NEUROFABULOUS Emojis & Text

Anonymous asked: autism culture is trying to isolate yourself because you're getting overstimulated but people keep coming in to talk to you and then get mad when you lash out. like omg im TRYING to "calm down" just give me a minute

Karen had always loved her husband Plankton. His mind was a bastion of order in a world that often seemed too noisy and chaotic for him. Plankton had a way of seeing patterns and connections that she never could. He'd spend hours meticulously categorizing his collections. It was his way of making sense of the world, a comforting rhythm she learned to appreciate. But today was one of those days where Plankton's brain seemed to betray him. It was a silent, unassuming morning until Plankton froze. His eye glazes over, and his body stiffened like a plank. Karen's heart skipped a beat, knowing all too well what was happening. Her mind raced as she quickly took action. She guided him to the safe spot they'd designated for these moments, a corner padded with cushions and devoid of sharp edges. His body began to convulse, a symphony of uncontrolled movements that didn't match the calmness of the surroundings. She felt her own heart race, her palms sweating, but she knew she had to be his rock, his anchor. Suddenly his friend Sponge Bob came in; he's never seen nor heard of Plankton like this before. "What's happening to him?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice quivering with concern. Karen took a deep breath. "He has autistic seizures," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's like his brain gets overwhelmed with stimuli, and it just... short-circuits." SpongeBob's eyes widened beyond belief, taking in the scene before him. Plankton's tiny frame jerked and tremored. It was a stark contrast to the precise, orderly Plankton he knew. "Is he okay?" Sponge Bob stammered, his hands waving in the air, unsure what to do. "Just stay calm," Karen instructed, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "These usually pass quickly. I need to make sure he doesn't hurt himself." She moved swiftly, carefully placing pillows under his head. Sponge Bob nodded, his concern growing as he watched his friend suffer. He wished he could do something, anything to help. "Can I talk to him?" he asked tentatively, his thumbs tucked into his pants, fidgeting. "It's better to let him be," Karen advised gently. "He can't process much during this. But once it's over, you can." When Plankton's convulsions finally ceased, his body limp, and his eye flutters closed. Karen checked his pulse, sighing in relief when she found it steady and strong. She looked up at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of worry and fatigue. "Just be there for him when he wakes up," Karen said. "He'll be disoriented. He might not understand what happened." Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for Plankton, trapped in his own mind during these episodes. As Karen tended to Plankton, Sponge Bob felt a surge of curiosity. With a newfound determination, Sponge Bob turned to Karen, his eyes brimming with hope. "Could he maybe like... can he understand me now?" Karen looked at Plankton, still twitching, but clearly drained. She nodded slowly. "He can hear you. Just keep it simple and soothing." Sponge Bob approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on his friend. He knelt down and took Plankton's hand in his spongy grip. "Plankton," he whispered, "It's me, Sponge Bob. You're safe now." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, a hint of recognition flickering across his face. Karen offered Sponge Bob a small, grateful smile. She knew how much Plankton valued his friendship. Sponge Bob cleared his throat, his words gentle and measured. "Remember when we played catch with jellyfish?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the best at catching them, Plankton. Your reflexes are so fast, it's like you're a jellyfish ninja." Karen smiles. Plankton's eye is open, but unfocused, as if looking through Sponge Bob instead of at him. His pupil is dilated, and his gaze is distant. Sponge Bob's heart swells with a mix of hope and concern. "Plankton?" he calls again, a little louder this time. No response, just the slightest twitch. He's there, but not really. Karen watches closely, a silent guardian making sure her husband doesn't slip back into the chaos that had consumed him. The room feels eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual symphony of sounds that filled their lives. Karen's eyes are filled with love and fear, a potent mix that's all too familiar. She's seen this before, Plankton's mind retreating into itself when the world becomes too much. Sponge Bob squeezes Plankton's hand, trying to ground him in reality, but his friend's hand is cold and limp. "You know, Plankton," he starts again, his voice quivering slightly, "you're like a tiny superhero with a giant brain. Nothing gets past you." Then, as if a switch was flipped, Plankton's body starts to jerk again, but this time, the movements aren't the violent convulsions of a seizure. They're smaller, faster - tics. His head tilts quickly. Karen's eyes narrow slightly as she recognizes the signs. This was a common aftermath of his seizures, his brain's way of recalibrating itself. "It's okay," she soothes, her voice a gentle melody that pierced through the tension. "Just ride it out." Karen's eyes never leave his, her gaze a silent promise of protection and patience. She knew these tics were a part of his autism, a way for his body to cope with the overwhelming input. It was as if the world was too loud for him, and his body had found its own rhythm to try to drown out the noise. The tics grew more frequent, his head jerking in quick, spasmodic movements. Sponge Bob's grip tightens on his hand, his own heart racing. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew his friend needed him now more than ever. Karen's voice remained soothing, a constant in the storm of Plankton's neurological maelstrom. "It's okay," she said softly. "Let it happen." Sponge Bob watched, his eyes wide with concern. He'd never seen his friend like this before. The tics grew in intensity, Plankton's head snapping to a nod, his limbs twitching erratically. It was like watching a tiny, trapped bird, desperately trying to find its way out of a cage made of its own nervous system. "It's okay," Karen repeated, her voice a beacon of calm in the chaos. "These are just his tics. They're part of his autism. It's his brain's way of adjusting after a seizure." Sponge Bob nodded, trying to absorb the information. He'd known Plankton for years but had never known or seen him like this. Then Plankton's eye focused on Sponge Bob. A flicker of recognition sparked in the depths. "Sp...Sponge Bob?" he stuttered, his voice weak and tremulous. Sponge Bob's smile grew wider, relieved to hear his friend's voice. "Hey, buddy," he said. Plankton's head continued to twitch in a nodding motion, his eye blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on Sponge Bob's face. The tics were less intense now, but they were still present, a subtle reminder of the storm that had raged within him moments ago. Karen knew that this was the part where he'd start to come back to them. Karen explained, "The tics can last for a bit, but he'll be back to normal soon." Sponge Bob nodded, his grip on Plankton's hand steadying as he watched his friend's eye refocus. He didn't understand it, but he knew Plankton needed time. As the tics began to subside, Plankton's hand squeezed Sponge Bob's in weak acknowledgment. Sponge Bob felt a wave of relief crash over him. "I'm here," he murmured, his voice quiet and reassuring. Plankton's breathing grew more even, his body finally relaxing. The twitches gradually slowed until they were barely noticeable. It was like watching a tightly wound clockwork toy slowly unwinding. Karen reached over to stroke Plankton's arm, her touch feather-light. "You're going to be okay," she said. (my search NeuroFabulous)

"𝖮𝗁 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍.." 𝖣𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍? 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 '𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅' 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗑𝖾𝖽. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

Hi, friends! I like emojicombos.com because it’s easy for me to use, being public domain. I also like to express myself through writing, as an author with Autism. So thank you Emoji combos and keep it up!

🔪☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ sprinkling some fairy dust on the feed for my mentally ill & disabled girlies who may be struggling or having a hard time rn ༺♡༻ /)__/) Ƹ̵̡\( ˶• ༝ •˶) /Ʒ o ( ⊃⊃) *⛥*ﾟ・。*.ੈ ♡₊˚•. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ # 🔮

𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡 ౨ৎ

"disabilities aren't aesthetic" Yes, but you don't need to say this under the posts of disabled people showing off cute mobility aids, decorated med organisers, a cute bed set up, the art piece that represents their disabilities, etc. Whether theyre your fellow disabled folk or especially so if you're able-bodied/neurotypical, allow disabled people freedom of expression and the little joys they can. People cope with their disabilities in diverse ways, and sometimes that means you will see a disabled person romanticizing their life, or making their aids aesthetic. Someone existing and expressing themselves, making their lives more comfortable and enjoyable, should not be seen as ”glorifying” anything. I’m not telling anyone to go make themselves disabled, nobody should take their health for granted.

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TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)

“Neurodivergent Umbrella”* Beneath the umbrella, it lists: ADHD DID & OSDD ASPD BPD NPD Dyslexia CPTSD Dyspraxia Sensory Processing Dyscalculia PTSD Dysgraphia Bipolar Autism Epilepsy OCD ABI Tic Disorders Schizophrenia Misophonia HPD Down Syndrome Synesthesia * non-exhaustive list

ℑ𝔪 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣. 💀

DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc. TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)

Going into Hospital When you are suddenly needing to go into hospital it can be scary, and the last thing people want to do is think about what they need to take with them. For this reason we have compiled this list to help you prepare. Comfortable/ Loose fitting clothing Several pairs of underwear Thick socks Ipad/Tablet/ Ipod w/ earphones Money Sanitary pads Mobile phone and charger Food to snack on Books/ CD’s/ Magazines Toiletries/ face wipes/hairbrush Own Pillow Clothing for going home Dressing gown and slippers An overnight bag is a good idea (although you may not need this) Heating pad

Everyone is NOT a little bit autistic. The Autistic Teacher Using the phrase "everyone is a little bit autistic" can be problematic for several reasons... Minimisation of the Challenges Autism is a complex neurotype that affects individuals in various ways. By saying "everyone is a little bit autistic," it trivialises the challenges and differences faced by those who are autistic. Stereotyping and Misunderstanding Autism is not just about being introverted, having social quirks, or being detail-oriented. It encompasses a wide range of challenges in communication, differences in behaviour, and sensory processing that are unique to each autistic individual. Lack of Understanding and Awareness Such statements can perpetuate misconceptions about autism and hinder efforts to create a more inclusive and supportive environment for autistic individuals. Invalidation of Experiences Autistic people have distinct experiences and struggles that should not be dismissed or equated to common personality traits found in everyone. Promoting Stigma Comparing personality traits to a complex neurotype can reinforce stereotypes and stigma associated with autism. Instead of using 'everyone is a little bit autistic', it's important to respect the diversity and individuality of autistic people and educate ourselves and others by listening to actually autistic voices. The Autistic Teacher

~ Considering your sensory needs- pack a bag with sensory aids such as headphones, earplugs, coloured glasses, stim tools, ice, comfort items and so on to support your comfort whilst at your appointment. Considering your communication needs- perhaps take a trusted friend or family to support with verbal communication, a hospital passport that you can share with staff or notes including scripted comments or responses that you can refer to during the appointment as verbal speech. Wear suitable clothing or dress that can be easily taken on and off. To minimise uncertainty, research what is involved in the procedure before attending so that you have a good idea what to expect. Write out a list of questions to avoid relying on memory during a potentially stressful experience. Plan your travel route in advance and leave plenty of time to get to your appointment to minimise anxiety and allow time to adjust to the environment upon arrival. Engage in calming, grounding techniques prior to the appointment start time. During: whilst at the appointment it may be helpful to ~ Ask for the nurse practitioner to talk you through the procedure in full before it commences, preferably with use of images or demonstrations with relevant equipment. Be open about which aspects of the experience you might struggle with as an Autistic person and request particular adjustments. Engage in grounding techniques such as mindful breathing. Hold on to a stim object that is comforting or acts as a stress reliever. Listen to music to support self-regulation. Share your concerns or worries with the nurse practitioner to invite reassurance or helpful advice. Remember your reason for attending and why it is important for you. Aftercare: following the procedure, it is a good idea to plan in some time for self-care and self-regulation, some ideas might include ~ Get yourself into a sensory safe space where things feel predictable and calm (for e.g. a quiet room with dim lighting, weighted blanket etc). Arrange to debrief/chat to a friend or another supportive person about your experience after leaving your appointment. Arrange to meet with a trusted person following the procedure to support you with getting back home or perhaps to do something you might enjoy together. Engage in your dedicated interest. Acknowledge your achievement in attending and getting through the appointment. Journal about your experience to help with emotional processing. Engage in your favourite stim to release any tension that may remain in your body. Allow yourself to physically rest or sleep once back at home.

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"You're going to be okay," Karen assured Plankton. He clutched her hand. "I'm right here." The receptionist's voice echoed through the large waiting room. "Plankton?" Karen's heart jumped. She squeezed her husband's hand. They walked down the hallway, Plankton's breaths shallow, eye darting around the white, sterile walls. The nurse led them to a small room. "Just a few questions," the nurse smiled, her voice soothing as she helped him in the recliner. The nurse, noticing his agitation, spoke slowly and clearly. "We're just going to take your blood pressure, okay?" The nurse wrapped the cuff around his bicep, her movements gentle. The hiss of the air pump filled the tense silence. "Look at me, Plankton," Karen whispered, her calming gaze meeting his. "Take deep breaths." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm. The nurse waited patiently, giving them space. As the cuff tightened, Plankton's eye squeezed shut. The nurse completed her task quickly, her voice steady. "Good job," she said, patting his hand. Karen felt his fear spike, but his grip on her hand remained firm as the oral surgeon walked in. Dr. Marquez nodded at them, his demeanor calm and professional. "Hello, Plankton. I see we're getting ready for your wisdom teeth." He noticed Plankton's tension and turned to Karen. "You earlier mentioned his neurodisability. Is there anything special we can do to help make him comfortable?" Karen's screen lit up with gratitude. "Yes, thank you." She explained his need for calm and his sensory sensitivities. Dr. Marquez nodded thoughtfully. "We can use a weighted blanket to help with that. It provides a gentle pressure that can be quite comforting for some of my patients." He turned to the nurse. "Could you please bring one?" The nurse nodded and left the room. When she returned, she carried a soft, blue weighted blanket they warmed. They placed the blanket over Plankton, the weight evenly distributed. His body visibly relaxed under its soothing embrace. "It's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae. "This will help." Plankton felt the warmth of the blanket, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders and chest. But it did little to ease his dread. "Thank you, Dr. Marquez," Karen managed a smile, relief washing over her. She knew how important these accommodations were for her husband. The doctor explained the procedure, using simple terms that Plankton could understand. Karen noted how he tailored his explanation to avoid overwhelming details that might trigger anxiety. The anesthesiologist entered, her smile kind. "We're going to give you some medicine to help you sleep," she said gently, "and then you'll wake up without feeling a thing." Plankton nodded, his eye wide. Karen leaned in, her voice low. "You can hold my hand as you fall asleep." The anesthesiologist prepared the IV, but Plankton's grip on Karen's hand grew tighter. Dr. Marquez noticed his distress and suggested a different approach. "How about some laughing gas first?" he offered. "And perhaps a topical numbing agent.." The nurse quickly set up the gas mask, explaining each step. "This will help you relax," she said, placing it over him. "Just breathe normally." The sweet smell of the nitrous oxide filled him, yet he still remained awake. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen said soothingly. "Just keep breathing." He took a tentative breath, feeling the gas fill his lungs. The room began to spin, but not in the scary way he'd feared. It was more like floating. The weight of the blanket now felt like a gentle hug from the ocean depths, a warm embrace from his childhood home. Dr. Marquez waited until Plankton's breathing steadied, each gesture carefully calculated to avoid any sudden movements that might startle his patient. "You're doing great," he assured Plankton, his voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his anxiety. "You're almost there." Plankton inhaled another lungful of gas, his eye fluttering closed. The nurse gently began applying the topical numbing agent, her movements carefully choreographed to avoid any sudden jolts. Karen held his other hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're safe," she whispered. "I'm here." The gas grew heavier, his mind drifted further from the cold reality of the room. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the weighted blanket now a warm sea of comfort. His grip on Karen's hand grew looser, his breaths deepening. The doctor nodded to the anesthesiologist, who began the IV drip after using the topical numbing agent. Plankton's fear didn't vanish, but it became manageable, a distant thunderstorm rather than a hurricane in his face. His eye closed completely, his body going limp under the blanket. Karen watched as the surgical team moved with precision, their masks and caps dancing in her peripheral vision. The beeping of machines and the murmur of medical jargon filled her ears, but all she focused on was the rhythm of Plankton's breathing. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors and gave a nod. "He's ready," she said quietly. Dr. Marquez took his position, his gloved hands poised over Plankton's now open mouth after removing the gas mask. Karen's gaze was steady, her love and support unwavering as the surgical team moved in unison. The whirring of the instruments began, a soft mechanical lullaby to the background of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The surgery itself was a dance of precision, each gesture a step carefully choreographed to minimize discomfort. The doctor's hands were steady as he removed the wisdom teeth. Karen could see the tense lines in Plankton's face soften under the influence of the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors continuously, ensuring his vital signs remained steady. The nurse offered Karen a chair, but she chose to stand, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. As the surgery progressed, Karen felt the tension in the room ease. The surgical team worked with efficiency, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. Dr. Marquez spoke in hushed tones with his assistants, each word a gentle whisper in the symphony of medical sounds. Plankton's breaths steadied, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a soothing reminder that he was still with her, that his anxiety had been replaced by the peacefulness of deep sedation. The doctor's instruments continued to dance, a silent ballet of precision and care. The nurse occasionally glanced at Karen, offering a reassuring smile as they suture his gums with dissolving stitches. "Alright, we're all done," Dr. Marquez announced, his voice a gentle interruption to the symphony of beeps and whirs. "Let's wake him up slowly." Karen felt her own heart rate spike as the anesthesiologist began reversing the medication. They removed the IV drip and the nurse wiped Plankton's mouth with a soft cloth, her touch as gentle as a sea anemone caressing his skin. His eye flickered open, unfocused and hazy. He blinked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Karen's screen was the first thing he saw, a beacon in the medical fog. "You're okay," she murmured, her voice the gentle hum of a distant lighthouse guiding his consciousness back to shore. Plankton blinked again, his vision swimming into focus. The weighted blanket was still wrapped around him, the comforting pressure now a grounding reminder of her presence. His mouth felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. The nurse offered him water, and he sipped it slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his throat. "How do you feel?" Dr. Marquez asked, his voice a soft wave breaking over the shore of Plankton's awareness. Plankton nodded, his grip on Karen's hand firm. "Good," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. Karen could see the relief in his eye, the storm of fear now a distant memory. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

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FIVE Senses to ground yourself 5 things you See (eyesight) 4 things you Hear (listening) 3 things you Feel (touch) 2 things you Smell (scent) 1 thing you can Taste

DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc.

BENEFITS TO EMBRACING NEURODIVERSITY IN Schools @MeS. SPEECHIEPO CREATES INCLUSIVE LEARNING ENVIRONMENTS Neurodiversity affirming teaching strategies allow ALL students, regardless of neurotype to be accepted, valued, and supported. IMPROVES ACADEMIC AND LEARNING OUTCOMES Neurodivergent students often excel academically when their individual learning styles are accommodated and their strengths are nurtured. ENHANCES SOCIAL INTERACTIONS Neurodiverse i.e. BOTH Neurotypical and Neurodivergent) students have opportunities to interact with peers of varying neurotypes, fostering social skills and relationships, empathy, understanding, and acceptance. REDUCES BULLYING AND STIGMA Directly teaching about differences and embracing neurodiversity reduces bullying and stigma, creating a safer and more welcoming school environment for ALL students. PROMOTES A VARIETY OF STRENGTHS AND INTERESTS Schools can identify, promote, and celebrate the talents, strengths, and interests of ALL students, whether in academics, arts, or other areas to make everyone feel valued, respected, and accepted. OMeS SPEECHIEPO

🧠ᵗᶤʳᵉᵈ ᵇʳᴬᶤᶰ 🧠

List of individuals living with supernumerary body parts as of AD 2024 Sat Sep 07 2024 13:24:17 A homeless cat has confounded its new carers after it was revealed it had two noses. A polymelic cow named Manny has "cephalomelia, where the attachment is on the head". A 5 legged cat named Lu, or Leggy Lu as she's known on TikTok As well as having 6 legs, Ariel the female spaniel also has two vulvae. The dog’s extra hind legs are fused together, having two hip joints on one side. Though, Ariel’s said to have some operations, possibly in order to amputate the excess appendages. Skipper, an Aussie/Border Collie mix puppy was born in Oklahoma with six legs. But vets at Neel Veterinary Hospital say she's doing well. Born in Oklahoma City, this Aussie/border collie mix was born with a pair of congenital disorders called monocephalus dipygus and monocephalus rachipagus dibrachius tetrapus. In non-vet speak, the results are a sweet little puppy who has a single head and chest cavity, but with most everything below that duplicated, including her urinary tracts and reproductive systems. Most noticeably to anyone not equipped with an x-ray machine, this has also given Skipper two tails and an extra pair of legs. Rare two-headed snake, 'Double Dave', found in US A two headed tortoise, called Janus, was born September 3, 1997 in the Museum of Natural History in Geneva, Switzerland. On Tuesday, January 16th @twoheaded.calf3 on TikTok says their polycephalic calf is doing well. Sorte, a Portugese turtle with polycephaly, has four front feet and two air pipes but one heart and intestinal system. And that, vets say, meant the turtle is one, not two, animals. Abby and Brittany Hensel, conjoined twins from the United States, though they identify as two individual people. Hannah Kersey is the Northam resident born with uterus didelphys, which is when a woman has two wombs instead of one Andreea Barbosa was born with two fully functioning uteri

AUTIE AND DOCTOR GOOD (Author has Sensory Processing Disorder) Autie’s determination grew with each step she took away from that cold, unfeeling place. This was not the end of her journey. Days later, Autie found herself in the waiting room of Dr. Goodie, a recommendation from a friend who understood her plight. The walls here were painted a warm, soothing color, and the air smelled faintly of lavender. The music was soft, a melody that seemed tailored to her soul. The furniture was plush, and the lighting gentle, not the harsh fluorescent glare she'd come to expect. When Dr. Goodie entered, her eyes met Autie's, a smile in them that seemed genuine. She didn't immediately dive into her charts, but sat down, her posture open and attentive. "Tell me, Autie, what brings you in today?" Her voice was calm, a stark contrast to the storm Autie had weathered before. Autie took a deep breath, her words tumbling out like a waterfall, explaining her symptoms, her fears, and the pain of being doubted. Dr. Goodie nodded, her gaze never leaving Autie's, her expression one of understanding. She asked questions, real questions, that didn't make Autie feel like she was being interrogated. Her touch was gentle, her explanations thorough. She acknowledged Autie's reality, validating her experiences without dismissal. The exam room was a sanctuary, designed with sensory needs in mind. The lights were dimmer, the sounds softer, and the air held a faint scent of calming essential oils. Dr. Goodie offered Autie noise-canceling headphones, and a soft, weighted blanket to hold during the exam. She moved slowly, giving Autie time to adjust to each new sensation. Her voice remained calm and soothing, a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of Autie's overwhelmed nervous system. "We'll go at your pace," Dr. Goodie assured her. "I have different tools and techniques that I can use to make this easier for you." Autie felt a spark of hope, a tiny flame flickering in the darkness. For the first time in a long time, someone was offering her choices, treating her not as a problem to be solved, but as a person to be heard. Before each test, Dr. Goodie explained what she was about to do, asking for Autie's consent. "Is this okay with you?" she would say, holding up a thermometer or a blood pressure cuff. It was a simple question, but it meant the world to Autie. Her nods were met with a warm smile and a gentle touch that didn't make her recoil. The doctor's fingers were light as they performed each procedure, and she talked Autie through each step, her voice a steady beacon in the chaos of Autie's senses. For the first time in this medical odyssey, Autie felt seen and heard. Dr. Goodie didn't dismiss her pain, didn't treat her like a puzzle to solve or a problem to fix. Instead, she offered empathy, a rare gift in a world that so often misunderstood her. With each question, each caring gesture, Autie felt a piece of herself being put back together, like a shattered vase being carefully glued. "Would you like the lights a bit dimmer?" Dr. Goodie asked, and Autie nodded gratefully. The doctor obliged, and the room transformed into a soothing cave of calm. The doctor then presented her with a tray of different textured materials to choose from. "Which one feels most comfortable for you?" Autie selected a soft, velvety material, and Dr. Goodie placed it over the chair's harsh fabric, giving her a small oasis of comfort. Next, she offered a variety of fidget toys, each designed to cater to a different need. "Which of these helps you focus?" Autie's eyes lit up as she chose a smooth stone, the weight of it grounding her in a way she hadn't felt since she first walked into the cold, uncaring environment of Dr. Baddy's office. She clutched it tightly as Dr. Goodie continued her exam, her thumb absently tracing patterns that soothed her racing mind. The doctor spoke softly, explaining that she understood how overwhelming the world could be for someone with heightened senses. "We're going to work together," she assured Autie, "to find what works best for you." It was a revelation, like stepping out of a nightmare and into a dream. Here was someone who didn't just tolerate her differences but celebrated them, who saw her as more than just a collection of symptoms. Dr. Goodie took out a small pad of paper and a pen, asking Autie to write down any particular textures or sensations that were particularly uncomfortable for her. Autie's hand shook slightly as she began to scribble, the relief making her almost lightheaded. She listed the cold metallic feeling of instruments, the rough cotton of the typical examination table, the sharpness of needles, and the unyielding grip of Dr. Baddy's restraints. The doctor nodded thoughtfully as she read, her eyes never leaving Autie's. "I see," she said, her voice calm and measured. "We'll make sure to avoid those triggers as much as possible. I have a few alternatives we can try." Her voice was like a balm, soothing Autie's frazzled nerves. "For instance, we can use a different material for the blood pressure cuff, and I can make sure to warm up any instruments before I use them on you." She paused, waiting for Autie to indicate her agreement. When she nodded, Dr. Goodie smiled gently. "Good. And I have some numbing cream that can help." The exam continued, but this time it was a dance of understanding. Each move was made with care, each touch a promise that Autie's needs were not just acknowledged, but respected. Dr. Goodie was patient, explaining each step before taking it, and Autie felt a burden lifting. She was not a problem to be solved, but a person to be cared for. The doctor's gentle touch was a stark contrast to the invasive poking of before, and Autie found herself relaxing under the weighted blanket, the soft light, and the steady rhythm of her voice.

https://www.midol.com/about-my-period

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Anonymous asked: autism culture is feeling like a nuisance when you’re overstimulated because you don’t want to be mean to anyone or have a meltdown but you can’t keep masking and everything is too much

Anonymous asked: Undiagnosed autism culture is your family can't comprehend that you are also autistic because you have a family member that was diagnosed as a child and has different support needs than you.

NEW TO AUTISM OR POSSIBLE AUTISM DIAGNOSIS? OMeS SPEECHIE POS First Unlearn (almost) EVERYTHING you know about Autism and start FRESH! Autism is MORE than stereotypes! Autistic people can: Speak, be friendly, make eye contact, play creatively, be intelligent, enjoy hugs, go to college, tolerate different sensory sensations, respond to their name, get married, have friends, have jobs and careers, and more! Autism is a Pattern of Differences: Language: : Loe Take and Talking, may struggle saying wants/needs • Delay or decreased use of gestures, pointing, body language • Echolalia & scripting after age 2.5 • Uses words or phrases repeatedly/often • High pitch, melodic, sing-song voice • Uses another's hand/body as a tool to get help/gain access Interests & Routines: • Prefers sameness and routine, may struggle with changes and become anxious and dysregulated • Has strong, focused interests, may have early interest in letters/ numbers/ reading • Focuses on details and likes things to be "just right" (labeled OCD) • Repeats play activities or scenes (dumping/crashing, creative play) : Creies wakon router/patterns Social: • Eye contact: intense, avoidant, or inconsistent • Absent or inconsistent response to name • May be "overly" friendly/ lack stranger danger • May prefer to play alone or parallel play longer than others • May be better at responding to others than initiating social contact • Differences in joint attention • May need to direct/control play Sensory Processing: • Selective (picky) eating habits • Covers ears to loud sounds/ puts sounds up to ears, listens to sounds/songs on repeat • Watches items up close to study spinning or how they work, may look at eye level or side of eyes • Enjoys tight hugs, avoids hugs • Seeks movement: jumping, pacing, rocking back and forth, crashing • Sensitivity to grooming, washing, These are common examples & a non exhaustive list Autistic people can have many strengths, which often include: Hyperlexia: Reading letters & words at an early age Exceling in music, art, science, math, computer Hyper focusing on areas of interests Excellent memory skills Having an extensive knowledge in certain topics Knowing numbers, shapes, & colors early Motivated to teach self difficult skills. Remember that your feelings are valid. However you feel Keep in mind that some feelings should not be shared publicly where your child may see it one day. AND know that it's common for feelings to change over time, especially when you learn more about Autism and see your child progress with support. Consider Neurodiversity affirming support: Neuro-affirming support prioritizes the child's strengths and individuality, promotes self-advocacy, and ultimately allows and encourages children to be their authentic self. Be ready to advocate for your child while also teaching your child to advocate for themselves. Unfortunately, most people have a lot to learn when it comes to accepting Autistic and disabled people. While this should not fall solely on the shoulders of disabled people and/or their parents, we need to recognize that this does happen, and parents need to be ready. Accept that you may make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. I have made MANY. Keep in mind that when you know better, you can do better. Growth is the goal!

Autistic and Being Startled Easily... @neurodivergent_lou Autistic people may struggle with being startled easily, whether that be by a sudden phone call or someone walking into a room. This is something that autistic may experience more intensely than non-autistic people for a variety of different reasons. Autistic people may be 'startled' easily due to hyper-sensitivity to sensory input. For example, for autistic people noise may feel increasingly amplified. The sound of someone coming into a room can be incredibly startling and sudden. Sensory overwhelm isn't necessarily just about the noise itself but can also be related to the layers of sound or unpredictability of it, As autistic people, we may struggle with feeling on edge a lot of the time and being in 'fight or flight mode'. For example, the world can generally feel unpredictable and we may have repeated past experiences of being misunderstood (e.g. due to autistic communication differences). This feeling of being on edge can contribute to being easily startled. It also feels related to how autistic people experience focus and attention. Autistic people may have a tendency toward hyper-focus and getting almost lost into a subject of interest. We may also end up deep in thought or dissociate. This can mean that someone coming into the room can feel particularly disruptive. The shift in attention can be difficult too. One minute your attention is absorbed in a certain thing and then suddenly a person walks in, makes you jump and shifts your attention completely. The theory of monotropism suggests that autistic minds tend to have their focus pulled more intensely towards a smaller number of interests at any given time, leaving less processing resources for other things. Another part of this is waiting to potentially be startled and the stress of waiting for this. For example, if we are waiting for a phone call, it can be stressful anticipating a sudden loud noise. It can make us feel on edge and unable to do anything else.

Autistic Masking The Autistic Teacher What is Autistic Masking? Masking is when we suppress or hide our feelings, needs, behaviours or another part of ourselves in order to fit in with those around us. Sometimes referred to as camouflaging. Everyone masks to a certain extent... but autistic people often have different social norms and so there is increased pressure and judgement from those around. An autistic person can mask so much that it becomes harmful to ourselves. We can spend our lives masking and hiding our real selves. Suppressing Some behaviours that we find soothing or help us to regulate can be considered a bit 'weird' and so many Autistic people suppress these 'stims' Making eye contact can be uncomfortable, even painful for some autistic people, but we might force ourselves to be uncomfortable to try desperately hard to appear to fit in, even to our detriment. Suppressing Most common for me is hiding my sensory discomfort. This could be staying somewhere that is too bright, too loud, too hot... because I'm trying really hard to cope and be like everyone else. But unfortunately it can take it's toll and can result in a meltdown, shutdown or burnout. Sometimes if you are feeling really shy you can force yourself to be out there and talking to people. But it's draining. Exhausting. Reflecting I have become very good at watching people and reflecting their behaviour. This too is masking. I might learn scripts... planning how a conversation might go and thinking about the correct responses. I watch and listen to what kind of behaviour or language is acceptable so that I can fit in. This might include suppressing the desire to infodump and tell them all about my current hyper focus or special interest. The Effects Autistic people who mask more show more signs of anxiety and depression. It's exhausting, draining...and people mask for so many years that they begin to lose their identity. Masking can lead to Autistic burnout and a mental health crisis Understanding and Acceptance Understanding and acceptance of neurodivergent behaviours and differences by neurotypical individuals is key. This would lessen the need to mask! As neurodivergent people, we can also be aware of masking and how it effects us. Knowing this and being kind to yourself, allowing some time to be your authentic self and recover is absolutely vital in protecting your own mental health.

Sensory inputs can be any stimuli entering through one of the sensory modalities: sight, sound, gustation, olfaction, and tactile sensations. Tactile sensations include responses to pressure and temperature. Over stimulation is the product of sensory overload. Overstimulation (OS) occurs when there is “to much” of some external stimulus or stimuli for a person's brain to process and integrate effectively. Sensory overload can be triggered by a singular event or a build up thereof. When the brain has to put all of its resources into sensory processing, it can shut off other functions, like speech, decision making and information processing. Using noise-cancelling headphones to vastly reduce external sound, which can help to stop sensory over load. Weighted sensory products, such as blankets or vests, to provide pressure and soothing proprioceptive input. Avoiding open questions – if you need their input on something, aim to use closed yes/no questions. It causes feelings of discomfort and being overwhelmed. Moving away from sources of sensory input, such as loud sounds or strong smells, can reduce these feelings. However, it is a core characteristic of autism, where individuals often experience heightened sensitivity to stimuli. It's important to note that not all autistic individuals experience overstimulation in the same way or to the same degree. Some may have a higher threshold for sensory input and be less easily overwhelmed, while others may become overstimulated even in relatively calm environments. Stimming, short for self-stimulating behaviors, is a repetitive movement or action that can include body movements, vocal noises, or sensory stimulation. It can be a way to manage excess energy, self-soothe, or cope with emotions. Stimming can also help regulate sensory input, either increasing stimulation or decreasing sensory overload. Stimming behaviors can consist of tactile, visual, auditory, vocal, proprioceptive (which pertains to limb sensing), olfactory, and vestibular stimming (which pertains to balance).

Neurodivergence* are just as physical as other disabilities. why are changes in your brain, nerves, gut, hormones, senses, and energy levels only considered physical if they're caused by literally anything else? have we considered that the separation of the mind from the rest of the body is just a way of minimizing and othering ND people? *neurodivergent refers to people with mental illnesses, developmental and intellectual disabilities, and other neurological conditions.

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🔥✧꧂”name” ꧁✧🔥꧂

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ه*:･゚

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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ . 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * • ○ ° ★ .　 * 　.　 　　　　　. 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 🌫️

whumpster-dumpster: A whumpee stirring from a deep, medicine-induced sleep to the sound of muffled voices. Trying to pry their eyes open to see who it is but their resolve is too weak, their eyelids too heavy. Their head lolls sideways on the pillow as they draw a slow, sluggish breath, mumbling unintelligibly. Where am I? What’s happening? Their mouth won’t properly form the words. The voices pause, hesitate, and then a warm hand is stroking their face and hair. “No, no…shhhh. Shh, it’s alright. It’s nothing,” a soothing voice whispers, lulling them back down. “Go back to sleep.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⢶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡶⠶⠶⠶⠶⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡟⠉⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠴⠒⣉⣁⠠⠤⠤⠤⠤⠄⣈⢉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣛⠻⢷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠋⠀⠀⢀⡤⠚⣡⠔⣊⠭⠔⠒⠒⠒⠒⠲⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡠⠤⠤⠤⢄⡀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠐⢁⡴⢊⡔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢢⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⣤⣴⣿⡿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⠛⢻⣿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⣹⣿⡿⠛⢛⣓⣀⣀⣀⠙⠩⣿⣶⣞⣹⣶⣏⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠙⢿⣿⣷⣾⣉⣶⣏⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢛⠣⣍⠻⣦⠀ ⢀⣾⠋⡎⠀⣴⠟⠋⠉⣍⠛⠻⠶⣦⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⣧⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⣟⠛⣻⣿⡷⢶⣦⡙⡌⢣⣿⡆ ⢸⡇⠀⡇⢸⡏⢀⣀⣼⡿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⡭⣉⣭⣭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣦⣄⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠁⣶⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⠇ ⠸⣷⡀⣇⠸⣧⠉⠉⢻⣧⠀⠈⠛⢿⣶⣦⣄⣈⠉⠉⠉⠀⣿⡁⢠⣶⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡿⠷⠤⣀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣧⠀⢊⡠⢾⡿⠀ ⠀⠙⣷⣌⠲⠬⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣶⣤⣀⣿⡄⠉⠙⠛⠿⢶⣦⣬⣇⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠲⣶⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣀⣥⣾⡿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡉⠻⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⣀⢰⡿⠉⠉⠉⠛⢻⣿⠿⠿⠶⣶⡶⠿⠟⢿⣟⠁⢹⡇⣻⣿⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⡿⠀⠉⠙⠛⢿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣤⣴⣿⣤⣤⣤⣿⣦⣤⣤⣴⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣦⣀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠉⠙⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢷⣄⠀⣀⠀⠠⣀⠈⠙⠷⣶⣿⣃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠉⢉⣿⠋⢸⡟⢱⣿⣾⠃⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣦⣉⠒⠤⣙⠲⠤⣀⡉⠙⠛⠿⠶⠶⠾⢿⣤⣤⣤⣾⣧⣤⣾⠿⠶⠿⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣶⣤⣉⠒⠦⢍⣑⡲⠤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠞⠁⠀⡆⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⢷⣤⣄⡈⠉⠉⠓⠒⠭⠭⠌⣉⣉⡉⣉⣉⣉⡉⠉⠁⢀⣀⠴⠊⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠻⢷⣦⣄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⠶⢶⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣶⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Sleep When You're in Pain (Chronic or Acute) Sleep on your back if you have lower back pain. Some individuals may benefit from placing a pillow under their knees while in this position. Elevating the knees can take pressure off the lower back. Sleep on your side if you have neck pain. Sleep on your left side to improve your digestion. People who find side sleeping helpful during their period may benefit from placing a pillow between their knees. Experimenting with different pillow positions can help. If you have stomach cramps, try drawing your knees up to your chest in the foetal position, which may help. This position involves lying on the side and tucking the legs toward the chest. You can also sleep on your back propped up with pillows to relieve heartburn. If you have pain due to gas, try laying on your back to relieve some of the pressure off of your stomach. https://www.wikihow.health/Sleep-when-You%27re-in-Pain

ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ' *ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ* ' ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ; ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧" ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ? ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ‧" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ʰᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ! ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳ⁻ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵍᵘʸˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ' *ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ* ' "‧‧‧ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠᵃˢᵗ‽" ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵃˡᵉ‧ ᴵⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᔆᵗᵒᵖ' ʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴴᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ!' ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ!' ᴿᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴳᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ!' ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢʰᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷᵃʸ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴺᵒ!' 'ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ‧‧‧' ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴺᵒ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴿᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵗ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧" "ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ; ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴴᵒⁿᵉˢᵗˡʸ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵉᵃᵗˢ ᵐᵉᵃᵗ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵉᵗ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉʳ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒˡᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵛᵉⁿᵍᵉᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐⁱᵉˢ; ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵃᵇˡᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣶⠾⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⢷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⣀⣦⠤⢤⣤⣴⣿⣯⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣿⣧⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶ ⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠹⢷⣎⡷⣏⠿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠏⠉⢿⣞⡱⢎⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠈⠹⠷⠿⠶⠛⠛⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⠗⠛⠳⢿⡿⠟⠁⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣄⣀⣀⣤⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣹⣷⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⠿⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠠⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠒⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠒⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠐⠒⠒⠒⠒⠀⠀⠉⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠒⠂⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⢀⡀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠁⠈⠙⡆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣀⡁⠀⠀⠃⠀⣀⠀⠀⣸⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠸⡄⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢹⠰⡋⣿⣶⢤⠈⡷⠚⠒⢦⡯⣥⣾⠀⢸⣇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣄⣈⡉⠉⠁⣀⡇⠀⠀⢸⡍⠙⠛⠀⢘⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡀⠐⠄⣼⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢇⠉⠉⠉⠉⢍⡿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⡽⠀⠀⠰⣽⠏ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣈⣯⣤⠀⠀⠀⢠⠔⠀⣁⢤⢍⣈⡒⢁⠀⠸⣱⡏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⠀⠀⠹⢿⡄⠀⠀⢰⠀⣾⣿⣾⣾⣾⣾⡇⠇⣴⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⠀⠃⠘⢿⣇⣀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣰⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀⣀⠄⠀⠈⠋⢯⡦⡄⠀⠻⣿⠿⠛⢁⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣀⡔⠁⠀⢀⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠿⠾⡾⢬⠯⠷⣏⣋⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀ ⠐⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⢀⠀⢀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣾⠿⠿⣿⣷⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⡿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣷⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣼⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣧⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡆⠀ ⢰⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠀ ⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡄ ⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⢋⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠙⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠈⠉⠻⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣇ ⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿ ⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⣷⣦⣄⣀⣀⡉⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠛⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⢀⣴⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿ ⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⣿⣶⣶⣿⠿⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣤⣀⣠⣤⣶⣾⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⢻⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡟⠛⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠘⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠀⢹⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠟⠟⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣄⡀⠸⠿⠿⢇⣀⣠⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟ ⠀⠀⠘⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣾⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⡦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⠇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣶⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⠿⣿⣶⣤⣄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣶⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⢿⣶⣶⣶⣶⡿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡴⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⢤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠒⠶⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⡤⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⠛⠓⠦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠶⠶⠶⠶⠦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⡈⣧⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠲⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢠⣶⡶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⣶⣤⣀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⢻⡇⢲⡶⢶⣾⣶⣤⣀⠀⠈⢻⣦⣶⠶⣶⣤⣐⣿⣛⣉⣩⣭⡉⠉⢹⣿⣄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣆⠈⠻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠘⢦⣜⣿⣿⣿⣯⡟⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣏⣉⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢸⢸⣗ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⡀⢸⡏⠉⠉⠛⠋⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⢠⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣷⠘⠿⠶⠶⠶⣶⠶⢿⠿⢻⣟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⠀⠈⠓⠶⣿⣏⣅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢦⣸⣗ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⢹⣾⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡤⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡗⠀⠀⠀⠰⣾⣹⣿⠙ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠙⣽⣿⡤⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣄⣀⢀⣤⡤⣀⣀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣸⣿⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⢀⣀⣾⣧⣴⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠴⠞⠀⠀⢈⣩⣤⢤⣄⣀⣙⠙⢁⡀⠀⠀⢹⣈⣿⡃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠁⠘⣿⣷⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⣠⣾⣻⣤⣿⣤⣿⣹⣏⣿⣦⡙⡗⠀⢨⡟⠙⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠫⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠠⠇⣲⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠼⠁⠸⠟⡿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⢴⣾⡿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢿⣿⣶⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⣠⣽⣿⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠖⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠿⣾⡷⢶⡤⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⠛⠉⠀⣠⡿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠉⢻⣿⣿⣅⣦⣾⠊⢻⣖⠶⣦⣴⠻⡟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⠴⠶⠿⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠶⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠹⢽⠟⠉⠿⠙⠙⠛⠛⠲⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⢤⣄⣀⣀ ⠶⠶⠖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠱⠤⢴⠏⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠖⠛⠋⠙⠛⠒⠴⣟⣠⣄⡀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠉⠉⠀⠉⠙⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣾⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⢀⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⣠⣄⡀⣄⣠⠞⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠶⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⡟⢧⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣼⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠶⣭⣭⣥⠾⠋⠀⠀⢈⣷⣤⣤⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣅⠸⣄⠘⠁⣬⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣧⣈⢡⡞⠀⠀⣤⠇⠙⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠩⣍⠀⠀⣠⠧⣀⣠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣯⠀⠙⠒⠒⠂⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡄⠀⠀⠰⣤⣀⣀⡤⢿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡉⠀⠈⠉⡉⠉⠉⠉⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⣼⠀⣆⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠈⣷⣀⣸⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⢷⠴⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⡤⢄⣠⣤⣤⡄⢠⣄⠀⢠⣤⠄⠀⠀⢤⢴⡦⡤⠤⣤⢤⣤⣤⣤⣤⠤⡤⠀⠀⠠⢤⠤⣤⣤⣤ ⢰⡇⣨⡇⣟⢛⣇⣸⠿⣧⢈⡇⢰⡄⠀⢘⣾⣷⠇⢀⣇⠀⢀⣧⠀⣿⠚⣇⠀⠀⢀⣸⡀⢠⣿⡀ ⠈⠉⠉⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠉⠈⠀⠈⠉⠁⠈⠉⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡶⢦⡀⢠⡶⠦⠀⣰⡄⠠⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⣿⢸⣧⣤⣠⡟⣧⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⢠⣿⣸⡇⠀⣸⠗⢻⡔⣿⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡞⢛⠛⠲⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣈⠉⢉⠀⢉⡉⡉⣋⣀⣈⣋⠉⢉⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⡾⠘⣦⡀⠉⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⣼⡄⣸⠋⡏⠉⣯⠉⢹⠁⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠴⠚⠉⠉⠙⣆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⡇⣀⣿⣇⠀⠀⠺⡦⡀⠀⠘⣷⡇⣷⡇⠀⡇⠀⣿⠀⢸⠋⢻⡃⠀⢀⡴⣎⡁⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⢹⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⣿⣿⣿⠟⠃⠀⠀⢻⣽⣄⡀⠿⢃⡹⠇⢀⠇⡀⢿⠀⠸⠇⠸⢆⡴⢋⣶⠏⠤⣴⣿⠋⠀⠀⢸⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⢿⠹⣿⣽⣗⡂⠀⠀⢻⣞⣿⠒⠋⢀⣴⣿⠛⢻⣿⠗⠀⠀⣠⠏⣰⡟⠁⠀⠀⣻⣿⣀⡏⠀⡾⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠘⡆⢸⣿⣿⠿⣄⠀⠀⡿⡝⡦⡜⣿⠆⢸⠶⢹⡏⠳⣀⡼⠋⣸⡟⠀⠀⠠⠬⢽⣿⡽⠀⢰⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⢻⠀⠸⣿⠂⠈⠂⠀⠠⣿⡇⠙⠀⠀⢸⠗⢻⡇⣄⠉⢰⢡⡏⠀⠀⠀⢐⣿⣯⠘⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣌⠳⣄⠹⣷⣄⡀⠀⠶⠿⠃⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⢸⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣭⣿⠇⠀⠐⢹⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡘⣷⣤⣿⣆⠀⠳⣽⣿⣌⠀⠀⠀⠀⣝⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣠⣾⣾⡿⠇⠀⠀⠰⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣻⣽⣯⣙⣟⣓⣲⣽⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣢⣌⣿⣶⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣀⣄⣯⣽⣹⣿⣤⣀⣀⣠⣆⣀⣀⣄ ⠀⠀⠀⠐⣶⣿⡏⢉⣉⣙⣿⡏⠉⠉⠉⠉⢹⣿⣟⣹⣿⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣉⢹⣿⣙⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⠤⣤⠒⢋⣡⣿⣷⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⢻⣷⣬⢛⣴⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠃⢀⣹⠿⢿⣤⣛⣦⣟⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣦⣮⣷⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⢻⠇⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⠛⠛⢻⠓⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠛⠀⣹⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣦⣤⣀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⢿⣿⡿⠟⠹⣿⡀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⡀⠀⢤⣬⣿⡏⠲⠤⢀⣆⣴⠿⠛⠉⢀⣀⠬⠍⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠰⢄⣽⡄⠀⠄⣿⡇⠀⠈⡳⣤⠀⠀ ⢠⡾⣛⢀⡴⢋⣛⣴⣤⠆⠉⠁⠂⠴⡿⠏⠁⠀⡠⣶⢽⣋⡠⠖⠋⠀⠀⣠⣶⠶⠿⢿⣛⠻⢷⢀⣿⣱⡄⠀⢹⡄⠀⠀ ⠘⢿⡿⡋⠀⠈⢿⣾⡏⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⢋⣴⡯⢋⡠⠤⠤⠴⠚⠉⠀⣠⣴⣿⢿⠀⣼⡾⠁⠈⢞⠂⡞⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⠞⠁⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⣾⣥⡄⣀⣠⠄⢀⡞⢠⠟⠋⠀⠈⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⠁⣠⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠞⠋⠈⠉⠓⠀⠀⠉⠙⠿⣷⣿⣭⡏⠀⠈⠀⡎⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣛⣷⣾⣿⠁⣀⣀⣀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⡷⣤⣀⣀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠖⠛⠋⠉⠛⠛⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠈⠉⠉⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣄⣀⣠⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣠⣀⣀⣀⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⣀⢀⣤⣠⣤⣶⣤⣤⣤⣴⣤⣶⣤⣤⣤⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢛⡛⠛⠛⠛⠛⡛⠛⡛⠛⢛⠛⡛⠛⠛⠛⢛⠛⡛⡟⠋⠉⢙⠛⡛⡛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⡛⠛⠛⢛⠛⠀

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠢⡠⠒⠀⠀⣶⠀⣿⠀⢸⡷⣄⡿⣾⡖⠓⣆⠀⢹⡗⠲⣾⣿⡚⠻⣾⣒⣶⣿⠀⠀⠀⢠⣷⠀⣿⢹⡟⠓⢶⠒⣿⣀⣸⡏⠀⠛⣶⠚⢿⣇⣸⡇⢷⡶⣖⣒⠢⠒⢢⠠⠒⠂ ⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠻⣦⡿⠀⢸⡇⠈⣷⣿⣦⣄⠷⠀⢸⣆⣠⢿⣯⣁⣀⣿⠉⢹⣿⣀⣠⠀⢘⡿⠿⣿⣼⡇⠀⣿⠀⣿⠉⢹⡅⠀⠀⣿⠀⢸⡏⢹⡇⣾⣧⣸⣽⠇⣒⠁⠀⡂⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣈⣠⣤⣬⣥⣭⣭⣤⣀⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣶⠾⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⡀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠳⢦⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠾⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣦⡀⢠⣏⠓⢶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠹⣄⠀⠈⠙⠳⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢆⠀⢸⡇⠀⣯⠿⡆⠀⣠⠌⠙⢳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⢧⠀⠁⣠⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠓⢦⣌⢳⣄⠀⠀⠘⢯⡧⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡶⣿⣿⡁⠀⠘⢮⠻⣷⣦⣤⣤⢿⣅⠀⠀⣀⣴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⢰⣦⣤⡞⠻⠿⠿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣿⣀⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⡛⠛⠀⠬⢹⣿⡋⣉⣭⣽⣗⢤⠀⠀⠀⢻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣦⣘⣷⣏⡁⢰⣶⣌⢳⡁⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣸⣇⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠻⠀⠈⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⣿⣿⡻⡿⣄⣀⡀⠀⠙⣿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣻⣄⣀⠈⠛⠙⠳⠰⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⠉⠙⢳⣄⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣏⣀⣤⣤⣴⣋⣿⠶⣶⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⡙⢉⣉⣻⡶⠿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡟⢁⣭⣷⣿⡏⣿⣓⣶⣺⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣽⣻⠷⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠛⠻⣽⣿⢭⣭⣙⣿⠻⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⢺⣷⣤⢤⡀⠁⠀⠀⠩⠽⠀⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠋⠙⠻⢦⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠋⢠⢟⡿⠛⠛⠚⠳⢤⣤⣄⣠⡤⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡼⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠃⢢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⢷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠞⠁⠀⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣧⣠⡴⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠈⠻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠳⢦⣴⣿⣅⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡴⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⣿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠛⢷⣄⠀⠀⢠⡀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⣤⣼⣧⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡟⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣤⣸⣇⣨⡇⣀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⠋⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⡀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣼⣋⣀⣤⠤⠴⠶⠚⠉⠙⢯⡉⠻⠯⠴⠆⣀⠴⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⠾⠛⠋⢹⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣤⠶⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⣠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠤⠖⡠⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡔⠉⠀⢀⣤⣀⣼⣿⣿⡍⠉⠉⠑⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⢾⣿⣿⡏⠛⠛⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⢃⣦⣴⣔⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠁⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣟⣿⣾⣿⢿⣀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠓⠭⠷⠋⠀⢨⢦⠴⡷⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢎⣂⠇⢀⠍⢲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣇⠢⠤⠜⠒⢺⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢼⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠈⢅⣀⣠⡖⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⢀⠈⢣⠀⠉⠄⢩⡑⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠬⠼⠒⠒⠚⠒⠓⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡒⢢⣶⡆⣰⡄⠖⢂⠀⢶⣷⠐⠒⢲⠒⡶⡆⠀⢲⠒⣒⠂ ⠉⠁⠉⠉⠁⠉⠉⠈⠀⠉⠁⠈⠉⠉⠁⠁⠁⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⠶⠿⠻⠛⠺⠷⢦⣠⡶⠖⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠶⠿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠷⣦⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣶⣦⣀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠉⠛⠉⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠿⢿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⢠⣆⣷⣶⣬⣳⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⣾⣿⣿⣮⣻⣷⣝⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⢿⡏⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⣿⡟⣿⣇⢹⣿⣾⣿⢺⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢰⣾⣿⡝⢿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡇⣻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡶⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠈⠻⣌⡛⢿⣿⣽⡿⠟⣱⡿⠛⠒⠲⢶⣤⠀⠀⠀⣴⡟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠷⠦⣴⡶⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣶⣴⠶⣿⣿⢷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣀⠀⣷⡀⠘⠋⣀⣹⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠙⠃⣨⡿⠀⠀⣀⣹⠎⠙⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⡟⠿⠵⠋⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⠀⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣇⠈⠷⣄⣀⣠⡴⠋⠓⠶⠶⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣏⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠉⠻⢦⣤⣤⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡶⢤⣶⠶⠋⣿⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⡀⠈⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣆⣸⠆⣦⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠀⠙⣦⡀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢧⣄⣿⡀⣠⡿⠷⠶⠶⠶⠶⠾⠷⠶⠾⢷⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢶⠶⢦⣄⣶⡶⣶⣦⠀⢶⣶⠀⠰⣶⣶⠶⠀⠀⠀⢶⡶⣛⢶⡖⠲⢶⠶⢶⡶⢶⠶⡶⣶⠖⢶⡶⠀⠀⠐⠶⣶⠶⢶⣶⣶⣶⠆ ⠀⣺⡀⢀⡽⢸⡟⠿⣿⢀⣿⠽⣷⠀⢻⡇⠒⣦⠀⠀⠈⣧⡿⣾⠃⠀⣸⠀⠀⠃⣺⡄⠀⣿⠓⢿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠈⣲⣧⠀⠀ ⠘⠛⠓⠛⠃⠚⠛⠚⠛⠛⠛⠘⠛⠓⠛⠛⠚⠋⠀⠀⠈⠛⠁⠛⠀⠘⠛⠓⠃⠙⠛⠛⠀⠛⠓⠛⠛⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠀

⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⣄⣤⠤⡀⡤⣤⡤⣤⣤⠀⢠⢠⠠⢤⢤⣠⠀⡤⣄⣠⡤⣤⠠ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠁⠉⠈⠁⠁⠉⠀⣁⣩⡴⢼⣍⣃⠈⠈⠈⠀⠁⠉⠈⠁⠉⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠔⠋⠉⠀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠐⠌⢵⠠⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⡘⠀⢒⡤⠉⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢨⡐⠊⢦⣈⣷⠁⢀⠀⠀⠘⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠒⠊⠉⠛⠓⠲⣾⣾⣧⣤⣿⣯⣄⣸⣇⣺⣳⠀⠘⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣷⡶ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠯⣉⠒⠼⡏⠉⠉⠙⡏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⡤⠾⣶⣖⠁⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣯⣷⣯⣷⣿⠀⠀⠀⢠⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣎⣙⠋⠻⢟⠋⠀⠀⣠⠋⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠴⠪⡀⠙⠢⢄⣀⠀⡠⠊⠘⠉⠈⠉⠒⠊⡆⠤⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⠔⠉⠀⠀⠉⢦⡀⠀⠈⠉⠑⠒⠒⣶⠒⠒⠂⠉⠀⠀⠀⡀⡄⠀⠀ ⢀⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⢠⠎⣀⣑⠼⠬⣰⡀⣀⠔⠉⠉⠀⠀ ⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠋⡹⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠒⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

🤘😏🖕😈😎✨

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠤⠖⠒⠒⠒⠀⠒⠒⠒⠦⠤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⢀⡠⠔⠒⠚⠙⠓⠒⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣈⣳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⣴⠿⠖⠒⠒⢲⣶⡒⠒⠒⠚⡇⠀⠀⢠⡾⠭⠤⢤⣀⣈⣙⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⡒⠒⠒⠒⠚⠛⠓⠒⠒⣺⠃⠀⠀⠘⣗⠒⠦⠤⠾⣿⣌⣉⣻⡄⠀ ⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠲⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡸⠻⡀ ⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⣧ ⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⡀⠀⠀⢸ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡤⠴⠖⠒⠚⠉⣹⠇⠀⠀⠗⠀⠀⢸ ⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠀⠠⠶⠚⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼ ⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃ ⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠒⠦⠤⠄⠀⣀⣀⣸⣦⣠⡤⠖⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠹⣎⠉⠉⠓⠲⠤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣳⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣧⣀⣤⡶⠶⠿⠛⣿⣿⠻⠄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣥⣶⣶⣶⠶⠿⠛⠋⢻⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⢻⡋⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⣀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⢠⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⣀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⢀⣀⡀⣀⣀⢀⡀⠀⡀ ⠀⢰⠉⠀⢸⣇⣿⠀⣿⠳⣿⣟⢋⣗⠀⣏⢹⣿⡟⠉⣿⢿⣿⠀⠀⠰⣿⣼⣇⡏⢉⡏⢹⠶⣿⠀⠈⣿⢹⣷⢾⣿⣟⢻⣿⢉⠝⠈⠉ ⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠉⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢉⣈⣉⣭⣵⣴⣷⣌⣙⠉⠈⠁⠈⠀⠉⠀⠀⠉⠈⠁⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠈⠀⠈⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⡶⠞⠛⠉⠉⣉⡀⠈⠉⠉⠉⢛⠳⠦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡀⢾⡍⠓⠦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⢄⠈⣷⠀⣷⣦⠀⣈⠙⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⣄⠀⠈⠳⣸⡄⢁⡴⠋⠁⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣭⡍⠓⢎⢷⣄⡀⠈⣷⡏⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⣤⣤⡶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣸⣃⣿⣷⠀⠀⢳⣿⣽⠿⠋⡗⢶⡾⢛⣲⣦⢄⠀⠀⢹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠽⢿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣷⣦⣦⣿⣾⣉⣴⣮⣹⡁⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⣧⣤⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣌⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣄⡈⠛⠛⠆⢿⡆⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠇⠀⠈⣹⣦⣀⣀⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⡿⠿⠲⣿⣽⣿⣁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⢋⣿⣾⣟⣿⣳⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣏⣈⠙⠟⠙⢲⣻⢹⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠞⠛⠷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⢋⣿⠿⠛⠿⠦⣤⣄⣠⠼⡆⠀⠀⢀⡴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠛⠁⢦⣄⠀⠀⠙⠳⢦⣤⣀⡀⢠⡴⠋⠀⠼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠴⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠳⠶⠶⠶⢶⣶⡤⠤⠤⠶⠶⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠻⣄⡀⠀⣄⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⣤⣷⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡟⠁⠀⠀⣙⣦⣿⣤⣇⡼⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠉⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⣦⣤⡴⢶⣶⠟⠒⠚⠛⠋⠉⠀⠈⠢⣉⣛⣩⠔⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣀⢀⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣉⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡦⣄⢠⠶⠄⣰⡄⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⣸⣸⠲⢤⣟⣇⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠴⠦⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠒⠋⠛⠒⢺⠁⠹⠛⠒⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⢰⠐⣄⠉⢢⡀⠀⠀⢳⢠⡇⡸⢸⠉⣿⠉⡇⢸⡆⠀⠀⢀⡠⠖⠋⠉⢣⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⢡⣠⣿⣄⠀⢹⣆⠀⠸⣿⢱⡇⢸⠀⣿⠀⡏⢹⠁⢀⣴⣯⠄⢀⣠⠀⢸⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⢻⣿⣥⠀⠀⢻⣷⣤⣥⠌⢁⡮⢤⣽⡄⠁⠈⡷⣡⠞⠁⠰⣿⠁⡄⢸⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠘⡄⢻⣿⣷⡀⠀⢿⣷⣄⣺⠏⡧⢔⡟⢆⣠⠞⣰⠏⠀⠀⣰⣿⡿⠀⡘⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⢡⠀⢿⡂⠙⠀⠠⣿⠋⠀⠀⠿⠚⠇⡀⢁⣹⠏⠀⠀⢀⣿⠍⠀⣰⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⣤⡑⢈⣿⣦⠄⠙⠋⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⢀⣄⣾⠏⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣐⣾⣿⢛⣷⣤⣽⠉⠃⠀⢀⣀⣷⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⣘⣟⣿⣧⣀⠀⢀⣀⠀⣀ ⠀⠀⠀⠶⢿⢛⣛⣻⡿⠛⠛⠛⠛⣿⣟⣻⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⢻⣟⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿ ⠀⠀⠀⠒⣖⢉⣴⣿⠗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠹⢷⣽⣾⣽⣿⣿⡿⠉⣠⣽⣿⣷⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠏⢻⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣈⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠸⢿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣆⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⡀⢬⣹⣿⠡⠄⢀⣠⡾⠛⠉⣉⠩⢛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢌⣯⠁⠀⣿⠀⠐⠢⠀⠀ ⢰⣟⣥⠔⢹⣧⣶⠂⠉⠀⠒⠟⠁⠀⣴⢾⣯⠔⠊⠁⢀⡴⠖⠛⣻⡏⢻⣠⠿⣦⠀⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⡧⠀⠈⢻⣏⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⣵⠟⠁⠒⠊⠉⢉⣠⣴⣾⠟⢃⡼⠋⠀⠘⢰⠃⠀⠀ ⠴⠛⠐⠂⠀⠘⠛⠿⣿⣾⡟⠀⠃⡘⠁⠀⢀⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣶⡟⠁⢀⣀⣴⠟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⣳⣤⣀⣀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠚⠋⠉⠉⠉⠁⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⡿⠿⠻⠿⡿⠿⠟⠿⢿⠟⠻⠿⢿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠛⣿⠻⠿⠿⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠃

(¬‿¬) ( ¬‿¬)>⌐■-■ (⌐■‿■)

➖➖⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ➖⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬜ ⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜🔲⬛⬜⬜ ⬜⬜🔲⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜ ➖⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜ ➖➖⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜

(•⌣•) ( •⌣•)>⌐■-■ (⌐■⌣■)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢢⣎⣠⡇⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠤⡀⠀⠀⡒⡊⣓⣊⣑⠓⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⢈⣱⡈⢢⡀⢣⢣⢹⢸⠠⠲⠀⣠⡊⢁⡀⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⢿⣇⠀⢷⡮⢊⢜⢲⡆⢀⢫⠎⠀⣏⠄⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⡌⢏⠁⠨⡟⠊⠸⠺⡐⣑⠏⠀⣸⠋⢰⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣦⣎⣺⠧⠈⠁⣆⠀⠀⠀⠁⢤⣶⡋⠀⠂⠀ ⠀⠀⠰⢟⣛⣿⠛⠓⢲⣞⣿⣷⣶⣶⡟⣻⡿⡿⣶⣿⡿ ⠀⠀⠈⣧⢾⣏⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠏⣴⣿⣿⣟⠛⠋⠀ ⠀⣠⢊⢠⠨⠿⠂⣠⠔⢋⡭⢪⠀⢀⣀⣼⣁⢸⡀⠂⠀ ⠀⣻⠏⠘⣏⡀⠀⠀⡀⡿⠫⠀⠒⣉⣴⠟⡼⠋⠓⠎⠀ ⠐⠁⠈⠀⠙⠻⢿⡀⠘⢀⣤⣶⣿⣟⡿⠾⠤⠤⠎⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠰⡶⠴⢦⠴⠶⠴⠦⢶⡴⠤⠴⠶⠶⠶⡶⠶⠆

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠤⠴⠖⠒⠒⠒⠦⠤⢄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠑⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠊⠁⠀⠀⣀⡤⠤⠖⠒⠤⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠢⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⢀⣴⡋⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⠤⠤⠤⠵⣆⠀⠀⠀⣤⣶⣉⣉⠉⠙⠚⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⡤⠤⡠⠤⠤⢿⡿⠧⠄⠠⢤⡟⠀⠀⠸⡧⠤⢄⣈⣹⣿⣇⠈⠻⣆⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠦⣀⣀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡠⠔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⣻⣆⠀ ⢀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠒⠒⠒⠒⠉⠀⠸⡄ ⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠋⠛⠀⢀⣠⣶⣾⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣀⠀⠀⣇ ⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⡈⢀⣽⣷⠀⢹ ⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣸ ⢹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⡇ ⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁ ⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢣⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠢⠤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠴⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠑⠒⠒⢒⡾⢿⡛⠿⠤⢤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠒⢤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⣷⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⢃⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⡤⢿⠖⠛⠛⠉⠉⠀⢸⡎⠇⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⣿⢿⣟⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠘⠀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

(▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⣶⣦⣤⣤⣤⡴⠶⣶⣦⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣶⣟⣛⣛⠛⠛⡻⢶⣦⣤⣤⣄⠈⣙⣻⣶⣤⠴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣛⡿⠟⠋⠉⠉⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⣝⣻⣦⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⣤⣄⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠇⠙⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠺⠿⣦⡀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠏⠁⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠈⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢙⠻⠷⢶⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣤⣴⠿⠛⠁⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⠷⣶⣾⣬⣭⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣶⣤⣴⣾⠛⠻⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡾⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡤⠶⠖⠛⠛⠛⠉⠙⠛⠛⠻⣿⣿⡿⠒⠶⠶⠶⠾⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡌⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⣴⣟⣀⣀⠀⣀⣠⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⢀⡀⢀⡀⢀⣀⣸⣧⣈⣷⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡟⠛⣿⣿⣟⣻⣛⣶⣟⣛⣷⣾⡏⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⡇⢸⡇⣿⣿⠛⣿⠻⣇⣿⣀⣀⣿⠀⠀⣿⠘⠛⣿⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣇⣼⣿⢿⣟⣛⡛⣿⠛⠛⣿⣿⣇⣀⣀⠘⢳⡞⢳⡞⠛⣿⢻⡄⣿⠀⠘⣿⣟⠛⣿⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⣿⠟⠁⠘⠛⠛⠋⠛⠁⠀⠛⠙⠛⠛⠋⠀⠘⠃⠘⠃⠀⠛⠘⣧⠛⠀⠀⠛⠙⠳⣿⡀⠀⠛⠀⠈⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠷⣦⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣴⣿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠻⠶⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣾⡿⢹⣇⠀⠙⢷⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣿⣶⣀ ⣸⠛⣷⡀⠻⣧⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⢿⣿⣷ ⠙⠀⠈⠃⠀⠈⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠘⠃⢻ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⠂⠁⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⠔⠁⢀⠴⠬⠥⣤⠬⠵⠄⠀⣠⢔⣒⣚⠳⡄⠀⠀ ⢀⠊⠀⠀⠘⠆⣀⠀⠉⣁⠭⠃⠀⠙⢄⠒⠛⠂⠩⡄⠀ ⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠁⠸⠀ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠤⠄⢠⠀⠸⠄⠀⡇ ⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠐⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃ ⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀ ⠀⠡⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠢⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠤⠊⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠒⠠⠤⠀⢈⣦⣤⣐⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠁⠈⡆⠀⠈⠑⢢⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⣁⣀⣠⡤⢴⠔⠒⠛⠹⠯⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠟⠏⠀⠀⢘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

(•_•) ( •_•)>⌐■-■ (⌐■_■)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⠶⠶⠶⠚⠛⠛⠳⠶⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣦⠀ ⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄ ⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⢶⣿⣿⣿⡻⠶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⡶⠶⢶⣄⠀⠀⢸⡇ ⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠹⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⠆⠀⣹⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⠶⠦⣤⣤⡤⠶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⣉⣁⣤⡶⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣏⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠃⣠⡀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸ ⠀⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠷⠆⠉⠑⠶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿ ⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇ ⠀⠀⢹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠷⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠶⠶⠦⣤⣤⣤⡤⠶⠞⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

╲⠀╲ ⋆⠀╲ ★⠀╲⠀╲ ★⋆⠀╲⠀ ⊹ ╲ ╲⠀╲ ☾⋆.˚ ⠀ ╲ ⋆｡ ⋆｡. ★⠀╲⠀╲ ★⠀ ╲⊹ 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟 ⋆.˚╲ ╲ 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 ⋆⠀╲ ⠀. ⊹ ⠀⠀ ★╲ ╲⠀╲ ╲⠀╲★ ⋆.˚ ⠀ ╲ ⋆｡. ╲. ★⠀╲ ★⠀⋆.˚╲⠀╲★

(⌐□_□)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟓𝟕𝟎 “Plankton can you at least come out and do the dishes?” Karen says. Her husband Plankton has been working at his desk, trying to plan and scheme. She brought him his meals for the past two days. He stayed up all night! “Honey?” No response. So she decided to go check on him. She goes to peek through the door. Plankton sat at his desk, slumped over, fast asleep. She saw his head nodded to the side, resting on his arm. A soft snore echoed in the silence. She noticed he was drooling a bit from his open mouth onto a stack of crumpled papers. Karen approached him. "Plankton," she cooed, placing her hand on his shoulder. He didn't budge. Karen gently shook him, but his snores grew louder. “C’mon, sweetie, time to wake up.” She whispered, but his sleep was unyielding. With a gentle tug on the shoulder, she managed to pull his body upright, a line of drool still connecting his mouth to the paper. "Come on, Plankton," she said more firmly, this time her hand on his cheek, her thumb wiping away the drool, head lolling backward with a snort. “Plankton, darling, please come to bed. You have been working so hard. Let’s get some rest,” she urged with a smile. But Plankton was too deeply asleep to hear her soft voice. His eye remained closed. With a sigh, Karen decided to get him up out of this chair herself. She took his arm and began to lift his weight from the chair. Plankton's body resisted, his head falling to her side with a dull thud. Karen chuckled, his snoring now vibrating. She managed to get him out of the chair. "Just a few steps, love," she murmured, but Plankton's snores grew like a crescendo in an orchestra. His limp body leaned into her like a ragdoll with no bones. She hoists him up on her shoulder, his arm dangling loosely, his snores growing rhythmic like a lullaby in a cartoon. The room was a mess, papers scattered like tiny white waves across the ocean of their living room. She stepped over them carefully, not wanting to wake his slumbering form. His office chair screeched as she pushed it aside with her foot, the sound like nails on a chalkboard in the quiet of the night. Plankton's arm slid off Karen's shoulder. She giggled nervously, his snoring now a symphony of sounds. She readjusted her grip, his head lolling against her. "Almost there," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with a mix of love and exasperation. The bedroom door creaked open like the entrance to a secret passage. Plankton's snores were a gentle soundtrack to the silent dance of her struggle. The bed looked like a mountain from here. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the climb. With his arm slung over her neck, his body limp, she began the ascent. Step by step, she inched closer. As she reached the bed, he slipped again, this time his head lolling back to hang over the edge of the mattress. “Oh no, you don’t!” she exclaimed, his weight making her stumble. With a laugh that was half exhaustion, half endearment, she tugged him up and laid him down gently. Karen watched his chest rise and fall in deep sleep. The room was dimly lit by the moon, his snores a soothing white noise in the quiet.

Dysgenesis in the brain can be a factor in autism spectrum disorders (ASD): Dendritic spine dysgenesis Atypical numbers and structures of dendritic spines in the central neurons of people with autism. This cellular pathology is also found in experimental mouse models of ASD. Cerebral cortical dysgenesis A malformation of the cerebral cortex that can occur when neural migration is defective during gestation. Symptoms include a thickened cortex, high neuronal density, and poor boundaries between the grey and white matter. Olfactory bulb dysgenesis A dysgenesis or agenesis of the olfactory bulbs and projection zones in the brain may contribute to ASD. Other neuroanatomical abnormalities in autism include: Agenesis of the superior olive, Dysgenesis of the facial nucleus, Reduced numbers of Purkinje neurons, and Hypoplasia of the brainstem and posterior cerebellum. ASD is a chronic condition with a wide range of symptoms, including difficulty with communication and social interactions, repetitive behaviors, and obsessive interests.

https://www.rcoa.ac.uk/sites/default/files/documents/2022-06/12-SedationExp2021web.pdf

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3378217/

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/snoring/symptoms-causes/syc-20377694

Muscles relax during sleep, including those in the face. The nervous system relaxes when we go into a deep sleep, which can also cause our facial muscles to relax. This can lead to our mouths falling open and drool escaping from the sides of our mouths. Also saliva can spill out of your mouth as drool when your facial muscles relax in your sleep like if the mouth falls open. Since the muscles around your mouth are relaxed, your mouth can be relaxed enough that saliva slips out. Once in sleep cycle, your body’s muscles, including those in your face and mouth, start to relax, often resulting in less swallowing and more drool. But sometimes when you're asleep, your brain forgets to tell your throat and mouth muscles to swallow, causing saliva to commute from your mouth to your pillow. As you sleep, your body enters a state of relaxation and restoration. This means that your muscles relax – including all of the muscles and tissues in the airway. When these tissues relax, they may fall back into the airway, partially blocking your ability to breathe normally. Sometimes causes your throat to compress as your tongue falls further back into your airway and the open space behind your tongue and soft palate is reduced. Inhaled air becomes turbulent. Directly inhaled air vibrates the soft tissues at the back of your mouth Though breathing is an involuntary function and it may be difficult to control how your breathe while sleeping, if you sleep on your side, the saliva collects in the side of your mouth and the reflex does not kick in to get rid of the drool. However, if you sleep on your back, saliva collects in the back of the throat and leads to automatic swallowing action. If you breathe through partially blocked nose, greater suction forces are created that can cause your throat to collapse and bring on snoring where your uvula and soft palate start to flap. When we fall asleep, many muscles in our body relax. This is true of the muscles in our airway, since not fully conscious. When you doze off and progress from a light sleep to a deep sleep, the muscles in the roof of your mouth (soft palate), tongue and/or throat relax more. This usually happens when the muscles in your body (including your face) relax during sleep, especially during your REM cycle. When this happens, your jaw falls slack and your mouth falls open.

ᴵⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ‘ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵛᵒᵘʳⁱᵗᵉ!’ ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ ‘ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ!’ ‘ᵀᵒ ᵘˢ‧‧’ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴴᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ, ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ, ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ’ᵐ ᵘᵖ!” ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ ‘ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʷʰᵒ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˡᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ! ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢⁿᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧ “ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵉᵃᵐ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧” ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ, ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᴳᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ! ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴷⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ, ᵏⁱᵈ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ…” “ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ˢⁱˡˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ…” ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ “ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴵ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ‧ “ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ⁿᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʳᵉˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ; ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵃᵗ ‘ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ’ ʳⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒⁱˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃʷᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᵂⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍʰ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ‧ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴼʰ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ…” ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ʷʰᵃᵗ…” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢᵃʸˢ ‘ᴵ ʰⁱᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴺᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ‧ “ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ?” “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᵂᵃⁱᵗ, ʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ…’ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ᴿᵒᶜᵏ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ’ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴼʰ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵛᵉʳ, ʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢⁿ’ᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ; ᵒ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ!” “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧ ᴵ’ᵈ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ; ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ, ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ʳⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧

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(▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

r/TwoSentenceSadness 3 yr. ago PistachioPug People say I'm not disabled, I'm neurodivergent. Somehow the fancy label doesn't make me feel any better about all the things I wish I were able to do.

https://www.femininesexualalchemy.com/blog/smear-test

RED or BROWN bloody discharge is common during menstruation. Colors might range from cherry red at the beginning of your period to rusty brown. Some people have irregular periods and spotting. Others experience spotting due to their birth control method or hormonal changes. A variety of WHITE shades of discharge, from eggshell to cream, can be common. White discharge can occur for many of the same reasons as Clear discharge. It’s simply natural lubrication. As it cleans itself, it produces a WHITE or CLEAR discharge. Hormonal changes during your menstrual cycle can affect said discharge. Mucus can turn YELLOW when it comes into contact with the air. Very light yellow discharge is more common than you might think. Sometimes the color is daffodil yellow. Other times it’s more of a GREEN chartreuse. If you know you’re probably in the clear (as in it’s a one-off occurrence), what you eat could affect the color. Some people report this color change occurring whenever they take new vitamins or try certain foods. PINK discharge, ranging from a very light blush to the deep pink of a sunset, is often just a sign of the beginning of your menstrual period. Some people may periodically experience light bleeding after penetration.

https://www.cancer.gov/news-events/cancer-currents-blog/2020/cervical-cancer-screening-hpv-test-guideline#:~:text=ACS%20recommends%20cervical%20cancer%20screening,Pap%20test%20every%203%20years.

COMPUTER SENSORS vi ** ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * "It's like his brain turned up the volume on everything," Hanna murmurs, finally understanding the gravity of Plankton's condition. "Exactly," Karen says, her voice still low and soothing. "It's a constant barrage of sensory information for him." Hanna nods, her gaze shifting from Plankton to Karen. "What exactly happened when I...I jabbed him?" "It's like his brain took a brief vacation from reality." She pauses, collecting her thoughts. "It's a sudden break from consciousness, usually triggered by a sensory overload. In Plankton's case, it's often unexpected, like a surprise party his brain wasn't ready for." "So, when I jabbed him during the game, it was like...like I flipped a switch?" Karen's expression is a mix of sadness and patience. "More like turned up the volume on an amp that was already at max," she says. "It's like his brain took a short break from processing all the sensory input." "Oh," she whispers, her voice a soft echo of regret. "I had no idea." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton. "It's not something that's easy to explain," she says, her voice a gentle wave. "It's like when you're trying to listen to someone in a crowded room. Sometimes the noise just gets too much, and you have to tune out for a second to keep from getting overwhelmed." Hanna nods, glued to Plankton's sleeping form. "But what happened earlier," she whispers. "When he went to his room?" Karen's gaze follows Hanna's to Plankton, understanding dawns on her face. "Oh, you noticed," she says gently. "His sensory overloads can be gradual. Sometimes it's like a pot boiling over, but other times it's more like a slow simmer that gets out of control." "What do you mean?" Karen's gaze remains on Plankton, her voice a gentle wave. "It's like earlier," she explains. "In the bedroom. He was getting overwhelmed, but it was happening so gradually, he didn't realize it." She looks at Hanna, filled with the patience of experience. "It's like when you're in a conversation and someone keeps talking louder and louder, and you don't notice until you're shouting just to be heard." Hanna nods with understanding. "So, when it's a sudden thing?" "It's like a thunderstorm," Karen says, her voice a gentle explanation. "Loud, intense, and overwhelming. But the gradual buildup is more like a slow-moving fog, thickening until it's hard to breathe." She looks at Hanna with quiet strength. "Today in the bedroom, it was like that. The sounds, the light, even the smells...it was all too much for him. But he couldn't tell you. He just had to retreat." Hanna nods reflecting her dawning comprehension. "So, when he went to his room, he was trying to get away from it all?" Karen's smile is sad but knowing. "Yes," she whispers. "His room is his sanctuary. He's got it set up just right— dim lights and all his favorite things. It's where he goes to recharge, to escape the storm when it gets too loud." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. She can see now how the simple act of playing a board game had become a tempest for him. How the jovial jab had sent him spiraling into a sensory hurricane. She feels a pang of regret for not noticing the signs sooner, for not understanding the delicate balance he maintained every day. "How do you know when touch helps him?" Hanna asks, her voice a soft inquiry. "I mean, if he can't tell you?" It's all about reading his cues," she whispers. "Sometimes, it's the tension. Other times, it's the way his pupil reacts to stimuli." She pauses, her gaze lingering on Plankton's sleeping form. "And sometimes, it's just a feeling." "How can I get better at that?" she asks, her voice earnest. "How can I support him without making things worse?" Karen's smile is warm, filled with gratitude for Hanna's willingness to learn. "It takes time," she says gently. "But the key is to pay attention to his reactions, his body language. If he flinches or withdraws, that's a sign that what you're doing isn't helping. But if he relaxes or moves closer, then you know you're on the right track." Hanna nods, still on Plankton's sleeping form. "But what if I miss the signs?" she asks, her voice a soft echo of fear. "What if I hurt him again?" Karen's hand squeezes hers reassuringly. "You're already doing so much better than most. It's just about learning to read his body language, his reactions." Hanna nods, still on Plankton. "What about when he's asleep?" she asks, her voice a soft concern. "How do you know if he's comfortable?" "It's all in the subtleties," Karen explains, her gaze shifting from Plankton to Hanna. "If he's tense, if curled tightly, then I know to be careful. But if he's relaxed, loose or reaching out...that's when I know it's safe to touch him." Hanna nods, taking in the information. She watches as Plankton starts to stir. "He's waking up," Karen whispers, her voice a soft breeze in the quiet room. She watches as Plankton twitch, his eye slowly opening. The panic from earlier is gone, replaced with a soft curiosity as he looks around the room. "Hey, buddy," Karen says, her voice a soothing lullaby. "How are you feeling?" Plankton blinks slowly, moving to rub his eye. "Tired," he murmurs, his voice a hoarse whisper. Hanna clenches at the sound, but she remains still, not wanting to disturb him. "Do you need anything?" she asks, her voice a soft echo of concern. Plankton's gaze shifts to her, his pupil dilating slightly. He seems to consider her words before shaking his head. "Just...quiet," he says, his voice a whisper in the stillness. Hanna feels a strange sense of responsibility, a need to protect him from the world that can be so unforgiving to those who are different. She watches as he blinks slowly, moving slightly as if testing the waters of consciousness. Karen's smile is a soft glow of gratitude. "Just sit with us," she says, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "Your presence is enough." "I swear we were just playing a game, and..." he asks, his voice still a whisper. Hanna nods of guilt and empathy. "I know," she says. "I'm sorry." Plankton reaches out, touching her arm lightly. "It's ok," he whispers. "I just...I need time." Hanna nods, brimming with unshed tears. "I'm here," she says, her voice a soft promise. "I'll be quiet as a mouse." Plankton's grip tightens around her arm for a moment, a silent thank you, before releasing its grip. He sits up slowly, wrapping around himself like a self-made blanket. Karen watches him with a knowing gaze, her heart aching for his pain but also swelling with pride at his resilience. "Let's get you water to drink," Karen says, her voice a gentle breeze that doesn't disturb the peacefulness of the room. She rises and heads to the kitchen, leaving Hanna and Plankton in the cocoon of quiet understanding. Hanna nods, still on Plankton as he slowly unravels from his protective ball. She feels the weight of his gaze on her, a silent question, and she meets it with a smile tinged with sadness. "You're ok," she whispers, her voice a soft caress in the hushed room. The kitchen door clicks shut behind Karen, leaving Hanna and Plankton in the gentle embrace of the dim light from the fireplace. The silence stretches out like a warm blanket, comforting and safe. Plankton reaches for the blanket, pulling it tighter around his shoulders. Hanna takes a deep breath, the scent of the fireplace mixing with the faint aroma of their earlier dinner. "I'm really sorry," she says, her voice a gentle breeze. "I had no idea." Plankton nods, loosening slightly. "It's ok," he whispers. "Not your fault." The warmth from the fireplace creates a serene ambiance, the flickering light casting shadows across the room. Hanna watches as Plankton begins to move again, a sign that he's slowly coming back to the present moment. "What can I do to make it up to you?" she asks, her voice a soft thread of hope in the quiet. Plankton considers her question, his tentacles stroking the blanket in a rhythmic pattern. "Just...just be there," he murmurs, his eye closing briefly. "And maybe next time, we can find a different way to play." Hanna nods, her heart heavy with the weight of her mistake. "I'd like that," she says softly. "I'd really like that."

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS vii (Autistic Author) The film starts, and for a while, the only sound is the muffled dialogue and the occasional sniffle from Chip. Karen's hand finds its way to Plankton's, giving it a gentle squeeze. He flinches at first but then relaxes slightly, allowing her contact. Plankton's antennae still and he turns to look at Chip, who's staring at the screen, lost in the fantasy. Karen watches them both, torn between anger and pity. She knows Plankton's anger isn't directed at Chip, but it's hard to see her son hurt. The movie plays on, the sound of laughter and adventure a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over them. Plankton's antennae twitch as he glances at Chip, his eye flickering with regret. Karen feels the tension in the room begin to ease as Chip becomes engrossed in the film. He shifts closer to Plankton, seeking comfort without words. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, and he sighs, his grip on the armrest of the couch tightening. The film starts, and for a while, the only sound is the muffled dialogue and the occasional sniffle from Chip. Karen's hand finds its way to Plankton's, giving it a gentle squeeze. He flinches at first but then relaxes slightly, allowing her contact. Plankton's antennae still and he turns to look at Chip, who's staring at the screen, lost in the fantasy. Karen watches them both, torn between anger and pity. She knows Plankton's anger isn't directed at Chip, but it's hard to see her son hurt. The movie plays on, the sound of laughter and adventure a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over them. Plankton's antennae twitch as he glances at Chip, his eye flickering with regret. Karen feels the tension in the room begin to ease as Chip becomes engrossed in the film. He shifts closer to Plankton, seeking comfort without words. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, and he sighs, his grip on the armrest of the couch tightening. During a particularly suspenseful scene, Chip reaches out and grabs Plankton's arm instinctively. But the sudden touch sends Plankton spiraling. His antennae shoot up, and he starts to shake uncontrollably. "Daddy?" Chip asks, his grip tightening in concern. Plankton's body jolts, his antennae flailing wildly as his eye roll back. "Daddy!" Chip's voice is filled with fear as he clutches his father's arm tighter. Plankton's tremors only worsen, his body convulsing in a way that's both frightening and heartbreaking. Karen's realizes what's happening. "Chip, let go!" she cries. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his voice trembling with fear. Plankton's shaking becomes more intense, his antennae flailing as if trying to escape the confines of his own body. His mouth opens in a silent scream. Karen's knows this isn't a ‘seizure’ but something else entirely—a meltdown, a result of the overwhelming emotions he's been trying to hold in. She rushes to his side with worry. "Chip, let go of him," she says, her voice urgent. Plankton's shaking becomes more intense, his antennae thrashing about like seaweed in a storm. Karen quickly moves closer, her own hands gentle as she pries Chip's tight grip from Plankton's arm. "Chip, sweetie, let Daddy breathe," she says, her voice firm yet filled with empathy. "What's wrong with him?" he stammers, voice trembling. Karen's full of sadness as she takes Chip into her arms, gently peeling him away from Plankton's convulsing form. "It's ok, baby," she murmurs, her voice a lifeline in the chaos. "Daddy's just having a hard time right now." Her movements are swift and sure as she guides Chip away from the couch, her gaze never leaving Plankton. His body is still racked with tremors, his antennae a wild mess of emotions. She knows that touch can be overwhelming for Plankton in moments like these, so she keeps her distance, giving him the space he needs. "Why is he doing that?" Chip whispers, his voice shaky with fear. Karen's heart aches as she holds him close, trying to shield him from the harshness of the world. "It's called a meltdown, sweetie," she explains gently, her voice a soothing balm. "Sometimes, when some neurodivergent people get really upset or overwhelmed, their bodies may react like this." Karen's on Plankton, who's still trembling on the couch, his antennae a blur of distress. She knows he needs space, yet her instinct is to comfort him. With Chip in her arms, she keeps a safe distance, speaking softly so as not to add to the sensory overload. "Plankton," she says, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "It's ok. Just breathe." Plankton's body continues to spasm, his antennae a frantic tapestry of emotions. Karen's filled with a fierce determination as she carefully approaches him, her movements slow and calculated to avoid triggering more distress. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a gentle lullaby amidst the chaos. "I'm here." Slowly, his antennae begin to still, his body calming as he registers her presence. "It's ok," she repeats. With trembling hands, she reaches out to stroke his back, the barest touch. Plankton's body relaxes slightly, his breaths coming in deep, shaky gasps. "Just breathe," she whispers again, her hand moving in a soothing rhythm. "It's ok, you're ok." Plankton's antennae slow their erratic dance, his body following suit. The tremors subside, leaving him drained and panting. "Daddy?" Chip whispers, peering over Karen's shoulder. Karen nods, still on Plankton. "He's ok now," she says softly. "It's just his brain's way of letting out all the big feelings." Chip watches, his grip on Karen tightening. "Is he going to be ok?" he asks, his voice small. Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "Yes," she murmurs. "Just give him a moment." The room is silent except for Plankton's uneven breathing. The colors from the TV flicker across their faces, painting them in a strange, unsettling light. Karen can feel Chip's little heart beating against hers, and she knows he's scared. "It's ok," she whispers again, her voice a beacon of calm in the storm. "Daddy just needs some time." Plankton's antennae droop, his body finally still. His eye meets hers, a silent apology in the depths of his gaze. Karen nods, her hand still on his back, offering assurance without words. "Chip," she says, her voice still low, "can you go to your room for a bit?" He nods, eyes still glued to his father, but he doesn't protest. With a heavy heart, Karen watches her son disappear down the corridor, the door clicking shut behind him. Turning her full attention to Plankton, she sits down beside him, her hand resting lightly on his back. His breathing is still ragged, his antennae barely moving. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his voice hoarse. Karen nods with understanding. "We'll talk to him," she says gently. "But first, let's make sure you're ok." Plankton's body still trembling slightly. Karen keeps her hand on his back, her touch a silent promise that she's there for him. Karen's hand moves in gentle circles, trying to soothe him. "You don't have to apologize," she says firmly. "You are who you are, and we love you for it." Plankton's antennae twitch, and he looks up at her, his single eye brimming with unshed tears. "But I don't know how to be a good dad like this," he chokes out. Karen's heart breaks at his words, but she keeps her voice steady. "You're already a great dad, Plankton," she says. "You just need to find a way to show Chip that." He looks at her, hope and doubt warring in his expression. "How?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Karen takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "By teaching him," she says gently. "By letting him in, just like you're letting us in now." Plankton's antennae droop, and he nods. "I know," he says, his voice filled with regret. "But it's hard. I don't want him to see me like this." Karen squeezes his hand. "He already does," she says gently. "And he loves you anyway."

Because sedatives can increase dopamine, some patients do wake up from anesthesia feeling good and assuming that means they’re “well-rested” but no, it can’t replace sleep. Sedation vs. sleep puts the brain in different states. During sleep, the brain moves between the slow waves of non-REM sleep and the fast waves of REM sleep. Under general anesthesia, brain rhythms are held hostage in the same state. The brain waves become so structured and regimented that they can’t transmit information, resulting in profound unconsciousness and amnesia. That’s why under full sedation, we don’t dream.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY v (By NeuroFabulous) Karen held Plankton tightly, his sobs shaking both of them. "It's okay," she murmured, stroking his back. "You're still my husband. You're still Chip's dad." Her voice was a salve to his soul, but the wound was deep. In Chip's room, the silence was deafening. He sat on his bed, staring at the wall, his thoughts racing. He had never meant to hurt Plankton like that. He had just wanted his dad to be like everyone else's. He didn't understand why it had to be so hard. Outside, the sound of Karen trying to comfort Plankton's sobs drifted under the door, each one a knife in Chip's heart. He had never heard his dad cry before, and it made him feel like the biggest jerk in the sea. What had he done? He didn't want Plankton to go anywhere. He just wanted all to be okay. He sat on his bed, his eyes blurring with tears as he tried to piece together what had just happened. His mind raced with thoughts of his dad, his hero, his rock, now a crumbling mess in his mother's arms. He couldn't bear to think of the pain he had caused. He stood up, his legs shaking slightly as he approached the door. Karen looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and tired, but filled with a fierce love that never wavered. Plankton was still sobbing into her shoulder, his body trembling with the force of his pain. Chip felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest tight with regret. "I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice small and shaky. "I didn't mean it. I just..." But the words trailed off, his throat thick with unshed tears. Karen looked up at him, her eyes brimming with a mix of love and disappointment. "Chip," she said, her voice firm but gentle, "you need to understand. Your dad can't just turn his autism off." She took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving Chip's. "And we love him just the way he is." Plankton's body convulsed with each sob, his fear palpable in the tiny room. He had always known his condition set him apart, but to hear his son say such things... It was more than he could bear. Karen looked at Chip, her expression a mix of anger and sadness. "Chip, what you said was hurtful," she began, her voice shaking with emotion. "But you need to know that your dad's autism is just part of who he is." Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his body slowly calming down as he heard Karen's words. He knew she was right, but the fear remained, a cold knot in his stomach. Fear of rejection, fear of being seen as a burden, fear of losing the ones he loved most. Chip's eyes were glued to the floor, the weight of his words pressing down on him like a heavy stone. He felt like a monster, a creature that had lashed out without thought for the consequences. He took a tentative step forward. "Dad," he whispered, his voice choking with tears. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it." Plankton's convulsions slowly subsided, his body still tense against Karen's embrace. His eye was closed tightly, as if trying to block out the painful reality. Plankton's convulsions grew less intense, his body slowly relaxing into Karen's embrace. His breathing was ragged, his antennas quivering slightly with each exhale. The look in his eye spoke volumes, a swirl of emotions that seemed to mirror the turmoil in Chip's own heart. The room was a stark contrast to the chaotic underwater world outside, the silence interrupted only by the occasional sniffle from Plankton. Karen's gaze never left Chip's face, her expression a mix of love and disappointment. "Your father's autism is a part of him, Chip," she continued, her voice measured. "It's like his brain has its own language, and sometimes it's hard for him to translate it to ours. But that doesn't make him any less of a person, or any less of a dad." Chip felt a knot in his stomach, his regret growing with every word Karen said. He had never thought about it like that before—his dad wasn't broken or weird, just different. And he had hurt him so badly. "But I just want him to be normal," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why ca--" "Normal?" Plankton's voice was harsher than Chip had ever heard it. He pulled away from Karen, his eye blazing with a fierce intensity. "Chip, maybe you're the one who needs to leave.." "Plankton," Karen said, her voice a plea. "This isn't helping." But Plankton's face was a mask of pain and anger. Chip's heart raced, his dad's words cutting deeper than any insult he had ever heard. "Dad," he said, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean it." But Plankton was beyond reason, his emotions a swirling maelstrom of anger and hurt. "Get out," he said, his voice cold and final. Karen's eyes widened with shock, but she knew better than to argue with him when he was like this. She stood, carefully setting Plankton aside. He didn't move, just sat there, his body rigid with pain. "Come on, Chip," she said gently, her hand on his shoulder. "Let's give your dad some space." Chip's eyes were filled with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of his father's pain. He didn't know what to do, his mind racing with fear and regret. He allowed Karen to lead him out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them, leaving Plankton alone with his thoughts.

r/TwoSentenceSadness icon Go to TwoSentenceSadness r/TwoSentenceSadness 2 yr. ago TransParentCJ I had never understood how everyone else seemed to ignore the buzzing g sound of electricity everywhere they went; it was deafening to me. The doctors sent volt after volt of that same loud, excruciating electricity through my brain now, in some attempt to "cure" me.

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY i (By NeuroFabulous) Chip and his friend Alex go to the Chum Bucket, where Chip lives with his parents Karen and Plankton. Chip had been looking forward to this moment all week. His friend Alex, the new kid in school, was finally coming over to his place. Chip's thought about the endless possibilities of what they could do together. Would they play video games? Maybe build a fort? Or, if they were lucky, his mom Karen might let them have ice cream before dinner.. The door swung open. "Welcome to the Chum Bucket," Chip said with a proud smile, leading Alex inside. Karen looked up from her book. "Hi," Alex said nervously. Karen's eyes widened. "Oh, hello!" She hadn't been expecting company. But she put down her book. "You must be Alex!" Alex nodded. "Hi, Chip's mom," they mumbled. "Just call me Karen, sweetie," she replied, her voice as warm as a freshly baked pie. "You two have fun!" She turned back to her book, her screen dancing with curiosity as they climbed the stairs. Chip's room was at the end of the hall, but they weren't going there yet. "C'mon," he whispered to Alex, his screen sparkling with excitement. "I want to show you my Dad!" He led him to the bed room door. They tiptoed closer. Plankton's on the bed. Alex peered around the doorframe, their curiosity piqued. "Surprise!" Chip shouted, jumping forward. Plankton's antennas shot straight up, a mix of shock and annoyance. But Plankton didn't move. He remained frozen in place, his eye vacant and unblinking. Alex took a step back, concerned. Chip's excitement faded into puzzlement. "Dad?" he called out, nudging Plankton's arm. No response, not even a twitch. They both stared at him, the room silent except for the faint buzz of a neon sign outside. Plankton's body was rigid. Chip felt a twinge of fear. This wasn't like his dad, who was always bursting with ideas and energy. Alex's grip on the doorknob tightened. They approached the bed slowly. Plankton remained unblinking. "Dad, are you ok?" Chip asked, his voice cracking. He reached out to shake him gently. Plankton's arm was cold and stiff, like a mannequin. Chip's heart raced. He'd never seen his dad like this before. Alex's eyes widened in alarm, their grip on the doorknob turning white. They stepped back, exchanging glances. "Chip, what's going on?" Alex whispered, fear seeping into their voice. Chip's eyes searched the room, his heart racing. "I don't know," he replied, "but we have to do something!" He rushed to the bedside, his hands trembling as he touched his dad's face. "Dad! Dad!" Alex hovered near the door, unsure of what to do. "Should we get your mom?" Chip nodded, his voice shaking. "Yeah, we need to tell." They both bolted out of the room and sprinted down the stairs. "Mom!" Chip yelled, "Something's wrong with Dad!" Karen looked up from her book, her face puzzled. "What do you mean, Chip?" But when she saw the look on his face, she set the book aside and followed them upstairs. In Plankton's room, she paused. The silence was heavy, and the tension was almost palpable. She could see the fear in Chip's eyes, mirrored in Alex's wide gaze. They pointed to the bed, where Plankton still sat, unmoving. Karen took a deep breath. She had known about Plankton's secret for years—his autism. But moments like these were always difficult to navigate. "It's okay," she assured them, her tone calm and steady. "Sometimes Daddy has these moments where he goes into his own world. It's part of who he is." She approached the bed slowly, her movements deliberate and gentle. Plankton's chest rose and fell with his breath, but he didn't acknowledge their presence. Karen placed a hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Plankton?" she called softly, her voice barely a whisper in the quiet room. No response. Her heart ached for her husband, trapped in his own thoughts. She had learned over the years to recognize the signs of his episodes, but seeing him like this never got easier. Carefully, Karen sat down beside him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "It's okay, sweetie," she murmured, her voice soothing. "You're safe." Slowly, she began to rub his back in small, comforting circles. Chip and Alex watched, silent and worried, from the doorway. Minutes ticked by like hours. Karen's gentle persistence never wavered. Then, almost imperceptibly, Plankton's shoulders relaxed, his eye blinking back into focus. He looked around the room, bewildered. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. Chip and Alex breathed out in relief. Karen smiled warmly, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "It's okay, honey," she said, her voice a lullaby. "You're back with us." Plankton's gaze found hers, his mind slowly returning from its solitary adventure. He looked from her to the two in the doorway, confusion etched on his face. Alex took a tentative step forward, their heart still racing. "Are you okay?" Plankton blinked. "What happened?" Plankton managed to ask, his voice scratchy from his silent reverie. Karen stood, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "You had one of your episodes, sweetheart," she explained gently. "But it's okay. You're back now." Chip stepped into the room, his eyes brimming with relief. "What's an episode?" Alex asked softly, their curiosity overcoming their fear. Karen turned to them, her expression gentle. "It's like his brain goes on a little trip," she said, trying to simplify it. "It's part of him. Sometimes he needs time to come back." Alex nodded, their eyes still glued to Plankton. "Does he know he does it?" they asked, their curiosity genuine. Karen squeezed Plankton's hand. "He knows, honey," she explained. "But sometimes it's like he can't stop it." Chip felt a pang of sadness, his earlier excitement now replaced with a deep concern for his father. He knew that his dad was different from other parents, but he had never seen him like this. It was as if Plankton had been taken from them for a brief moment, leaving a shell in his place.