Mors certa, hora incerta

May she live and flourish with her lovers, Embracing three hundred simultaneously, Loving none of them truly, but time and again, Breaking the groins of all of them.

cum suis vivat valeatque moechis, quos simul complexa tenet trecentos, nullum amans vere, sed identidem omnium ilia rumpens.

- Catullus

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YOU DON'T LIKE YOURSELF.
BUT YOU DO ADMIRE YOURSELF.
IT'S ALL YOU'VE GOT,
SO YOU CLING TO IT.


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