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Non-FictionalCategory: (general)
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
04:00:32 AM (GMT)
Everyone here is non-fiction. Real people (children) attempting to establish
Discover their likes, dislikes.
Meet new people.
Experience new bigotry.
And bare witness to lots of sexual themes.

I've had this account for roughly, four years? I came here because my next door
neighbor decided to cordially extend an invitation to whatever this place is.
Never have I really engaged with anyone from here, like he has, and never have I
actually succumbed to the urge of just deleting this account and departing for good.
I'm not that person, unfortunately. I sometimes remember the web address, and decide
to have a check in with the people I did get into maybe one or two conversations
Just to see if they decided to hang around, or have moved on in their lives.
Considering the time of this profiles conception, I was about to turn fourteen. I'm
now Sixteen, going on Seventeen.
I've matured (or so I like to think) significantly. I've come to understand more, and
(try to) respect everyone's own views. Even the ones shared on this sight. True
story, several people's profiles
have made me contemplate throwing a brick through my window. Other's have peaked an
interest, and drawn me into sending them a message or Q&A, and often they respond, we
share a short conversation and they become someone on my checklist of people to
stalk/checkup on whenever Kupika looses its magnetism with me.

An example of my stalker-esque themes. Vampire Apple, an abomination of this website
(I mean that in the nicest way) has been someone I've checked up on often, mainly
because he's a decent artist, and all the people who flood his Q&A and 'hack' his
profile tickle my fancy. There was also another, I cannot remember her respectable
title but all I knew was her login, notasecretwhoreanymore. She used Kupika as a
resource for attention, and gained it through creating a private gallery for her
tit-pics. I, being the malicious and amused young-adult obliged to subscribing and
complimented her for not shying out, not caring what the other children who commented
on these tit-pics said. Tossing out their compliments, and only pursued the task of
sharing her womanly features with an audience of thirsty, lustful teens.

I get a lot of this is rather redundant, and for that I'm sorry. Many will have to
come to terms with the fact that, when you get to my age, little changes. The cycle
only repeats, and redundancy is what powers this purpose-less life. I'm not sad, I'm
not angry, I'm not negative. I'm placid. At peace.

Once upon a time, I explored the belief's of Buddhism, Hinduism, and other similar
inner-lying religions. I kept up with the Dalai Lama, and his many visits to other
countries. I stayed up to date with how Tibet and her refugee's were holding up. Then
I took a glance at the Middle-East, at America, and at History. I became educated,
and I learned many a thing about Man. We like to love, and we ease into hate.

A lot of these realizations are not easily replicated into words, they are hard to
communicate as they are but feeling. A part of the ebb and flow of the adolescent
mind, almost bi-polar in response.
I'm uncertain as to what my small wall of text will influence. It's likely it'll go
unread, ignored, left to gather dust as one of the small rings on a hard-drive
compacting everyone else's squanders, but I'm certain, if I keep this account, and
take a look at it on my Eighteenth birthday, when I become a true adult. A lot of it
will remind me.

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