#every direction you look theres a block in the path

[12112122angel]

crying during succession again

[zenrayne]

Learn presence for negative thoughts and emotions

This can be applied to any feeling. I’ve tried this with my anxiety, depression, dpdr (depersonalization/derealization), CPTSD, PTSD, anxiety attacks.

there’s always a reason as to why you feel the way you feel. Some event in your life made you where you would be seen by someone else as being “irrational” if something remotely related to that initial stressful event would happen again. So technically our body isn’t being irrational, but trying to protect us. Even though we understand at that irrational moment nothing is actually happening that should be making us be feeling this way—even if it’s ridiculous and isn’t connected to any type of event prior—it is still happening. The fact our body is reacting to it and is feeling overwhelmed we shouldn’t feel that we are being irrational but be gentle with ourselves like a parent soothes their child.

I’ve started validating how I was feeling and accepting that something triggered me even if I don’t know what it was and/or just an over exaggeration. Because If you tell yourself “I’m overreacting I’m just being irrational why can’t I just be calm like everyone else”, this completely gaslights yourself (denies your own reality). In essence our body freaks out more because instinctually this does feel like a reason to be anxious to our body. When I validate I accept that this is happening even if I think it’s wrong and I shouldn’t be feeling this. I validate and accept that this is how I’m feeling even if it’s from something small.

Then I dive into the feeling. This part feels very impossible to do if you’ve never done it before but trust me the fear of facing/feeling fully the fear is greater than actually feeling it. Over time the more we deny our feelings and thoughts, we become more and more disconnected with ourself. It becomes hard to enjoy life fully and numbs out a part of us we actually really need to pay attention to. Our negative emotion is a direct path to finding how to make us feel better. It’s like a symptom from a cold, you have to first accept that you have symptoms of an illness to then be able to diagnose and then treat that sickness. You have to first accept you are having this emotion to be able to find the root of the problem and to then come up with a plan to “fix” the problem.

When I first validated and dived into my anxiety I very quickly felt calmer. It was the first time I was ever actually present with myself and I’ve been having panic attacks since I was almost 5 from abuse. It took me awhile though so what I’m saying here is it isn’t easy at all. In fact if you believe you can’t do this by yourself do this with a therapist or a family member or friend that understands you and what you’re going through. When I first did it I had been crying and hyperventilating for over an hour then suddenly I remembered something I read about being present with yourself through hard moments. Then I just decided to try it, because what the hell I already am losing my shit why not try something different for once. So I validated myself and made myself open to feel whatever it was that felt like it was going to burst in my chest. I closed my eyes and I heard silence, my rushing thoughts had stopped, the room had stopped spinning, and I felt better.

Not every time does this happen. One time I did this and instead of feeling relief I actually felt the pain inside of me first. It was so painful! I have no idea how else to describe it but it was so much grief it felt like the pain of losing your soulmate and your family type of grief. When I opened myself up I allowed however much time I needed. So I felt this pain for 40+ minutes; just ugly sobbing on the floor in my kitchen. I was trying my best to let me handle this situation naturally without forcing myself to do anything or to feel anything. I just wanted to let my emotions flow through and out of me. At one point I naturally felt the urge to accept whatever upset me. I accepted that it happened and I decided to use the rain to grow and not to be drowned anymore by it. So .. I hugged myself. I hugged myself and kept saying “it’s okay. There is a reason why I’m feeling this and it’s okay. I’m here now with you (myself) I’m here. I’m not leaving this time.” I said this to myself 7x before I calmed down. A few times after this event I did the same method again but I didn’t have to cry so much to feel better. But another time after I had cried a bit more. Based on how big the situation is impacting you depends on how long you need to sit with yourself to do this process. I’m sure in my future I will have to sit with myself for days, months probably years before I can accept and let go so I can form a plan to move forward. And this is completely fine if you feel this is you.

So I learned that telling yourself you shouldn’t feel the way you feel, and think the way you think is the biggest form of self betrayal you could ever do. So with the example of anxiety: when I read a ton of times people saying facing your fears will help you overcome it I would get pissed off because obviously in my mind they didn’t understand anxiety especially anxiety disorders. What I learned though is that phrase can be looked at another way: it’s not always literally facing your fear physically, but facing the fear mentally.

For people with anxiety disorders it can take a couple to a whole bunch of times to get past that one fear. Which is why exposure therapy works so well for anxiety disorders: it’s the only time you ever have to purposely try to be in that moment with the fear, to be with yourself in that moment. Where overtime the fear gets less and less. Our body isn’t scared of the actual fear most of the time, it’s usually scared of what we think will be the outcome of that fear based on an experience or hearing something bad happening to someone else. It’s all in the mind and that’s the first place you should learn to be present with when all you want to do is run or disappear from whatever’s causing the anxiety. What’s the first thing a regular parent does when seeing their child upset? They sit with them. Then they tell them it’s okay to feel the way they do: giving them permission to feel. And then they give advice to move forward. This process should be done with every relationship we have with others and ourself.

All of this can be applied to any emotion good or bad. I say good because some people find it hard to accept happiness. The first step is to validate your feelings! Accept that this is happening and it was caused by something big or small or nothing at all and that’s fine. Working towards moving on would to be to be more open to future happiness.

You can take this model of validating, accepting, letting go/moving forward, and transform your entire life. being present with your own thoughts, feelings, emotions has to be done first and only then can you work forward to heal, grow, or let go.

My advice is to do this when you’re in a crisis and can’t reach any help. Do this when you have a very strong emotion that you find yourself to be pushing against. You can do this actually whenever you want. You can start off with small emotions and work your way up. For DPDR (depersonalization/derealization) do this whenever you want. DPDR is an intense form of disconnection that causes dissociation. Learning to be present with any emotion will help you to over time become more and more connected with yourself. If you find yourself really hesitant to do this, that’s perfectly fine. Just know that the more hesitant you are the more you know in the future you need to attempt this process. The more hesitant you are the more intense the emotion is from past self rejection: your body can become so disconnected from continuous self rejection that your subconscious doesn’t trust you to stay present and therefore will make it harder for you to access that part of yourself. This can be done by creating extreme fear and panic the closer you get to feeling. This can be done by blocking a memory you can’t access. Theres lots of ways your mind can block or distract you from reaching a memory or feeling that was too painful for your past self to handle. This is done out of protection for that part of you and for yourself as well, so both parts within you don’t have to confront whatever is causing your intense emotion. This is why I strongly suggest doing this under the guidance of a therapist whether in session or not.

☀️💛 Good luck stay safe beautiful angels 💛☀️

[liv-laugh-die]

||Admiring|| 💖Miya Osamu x Gn!reader

trope: strangers meeting in the park (ik its random bear with me😭)

warnings: its not proofread all the way through (im sorry im tired), so theres probably grammatical errors or typos but other than that none

genre: fluff pretty much just sappy stuff

pairing/s: osamu x gn!reader

wc: about 2.5k

a/n: oh my god idk where i came up with this but i think its cute so :p i hope you enjoy!!

You stared at your blank computer screen, hope of finishing your assignment before its due date at midnight slowly vanishing. 

     The clock on your desk read 11:27pm, the green lines wavering in your vision as your eyes slowly drooped, trying to drag you into the depths of slumber. You wanted to sleep, you really did, but you knew there was no way you could give up writing your essay, even now, knowing you weren’t going to submit it on time, because you would stress too much about it if you didn’t at least try to complete it before the due date. 

     Pushing yourself away from your desk, your chair squeaking against the floor ever so slightly in your dead silent dorm room, you tried to think of some excuse that your professor might believe. You doubted there was anything you could think of, but hey, your professor was better than what your roommates’ had mentioned theirs being, and you were grateful for that. Maybe you could tell him that you were exhausted from working extra hours at your job since you had had to cover your coworker’s shift and that’s why you couldn’t complete your essay on time? Or, maybe you could get away with a simple “I was lacking interest in the material, and couldn’t understand anything, and I didn’t ask for help because I knew that you are such a busy man trying to do so many things at once. Another hopeless near college drop-out wasn’t something I thought you needed on your hands.”

     ....Maybe not the latter.

    You sighed, running a hand through your tangled hair, practically feeling it screaming at you to wash it. You barely had time in the mornings to take showers anymore, and when you took them at night, you never had the strength to wash your hair, always knowing that putting a hat on overtop or throwing on your hoodie would make it seem fine on the outside, and that was good enough for you. As long as you looked at least decent and somewhat presentable.

    Your dorm room was fairly small, like every other one, but the lack of furniture made it seem larger than the rest. Nothing more than you and your roommate’s joint desk, the mini fridge in the corner, and the beds filled the space. You almost tripped over your backpack lying next to the bunk bed pushed up against the wall, falling to what would’ve been inches away from your roommate’s sleeping body.

    In an attempt not to disturb them, you tiptoed through the room, stepping over the occasional heap of clothes or homework, until you reached the bathroom. You fumbled over the door knob before almost tumbling into the small space. Glancing in the mirror, you didn’t fail to notice your messy hair, the dark circles tracing beneath your eyes, or the way you looked like you were seconds away from passing out. The sound of running water rang in your ears as you turned on the sink faucet, cupping your hands together and bringing your face down to meet them, rubbing the cold water all over you in an attempt to keep you awake for just a few moments longer.

     Your eyes returned back to the mirror as you sighed at your dripping wet face. There was no way possible you were going to finish your assignment on time. You knew it, your roommate knew it before they passed out, and you had noticed your professor’s wary glance this morning in class as a sign that he knew it too.

     An idea sprang into your head, part of you dreading the optimism that seemed to seep through your brain slowly. You didn’t feel like being energetic right now.

---an hour later---

You weren’t exactly sure how, when, or why you decided it would be a good idea to take a shower (you did end up washing your hair, thank god), get your things together in your bag, and head to the off-campus coffee shop (since the one on-campus had already closed), but you found yourself with a warm cup of coffee in hand as you exited the shop, the cold midnight air enveloping you in an unwelcome embrace.

     You shivered. The only thing your spontaneous brain had forgotten had to have been your jacket, the one thing your normal brain would’ve remembered if it weren’t already past midnight and if you weren’t majorly sleep-deprived.

     You most certainly weren’t done with your essay yet, nor was there any possible way for you to finish it on time since it was now approximately thirteen minutes past the due time, but you let yourself breathe for now.

     There weren’t many people out at this hour, and it made the usual busy city streets seemed like a ghost town. There were a few restaurants still open as you strolled along the sidewalk, their lights responsible for illuminating more than half the area in front of you. You passed by an onigiri shop your friend had recommended to you, but you just weren’t that hungry. Most nights, you’d kill for a midnight snack, but your single shot of espresso coffee was satisfying your needs for now.

     You decided to head to the park after seeing a rabbit hop its way across the vacant street and into the bushes in that direction. The fresh air was nice and cool against your dry and croaky lungs, and your ears needed a different sound than that of you miserably attempting to touch type quickly, your fingers rapping against the keyboard with vigor.

     A stream nearby flowed softly, the dripping of the water against the rocks complimenting the noise of the crickets chirping in sync just downstream. Your footsteps cut through the grass slowly, not bothering to follow the stone path. The park was a nice change of scenery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been here by yourself in peace, it was always you and your rambunctious friends who ran through every now and then just to see the dogs running through the sprinklers, or the occasional poor cat whose owner dragged them out into the daylight for exercise. This was peaceful, though, and you appreciated that.

     A few more rabbits crossed your path, giving you that wide-eyed, side glance before darting off into the darkness, outside the reach of the lampposts emitting light. The sound of the stream soon faded out as you continued to walk through the park, sipping your coffee every so often. The warmth from your cup was soon dying out, and you figured you’d have to start walking back to your university sooner or later. Maybe you could crash at your friend’s house who lived just off campus, though you had forgotten your phone back at your dorm and had no alarm, no laptop to complete your work, and no contact with anyone else who might worry where you’d be. You had really no choice but to trek back to your dorm in the darkness, cutting your peaceful visit to the park short.

     You let yourself have a few more minutes of stress free relaxing as you sat down on a bench just before the ground let out into a downhill slope overlooking the rest of the city below. The trees around you swayed in the breeze, and for a moment, you thought it was the wind talking, and not an actual human being who had somehow made his way beside you without gathering your attention.

     “Didn’t think anyone else would be up at this hour,” the stranger mumbled. You glanced up, almost startled that, indeed, someone else was actually awake and strolling through the park.

     The boy couldn’t have been much older than you were, maybe the same age. He had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, the wind tousled his dark hair ever so slightly, and the moonlight played along, illuminating his face just so you could actually see how gorgeous he was.

     You cleared your throat, averting your eyes back to the ground as you shifted over, creating more space on the bench in case he wanted to sit down beside you. “I decided to actually take care of myself for once and give myself some time to breathe before facing the wrath of my professor tomorrow when he finds out I didn’t turn in my essay on time.” You let out a low, breathy chuckle, not exactly sure of what would happen next.

     The guy sat down on the bench next to you, though he made sure to give you some personal space, which you were grateful for. He laughed along with you a bit, and you could tell just from his tone just how tired he really was.

     You gave him a side glance, raising an eyebrow. “So, what the stressful thing that brought you here in the middle of the night?”

     He smiled half-heartedly, eyes trained on the moon. “Work stuff. Jus’ been busy, I guess.” He shrugged. 

     You waited for him to continue on, but he stayed silent. You didn’t complain, though. Wasn’t your whole reason for coming out here in the dead of the night for some quiet? Plus, it wasn’t awkward either. You were comfortable sitting next to this stranger.

     “What do you do for work?” You waited a little longer than necessary to ask, but he didn’t seem to mind the long pause.

     “I own a restaurant a few blocks away. I love the job, it’s just tiring havin’ to deal with rude customers like my brother who won’t get the hint and get out sometimes. I got into an argument with him earlier today and he just wouldn’t shut it.” He rolled his eyes and took his hands out of his pockets, making eye contact with you as he went on about his day, and you couldn’t help but smile at his passion. “The guy thinks he can just walk in when I’m working with a new employee and just act like he runs the place! Quite stupid if you ask me. Such a jerk, he is. Thinkin’ about just banning him from the place, really.” 

     You snorted. “He really bugs you that much, huh?”

     The guy smirked at your laugh, admiring it, though you would never had guess that was what flashed across his face in a million years. He nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I love ‘im ‘cause he’s my twin and my best friend, but he really knows how to annoy the hell outta me.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just get a sign in the window that says “no shirt, no shoes, no service” and cross it out and write my brother’s name instead,” he reasoned, and the pondering look in his eyes made you wonder if he was actually considering the idea.

     You smiled. “You’re funny.”

     “You say that like ya weren’t expectin’ it.”

     A laugh made its way out your lips. “Well, when you’re approached by a stranger in the middle of the night you sort of expect the worst.”

     The guy glanced off in the distance, away from you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sorry, didn’t think of that comin’ off that way.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m funny then, and not some creep, eh?”

     You nodded, the smile on your face not fading as he changed topics.

     “So, what’s your essay on? Any way I can help ya finish it?”

     You shook your head dismissively. “Oh, no. It was due thirty minutes ago.” You quickly explained the topic you were writing about in class before getting side tracked. “My professor had said he would allow it to be turned in the next morning, but I doubt he actually meant it.”

     He smiled a wide grin, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. “You go to the university nearby, right?” 

     You nodded in confirmation, raising an eyebrow. “If I’ve got any luck, there’s a chance you go there too?”

     He laughed a little, shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t, sorry. I’ve visited campus a few times because some of my friends go there, but I just usually focus on work.”

     His gaze was tilted upwards towards the sky, and you couldn’t help but admire how the exhaustion still shone in his eyes, but somehow that same passion gleamed there too just mentioning what he did for a living. You wished you were that passionate about something that would actually support you financially in the future and make you happy.

     When he glanced back at you, you were still taking his essence in, and he made a look of confusion. “What?”

    You shook your head, chuckling. “Nothing. I just admire that you can dedicate yourself to something and make it seem so easy.” He looked at you, interested to hear what you had to say, even though you were sure you couldn’t be the first person to tell him this. “I haven’t even known you for more than ten minutes and I can already tell you’re passionate about what you do and if you’re stressed about it, it must mean you’re dedicated to seeing your work through, and that’s more than enough to admire and appreciate, especially when that can be so difficult sometimes.” You finished your short tangent, looking back up at him to see him staring intently at you, seemingly in awe of what you’d just said. You felt a blush creep onto your face as you quickly blurted out, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to be so straightforward and weird like that- I sound like some crazy secret admirer or something...”

     The crickets chirped in the silence between the two of you, and it felt like it would never end.

     “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a secret admirer. I mean, wouldn’t be so secret, but...” You saw the smile creep up onto his face. “It’s nice being appreciated. Nobody really tells me that kind o’ stuff, so... thanks, I guess.” 

     The heat on your cheeks didn’t go away by any means, but you grew more comfortable with it as you mumbled, “Maybe I wouldn’t mind admiring you.”

     Now, it was the boy’s turn to blush, and you smiled at how his cheeks grew redder with every passing second, and how his subtle grin spoke a thousand words he didn’t need to say.

     “Miya Osamu.” The boy’s hand came into your view as he extended it for you to shake. “I own Onigiri Miya across from the grocery outlet.”

     You smirked, grasping his hand in yours as you said, “L/N Y/N. I own an official license for being a horrible driver and an ID that proves I’m a sleep-deprived college student and that’s about it.”

     He laughed, shaking your hand and standing up, letting go too soon for your liking.

     Because for some weird reason, his hand felt right in yours.

     Osamu said a quick goodbye, mentioning something about how he should get going and how you should get some sleep before he disappeared down the stone path back into the darkness.

     You stood up not too long after he’d left, your coffee now entirely cold as you plopped the half full cup into the trash can on your walk back to your dorm, not needing the pathetic warmth anymore. Your heart was beating fast and the feeling of Osamu’s hand resting in yours lingered on your palm, and that kept you warm enough.

     Maybe you’d be visiting that onigiri place your friend recommended to you a little sooner than you’d originally planned, and maybe more often than you would’ve expected.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Be Right Back

Based off of this ask 

Prompt List

A/N: WEDDING DAY SMUTT!! I split this request up, 4/5 and 3/6

3. “Ought t’fuck you right here if I have to.”

6. “You have no idea what I’m thinking about right now.”

Harry was horny. Harry was so hard, he thought he could cut glass. He tried to block out his filth ridden thoughts, he really did. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do to, and with his new wife. Harry tried to be fully present in the conversation with your bother, but it was a bit hard to do when he was sporting a hard-on towards the guys sister. Fortunately for Harry, the conversation came to a halt when your sister-in-law steals your brother away. This gives Harry the opportunity to seek out his beautiful bride. He looks around the room for you and he spots your white gown across the room. He weaves in and out of the crowd of family and friends and comes over to where you were sitting. 

“Now I know such a pretty girl like you isn’t all by herself. If I were your boyfriend or husband, I’d keep with me at all times.” You hear Harrys voice nearing and you turn your legs out, inviting him to sit in front of you.

“He’s around here somewhere” you sigh smiling the man that was now sitting in front of you. You decided to sit out of all the festivities for the time being, in an attempt to recharge your batteries so you could get back to the fun. Harry slides his chair closer to yours so that your knees were touching, he sits his drink on the table and grabs your hands, thumbing over your wedding ring. 

“I love you Mrs. Styles” he says, leaning over to kiss you. 

“I love you even more Mr. Styles” you reply, meeting Harrys lips.

“I don’t think that’s even possible” he pulls away from your lips looking over your figure. You changed into a more comfortable dress after the wedding and harry couldn’t get enough of it. He thought you looked so delicate and pretty, he just needed you in some way.

“C’mere baby” he opens his arms to you and you move to sit in his lap. As soon as you sat down, you stood right back up. 

“Harry!” You gasp, and lightly shove his shoulder. Harry chuckles at your reaction, and pulls you back down onto his lap. 

“If it makes y’feel any better, s’all because of you baby” he kisses the area below your ear and pulls you further into his lap. 

“That makes it so much better” you say, your voice ridden with sarcasm.

“You have no idea what I’m thinking about right now.” He leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and shoulder. 

“What are you thinkin’ about” you ask this even though you already had a clue to what his response was. You turn in his grasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to get a better look at him. 

“So much baby” he begins “been thinkin’ about how good you’ll look with just y’ring on” he begins. “How good you’ll feel wrapped around my cock” Harry continues, getting closer and closer to your face. “How you’ll be screaming my name by the end of the night” he finishes, smearing his lips onto yours. You feel things warming up between your legs. You were trying to keep your flustered feelings at bay, but Harry was making it really hard. He slightly pulls his lips away from yours, and you chase after his lips. “Ought t’fuck you right here if I have to.” He chuckles at your urgency, and he taps your lower back for you to stand up from his lap. He stands up behind you, pulling you out of the large room. You and Harry get stopped along the way, to which you both quickly reassure almost everyone in your path that you were only stepping out for a little to get some fresh air. When you both eventually make it out to the lobby, Harry pulls you in the direction of your dressing room from earlier. Once inside, Harry closes and locks the door behind you two. He presses you against the door and he kisses you full force. Harry swallows all of your moans and presses his body against yours, his bulge pressing against your lower stomach. He lifts you up, wrapping his hands around the backs of your thighs. You feel the coolness of his wedding band against your skin and it only fuels your desire for him. You cup the sides of his face and you kiss him harder than before. 

Harry then moves towards the couch against the wall and he lays you back against the cushions. He separates his lips from yours and he looks at your splayed out figure beneath him. 

“Y’look so beautiful” he pants, gawking at how you looked, almost angelic. Now, he wanted to taint your halo just a little bit. You soon break Harry out of his thoughts, needing him to do something already.  

“Mr. Husband, are you going to fuck your wife now or what?” you question, growing impatient. 

“If you insist” he sighs jokingly, pushing your dress up above your hips and his eyes hone in on your little surprise for him. “To rip, or not to rip, that is the question” he ponders over whether or not he’d rip your panties off. 

“Oh my god, just shove your dick inside of me already!” you whine pulling at his pants, and undoing his belt. He chuckles at your reaction and he pulls your panties down your legs. He spreads your legs, resting between them. 

“Such a pretty little pussy” he admires, shoving his pants down his legs, and gripping his cock. “Y’ready?” He pushes his cock against your center. You nod your head and he pushes into you. 

“Fuck” you whine digging your nails into his biceps through his shirt.

“Feel so good baby” harry pants, pushing deeper into you. Harry takes some deep breaths, overwhelmed at how tight you were squeezing him. He starts to thrust into you, pushing his cock into you so deep you felt him in your tummy. Your head rolls against the fabric of the couch, unable to do anything else in response to the intense pleasure Harry was giving you. 

“Harder” you pant, needing harry to just slam into you. 

“Y’want me to go harder” he questions, pulling out of you, moving to flip you over and he yanks you back into him. He slams back into you and you claw at the arm of the couch. The only sounds in the room are Harrys pants, your gasps, and the sound of Harrys skin slapping against yours. “Fuck, m’gonna cum” harry pants, his grip on you tightens and his hips begin to slam into you harder. He moves his fingers to your clit and you feel your orgasm bubbling up inside of you.

“Harry” you moan loudly, cumming hard around him, with Harry not far behind. Harry lets you both catch your breath before slowly pulling out of you, and he reaches onto the floor to grab your panties. He slides them back onto you and he flips your dress back down. He helps you up off of the couch and onto your wobbly feet. 

“Told yeh you’d be screamin’ my name” he says matter of factly, fixing his clothes making sure to tuck, button and fasten everything  back into place.

“If this is gonna be forever, Im not so sure about this” you quirk your brow up at him through the full length mirror in the corner of the room. 

“Sorry baby, you’re kinda stuck with me” Harry wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Well theres no one else I’d rather be stuck with other than you Mr. Styles.” You look at him through the mirror, admiring the man who you now called your husband.

“I love you more than you know Mrs. Styles, I’d be honored to be stuck with you.” he turns you around in his grasp and gives you a kiss that was the same, if not similar to the kiss you had at the end of your wedding, just with a lot more tongue.

“I guess we have to go back out there and be the happy couple.” Harry pouts planting a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Less than 24 hours and we’ll be on our way to our honeymoon destination which by the way, I’d really like to know.” You pull Harry out of the room to go back to the party. 

“One, thats for me to know and you to find out, and two, I don’t think I’ll make it 24 hours.” He trails behind you. 

You and Harry danced the rest of the night away, downing the last pieces of your once beautiful cake, and downing almost an entire bottle of champagne between the two of you. You both were enjoying your post wedding and post sex bliss, making sure to savor every last moment together.

Masterlist

[4bsynthe4ngel]

Messages for the Signs this Weekend ! (2/5/21 - 2/7/21)

Applies to all major placements!

Aries:

KEY WORDS: Faith, Patience, Peace, Rest, Reflect 

Aries, let go of the need to control everything! Relax! Have faith in your guides! They’re basically screaming that you need to let go of the need to know all the answers and start going with the flow more. You seem hyper-fixated on a goal when in all reality there’s something much better for you out there that you aren’t giving yourself the time to see. Stop overworking yourself, you are allowed to rest. I’m hearing that a lot of you need to take a walk to ground yourself. Pay attention to nature and all of the beautiful things around you, please stop getting so caught up in life! 

Taurus:

KEY WORDS: Dreams, Boundaries, Independence, Pleasure, Achievement, Trust, Passion

Wow taurus, there’s a lot to go over here! First of all, theres a huge emphasis on dreams here. You guys need to pay a lot more attention to your dreams, your guides are trying to tell you something! I’m seeing that you guys might be a little confused on where you’re supposed to be going in life. Like you spent so much time doing what others wanted you to do and now you’re not quite sure what you actually want anymore. Think back to what you loved as a child, this will give you a hint on where you should be going. You probably still love all of the little things you loved as a child. Resurrect those passions, it’ll be so relieving. Listen, and don’t act like you didn’t just read this. STOP LETTING THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU CONTROL WHAT YOU DO. ASSERT YOUR BOUNDARIES. TRUST YOURSELF AND YOUR OWN DECISIONS. YOU ARE ON THE RIGHT PATH. 

Gemini: 

KEY WORDS: Wait, Listening, Self-Love, Support, Connection, Playfulness

Geminis, spend some time with your family this weekend, or if your family sucks, your friends. If you have a younger sibling, a friend with a younger sibling, your own child, or just a young child around you, spend some time with them. There’s a lot we can learn from children! Nourish your inner child by letting loose and spending some time around kids! Remember that sense of joy that you’ve forgotten. Also, relax! Take care of your body by giving it a break. Meditate! It seems like a lot of you are avoiding inner child work. That’s your focus this weekend. Nourish your inner child. 

Cancer: 

KEY WORDS: Wait, Tenderness, Awareness, Friendship, Power, Self-Love, Clearing

Alright cancers, your act of self care this week is cleaning. Some of you seem a little stuck in the past and the best way I’m seeing to fix that right now is to clean! Clear out your closet, get rid of all the things you don’t wear, don’t like, don’t want, etc. Make your bed, run yourself a nice bath, relax, think about all the things you appreciate about yourself, and then jump into those fresh bedsheets in your favorite oversized tshirt and let yourself be comfortable. Oh, and call a friend! (or text them or something it doesn’t really matter just stop isolating yourself so much!) Quarantining is one thing, and I know it feels nice to be alone, but PLEASE stop isolating yourself so much, hang out with a friend, they miss you (and you miss them a lot more than you realize). Plus, it’ll get you out of your head and in the present moment. You can only sit around and think about the past so much, cancer. 

Virgo: 

KEY WORDS: Peace, Patience, Rejuvenation, Power, Self-Love

Listen virgo, I know y’all are some control freaks, but your guides are getting tired of your shit, and so are you. PLEASE get some rest in this weekend. You are powerful, but you don’t have to spend every waking moment trying to prove that to yourself. Slow down, stop stressing yourself, your body is NOT appreciating it. It seems like a lot of you haven’t been sleeping very well because you won’t stop STRESSING YOURSELVES. Just like aries, you don’t need to have all the answers right now, you don’t always need to know everything. Your guides have your back, I promise, stop worrying. Your act of self care this weekend is getting some good fucking sleep. 

Leo:

KEY WORDS: Faith, Power, Rejuvenation, Self-Love, Time, Listening

Alright leos, y’all better start listening to your intuition RIGHT NEOW!! Y’all are so powerful but you doubt yourselves SO MUCH. STOP IT! You need to learn the difference between intuition and paranoia but you’ll never learn if you never listen to yourself to figure out the difference! Also, drink some fucking water. please. Dehydrated mfs. For some reason I’m seeing a lot of you taking a fully clothed shower in the dark, but not because you don’t like yourselves or anything, just because it sounds relieving, and omg it will be. I’m feeling a LOT of tension release from that. Also, y’all need to fix your sleep schedules. “Humans literally spend a third of our lives asleep, that’s a waste of time” is not a valid point. stop it. sleep. Your body is done with your shit. 

Libra:

KEY WORDS: Playfulness, Pleasure, Creativity, Relaxation, Independence, Reflect, Risk

Libras, just like gemini, y’all should spend some time with children this weekend. I’m definitely seeing finger-painting or drawing with sidewalk chalk. Remember the pleasures of the little things, let yourself feel that joy. Y’all have the power to move mountains, but you’re caught up in proving that to yourself. Not everything is a mountain, and not everything has to be. Decide where to direct your energy, because putting your energy into making molehills into mountains is getting really exhausting. Give yourselves some time to chill the fuck out. You don’t need to be doing something all the time. I’m getting a lot of capricorn “what am I if I’m not productive?” energy, stop it. Don’t let the capitalist brain get to you. If you really can’t stand doing “nothing”, do some art. It doesn’t have to be good, just let that stress out on a canvas, or a sidewalk, it’ll feel great, trust me.

Scorpio:

KEY WORDS: Rest, Peace, Patience, Revelation

Scorpio, y’all need to learn to be patient. There’s something amazing coming to you if you just learn to wait for it instead of chasing the first offer you see. I’m not sure what else to say actually, this is a super clear message. Y’all just need to wait and stop chasing what you think you want so hard. Rest and re-evaluate. The right path will reveal itself when you find it in you to release this one. It’s okay to not know where youre going, you’ll figure it out, I promise. Stop stressing, scorpios. 

Sagittarius:

KEY WORDS: Connection, Support, Priorities

Oooohh, y’all are gonna be spending some time with a special someone this weekend, or if you’re single, some friends! I’m seeing some deep conversations going on and an opportunity to offer your support and advice to someone. This will feel relieving. You might’ve forgotten how nice it can feel to help others with how much you’ve been focusing on yourselves lately. Everyone is seeing the glow-up, I promise, but now is the time to share that growth with others! You also might be evaluating who is actually worth your energy this weekend. You might receive a lot of offers. You know in your heart which ones are worth your time. You won’t make the wrong decision, sag. 

Capricorn: 

KEY WORDS: Self-Respect, Friendship, Magnificence, Wait, Wisdom

I’m seeing some of you doubting your intuition recently, or generally feeling a little blocked. Learn to trust yourself, and understand your self-worth, y’all, stop getting so down on yourselves. You are amazing, unique, and powerful, without ever having to prove it to yourself (or anyone else for that matter). Spending some time with friends will help you realize this. Call up a friend this weekend and do something random. Don’t plan anything out, just meet up and do whatever feels right. Y’all really need to let go of your need for control, and this is your first exercise in it. 

Aquarius: 

KEY WORDS: Dance, Self-Respect, Wisdom, Risk, Guidance

Holy fuck, Aquas. Y’all are really being called to make some moves this weekend. I see a lot of you have been thinking of trying to monetize a talent or just otherwise show it to the world, do it!!!! This is your sign, DO THE THING! You know what’s right, you know exactly what you’re supposed to do. You don’t have to know how it’ll turn out, take that risk! Your guides are screaming at you to! They have your back! If you don’t believe me, ask them!! Listen, this is the most amazing reading, it’s so beautiful, PLEASE make whatever move you’ve been thinking of making, it WILL work out. “Take a Risk - You have the power within to move mountains” “Ask for guidance - The Divine will meet your every need” “Step into the light - Share your gifts and talents with the world”. I cannot make this any clearer, AQUAS, D O T H E T H I N G ! R I G H T N E O W !!!!!

Pisces: 

KEY WORDS: Pleasure, Tenderness, Dance, Rest

Alright, like aquarius, y’all pisces placements have something you’ve been wanting to monetize, but unlike aquarius, it seems like y’all have been trying pretty hard to monetize it and haven’t spent much time just enjoying it. Whatever you love, just do it because you love it for a while. Stop thinking so hard about it, just relax and enjoy the things you enjoy this weekend. Be nice to yourself, enjoy how far you’ve come in life without constantly pushing yourself further. Think about how far you’ve come. If you’re a musician, slow down learning so many new things and look back on what you know, play some old songs to refresh your memory. If you’re an artist, look back on your old work, do something you used to do as a kid, like fingerpainting or sidewalk chalk drawings. This is how you guys will nourish your inner child this weekend (which is MUCH needed). Appreciate how far you’ve come and allow yourself to relax, you’re doing fine. 

[leelewishnd2c]

Modulating Devices (Research)

Modulating devices are an incredibly important factor to shooting a successful portrait, they are key for manipulating the direction and the quality of light both in studio and on location, even more for the latter if conditions aren’t ideal(Sunlight is too harsh/Needs to be bounced). I’ll list the modulating devices I’ve come across and some potential uses for said devices below: 

Flags:

Flags are often a black, solid surface which is used to block or absorb light. It can also be used to cast shadows for dramatic effect, or create negative fill. However, some flags also occur in the natural world too, it’s basically anything that effectively blocks light such as: Windows/curtains, trees, fencing, black card, doorways and even some buildings if you consider the time of day. 

Reflectors:

Reflectors are essentially anything with the quality to bounce light back from a key light to the subject, silver surfaces are probably the most effective at this but are also the harshest in light quality. Due to this, most opt for something white like a large piece of white card or perhaps a white reflector. Photographers are known to get creative with their resources however, you could even use a white car to reflect hard sunlight if you were out shooting in the street or at home. There are also Gold reflectors, if you’re shooting in really warm colour temperatures such as “Golden Hour” 

  The purpose of reflectors is to fix shadows, if there’s too much in the subjects face or perhaps the eyes just need a little catchlight in them to give them some soul. 

Diffusers:

Diffusers are often used in unison with reflectors, I feel like photographically they are both sides of the same coin. Diffusers by definition are any translucent material which will allow light to pass through it, thereby softening the quality of the light. The closer the diffuser is to the subject however, the softer this light will be and the photographer can still achieve a harsher look by positioning the diffuser a little further away from the subject if they wish. 

  Diffusers can be used in a studio environment or on location, whether it’s a soft-box on an expensive flash rig or it’s a cheap shower curtain set over a window in the event of unwanted harsh sunlight during a shoot. There’s tonnes of alternatives, for photographers on a budget theres: Pillowcases, White bin bags, thin white t shirts and shower curtains. Creativity is key when looking for modulators. 

Filters:

Filters are a wonderful tool in a photographers arsenal, from creative colour filters, ND filters (Neutral Density) which block light giving you that extra stop or two to play with to polarising lenses which remove reflections, there’s a filter for every photographer. A filter is fixed onto the front of the lens or optical path of a camera, you can check which size of filter your lens fits by looking at the bottom of the front of the lens, just in front of the focus wheel. 

Colour Lenses: 

Colour lenses have many different effects on a photo and are typically only used in certain branches of it, I’ll list them below: 

Red- Red filters are firstly my favourite, they are often used in black and white photography with high contrast finish because they absorb blues and greens. This often brings really dramatic skies into the photos which make it perfect for landscapes and architecture photos 

Blue- Will enhance reds and oranges, giving a soft contrast but not as much as the red filter. 

Green- Often used in portraits, it is sympathetic with skin tones and used especially under artificial lighting, perhaps more towards tungsten to cool out the skin tone. 

Orange- These are slimly used but are especially effective at enhancing a sunset due to the golden hour tones. 

Yellow- Popular with black and white film and landscape photographers, commonly used to bring out the clouds in an image as the yellow filter absorbs the blue behind the clouds, darkening them and giving them more definition. 

Non-Colour Filters

There are a few filters which are neutral in colour, which affect mostly exposure and how light is received in the sensor. I’ll list them below:

Neutral Density filters (ND): 

Neutral Density filters are a neutral grey tone by name and increase the optical density over the lens which makes it far easier to shoot in bright conditions by allowing less light through, making  bright snowy days or just incredibly bright scenes less of a challenge. It’s essentially like your camera wearing a pair of sunglasses. These can be bought made for a number of stops down, giving you the creative freedom in those lighter scenes. 

Polarising Filter: 

Polarising filters have many small quirks to them, but mainly they are used to reduce reflections in non metallic surfaces in photography. Transparent surfaces such as water or glass can greatly benefit from these kinds of filters, they wont be removed entirely but using a polarising filter can greatly reduce this. It is also worth adding that they are the only filter which cannot be replicated in post, so it is recommended that photographers pick one up. 

  They have also known to be used in removing glare from the sun, this can also be applied to the water or glass if they reflect the harsh light directly. These lenses also do some justice to the colour saturation of images, as well as fighting off glare and reflections. 

[iamsonyeondone]

red string of fate // lee taeyong

college and soulmate au! taeyong

there’s no angst in this just fluff ^^

everyone had their own red string of fate

one end tied to your pinky while the other end belonged to your soulmate

everything had been decided by that famous red string, each individual being presented with it when they reached of legal age

but no one knows where all this originated from or whoever made it up

all they knew was that the red string tied securely on their pinky will never untie, break or disappear 

unless either partners went through certain circumstances

of course everyone fawned over this magical occurrence, it being the first topic that any human would speak of

it was always ‘red string’ this or ‘fate’ that

and it made you grow tired of it by the time you graduated from high school

and that annoyance that lingered whenever someone would mention it slowly turned into anger, fueled by the incessant questions that flood your thoughts and ears every day

‘you havent had a red string yet?” or the ‘arent you scared of being alone?’

the first time you heard those questions made you fidget with worry in the beginning

and you subconsciously comforted yourself with the idea that your fate would come to you when the time was right

no one can rush something such as being destined-to-be-soulmates

but the questions doubled over and you learnt how to selectively mute their words

but that was all in the pass

the moment you saw the red string appear on your pinky you went speechless for the entire day

you had no idea how to feel or how to react because after all these years, the pesky red string finally appeared before your eyes

you even tried cutting it with a pair of kitchen scissors

let’s just say you almost lost your life from flying kitchen equipment and that the red string remained unscathed

Once you got over the phenomenon, you called up your best friend to break the news to

but you were only met with the sound of the familiar beeping

yep he hung up the moment you told him the news

because in the next five minutes, you find yuta and johnny huffing and puffing on your doormat, sweat trickling down their skin

“its,,,time,,t,to,,celebrate” yuta managed a little smile before crawling into your apartment, welcoming the cool air of the ac

for the next few hours, the three of you ramble on about the new found miracle while they explained their own experience when they found out about their own path to their destined lover

“i really thought you would end up as a cat or dog lady,” johnny said in between bites, all of you deciding to have a pizza party as a celebration

“hEY, being a crazy cat lady aint that bad,,,wait now that you said about being a dog lady,,,”

“istg y/n you take care of yourself first before actually getting one. i mean look at you, you’re still wearing the same outfit from yesterday”

“SHUT IT NAKAMOTO SAVE WATER SAVE THE EARTH”

the next few weeks, you struggle trying to focus in your lectures, your gaze always focusing the vibrant red on your smallest finger

and you cant help but try to see if you could find ‘the one’ by looking for the owner of the other end of the string

you were intensely watching the crowd from inside the campus’s cafe, sipping on your drink while you looked for someone

but it was funny; you had no idea how this person looked or how they acted but somehow your heart is pounding in your ears just by the thought

but you were brought back to the present by the waiter, he looked pretty familiar

was he in one of your lectures?

maybe you bumped into each other at a party

“you’re y/n right? that guy in the corner bought you a muffin,” he smiled sweetly

you glanced back up at his name tag. ‘kun’? oH you saw him at the bar performing magic tricks when his group of friends joined yours

“oh y-yeah,, thanks kun,” you reciprocated his smile before turning your attention back on the man in question

you’ve never seen him before but you were sure to steer clear from the guy

he had this smug smirk plastered on his face, shooting a wink your way as you awkwardly glanced away

even after an hour or so, you could feel his eyes staring right through your skull

that was until johnny slides down on the seat opposite yours, breaking his stares 

“that test nearly annihilated all my braincells,” he sighed and just as he was about to rant about the way the test was squeezing out all his brain juices, he takes a glimpse of you and his big brother ways rise up

“what’s up? something happened?” he asked in a reassuring but soft tone and the pressure on your shoulders lessen

“its nothing,,,” you trailed off, but his eyes nudged you to go on “there’s this sleazy creep trying to hit on me but you better not beat his ass. can we just,, can we just leave? i know a better spot anyway,” you mumbled everything in one breath

and johnny respected your decision albeit the strong urge to use his new found knowledge of muay thai on someone else

the both of you hurry out, johnny watching your back for you while the doorbell rang 

“damn i didnt know sleazy douchebags go to cafes too,” johnny joked to lighten the mood while the both of you walked through campus, students littering the school with tired and panicked expressions

somehow the heavy feeling in your chest seemed to find comfort in the bottom of your heart

and the thumping of your loud heart blocked out whatever johnny was talking about

maybe something about his muay thai class with haechan? he did mention how much he enjoyed it. or was it about his project for the photography club?

you were so stuck in your thoughts that johnny had already stopped in his tracks while you continued walking through the groups of students

and suddenly the loud beating of your heart escalated to your fidgety fingers and your almost sure your cheeks are softly stained red

that is until you bump your head onto something

or someone

and when you try to profusely apologize for being unaware of the person’s presence

your jaw drops at the sight of someone so beautiful you thought he was fiction

did you get a concussion and now you were hallucinating things???

noPE because the next thing that happens is the slight tugging sensation on your finger and you look down to it in confusion

you wonder when the string became so short or how it no longer dragged on concrete pavements,,

or how you could see someone else being connected on the other end

and you traced the other finger to see the gorgeous man right in front of you

you were definitely dreaming because is it even possible to be paired with someone who’s so out of your league?

apparently your soulmate agrees

because he’s flabbergasted himself, mouth gaping and struggling to come up with words to greet himself

because the both of you were too preoccupied with each other, johnny had to intercept

wingman johnathan to the rescue

“hey whats up taeyong? havent seen you around school lately,” he chuckled, breaking you out of your thoughts

“wait,,, you know him? u-h i mean-”

“yeah he came to the photography club from time to time to help ten annnnd speaking of ten, he called me like a minute ago asking for some help. maybe you can replace me for today’s study date, taeyong,”

you managed to get a glance of johnny’s sly smile before he jogged off to one of the school buildings

which was definitely not the direction of the photography club

but you were stopped from staring into his soul by the sound of taeyong clearing his throat

“you dont mind if i uhm tag along right?” and you swoon at the sound of his voice

somehow your blush had already reached the tips of your ears and you nervously nodded your head in reply

“theres this place where me and my friends go to to study and its not that far. you dont mind the outdoors right?” you mumbled the question

taeyong managed a small smile which elicits a smile from yourself as well

the next few hours of studying in the school’s garden goes by in a flash

the both of you get immersed in each other’s thoughts and opinions and even though your personalities and your likes or dislikes clash with each other

it just seemed so perfect

maybe this string of fate was making you wear a pair of rose-tinted glasses

because you barely know this guy 

and yet it felt like you’ve known him for years

days past and one study session turned into four and somehow your friend group extended as well

doyoung would drop by every once in a while and if it werent for taeyong’s presence, you would have definitely only see him as someone cold and overwhelming

or the fact that taeyong drops by the neighboring high school to see his ‘younger brothers’ because he had extra leftover from his cooking class 

cue heart pounding, happy crying, loud screaming moment because he’s so husband material

sometimes they like to tease him because what??? we have 2 parents now??

and you can see him get so flustered over the statement because getting married to you sounds like a dream

and when taeyong officially asks you out and you very calmly say yes, it becomes the most talked about relationship on campus

he had already been the top three talked about topic in school but when someone spots him with you, holding hands through the hallway, the news spread like wildfire

and for a whole week, you get bombarded with questions from random strangers about how its like to date taeyong

and you cant really give an answer because you start blushing furiously at the question and you start stammering 

and by the time you get a few words out, five minutes already passed the person who had asked you about it had already disappeared somewhere else

because what is it like to date lee taeyong?

aside from the fact that your boyfriend was sculpted carefully by the gods,,

he is one of the softest person you know

he feeds the cats and dogs on the street when you go out on dates because he has actual kibble for them in his bagpack because human food arent good for them he says

and the way he cuddles up to you when he sleeps over because the two of you cant seem to say farewell after a whole day out

taeyong is really sensitive to the cold so when autumn starts creeping up, he gets as close to you as possible which meant cuddling hours all day round

except in front of people because he’s too shy for pda

because one time he planted a soft kiss on your cheek at your apartment door and the old lady that lived a few doors down had seen the both of you and she talked about how she missed those days of being young in love

and he started malfunctioning because he became so embarrassed by it even though the old lady meant no harm at all

can we also talk about how much he spoils you? even the boys agree that he spoils you the most

chenle aka his biggest fan is jealous that you get to hear him hum you to sleep

“i know we adopted you as our parental figure but please stop stealing him from us, we’re starting to starve,” haechan complained 

“oh really?? what about,, this” and you present the lunchboxes you and taeyong made because you decided to join him 

like you’re really motivated to cook for him because he’s done so much for you??

now the boys just love you even more

because they know you’re not just after his looks especially since taeyong is really too kind for his own good

and what’s taeyong’s feelings for you?

he cant describe how much his feelings for you have escalated 

because one moment he feels so comfortable with you, sleeping with his head on your lap while you attempt to read through your notes

and another moment his heart is beating so fast from being so close to you because the lift is crowded with people and he tries to shield you away from the others

and most of the time when you’re in full focused mode, he chuckles and his heart feels like there’s flowers blooming in his chest from the way your antics naturally show up

or the way he tries to wake up a few minutes earlier so he can bask in the moment with you in his arms while he brushes the stray strands of hair on your face

and its just,,, the purest form of love

“you dont look so good, have you been overworking yourself again?” you huff worriedly, pressing the back of your hand gently on his face while yours was just inches away from his

and he takes a moment to stare back into your eyes, a small smile growing on his lips

“am i sick? maybe that’s because all i think about is you,”

a/n: oh what im updating??? okay im just gonna say this first that this will not be happening regularly due to my schedule and i only try to write when im really inspired and motivated which is like every 6 months im so sorry but i hope you guys like this one and i’ll try my best in the future ❤

[turuses-blog]

Space Suede

Space~Suede

  }}}}

UUUNNNN

       Copyright 2017 Johnathan Urbalonis… Meant to be read, rendering the borders of thy most – mephistopheles, intertwining tango.

         E

  taste

Without spectacle or speculation To disprove either, why this contrite act Of order - wrought twice over now - with patience Is an obedience foreign to lapse… Within perfect solitude and solace that To rend an addict’s said, dictatorship… Oh! in bellows, battling always, lapsed Steering clear of crystals from any hip… Oh! trapped for good in ambient control A wave formation, phalanx, to peruse Notwithstanding ministry! to unfurl Freedom, from nothing in essence. Peruse A’ some chapters’ few, and connect To an indeterminable static.

    sallow / pallor

it must be the burnt lemon tree fall upon us solid-crysallids of almondine kiss and please, never let go of this almond fists’ criss-cross lisp to hold boiling fugue it is that the dusky forever’s took a tan gentle shrub enough of a lover’s hug wild at first yet plunging into cupid’s burning lungs o, that sweet passion, to be thy mouth of windless notion… promontory, flora where to end thy’s pursed-when, or  begin, what fond of recoil and jettison-nonplus we’ve bout begged to dine at its smouldering tartine  plagued with ragged snakes and flame to please for the sakes of this lonely burnt lemon tree I’ll assail all with what the burnt lemon takes to consume

                  breakneck

the ivy has pigment on the crux of the arch. the sagging arch of ivy’s pass. it used to be a pasture for silent matters and setting an eye-on and detach. i fear yet the ivy grows me down to this domicile. in the atrium for tea. oh i hate making flavored drinks for such a characteristic ship, sewn together by and by leaves. dare i yank it dare i pull, double-dare i uproot it; and tassle with it’s finland barbs…  wait does it flower? does it own this home? where does it retreat at night when the lamp post posits chrome * no this ivy has a freedom. almost sent from thy heaven’s aftermath… calculating cold evenings alone, and sunny days for scaffolding craft… *it has the right to my door I guess, yet, I must depart tonight… I wish it wasn’t that easy to spot the lamplight’s goneth out tight a splaying, praying, hinge!, yet amorous as pups, that gild by day, and sleep by night… ’just where to go, least infected, so and so, I had for breakfast… as yet, to, I follow the light trodden path out of this dwarve’s town quite, all the while pretty sure - with baggage, light - I may endure a night made up for sleep, not just the itch of playful ivy. and which it’s poison is though soft, maest expedia is complicated as if gazing on twilling willows, accord perpindicular armed these pillows made by man, i completely can’t understand how it got there, or if it’s coming down, whether or not storm of protest, or friendly nether… I’ve tide us together… with a silent jag… the keystone pocketed by horse… to ride out until yet

              serious settlement issue

“oh its just an odd-knocker, this storm.” Praytell forsooth not for teeth clenching prone to roarish brethren. the typeset that abhors onlookers and grave shade yet, whet for grass movements in an erroneous of swivel-floods and tourist. oh and Percival protecting the glass sass root, cellar with ornament and scone (already on hand) “oh it is quite an odd-knocker, this storm.” grassroots do tell of its aberration, the middle of fall.  When and where a witch could scold up a cauldron of cabbage and sugar… to melt your eyes, she switches the lever on… yet no flying, nor sabbotage, in the old bottom-smith, glass loot, cellar for pause. “oh its dying down. this storm, what an odd knock.” as I was in teem, miserable-mind-sleeping… the middle of this seeping womb - the steady creaking of antiquated quaking - without cause. and till the water breaks I shall whisper twas an odd-knocking, as if nothing at all. nothing devoid of a forecast for glasses to toss shadows on the floor which soon shall bind all my fastest convex as storm!

          peti teach

if it weren’t as bad as it was the shelter would have taken scorned crops to this hearth but snowfall brawn on the spruce young guns - find the children-chimerical toast points everywhere… green pea pods appear! everywhere, just for a few seconds from way up here…looks toyish, wonda’ if it id be a boy’s-wish!I

‘lest ye revolve around a stick! (once again) a kernel of hope! a bravish…with wits, rope and vhs tapes as these oils, and balsamic vinegarette! my choose, you,

the scalding hot crouton, bouillin outside like noodle… the exposures almost ready….! ‘spooky’-A.R. battle for the prestige of having a show to perform, the second night… the sun is a baffling cradle, lullaby magnets to master for when rapheal posee’s 

                     tittilage

a truck stop south of the horizon… three perfect miles tilled in tile and daily tallied, the lapse being ticket to a calm shout-out…I’m ’talkin max shout out

                  too many at the table...

shelter… pass it around, At least floridian-meritous, pass the dish… thanksgiving gobbs, out his final mouth. “what is this? a poet convention? I’ve heard the cooking from the fridge. “strange postulate…mmm” Jason takes a sweet friccasi… pass the dish… the moon lost its directions, sitting clock-wise, to floridian-merit boasts! lucky guise… pass that dish… and someone reignite this/that candle, oh yet…” the braille-felt ham tasted too-full, aux musing at last “is that ham from the fridge Jason? is already cooked? shelter, why, I will get it…

                       oh, it has to… bottom of the jar stuck in pretzal’s sobriety… it has to so it can reach the others! the end of the bag, I do say! inquisitive little grasshopper… oh, it has to last… past the two twilights we caught… develop sobriety like a hawk’s bitten chalk… screeching out the taffy just to feel how hops oh, it has to last shorter? why are we backwards like arks? why do we persevere on this quest for the arts? sobriety teams with the green, forensics will catch sight… of a drunkard, with wallabees stationed peruvial at night…. but, might, this door, be friendly? be friendly this door? how can i call my licensure insured? sobriety oh it has to last longer, take a look at this fjord, theres room for candy, Now, I wonder, it’s make! high fortutious exhibition that three some odd twilights i see on television… all requited and paid trick fore, “i keep mine in elastic bands twirling orange fashioned melt-corn-caramel-candy…’ ‘where did i put my sword…’ ‘in fact next year I’ll get the hang of this and cut the corn out’ “bags of melt-caramel-candy” which is what i would frau, to peaceable elements of the nightgown i see crown…” “oh, the door,” “can this last any longer?” the fastest way to sink a tooth into something, valued like sales!, when the aliens embody us, do they where costumes… pouring ale?  ‘i sent a message to an alien once, now in closest procedure, it said, nothing like servicing the eccentric and the outfit’s they where, colloquial as procedure!…’ that’s enough flapping your lonely gums, man, the candles are out…yours?

         jump

the snowy peat piques under our feet a week to bend around the corner till cumbersome cleets - may! - be whittlin the trees and run, ran, tepid in a gauzy defeat all along the terrace, yet not where whet marks’ from… oh the dance of fall, trance-like snow and inward expansion, that is, from a handsome dole of ears on farmer’s land some mottled and took shape to swindle ransomed territorial foot jerks, root/root-marm type glances - a lot of this would happen  the peckish birds in order the final cloud stops to talk the defunkt plough hits its rhythm when they crash into Noah’s Arc

                       block-q

liquid frozen cherry hearts

“used to plunder, here, pitch” “nitrogen in the gun, a black shark”  appointed toward with the pistol ridge. sequential ultra-violet lights hearken

now, aiming at perfect concentric circles a miracle to miss, a martyr scorned at every outer or other disc a lively ancestral adagio of bank clutching triggers affronting notions of hands with gifts on cigarettes, alleviating the end of this type of pistols’ training measure, arriving behind, now, through doors, a field of ace-cards, to score, Since, as all alive, they arrive via assault rifles brought by forklift to the mire

                       january in code

although they do know hospitality, and efficiency among the dreary… well, since the nurse left,   it was sweltering inside the cabin.  which forsook the season came early, Good Heavens  and when we couldn’t take it at all, we issued out into the ramps of snow as blockade and like beforehand spotted the of tufts tobacco far off, gunfire outlets and discoed merrily gauging, yet gouging our gait…

we still had the ridge around this necropolis half-faced, and as we spread, like butter on a skillet, we lost contact, our breathe no longer visible, plodding on into the flurries laying in graves

possibly still warm, we had moved out earlier than as expected… the extra flattering isometric movements we made were cantankerous. at mortar - we lay along the ridges - a fresh footsteps’ walkway past the trekked banks, still with us. ,  digging now back, surrounded by snow, towards the cabin, which this bearing clod and snow curtain imposes in testimony to a feverish loan, …before we start freezing, submachine guns on our postuler comprisals’ with whoady-demons hiding in the banks… whoa… I had strong, black coffee in a flask, which acted fast, yet put me at a loss with the frostbite of that cabin drought…

                       etc

As he gaze past the blinds, blinded by sun and shade, he pulls the chord aperture, at an angle and walks away to the study… Now as some say he makes beautiful sonnets… he to turn on the light to dawn it - these unbelievable inexplicably structured poems, which, in delight - glaze as he flips through; and raise the top right hand corner at the dancing wick to see the roman numeral to expedient light…  Waiting to shop for milk and cheese, just to go ‘home… …and count [his] poems.’ again - replete, with pen names and invisible device, catalouge and camoflauge - jagged jarring shadow mare, bleached-Marrakesh, displaying their centre of weight. - just to eventually feed the perishable… Yet so - conceited,  fashion to vague response and acquisitions, sometimes wrought - not just with his abundance of makes and modellas - conceited to the even very first time he ridiculously took time to stray from couplets and into: haikus, tankas, couplets, stanzas, coupons, colored leaves, radio jazz limericks, sonnets and shoes, just you-bet that until you read his work, that’s all you hear about, etc…

           spot spice

i trot alien to the moon, passive and plausible to make the rise soon… its still early - while she ties her frown in thoughts, laying down - for her. mirth married to tarrier, wincing fairy-gilded to answer the wrought specs ‘in step with the window - the next possible contact swoon so certain and so far away the curtains of fall and May destined to be some other day - the dry champagne - co-ordinates slow - and the clamor, cauterized by locks of snow… until, ray upon ray of thy whetted smile - the merry festoon parlay as he gestures in a hard place… ‘I shall climb this tower, and rescue thee, not since Aesop, hath I believed, that there, a way to contest in speech, win and render this read heir besmirched your fate-meet, to a tender of every mention of my search… to seek. if I don’t climb to Luna, I may not resolve A pageantry for my waking ours’ and roses, in which to impeach.’

            sandy welts

I went through there a while ago… it was fun crouching and dodging the trees… pressed to be, at war with the cite pleading-seething, not early enough to sneeze, yet being and in the beating pulse fleer of a rich,slow, (atomized) culture… in a way it felt untouched, I author… yet as i went on it seemed the way was receding towards an uncomfortable nature. First: the crickets’; sharp territorial lacerations, and the grass; against my calves, the smells of raw dirt; sobbing & the static-firecracker chlorophyll, all dashing ample pressure without building moisture, nonplus- with a bark of tree-like controlled temperature, ready as the rain and sun… it was cool, like an artic-submarine, as i wilted my holder’s keep then yet the thinning sun through the vertices’ expenditures clearly dipped to keep what expedience eye to eye… - I had trekked in a straight line so I took an about-face and marched back through…

‘talk about a red forest; passchendale spread dirt worked crescendo in quiet anticipation… scene from fantasies with a clumsy flourist…(stocked to the teeth) possibly enroute to explore the extra toxic mycological experiential plummets of the sport, known around here as half-plums - down-the-road, flash-back driven to protect snails…that’s all to say about it… yet I know they left trails… all waiting beside, an unevenly undulating mossy-short-fringed-shore… 

The forrest sweat with me. It was on fire, the sun reached the luminescence cast from mark… on this relief of a march (more a thoroughfare) I couldn’t remember sites or paths or anything except the cyphered boughs… I dare say the leaves (in control) had me trapped, or lesser-oblong, blinded a gigantic swirling record of historians…! twas, more a terrestrian color brigade’s way of choosing way; and off to the sides: hay and what have you on one side, and a hedge high as high buildings envisioned from the fence ‘far off feudal.  ‘all it needs is a fashionable mortuary on this plot to clear the woods I say… ‘next to congregational fences therefore, for they say the woods ain’t no normal woods…could be… I don’t frequent forrests too much, but maybe

 the cedar incarcerated graveyard to last past wroughten fig draws

the screech of an antique drawer… the ‘screams at night to be extra visible, in the swift wind. almanac worthy, sale-item, pearl-obelisks of miniature mince through acumen fro-whistling.  thats it with the fields, yet a myriad of several more super-imposed ghastly victims float through the dying leaves, kicking up dusts and leaf-coupons…  I hear the roof belongs to the moon, and the smallest matters’ seek the light…

            partridge

a twisted piece of grass in his responsible thumbs. he takes in, and lets out and some crickets jump in. had he known, grass-gowns for licorice, he’d had not blown his cover, oh so covetted as a tomb ground nearby, so surly, metamorphic reprise done under. what with a sandal stepping on top of small hills. ants and moth and flower and soil… best if he heads home the sun seems to be toiling

           may weather

the bulbous’ businesses bias is of this hyacinth park - next to a frequency-trip rhododendron mention -parched my upper and hidden tensions of sinuses on a timeprint trip toward the sun. blocking the way a few feverish violets graying on the task ‘afront. ‘ i uncontrollably thought of sneezing, i know just the one… with a muddy print flurring off into the grassiest patches of hatchwork passes… chastised with practices of cold mashed potatoes and born of bread in sandwhiches…just to get past this…

she wore along with a song of the ancients - some climactic recession - that of butterflies and their swift tangential progressions; more than half - by a bit - past suspension… yet hammer’s smith smith moat,  floating - to say - and blinking infinitely on a saucer of dismay… what several willows’ pillows at thought to bade, arrays of colorific centrepieces no more than just a bit clay… yet cloisters holsters sprays and sprays… while indeed the worthiest longlash fashions the gray. running away takes more time… i guess

              rest

it was like destiny’s letters… cheavauh brawten… myriadical faucet (on) break-up patents, loose jean, palindromatic headdress on the lap of conclave…

‘just building, destroying miracles.. sorry worry-issue,  razing glass tubes with the fictitious friction, how so~ felicitous                                                         at mention… rented a co-op back to baccyus (too)      painted leisurical

   praytell

an oriented cat figured its way across my lap and sat  ‘correction, with articulation… and that, these

witchy-cat’s-eyes did stare at my frozen-folded slacks of worrisome pseudo turmoil - contingent on witches-cats’ body prompting hyphenetic enfolding upon, yet may not capture, the riding - crumpled - as i got up. and, yet let the yarn of her fretful sorcery fold mercurially into a snow man’s legs…which happened backwards…accidente’ ‘thought i might snatch my in-hand-done papers; plucked like a c string…out and on this same diaspora singular-editions… of which might defribulate a countenance leaving hooks cards’ on door knobs…quo now and forever, and with thinning trim as, whispering spurs dropped that witchy cat into the time-signature of my noumenal greeting prepositions to date, and all anti-slack band fashion - to temper to hands off and on… for instance I grasped the gnomon that i construed out of wrought natural materials, including but not limited to mangoes, caramel and magnesium… shaving the time…~ it wears like glue I had forth created the sheathing effect of its width set, scent, and scoal that is that time and time again cat’s are proven to exist forever… the scary-witch-cat caught up with me at the door harboring a big, black, bubbly cauldron-stir… with a peacemeal glance back at the forth chapter and muttered, just a bit, whetted. the air quickly jetted to phenomenal… what time was it, was it? i left my apothecary, things were looking up! soon to spread the time ah the settlling slug, the maniacal ant reserves the bald men selling rugs and the pills that people deserve…  - always awake yet - and feverishly asleep;  sleeping all the time away my undulations and motion-derivatives tart in series and sets complexed the fluish tenders of the herrendous heat tarp to act art contradictory veritas minutely and breathe hearty of the daze chalk if thats what is entailed - the job was simple yet met with some combattant like.

            - perhaps outside where the cigarettes burn;  platonic mnemonic, reindeer begged for antlers cash spent enroute to the spot, most of it traditional cat’s telephone machine… who knows?

 a semi-efficient compromise of plexiglass scratch flat - the vivid pock marks of the projector, which’s capacity was quite muddled. and the cat had it (either way) yet the cat call worked the cat, santa claus, some other big names… kicked a freestyle session, pretty dope stuff. for instance… “i bring you presence” that guy has way too much time on his hands.

   Houndstooth is soundproof

  1.         quay

1.tell everyone, the basement’s done flooding…

1.my house, a crumb within a flute sharps of embankments

1.patients testing lesser things for flooding or dried fish

1.“you’ll have yours”

1.“its windy outside”

1.the basement is whetted while i rinse through blades and shower my facial

1.while spirits sink from the comforter - morse code balancing, with this art

1.blinking, blinking, blinking…

1.stridents

1.0

1.kneedeep

1.‘back in the day, when i was young, i’m not a kid anymore’

1.

1.bliss crystals sift through stealth, miss you ‘xoxox’

1.

1.plagarize dexterity for another half-surmised

1.blur of the edges insofar fit for a fistful of life, twitch, came short and sought wife-

1.Those, curious pledges to deltoids, the -esiuz of the ledger

1.blasting surfeit in two lasting past the forth, fortnight eclipse…

1.you get to fight; aside a private glass of modern man’s ant-hill

1.some tvo granted chain of command through the grass blades,

1.

1.sit, fantasy, break, elven toxicology…speak worldly through a spasm i once had…

1.no doubt it would wash away in mineral deposits, so accursedly shallow… 

1.

1.

1.

1.

1.pressur

1.patches, on delt’s quay -

1.milk and chips…

1.chocolate on the mint press procedural stress

1.need so many…

1.

1.tell me about it,

1.abdicate

1.

1.

1.

1.

1.

1.

deltoid

i fell into a double-pronged - gift - marriot of song. play flacons fillial fish bladed oblong…merro sketched on sever audacity (semblance) with a crew-dillitant - as if fading hair to a nightmare of irrevocable capacity, to grow there…

poppin off, lots of toss, to the clouds though, the floss (ignoring bliss?) which topped my chart, on my single hit-or-miss mark… flakes of gentle seabass, of which it wash… bark bark! 

seriously took a reel in to exist…

chalk melted and bladed the number’s drawn on a pheonix,

of which was sent to bring her flowers? can you believe that, ‘girls in the shower’

metabolizing her voice, rainy day style opaque sky? cast me a derivative - oh ‘that.

coy, built, fahrenheit height, instant passion

the bastings

it truly is beautiful,

which does not

for some instance, at insinuating loss

most of all, the givance-

of tectonic call & calf

which tends to break ocean’s in full yet in half…

mildly tending an impish flame,

the fire texture, fixed-ie-feeling pane

and a flame, for all - yet the forth!

a myriad of haggus or something borne

blurring ant mimic in god’s resin - like an earthworm

nu

a notable fishhook… scraggled into my salmon… my salmon; port.

in don quiote’s fashion he swam on land, like a sailor; port.

a wednesday never came faster in the history’s of monday; though I don’t calm thence…

and an umbrella-spider taut, taught me spider-lingo: i was like, one cheese order…

a peacable reason to deal with whilst vacant… perhaps a book caught the fish, caught the grip, caught the sights, hit the port

2.         waltz

2.oh willow, play me crazy, breeze by my censorship on your trip up to a bird’s eye-spicate-spies-especially-willow in my eyes…

2.with each farther and ruse planted to ferment the lurch of dues, of perfect clot and tie, why don’t you turn to the appeasement of the highest skies in you 

2.they say

2.be forth written and climactic, aimed at with telephones, tilled derision, still precision, still precision and make marks sifting shifting sniffling, to , to mother, to bride bring down your own centre and break the sky… ive been there, many times

2.what will open the dice face, for miser, in fact, ive never seen a bead of it’s echo the perpetration of a perpindicular tie. 

2.start first and end where you began in fact, delineate between a restitution that each petal will latch; yet closest, the fountain needs tract, spritz and follow ornate heaven’s grasp…

2.blasphemy bounded and gave you a match!

2.… pluck a further moment with the lass, who brought sew… she writes, willow, oh you breezy, easy going, so-so. 

2.response edition 2

2.s’matter o’dillitant to the number 2

2.catoring brevity points for instant revery’ dilute with two thirds hair and rose…

2.i spose i could check the bars again,

2.

2.mine would be “diaspora co-lect’ my favorite make to model, yet i have one lingering rose point, stemming off and finding water in …well

2.

2.i just walked from here to tim hortons three times in 3 hours, thats prosaic dystolic for a fortress made of forgotten lure…

2.

2.tho’ yo’ spoiler, which stands accrued such as more luke warm cadmium.

2.playin safe here, the number, the winter, you forgot about me… iced percentages, that may melt

2.

2.no edit

2.‘past the point of g hosts’, a dendria lantern for my soul *i press the tip of clasp-broken oration to extend my thumb like a chapter, in the book of yet to put down (robert frost, selected poems) it moved my lighter into a rolled lighter, and right now i was ignorant of the place, where I watched, and what i’ve got. blink

2.20 fast minutes clocked a wall of brick to assail my placard heart, hearing art - and arabic insinuendoes… mesmerized by chalk…when? my knee placed my whole shoe, yet built with the shock, destitute rhythms i misused… i did not want to die, fore my word, lifts strong, then or now a peacable remission into what i thought cool lingo for was ‘friction’… and i stuffed my pecan dish with egyptian ecstacy bliss crystals’ remarks… plark, quarked down and through the nicest police car parlor with talk of being stopped. and there i was for 3minutes i was responsible for, divining my belief in stop…so awake… so awake… the ghosts sought a magistrate… i told my sister of mummy-eating practises in Egypt.. what saved me was television’s widest spectrumx2 tv… on TVO…. i i, and today, more subtle it was Ron Burgundy 2… 

2.

2.for the record, i prefer articulation to humour 4 times out of 5

2.

2.

2.

2.

2.double minks

2.the pharoah decreed: we shall not stop, till, there is a top… and with lightening fast reflexes Albert Camus later recites loop and/or ladder building as a mechanism distributed by mountains and rocks… that lead to an uphill battle, all around - yet more importantly - he with the thalidomide predominantly scare out the bliss that’s inside of us, mark, he felt the only logically question is…

2.

2.the pharoah walkled up to the ledge of his honour and a hissing snake caught his attention - waltzing primarily in its unyarned crinkle, and shushed it with great calamity… oh what a great calamity it was. and so, he, was, rejoiced~

2.the outsider l’etranger, excites a little snake into the forces of egyptian solitude, at a reasonable price…

2.

2.

2.

2.

a list of treason

a single wrinkle on the rose petal, arose such suspicion, roses’ thorn’d build failed to permeate…

a paschendale of artifact magic cards crinkled in the pack age… in jumps a soldat- of basketball-talent!

left remission for the hard-wood floors,

a list of treason

 —-bleek bloom

watching the 9:10pm its darker than most, clouded thou drought. thought-catching

a misty 9:30pm, conceptualized way far for enough backings baccus  flow like foam,

a wooded section of way back.

attaching to too petals, square like a orchid-skin-electric game-docket…

 3.         russians

3.braille she dots furtive longeurs parting…

3.into a frosted flute

3.braking and entering into the fury of a jazzman’s jazzhand

3.which came with a breathe of fury…. wasn’t, chapped-so

3.

3.quite why i had a myriad of worry

3.so surly to surely moresal-piece wear and tear the lury,

3.whilst penury from pencil tip equitable myriads of lury… into

3.questing for a stop-end bureau or bearer… to bust open the dirty, six-piece cylinder making shift shift shift shaft and lury…

3.and spin

3.

3.

3.a sizeable gap of educative dually provocative slurry, of a book!

3.and rampart the ignitable fruition of a head(strong) blasphemy out of order..

3.departed… roman,

3.arrived… prosaic,

3.middleman… Proxy,

3.-to the cause,

3.and manage the intern, pattern-stripped clasp of a low-riding pair of jeans’ilk

3.bludgeoned to malady, (my lady, my silk) myriad….

3.

3.

3.rare wilting sun of the sun… run with me, ‘till i see the pageantry, build… let alone a quill, that does

3.

3.

 stacked mind

i battled minutely and broke the index chapter-area-rearish and pristene in itself; that is an arrangment cloaked within a book’s barriers thinner than the thick letter-plaque, laced and unthinned; it didn’t get me down so much as to renew it, in fact, it seems like its gaining worth, like precious candy, i don’t know, obviously there is a worthier cause to incur growth, yet, none as sweet.

oh the smell - elemi - delicatesans’ sanitation with food… green, mini blade thickets…. ie. take some brick laying liasons… how meddlesome…and obstruct passage in libraries - and those the thought.

  turuses

oh its like we are entitled

to every fabric across from this foliage, even the varying fabrige undergrowth wrought of this, a mason's fable, nightmare or shovel

catch us

tracking a whirlwind of pollen as dust onto available petals

and i wonder, if any cross-pollinated beeless… 

and that bugle’s horn is to die for

submissive in pledges to and fro, discerning incoming autos

 ________

turuses

wrags

many…pennies-weight, within the jurisdiction of an edicette known to falter, pre-empts, plausible postulates of which, from all but one can hitherto alter. and yes you or you may have pennies for all the angles of a pressed coin, yet, emblazoning idols with them spastically hurdled through the air in one show of robust emblazoning, does not yield it’s capacity to promote growth against time. and against time is supremacy I guess forthwidth the renegade that it is… whatever bevels it connects eventually in surplus determines the surface of the moment a wrecking ball broke through; entrepreneurial, sadistic. Neitzsche’s “atavism” clocking in….

a direct line of command somehow got contraband…

r.i.p.

     4.         herbs.

4.a well, felt next to the smooth-shop, and rainwater doused it from time to time.

4.it fell upon the worthiest of the town, to stop and take some time.

4.at once one day,

4.a coin did break,

4.the surface of the water…

4.and just on time - or the clock that authored - it was surfeit with tea and proper.

super

cajolery

blazon, directory from the mashed out

maison, perfunctory list watchers, flout…

grazin’ perfunctory wist latchers, gout…

break the beak or break bread? i mean, what is the dire mutation doing now?

                safety

on a samosa of a backwards warpath, petty - perhaps pedestrian - recall from the HQ led Preston into the net structure and pronds of the opposite of oblivion, ‘eh sos goes for us all… by that mark…. engagement where, in the microscopic-frothing-tangiblity experiment-ecosystem, the variety of decedent in   ‘sublimated level 3″ unknown section to requisition note biene  , ‘a new verse of well-crystalized piety was tinging for recall as those Mills marbled the petrie-centre. some powder, of, magnesium, later; the very small, yet informed hallo-wentrepreneur took just under full form…element 7.5 tacked to his right wrist band with insignia from some government chap, beside~ it

before much, and before long, the thing surprisedly formed around one side of the dish and taut predictable effervescence… again, more much, same long. as it stands, a hatching period known to the subdivision failed to mention or document that this was subservience of the…device!? willing to form - and that it was taking shaped around the slight, circular concave that- thinning?-turning to water? which was growing in uniform metabolism… like the focal prism scratch on the refracted index… element 7.5, has been recalled, ad diminue’ pro quo, and as deciduous’ are pronounced, tangled - appropriately - into the vacuumed perforations of the topiary inert proficiency of shell-like…larger than usual octopus vessels…

 str

beyond progress within the computer mainframe and it’s strictly-digital capacity to preface backing up several attempts to testify -  these as experienced coherent hackers - sent a rumikab of articles (known as an infinitely singular testament) wheeled light… gyro-cryptic, ‘shells, had a light disco sliding through the avenue fresh with baking soda and drink… blotches of small resisters; which accounted for the eerie glow, tilt-pink. i pieced together the sata and its particle party-favour cable… instant spring…

        stand tall

placid it sits; a remonstrance, in the midst… of what-is-it? that of where the best cherry blossom hath splits… cider says hard: its the pits, the fits, the ritz russet-dark cherry molasses tis’ it for a list of super nintendo-binding dualisms to exist,, so jinxed…ummm it would take minxs to douse themselves - and we’ve two shots at this… quick, as a back up, before a tail up, yet ipso-facto… elastic like that of dopamine to endorphins perhaps yet the cherries ferry chariots and arrive in focal piety…the pits,  again! we sit with the cherries across the fence. to climb, to the condensation-swine-rhetoric, sits… uhh, blimp? clenched like a rinsed hand, i grab the retrograding-officiated root, and route my right foot for the first elbow of a live one… pinching 2 bundles of hoodlum-ante and jump down and then to eat them… the cabbage-like puncture, to just graze the centre, piece, tincture of light vinegar…. and He’s cleaning the eavestrough for another… on second chomp, a brandish of sheer pheromone, thigh… spots a ladder to the shed and fro… before i brandish another, i’ll throw the rest in my pockets to rest - professed to cherish! yes, they’re unbreakable… —————hey you, where’d you get those… like he didn’t know?

      eucalyptus

I”ve gots a shallow for-aloe, wound, wound from malpractise already, 

my atlas stabbed my marble backward ‘back gammon theism, with warding capabilities crestfallen to thee tree, and it’s galvanized antissory film decay’a’wedding with the moisture involved in distraught dust and underage car… my first wishes was to dish wash the woven bovine roving of a uut disorganizing pallete entrepreneur in sevens… yet when i arrived tango, it was obviously a “jericho” moment, and i clicked the six six six… my emblem was duty; payed.

 (mind on plinko, straight shooter on the hip) -turuses which has x2 paved the way for an astral projection that’ll guide me into the centre of the known solistice - forever just a teem - to deserve uut zero inert… inertia to a rotisserie clocked, rocketflag tango. Bounced that check ‘thralled, in specs. flekked one gold - the army stock in check, slivered to the dentist cuz i swallowed a praying mantis- at best and was the width of elastic band with working man’s best specs… perhaps>>> might need to run through a bit more radial arguments in the past; to, durst, deposit seriousness in my clay-abiding ipso-nouns, pro-abiding, to send in my resume of duality when it comes to rooting out clowns! thanks for the lovely slug you set loose on my concrete slab… x

                     Set’till

contralto vivified in plurality reign to indict the heart ache of such departure sparks in-dissent the friction of smart boxing, in three fold. a diorama 

from

the pandering window, maybe the soda water crystals aside at my desk. Sometimes its good to hear about perfect leisure, when the legions are brass-steel self-alleged

   i use to be quite a pro with pencil-spinning, and its strictly from my heart, the art that begins with pencil-rinsing… oh, i gave mechanical pencils something to believe in. doesn’t matter, twas a glorious match up of mechanical pencils, and spinning them, that i partook in. clad in an unsharpened… no question…

 bark

a larger than normal tarantula poised to eat a small tree outside the restrictive park area came to the conclusion that, if he had studied medicine, he might have enjoyed eating sooner.

who knows?

              title wave

darling loss, providing hosts with mothballs, independent of cause… the objection of walls corrects its paucity - dash costs… and in betrothal of sauces, paints - if thats what you call them - a dish, is left… cold fish… best viewed with a hook

its all wrong, maudlin fathoms, deep brilliant eyes of squid… the watch of witches in the crow’s nest, explode, then make fire for fish 

        the ice has originally melted - that, thin straw stout route to two too nihilist dire platforms of the underaffected that are down for precedence, that be: ignorance, either side of the fence with indescribable turmoil already, or even just because of the actions which seem impossible; and a strict mouthpiece, within limited to authority, via sanctioning and the underfunded promises therein…  yet… as Mephistopheles has it, logic lasts till the last sentence… and the USA is in jeopardy 

 order some CATs to skulk around and sit and dig

tunnels to offshore…? trenches from spawn fly some jets in there if it helps with aerial footage perhaps isolates of pressure. ie. lots of liquid nitrogen! & even some type of bomb….. i know, bomb a hurricane w/ convoys of concrete trucks and/or logs

 yet my venture permits both lines of caring to be merry, i was ready to say fish may need to swim onland for some reason and no that doesn’t help anybody, studying where fish are during so might be beneficial…same thing with people…helicopters!

makeshift trailer bridges? leaving taps on? gtfo of there? the final clue is: where would you like to live? and, the answer: florida

    bitter stasis

why is it the sand gold? speakth before’n to see the moulds: grazing iguanas claim, climb, clad the folds, where ‘ and all the little pharoah scald with drolery- it must be the summer-line, crossing into the spill, long-horn, to horn, to horn exploding instruments turn to soil and nefarious- deltoids rest in summer-line wrest,

and as I am for ease of etching…sorry,  possibly just saw a necklace-peice of a pendent permeate itself into an anubis coat-  of- strictly fashionable-that-some-green,  which as the light accustom brown-pouting was incandescent at best,   maximized i, its deliverance as a frosted-scarab… motionless, iceberg of fabric from the mathematical subscriptions limited upon brick face, to seize armiture as one and one, yet but not captured… either purpose or meaning… tbc

               pick me up twice

that and a night drought came in with a robust, roving massive darkness; across spanning over the minute divits of thunder clods, over this land gratefully, without its gander of low pressure; finally welcomed where the lakefront promenade - municipality to mine own - met the lake. i heightened up and spritzed the window to a cramp. like i say its not everyday one can live among confused feathers and disco lamps. i sped to my notebook and sketched the nuthatch i saw dabbling the air - like my vision was relegated to all and/or most of the movement in the bands - of sleevefilled horizon lines and the figurines. the hedges here to there, the short paved escape, the trees; flanked so-on forever, and the firmament.  yet it moved fast, twas twice as vast, iconoclast clear skies bank where aroused was a shaky 5pm red sun- only visible now and so-where, a wind picked up and doused the downed whiskey rinsing through some impossibly pretentious banter, along the shore.

               diagonally

it hasn’t even been a lock since my prized synced sundial ammended even blacksmith’s blind… the twilight hour… a still rather elliptical - outfit of my lot’s labor had I could sense turning a final austerity and gently top-heavy field gamon alotting that which continues moderate growth without locusts. at first its like watching a fire, then they settle down around 4:00am. but thats neither here nor there. unless you count the visits I get from Samson I get at all hours. and here we shall share him odd on envoy particular. reticent, self-evident.. my weather vane was drowsy so and so… wishing it could give me a clear patch as a black horse stamped with rider and pulled up… at the hour of 10:00pm Thelma made him a scarlet blend of herbal tea, I the same. Upon courtesy I seated him in my study and we both had at some fresh lemon tobacco. “how are the yellow and red water?” “fresh coal, have you another blend?” “why yes.” I fetched a Drumson Wood and asked Samson, “how long will you stay?” “Oh, just on my way back from town.” Samson took out a newsprint partially twisted in his back over-all pocket. “I’m gonna lay it straight for those aliens.” “…The crop circle people?… they seem vengeful and organized…” “More Drumson Wood, and I’ll just finish this tea here. I say, a price on their heads…” Samson pulled out the page, “seems a group of people do the circles too in order to show the ‘aliens’ we are intelligent too, near the back, smaller part of the publisher, called locustfocus.” “Why that’s as clever as it sounds.” “it says here we’ve seen the last of them this season, or they’re spreading, ready to ground.” “so what am I to do? What are we to do?” “stay vigilant. drink tea. in the extra fine print it says they are a judgement call, a reflection tranmorgified, a mirror as transition through life can only manage, all run by those who use livestock, those who value life.

            onew one

its so noiseless that i ask you nobody knows this if i left without a trace to let loose my face,

existence, would start with thee last left bashful eyelash by alibi that to leech around a winding hill of coal at rest and, yet when abreast two fifths fine grass, and a wine glass, broke at home

finishing with an invisible penny for twisting, an oasis reminding me that im out one seashells finding colored beigh with patina of five sevenths temple displacement that striking up on mine own binds of

where my eye is a filament for the engrossment of ‘those’ others - skeptically close- but don’t you know you were never one to run away, from the salted roads

                    hey cold warm 2

I was on the brink of falling asleep, late and complacent on the couch in the front - for once one floor above the basement. My eyes slightly jumped open now and then, revealing - honestly - the life that played with myself and the scene… Decorations abounding around the walls and shadows from all that was seen. On one extended viewing of the partially lit walls covertly at the door - the indigo ceiling melting into normal orders - did buckle and remotely douse me with ubiquity and order of operations to discretion in architecture, the culpability of movement arrayed. my blanket in disarray - knit and white - became a sleeper’s foyle as it reigned on me as ordinary occurence; yet this, I was deeper.

why yes, the blocks of ceiling, my ballast; window and furniture, shifted, all to make something, something I either slept through or woke up suddenly into subriety - and had come about from all my condescension, with an expedient opt to reassign the ceiling to whatever it was. That know I knotted locales and a opaque ceiling.

My eyes began doubting the stillness, several times. My best guess was a moving candle operative, of fairy or pixie dissent, ushering me into the basement through the vent… the comfort from the blanket growing exponentially, I jarred my eyes, feigning fright. at which the ceiling came bearing down on me and started a lament for the rug in front of the door… I swear I wanted to move; somehow I just knew I was not in the malady of a malevolent being, perhaps just proverbially and most likely - an impish flame rekindling from closed eyes’ near blind, and sallow angles reshaping…

I had been in this purgatory gearbox, for an hour or two… I waited for the birds to chirp. when the candle went out… it was now well-past midnight hour and I lay in the darkness, comfortable, yet partial to wakefulness. I lit another candle… the indigo folds, the impish flame, the blanket, all the same

There it was… the first bird chriping like a lovely siren.f

   hey cold warm

a brazen on the barometric deep in the throat of recognition, plumes in loose flute position, angled a slolom solemn, so-seam - so-so - slotting into my lower chest, such as do dotted candy strips and just as memorable as the swindle mentioned specifically its the purple opal octagonal-pointed and the brunt cindrous dazzling cinammon my eyes yet its dark

arising phase I flew on land, a kite that racked from a bird’s nest in the clouds… angels… swiftly upon me eleven albatrosses came down I"m like, “where’s the waitress?” once as was thought, I throttled the full-armor-car-aft-facade on quickwork-flat blatant dune backing up to pull the chord down “all this from from the former backseat the lower order keeping distracted with menial attempts at diction    drifting through the world, there she was,     she cast a thoroughfare glistening aura,      beside - on the board walk

Guage of an arrow, splinted roughhousing nothing more to climb, cherries full and waiting - and flagstone, drops in x. waiting for labels

razings’ dreams    drifting through the world… heralding minutely, and casually on a mini skateboard, albatross full foyle ~ about. most - some pure coasting,.., buoyantly why I mean Cinderella had some natural artifice actually restricting limitation the wake of sheer wind, her able lateral shark of compute, which limiting more but hair it just comes to some things thats shes just into and really, across, where onto the window my reflection plucked my core,

the flagstone remorse. searching distance.

"check them, check them.” the limits that attest to, ward, all those feesible mentions… in both edges of a carrion dispositions of regret now, now… I’ve pent the stencils to be filled in and over with ink, the nets can’t even capture prize still frames to sync can’t even think in the now its so quick - the odd neglect cubism tares cares to fasten - yet? so -  so finish quick

~moon cycle had i

it gets predictable the miserable  the madness talent and those who wrap the falcon’s beak around and break the brow from beaten artists,  (going )far'n finite for    marbles quark, florid fauna, fond of a final fantasies for real, just how those are where those naught (reached…) phantoms lanterns saturn asprin a symposium where shadows’ riot for platony, create a credenza of its spectrum, a two-something measure of disparity insofar as he who was brought pox inequal pressed-to silhouettes  of rockness frets, yes, sir, thats rounded-edges-talk of  fast-misery wave-technology all-so spaced out like emaciated chocolate or space cadets… spying loch ness even the uneven

!54   104

as will lace’d rivulets of feathers felt into italic line, become barbarous against a feverish fire where no friction echoes of finite time  perhaps already forgotten there own make marking burning - like this very poke - spokes of wind super-tropical winnding and,

nothing but glorious ignition as soon as bent backwards…to the ground, from the grind, as iconic rivulets of home break apart the hands… and posit… pheonix seeds, brought to term in ff7 to plant and plead with reality sometimes…

130

to sew the wounds up… my hand to play the part of spoon, hook, ransacking tolerance. I, with swoon in hand and maudelin talent  even if i make a pamphlet on benelovent rancor, someone’s prediliction might ignore the horseshoe plants still stiff as to lay on my to-do list as one thing to hand out once its… in print and then wander into the abyss. till vastness becomes iconoclastic and I last this matress out till its endoplasmic reticulum becomes a magnet, and then on until it fractures, and polarity shifts, do it all backwards, with stronger magnets

farther into the w

breaking broke stuff that’ that satellites back-up flashes that sound as diamond scratches on doctor’s recommendations I vaccine some dollar bills for entertainment crystals - thats non-nickel-cadmium adjacent the cinema with her

just flashin’ against the line

I broke through the borrowed past, presented myself - bounced on calves… neck nexus to the side panorama first strident, an attack secondly merely contender ballast dear hearts with the task of fast or faster.

assured,

                    entry 3

Journal Entries in Blood Part three I went out to the market at midnight tonight, just to look around. A howling the other day made me think there might be a stray dog or wolf or something. I could probably train a wolf couldn’t I? The shop was dim though the neon open sign still cycled, coupled with metal bars and the lock, I somehow found my way home, and then it was… a howling, not of wolf, but of upset life or wind. It grew closer with another, then it stopped. My eyes were out like a dog, not a wolf, surveying the area for something other than leaves twisting attached to branches. I started my way home, a different way this time, I ate my trailmix and made safely to this attachment. It is nearly waking hour, and there it is again.

                       new new 1

i reckon there was a coast about 20 seconds ago, the earth drops’ moon cycle

i left without a trace to let loose my face, by alibi that to leech around a wind of fine grass, a wine glass, broke at home reminds that im out one seashells find that striking up on mine own binds of my suitcase working my shovel into an ovendouble shift one for mistakes, one for muscle… and one for miscellanious my find was called a jarhead and was for strictly  pure profit in the warbly march sand and soil at this time of night

yes, yes here, where fleeting doesn’t cost - anything - except the loss of a waist here and there, below the flaying gargoyles which embed one’s soul lies some treble conspiracy quo and today in cue stone, turnt to evening fire cutters, even welcomed evening grace, and i don’t see it happening any other way

little foggy, like always probably won’t rain, but i’ll jog if it gets on me… twenty past a single digit, and drunk mates had made a religion to stop me… not on my map, they don’t even know where i live systems down, this was hardly… what you would get out of me.. like always i shutter and i see a zombie, it’’s me

        new new 2

i reckon there was a coast about out and abrupt up about 20 seconds ago, the earth drops’ moon cycle had it different

on land. oh how!   docking reminds that im out one seashell - my first boat - and up around $1000 each toss of the new one. for that striking up on mine own binds - of my bane suitcase - working my shovel into an ovendouble shift one for mistakes, one for muscle… and one for miscellanious a net growth my find was called a jarhead and was for strictly  pure profit in the warbly march sand and soil at this time of night ‘that in treasures found scintillating matches, sparks, and clods

yes, yes here, where fleeting doesn’t cost - anything - except the loss of a waist here and there, below the flaying gargoyles which embed one’s soul lies some treble conspiracy quo and today in cue stone, turnt to evening fire cutters, even welcomed evening grace, and i don’t see it happening any other way

little foggy, like always probably won’t rain, but i’ll jog if it gets on me… twenty past a single digit, and drunk mates had made a religion to stop me… not on my map… they don’t even know where i live systems down, this was hardly his heart, always bound… what you would get out of me.. like always i shutter and i see a zombie, it’’s me

 one one

its so noiseless that i ask you nobody knows this if i left without a trace to let loose my face,

existence, would start with thee last left bashful eyelash by alibi that to leech around a winding hill of coal at rest and, yet when abreast two fifths fine grass, and a wine glass, broke at home

finishing with an invisible penny for twisting, an oasis reminding me that im out one seashells finding colored beigh with patina of five sevenths temple displacement that striking up on mine own binds of

where my eye is a filament for the engrossment of ‘those’ others - skeptically close- but don’t you know you were never one to run away, from the salted roads

                    zrunning

breaking broke stuff that’ that satellites back-up flashes that sound as diamond scratches on doctor’s recommendations I vaccine some dollar bills for entertainment crystals - thats non-nickel-cadmium adjacent the cinema with her

just flashin’ against the line

I broke through the borrowed past, presented myself - bounced on calves… neck nexus to the side panorama first strident, an attack secondly merely contender ballast dear hearts with the task of fast or faster.

I lick my pen against the flower to appear chic yet damage nothing… How subject - of abstraction - forms torque on normally debatable craft ending, mending within art’s perametre; thus stated reverence, may exceed instead of submit to vision - though limited - image which is contrary in most cases, hitherto where this percent of contraction may hold true in reverse for cubism garullously settling upon it’s true form…

            sober slurry

a puzzling equivalent - unto which i know of at very least twofold - habilitated itself with my side order of large onion rings…to go was and will be, cheddar jalapeno dip, oh, and a bottle of soda, a small pricey one…  it seems these were on side as i gazed at the game sippin on my gazzeiu, that of the way over yonder to the other half of the staggering petition to heresay glee club mods who say no and who’d attribute new age convention with extremely age’d tradition… bless them. and their future seeds

      nor zeus, nor he be the king of wizards, and poseidon - damned to eat plankton, that i relish eating wagon wheel cookies

— 

turuses

       curiously appetizing

I passed the telephone company’s brick building on the way back (like always) and like always it caught my glance (and probably, properly stored my electrolytes’ dot product in it’s heaving face) 

I couldn’t fit inside the telephone machine building. for some reason, the telephone, had it in for me! yet, after 3 hours i sit by it’s ‘therefore’, wondering… why i must get inside this telephone.

               soma

a riddle what starts with a middle four fretting that is, not ice cream, yet just as meddlesome when together between them specimens vary very robust, that is when not brushed… you can pick it up some say you can master it, some do as a clutch rapport, and clash together, with so much but sport. some think silence can take hold of the being… calming astronauts and marrying marigold flocks all abandoning the forge of earthly locks… consuming this tug of war with this rebel heart

destined for back pane, yet strained resonating with two thumbs on next whatever that may mean its suspect to a violence sometimes only ascribed to in old folks home, where the bloods been beaten hot and that 

                  outer space

fare long freight to dim dimensions rate penchants whilst trenches, in… a way.. never saw them coming yet hospitals frost the tips fitness and fair stipulation lips conjugation of list - equivalent -  while separation wiles, stat-wiley over intact, nothing - like platitudes dilution of concrete blocks add attitude yet painful memories by diminished blocks are subdued?

        wool

Oh, it’s certain… hundred-thousand militant measures of a broken yard by metre (estranged for the reader) a meteor shower amends the broken pleasures of such a Neapolitan attack on the criticism for the cynicism had me open! Yes, oh my… plenty coin-like credit-card-scam-brilliance, sign the marks on my frail, weathered effacement into a blithering commensurate, yet forever emblematic union of staccato! The moon, was following me yet, and As I had sprained my ankle, I were had to, run over roots, scurry past pledges, that with a fluid limp-jump… mildly hopping over tracks, which my upper-back, caught on to splayed roots on the ground… as to be seen, wildly kicking up the scarce twig and twixt, ‘and anon: oxygen millennials - when and where necessary my powers of narration became anaesthetised and somehow configured itself somewhat, that into an old VHS tape conception format. After a little tracking the odour of odium prices on wolf masks with that plastic diffraction slips And the moon by the window, cocked it’s wonder-gun at me, Pleasure of unthinkable amounts, resting in negative, all conceived

   v.1 “lemon tree”, postaged bout 10 days, (lemon-earth days)

sallow / pallor

it must be the burnt lemon tree fall upon us solid-crysallids of almondine kiss and please, never let go of this almond fists’ criss-cross lisp to hold boiling fugue it is that the dusky forever’s took a tan gentle shrub enough of a lover’s hug wild at first yet plunging into cupid’s burning lungs o, that sweet passion, to be thy mouth of windless notion… promontory, flora where to end thy’s pursed-when, or  begin, what fond of recoil and jettison-nonplus we’ve bout begged to dine at its smouldering tartine  plagued with ragged snakes and flame to please for the sakes of this lonely burnt lemon tree I’ll assail all with what the burnt lemon takes to consume

   dendrose

1 this is for that usury,

used to be     awake, censorship encumbered-package, usually~ Asleep,             clad in yesterday’s haze, beep, beep, beep first to rise, which just happens to be a phase… 6, clock, spearmint 6:15, cries. 2 identical clock cavities, brustlin’ busts of oven-cannot, trallop suites… I’ve officially dye-cast silver from coin to sweat, wheat and parametres, of which i’ve never spoke! 3 down by the second leap of day’s scales, the moon’s lymph tickle, play trick on the sicler…  ‘say Death creeps out like how it does North Farther… ‘say don’t be scared of the ion, curtain, cascades… they say they break soon enough, that is                                                                  as the iris tissue combusts!

4 and the parliament in laymens, rise like spite, muscly, and whelk; totally combobulated enough to qualify for thalidomide and seeing wealth. documents privvy to a living type of surrepititious musical scale.

5 around noon, the shops are broken into, the salad’s tossed, the forks, mashed in the gravy… without the sauce… stocktips holdfast like plateaus - how pleasant - bout the size of a yogurt…  rain flares out of specifics… and barbers, leave there parlors… cars park - forward and backwards! 6 round about now the static combs diagonals,   slate and tie, like an Egyptian wedding order for two,  who killed you, and how you survived… 7 soon enough one must become one, and it always may… if i had to I would pat your heart a lullaby in your mummified chestplate just to be certain that I could breathe ~somehow.

8 its safe now for the mystriant, or the leader clad in torn bloody clothes in plain deniable site… to march upon the moons tumultuous creators,  now maybe high noon                                      all night.

     just x 3

(bystand…)s are outnumbered by and yet while the juri is in… weather the atmosphere is tight enough, expediant and gruesome for the sudden fog! !oh what a sudden fog! plus, the lust for cummulative lush and hush, of, flesh, rut rooted room for relish, oh, im out of legalities to logician’s flexfit fever, ferver-fluish…                                 “rabbitfoot-talisman” and, that they are

    at least     for now     and sheesh     I couldn’t count all these…

maudlin, vaudvillian pleats and hill battling in fleets, bleeding the tattle, in thieving the leaves,     as this somehow presents itself,     in a waltz within the season -

whilst, some reassuring sequence that thy betwixt bane and bosom, slaying, and slalom straight, out the demonic cellar of  Helen Keller, ~looking for a piece of plastic - bendy, black -  whilst sweating through tissues as would molasses !oh quite reluctant~

just to envelop the feasting concept in enamel-persona, that, “looks”, could be a snug fit as slang for glasses!oh

well, no match for shelves or sleeves in it among mashed-out color additives, “Madvillain” - trapped like tylenol packages… just too, pry that thing off my sling, slang sugar rifle, .35s to just need to carry this for triflin’ broken-oxen+wrought-trophy, a token for the inert.

marching through the swampy mud

          balm

~a drag with bisquick, mistaken. a martyr broken, out spoken a pledge  ‘though,’ mystics saw - in blind pageant -  that it had been coming, the change in self / perpetual melting (maybe even wealth      and static (theduality ))(- of practise expedient…) patient momentum  quite like:                 eddies now, that tend to slop up off with the the prophets.’ toxicity and all textures on hand! mesmerism-synthesizing-metabolic, clox                  “A tall tail of uncommon fixtures to abed the solstice!” Ail uncommon Oxbridge- flyers…

who! ~ never saw this it coming - it, being.  antithesizing avec beau shashay - passing by  -round noon -,a  slash a dash of anti-septic aid from the atmospheric changes )oh what a terrible 1 haiku )                             2 cacoon cannot forget the forfeit with a timurus attendant addendum of excess lemonade, -the patchy landing on cobblestones as a final order of direct ability to access sweet lemon merange pie! so cold! slay the dragon Oh, how moylent  whoa, whoa, whoa dragon wings circled, moving more tweaked than lofty, that the shady concentric, crown-ambulent missletoe fleers stocatto flamed resisting arrest,  sat down to rest on the ashy rooty charred bark deposit, chalk outline and all. And he seemed to pout, resting in his petulance, all on final penguin-feat exhuming the fallen lemon tree + roots Why? The sky - a death sentence, yet the crestfallen three-dimensional tilt of matter integrity beaming so honest from the sky’ now just past noon, sliding through like a dull lens (ingenuity), christened expedia! as and sent through the bloody-rack of fossilized hub temperature, gaily enjoying and blasting & mashing hulls lithosphere to the dragon, for now. the size of one third day, tending in an ache, forced tired like ambulances, and breaking off chips of lemon rinds like toothpaste…. oh! perambulating fonder chest cavitity status by chasing marche,’ strips, off commonly dragon mouth chaste stasis places, ready to eat pate’ and break blades off a graceless fairy ring,  situated for bleak outlooks with its correct gargoyle smile missletoe at every sharp corner and as it was granted that this crystallizing dead tantrum of claws, wings, thighs, to be scaled for consumption 

        boe-loose

it crumbled like cartlidge, brisky-brisk then nonchalant at its content - ever so rich, in, conch shell whistleblowing labella, labelled able in its lapel to cache and cast a spell,  upon which the worthiest pearl-whirring, cat-nip tail made for cats, some effect… for people, zizing - and whizing the cats backwards-bats… out of hell, surprisingly distasteful… cruella deville

perhaps atrocities, within the minds of these pilfered oddities by the hundreds, take malnurish me,  on second thought its usually redundant asunder opposition to Gravity that spots of wine cause catastrophe

flying, like snails at a clean stop operation ~loosed from the grave

                    topsicology

the scarecrow glided past as apostacy towards err. perhaps more than air. the long corn crops gilded the found floundering stare-off. perhaps more wispy than fair…  the greatest movement jackal, basically all impaired… just waiting in its frothy, slow-growth to find a child or conjugate terror why, ‘see that, I am a child of burden,  sent from ion ridges and whisked past ice-sturgeons with respect to facilitate the growth - that in tandem - sent into the proximate atmosphere for a slow-burning ‘till its torn apart, and till its worn to wrought all a vision a scarecrow, which rends his smarts, filled totally gut of surroundings, and one day imparts a version of itself, which had lorn to lock, but had to step down from the part.

                               bark

a larger than normal tarantula poised to eat a small tree outside the restrictive park area came to the conclusion that, if he had studied medicine, he might have enjoyed eating sooner.

who knows?

[airoasis]

Why I Choose Bitcoin Cash

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/why-i-choose-bitcoin-cash/

Why I Choose Bitcoin Cash

I prefer a Peer to see digital money over the whole lot. Correct now the first-class form of this comes in the form of Bitcoin cash, which holds the ticker BCH on virtually all exchanges. My title is Collin Enstad, i’ve lived in the USA my entire lifestyles. I am a freelance director / cinematographer / steadicam operator. I first heard about Bitcoin in 2013 in the course of its bubble, the place it peaked at $1200. I consider my first purchase was once around $one hundred fifty however I only bought a bit bit, as much as I might find the money for being a broke school pupil. I made some cash and purchased matters with it, like this bizarre digicam rig. Of course part of the adoption of bitcoin is brought about via men and women speculating trying to generate income off of it. But i noticed I had actual utility, I could use it as money. An investment that’s liquid as hell. Excellent. I requested an harmless query in late 2015 on the uncensored bitcoin subreddit, /r/btc: ELI5: Why achieve this many individuals insist on a small block size?. I got first-rate answers, similar to Blockstreams function in taking up the progress, how Peter Todd remains to be seeking to these days to kill 0-affirmation transactions, and how the Core devs have been proscribing the bottom layer to push a 2nd one that they claimed would be even higher than the actual blockchain.All of these aspects nonetheless maintain proper to nowadays. I even respect a number of the names within the thread from again then with persons I still speak to in these days. I even had some put up calling out theymos, the king of censorship, round this time. How things have no longer transformed. The extra I dig up the more obvious the manipulation of public opinion. Once more, this was once in 2015 this was all being called out, 4 years ago. Thats close to 1/2 of bitcoins lifetime. Crypto is really just politics, but on a time scale which appears hundreds and hundreds of times faster.I was once continuously a huge blocker. 1MB is tiny. Its less knowledge than a 2d of this video. It gave the impression a majority of the community back in 2015 was once for bigger blocks too. How a small crew of Core developers took over and sabotaged the bitcoin experiment with never-ending small blocks will be rather the exciting case be taught in historical past class. Im nonetheless seeking to utterly wrap my head around how Gavin, the character Satoshi entrusted with the keys to the bitcoin code, used to be pushed out and ostracized for looking the logical answer, higher blocks.Its a narrative that takes a long time to tell, and entails a false Satoshi. Im currently engaged on a feature size documentary about the shitshow that’s bitcoins history. The real down and dirty bitcoin politics, no longer some loud mouth troll showing up on tv spouting nonsense. So the fork happened in August 2017 and the large block version, Bitcoin cash, didn’t win over the hearts and minds of traders. Instantaneous ridicule from the Core persons ensued, as used to be par for the path. Bcash is trash was once their mantra, in an try to rip the word bitcoin out of its name. Now take into account, theymos fairly ramped up his censorship on /r/bitcoin in 2015. Reddit used to be THE spot to talk bitcoin, and theymos actions make him, individually, the only greatest affect on this whole Scaling warfare. Go to any publish from again then about theymos increasing moderation and appear at how many individuals vehemently adverse it.One of bitcoins most important residences is censorship-resistance, however apparently whenever you go away the protocol layer you additionally abandon all of its ethos. When your methods hotel to silencing the opposition you understand your arguments aren’t on stable floor. If they were, they might let all of the dissent come their approach and evaporate before them in the face of truth. However no. The block and ban buttons are used as a type of religious piety. This itself was once a tremendous red flag that some thing used to be wrong with Bitcoin. As a latest concrete instance of manipulation, My ultra-modern video criticizing the lightning community was once the top put up on /r/btc, except every week historic news story broke in regards to the Twitter CEO, Jack, purchasing a hardware pockets all of a sudden unseated it. This Jack story was once in a antagonistic sub and it won the highest spot in an hour. Mods deleted the submit shortly after. The account had a history of vote botting. Proof Of Social Media. Par for the course for those against peer to peer money. And this this is the place I just get angry.BTC does no longer work as a trustworthy form of money, but its still pushed on unsuspecting noobs, many who now go to the bcash sunday service. These social media influencers have 10s of hundreds of thousands of followers that they preach the nice word to absolutely this many folks wouldnt listen to any person who was just basically unsuitable! This market is immature and albeit, just dumb. I really awoke to all of this when instantly I was paying $1 for a transaction rate in early 2017. This isn’t what I signed up for. My money will have to not disappear every time I need to move it. When Bitcoin cash forked, I was all in, actually with my nonetheless tiny stash and figuratively from an ideological standpoint. Does this provide me investment bias? Almost always, however again, Im now not talking tremendous cash right here.Irregardless, I do my research and its the one coin i can confidently put my cash in. I do know what it is trying to do is the reason bitcoin was created in the first place, which is what once more? Oh yeah, to offer each person in the world an possibility to be their own bank. To give humans the potential to transact with anyone in the world with out the necessity of a 3rd celebration, even if they make not up to $2 a day. That is bitcoin. I kept diving deeper into the rabbit hole. Undoubtedly each person couldnt be this deluded however they were. Advocating for the shrewd factor of raising the blocksize and how BCH is a reliable variation of Bitcoin on social media has been tiring. I dont know the way a few of these trolls are so lively and simply hostile.I grew up with the web, part of the primary iteration that had social media for his or her whole middle and excessive institution experience. However these bitcoin guys man, the most poisonous i have ever seen. You have to have thick epidermis when you even believe about having impartial idea in crypto. Its sad. I haven’t any doubt there are individuals whose full-time job it is to sow up disagreement and strife within people who want to see Bitcoin be the arena money. Theres even proof of In November of 2017 I made a industrial for BCH with the support of the Bitcoin money association. It used to be a excessive high-quality industrial in a barber store which showed bitcoin getting used as cash. Response from the group was once nice, and i located myself in Tokyo a pair months later shooting the Satoshis vision convention, where a few of the Bitcoin cash group attended.I interviewed lots of the prime leaders in BCH for the period of that point interval for my documentary together with Craig Wright. This man appeared to come out of nowhere and was once a large suggest of Bitcoin cash. He had charisma, unquestionably, even when his Satoshi claims have been iffy. I consider the BCH neighborhood sided with him on account that he was once so anti-core. An enemy of an enemy is your buddy. And on the grounds that this buddy was very aggressive and outspoken in the direction of the purpose, many were inclined to let his shadiness slide.However very quickly after this convention actual bitcoin devs, who in reality work on and comprehend the bitcoin protocol, began calling him out on his lies. It was once rough to confess youd been duped, but right here we all are. Then, of direction he forked off into his possess coin months later, and his fraud lives on. Then comes the altcoin arguments. For those who dont like BTC so much simply use nano? Dash is the real peer to see cash! Lol noob do you even cardano? Well, considering BCH has the identical transaction historical past relationship again to the genesis block in 2009, one could argue the distribution of the coin is more decentralized than any of the altcoins, due to the fact that it has been around the longest.Im a strong believer in Proof of work as well. Even though BCH has a lot less hashpower than BTC, it has been shown how a gigantic portion of hash would transfer to BCH in safeguard of a malicious actor, like we noticed within the hashwar. The miners like Bitcoin money, however they generally follow gains, and this means mining BTC and BCH on the same price as the fee ratio between them. Now that BCH is free from its former crippled blocksize, most things the altcoins can do, BCH would enforce itself. Even things just like the lightning community would work muchhhh higher on Bitcoin cash as a result of the small charges to open and shut channels. Bitcoin was once intended to be the one crypto that ruled all of them, absorbing the quality altcoin facets. Vitalik Buterin found out this was no longer the case to any extent further, and he ran off to make Ethereum in 2015 after a lot combating with the Core devs. So right here I to find myself, in March 2019, nonetheless a supporter of Bitcoin cash. That you may believe the creative and grassroots power of individuals who just wish to construct. I hear the Bitcoin OGs say its the same spirit that bitcoin had it in its early days.Persons that CARE about making bitcoin exceptional again. And of path, the small blocks made building apps problematic for devs, because the excessive charges and sluggish confirmations might disable some functions who relied on inexpensive and speedy transactions. Full blocks rationale unreliability. And if youre a dev and need to construct an app, why within the hell would you use a base protocol that can instantly price $50 for a single use. If BCH stops being the excellent type of P2P money, make no mistake, i’d drop aid. Im no longer a blind follower and am at all times watching to mission my beliefs. Tokens, Decentralized handles, Badger wallet, suggestions.Cash, CashShuffle, Satoshidice the record goes on. So many of those projects are simply now hitting the Bitcoin cash market, and wallets are looking to catch up and implement these elements as speedy as they may be able to.Its nonetheless early in Bitcoin Cashs development existence, and the power within the community is the equal one I felt once I first received into it, vibrant, filled with hope for a greater future, and now with an added tenacity to make certain that no dangerous actors can once once more spoil the imaginative and prescient of Peer to look cash for the complete world. .

[batterymonster2021]

Why I Choose Bitcoin Cash

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/why-i-choose-bitcoin-cash/

Why I Choose Bitcoin Cash

I prefer a Peer to see digital money over the whole lot. Correct now the first-class form of this comes in the form of Bitcoin cash, which holds the ticker BCH on virtually all exchanges. My title is Collin Enstad, i’ve lived in the USA my entire lifestyles. I am a freelance director / cinematographer / steadicam operator. I first heard about Bitcoin in 2013 in the course of its bubble, the place it peaked at $1200. I consider my first purchase was once around $one hundred fifty however I only bought a bit bit, as much as I might find the money for being a broke school pupil. I made some cash and purchased matters with it, like this bizarre digicam rig. Of course part of the adoption of bitcoin is brought about via men and women speculating trying to generate income off of it. But i noticed I had actual utility, I could use it as money. An investment that’s liquid as hell. Excellent. I requested an harmless query in late 2015 on the uncensored bitcoin subreddit, /r/btc: ELI5: Why achieve this many individuals insist on a small block size?. I got first-rate answers, similar to Blockstreams function in taking up the progress, how Peter Todd remains to be seeking to these days to kill 0-affirmation transactions, and how the Core devs have been proscribing the bottom layer to push a 2nd one that they claimed would be even higher than the actual blockchain.All of these aspects nonetheless maintain proper to nowadays. I even respect a number of the names within the thread from again then with persons I still speak to in these days. I even had some put up calling out theymos, the king of censorship, round this time. How things have no longer transformed. The extra I dig up the more obvious the manipulation of public opinion. Once more, this was once in 2015 this was all being called out, 4 years ago. Thats close to 1/2 of bitcoins lifetime. Crypto is really just politics, but on a time scale which appears hundreds and hundreds of times faster.I was once continuously a huge blocker. 1MB is tiny. Its less knowledge than a 2d of this video. It gave the impression a majority of the community back in 2015 was once for bigger blocks too. How a small crew of Core developers took over and sabotaged the bitcoin experiment with never-ending small blocks will be rather the exciting case be taught in historical past class. Im nonetheless seeking to utterly wrap my head around how Gavin, the character Satoshi entrusted with the keys to the bitcoin code, used to be pushed out and ostracized for looking the logical answer, higher blocks.Its a narrative that takes a long time to tell, and entails a false Satoshi. Im currently engaged on a feature size documentary about the shitshow that’s bitcoins history. The real down and dirty bitcoin politics, no longer some loud mouth troll showing up on tv spouting nonsense. So the fork happened in August 2017 and the large block version, Bitcoin cash, didn’t win over the hearts and minds of traders. Instantaneous ridicule from the Core persons ensued, as used to be par for the path. Bcash is trash was once their mantra, in an try to rip the word bitcoin out of its name. Now take into account, theymos fairly ramped up his censorship on /r/bitcoin in 2015. Reddit used to be THE spot to talk bitcoin, and theymos actions make him, individually, the only greatest affect on this whole Scaling warfare. Go to any publish from again then about theymos increasing moderation and appear at how many individuals vehemently adverse it.One of bitcoins most important residences is censorship-resistance, however apparently whenever you go away the protocol layer you additionally abandon all of its ethos. When your methods hotel to silencing the opposition you understand your arguments aren’t on stable floor. If they were, they might let all of the dissent come their approach and evaporate before them in the face of truth. However no. The block and ban buttons are used as a type of religious piety. This itself was once a tremendous red flag that some thing used to be wrong with Bitcoin. As a latest concrete instance of manipulation, My ultra-modern video criticizing the lightning community was once the top put up on /r/btc, except every week historic news story broke in regards to the Twitter CEO, Jack, purchasing a hardware pockets all of a sudden unseated it. This Jack story was once in a antagonistic sub and it won the highest spot in an hour. Mods deleted the submit shortly after. The account had a history of vote botting. Proof Of Social Media. Par for the course for those against peer to peer money. And this this is the place I just get angry.BTC does no longer work as a trustworthy form of money, but its still pushed on unsuspecting noobs, many who now go to the bcash sunday service. These social media influencers have 10s of hundreds of thousands of followers that they preach the nice word to absolutely this many folks wouldnt listen to any person who was just basically unsuitable! This market is immature and albeit, just dumb. I really awoke to all of this when instantly I was paying $1 for a transaction rate in early 2017. This isn’t what I signed up for. My money will have to not disappear every time I need to move it. When Bitcoin cash forked, I was all in, actually with my nonetheless tiny stash and figuratively from an ideological standpoint. Does this provide me investment bias? Almost always, however again, Im now not talking tremendous cash right here.Irregardless, I do my research and its the one coin i can confidently put my cash in. I do know what it is trying to do is the reason bitcoin was created in the first place, which is what once more? Oh yeah, to offer each person in the world an possibility to be their own bank. To give humans the potential to transact with anyone in the world with out the necessity of a 3rd celebration, even if they make not up to $2 a day. That is bitcoin. I kept diving deeper into the rabbit hole. Undoubtedly each person couldnt be this deluded however they were. Advocating for the shrewd factor of raising the blocksize and how BCH is a reliable variation of Bitcoin on social media has been tiring. I dont know the way a few of these trolls are so lively and simply hostile.I grew up with the web, part of the primary iteration that had social media for his or her whole middle and excessive institution experience. However these bitcoin guys man, the most poisonous i have ever seen. You have to have thick epidermis when you even believe about having impartial idea in crypto. Its sad. I haven’t any doubt there are individuals whose full-time job it is to sow up disagreement and strife within people who want to see Bitcoin be the arena money. Theres even proof of In November of 2017 I made a industrial for BCH with the support of the Bitcoin money association. It used to be a excessive high-quality industrial in a barber store which showed bitcoin getting used as cash. Response from the group was once nice, and i located myself in Tokyo a pair months later shooting the Satoshis vision convention, where a few of the Bitcoin cash group attended.I interviewed lots of the prime leaders in BCH for the period of that point interval for my documentary together with Craig Wright. This man appeared to come out of nowhere and was once a large suggest of Bitcoin cash. He had charisma, unquestionably, even when his Satoshi claims have been iffy. I consider the BCH neighborhood sided with him on account that he was once so anti-core. An enemy of an enemy is your buddy. And on the grounds that this buddy was very aggressive and outspoken in the direction of the purpose, many were inclined to let his shadiness slide.However very quickly after this convention actual bitcoin devs, who in reality work on and comprehend the bitcoin protocol, began calling him out on his lies. It was once rough to confess youd been duped, but right here we all are. Then, of direction he forked off into his possess coin months later, and his fraud lives on. Then comes the altcoin arguments. For those who dont like BTC so much simply use nano? Dash is the real peer to see cash! Lol noob do you even cardano? Well, considering BCH has the identical transaction historical past relationship again to the genesis block in 2009, one could argue the distribution of the coin is more decentralized than any of the altcoins, due to the fact that it has been around the longest.Im a strong believer in Proof of work as well. Even though BCH has a lot less hashpower than BTC, it has been shown how a gigantic portion of hash would transfer to BCH in safeguard of a malicious actor, like we noticed within the hashwar. The miners like Bitcoin money, however they generally follow gains, and this means mining BTC and BCH on the same price as the fee ratio between them. Now that BCH is free from its former crippled blocksize, most things the altcoins can do, BCH would enforce itself. Even things just like the lightning community would work muchhhh higher on Bitcoin cash as a result of the small charges to open and shut channels. Bitcoin was once intended to be the one crypto that ruled all of them, absorbing the quality altcoin facets. Vitalik Buterin found out this was no longer the case to any extent further, and he ran off to make Ethereum in 2015 after a lot combating with the Core devs. So right here I to find myself, in March 2019, nonetheless a supporter of Bitcoin cash. That you may believe the creative and grassroots power of individuals who just wish to construct. I hear the Bitcoin OGs say its the same spirit that bitcoin had it in its early days.Persons that CARE about making bitcoin exceptional again. And of path, the small blocks made building apps problematic for devs, because the excessive charges and sluggish confirmations might disable some functions who relied on inexpensive and speedy transactions. Full blocks rationale unreliability. And if youre a dev and need to construct an app, why within the hell would you use a base protocol that can instantly price $50 for a single use. If BCH stops being the excellent type of P2P money, make no mistake, i’d drop aid. Im no longer a blind follower and am at all times watching to mission my beliefs. Tokens, Decentralized handles, Badger wallet, suggestions.Cash, CashShuffle, Satoshidice the record goes on. So many of those projects are simply now hitting the Bitcoin cash market, and wallets are looking to catch up and implement these elements as speedy as they may be able to.Its nonetheless early in Bitcoin Cashs development existence, and the power within the community is the equal one I felt once I first received into it, vibrant, filled with hope for a greater future, and now with an added tenacity to make certain that no dangerous actors can once once more spoil the imaginative and prescient of Peer to look cash for the complete world. .

[little-klng]

Baldi’s Basics Theory

I’m sure everyone by now has heard of this new indie game called Baldi’s Basics due to the fact that almost every popular Youtuber has played it, including Markiplier. Markiplier, as far as I know, is the only major Youtuber to have gotten all endings and has played quite so much of the game as many like to reference in theory videos. I’ll cut to the chase, this is a theory post about something i developed in about 15 minutes. I spent a long while debating on whether or not to even post it due to the nature of the game. I wondered if people would make fun of me for making a whole theory on some silly game about a horror-filled schoolhouse that looks so thrown together, but my dear reader, strap on your seat belt and pull out your notebooks because this here is gonna be a bumpy ride

Now that you’re here, you’ve shown interest in what I have to say. Thank you for that.

On to the theory. Now, what is it that i have to go on here for any theory? Well, everything! This isn’t gonna be another ‘it was all a dream!’ theory because thats tired and worn out and completely erases all the work gone into the game (and any story for that matter), but understand it’s going to delve into a concept of that vein. Let’s lay out what we know;

-The game takes place in a bad CGI/2D schoolhouse setting from those old learning games in the 90′s. -The main antagonist is Baldi -All other characters look like horrible caricatures of what could have/should have been better modeled/rendered people/students -All characters in the game exist solely to harm or distract the player in some way -At the end of the game when you win, you’re met with a distorted voice asking you to do worse next time because they need to- That’s that. The end of the dialogue devolves into static there. But that gives us a hint of what to do next

If you just play the game as normal. you’d never really come across some pretty major points and plot. The game just dumps you in this setting of a weirdly laid out school and lets you run wild. But if you didn’t know any better, you would miss out on the fact that the only reason the player is in the school is to get your friends notebooks that he left in the school. Weird that no character, not even you, makes any mention of that. The whole premise of the game is that you collect notebooks, but you have to solve math questions for them that you always have to fail due to some questions being glitched out and unsolvable.

With the addition of update 1.3.1, the game now has a Secret Ending that you can only get by beating the game after getting 100% of all questions wrong (meaning Baldi chases you faster than ever. Go watch Markiplier do it, it took him 9 hours). But once you beat it, you’re met with the screen telling you to go to the principals office for tips on how to do better. Once there, you’re met with a long distorted Baldi in one end of the room and a mysterious character on the other. His name is Filename2 and he looks like this

Look at this dude T Posing out here. An absolute icon.

Filename2 is just what hes labelled as in the files, and his name is never actually spoken. Some theorize him to be the players friend from earlier, and honestly so do I! When you enter the room he says the following;

"Oh jeepers, you found me. Good job, I'm glad you found me, because I have something kind of important to say. *beep* It's about th-the game... Don't, *beep* Uh, Eh. Don't *beep* Don't, just, *laughter* this is.. This is probably looking pretty ridiculous *beep* Don't tell anyone about this game. You wanna.. Don't, don't bring attention to yourself. Destroy it, destroy the game. Destroy the game. Before, it's too late. *beep* What I'm saying is... is get out of this, while you still can. *beep* Just, don't.. don't know that you probably know I'm not saying that I'm trapped inside the game, no, that would be ridiculous. No I'm.. *beep* I can't... this is... I'm not... the game was... kind of...*beep* I got really corrupted. Yeah, I... *beep* I don't know what to say. Just... Just trust me. We gotta... *beep* * This isn't... This seems... I me-I mean it seems... ohh. *beep* They'd know I.. They intentionally... that's...I guess... I can't- They can't tell you, and some... stuff is classified. I can't say it. *beep* I wish I could say more. I can't talk normally. I-it's corrupted. There's...*beep*...Yeah...*beep* Just... close the program. Destroy it. Never come back. *long beep*"

...Yeah

There are a few things to take from this

-Filename2 is not ‘trapped in the game’ like most horror cliches. that would be ridiculous -He needed you to fail every single math question and still beat the game just to say all this. Weird. -He REALLY wants you to just delete the game and pretend you didn’t see it -He REALLY wants you to escape the game while you can -The game is ‘corrupted’ somehow, but he can’t really get into it because its ‘classified’ and ‘they’ would know he told you

There is something/someone preventing Filename2 from telling you anything more important than ‘get out of here while you can, don’t worry about me’. Throughout the audio, theres a constant stutter and some laughing, but more prominently the sound of shuddering and heavy breathing. It sounds a bit like crying to me. (warning to anyone about to go listen to the audio themselves, the beeps are REALLY loud and the speech is REALLY quiet)

Lets put him to the side again while we analyze the rest of the school

This doesn’t really look like any school I’ve ever been to, how about you? The weird hallways made to look like the stretch on and on and the actual classrooms being so far away from each other makes it feel less like a school and more like a hellscape prison.

About the schools inhabitants, they also feel like a hellscape prison.

We already know about Baldi, so lets see the other antagonists;

Aside from Baldi, Filename2, and yourself, there are 6 other characters that roam the halls. Each one has a simple description of themselves in the Principals Office.

Gotta Sweep;

What do you do when the school opens in 7 hours and you haven't hired a janitor? Hire a broom! It sweeps everything!

As you might imagine, Gotta Sweep is a badly condensed jpg image of a green and grey broom that spends its time, once released from the broom closet, roaming the halls loudly proclaiming its need to sweep. It moves quickly, sweeping everything in its path in the same direction it is. It stops for no one and nothing.

It’s A Bully;

Here at Here School, we believe every good school needs a good bully! That's why we have this kid!

It's a Bully appears as a poorly-modeled humanoid figure with an orange ellipsoid for a torso, blue cylinders for limbs, and small, peach-colored balls for hands and feet. He has an incredibly distorted and malformed face with dots for eyes, a gaping mouth with orange lips that clips into where his neck would be, a wide asymmetrical nose and brown hair. He doesn't wear shoes, and he has a brown text floating next to his head that says "THIS IS A BULLY" in all-caps. His pose appears to be in the middle of a run cycle. He spends his time blocking hallways and demanding that, in order to pass through, he must take one of your items. He can, however, be sent to detention should the principal wander by.

Playtime;

Despite her poor eyesight, she's always looking for a playmate! "Let's play!"

This character is a poorly drawn animated little girl whos eyes and hair are animated scribbles. Her poor eyesight has nothing to do with her characters mechanics, as she spots you easily and traps you in a game of jumprope. You can cut her jumprope with safety scissors to escape the game entirely, but doing so is considered bullying and you can be sent to detention for it.

1st Prize; 

Won 1st Prize at the Science Fair! Loves hugging people, rushing towards anyone it sees. Sadly, it turns super slowly.

If you liked Gotta Sweep you’ll definitely like this character. Hes a robotic hugging machine that barrels down the hall towards you, and pushes you until the hallway ends. He, unlike Gotta Sweep, turns very slowly. He can occasionally accidentally push Baldi into you if you’re not careful, but you can use the safety scissors to cut his wires and make him spin in place for 15 seconds to buy time. Dunno why you’d do that though.

Principal of the Thing; 

If I see anyone breaking the school rules, I'll make sure justice is served! It tastes good and fills my tummy!

Now, the interesting thing here is that when you start the game, Baldi refers to Here School (the school you’re in) as ‘his’ school, even though there definitely is a principal. There are posters in the school listing off the rules, and all are pretty standard like “no running” and “no students in the faculty rooms” and being caught breaking these rules by the principal sends you to detention for increasing seconds. An interesting thing to note about this character is that his name is a play on words for the phrase ‘It’s the principle of the thing’, though I have no idea how to fit that into a theory. This guy is a mostly average looking guy, except that his face is slightly contorted and his legs are partially erased

Arts and Crafters;

Shy, and tries to be avoided. Doesn't like being looked at, and gets jealous at people with more notebooks than him.

This guy is the final character, and he’s only important once you have all 7 notebooks. This guy is a sock puppet that, when looked at, will dart back behind whatever wall is closest and out of sight. However, once you have more notebooks than him (7, as he has 6), he turns hostile. He runs at you with his cardboard mouth agape and teleports both you and Baldi back to the starting position, ruining your run almost instantly. 

And that’s everyone!

The most intriguing thing about all of them is that they all share one quality; some part of them is horrifically malformed. Something about them is just... broken or stretched or erased. The only one in one piece and animated is, albeit poorly, Baldi. Everyone, however, has a function and could definitely be described as real cliques and people. All of these characters read as how you imagine a person you’ve only ever been told about, but never really met. Especially if the person telling you about them was only telling you about the newest drama going around or the latest experience the person talking has had with that person if they’ve only had bad experiences with them.

And here’s where the theory begins.

These characters are all fragmented and poorly animated because thats sort of how it works in your head when you’ve never actually seen someone in person. How many times have you heard about someone over and over only to meet them in person and realizing they look nothing like how you imagined, or that they dont act the same as you’ve been told. But that’s because often times you’re only ever told about the bad someone else has done, and very rarely the special good things someone does. 

These characters are not real people, but they are based on the real people your friend knows.

Your friend told you about the little girl in the school with bad eyesight but loves to play jumprope. Your friend told you about the bully that steals his stuff. Your friend told you about the principal and how he gets people in trouble so much. Your friend told you about his science fair project that won first place. These people are not people you know, but you’ve heard about them. You probably don’t know their names because your friend didn’t refer to them with names. Just with minor descriptions.

Why do they look like that? well I don’t imagine that, if one were to look at how your brain pieces images together based on description alone and makes them a real thing, they would look so good either. 

Every single character makes sense in this context. All but one- Baldi

Baldi, unlike every other character, is a whole animated character with lines that hint not-so-subtly that hes in charge of Here School, despite the principle. He’s an entity that is almost entirely immune to most things and hes the first thing you see as you enter the game. He’s also the last. But despite this, his weakness is the rules he follows. He tries to answer the phone, he abides by the walls of the school, he moves at a pace synonymous with the whacks of his ruler- if you’ve ever been to an old catholic school, you know that sound well and truly means power over others.

Baldi is a malicious entity that has trapped you in his Hellscape Prison constructed entirely from your subconscious memory. Personally, I think the map looks that way because the Player has been homeschooled and hasn’t actually seen much of the inside of a real school, but that’s up for interpretation. Baldi has manifested this area to fit the descriptions that your friend has fed you of this area you were already thinking about on your way to gather your friends notebooks. You were meant to be dumped in this world having forgotten your initial quest and forced to work on bare instinct. That’s why you don’t think to question the fact that, despite the fact that school is over at this time (”your friend forgot his notebooks and he needs them back before ‘eating practice’...” supposedly an after school activity Actually revolving around cooking and food prep. Maybe your friend works at a restaurant after school and Baldi doesn’t quite understand what that means due to his demonic or fae nature?) you’re still expected to finish all these math assignments just to leave. 

Now, why doesnt our brave and ultimately doomed protagonist just leave? Well, my dear reader, I’m sure you’ve heard of those old tales of Fae that trick wanderers into eat fruit or taking things that aren’t theirs to trap them for eternity? That’s right, the notebooks are what trap you in the game.

From the first moment you finish the first notebook scot-free, you are trapped, having taken a fae-world item to fulfill your own quest. Now Baldi can give you those impossible-to-solve questions and the notebooks regardless of anything else. You’re trapped and theres nothing you can do about it.

No matter how many times you get a Game Over, you’ll keep trying. And you’ll keep going. You won’t ever really escape

“But the, where does Filename2 come into play, Mona?” I hear you dejectedly cry into the night, “You didn’t forget about him, did you?” Oh you naive little thing... he’s what ties this whole thing together!

You see, Filename2 is you! Well, maybe not you but, he’s what remains of you. While you spend eternity trapped in a world built from your subconscious, your conscious self remains, though glitched out and corrupted. You aren’t fully there, and if you knew that you might be able to escape, but if Filename2 told you that, Baldi would know. Filename2 is your door to safety and salvation...  but unfortunately...

Baldi hears every door that you open.

[tobebugjewce]

nightmare log

i dont remember the exact night i had this nightmare but strap in because its very detailed;

it starts off with me traversing an old crumbling building, it only has two or three floors, and me and my sister are leading a group of strangers. we’re all carrying flashlights, either its night time or the building interior is very poorly lit. its dusty, old-smelling and nearly every other surface is covered in thick cobwebs. we barely get a couple minutes into exploring until something happens; it feels like a bomb strikes the building, i dont know for sure but all i do know is the ground shook and there was smoke everywhere, and there was a really really faint small sounding alarm, almost as if it was coming from a long distance away. it was still audible though. my sister and i traverse the even worse state of this building, its now blocked up more than it was before, some rooms are impossible to enter or you have to crouch down to crawl underneath the collapsing walls. we move forward and the group of people that were following us stay behind, theyre very adamant about staying and NOT going further, theyre scared, terrified. we have no idea what for, so we keep going. we go up into a second floor, i think, but all i know is in the dusty, old, wooden floorboards match the doors of the rooms in the second floor. i crack open a door and it creaks so loudly, its so so dark in the room i look into, and in the room is a small wire framed metal bed, like ones you woudl see in an orphanage or an asylum. or a prison. i see a huge lump on the bed, wrapped in a linen blanket, it looks like a body. it is a body. its a frail, old old woman. she sits up and looks around, shes confused. lost. her eyes are sunken and she looks like shes been alive for more than a human should be. she blindly looks around, and she asks me “natalia?” its all she says. i say no, im sorry. im not natalia. my sister looks into another room as i close the door to the old womans room. she finds an empty room, and i go to the last one, its a weirdly small upper floor considering the downstairs areas were much much larger. theres only 3 rooms in this upper floor. i go to the other door that my sister isnt looking in, and i see the exact same layout as the old womans, except this time its an old man, just as old, just as frail and skeletal. he asks the same thing, “natalia???” i say no again, and that im sorry, im not her. i walk down the stairs, which feels like im in a different area, like the path behind me is an opposite staircase, but i walk down and go towards a door, one i assume to be the exit. its not. or at least i wouldnt have known because i hear my sister screaming for me, shes shouting so i turn around, but as soon as i turn my head, the building is different. its stark white. its clean, bright, too bright. there’s people walking around, in business clothing. dress shirts, slacks, pencil skirts, ties, holding clipboards wtih papers on them. there’s a woman that stands out, because not only is she dressed in an all white jumpsuit, shes frantically scribbling on the wall, which is a chalkboard, whcih i only noticed when i stepped closer. its like i was suddenly transported into an optical illusion. i tried stepping closer to the scraggly looking woman, her hair was frizzy, and she had a lot of it. she looked like she got struck by lightning because of how much her hair was sticking up and around and looking frazzled. she looked frazzled. i feel like i was looking at someone who wasnt natalia, but maybe knew her. or knew what was going to happen. she was scribbling nonsense on the walls, not words, not drawings, just sprawling lines and circles. i could sense that she felt like the only sane person in the building, despite looking like the most deranged one. i blink and suddenly the building is crumbled again. im back. i dont hear my sister anymore. the door i thought was the exit hasnt changed, but i was right, it was an exit. and i think now this is perfect, we can get the group out. we can get out. we go back up to see the old people again, it was exactly the same as last time. i open a door and i see the old woman again, she sits up again, she asks the same thing again. “natalia?” i dont answer her, i just close the door. i can still hear her frantically asking “natalia? natalia?” through the wall. the old man is exactly the same. i open the door, he sits up, he asks “natalia?” i close the door. i feel weirdly angered. my sister and i go back down to where the group was hiding, we have to go through a small hole in a closet to find them. we move to get them out, but i open the “exit” door, and suddenly im outside. im on a street, farther away from the building. it looks weirdly new again. like im back to where it was before it was a crumbled abandoned mess. i apparently was running, i feel like im escaping something. someone. im suddenly back inside the building. right in front of the door again. i step forward to try to leave, but i physically feel a restriction. i step back and feel warbled as im realizing im not in the pristine white building anymore, its rubble again. i step forward and feel like im pushing past a barrier, the more force i exude, the whiter and newer the building becomes. like im stepping into an illusion, a false reality where this building is back to its glory days, not a broken abandoned mess that only contains two living, old, old “humans”. 

i dont want to write this post anymore.

but im going to continue.

its getting irritating now, but im back outside. i decide i want to escape this horrid building, i run. i keep running. im at a 4 way stop in this street, i cant tell what time it is because each direction i look its a different time of day. i run left and down, the road is watery, it then appears im standing in water that reaches up to half of my shin. its running but slowly, like a small creek. the asphalt below the water is cracked and crumbling, its no longer a road that cars drive on. i look to my left and see it flow into a lake, or an ocean. to my right is a collection of trees that are growing in this river road. the roots of these trees stretch out very very far. in between two trees are two women, they look like theyre just a little bit older than me. theyre so gorgeous. one is in all black, but has white hair, and the other is wearing all white, but has black hair. theyre holding hands. they refuse to separate the entire time they talk to me. they ask me if im lost, where i need to go, who or what im looking for. i can barely answer. i feel like im going to cry. but not of fear, not of anger, just the feeling of water swelling up in my eyelids and pouring down my face just feels like a separate emotion i wanted to happen as i kept talking to these two beings. i close my eyes and suddenly im walking down a steet into a neighborhood. it looks rich. i dont belong. the houses are all painted white and are disproportionately tall, too too tall and not wide enough. they look like huge cheese sticks. weirdly skinny. small black windows. even starker white window frames. im shaking. an old man walking his dog walks past me, telling me if i need anything hes got it. he tells me to have a good day, i try to say something polite back but i dont know what language im speaking in. i get frustrated trying to find my way out, the houses are so packed together and they spiral, i keep ending up in tiny backyards. i look down at the white tiles im stepping on, i look up and im back in the river road. the women ask me to follow them. we swim into the lake and i try grabbing onto the wood pillars of a rotting, broken pier. there’s heads on top of the wooden posts. theyre all talking, laughing, some trying to get my attention, one telling me i might beat a new record time for swiming fast. i try not to look at them. my eyes are filling up with lake water and salt-less tears. i see a figure, but my vision is so blurry the person standing at the end of the pier almost doesnt seem real. all i know is she has red hair, its short, she looks placid, she looks like a mannequin in uncomfortable clothes. its natalia.

i wake up.

[firecakes-art]

Marker Man Misadventures 11

Okay, where am I now? It looks like some kind of dream world. Everything is purple, there are stars and sleepy clouds in the sky and the background music feels as calm as the last world's background music. Speaking of, this one is the biggest offender in terms of the beat count. You thought the 7 measure loop was bad? The following numbers are my best guess as to what the number of beats in each measure are: 2,4,4,2,4,3,4. That is a total of 23 beats over 7 measures. My head is hurting just listening to this song. Please, make it stop.

It's a long way down, so watch your step. The man eating houses are back, so that's fun. On the one horizontally moving platform, you can make it to the right wall using a momentum jump when the platform is moving right. There is a lot of space to move around here, so try and not to get lost.

Sad Cat

A sad cat that roams around being sad. If you touch it, it will meow and scratch you for 10 damage, given that this is world 10.

I actually cannot believe this. I checked every part of this level multiple times over. I think the developers straight up forgot to add a coin here. There is only one coin in this level as far as I know. I have no idea where the two coin exit takes me. Of course the game doesn't let me have the satisfaction of knowing every route in the game, but I guess if the second coin was never programmed in, then it's technically not even a route. How infuriating.

LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ABOUT THIS LEVEL. As I just from this one platform to another, all of a sudden a star appears from the top of my screen, smashes down into me, and before I could even process what happened, I died. It killed me instantly. I had to go back and check what in the world happened at that moment. THE ENEMY IS PART OF THE BACKGROUND. PART OF THE BACKGROUND OF HUNDREDS OF OTHER STARS IN THE SKY. It's teaming up with the yellow house and trying to assassinate my progress. Go on. Collect that marker. It's totally not bait. The sound of collecting the marker is also totally not going to take priority over the sound of the star falling completely. Stupid dumb falling star level.

Alright, I feel better now.

Falling Star

These will destroy you. 10 damage per frame, and can seemingly fall from the sky at any time, there is little indication for when one is coming. They are differentiated from the rest of the stars in the background from its frown, and from its occasional blinking. If you hear a stock falling sound effect then that means you better take cover immediately because it's coming to smash your head in. They disappear after a bit.

That's not even the worst part. The worst part is in order to know when they're coming, I have to have the sound on and listen for the falling cue. And that means listening to the horrid background music.

This level is pretty fun to speed run. Just watch out for the stars, as they hang lower to the ground in this one. Go over the holes and enter the hallway where the coin is from the right side to avoid all the spikes.

This one, on the other hand, is not fun to speed run. Almost half of the length of the level involves just running right. Then you have to deal with the mess that is everything above you. Too little to do, followed by too much to do.

One of the stars will happily greet you after you climb up a wall. At this point you have two options. Either run backwards and have a line placed where you will land so you won't take possible fall damage, or quickly draw a line above you so that the star bounces off your head. I'd assume the star would bounce off the line and not kill you. I didn't try it. Just saying, in case you're the one person in the world who has the game and is going through this guide. Oh, that person is me? Great.

Hey it worked. Just thought I'd say that. Okay, moving on.

Raccoons are falling from the sky! The biggest danger is falling enemies. Otherwise, it's a pretty mild level overall. Go left on spawn to get the coin first.

I have a pro tip for myself. The timer that determines when the star disappears continues on pause! This means that you can avoid harm from a star once it jumps out by pausing for about 5 seconds. It will disappear on unpause.

This poor raccoon keeps walking to the right, and the bouncy wall keeps pushing it away. Stop doing that, wall. It's trying to get to work. I was worried that the one exit that is impossible to get to leads to the bonus level, but this one has the exit to the bonus level. It seems like I am able to access every level so far. Maybe that impossible exit goes to a level I already visited. Maybe it doesn't go anywhere! I guess it doesn't matter now.

Bouncy Wall

Even though it looks like this will kill you because it has ridges around all the edges, it's harmless. It's a moving wall that has high restitution. Anything it touches will be bounced away.

I think this is a strong contender for the worst marker man level so far. The majority of the level is simple platforming, and the only enemy type is the spiky wall. The middle section of the level is ridiculous. You have to jump from one moving platform to another moving platform, and the platforms change directions in different frequencies. This means there are times where you can make the jump and there are times where you cannot, and you have to be able to tell the difference, often while the platform to jump to is out of view. The first time this happens is at least systematically manageable, but the second time there is a spiky wall column introduced! That wall has its own movement pattern and can stop marker man from making the jump to the other platform. That specific jump is almost impossible unless you do what I did.

On the stationary platform before the twin moving platforms with the spiky wall in between, pan the camera to the far right until you see the spiky wall. If you place a line just above the ceiling and when the spiky walls are at its highest point, then you can barely get the shape to be sandwiched between the walls and the ceiling, preventing the walls from coming back down for a little while. You have a ten second time frame at this point to make the jump from one moving platform to the other. The last jump in this set is to the stationary platform, which can be blocked yet again by the spiky wall that gets in the way. You have to time your jump so you can land on that safe area before your line disappears, or else you have a good chance of getting hit by the spiky wall that was trapped from earlier. Absolutely insane. Hope that extra life was worth it.

Search. Find. Collect. Dodge. Jump. Exit.

These coins are getting pretty tough to find. However, if you're insane like I am, you can try using the cool shortcut to get the coin instantly. Get on top of the structure you spawn in, and just jump off to the left. You'll have to try to not hit the falling star or miss the platform, and draw something under you so that you won't die from fall damage. It's pretty risky, but it's so much fun. These stars are always inconveniently placed everywhere, and they still scare me when they jump out.

This has been the most difficult world for mapping yet. The platforms are scattered around so there are a ton of paths one can take. I often mess up the scaling of a path when it finally joins with an earlier visited segment. It sucks. Also help me: I'm running out of ideas for level titles.

I can feel my soul draining.

No enemies, and basically no pickups? How many of these levels have even been reviewed? I didn't play this game to appreciate the architecture of the levels. I expect an actual game to be here.

Yep. My soul's gone now.

Beware of the large amount of stars in the beginning segment. Just watch out for stars no matter where you are. Except for this bonus level, of course. Wait, what? Another bonus level? This is the same world, right? Please don't be as bad as the previous bonus level...

I am so relieved. The ending part is slightly tricky because you cannot ramp over the cake because the line you create will just slide off. Just build from the last platform in the air so that the slope is shallow enough not to slip.

Another really annoying level to map out. The middle area has 4 to 5 different layers of platforms, all pretty separate from each other. Just... one more... level... to go.... Get me off this wild ride.

Oh no..... oh noooo..... THERE ARE INVISIBLE WALLS IN THIS LEVEL. THEY ACTUALLY MADE INVISIBLE WALLS A THING. I'M SO SCREWED.

The grey lines indicate invisible walls. As you can imagine, they are SO MUCH HARDER to draw than regular walls because I have to make a ton of checks just to accurately figure out the length of one platform. And that's assuming I can find them. Just imagine a regular player trying to beat this level! First, they have to find the second coin. The only way to find it without blindly jumping to your death is to hold the camera down control while on the moving platform. The coin will be barely visible for a moment. Then they have to get down there to realize that there is an invisible wall in the way. THEN after they figured out that theres a hole in the top that also leads to a spike pit they have to build their way out. Building your way out of that tiny hole is not easy, even if it was all visible.

So how do you build out of the coin hole? You cannot build a line up hugging the wall because it will either fall through the hole or it will be too steep for marker man to not hit the ceiling while climbing up it. You have to build a perfect rectangle. A perfect rectangle is pushed all the way to the left of the hole and has a height that will barely get it touching the ceiling. This makes it so that the rectangle will not move once the line gets built underneath it. A circle is not ideal, but is possible to use as well. There is a huge chance you will accidentally give marker man a power. Honestly, if you have the markers to give marker man a power up, just give it super jump and bounce out of there. Build to the moving platform, minding the invisible ceiling, and escape this monster of a level.

There is a good chance that the next world is the last one. There is also a good chance that this might be the world that breaks me. I have no idea what it has in store, but if this level is any indication then I am in trouble. Wish me luck.

This world is so massive that the developers felt the need to add two bonus levels. Probably. I don't know what they're thinking. I can guess that they were not thinking about how much they enjoy making levels for this game.

[megacircuit9universe]

Electro College

THU SEP 25 2020

Well, here I am on another Thursday night... Thursday being the day of the week where the big story of the week hit’s it’s terrifying apex before dying off over the weekend, and giving way to the next big story that starts as a whisper on Monday, and builds steam over Tuesday and Wednesday.

What was last Thursday?  Suckers and Losers? What was it the week before that?  Trump telling Woodward he knew the virus was airborne and deadly back in February and deliberately lied about it?  Don’t cite me on that timeline, because the point is, every week it’s something that makes you forget what you were freaking out about last Thursday... which I guess is why I’m here?

Before we get to this week’s big story, I need to circle back to the last entry, on a Friday, when the TikTok ban was an absolute certainty... which was to take effect on Sunday.

Well... everybody on TikTok was very sad and angry about that, but then news came on Saturday afternoon that... surprise... the deal somehow went through and TikTok is here to stay... (?) (!) (?) (!)

The other big thing that happend on Friday, of course was the death of RGB, and since then, the GOP  has been in lockstep about confirming a new justice as soon as humanly possible... in bald disregard for all the arguments they made in 2016 about how voters MUST have a say in such things... even while their noses have been rubbed harder in that pile of shit, by the media, than a dog belonging to the most proactive house trainer on Earth.

But, just because 100% of the GOP from the highest offices to the lowest, have their faces covered in feces right now in defense of this move to swing the court at the 11th hour... it doesn’t mean they are all slavishly loyal to Trump.  

I’d hazzard a guess that 60% of them are only on board with this, because of the dream to overturn Roe V Wade, which goes back thirty years.  

They’d sooner kill themselves than turn down this once in a lifetime, fleeting chance to so unbalance the court, that the dream can finally come true.

But...

This urgency... from the top to the bottom... this frantic scramble... in which their faces are covered in poop, and their shoes are flying off, shirts coming untucked, tupees taking flight in the political wind... this desperation, in which they do not care what they look like to observers...

...betrays one fact.

And that is, all of them know Trump will not be reelected.

Many of them know the whole Republican Party is on the verge of losing power... for at least a generation, if not forever... thanks to Trump.

But if they can tip that Supreme Court!.. well conservatism may be able to live on for another thirty years... long enough for hyper conservatism to stage a comeback.

It’s not about saving babies, by the way.  It’s never been.  The anti-abortion movement has always been about controlling women, just as all other conservative passion projects are about controlling minorities and the poor, and gatekeeping access to status, wealth, and power.

A conservative court could keep that all rolling for them as they struggle to brainwash a new generation of their own kids to win back seats of power in the other branches of government... or so they hope!  But it’s a gamble they just have to take in this desperate hour.

Now, it is true that the slavishly loyal cabal of Trump loyalists in the Senate and a few other places do want this Supreme Court nomination rammed through for... la la la.. save the babies or whatever.. but in their heads it’s very much more about saving the coup!  

These guys, McConnell, Graham, and friends, saw a different dream within their grasp after Trump won in 2016... 

...the dream of bringing all three branches of Federal government under the control of a single Republican strong man... for good.  It was a bold vision, but... four years wasn’t gonna be enough time.

Tearing down an entire democracy is hard guys!

It takes time!

They worked as hard as they could though!  You have to give them that!

They know just as well as the rest of the GOP, that Trump will not get reelected.  Not after Covid19.  Not with Biden still ahead by seven points this long after the conventions, and this close to November 3rd.

So for them, ramming through a replacement for RGB is seen as a Hail Mary play, to outright reject the election results.  And they’ve said as much this week, as has Trump.  They’re laying the flimsy foundations for this final bid to hold power, as best they can.

Flimsy because it’s both very last minute, and also... relies on people believing their word has any value...

Sure, we’ll support a peaceful transition of power if Trump loses, we promise! But we just want to make sure elections are fair!

...in a political moment where they’re also saying out loud, FUCK WHAT I SAID RECENTLY I’M DOING A 180 AND FUCK YOU!

The idea is... the results will probably be close enough in a couple key states, that they can contest the results and take it to a pre-packed Supreme Court who will grant Trump the victory.

There was even talk of pressuring states to send Republican electors to vote for Trump, even if the popular vote totals in the imagined key states was heavily in favor of Biden.

Again, that might trigger a Supreme Court case, cuz you can’t get on a state ballot in the first place, unless you agree not to try a stunt like that, but... their packed court would rule in Trump’s favor and... American democracy as we knew it would be over.

Maybe not the most ideal way to stay in power, but... still a workable plan... or so they think.

But this plan hinges on the so-called, “red mirage,” to materlialize on election night... which is itself, a delusional theory.  

It’s based on the idea that all Democratic voters will vote by mail, while all Republican voters will vote in person.  Thus, election night results will see most states turning red, and Democrats will be in a position where they’re calling for time, for the mail in votes to slowly trickle in and be counted over the next couple weeks... promising that Biden really won it, once the final count is done.

But that’s not reality.

What is reality?  

Well, first of all, states that are too close to call don’t get colored either red or blue, so in this scenario, it’d just be a bunch of gray states that were not called either way, pending more data.

But setting that to one side, let’s look at what the reality is likely to be, and then let’s look at how things would play out... even if Red Mirage was a reality on November 3rd...

REALITY: Trumps only path to squeak out 270 electoral votes is if he wins both Wisconsin and Nevada... along with... all the states that normally turn red, such as Texas, Florida, etc.

The problem is, Biden is ahead by two to three points in both Wisconsin and Nevada... along with several of the states that normally turn red, such as Texas, Florida, etc.

This means that all Biden has to do is win either Wisconsin or Nevada, and he’s to 270... and any other normally red states he wins (and there are several which are leaning his direction right now) will only solidify that win.

But Trump has already pulled adds in Wisconsin, and Nevada... because his campaign is running out of money... which is astonishing, given how much they had to start with but... criminals like to pocket huge sums of donation money so... now they’re feeling the hurt from that, because they can’t even fight in the two states they definitely need... that Biden is winning.

Meanwhile, Biden’s got massive inflows of donation money, as have all the rest of the Democrats down ballot... thanks to what the GOPs been doing in the wake of RGB, and thanks to, “loser and suckers,” and lying to the public about Covid, etc.

Millenials, and GenZ have also not forgotten about the TikTok ban, even if they’ve gotten yet another reprieve from it, and do still very much plan to storm the polls on November 3rd, along with GenX, who elected Obama/Biden all by themselves before either of these newer, much larger gens were old enough to vote.

Trump already spooked everybody out of voting by mail several weeks ago with his assault on the USPS, and so everybody who can is already early voting... and facing resistance from illicit and illegal militia groups in some states on the early voting fronts which... in this year of bravery in the face of fascism in the streets... means only more storming of polls in every way possible to guarantee a landslide for Biden on election night, before bedtime.

Keep in mind that right now, Trump supporters are also being successfully brainwashed into thinking theres no way Trump can lose.  They have to be brainwashed to think this, so that they’ll go along with the argument (after he does lose) that it was all rigged.  

But this brainwashing beforehand means... they, are gonna stay home and be complacent, just as Hillary voters did in 2016.

The election map is, thus, gonna be so blue, on election night, that Trump’s only recourse will be this:  

“ITS OBVIOUSLY RIGGED, BECAUSE THERES NO WAY ALL THOSE STATES TURNED SO BLUE BY SUCH HUGE MARGINS!”

In effect... he will be crying about a blue mirage, on November 4th.

And while that may play with his stunned supporters... it’s NOT gonna play with the Supreme Court, or the military, or the destroyed GOP Senate, or even Fox News.

RED MIRAGE SCENARIO:  Okay, but what about the other scenario where there IS a red mirage, just for the sake of argument, and Trump immediately moves to block the counting of any absentee votes still out there in the mail?  

Well... the only hope of stopping such ballots from being counted, would be to get the Supreme Court on board.  BUT... even with more conservatives than liberals on the nine person court... they, the Justices, would know, for a certainty, that to rule in his favor... to not count valid votes on the flimsy, proof-free argument that mail in ballots are inherently fraudulent... during a pandemic... would result in a fucking civil war the same day as the ruling.

In other words... Trump would be leaving it on their shoulders, to destroy the Constitution... which is the exact opposite of what the Supreme Court is all about, and the exact opposite of how they maintain their hold on one third of he power in this three-branch democracy.

And even a grade school child knows, if they did that, in this political climate, civil war would begin the next hour... and we’re a nuclear power so... a civil war here could well lead to the end of the world.

They’re not gonna do that, and they don’t have to.

The whole stupid strategy by the right, of packing the Supreme Court with conservative Justices has always been idiotic, because once you’re on the Supreme Court, you’re beholden to nobody.

Not only are you beholden to nobody... but your power to stay beholden to nobody is all about showing your beholden to nobody, by upholding the sacred reputation of the Supreme Court as a body of untouchables who only care about the Constitution, and the correctitude of all the previous rulings by the Supreme Court.

This is why my father, a life long conservative, has been so butt-hurt, all his life, every time the new conservative Supreme Court justice rules in favor of the liberal thing!  Why?  How?  Where is their party loyalty???

Sorry dude, but that’s how the founding fathers designed it.  They get life long appointments without needing to run for reelection, so... they’re free to actually follow their conscience once in a while.

Thanks Trump, for nominating me.  Thanks Mitch, for ramming me through.  Now... fuck you both!  I’m not starting your fucking civil war, go to hell!

The Supreme Court was already doing this to Trump very recently, so... what?... is the death of RGB supposed to make them suddenly fall in line?  More likely, it will make them more determined to respect her legacy, and show the planet that they do not bow to would be dictators.

Trump is toast... stuck in the toaster... getting burnt, and setting off the smoke alarm, because he refuses to eject.  And the GOP senate... is sticking a butter knife in there, to try and help him... just before the sprinklers go off.

And with that, it is time for bed.

[sumblebuttz1987]

SaeyougXMc //Smut fic PT 2

Her Blossom

• This fic is based on a high school AU on Mystic messenger. Mc is a pure clean white rose, who is very curious what the feeling of sex is like. When all of a sudden she meets the devil Saeyoung who steals her purity and stain her petals. • __________________________________________

Everyone was sat down.

The blonde, the female, Saeyoung, the silver , the black , the dude that grabbed my boobs and me. The blue haired boy stood up and shook his head in shame.

???- look at you all. Aside from this poor lady. I cant belive that its are first day here at this school and all we’ve done is caused trouble. I cant always keep you people in line. Jahee your fine. But Jumin, all you’ve done is neglect everyone and everything and literally pretended you don’t exist. Zen you could adult a bit more instead of acting like every girl is apart of your fan club, yoosung chill more instead of running into things. Sarean WTF MAN, and most importantly WHAT THE FUCK SAEYOUNG!

DONT BE RUNNING AROUND INTO THINGS YOU SHOULDNT BE RUNNING INTO!

I.. am so sorry miss. I just-

Mc- Its.. perfectly fine.

Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy. Which their probably right.

Mc- I should take more responsibility for my actions. None of this mess would of happended if I didnt run away. I’m not the most bright person on campus.

I get up and dust my skirt, grabbing my bag and parting my hair away from my face. I feel like I’m on the verge of tears and a mental breakdown right now.

Mc- However. You can easily avoid me in this campus, as theres only one of me. Lets say this. I’ll walk away and act like I never even seen you around before and act like nothing happened.

Great, I’ll be on my way now.

I start to walk away from the group of students, and rub my eyes as I feel a slap of shame hit my face and my nose starting to fill with fluid of me being sad. I quicken my pace as I know this will turn ugly, but my feet have a different thought.

They just make my life better by making me trip over a crack in the path. I fall to the ground hoping the hit would end my life, because I feel like shit until. I feel a warmth grab my hand and another wrap around my waist.

I look up to see who saved me from my fall, to find myself in the arms of Seven.

I can’t help but smile and look at the ground. I can even find a negative scentence to this positive outcome but-

Seven- I’m sorry for what we caused today.. but Its kinda hard to forget a cut- I mean a warm hearted girl like you. And I mean, it would kinda mean alot to me- Umm us if we had someone to show us around and have a new person to the group.

He looks into my eyes, and attempts to give a warm welcoming smile. And holy shit it works. I feel my cheeks plump up and a grin spread on my face. Seven’s expression changes from warm and welcoming to greedy and lustful as his hand raises to wipe the upcoming tears from my eyes, until a familair childish voice snaps me and him back into reality.

???-Saeyoung~ come on, dont hog her to yourself!!

He blinks and smiles.

Seven- Lets go join them shall we, ha lol almost got ya there. Lololol.

I turn my body around facing the direction where I knew this is where my new future would begin.

It was the start of the year, it was the first day and so many things have happened I made a group of new friends. My boobs were groped. I met a really fucking cute guy who is the reason of all of this and last but not least, its not fiction ITS FUCKINNG REALL HAHAHAHA!

The bell rang, to wake me from my evergoing class naps. I look up only to realise I slept in history. Kinda glad I did. I grabbed my stuff and walked out the door. I had just a tiny bit of drool from my mouth and my hair was a bit fuzzy, My legs were numb and my back was sore. My apartment was like 10 blocks away from school so I had a while to think back of what happened today. I stepped outside of the school gates only to see the carpark was packed with girls around the new students car. Jumin, zen, yoosung V and jahee were chilling and looked kinda disturbed. I had a small feeling that this would happen alot. I smiled only to realise Yoosung had noticed me… Oh shit, I mean its a good thing but-

Yoosung- HEY MC! WANNA RIDE!~

I shook my head but I smiled. He smiled back. Some girls behind the large group sneered at me, and looked kinda angry.

Girl 1- Ugh. Whys she getting the attention of them shes just a lonely loser who trys to be different because she can’t be as cool us us.

Girl 2- I heard shes, a slutty whore. I saw her walk into those really shady streets byherself, and she was already on Saeran today like omg get a life.

They both laugh knowing that I could hear in my distance. I just kept walking. Not really giving a dam. I also had a feeling this could get bad, with all the girls talking shit about me. Look did I choose for this, did I want to grab the attention of these hot specimens!!

NOT REALLY

I walk past the crowd and head past the shops and the pub. I start to walk uphill, I hear a loud car drive up behind me. So I just turn up my headphones to full blast and keep walking. The car gets louder and I get more annoyed. I turn to my side and look. It turns out to be the twins. He turns off the car as I stop in his presence. His brother stops texting and looks at me, his cheeks dust with a pink as he probably remembers the events that happened today.

Seven- So uh.. do you want a ride?

I look at him and look at my shoes then I look at him. I think I could use a lift, but I’m also really hungry.

Mc- If.. you know your ok with that?

Seven smiles and bites his lip. His brother turns to the front and covers his mouth.

Seven- hop In.

His car is a black convertible with white leather seats and a gold trim around the outside. I make sure to be very careful with the car, I chuck my heavy ass school bag in the back and throw my droopy legs in the back aswell. I sit down getting a feel to the leather against my skin. I look up to see Seven adjusting his review mirror to be looking at me. I can see his golden eyes staring at me, and he bit his lip again. Dose he have a habit or something?

Seven- so where we off to sweet?

Mc- I know this might be trouble to ask, but I was wondering if we could go get some icecream or something..?

Saeran lights up as If it was Christmas morning. Seven, looks at him and looks back at me.

Seven- Sure thing.

He turns the car on, and the. Radio pops on. He strokes his hair and moves the grear stick, he licks his lips and reves the engine, changing it to the first gear. I dont think mum will mind but I better be home not too late. We drive along the long dim streets covered with the shadows of trees. I start to get tired, and somehow even though seven and his brother is a stranger I kinda feel safe and warm inside, weird feeling. I look back up at his eyes in the mirror and as I do he dose aswell. I start to get a little bit tired so I lay down and just close my eyes for a second or to.

I hear talking, but then I hear nothing aswell as the sound of silence as the car turns off. I slowly open my eyes only to leave a yawn in the air. I blink realising that were not at the ice cream shop. I widen my eyes and look both ways, seven pops up in front of me as I get out of the car.

Mc- where are we?

He looks at me, only to continue to stare with those lustful eyes, that kept pulling me in to something that felt wrong but also felt so right.

Seven- My home.

__________________________________________

A/N

• final part is next

[writingrei]

fragmented memories | chapter 8

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11 | chapter 12

i ALMOST forgot to mention that theres quick inukik in this chapter but ONLY this chapter

---

“Mr. Inuyasha…” Kohaku whimpered.

Inuyasha's crooked smile carved across his face, no sign of the person he used to be in his expression. He adjusted his hand’s position on the Tessaiga, ready to stab the blade into anyone.

Kohaku gasped, curling into himself and guarding his face with his arms and turned his head to the side. He felt thick chunks of blood fall off of the blade onto his clothes, but his blood had yet to join the bandits’. Spreading his arms to see between them, he saw Inuyasha frozen above him. His voice croaked, the sword in his hand trembling. As he looked down on the boy, his eyes were filled with puzzlement. His clenched jaws struggled to part but let out a strained, “Get out of here.”

Kohaku dropped his arms in bewilderment, but rolled away in time to miss Inuyasha implanting his Tessaiga in the dirt of the ground. The young boy scrambled backwards on his hands and feet, kicking up dust, only stopping when his back made contact with a tree.

Inuyasha's body was tensed up, struggling to remove himself from the Tessaiga. His heart continued to beat violently, waves of the sacred jewel shard’s energy continuously flowing through him. He pulled himself off of the hilt of his sword, his body not wanting to comply. He let out a growl that turned into hissing between his teeth. His body felt like it started to creak as he began to take one step opposite of Kohaku. He took another, then another, and another until it was a jagged and forced pace away from the boy, forcing himself to keep his balance and keep himself away from his weapon.

The empty depths of Inuyasha's mind slowly began to feel as if it became tighter and closer to him, what he was seeing through his eyes came closer into view.

He tried to hold out his arms in front of him, as he slowly made his way over to a tree. He placed his hands on the rough bark, groaning in pain and frustration. Making sure he had a good grip, he pulled his head back and slammed it into the bark. The impact caused the dense tree to get a dent in it, wooden chips beginning to jut out of it. Inuyasha hissed his teeth, digging his forehead into the bark before pulling it back again. He slammed his head into it again, and again, and again. Wooden splinters flew and the tree leaves rustled with every impact. The more he slammed his head, the more control over what he felt and what he did spilled back into his body.

“Dammit. Dammit! Dammit!”

His slamming stopped, and Inuyasha's breathing was labored as the half demon finally returned to his own body. He felt like he was touching the tree with no effort, no longer forcing his body to do what he wanted. All of his muscles relaxed, the pain from his internal struggle settling in as his shoulders slumped and his arms fell beside his waist. The hair that kept itself raised above his body fell back onto him, resting itself on his shoulders and back. Inuyasha shook his head and blinked out the red and green in his eyes as his irises returned to a hazy amber.

Kohaku watched the incident, his concern towards Inuyasha keeping him from running away.

"Mr. Inuyasha…?"

Inuyasha huffed, standing up straight to turn around and look at the boy.

"My bad."

"Are you okay…?"

"Yeah."

"Ah… you're bleeding," Kohaku said, pointing out the blood leaking from the new split in his forehead. It was relatively small, but still enough to leave a mark. At least on humans.

Inuyasha shrugged.

“You’re still coming with me to this village?”

“Yes! Of course,” Kohaku said, getting to his feet again.

Inuyasha nodded, going back over to his Tessaiga and pulled it from the earth and returned it into its scabbard. Without looking back at the boy, he continued on his path and hoped that Kohaku would follow behind him.

Why did I… slaughter all of those bandits like that? I didn't even mean to kill those first two… Just wanted to scare them off or something.

He scratched his neck as he thought, reminiscing over the awful feeling of losing control of his body. Inuyasha ran his hands up his face, feeling his skin and made sure that it was him who was in control of feeling this sensation. He ran a hand through his white hair, his nails getting caught on knots of it. He kept letting his fingers run through, a twinge of pain poking him as he accidentally pulled a couple of strands loose from his scalp. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but it grounded him knowing that he himself caused him to feel that and nothing else.

It has to be this sacred jewel shard… I need it out.

He slipped his hand through the collars of his clothing and placed it above where his heart would be. His heartbeats were a lot faster than he remembered. His fingers curled, nails pressing up against his skin as if to pierce it-- but he didn't do it. He contemplated the idea of taking out the shard from his heart but… it was in his heart. Would it really be worth tearing that out and then bleeding to death?

Inuyasha shook his head and pulled his hand out from his clothes. He couldn't do it, so he kept on walking.

His ears twitched and he began to focus on his surroundings. He could hear Kohaku walking behind him, but he sounded farther away. As expected, Inuyasha didn't expect him to be as trusting of him as before.

----

The sun setting doused the sky in a luxurious red and orange, the heat of the day quickly faded into a comfortable cool atmosphere. A woman with long black hair dressed in the garbs of a priestess entertained a group of children at her feet.

“Lady Kikyo! Lady Kikyo! Please, please, please play with us!” a young boy cried out, tugging on her bright red hakama.

“My apologies, young Hitachiin, but it's best you go back to your mother. She'll be worried about you. The rest of you should do the same. I must head back to my quarters,” she said, looking down at the children with a small but warm smile on her lips.

The children whined and aww’ed, only leaving with a bit more urging of the priestess. She waved them goodnight as they all scrambled to get back home before the sun set for the night. The dirt and gravel crunched underneath her sandals as she returned to a small home the villagers left her. Her smile faded as uneasiness settled in her stomach.

There are… two sacred jewel shards that are approaching… and one is tainted.

Inuyasha sniffed the air around him, stopping his pace in his tracks.

“I smell something."

"Oh no… Is it another group of bandits?"

"No. No, it smells completely different. Like graveyard soil and bones… Ugh,” Inuyasha knocked his head with a fist and scratched his head furiously.

“Mr. Inuyasha…?” Kohaku asked, taking a step back.

“I’m not losing it again, cool it. Something is just eating at my brain from the inside out. I’ve gotta know what this smell is coming from,” Inuyasha said, feeling a dull spot in his memories that he tried to reach for. It felt too far away. He would have to wait again.

The smell was faint, but beneath it was something more familiar. His eyebrows furrowed with the slightest bit of curiosity towards it, like it drew him to it.

A soft glow permeated the darkness in between the trees ahead of them, something emerging from them. They cascaded above the two boys, and took the shape of long, pale, insect-like eels. They moved like blankets gliding through the air, the light they emitted drawing Inuyasha and Kohaku’s eyes to them.

"Soul collectors?" Inuyasha asked.

"Those belong to that priestess," Kohaku said.

Inuyasha snapped around to look at the boy, exclaiming, "Priestess?!"

Kohaku recoiled from the shout, but loosened up. "Yes… I overheard from Naraku that her name was ‘Kikyo’."

Inuyasha's heart fell, and sucked in a long and deep breath. He looked in the direction the soul collectors came from, and without a word he sprinted towards the source.

"Wait! Mr. Inuyasha, wait for me!" Kohaku’s voice quickly faded from the splitting distance between them.

The soul collectors had guided him to her before. They'd guide him again.

Kikyo readied her bow and arrow, preparing herself to aim at whatever was approaching her with increasing speed. She leaned against a wall and stared at the doorway, its entrance obscured by a long and thick cloth to block visibility from both inside and out.

Inuyasha's feet planted harshly on the ground in front of the lonesome house. The smell was obviously coming from in there, it enveloped him and locked itself in his clothes and his hair. He was met face to face with the cloth obscuring the door and inside, his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a bow's string being pulled back. The possibility of Kikyo being inside of this house, in his grasp again, made him wary.

The last memory that was clear to him was seeing her cold eyes carving their way into his soul as Kikyo sentenced him into an eternal slumber. And then he woke up.

He took a breath and stepped forward, stopping just short of the entrance when an arrow flew past his face, the light trailing behind it fading into the distance. Despite the close call, he wasn't scared even if he heard another arrow being drawn.

Inuyasha's lips quivered as he pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside the house, the pressure from the atmosphere outside dissipating into nothing. He was met with a bow and arrow pointing directly at him, the same cold eyes boring into him as when he had first died.

"Kikyo," he said, his tone harsh.

She did not respond at first, but she lowered her bow slightly and lessened the stress on the bow string.

"Inuyasha, what are you doing here?" she asked sharply, seeing the blood doused on his face and clothing.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Inuyasha wanted to come closer to her, to figure out why she smelled like that.

"Don’t move. Tell me why you have a jewel fragment."

He wasn't surprised that she knew. “I got it from someone.”

“Tell me who.”

Inuyasha had a feeling she wouldn't like his answer. He prepared himself mentally for the backlashlash as he uttered the name, “Naraku”.

The stress on the drawstring increased as Kikyo focused on her target.

“To think you would sink so low to ally yourself with your own enemy for a slice of power… I'm disgusted. Why do you affiliate with him?” Kikyo snapped.

My own enemy?

“Answer me!”

“Kikyo, what do you know about Naraku?”

She squinted at him, her cold stare dampening a bit. “Don't play the fool, Inuyasha. Now answer my question.”

“Look, I've got no idea what the hell you mean by my ‘enemy’. He's more trustworthy than you ever could be; he promised me a sacred jewel shard and I got it,” Inuyasha growled, reminiscing over his last moments before being sealed on that tree. “...and when you had promised me the entire jewel-- look where that got me.”

Kikyo hissed under her breath.

“You betrayed me, Kikyo.”

“Kagome.”

Inuyasha blinked at the girl's name leaving Kikyo’s mouth. “Huh?”

“Kagome. Does the name mean anything to you?”

Inuyasha's teeth gritted, the name “Kagome” scratching at places in his memory that didn't exist. “No-- hardly.”

“So you've forgotten,” she said, lowering her bow and arrow. “Your memories have obviously been erased, and more than likely it's from Naraku. Either that, or you're just an impressive actor.”

“I ain't acting about anything.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Even then, to think you would fall prey to his shallow words… I cannot help but feel disappointed.”

“Kikyo, you need to answer some of my questions now,” Inuyasha said.

“Ask them with haste, once you're done, leave at once.”

“Leave?” Her telling him to get out struck a nerve in his heart, taking offense to it more than he should have.

“Your presence will be a burden in this village. Both yours and the other jewel shard holder. It's not as if they would be kind to a demon covered in the blood of his fallen enemies.”

Inuyasha slapped a hand onto his cheek realizing the dried blood of the bandits remained on his face, congealed and hard. He tried to pick some of it off before focusing on the conversation again.

“Kikyo, the other person who had the shard was a kid, at least I’m pretty sure he has a shard. The only reason this blood is on me is because I was protecting him,” Inuyasha responded.

Except the blood stuck to his hand did not belong to those enemies.

“A child?” she asked, focused on that jewel shard slowly coming closer to them. “Tell me, were you protecting the child, or the jewel they possess?”

“It's my turn to ask questions, Kikyo.”

Kikyo glared at him, silencing herself to listen.

“Since you didn't answer me earlier, what do you know of Naraku?”

“Naraku… Inuyasha, you should not ally with him. He in turn was the one who had gotten us both killed.”

“...What? Kikyo, are you dead?”

“Not long after I had bound you to that tree, I succumbed to my own injuries. Inuyasha, much has happened since you were unsealed.”

“Is that why you smell like that?”

Kikyo nodded. “My grave was disturbed, and I am now sentenced to an eternity of roaming this land. At least until my supply of souls runs out, or until this vessel crumbles to pieces.”

“Those soul collectors really must be yours, then.”

“They are. Have you anymore questions? If not, then go.”

“I've got one more question. What do you know about Kagome? And what is she to me?”

“Kagome and I are one in the same. She is my reincarnated soul. What she is to you is none of my business. I cannot walk you through this struggle. Your memories are yours, and you must leave this responsibility to yourself to restore them. ”

Kikyo dropping the fact that Kagome and her shared the same soul without any regard towards how he might react hit him like a boulder rolling down a cliff. His head spun as he processed the sudden statement.

“That was your last question. Leave,” Kikyo said, gesturing her head back at the entrance Inuyasha came through.

“Mr. Inuyasha?” a voice called from outside.

Inuyasha slipped over to the obscured entrance with ease, brushing the curtain aside to peek his head out. Kohaku panted, his jog slowing as he rested his hands on his knees to take in heavy breaths.

“Yo.”

Kohaku perked up, his face lighting up with relief upon knowing that he had finally caught up. “You finally found the village!”

“Mm,” Inuyasha turned back to look at Kikyo who continued to glare at him. “Kikyo, let us stay for tonight. At least just let the kid stay.”

Kikyo's eyes narrowed in agitation but she just closed her eyes and turned away. “Do as you please, but once you wake up in the morning, don't let the villagers see you.”

Inuyasha's eyes softened, gazing at Kikyo before blinking and having his eyes travel back to Kohaku, who was still hunched over as he tried to recover from the excruciating sprint. “Come on, Kohaku.”

The young boy wobbled inside, Inuyasha holding up the curtain for him as he entered the tiny house. He stared up at the priestess in awe as he felt her spiritual energy purifying any darkness that tainted the room, as if she were her own source of energy. Being in her presence made him nervous from hearing Naraku’s animosity towards her in the past. He did not share those feelings, but he felt that being near her might prove to be dangerous.

Inuyasha yawned. “Are we supposed to sleep right here?”

“I do not care. But know that I will be keeping watch over you throughout the night.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and sauntered over to the farthest part of the room and sat in a corner, plopping on the ground with his arms folded. Kohaku leaned against a wall for support but slowly fell to his knees, and gently lay himself on the ground. Within a few seconds, his body which trembled with exhaustion now only twitched in his sleep.

Damn, he falls asleep fast. Inuyasha thought to himself.

Kikyo sat against the furthest wall across from Inuyasha, making sure that he and Kohaku would remain in her sight for the entire night. Inuyasha occasionally shot wary glances at the priestess who stared back at him. He would huff and turn his head away to look at Kohaku who was sprawled on the floor. Needless to say, he slept like a rock.

It felt like Inuyasha had been awake, but his mind had settled down. He didn't realize how dark it was before noticing that his eyes felt glued shut. He felt himself drooping over but couldn't bring himself to sit up straight again. The creaking of floorboards swirled through his head, his ears twinging at the muffled sound. His surroundings came clearing to his hearing as he heard footsteps approaching him.

They paused and knelt in front of him, Inuyasha feeling a mellow pressure surrounding him. A cold hand slipped in his robe, goosebumps immediately running up all over his skin and waking him up. He snapped up to look at the person who dare to violate him in his sleep, the perpetrator pulling their hand back. Inuyasha’s sharp golden eyes locked with Kikyo’s, whose sorrowful black eyes reflected the half demon’s. Inuyasha tensed up, but let his muscles relax upon feeling that she meant no harm.

Soft blue lights floated around her, emitter by her soul collectors that had returned to her. They watched over her like guardians, cradling the souls of numerous dead women in their limbs.

"Inuyasha, your shard is tainted," she said as she let her hands get close to his chest again. "You mustn't let it consume you."

Inuyasha stared at her as she focused on the jewel fragment imbued in his heart. Kikyo pulled aside the robe and garment underneath to see Inuyasha's bare skin. It was still riddled with goosebumps from Kikyo’s cold touch. Her temperature was not that of an average human, yet the spiritual energy she began to pour into him balanced it out. The sensation of a weight being lifted off of him flooded through his body, the harsh expression that stayed locked on his face melted away.

Light glowed between them, from both the Shikon jewel fragment and from Kikyo’s resounding energy. Both of their hairs hovered above their clothes, wisping around as if they were being cradled in the wind.

It was the same as when Kagome had shot him with her arrow, the evil influence from the Shikon jewel shard being forced out temporarily. The thick outline on Inuyasha’s eyelashes lessened, the soft but affirmative gaze that was written in Inuyasha’s eyes returned to him. His mind felt clear, and the image of him next to a girl enveloped him with the feeling of comfort and acceptance. He could remember the feeling of her hand clasped with his, their grip on one another reflecting the trust between the two.

Inuyasha's face flushed in a light red as Kikyo did not move her hand. His heart beat against her palm, the pulsing no longer hurting as much from the jewel shard.

"Your pulse feels different."

He gulped. Hard.

"Kikyo. It feels like it's only been a few days since I woke up from the seal. Even so, I still missed you," Inuyasha said looking away from her, his eyes flickering around the room.

"You've been awake for a while," Kikyo said, removing her hand.

Inuyasha's shard glowed with a pure light, almost as if it was no longer in him. He grabbed the priestess' hand, reluctant for her to go so soon. Kikyo looked down at her hand in his, then up at Inuyasha’s face.

His heart felt like it was beating in his throat as he stared at her in awe. A faint blush painted Kikyo’s cheeks as the two refused to break eye contact. He sighed and they closed their eyes, leaning into one another. Kikyo’s hand slipped from Inuyasha’s, leading both of hers to his jawline. He moved his hands to her waist and pulled her closer to him. Their lips pressed against one another's, the half-demon and undead priestess taking their time to run their fingers through each other's hair.

Inuyasha felt… content. He felt happy. Relieved. The two were tense earlier, but like how times where before they had both died, they enjoyed being alone near one another. Well, almost alone.

Lighter footsteps filtered in Inuyasha’s ears. He blinked open his eyes and pulled away from Kikyo to take a deep breath when he saw a flash of a blade from behind Kikyo. He sucked in a harsh breath, almost choking on it and shot up to his feet. He tightly grabbed Kohaku’s wrist, no regards to holding back his strength. The young boy stared through him, his eyelids drooping.

The boy held his Kusarigama in his hand, his grip on it not firm at all.

“How interesting it is that you chose to spare this boy's life after threatening the woman you love,” he crooned.

Inuyasha's hold on Kohaku's wrist loosened, his head cocking to the side. The corners of Kohaku's mouth cracked into a slight but unnerving smile, a smile that was shared with Naraku.

“What the hell?” Inuyasha growled.

“Be careful of which side you choose to take, Inuyasha,” he said, chuckling at the end of his sentence with his shoulders bouncing lightly.

When his laughter died, Kohaku's body fell limp onto Inuyasha. The Kusarigama slipped out of the boy's hand, its blade impaling itself in the wooden floorboards as its attached chain pooled on the ground next to it. Inuyasha fumbled to let go of his wrist and catch his body, the dead weight pushing him back a little. Kohaku's eyes shut, his breathing heavy and relaxed.

“He's asleep…?”

“It's Naraku. His malice towards me runs deep,” Kikyo said, a balled up fist pressed against her chest.

“Why?”

“I will not risk yours or that boy's safety by explaining. Within time, you will learn. But it cannot be from me,” she said, getting up to her feet and heading for the exit of the tiny house. Her soul collectors stayed by her side, one wrapping around her like a scarf.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere in particular. But do not forget, once you and your comrade wake up in the morning, you must leave. Immediately,” and without a word Kikyo left, her soul collectors trailing behind her.

Inuyasha watched dismay, his heart sinking down to his stomach as he held the young boy in his arms. He clenched his teeth, his eyes furrowing with frustration. Before letting his anger get to his head, he took a deep breath to sigh and shake his head. He rested Kohaku down on the floor near him and he rolled over onto his side, his breathing undisturbed by the prior conflict.

The half demon watched over Kohaku for what seemed like hours to make sure that Naraku did not return to the boy's body. He did not see Kikyo return. Inuyasha watched as the cold darkness of the room shifted into that of a warm one as the sun rose past the blocked out windows and door. He remained still and silent, waiting for Kohaku to wake up. Within time, Kohaku’s shifting around in his sleep got more frequent, groaning in discomfort. He blinked open his eyes to see Inuyasha staring down at him, his eyes widening in shock-- but he didn’t scream at the sight. He let out a deep breath to replace the option to scream as he realized he wasn’t in immediate danger.

Inuyasha’s expression did not change, looking at the boy with flat eyes.

Kohaku rubbed his eyes and yawned, pressing on his hands to use as a support so he could sit up.

“Hello, Mr. Inuyasha.”

Definitely Kohaku. He only refers to me as “Mr.”

Inuyasha stared blankly into Kohaku’s eyes, taking in every detail about it so that he wouldn’t forget. The relieved and calm expression in them did not compare to the flat, lifeless, and empty eyes he saw as he tried to attack Kikyo. Kohaku’s head cocked to the side, growing wary of Inuyasha’s silence.

Inuyasha blinked to snap himself out of his haze.

“Let’s go, Kohaku.”

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