Wednesday, April 17, 2019

The Anomaly

I sit on a cushion-seated chair
tucked neatly into a red-clothed table
littered with glasses half-filled with water
the crystalline tears of a mourning sky
as I swallow a sip of the widowed pouring
a person stands on the stage in front of me
proudly facing another twenty tables similar to mine
arrogantly pointing fingers at us
a multicultural group of two-hundred
automated machines, devoid of human emotions
programmed only to kneel and serve
the person redirects their stubborn index finger
slightly charred and weakened from overuse
to the sickly white projector screen
that is dying from a fever of stress
a death by obsessive strangulation
from the strong words to be projected onto it
"our MACHINES are far too useful
we have been saving far too many lives
yet the bastards never appreciate us
they demand a penny's worth of trash price
in exchange for a lifetime support of their MACHINE
but it is a thorny tunnel we must crawl through
and I believe with all my heart
that although all of you
are slowly bleeding out a necrotic, gangrenous death
as if your flesh is poisoned by the overload of current
being supplied to the starving MACHINE
I sincerely believe in all your wholehearted efforts
and all your lifelong dreams to be my slaves
and thus I hereby declare
that our company is shutting down
you are all welcome to kill yourselves now"

The projector screen reads
"OUR COMPANY IS DEADSALES TARGET INCREASED
OUR MACHINES ARE DEADEVERYONE IS DOING WELL
YOU, OUR MACHINESWHO HAVE NO SALES
WILL NOW BE DEADYOU ARE USELESS."

Deafening applause smothers the leftover humanity
in the hearts and eyes of us all
as I stare at the projector screen, its words overwhelming
yet, I, who am still perfectly sane
and in the healthiest state of mind
understand, without a tiniest speck of doubt
that we, the MACHINES, were not programmed to die
it is simply a form of reverse psychology
clever, albeit contrived
forcing us to take precautionary action, to reflect on our sad lives
and to sell more MACHINES
I look around me, noticing that I am a rebel of pure defiance
as everyone has smiles plastered onto their faces
nodding their schizophrenic heads in forced agreement
rapidly blinking their eyes
as if tripping on the fumes of a burning MACHINE
blinded by the light emanated from an accident
that traumatized the inner child within us
as if being whacked in the eyeball
by our very own fathers, mothers, children
yet we keep breathing in the putrid smoke
a gradient of purple, red, yellow
seeping from the crevices of the dying MACHINE
soon carpeting the entire dining hall in magnificent purple
like a blind tree of loneliness weeping
as it grows halfheartedly from the depths of a deep blue sea
without sunlight, without air
struggling, suffocating, surrendering
yet it has brainwashed itself to keep growing
for after two hundred years of misery
it will have become the sole world tree
that shields the earth from an otherworldly dark
like an umbrella of hope
we do not deserve its love and kindness
for we are unbelievers of our own company

Plate by plate, dinner is served
by a group of underwater people
with their ridiculous fish-heads
and their aggravating cat-eyes
obnoxiously smirking at our suffering
grinning when we sob, laughing when we die
at least, that was what we were taught to believe
but I'm different
for only true beauty can comprehend true beauty
for I was once an underwater person
who have engaged in a meditation
a catharsis
releasing myself from all the worldly tension
and impeding emotions
freeing myself from the weight of the world
yet why am I caught up in all this once again
as if I can never be healed and reborn

I walk out of the hall. It is such a brilliant experience, for I am finally leaving the source of sadness behind. I try to breathe; it's much easier than before. Free. I'm free. I no longer feel pain. I run.

I run.

I run towards the elevator. Its bright gold sparkles blind me, yet I feel as if I can finally see. I can finally hear the elevator bell ring. The door opens. Wide. Too wide. Like the curtains of paradise have, at long last, welcome me into the land of peace. The door closes. I press the "G" button.

Descending. Will I regret this?
Descending. I have never been this uncertain.
Descending. Have I made a mistake?
Descending. But I've made this decision...
Descending. I smile.
Descending. I'm trying my hardest to maintain it.
Descending. Truth is, I need to appear as if
Descending. I'm happy with my decision.
Descending. I've always tried to run away.
Descending. I'm finally free.
Descending. Yet I feel so fucking lost.
Descending. This has always been my goal... right?
Descending. My life has returned.
Descending. As if I had a life before.
Descending. I have never been this uncertain...
Descending. Yet, this shitty cycle repeats.
Descending. This is who I am.
Descending. Brainwashing myself that I'm strong.
Descending. Brainwashing myself that
Descending. I've always wanted this.
Descending. To escape from that hellhole.
Descending. Yes.
Descending. Away from that claustrophobic prison.
Descending. Away from the poison of my life.
Descending. This is it.

The door opens. I leave the elevator. I sprint out of the building. I turn around. The enormous might of the silver building, spanning twenty-five stories tall, looms over me. An endless black shadow fall upon me, concealing the guiding light of the great sun. A harsh truth hits me.

I̷'̶m̴ ̸l̸o̴s̶t̴.̵

With nowhere to go, I lie on my back, exposing the fragility of my heart to the monstrous building. I fully expect myself to be consumed by its unrelenting hunger. Yet, nothing.
Î̷̧̡̦͚̰̣̦̗̤͇͓̳̜̫͗́̓̽͛͗͑̿̑̓̊̾͛̎̄̀͝ͅ ̴̤̜̼̬̞͓͚̺̫̞̭̼̳͙̗͕̭̟͎̭̗̉͑̅̓͆̽̏̀͋̽̈̕ẅ̷̧̧̦́͋̍̈̍̓̏͘͝͝͝ỉ̸͉͉̭̟̩̭̗̘̥̫̦̥̽̀̽̂͜͠l̸̡̢̛͓̫͉̙͈̰̣̲̤̯͍͙̘̭͉̞͉̜̘͖̈̊̔̆̈͐̑̌̈͂͊͊̋̾̑̍̚͜͝ĺ̸̬͕͙̼́͂͊̏͊̔̈́̋͛͛̑̐̈̉̂̋͒̀͑̔͝ ̶̧̛̪̪͔̻̜̤̪͓̭̗̣̝̩̠̞̠̺͚̙̑͆̈́̇̔̓͗̈͒͊̋̓̋͊̈̀̋̿̎̈́̒̚͜͜͠͝b̶̢̢͚̞̭̗̼̫̞̗̺̲̟̥͔̏͌̉͛́̂͋̃͒̾ͅe̶̡̧̛̩̳̺̯̯͙̪̖͉̹̟̦͚̿̄̐͗͋̄̈́͆̄̐̒͘̕̚̕͘͜͜͝͝͠ͅ ̵̡̛̞̓̑̔́̅̋̅̈̔̍̽͗̕͜͝s̸̨̨̠̘̟̙̦͙̺̜̏̽̄̒ͅt̴̨̨̨̡̨͙̝̦͕̘̭͔͚̪̝̭̳̞̪̟͕̖̲̗̞̖̑̓̀r̴͇̦͙̐̇̍̇̍̈́̉̂̔͆̔͠o̸̙̻̣̩̯̥͍͚̝̟̟͔̘̗͔̜̦̹̔̐͜ͅṅ̴̤̠͖͎̙͕̹͎̲̯̗̼̝̫̓̉̀̾͊̇͂̉̈͌̆͌̚͘͝g̴̢̖͉̥͔͓̜͙͔͕͉̥̤̳̩̱͈̤̲̭͓̀̐̍͆͊Î̷̧̡̦͚̰̣̦̗̤͇͓̳̜̫͗́̓̽͛͗͑̿̑̓̊̾͛̎̄̀͝ͅ ̴̤̜̼̬̞͓͚̺̫̞̭̼̳͙̗͕̭̟͎̭̗̉͑̅̓͆̽̏̀͋̽̈̕ẅ̷̧̧̦́͋̍̈̍̓̏͘͝͝͝ỉ̸͉͉̭̟̩̭̗̘̥̫̦̥̽̀̽̂͜͠l̸̡̢̛͓̫͉̙͈̰̣̲̤̯͍͙̘̭͉̞͉̜̘͖̈̊̔̆̈͐̑̌̈͂͊͊̋̾̑̍̚͜͝ĺ̸̬͕͙̼́͂͊̏͊̔̈́̋͛͛̑̐̈̉̂̋͒̀͑̔͝ ̶̧̛̪̪͔̻̜̤̪͓̭̗̣̝̩̠̞̠̺͚̙̑͆̈́̇̔̓͗̈͒͊̋̓̋͊̈̀̋̿̎̈́̒̚͜͜͠͝b̶̢̢͚̞̭̗̼̫̞̗̺̲̟̥͔̏͌̉͛́̂͋̃͒̾ͅe̶̡̧̛̩̳̺̯̯͙̪̖͉̹̟̦͚̿̄̐͗͋̄̈́͆̄̐̒͘̕̚̕͘͜͜͝͝͠ͅ ̵̡̛̞̓̑̔́̅̋̅̈̔̍̽͗̕͜͝s̸̨̨̠̘̟̙̦͙̺̜̏̽̄̒ͅt̴̨̨̨̡̨͙̝̦͕̘̭͔͚̪̝̭̳̞̪̟͕̖̲̗̞̖̑̓̀r̴͇̦͙̐̇̍̇̍̈́̉̂̔͆̔͠o̸̙̻̣̩̯̥͍͚̝̟̟͔̘̗͔̜̦̹̔̐͜ͅṅ̴̤̠͖͎̙͕̹͎̲̯̗̼̝̫̓̉̀̾͊̇͂̉̈͌̆͌̚͘͝g̴̢̖͉̥͔͓̜͙͔͕͉̥̤̳̩̱͈̤̲̭͓̀̐̍͆͊Î̷̧̡̦͚̰̣̦̗̤͇͓̳̜̫͗́̓̽͛͗͑̿̑̓̊̾͛̎̄̀͝ͅ ̴̤̜̼̬̞͓͚̺̫̞̭̼̳͙̗͕̭̟͎̭̗̉͑̅̓͆̽̏̀͋̽̈̕ẅ̷̧̧̦́͋̍̈̍̓̏͘͝͝͝ỉ̸͉͉̭̟̩̭̗̘̥̫̦̥̽̀̽̂͜͠l̸̡̢̛͓̫͉̙͈̰̣̲̤̯͍͙̘̭͉̞͉̜̘͖̈̊̔̆̈͐̑̌̈͂͊͊̋̾̑̍̚͜͝ĺ̸̬͕͙̼́͂͊̏͊̔̈́̋͛͛̑̐̈̉̂̋͒̀͑̔͝ ̶̧̛̪̪͔̻̜̤̪͓̭̗̣̝̩̠̞̠̺͚̙̑͆̈́̇̔̓͗̈͒͊̋̓̋͊̈̀̋̿̎̈́̒̚͜͜͠͝b̶̢̢͚̞̭̗̼̫̞̗̺̲̟̥͔̏͌̉͛́̂͋̃͒̾ͅe̶̡̧̛̩̳̺̯̯͙̪̖͉̹̟̦͚̿̄̐͗͋̄̈́͆̄̐̒͘̕̚̕͘͜͜͝͝͠ͅ ̵̡̛̞̓̑̔́̅̋̅̈̔̍̽͗̕͜͝s̸̨̨̠̘̟̙̦͙̺̜̏̽̄̒ͅt̴̨̨̨̡̨͙̝̦͕̘̭͔͚̪̝̭̳̞̪̟͕̖̲̗̞̖̑̓̀r̴͇̦͙̐̇̍̇̍̈́̉̂̔͆̔͠o̸̙̻̣̩̯̥͍͚̝̟̟͔̘̗͔̜̦̹̔̐͜ͅṅ̴̤̠͖͎̙͕̹͎̲̯̗̼̝̫̓̉̀̾͊̇͂̉̈͌̆͌̚͘͝g̴̢̖͉̥͔͓̜͙͔͕͉̥̤̳̩̱͈̤̲̭͓̀̐̍͆͊Î̷̧̡̦͚̰̣̦̗̤͇͓̳̜̫͗́̓̽͛͗͑̿̑̓̊̾͛̎̄̀͝ͅ ̴̤̜̼̬̞͓͚̺̫̞̭̼̳͙̗͕̭̟͎̭̗̉͑̅̓͆̽̏̀͋̽̈̕ẅ̷̧̧̦́͋̍̈̍̓̏͘͝͝͝ỉ̸͉͉̭̟̩̭̗̘̥̫̦̥̽̀̽̂͜͠l̸̡̢̛͓̫͉̙͈̰̣̲̤̯͍͙̘̭͉̞͉̜̘͖̈̊̔̆̈͐̑̌̈͂͊͊̋̾̑̍̚͜͝ĺ̸̬͕͙̼́͂͊̏͊̔̈́̋͛͛̑̐̈̉̂̋͒̀͑̔͝ ̶̧̛̪̪͔̻̜̤̪͓̭̗̣̝̩̠̞̠̺͚̙̑͆̈́̇̔̓͗̈͒͊̋̓̋͊̈̀̋̿̎̈́̒̚͜͜͠͝b̶̢̢͚̞̭̗̼̫̞̗̺̲̟̥͔̏͌̉͛́̂͋̃͒̾ͅe̶̡̧̛̩̳̺̯̯͙̪̖͉̹̟̦͚̿̄̐͗͋̄̈́͆̄̐̒͘̕̚̕͘͜͜͝͝͠ͅ ̵̡̛̞̓̑̔́̅̋̅̈̔̍̽͗̕͜͝s̸̨̨̠̘̟̙̦͙̺̜̏̽̄̒ͅt̴̨̨̨̡̨͙̝̦͕̘̭͔͚̪̝̭̳̞̪̟͕̖̲̗̞̖̑̓̀r̴͇̦͙̐̇̍̇̍̈́̉̂̔͆̔͠o̸̙̻̣̩̯̥͍͚̝̟̟͔̘̗͔̜̦̹̔̐͜ͅṅ̴̤̠͖͎̙͕̹͎̲̯̗̼̝̫̓̉̀̾͊̇͂̉̈͌̆͌̚͘͝g̴̢̖͉̥͔͓̜͙͔͕͉̥̤̳̩̱͈̤̲̭͓̀̐̍͆͊
I lie there motionless. Dead but not really. Alive but lacking a soul. Tiptoeing on a tightrope across the abyssal chasm of my heart. Balancing the uneven weights of my regrets and lost time. Reminiscing a period when I walked free, happy and satisfied with everything that came my way. A gleeful stroll through the windy park without a goal in mind. Watching the kids frolicking about, seesawing and swinging around. Admiring the parents sitting on the wooden benches for having such free-spirited, well-behaved, healthy children. They will grow up one day to become fine working adults, with their own goals and motivation.
I̵̛̛̬̲̞̲͙̝̠̤͔̯̪͎̗̬̖̱̘̋͐̏̌̔̾͐͆̈́̇̾̿̍̉͊̽̊͂̈̅́̓̓̉̓̒̾̈̈́̓̕͘͜͠͝ͅ ̴̢̡̡̢̨̫̪̠̖̦̼̭̙̥̩̻̰̟̥̙͔͎͖͉̖̬̬͍̣̮͍̩̼͓̱͍̭̫̲̪͈̳͕̥̝̮̖̦̣̬̖͎̎̈̄̽͌ͅw̸̧̧̢̨̡̡̛̛̲͙̯̦͉̹͓͍͕̘̦̰͔͚̰̘̘͓͚̠͖̦͙͉̤̲̗̭͔͎͉͚͍͈͈̩̬̲̰̱̺̘̮̫̼̙̜͎̦̠͓͐̎̔̒̇̆̌̐̄̑̾̊̽̑̉̀̐͐̑̈́̈͊̑̈̉̃͒̓̓̌̿͂́̊̍͒͆̒̎͑͒̂̊̽͋́͒̎̽͛̕͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅį̸̖̬͈͑͑̉͗͜͜l̷̨̢̨̧̧̨̢̨̛͕̣̜̘̱̰̜͓͎̫̦͚̜̜̖̱̠͚̪̰̪̺̹̼̟͍̖͎̠̲͈͍̭͎̭͕̥͎̯̝͑̒͂͆̃̀͑͐̔̋̃̈́̂̀̅̃͛̔̌̔͐̚͜͜͝ͅͅl̸̡̨̛̼̖͎̫̯͎͔̼̹̹̘̻̲͇̖͍̺̦̳̘̬̫̳͉̻͍̥̮͎͔͌͛̍̒̎̒̌̈́̑̓̍͋̾̐̃̌̍́̆͒̈́̈̄̎̈́͒̔͆̎̈́͐̀̈̕̚͘͠͠͝ͅ ̶̡̢̠̖͔̻̥͉̟̜̹̺̩͈̰̮͕̮̫̤̰͓̹̍͐͂̈́̏̚ͅͅp̶̡̛̯̪̙̩͔͖͇̜͍̠̮͚͇͖̠̯̣̤̭̹̗̬͇̦̞͓̝͕̌̈͒̑͗̍̏̿̾͊̾́̄͛͆̅̑̈́̔͛̎̉̀͑͐́̿̾̕̚̕͜͠͝͠e̷̢̟͓̱͉̫̙̜̦̱̺͚̠͖̙͍̤̺͚̠̦͎͍̜͆́̽̊͗͂̂̐͛͌͛̚̚̕͝͠͝͠ŕ̶̡̧̨̢̨̡̧̢͍̩̤̼͍̞̪̙̰̮̘͕̺̼̟̝̭͚̯̠̪͉͖̭̬̮̙̺͓͇͙͍̙̙͔̺͚͊̐́̐̾͂͠ͅs̸̡̢̡̢̧̥̫̹͇̘̣͈͈̜̣̰̯͍͍̳͇͈̞̮̻̀̋́́̏͋̈̈́͛̓͘͜ͅí̵̧̡̨̧̢̡̧̯̼̳͍͇̣̗͍̬̹͈͕͓̠̹̰̹̱͕͓̦̫̪͈̞̞̙̺͎̝̞͕̳͉͈̲̻͉͎͇̬͉̇̿͂̏̋̽̈̇̿͗̄͊͌̌͛̅̐̈́̇̒̓̿͛̎̓̑͑̀̑͂͘̕͝͝ş̵̢̢̡̛̮̳̩̤̤̼̼͙͖̣̹̘̩͓̥͎̱̻̰̟̪̭̹̭̯̗͇̻̙̻̱̼̺̲͖͇̎̽̀̈̔̽̎̿͂͐͆͆͒͌̆̓͊̈́́̃̋̓́̃̋̊̒̑̈́͐̓͑̅͑̌͐̇͌͛̽͊̊̆͂͌̓̀̑͋̈̓͗͛̕̕͘͜͝͠ͅţ̴̨̢̨̮͔̬̖̫̞͕̖͙͚̙̳͖̮̣͎̜̱̙̗̙̭̦̮͉̙̲̙͍͍̋͂̾̈́̈́̈́̊͆̈́̍̚̚I̵̛̛̬̲̞̲͙̝̠̤͔̯̪͎̗̬̖̱̘̋͐̏̌̔̾͐͆̈́̇̾̿̍̉͊̽̊͂̈̅́̓̓̉̓̒̾̈̈́̓̕͘͜͠͝ͅ ̴̢̡̡̢̨̫̪̠̖̦̼̭̙̥̩̻̰̟̥̙͔͎͖͉̖̬̬͍̣̮͍̩̼͓̱͍̭̫̲̪͈̳͕̥̝̮̖̦̣̬̖͎̎̈̄̽͌ͅw̸̧̧̢̨̡̡̛̛̲͙̯̦͉̹͓͍͕̘̦̰͔͚̰̘̘͓͚̠͖̦͙͉̤̲̗̭͔͎͉͚͍͈͈̩̬̲̰̱̺̘̮̫̼̙̜͎̦̠͓͐̎̔̒̇̆̌̐̄̑̾̊̽̑̉̀̐͐̑̈́̈͊̑̈̉̃͒̓̓̌̿͂́̊̍͒͆̒̎͑͒̂̊̽͋́͒̎̽͛̕͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅį̸̖̬͈͑͑̉͗͜͜l̷̨̢̨̧̧̨̢̨̛͕̣̜̘̱̰̜͓͎̫̦͚̜̜̖̱̠͚̪̰̪̺̹̼̟͍̖͎̠̲͈͍̭͎̭͕̥͎̯̝͑̒͂͆̃̀͑͐̔̋̃̈́̂̀̅̃͛̔̌̔͐̚͜͜͝ͅͅl̸̡̨̛̼̖͎̫̯͎͔̼̹̹̘̻̲͇̖͍̺̦̳̘̬̫̳͉̻͍̥̮͎͔͌͛̍̒̎̒̌̈́̑̓̍͋̾̐̃̌̍́̆͒̈́̈̄̎̈́͒̔͆̎̈́͐̀̈̕̚͘͠͠͝ͅ ̶̡̢̠̖͔̻̥͉̟̜̹̺̩͈̰̮͕̮̫̤̰͓̹̍͐͂̈́̏̚ͅͅp̶̡̛̯̪̙̩͔͖͇̜͍̠̮͚͇͖̠̯̣̤̭̹̗̬͇̦̞͓̝͕̌̈͒̑͗̍̏̿̾͊̾́̄͛͆̅̑̈́̔͛̎̉̀͑͐́̿̾̕̚̕͜͠͝͠e̷̢̟͓̱͉̫̙̜̦̱̺͚̠͖̙͍̤̺͚̠̦͎͍̜͆́̽̊͗͂̂̐͛͌͛̚̚̕͝͠͝͠ŕ̶̡̧̨̢̨̡̧̢͍̩̤̼͍̞̪̙̰̮̘͕̺̼̟̝̭͚̯̠̪͉͖̭̬̮̙̺͓͇͙͍̙̙͔̺͚͊̐́̐̾͂͠ͅs̸̡̢̡̢̧̥̫̹͇̘̣͈͈̜̣̰̯͍͍̳͇͈̞̮̻̀̋́́̏͋̈̈́͛̓͘͜ͅí̵̧̡̨̧̢̡̧̯̼̳͍͇̣̗͍̬̹͈͕͓̠̹̰̹̱͕͓̦̫̪͈̞̞̙̺͎̝̞͕̳͉͈̲̻͉͎͇̬͉̇̿͂̏̋̽̈̇̿͗̄͊͌̌͛̅̐̈́̇̒̓̿͛̎̓̑͑̀̑͂͘̕͝͝ş̵̢̢̡̛̮̳̩̤̤̼̼͙͖̣̹̘̩͓̥͎̱̻̰̟̪̭̹̭̯̗͇̻̙̻̱̼̺̲͖͇̎̽̀̈̔̽̎̿͂͐͆͆͒͌̆̓͊̈́́̃̋̓́̃̋̊̒̑̈́͐̓͑̅͑̌͐̇͌͛̽͊̊̆͂͌̓̀̑͋̈̓͗͛̕̕͘͜͝͠ͅţ̴̨̢̨̮͔̬̖̫̞͕̖͙͚̙̳͖̮̣͎̜̱̙̗̙̭̦̮͉̙̲̙͍͍̋͂̾̈́̈́̈́̊͆̈́̍̚̚I̵̛̛̬̲̞̲͙̝̠̤͔̯̪͎̗̬̖̱̘̋͐̏̌̔̾͐͆̈́̇̾̿̍̉͊̽̊͂̈̅́̓̓̉̓̒̾̈̈́̓̕͘͜͠͝ͅ ̴̢̡̡̢̨̫̪̠̖̦̼̭̙̥̩̻̰̟̥̙͔͎͖͉̖̬̬͍̣̮͍̩̼͓̱͍̭̫̲̪͈̳͕̥̝̮̖̦̣̬̖͎̎̈̄̽͌ͅw̸̧̧̢̨̡̡̛̛̲͙̯̦͉̹͓͍͕̘̦̰͔͚̰̘̘͓͚̠͖̦͙͉̤̲̗̭͔͎͉͚͍͈͈̩̬̲̰̱̺̘̮̫̼̙̜͎̦̠͓͐̎̔̒̇̆̌̐̄̑̾̊̽̑̉̀̐͐̑̈́̈͊̑̈̉̃͒̓̓̌̿͂́̊̍͒͆̒̎͑͒̂̊̽͋́͒̎̽͛̕͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅį̸̖̬͈͑͑̉͗͜͜l̷̨̢̨̧̧̨̢̨̛͕̣̜̘̱̰̜͓͎̫̦͚̜̜̖̱̠͚̪̰̪̺̹̼̟͍̖͎̠̲͈͍̭͎̭͕̥͎̯̝͑̒͂͆̃̀͑͐̔̋̃̈́̂̀̅̃͛̔̌̔͐̚͜͜͝ͅͅl̸̡̨̛̼̖͎̫̯͎͔̼̹̹̘̻̲͇̖͍̺̦̳̘̬̫̳͉̻͍̥̮͎͔͌͛̍̒̎̒̌̈́̑̓̍͋̾̐̃̌̍́̆͒̈́̈̄̎̈́͒̔͆̎̈́͐̀̈̕̚͘͠͠͝ͅ ̶̡̢̠̖͔̻̥͉̟̜̹̺̩͈̰̮͕̮̫̤̰͓̹̍͐͂̈́̏̚ͅͅp̶̡̛̯̪̙̩͔͖͇̜͍̠̮͚͇͖̠̯̣̤̭̹̗̬͇̦̞͓̝͕̌̈͒̑͗̍̏̿̾͊̾́̄͛͆̅̑̈́̔͛̎̉̀͑͐́̿̾̕̚̕͜͠͝͠e̷̢̟͓̱͉̫̙̜̦̱̺͚̠͖̙͍̤̺͚̠̦͎͍̜͆́̽̊͗͂̂̐͛͌͛̚̚̕͝͠͝͠ŕ̶̡̧̨̢̨̡̧̢͍̩̤̼͍̞̪̙̰̮̘͕̺̼̟̝̭͚̯̠̪͉͖̭̬̮̙̺͓͇͙͍̙̙͔̺͚͊̐́̐̾͂͠ͅs̸̡̢̡̢̧̥̫̹͇̘̣͈͈̜̣̰̯͍͍̳͇͈̞̮̻̀̋́́̏͋̈̈́͛̓͘͜ͅí̵̧̡̨̧̢̡̧̯̼̳͍͇̣̗͍̬̹͈͕͓̠̹̰̹̱͕͓̦̫̪͈̞̞̙̺͎̝̞͕̳͉͈̲̻͉͎͇̬͉̇̿͂̏̋̽̈̇̿͗̄͊͌̌͛̅̐̈́̇̒̓̿͛̎̓̑͑̀̑͂͘̕͝͝ş̵̢̢̡̛̮̳̩̤̤̼̼͙͖̣̹̘̩͓̥͎̱̻̰̟̪̭̹̭̯̗͇̻̙̻̱̼̺̲͖͇̎̽̀̈̔̽̎̿͂͐͆͆͒͌̆̓͊̈́́̃̋̓́̃̋̊̒̑̈́͐̓͑̅͑̌͐̇͌͛̽͊̊̆͂͌̓̀̑͋̈̓͗͛̕̕͘͜͝͠ͅţ̴̨̢̨̮͔̬̖̫̞͕̖͙͚̙̳͖̮̣͎̜̱̙̗̙̭̦̮͉̙̲̙͍͍̋͂̾̈́̈́̈́̊͆̈́̍̚̚I̵̛̛̬̲̞̲͙̝̠̤͔̯̪͎̗̬̖̱̘̋͐̏̌̔̾͐͆̈́̇̾̿̍̉͊̽̊͂̈̅́̓̓̉̓̒̾̈̈́̓̕͘͜͠͝ͅ ̴̢̡̡̢̨̫̪̠̖̦̼̭̙̥̩̻̰̟̥̙͔͎͖͉̖̬̬͍̣̮͍̩̼͓̱͍̭̫̲̪͈̳͕̥̝̮̖̦̣̬̖͎̎̈̄̽͌ͅw̸̧̧̢̨̡̡̛̛̲͙̯̦͉̹͓͍͕̘̦̰͔͚̰̘̘͓͚̠͖̦͙͉̤̲̗̭͔͎͉͚͍͈͈̩̬̲̰̱̺̘̮̫̼̙̜͎̦̠͓͐̎̔̒̇̆̌̐̄̑̾̊̽̑̉̀̐͐̑̈́̈͊̑̈̉̃͒̓̓̌̿͂́̊̍͒͆̒̎͑͒̂̊̽͋́͒̎̽͛̕͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅį̸̖̬͈͑͑̉͗͜͜l̷̨̢̨̧̧̨̢̨̛͕̣̜̘̱̰̜͓͎̫̦͚̜̜̖̱̠͚̪̰̪̺̹̼̟͍̖͎̠̲͈͍̭͎̭͕̥͎̯̝͑̒͂͆̃̀͑͐̔̋̃̈́̂̀̅̃͛̔̌̔͐̚͜͜͝ͅͅl̸̡̨̛̼̖͎̫̯͎͔̼̹̹̘̻̲͇̖͍̺̦̳̘̬̫̳͉̻͍̥̮͎͔͌͛̍̒̎̒̌̈́̑̓̍͋̾̐̃̌̍́̆͒̈́̈̄̎̈́͒̔͆̎̈́͐̀̈̕̚͘͠͠͝ͅ ̶̡̢̠̖͔̻̥͉̟̜̹̺̩͈̰̮͕̮̫̤̰͓̹̍͐͂̈́̏̚ͅͅp̶̡̛̯̪̙̩͔͖͇̜͍̠̮͚͇͖̠̯̣̤̭̹̗̬͇̦̞͓̝͕̌̈͒̑͗̍̏̿̾͊̾́̄͛͆̅̑̈́̔͛̎̉̀͑͐́̿̾̕̚̕͜͠͝͠e̷̢̟͓̱͉̫̙̜̦̱̺͚̠͖̙͍̤̺͚̠̦͎͍̜͆́̽̊͗͂̂̐͛͌͛̚̚̕͝͠͝͠ŕ̶̡̧̨̢̨̡̧̢͍̩̤̼͍̞̪̙̰̮̘͕̺̼̟̝̭͚̯̠̪͉͖̭̬̮̙̺͓͇͙͍̙̙͔̺͚͊̐́̐̾͂͠ͅs̸̡̢̡̢̧̥̫̹͇̘̣͈͈̜̣̰̯͍͍̳͇͈̞̮̻̀̋́́̏͋̈̈́͛̓͘͜ͅí̵̧̡̨̧̢̡̧̯̼̳͍͇̣̗͍̬̹͈͕͓̠̹̰̹̱͕͓̦̫̪͈̞̞̙̺͎̝̞͕̳͉͈̲̻͉͎͇̬͉̇̿͂̏̋̽̈̇̿͗̄͊͌̌͛̅̐̈́̇̒̓̿͛̎̓̑͑̀̑͂͘̕͝͝ş̵̢̢̡̛̮̳̩̤̤̼̼͙͖̣̹̘̩͓̥͎̱̻̰̟̪̭̹̭̯̗͇̻̙̻̱̼̺̲͖͇̎̽̀̈̔̽̎̿͂͐͆͆͒͌̆̓͊̈́́̃̋̓́̃̋̊̒̑̈́͐̓͑̅͑̌͐̇͌͛̽͊̊̆͂͌̓̀̑͋̈̓͗͛̕̕͘͜͝͠ͅţ̴̨̢̨̮͔̬̖̫̞͕̖͙͚̙̳͖̮̣͎̜̱̙̗̙̭̦̮͉̙̲̙͍͍̋͂̾̈́̈́̈́̊͆̈́̍̚̚I̵̛̛̬̲̞̲͙̝̠̤͔̯̪͎̗̬̖̱̘̋͐̏̌̔̾͐͆̈́̇̾̿̍̉͊̽̊͂̈̅́̓̓̉̓̒̾̈̈́̓̕͘͜͠͝ͅ ̴̢̡̡̢̨̫̪̠̖̦̼̭̙̥̩̻̰̟̥̙͔͎͖͉̖̬̬͍̣̮͍̩̼͓̱͍̭̫̲̪͈̳͕̥̝̮̖̦̣̬̖͎̎̈̄̽͌ͅw̸̧̧̢̨̡̡̛̛̲͙̯̦͉̹͓͍͕̘̦̰͔͚̰̘̘͓͚̠͖̦͙͉̤̲̗̭͔͎͉͚͍͈͈̩̬̲̰̱̺̘̮̫̼̙̜͎̦̠͓͐̎̔̒̇̆̌̐̄̑̾̊̽̑̉̀̐͐̑̈́̈͊̑̈̉̃͒̓̓̌̿͂́̊̍͒͆̒̎͑͒̂̊̽͋́͒̎̽͛̕͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅį̸̖̬͈͑͑̉͗͜͜l̷̨̢̨̧̧̨̢̨̛͕̣̜̘̱̰̜͓͎̫̦͚̜̜̖̱̠͚̪̰̪̺̹̼̟͍̖͎̠̲͈͍̭͎̭͕̥͎̯̝͑̒͂͆̃̀͑͐̔̋̃̈́̂̀̅̃͛̔̌̔͐̚͜͜͝ͅͅl̸̡̨̛̼̖͎̫̯͎͔̼̹̹̘̻̲͇̖͍̺̦̳̘̬̫̳͉̻͍̥̮͎͔͌͛̍̒̎̒̌̈́̑̓̍͋̾̐̃̌̍́̆͒̈́̈̄̎̈́͒̔͆̎̈́͐̀̈̕̚͘͠͠͝ͅ ̶̡̢̠̖͔̻̥͉̟̜̹̺̩͈̰̮͕̮̫̤̰͓̹̍͐͂̈́̏̚ͅͅp̶̡̛̯̪̙̩͔͖͇̜͍̠̮͚͇͖̠̯̣̤̭̹̗̬͇̦̞͓̝͕̌̈͒̑͗̍̏̿̾͊̾́̄͛͆̅̑̈́̔͛̎̉̀͑͐́̿̾̕̚̕͜͠͝͠e̷̢̟͓̱͉̫̙̜̦̱̺͚̠͖̙͍̤̺͚̠̦͎͍̜͆́̽̊͗͂̂̐͛͌͛̚̚̕͝͠͝͠ŕ̶̡̧̨̢̨̡̧̢͍̩̤̼͍̞̪̙̰̮̘͕̺̼̟̝̭͚̯̠̪͉͖̭̬̮̙̺͓͇͙͍̙̙͔̺͚͊̐́̐̾͂͠ͅs̸̡̢̡̢̧̥̫̹͇̘̣͈͈̜̣̰̯͍͍̳͇͈̞̮̻̀̋́́̏͋̈̈́͛̓͘͜ͅí̵̧̡̨̧̢̡̧̯̼̳͍͇̣̗͍̬̹͈͕͓̠̹̰̹̱͕͓̦̫̪͈̞̞̙̺͎̝̞͕̳͉͈̲̻͉͎͇̬͉̇̿͂̏̋̽̈̇̿͗̄͊͌̌͛̅̐̈́̇̒̓̿͛̎̓̑͑̀̑͂͘̕͝͝ş̵̢̢̡̛̮̳̩̤̤̼̼͙͖̣̹̘̩͓̥͎̱̻̰̟̪̭̹̭̯̗͇̻̙̻̱̼̺̲͖͇̎̽̀̈̔̽̎̿͂͐͆͆͒͌̆̓͊̈́́̃̋̓́̃̋̊̒̑̈́͐̓͑̅͑̌͐̇͌͛̽͊̊̆͂͌̓̀̑͋̈̓͗͛̕̕͘͜͝͠ͅţ̴̨̢̨̮͔̬̖̫̞͕̖͙͚̙̳͖̮̣͎̜̱̙̗̙̭̦̮͉̙̲̙͍͍̋͂̾̈́̈́̈́̊͆̈́̍̚̚I̵̛̛̬̲̞̲͙̝̠̤͔̯̪͎̗̬̖̱̘̋͐̏̌̔̾͐͆̈́̇̾̿̍̉͊̽̊͂̈̅́̓̓̉̓̒̾̈̈́̓̕͘͜͠͝ͅ ̴̢̡̡̢̨̫̪̠̖̦̼̭̙̥̩̻̰̟̥̙͔͎͖͉̖̬̬͍̣̮͍̩̼͓̱͍̭̫̲̪͈̳͕̥̝̮̖̦̣̬̖͎̎̈̄̽͌ͅw̸̧̧̢̨̡̡̛̛̲͙̯̦͉̹͓͍͕̘̦̰͔͚̰̘̘͓͚̠͖̦͙͉̤̲̗̭͔͎͉͚͍͈͈̩̬̲̰̱̺̘̮̫̼̙̜͎̦̠͓͐̎̔̒̇̆̌̐̄̑̾̊̽̑̉̀̐͐̑̈́̈͊̑̈̉̃͒̓̓̌̿͂́̊̍͒͆̒̎͑͒̂̊̽͋́͒̎̽͛̕͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅį̸̖̬͈͑͑̉͗͜͜l̷̨̢̨̧̧̨̢̨̛͕̣̜̘̱̰̜͓͎̫̦͚̜̜̖̱̠͚̪̰̪̺̹̼̟͍̖͎̠̲͈͍̭͎̭͕̥͎̯̝͑̒͂͆̃̀͑͐̔̋̃̈́̂̀̅̃͛̔̌̔͐̚͜͜͝ͅͅl̸̡̨̛̼̖͎̫̯͎͔̼̹̹̘̻̲͇̖͍̺̦̳̘̬̫̳͉̻͍̥̮͎͔͌͛̍̒̎̒̌̈́̑̓̍͋̾̐̃̌̍́̆͒̈́̈̄̎̈́͒̔͆̎̈́͐̀̈̕̚͘͠͠͝ͅ ̶̡̢̠̖͔̻̥͉̟̜̹̺̩͈̰̮͕̮̫̤̰͓̹̍͐͂̈́̏̚ͅͅp̶̡̛̯̪̙̩͔͖͇̜͍̠̮͚͇͖̠̯̣̤̭̹̗̬͇̦̞͓̝͕̌̈͒̑͗̍̏̿̾͊̾́̄͛͆̅̑̈́̔͛̎̉̀͑͐́̿̾̕̚̕͜͠͝͠e̷̢̟͓̱͉̫̙̜̦̱̺͚̠͖̙͍̤̺͚̠̦͎͍̜͆́̽̊͗͂̂̐͛͌͛̚̚̕͝͠͝͠ŕ̶̡̧̨̢̨̡̧̢͍̩̤̼͍̞̪̙̰̮̘͕̺̼̟̝̭͚̯̠̪͉͖̭̬̮̙̺͓͇͙͍̙̙͔̺͚͊̐́̐̾͂͠ͅs̸̡̢̡̢̧̥̫̹͇̘̣͈͈̜̣̰̯͍͍̳͇͈̞̮̻̀̋́́̏͋̈̈́͛̓͘͜ͅí̵̧̡̨̧̢̡̧̯̼̳͍͇̣̗͍̬̹͈͕͓̠̹̰̹̱͕͓̦̫̪͈̞̞̙̺͎̝̞͕̳͉͈̲̻͉͎͇̬͉̇̿͂̏̋̽̈̇̿͗̄͊͌̌͛̅̐̈́̇̒̓̿͛̎̓̑͑̀̑͂͘̕͝͝ş̵̢̢̡̛̮̳̩̤̤̼̼͙͖̣̹̘̩͓̥͎̱̻̰̟̪̭̹̭̯̗͇̻̙̻̱̼̺̲͖͇̎̽̀̈̔̽̎̿͂͐͆͆͒͌̆̓͊̈́́̃̋̓́̃̋̊̒̑̈́͐̓͑̅͑̌͐̇͌͛̽͊̊̆͂͌̓̀̑͋̈̓͗͛̕̕͘͜͝͠ͅţ̴̨̢̨̮͔̬̖̫̞͕̖͙͚̙̳͖̮̣͎̜̱̙̗̙̭̦̮͉̙̲̙͍͍̋͂̾̈́̈́̈́̊͆̈́̍̚̚
They will grow up one day to not be like me.
Ģ̸̧̛̘̦̝̟͚͉̙̥̲̉̇̉͌̿̽̐̓̏̋͂̾̿̓̆͋̈́̈́͒̿̃͂͂̎́͐̅̐̇̀̈́͑̈́̒̏̿͆̍̈́͋̃͂̚̚̕̚̚̕̕͜í̶̧̨̠̭̟̻̦͉̣̬̒̽͊̂͒̾͑͗͗͌̈̈̑̏̏͋͆̂̇̎̀̓̒̽͂̈́͊̔̎͊̐͒͗̈́̇̋̐͂͆̐̄̔̐̋̿̐́̒̎́͌̿͌̍͑̚̚̕̚͘͘̚͜͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅv̸̧̨̧̨̡̛̖̪͈͈̣͇͎͖͎̠̠̭̣̪͖̜̱̹̟̫̠͍̗͉͎̰̣̲̬̜̮̜͍͉̞̪̹͎͈͙̱̗̲̯̤͇̲͓̬̱̝̟̥̰͖͙̤̻̟̱̰̣͉͔͇̟̰̪̻͉̝̬̗͚͖̞̫̜̯̹̬̟̲̳̲̙̥̩̓͛̍͒͆̍̆͑̊̄̇́̿̌̒̓͑̇͋͆͂̀̈́͆͑̏̄̂́͌̚͜͜͜͠ͅê̵̡̡̡̡̛̛̛̛͚̻̞̬̳̠̠̮̣̞̼̝̣̯̥͍͓͚̼͇̣͕̜̠̫̪̱̥̪̝̯̪̞̗̖͔̈́̐̆̎̇̆͂͆̽͂̇̒̆̏̎͂͒́͌̽͑̀̾̔́̀̆̄͊́̔͑̀̇̒̔̅̈́́́͌́̿̏̈́̇̎̍́̌̀́̓̊͆͆̀̀̌͋͋͘̚̚͘̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͠ͅ ̷̢̧̡̡̛̛̛̩͙̺̟̹̳̦̤̜͚͚̺͍̘̥̪͍̮̘͎͍͎̝̺̰̯͓͍̹̗̳̹̝͖̼̝͔͉̙̮͓̞͈͕̰̰̲̳̻̙͓̩͔̜͍̫̺̬͓̥͇̈́̌̌̍̈̅̾̽̊̾̌̃̽̓͆͐̏͒͌͒̽̓̔͑̽̔̓̆̈́̉͛̍͋̀̃́͒̈́͑̒͂̃̀̈́̍̈́̃̒̂͌̔̈́͛̎̅̒̽̎̌͑̿̔̂̆̉͒̀͒́͂͒͋̃͗̿̈́͆͌͑̽̄̓̉̚̚͘̕̚̚̕͜͜͜͝͝͝͠ͅm̸̨̢̡̨̨̡̧̢̧̮̥͙̠̙̮̖̲͎̭̩̻̺̣̭̦͖̘̺͖̬͎̯̙̘̦̳̮͍̗̘͖̦̖̲̪͕̦̱̮̥̼̦̦̲̻͇̳͚͎̠͎̘͓̺͖̖̠̲̘̝͍̺̩̪̼̰̼̦̝͙͎̟͉̙͓͚̈̀͒̐͋̂̄́̆͗͜͜͜ͅͅȩ̴̢̡̨̡̢̛̞̣̱̙͈͍̼̟̳̥̥͍̰̟̫͙͙͇̫̘̥̭̬̦̯̞͖̮̠͍̹̙͇̘̞̹̻̱̝͔͍̙͕̦͔̭͇̠̙̖̪̦͈͔̜̥͇͎͖̦͎̣̙̲̻͕͉̘̙͙̳̼̀̏͂̈̈̀̃̔̀́̈́̂̍̃͐̀̔̏̈̎̎͐͛͜͝ͅ ̷̢̨̧̢̛̛̦̣̭͙̩̖͉͍͙͈͓̦̞̠̣̻͔̲͎͙͈̖̪͙̦̱̻̥͇͔̫̉̒͐̌̀̿̿̃̈̏̅̈́̈́͛̃̅͋̇͌̐̽̂̔͑̎͌́̽̔͂̇̂̀̌̂̽͌͋͑͋͐̑͒͐̊̍̐̏̅̎̏̎͛̄͐̅̿̆̑̀̓̏́̃̿̃̊̇͒̀̎̍̍͂̊͒̂̌̎̌̚͘͘͘͘͘͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅṭ̴̨̡̧̧̡̢̧̳͍̼̞̗̤̲̝̲͉̙̲̳̯̜̱͖̘͉̺̖̱̩̱̭̰͖̰͎͙͖̤͙͙̠̙̹̺͚͓͔͕̫̭̭̹͇͈̳̭̱̮͓͔̣̳̜̗͖̤͉̮̬̗̟̫̱͇̱͎̹̺͉͍̞͔̗̣̬̱̘̱͌̏͑͂̍͌̏̆̓̆͆̃̑̆̀͊̋̋̈̑̓͊̀̓͜͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅi̸̢̤̪̪͉̮̍̏̀̄̈͐̉̈́͋͌̆͆̚͜ͅṁ̸̢̢̛͓̦̬̖̝͖͚̘̙̙̪̺͈͎͕͇̭̹̳͎̘̞̯͈͉̠̼̟̯́͆̊͐̌͆̈́͛̾͑͘͜͝͝ͅë̴̛͙̜̠̗̼̠̗͈̭̘̞͉͖͚͖͙͈̯̙̮̪̰̥͙́̎͋̑͆̑͌̌͒̄̆͒̔̓̊͐͗̀͛̃̋͆̓̇͗͌̋̓̃́̐̒̐̉͒̋̾̈̐̈́̒͘̕̚͠͝͝͝ͅĢ̸̧̛̘̦̝̟͚͉̙̥̲̉̇̉͌̿̽̐̓̏̋͂̾̿̓̆͋̈́̈́͒̿̃͂͂̎́͐̅̐̇̀̈́͑̈́̒̏̿͆̍̈́͋̃͂̚̚̕̚̚̕̕͜í̶̧̨̠̭̟̻̦͉̣̬̒̽͊̂͒̾͑͗͗͌̈̈̑̏̏͋͆̂̇̎̀̓̒̽͂̈́͊̔̎͊̐͒͗̈́̇̋̐͂͆̐̄̔̐̋̿̐́̒̎́͌̿͌̍͑̚̚̕̚͘͘̚͜͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅv̸̧̨̧̨̡̛̖̪͈͈̣͇͎͖͎̠̠̭̣̪͖̜̱̹̟̫̠͍̗͉͎̰̣̲̬̜̮̜͍͉̞̪̹͎͈͙̱̗̲̯̤͇̲͓̬̱̝̟̥̰͖͙̤̻̟̱̰̣͉͔͇̟̰̪̻͉̝̬̗͚͖̞̫̜̯̹̬̟̲̳̲̙̥̩̓͛̍͒͆̍̆͑̊̄̇́̿̌̒̓͑̇͋͆͂̀̈́͆͑̏̄̂́͌̚͜͜͜͠ͅê̵̡̡̡̡̛̛̛̛͚̻̞̬̳̠̠̮̣̞̼̝̣̯̥͍͓͚̼͇̣͕̜̠̫̪̱̥̪̝̯̪̞̗̖͔̈́̐̆̎̇̆͂͆̽͂̇̒̆̏̎͂͒́͌̽͑̀̾̔́̀̆̄͊́̔͑̀̇̒̔̅̈́́́͌́̿̏̈́̇̎̍́̌̀́̓̊͆͆̀̀̌͋͋͘̚̚͘̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͠ͅ ̷̢̧̡̡̛̛̛̩͙̺̟̹̳̦̤̜͚͚̺͍̘̥̪͍̮̘͎͍͎̝̺̰̯͓͍̹̗̳̹̝͖̼̝͔͉̙̮͓̞͈͕̰̰̲̳̻̙͓̩͔̜͍̫̺̬͓̥͇̈́̌̌̍̈̅̾̽̊̾̌̃̽̓͆͐̏͒͌͒̽̓̔͑̽̔̓̆̈́̉͛̍͋̀̃́͒̈́͑̒͂̃̀̈́̍̈́̃̒̂͌̔̈́͛̎̅̒̽̎̌͑̿̔̂̆̉͒̀͒́͂͒͋̃͗̿̈́͆͌͑̽̄̓̉̚̚͘̕̚̚̕͜͜͜͝͝͝͠ͅm̸̨̢̡̨̨̡̧̢̧̮̥͙̠̙̮̖̲͎̭̩̻̺̣̭̦͖̘̺͖̬͎̯̙̘̦̳̮͍̗̘͖̦̖̲̪͕̦̱̮̥̼̦̦̲̻͇̳͚͎̠͎̘͓̺͖̖̠̲̘̝͍̺̩̪̼̰̼̦̝͙͎̟͉̙͓͚̈̀͒̐͋̂̄́̆͗͜͜͜ͅͅȩ̴̢̡̨̡̢̛̞̣̱̙͈͍̼̟̳̥̥͍̰̟̫͙͙͇̫̘̥̭̬̦̯̞͖̮̠͍̹̙͇̘̞̹̻̱̝͔͍̙͕̦͔̭͇̠̙̖̪̦͈͔̜̥͇͎͖̦͎̣̙̲̻͕͉̘̙͙̳̼̀̏͂̈̈̀̃̔̀́̈́̂̍̃͐̀̔̏̈̎̎͐͛͜͝ͅ ̷̢̨̧̢̛̛̦̣̭͙̩̖͉͍͙͈͓̦̞̠̣̻͔̲͎͙͈̖̪͙̦̱̻̥͇͔̫̉̒͐̌̀̿̿̃̈̏̅̈́̈́͛̃̅͋̇͌̐̽̂̔͑̎͌́̽̔͂̇̂̀̌̂̽͌͋͑͋͐̑͒͐̊̍̐̏̅̎̏̎͛̄͐̅̿̆̑̀̓̏́̃̿̃̊̇͒̀̎̍̍͂̊͒̂̌̎̌̚͘͘͘͘͘͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅṭ̴̨̡̧̧̡̢̧̳͍̼̞̗̤̲̝̲͉̙̲̳̯̜̱͖̘͉̺̖̱̩̱̭̰͖̰͎͙͖̤͙͙̠̙̹̺͚͓͔͕̫̭̭̹͇͈̳̭̱̮͓͔̣̳̜̗͖̤͉̮̬̗̟̫̱͇̱͎̹̺͉͍̞͔̗̣̬̱̘̱͌̏͑͂̍͌̏̆̓̆͆̃̑̆̀͊̋̋̈̑̓͊̀̓͜͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅi̸̢̤̪̪͉̮̍̏̀̄̈͐̉̈́͋͌̆͆̚͜ͅṁ̸̢̢̛͓̦̬̖̝͖͚̘̙̙̪̺͈͎͕͇̭̹̳͎̘̞̯͈͉̠̼̟̯́͆̊͐̌͆̈́͛̾͑͘͜͝͝ͅë̴̛͙̜̠̗̼̠̗͈̭̘̞͉͖͚͖͙͈̯̙̮̪̰̥͙́̎͋̑͆̑͌̌͒̄̆͒̔̓̊͐͗̀͛̃̋͆̓̇͗͌̋̓̃́̐̒̐̉͒̋̾̈̐̈́̒͘̕̚͠͝͝͝ͅ
A life in constant motion, yet repeating the same cycle over and over again. Every day, week, month, and year loops around far too slowly. As every week ends the same way, I no longer feel time.

It has been close to a year.

Running constantly from a future fated to be a cycle. I hit a dead end every single time.

I so desperately wanted to break free of this never-ending cycle. I fought hard. I misjudged my strength. There was nothing to save me. There was never an easy way out.
Ị̸̢̧̧̨̡̡̡̡̧̨̨̨̢̨̡͖͇͙̜̹̼̼̰̜̥͖̥̗̪̟̫̬͇͉̜̞̹͍̱̥̲͈̭͔̫̘̗̠͕̻̩͚̥̰̦͙̬̘̖̟̞̣̝̗̘̳̟̳͚̳̹͍̝̠͚̣̖̣̭̞̝̙̘̲̺̖̺̺̩̟̫͉̗͍͍͈̠̪̪͓͈̩͓̩͈̗̹̹͕͚͎͕̝͎̹̘̬̭̭͉͖̦͑̉̔̑̌̍͐̽̎͆̏̆͛͑̌̆̆͘͜͠͠ͅͅͅ ̶̢̢̡̡̡̛̛̭̼̝̳̳̣̠̹̠̦̙̠̠̹̹͚̖͇̞̺͉͙̩̘͍͇̝͈͋̒́̉͑̂̑̂̉̈́̂̍̓̈͌̀̇͗͊̍́͊̀̑́̑̎̈́͒̈́͆̄́̃̎̍̀̿̔̊͗́̾̔̔̂̒̿͌̾̽̉̂̏̈́͂̒̐̈͌̑̊͒͂̾̓̉̎̽̀̔̕͘̚͜͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͠͝j̶̛̛̫̞͍͍̆̔͂̀̑̈́̓̑͋͋̋̅̓́̈̊͋̔́̌̒̇͋͐̔̆̈́̽̂̔̆̂̕͘͝͝ư̴̢̢̧̢̡̧̧̡̡̡̨̧̢̡̨̛̛̤̹͎̗̣͓̮̺̬͎̣͓̯̮͔͎̝͍̰̺̹̖̘̥͍̟͍͚̗̗͈͉̰̲̻̦̟̫̫̙̯͇͈͎͚͉̪̙͓̤̬͍̩̹̭͓̘͓̪̘̥̟̪̹̟̝̘͉̭͎̘͓̩͚̪̦̜̖͚̭̻̬͖͚̞̫̘͎͙͍͙̭̻̱̩̳̦̬͍̗͈̪͙̭̞͈͚̜͎͕̮͈̌͐́̌̋̉̐͑̃̒̒̒̉̏̊̂͆̏̏͒̀̄̒̉̍̂̅͂̅̓̓͂͊̄̾́̈́͂͌̈͆̀̇̽̀̋̽̈̌̃̀͛͛̾͂͊͋͗̊͐͆̆̎̈́̎̀̆͒̑̉͆̕͘̚͘̕̕͝͝͝͝ͅͅş̵̧̧̢̢̢̢̡̨̢̢̛͙͙̝͈͈̙͍̞̮̙̱̻̥͎̙͉̰͔͉̻̪̩̮̖̙̯̞͕͕̞̤͎͍̗̗̮̞̫̥̥̦͉̩͓̹̖̤͍̫̬̥͎͓͍̰̜̹͉̻̺̹̦̰̲̯͖͖̝̙̤̙̠̞̩͎̙̹̲̥̤̱̙̖̠̙͓̤͙̦̘̭͓̟̟̞̥̜̗̹͈̠̗͕̥͇͕̥̙̀̇̉̽̅̀̂́̀͌̍́͜͜͜͝͝ͅṱ̷̛̛̛͓̯̹̖̻̰̠̗͈̹̫̝͂͗͌̽̉̂͂͐̒͌̔̊̄͆̒͗͒̈́̌̽̽̎̀̍́̌̓͋̄̑͂̌̓͆̅͒̊̓͐̔̆̄̑͐̌͑͒̐͑̿̀́̅̒͆̒̿͒̓͂̈́̍̓̿̃̈̏̄͆̈́́͆́́̀̂́̑̅̏͆̅͊̍̈́́́̎͆̆̿̚̚͘̕͘͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͠ͅ ̶̢̢̢̢̢̨̛̛̟͔̖̟̳̱͎̩̭̳̞̼̲̭̞̠͇̯͙͈̫̹̰͍͔̬̱̫̪͇̼̫͈̹̦̥̝͔̬͉̫͕͖̗̳̟̱͖̺͖̫̪̱̟͖̯̘̺̰̘̘̻͚͍̟̠͉̮͉̀̈́̄̾́̅̐͆̃̀͐̋͗͂͆̈̒̀̅̀̾̇̓̀̃̎͋̿͗̆̍̏͋̎̉̋͊̋̆̈́͐̋̔̈̉̉͑̾̂̌̾́͗̈̽̃̎̾̓̄̓͂̈́͆̒̆͛́̌̊̐͘͘͘͘̕̚͘͘̚͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠ͅͅͅņ̶̧̧̨̡̧̨̧̡̛̛̛̛̛̛̲͖͕̩͙̘̮̖̤̲̖̘͙̫̩̯̰͓̤̻͙͉̮̺͎̪̠̺̲͈͕̫̬̤̫̖͓̮̮̰͖̖̲͈͕̲̜͍̘̝̦̞͓͍̺̫̺͍̝̹͖̐̃̈̾͐̑͑͒͑̃̇̈́͛̊͋̌́̅̑͌̒̀̉̍͆̽̉͊͒̃̉̌̃͆͋̋̀̆̀͗́͐̊̊̊͗͛̅͐̊̓̾͋͋͊̾̍͂̓͋̾̈́̍́̆̂̐̂͑̄̋͘̚̚̚͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͠͝͝͠ͅͅȩ̸̨̢̧̧̧̡̧̨̡̛̙̮͚̙͕̣͍̩̘̘̝͎̼̗͈̜̺̗̪̮̗̬̝̖͕͉͉̺̘̦̳̻͈̝̮̰͉̼̖̖̠̫̲̺̠̗̩̺͔͓̳͔̱͚͓͕̭̩̪̙̝̭̟̳̭͖̞͎̝͈̙̮̠̙̹͎̲͛͊̇͗̑̐̒͂͋̈́̄͒͒͋̄̔́͑̿́̃̕͠͝ͅȩ̷̧̡̨̨̧̢̛̛̣̭͔̣̫͎͕͙͔̹̞̹͖̝͎̙̻̙̺̺̲͚͈̭̳̜̱̱̰͚̲̮̪̮͔̣̺̣̱̗̠̲̫͉̙͕̗̭̭̼̅̔̑̿̀́̈́̐̋̽̆͛̏̌͆̄̈́̈́̌̉͂̆͒́͐̆̈͒̓̈́͐̀́̓̓͑̈́̋̀̐͂̽͂̂̓̉̒̑̎̄̾̉͒̂̄͋̈́̍̉́͆̾̈́̐̏́͌̄̇̀̎̑̽̈́̈́͆̃͂͒̃̚̕͘̕̚̕͜͠͝͝͝ͅͅd̶̡̨̨̨̧̛̞͕͈̮̩͔̼̤͈̥͍͚̺̻̣̖̗̥͍̠̟̼͚͔͍͉̜̗̱̘̪̤̫̙̲̻̹͉̘̘͓̩̣͎̜͕̺͈͍̳͔͙͉̜̺̭͓̫̲̻̰̺͕͉͚̘̦̞̠̰̣̳̟̪̗̝͉̝͍̭͓̰̠̰͉̣͓͕̦̹̄̿̎̋̏̾͐̀̎̆̃̈́̌͋̅̅̔͐̂͊̑̀͗̾̀͛̓̔̒̌͒̅͐̉̓̆͛̋͌̐̉̄̎͐̒̽͒̅͑͜͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅ ̴̧̧̨̧̨̡̧̢̢͎̠̩̪͚̮̩͙̱̠̹̳̦̰͇͚͎͙̬̥̦͇̞͇̙̤͙̰̞͎͙̟̣͈̤͍̠̗̟̩̞̤͚̫̫̫̲̠̱̱̺̠̹̘͖̜̩̝̖̩̹̞̝̪̯͎̲͚̞̟̺̤̪̟̹̘͎̺̦̳̞̥͕͔̟͕̜̮͚̘̰̤̭͍̭̩̩̮̞̞̘͇͔̹͈́͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅͅt̶̢̨̢̡̧̢̛͚͉̭̠̩͇̙̘̪͕̳̩̟͉͕̺͎̳̰̥͚͓̜̱͍̳̙͔̲̪͉̩͉̤̼͚̰͖̼̻̟̪͕̱̳̟̰͉̳̩̠̂́̋͛̏͋͑̽́̌͊͌̍̂͐̀͑̆͂̍̾̈́̔̐̌̂̐̂̀̍̃͑̂̀̃̂̑́̔̽̈́͒̌͛̆̀̒̓̍̏̈́̀̽̏͊̽̆͛̀̀̀̈̅̈́̈́̿̆̍̏̓̐̎̋̈́̊͗͘͘̚͘̕̚̚̚͜͝͠͝͝͠ͅơ̵̢̢̨̡̡̨̢̛̰̻̤̻̥̼̮̭̺̪̼̟̟̗̝̟͖̝̩͖͇͎̘̘̻̳̗̟̼͈͉̭̖̻͚̹̯͙̮͙̹͈̪̣̜̣͚̺̝̠̤͚̟̟̭͎͓̮̣̟̠̙̻͉̪̘̖̰̼̜͙͔̲͖̻̬͇̣̲͈̻͎͍̪̤̩͖͈̱̼̩̗̮̳̞̗̦̱͔̲̳̪͖̙̈́̈́̈́͊̏̏̔̅͐̅͗͑̎͆̅̐̅̾̀͛̍̐͑̿̐̅̉̍̈̿̕͘͘͘͘͜͜͜͠͝ͅͅ ̸̧̧̢̛̝̲̺̦̮̣̠͚̯̦̘̦̫̙̠̳̰͈̳̯̝̯̠̼̮͓̘̩͇̖̤̮̱̟͎̼͔͈̝̗͙͉̳̺̬̜̮̓́̈́̑̆͑͋͊̔̾͐̐̾̿̇̏͂̐́͛̈́̇̿͋̈̀̄̌̇͒͌̓̾̾̋̒͜͝͝͝͠ͅͅị̷̢̡̧̧̡̧̧̡̡̧̛͙̭̩͎̬̳̻̠͕͔̘͉͙̲͔̜̘̩̦̙̣͖̻̲̭̝̳̮̟̣̯͎̝͈͙̠͓̻̻̻̹͇̩̞̪̼͇̺̳̜̯̼̝͎͙̼̠̺͓͉͍̝̟̘͇̜̦̭͈͈̎̓̈́͌͂̐́̎̐̀̒͗͐̈́́̽̂̏̋̐͑̍̈́̓͗́͒͗̊͑̀̐̓̃̽̓̕̚̚͘͠͝͠͝n̵̡̡̛̛̻̱͍̺̙͎̹̖̺̩͔͙̮̺̯̻̜̞̹̥͕̙̦̫̭̯͎̻͔̦̻͈̖͔̱̯̮͚͖̱̜̮̠̱̥̑̽́̀͗̆͂̅͑̈́͌̃̒̀̂́̀̊̃̑̑̍͑́͑̈́̎̅́̅͊̀͆́̽́͐̑̿̉̂́̃̏̀̿͋̋̉̊̊̾͆̽̍̈́́͋̂͂́̆̈́͗̿̊͊͒͆̈́̋͒̉̋̋̈́̀̅̐̾͗̂̊̕̕̕̚̕̚͘͝͝ͅţ̶̢̢̡̧̨̛̺̥̺̗̗͖͕̜͕̠͉͕̯͉̞̱̦͈̺̳̖̣̤̜̼̮͉̮̰͔̦̯̬̺͖͕̟͉̖͉̼̜̻̖̪͎̗̰͉̾̆͊͛͑͐̈́̏͆́͆͌̔̌̇̐̓̐̈́͑͒̈́̅͐͒̈̄͐̅̏͊͆̓̓̀̒̓̇̐̈́͐͊̍̀̍̈̃̐͋͘͘͜͜͜͝ȓ̷̨̧̢̨̧̡̛̛͈̗̰̯͖̗̞̦͚̖̲̞̞̬̖̠̫̺͚̝̙͎̲͈̳̺̟̪̗̯̟̺̳͔͖͍͈̥͍̮̣͈̬̫̫̞͕̳͚̮̦̗̱̺͙̘͓̦̥̬̼͙̬͍̲͖̅͛̈́͌͐͑͂̀̊͗̋̇̄͗̿̉̋̓̈́̒̑̈͛̈͂̾̉͊̈́̐͒̏̀̈̓̋̏̃̎̿͒̀̈̌͒̎̑̈́̀̐̓̏͋̐͒̈́̐̈̐͐̅̾̽̋̌͋̽͆̏̾̀͋̀͘̚̕͘̕̚̚̕͜͜͜͜͠͠͠͠͠ơ̶̧̢̢̡̧̡̧̧̧̢̡̡̧̡̨̧̧̛̛̰̖̼͇̥̖̥̣̺̰͖̫͕̳͍̫̭̟̥̬͈̙̯̜̥͙̗̱̥̪̝̟̗̼̝̣͙̜̗̯̻̭̙̘̞͕̻̙͇̺͓̭͖̥͉̱͕̜̱̳̜̳̘̮̮̩̩͎̲̦̱̰̤͉̣̺̝̟̮̗̣̱̲͉̝̯̙͕̖̜̫̠̼̠̭̖̳̭͙͚͓͕̯̬̈́͌̑̓̀̈̾̋͌̅́̊͛̍̐͆̎̽̒̋̿͊́͂̓̉̅̓͒̎̾́̆̐́͑̔͛͂͊̂̑̄̋̽̈̀̏̉̑̑̅̐̉͒̅̀̆̓̌́̀̀̇̍̊̓̉̾͒̓̇͌͊̿͒́̐̿̀͐̀͋̐͐͐͒̋̇̉͒̀̑̓̏͐͆̌̀̊̐́̋̋̕̕̚͘͘͘͘̕͘͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅͅḑ̸̡̧̡̛̛̛̪̱̗̪̘̲͔͔̟̻̰̰̝̮̬̣̳͇͕̣͙̼̣͉͎̜͙̮͕̮͇͖̗̞̮̺͕͍̣͔̳͓̗̤̬̈́͋̋̈́̔̓̅̈͑͛̆̀̌͊͊͋̾̐̅̓̀͆̅̓͆̀̑́̓̅͂̀̓̌̀̂̀̋͆̀́̈́͑̐̍̑̅̔͌́͑̀̀̂̍̈́̓͛̍̊̇̓̓̄̆̚͘̚̕͜͝͠͠͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͝ͅͅͅų̶̢̧̨̢̢̧̛̛͓̗̘̞̳̼͈̦̺̖̖̟͕̯̹̪̟̯̹̯̰̺͕̺̲̤͖̦̰̠̻͎̩̠͔̯̖̗̬̜͙̙͔̳͉͖̱̻̯̪̳̩͖̙̥̝̻̲̱͉͖͎͔̮͎̘̖̝͖͊̈́̐̍͗̑̓̍̄͌͑̒̈́̏͋͗̿̾̓̏͋̑̈́̏̐̈̏̂͂̈́͑͒̎͋̃̑̓͊̏̓͋̅͌̈́͐͒͂̌̿̈́̊̄͊̂̅̉̅̆̓͒͗̈̏͒́̔͐̓͒͋̌̑̆͂̑̑̍̾̏̀̃͒͘̚͘̕͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅc̸̡̧̨̛̳̯͕̹̺̖͚̞̣̳̤̝̭͉̯̲͖̭͕̻͓͍̟̼̞̟͉̼̺̯͖̓͆͊̋̃̋̐́̆̑̿̑̒̋̽̾͐̓̈́̈́̍̑̊͗͆͒̆̊͛̽̓̿̈́̆̈́̀̾̿̋̊̂̆̍͑̋̈́̓̏͋͐̈́̀̄̀̈́̊̍́̌̋̕͘͘̚͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅȩ̷̨̨̡̨̢̡̡̡̧̢̛̼̻̖͙̤͖̥͖̟͇̩͕͚̙̠̟̪̤͍͉̪͔̬̮̣̣͇̘̞͕͇̺͓̲͍̮̥̪͍̟̹̺̫̟͕̰̦̥̹̻̘̪̟̜̩̪̙͈͎͈̝̩̖̠͙͚̜̫̥̭̖̬̋͒͛͒̇̈́͛͐͗͗̿̓̄́͑̊́̈́̏͋͗̔̉͗̊̾̔̂̃̈̿̊̄̔̂̀͌̉̆͂̃̈̏̌̍͒̑̏́̚̕̚̕̚͜͜͝͝ͅͅ ̵̡̡̧̡̧̢̧̨̨̛̛̛͎̹̰͙̘̙̫̻̝͇̗̯͍̤͖̬͇̜̼̫̠͚͇̤̭̠̹̱̫͇͎̥͖͙̠̙̙̘͙̘̜̫̣̮̻͔͈̬̩͚̻̹͖̯̯̺͖͇̖̝͙̯̳̭̹͇̟̯̣̗͚̥͈̟̬̝̤̥͈̫̝̣͉̝̱̦̳̤͚̞̙̬̠͊́̈́͐͂͋̃̓̆̍͐̈͐̒̃̋́̍̏̓̎̒͛̃͑̋́̓̑͗͐̏͛̓͋͆̐̈́̏̏̃̂̅̐̿́̒͐̂̈̋́̀̅̒͒͆̋̊͐̀́̏͆̊̓̽̓́̌̄͑͘̕͘͘͘͜͝͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅā̶̧̧̧̨̢̛̞̦͚̬̦͚̖̱̣̫͖̜̹̖̬̯̣͖̖̳͔̯̟̘͍̱̺̺̘̯̣̰͓͔̺̣̫͕̪͔̳̍͌̽͆̿̆̃͛̎̅̃̓̑̊̃̈́͐̏̀̈̀̌̀̓̆̽̌̈̀̑̈́̆̋̅͊͂̃̀̉͒̈́̈́̆̅̔̐̆͆͛̑̅̊͛͘̕̚̕͘͘̕͠ͅͅņ̷̨̡̨̡̡̢̧̻̘̯̥͈̩͍͚̱̩̯̳̗͎̥̘̪̲̙̩̘͍̼̼͓̜̪̬̗͎̳̖̦̼̤̩͓̮̺͈̭̺̝̺̦̗̩͖̮̫̬̙͈̞̫̖̺̯̼̥̥̪̰̠̣̦̬̭̱̙̻͈͓̥͖̬̭̯̥̭̬͕̠͖͖̠̞̤̹̙̟̞̹̪̬̯̻͇̬̼̳̣̪̗͔̓̄̾̈́͛̈́͌͂̎͆͒́̏͋͂̈́́̈́̐́́̊̇̐͒̎̈́͑͆̀͐̅̃̏̐͒͐͜͜͜͝ͅͅ ̴̡̢̡̢̢̨̛̛̯̯̱̯̦͚̙̯̫̖͓̭̻̗͓̟̣̬̹̗̦͓͖̫̩̝̻̦͖̩̹̝͈̯͈̮̙͕̫̝̲̱͕̥͖͓͕̲͍̖̘̣̹̩̘̼̙̝̒̐̄̅͗̋́̑̄̆̿̑̌̊̒͗́̇͂͌͊̊̀̓̈̐̀̋̈́̑̅̋͌̈̎̉̕͘̕͘̕͝͠͝͝͠ͅͅA̴̢̡̧̢̨̢̢̧̧̧̛̛̛͙͉̝̯͚̭͖̝̣͇͓͍̭̳͖͎̩̻͈̖̻̯͖͍͎͓̤̗̗̰͍̱̦̻͔͔̹͉̝̲̦̜͖̘̩̹͍͓͔͕̜̟͖̺̫͕͙̠̫̙̗̯̮̤̠̗̹̘̲͚͚̹̙̭̥̤̥̩̖̝͎̎̐̊̈́͋̽͆̐̎͛̍̆̃̓͛̓̂̑͑͐̉̾̓͆̾̎̾̃̾̄́͋̑̋́͂̐̽͋̅́̓̈́̽͌͒̆͛̔͆̇̆͐̃͒́͗͘̚̚͘̚̕͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅŅ̵̨̧̛͕̼͕̥̤̞̪̫̱̜͓̬̝̭̜͙̟̘̭̭̗̖̭̰̰̠͇͔̣̣͙̞̘̼̣̗̱͔̦̲̻̭̼͔̦͕̞̠̣͈̂̋̑̓͋̐̍̅̃͌̊̐̎̄͑̔͝Ơ̴͎͇̖̣͔͉̫̯̟͙̩͈̤̤̭̫̜̩̳͉̅̆̇̒̆͒͒̐̀͑̊͛̊͊̎̽̊̏̓̈́̓́̔̋̀̀͒́̌̌̾͛̃͑͐́͌̋̈́̒̀̍͗̈́͛̾̇̽̆̊̋̊́͐͌͆̏̂̈̅̚̚̚̚̕͘̕͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝M̸̧̛̛̝͔̥̦̗̥̠̭͈̪̩̫̜̺͚͉̰̰̩̞͍̩͎͍͊̾̾̑͗͛̇͐͋̆̅̑̾̏̏͐̄̍̉͗̈͛̉͑̅̃͛̍̈̔̂͆̅̈́́̀̑̒̔̓̀̈̎́̔̒͐̑͒̈́͊͛̍̄́̽̀́̾̒̈̽͂̐̋̈́͌̒̆̓̊̎̉͊̿̒̓̎́̀͑͒̏́̊̌̌̀̈̎̿̇̀̒̈́͒̍̽͂̄̽̌̕̚͘̚̕̚̚̕̕͜͠͝͠͠ͅͅA̷̡̟̞̫̗͙̻̦̙̖̥͂̆̏̽͋͒̾͂̽͑̀̒͆͜L̵̢̡̡̡̢̛̛̖̝̩̩̺̰͈̯͙̭͕̫͓͖̱͚̯̫̣̳̫͇̭̪̮͚͙͔̜̩̥̮̣̮͉̯̩̟̤̘̬̬͇̣̰̤̱̘̲͚̮̦̭͈̤̱̗̮̰̪̦͙̠̟̰͔̜̣͓̯̣̥͙̮̩̜̾̂̈́̈̿̓̐̑́̆̍͋̀̀̿͊͋̋̓̾̄̑̌͑͌̂̃̉̈́̑̃̑̃̐̈́̌̅̅̇̄̓̏̓͐̄͋̓͌̐͒̀̃͒͊̈̏̄͛́̒̾͗̕̕̕͘͜͠͝͠ͅỴ̷̨̧̢̧̢̨̨̢̯̝̱͕̰̱͔̗͎̗͚̙̗͓̦͖̪̺̟̻̤͉̤̭̘̗̱͚̥͈̦̬̮͍͓̙̻̝̯̰̹̪̱̪̹̩̩̗͈̺̱̮̖̲̳̙̪̲̦̰͚̮̤͓̤̰̫̰̦͓̲͙͉̭͚͕̥͙̠͓̠̠͚̠̗̰̝͍͖̯̞̝͔͙̖̯̥̻͙̰͈̮̉̈́͊͑͂͛̊̋͑̇̌̇̀͛̍͑͛́̐͋̒̂͗͂̈́̐̋̓͑͂̆̾́͂̉͋̀̆̃͛̎̿̓̓̏̑̌̀͛͆͆̆͒̈͛̃͐͋͋̊̿̄̊͌̐͑̋͛̀̌̏͒͌͋̔̽́̊̋͌̏́̇͑̒̍̆̽̋̿̽̔̑̀̅͋̓̓̚̚̕͘͘̚̚̕̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅ
A cycle repeating endlessly I̵̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̟̞̪̤̠͓͓͐͒̒̾̀̐̂͋͆̽̑͗̍͌̈̿̇̿̋̈̓̀͊͋͗̃͐͗̀̿̆̽͋̾̄̈̈̐̈́̍̈́̃̏͑̿̏̓̏̂̀̿̌̀͐̈͊̂̍́̂̍̅̏͂́̽͋̈́̋̀̐͐͛̀̍̏̊̄̊̀̽̔̉̏̑̇͂͒̓̏̐͐́͐̇̌̓̅̐̏̉͐̓̿͆͑̉͛͊̎̑̇̀̓̽̅̈́̑̉̇͗͌̀̔̈͊̊͌͛͋͊̄͊̓̏̏̅̀̈́̓̃̀̄͐͒̅̿͑͒̒̃͗͗̉͛͐͋̊͒̽͛͐͐̏͆́̉͗́̿͛̏̆̊̅͂́̏̓̊̎̌̔͛́̋͊͒͊̄̋̉͐̇̋̂̓̕͘̕͘̚̚͘̚͘͘͠͝͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝ ̴̢̨̢̨̡̡̧̨̢̡̨̢̨̧̢̨̡̨̡̢̧̨̛̛̛̛̛̭̰̱̮̟̺̘͓̭͖̬̦̱̟̱̮̼͖̼̺̹͓͙̦̪̗̮̬͚̗̗͕̲̟̫͙̰̱̤̰̝̜̜̼̳̣̫̠̞̙̲̝̪̖̠̫̬̺͓͕̼̫̫̼͔̫̬͇̼̭̞̞͈̮̪͈̖͚͎̲̥͎͙̲̹̮̱̮̼͉͚̦͈̼͈̯̞̱͉͍͇̖͔͔̟̤̦͍̲̗̫͉̱̻̥̫͚̙͖͎̬̯̟̣̲̼͓̗̟̠̠̠̩̱̙̘̝̰̗̙͇͉̖͈̫͔͔̺̞̗̤͉͇͔͓̦̬̖̣̫͙̱̗͎̦̮̫̱̲̯̯̝̦͚̗̳̱̘͇̪͔̦͍͔̩̩̗̞̟̹̙̻͎̻͖̝͎͓̩̙̯̮͎̝͓̞̫̘̦̝̦͕̥̭͚̯͔͍̝͈̼̫̟̗̫̯̱̩̙̜̩̼͚̼͓̖̖͈͍̰̞̹̙̲̬̤̺̳̻̼̼̯͇̞̣͖̭̈́̃̈́̇́̎̀͆̏̿͋́̄̿̊̀̅͛͆̄̽͛̀͋̈́͆̏̅̅̾̃̈́̀̃͒̏̊͊͋̾̓͋̍̇̒̉̉̀̍̋̊̃̉̓̎̀̓̓͊̊̆̂̆̑͋̈́̽̿̈́̔̍̒̈́̀̉́̐̓̔̈͒̊̒̇͛̎͋̇̈́̍̏̋̊̓̒͗͗̀̓̈͐̍̓̇̊̈͋̊̽̈́̑̆̑̃͆͒̾̄̌͛́̔̀̍̌̎̅̾͛̒̉͆̆̔̀̈́̂̂̾̓̊͋̃̃͂̍̌̾̒̆͗̌̏́̓̈́̇̂̄̽̓̋̅͂̅͑̈́́̀̂͆̐̀́͑͂͐̄̊͆̀̔͆̄͛̈́̒̽̊̆́̅̍̌̔̓͌͋̓͒̇̿͆̅̊̌̂͘̚͘͘̚̕͘̚̕̚̚̚̚̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅj̴̨̢̡̢̨̨̨̛̛̛̛͓̣͉̮͎̫̜̥̥̰̲͙͎̝̙̗̯̳͚͕̦̙͖̦̤̙̖̺͔̤̹̮͇̲̣͕̝̝̥͈̪͚͉̗̳̜͔͉̙̜̹͓̱͔̠̮̫͉̼͈̻̙̩̦̲̣̮̩̲̹̫̠̞̩̣̬̮̣͕̯̪͈͚͊͛͋̽̿̊̂̉̌͊͐̈́͛̍͑̒̓͐̔̈́́̅̾̏̒́̍̌̽̅̉̋͑̆͒͑̈́͗́̎͒͛̈́̀͌͑̇̒̉̓͌̌̐̿̈́͌̔̅̄͐̅́̈́̉̀͆̿̊͂̔͐͋̽͊̈̃̃̓͛̃̽́̆́̐̆̋̔͌̎̆̋̋̀̋͗̉͆̀̓̎͗̇̑͐́̇͒̍̌̿̃̂̎̀̀̑͂̎͑̂̄̈̔̿̅̄̑̃̓̌̇̓͂̋̈́̅͐̐͋̀̋́͌̔̌̌̓͌̏̽͗͌́́̏̉͐̒͐̀̉̃̃̇̌͋̒̎̓͑͊̐͊̐̒̾́̂͂͊͒͆̏͆̏̈̑̂̓̑̾͌̈́̇̀͛̑̿͐̍̓͊̓͊̏̈́̄͌̊̿̓͋̓̓̊͒̒͊́̓̉̋̿̄̂̉͗͊̅͐̅̌̐̍̀͐̂̌͆͒̈́̅͊̑̏͗̇̈́̕͘̕͘̚̕̕̚͘̕͘͘̚͘̚̕̚̚̚̚̕͘͘͜͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅư̵̢̧̢̢̡̢̢̢̢̧̛̛͉̺̯̞̟̟̠͖̝̭͖̙̫̬̹͖̘̻̮̮̹̦͚͎͓̖̲̫͉̬̙̫̫͕̳̟̬̗͖͉̲̻̟̥͖̠̬̱̪̱̗̻͔͚̲̥͔̦̤̯͙̗͉̜͉͔̖̻̟͇͇̆̽͊͐̆́͆̉́͐̔̀̏̌̑͆̅̉̾͐̾̿͆̅̓͆̓͊͌̀̂͌̀͆̽̐͐̑̂̂̄̈́̉̍̽͊͆̂̒́̑͛̆̊̏̊̀͌̀̋̅͗̐̀̉̾̀̈̀̾̓̊͂͑̒̋̉̈́̍̽̔̅̑͂̀̈́̂̂͛̾̂͒͒̈́͐̒̄͑̂͒̒̂̅́͌̏̔̈́͗̀͐͐̓̈͑̊̑͊̔̓̍͋̓͋̍̒͆̉͂̇̔̆͑̒̐̉̌͆̏̉̌̾͗̉̓̉͊̂̀́̉͛̅̂̓̐̈́̄͐̇̽͆̈́̀͊̎̔̓͗̀̀͊͆́͊͛̊́̈́̌̈́̔̏͑̒̾̒̋̎̀̍̂̎́̎̓̽͌̓͑̑́͊̑̆͒̏̌͒̏̾̂́͋̽̿̀̈̌̽͋͂̇͐̏̌̔͂͛͛͊̅̿̇͆̏̌̀͛̾͒̌̔́̓̎͐͆͆̆͒͘͘͘͘͘̕̚̚̚͘̕̚͘̕͘͘͘̕̕͘͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͠s̷̢̧̧̢̢̢̨̡̢̢̨̢̧̡̢̧̨̨̡̧̨̡̧̡̡̧̡̢̧̨̨̨̢̨̛̛̛̛̘̣̲̣̞̠͉̳̜̜̘̳̟͓̪͚̘͈̗̜̥͇͙̻̰̱̱̞͚̘̰̘͖͈̰̝̣̻̯̬̹̹͎͎̠͔̬̣̤̰̣̰̫̭̞̝̗̠̜͍̣̹̼̤̖̯̮͈̠̰͉̞̫̲̳̤̳̬̹͎̬̙̯̝̝̭̠̯̣̰̞͎͚̝͎͎̝̖͍͚͍̯̥̺̯̭̭̤̲͔͍̳̰̦̤͙̪̯͚͚̟͉̙̮͍̗̠̱̲̯̰̮̣͙̰̖̝͙̟̲̮̭͕̜͕͓̹̰̻̹̫̳̞̳̖̹̤̭͙͚͖̣͖͍͍̟͈̲̭͚̱̦̣͚̞̣̼͈̻̫̗̯̲̬̜̺̩̩̮̝̪̠͖̮̤͙͎̫̜̻̪͇̜͔͂͌͑̏̈́́̍̈̽̒͛̀̒̂̈́̓̎̇͛͛̇́͂́̌̐̽̔͑̈͆̈́̑̎̔͑͌̈́͂̓̋̉͂̇̈̔̋͌́̀̓͗̈̑̉͊͒͒́̀̆̈́̓̎̂͑̃͌̋͆̉͑̈́͗̏̏͑͒́̾̑̔̓̍̀̌̔̐̉̀͑́̑̔̈̐͂̌̈͑̽́͗͑̀̒̅̾̉͊͊̐͋̓̀̅̏̑̒͐̿͌̈́͋̈́͊̈́̂̊̍͌̓̉͆̃͊̓̃͋̏͑̎̔̀͌͗̈́̀̔̆̊̋̇̄̿̄̾͒̓͛͛̿̒͂͌́͗̔́̈́́̈́͊̑̀͋̐̿̒̏̉́͒͊̍͑́̒̀̄̓̀̆͋̑̈́̆͗̍̌̾̈̓͑̏̀̎̋̄̓̌́̌̋̿̍̈́̇́̎̆̒͊́͛͋̇̑̓̑̐̉̈́̊̂̈̓̕̕̚̚̕̕̕̚̕̕͘͘͘̚͘̕̕̚͘̕͘͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅţ̷̨̡̧̨̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͓̙̗̩͈̭̘̗͔̱͇͕̮̼͍͍̩͓̬̰̖̜̘̻̖̙̮̰̙͙̪̼͓͕͓̮̜̫͓̮͈̼͈̥̼̞̬̣̺͎̻̞̫͕͈͚̬̮̻͔̣̥̦̱͚͇͓̪̰̝͔̳̳̰̤̪̯̠̯͖͚̲̯̠̠̩̌̽̽̃̍̏̄̑̋̓͂͑͌̐͌̑̌̾̀̈́̾̌͑̏̿͂̓̈́̀̈̌̈́͌̎͊̓̏̂̂̏͐̂͛̐̆̈̋̈̔̓̾̽̐͐̄̄͆̋͌̍́͆̿̉̓̔́̍͊͊̊̂̏͌̊̓̅͗̅̃̀͐̿́͊͗̾̇̀͐̇͗̌͆͊͗̇̂́̓̎̋̔̈́͊̑̀̃͊̃̋͐̌̑̋͋̓̏̋̉̃̈́̃̂̌͐̋͒͆͌͑͌̅͑͐͆̀͐̉̈́̓̓̉̂͛̀̎̓́̀͐̃́͆̂̄̔͑͌͐͛̔̾̎̑̔͋̍̽̏̒͋͒̊̇̾̀̉̅̒̋̋͂̊͊͗͌̎̽͐͋̔̄͂̔̊͂̈́̍̔̑͒́͆̿́̏́̆̋̔́̈́͋͌̓̏͆͒͑̊̄́̽̔̀̈́̒̈́͆̃́́̚͘̕̕̕͘͘͘̕̚̚͘͘̚̕̕͜͜͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅ ̶̢̨̨̢̧̨̢̡̨̧̨̢̧̡̡̧̡̨̨̡̨̢̧̢̢̧̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͇̘͔̘͇̳͕̙͖̞̞͓̫̩̤̭̹͕͈͓̣̗̱̠̗̩̤̳͔͍̫̺͓̬͕̠̭̫̠͎͎̲̪̞̜͈͙͇̜͉̳͕̭̙̦̱̫̣͈͔̭͉̦̩͕̱̜̖̠͙̮̯͖̠̻̰̫̪͓̦̺͔̪͔̻̭͈̩̭̪̭͎͓͕̳̫͓̳̥̥̙̫̪̫̩̮̲̟͍̰͇͈͎͖͉̪̼̖̖͍̲̰͚͕͇̗̙͕̹̻̖̫͕̫̦͕̭͉͔͎͈̞̱̝̤̺̥̻̟͍͚̙̲̫̤͓͖̬̦̹̗̪̺̩̝̗̗̼̦̞̫̟͇̻̼̼̰̜̼̜̗̟͇͙͉͕̣̺̦̩̤̩̻̩̭̬̰̗̼̱̪͇̝̼̰͇̜͉̫̲͕͕̳̟͙͕͎͎̭͔͙͇̯̙̲̦̮͖͈͖̟̜̖̖̟̤̘͔̤̭̟͕͎͇̺͔̞̯̤̗̣͈̩̺͓͚̤̺̥̫̓̔̈̇̆͌̏̑̂̄̀͊̔̍͊̍̓͌́̒̓̀͊̆̉̑̉͐̐͌͋́̽̓͋͂̐̏́͑̽̈̂́͑͗̋͑̑͑̒̇̌̂̿̑̔̀̍͂̄͊͊̿̊̇̈́̍́͂̒̓̋̑̊̓̾̎̽̉̿̓̐͆̀̍̎̔̀̌͊͑̀̊͐̽͊̽͒̅̒̀͌̔̃̍̿̽͗̉̈́̉̂̔̊̈́̊̈́̽̀͌̏̃̈́̈́̐̄̑̋̿͊͐̐̏́̓̒͗̑́́̓́̇́̑́̊͂͗̂̈́͒̃͒͛̃̆̓̽͆͂̌̋̐͂̔̄̿̅͗͑̈͋̀̌̒̄̈́̏̓̆̋͗̀͑̆̈͆͗͐͒͆̾̓͗̇͒̎̃̿̉̽͌̇̒̐̊̇͌̂͋̒̀̽̒͂̀͐̀̌͐͒̐̓̊̌́͋̈́͋̓̓́͋̄̔̒̃͛̿̂̀̍̎̄̓͑̌͒͒͛̿̅͛̏̚͘̕̕̚̕̕͘̕̚̕̕̕͘̚͘͘̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅń̶̢̨̧̢̧̡̡̡̡̧̧̧̨̡̨̡̢̨̧̡̨̧̡̢̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̙̫̬̖͍̦̲̥̻͈̹͖̩̭͓̩͉̲̠̠̺͕͉͓̹̲̤̩̹̦̖͖̙͇͈͍̟̜͇͚̲̖̥̤͍͚̣̫̮̜̤͖̟̣̩̮̹̦͙̰͓͔͈͉̱̼͖͓̹̮̞̟̖͈̭̦̼̰͇͉̠̱̭͍̭̲̜̼̤̙͇͕͍̜̠̥̰̬͕̹̲̖̹͎̭͎̬̗͇͈̟͈͚̦̬̣͕̩̖̞͔̘̙̪̙̗͎̱͙̪͔̪̤̲̟̼͇͈͍̝̗̣̥̣̫͖̱̫̗͈̹̣̯̠͎̭̞̜̜̮̭̪̩̠̤͍̼̤̣̻̲̝̹͙̝͎̟̦͉̲͎͍̯̟̪̘͉̯̰͎̻͍̥͙͙̥̮̟̹͖͈̬̟͈͉̰̝͍̱̦͓͈͔̥̮̬͖͎̱̱̲̻͉̻̜̤̹̠͉͖͙̠͍̭̬͔̞͈̮̦̹̫̹̘̭̳͚̪̬̦̮̀̽̆̅̓̇̈̀́̀́̐̋̾́͋̋̓̎̇͋̐̈̏̂͆̀̔̏͊͛̓̒̒͌̔̄̃̾̏̎̔̓͐́͛́̅͋͑̊̓̿̀̽͐̿̔́̂͂͛͛̋̓͑̾̀̿̀͐̈́͒͋̂̃͆̿͆̔̅̅̑̎̽̄̏̑̿͋̄̂͌̉̍̾̅͗͊̆̈́͌̿̌̑̋̈́̃̾̐̄̑̐̈́͛̊́͌̈́̈́̓̍͑́͗̈́̐̽͗̓̎̓̔̋̔͂̽̊̓̈́̀̊́͂̀̽̓͗͋̾̏͌͆̉̅̈̇̿̿̒̐̈́̌̓̎͊̈̽̓̉̂̈́͑͒̆̂͌͒̿̈̒̈́̏́͗̏̈̇̇͒́̍̈́͛͂̌̈́̍̀̔̔̉͗̆̑̌͒̃͌͑̀̈́̾̎̏͑̈̑́͛͒̈̚̚̕̕̕̚͘͘̚̕̕̚͘̚̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͠͠͠͠ͅͅͅě̷̛̛͎̘͙̤͍̲͕̋͂͒̋̈́̈́̃̄̄̑̎̍̇͌͌̇̽̔͆̎͊̓̆̓̋̐̃́͑̉̊͒̀͐̅̏̾̉̈́̐̂̀̉̓͌̃͊̓̿̿̈́͆͋̍͑̽̓̂̽̔͌͗͛̊̏̉̈̌̀͛͐̑̔̓͋̀̒̽̇̊̄̀̑̒̚̚͘̕͘̚͘̕͝͝͠͝ͅȩ̷̧̡̢̧̡̧̢̨̧̧̧̢̨̢̢̢̡̨̡̢̧̢̧̧̢̢̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͖̬̭̱̩̙͇̻̼̲͕͍̞̟̘̲̭͙̱͚̳͉͎͉̱̮̠̬̰̟̹̳̻̝͓͓̺͇̣͎͕̗̙͕̟͖̻͕͖̟̲͙͖͎͎̼̤̣͚̫͎̩͉͇̣͎̱̫͎̼̟̘͖͎̘̳͈̞͚̣̬̬̞͕̼͎̠͙̺͉̮̙͚͔͈̗̰̲̥̺̠̥͖̣̲̹̱͖̗̺̝̙͇̣̳͙̫͙̼̖̖̭̱͈̜͈͈͔̫̰̟̹̫̮̩̖̦̺̬̦̥̗̬̤̫͉̟̭̖̰̫̞͓͇͚̻̺͓͔͕̰̞̯͕͇̟̤̟̞̜͓̟̝̣̩̺̤̦̻̼̜͓̣̜̻̦̰͓̤͓̼͍̩̬̬̦̻̺̳̺̱͓̦͚͚͈̠̬͖̳̫̦̻͇̗̮̟͖̩̫͕͈̦̮͇͖͙̹̙̠͍͙̲̮͚̫̼͔̜͔͖̳̙͉̖̭͚̫̙͚͒́̊͛͂͐͆̏̅̍́̽̃͗͊̐͗̈̋́̊̈́̀̾̾̍͂̄̄̒́̃̿͛̏̄̆̒̄̓̃̓̎͌̊́̊͐̓̾̓̆͑̈́̊̀͋̑͑̂̋͊̔̾͌̎̒̈̉͊͊́̈́̓̌̀͆͗̑̉̏͐̍̅̓̀̈͗̆́̊͋̌̒̈́̽̄̈̏͐̒̈́́͛̔̐̀́͌́̒͒̽͆̋͗̈́̑́̌́̎̿͆̋̇̋̈́̍́̓̋̿̒͆͗͌̅̾͌̽̔̑̿̊̑̂͆̂̌̉̊̈͛̀̿͑̃̊͑͋̀̏̓̿͒̓̃͐̌̒̏͊́͆̈̽͆̈́͗̈̃͌̿̔̅͗͐̋̈̈́̒̾͒͒̄̐̇̒͒̆͆̈́̏̆̔̋̒̃̓̑̈́̾͊̐̒̓̔͛̅̃̄̋͊͌̐͒͛̏̆͛̔̐͗͗̉͋͌͐͂̿̍̾̈̌͘͘̕̚͘̕̕̚͘͘͘̕͘̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅd̵̨̨̡̡̧̨̨̡̛̛̛̛̛̛̲̠̩̺̪̫̹̖̹͙̲̬̘̺͚̳͕͈̬͍̤͔͓̭͉̭̬̹̘͉̖̹͍̠̳̫̫͔̪͍̱͚̲͍̾̾͒̈́̊͆̅̌̿͒̏͋̇͂̃̎̎̈́̈̂͐̏̋̋̓͊̏̐́̃̒̃͊̈́̐̅͗͋͋͋́͐̽̎͑̄̀́͒̃͂̈́͂̿̔̆̒̒̄̑̒͋̎̓̽͗̑̅́̇̂̆̅̑͂͌̈͗́͋̅͆̂̈̾̐̃̒̒̽̾̄͂͛͂̀͗̄͌͋̾͐́̈̈̂͒́̏͋̊͌̈̿̎̎͗̎͊̀̂̊̐̃͛̎̔̈́̊͑̉̐͌̍͂͆͐̄́͗̐́̓͗̅̿̅̾̄̍̋͑͆̎̔̆͋̔̊̓̅̈̀̓͐̄͆͐̌͒̃̊̓̌̿̆́̓͛̃̀̇̓̔̃̓̈́̊́̀́̄̊̏̑͗͑̋̏̓͑̾̏͋̃̕̕̚̕̕̚̚̕̚̕͘̚͜͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͠͝͠͠͝͝͠͝͝͝ ̶̧̢̢̧̡̧̧̧̡̡̧̧̨̨̧̡̧̢̢̧̛̛̛̛͎̙͍̭͉̬͖̭̟͚͕̝̺̟̥̻̭̠̦̮͍̘̮͓̩̟̰̬͔͇̫̭̺͙͇̳͓͔̟̗̖̲̫͚͇͓͚͖͙͇̯̠͍̹͓̟̪͔̬̥̰̲͓̭͈̼̠̼̺̪̞̤̗͚̥̟̮̦͎̥͕̗̦͖̬͔̘͓͓̦̹͔͍͕̼̠̱̙̜̜̲̥̤͎̱̪̼̞̗̬̖̙͈̭͖͚͖̣͍̹̲̰͕̬̜̜̗͔̥̱͓̼̺͕̭̘̟̣̫̞̠͖̺̙͇̤̼͎̰̳͎̻̼̼̼͍̘̬̮̝͎̮̱̹̳͓̱̭̲̮̞̺̹̫̙̞̹̖̖̯̦͙̠͔̳̯̥̮͚͇͓͎͚̼̭̻̫̹̹͇̰͔̰̖̺͈͖̗̙͈̭͈̖̣͕̟̭̱̞͙̗͈̀̓́̀̏͗̐͗̑̏͊̈̒̒̀̇́̀́̓͐̈́̑̒̃̏̔̐̓̌̔̋̾̀͒͒̋̈́̾́̍́̓̔͐͛̑̾̍̇̉̅̀̔͐̔̿̉̀́̑̀̐̽̋̃̿̽̎͐͂̿͑̏̃̉̈́̔̀͊̈́̀̿̆́͌̐̽̆̉̀̐̀̓̓̄̇̓̓̔̀̏͆̈́͛͒̿̒̍̏͂̈́̍̋̎̊̅͛̀͐͗͑̍͋̀̿̊̇̃̓̎͗̋̅͌̅̂͑͛̄̆͆́̌̅̅̌͐̈́̽͌̏͐͗̂̋̎̽͛̈́̈͆̿͛͗͆̒͂̂̍̎̈́͗̍̾̀̑͑͋̌͘͘̚̕̚̚̚͘̕͘̕͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅẗ̶̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̖̼̦͉̯͚̦͔̬̠̣̱̩͌̇̋͗̇͒̾̋̉̌̉̈́̏̾͂̑̂̄̉̀̒́̑̆̿͆̌͒̋̉͐͂͗̒̀̾̈̏̌̂̀͋̐̃̑̅̄̍̀̀̎̀̊̑̔̒̈̃͌͌̋̾͛̅͊͋̓͛̓̏͋͗͗̊̈̔̒͐͊̂̓̄̎̐́́̓̀̾̋̓́͐͗̽͌̓̈́̋͐̈́̒͑̋͆͌̈́̃̑̇̓͊̑͑̋̊̋̐̎̈́̔̌̌̂̆͑̎̍̈̂̈́͗͊͛͐̌̅̉̎̑̅͆̓́͆͆͆̈́͌̓̆͛̄̈́̿̍̓̿̓̽̎̋̔̂͌̌͒̊̉́̅́͋͐̍̿͒̍́̽̈́̑͗͒̃̓͛̿̓͗̀̔̒̆̀̊́̄̑͛͋̈́̂̽̐̒̄̑̒̅͛̉̀͐̑̇͂̿̃̑̀͛̍̋̿̑̏̉͋̎̒̔̇̂̚͘͘̚̚̚̚̚͘̚͘̕̕͘̚͘͘̕͜͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅờ̷̡̨̧̢̡̢̨̻̳̩̝̙͖͙̣̯̘̰̭͈̯̱̞̭͓̞͖̲̜͎̜̼̹̺̙͚͈͚̻͓͇̝͔̼̜̟̟͎̼̱̲̻̥̻̺̻̰̟͎̩͔̫̞̗̳̬̗̙̙͖̙̜̠̰̫̠͍͙͙͔̳͇̹͍̩̪̰̺̺̙̺̓͗̿̀̽͆́̿̑̂̆̋͗͒̓́̈́̾̒͑͊̆͐̆̋̓͊̓̊͑̓̈́͂́̈̋͛̓̽̉̒̅͒͗̏̆̀́̃̍͆̕͘̚͜͜͠͝͠͝ͅ ̷̢̨̡̨̧̡̢̛̛̗̪̙̠̹͇̳̩̙̖̥̣̙̮͈̼̺̳̝̦͕͚̼͍̣̺̦͙̣̠̹̦͇̱̦͇̱̳̘͍͉̜̙̼̪̘̖̺̬̥͇̳̗̠͓̰̤͉̲̮̯̤̙͈͕̞̬̬͇͓͍̱̝̼̻̙͙̳̲̜̦̲̫̰̞͎̟͖͙̠͓͖̞͉̺͚͖͈̺̯͓̱̹̻͔̭͙̼̜̰̘̭̤̼͎̮̠̻͓̬͉̫̖͉̅̇̒̍̏̊̌͛̐̈́̐̃̿͊́̍̿͌̿̾͗̄̅̍̀̊͊̊͋̎̑̆̈́̋̉̂̓̉̐͊̄̎͐̾̑̐́̈̔̉̿̔̽͂̂̔͋͆̒͛̄͒́̎͛̔̾̽͂̎́̉̉́̑̊͋̽͛̈́͌̄̊̏̆̍̂͂̐́̈́̏̀̈́̔̎̑̾̀̀͌̾̅̂̉̌̾̍̕̕̕͘̚̚̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͠͠ͅͅͅf̶̢̨̡̧̧̨̡̡̡̨̢̢̢̨̨̢̡̨̨̨̛̛̛̛̯̟͔̖͇̘͈̣̣͔͚͎͉̰͎̯͙͖͖̘̤̼͇̰̥̲̙̜̱̳͇̭͇͍̻͇͇̼̱̜͎̳͖̘̪̤̻̻̯͖̬͓̠̮̫͔͖̻̭͎̳͕͙̱͚̼̖̬̻͉͈͙̫̪̰̼̝͓̗̳͖̹͓̞̠̝̜̙̲̭̰̳͔̮̦̳͇̦̟̬̹͈͍̠̹̱̠̭̺̟͕̗̺̙̜̳͕̲̱͖̟̜͒̓̓̽̄̈́̓̓͐́̄̽̔̑̍̽̿͋̀͛͂̀̐͆̈̊͋̂̃̋̑͌̓̍̃̈́̓͊̀̾̍̽̈́̍̒̀̀̅͒̂͛͌͊̆̌̒̎͛̍̆̅͐̒͑͑̏̌̎̾͐̉̈́̈̈̊͌͌̃̈́̈́̍͊̌͑͐̏̄͊͗͌̈́̈́̇̌͂̅́͒̎͒̽̌̽͗̃̽̌͌͋̉͒͒͐̔̈́͒̋͐̓̈̄̃͆̐̍̀̉̅͌͒͗̏̒̊́͐̇͋̄͒͘̕̕̕͘͘̚̕͜͜͠͝͝͠͠͠͝͝ͅͅį̵̢̧̨̢̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̦̫̜̩̞̻̠̻̩̘̲̘̭̮̜̘͓̤̞̯͈̱̭̼̝̜̩͔͖̫̘̬͕͚̘̘͙̘̦͇̯̄́́̐̃̋̈́̀̒͛̈́̇͆́̍̿̌̓̋̽̑̆͋̎͛̎̐̄̀́̔̇̓̈́̉̑̾̒̋̔͗̒͛͌̈́̃͛̇̇̈̽͋͛̋͌͗̌̍̆͌͐́͑̎͆̿̈́̾̈͛̐̆͛͐͂́͊̽̈́͌̈́͂̈́͑̄̆̐͂͊̀̀̆̈̍̀͛́̐̾̈́̾̊͑̊͛̽͂̑̅̋̽͆̽̏̆̈́͗̿̅̔̀̎́̉͋́́̀̀͊͆̓͑̉̐͗͐͑͂̈́̌̄́̿͑̌̏̃̾̍̀̌͑̌̈́͒̇̃͆͗͑͂̍́̾̎̀̈́͐̀́̅̆̓̐̈̿́̊̀̆̎̽̓̓̇̈́̎̽͘̚̚̕͘̕̚̚̕̚͘̕̕͜͜͝͝͝͠͠͠͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅn̸̨̨̨̨̡̡̡̨̢̨̛̛̛̪͔̭̲̹̬̰̹̠̘̱̫̥̤̻̭͍͓̭͚̼̰̘̫̲̼͚̝̱͉̻̰̼̤̥̩̹͍̩͓͚͓͖̼͙͎̗̞̺̙̗̜̟͚͙̲̩̪̤̖̫̱͇͚̠̝̖̩̞̰̜͔̮̰̠̘̘͉͕̖͓̙͍̻͍̭̟̘̿̉̂̑͐̂̿͋̈͒̂͛̅̇̈́̀͛̆̌̓͛̈́̍͌̓͌͐́̾͑́̌̒̆͒̓̓̉̂̿͗̐̋̒̆̄̑͑̾̓̊̐̾̋̋̎̈̌̐̓͐̏̑̏̀͋̀̓̇̂̍̊́͊̾̾̇̇́͆̓́̄̊̋̑̏̎̔͗̈́̅̉́̔͑̂͌̈́͌̆͂͊̊͐́͐̉̅̉̽̈́̒͆̍͊̒̍̀̈͗̋̔̊̓͌͗̈́̃̌̈̇̄̈́̾͋̈́͊̾͛́̑͒̊͆̽̐̂̑̽̿̀̀͆̉͑̓̂̍͂͗̆͆͛́̋͒̂̽̔͐̓͋̐͆̀̆̓͆̈́̍̒̈́́̀̾̃̅̈́̔͊̕͘̕̕͘̚̕̕̕̕̕͘͜͜͠͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͠ͅͅͅd̸̨̨̧̡̧̨̡̢̢̨̢̧̢̡̡̛̛̛̹͖͉̠̥̲̬̩̙͈͎͎̫͉̘̜̖̟̣̮̲̲̦̱͚̰̻̘̞̣̼̞͈̻̭̣͈̟̪͉̗̮̠̲̘̰̪̤̮̦̻͇̻̮͓͈̯̱̞͎̣̱͎͚͉̹̼̬̟͓͓̞̟͙̼̞̻̘̩̩̻̜̗̞͙̳̹̮͉͇̝̮͍̯̟̣̰̹̬̝̪̩̼͔̗̭͙̜͔͓͈̜͙͍͈̱̻͖̭̼͎̫̮͕̺̆̑́̒̂̄̈́̒̾̽̂̔̑̔̈́͛̊̋̊̏̔̍̌̓͒̈́̾͌̄̐̑̄̾̂͑̌̈́͑͊̽͋̌̉̃̍̆́̈̈́͌͌̀̌͂͐̏̾͗͑́͑͋͆̓̾̐̓̍̊̑̏̅̋̈́̇̇̇̿̃́̎̇̆̊́̇̑̉̐̿̋́͆̏̆̈́̾̈̕͘̕̚̚͘̚͘̕͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅ ̵̨̧̢̧̢̛̣͍͙̥̘͓̠͓̪̝̖̗̹̤̳̳̺͙̭̫̻͔̘͖̱̳͚̪͈̜̪̖̺̮̹̭͎̞̜͓̮̤̟̞̳̭̞̫̹̘̹̖͙̞͙̮̺͊̅̃͌́͋̾͐́̑̾̇͂̑̈́͂́̈́͛̎͐́͒́͒̐͒́̊̎͒̀̂̾͆̀̇́̀̏̑͌̊̐͂̈́̏̍̒̅̂̈́̓̓͂̒̽͛̉͋̆͗́͑́̔͐̀̕̚͘̕̚̕͘͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͠t̸̡̨̢̡̨̧̢̧̢̢̢̨̧̧̧̡̢̢̢̢̡̧̢̢̢̛̛̛̛̛̛̪͔͇̺̝̲̺͙̣̯̜̻̮̞̟͈̭̰̻̣̝̝̣̲̺̣͎̫̦͍͎̝̠̥̘̥̼̜̫̦͍̼̟̘̯̟̰̦̠̲̳͎̘̲̥̙̺̦̝͕̬̜̳̦͚̬͎̖̥̬̗̫̙̫̖̝̦̘̪͔̖̗̜̤̝̙̺̯̼̳̰͍̖͓̼̙̤̰̬̺̲̫̞̙̫̱͎͎̗͕͚͙̫̳̘̯̜̲͚̹̰̮͓̤͖͕̦̤̣̦͖͙̪͖̫͖̤̣̮̰̞̺͇̯̙̮͔̰̫̲͚͙͖̼̬͇͈̥̦̭͎̭̝͔̞̹̹̺̞̬̩͇͓͈̯͕̼͈̩͙̳͇̲̝̖͉̙̫̪̭͖̥͓̻͓̺͈̣͇͍̣̙͍̝̥̹͔̘̦͈͎͇̪̟̯̲͓͇͔̼̠̗̹͎̪̪̙̰̗͔̘͈̪͍̰̟̩͈̣̖̯̤̮̞̲̳̪͚͎͚̖̱̞͈̹̄̇͌͛̐̒̉̄̆̆̑̄̓͒̍̏̉̂̐͂͗̍̎͐͂̏͒̈̆͒̾̔̈̂͋̏̈͋͛̊̊̅͂̿̊̂̽̍̇̀̿̓̏̾̄͒̌̈́̀͊͊̉̎͗͛͒̉͒͌̓̊̒͒̾̌̀͋̌̐̃͋̑̆͛̃̿̀̓͋́͌͗͐͆͊̂͑͌͂̂́̅͆̐͌̈̓͆̈́͆̃̕͘̕͘̚͘̚̚͘͘͘̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͠͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅḩ̴̡̨̡̡̡̡̢̢̛̛̛̰̯̱̜͓͓͕̖̩̰̞̤̦̦̜̗̺̣̫͕͉̥̳̥̫̼̹̜̫̞̱̝͔̹͔͙͙̦̖͓̪̖͈̪̣̩̲̗͇̣̞̞͎̤̜̭̘͔͓̤̺͎̘̣̘̪͙̯͕̦̦͇͙͍͈͚̫̗̪̫̫̗̖͙͙̪̳͚̟̤͈̬͙̰̯͉͕̟̗͈͓̩̹̺̹̣͎͔̩̯̫̮̗͔̲̱͔̰̦̳͖͙̗̪͈̬̯̊̒͌̀̒͑͊̊́̊̇̎̾͑̀̈́͊̊͊̏̂͗̀̎̐̉̿͆̅͛̀́̾̿̅́̑̀̀̏̌͆̾̌͋̀̃͋̇̇̽̆̍̎̀̂̾̂̄̓͂̎̇̐̏̔͊͌̓͋͒́̌̀̅̉̂̏̇̑̑̏̀͊̏̋́̀́̒͆̊̾̃̆̾͋̍̓̂͂͆̊͑̊̈̉͗͑̈̔̿̂́̈́͊͛̒̏͒̊̐̿̄̎̉̑̑̍͋̑͑̄̉̄̈́̈́̃͂̎̔̇͛̽͒̈́̂͐̎̔̏̔͂̐̒̓͗̀̈̌͑̆̐̅́͌̅̎́̏̀͒̊̓̇̈́̈̄̌̆̌͊͗͂͛̽̉̈́̌̑͐̓̽̊̿̈̒̈́̄̿̊̓̏̀͆͘̚̚̕͘̚̚̕̕̕͘̕̚͘͘͘̕̚͘̕̚̚͜͜͜͠͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͠ͅͅͅͅͅę̶̢̨̢̧̢̧̧̧̢̢̢̨̛͇̬̲̗̖̙̫̪͈̘̰̙̲̼͎̯̣̯̯̦͇͚̰̪̦͉͓͓͕̥͚͇͙̠̘̝̙͈̠̹͎̖̻͔̼̜̳̤̦̫̘̭̘͍̹̩̗̗͖̫̮͙̺̹͚͕̫͎̪̪̫͇̺̱͚͚̝͖̝͇͍͕͕͍̻̖̪̣͓̜̬̞͔̹̪̟̤̹̭͎̻̥̙̬̼̗̫͚̘̬͚̥͚̯̬̩̜̤̠͔̱̙̯̭͖̣̻̳̫̫̺͕̲͎̜̼̻̮͔̦̺̭̱͖̬̟͚̗͙͕͈̝͈̯͔͎͉̳̭͔̗͎͓̹̫̖̜͚͉̯̻̦͚͚̫̫̈̐̿̋͛̔̉͛̏̋̀͛́̑̈́̀̈́̈̊̉̐͊̀̀̂͋̽̔̽̈́̈́̎͒̐̈́͆͑̽̃͊̐̈́̒̌̓̀̋̈́͛̐͊̏̀̆̐̅̈́̀̐͗̌͆͗̇͂̑̏̏͋̇̋̈́͂̔̅̅͌̔̇̓͛̎͒͑̈͋̒͋̀̈́̒̓͐̀̐̐͌̌̆̓̈́̃̉̕͘̕̚͘͘̕͘͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅ ̸̢̧̢̨̧̧̡̡̨̡̡̧̢̨̡̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̺͈̬̘͚͈̹͈̫̩̳̪̗̭̬̝̠̖̰̱͚̞͇̯̰̩͓͚̝̪̠̗̻͕̰̤̺̖͈̤̠͚̲͔̻͖̭͚̥̼̮͎̩̬̩̠̲̹͎̬̲͖͓̝͓̪͚̜̰̦͕̭̯̱̘͕͓͉̲̟̟̝̤̦̯͇̲̺͖̺̹͖͖̤̣̮͍̤̦͓̩̮͎̘͇̜͈̬̹͍̗̤͙̰̠̞̲̖̖̘͓̺̺͖̰̞̲̟͎̻̭̹̤̜͚̞͇͇̫̩͚̬̙̤͖̞̙͖̦̣̝̗̺͕̹͍̺̮̗̥̭̞̺̤̤͕̭̱̭͇͉̤̱̼̱͔͉̞̩̲̪͉̲̲̦̭̳̪̭͇̘͍̭̮̭͉̥͙̖͎̞̠̜̹͈͂̿̌̓̔̽̿̓͆̉̍̒̄̓̍̃̂͒͂̏̊͆̈́̉̄͑̒́͊̓̅̄͊͌͗́̽̿̃̂̌̓̓̾͑͒͋̂̌͂̇̽̂͛̅̽̈́͆͆̑̀͂̎̒̽͆̑́̀̈́̋̈́̆̇͌̆͐͗̃̋̆̄͊̐̉̐̈́͌́͋͑̍͐͛̉̌̾̋̏͛̊͌̓̈́̓̓͆͂̃́́̓̅͐͊̉̈́͆̒̃̔͋̅͛̆̄̉̐͌̀̏͗̄͗̾͂̾̀͌̉̅̏̆͑̊͌͗̐̔͆͐̽̽̑͆̔̈́͒̏̀͂́̍̈́͂̎̀̿̂̿͂̓̈́̐̊́͐́̇̆̓̈͋̌̊͒͊́̎͗̒̆̑̓̽̈́̓̀̾͐̾̀́̓̒͐́̋̈́̓̔̏̍͛͘͘̕͘̚̕̕̚̚͘̚̚͘͜͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅã̷̢̢̨̢̢̡̢̛̛̛̛̛̛̻͉̖̞͕͖̯̞͓̮̫̭̻͚̙̜̭̗̹͇̗̖̝̤̞̗̲̻̣̝̭͔̱̺̱̦̣̗͔̪͚͉͖̩̪͚̯̟̀̽͋͂̓̑͒̌̌̈͊̅͆̍͌͌̋̈́̒̏͑̂̓̿͒̄̋̇̔̆̈́̾̉͆̉͛́̀̄͒̆͂͊͗̃͛̊̾͐̓͂͒̅̉̔͋̅͋̅̃̾͌͊͌̏͑̂̀̄̉̐̑͆̒̉̉̈́̍̔̏͊̓̓͑̿͆͌͂́͑͊̆̈́͂̆̍́̔̐̈̍͐̄͗͐͌͌̂̿̊͗̌̽̍̀̅̾̓̓́͆̓͗͆͂̆̍̈́̀͂͛͒͗̓͒͛̓̎̏̓̑́̋̀̈́̍͌͊̈̏̍͐͌̏̎̄̐͋͆̆̃̒͊́̌̕̚͘̕͘̕̕͘̕̕̚͘͘͘̚̚͘͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͝n̴̢̨̨̧̨̧̧̨̡̨̨̡̧̨̧̡̧̨̧̡̡͚̳̲͎̖̟̹̘̝͇̭͍̫͎̖̠̪͔̭̜͍͙̗͖̦̰̫̭̭̫̳̣̺̹̟̬̘̭̰̯̥̦̯̻̳͕̻̣͇̖̱̞̳̖̰̣̣̩͙̞̦̖͚̹͈̰͙̭̤̭̹̗̱̪̠̺̳͇̭̲͈͚̤͍̬̙̖̘̞̤̹͇̤̦̥̟̺̖̳͔̳̲̱͓͎̞̲̞̥̜̟̼̦͔̗̱̲̬̺̦̮͚̹̭̠̱͕̻̱̖͖͓̞͉̗̦̲͓̱͔̻̭͕͍̤͉̳̔̇̆̿͆͋̓̃͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅǫ̵̨̨̢̢̢̧̡̧̢̡̨̢̨̢̢̨̢̢̧̛̛̛̛̖̱̹̖͇̲̭̰̫̼̟̻̦̣̼̙̱̤̝̱̪͕̜̙̫̦̰͇̝̲͈̭̮̝̝͈̱͓͉̤̯̬̙̭̙̟͕̠̘̫̝̬̰̞̬̟̙̭̺̰̮͙̲̬͖̙̱̪̦͔̮̗̩̼̳͉͔̗̼̬̫͇̳̦͕̮̯͈͙͔̰̳̜͍̮̞͈̲̩̩̯̹̦̯̱̥̥̣̙̖̰̗̝͍̭͙͚̰͕̟̥͍͔͓̖͓̳̞̟̹̜̳̲̗̟̳͉̥̤̹̳̘̰̼͕͎̖̱̦͓͍̙̲͓̗̦̱͕̝̖̙̝̪̤͉͕̟͙̭͇͍͉̟̫̥̝͍͚̥̖͓̺̘̗̭̪̣̗͕̥͓͈̳̞̻̝͍̝͉͎̺͉̟̩̬̮͙̥̜̜̬̉̊̿̾͋̏͋̄̄̒̊̏͌̔̏́̽̊́̇̏̒́̆̄̂́̃̽̔̋̐͌̉̂͆̎̋̎̇̆̉̈́̽̓͒͗̔̋̓͐̅͐̌͂̒̿̊̌͆́̀͒̐̇͗̀̆̈́͑̾̀̋̍͗͊́͗́̊̓͆̉͑̾̌̌̀̆͛̈́̊̾͐͊͋͊̔̊̓̎͑̐͂̄̾́̌́̀́̇̈̏̓̔̿̐̒́͛́͛͗͐̄̎͌̆̅̂͒́̄̽͛̉͊̒̏́̈̀͗̅́̃̓̒̓̒̐̇̓̃̕͘̚͘͘̕̚̕̕͘͘̕͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅm̶̭͚͚͉̦̹͖̳̲̲̲͚̹̬̑͛͂̿̅̍̈͊̌̔̃̊͐́̿͆̋̊̌̉̎̈́͌̈̎͆̋̃̎̀̀̈́͆͛́̃̐̆̃̌́͒̉̎̇̂͌̍̊͐̄̿̈́̌̐͂̓͒̀̋̑̿̒̇̊̇̈́̀̈́̀͒̃̀͌͗̌̽̈͆̂̓͛͂̕̚͘͘͘̕̚͠͠͝͝͠͝a̷̧̨̡̡̡̹͇͙̪͙̙̖̼̩̥̞̻͈̱̖̰̙̠̞̠͔̰̙͈͉̝̥͈̝̙̱̟̳̤̗̝̹̹̰̥͚̞͎̙̺͇̩̳̘̝͙̖͈͖̥̟̻̫̞̬̱͕͔̗̥̯̳̼̹͙̤͍̦̔̉͌̂̈́̾̊̂̂̿̌͑̊̉͌̿̓̒̌̔̉͌̍̓̆̑̇͊̆̆̈̌̒͐̚̚͜͝͠͝ͅͅl̴̡̨̢̨̡̨̨̧̨̧̨̧̧̡̧̡̢̢̧̧̢̨̨̨̡̢̨̡̧̧̢̛̛͚̲̲̬̻̞͇͓̲͍̣͖̪̳̳̥͍̼͍̪̟̝̜̭̲̺͈̜̭͎͖̹̣̰͎̼̖̯̠̮̳̩̮͈̟̹̼͍̠̗̹̱̙͎̱͍͚͈̤̥̣̜͚̝̪̯̯̣͕̻̖̺̜̦͚͍̖̦͙̺͖̺̹̰̹͓͔̳̘͇̦̥̳͇͓̬̲̘̻̖̲̜̱͇͓͇̜̻̳̪͙̠̦̥̺͈̞̯̝̳̣͎̪̲̦̭̯̞̩̼̥̤͍̖̫̘̼̲̘̟̤̹̺̣̫̳̝̞̳̙̫̫͎̳̣̻̲̠̘̼͙̭̯̫̙̞̻̠̗̙̘̼̺̰̹̦̩̗̫̬͇͓͚̖̩̼̟̺͚̫̭͇̳͕̬͓͈̤̙̝͕̥̥̱͓̙̱̯͔͇̭͇̲̬͚̣̹̻͍̱̮͈̜͈̬̳͕̤̬̠̺͔͍͎͓̜̹̳͈̔̄͋̿̿̀̔̋͂̅́̓̔̔̎̈́̑̊͂͌̑̾̔̒͐̀̂̊͒̽̀̿̉̾́͆̓̊̓̐̊̇̽̀̾̔͗̀͂́͋͐̂̆̀͋̏̔̃̒͐̂̊̌͐́̈́̋̂̽̿͒͗̿̂́̓͒͐̿͋͌͛̾̎̄̾̔͌͛͗̒̅̈̑̇̊̓̅̂̇̋̒̑̀̈́̐͛̅͗̈́͂͊̾̀͒͋̀̔̃̈̅͌͗̏͌̑͂̀̍́̒̍̐̾̊̃̅͑̃̎̒͑͛̐̋͒́̇̎͆̚͘̚͘̚͘̕͘̚͜͜͜͠͠͝͠͠͝͠͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅy̵̨̡̢̧̧̢̨̧̡̡̧̧̨̨̨̡̡̧̢̧̧̨̡̧̢̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̯̥̳͍͕̜̥͙̘̹̟̭̳̠͉͙͍̫̻͙̩̭̳̘̪͖͉͕͖̥̼̺̩̘̜͎͔̪̟̤̠̩̙͖̖̟̹͔͙̟̤̼̠̲͇̙͓͎̯̹͉̞̝̲͕̱̳̘̲̼̱̩̯̥̻̼͚̭͔̭̳̗͓͔͈̰͕͖̻͕͔͔͉̜̺̞͚̤̜͔̣̜͈̩̟͕͔͙̘͈͖̩̼̮͙͇͎͓̯̮̠̫͇̙̜̙̪̥̜͕̮̩͚͕̫̥͕̖̺̖͈͎̝̩̤͇̟̥̹̖͚͚̙͇̲̮̳͇̗̪̮͎̯̗̠͇̻͍̭̺͓̥̼͉̙̺̺̲̜͍̙̝̭̻̘̹͍̭̤͕̙̳̫̰͈͎͈̹͉͚̬̘̪̤͙̗̱̜̰̖̗̗̘̓̆̅̔͆̈́̾̿̂̂̑̊̍̆͂͑̑͊̐̑͌̈́̈́̇̓̐͛̿̀̾̀͂̃̈́͌̓̓̄͒̀̿̅́̈́̀̊̎̉̐̍̓̓̉̈́̾̂͒͋̊͛͊͑̋̈̐̒̿̈̃̏́̔̄̊̓͂̇̀̊̈́̊̏̀̉͗̉̈̈́̊́͂̿͗́̄̊̔̓̈́̐͂̇͗̓̓̇̀̾́̈́̒̀̔̈́̿̈͌̋̾̐̈́̇̋̓̐͑͊̃̿̓̓́̊̈́̉̓̊̋̀̂̀̌̾̒̑̂̽̂̒̒̃̌͊͐̐̀̏̒̎̏͑͆̇̅͒̓̉̉͐͌̔̐̏̃̊̇́͊̏̽͂̋̄̄̀͗̒̒̏̎̇̑̀͌͆̏͛̊͊͛̐̀͌̎͑̅̌̎̈́͗̓͋̐̀̈̑͂̃̆̽͂͗̋̕̕̚̕͘̚͘̕̕͘̕̕̕̕̚̕͘͘̚͘̚̚͘̕͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅ...
Free me from these chains of darkness
and shine a light onto my gut-wrenched heart
clobbered into a ball of loneliness and foreshadowing
my future dusty shelf
filled with all the bonds that I've broken
and this light will finally reach the end
of this obstructed tunnel
free me from this never-ending spiral
deeper and deeper into this dreadful womb
the wounds on my beloved body
like knives drenched in some cold-hearted fear
shattering the glass wall that separates me from
whatever beings that are walking in the outside world
crawling up my scrawny limbs
wiggling into the orifices of my ear
as the blood of sorrow tearfully leaks out
of my demonic eyes
slithering on the gravelly floor
as if chasing a shadow filled with hope
yet I will never belong in that fearful place
like the birds of heaven gliding through
the sea-blue skies of invisible clouds
as I scream with a spirit of defeat
"I can't do this anymore!"
"I can't do this anymore!"
"every day I suffer, will anything ever change?"
the scars of love root me into the soil
like an earthly tree of mother nature
nurturing me into a human of humans
as if I was a wild ape of regret
but what will this world say to me
when they witness the mind of a fragile self
weak, miserable
like a clawless sloth sleeping all day
on a branch made of sand
lifting itself up onto the thick air
slowly choking on the scent of wisdom
as the stuttered words leave its mangled lips
like the musical notes of peace radiating from the
forever-looping week
where I am drunk from time dilation
a peephole to a mind
lost in time
as I slowly walk away
you stop to hold my hand
and talk to me
and talk to me
and talk to me


and there is nothing I can do
but release all this tension
these emotions
and as I kneel and beg for forgiveness
all my pains
flow away into the deep blue sea of love
onto an island
far far away

never to be seen again.
I just have to look a little closer...

The Paradigm Shift

A tourist steps into the office
wearing a loose buttoned shirt, untucked
adorned with a field of pixelated flowers
red, blue, yellow, and a slight hint of orange
matching the vibrancy of the unwashed shorts
splattered with a paint of butterflies
playfully dancing through the imaginary sparkles
emanating from the tourist's sharp eyes
forever fixated at a certain invisible point
millions of miles from where the tourist is standing
yet always perfectly level to the tourist's pupils
a certain somewhere, far from my goals
too perilous, too foreboding the path will be
if I were to walk along it
but how would I know?
I've never taken the first step
all these while, always putting a little too much thought
regarding the opinions of others
however oblivious, however obnoxious
and twist them to be a mold of my own young mind
a skewed perspective of the harshness of reality
a lack of understanding of what makes the world
a habitat that I deserve to take shelter in

I stand behind the tourist
perfectly shadowed from the blinding light
of the office draped in white
I listen to the tourist speak
wise words to the source of light
"Life is a neverending cycle
we wake up, we work, we go back home, we sleep
and everything falls apart as we fall asleep
tomorrow, and every tomorrow after tomorrow
everything rises again as we rise awake
but what if
I'm not saying it will happen, but just what if
one day when we rise awake
we see that everything is at stake?"

The tourist sheds off their skin
the hard, restrictive exoskeleton
a hope for humanity
exhibited so blatantly on the office floor
carpeted in purple, like a pile of beautiful dust
shimmering through the skies
never ending their lies

The tourist holds my hand
and brings me on a stress-free walk
through a man-made garden in the office
on the twenty-fifth floor of a sustainable building
built by the bruised hands of an underwater person
struggling to earn a few cents
for their yearly salary
to raise a broken family of five children
who all dream of running away
from their abusive parents
their belt-whipping hands
pour scalding water onto the fish-heads
of their bastard children
stabbing their cat-eyes with lit cigarette butts
smacking their horse-lips with cracked frying pans
while preaching great words of advice
"The world is so damn cruel, my babies
I want to kill all of you
so that you do not need to face the horrors
of building a man-made garden in the office."

The garden resembles a rainbow through the white clouds
and tiny specks of beautiful dust form the leaves
red, yellow, pink, purple
perhaps more purple than any color
as if the pitch black of outer space
has emitted the world's tiniest ray of light
the light that shines hope onto the people
and exposes, in broad daylight
all of their true selves
that the people of the world are all artists
worthy of a golden monument
containing all of their lives' sufferings
being exhibited so proudly in front of me
as I stare at the top of the monument
a fish-head with eyes gazing at me
as if I am the most beautiful being in the universe
as if I am a light machine
saving myself from a certain death of despair
ridding myself of hopelessness
and rising above the clouds, to become a tourist
in a country of interstellar dust
and I immediately realize
no, not just realize
a paradigm shift
that we are all just interstellar dust
from a bright star that has just exploded
or are we going to be that very bright star
there are two ways of seeing everything
who we are right now
our very weak hearts, on the verge of giving up
could soon become a green planet
sustaining the wonderful lives of the underwater people
yet this is just a dream
seemingly unrealistic, far too optimistic
but a dream is only a real dream
if we are tourists in the ideal future world
crafted by our most ambitious imagination

I simply cannot give up

For the sake of a different future
I will brace this hellish fate
break through the curse that defined me
and rise to the very top
for my dream is simple
I want to be a light machine
emanating rays of hope
along all the right paths of life
inspiring others to seek their inner beauty

Now I see
the experience of being in despair
of having lost all hope in success
of having nothing to lose
this is the anomaly
the fear that is crawling underneath my unblemished skin
this is what I need
to disrupt my perfect life
as now, what I see
is that there is nowhere else to go
but up
ascend the heavenly mountains
break through the atmospheric ceiling
and become one with the brightest star

Now, watch me shine.