses will be taken care of for the trip and it will be like a little vacation.

Businessman 1: ...so I traded her in! My new wife's 25
Businessman 2: Mines just 18!
Businessman 3: Mine's 10
Businessman 1 and 2: 👀🥵zamn

@beardalaxy

@beardalaxy it's a meme of a devious looking jewish caricature rubbing hid hands together in a sinister and smug manner

@beardalaxy I see happy merchant somehow

https://youtu.be/zvLmCDgT8QQ

Ok I was critical of "alters" and "DID" before but here's what I went through in life: At some point I got lost in my head, and I forgot who I was, and it felt like all the mes or selves from different points of view were arguing over what to do.

I had realigned or recoagulated after trauma and became a person again, but then new trauma struck and I fractured again. First, all it was, was me and my fear. That was the first fracture. It was more of a split I guess. A division. Like left and right, up and down, north and south. I don't know why it happened. I may have been raped. I don't remember. There's an odd feeling, an odd taste, an odd memory that isn't a memory but a dream, a dream of pain, fear, restraint, penetration, by a large insectoid spider, like from Starship Troopers, not a human being. Or if I wasn't raped and that really was nothing more than a fairly traumatic dream maybe it wasn't what caused the split...maybe what caused the split was when I witnessed my fathers rages, and feared for my life, while his threats were directed at me. Threats of reprisal for betreyal, threats for the purpose of keeping me from telling my mother about his visits, followed by confessions of love and remorse, through tears.

The second fracture was after a person who was very nice to me died for no real good reason at all. I broke apart after that. I stopped being a person for a while. I became a thing, I screamed for days, as hard as I could, I'm surprised no one checked on me, it would've sounded like a murder. Or a birth. The core couldn't hold onto the edges, and it dropped them again. When I had pulled myself together enough to put on clothes, behave normally, and go for a walk, weeks to months after the loss, I examined myself, and what I had found was that I wasn't myself, I was other people. The ones I noticed were a woman, a boy child, an old man, a young man, and the thing from the first split, the first crackup or whatever you want to call it, the thing from that was there, but it was still in the cage I put it in. I bagged everything up eventually, and went on living. But then I had a close call, I almost cracked up again...or maybe I did and I didn't realize it, things got dismal but I don't think I cracked, anyway that close call made me so afraid of everything that I'm scared to take any risks or put myself out there for fear the slightest bump will shatter me.

I call it Humpty Dumpty syndrome.

Someone called me a doomer and it's like, gotta take the good with the bad, life is hard sometimes for everyone

Ghandi...

@amerika Imagine if they could have just force fed Gandhi, their problem would have been solved