SoyBooru / Soybooru.com

[miek]

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Circus_2. A man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Circus_2 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. Circus_2 did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Circus_2 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, Circus_2.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

You died?

 

[MoistPepper]

You died?

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Prizins. A man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Prizins 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. Prizins did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Prizins 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, Prizins.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

 

[Flute]

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Literal_who. A man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Literal_who 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. Literal_who did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Literal_who 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, Literal_who.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

 

[miek]

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Prizins. A man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Prizins 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. Prizins did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Prizins 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, Prizins.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

noob

 

[Flute]

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Prizins. A man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Prizins 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. Prizins did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Prizins 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, Prizins.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

aryan

 

[MrObsessed]

==In Loving Memory of Morostein==

We remember today a person many of us knew only through a screen name and a simple image: a soy wojak with a turban. But behind that symbol was a human being with a heart that felt deeply, sometimes painfully so. Known to us as Morostein, he was someone who wore his emotions openly in spaces where vulnerability is often punished. That alone made him rare.

He came to online communities not to dominate conversations or win arguments, but to belong. He searched for meaning, comfort, and connection wherever he could find it. One of the most visible expressions of this was his fixation on moistpepper, the cat-profile user whose presence became, for him, a symbol of warmth, affection, and safety. To outsiders, this may have looked strange or excessive. But to understand Morostein, you have to understand what that attachment represented: hope.

Moistpepper was not just a person or a profile to him. It was an idea-of being seen, of being chosen, of being close to someone who felt kind and real. In a life where love felt distant and stability uncertain, that image of a blushing cat became a small anchor. He talked about it, shared it, joked about it, and clung to it because it made the world feel a little less cold. His obsession was not about possession or entitlement; it was about longing.

He was painfully honest about his struggles. He spoke about loneliness, about feeling behind in life, about fearing that he would never be loved outside of fiction or the internet. These admissions were not cries for attention; they were attempts to survive by telling the truth. In saying what hurt, he gave others language for their own pain. Even when his words were hard to read, they came from a place of wanting relief, not harm.

Morostein was earnest in a culture that rewards detachment. He cared loudly, sometimes clumsily, and without irony. He latched onto mascots, memes, and people not because he was unserious, but because he was serious about feeling something-anything-that made life bearable. That sincerity is easy to misunderstand, but it is also easy to lose, and harder still to replace.

It is tempting, after loss, to focus only on what went wrong. But his life was more than its ending. It was made of moments of excitement, humor, fixation, hope, and reaching out. He showed up. He posted. He tried. That effort mattered.

If we honor him at all, let it be by remembering that behind every avatar is a fragile person, capable of deep attachment and deep pain. Let us be gentler with those who care too much, speak too openly, or love in ways that seem odd. Morostein did not fail by feeling deeply. He was a human.

Rest in peace, Morostein. Your longing was real. Your presence mattered. You will not be forgotten.

 

[Flute]

>copypastas in 2026

 

[CX2]

holy shit

 

[Apeson]

holy shit

I do this.

 

[[ಒಂಬತ್ತು]]

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Circus_2. A man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Circus_2 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. Circus_2 did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Circus_2 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, Circus_2.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

something something plapping indian attentionwhore uttp officer with transgender flag and noose

 

[Flute]

something something plapping indian attentionwhore uttp officer with transgender flag and noose

Circus_2 is musdummy samecacaing you dummys

 

[Apeson]

Circus_2 is musdummy samecacaing you dummys

i don't believe musdummy has played a character for this long. It's a real person.

 

[Sloppyjakky]

Literal_who is Literal_who samecacaing you dummys

 

[FartmingerFuckwadCheesest]

 

[jim🅱️o_fans_arent_white]

Can everyone who dislikes me (emerald) @ me in this thread
hate emerald and have a 'ru account? ping his name here

 

[Apeson]

View attachment 108617

I don't like the implications of the bottom left one being uploaded with the others.

 

[Sloppyjakky]

View attachment 108617

jus rename the site to jartybooru 2 atp

 

[jim🅱️o_fans_arent_white]

I don't like the implications of the bottom left one being uploaded with the others.

i hate the fact that i had to approve all of them else i'd get demoted, hope the higher-ups can go back to their senses again and ban these kinds of posts

 

[CX2]

>musdummy left the sharty to become circusGOD

 

[MenstrualCykill]

>my name is dunchenman and i love to fap to soytan