Nothing I wrote had anything to do with ponies whatever. Therefore, why would some random bystanders who somehow found my silly writings by chance want me to submit them for approval knowing there is no way it’ll happen?
Alexandra finds a what looks like an old diary and begins flipping through it. Along with William, Monica, and Val went to an empty city though a sparsely populated country. Following train routes for maximum probability of encounters, they found themselves in Philly.
The whole wide world has been a mess. Speed on back to work in soul crushing environments when working at home has never been more practical than it is right now, especially for white collar. So much illness could be avoided by simply not going anywhere, as could pollution. The last two years have been an eye opener, yet I fear nothing will have been learned by the masses when it is all over, and
I really ought to break this unnerving habit of commenting. It never does anything useful unless annoying people is somehow useful. And I think I have made it abundantly clear I have no imagination whatever never mind creativity. Perhaps more importantly, resisting the urge to make more comments when my absence is appreciated and adds nothing, and trying Not to break this streak is
5737096 Yeah, for a time I was fed up with this site, but occasionally peeked in once every six months or so.. I just like those who give a damn, providing there are any- to know I have not passed.
But..... You don't even write fanfics! Anyways welcome back!
5737096
Yeah, for a time I was fed up with this site, but occasionally peeked in once every six months or so..
I just like those who give a damn, providing there are any- to know I have not passed.