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so… im trans a girl my pronouns are she/her i came out on cgd Something about it makes me really want to post in this blog this feels like something one of you would post meaningful poetry about but i am not a poet, so I will just dump some words here … *can’t find any* *decides to recycle past words for some reason* hmmm I’ve been staring at that quite a bit. it feels… really good *recycles again* Yes, that is very wrong formatting. Quoting is… weird on my device. so I am a girl. that feels really good… *continues* ummm as I’ve said, I never have conclusions *tosses in more recycle*

I find it horribly ironic and honestly kinda fascinating just how far my voice has shifted from what it was when I originally joined Like, initially I was chaotic and childish and kinda stupid. That was for a variety of reasons, but that tone is just…not here anymore? I want to present like that. To yap and be energetic. It’s fun, and I assume that’s what people relate with me. For some reason tho, I just can’t Sorry if you miss that person. Honestly, I don’t know if she’s coming back (this is stupid and angsty, I know. I just needed to say it)

Measure up, they say “Be like the others, it’s not that hard” But I see the others And they’re dying as much as I am, heart, body and soul Measure up, they say To the ones who work now, relax later To the ones who we have lost, long ago Work and die now, be dead later Measure up, they say When the cup has no bottom and each accomplishment, each success falls into the void Measure up, they say As a projection of self As if saying that will solve all their problems as well as mine As if they’re not perpetuating a loop that has existed as long as we have

it's me :3

The waters prevailed over the mountains, covering them seven meters deep. life is death we struggle to find who we are and see so clearly who we were by then we have died the old drowning in empty time to stay the same is to give up rebirth a walking grave, static and stagnant a corpse moving with the current drowning in a world of water Don’t let yourself be pulled under listen to your conscience fly above the water and find an olive tree to rest and watch the rainbow some fly away and never return dark and independent those it has left wait forever don’t forget to fly but be a dove

*Note* This is a beginning to a possible story. Feedback welcome and appreciated! *End Note* Atee stuck to the shadows as he crept through the alleyway. The whole point of stalking someone was to not let them know you were following them. His cloak helped him hide- it was one of the fourteen items, after all. The Forgotten Cloak. All of a sudden, the person Atee was following dodged around a few people, making Atee lose sight of them. “Sights!” Atee cursed, starting to jog. They were nowhere to be found. “Come back!” he hissed under his breath, checking over his shoulder before crossing the street. A few wagons clomped by lazily, but he was able to avoid those without much trouble. “Where’d you go,” he mused thoughtfully, pausing by an old abandoned building. “I’m right here.” Hands grabbed at Atee, covering his mouth. His scream stopped short and his eyes were quickly blindfolded. His cloak was ripped off, and he felt himself become… different. “Knock him out,” a different voice said. Atee thrashed, but quickly another set of hands pinned him down, and a sweet smelling rag was placed over his nose. He tried as long as he could to hold his breath, but it wasn’t long before it all faded to black. — “Wake him up.” “He’s coming around, boss.” Atee blinked slowly, the light setting off a painful headache as it hit his eyes. He thrashed, struggling to think through things. What? What had- yes. Everything came back to him in a flash. He had been following Knaa. Then… then what? He… he had been caught? How? He was wearing the Forgotten Cloak. The Forgotten Cloak! Atee tried to lift his hands, but they were tied tightly to the chair. “Where?” Atee asked. Or rather, thanks to the gag in his mouth, he asked, “gheair?” “See! I told you he was coming around, boss!” That came from a man off to the side. He was wearing a short brown trench coat and hat with a peaked brim. Atee glared at him. “So you did,” a man said, stepping forward directly into Atee’s line of sight. Tall and masculine, the man had a black mask covering his nose and eyes. His monochromatic outfit really set off the look, highlighting his pale blue eyes. Grabbing Atee’s chin, the man tilted Atee’s face from side to side, looking at him. “Thsssoppt st,” Atee hissed. “Remove it,” the man said coldly, releasing Atee. The man with the brown trench coat stepped forward, then took out the gag. Atee spat, clearing his throat. “Now what was that?” the man asked pleasantly, folding his hands in front of him. Atee scowled, saying nothing. “Hmm, nothing to say?” The man took a step back. “Well, that’s okay, I can do all the talking. My name is Kiil, and you are clearly Atee, the holder of the 12th object.” “How do you know that? How did you find me?” Atee blurted out. He never had been good at holding his tongue. It was part of why he needed the cloak. “It was pretty obvious,” Kiil said in response to his first question, turning slightly to the side to show that he was wearing Atee’s cloak. “You realize you can’t control it, right?” Atee said, straining against his bonds. “You don’t have the Code.” Kiil twisted to look eerily at Atee. “Not yet I don’t,” the man said ominously. Oh sights no. Please no. Every fiber of Atee’s being wanted to hide, to run. But he couldn’t. He was stuck. “You won’t break me,” Atee said weakly, his voice faltering. “Oh,” Kiil said. “I will. I have.” “What do you mean?” Atee flinched as Kiil put his face in close. “It means I know how to do this.” Kiil said, taking a finger and laying it lightly on Atee’s neck, right where the scar was. Then he pressed down. Agony flared through Atee, white and hot. Lights flashed across his vision and he constricted, muscles tensing. The pain lessened for a moment, and Atee inhaled sharply, gulping air. “W-what?” he sputtered. Kiil, a fuzzy blur to Atee, took a step back, seeming pleased with himself. “I know things,” Kiil said. “And, to answer your question, you can’t be forgotten if we never lose sight of you.” Atee was shaken. They knew about his Point, and they knew about the Flaw of the Twelfth item. How? “Now,” Kiil said. “Tell me the Code.” “N-never.” Atee braced himself, but nothing could dull the flash of pain that tore through him as Kiil pressed down on his Point again. “Let’s try this again.” Kiil’s voice turned cold, and he met Atee’s tear filled eyes. “What is the Code?” “I won’t tell you,” Atee hissed. Kiil pressed down on Atee’s Point once more, and Atee forced himself to go limp after a moment, feigning unconsciousness. “What?” Kiil said, his grip on Atee loosening. “Why did he go limp?” “He must have passed out from the pain, boss.” That would be the minion. Atee slowed his breathing and just listened. “No! I need that Code!” There was a clatter- likely Kiil tipping over the table that was in the corner of the room. “Just go back again, boss. Use the item.” “This will be the fourteenth time. We can’t use it now.” “It only has side effects to those who know about it being used. He’s unconscious. He doesn't know anything, boss.” After a moment, Kiil spoke. “Fine. Put your hand on it.” Taking a huge gamble, Atee peered out through his eyelashes, squinting to make it less obvious. In his hand, Kiil held an antique watch. The servant placed a finger around the edge, and Kiil slowly cranked it back, rewinding the hands a bit. Wait. What was that? Atee noticed a small etching along the side of the clock. His eyes opened completely as he realized it was in the shape of the number eleven. That meant… Kiil released the winding of the clock, and everything dissolved into colors and light. — Atee stuck to the shadows as he crept through the alleyway. The whole point of stalking someone was to not let them know you were following them. His cloak helped him hide- it was one of the fourteen items, after all. The Forgotten Cloak. All of a sudden, the person Atee was following dodged around a few people, making Atee lose sight of them. “Sights!” Atee cursed, starting to jog. They were nowhere to be found. “Come back!” he hissed under his breath, checking over his shoulder before- Wait. He had done this before. A sort of awareness came to Atee, jolting him and bringing him to a stop. What was going on? He remembered… he remembered… he remembered the pain. The flashes of agony. He remembered the man, Kiil, and the object. The eleventh object. He had to go. Whispering a silent command to his cloak, Atee faded away into the shadows.

Two today. Or something

this is cool

body text

Do you remember? When we talked about the future, like we had any idea of what was to come? When the days seemed to never end? Like time slowed down Do you remember? When we thought it would all end up alright Me something professional, you something creative Like we had any control in the matter Do you remember? It was so long ago, so I doubt you do But I do Like it was just yesterday…

Having thoughts not my own Having doubts not my own Having opinions not my own Having experiences not my own Every day not my own Every second not my own It started as a moment, a moment of weakness Moments turned days, and days turned weeks, and weeks turned months, and months turned years Now noting is my own, only a copy of someone else A whole life lived, but was it my own?

your ree

Yuri This one is so wholesome I love it

Sometimes, as now (I think), I don't know what I want. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed or get so and then I can no longer decide what I want, even if I could recently. Or perhaps it's more subtle and build-up than that but I have no clue! I am rethinking my whole identity and everything I wanted or thought I did. I decided on growing my hair out but didn't quite know. Now I think it looks good how it is—not long but not really short. Would it look good long/er? Should I keep it as-is or whereabouts? I realized I do not like computer science anymore as a career goal or main interest, and of course am second-guessing my listening to my reservations. Now, what do I like? Do I actually like art and writing or is that a passing phase or something I'll lose interest in or— Do I like philosophy or just a certain type of it; did I buy those books to read for myself or to read and be able to say so, or to read for their supposed knowledge I "require"? What do I not like that I think I do? Why does it feel as though I lose interest when an interest is brought in focus? When I tell someone I like art or wish to do more, or have an idea or such, then I no longer feel motivation or the same interest as before. Once said aloud it disappears. I once had a dream I created an amazing VR game that was somewhat terrifying and realistic. I don't remember much but upon waking I yearned to create like that—to create just that. But that was better kept in my head, I don't think I told anyone. Saying something—"oh, I want to write a novel"—removes it from your mind, it exposes the unfeasability, discourages. Or perhaps something else. Perhaps to have it affirmed invalidates your low confidence and your doubt or knowledge of your needing to learn and... tells you you can do it now, what are you waiting for, so you stop and forget it. Chasing the unattainable or simply procrastinating, "I'm going to write a novel," versus being confronted with the truth that you need to, you must and you can or you can't, "then write it." I just corrected a typo I had missed, it said "Ok Not Knowing," not "On Not Knowing," and perhaps I should be, as they tell me. Though how can I make choices when such is the case? How can I move forward? I don't know what I want and I can't think or do anything, I don't know what is true and real or what I like, or think. When faced with choices and unable to make them I feel pressured and confused and do not know a thing, I question whether what I wanted prior was ill-informed of not, and whether I should listen to others, "just" or otherwise. I don't know what I want, but I don't want to continue on, I want change or to say goodbye. It's just wholly too much (did I use that right?) I feel dizzy and confused while I have to make choices, I feel like I have no time at all and what I have is wasted. What do I wear tomorrow, who am I going to be? I feel sometimes lile the world goes to fast, and others. I need them to slow down, I need to think, or perhaps I just want to escape and delay. Sometimes they make decisions for me, sometimes I obtain misery from not doing. There's too much to think about, too many paths, and I can't hold them all, can't take them all into account, when the majority are unsolved. It would be so much easier to just have it away, to escape, no choices ot decisions anymore or then, and nothing to worry about, just running... There's too much for a day and for my mind or a page or an hour a week of therapy. I feel nauseous and did not drink enough in this heat, nor eat? I have my tasks—too many—some necessary others necessary. Some required, others I need for other reasons, to feel like I am someone, not just moving through each day not doing anything just moving just waiting, I need to write I need to create or I am nothing, am I already? I am nothing and no one if I do nothing or choose nothing, if I do so for months and years too. I need to figure my life out but I'm too sick to do so. I'm not even rightly depressed proper as an identity; I am no one. I am cold and I am sick, sitting on my Unmade bed. I told myself last night to not use the Shard today for it would do no good and has done only bad. I am clueless what truth or falsehood this holds, but I would feel better to not have it to blame. It takes up my time, anyway—should I throw my phone away? I am no one and I finally feel that true.

Topics:gender If you do not feel comfortable with any of the topic(s) listed above, read no further. I will not spoiler the text in this blog to accommodate for you. This is your only warning. Unfortunately we don't ever get to be pure, you know. Because there are people out there who influence us and who guide us. What does it mean to be trans? The definition is easy enough to find: Someone who's gender identity does not align with that assigned at birth. But that's just a word salsa Being trans isn't about just being different. It's about a journey with many steps, one that can't be skipped. Admittedly, the way I looked at being trans has evolved over time. Originally, I presumed I had the courage to simply become a dynamic force and get straight to presenting feminine, and wearing feminine clothes. I thought that it would be simple, getting through the steps. But over time, that warped into something different. I couldn't become a dynamic force, because I was shaped by the social structure around me. I could not even alter my gender expression a bit for fear of others noticing. So it became a waiting game, like a spider in a web. I never once wore any gender affirming clothing outside of locked doors, and I never once used a different name outside of tightly controlled spaces. And there are so many other changes, like how initially I focused on how good it would be later on and now I only focus on how I can make my position slightly more inline with who I am. Gender isn't really a clear concept to me either. I found that androgyny is more comforting to me than hyperfeminine styles, even though I consider myself transfeminine. It became a representation of a position where I would merely be more happy. Whether it aligned well with labels became completely irrelevant. There is a part of me that worries that when I encourage trans/cis people to question their gender or affirm their gender or guide them with getting started that I am detracting from this vital journey of self discovery. I really hate people who impose things on others, whether or not it is in the best interest of that individual. And I don't want to become someone like that, because I took an oath to myself that I would never become those people that I hate It is incredibly hard to tell when you're overstepping a line, because they are not drawn well. In the same way, there is a part of me that wants to share the joys of being trans with the world. and then there is a part of me that needs to remember that I don't get to decide when other people take their journeys it's hard to show restraint sometimes, especially since no one rewards you or even notices what you don't say[/s], which is arguably harder to figure out that what you do end up saying. It takes a lot of discipline, a skill I am attempting to improve. That's enough for now.

cute

I love how it dances. It is unrestrained, it does whatever it wants. It lights up the world, the glows so many beautiful hues. It is not matter, but it is close to being alive. It dances from here to there, bringing destruction in it's wake. For many it is terror, but even that is beauty. For all the pain it causes, we harnessed it for warmth. It is the air we breath, and what we make out of it. It breaths like we do, it eats like we do. Who is to say it isn't alive? It dances like we do, it destroys like we do. Who is to say it isn't alive like we are?

Love? I wish I could spend every day with her. If only I had not returned. If only I had not left. Each day of those few were the best of my life— and the start of a new one. Each day I sought her, Sat sown, talked. Just sitting by her, Was more than I could ask for. Doing anything, with her, no matter how boring, was what made the days, something I wanted. Each second I smiled. Did I love her, did she me? Now I'll never know. - Lily

From the Insanity Book / Deathnote Hangin' wit' da Girls Finally, I feel more alive than I ever have. More connected to reality, to these other living being. I feel like one of them, though my body still needs fixin'. Social Stuntin' I do it so they laugh—always have. I feel like I gotta vomit—but it's aight. I meed to fit in, stand out, be one, a human, just a girl. i wrote so much and so little.. - Lily

Delivered without much comment. Revisions are for Draft 2

This will probably be a short one. So there are a lot of mysteries and misdirection offered about the dark web, today I'm going to shed as much light as I can on the subject. The onion router(Tor) network is a series of volunteer run nodes(or computers) that allows people to route their browser traffic through them to avoid things like government surveillance and censorship. How it works is that your method of accessing the TOR network(which I recommend only using the Tor browser for) will select three of these nodes, an entry node, a relay node, and an exit node. Each one of these serves a crucial function. First your browser uses the public information from each of these relays to encrypt your data requests, first the exit node, then the relay, then the entrance node. The entry node is where your requests enter the Tor network, your browser sends the encrypted information to the entrance node, which is able to see your computer's IP address, but not that of the site you are visiting. This connection is similar to a VPN, but I will talk about the differences later. The entrance node then removes the first layer of encryption and sends the data to the relay node. The relay node does not know your computer's IP address, or what website you are visiting. The relay node removes the second level of encryption, and forwards the information to the exit node. The exit node removes the final layer of encryption, and with that is able to tell which website you wish to visit, and sends out your request to the open web, however neither the exit node, or the website you visit can see your IP address, or your location. Theoretically this provides near perfect anonymity to anyone who wishes to use the Tor network. Indeed the NSA(People say that the FBI is spying on American's internet usage, it's actually the NSA, but for all intents and purposes you can consider them the same), has admitted that mass surveillance over the Tor network is impossible. Believe me, they've tried. However, it's not fool proof, and there are some weaknesses that we need to be aware of. The Tor network isn't a free VPN. Now if you really just need to hide from your ISP or a network administrator such as your school or work, it would probably work just fine. They can tell you are using the Tor browser, but nothing else. However you can't choose the exit relay, and that does come with some vulnerabilities, such as not having control for geo-restricted content, and some relays have been found downgrading HTTPS connections to HTTP connections. Do not use HTTP connections over the Tor Network. Honestly you probably shouldn't use HTTP connections for any reason, but especially not over the Tor browser. If someone such as the NSA has the ability to monitor nearly all internet traffic they can over time build profiles. I.e. you started using the Tor network at this time, someone downloaded 45GB of content off of this website via the Tor network five minutes later, you received 45GB of data at the same time, and then both you and the exit relay that made the download turned off your computers at near the same time. Now they can't necessarily prove it was you from just that, but they can build a profile from it. If someone controls the entrance, relay, and exit nodes they can see who you are and what websites you visit. Multiple government organizations run Tor nodes for that reason. The dark web is similar, only that not only are you using the Tor network to connect to the website, but the website is using the Tor network to connect to you, meaning that a total of 6 nodes are being used, hiding both of you from each other. URL's on the dark web are completely randomly generated, but they all end in .onion. So you won't see something like 17thshard.com, instead you would see something like Qwfidanl54/dhffeihfjs8fhsih9rh=fshi.onion. That's not a real URL, don't try it. A lot of propaganda says that the dark web is only for criminals or hackers, that's not even close to true. While some do use the dark web, the dark web was created for a much higher purpose. Journalists and ordinary citizens in authoritarian countries use the dark web to find or post news the government wants to suppress, or simply to access the free internet. Researchers will post their findings there. The military uses the dark web for all kinds of things. Even businesses will sometimes use the dark web to create anonymous tip lines or to allow whistleblowers to report on their bosses without threat of punishment, even Facebook has a dark web domain. In short the Tor network and the dark web are useful tools for the world, and greater understanding is needed in regards both to what they are and to what they are not. A few other things really quick If you are worried about your internet service provider(ISP) or local government flagging you as a Tor user(as some do), you can use a VPN to connect to a server in a freer country and access the Tor network from there. As access to the Tor network is more difficult in some countries due to government crackdowns the Tor project has created snowflake to allow volunteers in free countries to operate bridges that will allow people in places like China, Iran, or Egypt to have free access to the Internet, by making it look like they are having a video call with you, https://support.torproject.org/anti-censorship/what-is-snowflake/. Which is something I plan to do once I have the resources to make it a reality.

this reminds me of yumi for some reason

(It's a title of a Linkin Park song) So... I'm listening to The Emptiness Machine for the second separate time. First time(s) was months ago, I think it was suggested by @Honors Spectral Image, or someone? I've been craving music like Linkin for weeks. Now, another song is on. Just shuffle- More the Victim now. This all goes back to what happened a few weeks ago, and some temporary great people I met. There was one who loved Linkin and other music, and another who liked this one song. I miss them both deeply, and so I'm trying to use music to remind myself of them- not sure how much it's working. Not only that but I also just developed a craving for this music, even while still with them. So I'm finally allowing myself - and allowed - it. Sometimes I struggle, when I *want* to feel a specific emotion or feeling or thought from something, but can't. Same when reading something and I want to get something out of it but can't understand or get anything and I can't focus on it, because I'm just trying to feel something. Not sure if that makes sense. Like, (and I realize I need to actually provide examples sometimes, because what I have in mind is likely not in mind for You, lol) when reading poetry or something I know I should get meaning or feel something from, I... just can't- or find it difficult. I end up re-reading or analyzing the words or just trying to get to the point where I can nod slowly at how thought-provoking and "deep" it probably is. Sigh. Unrelated, but you know how you can say something that sounds right and is "fancy" or will make you sound smart? There's actually a good scene from the movie Goodwill Hunting (it's rated R btw and uhhh don't watch it if you're young or whatever?), but basically this college student recited something from a book that sounded intellectual, to some college girls or whatever, and then the main character, Will, exposes that guy for being not what he sounds like, and Will talks smarter/burns him (verbally, of course). So yeah. Also basically this one phrase has been on my mind lately... it was probably on the internet somewhere when I looked up something about philosophy... "central to the human condition." As in "____ is central to the human condition." I don't fully even know what the human condition is, though I kinda do. But it sounds kinda scholarly, no? But if you don't actually know if it is correct, you can't use it? Though, I would/will/do just fall in the... perfectionism trap of not believing myself able to talk about something until I've read it all, understood it, and understand essentially everything in that field. Because, what if I say something that is incorrect or debunked or whatever, in that very field? How can I trust that my interpretation of some text is accurate? And, if no one (of few) agree(s) with you on something, it shouldn't necessarily disprove you? Maybe they just never thought of that. Or, you are simply wrong, they are right, you know no better and thus should not even be here- what are you doing here, with no expertise, stick to what you know, the basics, don't venture beyond. Just some thoughts- some I already wrote in a journal or thought of, some I thought of but didn't get down.

girls

gay

THIS TOOK SO LONG Maker sees and crafts his things They give the things they make design and so as they finish, they start anew Making things with no breaks Weaver makes her strung things bright She bobs the needle for colors true Up and down again, vibrance, the yarn tying For her picture is fully tight. Creator watches his art run. he ponders over what he's made He's what? Over pondering, he runs Art his watches creation. Tightly full, is picturesque She’s for tying, yarn that’s vibrant again Down and up, true colors for Needle that bobs, her bright things strung, her making woven. Broken, nothing, with things made, New starts, they finish them as so And design makings, their things that give Their things, crafty and seeing, Made

true this is so me

Opportunities present themselves And you must seek opportunities And your so bright And you’ll succeed And they don’t know The opportunities? They present themselves until theyre All that’s left. And then Me. A husk of a child. The opportunity crushing me The “such a bright young man” crushing me I am a boy. Whos a girl. Whos so bright. And won’t live past 20. I ask why. Why. Why. Why. I do things I love. but I hate them. For I am a child first and foremost. But my future is trying to chop me down. like a tree in a forest. and when I fall? what will those around hear.

yuri Might start posting uncaptioned images soon though cause these ones are harder to find

Thursday! Yay! yuri

yuu Originally I wanted to post this one but realized I had already done it haha~

A little while ago, I wrote a prologue for a story idea I had. I never even started the rest of the story, but I kinda like it on its own, even if most of the ideas for the story aren't there yet. Part of the reason I stopped writing for it was because I created two really interesting characters for the prologue... and then killed off both of them. And then the 'real' protagonist didn't seem as fun. Clearly I need to learn from Brandon, and make my Cenn character not as interesting as my Kaladin. Anyway here's the prologue (with profanity censored as to follow the rules of this site). Let me know what y'all think.

Because it's the most spoiler free, and most confusing Core rule here: (Which is found in the doc, but whatever) Rules will be listed here. Rules will be broken. They are flimsy, stupid rules that souls don’t really care to always keep.

So, I often ask people their favorite shade of green… so here’s a list! Once I went through, it was surprisingly short. But I started this blog so I need something! @Usseewa: Mint @Through The Living Grub: @Through The Living Star: Mint or Moss @Fizz9 Dark green “like grass” Also, people who didn’t respond: @CoolScrafty7 @GummyDragon

me

*Note* So, originally this poem was my attempt at writing a song, but a) I can't play any accompanying instrument, and b) I had no idea what anything besides rest of the song should be, so I decided to post it here. I hope you guys enjoy! (Also, I know the title has nothing to do with the poem itself, but it actually would have tied in if I ever finished the song) Every day is a challenge A mountain you have to surpass And you go about trying To measure up at last Some days you feel golden Like you've won a great big prize And you feel the love And feel the strength inside But then it all changes And nothing is the same But then it all changes And you feel like you're the one to blame Your world is spinning out of control And you know that you're broken But you want to look whole So you hide all your pain All your sorrow and heartache And you carry it alone Letting it push until... you... break.

cute

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To Learn I must learn, through life. "If it's easy am I doing it right?" Does it matter? Nature We were mot meant for classification—nothing was. It doesn't just fit into neat little boxes or boxes within boxes, some walled off and others connected with tunnels and red yarn. Confidence I now see— what they say. I can believe— in myself—my voice, my body, my mind. I can appreciate— and, finally, love myself. Place, Liminal Space Lily sat alone—hear down, but watching. They had sent her here the day before, and she'd done much of nothing all last evening. Now, eyes weary yet unable to rest, Lily picked at rubbery eggs as the others chatted. There was even one girl reading a book. Even though that girl wasn't actively socializing, Lily had seen her do so last evening. Plus, she at least had a book. Lily had asked about books that night after lying awake for what felt for hours. Apparently, she had to have brought her own—Lily had arrived with nothing but hospital scrubs. They probably had her old clothes somewhere, but ehe hadn't brought any books—that wasn't even a thought. Lily hugged her unsleeved arms close, not hungry—she hadn't had an appetite lately, and the food didn't help. Lily didn't want to be here, but she didn't have much of a choice. She wanted to at least talk to some of the others—it might help time pass quicker. However, she... found it very difficult. It's not like they'd hear her, anyway. And if she couldn't think of anything to say? Lily had to try. If she was going to survive this place, and do so when she got out, she'd need to actually do something—especially if the people here wouldn't. Note: my handwriting is messy and these are all handwritten so some words I couldn't/am too tired to figure out so and I can't remember yeah.. In a World Without all society, we could not classify us as one this that, but just one with a quality—behaviour. In a world like that we'd have a different experience and no carr of suppressors, only eccentrics and "old bugs." We'd have no care and no understanding but every thought and action and way of life, wouldn't be seen as—defined as— something abnormal, when I believe we are all insane. Dark World The world is dark—a silent alley in perpetual night silence, or a silent night broken by shouts and cries of anguish, cries for help that fall on deaf ears— deaf from their owner's own cries. Light World The world is a light place—a silent field and a summer afternoon bliss, or laughter and chatter from friends and from lovers, sound that you can close your eyes and drift to, or join in and forget. Grey World The world is a grey place—a numbing loop where time has no meaning, and the fog is too thick in your mind to break free, fog you don't notice, for it had always been there, fog that obscures as you walk off the edge. Simply joyous! - Lily

Do you ever see beauty in something mundane, random, or plain awful? There was an artwork once from someone young that I saw and I love it even though it would perhaps be considered poor in the general sense. I've heard of - and experienced - something similar. I doodle here and there. Well, they are considered doodles by most, I'd say. They aren't too good, and when I redraw it later in more detail or a bit of a larger scale etc., then I see what others likely do. Until then, however, a small doodle can look to my eyes like one of the greatest things I've ever created. Or, simply, a piece of art. I know that it's not very high-quality, but it is appealing to my eyes or it is nice, I'm not sure how to explain that part further. But, then there are accidental lines that curve just right and look great but are unreproduceable (is there a word for that?) Or something more than just a line or few. Then, when color is added, things can look amazing. I'm not sure how to describe this all, but certain things- generally art, even unintentional, but also nature or landscape as I'll get to later. By unintentional, I mean... idk, actually. But there can be something intended to be a doodle or collection of doodles that is beautiful to me. For the nature/landscape aspect, I very much enjoy taking pictures (just on my phone camera, and I'm not a professional or anything) of the landscape and scenery around me. The clouds are a big focus. I have many pictures of the clouds, and unfortunately have to delete some, mainly duplicates or "ugly" ones, to clear up space... I might look into getting some printed out, as I would very much like having physical photographs of them. Both the permanence ot tangibility of a physical photograph rather than digital file, and also being able to flip through them- either by hand or in a photo album of sorts. Anyway, I love the clouds. I have pictures of when they were pink, when the sun was shining through, the winter clouds, sunset clouds, etc. I don't always get photos and I wish I did. I feel like I have less than I think, to be honest. There is still this time that will possibly haunt me forever as a regret. It wasn't necessarily the clouds (as I take of landscape too), but it was sunset or so, and there was a building that was silhouetted and it looked beautiful in my eyes. Perhaps it wasn't to others', but it was to me- and I don't have many, if any, silhouette photographs. I did not take a picture, even though I could've, and I regret it. But it's in the past, and the regret has lessened. For landscape, I love trees, elevated terrain, and others. I love the combination of cloud and land, especially. Like what's-his-name (Remi, maybe?) in the movie Ratatouille, when you put them together... Sometimes I can't get a good photo, or it doesn't turn out good. Trees or buildings in the way, or I my fingers are numb from the cold and I can't frame it so I take more blindly. And zooming can be hard, as the full photo doesn't always look the best, or has things I don't want in it. But zoomed in can look less detailed and not have the full beauty of the landscape. There was this one time, I was with someone and took a photo of some buildings and this column of smoke from some industrial thing I assume. They asked why I was taking the photo, or maybe "what could be beautiful in that?" I didn't respond, or gave a simple dismissive/avoidance one. The honest truth was that I saw a certain kind of beauty in it, and, though I've only perhaps admitted this to one person, I want to use photos as art. I want them to be art, and have meaning. I want to be able to use them in an art project or an album cover, but am reluctant to tell anyone for fear of them either not understanding, or breaking an illusion I perhaps don't realize I have - or realize subconsciously yet hide from - the illusion that these are not just ordinary amateur photos and that I will become someone or create something. So, another thing is that sometimes I sit at my desk or somewhere in general, inside or out, and I really sit/stand and look at my surroundings in a new way. Perhaps it's a form of mindfulness, I am now realizing. But I look at something ordinary - not necessarily an object, but perhaps a collection of objects and the surroundings, or just the area - and I see beauty. I see something so ordinary and unassuming yet so... beautiful or... innocent, sometimes; since the scene or objects do not know they are beautiful, and neither do passerby. Perhaps that is not the right word, but yeah. It makes me look at the world - if only that one point - with new eyes, new wonder, new beauty and new seeing. One night I was out and it was raining. It was completely dark save the street lights and occasional car. I don't remember all that of the night but I was hurrying to shelter ot enjoying the rain, I don't remember which- for a reason I do. The sidewalks and road were wet with rain, the light reflecting in them. I wanted to capture the moment, what I saw. Or perhaps I wanted to create beauty where I saw potential- the less desirable narrative, though perhaps more truthful. Either way, I took some photos in different places as I was walking or perhaps running, and some turned out fairly good- I still have them (it wasn't that long ago) and revisited them while writing this. There is a beauty that I see in... buildings and such for lack of a more descriptive or better phrase. Signs of human life or presence, especially when none of the kind of their creators are present (in other words, no humans). When it appears as if the place is abandoned- that even the being behind the camera is not there. Perhaps this is described by the term "liminal photography," one I have discovered relatively recently. Perhaps not, perhaps sometimes. Sometimes the oddest things can look beautiful to me, and I feel the urge to capture a moment in a photograph- a frozen moment in time.

Happy Pride Month! here take some yuri (I think it's yuri. it could be yuri if interpreted like that) Don't worry. There's more yuri for today (comes out at the normal time), including a YURI RECOMMENDATION!!! Because it's pride month, yay! (Or gay?)

This honestly should have been one of my first entries, but better late than never. Permissions in their most basic form are the ways that your devices manage what apps can access what sorts of information. Managing what applications have access to that information is necessary for any sort of privacy. The exact permissions your device recognizes depends on your OS, but generally they have the following SMS Contacts Photos and Videos Nearby Devices Camera Phone Music and Audio Call Logs Microphone Location Calendar Notifications Account info And several others In general, no apps should have permissions that they don't need to work, and they should not have access to those permissions when not in use. However, even a standard look at your device's permissions history may not reveal everything, as certain pre-installed apps have access to all of your devices permissions and these may not appear by default, and these permissions have to be manually removed. Now obviously I can't list all the permissions to watch for and disable on every device there is out there, so instead I'll link some videos here for your reference. Note I do not necessarily agree with all of the recommendations they give, and many times I go a few steps further to turn settings off, however I think they serve as a great baseline for how to navigate these types of situations, and individual preference can go from there. iPhone https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wQE-OBW9hkk https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2HpwfWTucUM Android(Samsung in particular) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Yr_BHQpBfw Windows https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlwYKbEfFpM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0pXFwCkF-k <- Disable Microsoft Recall is a must Mac https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wm6F66aLM0

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Walls of Memories Markings on the wall— Symbols and icons that reference the life of a person you will never meet. It's art— The soul of a community— Spanning the ages—the lives. Shared ideas, thoughts, emotion, meaning. Erased—for order or cleanliness. Years and lives, gone, before I can add mine. Lines Lines—painful reminders triggering thoughts and images unwanted. Lines, murdering me from within my fragile mind. Lines—why must everything remind me of the body I'm stuck in? TW suicide - Lily

cute

this is a yuri woe

Note, there are some formatting jokes that haven't carried over Summary so far! (The summary is the first sentence of each paragraph, until it hits a period.) CANS OF TUNA ARE THE MOST DIABOLICAL THING IN THE UNIVERSE. Scissors are boring little monsters with the ability to stop time and eat pizza, The bread bag looked in horror at the events happening before him. Jeffery whispered to the empty cage. My name is Stephen. The cheesecake was named Doug. I ate the cheese and Bob screamed, Jeffery ran. There was a disturbance in the pressure. I has good grammars! “I am telling you my name is STEPHEN!” Jeffery was swarmed. “I HAS GOOD GRAMMARS!!!” Poor being. Cheez ran. “Prepare to make cheese create broccoli.” Jeffery coughed. Samantha took the shot. Robert didn’t want to live on the farm anymore. Grammar man was on alert. If a monkey were to eat some cheese, then my bob would go crazy. Have you ever just sat down and wondered, do cheeses hate goats? WRITER’S BLOCK IS FUNNNNNNNNNN! There aren’t many who know of tuna’s powerful ally, the dairian army of cheeses. Jeffery woke up coughing. Grammar man looked around. “They want to destroy everything in it!” Jeffery couldn’t believe it. “Wait a minute,” The potato was hot and cheesy. The unicorn trotted across the rainbow thinking, I believe in little girls! Once upon a time there was a rock. I enjoy not being sick. Wow. MISS MAN! The flubba flubba is made of nubba nubba but nubba nubba is made of flubba flubba and flubba flubbas eat nerbba nerbbas, that eat rubba rubbas, which eat bubba bubba grass, discovered by the amazing scientist Jubba Jubba, Grabba Grabba. Grammars man walked with jeffery through the sandstone chasm it wasnt very deep only about 4 feet deep actually. Slice was holding a feeling of absolutely seething rage. “(Redacted)” Slice complained. Slice ran towards Cheez, fueled by the rage inside of him. (Redacted) wrote a sentence. Cheez appeared in front of the cans of tuna. The arrow was sad. Cheez walked away from the large palace. Jeffery sat in front of a hulking being, slightly plump, with a comically large nose. Lingonberry, said grammars man said. Slice suddenly knew that he was the author’s new favorite character.Jeffery could see that slice no longer thought he was (Redacted)’s favorite character, As grammar man bellowed out with many sentences that had no proper grammar.Grammars man was done being happy for now and so he decided that he would just have no periods commas or any punctuation marks and then he flew out the window and then he was scared because their was know window that was they’re so he hit his head and google docs didnt know what to do about the grammar anymor and then the destiny peoples who controlled they’re lifes and fates decided to eat some yummy cheeseseses (Redacted), (Redacted 2), and (Redacted 3) decided to eat some yummy cheeses as they idly typed. Cheez walked across the dusty gray ground. Samantha missed Miss man again, and shot again. Slice skipped his paragraph because he was in too much of a daze to do anything but follow Jeffery. Jeffery walked through the thick forest that they had found themselves inside. “I’m a smiley face,” the happy face sang, “I’m a smiley face and I will stay here for eternity!” Ta-Da. “Gluggle gluggle gluggle.” said Gluggle guy. ˙ɯǝɥʎɐɯ puɐ ɟǝᴉɥɔsᴉɯ pǝsɐɔ eʌɐɥ I "How are you doing today؟" Grammars man asked. Part one! CANS OF TUNA ARE THE MOST DIABOLICAL THING IN THE UNIVERSE. OUR FEEBLE BRAINS CANNOT PROCESS THE POWER WHICH THEY HOLD. THE TUNA CANS WILL EVENTUALLY WIPE US OUT AND RULE THE WORLD, THEN THEY WILL CONQUER THE GALAXY, THEN THE UNIVERSE, THEN THE MULTIVERSE, THEN THE MULTIMULTIVERSE, ALL THE WAY UNTIL THEY HAVE EVEN CONQUERED THE MULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIVERSE Scissors are boring little monsters with the ability to stop time and eat pizza, but only if they chant, LOILLOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOIL, which is impossible, because they don't have mouths. The bread bag looked in horror at the events happening before him. The bread bag, even without a mouth, screamed and crawled away like a caterpillar. You see, somebody asked the bread bag a question. The bread bag had Rogophobia, fear of questions, however. The being known as the egg sat there, his question unanswered. Which leads us to the question. What did the egg say to the bread bag? Nothing. It’s an egg. Jeffery whispered to the empty cage. “Hello you monster.” Then, he got up, and left. My name is Stephen. Said the cheese whose name was actually cheez. "No." The doctor said, "You are just delusional." The cheesecake was named Doug. Doug was a very bitter cheesecake, and so nobody ate him. He was glad. I ate the cheese and Bob screamed, "LOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOIL!" If he were scissors, he would get the ability to eat pizza and stop time. But he wasn’t a pair of scissors, he was something else. Something much, much worse. He was a can of tuna. Jeffery ran. The empty cage was left behind. Good riddance you monster! He thought. But he was in peril. His best friend, Bob, was secretly a can of tuna. The most diabolical thing to exist. Nearby, Jeffery saw a crawling bread bag. “Can you help me?” he asked. The bread bag screamed, even without a mouth and ran away. Okay… Then he thought, I am going to face this monster. Jeffery stopped, turned around, and opened Bob. Then, he ate the tuna inside. Bob was no longer a can of tuna, he was just a can. There was a disturbance in the pressure. Pneumonoultra, one of the three leaders of the tuna cans, could feel it. Bob had died. “Bob has died!” Pneumonoultra called to the other two leaders, Microscopicsilico, and Volcanoconiosis. “Commence operation Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis!” I has good grammars! Thought the one and only GRAMMAR MAN. He sat on Top of a building watching the innocent civilians down below then he heard a scream he jumped up to his feet. “Grammar Man is coming!” He yelled. “I am telling you my name is STEPHEN!” Cheez said. “NO!!!!” Replied the nurse “YOU ARE DELUSIONAL!!!” Cheez ran out of the room. “CHEEZ!” The nurse called. “We haven’t finished your heart surgery yet!” Cheez was, quite literally, heartless. Jeffery was swarmed. The cans of tuna were holding him to a volcano so he would breathe in the silica particles and come up with Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Not good. “I HAS GOOD GRAMMARS!!!” A voice shouted. Grammar man! Jeffery was saved! Grammar man used his grammar powers to save Jeffery. The cans of tuna ran from the (Bad) Grammar. “Come with me we need to hide in the shadows!” Grammar man yelled. Perhaps Grammar man’s grammar would scare Jeffery away as well. Jeffery coughed. Oh No! He had Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis! “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” Jeffery yelled. Poor being. Grammar man thought as he watched the person he rescued sleeping in the corner even in his sleep he coughed and coughed and coughed and coughed. Grammar man stood lookout for his new friend Jeffery. Shadows is easy to hide inside. Grammar man thought. It was quiet. Cheez ran. He didn’t care that he had lost his heart. He was a piece of cheese. Cheez ran and ran into something. It was a cylinder. It was short, and there were three of them. “Hello.” The middle one said in an ominous tone. “My name is Pneumonoultra. That’s Microscopicsilico to my right, and Volcanoconiosis to my left. We were looking for a minion. Would you join us?” Cheez thought for a moment. Then said, “We have a deal.” “Prepare to make cheese create broccoli.” A lab worker said. Then he pushed the button. Everything exploded. Jeffery coughed. Wow. Taking out a notebook, he wrote a tally. Cough # 1112342. As they walked. Grammar man became a little hungry. “Is me hungry.” he said. “You can have that che-” Jeffery coughed and recorded it. “Ese cake over there.” He finished. “Nah that looks like doug the bitter cheesecake.” Grammar man said. Suddenly something sharp flew past him. “Ow!” said a voice. Jeffery walked up to the sharp object. Who was a pair of scissors. “LOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOIL!” He shouted then suddenly popped onto Jeffery’s shoulder. SENTIENT SCISSORS! Jeffery coughed. Interludes. Samantha took the shot. It missed. Well, she thought, so much for saving the universe. Robert didn’t want to live on the farm anymore. Tomatoes are destined for more. Robert jumped off of the vine. He immediately grew arms and legs. He was now buff. “YEAH!” Robert shouted. Then jumped over the mountain. PART TWO! (This means you got through the annoying interludes! Yay!) Grammar man was on alert. Jeffery was recording his daily coughing and so he was on alert. Suddenly two beasts that looked like fish with 4 buff legs ran over Jeffery They were each ridden by cans of tuna. Oh no grammar man said Interludes: (Already.) If a monkey were to eat some cheese, then my bob would go crazy. Food is tasty so yum hum hum yum cheesy pizza with peppers and sausage and extreme hot sauce, as well as some cough syrup. Have you ever just sat down and wondered, do cheeses hate goats? WRITER’S BLOCK IS FUNNNNNNNNNN! HE! Part 3 Interludes. Part 4 Interludes. There aren’t many who know of tuna’s powerful ally, the dairian army of cheeses. Led by none other than Stephen the strong. Part 5 1000 words! Interludes Whoa whoa whoa, whoa. “This is Jeffery here, and I think that this is getting out of hand! Just do the next part properly (Redacted)! I want to know what happened to us!” “But, but but” (Redacted) began, “Fine.” He sighed. Part 7 Jeffery woke up coughing. He was tied to a ceiling in a prison. Looking around, he saw Grammar Man next to him. “I has good grammars…” he muttered in his sleep. Outside of the prison cell, Jeffery found cans of tuna guarding the door on their buff, horse-fish. Noticeably, the fish were tuna. Huh. across the stone hallway, there was a blobfish. Jeffery heard a loud noise. “Psst, remember me? From like… 9 paragraphs ago?” The sentient scissors! The cans forgot to prison the scissors! “Call me, slice. Like pizza!” Slice snipped the rope, and Jeffery fell to the ground. Grammar man looked around. “I is grammars man!” He shouted, before jumping down the broken wall. By forgetting to imprison their new friend slice the cans of tuna made 2 mistakes 1 they allowed jeffery, grammar man to ran free. 2 they let them know about the secret location of there base. We should prepare an attack! Grammar man said to Jeffery “I agree.” Jeffery replied. “Guys?” Slice chimed in. yes Jeffery asked, “While inside the base, trying to save you, I found a thing. The tuna cans are looking for an ancient prophecy! that will give them the power to destroy planets. Their plans have changed guys they aren’t going to rule the multiverse or the multimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultiverse they want to destroy everything in it!” “They want to destroy everything in it!” Slice said, panicked. Jeffery looked around with horror. “I may have left a clue to that prophecy behind.” He said. “What?” Slice yelled. “It was a monster!” Jeffery said, in his defense. “Uh-hu!” Grammar man said. “Grammars man herd of it to.” Slice paused. “Wait.” He said. “How do you misspell your speaking?” “Ye” He replied simply. “Also, did anybody notice that there wasn’t any part 6?” “YEEEEE!” “Anyway,” Slice said, " what did you leave behind, Jeffery?” “An empty cage.” Slice gasped. “That is a monster!” Jeffery couldn’t believe it. The whole time he had spent lazily guarding the empty cage, before eventually leaving it completely, was now threatening the omniverse as they knew it! Yet for some reason, he was at peace. He had narrowly escaped the cans of tuna, his coughing ruining their stealthy approach. Grammar man taunted them before they entered the caves of Hungerungerungred, home of the - COUGH COUGH, COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH!- Hungerungerung Giants. Perhaps they would be able to fight the tuna cans. But now, they were making a campfire. “Almost got it,” Slice said, using himself, and some flint, to light a fire. “Got it!” He said as he lit the fire. “So whats you’re backstory.” Grammar man asked. “I was born five days ago. My family was taken by the tuna cans… even though I don’t have one. It’s supposed to be a dramatic scene where we are all sad about the cans of tuna. I guess I’m ruining that.” “Grammars man has have had good live.” Grammar man said. “But then theyd invented the obnoxious annoying evil horrible unicycle.” He stopped talking. “Alright, then I guess it’s my turn.” Jeffery said. “Unicycle?.!” Grammar man said. “I’m just going to try and ignore that you just said 3 different types of punctuation at once.” Slice said. “Moving on,” Jeffery said. “My family has forever been an ancient line of guardians. Guarding an empty cage. My father failed to tell me the most important reason to guard it. I figured it out, finally, when my friend Bob decided to turn on me and reveal that he was a can of tuna.” Jeffery sighed. “After eating Bob, I angered the cans of tuna.” Slice gasped, his eyes widening. “They got revenge on me by giving me-” Cough Cough COUGH COUGH COUGH! “Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Which is causing my skin to turn blue.” “That was pointed out in part six,” Slice said, “But it wasn’t there. Sorry readers!” “Ye.” Grammar man said sadly, ignoring what Slice said. “See?” Slice said. “Sad scene where we mourn the cans of tuna and their decision to destroy the omniverse. Also, this Jeffery story is incredibly long! Let somebody else have a turn (Redacted)!” Cough cough. COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH!!! “No. I won’t give anybody else a turn for an entire part!” (Redacted) yelled “Wait a minute,” Slice said in between the stories. “This section, starting with “‘See?” Slice said. ‘Sad scene’... You get the picture. Anyway, that scene is slightly indented!” “What? NOOOOOO.” (Redacted) said. Sounding as sarcastic as humanly possible. Slice glared at him. Congratulations! You have reached a point in the story, where all character rights will be transferred to (Redacted 3) for a month. After that, she must transfer the ownership to (Redacted 2), in the share screen by clicking “Transfer Ownership.” (Remember the Hungerungerung Giants from Hungerungerungered valley. Also, the perspective swaps from person to person in the following order: Jeffery, Grammar man, and Slice. (Redacted 2), you get the same rules. I will go through and revize revise mistakes. Slice needs to break the fourth wall a-lot, and get annoyed about small things, like slightly indented lines.) Interludes Cans of lime are the least diabolical thing in the universe. Our feeble brains can do anything but fail to process the power in which they hold. ((Redacted 3) Insert interludes here) Once upon a time there was a rock. A nice piece of fossiliferous limestone with a small amount of fossils. Those fossils were all just small unidentified micro organisms. This stone was 8 and ¼ inches tall and 2 inches wide. This stone was a slightly before triangular pyramid with rounded edges and a top that bent down slightly. The base of the rock was an equilateral triangle. One day this rock thought I’m gonna do a backflip. The end. ((Redacted 2) inserts interludes here.) The potato was hot and cheesy. It was on fire. It was probably a baked potato. The unicorn trotted across the rainbow thinking, I believe in little girls! The little girl sat on the couch thinking, I believe in unicorns! “Popcorn!” My stomach says, followed by “flamingos”! The monster thought, why am I a monster? Part 8 (Written by (Redacted 3), and (Redacted 2)) (Have fun!) I enjoy not being sick. Jeffery thought, and then coughed. It twas a nice morning and everyone had finished telling their backstories and then put out the fire and went to bed. Jeffery was the only one awake. For a moment. HAK-HAK-HAKK! Jeffery coughed. Cough you man; grammars man said sleepy. “WHO HAS AWOKEN ME FROM MY SLUMBER?” Slice bellowed grandly. i could did? grammars man said. “Man that guy and his I’s” Slice muttered. Jeffery v Wow. So little happened in part 8 (Redacted 3) may finish their paragraph, and ownership of the document once again is mine. INTERLUDES MISS MAN! WHOOOO! The flubba flubba is made of nubba nubba but nubba nubba is made of flubba flubba and flubba flubbas eat nerbba nerbbas, that eat rubba rubbas, which eat bubba bubba grass, discovered by the amazing scientist Jubba Jubba, Grabba Grabba Part 9 Grammars man walked with jeffery through the sandstone chasm it wasnt very deep only about 4 feet deep actually. “i is worried” grammars man said “grammars man is not very liked by thes hungerungerung giants” “don’t worry” jeffery saids “they shall end the warz” Grammars man almost agreed, but something jumped out and attacked Slice was holding a feeling of absolutely seething rage. Nothing in the entire world could EVER redeem that last grammar man paragraph. Except maybe a paragraph of his own as long as that other Jeffery paragraph… Also, Stephen the Strong had ambushed them. “You.” Slice said angrily. “You-” Slice stopped talking as everybody saw a 3 year old, blonde-haired girl in a blue jumpsuit, jump over the chasm shooting a ginormous laser gun at somebody else. She missed. But then a buff tomato joined the fight. What was happening? Ignoring the confusing events, Slice returned his focus to Stephen. “I know you…” Slice said. “...Cheez.” Cheez’s eyes began to glow red. “My name is STEPHEN!” He shouted, forming a lance and a shield into his nonexistent hands. Oops. “(Redacted)” Slice complained. “I don’t like the length of my last paragraph. Can you do another one about me?” (Redacted), clearly startled to see slice again, flipped a name tag on his desk to his normal name. The other side looked like it said “Grabba Grabba” “Er” (Redacted) said. “Sorry I haven’t written your character for a while, and I’m just coming back to it after a long time, I’ll give you, slice, what you deserve.” Slice ran towards Cheez, fueled by the rage inside of him. He leaped up 10 feet into the air before landing a few inches away from cheez, slicing a small amount of his forehead off. Cheez glared at him, then swung his lance at slice, who blocked with his own foot. Grammar man flew over, and punched cheez square in the face. Cheez retaliated and sent Grammar man flying backward. “I have good grammar…” He said in a dazed voice. Jeffery followed, with a simple kick. Slice then came from behind, and attacked Cheez by bonking Cheez on the head with his own head. Cheez staggered back. Dropping his lance onto the rocky ground. Noticeably, it was simply a nail jammed into a screw, enlarged by the Tuna Can’s diabolical evil device. Cheez took a step back, before vanishing. (Redacted) wrote a sentence. “Ooo” everyone said. INTERLUDES Cheez appeared in front of the cans of tuna. “You are in pain.” Pneumonoultra said. “I’m experiencing… memories.” Cheez said, gasping. “Unfortunately, we will have to remove you.” “What?” “We sense your feelings and plans.” Cheez watched helplessly as Pneumonoultra’s cubelike hand reached out toward him. Black. The arrow was sad. He had hurt his head again. He didn’t like flying. Except, it wasn’t really that important, because he was just an arrow, and wasn’t alive. I like to eat yummy cheese when I'm living in a large grapefruit so I don't want to copy antigravity fun machines I like to eat my cheese in the morning, evening, 12, harglenuggin o'clock, and when I'm in the tuna can's prison YAYYYYYYY wait aren't cheeses allied with the cans of tuna? Am I in danger? I think I angered the cans of tuna! Just think, any second now I might end up being wiped from ex- Cheez walked away from the large palace. “You. Will. Feel. The. Wrath. Of. Ste-” He paused. “Cheez.” He whispered. PART 10 Jeffery sat in front of a hulking being, slightly plump, with a comically large nose. “I’m sorry” He said, with a very squeaky voice, “Us giants are allergic to tuna.” Lingonberry, said grammars man said. wow just think (Redacted) didnt add that redundant redundant grammars mistake on purpose when he did it on accident. Slice suddenly knew that he was the author’s new favorite character. As they walked away from the hungerungerung valley, Jeffery sighed. “Well, so much for that idea.” Jeffery whispered. “notting of the kidding of the not not.” “Grammar man, why are you so redundant lately?” “is happy in happy land where I am and I am happy.” Why? “Oh no.” Jeffery whispered. “What.” Slice asked, angry. “Grammar man is happy.” Slice looked forward, eyes facing the viewers, scared. Then his worst nightmare began. Jeffery could see that slice no longer thought he was (Redacted)’s favorite character, As grammar man bellowed out with many sentences that had no proper grammar. “Iillian ate that cheeses, and gideon and eric ate those milk and i don’t like cOMMAS anymore. does anybody have some sheep cheese. I like to slap numbers like harglenuggin, and blitzlnuggin and shplaplnuggin and tenteen and ardblargeglugg and ug and ugglebuggle, and 45 and shnitzlnuggin? dID you know that I have a sIDEKiCK named spelling mon? i won’t allow quotation marks in the quotation marks that are inside the quotation marks but you don’t no where they is. Grammars man was done being happy for now and so he decided that he would just have no periods commas or any punctuation marks and then he flew out the window and then he was scared because their was know window that was they’re so he hit his head and google docs didnt know what to do about the grammar anymor and then the destiny peoples persons person people who controlled they’re lifes and fates decided to eat some yummy cheeseseses (Redacted), (Redacted 2), and (Redacted 3) decided to eat some yummy cheeses as they idly typed. Cheez walked across the dusty gray ground. In his right, cubelike hand, he held his lance, a shortened nail jammed into a screw, and in his left, he carried a shield, which used to have the insignia of the cans of tuna, but he scratched it off. Cheez didn’t have very many options, he had considered talking to Slice and his friends, but in the end, he knew it wouldn’t go well. He stopped, then looked around toward a nearby forest. He began to set up a camp for the night, starting a fire, careful not to melt himself in the blazing heat. Then he got an idea. Samantha missed Miss man again, and shot again. She missed again. “Robert!” Samantha called to the lazy tomato. “Fine.” Robert sighed. Robert jumped on top of Miss man, and Samantha shot again. She missed and hit Robert, who turned, temporarily, into an ordinary tomato. Any second now, he would come back alive. Miss man turned, and ran away. Slice skipped his paragraph because he was in too much of a daze to do anything but follow Jeffery. Jeffery walked through the thick forest that they had found themselves inside. Walking into a clearing, he saw the weirdest thing he had ever seen. A blobfish, inside a large, almost giant, floating fishbowl, and with a disproportionately large, droopy nose, hovered in the air above a large rock. “Greetings, Jeffery, Slice, and Grammar man.” it said, mouth not moving. “Have the we meeted?” Grammar man asked. “No.” The blobfish said, “I just like to be creepy. My name is Blubby.” “Where did you learn our names?” Slice asked. Good to see him start to come out of his weakness. Jeffery thought, before he coughed a good 3 dozen times, and then proceeded to add 36 tally marks in his notebook. “(Redacted) himself told me for this exact moment.” “A destiny persons?” Grammar man asked, surprised. Interludes “I’m a smiley face,” the happy face sang, “I’m a smiley face and I will stay here for eternity!” Ta-Da. “Gluggle gluggle gluggle.” said Gluggle guy. “NO!” Said Grammar man’s sidekick, Spelling mon. “i hav beeeten u glugle geye! Ey wand two hav ae mispeled advenchre en uh forst!” PART 11 "How are you doing today؟" Grammars man asked SIice whimpered “I is happy said grammars man but not 2 happy so i will have just a story and steal slice’s paragraph and i’m becomeing an even more and more anoying character so i is going to go to the libary did you no that the backwards question mark both broke doogle gocs, and, also, drove, jubba jubba grabba grabba, insane.” Jeffery sat next to Blubby. The strange fish sat in a floating fish bowl. Grammars man refused to look at him. He’d seemed to be scared of one who was so directly influenced by a “Destiny Persons”. It was strange he hadn’t realized that Slice had, on numerous occasions, done the same thing. The fire sent waves of heat toward them. Slice sat silently, leaning against a log beside them. Jeffery coughed as he stared into the flame. The red orange glow reminded him all too much of the… the… That volcano… where the Cans of Tuna first found him and he was given Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Diabolical Aluminum Cans! It couldn’t have been! Jeffery gasped, eyes widening. Glorf! Glorfglorfglorfglorfglorf. Jeffery understood. The cage. The EMPTY CAGE. He’d left it in that very volcano. Jeffery gasped suddenly, eyes widening as he fell backward, coughing and looking toward the stars. I was the first to react, pulling myself onto my feet, giving Blubby a glare, and sprinting over to help with… whatever was happening. What was happening? Jeffery stuttered as I approached. “The cage.” He said, whispering softly. He sat up. “I know where the empty cage is.” Glorf. Grammar Man jumped. “Where?” Blubby demanded, “Where?!” “The volcano. The one where I met Grammars man. The cage is there. And all we need to do is beat the Tuna Cans there.” Jeffery spoke in gasps. He coughed. Glorf. He looked at the others. “We’re going. NOW.” INTERLUDES: "Last time I screamed at the cheese," Bart whispered, "I THREW A PURPLE LEATHER BOOT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW OF THE NEAREST UPSIDE DOWN GAS STATION!!!" He paused. "But, it's fine. I only wanted to make friends with my face's cousin's uncle's parrot's stash of turtle hair. Agglebaggle isn’t a cheese, unfortunately. He does, however, enjoy causing people to have the random urge to paint themselves with neon purple paint, then do cartwheels while flying -- specifically using an enchanted bag, made by the King of the Purple Spaghetti Noodles, and has a retail price of $99.99. The King of the Purple Spaghetti Noodles also happens to be Agglebaggle.

Yuri I changed this one last minute haha~

backstory of character: rebyl status: alive source number: 12 rebyl was a blessing. She was born from rebus and symbol. A well known scientist and a school teacher. Rebyl was a unique child, having silver hair with stars in it, occasionally she could turn it brown like her father’s. As she was raised Rebyl excelled in English and history though she loved doing science. Spending time with rebus at the lab, she learned her way around it. By the time she was out of highschool she had a part- turning full- time job at the lab. She walked in wearing a normal dress, blue with a white tie around the waist, it had no sleeves as it was fairly hot during the summer. She waved at some other scientists. “Father!” She said running up to him. Rebus smiled. “Hey rebyl! We made amazing progress the past few days i think we are close to being able to open a portal!” She hugged him. “Thats awesome!” Rebus walked to a panel. “If we take the accelerator, and the dark matter we were able to make,” he pushed a few buttons. “Then we can speed the matter up enough to create warps. We just need to aim and concentrate the matter.” He walked to the accelerator viewing platform. “If we come here.” He moved the platform across so they were opposite of the accelerators opening. “We aim it here, and use light matter (we later know they managed to get their hands on prismite)” he grabbed a tablet device and turned the machine on. It whirred, the dark matter shot forward into the middle of the light matter ring, which had started spinning as well. It took a second but a very minuscule portal opened. Another scientist flew a drone into the portal.