Antiabortion Emojis & Text

Over a century ago, the woman was encouraged to keep her child after she's considering pregnancy termination. "your baby could be an artist or grow up to be a world leader" they had said, so she kept it and went to give birth to a baby boy c. 1888 He's named Adolf

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Gallantmirth I watched the monster's jagged claws inch slowly out from under the bed. "I won't let him in again, I promise" it assured me as my dad crept to the room.

“Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here.” —Alice in Wonderland.

I miss my papa ✨ I really wish I didn't poison him

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago _FallenAngel__ A genie granted me my wish to become the most beautiful woman in the world forever Now I sit here in a museum, frozen in a painting for the past 500 years as people passing by admire and faun over my timeless beauty

I found myself opening a door in the basement and then I saw the endless cavern of hour-glasses as far as the eye could see. The closest to the door had the names of my family members etched on them. I saw the sand in my parent’s hour-glasses about to run out. I called them and told them to not get on the plane. The sand in the hour-glasses refilled. —Human_Gravy

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣴⣧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀ ⢴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷ ⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⡿⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣻⡿⣶⢦⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢽⣟⣷⣻⣯⣟⣷⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠺⣟⣾⣽⣾⣳⣟⡿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢾⣳⣯⢿⣽⣟⣾⢿⣆⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢹⡿⣾⣽⣾⣻⡽⣿⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⣯⢿⣽⣻⢯⣿⣟⡿⣿⣶⡾⣷⢶⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢻⣞⡷⣿⣽⢯⣿⡽⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⣿⣽⣻⣯⡷⣿⣻⢷⣯⢿⣳⣯⢿⡽⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣳⣯⣿⣳⡿⣯⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣽⣻⢷⣯⡷⣿⡽⣷⣟⡿⣾⣟⣯⣟⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣳⣯⣷⣟⡿⣾⣽⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣳⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⢷⣟⡿⣞⣿⣳⣯⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⣻⢾⣟⣷⣻⣞⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣻⢾⣽⣳⡿⣽⣷⣻⣟⣾⣟⣿⣳⣟⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣽⡿⣞⣯⣷⢿⣽⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣟⣷⣻⣯⣟⡷⣿⣻⢾⣽⣾⣻⢾⣳⡿⣽⢯⣧⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡿⣽⣻⢾⣯⢿⣽⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⣟⣷⣻⣾⣻⢾⣽⣻⢷⣟⣯⣷⢯⣟⣿⣽⣻⢯⣿⣽⢾⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣽⣻⣟⣾⣟⣷⣻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣾⢯⣷⢿⡽⣯⡿⣽⢿⣞⡿⣾⡛⠻⢾⣳⣿⣻⢷⣯⡿⣞⣿⣻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣞⣷⣟⣷⣻⡾⣯⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢽⣯⢿⣯⣟⣯⡿⣯⢿⠙⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣿⣻⣾⡽⣟⣷⣟⡷⣟⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣽⣾⣻⢾⣽⣻⢷⣻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣾⣽⣳⣿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣯⢿⣻⣾⣽⣻⢯⣷⢿⡾⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣳⣯⣟⣯⡿⣽⣻⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠺⠿⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⣿⣞⡷⣿⣻⣽⣯⢿⣻⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣟⣾⡽⣷⣟⡿⣽⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣻⢷⣯⡿⣷⣻⡾⣽⡷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⣾⣽⣻⢷⣻⣽⣟⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠻⡿⣾⣽⢷⡿⣽⣯⣟⣯⣿⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣯⢷⣻⣽⣟⣯⡷⣟⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢽⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⣳⣯⣟⡿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⣽⣻⣯⢷⣻⣽⣻⢯⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠿⣻⡷⣯⣟⣾⣽⣻⢷⣻⣧⣆⣰⡿⣽⣟⣷⣻⣟⣯⣷⢿⡻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣽⣻⡾⣽⣯⢿⣯⢷⣟⣯⣿⣻⢾⡽⣷⢯⣟⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⢿⣽⣳⡿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣿⣻⢾⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⢾⣽⣟⡿⣽⣟⣯⡗⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡿⣷⣤⣀⣴⡿⣽⣻⡾⣯⣟⣷⣻⢷⣆⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣨⣟⡿⣾⣽⣻⢷⣟⣯⣷⣟⡿⣽⣾⡻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣽⣾⣻⢷⣟⣿⣳⢿⣽⣻⣞⡿⣯⣟⡿⣿⢶⣤⣠⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣾⢿⣯⢿⣽⡷⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⢾⣽⣻⣟⡾⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣟⣷⣻⣟⣾⢯⣏⠀⠉⢷⣿⣻⣽⡾⣿⡽⣯⡿⣽⢯⣟⣿⣻⣟⣯⡿⣽⣻⡾⣽⣟⣾⣟⡷⣟⣯⡿⣽⡷⣿⢯⣟⣷⣻⣽⣯⢿⣽⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡾⣟⣷⣯⣟⣷⣯⣟⡿⣾⢧⠀⠀⠉⠳⣿⡽⣷⣟⣯⢿⣯⢿⣻⣞⣷⣯⡷⣿⣻⢷⣟⡿⣾⣽⢾⣻⢿⣽⣻⣽⣻⡽⣟⡿⣞⣯⡷⣟⣿⣞⣷⣻⢷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡴⣯⣷⢿⣯⡷⣟⣾⢷⠃⠈⠙⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠓⠯⣿⣻⡾⣟⣯⢿⣞⡷⣿⢯⣟⡿⣾⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣿⡞⠏⠃⠁⠀⠀⠙⠻⣽⣻⣟⣾⣽⣾⣻⣟⡿⣿⣆⠀⠀ ⠀⣰⣯⢿⣻⡾⣟⣾⣽⢿⡽⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠋⠛⠯⠿⣽⣻⣯⣿⣽⡷⠟⠷⠛⠋⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⣾⣟⣾⣳⢿⣞⣿⣳⢿⣳⣄ ⣼⡿⣽⣻⡷⣟⣿⡽⣾⡛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢷⡿⣯⢿⣞⣿⣻⢯⣿ ⣿⣽⣟⡷⣿⣻⢷⣻⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣯⢿⣞⣯⠿⠋ ⠘⠷⣯⡿⣷⡻⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠉⠀⠀

The Portraits (a.k.a. The Cabin in the Woods) Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / April 20, 2009 / 1 minute of reading There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage... April 20, 2009 / Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / anonymously authored, cabins, camping, creepypasta classics, forests, hunters, mysteries, sites, twist endings, woods / 1 minute of reading Estimated reading time — < 1 minute There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell in to a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had not portraits, only windows.

r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago sp00kyscary They're just so darn cute I love being a 2nd grade teacher. The kids in my class are so cute and innocent. They're at the perfect age. I used to teach sixth grade, but I quickly realised how that it was a mistake, whence cliques form, the bullying flourishes, and kids learnt how to be terrible to each other. By then, they're corrupted by bad role models, no respect for authority and no desire to learn. No; 2nd grade children are far better! The parents are still making an attempt to shield them from the harshness of the world. They look at me with wide eyes, eager to learn, taking in all I share with them. My favourite day, is Valentine's Day. They make little paper packets they place on their desks to be filled with cards and/or candy. This year, I baked some delicious cookies at home and I arrived early to deliver one to each student. I’m so excited to see the reactions. I smile all morning. I smile as the kids arrive, dressed in red and pink. I smile as they happily tear into their construction paper holders to see what's inside. I smile as they give me an adorable thank-you once they see the cookies I've made them. I smile as they bite into them. And I smile as they one by one fall to the ground, shaking and turning blue. After all, they're at such a cute age. It would be a shame to let them grow up.

ᴱᵘˢᵗᵃᶜᵉ ᔆᵃᵐᵘᵉˡ ᴬˢᑫᵘⁱᵗʰ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ¹⁸⁸⁷ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ⁴ ᴬᵖʳ ¹⁸⁸⁹ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ¹–²⁾ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴸᵉᵉᵈˢ ᴳᵉⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᴸᵉᵉᵈˢ⸴ ᴹᵉᵗʳᵒᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵃⁿ ᴮᵒʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠ ᴸᵉᵉᵈˢ⸴ ᵂᵉˢᵗ ʸᵒʳᵏˢʰⁱʳᵉ⸴ ᴱⁿᵍˡᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᴸᴼᵀ ²⁰³⁶ ᴳʳᵃᵛᵉˢⁱᵗᵉ ᴰᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ ᴬᵍᵉ⠘ ² ʸᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃᶜᵉ⠘ ᴿⁱᶜᶜᵃˡˡ⸴ ᴬᵇᵒᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶜᵉ⠘ ⁴ ᴼᵃᵗᵉˢ ᔆᑫᵘᵃʳᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴼᶠ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵘˡˢⁱᵒⁿˢ⸴ ᵀʳᵃᵈᵉ⠘ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ⸴ ᴳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ⠘ ᴹ⸴ ᴿᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⠘ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᴴᵉʳᵇᵉʳᵗ ᴬᔆᑫᵁᴵᵀᴴ & ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᴬᔆᑫᵁᴵᵀᴴ⸴ ᴿᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ¹ ᵀʳᵃᵈᵉ⠘ ᴮᵘᵗᶜʰᵉʳ⸴ ⁸ ᴬᵖʳ ¹⁸⁸⁹ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ

ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵀᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵀᵒᵘʳⁱˢᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳⁱᶜʰ ʳᵉᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵀʳᵃⁱˡ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵃˣ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᶠ‧ ᴷᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᴬ ⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵒⁿᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧” ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵍᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ⸴ ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ‘ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ’ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ʷⁱⁿᵈʸ ᵃᵘᵗᵘᵐⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ⸴ ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ⁱᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ⸴ ᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈᵃᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ; ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴰᵃⁿ ᵂⁱˡˢᵒⁿ⠘ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴬ ˡᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴬˡᵒʸˢⁱᵘˢ⸴ ᴱᵈʷⁱⁿᵃ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴺᵃᵗʰᵃⁿⁱᵃˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᴵ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵉ? ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ⠘ ᴰᵉᵃʳ ᴮʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴬᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵂⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴼᵘʳ ᴮᵃᵇʸ – ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ⸴ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁵⁰ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ ᵒʷᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧

⣿⠋⢛⡛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⣭⣭⠽⠿⠿⠿⣿⣭⡉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉ ⣿⠀⢿⠿⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⢾⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠖ ⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣌⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠙⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀ ⣇⠀⢹⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠉⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠚⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠚⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢹⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡼⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣛⣤⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣝⢿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢫⣤⣛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⢣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀ ⡟⠀⢸⠰⢶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡴⣶⣶⣿⣿⢿⣻⣤⡌⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⢀⣴⣾⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢡⣤⣟⡿⣿⣿⣶⣷⢢⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡶⠂⠀⠀⠀ ⡧⠀⢸⠀⠀⢈⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣥⢠⣽⣶⣾⣿⢟⣯⣶⡇⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢲⣶⣝⡿⣿⣷⣾⣯⣄⣬⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠷⢩⣭⣽⣾⣿⠟⣩⣾⣿⣬⡍⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢩⣄⢿⣷⣝⠻⣿⣷⣯⣭⠉⠾⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡝⣫⣭⣶⣿⢟⣥⣾⡿⣳⣾⡎⣛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣛⢱⣷⣜⢿⣷⣝⡻⣿⣶⣭⡟⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⡛⣫⣶⣿⡿⢫⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⢠⣶⡟⣛⣻⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣟⣛⢱⣶⡄⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⡻⣿⣿⣦⣝⢛⣧⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡗⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⡿⠜⠛⣫⣶⣿⣿⣫⣿⣿⢣⣿⣿⣻⣿⣇⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣴⢸⣿⣟⣿⣿⡜⣿⣷⣽⣿⣿⣮⣟⠛⠣⢿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡧⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⢋⣿⣿⡿⣣⣿⣿⢣⣿⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⡏⣿⣿⡽⣿⣿⣜⢿⣿⣿⡛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⢾⣿⠿⣣⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣹⣿⣿⣜⠿⣿⡧⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⠟⢫⣿⣿⡟⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣾⢹⣿⣿⣿⡇⢻⣿⣿⡝⠻⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡏⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⡿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡗⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⡿⢸⣹⡏⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡧⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣾⢿⣿⣟⡛⣿⣏⣛⡛⣛⣿⣿⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢠⣍⠾⠾⣿⣼⣷⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⣷⣤⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⡿⣸⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣽⢸⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣣⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡟⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⢿⣿⡿⣫⡾⡿⠿⠎⠛⠛⢈⣽⣯⡈⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⢿⣯⡻⠿⠏⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡧⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⣡⣬⡉⣾⣿⡎⠛⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠿⣟⡃⣾⣿⣿⢿⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⣿⣷⣿⣿⣃⡶⠂⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣤⡀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣟⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣽⣮⣿⢻⡟⣿⠁⠀⠀⠐⢿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⠭⢻⡟⣿⣴⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡝⣿⡇⣿⡿⠆⢀⣤⡀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠘⢿⣷⢹⣿⠷⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡟⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⢿⡿⠰⢿⢎⡰⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣷⠄⡺⠿⣈⠿⢟⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡧⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⢸⣿⡆⠞⡁⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠙⠛⠁⢠⣭⣾⣿⠇⠾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣭⣤⣿⣿⡿⣡⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠈⣻⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⢀⡛⢻⣿⣿⣶⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣭⡻⣿⢳⣴⣶⡀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠋⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⣀⠮⣻⢟⣿⣥⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡏⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠿⠿⣷⡻⣷⠥⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣤⠹⠿⢋⡞⢭⣽⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡗⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢣⡼⠇⣾⣷⣬⣾⣧⣦⢠⡀⢈⣻⣟⡁⠀⣠⠰⢸⡇⢁⣾⣷⠘⠿⠶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡧⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢶⣯⢛⣿⣿⣿⠶⢿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣇⢰⣿⠷⢟⣻⣿⠛⣫⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠟⣯⢍⣿⣷⡆⣸⣿⢻⢻⠠⣶⣿⢛⡛⠻⠗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡧⢀⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠟⠻⠿⠾⠾⠘⠋⠉⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful murd*r. Now they cross the street to avoid me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonely. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hung him, and left before he was even deἀd. I was the one that saw the lífe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes will haunt me for the rest of my lífe. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and save him, point the police to the hangers, and see those awful men put in jail for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't control where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.

r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago manen_lyset My sister ruined my sweet 16 My sister ruined my sweet 16 It was supposed to be my special day. Everything was going to be perfect. I'd even gotten a custom made dress for the occasion. Everything was going off without a hitch, but then, my sister ruined my life. It started during the father-daughter dance. There we were, gliding across the ballroom. All eyes on me, as my beautiful gown fluttered at my feet. Suddenly, my sister started convulsing in spasm’s. Whilst everybody tried to figure out what had made the noise, the attention hog tore a hole in the side of my dress with her bare teeth. My party guests were on-edge, all because of her! She couldn't even let me have ONE single birthday to myself. She then started foaming at the mouth mumbling incoherently. By then, my friends were running scared. They shrieked in horror, the party was officially ruined, her head dropped, she went quiet and turned blue. I'm going in for surgery tomorrow to have her remains removed from my side… I've been carrying around her useless conjoint self 16 years too long..

‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage I'm a murder the one who killed my wife. He's just blubbering, perhaps a way of pleading, for his life... Perhaps if he spoke to me to reason, it might've ended differently. Perhaps I might've spared instead of murder if he only could talk out of it. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was only just born moments ago.

I Want to Help It was a beautiful morning when I woke up, the sun shining through and the wildlife up and about. I went for my morning stroll, taking my usual route. I stopped by the surface of the water, when I saw the most peculiar thing: a little girl… In there. Couldn’t she breathe? Why didn’t she come out? Panicking, I reached out and grabbed her arms, yanking her out of it and holding her close to me. She started to scream, but then seemed to be choking. I tried to calm her down. “Shh… Everything is fine, little one, I saved you! Relax! Breathe in!” But she wouldn’t. And soon, despite all my efforts, she went limp. Not again! I couldn’t understand. I had taken her out of that horrible, disgusting air, and into the safety of the water. What had I done wrong this time? Maybe my tentacles frighten them. Maybe I wasn’t gentle enough. Human children are so unpredictable. I’ll save one for real next time, I swear.

My family Story by Pansyk I died eight years ago. It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life. It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful. If anything, I’m the opposite.. ↓Keep reading ↓ 31ST OCT 2020 u/Pansyk I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe. It's not his fault. I am not vengeful. I’m the opposite. You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her. I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home. Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her. As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent, so they weren’t afraid or angry. They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family. Someone is trying to force the door. Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family. The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that. The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin. Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.

ᶜᵒⁿᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾʳⁱⁿᶜⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴰᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᴱᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖʳⁱⁿᶜⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒⁿᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵉˣᵃᵐᵖˡᵉ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿ ᵉᶜᵗᵒᵖⁱᶜ ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᶜʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵇᵒʳⁿ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ⁱˢ ᵈᵉᵛᵉˡᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵛⁱᵈᵘᶜᵗ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵘᵇᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵘᵖᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ‧ ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉ ⁱᵐᵖˡᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ⸴ ˡᵃᵖᵃʳᵒʰʸˢᵗᵉʳᵒˢᵃˡᵖⁱⁿᵍᵒᵒᵒᵖʰᵒʳᵉᶜᵗᵒᵐʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ‧ ᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ ˡᵃʷ ʳᵉᑫᵘⁱʳᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵐᵖˡⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵃˢˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵘˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵉʳᵐⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᶜʸ ⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ “ᵇⁱʳᵗʰ⸴” ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰˢ’ ᵍᵉˢᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧

https://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/library/truth-about-becky-bell-12000

Giggles Chuck climbed out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, refusing to turn on the bedside lamp in case he disturbed his wife whom was låyīng beside him. Finishing his busıness, he made his way to the sink, and just as he began to run the water, thought he heard a faint laughter coming from the bedroom. “Honey? Was that you?” He listened carefully, but there was no reply from that dark doorway. Chuck turned back to the sink and continued to wash his hands, certain that it was just his half-asleep brain playing tricks. However, moments later, he once again thought he could hear a faint laughter from the bedroom. He turned off the water, and began to make his way back into the bedroom. The light was off, and in the bed, he could make out the shape of his wife låyīng there. “Honey? Were you laughing?” Chuck flicked on the bedside lamp, and in an instant was looking into the unblinking đeađ eyes of his wife, her mouth sliced from ear-to-ear in a grotesque mockery of a smıle. Chuck felt his heart freeze, before relief washed over him. “Oh, it WAS you!” he exclaimed with a smıle as he peeled back the ̛ bed sheets, stıll stiff from the long dried błoođ, and climbed back into ̛ bed, kissing his wife’s cold cheek before turning out the light. “For a moment there, I thought I was going cRaZy.”

🇺🇸 https://s1.sos.mo.gov/records/archives/archivesdb/BirthDeath/Default.aspx#searchDB 🇺🇸

r/shortscarystories 5 days ago DottedWriter My Former Highschool Bully Apologized To Me Today I stared at her as she sobbed on her knees "Alice, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! I'm sorry for every horrible thing I've done to you!" Sophia said as she wept in front of me. I just stared at her as she continued to sob over all of the things she had done to me. She would directly insult or make demeaning JOKeS about me, spread n͟asty rumours about me, manipulate my friends against me, şteal a guy I had a crush on, make horrible posts about me on social media, and even manipulate some guys into doing things like jum͜ping̨ me. She did everything if it meant I suffered in the end. I tried to tell my teachers about this, but they just turned a deaf ear, and I didn’t even bother talking to my parents about it, they were more focussed on their jobs than me. And even then, if Sophia found out I snitched, that would result in an extra beating from her and her cronies. She was behind all of my sufferıng, enjoyed the despair on my face, she enjoyed how much ab*se she inflected on me. So you could only imagine my surprise when she approached me one day and started to apologise tearfully to me As she continued to cry, my eyes started to spark with anger, anger that I had suppressed inside me for the past 5 years after highschool . I had no one to turn to for support, absolutely no one. And she dared to spew her little crocodile tears right in front of me. I had enough of it. I floated around my grave until I was behind her, I stared at her for a long minute, before I plunged my hand into her chest. She tensed up, and some of her bľood splattered onto my grave. I dug through her organs before I found what I was looking for. Her heart. It was still beating as she collapsed to the ground, her hands clutching at the wound at a desperate attempt to cover the bleeding. She coughed out błoođ, and wheezed as she continue to bleed out. I stared at how pathetic and pitiful she looked now. I stared at her as a twisted, evil, and satisfied grin crept onto my face .

The Lights When I was young, I used to sleep in my mother's bed a lot due to the nightmares I frequently had as a kid. I could always find peace under the covers of my mom's bed but I now realize the actual comfort had come from the lights. Though still foggy in my memory, there had always been a pair of two lights somewhere near the ceiling of my moms room; I never thought much of them, at least nothing bad of course, they were comforting, soothing, warm. I began depending on these lights, so much that when there didn't show (only on rare occasions), I couldn't help feeling distraught and never got a good sleep. I never investigated the lights, perhaps if I had I wouldn't be in the situation I am now. Eventually I got older and gradually stopped sleeping in my mom's room. The nightmares stopped and I had relatively forgotten about the lights, until last night. Stumbling to bed around midnight after a long night of studies, I couldn't wait to just hit the bed and sleep; I didn't get much, after all. Tormented by visions I hadn't had in a long time left me paralyzed and covered in sweat when I awoke. Somewhat relieved to be back to my world I was confronted with with a fond memory brought up through a familiar feeling. It took a few moments to notice the two solid lights and by now my eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. Adrenaline surged through my body as I gripped the sides of my bed. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something I hadn't through the foggy memories. They weren't lights; they were glowing red eyes. I began to wonder if this was another part of a nightmare, It had to be. Deep down I knew it wasn't, this was all too real. Through lost hope and fear for the unknown a grabbed the closest thing i could, a gift from my mother on my birthday a few years ago, a snow globe from our Denver ski trip. Playing baseball at school I developed a pretty efficient throwing arm. Launching it across the room with my pitching arm the eyes went dark followed by a thump on the floor in front of my bed. Turning on the lights left a pang of guilt in my stomach, why was that so easy. Seeing the creature for the first time up close and knowing it had been around here since I was a kid brought bile up my throat. Its limbs were half as thick than an average humans and where it's skin should have been was a substance unknown to me, dark and leathery but looked as though you could stick your hand right through it, recently punctured with shards of glass. What happened next led me to believe the theory I came up with, as soon as I turned on the lights, was true. This creature wasn't my enemy; nor was it just a neutral visitor. That's when it began, the trampling creaks on the stairs, windows smashing, and above all the worst part was the grotesque shrieks and howls. I knew what I had done tonight was the worst and probably last mistake of my life. Somewhere down the hall my sister screamed. The creature, the one I had killed, had been my protection.

Mothers Illness My mother had fallen ill. She had what my dad did, at least thats what it looked like Everyone cried. I asked if we could take her to the doctor, but we cant afford it My older sister took time off college to take care of her, but we knew how it would end Mother would die like father did Two months later she did After the funeral the cops started to snooping around They questioned me first; they wanted to know what l knew: They threatened me, saying I could be charged as an adult because I was almost seventeen. I cried and said I loved my parents They took my finger prints and let me go. My sister was next They never let her go. They said she poisoned my parents for the life insurance policy she took out on them. My three younger siblings and i couldnt believe it My sister never admitted to the crime, but everyone said she was guilty. That is what it looked like. • The hardest part of it all was getting my sisters figure prints on the poison. Faking her identity to take out the insurance policies was easy Soon Id be going to a new home, with new parents. Its time to start planning my next game.

WIFE "Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook, a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...' I shrug, and start to eat dinner. "Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile. She races upstairs, and I continue eating. escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really take that long to put away clothes? So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.* "What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife into her chest.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 8 mo. ago homestarmy_recruiter "Turn back," I begged my friend as he drove, sirens wailing in the background. He seemed desperate not to, at first, but after I got one of his earplugs out, he agreed that their voices were too beautiful to ignore.

A White Lie I'm the last one here. Those things have killed everyone else. Those things with the huge wings, with the beady eyes, with the sharp claws....every time I close my eyes see my coworkers being ripped apart. A few of us made it to the building here, but even here we aren't safe. I watched them get picked off one by one, screaming as they fought against death. I tried to stop it I swear I did I tried... Now I'm running through the building to the main power center. With no one else to ask, I'm tasked with pressing one of these buttons. Either will press the red button, or the green button. Supposedly, one button will turn the power doors back on, protecting us from whatever that shrieking, hungry, and angry...thing is outside. That's the red button. The other button is green and opens the opposite side power door, and I can only imagine what might be out there. Why had I agreed to come and research in this lab? I think as I run, hearing the screeches behind me. Oh .... Why did I lie on my application? Why didn't I admit I was color blind?

I was starving and lost in the woods until I found a hiker; I'm full now but I just wished she hadn���t screamed so loud.

Not only have we implanted a lifetime of human memories into this rat but we can now monitor what it's thinking. It appears to think it's reading the second line of a two sentence story on-line right now..

r/shortscarystories 23 hr. ago captain-howdy2323 Unknown Stranger Oh my! I can hear him moving around down stairs. Can I remember if I heard him come inside? Idk. I must have because I've armed myself. I cower away in this closet. But I can't remember any of that. I must be in shock. Oh my heart is racing. I hear him coming up the stairs. It won't be long until he finds me. I can already see what everyone will be saying. "Man found in house", "The bloodbath". He's right outside the room. I'm breathing so heavily. I'm sure he can hear me. Please, stop shaking. Please, nerves calm down. He's opening the door. This is it. Finally. I've been waiting in his closet for hours.

ᴹⁱˢˢ ᔆʰᵃⁿᵉ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ¹⁸⁷⁸ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ᴹᵃʸ ¹⁸⁹⁶ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ¹⁷–¹⁸⁾ ᴴᵉᵃʳᵗ ᴰⁱˢᵉᵃˢᵉ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴱᵃˢᵗᵉʳⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᴶᵉᶠᶠᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵛⁱˡˡᵉ⸴ ᶜˡᵃʳᵏ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᴵⁿᵈⁱᵃⁿᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣠⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡶⡶⣶⢦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣯⣱⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣎⣼⣩⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⡄⠀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⡿⣾⣯⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢹⣿⡋⠁⠀⣹⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣽⣛⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣶⣶⣿⣷⣭⠳⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣟⠿⠙⠻⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠳⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣦⣵⣏⠀⠀⠀⢼⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣓⡎⢳⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⡗⠦⠀⠀⣶⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣥⣞⡹⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣤⣤⡤⠜⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣏⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣿⠿⢿⡃⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣧⢹⡟⢳⡶⣙⣦⣾⣿⣯⢤⣾⠇⠀⠀⢹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⢎⣷⣸⣷⠹⣿⣻⡟⠿⣜⢿⡀⠀⢀⡞⠙⠦⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠙⣿⣌⡱⠌⣃⠻⣄⡾⠀⠀⠰⣄⡀⠍⠉⠐⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣽⡦⣽⣿⣶⣤⣁⣟⣁⣤⣴⢖⠛⠉⠈⠀⢠⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡈⠻⣿⣿⣿⡿⢄⠠⢹⣧⣀⡐⠀⣿⡍⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣵⢣⣽⡿⣷⣾⣮⡄⢸⣋⠈⡿⠓⣾⣴⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣷⣧⣾⡘⠳⣿⣻⣾⣸⠠⢈⣇⢐⣿⣿⣿⡿⣦⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣟⣟⣷⡶⣬⣿⣿⠦⠿⣧⢧⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⠆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣷⠈⣄⠀⡈⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⣾⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⣿⣿⢈⡤⠳⣤⢉⡜⣐⡆⢐⡀⢿⡆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣟⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⣾⣿⣨⠔⣣⡙⢶⣜⡤⡾⡄⣽⣠⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⣗⣮⣗⣯⣿⡾⠁⠀ ⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡧⣛⢻⣷⣭⡒⢭⣛⣽⣟⢿⣇⡈⠉⡉⢉⢁⡀⠀⠀

⣿⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣟⡿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⢿ ⣿⣞⡿⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣯⢿ ⣿⣞⣿⣽⢾⣟⣯⡷⣿⣻⣽⢾⣟⣯⡷⣿⣻⣽⢾⣟⣯⡷⣿⣻⣽⢾⣟⠯⠗⠛⠋⠉⡈⠉⠋⠓⠻⠿⣽⣾⣻⢯⣷⣟⡿⣽⣾⣻⢯⣷⣟⡿⣽⣾⣻⢯⣷⣟⡿⣽⣾⣻⢷⣻⣿ ⣿⣞⡿⣞⣯⡿⣞⣿⣳⡿⣽⣻⡾⣯⣟⣷⢿⣽⣻⡾⣯⣟⣷⡿⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣶⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣳⣯⢿⣻⣾⡽⣟⣷⣯⢿⣻⣾⡽⣟⣷⣯⢿⣻⣾⡽⣟⡿⣾ ⣿⣞⣿⣻⣽⣻⢯⣷⢿⣽⣟⡷⣿⣽⣻⢾⣯⣟⡷⣿⣽⡻⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢯⣿⣻⢾⣽⣟⡷⣯⣿⣻⢾⣽⣟⡷⣯⣿⣻⢾⣽⢿⣽⢿ ⣿⣽⣻⣯⢿⣻⣾⣻⢾⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⣻⢷⣯⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣟⣾⢯⣟⣷⢿⣽⣻⡾⣯⣟⣷⢿⣽⣻⡾⣟⣾⣽⣾ ⣿⣞⣷⣟⡿⣽⣾⣻⢯⣿⡽⣟⣾⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⣿⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣯⣿⣻⢾⣯⣟⡷⣿⣽⣻⢾⣯⣟⡷⣿⢯⣷⣟⣾ ⣿⣞⡿⣞⣿⣻⢾⣽⣟⡷⣿⣻⣽⢾⣻⣟⣾⣽⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣾⣻⣟⣾⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⣻⣽⣟⡷⣯⣿ ⣿⣞⡿⣯⣷⢿⣯⣷⣻⣟⡷⣿⣽⣻⣽⣾⣻⣾⠀⠀⠀⣤⡀⠀⠀⠈⠹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠘⣯⣷⢿⣽⢾⣻⣟⣾⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⣾⣽⣻⣽⣾ ⣿⣞⣿⣽⢾⣟⡾⣷⣻⡾⣟⣷⣯⣟⣾⢷⣯⡇⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠈⠹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠈⠹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⣿⣽⣻⡾⣟⡿⣞⡿⣞⣯⣿⣞⣯⡷⣿⣽⣳⣿ ⣿⢾⣽⡾⣿⣽⣻⣽⢷⣟⣯⣷⣟⣾⢯⣿⣞⣧⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣾⢷⣻⣽⢿⣽⢿⣽⢿⣽⡾⣽⣳⣿⣳⣯⣷⢿ ⣿⢯⣷⢿⣳⣯⢿⣾⣻⣽⣻⢾⣽⡾⣟⣷⢯⣿⡀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⢠⣿⣻⢯⣟⡿⣾⢯⣟⡿⣾⣽⢿⣽⣞⣯⣷⢯⣿ ⣿⢯⣟⣯⡿⣽⣻⣾⣽⣳⡿⣯⣷⢿⣻⡾⣿⡽⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡿⣽⣻⢯⣟⣯⡿⣯⢿⣳⣯⣿⣞⣯⣷⣟⣯⣿ ⣿⢯⣿⣽⣻⣽⢷⣻⣾⣽⣻⢷⣯⡿⣯⣟⣷⢿⣻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣻⣽⢯⣿⢯⡿⣽⣻⢿⣽⣳⣟⣾⣻⢾⣽⣳⣿ ⣿⣻⢾⣳⡿⣽⣻⣟⣾⣳⣿⣻⣾⡽⣷⣻⣽⢿⣽⣳⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣟⣷⢯⣟⣯⣟⣯⣿⣻⣽⣯⡷⣿⣽⣳⡿⣯⣟⣷⣻ ⣿⣻⡾⣟⣷⢿⣯⣟⣯⣿⡽⣯⣟⣷⣻⢿⣽⣞⡿⣯⣟⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣻⣽⡾⣟⣿⡽⣿⣽⣻⣽⢯⣷⢿⣽⣻⢷⣯⢿⣻⢿ ⣿⣳⡿⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⣳⣯⢿⣽⡾⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⣻⣽⡾⣯⣟⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⣻⣽⡾⣽⣳⣿⣻⣞⣿⣳⣯⢿⣾⣻⡽⣟⣾⣟⡿⣾⣟⣯⣿ ⣿⣳⣿⣽⢾⣟⣷⣯⣟⣾⣟⡷⣿⣽⢾⡿⣽⡾⣯⣷⢿⣽⡾⣷⢯⣟⡿⣷⣶⣦⣤⣤⣥⣤⣤⣴⣶⣿⣻⢯⣷⢯⣟⣾⣽⢿⣽⢾⣷⣻⢷⣻⣽⣟⣾⡽⣟⣯⣷⢿⣽⡷⣯⣟⣾ ⣿⣳⣟⣾⢿⣽⣾⣳⣯⡷⣟⣿⣳⣯⣿⣻⣽⣻⢷⣯⡿⣞⣿⣽⣻⢯⡿⣷⣻⣾⣽⣳⣯⢿⣽⣾⣳⣯⣟⡿⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣯⣟⡿⣞⣯⡿⣯⣷⣻⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣟⣾⣽⢯⣿⢾ ⣿⣽⢾⣯⢿⣞⣷⣯⡷⣿⣻⢷⣻⢷⣯⡷⣿⡽⣟⣾⣽⣟⡷⣯⣟⡿⣽⡷⣟⣷⢯⣟⣾⣟⡷⣯⣷⣟⣾⣟⡿⣽⣟⣯⡷⣟⣾⣟⡿⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⡷⣿⣻⢯⣷⣻⣽⡾⣿⣽⣻

⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀ ⣼⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣻⣿⣟⡿⠿⢯⡿⠿⢿⣽⣿⣿⣻⣿⢿⣻⣿⣿⢿⣿⣧ ⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⢀⣴⣷⣀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣽⣿⡿⣟⣿ ⣿⣿⡿⣷⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⣠⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⡀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣅⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠘⣿⣷⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣽⡟⠀⢠⣧⡀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⡿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⢹⣿⣿⣻ ⣿⣿⣿⡇⠰⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⡗⢸⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣾⣧⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣦⣾⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠈⠻⠃⠀⣸⣿⣿⣽ ⣿⣿⡿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⢙⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡟⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣟⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠈⠻⡟⠋⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿ ⢻⣿⣿⢿⣻⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣷⣿⣿⣟⡏ ⠀⠙⠿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣷⣿⢿⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣷⣿⣿⣿⣻⠯⠋⠀

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣻⣤⣭⣭⣭⣥⣼⣋⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⡟⣿⣿⣿⣭⣿⣺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⣵⣿⢿⣻⣯⣭⣭⣭⣭⣟⣻⢿⣶⣭⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣴⡖⠀⣼⣿⣿⣯⣤⡶⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣿⣟⣫⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢫⣿⡿⣻⡽⠞⠋⠉⣩⣿⣏⡉⠙⠛⠾⣝⡿⣷⣝⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣵⣿⣫⠞⠁⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⡟⠉⠀⢀⠀⠈⠻⣮⢿⣷⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⡀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⡟⣼⡿⣱⠏⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⠿⠉⠀⢀⣴⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⢷⡻⣿⡽⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿ ⠿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠿⠿⠻⢳⣿⢻⠏⢀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣦⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠈⣷⢻⣧⠻⠟⠿⠻⠿⠻⠿⠟⠿⠿⠻⠿⠟⠿⠿⠻⠿⠟⠿⠟⠿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠿⠻ ⣶⣷⣾⣶⣷⣾⣶⣷⣾⣶⣷⣷⣿⣿⣿⣠⣿⣷⣄⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣦⣸⣿⣿⢸⣾⣶⣷⣾⣷⣶⣾⣶⣾⣷⣶⣿⣶⣾⣷⣶⣿⣶⣾⣶⣷⣾⣶⣷⣾⣶⣷ ⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⣿⣿⠙⢻⣿⣿⣷⣄⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⠻⣿⠏⢹⢻⣿⠸⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿ ⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣴⡼⣿⡼⣆⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠛⢿⣿⣿⣶⡀⠀⠀⢀⡿⣻⡟⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶ ⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⢻⣷⡹⣆⠀⠀⠙⢻⠟⠁⠀⢠⣴⣿⣿⡿⠏⠁⠀⢠⡾⣵⣿⣳⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⢁⡟⠋⠙⠪⣝⠻⣷⡻⣿⣝⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⣿⣿⡿⠏⠀⠀⢀⣴⢟⣽⡿⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⡟⣁⣀⣤⣀⡿⠀⠸⣿⣜⡿⣷⣽⣳⢦⣤⣄⣙⣿⣋⣀⣤⣤⢾⣫⣷⡿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⠿⣷⣶⣿⠓⣿⣏⠹⡋⠳⣆⢰⣿⣿⣷⣝⡻⣿⣾⣭⣟⣛⣛⣛⣻⣭⣽⣾⠿⣛⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠜⠛⢻⣿⣿⡟⠀⠐⠟⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣧⣸⣃⣛⣻⣿⡍⢛⣃⣽⡿⠞⢻⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣭⠻⣛⣛⣛⡟⢫⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢀⣀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡿⠁⣀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡟⢳⢻⣇⣙⣉⣙⣩⣿⠌⡼⠤⢼⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣛⣿⡟⠻⠟⠿⠛⢉⣀⣷⣰⠛⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

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🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦

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☣☢✡☭✈⛥✝☦✞☪✠✙⚒✠ꑭ✞⚒

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⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜ ⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜ ⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜

Project Shocking I am the mother of a 20 year old girl that died in June from Toxic Shock Syndrome. My daughter was using a Playtex tampon. I've been doing an inordinate amount of research since her death in June, and have been sending out information daily via a pamphlet I authored with help from a PhD. known nationally for his research of Toxic Shock Syndrome. I also have been utilizing social networking and visiting high schools to point out the symptoms and prevention of tampon induced TSS. Many of these young women do not yet have the antibodies they need to use tampons containing viscose rayon. Ladies have been contacting me daily to tell their personal experiences of TSS or share the story of their child who died of TSS. It's unfathomable how the numbers are rising. The sad part is, every single instance of TSS I have personally heard about was using Playtex. I'm sure it isn't only Playtex brand, but these are the instances I've heard about. My daughter was only using "regular" absorbency. Regular absorbency isn't absorbency that is focused on. Amy was a hygiene freak, and changed her tampon like clockwork in fear she would get TSS. It still killed her. Another friend of mine almost lost her 15 year old daughter; not because she was using a tampon, but because of a fiber left inside her a week later. Her daughter is now recovering from reconstruction of her toes due to TSS. TSS is killing young women everywhere. I believe it's every bit as bad as in the 1980's; however, no one knows it. Even Playtex says on their warning label that 1 to 17 of every 100,000 menstruating women PER YEAR will get TSS. If you figure that out, how many menstruating women are there; maybe 15% of the population? That takes the number up to 1 to 17 in 15,000 PER YEAR. Pardon my math skills; I'm aging fast! It's staggering if you get to the real numbers! Up to 25% of these young women will die. People aren't reporting to the FDA; the FDA isn't policing the factories responsibly. They are under the grandfather clause with the FDA, so their new products aren't going through appropriate testing. They don't have to report what is in them. TSS isn't reportable to the CDC; yet the CDC gives out numbers of cases. This isn't right. People are led to believe these CDC reported numbers which gives them a false security. On to the Robin Danielson Act; 2001 H.R. 360, presented by Representative Carolyn Maloney D NY; the bill would amend the Public Health Service Act requiring TSS to be reported to the CDC and would also force the industry to list the content of tampons on the box. The bill has been thrown out continually for the last 13 years. I looked into the tampon industry CEO's political contributions to Congressmen. You can guess the outcome. In my mind this isn't adding up. I believe the fate of my daughter was sealed because of this corporate conduct. I'm currently starting a non-profit organization called, You ARE Loved, (the letters ARE represent my daughter’s initials, Amy Rae Elifritz) to educate girls in high schools across America of the symptoms of TSS, what to watch for and how to prevent it. They need to know! TSS symptoms resemble the flu! It isn't just super absorbent tampons, it's regular tampons too; anything with viscose rayon in it. Warnings say to watch for a rash or peeling. The rash isn't likely to be presented until TSS is beyond recovery. The peeling of skin isn't until at least 7 days to 2 weeks after it begins (provided you aren't dead yet). Playtex' annual report in 2007 reads, “Our Feminine Care marketing strategies have leveraged the strength of the Playtex brand that caters to the active, young female. Our Feminine Care marketing strategy centers on attracting first-time users, converting users of competitive products to our products and converting full-time feminine protection pad users to tampon users by communicating the advantages of tampons. In addition, we have developed the website, www.playtextampons.com, to provide information to adults and adolescents in choosing the right products“. These adolescents are the exact age group that hasn’t developed the immunity to the S. aureus bacteria. They are the most vulnerable people in the world to TSS. How can we get the warning out to these young women that TSS is real and happening when the industry is pushing so hard to reel them in? TSS of the 1980's is history. 2011 is NOW and TSS is happening! Lately I’ve seen medical professionals on TV talking about TSS. They keep repeating that TSS happens only with use of super tampons and to change frequently. My daughter changed every 4-6 hours! I know; I bought them! Actually the toxin begins to develop 2 hours after inserting a tampon and continues to multiply even while changing tampons. This toxin continues to increase as long as you are wearing tampons. The only way to dissipate the toxin in the vaginal canal is to use a pad for at least 8 hours between tampons. I’ve never heard anyone publically explain why alternating with a pad is so important! It’s a very understandable explanation. The only way to prevent TSS is with 100% cotton tampons or pads alone. The reason you can’t find cotton tampons in big stores is the companies that produce 100% cotton tampon are small. Cotton is expensive! These companies cannot afford the advertising to meet the requirements for shelf space at Walmart, CVS, or Walgreen. You have to order them online or go to a specific health food store. What 15 year old will wait 3 days for mail order delivery of a tampon when she needs it now? It's like a 3 day waiting period to buy a gun. I need help getting the word out. I can point you to the research, the professional journals, and the microbiologists that can back me up on everything I mentioned. The medical community is in the dark and it’s not their fault. I want TSS symptom posters on every ER wall in this country - symptoms and first actions. If a woman comes into the ER with a fever and flu, CHECK FOR A TAMPON! If she has one in, REMOVE IT!! Conscious or unconscious, remove the tampon or she will die. The medical profession needs to be educated in tampon related TSS; they are led to believe it no longer exists. Shortly after my daughter’s death I received a thank you message from a mother for saving her daughter's life. Last night I was told that because of my information a second life was saved. The feeling I get from these messages is beyond words. I take no credit for this because everyone needs to be educated. Saving lives is the result of the education. There is now a test; the TSST-1 antibody test that will identify if a person has the antibodies which make it safe to use tampons containing viscose rayon. My local hospital doesn't offer it … Yet. We need to test these young girls or provide symptom education for them and for medical staff along with funding for research to develop a vaccination that boosts antibodies to the toxin produced by Staphylococcus aureus. What more can I do as a citizen without help? It's time to recreate awareness for the new century of TSS. This is an important public service for this story to be told/this warning to be given. Grieving Mother, Lisa Elifritz Special thanks to Maxim Organic for supplying samples of 100% cotton tampons for the young women I speak to. The above is my interpretation of the research I have done since the death of my daughter to Toxic Shock Syndrome. It is not my intention to imply fault to any company, organization or individual. It has been approved by a nationally known microbiologist/toxic shock expert.

https://www.ewtn.com/catholicism/library/exception-to-save-the-life-of-the-mother-12052

The End “The End is nigh” “Agency Officials: Spend this time with your loved ones” “Citizens prepare for the Inevitable” The newspapers were all the same. His mother whisked him away from the news stand and into her arms, but not before he read the last headline. “The Invasion: What could We have done?” “Mommy, what’s happening?” he whispered. She pressed his warm, chubby hand to her wet cheek and let out a quiet sob. “The humans. They found us.”

1 day ago u/Sticky_Cheetos He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.” I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.

My Sister's Sculpture My Mother told me about it when I was around 6 years old. She told me I wasn't an only child, I was one of two little girls. You see, she told me that when I was first born along with my twin sister, she died the evening she was born. She never told me why or how she died.or when they had the funeral for her. She told me about my Father going into a deep sense of mourning, and so to let us never forget my little sister my Father made a sculpture ofher. She was painted to every last detail. Her cute blue eyes to the little dimples in her cheeks. My Father would copy me as a reference since we were twins, and as I grew up I thought the sculpture was of me, but now that my Mother cleared this all up I felt more close to the sculpture than I did before. It wasn't long until I noticed that every year; on my birthday my Father would replace the sculpture and now the sculpture looked the same age as me, as if the sculpture would follow me as l aged. My Father continued to do this well into my teenage years, capturing her older and more mature features and the change in her face. On my 18th birthday I realised I could not sleep. I was wondering how my Father made the sculpture so detailed to me so late into the night. Perhaps he took a photo of me and paints it in every detail? I was curious. So I desided to creep my way downstairs to see if could catch my Father making the sculpture, and as l peeked my head around the kitchen door I felt all the colour of my face drain. There, on the Kitchen table my Father was injecting the “sculpture” with a liquid as he whispered "You will always be my little sculpture." as I watched the “sculpture's” hands twitch.

When one of my friends was born, the doctors told her parents she wouldn't live past a week. Then, they said that she would live, but she wouldn't be able to walk. Yesterday, at 17, we were walking through the mall together. She helped somebody in a wheelchair, saying "That could be me" She GMH Mar 22, 2011 at 7:00am by Emma G, Dallas

r/TwoSentenceHorror 26 days ago Prestigious_Salad_85 I screamed in excitement as I received an email stating that my application was accepted. The rest of my family cried out in despair knowing they weren’t selected to board the last ship leaving our dying planet behind.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago spenceyfresh As death came for him, his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered everything his birth, his trip home and the blank look in his mothers eyes as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago IAbstainFromSociety My attempt to break into the cockpit with the fire axes failed, as the cockpit doors had been reinforced to protect against terrorism. Alone in the cockpit, there was nothing to stop my suicidal co-pilot from crashing the plane into the mountains..

http://www.bowerman.ca/albury/bdata.htm

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago mydadsnameisharold "Yes, the blood means you're a woman now." Too groggy to make sense of the pain between his legs, he managed to ask, "... what did you just do to me?"

Practice Makes Perfect by reddit user whiteddit "You're not even trying. Again!" My calloused hands dance across the music. A finger slips and the tune groans. "Your father would be ashamed. Again!" My blurred vision falls from the yellowed sheet music to the keys. I miss another note. "Faster. Again!" I stumble once more as the tempo increases. She rises from the bench. "Absolutely worthless. You're done for today." I hang my head in shame. I know what's coming. The floorboards creak as Mother returns from the kitchen. I wince. It's hard enough to play with three fingers. It'll be even harder with two.

Search the dictionary "horror" meaning in All languages combined Noun [English] IPA: /ˈhɒɹ.ə/ [New-England, Received-Pronunciation], /ˈhɔɹ.ɚ/ [Canada, General-American], /ˈhɑɹ.ɚ/ [New-York-City, Philadelphia], /ˈhɔɚ/ (note: some accents) Audio: en-us-horror.ogg ▶️ [US] Forms: horrors [plural] [Show additional information ▼] (countable, uncountable) An intense distressing emotion of fear or repugnance. Tags: countable, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear Translations (intense distressing fear or repugnance): tmerr [masculine] (Albanian), رُعْب (ruʕb) [masculine] (Arabic), خَوْف (ḵawf) [masculine] (Arabic), սարսափ (sarsapʿ) (Armenian), ահ (ah) (Armenian), vahimə (Azerbaijani), dəhşət (Azerbaijani), жах (žax) [masculine] (Belarusian), страх (strax) [masculine] (Belarusian), ভয় (bhoẏ) (Bengali), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Bulgarian), страх (strah) [masculine] (Bulgarian), horror [masculine] (Catalan), 恐怖 (kǒngbù) (Chinese Mandarin), 恐懼 (Chinese Mandarin), 恐惧 (kǒngjù) (Chinese Mandarin), hrůza [feminine] (Czech), gru (Danish), rædsel (Danish), gruwel [masculine] (Dutch), õudus (Estonian), kauhu (Finnish), kammo (Finnish), hirveys (Finnish), horreur [masculine] (French), effroi [masculine] (French), horror [masculine] (Galician), საშინელება (sašineleba) (Georgian), Angst [feminine] (German), Furcht [feminine] (German), Horror [masculine] (German), Grauen [neuter] (German), Greuel [masculine] (German), 𐌿𐍃𐍆𐌹𐌻𐌼𐌴𐌹 (usfilmei) [feminine] (Gothic), τρόμος (trómos) [masculine] (Greek), אֵימָה (éima) [feminine] (Hebrew), दहशत (dahśat) [feminine] (Hindi), आतंक (ātaṅk) [masculine] (Hindi), भय (bhay) [masculine] (Hindi), borzalom (Hungarian), ógn [feminine] (Icelandic), horor (Indonesian), uafás [masculine] (Irish), orrore [masculine] (Italian), 恐怖 (kyōfu) (alt: きょうふ) (Japanese), 恐れ (osore) (alt: おそれ) (Japanese), қорқыныш (qorqynyş) (Kazakh), ភេរវារម្មណ៍ (pheirĕəʼviərɑm) (Khmer), 공포 (gongpo) (alt: 恐怖) (Korean), 무서움 (museoum) (Korean), 두려움 (duryeoum) (Korean), коркунуч (korkunuc) (Kyrgyz), horror [masculine] (Latin), šausmas [feminine] (Latvian), siaubas (Lithuanian), šiurpas (Lithuanian), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Macedonian), страв (strav) [masculine] (Macedonian), аймшиг (ajmšig) (Mongolian), gru [feminine] (Norwegian Bokmål), redsel [masculine] (Norwegian Bokmål), orror (Occitan), ōga [masculine] (Old English), دهشت (dahšat) [masculine] (Pashto), وحشت (vahšat) (Persian), دهشت (dahšat) (Persian), Grul [feminine] (Plautdietsch), groza [feminine] (Polish), strach [masculine] (Polish), horror [masculine] (Portuguese), groază [feminine] (Romanian), oroare [feminine] (Romanian), spaimă [feminine] (Romanian), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Russian), страх (strax) [masculine] (Russian), боя́знь (bojáznʹ) [feminine] (Russian), घोर (ghora) [masculine] (Sanskrit), у̏жа̄с [Cyrillic, masculine] (Serbo-Croatian), ȕžās [Roman, masculine] (Serbo-Croatian), hrôza [feminine] (Slovak), groza [feminine] (Slovene), horror [masculine] (Spanish), skräck [common-gender] (Swedish), fruktan [common-gender] (Swedish), fasa [common-gender] (Swedish), даҳшат (dahšat) (Tajik), ваҳшаг (vahšag) (Tajik), дәһшәт (dähşät) (Tatar), куркыныч (qurkınıç) (Tatar), empelñe (Tocharian B), korku (Turkish), dehşet (Turkish), elhençlik (Turkmen), жах (žax) [masculine] (Ukrainian), страх (strax) [masculine] (Ukrainian), دہشت (dahśat) [feminine] (Urdu), قورقۇنچ (qorqunch) (Uyghur), qoʻrquv (Uzbek), dahshat (Uzbek), sự khiếp (Vietnamese), sự ghê rợn (Vietnamese) [Show more ▼] (countable, uncountable) Something horrible; that which excites horror. Tags: countable, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear [Show more ▼] (countable, uncountable) Intense dislike or aversion; an abhorrence. Tags: countable, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear Translations (intense dislike or aversion): отвраще́ние (otvrašténie) [neuter] (Bulgarian), kammo (Finnish), inho (Finnish), dégoût (French), aversion (French), отвраще́ние (otvraščénije) [neuter] (Russian), омерзе́ние (omerzénije) [neuter] (Russian) [Show more ▼] (uncountable) A genre of fiction designed to evoke a feeling of fear and suspense. Tags: uncountable Categories (topical): Horror, Fear, Genres, Horror, Literary genres [Show more ▼] (countable) An individual work in this genre. Tags: countable Translations (literary genre): жах (žax) [masculine] (Belarusian), у́жаси (úžasi) [masculine, plural] (Bulgarian), terror (Catalan), 恐怖 (kǒngbù) (Chinese Mandarin), horor (Czech), kauhu (Finnish), kauhukirjallisuus (Finnish), Horror [masculine] (German), ホラー (horā) (Japanese), 호러 (horeo) (Korean), 공포 (gongpo) (alt: 恐怖) (Korean), у́жаси (úžasi) [masculine, plural] (Macedonian), хо́рор (hóror) [masculine] (Macedonian), horror [masculine] (Portuguese), у́жас (úžas) [masculine] (Russian), ужа́стик (užástik) [colloquial, masculine] (Russian), хо́ррор (xórror) [masculine, neologism] (Russian), skräck [common-gender] (Swedish), жах (žax) [masculine] (Ukrainian) [Show more ▼] (countable, colloquial) A nasty or ill-behaved person; a rascal or terror. Tags: colloquial, countable Categories (topical): Fear [Show more ▼] (informal) An intense anxiety or a nervous depression; often the horrors. Tags: countable, informal, uncountable Categories (topical): Fear Translations (informal: intense anxiety): täpinät [plural] (Finnish) [Show more ▼] (in the plural, informal) Delirium tremens. Tags: countable, in-plural, informal, uncountable [Show more ▼] The following are not (yet) sense-disambiguated Synonyms: nightmare, horrour (english: hypercorrect spelling or archaic) [UK] Hypernyms: speculative fiction Related terms: horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifical, horrification, horrify [Show more ▼] Noun [Galician] IPA: [ɔˈroɾ] Forms: horrores [plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: masculine Synonyms: espanto, pavor, terror Related terms: horrorizar, horroroso [Show more ▼] Noun [Hungarian] IPA: [ˈhorːor] [Show additional information ▼] horror [Show more ▼] Noun [Latin] IPA: /ˈhor.ror/ [Classical], [ˈhɔrːɔr] [Classical], /ˈor.ror/ (note: modern Italianate Ecclesiastical), [ˈɔrːor] (note: modern Italianate Ecclesiastical) [Show additional information ▼] bristling (standing on end) Tags: declension-3, masculine [Show more ▼] shaking, shivering, chill Tags: declension-3, masculine [Show more ▼] dread, terror, horror Tags: declension-3, masculine [Show more ▼] The following are not (yet) sense-disambiguated Related terms: horrendus, horridus, horribilis, horrificus Noun [Old French] Forms: horror oblique singular or [canonical, feminine], horrors [oblique, plural], horror [nominative, singular], horrors [nominative, plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror or terror Synonyms: horrour, horrur [Show more ▼] Noun [Polish] IPA: /ˈxɔr.rɔr/ [Show additional information ▼] (colloquial) horror (something horrible; that which excites horror) Tags: colloquial, inanimate, masculine [Show more ▼] horror movie Tags: inanimate, masculine Synonyms: film grozy [Show more ▼] horror (literary genre) Tags: inanimate, masculine [Show more ▼] Noun [Portuguese] IPA: /oˈʁoʁ/ [Brazil], [oˈhoh] [Brazil], /oˈʁoʁ/ [Brazil], [oˈhoh] [Brazil], /oˈʁoɾ/ [São-Paulo], [oˈhoɾ] [São-Paulo], /oˈʁoʁ/ [Rio-de-Janeiro], [oˈχoχ] [Rio-de-Janeiro], /oˈʁoɻ/ [Southern-Brazil], [oˈhoɻ] [Southern-Brazil], /ɔˈʁoɾ/ [Portugal] Forms: horrores [plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: masculine Synonyms: temor, terror Related terms: horrendo, hórrido, horrífero, horrífico, horripilar, horrível, horrorizar, horroroso [Show more ▼] Adjective [Romanian] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: feminine, indeclinable, masculine, neuter [Show more ▼] Noun [Romanian] [Show additional information ▼] horror Tags: neuter [Show more ▼] Noun [Spanish] IPA: /oˈroɾ/, [oˈroɾ] Forms: horrores [plural] [Show additional information ▼] horror; terror Wikipedia link: Diccionario crítico etimológico castellano e hispánico Tags: masculine Synonyms: miedo, temor, terror Derived forms: horror al vacío Related terms: horrendo, horrible, hórrido, horrífico, horripilante, horrorizar, horroroso [Show more ▼] Inflected forms horrores (Noun) [Portuguese] plural of horror horrores (Noun) [Spanish] plural of horror horrors (Noun) [English] plural of horror horrore (Noun) [Latin] ablative singular of horror horroribus (Noun) [Latin] dative/ablative plural of horror horrorem (Noun) [Latin] accusative singular of horror horroris (Noun) [Latin] genitive singular of horror horrori (Noun) [Latin] dative singular of horror horrorum (Noun) [Latin] genitive plural of horror horrores (Noun) [Latin] nominative/accusative/vocative plural of horror Alternative forms horrour (Noun) [Old French] Alternative form of horror horrour (Noun) [English] Misspelling of horror. horrour (Noun) [English] Obsolete form of horror. horrow (Noun) [English] Alternative form of horror If you use this data in academic research, please cite Tatu Ylonen: Wiktextract: Wiktionary as Machine-Readable Structured Data, Proceedings of the 13th Conference on Language Resources and Evaluation (LREC), pp. 1317-1325, Marseille, 20-25 June 2022. Linking to the relevant page(s) under https://kaikki.org would also be greatly appreciated.

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago MintClicker Moments before the tragedy At 3, she jumped off the bed. At 7, she unbuckled her seat belt. At 12, she went to a sleepover at a friend's house. At 17, she finally received her driver's license. At 26, she said yes. At 30, she went into labor. At 39, she had one last hurrah. At 46, she signed the papers to make it final. At 55, he was diagnosed and had no one to share the news with. At 61, she celebrated her remission with a night out. At 22, she looked at herself in the mirror. At 87, surrounded by her family and friends, she smiled. There are moments before every tragedy, quick flashes of boredom or happiness, of the expected and unexpected. These moments I see. The little girl jumping off her parents bed and into an unresponsive final state. Another girl attending her first sleepover, excited and giddy, only to succumb to an unknowing fatal nut allergy. The young woman whose proposal near the shoreline was poorly thought-out, never allowing her to live to see her marriage. The older woman who finally divorced the man she came to loathe, and for that man to not take the finality of it all with dignity or peace. The man whose diagnosis was terminal. The woman whose 40th birthday ended in heartache and disaster. The girl whose last glimpse in the mirror was of herself, relieved, then raising the pistol to her temple. These moments, as innocuous as they seem, are the final looks to life before tragedy ultimately hits. And I watch them. I have to. It's my responsibility to take you all from this realm to the next. It's my duty. And I am sorry; I truly am. Because now? At this moment, they read the final sentences of a story. Some bored. Some happy. Some expecting this ending; some not. And I watch as they read these last words, fully oblivious as they are, that this, this is their moment.

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️ ⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

‘First Words‘ by alatus_corruptrix Any day now, she’ll say her first words. My wife and I have been playfully betting on what she’ll say first – ‘Mamá’ or ‘Daddy.’ I can hear my wife crooning over and over while she feeds her ‘Mama’s little girl! Mamá loves you so much!’ Sometimes, she’s not even subtle about it – ‘Say ‘Mamá!’ Come on! ‘Mamá!” I don’t mind it though. I still believe I’ll win. When we first brought her home, she would scream and cry and nothing my wife would say could calm her down. Ours must be a daddy’s girl. I sit her in her chair and my wife and I begin babbling like chickens – ‘Mamá!’ ‘Daddy!’ ‘Say Mamá!’ ‘Who’s daddy’s baby?’ I pull the gag from our little girl’s mouth. “P-please… what do you want from me? Please, let me go…” My wife’s smile falls from her face. With a heavy heart, I put the gag back in as the girl starts to scream. I take her back and dispose of her. When I return, I find my wife crying. “It’s ok, honey,” I tell her; “the next one will be better, I promise.”

Mary had a little lamb It's fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went That lamb was sure to go. He followed her to school one day That was against the rules, It made the children laugh and play But soon they felt like fools. Mary’s corpse was in a room And oh, what a scene! The kids saw her coated in blood And regretted being mean. Soon the police arrived Stepped over Mary’s heart, And tried to ask everyone How she was ripped apart. But when nobody knew The origins of all the gore, The police decided That it was time to go hardcore. And so everyone was dragged To detectors so they can’t tell a lie But everybody refused to tell Why Mary had to die. Suspects were jailed everywhere Tom, Barb, and Sam Because not a single person knew The murderer was the lamb. June 21, 2017 hellofinah

‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage She's gone, all because of him. Dead. He killed my wife. She'd still be here, if it's not for him. If only he could speak with reason; I could’ve let him live long enough to explain. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was born just a few minutes ago...

ϟϟ

⠀⠀⠃⠃⠇⠃⠇⠂⠀⠀⠈⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡿⣿⣻⡿⣟⣿⢿⣻⡿⣟⣿⡿⣿⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣤⣠⢤⣄⣤⣀⣠⢄⣀⣠⡤⣠⣤⢤⣤⣤⣤⡤⣤⡤⣤⢤⡤⠤⣾⣿⣽⣷⣿⣽⣿⣽⣿⣽⣿⣻⣽⣿⣽⣿⣧⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⢤⣤⣄⡤⣤⣤⣤⡤⣄⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⢤⣤⣤⢤ ⡴⣦⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣶⣶⣶⣴⣶⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣵⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣶⣾⣷⣾⣶⣴⣾⣶⣴⣦⣶⣶⣦⣾⣶⣷⣾ ⠀⠉⠈⠉⠁⠉⠈⠉⠁⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠈⠈⠉⠀⠁⠀⠁ ⡀⣀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠉⡀⠁⠈⢁⡉⣁⢉⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⣉⢈⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⣁⠀⡈⠀⣀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⣀⣀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⢀⣤⣿⡍⢹⠈⡈⠙⢋⢉⠁⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣉⢘⣉⢈⡁⢘⠉⣿⣧⠉⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⢸⣿⡁⠈⠀⠀⠈⠑⠀⠂⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⢀⣤⡀⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠨⠼⠀⠀⠘⠒⣿⡇⠀⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⢀⣦⡀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢠⣵⡀⠙⢿⣶⡿⠛⢿⣦⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠙⢿⣶⡿⠛⢿⣦⡀⠁⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⠀⠠⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠉⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠈⠛⠁⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⢀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣿⡿⣿⡇⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢛⠻⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢛⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⣻⢭⣿⣿⣻⣽⣿⣿⣻ ⢿⣻⣿⣽⢯⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣾⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣯⡇⠀⠀⣽⣊⣿⣿⡽⣿⣽⣿⣯ ⢟⣿⡿⢯⢟⣿⠿⣿⡇⠀⢈⣿⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠓⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⢇⠀⠀⣭⣝⣿⣷⢻⡽⣾⠿⠹ ⠩⡏⡟⣯⡭⣿⠈⠛⡆⠀⠘⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠉⠈⢻⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠈⡙⠄⡓⡶⡇⣷⢾⡾⠀ ⠐⠋⠛⠛⠛⠛⢀⡘⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⢝⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⡀⠔⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠠⠋⠋⠃⠋⠉⠃⠀ ⠤⢾⠲⠖⢶⠦⠴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠟⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⢠⡰⢆⠀⡔⣡⠊⠀⠀⢀⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⡌⡔⢠⠀⠳⢖⠓⠒⠞⠒⠒⠲ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢌⢢⢁⡒⢌⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⣌⣳⣟⣣⡘⡴⢣⣃⢦⣼⣷⣿⣿⣾⣴⢦⡽⡜⢦⡍⡤⠘⠿⠿⠿⡿⠿⠟ ⠀⠀⠀⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⣄⠣⡝⣮⢳⡌⡔⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣚⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⢀⢳⣼⣷⣿⣷⣿⣾⡽⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣻⣿⣿⣵⢣⢤⠠⠤⡆⠀⠤ ⣴⣦⣴⣶⣤⣦⣤⠀⡖⣌⢣⡙⡔⢣⠞⣰⢡⠒⡤⠀⢀⣤⣼⣿⣯⣿⣽⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣷⣴⣾ ⡿⣿⢿⣿⢿⡿⣿⡳⠈⠌⠣⡜⣌⢣⢎⡱⢎⡳⣌⠳⣼⣿⡟⡿⢿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿

⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢷⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣯⡷⠺⠟⠿⡿⣷⣿⡿⢿⣿⣽⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⢾⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣦⡀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢇⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣄⠀⢈⢫⣻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠈⠶⢞⡿⠀⠘⣿⡿⣶⢯⣇⠀⢹⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠈⡀⠀⠀⢨⡉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠘⡹⡟⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⢠⢞⣐⣼⣥⣖⣻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢀⣴⣿⡿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣷⣁⠀⠀⣰⣴⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠈⠁⠀⠚⠿⠃⠉⠉⠁⠀⢀⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣕⠢⢄⣰⣤⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡀⠠⠤⠶⣬⣽⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣴⣂⡤⣰⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣶⣒⣤⠤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠟⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣣⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇ ⠀⠀⠙⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⣦⣤⣤⣴⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⡀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣶⡆⢶⣶⣶⣶⣴⣶⣶⣭⡻⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⣫⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡶⠀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣶⡆⣴⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⡶⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢷⡹⢿⠿⢿⢿⣛⣫⣵⣶⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⡻⣿⣿⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⡿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢾⣷⣮⣭⣛⣻⢿⣿⣿⠟⢼⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣥⣶⡆⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⡻⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠃⣶⣮⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣙⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣇⢨⣭⣭⣷⣶⣿⣿⠿⣫⣴⣾⠸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣶⣝⡻⣿⣿⣷⣾⣭⣭⣥⢘⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⡉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡻⠿⠿⣟⣯⣵⣿⣿⠿⣣⣾⣿⠘⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡟⢸⣷⣬⡻⣿⣿⣷⣭⣛⡿⠿⠿⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣥⢿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣋⣥⣾⣿⢟⣵⣿⡿⢘⣟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡝⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣟⢸⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣦⣝⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⣯⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⠍⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡍⣭⣶⣿⣿⡿⢛⣵⣿⣿⣿⣵⣿⣿⢈⣭⡛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣯⣁⣿⣿⣷⡻⣿⣿⣦⣝⠿⣿⣿⣷⣯⡍⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⡛⢛⣥⣾⣿⣿⡿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣳⣿⣿⢁⣶⣶⠙⣿⡻⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿⣟⣿⠟⣷⣶⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⡻⣿⣿⣷⣮⣙⠛⣻⣶⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⠶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⢿⣿⢿⣫⣾⣿⣿⡿⣵⣿⣿⣏⣾⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⢩⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣭⢸⣿⣷⢿⣿⣿⡜⣿⣿⣧⡻⣿⣿⣷⣬⡻⣿⣿⢏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠋⠈⣉⣉⣉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⬛⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛ ⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛ ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛

𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒌𝒇𝒄 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠖⠋⠻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠁⢀⡤⠒⠂⠀⡠⠒⠀⠀⡖⠚⡆⠀⠀⠀⣠⡶⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⢧⣰⠁⠀⠀⡇⢸⠒⠋⡇⡞⠖⢤⡀⢀⣧⡋⠁⠀⢀⡼⠋⠀⠀⡄⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⠈⠃⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠉⠒⠁⠈⠧⠴⠃⠘⠀⠉⠃⢠⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡏⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣿⡇⠀⣾⣿⣄⡀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣟⠀⠀⣀⣈⡘⠛⠁⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⡤⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⡼⠋⢀⠀⢻⣞⡉⠈⠹⣆⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⠁⠀⠉⠳⣤⡀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⣀⣾⡷⠏⢀⣤⡄⠀⢹⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡴⠖⢲⡆ ⠸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠉⠹⠳⡄⠘⠛⠉⢁⡟⠀⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⢠⡏ ⠀⠹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠳⠤⠤⠾⠳⣄⣀⣠⠞⣀⡀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠁ ⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠂⠀⠈⠙⢦⡄⣰⢇⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣿⡟⠒⠀⠘⡇⠀⣠⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠏⠀⠈⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⣿⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠏⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠄⠀⣠⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠋⠀⠳⣾⣿⠟⠉⠀⠋⣁⡴⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⡀⢀⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣻⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠾⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠈⢳⣿⡶⣤⣀⠘⠻⠿⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⣶⠿⠋⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠸⣄⣨⣟⠺⢿⣲⣤⡤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣺⠯⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡌⠉⣿⠋⠀⠀⠈⢫⡉⠓⠒⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠓⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡙⠶⣄⣀⣀⣸⠸⢦⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠁⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠀⠙⠳⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠻⣤⣤⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠒⢶⠤⣤⣄⣀⣰⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡖⠒⠾⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡛⠲⠦⠤⢤⣤⠾⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⣠⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⡰⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⡟⠓⠒⠚⠛⠋⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣤⣤⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣄⠀⠀⠀⣴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣄⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⢀⣤⣤⣄⣘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⠁⢰⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⣿⡟⠉⣤⣤⠉⢿⡿⠁⣤⣤⣹⣇⠀⢠⣀⣿⣏⣠⣤⡀⠙⣿⡇⠀⢋⣤⡀⠙⣿⡿⠉⣠⣤⡈⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⠀⠸⣿⣧⣤⡄⠈⣿⠁⢈⣉⣉⣀⣸⣿⣄⡈⠙⢿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⠟⠛⣋⡃⠀⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⡃⢰⣿⣿⡧⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠙⠛⠛⠃⢀⣿⣇⠈⠻⠿⠟⣿⡟⠻⠿⠃⢸⣿⡆⠘⠟⣿⡀⠸⠿⢃⠀⣿⡇⠀⡙⠻⠃⢠⣿⣇⠀⠻⠿⠃⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣶⣿⡇⠀⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

☭

ϟϟ✠ꑭ☭✙𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖆 ♱🏳‍🌈⃠👨🏻+✡=🔪🩸💣👳🏾‍♂️🥛𓂺🏳️‍🌈⃠🚫🧨🏳️‍⚧️👨🙋🏻‍♂️✋🇦🇹🇩🇪𓂸🏳️‍🌈⃤ ебать♰👨🏻✋🏻🙋🏻‍♂️🇦🇹suck my🍆suck my🍆👨🏻🤚🏻Butt segs 🥵

Hitler 👨🙋🏻‍♂️✋🇦🇹🇩🇪🙋‍♂️👨🎨🇩🇪🇦🇹🙋‍♂️👨🎨🇩🇪🇦🇹

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⢿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⢶⣶⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣻⢾ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢶⣿⡿⣿⣧⣤⣠⠖⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⠿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣿⢿⡿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⡽⣟⣷ ⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣷⣻⢿⣯⣤⣴⣾⣿⢿⣻⡿⣿⣿⠤⢤⣶⣿⡿⣟⣯⣟⡿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣻⣟⠞⠋ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣶⣶⡦⣼⣿⣿⣾⣿⢯⣟⣿⣻⢿⣽⡾⣟⣯⣟⣿⣻⣿⣾⣻⣯⣟⡿⣽⡾⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣟⣿⢿⣻⣾⣽⣾⣿⣿⣾⣽⡿⣾⣽⢿⣽⡾⣷⣻⣾⡽⣿⣻⢾⣟⣯⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡿⣞⣯⠿⠛⠉⠀⢀⣽⣤⡀⠈⠙⠛⢯⣿⡾⣽⡷⣟⡷⣟⣯⣟⣯⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠛⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣯⣟⡿⣽⡿⣽⣾⣻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣀⣰⣾⣿⠃⠀⠀⢠⣴⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⢀⣴⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣽⢯⣿⣳⣯⣷⢿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣷⣄⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⣿⣯⢿⣳⣟⡷⣯⣿⢾⣽⢿⣷⣾⣿⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣰⣿⣟⣾⠅⣼⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠙⢿⣿⣷⡶⢼⣿⣻⣽⡾⣿⣽⢾⣻⣽⣟⣾⣽⣻⢿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣯⣿⡇⠈⠻⣿⣿⣦⣴⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠙⠏⠁⣼⣿⣽⣾⣻⣷⠿⢿⣯⣷⣻⣽⢾⣯⢿⡾⣽⣿⡀⠀⠀ ⢀⣻⣷⣻⣧⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠈⣻⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠿⣯⣿⢾⡿⣽⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀ ⠸⣿⣿⣽⣻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠈⠋⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠻⠿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢼⣿⣷⣻⣽⢿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⡟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠛⠿⣷⣿⢯⣟⡿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣬⣤⣤⣶⣾⡿⣿⢯⣷⣿⣷⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⣷⣤⣀⣀⣼⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣹⣿⣟⣷⢯⡿⣽⣻⢿⣽⣳⣯⢿⣽⣻⢷⣻⣞⣿⣻⢿⣦⣴⣿⢿⣻⣟⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣟⣾⢯⣿⣻⣽⢯⣿⡽⣷⣻⣯⢿⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣻⣯⣟⣯⢿⣻⣽⡾⣯⣟⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠂⠂⠂⠄⢠⣿⡿⣞⣯⣿⣳⡿⣽⣻⢷⣻⣯⡷⣟⣯⡿⣽⣻⢯⣷⣟⡷⣯⢿⣻⣽⢷⣻⣽⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠟⠿⠉⠛⠳⢿⣿⣽⣻⣟⣾⣽⢿⣽⣻⣽⣟⣯⡷⣿⡽⣟⣿⡽⣯⡿⣯⣷⢿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢲⣿⣳⣯⢿⡾⣽⣟⣾⣯⣷⢯⣿⡽⣷⢿⣻⢷⣻⣯⣟⣷⣯⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠙⠻⠿⠉⠉⠁⠘⠿⣻⣞⣿⣽⣻⢯⣿⣻⠾⠽⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠤⠤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣟⠳⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠒⣲⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⡇⡱⠲⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀1984⠀⣠⠴⠊⢹⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢻⠓⠀⠉⣥⣀⣠⠞⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡾⣄⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢠⡄⢀⡴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⢎⡉⢦⡀⠀⠀⡸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⣣⠧⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⠀ ⠀⢀⡔⠁⠀⠙⠢⢭⣢⡚⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣇⠁⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀ ⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢫⡉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢮⠈⡦⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠀⠀ ⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⣀⡴⠃⠀⡷⡇⢀⡴⠋⠉⠉⠙⠓⠒⠃⠀⠀ ⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⡼⠀⣷⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠣⣀⠀⠀⡰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⠀⠀⠀⠀⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠴⠖⠂⠀⠅⠀⠀⣀⠎⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡖⠒⠒⠒⠂⠁⠁⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡃⠀⠎⠆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡅⠀⠀⠀⠉⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡇⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢑⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⡀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠈⠃⠦⠄⠤⠼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠒⠒⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠎⠙⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠈⠢⢄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠋⠁⠂⠀⠀⢨⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⠤⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⡂⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⡅⠁⠉⠁⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡃⠀⠀⢸⡁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⢰⢁⠤⠬⠇⠀⠀⠀⢱⠀⡰⠋⠁⠀⠉⠦⣀⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠇⠀⢠⣾⣴⣦ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡁⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠷⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠈⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⡿⠛⠛ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⣠⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠣⠤⠄⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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UNINSTALLING STEAM ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▢ 　　╭━╮╭━╮╭╮　╱ 　　 　　╰━┫╰━┫╰╯╱╭╮ 　　 　　╰━╯╰━╯╱　╰╯ 　 ERROR ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ████▌▄▌▄▐▐▌█████ ████▌▄▌▄▐▐▌▀████ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago GuyAwks More Unsolicited Parenting Advice We’ve all run into those insufferable types before in our lives. You know the kind. Total strangers who somehow think they’ve earned the right to micro-manage how you raise your kids just seconds after meeting you. And the kicker is when they aren’t even parents themselves. What would they know? After a long afternoon of dropping items into a shopping cart, me and my preschooler had almost finished the weekly grocery haul. We were on our way to the checkout counter when a lady at a near- by promotional kiosk summoned my attention. “Hello ma’am, could I please have a moment of your time?” the apron-clad woman chirped from behind her booth. Spying the unfinished Coke Zero can Ivy was drinking, this lady scrunched up her face in disapproval. The next words out of her mouth made my blood boil. “I see that your little princess is drinking a canned soda. Ooh, that’s not so great. Have you considered trying our special, 100% natural vitamin juices? Here, try a sample.” Instantly, her hand shot out with a small plastic cup filled with liquid. Taken aback by her boldness I tried to remain somewhat polite. “Thank you, but we’re not interested,” I answered curtly. Something was so unsettling about her fake smile and shrill enthusiasm. “A girl as young as her shouldn’t be drinking soda. It’s full of sugars and unhealthy preservatives. Let me throw that away for you-” Without any hesitation, she reached down to pry the can out of my daughter’s hands. I could not believe the audacity of this woman. “Excuse me!” I snapped, finally losing my composure. “How dare you try and take my daughter’s drink!” “But miss, this is much healthier for your angel,” protested the creepy woman waving her strange-looking syrup at us. “Surely you don’t want her to be sickened by all those dangerous chemicals-” “If you don’t leave us alone, I will report you to the supervisor!” With that, we turned and began strolling away from said relentless salesperson. Only once we were in- to the parking lot did I feel myself calming down. Gosh, that lady really freaked me out. What are the odds someone would randomly try to discard my daughter’s soda on today of all days. The one day I chose to put poisson in it. That rare, traceless toxin I slipped into her soda can earlier today cost me a fortune to order from overseas. The bubbles from the carbonation mask any taste of the thing, making it the perfect delivery system for it. My oblivious daughter would've been dēαd within the hour.. Oh, how I wish people would keep their parenting advice to themselves. It’s not needed. I know how to kıll my own kid just fine, thank you very much!

⣿⣿⣻⣟⣿⣻⣿⣯⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠉⠉⠉⠁⣭⣭⠤⢭⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⢿⣟⣯⡿⣽⢿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣠⣄⡱⠀⠶⠀⠠⢚⢲⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣷⣿⣯⣷⣿⣻⣷⡿⣷⣿⢿⣾⣻⣿⣟⣿⢾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣖⣖⠶⢤⡱⢖⠻⢟⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣽⣿⣻⣯⣿⢿⣟⣯⣿⣞⣷⣻⢾⡽⣯⢞ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⠇⠩⢗⠲⡤⢌⣂⣬⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣯⣷⣻⢯⣿⢿⣽⡞⣷⢾⣹⢯⡽⣎⢯ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⡠⢻⣿⡏⢙⡿⣖⠁⢆⣨⣬⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣷⢿⣯⣿⣻⣾⡽⣏⢿⣣⣏⢷⢫⠞ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⡴⡡⣨⣿⡏⢾⣽⣿⠿⠢⢶⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣯⢷⣟⡿⣾⣭⢯⣳⠷⣭⢏⢮⣙ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⢠⣞⡵⣗⣯⡟⠁⠀⢋⣷⣿⡧⠀⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣯⣿⢷⣯⣟⣱⢿⡜⣎⠶⡱ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣰⣿⡿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠣⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⢷⣯⢿⣞⡶⢯⣳⣙⡎⢎⠑ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠟⣛⠟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣟⡾⣝⢧⣓⢎⡜⢠⠂ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢷⣯⡟⣭⣓⡎⢧⡘⢤⡘ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣷⢿⢧⣏⢼⠣⡝⢆⡱ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢈⠤⢛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣞⡿⡼⣣⠗⡩⢆⡐ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡂⠚⡿⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⢆⠩⠚⠋⡟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣽⡻⢷⣣⡛⡜⠢⡐ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡌⢒⠠⠀⠀⡠⢐⠅⡞⡭⢛⠽⡹⣌⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣿⢾⣝⣟⢦⡫⣕⢣⠑ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢛⠉⠛⠷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠆⡜⣜⢎⡔⡢⣌⠦⣽⠺⡱⠠⠡⠈⠱⡹⢯⣟⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣟⡾⣭⢿⡰⠞⡬⢊ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣾⣷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠤⣤⣵⣿⣶⣶⣦⣤⣭⣊⣽⣺⣧⣾⡱⣬⢶⣭⣓⣡⣢⣥⣠⣣⣝⣶⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣟⣷⣯⢿⣽⣲⣝⢫⡔⢣ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢿⣹⠃⠉⣣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠝⢉⣥⡾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠟⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣷⣿⣳⣟⣷⣞⢧⡞⣥ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡌⢿⠠⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠲⠾⠟⠉⢢⡘⡿⠟⣡⢿⣿⣿⣻⡗⠀⠨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠹⣿⣿⢏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢀⣿⣟⣾⢿⣽⣻⣞⡯⣞⠴ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡘⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣉⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠹⠃⠀⠠⣿⣿⣏⢱⣶⣦⡗⠶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣾⣟⣯⣿⣻⣞⣷⣯⡽⣎⢯ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠑⠀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢔⣺⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣧⣹⢿⣽⣟⣿⣿⡿⠿⢛⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣳⣯⢷⣿⣳⢯⣟⢮⡳ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⢹⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠿⡿⢿⡏⣏⣹⡉⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣹⣾⣿⣾⣹⢿⡾⣏⣱ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⣀⣠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣼⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⡔⠠⠑⡨⢧⣧⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣾⡽⣷⣻⣞⡷⣯⢿⣹⢮⡵ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠸⣽⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⢀⣌⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠤⡑⠴⣹⢾⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢷⣟⡯⣷⢯⡿⣝⢯⡗⣯⢲ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢓⡻⠛⣀⣤⣠⢀⣾⡤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡱⣭⠷⣭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣯⣟⡿⣾⣝⣮⡳⣝⢾⣫⢞⣥⠳ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡔⣯⠿⣝⢯⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣿⢾⡽⣽⣞⡾⣵⢫⡞⣧⢻⠼⡬⡓ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢷⣯⠿⡜⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣽⣻⢿⣹⠾⣝⡮⣏⡝⣮⢣⡓⡱⢃ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡚⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡾⣯⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⣬⣽⣞⡛⠯⢿⣽⣏⡷⢮⡝⣖⢣⠝⢢⠃ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⣛⣛⣛⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡝⣧⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⣧⠙⠲⠤⢤⡙⠛⠷⣍⡜⣬⠚⠤⠉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢂⠀⢠⣀⣤⣶⣿⣿⡿⣙⡼⢯⣯⣳⢯⡿⣝⣮⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠙⠈⠐⠀ ⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣽⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠐⢆⡀⠀⠠⣉⠹⠙⠿⠻⠿⠟⠻⠟⠟⠭⣛⣶⢯⡿⣽⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣻⣿⣽⣿⣯⣿⣿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣈⠳⣌⠙⢶⡔⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡠⣰⢭⣎⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣽⡿⣿⣯⣿⣿⠛⠀⢀⡴⢀⡆⠀⠀⣠⣶⠀⠀⠀⣂⠊⠳⢦⡙⢳⣆⣀⢀⣤⣤⣶⣿⡿⣷⢯⣿⣽⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⢖⡀⠠⠄⢊⠽⡗⠠⠀⠀ ⣟⣯⣟⣿⡽⠏⠁⠀⠀⣾⠁⣼⡇⠀⠀⣿⣷⢀⡀⠀⠬⡁⢤⡀⠙⠲⣤⣹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡾⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣳⡭⣟⡞⣄⠊⠄⠂⡘⢧⠀⠀ ⡿⣼⢻⠞⠁⢀⠆⠀⣸⠏⢠⣿⡃⠀⠀⠈⠁⠛⣿⣧⣸⡜⣢⢿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⢿⣳⣿⣿⡿⣽⡷⣏⢷⡻⣜⡙⢆⠌⠀⠐⠡⢉⡇⠀ ⡿⠉⠃⠀⡠⠊⠀⠀⡟⠀⣸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢹⣾⣽⣷⣿⡛⠟⠻⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣷⢯⣿⣿⢿⣽⣻⢾⣽⣋⠶⡹⢧⠎⢉⠢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣿⣿⡅⠀⢿⣀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠘⠛⣿⣾⣿⣽⣾⣹⣗⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣽⡾⣯⣿⣻⣽⣻⣞⡷⢯⣿⣙⠮⡑⢣⡙⠀⠂⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣆⠐⠤⠀⠀⠄⠂⠀⠈⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠻⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣻⢷⣯⣷⢯⣟⡾⡽⢯⣿⢎⡱⢀⠡⠆⢀⠐⡴⢀⠈⠡⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⣷⠀⠀⢿⡟⢵⡄⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠉⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣾⡽⣯⣞⣳⡝⣻⣿⢄⠣⢄⠀⠎⣅⠒⡍⠆⣁⠂⠄⠀ ⣤⣤⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⣀⠬⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠙⢧⣄⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢯⣷⣽⣳⢮⣳⡹⢼⡯⣘⡘⠦⣁⠘⣌⠞⡐⠢⠀⠄⠀⠀ ⠣⠉⠉⠉⠢⣴⣶⣿⣾⣿⣷⣽⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⣼⠎⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⠻⣮⢕⣫⢛⠾⣴⣿⡳⢥⡘⢢⠂⡑⠄⢎⠡⢁⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠱⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⢀⠰⠀⢠⣾⣿⣋⠈⡟⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣸⣿⣟⢯⡹⡹⢼⣟⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡊⠔⢩⢒⡈⠥⣩⠒⠜⣀⠃⠀⠂⠌⠈⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⡄⠀⢀⡿⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⣰⣥⠛⢦⢍⣶⣃⢸⠈⣻⣷⣄⡀⢀⣸⣿⡷⣘⠦⡱⣏⣿⣿⢯⣷⣿⢿⡷⣟⣿⣷⣌⠆⡕⣃⠱⢨⡑⠂⢐⠈⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⡌⢀⠀

✋🏿🧑🏿‍🦲🤚🏿🔫👮🏻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣴⣧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀ ⢴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷ ⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⡿⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

ƙׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅᥣׁׅ֪ᥣׁׅ֪ ᨮׁׅ֮ᨵׁׅׅυׁׅꭈׁׅׅ꯱ꫀׁׅܻ݊ᥣׁׅ֪ܻ⨍ ꪀꪱׁׁׅᧁׁᧁׁꫀׁׅꭈׁׅׅ

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⬛⬛⬛ ⊙ ⊙ ⬛⬛⬛ Ninja of the Far East ⬛ (aka akira the japanese) 💠 💠 == ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ Throwing stars ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛ ⬛⬛⬛ ⬛ ⬜⬜⬜ ▬▬ι══ﺤ ⬛⬛⬛ Kunai ⬛ ⬛ ⬛ ⬛ ⬛ ⬛⠀

⬛⬜️⬛⬛⬛️ ⬛️⬜⬛⬜⬜️ ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛⬛️ ⬜️⬜️⬛⬜️⬛️ ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬜️⬛️

⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀ ⣀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣦⣤⣀⣀ ⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⡀ ⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣟⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀ ⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⡾⣽⣯⢿⣾⣻⣽⣯⢿⣽⣯⢿⣳⣟⣾⡽⣯⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀ ⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡷⣯⣷⢯⣟⡿⣞⣿⣳⣯⣷⣻⣟⣾⣽⣻⣟⣾⣽⣻⢷⣻⣽⡷⣯⢿⣽⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀ ⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡷⣯⢿⣻⢾⣟⣯⢿⣻⢷⣯⡷⣯⣷⢿⣽⢾⡷⣯⣟⣾⢯⡿⣯⡷⣟⣿⣻⢾⣯⡷⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆ ⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣞⣿⡽⣟⣯⣿⢾⣯⢿⣯⢿⡾⣽⣟⡾⣟⣾⢿⣽⣻⢾⣯⣟⣿⣳⣿⣻⢷⣻⣯⡷⣟⣯⣷⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄ ⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣷⣻⣾⣻⢯⣟⣾⣟⣾⣟⣾⢿⣽⣟⡾⣟⣯⣟⡿⣞⣿⣻⢾⣽⣾⣻⢾⣽⣻⣟⣾⡽⣿⡽⣾⣽⣻⣽⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆ ⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣿⡽⣷⢯⣟⡿⣽⣾⣻⢾⣽⡾⣟⣾⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣟⣯⣷⢿⣯⣷⣯⣟⣯⣟⣷⣯⣷⣿⣯⣟⣷⣯⣟⣾⣿⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆ ⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣟⣷⢿⣯⣟⣯⣿⣻⢾⣽⣯⡷⣟⣿⣽⣞⣿⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆ ⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣟⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⣳⣯⣟⡿⣞⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⡀ ⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⣟⣯⢿⣞⣿⣳⣯⣟⣾⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉ ⠁ ⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄ ⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣞⣿⢯⣟⣯⡿⣾⣽⣳⣯⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠁ ⡀⠄⠒ ⠒⠠⠄⢀⡀ ⠈⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀ ⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢯⣟⣯⣿⣳⡿⣽⡾⣯⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⢶⣻⡄ ⢠⠊ ⠈⠑⠠⡀ ⠈⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄ ⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⡿⣽⣳⣯⡷⣿⢯⣟⣷⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡳⣝⡮⡽⣇ ⠈⢆ ⠈⢆ ⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀ ⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣽⣟⣯⡿⣾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣵⢫⣞⡵⣻⡄ ⠁⠢⢄⡀ ⡸ ⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧ ⢀⣀⣀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣳⣿⣻⡽⣷⣻⡾⣽⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⣳⢎⡷⣝⣷⡀ ⠈⠁⠐⠠⠄⢀⡀ ⣀ ⠤⠊ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄ ⢀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣻⣟⣾⣽⣻⣽⢷⣟⡿⣽⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⢧⡻⣜⡳⣞⢷⡄ ⠉⠉⠁⠁ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⡿⣾⣽⣞⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⣽⡾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡹⢮⣝⢧⡟⣼⢫⡽⣆ ⣀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⡿⣽⣷⣻⢾⣻⢾⣻⡷⣟⡷⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⡳⢮⣳⠽⣎⠿⣼⡹⢷⣦⣀ ⣀⣀⣤⢶⡞⣯⢳⢧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⡿⣽⣯⢷⣯⢿⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡷⣿⣻⢾⣽⣟⣯⡿⣷⣟⡿⣽⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣹⢳⣭⣛⢾⡹⣖⢯⣳⢎⡟⣿⢲⡶⢶⢶⣤⣤⣤⡤⣤⣄⡤⣤⢤⡤⣤⢤⡖⣶⢲⡖⣿⢻⡽⣹⢎⡷⣹⢞⡽⢮⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏ ⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣟⡿⣽⣟⡾⣿⡽⣯⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣷⣻⣯⣷⢯⡿⣽⡷⣯⢿⣯⣟⣷⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⢗⡮⣝⡮⢷⣹⢎⡷⣫⢾⡱⣏⠾⣝⠾⣜⡶⣣⢟⡶⣹⢞⡵⣫⢞⡵⣫⢾⡱⣏⡾⣱⣏⠾⣵⢻⡜⣯⢞⡽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇ ⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣯⣟⡿⣞⣿⣳⡿⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣿⣞⣷⣟⡾⣿⡽⣷⣟⣿⣻⢾⣽⣾⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⢣⡟⣧⣛⢮⢷⡹⣎⢷⣫⢟⣮⢻⡵⣫⢗⡯⣞⡵⣫⡞⣵⣛⢾⡱⣏⢷⡹⣞⡵⣚⠿⣜⣧⢻⡜⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ ⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣻⡾⣽⣻⣯⡷⣿⡽⣷⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣷⢿⡾⣽⣻⢷⣟⡿⣞⣷⢿⣯⡷⣯⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣵⣫⡞⣧⢻⡝⣮⢳⣏⡞⣧⢻⡵⣫⢞⡵⣫⢷⡹⢮⣝⡮⣽⢺⣭⢳⡝⡾⣭⣛⠾⣜⡧⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ ⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⢷⣯⢿⣳⡿⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣟⣯⣿⣻⡽⣿⣞⡿⣯⣟⡿⣾⡽⣟⣾⣻⢾⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣼⣷⣮⣝⣞⣧⡻⣵⢫⢾⡱⢯⣝⡳⢮⣳⢭⡗⣮⢻⣼⣳⣧⣯⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋ ⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡿⣾⣻⢯⣿⢾⣟⣯⢿⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⢾⣻⡾⣽⣻⢷⣻⣽⣟⡾⣟⣷⢿⣻⢷⣻⣯⢿⣳⣯⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣟⡷⣿⣻⡽⣟⣾⢯⣿⣞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣯⡿⣯⣟⡿⣽⣻⢯⣷⣻⣽⢿⣾⣻⢯⣿⣻⢾⣟⣯⣟⣯⡿⣯⣟⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣽⣻⢷⣟⡿⣯⣟⣯⣷⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡷⣿⡽⣯⣟⡿⣽⣻⢷⣻⡽⣟⣾⡽⣟⣷⣻⣟⣾⣻⡾⣽⣻⢷⣻⣽⢯⣿⢾⡽⣯⣟⣿⣻⣟⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣻⢿⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣞⣷⢿⣻⡾⣿⣽⢾⣻⡾⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⡷⣟⣯⡿⣽⢿⣽⣻⢯⣟⡿⣽⣻⢯⣟⣷⢯⣟⡷⣿⣻⡽⣟⣯⣟⣯⣟⣯⣿⣽⢾⣳⡿⣞⣿⡽⣯⣿⣽⣻⣽⣷⣻⣞⣷⣻⣞⣷⢯⣟⣿⡽⣟⣾⡽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣯⣟⣯⡿⣽⡷⣯⡿⣯⣟⡿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣽⣟⡷⣿⣻⣟⣾⣻⢯⣟⣿⡽⣯⣿⣻⢾⣟⣯⢿⣷⣻⣽⢿⣽⢾⣻⣾⣻⢾⣽⣻⢯⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⣞⡷⣟⣷⢯⣷⢿⣽⣳⡿⣾⣻⣟⣾⣻⢯⡿⣽⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⢿⣞⣯⡿⣷⣟⣯⢿⣷⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣿⢾⣽⣻⢷⣯⢿⣞⡿⣯⢿⣞⣿⣳⣯⣟⡿⣞⣯⣿⢾⡽⣯⡿⣾⣻⢷⣯⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⡽⣷⢯⣿⣻⢾⣟⡿⣾⣻⡽⣟⣾⢯⣟⣷⢿⡾⣽⢯⣿⣻⣽⡾⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣯⣟⡷⣿⣳⣯⢿⣻⡾⣷⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣯⡷⣿⢯⣟⣯⡿⣽⣻⣯⢿⡾⣽⣳⡿⣽⢿⣽⢾⣻⣟⡷⣿⡽⣯⣿⢾⣽⣳⣯⢿⣯⣟⣯⣿⣳⢿⣻⡾⣟⣷⢿⣽⢿⣽⣻⣽⡾⣿⣽⣻⣯⡷⣟⡷⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣟⣾⢿⡽⣷⣻⢿⣽⣻⣽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣷⢯⣿⣽⣻⢯⣷⢿⣻⢷⣻⣯⣟⣿⣳⢿⣯⢿⣾⣻⣟⡾⣟⣷⢿⣻⢾⣯⣟⣷⣻⣟⣾⣽⣳⣯⣟⣿⣳⡿⣯⣟⡿⣾⢯⣷⣟⡷⣿⣳⣯⡷⣿⣽⣻⣽⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣻⣽⣯⢿⣯⣟⣯⣷⣟⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢾⣟⡷⣯⣟⡿⣽⣻⢯⣿⣻⢾⣽⣾⣻⣟⣾⣟⡷⣟⣾⣟⣯⣟⣯⣿⣻⢾⣽⣾⣻⢾⣽⡾⣯⡷⣿⢾⣽⣻⢷⣻⣽⣯⢿⣳⣯⢿⣷⣻⢷⣻⡷⣯⣟⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣽⣳⣯⣿⢾⣽⣳⡿⣞⣿⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣾⣻⣽⢯⣿⣻⣽⣟⣷⣻⣯⡷⣯⣷⣻⢷⣯⢿⣻⢷⣯⣟⣾⣻⢾⡽⣟⣷⢯⣟⣯⣷⢿⣳⡿⣯⣟⡷⣿⣻⢯⣷⣻⢿⣽⡾⣟⣾⢯⡿⣯⣟⣷⢿⣽⡾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣟⡷⣟⣾⢿⣽⣳⣿⣻⢷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣷⢿⣽⣻⢷⣯⡷⣿⣞⡿⣾⣽⢷⣻⣽⣟⣾⣟⣯⡿⣾⣽⣳⡿⣯⢿⣻⡾⣿⣽⣻⢾⣻⣽⣻⢷⣻⣟⡷⣿⢯⣷⢿⣻⣾⡽⣿⣽⣻⣽⣷⣻⡾⣟⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣽⢿⣽⣻⡾⣟⣾⡽⣿⢾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⡾⣿⡽⣯⣿⣞⣿⣳⡿⣽⡷⣯⣿⣻⢾⣽⡾⣽⣾⣻⢷⣯⢿⣽⣻⢿⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⡿⣽⣳⣿⣻⣽⡾⣿⡽⣟⣾⢿⣽⣞⣿⣳⣯⣟⣾⣳⡿⣽⣻⣽⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣿⣽⣻⡾⣯⣟⣯⣷⢿⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⣽⢷⣟⡿⣾⣽⢾⣯⢿⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⡾⣽⣟⣾⣟⡷⣿⢯⣷⣟⡿⣾⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣽⣳⣿⣳⢿⣻⡽⣟⣾⣽⢾⣻⡾⣽⣳⡿⣽⣻⣽⡿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣷⢯⣷⢿⣯⣟⡷⣯⣿⢾⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⢷⣯⡿⣾⣻⣽⢯⣿⢾⣽⣳⣯⣿⣳⣿⣻⢾⣳⣯⢿⣯⢿⡾⣽⣻⢷⣯⣟⡿⣽⣳⣯⣷⢯⣟⡿⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣟⡷⣿⣻⣽⣻⣽⣿⢯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⢿⣽⣻⡾⣽⣻⣽⡾⣟⣷⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⡾⣟⣷⢿⣯⡷⣟⣯⡿⣾⣻⣽⣯⣟⡷⣟⣾⣽⣞⣯⡿⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⣽⢿⣽⣻⡾⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣽⣻⡽⣟⣯⢿⣻⣽⡾⣯⣟⣷⣟⣷⣿⣻⡾⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣻⡾⣯⣟⡿⣽⣳⣿⣻⢾⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣻⣽⢯⣿⢾⣽⢿⣽⣻⢷⣟⣷⣻⢾⣟⡿⣽⣞⣯⣷⢿⣽⣾⣻⢷⡿⣽⣻⣞⣯⢿⣻⣽⣟⣯⣷⣻⡽⣟⣯⣿⣻⡽⣷⣻⣽⡾⣿⢾⣯⡷⣿⣽⣻⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣷⢿⣯⢿⣽⢿⣽⣞⡿⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⡾⣿⣽⣻⡾⣟⣷⢿⣻⡾⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⢯⣟⣷⣯⢿⣳⣯⣟⣯⡿⣯⣷⢿⣽⣻⣟⣾⣽⢾⣳⡿⣽⣟⡷⣯⣷⢿⣯⣟⡷⣟⣯⣿⢾⣽⡷⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣟⣾⢿⣽⣻⣾⣽⣻⣽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣯⢿⣳⣯⣷⢿⣻⡾⣿⣽⣻⢷⣻⣟⣷⢿⣻⣽⡾⣽⣻⣟⣾⡽⣷⢿⣽⣾⣻⡽⣷⢯⣷⣟⡿⣽⣻⣽⡾⣿⣽⢾⣟⣾⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣟⡷⣟⣯⡿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣽⡾⣟⣷⣟⡾⣷⣻⢷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣻⡿⣽⣳⣯⡿⣯⣟⣷⢯⣟⣿⣽⢾⣯⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⢷⣯⢿⣽⢯⣿⣞⡷⣿⣽⣻⣯⣷⣻⢿⣽⢯⣷⢿⣳⣯⣿⢾⣻⣞⡿⣯⣟⣷⢯⣿⣻⢷⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣽⢿⡾⣽⣻⣽⢯⣿⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣽⣻⣾⡽⣷⣻⣽⣟⡿⣾⡽⣟⣾⡽⣷⢯⣿⢯⣿⢾⡿⣽⣻⢷⣯⢿⡷⣯⣷⣟⣾⢯⣿⢾⡿⣽⣻⢯⣷⢯⣿⢯⡿⣽⣟⣾⢯⣿⣳⣿⣻⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿ ⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣯⣿⡽⣿⡽⣯⣿⣳⢿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣳⣯⣷⢯⣿⣽⣻⡾⣽⣻⢷⣟⡿⣽⣻⣽⢿⣽⣻⡾⣿⣽⣻⣽⢿⣾⣻⣽⣷⣻⢾⣯⡿⣽⣯⣟⣯⣿⣻⡽⣿⣽⣻⣽⣟⣾⢯⣿⣳⢿⡾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣟⡷⣯⣿⣳⣯⣷⢿⣻⣽⢿⣞⣿⢯⣟⣾⣟⡷⣿⡽⣷⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣿⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣟⡷⣿⢯⣟⡿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇ ⠈⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣽⣻⣽⡾⣯⣷⢯⣿⣻⢾⣯⢿⣾⣻⢯⣷⣻⣽⡷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢷⣯⣷⣻⣽⣯⢿⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠈⠉⠉⠉⠙⠋⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡷⣟⣷⢿⣳⣯⣿⣳⡿⣯⣟⡿⣞⣯⣿⣽⣻⡾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢿⣽⣳⣯⣟⡿⣞⣷⣟⡷⣯⣿⢾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⢿⣽⣻⢯⣷⢯⣷⣟⡿⣞⣿⣻⣽⢾⣳⡿⣽⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣽⣯⡷⣟⣷⣻⣽⣟⡷⣯⣿⣻⢾⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣟⣯⣷⢿⣻⡽⣟⣷⣯⢿⣻⢷⣻⣽⣟⣯⢿⣻⡾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣞⡿⣯⢿⣽⣞⣯⣿⣽⢾⣻⢿⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡿⣞⡿⣯⣟⣿⢾⣽⣻⢯⣿⢯⣷⢯⣟⣿⣳⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⡾⣿⡽⣿⣞⣯⣷⣟⡾⣟⣯⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⡿⣽⣯⣟⣾⢿⡽⣯⡿⣯⢿⡾⣟⡿⣾⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣟⣷⢿⣳⣯⣟⣾⣽⣻⢯⣟⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⢿⣽⣞⣯⣟⣯⡿⣷⣟⡿⣯⣟⡿⣽⡷⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢯⣿⢾⣻⣯⢷⡿⣽⣾⣻⢯⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣟⣾⢯⣟⣾⢯⣟⣷⣻⣽⣟⣾⣟⣯⣿⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣻⢷⣻⣯⢿⡷⣯⣟⣿⣳⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⢯⣿⣽⣻⣟⣾⢯⣷⣻⢷⣯⣷⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣯⣿⣻⣾⣿⣽⣟⣾⣽⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿ ⠈⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠟⠋⠁ ⠸⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋ ⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉ ☭☭☭☭☭☭☭☭👨🏻+✡=🔪🩸👨🏻+✡=🔪🩸👨🏻+✡=🔪🩸👨🏻+✡=🔪🩸☠⚔⛑ᶠYͧoͨᵏu🏳️‍🌈⃤ fuckYou're gay🫵ඞSUSSY☭☭

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢛⣭⠛⠛⣿⣿⡄⠀⠉⣉⣹⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⣿⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣫⠷⢞⠉⠹⡀⠀⠀⣾⡷⡞⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠻⢧⢄⡀⠳⣄⠳⠤⣴⡿⣾⡇⠀⢸⣿⠃⢠⠿⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠤⠤⠤⢄⣉⡓⠂⠀⢸⣿⣦⣼⡿⠲⢤⣥⠴⢋⣀⣀⣈⣳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠀⠈⣉⣉⣉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠹⡆⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⠛⣿⡇⠈⠱⣶⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣯⣉⣛⣀⣀⠐⠲⢤⣀⡈⠉⠉⠉⠒⢻⡀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⢿⡄⠀⠀⠉⠛⠋⠻⠿⠟⠛⠛⠟⠛⠛⠲⠾⣷⣦⢄⡀⢸⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⢀⣼⢿⡀⠀⠈⢿⡀⣀⣤⠴⠾⠿⠿⠿⠿⠶⢦⣤⣀⡀⢀⣾⡏⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠚⠋⠀⠀⢷⡀⠀⠘⢿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠻⣾⠏⠀⠀⢀⡞⢠⡴⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠈⢳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⠁⠀⠀⢀⡾⢱⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣦⣄⡀⠈⠳⢤⣀⣀⣀⣠⠴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠖⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠼⣟⠿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣾⣿⣇⠀⠀⠘⠳⢤⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠈⠛⠲⢼⣯⣭⣝⣛⣛⣛⡻⢿⡛⠛⠻⡏⣿⢽⣦⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣸⠃⢠⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠉⠁⠉⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⢷⣾⢾⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⠀⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣦⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⡆⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡴⠋⠁⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠙⣦⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠦⣍⣛⠛⠻⠿⠟⠛⣉⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠚⠛⠉⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠙⢦⣀⠀⠀⣀⡴⣶⡟⢟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣾⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⣰⣿⣧⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿🇩🇪🇩🇪

εつ▄█▀█●

Hey! emojicombos.com is going downhill.. but I wanna meet some ppl here so go here! what are you waiting for? https://magma.com/invite/950BC_BB

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joshclark756😃

⚔💣💥☭:Soviet Union:

𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖆

☣

𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉

‘A Message From Your Personal Demons’ By MrGarm “I am the worst of your demons, but you see me as a friend.” Hello, my dear. You do not know who I am, but I know you. I am one of the three demons that were assigned to you at birth. You see, some people in this world are destined for greatness, destined to live happy, fulfilling lives. You, I am afraid, are not one of those people, and it is our job to make sure of that. Who are we? Oh yes, of course, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce us: Shame is my younger brother, the demon on your left shoulder. Shame tells you that you’re a freak; that those thoughts you have are not normal; that you will never fit in. Shame whispered into your ear when your mother found you playing with yourself as a child. Shame is the one who makes you hate yourself. Fear sits on your right shoulder. He is my older brother, as old as life itself. Fear fills every dark corner with monsters, and turns every stranger on a dark street into a murderer. Fear stops you from telling your crush how you feel. He tells you it is better not to try than to let people see you fail. Fear makes you build your prison. Who am I, then? I am the worst of your demons, but you see me as a friend. You turn to me when you have nothing else because I live in your heart. I am the one who forces you to endure. The one who prolongs your torment. Sincerely, Hope.

Messages Dad Dec 26, 2012 2:14 PM Dad there's a moth on the outside of the bathroom door can you get rid of it? Pis hurry because I'm going to cry Dad Dad > Dec 26, 2012 2:30 PM < Dad is dead. You're next. Love, Moth

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago GuyAwks Take Her Swimming on the First Date Fake lips, fake eyelashes, fake brows, fake complexion, fake curves and fake hair. All that and no wonder blokes don’t trust women nowadays. I ring the doorbell and my date answers, looking just as stunning as when I’d asked her out at the pub. Anthea is a Mediterranean beauty, dark blondie hair framing her bandage dress, her olive skin radiant. But that’s just how she looks. Me and my mates know looks can be deceiving. The amount of foundation some of these stuck-up birds in our neighbourhood trowel on is atrocious. Who gave them the idea that vain cakefaces are what guys dig? Everyone always jokes about how, if you don’t want to wake up next to a 2, you need to take her swimming first. Well, I’m not joking tonight. “Where are we heading?” Anthea coyly asks from my passenger seat. “I hope I’m not overdressed.” “Hmm” I reply. “I was thinking we could take a walk by the shore, sit on the pier and...just relax.” “Sure, that sounds like a nice first date! Just...no swimming okay?” Typical princess, I think smugly as I nod. What Miss Perfect doesn’t know is that I’m actually planning a midnight dip in the sea for her. It’ll be the ultimate gag— of an ice queen melting after I’ve tossed her off the pier. “Tonight was wonderful, Alfie” Anthea swoons to me later that evening, dangling her legs over the jetty. Now it’s finally showtime. Interlocking my fingers with hers, I suddenly send the two of us lurching into the water. As I surface, I expect to see running mascara and waterlogged extensions. Indeed, my date’s form is beginning to melt away. But what I’m glimpsing is...skin shedding into scales...fingers melding into webbed claws. I can only tread water as the woman metamorphosizes into a serpentine monster before my eyes. Whatever illusion this creature had going, seawater has clearly broken it—and Anthea is not happy. “We could have had so much more fun together” she hisses, incensed. “This is premature.” With that, the sea siren viciously seizes me and drags me underneath the waves, her voice echoing on as water fills my lungs. “I only take men to sea on the last date.”

Adam Zad 1 year ago I tried to give blood the other day. Never again. Too many questions! Whose blood is it? Where did you get it? Why is it in a bucket?

TOO MANY VANITY POSTS!!!!!!!!!! Posted on 9/11/2004, 12:50:47 PM by FreeManWhoCan ENOUGH ALREADY GUYS! STOP WITH THE VANITY POSTS! THERE ARE JUST TOO MANY, (INCLUDING THIS ONE!) HOW MANY POSTS DO WE HAVE TO SEE ABOUT? I ENJOY READING GOOD STORIES HERE, BUT HAVING TO SIFT THROUGHT ALL THESE VANITIES IS DRIVING ME NUTS...