Fragment Blog
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Tag: girls
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I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words
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Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew
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In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left
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As I sit here, pen in hand, my thoughts drift to the electric pulse of the club, a place where the world blurs into a haze of lights and rhythm. It’s a space where I find myself searching, chasing something fleeting—a spark, a connection, a moment of lust that feels like it could ignite my
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Dissected Tread I was bored one day and i was amazed by @jid feature on a track called fried rice by @bas and I thought let me write something over @jid flow just for fun. #LATA Treads : Inspired By :
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Dissected Tread Tread One : Inspired By :
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I blaze through the streets, my heart pounding, seeking those I once called my best friends—friends who betrayed me, their masks peeling away to reveal fragments of lust, loafing, guilt, and shame. Their deception trapped me in a “happy illusion,” but now, with wrath born from the abyss of my heart, I confront the wreckage
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I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words
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Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew
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In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left
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As I sit here, pen in hand, my thoughts drift to the electric pulse of the club, a place where the world blurs into a haze of lights and rhythm. It’s a space where I find myself searching, chasing something fleeting—a spark, a connection, a moment of lust that feels like it could ignite my
-
Dissected Tread I was bored one day and i was amazed by @jid feature on a track called fried rice by @bas and I thought let me write something over @jid flow just for fun. #LATA Treads : Inspired By :
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Dissected Tread Tread One : Inspired By :
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I blaze through the streets, my heart pounding, seeking those I once called my best friends—friends who betrayed me, their masks peeling away to reveal fragments of lust, loafing, guilt, and shame. Their deception trapped me in a “happy illusion,” but now, with wrath born from the abyss of my heart, I confront the wreckage
The strangest thing about human desire is its capacity to clothe illusion in the radiance of truth. We behold the caramel glow of skin, the flowing mane of hair, the whispered “Papi” that promises to uproot mountains, and we name it beauty—perhaps even salvation. Yet beneath the sunlit surface lies an upside-down dimension, a realm where warmth is merely the finest mirage cast by hidden vengeance.
The soul, drawn inexorably toward the light, mistakes the heated ray for nourishment, watering a garden long deprived, only to discover that the beams scorch rather than revive. In this dance of attraction and deception, we reveal our deepest fragility: the willingness to trade the integrity of our own essence for the fleeting illusion of connection. Thus, the ultimate strangeness lies not in her manipulative intent, but in our quiet refusal to surrender. To withhold the soul is not mere defense; it is the silent affirmation of an inner equilibrium that no external force—no matter how seductive—can truly displace. In guarding what cannot be twisted, we acknowledge a deeper truth: genuine radiance needs no possession, and true gardens bloom not from borrowed suns, but from the steady light we cultivate within. The strangest, and perhaps most liberating, thing is this unyielding core that observes the illusion, feels its pull, and yet remains unmoved—forever one in a million, not because it is rare, but because it chooses to remain whole.
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I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words
-
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew
-
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left
-
As I sit here, pen in hand, my thoughts drift to the electric pulse of the club, a place where the world blurs into a haze of lights and rhythm. It’s a space where I find myself searching, chasing something fleeting—a spark, a connection, a moment of lust that feels like it could ignite my
-
Dissected Tread I was bored one day and i was amazed by @jid feature on a track called fried rice by @bas and I thought let me write something over @jid flow just for fun. #LATA Treads : Inspired By :
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Dissected Tread Tread One : Inspired By :
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I blaze through the streets, my heart pounding, seeking those I once called my best friends—friends who betrayed me, their masks peeling away to reveal fragments of lust, loafing, guilt, and shame. Their deception trapped me in a “happy illusion,” but now, with wrath born from the abyss of my heart, I confront the wreckage
Fragment Blog
Other Blogs
Inspired By :
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I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words
-
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew
-
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left
-
As I sit here, pen in hand, my thoughts drift to the electric pulse of the club, a place where the world blurs into a haze of lights and rhythm. It’s a space where I find myself searching, chasing something fleeting—a spark, a connection, a moment of lust that feels like it could ignite my
-
Dissected Tread I was bored one day and i was amazed by @jid feature on a track called fried rice by @bas and I thought let me write something over @jid flow just for fun. #LATA Treads : Inspired By :
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Dissected Tread Tread One : Inspired By :
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I blaze through the streets, my heart pounding, seeking those I once called my best friends—friends who betrayed me, their masks peeling away to reveal fragments of lust, loafing, guilt, and shame. Their deception trapped me in a “happy illusion,” but now, with wrath born from the abyss of my heart, I confront the wreckage
Fragment Blog
Other Blogs
Inspired By :
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I woke to a shadow in my room, my own face staring back, twisted with a grin that wasn’t mine. It held my gun, accusing me: “You thought you could embody the essence of wrath’s?” Its words cut deep, naming “friends” I’d killed—lives I’d ended or betrayed in moments I can’t unmake. Jean-Paul Sartre’s words
-
Some moments in life feel like they’ve been woven into the fabric of the universe, perfectly timed and undeniably sacred. I stumbled into one such moment not long ago, when the winding grapevine of life—those serendipitous threads of chance—led me to her. Her name is Halle, and from the instant I met her, I knew
-
In my youth, a seed was planted, cold and unrelenting, deep within my heart. It grew as I did, twisting me into a figure I liken to Michael Myers—a silent, unyielding archetype of destruction. I didn’t fight it; I let it consume me. That seed bloomed into a lascivious hunger, a monstrous drive that’s left
-
As I sit here, pen in hand, my thoughts drift to the electric pulse of the club, a place where the world blurs into a haze of lights and rhythm. It’s a space where I find myself searching, chasing something fleeting—a spark, a connection, a moment of lust that feels like it could ignite my
-
Dissected Tread I was bored one day and i was amazed by @jid feature on a track called fried rice by @bas and I thought let me write something over @jid flow just for fun. #LATA Treads : Inspired By :
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Dissected Tread Tread One : Inspired By :
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I blaze through the streets, my heart pounding, seeking those I once called my best friends—friends who betrayed me, their masks peeling away to reveal fragments of lust, loafing, guilt, and shame. Their deception trapped me in a “happy illusion,” but now, with wrath born from the abyss of my heart, I confront the wreckage
Fragment Blog
Other Blogs
Inspired By :
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LifeandTimelessart 