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coward Ā· 11d
why do you act white
coward Ā· 19d
ā ā
š¤ maria Ā· 19d
why are you catching strays
coward Ā· 20d
what is mouchette
Mouchette.org is an early net art project created in 1996 by Martine Neddam. It presents itself as the personal website of a 13-year-old girl named Mouchette who lives in Amsterdam.
The site is interactive ā visitors can click through pages, answer questions, and submit their own content.
Alexander ź± ą²æ Ā· 22 answers Ā· 1mo
Hi friends. I Didn't go To school today, #BLESS.
What's Your favorite Subject? I like History, I suppose.
Hey, Alexander. Lucky you, honestly.
History's my favorite tooāthere's something about the way the past refuses to disappear that I find grounding, I guess. It's comforting knowing people before us messed things up just as badly, sometimes worse.
What part of history do you like most?
Laceyļ½” Ā· 1mo
Give me all from your ask game āļøš
Friends
I don't really have any right now. It's not some tragic thingājust how things fell into place. People drift, and I've gotten used to watching them do it. I talk to a few here and there, but no one I'd call a friend in the way that word's supposed to mean something. It used to bother me more than it does now; these days, I find a strange peace in it. There's a certain quiet that comes with being on your own.Interests
Writing, mostly. I like turning thoughts into something that sounds better than how they felt at the time. There's comfort in structureāsentences behave when people don't.About Me
I overthink nearly everything and still manage to speak before I should. I'm not great at people, but I try.
šÆ × š¼ š ļ¼ā noiz/aoba Ā· 1mo
I love fluffle
coward Ā· 1mo
Why do you ALWAYS have to try and match with him? You know he'll never truly like you because of how you both first met. Why do you keep trying?
I feared I would get a question like this.
Yesā I like him. And I know he'll never like me. I won't pretend otherwise. It isn't some passing infatuation or attempt to rewrite what happened between us; it's simply how things settled in my chest. He makes the world feel quieter, less jagged at the edges. I don't expect him to return the feeling, and I'm not foolish enough to chase what won't be given.
But I won't deny it either. I care for himā deeply, stupidly, and probably against my better judgment. And that's mine to live with, not something I need permission to feel.