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Many legends have been told of frightening black Aso that hunt deserted roads, gloomy castles, even town houses. But the black dog of Hanging Hills is gentle and friendly, a splendid companion with whom to spend an afternoon-and is deadlier than all the rest. If you ever meet him, you'll know him sa pamamagitan ng two peculiar features: One, he leaves no footprints. Two, he seems to bark occasionally, but never makes a sound. When you see him the first time, he brings you joy. He follows you wherever you go, wags his tail, waits for you if you stop along the way. The segundo time you meet him is a time of sorrow for you. But, if you see him twice, don't go back to Hanging Hills. Because the third time you see the black dog, you die. W.H.C. Pynchon told part of the story almost a century ago. A geologist, he was visiting Meriden, Conneticut, because he wanted to see unusual rock formations he herd about. When he first saw the black dog, it was standing on a high boulder and looking down at him, wagging its tail. When Pynchon continued on his way, the dog ran alongside. When the geologist stopped at an inn for lunch, the dog waited outside for him. They spent the afternoon together, and it wasn't until dusk that the dog took off into the woods. Pynchon didn't go back to Hanging Hills for a number of years. When he did it was February. He went with another geologist, who knew the area fairly well. In fact, his friend had told Pynchon that he had seen the peculiar little dog twice before on his visits. The susunod day, the two men began climbing the mountain called West Peak. They chose to squeeze through a gap between two cliffs. It was a particularly dark puwang that turned out to be rather icy. As they neared the tuktok of the mountain, they looked up and saw the black dog high on the rocks, wagging its tail and barking-without making a sound. Delighted to see him, they continued their ascent, looking pasulong to greeting the dog when they got to the top. Then, unbelievably, Pynchon's friend Nawawala his footing on the ice, and before Pynchon could come to his rescue, smashed down the cliff, crashing violently against the rocks below. It was the third time Pynchon's friend had seen the dog. And the segundo time for Pynchon, who had experienced great sorrow at the loss of his friend. Later, Pynchon was told the story of the black dog sa pamamagitan ng local people, and wrote about his experienced after that. In view of this knowledge, it is difficult to understand why he went back to West Peak to retrace the steps he had taken with his friend. But perhaps you've already figured out what happened. Pynchon's broken body was found approximately the same spot that his friend's body had been found a couple of years before. Did he see the black dog? We'll never know for sure. But others have since reported seeing the dog. Pynchon was not the last climber to die on West Peak. The most kamakailan victim died there in 1972 on Thanksgiving Day. How many times do you think the climber had been there before?
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posted by ITF
(written sa pamamagitan ng ITF - also known as TheShadowWarrior - in memory of all the little goldfish in the world)


Here I swim, round and round
Same old thing, round and round
From morning's dawn to evening's light
I swim in circles araw and night
My keeper's coming. Something new?
No, it's not. Just the same tasteless food.
Friends all gone and my water's stale,
I wanted a paradise, instead I got a jail.
What did I do? What have I done?
This bowl on the counter top, it ain't no fun.

Here I stay, round and round
In constant misery, round and round
People came to take a look
Like I was just a picture from...
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added by JayWiz45
added by tanyya
posted by misscrazel
Hi! This is Abi aka Panda Sixx. I pag-ibig art, from poetry, to drawing, from lyric writing, to dance, and many others. I wanted to share some of my art. I think art is a great way to express yourself, especially when you have a disorder like mine. I have been diagnosed with selective mutism (unable to speak to strangers and awkward) and probably have dyspraxia (clumsy and late with milestones.) I like art because I can express myself without talking. I'm comfortable singing, music is my true passion. I've always believed I was put on this earth to share my music and change the world with it. I've...
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added by awsomegtax
Source: awsomegtax
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added by a11-swift
added by to0ota111
added by Daman2735
Source: Me and no one else.
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