Most Forgiven Posts
Here is a selection of the Most Forgiven posts.
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Walking to pick my wife up from work…I blew out my knee crossing a street, slid on the ice and now can barely walk. I had to limp and drag my foot leg back home. I’m playing it off that I fell asleep and wearing track pants right now. I’m in Canada on a visitor visa and have no insurance nor do I have a car to go back to America. The discoloration indicates I might need surgery. But my wife is 8 months pregnant and I can’t leave her. Let’s hope it sort of heals tomorrow. Her happiness, needs,
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I just want to die but I’m too weak to actually off myself. My life is just full of disapointment and no one likes me anyways. I’m so fucking awkward and can’t make friends and the friends I do have think I’m capable of horrable things. I fucking can’t even spell. I have no purpose. I can’t take it anymore my father doesn’t even love me he only comes to see me because he wants to get back with my mom. I try and talk to people and they block me out of their lives forever. I’m annoying I’m ugly,
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After I found out you and my fiance fucked while I was out of town I calmly confronted you and you filed a restraining order against me. I hope you have a miserable pathetic life, that’s more than you deserve.
Today one of my “friends” was complaining how her life was boring. How every morning she got up at the same time, walked to school and did the same thing everyday. How her friends did nothing interesting and how she never looks forward to something. I wanted to tell her but I couldn’t find myself too, “I would rather have a boring life. I would rather not dread when ever the phone rings or whenever my mom gets a text from her brothers. I’m scared that one day my oldest uncle is going to finally
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I come onto this ranting site, wanting to rant out all my trouble and confessions. but with each paragraph I write, i end up deleting. I wanna say everything that is in my mind. things that hurts me and pisses me off. but its just too much to write. the words sound so much better in my head compared to when i write it down. i wish there was a way to transfer my thoughts onto the screen right here. lets just say, i feel betrayed, hurt, sad, disgusted, pissed off, annoyed and irritated of my life
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I despise men’s clothes especially pants and T-shirts. There are some male short- Short pants for running/jogging of course. But they are not my stuff because they expose hideous leg muscles and hairs. I think no country but Myanmar sells skirts for men ;/ Sadly men must wear very long pants or short pants with very awkward length because of their bulged “limbs”, hideous leg muscles and hairs. And that bulged “limbs” make exposure of every underwear very hideous. In other words being a dude
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I’ve always been skeptical over true love. I for one know that there are boys, there are men, and there are gentlemen. I’ve always wanted to be the prince charming for my girlfriend but yet, I feel crushed that I don’t get that back.
Everyday, I think about her, honestly I’m extremely in love with my girlfriend. During movies, dates, sightseeing, walks, my attention is mostly on her. I’ve always acknowledged her when she’s with her friends or when i’m with my friends. Not once have I told her
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It’s always circle jerk time for Chucah the Clown! It loves to sit around in the past, crying over how jealous it is that it hasn’t ever done anything interesting or original in it’s life, weeping for it’s own irrelevance. Just a man child and his puppet, jerking each other’s wieners because it’s too sad to talk to a human. Pot portly Chucah. One day you might become human, but first you must open your eyes and allow yourself up feel in the moment.
You are not Mexican. You are not Cajun. You are definitely not Indian. You are not anything but FAT. Being fat does not make you a part of any interesting ethnic group. If you think Cinco de Mayo is called Sincko del Myo or that Dia de Los Muertos is called Dias de la Muertes, you do not get to call yourself Mexican. As a Mexican, I’m appealed that you’d consider yourself one of us.
look, i know we all work in an office and we all call people all day but if you think i am talking too loudly just tell me to my face. i know you all don’t like me, i know you never invite me to lunch with everyone else, i know that you guys talk about me, just tell me what you don’t like and i can fix it. either that or i will respect you more than when you complain to my supervisor. i do my job, i try to be friendly, but i know i don’t fit in here. i am here to work, not please any of you.
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Had the worst breakup of my life a few weeks ago. Not because we said mean/harsh things to each other, it was actually pretty calm when he broke up with me and wasn’t offensive but him leaving me really is breaking my heart. He thought that we’re too far from each other but to me he was totally worth it but i guess he needed more. I see him in everything everywhere i go. I miss him so much and i just always have this hole in my heart and empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I keep telling
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there is a gay guy in my theater group who loves to spead lies about everyone. He is universally HATED by everyone but they are so afraid of him zeroing his venom on them that they kiss his ugly ass. He thinks he is mr. Fashionista too and has a ego too. fact is, he is a dumnass who will never amount to anything and his theater degree is bwcause he is too stupid to do anything else. He will get his when he is unemployed and those he tried to screw over pass him by. He is justva big dick.
UGHHH WHY IS EVERYTHING SO ANNOYING, NOTHING IS GOING MY WAY THESE DAYS.
You don’t have to call me atleast once every 30 minutes… just to show some cute thing our son does. Definitely not when I need to work.
If I post a status or a photo before you in facebook, learn to appreciate it and enjoy it together. Just because we have many friends and relatives in common doesn’t make me a hero for posting it and you a stupid for not. Stop making it the no.1 issue in the world and above all stop harassing me for it.
If anything. stop your stupid phone chats and make lunch
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went and passed out in my room. In my bed. Disgusting. I’d rather gnaw off my own hand than sleep in his filthy shit; maybe that’s why he helped himself to mine, because his is so nauseating. he’ll apologize in the morning, and maybe even cry, and then nothing will change. He won’t even change his sheets. He’s proud of his drunkenness and strives to be more so every day. He saves all his cardboard cases in the kitchen in a big pile that I have to shove out of the way to go out and do laundry.
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