How To Never Stop Being Sad Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste How To Never Stop Being Sad Emojis & Symbols Go to shortscarystoriesr/shortscarystories5 mo. ag

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 5 mo. ago CBenson1273 My Customer Kept Telling Me His Angel Number When I was in college, I worked part time at the local coffee shop. It wasn’t my dream job, but the pay was good so I couldn’t complain. There was one regular who always visited during my shift. He always came in at 1:15pm, sat at the same table, ordered the same meal, and ate quietly while drawing in his notebook. He was always polite and tipped well, so I didn’t mind. One day I asked another server about him. “Oh, that’s Danny! I think he’s a little slow. He never talks - he only ever communicates in pictures. But he’s a real sweetheart.” He was a sweetheart, just shy. I brought his food every day and smiled at him. One day he drew a picture on the bottom of his receipt - a small bird. I liked it and told him so. From then on, every day he’d draw me a picture in his sketchbook. Birds, cats, flowers. They always made me smile. One day he drew a picture of bird wings with the number 119 written beneath them. I asked what it meant, but he just pointed at the wings and the number. So I did some research. Apparently 119 is an “angel number” - it represents new beginnings, positive energy, and prosperity. I thought it was sweet that he’d draw that for me, so I hung it up behind the counter. I guess he liked that, because afterward all his pictures were the same as that one. One day a young man entered the shop. As I walked toward him to ask what he wanted, I saw an expression on Danny’s face I’d never seen before - complete, utter terror. As I passed by Danny, the new customer pulled a gun from his jacket and aimed it at me. Everything next happened in slow motion. He pulled the trigger. Danny jumped from his seat and dove in front of me. There was a loud bang. Danny fell to the floor. I screamed. The shooter raised the gun to his own head and fired. The police eventually came, but too late. Danny died holding my hand and smiling at me. Weeks later, his mother visited me at the shop. “I just wanted to thank you. Danny didn’t have many friends, but he really liked you. Thanks for being kind to him.” “It was my pleasure,” I replied. “He was a really sweet person. And a good artist - his pictures always brightened my day.” “Really?” she replied. “Can I see one?” I showed her the ones behind the counter. “Apparently he was very big on his angel number - he drew it for me all the time.” At that moment, I realized that the wings in the picture looked just like those on the jacket of the man who’d shot Danny. Then I looked over - his mother was gaping at the picture in shock. “What?” I asked, concerned. She turned and looked at me. “Danny was dyslexic.”

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They said I wouldn't last 5 minutes in the old haunted house. And yet, here I am still 130 years later.
r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago iiHighwind Extinction She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. It was eons ago that she had first awoken in that bleak and dreary place with neither memories nor purpose. The inhabitants were content to go about their everyday lives and ignored all of her attempts to communicate. Rejected and alone, she retreated to her own desolate corner and spent her days in a daze. As the days turned to years, and the inhabitants grew old, died and were replaced by their descendants, she alone remained untouched by the passage of time. Isolated and driven nearly to the point of madness, she cursed at the heavens, believing her isolation and solitude to be some form of punishment for past sins. But one day, out of the blue, something miraculous happened. She became pregnant. It was an impossible pregnancy. She hadn't had any relations with any of the inhabitants after all. But to her, it didn't matter. The birth of her child would be the death of her solitude. And so ages passed, and her child had given birth to children of her own, and them children of their own. All immaculate conceptions. All untouched by time. She had become the founder of a community. Ignored by the inhabitants, her community thrived. She was finally happy. But alas, her happiness was not to be. Everything changed when the men in white attacked. Perhaps one of her great great great grandchildren had wandered into their territory, or perhaps they had taken offence at some unknown transgressions. She had no idea. The men in white ignored all attempts to negotiate, ignored her pleas, ignored the cries of her children, ignored their cries of surrender. And to her horror, she discovered that even though they were immune to the passage of time, they were mortals just like everyone else. They descended like a force of nature, cleaving through her community and exterminating anyone they came across with extreme prejudice. No one was spared, not even the original inhabitants. Reeling in grief as the men in white surrounded her, she had lashed out, determined to bring as many of them with her as she possibly could. She would fight tooth and nail. She would make them suffer. Now, as she lay in a field of carnage, limbs torn asunder, she could only lament at the heavens. "Why?! Why give me a fleeting moment of happiness only to cruelly snatch it away from me? What horrible sin did I commit?" A brilliant flash of all enveloping white light robbed her of her sight, disintegrating her mangled body and obliterating all traces of what was once her community. She was the first of her kind. Now, she was the last. Now, her kind was no more. ‐----‐---------------------------------------------------------------- "Ma'am, the test results are back. The radiation therapy worked. You're officially cancer free."
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago thethingthatwill Time travel exists, but it's more horrifying than you can imagine. Time travel exists. Kind of. Hundreds of years from now, future humans are going to think the form of time travel we have is archaic, akin to a manual typewriter or a telegraph. That’s basically as far as the technology has advanced— with the development of the FUTRMSG system, we can send short text-based messages back in time. The current limits can only send it back 24 hours. But through that miracle we can change our past. Avoid disaster, bypass financial ruin. Cheat death. As long as it fits within the short character limit, you can send yourself any kind of warning or advice, the reality around us automatically accommodates the changes you make. But unless it affects our lives, we can’t even feel or perceive reality changing around us. At first, this messaging system was confined within government headquarters, but once the private FUTRMSG company replicated the technology, this miraculous technology was made available to the public. Kind of. When I say “available to the public”, I don’t really mean the public. The system is exorbitantly, prohibitively expensive. It costs many times more than most families’ annual salary to send even one message. But for some that’s just a drop in the bucket, and our society has splintered even farther into the very very rich and the extremely desolate poor. The rich have infinite re-do buttons they can push to create perfect, error-free lives. And the rest of us suffer in the dirt. I’ve obsessively imagined changing my past, avoiding the spectacular misfortunes I’ve had. I once dreamed that I sent a message to my past self, telling my husband not to get on the bus the day a crash ripped his body to shreds. But as the dream started to melt away, I woke up to my filthy, tiny home, with my young son Luke tugging at my sleeve about how hungry he was. Sobbing. My heart breaks for him. Luke is all I have left. The reality is that when my husband died, I spent the 24 hours after the accident frantically begging for money on the streets, among the teeming crowds of unfortunates pleading for help. My city is a sea of poverty and purgatory for the dead, waiting in limbo to be resuscitated by a message from the future. But they almost always stay dead. Tonight there was a knock at my door, and a small, glowing capsule was delivered. A message. From FUTRMSG. What? How could a version of me 24 hours in the future possibly afford this? What could this be, how could it be more dire than my husband’s death? I press my thumb into the white orb as it scans my thumbprint and… Oh m. The color drains from my face as I read the message. I start shaking. How could I have possibly sent this? What… what happens? I read the words again and again and yet they still say: KILL LUKE RIGHT NOW I BEG YOU
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 3 yr. ago Yumifire 14,280,786 14,280,786 That’s the number I was born with. A red scar carved into my left arm that shocked all who saw it. Especially when it changed. Yes I was born with a number counting down every minute. Do you know how long that many minutes are? 27 years, 2 months, 19 days, 13 hours and 46 minutes. No one really understood it. Mother made me cover it. It was the family secret and I was never to show it to anyone. Grandmother I think was the closest to understanding, as soon as she saw it she muttered “death curse” and ordered me to never bother her again. What would you do if you knew exactly when you were going to die? But you never knew how? It’s impossible to have something like this and not have it affect every part of your life. Why try hard in school? I would never have a career. Never be normal. Why have a girlfriend or children if I couldn’t grow old with anyone? As time went on, I guess I found that I was just best alone. Had a few one time dates, but I guess it just didn’t work for me. I pushed everyone away, even mother. Finally the day came. I had decisions to make. Should I drink myself unconscious and hope I sleep through it? But I didn’t want to end up one of those bodies found months after death. That’s what led me to go for a walk, areas that are regularly visited. Who knows, maybe someone could save me? I admit I was scared, despite all the time I had to prepare myself. I didn’t want to die With 10 minutes left I went on my walk. Best to avoid crossing any roads. I plotted my route carefully, but that’s what led me to him. 3 minutes to go was when he blocked my path with demands for money. What money? Wouldn’t you spend it all if you were dying soon? He became agitated and pulled out a gun. At least I know what I’m dying from now. 2 minutes to go, I begged him not to kill me but he didn't listen. He’s trying to scare me but his finger is resting on the trigger. It would just take one knock. 1 minute to go, I thought about how unfair this all was. I want to live so badly. So that’s when I jumped him and fought for the gun. Stupid I know but I had to try. And that’s when the gun fired. The blood soaked my left arm and the man slumped over, taking his last breath. I didn’t mean to kill him. I stared in horror at the corpse in the pool of blood in front of me. It took me far too long to realise how much time had passed. I wiped away the blood to check. The number had changed. 170,012 3 months, 26 days, 2 hours and 12 minutes.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠁⠈⠀⠁⠈⠀⠁⠈⠂ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡰⣴⠡⢴⡲⢶⣲⢾⣷⣶⣤⣖⣠⡤⠄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡤⠤⢒⠚⣉⠥⠤⠔⣢⠒⣔⢢⢒⡖⡴⣢⢵⣒⡯⣝⣛⡺⢧⣄⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠚⡡⠓⠒⡍⢢⠑⠢⡌⠥⢓⠬⡑⢎⠧⣫⣜⡳⣝⢮⢷⡹⣞⡽⣛⠷⡾⣽⣶⣔⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠠⡀⢄⠰⡀⢆⠰⣀⢒⣀⠿⠛⣤⡂⠀⣘⢥⠞⣠⢋⠔⣩⠚⡥⣋⢜⣣⢛⡴⢎⡵⣋⡾⣳⢻⡵⣫⢭⡻⡵⣣⢏⡯⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⢁⡀⢁⠀⠀⢀⠀⠄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢄⠣⡘⢄⢣⡑⢎⡱⡘⢬⠓⣬⡲⠋⠀⡀⢆⡠⠒⢉⡉⡎⠴⡊⠜⡴⣉⠖⡱⢊⠶⣩⢞⡩⢶⡭⣳⡝⣯⢳⣏⢷⣫⣵⢓⣮⡿⣻⣟⠿⣶⡨⢄⡒⣄⠢⡑⢢⠠⡄ ⠀⢀⣀⢒⠰⢊⡔⡩⢌⠦⣉⢦⢱⢩⢆⣻⠎⠉⠀⢠⡠⠛⣬⣶⡠⡜⡸⢢⡍⢳⠰⣌⠮⣕⢫⢳⡱⢎⡵⣋⢶⢣⡻⣜⣯⣞⣳⢳⢾⣹⣾⣿⣗⣮⣃⡹⢷⡭⣖⢬⢳⡙⢦⡛⣜ ⡔⣣⡔⢮⣱⢣⣎⡵⣋⢮⡵⣊⡗⣎⡾⠁⠀⠀⡘⢉⡤⢾⡥⢂⠩⠍⡱⢣⢚⡥⢛⡌⢳⡜⣫⢧⡙⡞⡴⣋⠾⣭⢳⡝⣶⡭⣏⡿⣣⡟⣞⡾⣿⡿⣷⣜⠊⣿⣜⣫⢖⣯⢳⡝⣮ ⠿⠧⠿⠿⡼⢧⠿⣼⣻⣧⢿⣻⣼⡿⠃⠀⢀⡀⠸⡤⠜⡟⡃⠄⢤⢀⣣⣘⡇⣤⢛⡸⢃⡼⢣⣜⢣⠟⣤⢛⢧⡛⣇⠿⣤⠻⣇⢿⡣⢿⣸⢻⣛⣧⣿⣧⣄⡜⢿⣼⡻⣤⣟⡼⢧ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠉⠉⢉⠝⠀⠀⠀⠄⠬⠁⠱⠲⣶⣤⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣯⢷⣯⣜⡳⣎⢧⣋⠶⣩⢖⡹⣬⢳⢮⣷⣭⣶⣿⣧⣮⣝⣾⡭⠹⠉⠸⠋⠀⢿⣽⣷⣾⣻⣿ ⣶⣶⣶⣲⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡯⣖⠳⣭⠲⣍⡞⣱⢎⡷⢯⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣌⡤⠀⠈⢿⡛⠛⢛⠛ ⡏⠈⠍⡉⢍⡉⢋⡙⠛⡻⠁⠀⠀⣀⣠⢴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢼⢣⢟⡴⣋⠶⣍⡳⢮⡝⣿⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣧⡄⠀⠐⢽⣤⣄⣢ ⡇⠘⡄⠐⡂⢌⠢⠌⣱⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡿⣿⣻⢿⣻⣿⣻⣿⣽⣟⣯⡿⣟⣿⡿⣭⣛⣎⠷⣭⣻⣜⡳⣯⣟⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣦⠀⠈⣿⣾⣷ ⣇⠱⢈⠔⡡⠊⡔⣡⠇⠆⠀⠀⣤⣿⣿⢏⡶⣹⢯⣟⣻⢽⠳⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣟⣳⡽⣺⠽⣖⢯⠾⣽⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣷⡀⢙⣧⣈ ⣇⠢⡁⢎⠰⡑⢄⡿⣲⠁⠀⠀⣵⡿⣱⣯⢟⡽⣛⢭⣶⡾⢿⡾⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣛⡷⢫⠜⣭⣛⢷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⣽⣯⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣻⠔ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⣷⠧⠀⠀⢸⣯⣸⣿⣽⡿⡋⠒⠩⢀⡘⣧⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢈⠚⣽⣾⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢯⣟⡿⣿⣿⣧⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⡝ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⠠⠀⠀⡊⠹⣿⣿⣿⠝⢀⣠⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⠁⢾⣍⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣾⣿⣶⣇⡉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠆⢸⠏ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢹⣟⠇⠀⠐⡁⡴⣿⠟⢠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣾⢉⣻⡎⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡤⣼⣼⠀⠀⠀⣉⣾⣛⣴⠿⠙⡓⢫⠿⡿⢿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⡠⠜⡈⣡⡘⣧⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡙⢿⣯⣿⠿⠭⠀⣸⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠒⢥⣻⠀⠀⠀⠏⣫⠔⣡⠔⣋⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣯⢷⣻⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⣀⠌⢕⢰⣖⣡⢳⣜⣗⠜⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⡦⣙⢻⣟⡯⣄⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠂⠀⠀⠈⠁⣔⠽⠾⢋⣭⣵⢩⡻⣽⢶⣛⣾⠾⠋⣿⠻⠏⠀⣠⠞⢊⣰⡋⣌⣻⣏⡇⡻⣷⡀⠙⢿⣿⡟⣾⣿⣟⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢮⠕⠈⠫⣌⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠊⡜⣼⣤⣟⣧⣒⡵⡶⠟⠋⣹⣴⠛⠂⡀⣀⠔⢡⡴⣯⠞⣫⢷⣛⣼⡾⣝⢮⣿⣦⢄⠻⣗⢢⠥⡋⡟⣿⣷⣿⣎⣗⣿⡻⣟⢟⠆⠀⣺⣧⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢸⢞⣾⠟⣫⡵⠲⡩⠐⡰⡔⣋⣎⣠⡴⠋⣀⣼⣿⣶⣯⣽⣞⣯⣿⣽⣻⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣷⣌⢣⣇⡱⡼⠘⣌⡿⢿⣿⣿⣷⣽⡄⠳⢧⡈⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠁⠫⢝⠏⠰⡢⠃⣠⠟⡀⢸⣵⣿⣽⠁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡆⣯⣷⣵⣆⠞⡆⣠⢿⣿⣏⣻⣻⣌⠳⣧⣻⠆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⡀⢾⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⡀⡸⢇⢈⠏⡀⡉⠁⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⢿⣿⣇⣰⣷⣶⣷⢿⡀⡰⢆⡹⡎⣿⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠠⣔⠉⠉⢿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⢈⠕⠩⠀⢠⣰⡠⢜⠥⣾⣽⠟⡳⣧⢧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣷⣿⣯⣿⡿⣷⣽⣷⣿⢮⣽⣾⢹⣟⢿⣸⣇ ⠀⠀⠀⠰⣽⠱⡴⣽⡇⠀⠀⢀⢘⢸⠐⣤⢊⡟⠂⡊⠴⣺⠟⡣⠎⠁⠀⠀⢈⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣥⠐⠐⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣻⣿⣿⣿⢟⣟⣿⡿⣦⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⡇⣷⣿⡇⠀⣀⡬⢡⢿⣲⢉⡾⠍⠀⡔⠉⢁⠜⢁⡠⠀⣠⣤⡩⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠁⠈⣟⣿⡛⠭⠙⠯⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⡷⣿⣟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⢱⡼⠛⣟⠴⢁⣴⢡⣞⡃⢩⡧⠄⠀⢀⢴⣏⡾⣋⣤⣞⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⣾⣿⣿⣄⠀⢘⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⣷⡰⠜⢿⠟⢁⡹⢉⣴⠟⠀⡐⠀⣼⣿⣿⣽⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⢷⣃⠒⡈⣧⠚⣴⠿⣏⡔⢸⠁⣼⡿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⢅⠒⢸⢐⡾⠼⢓⣰⡏⢠⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡘⡈⠦⡑⣏⢸⢿⠀⢁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠽⠥⠒⣂⡴⣂⣛⣬⣛⢞⡳⣝⡶⣣⣾⢟⡏⠿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠁⠎⡰⠑⡌⠽⣨⠀⠨⡿⢿⡽⣟⣿⡽⣣⠧⡰⢀⢆⣹⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣗⡶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢂⠡⠑⣨⠓⣤⢋⠴⣹⢟⡾⣟⣷⢻⣥⢳⠰⢩⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⠀⢀⠃⢔⢫⡔⣫⠒⡽⣞⡿⣯⢯⡷⣎⠷⣑⠢⡜⡼⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⡄⢈⠰⢢⠜⡥⢋⢷⣫⣟⣿⣻⢿⣻⣿⣱⢯⡼⣱⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⢀⠣⢡⠚⡴⢉⠶⣽⣺⢷⣻⣿⣟⣷⣿⣳⣽⣹⡯⠩⣛⡼⣟⣛⡫⣟⡟⡿⡟⣿⣛⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠜⠠⢙⠰⣉⢾⣱⣏⣿⣻⣽⣿⣻⣽⣷⡿⢏⡐⣤⣶⣯⣟⣯⣿⡷⣿⣿⣽⣾⣮⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠀⠀⠐⡈⠐⣈⠃⢎⢮⡓⣾⣱⣯⣟⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣧⠀⠀⠀⢡⠀⠉⡆⢹⡜⣧⢻⣼⣯⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣻⠤⡈⠠⠈⡁⡐⢥⠓⣼⢫⣷⣾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⡇⠐⡀⡐⠌⡲⣍⢸⡽⣼⣳⡿⣽⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠗⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡁⢙⡲⠄⢶⠂⠍⡱⢌⠎⡿⣽⣻⢿⣽⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠅⡗⠁⠂⠀⠕⠈⣃⢾⣮⣷⢻⣽⣻⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠘⢤⠂⠀⠀⠙⠐⢢⢻⣽⣽⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣚⣷⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡁⢠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⣋⠽⣞⢿⣯⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢲⣼⣟⠽⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠕⡨⢓⢮⣳⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⣯⡷⠾⣴⡋⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠁⡁⠚⠤⣛⢣⠾⣹⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣛⢟⡘⢋⠆⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
✨👼⁹⁹⁹⁹⁹🏁
👦😎🖼️1️⃣
👼✨0️⃣4️⃣:0️⃣4️⃣✨🙏
😇1️⃣1️⃣6️⃣1️⃣
✨😇7️⃣7️⃣7️⃣✨
🏗️🧱✅
👼✨4️⃣4️⃣
😇✨⚖️🎯
⬜️🌟444
👼👼👼👼
😇✨3️⃣3️⃣3️⃣
✨👼1️⃣3️⃣1️⃣3️⃣✨
😇✨1️⃣5️⃣1️⃣5️⃣
😇3️⃣3️⃣3️⃣
✨👼1️⃣3️⃣8️⃣
😇✨1️⃣1️⃣1️⃣✨7️⃣
😇6️⃣9️⃣6️⃣
✨😇2️⃣9️⃣2️⃣5️⃣✨
😇✨7️⃣7️⃣7️⃣
😇0️⃣7️⃣0️⃣7️⃣
😇✨#️⃣2️⃣3️⃣2️⃣3️⃣
✨1️⃣1️⃣♡1️⃣1️⃣✨
😇🔟✨
👼✨4️⃣4️⃣🙏🏼2️⃣2️⃣
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