File: 1416729482725.jpg (133.11 KB, 420x315, 1369737596902.jpg)
No.21809
used to but im the guy that flipped up a windows installation without backup and lost everything including this pic
you can still open the one from this thread but its a bit small
https://warosu.org/jp/thread/S12768292 No.22045
>>22040nah youre just being a baby im not that bad and its been over two years since i had mod powers anyway complaining about it now is like living on a mountain for generations and then acting hysterical when someone says its actually a dormant volcano
i didnt reveal it myself though onseki decided to openly start discussing it i guess he figured itd be obvious since i ended up having to download almost 100gb of blogs to get everything back up
No.22440
>>22435I truly wish you the best of luck, but get out of this suggestive child OP first off.
There is no more pussyfooting…..
My prayers are with you.
No.22915
>>22912do you really think i care if i get called a norm or whatever
if youre that worried youd think you would simply not be mean
i would voluntarily step down if the babies would be ok with only taking sekis word for it because i cant think of a way to prove it
No.23960
>>23951Go out.
I've been there, you need this. Go to events, talk to strangers, get curious.
Live.
No.24087
On the white road far below, a huge lorry moves away like a galleon leaving
port. A solitary peasant, in the middle of his field, guides a plough pulled by a dappled horse.
Bird-song rings out: chirps, roulades, raucous cries. The great trees tremble. Nature is there
and it beckons you lovingly. You chew on blades of grass that you quickly spit out: you are
not really inspired by the landscape, or moved by the tranquillity of the fields, you are neither
irritated nor soothed by the silence of the countryside. You are only occasionally fascinated
by an insect, a stone, a fallen leaf, a tree: sometimes you spend hours contemplating a tree,
describing it, dissecting it: the roots, the trunk, the branches, the leaves, every leaf, every rib
of every leaf, every branch again, and the unending play of the indifferent shapes that your
eager gaze solicits or conjures up: a face, a town, a maze or a path, coats of arms and
cavalcades. As your perception gets sharper, more patient and more versatile, the tree
shatters and then reforms, a thousand shades of green, a thousand leaves, identical and yet
all different. You think that you could spend your whole life in front of a tree, never
exhausting it and never understanding it, because there is nothing for you to understand, just
something to look at: when all is said and done, all you can say about this tree is that it is a
tree; all this tree can say to you is that it is a tree, a root, then a trunk, then branches, then
leaves. You can't expect to extract any other truth from it. The tree has no moral to offer you,
no message to impart.