SoyBooru
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- 01/09/26 -
English is the official language of this site. You will not use any other languages. - 01/07/26 - NSFW AND META:PORNOGRAPHIC_CONTENT ARE SEPERATE TAGS THAT CAN BE USED TOGETHER BUT CAN BE TWO DIFFERENT THINGS
- 12/31/25 - Happy 2016!
- 12/31/25 - Uploads now have image previews.
@emerald: the special is speaking
@beefsoup: you took a raisin and dumped a box worth of cereal into it and then called it "beefsoup"
BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
why did you brap?
then you digested that raisin right after
@emerald: took a selfie of xerself award
@epx7fclhdrp: delusions
@beefsoup: nobody wants to eat your cacasoup
and its straight vomit
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
We gather with heavy hearts to remember emerald-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and wide in frame, he resided in a modest cardboard box, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of South Sudanese descent, emerald cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. emerald did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, emerald died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, emerald.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
https://youtu.be/m9Ifa9T7XQM?si=q4Xscaqdpq24QKzW