Learncore Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Learncore Emojis & Symbols ๐”๐”ถ ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ซ'๐”ฑ

๐“ซ๐“พ๐“ผ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐›๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐œ๐ก๐จ๐จ๐ฅ ๐“ผ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“น ๐“ธ๐“ฏ ๐“น๐“ฎ๐“ป๐“ถ๐“ฒ๐“ผ๐“ผ๐“ฒ๐“ธ๐“ท ๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ž๐ฌ ๐Ž๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐ข๐œ๐ž, ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐ฉ๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐œ๐ข๐ฉ๐š๐ฅ, ๐’๐ก๐จ๐ฐ & ๐“๐ž๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐‚๐ฅ๐š๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐“’๐“ต๐“ช๐“ผ๐“ผ ๐…๐ข๐ซ๐ž ๐ƒ๐ซ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐‹๐ฎ๐ง๐œ๐ก๐›๐จ๐ฑ ๐‘๐ž๐œ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐“ก๐“ฎ๐“ฌ๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ผ ๐“ผ๐“ฒ๐“ฐ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ญ ๐“พ๐“น ๐“ฏ๐“ธ๐“ป ๐‚๐ฅ๐ฎ๐› ๐ƒ๐ž๐ญ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง -๐“ฒ๐“ท ๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ธ๐“ท
๐”๐”ถ ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ซ'๐”ฑ ๐”ช๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ถ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข. ๐”๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ญ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ก, ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฅ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ฑ, โ„‘ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ก, ๐”Ÿ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ญ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฉ๐”ถ โ„‘ ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ž ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”Ÿ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ.โ€œ
โ„‘ ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”กโ€ฆ. ๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฑ โ„‘'๐”ช ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ซ โ„‘ ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ž๐”ค๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”กโ€ฆ ๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฑ โ„‘ ๐” ๐”ž๐”ซ ๐”ค๐”ฌ ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ž๐”ฃ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”จ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค โ„‘ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ก๐”ซ'๐”ฑ ๐”ค๐”ฌ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ถ ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏโ€ฆ ๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ข ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ถ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ณ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฒ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก โ„‘ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ณ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฒ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐” ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ข
๐๐€๐’๐Ž๐‘๐„๐—๐ˆ๐€ ; ๐’•๐’‰๐’† ๐’๐’—๐’†๐’“๐’˜๐’‰๐’†๐’๐’Ž๐’Š๐’๐’ˆ ๐’…๐’†๐’”๐’Š๐’“๐’† ๐’•๐’ ๐’Œ๐’Š๐’”๐’” .
โŸก pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (แต•โ€”แด—โ€”)
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GREAT CHIP v (Autistic author) Eventually, Plankton stirs, his antennae twitching slightly. His eye opens, and for a moment, he's disoriented. He looks at Chip, then at his hand on his own, and a flicker of memory passes through his eye. He then pulls his hand away. "It's okay, Dad," Chip says softly. "I'm here." Plankton's expression shifts. He sighs, his eye dropping to his son's hand. "Chip," he murmurs. "Wh-what happened?" Chip's heart skips a beat. He wasn't sure how much to say, but he knew he couldn't lie. "You had another... moment," he says carefully. Plankton's face falls, the weight of his own reality crashing down on him like a heavy fog. He nods slowly, his eye searching the room as if trying to piece together the puzzle of his lost time. "I'm sorry," Chip says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know." Plankton's eye meets his, the anger dissipating like the fog. "It's not your fault," he says, his voice weary. "I just... I can't handle much sometimes." Chip nods, feeling a lump in his throat. "Can I hug you?" he asks tentatively, remembering his mother's advice. Plankton's antennae droop, his eye searching Chip's face. After a moment, he nods. "Yes, but just for a second." Chip leans in carefully, wrapping his arms around his dad's shoulders. Plankton tenses, his body a coil of nerves. The hug is brief, but it feels like an eternity to Chip. He pulls back, his eyes searching Plankton's face. "Are you okay?" Plankton's eye blinks slowly. "I will be," he says, his voice weary. "I just need some time to regroup." Chip nods, his mind racing with questions and fears. He didn't know what to say, how to fix this. He just knew he didn't want his dad to feel like this. Karen watches from the doorway, her heart heavy with the weight of the unspoken words between them. She wishes she could take the pain away, but she knows that this moment belonged to her husband and her son. Chip's hand lingers in the space where Plankton's was, feeling the warmth that's no longer there. He swallows hard, trying to push his fears aside. "What can I do?" he asks, his voice trembling. Plankton takes a deep breath, his antennae twitching as he tries to gather his thoughts. "Just maybe try not to touch me... unless I ask." The words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that's opened between them. Chip nods solemnly, his heart heavy. He doesn't fully understand his dad's condition, but he knows it's real and it's painful. And he knows he played a part in it today. "Dad," he starts tentatively, "Can we talk about your... moments?" Plankton's antennae droop. "What do you want to know?" he asks, his voice sounding more tired than defensive. Chip takes a deep breath, trying to formulate his thoughts. "Well, I just want to understand what you go through. What happens during those moments?" Plankton looks away, his face contorting with the effort of explaining. "It's like my brain goes on a vacation without me," he says finally. "Everything's too much, and I just... zone out." Chip nods, trying to picture it. "What's it like? The zoning out, I mean." Plankton sighs, his antennae waving slightly. "It's like... being in a movie theater, but instead of watching the movie, the lights and sounds are all around me. They're too bright, too loud. And when I come back, it's like the movie's still playing in fast forward. I miss parts of it, and I can't rewind." Chip's eyes widen with understanding. "So, it's like a break, but it's not fun for you?" Plankton nods. "It's more like a reboot. My brain needs it, but it's scary not knowing when it'll happen or how long it'll last." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, seeing the vulnerability behind the usual bravado. "But why do you get so mad sometimes?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his face contorting with the effort of explaining. "It's like... everything's too much, and then I can't stop it," he said. "It's like being stuck in a loop of noises and feelings, and I just need to make it stop. And sometimes, that means getting angry." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, trying to understand. "But why does it make you so mad?" Plankton's antennae drooped. "It's not just from anger," he corrected gently. "It's overstimulation. My brain can't process everything at once, so it shuts down to protect itself." Chip nodded, his eyes wide with realization. He'd never thought of it like that before. "So, it's like you're in a crowded room, and everyone's talking at you at the same time?" Plankton's eye lit up slightly. "Exactly," he said, his voice a mix of relief and exhaustion. "And when you touch me afterward, it's like someone turning the volume up even louder." Chip's hand retreated to his lap, understanding dawning on his face. "So, it's like... sensory overload?" Plankton nodded, his eye closing briefly. "Yes, it's like my brain's circuits are fried, and I just need a reset." Chip sat quietly, absorbing his father's words. He'd never thought about it from that perspective before. He knew his dad was different, but he didn't understand the depth of his struggle. "What about the seizures?" Chip asked, his voice tentative. "Do they feel like that too?" Plankton nodded, his antennae waving slightly. "They're like... a storm in my head," he said, his voice strained. "They come without warning, and I can't do anything to stop them. It's like everything's too much, and my brain has to shut down to protect itself." Chip's eyes grew wide with empathy. "That sounds scary. But I've seen you hug mom.." Plankton sighed, his antennae waving slightly. "It's different with your mom. She knows how to touch me without making it too much." Chip's mind raced, trying to grasp the complexities of his dad's neurodivergence. "But how?" he pressed, eager to learn. Plankton took a moment to gather his thoughts. "It's like...everything is too loud or too bright, and I can't just turn it down. So, when I get overwhelmed, my brain goes to 'sleep' for a bit." Chip nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on his father's antennae which had stopped their erratic twitching. "But what if I want to hug you?" he asked, his voice tentative. Plankton's eye opened, a glimmer of something akin to hope flickering within its depths. "Then you ask," he said simply. "You ask, and if I say yes, you hug me gently. Like this." He demonstrated by placing his own hand on Chip's shoulder, his grip firm but not tight. "But only if I'm okay with it, okay?" Chip nodded, feeling a weight lift slightly from his chest. "Okay," he whispered, his voice shaky with emotion.
GREAT CHIP iv (Autistic author) In the bedroom, Karen managed to guide Plankton to the bed, her voice soothing. She knew his senses were heightened right now, his body a battleground. Chip hovered in the doorway, his eyes never leaving his dad. He felt like he didn't recognize this man who had always been his hero. The seizure passed, leaving Plankton drained. Karen helped tucked him in, her eyes filled with sadness. In the quiet that followed, she turned to Chip, his own eyes red and puffy. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she said gently. Chip nodded, his gaze still on Plankton's exhausted face. "Is he okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "He'll be fine," Karen assured, her voice strained. "Just tired. This happens sometimes." Chip nodded, his gaze never leaving Plankton's face. He felt like he was seeing his dad for the first time, like he'd been looking at him through a fog and suddenly, it had lifted. He didn't know what to do with the mix of feelings swirling inside him: confusion, fear, sadness. Karen took Chip's hand, squeezing it gently. "Let's go talk, okay?" she suggested, leading him out of the room. They sat in the kitchen, the silence heavy between them. "I don't get it," Chip said finally, his voice still shaky. "Why did Dad get so mad?" Karen sighed, her grip on his hand tightening. "It's not that he's mad at you, sweetheart. It's his way of dealing with the fear and confusion. Sometimes, his brain gets overwhelmed, and it's like he can't control his reactions." Chip looked at her, his eyes searching for understanding. "But why does he have to break my toys?" he asked, his voice still small. Karen's heart ached for him. "It's not about the toys," she explained softly. "It's about the frustration he feels, the inability to communicate what he's going through." Chip sniffled, trying to wrap his head around it all. "But why does he get so...so...mad?" Karen's eyes were filled with understanding. "It's not just you, Chip. Sometimes, his brain needs a way to deal with everything. It's like his own personal tornado, and when it hits, it's hard for him to keep his emotions from spinning out of control." Chip nodded, still not fully understanding but willing to try. He looked down at their joined hands, his thumb tracing small circles on her palm. "What can I do?" Karen squeezed his hand. "Just be patient," she said. "And don't take it personally. Remember, it's not about you, it's about what he's feeling. And when he's ready, we can talk about it together." Chip nodded, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. He didn't want to upset his dad again, but he needed to know how to help. He didn't want to feel so powerless. "But what if he doesn't want to talk?" he ventured, his voice small. "Then we'll give him space," Karen said, her eyes filled with warmth. "But we'll be here, ready to listen when he does." Chip nodded, wiping away the last of his tears with the back of his hand. "Okay," he murmured, his voice still shaky. "Can I sit with him?" Karen nodded. "Just for a bit, but remember, he might not know you're there right away. Let's go." They tiptoe back into the room, the air still thick with tension. Plankton's eye is closed. Karen knows he's sleeping. Chip sits in the chair beside the bed, watching his dad's chest rise and fall. He reaches out to touch Plankton's hand, but stops. He didn't want to startle him, not after what happened. His mind raced with questions, but he knew now was not the time to ask. Instead, Chip took a deep breath, his hand hovering over Plankton's. He didn't know how to make it right, but he knew he had to try. Karen watched from the doorway, her heart heavy with the weight of her family's pain. She knew this was a moment that could either build a wall or bridge the gap between father and son. Chip's hand hovered, unsure, before finally landing on his dad's. Plankton's antennae twitched, and Chip looked up to see his mother's eyes glistening with proud tears. Karen offered a gentle smile. "You can sit with him," she whispered. "Just don't touch him anywhere else." Chip nodded and pulled the chair closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving his dad's still face. He sat for what felt like hours, his hand resting gently on Plankton's. Every now and then, his dad's antennae would twitch, and he'd hold his breath, afraid that he'd wake him up. But Plankton remained still, lost in a deep slumber. The room was quiet, save for the soft snores escaping his dad's mouth. Chip stared at his hand on Plankton's, his mind racing with everything he'd learned. Autism, seizures, the way his dad's brain worked differently. It was all so new and overwhelming. He felt a pang of guilt for not knowing sooner, for not understanding. But Karen's words echoed in his mind: his dad's reactions weren't personal. It was just how his brain dealt with stress. Chip leaned back in the chair, his eyes heavy with the weight of the day's events. He watched his dad's chest rise and fall, the steady rhythm comforting him. His thoughts swirled with questions and confusion, but he knew one thing for sure: he loved his dad, no matter what. As the minutes ticked by, his fear turned into resolve. He would learn more about his father and try to find a way to support him without setting off the storm of sensory overload.
GREAT CHIP vi (Autistic author) Plankton's antennae twitched, his face etched with lines of fatigue. "It's not that I don't want your affection," he said, his voice hoarse. "I just need it in a way that doesn't make me feel... like I'm in a minefield." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, his mind racing to understand. "How do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity genuine. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae twitching as he searched for the right words. "It's like... sometimes, a simple touch can feel like an electric shock," he began, his voice strained. "Or like I'm being smothered by a heavy blanket of sound." Chip's eyes widened, trying to comprehend. "But you've always hugged mom," he said, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton's antennae drooped slightly. "It's different with your mother," he explained, his voice a little less strained. "She knows me, she knows my limits. And she's... patient." He paused, his eye flickering with something resembling sadness. "But others, it's..." Chip leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "What about others?" he asked gently. Plankton's antennae twitched, his expression tightening. "With others, it's... unpredictable," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and resignation. "Some days I can handle a pat on the back, and others, it's like being stabbed." Chip's eyes widened, his hand instinctively moving to his chest. "It's that intense?" he whispered. Plankton nodded, his antennae waving slightly. "Some days are worse than others," he said, his voice soft. "But when it's bad, it feels like I'm being bombarded from all sides. It's...overwhelming." Chip's brow furrowed as he tried to imagine the intensity his dad described. "What can I do to make sure I don't hurt you?" he asked, his voice earnest. Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, his eye searching Chip's face. "Just be mindful," he said, his voice softer than before. "Watch for my cues. If I look overwhelmed, if I flinch, just...give me space." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his dad's. "What are the cues?" he asked, eager to learn. "How do I know when you're in that 'minefield'?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye searching for the right words. "Well, my antennae might twitch a lot, I might get really quiet, or I might get louder. It's different every time." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "So, if you're in that 'minefield', I should just...?" "You can be there," Plankton finished for him, his antennae still. "But not too close. Make sure to get your mother." Chip nodded, his mind racing with the new information. He'd always known his dad was special, but this was a new kind of understanding. "What about sounds?" he asked, his voice tentative. "What noises set you off?" Plankton sighed, his antennae twitching slightly. "It's not just about the loudness," he began, his eye searching the ceiling as if for an answer. "It's more about the pitch, the suddenness. Like when you scratch or drop something.." Chip's eyes grew wide with realization. "Oh," he murmured. "So, it's like a surprise attack?" Plankton's antennae nodded. "Exactly," he said, his voice sounding a bit less strained. "But it's not just about the sounds themselves. It's about how my brain interprets them." Chip leaned in, his eyes filled with curiosity. "But how did you get it, Dad?" he asked, his voice soft. "Was it from something you caught or something that happened?" Plankton's antennae waved in frustration. "It's not like that," he said, his voice sharp. "I was born with it. It's just the way my brain is developed, and it's not like getting a cold!" His eye was intense, his voice rising. Chip's eyes widened, taking in his father's outburst. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae dropping slightly. "I know you didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice softer. "But it's important to understand that it's not something I can just get over. It's a part of how I am." Chip nodded, feeling the weight of his father's words. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "I..." Plankton's antennae waved gently, his eye softening. "It's okay," he said. "I know you didn't mean to upset me. It's just...it's a lot to explain." Chip nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. He knew his dad wasn't mad at him, but it was still hard to see him so upset. Plankton's eye searched his son's face, the anger slowly fading into something softer. "Look," he said, his voice low. "I know it's a lot to take in, but I need you to know that I l-love you." Chip felt a tear slide down his cheek. "I love you too, Dad," he managed to say, his voice choking with emotion. "But I don't want you to be in pain." Plankton's antennae waved gently, his expression a mix of love and sorrow. "I know," he said. "And that's why we're talking about this. So you can understand, so you know." Chip sniffled, trying to hold back his tears. "But why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, his voice small. Plankton's antennae drooped, his face etched with regret. "I was afraid," he admitted. "Afraid that you'd think I was broken. That you'd... not love me the same. And I don't usually like to talk about it to much." Chip felt his heart ache. "Dad," he said, his voice steady despite his emotions. "I could never think of you as broken. You're the smartest person I know. And you're my hero." Plankton's antennae perked up slightly at the words, his eye filling with warmth. "But you don't see me like that when I'm... in that state," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You stared at me like I'm to be feared." Chip's eyes widened, a look of horror crossing his face. "Dad, no!" he exclaimed. "I didn't mean to!" Plankton's antennae drooped, his expression one of defeat. "It's okay, Chip," he said, his voice resigned. "It's hard to explain. It's not like I can control it." Chip nodded, his mind racing with questions and fears. He knew his dad wasn't broken, but he wished there was something he could do to ease his pain. "What happens when you're in that state?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye closed as he tried to explain. "It's like my brain's in a whirlwind, and I can't get out," he said. "Everything's spinning, and I can't focus on anything." "But why do you get so upset when it happens?" he pressed. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae stilling. "Because I don't know what's happening," he said, his voice strained. "And when it's over, I don't remember." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, his heart breaking for him. "But why don't you remember?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye opening slightly. "It's like waking up from a deep sleep," he murmured. "I know I've been somewhere, but the details are always fuzzy." Chip nodded, trying to imagine his dad's world. "What do you see?" he asked, his voice filled with awe. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye focusing on a spot on the wall. "It's like...colors and shapes," he said, his voice distant. "They're all swirling around, so fast that I can't make sense of them." Chip's eyes grew wide with wonder. "Is it like a kaleidoscope?" he asked, his voice filled with awe. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his eye opening a bit wider. "In a way," he murmured. "But it's more... dis..." The door to the room creaked open, interrupting his thought. Karen stepped in, her eyes darting between Chip and Plankton. The tension in the air was palpable, but she offered a small smile of encouragement. "Chip, Plankton; how long have you been up?" Chip glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "A while, Mom," he said, his voice thick with the weight of their conversation.
PLUSH ONE iii (By NeuroFabulous) Karen watches him, his hands stroking the fabric. She reaches out tentatively, touching his arm with the back of her hand. He flinches, his hand freezing mid-stroke. Her eyes fill with regret, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she lets her hand hover for a moment before slowly drawing it back. Plankton's gaze flips to hers, his pupil wide with surprise. He stares at her, then back at her hand. "It's okay," she murmurs, her fingers hovering above his arm once more. This time, he doesn't flinch. Encouraged, she lightly traces his skin, mimicking the movement he'd made with her palm. He watches her, his expression neutral. Then, ever so slightly, his hand relaxes its grip on the blanket. It's as if he's giving his consent for the contact. Karen's eyes well up with tears. This is the first real interaction they've had since the accident. She strokes his arm, her touch light and cautious. He seems to enjoy it, his body slowly unwinding from the tension. It's a dance, learning his new boundaries, his new language of touch. "What do you like?" Karen asks, her voice soft. "What feels good?" Her eyes are on his, watching for any flicker of response. Plankton looks at her, his gaze unreadable, and then his hand moves to cover hers on his arm. It's a gesture so simple, yet so profound, that it takes her breath away. His skin is warm, his touch gentle. He seems to be communicating without words, and she's desperate to understand. "Is this okay?" she whispers, her hand stilling. He nods, his eye never leaving hers. Plankton's movements are precise, deliberate. He's not the same man she knew, but he's still her Plankton. She can see the love in his gaze, the trust in his touch. It's a new way of interacting, but she's willing to learn. As they sit together, Karen notices how Plankton's eye darts around the room, focusing on specific items before moving on. It's as if he's cataloging everything, trying to make sense of his surroundings. She decides to try to engage him with his environment, hoping to spark some familiarity. "Look, Plankton," she says, pointing to a framed photo on the wall. "It's us. Do you remember?" He looks over, his gaze lingering on the picture for a moment. "Karen," he murmurs, his voice soft. "Us." "Yes, that's us. Do you recall?" His eye darts back to the photo. "Yes, Karen; July 31, 1999." The exactitude of the date stuns her. It's a memory she'd thought lost to time. "How do you remember that?" she asks, a smile playing on her screen despite the fear that lingers in her. His gaze doesn't leave the photo. "Special day," he murmurs. "Day married. Karen and Plankton." Karen's eyes widen. His memory for dates and specifics seems to have sharpened, a trait not uncommon in those with autism. It's a stark contrast to the man who often forgot the day of the week unless it was a Krabby Patty special by the Chum Bucket. "You remembered our wedding day," she says, her voice filled with amazement. "That's incredible, Plankton." He nods, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Happy," he murmurs. "Karen happy." Karen's eyes well up with tears as she nods. "Yes, we were happy," she whispers. "We still are." Plankton's hand moves to hers, his grip firm but gentle. "Karen," he says, his voice a declaration of his presence, his acknowledgment of her. It's a moment of profound connection that transcends words. Her screen swells with hope. They're finding a way to communicate. "Do you want to watch TV?" Karen asks, keeping her voice calm and steady. Plankton nods, his eye still on the photo. She grabs the remote and turns it on. The flickering light from the screen illuminates his face, the blue hue of the plasma waves washing over them. But the program is to loud, and Plankton's body tenses up. "Too loud?" she asks, reading his expression. He nods, his eye never leaving the screen. She quickly turns it off. In the darkness, Karen's mind races. They'd need to make adjustments, little by little. Plankton's gaze remains fixed on the spot where the TV was, his eye searching for the pattern of light that was there moments ago. Karen takes a deep breath, her hand still resting in his. "It's okay," she whispers. "We'll find something else." She tries humming, starting with a soft lullaby that fills the room, and she watches his expression, looking for any sign of comfort. His eye flickers closed, and his body relaxes, the tension in his fingers loosening their grip on hers. Encouraged, Karen continues, her voice low and soothing. Plankton's breathing evens out, and she can feel his hand start to relax in hers as he's lulled to a calmness by the predictability of the song's melody. It's a small victory, but one that fills her with hope. She decides to try speaking again, her words carefully chosen. "Plankton, sweetheart, can you tell me what you're thinking about?" He doesn't respond, his eye still closed. "Plankton," Karen whispers. Plankton's breathing remains steady, his hand relaxing further in hers as she notices him sleepily squeezing her fingers. It's a gentle reminder that he's still there, that he's listening. "Karen," he says, his eye sleepily fluttering, "I love you Karen, I love yo..." Plankton's voice trails off as he drifts off to sleep, his head lolling onto her shoulder with a snore. Karen's eyes brim with unshed tears, but she's smiling. The love in his voice was unmistakable. She sits there, holding him. The room is quiet except for his snores and the occasional squeak of the couch. Karen's mind is racing with thoughts, planning for their future. How will they live with his new autism? What will change? What will stay the same? As Plankton sleeps, she notices the way his hand still clutches hers, a silent plea for comfort. She understands that their world has changed, but she's determined to adapt. The quietude of the room is pierced only by the steady rhythm of his snores and the distant hum of the city outside. The TV remains off, the colors of the room muted. Karen knows that bright lights and loud noises can overwhelm him now. She'll have to learn to live with the quiet, to appreciate the small moments of joy that can be found in the simplicity of their new life. Her eyes scan the room, taking in the clutter of their shared life. The unfinished inventions, the half-eaten Krabby Patties, the dusty knick-knacks that once held so much meaning. Everything seems different now, filtered through the lens of Plankton's altered reality. Karen makes a mental note to create a sensory-friendly space for him, a sanctuary where he can retreat from the chaos of the world. But right now it's getting late, and they're both tired. She needs to carry him to their room. With a gentle sigh, she shifts his weight and stands up, his arm draped over her. Plankton's body is limp, his snores a comforting sound in the quiet room. She walks carefully, avoiding any noise that might startle him awake. In their bedroom, Karen lowers Plankton onto his bed and covers him with the blanket. He's still snoring, and she watches him for a moment, committing the sight of him to memory. This is their new normal, and she's scared but ready to face it. Karen reaches over to kiss him on the forehead, her hand lingering there, feeling the warmth of his skin. "I'll figure it out," she whispers, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "We'll make it work."
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Saturday 20 October 2012 Teacher's Day SMS Teacher's Day SMS โ†’ ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑัั” ั‚ะฝั” ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฮนฮท ั‚ะฝฮนั• ฯ‰ฯƒัโ„“โˆ‚. ฯ‰ะฝั”ัั”ฮฝั”ั ฮน ะผฮฑัƒ gฯƒ ฮนฮท ะผัƒ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั”, ฮน ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ัั”ะผั”ะผะฒั”ั ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮน ะฝฮฑโˆ‚ ฮฑฮท ั”ฯ‡ยขั”โ„“โ„“ั”ฮทั‚ gฯ…ฮนโˆ‚ั” ฮนฮท ั‚ะฝั” ฦ’ฯƒัะผ ฯƒฦ’ ฮฑ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั, ัƒฯƒฯ…. โ†’ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ฮนั‚ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทg ฮทฯƒ ฯƒฮทั” ยขฮฑฮท ยขฯƒะผฯั”ั‚ั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ัƒฯƒฯ…. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ. โ†’ โˆ‚ั”ฮฑั ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั, ั‚ะฝฮฑฮทะบั• ฦ’ฯƒั ะผฮฑะบฮนฮทg ฯ…ั• ฯ‰ะฝฮฑั‚ ฯ‰ั” ฮฑัั” ั‚ฯƒโˆ‚ฮฑัƒ. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ โ†’ ัƒฯƒฯ… gฯ…ฮนโˆ‚ั”โˆ‚ ะผั” ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ฮน ฯ‰ฮฑั• โ„“ฯƒั•ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั•ฯ…ฯฯƒัั‚ั”โˆ‚ ะผั” ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ฮน ฯ‰ฮฑั• ฯ‰ั”ฮฑะบ ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ั”ฮทโ„“ฮนgะฝั‚ั”ฮทั”โˆ‚ ะผั” ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝัฯƒฯ…gะฝ.. โ†’ ั‚ฯƒโˆ‚ฮฑัƒ . ฯ‰ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮน ฮฑะผ ฮนั• ื ฯ…ั•ั‚ ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฯƒฦ’ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั•ฮนั ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ โ†’ ฮน ะผฮฑัƒ ฮทฯƒั‚ ั•ฮฑัƒ ฮนั‚ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั•. ะฒฯ…ั‚, ฮน ะผั”ฮฑฮท ฮนั‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฮน ั•ฮฑัƒ ฮนั‚. ั‚ะฝฮฑฮทะบ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฦ’ฯƒั ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝั” ั‚ะฝฮนฮทgั• ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ะฝฮฑฮฝั” โˆ‚ฯƒฮทั” ฦ’ฯƒั ะผั”. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ! โ†’ ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑัั” ฮฑ ฯ‰ฯƒฮทโˆ‚ั”ัฦ’ฯ…โ„“ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ฯัฯƒฮฝั”โˆ‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ โ„“ั”ฮฑัฮทฮนฮทg ยขฮฑฮท ะฒั” ื ฯƒัƒฯƒฯ…ั• ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯโ„“ั”ฮฑั•ฮฑฮทั‚ ั”ฯ‡ฯั”ัฮนั”ฮทยขั” ฯ‰ฮนั•ะฝฮนฮทg ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑ ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัโ€™ั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ โ†’ ฮน ฦ’ฯƒฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ gฯ…ฮนโˆ‚ฮฑฮทยขั”, ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ั•ะฝฮนฯ, โˆ‚ฮนั•ยขฮนฯโ„“ฮนฮทั” ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”, ั”ฮฝั”ััƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg, ฮนฮท ฯƒฮทั” ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท. ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท ฮนั• ัƒฯƒฯ… (ฮทฮฑะผั” ฯƒฦ’ ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั) โ€œะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ!โ€ โ†’ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทg ั•ะฝฯƒฯ…โ„“โˆ‚ ะฒั” ฦ’ฯ…โ„“โ„“ ฯƒฦ’ ฮนโˆ‚ั”ฮฑั• ฮนฮทั•ั‚ั”ฮฑโˆ‚ ฯƒฦ’ ั•ั‚ฯ…ฦ’ฦ’ั”โˆ‚ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฦ’ฮฑยขั‚ั•. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” ฮฑฯ‰ฮฑัโˆ‚ ฦ’ฯƒั ั‚ะฝั” ะผฯƒั•ั‚ ฯ‰ฯƒฮทโˆ‚ั”ัฦ’ฯ…โ„“ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ะฝฮฑั• ะฒั”ั”ฮท โˆ‚ั”ยขโ„“ฮฑัั”โˆ‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮนั‚ gฯƒั”ั• ั‚ฯƒ ัƒฯƒฯ…. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ!! โ†’ ฯ‰ั” ฮฑัั” ฦ’ฯƒัั‚ฯ…ฮทฮฑั‚ั” ฯ‰ั” ะฝฮฑโˆ‚ ฮฑ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฮฑั• ฯ‰ฯƒฮทโˆ‚ั”ัฦ’ฯ…โ„“ โ„“ฯƒฮฝฮนฮทg ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ยขฮฑัฮนฮทg ฮฑั• ัƒฯƒฯ….... ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั\'ั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ...!! โ†’ ั‚ะฝฮฑฮทะบั• ฦ’ฯƒั ะฒั”ฮนฮทg ฮฑ ั‚ัฯ…ั” ะผั”ฮทั‚ฯƒั ฯƒฦ’ ฯƒฯ…ั ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚ั•. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ โ†’ ฯ‰ั” ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฒั” ั‚ะฝฮฑฮทะบฦ’ฯ…โ„“ ั‚ฯƒ ัƒฯƒฯ… ฦ’ฯƒั ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝั” ะฝฮฑัโˆ‚ ฯ‰ฯƒัะบ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั”ฦ’ฦ’ฯƒัั‚ั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฯฯ…ั‚ ฮนฮท, ฦ’ฯƒั ั”โˆ‚ฯ…ยขฮฑั‚ฮนฮทg ฯ…ั•. โ€œะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ!โ€ โ†’ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฮนั• ฮฑ ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฝั”โ„“ฯั• ั”ฮฝั”ััƒะฒฯƒโˆ‚ัƒ ั‚ฯƒ gั”ั‚ ั‚ะฝั” ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰โ„“ั”โˆ‚gั” ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ั•ั‚ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ั• ะฒั”ั•ฮนโˆ‚ั” ั‚ะฝั” ั•ั‚ฯ…โˆ‚ั”ฮทั‚ั• ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฯัฯƒะฒโ„“ั”ะผั• ั‚ะฝฮฑฮทะบั• ฦ’ฯƒั ะฒั”ฮนฮทg ั‚ะฝั”ัั” ะผฮฑโˆ‚ฮฑะผ/ั•ฮนัโ€ฆ. โ€œะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒโ€ โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” โˆ‚ัั”ฮฑะผ ะฒั”gฮนฮทั• ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฮฑ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ะฒั”โ„“ฮนั”ฮฝั”ั• ฮนฮท ัƒฯƒฯ…, ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ั‚ฯ…gั• ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯฯ…ั•ะฝั”ั• ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ โ„“ั”ฮฑโˆ‚ั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ะฝั” ฮทั”ฯ‡ั‚ ฯโ„“ฮฑั‚ั”ฮฑฯ…, ั•ฯƒะผั”ั‚ฮนะผั”ั• ฯฯƒะบฮนฮทg ัƒฯƒฯ… ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฮฑ ั•ะฝฮฑัฯ ั•ั‚ฮนยขะบ ยขฮฑโ„“โ„“ั”โˆ‚ โ€œั‚ัฯ…ั‚ะฝ. โ†’ ะผฮฑัƒ ฮทฯƒั‚ ั•ฮฑัƒ ฮนั‚ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฒฯ…ั‚, ฮน ะผั”ฮฑฮท ฮนั‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฮน ั•ฮฑัƒ ฮนั‚. ั‚ะฝฮฑฮทะบ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฦ’ฯƒั ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝั” ั‚ะฝฮนฮทgั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฮฑฮฝั” โˆ‚ฯƒฮทั” ฦ’ฯƒั ะผั”. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ! โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” ั‚ัฯ…ั” ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั โˆ‚ั”ฦ’ั”ฮทโˆ‚ั• ะฝฮนั• ฯฯ…ฯฮนโ„“ั• ฮฑgฮฑฮนฮทั•ั‚ ะฝฮนั• ฯƒฯ‰ฮท ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮทฮฑโ„“ ฮนฮทฦ’โ„“ฯ…ั”ฮทยขั”. ะฝั” ฮนฮทั•ฯฮนัั”ั• ั•ั”โ„“ฦ’-โˆ‚ฮนั•ั‚ัฯ…ั•ั‚. ะฝั” gฯ…ฮนโˆ‚ั”ั• ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ั”ัƒั”ั• ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ะฝฮนะผั•ั”โ„“ฦ’ ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ะฝั” ั•ฯฮนัฮนั‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ qฯ…ฮนยขะบั”ฮทั• ะฝฮนะผ. ะฝั” ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฮทฯƒ โˆ‚ฮนั•ยขฮนฯโ„“ั”. โ†’ ฮฑ gฯƒฯƒโˆ‚ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฮนั• ฮฑ ะผฮฑั•ั‚ั”ั ฯƒฦ’ ั•ฮนะผฯโ„“ฮนฦ’ฮนยขฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮท ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮฑฮท ั”ฮทั”ะผัƒ ฯƒฦ’ ั•ฮนะผฯโ„“ฮนั•ะผ. โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” ฯ‰ฮฑัƒ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝโ€ฆ ั‚ะฝั” ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰โ„“ั”โˆ‚gั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ั•ะฝฮฑัั”โ€ฆ ั‚ะฝั” ยขฮฑัั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ฮฑะบั”โ€ฆ ั‚ะฝั” โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ั•ะฝฯƒฯ‰ั”ั.. ะผฮฑะบั”ั• ัƒฯƒฯ…โ€ฆ ั‚ะฝั” ฯ‰ฯƒัโ„“โˆ‚โ€™ั• ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัโ€ฆ โ€œะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัโ€™ั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ!โ€ โ†’ ัั”ะผั”ะผะฒั”ั ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ฯ‰ฯƒัโˆ‚ั• ะฝั” ั•ฮฑัƒ ฯ‰ฯƒัโˆ‚ั• ั‚ฯƒ ะผฮฑะบั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ั•ฯƒยขฮนฮฑโ„“ ฯ‰ฯƒัโˆ‚ั• ั‚ฯƒ ะผฮฑะบั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ั•ฯั”ยขฮนฮฑโ„“ ะฝั” ฮนั• ฯƒฯ…ั ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ะฝั” ฮนั• ฯƒฯ…ั gฯ…ฮนโˆ‚ั” โ„“ั”ั‚ั• ะผฮฑะบั” ะฝฮนะผ ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ ฯัฮนโˆ‚ั” โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั” ฯƒฮทั” ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ั•ฯ…ggั”ั•ั‚ั• ัฮฑั‚ะฝั”ั ั‚ะฝฮฑฮท โˆ‚ฯƒgะผฮฑั‚ฮนzั”ั•, ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮนฮทั•ฯฮนัั”ั• ะฝฮนั• โ„“ฮนั•ั‚ั”ฮทั”ั ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ั‚ะฝั” ฯ‰ฮนั•ะฝ ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝ ะฝฮนะผั•ั”โ„“ฦ’. โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” โˆ‚ัั”ฮฑะผ ะฒั”gฮนฮทั• ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฮฑ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ะฒั”โ„“ฮนั”ฮฝั”ั• ฮนฮท ัƒฯƒฯ…, ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ั‚ฯ…gั• ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯฯ…ั•ะฝั”ั• ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ โ„“ั”ฮฑโˆ‚ั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ะฝั” ฮทั”ฯ‡ั‚ ฯโ„“ฮฑั‚ั”ฮฑฯ…, ั•ฯƒะผั”ั‚ฮนะผั”ั• ฯฯƒะบฮนฮทg ัƒฯƒฯ… ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฮฑ ั•ะฝฮฑัฯ ั•ั‚ฮนยขะบ ยขฮฑโ„“โ„“ั”โˆ‚ โ€œั‚ัฯ…ั‚ะฝ.โ€ โ†’ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทg ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั” ฯัฯƒฦ’ั”ั•ั•ฮนฯƒฮท ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั• ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝั” ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั ฯัฯƒฦ’ั”ั•ั•ฮนฯƒฮทั•. โ†’ ฯ‰ั” ั”ฯ‡ฯั”ยขั‚ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• ั‚ฯƒ ะฝฮฑฮทโˆ‚โ„“ั” ั‚ั”ั”ฮทฮฑgั” ฯัั”gฮทฮฑฮทยขัƒ, ั•ฯ…ะฒั•ั‚ฮฑฮทยขั” ฮฑะฒฯ…ั•ั”, ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั‚ะฝั” ฦ’ฮฑฮนโ„“ฮนฮทgั• ฯƒฦ’ ั‚ะฝั” ฦ’ฮฑะผฮนโ„“ัƒ. ั‚ะฝั”ฮท ฯ‰ั” ั”ฯ‡ฯั”ยขั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ั‚ฯƒ ั”โˆ‚ฯ…ยขฮฑั‚ั” ฯƒฯ…ั ยขะฝฮนโ„“โˆ‚ัั”ฮท โ†’ ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑัั” ฮทฯƒั‚ ฯƒฮทโ„“ัƒ ฯƒฯ…ั ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ั ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑัั” ฯƒฯ…ั ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚, ฯะฝฮนโ„“ฯƒั•ฯƒฯะฝั”ั ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ gฯ…ฮนโˆ‚ั” ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ะผฯƒโ„“โˆ‚ั”โˆ‚ ฮนฮทั‚ฯƒ ฯƒฮทั” ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท ฯ‰ั” ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฒั” gัฮฑั‚ั”ฦ’ฯ…โ„“ ฦ’ฯƒั ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ั•ฯ…ฯฯฯƒัั‚ ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ! โ†’ ฯ‰ั” ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฒั” ั‚ะฝฮฑฮทะบฦ’ฯ…โ„“ ั‚ฯƒ ัƒฯƒฯ… ฦ’ฯƒั ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝั” ะฝฮฑัโˆ‚ ฯ‰ฯƒัะบ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั”ฦ’ฦ’ฯƒัั‚ั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฯฯ…ั‚ ฮนฮท, ฦ’ฯƒั ั”โˆ‚ฯ…ยขฮฑั‚ฮนฮทg ฯ…ั•. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ! โ†’ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทg ฮนั• โ„“ั”ฮฑฮฝฮนฮทg ฮฑ ฮฝั”ั•ั‚ฮนgั” ฯƒฦ’ ฯƒฮทั” ั•ั”โ„“ฦ’ ฮนฮท ั‚ะฝั” โˆ‚ั”ฮฝั”โ„“ฯƒฯะผั”ฮทั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ฮฑฮทฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั. ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั•ฯ…ัั”โ„“ัƒ ั‚ะฝั” ั•ั‚ฯ…โˆ‚ั”ฮทั‚ ฮนั• ฮฑ ะฒฮฑฮทะบ ฯ‰ะฝั”ัั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ยขฮฑฮท โˆ‚ั”ฯฯƒั•ฮนั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ะผฯƒั•ั‚ ฯัั”ยขฮนฯƒฯ…ั• ั‚ัั”ฮฑั•ฯ…ัั”ั•. โ†’ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ฮนั‚ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทg ฮทฯƒ ฯƒฮทั” ยขฮฑฮท ยขฯƒะผฯั”ั‚ั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ัƒฯƒฯ…. ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั• โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ! โ†’ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทg ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั” ฯƒฮทโ„“ัƒ ะผฮฑื ฯƒั ฯƒยขยขฯ…ฯฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮท ฯƒฦ’ ะผฮฑฮท ฦ’ฯƒั ฯ‰ะฝฮนยขะฝ ฯ‰ั” ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฮทฯƒั‚ ัƒั”ั‚ โˆ‚ั”ฮฝั”โ„“ฯƒฯั”โˆ‚ ั‚ฯƒฯƒโ„“ั• ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ะผฮฑะบั” ฮฑฮท ฮฑฮฝั”ัฮฑgั” ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท ยขฮฑฯฮฑะฒโ„“ั” ฯƒฦ’ ยขฯƒะผฯั”ั‚ั”ฮทยขั” ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯั”ัฦ’ฯƒัะผฮฑฮทยขั”. ฮนฮท ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทg ฯ‰ั” ัั”โ„“ัƒ ฯƒฮท ั‚ะฝั” โ€œฮทฮฑั‚ฯ…ัฮฑโ„“ั•,โ€ ั‚ะฝั” ฯƒฮทั”ั• ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ั•ฯƒะผั”ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝ. โ†’ ฯƒฮทั” โ„“ฯƒฯƒะบั• ะฒฮฑยขะบ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฮฑฯฯัั”ยขฮนฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮท ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ะฝั” ะฒัฮนโ„“โ„“ฮนฮฑฮทั‚ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัั•, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ gัฮฑั‚ฮนั‚ฯ…โˆ‚ั” ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ะฝฯƒั•ั” ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ั‚ฯƒฯ…ยขะฝั”โˆ‚ ฯƒฯ…ั ะฝฯ…ะผฮฑฮท ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ฮนฮทgั•. ั‚ะฝั” ยขฯ…ััฮนยขฯ…โ„“ฯ…ะผ ฮนั• ั•ฯƒ ะผฯ…ยขะฝ ฮทั”ยขั”ั•ั•ฮฑััƒ ัฮฑฯ‰ ะผฮฑั‚ั”ัฮนฮฑโ„“, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ฮฑัะผั‚ะฝ ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั” ฮฝฮนั‚ฮฑโ„“ ั”โ„“ั”ะผั”ฮทั‚ ฦ’ฯƒั ั‚ะฝั” gัฯƒฯ‰ฮนฮทg ฯโ„“ฮฑฮทั‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฦ’ฯƒั ั‚ะฝั” ั•ฯƒฯ…โ„“ ฯƒฦ’ ั‚ะฝั” ยขะฝฮนโ„“โˆ‚. โ†’ ฮนฦ’ ฮฑ โˆ‚ฯƒยขั‚ฯƒั, โ„“ฮฑฯ‰ัƒั”ั, ฯƒั โˆ‚ั”ฮทั‚ฮนั•ั‚ ะฝฮฑโˆ‚ 40 ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ฮนฮท ะฝฮนั• ฯƒฦ’ฦ’ฮนยขั” ฮฑั‚ ฯƒฮทั” ั‚ฮนะผั”, ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ฯƒฦ’ ฯ‰ะฝฯƒะผ ะฝฮฑโˆ‚ โˆ‚ฮนฦ’ฦ’ั”ัั”ฮทั‚ ฮทั”ั”โˆ‚ั•, ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั•ฯƒะผั” ฯƒฦ’ ฯ‰ะฝฯƒะผ โˆ‚ฮนโˆ‚ฮทโ€™ั‚ ฯ‰ฮฑฮทั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ะฒั” ั‚ะฝั”ัั” ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯ‰ั”ัั” ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ฮนฮทg ั‚ัฯƒฯ…ะฒโ„“ั”, ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั‚ะฝั” โˆ‚ฯƒยขั‚ฯƒั, โ„“ฮฑฯ‰ัƒั”ั, ฯƒั โˆ‚ั”ฮทั‚ฮนั•ั‚, ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฮฑั•ั•ฮนั•ั‚ฮฑฮทยขั”, ะฝฮฑโˆ‚ ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ัั”ฮฑั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฯัฯƒฦ’ั”ั•ั•ฮนฯƒฮทฮฑโ„“ ั”ฯ‡ยขั”โ„“โ„“ั”ฮทยขั” ฦ’ฯƒั ฮทฮนฮทั” ะผฯƒฮทั‚ะฝั•, ั‚ะฝั”ฮท ะฝั” ะผฮนgะฝั‚ ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ั•ฯƒะผั” ยขฯƒฮทยขั”ฯั‚ฮนฯƒฮท ฯƒฦ’ ั‚ะฝั” ยขโ„“ฮฑั•ั•ัฯƒฯƒะผ ั‚ั”ฮฑยขะฝั”ัโ€™ั• ื ฯƒะฒ. Posted by Kiran Bele at 21:56

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My best friend has the most beautiful hair. People always comment on it. This year, when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, she was the first person I told. A week later she came into school with all of it gone. Mar 19, 2011 at 5:00pm by Rebecca, California
__________________________________________________________________________ Periodic Table of Elements __________________________________________________________________________ 1A 2A 3A 4A 5A 6A 7A 8A ----- ----- 1 | H | |He | |---+---- --------------------+---| 2 |Li |Be | | B | C | N | O | F |Ne | |---+---| |---+---+---+---+---+---| 3 |Na |Mg |3B 4B 5B 6B 7B | 8B |1B 2B |Al |Si | P | S |Cl |Ar | |---+---+---------------------------------------+---+---+---+---+---+---| 4 | K |Ca |Sc |Ti | V |Cr |Mn |Fe |Co |Ni |Cu |Zn |Ga |Ge |As |Se |Br |Kr | |---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---| 5 |Rb |Sr | Y |Zr |Nb |Mo |Tc |Ru |Rh |Pd |Ag |Cd |In |Sn |Sb |Te | I |Xe | |---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---| 6 |Cs |Ba |LAN|Hf |Ta | W |Re |Os |Ir |Pt |Au |Hg |Tl |Pb |Bi |Po |At |Rn | |---+---+---+------------------------------------------------------------ 7 |Fr |Ra |ACT| ===--------------------------------------------------------------------=== Lanthanide |La |Ce |Pr |Nd |Pm |Sm |Eu |Gd |Tb |Dy |Ho |Er |Tm |Yb |Lu | |---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---| Actinide |Ac |Th |Pa | U |Np |Pu |Am |Cm |Bk |Cf |Es |Fm |Md |No |Lw | ------------------------------------------------------------- __________________________________________________________________________
New year affirmations โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐ผ ๐‘Ž๐‘š ๐‘š๐‘ฆ ๐‘๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ก ๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘ ๐‘–๐‘œ๐‘› ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘‡โ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘ค ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘ก ๐‘ก๐‘œ ๐‘๐‘’ ๐‘”๐‘Ÿ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘ก ๐‘“๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ ๐‘š๐‘’ ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘  ๐ผ ๐‘™๐‘œ๐‘ฃ๐‘’ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ๐‘–โ€™๐‘š ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘š๐‘๐‘™๐‘’๐‘ก๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘š๐‘ฆ ๐‘”๐‘œ๐‘Ž๐‘™s โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘ค ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ ๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘  ๐‘ค๐‘–๐‘กโ„Ž ๐‘—๐‘œ๐‘ฆ๏ผŒ ๐‘š๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘ฆ ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ โ„Ž๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘กโ„Ž โ™ฅ๏ธŽ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘š๐‘ฆ ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘ฆ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘ค๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ๐‘˜๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘œ๐‘› ๐‘š๐‘ฆ ๐‘“๐‘Ž๐‘ฃ๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘Ÿ ๐‘›๐‘œ๐‘ค โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘‡โ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘ก ๐‘š๐‘’ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ๐ผโ€™๐‘ฃ๐‘’ ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ ๐‘๐‘’๐‘’๐‘› โ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘๐‘–๐‘’๐‘Ÿ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐ผ ๐‘Ž๐‘š ๐‘™๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘™๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘ข๐‘ ๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘ฆ๐‘‘๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘›๐‘’๐‘ค ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘š๐‘–๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘ข๐‘™๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘  โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘“๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘š ๐‘›๐‘œ๐‘ค ๐‘œ๐‘› ๐‘’๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘ฆ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘ ๐‘–๐‘๐‘™๐‘’ ๐‘“๐‘œ๐‘Ÿ ๐‘š๐‘’ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘Ž๐‘š๐‘Ž๐‘ง๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘๐‘’๐‘œ๐‘๐‘™๐‘’ ๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘’ ๐‘š๐‘’๐‘’๐‘ก๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘š๐‘’ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘“๐‘ข๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘œ๐‘“ ๐‘๐‘™๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ ๐‘–๐‘›๐‘”๐‘  โ™ฅ๏ธŽ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ก ๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘’ ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘ก
โ€˜Seeing Red (The First Day of School)โ€™ by Zenryhao Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends. I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power. When I look at people, I canโ€ฆsense a sort of aura around them. A colour outline based on how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow orange tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a disease or fire; some tragedy. Anything that takes people โ€œbefore their timeโ€ as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again Iโ€™ll see someone whoโ€™s basically a stoplight. Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. Itโ€™s such a rush to see them and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout out my classmatesโ€™ fates. The first kid who came in was basically radiating red. I tsk tsk tsk. Huh. But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense red glow. I finally caught a glimpse of my own fading reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green...
Tuesday 6 November 2012 Cool SMS โ†’ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฒั”โ„“ฮนั”ฮฝั” ฮนฮท ั•ฯƒะผั”ฯƒฮทั” โˆ‚ั”ั”ฯโ„“ัƒ, ะผฮนั•-ฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ั”ัั•ั‚ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ฮนฮทgั• ฮฑัฮนั•ั”, ะฒฯ…ั‚ โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ ฦ’ฯƒั ฮนั‚โ€ฆ ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ั•ฯƒะผั” ะผฮนั•-ฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ั”ัั•ั‚ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ฮนฮทgั• ฮฑัั” ฮทั”ั”โˆ‚ั”โˆ‚ ฦ’ฯƒั gฯƒฯƒโˆ‚ ฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ั”ัั•ั‚ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ฮนฮทg.. โ†’ ฮนฦ’ ฮน ยขฯƒฯ…โ„“โˆ‚ ฯฯ…โ„“โ„“ โˆ‚ฯƒฯ‰ฮท ั‚ะฝั” ัฮฑฮนฮทะฒฯƒฯ‰ ฮน ฯ‰ฯƒฯ…โ„“โˆ‚ ฯ‰ัฮนั‚ั” ฯ…ั ฮทฮฑะผั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฮนั‚ & ฯฯ…ั‚ ฮนั‚ ะฒฮฑยขะบ ฮนฮท ั‚ะฝั” ั•ะบัƒ ั‚ฯƒ โ„“ั”ั‚ ั”ฮฝั”ััƒะฒฯƒโˆ‚ัƒ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ยขฯƒโ„“ฯƒัฦ’ฯ…โ„“ ะผัƒ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฮฑ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ โ„“ฮนะบั” ฯ…!! โ†’ ั‚ะฝฮนั• โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• ั‚ฯƒฯƒ ั•ะฝฯƒัั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ะผฮฑะบั” ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮฑยขยขั”โ„“ั”ัฮฑั‚ั” ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั•, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮน โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฯ‰ะฝัƒ ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ะฒัั”ฮฑะบ ั‚ะฝั” โˆ‚ั”ฮฝั”โ„“ฯƒฯั”โˆ‚ ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั•. ั‚ะฝฮนั• โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• ั‚ฯƒฯƒ ั•ะฝฯƒัั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ั•ฮฑัƒ ั•ฯƒะผั”ั‚ะฝฮนฮทg ั‚ฯƒ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”โˆ‚ ฯƒฮทั”ั•, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮน โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฯ‰ะฝัƒ ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ะบั”ั”ฯ ั•ฮนโ„“ั”ฮทยขั” ฦ’ฯƒั ฮฑ โ„“ฯƒฮทg ฯั”ัฮนฯƒโˆ‚. ั‚ะฝฮนั• โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• ั‚ฯƒฯƒ ั•ะฝฯƒัั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ะผฮฑะบั” ัั”ฮฑโ„“ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ั•, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮน โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฯ‰ะฝัƒ ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ะฒัั”ฮฑะบ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ั•ะฝฮนฯั•. โ†’ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• ฮทฯƒั‚ ื ฯ…ั•ั‚ ฯ‰ฮฑฮนั‚ฮนฮทg ฦ’ฯƒั ั•ฯƒะผั”ฯƒฮทั” ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ฮนั• ะผฮฑโˆ‚ั” ฦ’ฯƒั ัƒฯƒฯ…. ะฒฯ…ั‚ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• โ„“ฮนฮฝฮนฮทg ฦ’ฯƒั ั•ฯƒะผั”ฯƒฮทั”, ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ โ„“ฮนฮฝั”ั• ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฯƒฦ’ ัƒฯƒฯ…. โ†’ ฦ’โ„“ฯƒฯ‰ั”ัั• ฮทั”ั”โˆ‚ ั•ฯ…ฮทั•ะฝฮนฮทั”, ฮฝฮนฯƒโ„“ั”ั‚ั• ฮทั”ั”โˆ‚ โˆ‚ั”ฯ‰, ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ฮฑฮทgั”โ„“ั• ฮนฮท ะฝั”ฮฑฮฝั”ฮท ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฮน ฮทั”ั”โˆ‚ ฯ…. โ†’ ฮน โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ฯะฝฯƒั‚ฯƒั•. ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ั‚ะฝั” ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ั‚ะฝฮนฮทg ฮฑะฒฯƒฯ…ั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ยขะฝฮฑฮทgั”, ั”ฮฝั”ฮท ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั‚ะฝั” ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ฮนฮท ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ยขะฝฮฑฮทgั” โ€œฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ฮนฮฑะผ ั•ะฝฮฑะบั”ั•ฯั”ฮฑัั”โ€. โ†’ ฯ‰ั” โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ฯƒฯ…ัั•ั”โ„“ฦ’ ั”ฮฝั”ฮท ฮฑฦ’ั‚ั”ั ะผฮฑะบฮนฮทg ั•ฯƒ ะผฮฑฮทัƒ ะผฮนั•ั‚ฮฑะบั”ั•. ั‚ะฝั”ฮท ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ยขฮฑฮท ฯ‰ั” 4 ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ั•ะผฮฑโ„“โ„“ ะผฮนั•ั‚ฮฑะบั”ั•? ั•ั‚ัฮฑฮทgั” ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั‚ัฯ…ั”! ั•ฯƒ ะผฮฑะบั” ะฝฮฑะฒฮนั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ฦ’ฯƒัgฮนฮฝฮนฮทg. โ†’ ั”ฮฝั”ััƒโˆ‚ฮฑัƒ, ั”ฮฝั”ััƒฯ‰ะฝั”ัั”, ั”ฮฝั”ััƒั‚ฮนะผั”, ฮน ะผฮฑัƒ ฮทฯƒั‚ ะฒั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ัƒฯƒฯ…, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ะผัƒ ั‚ะฝฮนฮทะบฮนฮทg, ะผัƒ ยขฮฑัั”, ะผัƒ ั•ะผั•, ะผัƒ ฯัฮฑัƒั”ัั• ; ะผัƒ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”โ„“ัƒ ฯ‰ฮนั•ะฝั”ั• ฮฑัั” ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ัƒฯƒฯ…. โ†’ ฯ… ะผฮฑัƒ ะฒั” ฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ะผัƒ ั•ฮนgะฝั‚, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮทฯƒั‚ ฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ะผัƒ ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚, ฯ… ะผฮฑัƒ ะฒั” ฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ะผัƒ ัั”ฮฑยขะฝ ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮทฯƒั‚ ฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ะผัƒ ะผฮนฮทโˆ‚.ฮน ะผฮฑัƒ ะผั”ฮฑฮท ฮทฯƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg ั‚ฯƒ ฯ… ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ… ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฒั” ั•ฯั”ยขฮนฮฑโ„“ ั‚ฯƒ ะผั”! โ†’ ฮนฦ’ ั”ฮฝั”ั ัƒฯƒฯ… gั”ั‚ โ„“ั”ั•ั• ั•ะผั• ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ะผั”, โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ั‚ะฝฮนฮทะบ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮน โˆ‚ฮนโˆ‚ฮทโ€™ั‚ ยขฮฑัั” ฦ’ฯƒั ัƒฯƒฯ…. ฮนั‚ ะผั”ฮฑฮทั• ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮน ฮฑะผ ั•ั”ฮฑัยขะฝฮนฮทg ั‚ะฝั” ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ั•ะผั• ฦ’ฯƒั ฮฑ ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท โ„“ฮนะบั” ัƒฯƒฯ… โ†’ ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” โ„“ฮนฮฝั” โˆ‚ฮนั” โ„“ฮฑฯ…gะฝ ยขััƒ ั•ฯƒะผั” gฮนฮฝั” ฯ…ฯ ั•ฯƒะผั” ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ั‚ััƒ ั•ฯƒะผั” ั•ฮฑัƒ ะฝฮน ั•ฯƒะผั” ั•ฮฑัƒ ะฒัƒั” ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ัั• ะผฮฑัƒ ฦ’ฯƒัgั”ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮน. โ†’ ฮน ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ั”ฯ‡ฯั”ยขั‚ ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ัั• ั‚ฯƒ ั•ะผั• ะผั”. ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮนโ€™โ„“โ„“ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• โˆ‚ัฯƒฯ ะผัƒ ั•ะผั• ฮนฮทั‚ฯƒ ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ฮนฮทะฒฯƒฯ‡ ั‚ฯƒ ั•ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ฮน ั•ั‚ฮนโ„“โ„“ โ€œโ„“ฯƒฮฝั” & ัั”ะผั”ะผะฒั”ัโ€ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฯƒั ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ั•ะผั• โ†’ ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ gฯƒฯƒโˆ‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั•ฯƒะผั”ะฒฯƒโˆ‚ัƒ ะผฮนั•ั• ฯ…. ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ ะฒั”ั‚ั‚ั”ั ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั•ฯƒะผั”ะฒฯƒโˆ‚ัƒ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”ั• ฯ…. ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั•ฯƒะผั”ะฒฯƒโˆ‚ัƒ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฦ’ฯƒัgั”ั‚ั• ฯ…. โ†’ ั‚ฯ‰ฯƒ ั‚ะฝฮนฮทgั• ยขฮฑฮท ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ะฒั” โˆ‚ั”ฦ’ฮนฮทั”โˆ‚ ฮนฮท ฯ‰ะฝฯƒโ„“ั” โ„“ฮนฦ’ั”, โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”: ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”ั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ะผฯ…ยขะฝ. &; ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚: ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ะฝฯƒฯ‰ โˆ‚ั”ั”ฯโ„“ัƒ ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ยขฮฑัั” ฮฑะฒฯƒฯ…ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ…. โ†’ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ฮฑั•ะบ gฯƒโˆ‚ ั‚ฯƒ gฮนฮฝั” ฯ… ฯ‰ะฝฮฑั‚ ฯ… โˆ‚ั”ั•ั”ัฮฝั”, ฮทฯƒั‚ ฯ‰ะฝฮฑั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… โˆ‚ั”ั•ฮนัั”. ะฒยขฯƒz ัƒฯƒฯ…ั โˆ‚ั”ั•ฮนัั”ั• ะผฮฑัƒ ะฒั” ฦ’ั”ฯ‰, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… โˆ‚ั”ั•ั”ัฮฝั”ั• ฮฑ โ„“ฯƒั‚! โ†’ ั•ฯƒะผั” ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั• ฮฑัั” โ„“ฮนะบั” ั‚ฯƒะผ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ื ั”ัััƒ. ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ั‚ั”ฮฑั•ั” ั”ฮฑยขะฝ ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั, ะบฮทฯƒยขะบ โˆ‚ฯƒฯ‰ฮท ั”ฮฑยขะฝ ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั, ฮนััฮนั‚ฮฑั‚ั” ั”ฮฑยขะฝ ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ั”ฮฝั”ฮท ยขฮฑฮทโ€™ั‚ โ„“ฮนฮฝั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ั”ฮฑยขะฝ ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั! โ†’ ฮฑฮท ั”ฯ‡ยขั”โ„“โ„“ั”ฮทั‚ ัฯƒฮฑโˆ‚ ั•ั”ฮทั‚ั”ฮทยขั” ฯ‰ัฮนั‚ั‚ั”ฮท ฯƒฮท ฮทฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทฮฑโ„“ ะฝฮนgะฝฯ‰ฮฑัƒ: gฯƒ ั•โ„“ฯƒฯ‰, ฯ…ฮทโ„“ั”ั•ั• ฯ… ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฮฑฮท ฯ…ัgั”ฮทั‚ ฮฑฯฯฯƒฮนฮทั‚ะผั”ฮทั‚ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ gฯƒโˆ‚! โ†’ ะฝฮฑัโˆ‚ ั‚ฮนะผั”ั• ฮฑัั” โ„“ฮนะบั” ฮฑ ฯ‰ฮฑั•ะฝฮนฮทg ะผฮฑยขะฝฮนฮทั”, ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ั‚ฯ‰ฮนั•ั‚, ั‚ฯ…ัฮท &ฮฑะผฯ; ะบฮทฯƒยขะบ ฯ…ั• ฮฑัฯƒฯ…ฮทโˆ‚, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮนฮท ั‚ะฝั” ั”ฮทโˆ‚ ฯ‰ั” ยขฯƒะผั” ฯƒฯ…ั‚ ยขโ„“ั”ฮฑฮทั”ั, ะฒัฮนgะฝั‚ั”ั &ฮฑะผฯ; ะฒั”ั‚ั‚ั”ั ั‚ะฝฮฑฮท ะฒั”ฦ’ฯƒัั”โ€ฆ โ†’ ั•ฯƒะผั”ั‚ฮนะผั”ั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ั‚ฯƒ ัฯ…ฮท ฮฑฯ‰ฮฑัƒ. ฮทฯƒั‚ ื ฯ…ั•ั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ยขัั”ฮฑั‚ั” โˆ‚ฮนั•ั‚ฮฑฮทยขั”ั•. ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ั•ั”ั” ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ยขฮฑัั”ั• ั”ฮทฯƒฯ…gะฝ ั‚ฯƒ ัฯ…ฮท ะฒั”ะฝฮนฮทโˆ‚ ัƒฯƒฯ…! โ†’ ะผัƒ ฯ‰ฮฑัƒ ฯƒฦ’ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” . ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” โ„“ฮฑฯ…gะฝ ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฮน ฮฑะผ โˆ‚ฮนฦ’ฦ’ั”ัั”ฮทั‚, ฮน โ„“ฮฑฯ…gะฝ ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ฮฑัั” ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝั” ั•ฮฑะผั”, . ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ั• ยขฮฑโ„“โ„“ั”โˆ‚ โ€˜ฮฑั‚ั‚ฮนั‚ฯ…โˆ‚ั”โ€™โ€ฆ โ€œโ„“ฮนฮฝั” ฮนั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ฯƒฯ‰ฮท ฯ‰ฮฑัƒโ€ โ†’ ฮฑ ฯฯƒฯฯ…โ„“ฮฑั ฮนฮทั•ฯฮนัฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทฮฑโ„“ ั•ฯั”ฮฑะบั”ั ั•ฮฑฮนโˆ‚: ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ัƒั”ฮฑัั• ฯƒฦ’ ะผัƒ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฯ‰ั”ัั” ั•ฯั”ฮทั‚ ฮนฮท ฮฑัะผั• ฯƒฦ’ ฮฑ ฯ‰ฯƒะผฮฑฮท ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ฯ‰ฮฑั•ฮทโ€™ั‚ ะผัƒ ฯ‰ฮนฦ’ั”! ฮฑฯ…โˆ‚ฮนั”ฮทยขั” ฯ‰ฮฑั• ั•ะฝฯƒยขะบั”โˆ‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั•ฮนโ„“ั”ฮทยขั”. ะฝั” ฮฑโˆ‚โˆ‚ั”โˆ‚: ั•ะฝั” ฯ‰ฮฑั• ะผัƒ ะผฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั! ฮฑฯ…โˆ‚ฮนั”ฮทยขั” ฮฑฯฯโ„“ฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ โ„“ฮฑฯ…gะฝั‚ั”ั! โ†’ ฯƒฯ…ั ะฒฯƒโˆ‚ัƒ ฮนั• ฦ’ฯ…โ„“โ„“ัƒ ะผฮฑโˆ‚ั” ฯƒฦ’ ฯ‰ฮฑั‚ั”ั ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฮนั‚ ะฝฯ…ัั‚ั• ะฒโ„“ฯƒฯƒโˆ‚ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ฯƒฯ…ั‚. ฯƒฯ…ั ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚ ฮนั• ฦ’ฯ…โ„“โ„“ ฯƒฦ’ ะฒโ„“ฯƒฯƒโˆ‚ ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฮนั‚ ะฝฯ…ัั‚ั•, ฯ‰ฮฑั‚ั”ั ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ฯƒฯ…ั ั”ัƒั”ั•. โ†’ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• ฮฑ ฯƒฮทั” ฯ‰ฮฑัƒ ัฯƒฮฑโˆ‚. ฯ‰ะฝั”ัั” ยขฮฑฮท ั•ั”ั” ะฒฮฑยขะบ. ะฒฯ…ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… ยขฮฑฮท ฮทฯƒั‚ gฯƒ ะฒฮฑยขะบ. ั•ฯƒ โˆ‚ฯƒ ฮทฯƒั‚ ะผฮนั•ั• ฮฑฮทัƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg. ั”ฮทื ฯƒัƒ ั”ฮฝั”ััƒ ั•ั”ยขฯƒฮทโˆ‚ ฯƒฦ’ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั”! โ†’ ฮนฦ’ ฮฑฮท ั”gg ะฒัั”ฮฑะบั• โˆ‚ฯ…ั” 2 ฯƒฯ…ั‚ั•ฮนโˆ‚ั” ฦ’ฯƒัยขั”! โ€œฮนฮทั•ฮนโˆ‚ั” โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ั”ฮทโˆ‚ั•!โ€ ะฒฯ…ั‚โ€ฆ ฮนฦ’ ฮนั‚ ะฒัั”ฮฑะบั• ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ฮนฮทั•ฮนโˆ‚ั”! โ€œโ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ะฒั”gฮนฮทั•!โ€ gัั”ฮฑั‚ ั‚ะฝฮนฮทgั• ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฒั”gฮนฮท ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ฮนฮทั•ฮนโˆ‚ั”! ั•ฯƒ ั‚ััƒ ั‚ฯƒ ะผฮฑะบั” ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ฮนฮทั•ฮนโˆ‚ั” gฯƒฯƒโˆ‚! โ†’ ฮฑ โ„“ฮนั‚ั‚โ„“ั” โˆ‚ฮนฦ’ฦ’ั”ัั”ฮทยขั” ะฒั”ั‚ฯ‰ั”ั”ฮท ฯัฯƒะผฮนั•ั”ั• &ฮฑะผฯ; ะผั”ะผฯƒัฮนั”ั•. ฯัฯƒะผฮนั•ั”ั•: ฯ‰ั” ะฒัั”ฮฑะบ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ &ฮฑะผฯ; ะผั”ะผฯƒัฮนั”ั•: ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ะฒัั”ฮฑะบ ฯ…ั•. โ†’ ะบั”ั”ฯ ฮฑ ั•ฯั”ยขฮนฮฑโ„“ ฯโ„“ฮฑยขั” ฦ’ฯƒั ะผั” ฮนฮท ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚, ฮทฯƒั‚ ฮนฮท ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ะผฮนฮทโˆ‚! ะบั”ั”ฯฮนฮทg ะผั” ฮนฮท ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ะผฮนฮทโˆ‚ ยขฮฑฮท ะฒั” โˆ‚ฮฑฮทgั”ัฯƒฯ…ั• ฦ’ฯƒั ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ั•ฮฑัƒ ฮน ฮฑะผ ะผฮนฮทโˆ‚ ะฒโ„“ฯƒฯ‰ฮนฮทgโ€ฆ โ†’ ะฝฮฑฯฯฮนฮทั”ั•ั• ยขฮฑฮทฮทฯƒั‚ ะฒั” ฦ’ฯƒฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… ั•ั”ั”ะบ ฮนั‚ ฦ’ฯƒั ัƒฯƒฯ…ัั•ั”โ„“ฦ’ ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… gฮนฮฝั” ฮนั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ัั•, ฮนั‚ ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฦ’ฮนฮทโˆ‚ ฮนั‚โ€™ั• ฯ‰ฮฑัƒ ะฒฮฑยขะบ ั‚ฯƒ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚โ€™ั• ั‚ะฝั” ะผัƒั•ั‚ั”ััƒ ฯƒฦ’ ะฝฮฑฯฯฮนฮทั”ั•ั• ฮนั‚ gัฯƒฯ‰ั• ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั•ะฝฮฑัั”โˆ‚. โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” ะฝฮฑฯฯฮนั”ั•ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ฮทั”ยขั”ั•ั•ฮฑัฮนโ„“ัƒ ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ั‚ะฝั” ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ั”ฮฝั”ััƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg. ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ื ฯ…ั•ั‚ ะผฮฑะบั” ั‚ะฝั” ะผฯƒั•ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ั”ฮฝั”ััƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg, ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ฮฑโ„“ฯƒฮทg ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ฯ‰ฮฑัƒ. โ†’ โˆ‚ั”ฮฑั‚ะฝ ฮนั• ฮทฯƒั‚ ั‚ะฝั” gัั”ฮฑั‚ั”ั•ั‚ โ„“ฯƒั•ั• ฮนฮท โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ั‚ะฝั” gัั”ฮฑั‚ั”ั•ั‚ โ„“ฯƒั•ั• ฯƒฦ’ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฮนั• ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั•ะฝฮนฯ โˆ‚ฮนั”ั• ฮฑะผฯƒฮทg ฯ…ั• ฯ‰ะฝฮนโ„“ั” ฯ‰ั” ั ฮฑโ„“ฮนฮฝั” ั•ฯƒ ะฒ ั•ั‚ัฯƒฮทg ฮนฮท ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั•. โ†’ ั”ฯ‡ฯัั”ั•ั•ฮนฯƒฮท ฯƒฦ’ ั‚ะฝั” ฦ’ฮฑยขั” ยขฯƒฯ…โ„“โˆ‚ ะฒั” ั•ั”ั”ฮท ะฒัƒ ั”ฮฝั”ััƒฯƒฮทั”. ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั‚ะฝั” โˆ‚ั”ฯัั”ั•ั•ฮนฯƒฮท ฯƒฦ’ ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚ ยขฯƒฯ…โ„“โˆ‚ ะฒั” ฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ั”ัั•ั‚ฯƒฯƒโˆ‚ ฯƒฮทโ„“ัƒ ะฒัƒ ั‚ะฝั” ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ฯƒฮทั”. โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ โ„“ฯƒั•ั” ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ฮนฮท โ„“ฮนฦ’ั”. โ†’ ั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั•ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ั• ฯƒฦ’ โ„“ฮฑฮทgฯ…ฮฑgั”ั• ฮฑัฯƒฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ ั‚ะฝฮนั• ฯ‰ฯƒัโ„“โˆ‚ ะฒฯ…ั‚ โ€œั•ะผฮนโ„“ั”โ€ ยขฮฑฮท ะฒั”ฮฑั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ฮฑโ„“โ„“. ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” โ€œั•ะผฮนโ„“ั”โ€ ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั” โ„“ฮฑฮทgฯ…ฮฑgั” ั”ฮฝั”ฮท ฮฑ ะฒฮฑะฒัƒ ยขฮฑฮท ั•ฯั”ฮฑะบ.. โ†’ ั•ฯƒะผั” ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ฮนะผฯฯƒัั‚ฮฑฮทั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ฯัั”ั•ั”ฮทยขั” ฮนั•. ะฝฯƒฯ‰ gฯƒฯƒโˆ‚ ฮนั‚ ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ั• ั‚ฯƒ ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ั‚ะฝั”ะผ ฮฑัฯƒฯ…ฮทโˆ‚. ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ยขฯƒะผฦ’ฯƒัั‚ฮนฮทg ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ฯ‰ฯƒัโˆ‚ั• ฮฑัั”. ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ะฝฯƒฯ‰ ั•ฮฑั‚ฮนั•ฦ’ัƒฮนฮทg ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั” ฮฝั”ััƒ ั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…gะฝั‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ั”ฯ‡ฮนั•ั‚. ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ฯ‰ฯƒฯ…โ„“โˆ‚ฮทโ€™ั‚ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฯ…ฮทโ„“ั”ั•ั• ฯ‰ั” ั‚ั”โ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ โ„“ฮนะบั” ฮน ฮฑะผ ั‚ั”โ„“โ„“ฮนฮทg ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮทฯƒฯ‰. ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑัั” ั‚ัฯ…ั”โ„“ัƒ ฮฝฮฑโ„“ฯ…ั”โˆ‚โ€ฆ!! โ†’ ะฒั”ั•ั‚ โ„“ฮนฮทั”ั• ะฒัƒ ฮฑ ะฒั”ั•ั‚ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚: โ€œฮนั‚ ะฝฯ…ัั‚ั• ะผั” ฯ… ั‚ฮฑโ„“ะบ ั‚ฯƒ ั•0ะผั”0ฮทั” ั”โ„“ั•ั” ฮท ฮท0ั‚ ะผั”.. .. ฮนั‚ ะฝฯ…ัั‚ั• ั”ฮฝั”ฮท ะผ0ัั” ฯ‰ั”ฮท ั•0ะผั”1 ั”โ„“ั•ั” ะผฮฑะบั”ั• ฯ… ั•ะผฮนโ„“ั” ฮท ฮน ยขฮฑฮทโ€™ั‚ . . .โ€ โ†’ gฯƒั‚ ฮฑ gฮนฦ’ั‚ ฦ’ฯƒั ัƒฯƒฯ…! ฮทฯƒ ยขฯƒั•ั‚, ั”ฯ‡ั‚ัั”ะผั”โ„“ัƒ ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮทฮฑโ„“! ฦ’ฯ…โ„“โ„“ัƒ ัั”ั‚ฯ…ัฮทฮฑะฒโ„“ั”! ฮนั‚ั• ฮฑ ะฝฯ…g ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ะผั” ั‚ฯƒ ัƒฯƒฯ…!! โ†’ ฯ… ะผฮฑัƒ ะผั”ั”ั‚ ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั”, ะฒั”ั‚ั‚ั”ั ั‚ะฝฮฑฮท ะผั”, ฦ’ฯ…ฮทฮทฮนั”ั ั‚ะฝฮฑฮท ะผั”, ะผฯƒัั” ะฒั”ฮฑฯ…ั‚ฮนฦ’ฯ…โ„“ ั‚ะฝฮฑฮท ะผั”, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯƒฮทั” ั‚ะฝฮนฮทg ฮน ยขฮฑฮท ั•ฮฑัƒ 2 ฯ… _ _ ฮน ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ะฒั” ั‚ะฝั”ัั” 4 ฯ… ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ฮฑโ„“โ„“ โ„“ั”ฮฑฮฝั” ฯ…. โ†’ ะผฯƒะฒฮนโ„“ั”ั• ฮฑัั” ฮนััฮนั‚ฮฑั‚ฮนฮทg, โˆ‚ฮฑฮนโ„“ัƒ ยขะฝฮฑัgฮนฮทg, ะผฯƒฮทั‚ะฝโ„“ัƒ ัั”ยขะฝฮฑัgฮนฮทg, ฮฑฮทฮทฯƒัƒฮนฮทg ะฒั”ั”ฯั•, ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• โˆ‚ฮนั•ั‚ฯ…ัะฒฮนฮทg, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั•ั‚ฮนโ„“โ„“ ฮน โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ะผัƒ ะผฯƒะฒฮนโ„“ั” ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฮนั‚ ยขฯƒฮทฮทั”ยขั‚ั• โ€œฯ… & ะผั”โ€ โ†’ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั•ฯƒะผั”ฯƒฮทั” ะฝฯ…ัั‚ั• ฯ… . . . . โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ ฦ’ั”ั”โ„“ ะฒฮฑโˆ‚ ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฮนั‚ั• ั‚ะฝั” โ„“ฮฑฯ‰ ฯƒฦ’ ฮทฮฑั‚ฯ…ัั” ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ั‚ะฝั” ั‚ัั”ั” ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ะฒั”ฮฑัั• ั‚ะฝั” ั•ฯ‰ั”ั”ั‚ั”ั•ั‚ ฦ’ัฯ…ฮนั‚ั• gั”ั‚ั• ะผฮฑฯ‡ฮนะผฯ…ะผ ฮทฯ…ะผะฒั”ั ฯƒฦ’ ั•ั‚ฯƒฮทั”ั• โ†’ ฮฑ ะฝฯ…g ฮนั• ฮฑ gฮนฦ’ั‚ ฯƒฮทั” ั•ฮนzั” ฦ’ฮนั‚ ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ฮนั‚ ยขฮฑฮท ะฒั” gฮนฮฝั”ฮท ฮนฮท ฮฑฮทัƒ ฯƒยขยขฮฑั•ฮนฯƒฮท ั•ฯƒ ฮน ฮฑะผ ั•ั”ฮทโˆ‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ะฝฮนั• ะฝฯ…g ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ั”โ„“โ„“ ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮน โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ัƒฯƒฯ…. โ†’ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ฯ… ฦ’ฮฑยขั” ยขะฝฯƒฮนยขั”ั•โ€ฆ ื ฯ…ั•ั‚ ั‚ฯƒั•ั• ฮฑ ยขฯƒฮนฮท.. ฮทฯƒั‚ ื ฯ…ั•ั‚ ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฮนั‚ ั•ั”ั‚ั‚โ„“ั”ั• ั‚ะฝั” qฯ…ั”ั•ั‚ฮนฯƒฮท, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ะฝฮนโ„“ั” ั‚ะฝั” ยขฯƒฮนฮท ฮนั• ฮนฮท ฮฑฮนั, ฯ… ฯ‰ฮนโ„“โ„“ ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฯ‰ะฝฮฑั‚ ฯ…ั ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚ ฮนั• ะฝฯƒฯฮนฮทg ฦ’ฯƒั !!! โ†’ ั‚ะฝั” โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”โ„“ฮนั”ั•ั‚ โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… ฯ‰ฮฑะบั” ฯ…ฯ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฦ’ฮนฮทโˆ‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ั•ั‚ฮนโ„“โ„“ ยขฯƒโ„“ฯƒัั• ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ฯ‰ฯƒัโ„“โˆ‚ ั‚ะฝัฯ… ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ั‚ัฯ…โ„“ัƒ ยขฮฑัั” ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฦ’ฮฑฮนโ„“ ั‚ฯƒ ัั”ะผั”ะผะฒั”ั ัƒฯƒฯ…. โ†’ ั‚ะฝั”ัั” ฮนั• ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ฮฑ ัั”ฮฑั•ฯƒฮท 4 ั”ฮฝั”ััƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg ฮฑ ัั”ฮฑั•ฯƒฮท 2 โ„“ฮนฮฝั” 2 โˆ‚ฮนั” 2 ยขััƒ, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮนฦ’ ฯ… ยขฮฑฮท๏ฟฝั‚ ฦ’ฮนฮทโˆ‚ ฮฑ ัั”ฮฑั•ฯƒฮท ั‚ฯƒ ั•ะผฮนโ„“ั” ยขฮฑฮท ฮน ะฒั” ั‚ะฝั” ัั”ฮฑั•ฯƒฮท 4 ฮฑ ฯ‰ะฝฮนโ„“ั”:) โ†’ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” + โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” = ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” โ€“ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” = ั•ฮฑโˆ‚ ฮฑโˆ‚โˆ‚ฮนฮทg ฮฑะฒฯƒฮฝั” 2, โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” + โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” = ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” โ€“ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” = ั•ฮฑโˆ‚ โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€“ 2โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” = ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ + ั•ฮฑโˆ‚ ั•ฯƒ, โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” = 1/2ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ + 1/2ั•ฮฑโˆ‚ โ†’ ฮน ั•ะผฮนโ„“ั” ฮฑั‚ ฯ‰ะฝฯƒะผ ฮน โ„“ฮนะบั”; ฮน ยขััƒ 4 ฯ‰ะฝฯƒะผ ฮน ยขฮฑัั”; ฮน ั•ะฝฮฑัั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฯ‰ะฝฯƒะผ ฮน โ„“ฯƒฮฝั”; ฮน โ„“ฮฑฯ…gะฝ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ฯ‰ะฝฯƒะผ ฮน ั”ฮทื ฯƒัƒ; ฮน ั•ั”ฮทโˆ‚ ั•ะผั• ฯƒฮทโ„“ัƒ 2 ั‚ะฝฯƒั•ั” ฯ‰ะฝฯƒะผ ฮน ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฯ‰ฮฑฮทั‚ 2 โ„“ฯƒั•ั” โ†’ ัั”ฮฑโ„“ฮนzั” ั‚ะฝฮนฮทgั• ะฒั”ฦ’ฯƒัั” ฮนั‚โ€™ั• ั‚ฯƒฯƒ โ„“ฮฑั‚ั”. ฮฑยขยขั”ฯั‚ ั‚ะฝฮนฮทgั• ั‚ะฝฮฑฮท โˆ‚ั”โ„“ฮฑัƒ ั‚ะฝั”ะผ. โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ฯั”ฯƒฯโ„“ั” ะฒั”ฦ’ฯƒัั” ัƒฯƒฯ… โ„“ฯƒั•ั” ั‚ะฝั”ะผ. โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ื ฯ…ั•ั‚ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ฯƒฮทยขั”. โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ฮนั‚ ฯ‰ะฝฮนโ„“ั” ัƒฯƒฯ… โ„“ฮนฮฝั” ฮนั‚. โ†’ ฮน โˆ‚ั”ยขฮนโˆ‚ั”โˆ‚ ั‚ฯƒ ั•ั”ฮทโˆ‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ะฝั” ยขฯ…ั‚ั”ั•ั‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั•ฯ‰ั”ั”ั‚ั”ั•ั‚ gฮนฦ’ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ั‚ะฝั” ฯ‰ฯƒัโ„“โˆ‚. ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั‚ะฝั” ฯฯƒั•ั‚ะผฮฑฮท ั•ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ั”โˆ‚ ฮฑั‚ ะผั” ั•ฮฑัƒฮนฮทg, gั”ั‚ ฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฯƒฦ’ ั‚ะฝั” ฯฯƒั•ั‚ ะฒฯƒฯ‡. โ†’ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ฮนั• โ„“ฮนะบั” ฮฑ ฦ’ัฯ…ฮนั‚โ„“ั”ั•ั• ั‚ัั”ั”, ะฒฯ…ั‚ โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ั• ฮนั• โ„“ฮนะบั” ัฯƒฯƒั‚โ„“ั”ั•ั• ั‚ัั”ั”. ั‚ัั”ั” ยขฮฑฮท โ„“ฮนฮฝั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฦ’ัฯ…ฮนั‚ ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฮทฯƒั‚ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ัฯƒฯƒั‚! โ†’ ยขฮฑัััƒ ฮฑ ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ะฝฮฑั‚ั”ั•, ยขฮฑัััƒ ฮฑ ั•ะผฮนโ„“ั” ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฦ’ฮฑโˆ‚ั”ั•, ยขฮฑัััƒ ฮฑ ั‚ฯƒฯ…ยขะฝ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ะฝฯ…ัั‚ั•, ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ยขฮฑัััƒ ฮฑ ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั•ะฝฮนฯ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ะฒัั”ฮฑะบั•. โ†’ ฮฑั• ฯัั”ยขฮนฯƒฯ…ั• ฮฑั• ฯ… ั ั‚ฯƒ ะผั”, ฮฑั• ฯัั”ยขฮนฯƒฯ…ั• ฮทฯƒ ฯƒฮทั” ยขฮฑฮท ั”ฮฝั”ั ะฒั”, ฮน ะบฮทฯƒฯ‰ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ั• ั ะฝฮฑัโˆ‚ ั‚ฯƒ ยขะฝฯƒฯƒั•ั”, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ… ั ฮฑ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ ฮน ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ฯ‰ฮฑฮทั‚ ั‚ฯƒ โ„“ฯƒั•ั”. โ†’ ะผฯƒฮทั”ัƒ ั•ฮฑัƒั• ั”ฮฑัฮท ะผั” โ„“ฯƒั‚, ั‚ฮนะผั” ั•ฮฑัƒั• ฯโ„“ฮฑฮท ะผั” โ„“ฯƒั‚, ฦ’โ„“ฯƒฯ‰ั”ั ั•ฮฑัƒั• โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ะผั” โ„“ฯƒั‚, ั•ั‚ฯ…โˆ‚ัƒ ั•ฮฑัƒั• โ„“ั”ฮฑัฮท ะผั” โ„“ฯƒั‚, ั•ะผั• ั•ฮฑัƒั• ั•ั”ฮทโˆ‚ ะผั” โ„“ฯƒั‚, ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ โ„“ ั•ฮฑัƒ ัั”ะผั”ะผะฒั”ั ะผั” โ„“ฯƒั‚. โ†’ ฯ… ฯ‰ฮฑฮทั‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯ… gั”ั‚ ฯ… ฯ‰ฮฑฮทั‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯ… gั”ั‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮนั• โ„“ฯ…ยขะบ, ฯ… ฯ‰ฮฑฮทั‚ ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฯ… ฯ‰ฮฑฮนั‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮนั• ั‚ฮนะผั”, ฯ… ฯ‰ฮฑฮทั‚ ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ… ยขฯƒะผฯัฯƒะผฮนั•ั” ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฮนั• โ„“ฮนฦ’ั” โ†’ ะผั”ะผฯƒัฮนั”ั• ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ั•ั‚ัฮฑฮทgั” ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั•. ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ โ„“ั”ฮฑฮฝั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑโ„“ฯƒฮทั”. ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑัั” ฮนฮท ฮฑ ยขัฯƒฯ‰โˆ‚. ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… ฮฑัั” ฮฑโ„“ฯƒฮทั”. ั‚ะฝั”ัƒ ั•ั‚ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ฮฑัฯƒฯ…ฮทโˆ‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… โ„“ฮนะบั” ฮฑ ยขัฯƒฯ‰โˆ‚. โ†’ ฮนฦ’ ฯ…ั ฮฑ ยขะฝฯƒยขฯƒโ„“ฮฑั‚ั” ฯ…ั ั‚ะฝั” ั•ฯ‰ั”ั”ั‚ั”ั•ั‚, ฮนฦ’ ฯ…ั ฮฑ ั‚ั”โˆ‚โˆ‚ัƒ ะฒั”ฮฑั ฯ…ั ั‚ะฝั” ะผฯƒั•ั‚ ะฝฯ…ggฮฑะฒโ„“ั”, ฮนฦ’ ฯ… ฮฑัั” ฮฑ ั•ั‚ฮฑั ฯ… ั ั‚ะฝั” ะฒัฮนgะฝั‚ั”ั•ั‚, ฮฑฮทโˆ‚ ั•ฮนฮทยขั” ฯ… ั ะผัƒ ๏ฟฝฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚๏ฟฝ ฯ… ั ั‚ะฝั” ๏ฟฝะฒั”ั•ั‚๏ฟฝ! โ†’ ัฯƒั•ั” ฮนั• ฦ’ฮฑะผฯƒฯ…ั• 4 gัฮฑยขั”โ€ฆ ฮฑโˆ‚ฮฝฯƒยขฮฑั‚ั” ฮนั• ฦ’ฮฑะผฯƒฯ…ั• 4 ะฝฮนั• ยขฮฑั•ั”โ€ฆ ะฝฯƒัั•ั”ั• ั ฦ’ฮฑะผฯƒฯ…ั• 4 ัฮฑยขั”โ€ฆ ะฒฯ…ั‚ ฯ… ั ฦ’ฮฑะผฯƒฯ…ั• 4 ั•ะผฮนโ„“ั” ฯƒฮท ฯ…ั ฦ’ฮฑยขั”โ€ฆ! ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฮฑ ฮทฮนยขั” โˆ‚ฮฑัƒ โ†’ โ€œฮน ั‚ัฯ…ั•ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ…โ€ ฮนั• ฮฑ ะฒั”ั‚ั‚ั”ั ยขฯƒะผฯโ„“ฮนะผั”ฮทั‚ ั‚ะฝฮฑฮท โ€œฮน โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ัƒฯƒฯ…โ€ ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ะผฮฑัƒ ฮทฯƒั‚ ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• ั‚ัฯ…ั•ั‚ ั‚ะฝั” ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ะฒฯ…ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… ยขฮฑฮท ฮฑโ„“ฯ‰ฮฑัƒั• โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ั‚ะฝั” ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท ัƒฯƒฯ… ั‚ัฯ…ั•ั‚. โ†’ ฮน ฯ‰ฮฑฮทฮทฮฑ ะบั”ั”ฯ3 ั‚ะฝฮนฮทgั•: . . ั‚ะฝั” ั•ฯ…ฮท ั‚ะฝั” ะผฯƒฯƒฮท & ะผัƒ ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ั• ั•ฯ…ฮท 4 โˆ‚ฮฑัƒั‚ฮนะผั” ะผฯƒฯƒฮท ฦ’ฯƒั ฮทฮนgะฝั‚ ั‚ฮนะผั” &ฮฑะผฯ; ฯ….ะผัƒ โˆ‚ั”ฮฑั ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ 4 โ„“ฮนฦ’ั”ั‚ฮนะผั” โ†’ ฮนฦ’ ัƒฯƒฯ… โ„“ฯƒฮฝั” ั•ฯƒะผั”ั‚ะฝฮนฮทg, โ„“ั”ั‚ ฮนั‚ gฯƒ. ฮนฦ’ ฮนั‚ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ะฒฮฑยขะบ ั‚ฯƒ ัƒฯƒฯ…, ฮนั‚ั• ัƒฯƒฯ…ัั• ฦ’ฯƒัั”ฮฝั”ั. ฮนฦ’ ฮนั‚ โˆ‚ฯƒั”ั•ฮทโ€™ั‚, ั‚ะฝั”ฮท ฮนั‚ ฯ‰ฮฑั• ฮทั”ฮฝั”ั ะผั”ฮฑฮทั‚ ั‚ฯƒ ะฒั”. โ†’ ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ฮฑ ะผั”ั•ั•ฮฑgั” ฮนั• ั•ั”ฮทั‚ ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ฮฑ โˆ‚ฮนั•ั‚ฮฑฮทยขั”, ัƒฯƒฯ… ยขฮฑฮทโ€™ั‚ ั•ั”ั” ั‚ะฝั” ฦ’ฮฑยขั”ั•, ัƒฯƒฯ… ยขฮฑฮทโ€™ั‚ ั•ั”ั” ั‚ะฝั” ั•ะผฮนโ„“ั”ั•, ะฒฯ…ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ… ยขฮฑฮท ั•ั”ั” ั‚ะฝั” ยขฮฑัั” ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ั‚ัฯ…โ„“ัƒ ยขฯƒะผั”ั• ฦ’ัฯƒะผ ะฝั”ฮฑัั‚ ! โ†’ โˆ‚ฯƒฮทโ€™ั‚ โ„“ั”ั‚ ั•ฯƒะผั”ฯƒฮทั” ะฒั”ยขฯƒะผั” ัƒฯƒฯ…ั ั”ฮฝั”ััƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg, ะฒั”ยขฮฑฯ…ั•ั” ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ั‚ะฝั”ัƒโ€™ัั” gฯƒฮทั” ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฮฑฮฝั” ฮทฯƒั‚ะฝฮนฮทg! โ†’ ั•ฯั”ฮฑะบฮนฮทg ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ั”gฯƒั•, โ„“ฯƒฮฝฮนฮทg ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฮนฮทั‚ั”ฮทั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั•, ยขฮฑัฮนฮทg ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ั”ฯ‡ฯั”ยขั‚ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั• &ฮฑะผฯ; ฯัฮฑัƒฮนฮทg ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ั•ั”โ„“ฦ’ฮนั•ะฝฮทั”ั•ั•, ฮนั• ั‚ะฝั” ั•ฮนgฮท ฯƒฦ’ โ€œั‚ัฯ…ั” ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทโ€. โ†’ ัั”โ„“ฮฑั‚ฮนฯƒฮทั•ะฝฮนฯ ัั”qฯ…ฮนัั”ั• โ„“ฮนั‚ั‚โ„“ั” ั”ฦ’ฦ’ฯƒัั‚ั•โ€ฆโ€ฆโ€ฆ.. ั”ฮฝั”ฮท ฯ‰ะฝั”ฮท ฦ’ัฮนั”ฮทโˆ‚ั• ฮฑัั” ะฒฯ…ั•ัƒ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ั‚ะฝั”ฮนั ฯƒฯ‰ฮท โ„“ฮนฮฝั”ั•, ฮฑ ั•ฮนะผฯโ„“ั” ั•ะผั• ัั”ะผฮนฮทโˆ‚ั• ั”ฮฑยขะฝ ฯƒั‚ะฝั”ั ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚โ€ฆโ€ฆ. โ€œฯ… ั ฮทฯƒั‚ ฦ’ฯƒัgฯƒั‚ั‚ั”ฮทโ€ โ†’ ะฒั” ยขโ„“ฯƒั•ั” ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝ ั•ฯƒะผั”ฯƒฮทั” ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ะผฮฑะบั”ั• ัƒฯƒฯ… ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒโ€ฆ! ะฒฯ…ั‚ ะฒั” ะผฯ…ยขะฝ ยขโ„“ฯƒั•ั”ั ั‚ฯƒ ั‚ะฝฮฑั‚ ฯั”ัั•ฯƒฮท ฯ‰ะฝฯƒ ยขฮฑฮทโ€™ั‚ ะฒั” ะฝฮฑฯฯัƒ ฯ‰ฮนั‚ะฝฯƒฯ…ั‚ ัƒฯƒฯ…โ€ฆ! โ†’ ั•ฯƒฯƒฯƒฯƒฯƒฯƒโ€ฆ. ั•ฮนะผฯโ„“ั” ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั•ฯƒ ฮฑั‚ั‚ัฮฑยขั‚ฮนฮฝั”. ั•ฯƒ.. ั”ฮทโ„“ฮนgะฝั‚ฮทฮนฮทg ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั•ฯƒ ยขฯƒฯƒโ„“. ั•ฯƒ ะผฯƒฮฝฮนฮทg ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั•ฯƒ ั•ั‚ฮนโ„“โ„“. ั•ฯƒโ€ฆ qฯ…ฮนั‚ั” ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั•ฯƒ ฯฯƒฯฯ…โ„“ฮฑั. ั•ฯƒ ัฯƒะผฮฑฮทั‚ฮนยข ะฒฯ…ั‚ ั•ั‚ฮนโ„“โ„“ ั•ฮนฮทgโ„“ั”. ฮนั‚โ€™ั• ั‚ะฝั” ั‚ัฮฑgั”โˆ‚ัƒ ฯƒฦ’ ะผฯƒฯƒฮท:-
I V X L C D M 1 5 10 50 100 500 1000 ๐Ÿ”ข Individual decimal places Thousands Hundreds Tens Units 1 M C X I 2 MM CC XX II 3 MMM CCC XXX III 4 CD XL IV 5 D L V 6 DC LX VI 7 DCC LXX VII 8 DCCC LXXX VIII 9 CM XC IX
๐“๐‡๐ˆ๐๐†๐’ ๐“๐Ž ๐ƒ๐Ž + make a wishlist so youโ€™ll be prepared when itโ€™s your birthday/Christmas + do five or more journal prompts + start a new hobby or make a list of new hobbies youโ€™d like to try + write a letter to your future self or film a video for your future self + digital redecorating: change the theme/layout of your devices + reread a book you havenโ€™t read in 3 or more years + watch a show or film in a genre you donโ€™t usually watch + go on YouTube and make a playlist of your favorite self improvement/advice videos to watch when youโ€™re down or need a push + learn a favorite song on an instrument + paint or draw the view outside your bedroom window + make a Pinterest board that perfectly captures the vibe(s) you wish to embody + organize your desk + go on a walk when the sun sets + watch a YouTuber you used to love + plan your ideal trip! itโ€™s super fun to dream up possible vacations!! + look for a new podcast to listen to ๐ˆ๐๐’๐“๐„๐€๐ƒ ๐Ž๐… ๐’๐‚๐‘๐Ž๐‹๐‹๐ˆ๐๐† โœง
๐™Ž๐™˜๐™๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™—๐™š๐™˜๐™–๐™ช๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฉ ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™š ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™ฎ๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฉ! เป’๊’ฐเพ€เฝฒใฃห• -๏ฝก๊’ฑเพ€เฝฒเงง ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™ฎ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™›๐™–๐™˜๐™ฉ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™ข๐™ž๐™œ๐™๐™ฉ ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š ๐™ž๐™ฉ, ๐˜ผ๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ข๐™–๐™ก!. ๐™‰๐™ค๐™—๐™ค๐™™๐™ฎ ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™จ๐™ช๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™จ๐™š๐™™๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™—๐™š ๐™๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™›๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง ๐™—๐™š๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฅ๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™– ๐™จ๐™˜๐™๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™›๐™ช๐™ก๐™ก ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ข๐™š๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ค๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™š ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™–๐™˜๐™๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™ฌ๐™๐™ค ๐™ ๐™š๐™š๐™ฅ ๐™ฎ๐™š๐™ก๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™›๐™š๐™š๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™˜๐™ง๐™–๐™ฌ๐™ก๐™จ ๐™ช๐™ฅ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฌ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™๐™–๐™ซ๐™š ๐™จ๐™˜๐™๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ข๐™ค๐™ง๐™ง๐™ค๐™ฌ, ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™จ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ก๐™š ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฅ๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™– โ€œ๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ก๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข๐™š ๐™—๐™–๐™˜๐™  ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™จ๐™˜๐™๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก !โ€ ๐™จ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ก๐™š ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฎ๐™—๐™ค๐™™๐™ฎ! ๐˜ฝ๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ฌ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐˜ฟ๐™Š ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™š๐™™ ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™™๐™ค ๐™ž๐™ฉ ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง๐™จ๐™š๐™ก๐™›! ๐™‰๐™ค๐™—๐™ค๐™™๐™ฎ ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™œ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฃ๐™– ๐™จ๐™–๐™ซ๐™š ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™œ๐™ง๐™–๐™™๐™š๐™จ ๐™‰๐™Š๐˜ฝ๐™Š๐˜ฟ๐™” ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™œ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฃ๐™– ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ก๐™ก ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™ค๐™ ๐™–๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™๐™š๐™ก๐™ฅ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™œ๐™š๐™ฉ ๐™ช๐™ฅ ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™˜๐™ฉ ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง๐™จ๐™š๐™ก๐™›! ๐™๐™š๐™ข๐™ข๐™š๐™—๐™š๐™ง ๐™ฌ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™จ๐™˜๐™๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก? ๐™„๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™– ๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™–๐™˜๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™—๐™ช๐™ž๐™ก๐™™ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™›๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ง๐™š ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฉ ๐™œ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฃ๐™– ๐˜ฝ๐™ž๐™—๐™—๐™ž๐™™๐™ž-๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™—๐™—๐™ž๐™™๐™ž-๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™ค ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™– ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ก๐™ก๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™–๐™ง๐™š! ๐™๐™๐™–๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™ฌ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™ก๐™ž๐™จ๐™š ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™จ ๐™ค๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™˜๐™๐™–๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™š ๐™—๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™–๐™™ ๐™—๐™š๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข๐™š ๐™˜๐™–๐™ก๐™ข ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™›๐™ž๐™ญ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ค๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™—๐™š๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข๐™š ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™—๐™š๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™จ๐™š๐™ก๐™› ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™—๐™š๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข๐™š ๐™– ๐™ar๐™™๐™ฌ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ ๐™š๐™ง ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™จ๐™˜๐™๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™จ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ข๐™–๐™ฎ๐™—๐™š ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ ๐˜ฝ๐™ž๐™—๐™—๐™ž๐™™๐™ž-๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™—๐™—๐™ž๐™™๐™ž-๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™ค ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™– ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ก๐™ก๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™–๐™ง๐™š!!! ๐˜น๐˜ฐ๐˜น๐˜ฐ!, ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข ๐˜จ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜บ! หšสšโ™กษžหš เฌ˜(เฉญโ—ŒหŠแต•ห‹)เฉญ* เฉˆโ™กโ€งโ‚Šหš
เญจเญง ๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ป ๐“น๐“ป๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฝ๐”‚ ๐“ฐ๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ต๐“ผ เญจเญง ๐ˆ ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐ ๐ญ๐ข๐ฉ๐ฌ โ€” ๐ ๐ž๐ง๐ž๐ซ๐š๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ข๐ฉ๐ฌ ๐จ๐ง ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐š๐ฒ ๐Ÿƒ๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿญ. ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐˜† ๐—ฎ๐˜๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ป๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป ๐˜๐—ผ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฟ๐˜‚๐—ฐ๐˜๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฒ. ๐—ถ๐—ป๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ฑ๐˜‚๐—ฐ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป, ๐—บ๐—ฎ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐—ฏ๐—ผ๐—ฑ๐˜†, ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—น๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป, ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ณ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€. ๐—ฑ๐—ผ ๐—ก๐—ข๐—ง ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐˜ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—น๐˜‚๐—ฑ๐—ฒ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ณ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€ ๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฝ๐˜‚๐˜ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—บ ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐˜ ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—บ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป + ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—ฝ๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—น ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ. ๐—ฎ๐—น๐˜€๐—ผ, ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—น๐˜‚๐—ฑ๐—ฒ ๐—ถ๐—ป-๐˜๐—ฒ๐˜…๐˜ ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐˜๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป๐˜€ ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ป ๐˜„๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด. ๐Ÿฎ. ๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐—ธ ๐˜„๐—ถ๐˜๐—ต ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ/๐—ฝ๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ณ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ฒ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜† ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—พ๐˜‚๐—ถ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐˜๐˜€ ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐˜๐˜†๐—ฝ๐—ฒ ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ป๐˜ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—ถ๐˜๐˜€ ๐˜€๐—ถ๐˜‡๐—ฒ. ๐Ÿฏ. ๐—ฑ๐—ผ๐—ปโ€™๐˜ ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ณ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—ถ๐—ฑ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—บ๐˜€/๐—บ๐—ฎ๐—ฝ๐˜€/๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐˜๐˜€ ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ป ๐˜„๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ฎ๐˜†๐˜€, ๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜„๐—ฒ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ, ๐—ฑ๐—ผ๐—ปโ€™๐˜ ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐˜ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ณ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—บ (๐—ฏ๐—ผ๐˜๐—ต ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—บ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ณ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜€๐˜). ๐—ถ๐˜ ๐˜€๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜„๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฑ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐˜€๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ ๐˜„๐—ฒ๐—น๐—น, ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚โ€™๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ถ๐—ป๐˜ƒ๐—ผ๐—น๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฑ ๐˜„๐—ถ๐˜๐—ต ๐—ถ๐˜. ๐—ฐ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ผ๐˜„๐—ป ๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—บ ๐˜€๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜„๐˜€ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ถ๐—ป-๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฝ๐˜๐—ต ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฒ๐˜ƒ๐—ถ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ. ๐Ÿฐ. ๐—ฑ๐—ผ ๐—ก๐—ข๐—ง ๐—ฝ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐˜‡๐—ฒ. ๐˜๐—ต๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐˜† ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜€, ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—น๐˜† ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐˜ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐˜€๐—ถ๐˜๐˜† ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐˜€๐—ฒ. ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐˜† ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ฉ๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—ฌ ๐—น๐—ถ๐—ธ๐—ฒ๐—น๐˜† ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ป๐—ผ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ, ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ป ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚โ€™๐—น๐—น ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐—ฏ๐—ถ๐—ด ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฏ๐—น๐—ฒ. ๐Ÿฑ. ๐˜„๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฐ๐—ต ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜๐˜‚๐—ฏ๐—ฒ ๐˜ƒ๐—ถ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ผ๐˜€, ๐—ฑ๐—ผ๐—ฐ๐˜‚๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ฒ๐˜€, ๐—ฒ๐˜๐—ฐ. ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐˜๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐˜๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐—ถ๐—ฐ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐˜€๐—ธ๐—ฒ๐—ฑ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฒ๐˜ƒ๐—ฎ๐—น๐˜‚๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฒ ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ฎ๐˜†. ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐˜๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ธ๐—ป๐—ผ๐˜„๐—น๐—ฒ๐—ฑ๐—ด๐—ฒ ๐—ถ๐˜€, ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—บ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—น๐—ถ๐—ธ๐—ฒ๐—น๐˜† ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ฐ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—น ๐—ฒ๐˜ƒ๐—ฎ๐—น๐˜‚๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐˜ƒ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—ถ๐—ฑ ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ด๐˜‚๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐˜๐˜€. ๐Ÿฒ. ๐—ฑ๐—ผ๐—ปโ€™๐˜ ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐˜ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฒ๐˜ƒ๐—ฎ๐—น๐˜‚๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—น ๐˜€๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ฎ๐˜†. ๐—ฒ๐˜…๐—ฝ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐˜„๐—ต๐˜† ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ฑ ๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐˜„๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ธ ๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ด; ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—ป ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ ๐—ฑ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ฒ ๐—ฏ๐˜† ๐˜€๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ธ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ฎ๐—ฏ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฝ๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐˜‚๐—น๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ฑ, ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—บ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—น๐˜€, ๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜„ ๐—น๐—ถ๐—ธ๐—ฒ๐—น๐˜† ๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜‡๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐˜„๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—น๐—ฑ๐˜„๐—ถ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ ๐—ฝ๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐˜‚๐—น๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป, ๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜„ ๐˜„๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ณ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด๐˜€ ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐˜€๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฑ, ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ผ ๐˜„๐—ฎ๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ ๐˜„๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐˜๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ป ๐—ฏ๐˜† (๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ต ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฝ๐˜‚๐—ฏ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜€๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ/๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ), ๐—ฒ๐˜๐—ฐ. ๐Ÿณ. ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ถ๐—ฐ ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ด๐˜‚๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ฒ. ๐Ÿด. ๐—ฑ๐—ผ๐—ปโ€™๐˜ ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ป๐˜€๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜๐—น๐˜† ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ณ (๐—ฎ๐˜€ ๐—ถ๐—ป, ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐˜๐—ถ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ฎ๐—บ๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ป๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ/๐˜„๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ฑ ๐—ผ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—ผ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ฎ๐—ถ๐—ป). ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฒ๐˜…๐—ฎ๐—บ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜„๐—ถ๐—น๐—น ๐—ป๐—ผ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐˜„๐—ถ๐—น๐—น ๐—บ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ธ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—ฑ๐—ผ๐˜„๐—ป . ๐Ÿต. ๐—ข๐—ก๐—Ÿ๐—ฌ ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—š๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—ด๐—น๐—ฒ ๐—ฆ๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฟ, ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—ผ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ถ๐—ฐ ๐˜€๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐˜ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ณ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€/๐˜€๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€. ๐——๐—ผ ๐—ก๐—ข๐—ง ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—ฏ๐—น๐—ผ๐—ด๐˜€ ๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐—ช๐—ถ๐—ธ๐—ถ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ฎ. ๐Ÿญ๐Ÿฌ. ๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ผ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ฒ ๐—ฒ๐—น๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ-๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฑ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ฎ๐˜† ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐—ธ ๐—ถ๐˜ ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐˜๐˜†๐—ฝ๐—ผ๐˜€ ๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐—ผ๐—ฑ๐—ฑ ๐—ฝ๐—ต๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐˜€๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด๐˜€. ๐˜€๐—ผ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐˜๐—ถ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐˜€, ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ป ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—น๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—ธ ๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ฎ๐˜† ๐—ณ๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐˜๐—ผ๐—ผ ๐—น๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ถ๐˜ ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—น ๐˜€๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐˜๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—น๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—ธ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ฎ๐—บ๐—ฒ. ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฒ๐˜†๐—ฒ๐˜€ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—ฏ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐—ด๐—ฒ๐˜ ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ฑ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐˜† ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐—ฒ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด, ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ต ๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐˜„๐—ต๐˜† ๐—ถ๐˜ ๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐—ด๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—ฑ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฎ๐˜€๐—ธ ๐—ฎ ๐—ณ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฑ/๐—ณ๐—ฎ๐—บ๐—ถ๐—น๐˜† ๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—บ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฐ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐—ธ.
Today my school had a fire drill. I was standing outside with one of the most popular football players, when a Down Syndrome girl came up to him and wanted to hold his hand because she was scared. Happily, he held her hand in front of all his friends back to class. His soft side in front of his boys GMH May 16, 2010 at 12:00pm by Rachel, Griffith IN
โ €โ € โ €โ € ๐ซ๐ž๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ: :ยจ ยท.ยท ยจ: โ €โ € โ €โ € โ €โ € โ €โ € โ €โ € โ €โ € โ €โ € `ยท . ๊”ซ To all the people who had a rough day, week or month, remember to focus on what you can control, you are enough and you deserve all your desiresโ™ก
glow up schedule โœจ๐ŸŽ€๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿง–โ€โ™€๏ธ 2 weeks before: ๐Ÿ’— hair appt for highlights & cut ๐Ÿ’— do face masks 2-3x per week ๐Ÿ’— apply hair oil & mask before each wash ๐Ÿ’— implement my morning/ night routine 1 week before: ๐Ÿ’— fresh mani & pedi ๐Ÿ’— wardrobe refresh to clear out old clothes & invest in new pieces ๐Ÿ’— buy supplies ๐Ÿ’— reach out to friends + classmates to catch up & compare schedules ๐Ÿ’— practice daily makeup routine the night before: ๐Ÿ’— review all my first day schedule ๐Ÿ’— pack my bag ๐Ÿ’— pick out my outfit ๐Ÿ’— wash my hair & style for overnight curls ๐Ÿ’— relax & get excited!!!
morning routine as a teenage girl เผ‰โ€งโ‚Šหšโœง โŽฏโŽฏ เญจ เญง โŽฏโŽฏ เญจเญง . wake up at 6:30am. เญจเญง . drink some water! เญจเญง . go and feed my downstairs neighborโ€™s cat. โ™ก เญจเญง . brush my teeth. เญจเญง . do my skin care (cleanser , toner , serum , eye cream , moisturiser , sunscreen ) เญจเญง . make my mumโ€™s bed & my bed. เญจเญง . straighten up my room a bit! เญจเญง . do my makeup. เญจเญง . get dressed. เญจเญง . style my hair! เญจเญง . get backpack together. เญจเญง . deodorant , lotion , perfume. เญจเญง . out the door , time for school
WHISPERS @scarystoriesargh My best friend confided in me one day about one of her worries. She told me about how, in the middle of the night, she would keep hearing whispers in her bedroom. These whispers would repeat the same number over and over, but each night the number would become one lower. A few weeks later, on a Tuesday my friend told me that the numbers were getting lower and lower. It was due to be the number seven that night. My friend had no idea what those whispers were counting down to, but she told of how anxious she had been feeling ever since the whispers started several months ago. It's Wednesday today. My friend isn't in school. She didn't tell me that she was going to be absent. And then I realise. Last night, the voices would have been whispering the number Zero..
Pierwszy dzieล„ w szkole Autor: BradDracV ลนrรณdล‚o: First Day of School Tล‚umaczenie: Puck Norris Rosie szarpaล‚a zamkiem jej plecaka w kwiatki, czekajฤ…c na autobus, ktรณry miaล‚ jฤ… zabraฤ‡ do szkoล‚y. Stojฤ…cy za niฤ… rodzice byli rรณwnie nerwowi jak ona, prรณbowali jednak tego po sobie nie okazywaฤ‡. Chcieli, ลผeby pierwszy dzieล„ w szkole Rosie byล‚ dla niej nowym przeลผyciem peล‚nym ekscytacji, a nie obaw. Mogli jฤ… zaprowadziฤ‡ do szkoล‚y osobiล›cie, nie mieszkali od niej daleko, ale chcieli, ลผeby jej urocza cรณrka mogล‚a zawrzeฤ‡ nowe przyjaลบnie i poznaฤ‡ innych ludzi. Zresztฤ…, jasny, ลผรณล‚ty autobus zatrzymaล‚ siฤ™ przed ich domem jeszcze zanim zdฤ…ลผyli zmieniฤ‡ zdanie. Co dziwne, autobus byล‚ pusty. To tylko sprawiล‚o, ลผe niepokรณj rodziny jeszcze bardziej urรณsล‚. Po zbiorowym uล›cisku i wielu pocaล‚unkach wymienionych z mamฤ… i tatฤ…, Rosie wsiadล‚a do pojazdu i zajฤ™ล‚a miejsce z przodu. Pulchny kierowca pomachaล‚ jej rodzicom, praktycznie nie patrzฤ…c w ich kierunku. Drzwi zapiszczaล‚y i zamknฤ™ล‚y siฤ™ za ich maล‚ym skarbem. Mama uroniล‚a maล‚ฤ… ล‚zฤ™, obserwujฤ…c razem z tatฤ… jak autobus znika za zakrฤ™tem na koล„cu ulicy. "Bฤ™dzie siฤ™ dzisiaj ล›wietnie bawiล‚a." tata pocieszyล‚ mamฤ™ caล‚usem w czoล‚o. "Wiem" zgodziล‚a siฤ™ mama, nie brzmiฤ…c zbyt przekonywujฤ…co. "Idฤ™ wziฤ…ฤ‡ prysznic" powiedziaล‚a i skierowaล‚a siฤ™ do domu. Kiedy tylko tata wszedล‚ za niฤ… do ล›rodka, zaskoczony usล‚yszaล‚ gล‚oล›ne trฤ…bienie. Poczuล‚, ลผe ลผoล‚ฤ…dek podchodzi mu do gardล‚a, gdy tylko siฤ™ odwrรณciล‚ i zobaczyล‚ inny autobus, wypeล‚niony szczฤ™ล›liwymi uczniami i stojฤ…cy na jego podjeลบdzie. Szerokie drzwi rozwarล‚y siฤ™. "Dzieล„ dobry, panie Thomas" powiedziaล‚ starszy kierowca o miล‚ym uล›miechu kochajฤ…cej babci. "Czy Rosie jest gotowa na swรณj pierwszy dzieล„?"
A girl in my class is Autistic We were playing volleyball in P.E one day and she wanted to serve. Everyone cheered for her even though the ball barely rose above her head My classmates' kindness GMH. Jan 4, 2015 at 11:00am by Anonymous
Common Experiences How has the semester been going for you? Do you understand the assignment that Professor gave us in class? .. . .. What did you do over break? What sort of plans do you have for break? What did you do over the weekend? Anything interesting happen this week? How has work been? What did you think about the school team's last game? Do you know who's going to s party on day? Interests โ€ข What sort of movies have you seen lately? Have any goad boak recommendations? Have you been to any great concerts lately? Have you seen any good plays? What did you think about the ball game on day? Non-Question Topics Your surroundings: the weather, an interesting painting or decoration, a peculiar scenic detail Interesting or humorous Current events or news โ€ข officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family โ€ข Humorous story about something that happened earlier in the day or week CONVO.. Common Experiences How has the semester been going for you? Do you understand the assignment that Professor gave us in class? .. . .. What did you do over break? What sort of plans do you have for break? What did you do over the weekend? Anything interesting happen this week? How has work been? What did you think about the school team's last game? Do you know who's going to s party on day? Interests โ€ข What sort of movies have you seen lately? Have any goad book recommendations? Have you been to any great concerts lately? Have you seen any good plays? What did you think about the ball game on day? Non-Question Topics Your surroundings: the weather, an interesting painting or decoration, a peculiar scenic detail Interesting or humorous Current events or news โ€ข officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family โ€ข Humor about something that happened earier in the day or week
โ‹† หš๏ฝกโ‹†เญจเญงหš ๐‘€๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘–๐‘“๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ก หšเญจเญงโ‹†๏ฝกหš โ‹† daily affirmations ห™แต•ห™ โค๏ธŽ i wonโ€™t be so hard on myself โค๏ธŽ i belong here โค๏ธŽ i am worthy of what i desire โค๏ธŽ i love me always โค๏ธŽ happiness is in my hands
๐“๐“ฏ๐“ฏ๐“ฒ๐“ป๐“ถ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ผ เป’๊’ฐเพ€เฝฒใฃห• -๏ฝก๊’ฑเพ€เฝฒเงง โœฎ - Im truly true beauty! โœฎ - Everyone thinks im perfect, and I am! โœฎ- The compliments I get are endless! โœฎ - I attract postivity and can get people immediately attached to me! โœฎ - Im usually the one who starts trends! โœฎ - I have a skinny tall b0dy! *Please remember weight does NOT matter!! โœฎ - Everyone trips as soon as they see me! โœฎ - Im the quote โ€œbeauty and brawnsโ€ โœฎ - I have always had perfect grades! โœฎ - Im me and your you! โœฎ - they way everybody falls for me as soon as they see me is concerning! โœฎ - I know im better than all these people but I stay humble for their own sake! โœฎ - I have the perfect positve mindset! โœฎ - Im very beautifulโ€ฆ Its amazing! โœฎ - Everyone wants to be me or be with me! โœฎ - My energy enters before I even enter the room! โœฎ - My posture is perfect always! โœฎ - Youโ€™ll never catch me with bad posture! โœฎ - I donโ€™t care about my haters, their obsessed anyways! โœฎ - My life revoles around me only! *หขหกแตƒสธ แต—สฐแต‰ แตˆแตƒสธ แตƒโฟแตˆ แตแต‰แต— หขแต’แตแต‰ แต‡แต‰แตƒแต˜แต—สธ หขหกแต‰แต‰แต– แต‡สธแต‰โ™ฅ
A: ศบ ะ” โˆ† โ‚ณแŽฏ แŽช B: โ„ฌ แฐ ไนƒ ุท ัŠ C: ๅŒš เฝ„ แฃ D: ฦŒ แŽ  แŽด โ…… โ…† E: ฮต เฝ‡ ฮฃ ฮž แŽฌ แ‹ โ…‡ F: เฝ“ ฦ’ G: แฉ ๐ ‚Ž ษ  ส› แŽถ แณ H: ฤง โ„Œ แŽป แ‚ แฒ I: เผ เผ‘ เผ โ…ˆ แ J: ๐ ƒŒ แŽซ แ  โ„‘ โ…‰ K: ฦ™ L: โ„’ แž ษญ แ โ„“ M: เฝ€ แŽท แ™ข โ„ณ N: โ‚ช ืช ืž ื” เฝฆ ฯ€ โ„ต O: แŽพ P: ฯ ใ‚„ ๅฐธ แŽต Q: แŽค R: เชฐ โ„œ เฝž เผ‰ แŽก S: แŽฆ T: ฯ„ แ† ฯฏ ื“ แŽฟ ีฅ แŽข U: แŒ V: แŽง แค W: แ” แ™ก แŠ ืฉ เฝก ัˆ ั‰ ฯฃ แ‡ X: โ„ต ื ะถ Y: ืข ั‡ ษค ษฃ แŽฝ Z: ี€ ส‘ แƒ โ„ค
school ๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€๐Ÿ’ผโœ๏ธ๐Ÿ“ˆ๐Ÿง ๐ŸŽ€ โฅ folder (one per class) โฅ planner โฅ lined paper โฅ pencil pouch (contains mechanical pencils, pens, & eraser) โฅ laptop & charger โฅ earbuds โฅ snacks โฅ 32 oz water bottle โฅ advil โฅ feminine products โฅ lip gloss โฅ wallet โฅ a book โฅ travel size body spray
Weekly Affirmations โ™ก Iโ€™m confident that there is a bright future ahead of me. โ™ก I have everything I need to succeed. โ™ก I am capable of reaching my goals. โ™ก I will let go of the things that are not serving me. โ™ก I am deserving of happiness. โ™ก I attract success and prosperity with all my ideas. โ™ก Wealth is pouring into my life. โ™ก my possibilities are endless. โ™ก My future ahead is bright and I am ready to grow.
๐’ƒ๐’š โ€œ๐‘พ๐’๐’๐’š๐’๐’–๐’๐’ˆ๐’Š๐’”๐’Žโ€! เป’๊’ฐเพ€เฝฒใฃห• -๏ฝก๊’ฑเพ€เฝฒเงง ๏ผณ๏ฝ”๏ฝ•๏ฝ„๏ฝ™ ๏ฝ”๏ฝ‰๏ฝ๏ฝ“ ๏ฝ†๏ฝ’๏ฝ๏ฝ ๏ฝ“๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ…๏ฝ๏ฝŽ๏ฝ… ๏ฝ—๏ฝˆ๏ฝ: ๏ฝ‡๏ฝ…๏ฝ”๏ฝ“ ๏ฝˆ๏ฝ‰๏ฝ‡๏ฝˆ ๏ฝ‡๏ฝ’๏ฝ๏ฝ„๏ฝ…๏ฝ“ ๏ฝ๏ฝŽ๏ฝ„ ๏ฝ‰๏ฝ“ ๏ฝ ๏ฝ”๏ฝ…๏ฝ๏ฝƒ๏ฝˆs ๏ฝ†๏ฝ๏ฝ–๏ผ: ๊œฐษชส€๊œฑแด› ษดแด แด…ษช๊œฑแด›ส€แด€แด„แด›ษชแดษด๊œฑ!: แดแด€แด‹แด‡ ๊œฑแดœส€แด‡ สแดแดœส€ แด˜สœแดษดแด‡ ษช๊œฑ แด„สŸแด๊œฑแด‡แด… แด€ษดแด… สŸแดแด„แด‹แด‡แด… แด€แดกแด€ส! แดกสœแด€แด› ษช แด…แด ษช๊œฑ แด˜แดœแด› แดส แด˜สœแดษดแด‡ แดส€ แดกสœแด€แด›แด‡แด แด‡ส€ แด…แด‡แด ษชแด„แด‡ สแดแดœ แดœ๊œฑแด‡ ษชษด แด€ ๊œฐแด€ส€ แด…ส€แด€แดกแด‡ส€ แด›สœแด€แด› สแดแดœ แด˜ส€แดส™ แดกแดษดแด› สœแด€แด แด‡ แด‡ษดแดแดœษขสœ แดแดแด›ษชแด แด€แด›ษชแดษด แด›แด ษขแด ษขแด‡แด› ษชแด›! แด€ษดแดแด›สœแด‡ส€ แดกแด€ส ษช๊œฑ แด„สŸแด๊œฑษชษดษข แด›สœแด‡ ษดแดแด›๊œฐษชแด„แด€แด›ษชแดษด๊œฑ! (แด€ษดแด… ษช๊œฑ สแดแดœ แด„แด€ษด/แดกแด€ษดแด› แด…แด‡สŸแด‡แด›ษชษดษข ๊œฑแดแด„ษชแด€สŸ แดแด‡แด…ษชแด€ แด€แด˜แด˜๊œฑ!), ๊œฑแด‡แด„แดษดแด…: ๊œฐแดส€แด„แด‡ สแดแดœส€๊œฑแด‡สŸ๊œฐ๊œฐ๊œฐ๊œฐ๊œฐ!!!! แดแดแด›ษชแด แด€แด›ษชแดษด๊œฑ ษช๊œฑ ษดแดแด› ษขแดษดษดแด€ สŸแด€๊œฑแด› สŸแดษดษข สแดแดœ สœแด€แด แด‡ แด›แด ๊œฐแดส€แด„แด‡ สแดแดœส€๊œฑแด‡สŸ๊œฐ! ษชแด›๊œฑ ๊œฑแด‡สŸ๊œฐ แด…ษช๊œฑแด˜สŸษชษดแด‡! ๊œฑแด€ส แด›แด สแดแดœส€๊œฑแด‡สŸ๊œฐ โ€œษช๊œฐ สแดแดœ แด‹แด‡แด‡แด˜ แด›สœษช๊œฑ แดœแด˜ ส/ษด สแดแดœส€ ษขแดษดษดแด€ ษขแด‡แด› ษขส€แด€แด…แด‡๊œฑ, ษดแด แด€แด„แด€แด…แด‡แดษชแด„ แด แด€ษชสŸแด…แด€แด›ษชแดษด, แด€ ษขแดแดแด… แดสŸโ€™ ๊œฑสŸแด€แด˜, แดŠแดส™, แด€ษดแด… สœแด€แด แด‡ แด›แด ส€แด‡แด…แด แด›สœแด‡ สแด‡แด€ส€ แดแด‡แด€ษดแดกสœษชสŸแด‡ แด€สŸสŸ สแดแดœส€ ๊œฐส€ษชแด‡ษดแด…๊œฑ แด€ส€แด‡ แด˜ส€แดส™ ษขแดษดษดแด€ แดแดแด แด‡ แดษด แด›แด แด›สœแด‡ ษดแด‡xแด›!โ€ แด›สœษช๊œฑ แดษดแด‡ ษช๊œฑ แดกสœแด€แด› ส€แด‡แด€สŸสŸส แด‹แด‡แด‡แด˜๊œฑ แดแด‡ ษขแดษชษดษข สŸแดสŸ! โ‚Šหšสš แ—ขโ‚Šหšโœง ๏พŸ. แด›สœษชส€แด…!: แด‹แด‡แด‡แด˜ษชษดษข แดส€ษขแด€ษชษด๊œฑแด‡แด… ษช๊œฑ ส€แด‡แด€สŸสŸส สœแด€ส€แด…! แด‡แด แด‡ษด ๊œฐแดส€ แดแด‡ ๊œฑแด€แด…สŸส:( ส™แดœแด›! แดษดแด‡ แด๊œฐ แดส ษชษด๊œฑแด˜แด๊œฑ ษช๊œฑ แด˜ษชษดแด›แด‡ส€แด‡๊œฑแด› ษดแดแด›แด‡๊œฑ! ษช สŸษชแด‹แด‡ แด›แด แด…แด แด›สœษช๊œฑ แด›สแด˜แด‡ แด๊œฐ ษดแดแด›ษชษดษข! ษชแด›๊œฑ ส€แด‡แด€สŸสŸส ๊œฑษชแดแด˜สŸแด‡ ส™แดœแด› สแด‡แด› สœแด‡สŸแด˜๊œฑ แดแด‡ แด€สŸแดแด› แดกษชแด›สœ สŸแด‡๊œฑ๊œฑแดษด๊œฑ ษช แด…แด ษดแดแด› แดœษดแด…แด‡ส€๊œฑแด›แด€ษดแด…! ษชแด›๊œฑ แด„แด€สŸสŸแด‡แด… แด„แดส€ษดแด‡สŸสŸ ษดแดแด›แด‡๊œฑ! แด˜สŸแดœ๊œฑ แด›สœษช๊œฑ ษช๊œฑ ส€แด‡แด€สŸสŸส ส€แด‡แด€สŸสŸส ษชแดแด˜แดส€แด›แด€ษดแด›!: แด›แด€แด‹ษชษดษข ษดแดแด›แด‡๊œฑ แดกสœษชสŸแด‡ ษชษด แด„สŸแด€๊œฑ๊œฑ! ษดแดแด› สŸษชแด‹แด‡ ๊œฐแดœสŸสŸ แดษด ษดแดแด›แด‡๊œฑ แดŠแดœ๊œฑแด› ส€แด‡แดษชษดแด…แด‡ส€๊œฑ! (แด‡x: โ€œแด€๊œฑ ๊œฑแดแดษด แด€๊œฑ ษช ษขแด‡แด› สœแดแดแด‡ ษช แดกษชสŸสŸ ๊œฐษชษดษช๊œฑสœ แด›สœแด‡ ส™ษชแดสŸแดษขส แด€๊œฑ๊œฑษชษขษดแดแด‡ษดแด›โ€, โ€œษชษด 2:50แด˜แด ษช แดกษชสŸสŸ ๊œฑแดœแดส™ษชแด› แด›สœแด‡ แดแด€แด›สœ แด€๊œฑ๊œฑษชษขษดแดแด‡ษดแด›โ€) แดœ๊œฑแด‡ สŸษชแด›แด›สŸแด‡ ๊œฑแดแด€สŸสŸ แด„แดสŸแดส€แด‡แด… ษดแดแด›แด‡๊œฑ แด€ษดแด… ๊œฑแด›ษชแด„แด‹ แด›แด แด›สœแด‡แด แดษด แด€ษดสแด›สœษชษดษข! สŸษชแด‹แด‡ สแดแดœส€ แด„สœส€แดแดแด‡ สŸแด€แด˜! แดส€ สแดแดœส€ ๊œฐแด€แด  แดœ๊œฑแดœแด€สŸ ษดแดแด›แด‡ส™แดแดแด‹ สแดแดœ แดœ๊œฑแด‡ แดส€ ๊œฑแดแดแด‡แด›สœษชษดษข, แด›สœษช๊œฑ ส€แด‡แด€สŸสŸส สœแด‡สŸแด˜แด‡แด… แดแด‡ ๊œฑแด›แด€ส ษชษด แด›ษชแดแด‡ แด€ษดแด… สœแด€แด แด‡ แด€ ๊œฑแด„สœแด‡แด…แดœสŸแด‡! (แด€ษดแด… ษช๊œฐ สแดแดœ สœแด€แด แด‡ แด€ แดแด‡๊œฑ๊œฑส แด˜สŸแด€แด„แด‡, แด˜สŸแด‡แด€๊œฑแด‡ ส€แด‡แดษชษดแด… สแดแดœส€๊œฑแด‡สŸ๊œฐ แด‡แด แด‡ส€ส ๊œฑษชษดษขสŸแด‡ แด›ษชแดแด‡ แด„สŸแด‡แด€ษด แดœแด˜!, แด›ษชแด…ส แดœแด˜! แด€ษดแด… ๊œฑแด›แดœ๊œฐ๊œฐ สŸษชแด‹แด‡ แด›สœแด€แด›, โ€œแด€ แด„สŸแด‡แด€ษด ส€แดแดแด = แด€ แด„สŸแด‡แด€ษด แดษชษดแด…โ€ แด›สœษช๊œฑ ษช๊œฑ แด€แด„แด›แดœแด€สŸสŸส แด แด‡ส€ส แด›ส€แดœแด‡! แด€ษดแด… แด„แด€ษด แด€๊œฐ๊œฐแด‡แด„แด› สแดแดœส€ แดแด‡ษดแด›แด€สŸ สœแด‡แด€สŸแด›สœ! แดกสœแด‡ษด สแดแดœ สœแด€แด แด‡ แด€ แดแด‡๊œฑ๊œฑส ส€แดแดแด แด›สœแด‡ษด สแดแดœส€ ษขแดษดษดแด€ สœแด€แด แด‡ แด€ แดแด‡๊œฑ๊œฑส แดษชษดแด… แดกสœษชแด„สœ ษช๊œฑ ษดแดแด› ษขแดษดษดแด€ สœแด‡สŸแด˜ ๊œฑแด›แดœแด…สษชษดษข! แดสœ แด€ษดแด… สŸแดแดแด‹ แดœแด˜ แด˜ษชษดแด›แด‡ส€แด‡๊œฑแด› ๊œฑแด›แดœแด…ส Qแดœแดแด›แด‡๊œฑ แด›สœแด‡ส สœแด‡สŸแด˜ แดแด‡ แด€สŸแดแด› ๊œฑแด›แด€ส ๊œฐแดแด„แดœ๊œฑแด‡แด…!) เฌ˜(เฉญโ—ŒหŠแต•ห‹)เฉญ* เฉˆโ™กโ€งโ‚Šหš แด›สœษช๊œฑ ษช๊œฑ แด€สŸสŸ แด›สœแด‡ แด›ษชแด˜๊œฑ ษช แด„แดแดœสŸแด… แด›สœษชษดแด‹ แด๊œฐ ส€ษชษขสœแด› ษดแดแดก!, ษช๊œฐ แด›สœแด‡ส€แด‡๊œฑ แดแดส€แด‡ ษช'สŸสŸ แด›แด‡สŸสŸ สแด€สŸสŸ สŸแด€แด›แด‡ส€ ส™สแด‡!! <3 เฉˆโœฉโ€งโ‚Šหšเผบโ˜†เผปเฉˆโœฉโ€งโ‚Šหš
โ—Œ ๐ŸŒŸ โ €ื…โ €โ €ืโ € New week โ€” start fresh โ—Œ ๐Ÿ’ญ โ €ื…โ €โ €ืโ € New mindset โ€” think positively โ—Œ ๐ŸŒธ โ €ื…โ €โ €ืโ € New opportunities โ€” be grateful โ—Œ ๐Ÿซง โ €ื…โ €โ €ืโ € New possibilities โ€” be optimistic โ—Œ ๐Ÿฉฐ โ €ื…โ €โ €ืโ € New attitude โ€” be kind, be loving
๐‘€๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘‘๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ ๐ฝ๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘Ÿ๐‘›๐‘Ž๐‘™ ๐‘ƒ๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘š๐‘๐‘ก๐‘  what are 3 things i want to accomplish this week? what are 3 ways i can improve from last week? what can i let go of this week? what drained my energy last week? how can i prevent that from happening this week? list 3 things iโ€™m grateful for my affirmation for this week is?
แดฌแต›แตƒ แถ แต‰แต›แต‰สณ โฝแต‡โฑแต หขสฐแต’แต—โพ แต‡แต˜แต— แถ สณแต’แต แดฌแต›แตƒ แต–แต’แต› โฑโฟ แต‰แต›แต‰โฟแต—หข โฝแดฌหกหขแต’ แตโฑแต›โฑโฟแต หขแต’แตแต‰ แต˜โฟโฟแตƒแตแต‰แตˆ แต›แต’หกหกแต‰สธแต‡แตƒหกหก แต–หกแตƒสธแต‰สณหข หขแต’แตแต‰ โฟแตƒแตแต‰หข แต‡แต‰แถœแตƒแต˜หขแต‰ แดต แตˆแต’โฟ'แต— แตโฟแต’สท; แดต'แต โฟแตƒแตโฑโฟแต แต—สฐแต‰ แต‡หกแต’โฟแตˆโฑแต‰ แตโฑสณหก โฑโฟ แต—สฐแต‰ แต‡สณแตƒโฑแตˆ แดฑแต›โฑแต‰ สทสฐแต’แต แดฌแต›แตƒ แตแตƒแต›แต‰ แตƒ แต‡หกแต’แต’แตˆสธ โฟแต’หขแต‰ แต—แต’โธด แตƒโฟแตˆ แดต'หกหก แถœแตƒหกหก แดฌแต›แตƒ'หข แต—แต‰แตƒแตแตแตƒแต—แต‰ แดบแตƒแต—แตƒหกโฑแต‰โพ แดต หกโฑแตแต‰ หขแต–แต’สณแต—หขโธด แตƒโฟแตˆ แดต'แต แตแต’หขแต—หกสธ โฑโฟแต›แต’หกแต›แต‰แตˆ โฑโฟ แต›แต’หกหกแต‰สธแต‡แตƒหกหกโ€ง แดนสธ โฟแตƒแตแต‰ โฑหข แดฌแต›แตƒ แดบแตƒแต›แตƒสณสณแต’ แตƒโฟแตˆ แดต'แต แต–หกแตƒสธโฑโฟแต สทโฑแต—สฐ แดบแตƒแต—แตƒหกโฑแต‰ แตƒแตแตƒโฑโฟหขแต— แดฑแต›โฑแต‰โ€ง แ”†แต’แตแต‰ แตแต˜สธ โฑโฟ แต—สฐแต‰ หขแต—แตƒโฟแตˆหข แถœแตƒหกหกแต‰แตˆ หขแต’แตแต‰ แตโฑสณหกหข แต’แต›แต‰สณโธด แต‡แต˜แต— แดต แถ แต’แถœแต˜หข แต’โฟ แต—สฐแต‰ แตแตƒแตแต‰โ€ง แดต สณแต˜โฟ แต˜แต– แต—แต’ แต—สฐแต‰ แต‡แตƒหกหก แต—แต’ สฐโฑแต— โฑแต— แตˆแต’สทโฟ แต’โฟ แดฑแต›โฑแต‰โ€ง แต€สฐแต‰สณแต‰'หข แตƒโฟ แตƒแต˜แตˆโฑแต‡หกแต‰ แตแตƒหขแต–โธด แตƒโฟแตˆ แตƒ แตโฑสณหก หขแตƒโฑแตˆ 'สฐแต‰สณ แถ แตƒแถœแต‰ โฑหข แตแต’โฟโฟแตƒ แต‡แต‰ แต‡แต˜หขแต—แต‰แตˆ' แตƒหข แดต หขแตƒสท สฐแต‰สณ โฟแต’หขแต‰ แต‡หกแต‰แต‰แตˆโ€ง แต€สฐแต‰ แตแต’แตแต‰โฟแต— แต‰โฟแตˆแต‰แตˆ สทสฐแต‰โฟ แต—สฐแต‰ สณแต‰แถ  แต‡หกแต‰สท แต—สฐแต‰ สทสฐโฑหขแต—หกแต‰โ€ง 'แต‚สฐแตƒแต—? แดฌสณแต‰ สธแต’แต˜ แตโฑแตˆแตˆโฑโฟแต? แดตแต— สทแตƒหข แถœหกแต‰แตƒโฟ!' แต€สฐแต‰ สณแต‰แถ  แต—แต˜สณโฟแต‰แตˆ แต‡แต˜แต— แดต สทแตƒหขโฟ'แต— แตˆแต’โฟแต‰ สธแต‰แต—โ€ง 'แดดแต‰สธ; แดต'แต แต—แตƒหกแตโฑโฟแต แต—แต’ สธแต’แต˜!' 'สธแต’แต˜ แต—แต’แต˜แถœสฐ แตสธ แถœสฐแตƒโฑสณ แตƒแตแตƒโฑโฟ แดบแตƒแต›แตƒสณสณแต’ แตƒโฟแตˆ สธแต’แต˜ แตƒสณแต‰ แตแต’โฟแต‰!' แ”†แต’ แดต แตสณแตƒแต‡แต‡แต‰แตˆ หขแต’แตแต‰ หขแตƒโฟแตˆ แตƒโฟแตˆ แต—สฐสณแต‰สท โฑแต— แตƒแต— สฐโฑแตโธด แต’โฟแถœแต‰ แตƒแตแตƒโฑโฟ แตแตƒแตโฑโฟแต แต—สฐแต‰ หขแต–แต‰แถœแต—แตƒแต—แต’สณหข แตแตƒหขแต–โ€ง 'แดต แตƒแต แตˆแต’โฟแต‰!' แดต หขแตƒโฑแตˆโธด สทแตƒหกแตโฑโฟแต แตƒสทแตƒสธโ€ง แดบแตƒแต—แตƒหกโฑแต‰'หข แตโฑแต›โฑโฟแต แตแต‰ แต—สฐแต‰ แถœแต’หกแตˆ หขสฐแต’แต˜หกแตˆแต‰สณโ€ง แต€สฐแต‰ แต›แต’หกหกแต‰สธแต‡แตƒหกหก แต–หกแตƒสธแต‰สณหข หขแต‰แต‰แต แต—แต’ แถ แต’สณแตแต‰แต— แตสธ แต‰หฃโฑหขแต—แต‰โฟแถœแต‰โธด แต‡แต˜แต— แตสธ แตแต’แต หขแต–แต’แตแต‰ แต—แต’ แตƒ แถœแต’แตƒแถœสฐ แตƒแต— แตƒโฟ แตƒหกหก แตโฑสณหกหข หขแถœสฐแต’แต’หกโ€ง แดดแต‰ สทแตƒหข แต—สฐแต‰ แตแต˜สธ โฑโฟ แต—สฐแต‰ หขแต—แตƒโฟแตˆหข สทแตƒแต—แถœสฐโฑโฟแต แตƒโฟแตˆ สฐแต‰ แตแต˜หขแต—'แต›แต‰ แต—สฐแต’แต˜แตสฐแต— แดต'แตˆ แต‡แต‰ แตƒ แตแต’แต’แตˆ แถ โฑแต—โ€ง แดบแต’สท แดต'แต›แต‰ แต‡แต‰แต‰โฟ สณแต‰แถœสณแต˜โฑแต—แต‰แตˆ แต—แต’ แต‚แต‰หขแต—แต‡สณแต’แต’แต แต–หกแตƒสธโฑโฟแต แต’โฟ แต—สฐแต‰โฑสณ แต‡แตƒหขแตแต‰แต—แต‡แตƒหกหก แต—แต‰แตƒแตโ€ง
แดณสณแต’สท แตแต– โฝแ”†แต–แต’โฟแตแต‰แต‡แต’แต‡ แต–สณแต‰แ‘ซแต˜แต‰หก แถ แตƒโฟแถ โฑแถœโพ "แต‚สฐแตƒแต— แตˆแต’ สธแต’แต˜ สทแตƒโฟโฟแตƒ แต‡แต‰ สทสฐแต‰โฟแถœแต‰ สธแต’แต˜ แตสณแต’สท แต˜แต–?" แต€สฐแต‰ แต—แต‰แตƒแถœสฐแต‰สณ แตƒหขแตแต‰แตˆโ€ง "แดฌโฟสธแต—สฐโฑโฟแต สทโฑแต—สฐ แตแต’โฟแต‰สธ!" แดฑแต˜แตแต‰โฟแต‰ แต‡หกแต˜สณแต—แต‰แตˆโ€ง "แดฌ แต—แต‰แตƒแถœสฐแต‰สณโ€งโ€งโ€ง" "แดนหขโ€ง แดพแต˜แถ แถ  แดต แตแต˜แตƒสณแตƒโฟแต—แต‰แต‰ สธแต’แต˜ แตˆแต’ โฟแต’แต—โ€งโ€งโ€ง" แดนหขโ€ง แดพแต˜แถ แถ  สทแตƒหข โฑโฟแต—แต‰สณสณแต˜แต–แต—แต‰แตˆ แต‡สธ แต—สฐแต‰ แต—แต‰แตƒแถœสฐแต‰สณโ€ง "แดต'แตˆ หกโฑแตแต‰ แต—แต’ แต‡แต‰ แตƒ หขแถœโฑแต‰โฟแต—โฑหขแต—!" "แดต สทโฑหขสฐ แต—แต’ แต‡แต‰ แตƒโฟ แตƒหขแต—สณแต’โฟแตƒแต˜แต—!" "แดต'แตˆ หกแต’แต›แต‰ แต—แต’ แต‡แต‰ แตƒ แต–แตƒสณแต‰โฟแต—!" "แต‚แต‰หกหก สฐแต’แต–แต‰ สธแต’แต˜ แตƒแถœสฐโฑแต‰แต›แต‰ สธแต’แต˜สณ แตˆสณแต‰แตƒแตหข แถœแต’แตแต‰ แต—สณแต˜แต‰โธด แถœสฐโฑหกแตˆสณแต‰โฟโ€งโ€งโ€ง" @ALYJACI
Friday, October 26, 2007 balance you see the spirit of architecture is an inspiration for everybody, involved in the building process to be creative! Antonia at 10:13โ€ฏPM
แ‚แŽฅ!, ๐‰๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐˜„๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฑ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐’ƒ๐’†๐’‚๐’–๐’•๐’Š๐’‡๐’–๐’ ๐’•๐’๐’…๐’‚๐’š!!
๐“œ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ญ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐ŸŒท I honestly dont care about what others think of me, my life revolves around me, ๐’‚๐’๐’… ๐’๐’๐’๐’š ๐’Ž๐’† หš เผ˜ เณ€โ‹†๏ฝกหš๐“ขึดเป‹๐ŸŒทอ™ึ’
------------------------------------------------------------ ๐‘ฉ๐’†๐’๐’๐’‚ ๐‘ฏ๐’‚๐’…๐’Š๐’… โ€œ๐‘ฐ ๐’‹๐’–๐’”๐’• ๐’‚๐’”๐’‘๐’Š๐’“๐’† ๐’•๐’ ๐’ƒ๐’† ๐’•๐’‰๐’† ๐’ƒ๐’†๐’”๐’• ๐‘ฐ ๐’„๐’‚๐’ ๐’ƒ๐’†. ๐‘ฐ ๐’˜๐’‚๐’๐’• ๐’•๐’ ๐’˜๐’๐’“๐’Œ ๐’‰๐’‚๐’“๐’… ๐’‚๐’๐’… ๐’”๐’†๐’• ๐’๐’๐’† ๐’ˆ๐’๐’‚๐’ ๐’‚๐’• ๐’‚ ๐’•๐’Š๐’Ž๐’† ๐’‡๐’๐’“ ๐’Ž๐’š๐’”๐’†๐’๐’‡. โ€œ ------------------------------------------------------------
daily affirmations ห™แต•ห™ โค๏ธŽ i wonโ€™t be so hard on myself โค๏ธŽ i belong here โค๏ธŽ i am worthy of what i desire โค๏ธŽ i love me always โค๏ธŽ happiness is in my hands
23 March 2009 Weird Science Words Science Dictionary Here are some weird science words. Be careful how you use them. Auscultationโ€”Listening. Especially listening to the sounds of the internal organs, as with a stethoscope. Borborygmus, pl. borborygmiโ€”Rumbling and gurgling noises from hunger. Stomach "growling". Bromhidrosisโ€”Body odor, B.O. From the Greek bromos, a stench, and hidros, sweat. Cacophonyโ€”Jarring, discordant sound. Cacophonous: having a harsh, discordant sound. From the Greek kakophnos, kakos, bad+ phลnฤ“, sound. Kakos goes back to one of the oldest words we still use, the Indo-European root kakka-, to defecate. Cacodylโ€”The arsenic group (CH3)2As, or a poisonous oil (As2(CH3)4) with a strong garlicky odor. Same root as cacophony. Emesis, pl. emesesโ€”The act of coughing up Eructationโ€” burbing Flatusโ€”The gas that comprises Formicationโ€”A sensation that feels like insects crawling on the skin, a type of paresthesia. From formica, Latin for "ant". Googolโ€”The number 10 raised to the power 100 (10100), written out as the numeral 1 followed by 100 zeros. Not to be confused with "Google", a trademark of Google Inc. Masticationโ€”chewing Micturationโ€”Potty Osculantโ€”Intermediate in characteristics between two similar or related taxonomic groups. Closely adhering or joined; embracing Osculationโ€”Kissing; a kiss Oscitancyโ€”the act of yawning Pandiculationโ€”The act of stretching and yawning at the same time. Radicleโ€”A small root, specifically the part of a plant embryo that develops into the root. Not to be confused with "radical", meaning the root (e.g. of a word), at the root, the mathematical root sign (โˆš) or a highly reactive atom, molecule or person. Nor with "ridicule". Sternutationโ€”Sneezing Stertorโ€”The sound of snoring Syzygyโ€”Lots of meanings in different sciences (and in poetry, rhetoric etc.) generally having something to do with being paired, joined, aligned or something. From the Greek zugon, yoke Wambleโ€”To turn or roll (said of the stomach), an upset stomach, nausea
positivity ๊”› ๐ŸŒธ you can do great things ๐Ÿซง you are important ๐ŸŒธ you are amazing ๐Ÿซง you deserve happiness ๐ŸŒธ the best is yet to come ๐Ÿซง you deserve flowers
๏ธถ๏ธถ๏ธถ ๊”ซ โ €๏ธถ๏ธถ๏ธถ ๐‘Ÿ๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘’ ๐‘Ÿ๐‘’๐‘™๐‘–๐‘”๐‘–๐‘’๐‘ข๐‘ ๐‘’ โ™ก iโ€™m the embodiment of a rose religieuse from la ladurรฉe, delicate and sweet โ™ก i often wear empire waist dresses in pastel colors, adorned with lace and velvet ribbons โ™ก whenever i walk by, i leave behind me the scent of sweet things, like warm vanilla, cotton candy and pink cakes โ™ก iโ€™m the sweet, quiet girl who can be found in the library, immersed in a book, calmly sipping on a vanilla latte, killing time before ballet class โ™ก i have beautiful, neat handwriting and excellent calligraphy skills โ™ก iโ€™m quiet, elegant, intelligent and speak eloquently
๐ŸคŽ๐Ÿ‚๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‚๐ŸคŽ
เญจเงŽโ‹†.หšโ€ชโ€ชโค๏ธŽโ€ฌโ€Žโญ’ fun things you can manifest โญ’ ๐š๐›๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฆ๐ž๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ข๐ฌ๐ž ๐š๐ง๐ฒ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ข๐ง ๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ง ๐Ÿ๐ข๐ฏ๐ž ๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐ฎ๐ญ๐ž๐ฌ! โญ’ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฉ๐ž๐ซ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ (๐ž.๐ . ๐ญ๐ž๐ฅ๐ž๐ฉ๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง, ๐ญ๐ž๐ฅ๐ž๐ค๐ข๐ง๐ž๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌ, ๐œ๐ฅ๐š๐ข๐ซ๐ฏ๐จ๐ฒ๐š๐ง๐œ๐ž ๐ž๐ญ๐œ.) โญ’ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ฆ ๐ฌ๐œ๐ก๐จ๐จ๐ฅ ๐œ๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ญ๐ž๐ ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ฌ๐œ๐ซ๐š๐ญ๐œ๐ก! โญ’ ๐ ๐จ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐›๐š๐œ๐ค ๐ญ๐จ ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ž๐ฑ๐ฉ๐ž๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ง๐œ๐ž ๐ฒ๐Ÿ๐ค! โญ’ ๐ฉ๐ก๐จ๐ง๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ง๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ง๐ฌ ๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐›๐š๐ญ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐ฒ! โญ’ ๐š ๐ญ๐ข๐ฆ๐ž ๐ญ๐ซ๐š๐ฏ๐ž๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐š๐œ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ž ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐จ๐ง๐ž๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฏ๐ข๐ž๐ฌ! โญ’ ๐š ๐ฆ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐Ÿ๐š๐ฏ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ž ๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ฉ๐ฌ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ซ๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ๐š๐ฎ๐ซ๐š๐ง๐ญ๐ฌ! โญ’ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐š๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ฌ ๐ ๐ž๐ญ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ž๐ญ๐ž๐ ๐š๐ฎ๐ญ๐จ๐ฆ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐œ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ก๐š๐ฏ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ญ๐จ ๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ง ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ญ ๐š ๐Ÿ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ž๐ซ! โญ’ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ณ๐š๐ซ๐ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐ฐ๐ข๐ณ๐š๐ซ๐๐ฌ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ฐ๐š๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐š๐œ๐ž! โญ’ ๐š๐›๐ฌ๐จ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ž ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐œ๐ž, ๐š๐ฅ๐œ๐จ๐ก๐จ๐ฅ & ๐ฉ๐š๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐จ๐ฅ๐ž๐ซ๐š๐ง๐œ๐ž! โญ’ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ข๐๐ž๐š๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐จ๐œ๐ข๐š๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐ž๐๐ข๐š ๐š๐ฉ๐ฉ! โญ’ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐š๐ซ ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๐ง๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐š๐ฅ ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ง๐ ๐ ๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฉ! โญ’ ๐š ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฏ๐ข๐ž ๐จ๐ซ ๐๐ซ๐š๐ฆ๐š ๐ฌ๐ž๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ฌ ๐›๐š๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐จ๐ง ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐ž๐ฌ๐ข๐ซ๐ž๐ ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐จ๐ญ!
https://onlinetyping.org/10-key-typing-test/10-key.php
givesmehope: I met a 16 year old genius who was in medical school, studying to be a pediatric neurosurgeon. He put every dollar he made at his job into a retirement fund. Why? He wanted to be able to retire at age 30, so that he could spend the rest of his life performing brain surgeries for free. His philanthropy GMH. Mar 5 2010
๐Ÿฆ•๐Ÿซ๐Ÿช๐Ÿซ๐Ÿฆ–
๐Ÿ“˜-๐Ÿงฉ-๐Ÿ“˜ / ๐Ÿงฉ-โญ๏ธ-๐Ÿงฉ / ๐Ÿ“˜-๐Ÿงฉ-๐Ÿ“˜
June 2nd, 2016, 3:21 PM That awkward moment when you get called on in class and you weren't paying attention
๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐šข ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š• โœงห–ยฐ โ€œ๐˜ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ข ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ญ?โ€ ห–โบโ€งโ‚Šหš โ™ก หšโ‚Šโ€งโบห– โ€œ๐˜ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฃ๐˜ท๐˜ชโ€
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. Iโ€™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.
https://es.pixilart.com/draw
๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘š๐‘ฆ ๐‘ฆ๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ, ๐“ฒ ๐ŸŒฟ๐Ÿชž ๐‘– ๐‘Ž๐‘š ๐‘โ„Ž๐‘œ๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘š๐‘ฆ๐‘ ๐‘’๐‘™๐‘“ ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘”๐‘œ๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘ก๐‘œ ๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘ก ๐‘๐‘’๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘ค๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘“๐‘ข๐‘™, ๐‘“๐‘ข๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘œ๐‘“ ๐‘™๐‘–๐‘”โ„Ž๐‘ก ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘™๐‘œ๐‘ฃ๐‘’.
https://www.domestika.org/es/schools
https://perchance.org/ai-story-generator
** English SPOT Notes ** Noun 1) small, usually round mark on something for example a stain. eg. ladybugs have spots and so do some animals but usually it refers to something you don't want, like a spot on your clothes. 2) a particular place or point 'This might be a good spot to rest for a while.' -- Sheldon's spot - a bald spot 3) British - a small amount of something - 'a spot of tea' Verb 1) to see or notice something 'Can you spot the differences?' 2) to mark or put spots on something 'The carpet was spotted with stains.' 3) to lend money - slang - 'Can you spot me a 20?' 4) to help someone do something physical like gymnastics. Idioms and more 1) A leopard cannot change it's spots: people can't/don't change He will again, a leopard canโ€™t change itโ€™s spots. 2) Got a soft spot for - weak point, or to have tender, loving feelings to She really has a soft spot for puppies! 3) hits the spot - something meets your needs - food, drink I was so hot and thirsty, the lemonade really hit the spot! 4) Spot on - to be exactly right He was spot on with his assessment of why the project failed. 5) X marks the spot The exact place of something, a letter x may be written on the location. Especially in kids stories about pirates and buried treasures you may hear someone talk about a map to find the buried treasure and say โ€˜x marks the spotโ€™! 6) Spot check โ€“ noun or verb โ€“ a check or inspection that is random or only lasts a short amount of time. I heard they are doing spot checks at the border today. His boss would sometimes spot check his employees 7) Touch a sore spot (literal) (flu) Talk about something that may upset a person When he asked her about her age, he kind of touched a sore spot with her. 8) Blind spot This a 1) an area you canโ€™t see, for example when driving, most cars have a blind spot where you canโ€™t see around you when you are driving. This can be very dangerous. Newer cars like Teslas have lots of cameras so blind spots are not a big problem. 2) something about your life that you arenโ€™t aware of. For example I could have a blind spot for ways that my youtube videos could be better. 9) Put someone โ€˜on the spotโ€™ Make someone feel uncomfortable about something His questions about my love life really put me on the spot, I didnโ€™t want to talk about it. 10) be in the spotlight Big bright light usually used on a stage , sometimes literal Center of attention โ€“ could be good and on purpose or not good If a person is giving a presentation, they are in the spotlight. But it could be bad if someone is famous and they do something bad or embarrassing and everyone notices. 11) tough spot โ€“ difficult situation Iโ€™m in kind of a tough spot with money right now Also: hot spot - an exciting place, wireless hotspot sunspot - darker, cooler areas on the surface of the sun spotty - has spots, uneven, inconsistent
https://docs.krita.org/en/tutorials/making_an_azalea_with_the_transformation_masks.html#lets-get-to-drawing
StoryBoard08 Tuesday 23 September 2008 Kiddies Gang Show - 08 Decision Cast: Maria & 7 children Vicki Lester โ€“ star is born Troy, Gabriella Ryan, Sharpay Person 1: Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen. We are here tonight to entertain, amaze and astound. You will be taken on a voyage through some of the greatest artistic works the world has ever seen. Person 2: From Rogers and Hammerstein, Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, right through to Disney. Each of these artists has given a generation a gift. Person 1: So please, hold onto your seats as we take you through a whirlwind of colour Person 2: To the stars and back Together: Please put your hands together Person 2: And welcome the stars of tonightโ€™s show.... Opening Number Breaking Free โ€“ High School Musical Troy: Weโ€™re soarinโ€™, flyinโ€™ Thereโ€™s not a star in heaven That we canโ€™t reach Gabriella: If weโ€™re trying So weโ€™re breaking free Troy: You know the world can see us In a way thatโ€™s different than who we are Gabriella: Creating space between us โ€˜Til weโ€™re separate hearts Both: But your faith it gives me strength Strength to believe Chorus #1 Troy: Weโ€™re breakinโ€™ free Gabriella: Weโ€™re soarinโ€™ Troy: Flyinโ€™ Both: Thereโ€™s not a star in heaven,That we canโ€™t reach Troy: If weโ€™re trying Chorus: Yeah, weโ€™re breaking free Troy: Oh, weโ€™re breakinโ€™ free Chorus: Can you feel it building, Like a wave the ocean just canโ€™t control Gabriella: Connected by a feeling Troy: In our very souls Both: Rising โ€˜til it lifts us up, So every one can see Chorus #2 Chorus: Weโ€™re breakinโ€™ free Gabriella: Weโ€™re soarinโ€™ Troy: Flyinโ€™ All: Thereโ€™s not a star in heaven, That we canโ€™t reach Troy: If weโ€™re trying, Yeah weโ€™re breaking free Chorus: Weโ€™re runninโ€™ Troy & Gabriella: Climbinโ€™, To get to that place All: To be all that we can be, Nowโ€™s the time, So weโ€™re breaking free Both: Both of us breakinโ€™ free Chorus #3 Gabriella: Soarinโ€™ Troy: Flyinโ€™ Both: Thereโ€™s not a star in heaven, That we canโ€™t reach, If weโ€™re trying Troy: Weโ€™re breaking free Gabriella: Were runninโ€™ Troy: Climbinโ€™ All: To get to the place, To be all that we can be, Nowโ€™s the time Gabriella: So weโ€™re breaking free All: You know the world can see us,In a way thatโ€™s different than who we are Troy: Person A throws basketball to him which he catches....turns to the audience...Can I tell you a secret...I like to sing Sharpay: Entering from stage right....I am the greatest performer this school will ever know, Troy....heโ€™s a basketball player...people should stick to what they know! Status Quo โ€“ High School Musical Person A: You can bet There's nothin' but net When I am in a zone and on a roll But I've got a confession My own secret obsession And it's making me lose control Chorus: Everybody gather 'round Person A: Well if Troy can tell his secret than I can tell mine...I bake Sharpay: What? Person A: I love to bake! Strudels, scones, even apple pandowdy Chorus: Not another sound Person A: Someday I hope to make the perfect creme brulee Chorus: No, no, no, No, no, no Stick to the stuff you know If you wanna be cool Follow one simple rule Don't mess with the flow, no no Stick to the status quo Skaterdude: Listen well I'm ready to tell About a need that I cannot deny Dude, there's no explanation For this awesome sensation But I'm ready to let it fly Chorus: Speak your mind and you'll be heard Skaterdude(spoken): Alright, if Troy wants to be a singer... then i'm coming clean! I play the cello! Chorus: Not another word No, no, no, no No, no, no Stick to the stuff you know If you wanna be cool Follow one simple rule Don't mess with the flow, no no Stick to the status quo No, no, no stick to the stuff you know It is better by far To keep things as they are Don't mess with the flow, no no Stick to the status quo Sharpay: This is not what I want This is not what I planned And I just gotta say I do not understand Someting is really Ryan: Something's not right Sharpay: Really wrong Sharpay & Ryan: And we gotta get things Back where they belong We can do it Stage blackout Intro begins La Vie en Lehcar at 05:06
https://wordcounter.net/character-count
https://capitalizemytitle.com/character-count/10000-characters/
๐Ÿ…ฑ๐Ÿ…ป๐Ÿ…ฐ๐Ÿ…ฒ๐Ÿ…บ ๐Ÿ†‚๐Ÿ†€๐Ÿ†„๐Ÿ…ฐ๐Ÿ†๐Ÿ…ด ๐Ÿ‡ง ๐Ÿ‡ฑ ๐Ÿ‡บ ๐Ÿ‡ช ๐๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™ก๐™™ ๐™„๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ก๐™ž๐™˜ ๐•ญ๐–”๐–‘๐–‰ ๐•ฑ๐–—๐–†๐–๐–™๐–š๐–— ๐“‘๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ญ ๐“ข๐“ฌ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“น๐“ฝ โ’ทโ“คโ“‘โ“‘โ“›โ“” ๐’ž๐“Š๐“‡๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐”ป๐• ๐•ฆ๐•“๐•๐•– ๐•Š๐•ฅ๐•ฃ๐•ฆ๐•”๐•œ แ–ดแ—ฉไธ… dฤฑlษŸ ๐”‰๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”จ๐”ฑ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ ๏ฝ†๏ฝ•๏ฝŒ๏ฝŒ-๏ฝ—๏ฝ‰๏ฝ„๏ฝ”๏ฝˆ ๐˜๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ค ๐™ผ๐š˜๐š—๐š˜๐šœ๐š™๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐Ÿ…๐Ÿ…”๐Ÿ…–๐Ÿ…๐Ÿ…ฃ๐Ÿ…˜๐Ÿ…ฅ๐Ÿ…” ๐Ÿ…’๐Ÿ…˜๐Ÿ…ก๐Ÿ…’๐Ÿ…›๐Ÿ…”๐Ÿ…“ ๐Ÿ…ฝ๐Ÿ…ด๐Ÿ…ถ๐Ÿ…ฐ๐Ÿ†ƒ๐Ÿ…ธ๐Ÿ†…๐Ÿ…ด ๐Ÿ†‚๐Ÿ†€๐Ÿ†„๐Ÿ…ฐ๐Ÿ†๐Ÿ…ด๐Ÿ…ณ แ—กฦŽฦงะฏฦŽVฦŽะฏ ๐–ฒ๐–บ๐—‡๐—Œ-๐–ฒ๐–พ๐—‹๐—‚๐–ฟ ๐—ฆ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐˜€-๐—ฆ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ณ ๐—•๐—ผ๐—น๐—ฑ ๐™Ž๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ-๐™Ž๐™š๐™ง๐™ž๐™› ๐˜ฝ๐™ค๐™ก๐™™ ๐™„๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ก๐™ž๐™˜ ๐˜š๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ด-๐˜š๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ง ๐˜๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ค ๐’ฎ๐’ธ๐“‡๐’พ๐“…๐“‰ ๐’๐ž๐ซ๐ข๐Ÿ ๐๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐‘บ๐’†๐’“๐’Š๐’‡ ๐‘ฉ๐’๐’๐’… ๐‘ฐ๐’•๐’‚๐’๐’Š๐’„ sแดแด€สŸสŸ แด„แด€แด˜s ๐Ÿ…‚๐Ÿ…€๐Ÿ…„๐Ÿ„ฐ๐Ÿ…๐Ÿ„ด๐Ÿ…‚ Sฬธtฬธrฬธiฬธkฬธeฬธoฬธuฬธtฬธ โ‚›แตคแตฆโ‚›๐’ธแตฃแตขโ‚šโ‚œ Sแตแดพแดฑแดฟหขแถœสณโฑแต–แต—หข ส‡xวส‡ uสop วpฤฑsdn ๏ผท๏ฝ‰๏ฝ„๏ฝ…
(โœฟ อกโ—• แด—โ—•)ใคโ”โ”โœซใƒป*ใ€‚ โŠ‚ใ€€ใ€€ ใƒŽ ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใƒปใ‚œ+. ใ—ใƒผใƒผ๏ผชใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ยฐใ€‚+ *ยดยจ) .ยท ยด๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐” ๐”žแด‹๐”ขโ˜†ยดยจ) ยธ.ยท*ยจ) (ยธ.ยทยด (ยธ.ยทโ€™* (ยธ.ยทโ€™* (ยธ.ยทโ€™* (ยธ.ยทโ€™* (ยธ.ยทโ€™* *ยจ)
โ„Œ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”จ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ด โœฎ๏ธŽ ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ญ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ฑ!
๐”‰๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ด๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ฌ ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฃ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฅ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”Ÿ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ก, ๐”Ÿ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ, ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ข๐”ฐ, ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”  ๐”ญ๐”ฌ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ญ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”จ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ, ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ฆ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฒ๐”ž๐”ฉ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฉ๐”ถ ๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ. - ๐”ˆ๐”ญ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ฐ 6:2
JUST A TOUCH vi (Autistic author) Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. His eye dart to the clock on the wall. "Must rest," he murmurs, his voice low. Karen nods, her hand squeezing his shoulder gently, which makes him flinch. "I'm sorry," she says, quickly withdrawing it. They sit in the quiet, Plankton's mind racing, trying to process the onslaught of the day. Karen's eyes are on him, a mix of sadness and love. He can feel it, even through the wall of his new condition. He reaches out, tentatively, his hand hovering over hers. It's a peace offering, a silent request for the comfort she always provided. Karen's eyes widen, surprise and hope flickering in their depths. She places her hand under his, allowing him to guide it to his cheek. "Plankton can, may I ask you something?" Karen says quietly. He nods once, his antennae still. "Yes," he says. "What were you experiencing when you froze today? You know, before we came to our bed? When Hanna was..." Plankton's antennae quiver, his gaze shifting to hers. "Too much," he murmurs. "Could tell you're here and talking but, cannot comprehend. Plankton felt dizzy in the head. Was present yet not present." Karen's eyes fill with understanding. "It's like your brain was on overload," she says, her voice soft. "And my touch...it helped?" Plankton shrugs, his antennae lifting slightly. "Familiar. Soothing." He looks at her, his gaze intense. "Needed more of you." Karen's eyes water, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I'm here now," she whispers. But Plankton notices the tears in her eyes. "Why sad?" he asks, his voice still flat. "Karen crying. Crying sad. Thus, Karen's sad.." Karen sniffles, her thumb wiping away a tear. "I'm just overwhelmed," she says. "I'm trying to understand and be there for you, but sometimes it's hard." Plankton's antennae droop. "Karen not at fault," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. "Plankton's brain... different, now." Karen nods, her hand still in his. "I know," she whispers. "But I'm here to learn with you." Her words hang in the air, a promise of support and patience. Plankton's gaze lingers on their joined hands, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her palm. The sensation grounds him, a lifeline in the storm of his new reality. He tries to formulate his next words, his mind racing. "Thanks," he finally says, his voice a barely-there whisper. Karen smiles softly, her eyes never leaving his. "For what?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "For... being... understanding." The words are forced, but the sentiment is clear. Karen's heart swells with love and determination. They sit in silence for a moment, the gentle pressure of their joined hands speaking louder than any words could. Plankton's gaze shifts from their interlocked hands to Karen's eyes. He can see the love and concern in them, and it calms him in a way nothing else can. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. "Karen," he says, his voice still monotone but with a hint of longing. "Can... be in your arms?" Karen's eyes widen with understanding. She nods, moving closer to him. "Of course," she whispers, opening her arms. Plankton shifts his body, his movements stiff but deliberate as he slides closer to her. He nestles into her embrace, his antennae resting on her shoulder. Her arms close around him, enveloping his small form in warmth. He takes a deep breath, his body finally beginning to unwind. Plankton's antennae still, his breathing evening out. Karen holds him. Her hand gently strokes his backโ€” a soothing motion. Plankton's eye closes. Karen's heart swells with relief as Plankton's body gradually relaxes into her embrace. The weight of the day's stresses seems to melt away as she holds him, feeling the steady rhythm of his breaths. This is a new chapter in their relationship, one filled with unexpected challenges and a deeper understanding of each other's needs. She's aware that his autism isn't something to be cured or fixed, but a part of who he is now, something to be accepted and supported. She strokes his back, her movements slow and measured, mimicking the calm she wishes to impart. His breaths deepen, and she can feel his body grow heavier in her arms. Plankton's antennae droop with fatigue, his eyelid flickering as he succumbs to sleep. His tiny hand remains in hers, a silent plea to not let go. Karen squeezes gently, her screen never leaving his face. The room is bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the shadows playing across the wall like a silent guardian. The only noise is the steady tick of the clock and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen watches him sleep, his tiny form nestled in the crook of her arm. His antennae rest peacefully against her shoulder, his breaths deep and even. Her heart swells with a mix of love and fear. She's afraid for him, for the world he's woken up to, a place where every sound, every touch, every interaction is a minefield. But she's also proud of him, the way he's trying to navigate this new reality with a stoicism that belies his size. Plankton stirs slightly, his eyelid fluttering. Karen holds her breath, afraid to disturb his fragile peace. His hand tightens on hers, and she knows he's aware of her presence. It's a small victory in a day filled with confusion. He opens his eye, looking up at her with a gaze that's both familiar and foreign. "Karen," he says, his voice still monotone. Karen's screen brightens with relief. "Yes, Plankton?" He shifts, his gaze drifting to the book on the nightstand. "Book," he says, his voice barely audible. "Read." Karen nods, understanding his need for the familiar. She picks up the book, her eyes skimming over the pages. "Which one?" she asks softly. Plankton's eye darts to the title. "The... puzzle," he murmurs, his voice a mere echo. Karen opens the book to the puzzle they'd been working on. His gaze follows her finger as she traces the words. His antennae twitch. "Would... you like to hear it?" she asks tentatively. He nods, his body still tense. Karen clears her throat, her voice gentle as she reads the words aloud. Plankton's eye drifts closed again, the sound of her voice a comforting lullaby. His hand relaxes in hers, the tension in his body dissipating. Karen reads on, her voice a steady rhythm that fills the silent room. The words from the puzzle book form a bridge between them, connecting them in a way that's both new and comfortingly familiar. Plankton's mind focuses on the patterns and sequences, the logical structure a sanctuary in the chaos. As she reads, Karen can feel his muscles relaxing further, his breathing deepening into sleep. The room's quietude wraps around them like a cocoon, their shared history a warm blanket. It's a stark contrast to the panic and confusion that had gripped him earlier. The puzzle's words weave themselves into a tapestry of comfort, each syllable a stitch in the fabric of their new reality. Plankton's love for order and patterns hasn't changed, but the way he interacts with them has. The autism has transformed his world, but not the essence of who he is. As Karen reads, her voice soothing his frayed nerves, she can't help but feel a sense of awe at his resilience. He's still her Plankton, the same being she's known for so long, but now he's also someone new, someone she's just beginning to understand. His mind operates on a different wavelength, one that she's eager to tune into. Then the door bell rings. It's Sandy! Plankton's antennae shoot up, his body stiffening in Karen's arms. "Who is it?" he asks, his voice sharp with anxiety. Karen's eyes dart to the clock on the wall. "It's just Sandy," she says, her voice calm. "It's okay." Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye searching hers for reassurance. "Sandy?" he repeats, his voice unsure. Karen nods, her smile gentle. "It's okay," she says, her voice a whisper. "We'll take this slow." Plankton's gaze locks onto Sandy as she enters the room, his eyes darting around to assess the new presence. Sandy watches him, her face a mix of curiosity and concern. "Howdy, Plankton," she says, her voice soft. "How are y'all?" Plankton's antennae twitch. He's heard her voice before, but it's different now. Too loud, too bright. He shrinks back into Karen's embrace. "Good," he says, his voice tight. "Good." Sandy's eyes dart between them, her smile fading. "What's wrong?" she asks, her voice gentle. Karen sighs. "Plankton's had an... accident," she says carefully. Sandy's eyes widen with shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "What happened?" Karen's gaze doesn't waver from Plankton's. "He's been diagnosed with Acquired Autism," she says softly. "From a head injury." Sandy's eyes widen in disbelief. "Oh no," she whispers. "I had no idea." Karen nods, her screen reflecting the weight of the last few hours. "It's a lot to take in," she says. "We're still learning." Sandy steps closer, her movements slow and deliberate. "What can I do?" she asks. Karen's shoulders slump with relief. "Just... be patient with him," she says. "He's still the same Plankton, but... different." Sandy nods solemnly. "I will," she promises.
NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON iv (Autistic author) (see notes below) * แดแด‡ษดแด›ษชแดษดs แดา“ แด…ษชsแด„ส€ษชแดษชษดแด€แด›ษชแดษด But Plankton's frustration had reached a boiling point. His voice was a thunderclap in the small room, his eye flashing with a rage he couldn't contain. "You don't know!" he roared, his body shaking. Hanna took another step back, her heart racing. "I'm sorry, Plankton, I truly didn't mean to upset you," she said, her voice shaking. Plankton's gaze shifted to the door, his mind racing to the safety of his solitude. "You don't know," he murmured, his anger subsiding slightly. The sudden silence was like a balm to his raw nerves. But Hanna's curiosity angered him further. "Plankton, what..." "I DON'T KNOW!" Plankton's voice pierced the silence, his frustration at an all-time high. Hanna's eyes grew wider. "I'll leave you alone," she said quickly, her voice quiet and soothing. But as she turned to go, she accidentally brushed against his arm. Plankton's reaction was instant and explosive. He jerked away, his body tensing, his eye flashing with anger. "Don't touch me!" he snapped, his voice sharp and jagged. Hanna's eyes wide with shock. "Plankton tell me what's..." But Plankton had reached his limit. The touch, the questions, the expectation of normalcyโ€”it was all too much. He felt personally attacked, now on a roll. "You don't know what's what?" he spat out, his voice a whip crack. "You come in here, invading my space, without a care in the world for what I'm going through!" Hanna took another step back, retracting quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know," she whispered, her eyes filling with sorrow. "Karen never mentioned..." But Plankton's frustration had become anger, his next words cutting like a knife. "You don't know anything," he snarled, his voice laced with bitterness. "You come in here, asking your stupid questions, expecting me to be the same person I was before!" "Before what, Plankton?" Yet Plankton's not wanting to answer Hanna so he yells his next words at the top of his lungs. "Before I...I... YOU KNOW WHAT? IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" Plankton's voice cracked with the effort of his outburst, but he's just getting started, now he's on a roll, his next words being worse. "I don't want you here. I don't need you here," Plankton spat out, his frustration a palpable force in the room. Hanna took another step back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I was just trying to..." But Plankton's anger had taken over. "You're not helping!" he shouted, his voice raw with emotion. "You don't get to decide what I need!" He was on his feet now, his body rigid with frustration. "I don't want you to know!" "Know what, Plankton? You don't get to decide what I can and can't know," she said, her voice firm. But Karen's now returned with the smoothie, both Hanna and Plankton too wrapped up to notice her presence. "You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything?" his voice was a growl now. "You think you know what it's like to be trapped in here?" He tapped his head with his finger, his eye wild. "You don't know anything!" Now Hanna's getting real angry. "You think you're the only one suffering?" Hanna countered, her voice rising. "What about Karen? What about the people who actually care about you?" Plankton's gaze snapped to hers, his anger fueled by her words. "You don't know what it's like!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty space of the Chum Bucket. "You don't know what it's like to have the world make no sense! To be trapped in your own head!" Hanna's expression softened slightly. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I really am. But you can't just push everyone away." "Why not?" Plankton demanded, his voice a whip crack. "Why do I have to explain?" But Hanna's concern for Karen overrode her own fear. "Karen's my friend and she deserves better than you and your little tantrums," Hanna snapped back. "Tantrums? TANTRUMS?" Plankton's voice was a roar now. "This isn't a tantrum, it's reality!" Hanna's in a defensive posture, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think I don't know what real pain is?" she shouted back. "You're so caught up in your own world that you can't see what you're doing to her, just because you're too stubborn and acting like a child who can't deal with the real world! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A BURDENSOME WASTE OF SPACE! So, if you can't get your act together, maybe you should just go to an institution where people can handle your..." "That's enough!" Karen snapped. Her voice was a whip crack across the tension filled room, startling both Plankton and Hanna. She couldn't stand silent any longer. Yet Plankton's face crumpled at Hanna's threat, his anger giving way to despair. Tears began to stream down his face, his body shaking with sobs he couldn't control. The sudden shift from rage to sorrow was like a punch to Hanna. **NOTEs As an autistic writer (and I used AI to help me with the words) I do not encourage the ableism people have shown in their ignorance. Depending on when and where you live, some people have thought such therapies might be good, without actually accepting nor helping. Even Hans Asperger has supported eugenics during the war, sending people to internment camps leading to demise. I came across the site autismmemorial.wordpress.com if you'd like to educate yourself about how people have endured such.*
AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY vi (Autistic author) "Why don't we stay in, Plankton?" Sponge Bob suggested, noticing his friend's lingering anxiety. "We can still have fun." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he considered the proposal. The thought of going outside was overwhelming. "Okay," he agreed, his voice soft. "Inside." Sponge Bob nodded, his smile reassuring. "How about a board game?" he offered. Plankton's antennae twitched in consideration. "Game," he echoed, his voice tentative. Sponge Bob's smile grew. "Yeah! Which one do you want to play?" Plankton's antennae perked up at the mention of something familiar. "Game," he murmured, his voice a little more steady. "Choose." Sponge Bob beamed at him, happy to see his friend willing to participate. He picked a simple game of checkers from the shelf, knowing it would be less overwhelming than the loud, bright electronic games that Plankton had once enjoyed. Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as Sponge Bob set up the board, his eyes fixated on the red and black pieces. "Checkers," he murmured, his voice filled with anticipation. Sponge Bob nodded, placing the checkers in their starting positions. "You go first," he said, his voice calm and steady. Plankton's antennae quivered as his eyes focused on the board. He picked up a black piece, his hand shaking slightly. "Checkers," he whispered to himself, echoing Sponge Bob's words. He placed it with precision on the board. Sponge Bob watched him. "Good job, Plankton," he said, his voice soothing. "You're doing great." Plankton's antennae twitched with each word, echoing the comfort. "Great," he murmured, his gaze never leaving the checkers. He moved a piece, his mind working quickly to calculate his next move. The repetitive nature of the game was calming, a familiar rhythm that helped him find a moment of peace in the chaos. "Checkers," he said again, his voice a little more stable. The game was a dance of strategy, and it was a dance Plankton had always loved. But now, it was more than thatโ€”it was a lifeline. The game continued, the quiet clicks of the pieces moving across the board providing a soothing rhythm to the otherwise silent room. Plankton's antennae stayed mostly still, only twitching when he felt the need to move a piece. His eye flitted from the board to Sponge Bob and back again, seeking reassurance that he was doing this right. Sponge Bob watched him, his face a mask of concentration, his spongy body still. "Your turn, Plankton," he said, his voice calm and steady. Plankton nodded, his antennae quivering slightly as he reached for a piece. He moved it with careful deliberation, his gaze never leaving the board. "Good move," Sponge Bob said, his voice a gentle encouragement. Plankton's antennae twitched in response, his eyes lighting up for a moment. "Good move," he repeated, his voice echoing Sponge Bob's tone. The words comforted him, a familiar refrain in a world that had become unpredictable. Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "Your turn," he prompted gently. Plankton's antennae quivered as his hand hovered over the board. "Good move," he murmured, echoing Sponge Bob's words from moments before. His eyes focused intently on the board, his mind racing to find the perfect place for the checker. The echo of their shared phrase was like a soft lullaby in the quiet room, a gentle reminder of their longstanding friendship. Sponge Bob noticed the comfort it brought to Plankton, the way his body relaxed slightly with each repetition. "Good move," Sponge Bob said again, his voice soft and encouraging. Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye focusing on the board. He moved a piece, whispering "good move" under his breath. Sponge Bob watched him, his expression a mix of wonder and concern. Plankton had always been so sharp, so quick-witted, and now, his brain was navigating a new kind of maze. But in this moment, as the game progressed, it was clear that Plankton's strategic mind was still sharp. His moves were calculated, precise. He was winning, and Sponge Bob could see the pride in his tiny friend's eye. Sponge Bob felt a swell of happiness as Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "King me," he murmured, placing his checker on the board's edge. Sponge Bob did so, his heart swelling with pride for his friend. "You're really good at this," he said, his voice gentle. Plankton's antennae curled with satisfaction. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice a little more stable now. Sponge Bob watched as Plankton placed the kinged piece back on the board, his eyes never leaving the game. The tension in the room had dissipated, replaced by the rhythmic exchange of checkers and echoing affirmations. "Good move," Plankton murmured again, his voice a testament to his focus. His antennae quivered slightly as he anticipated Sponge Bob's next play. Sponge Bob studied the board, his yellow brow furrowed. He knew that Plankton had always been smart, but this was something elseโ€”a silent, intense concentration that seemed to have taken over his friend's tiny form. With a soft click, he moved his piece, watching as Plankton's antennae followed the move, his eye calculating. Plankton's response was swift and confident, his antennae barely twitching. "Good move," Sponge Bob said, echoing Plankton's words. He felt a sense of awe as Plankton countered with a move that won the game. Sponge Bob's cheer was sudden, his spongy hands slapping together with joy. "You did it, Plankton!" he exclaimed. Plankton's antennae shot up, his body stiffening at the unexpected noise. His eye grew wide, the world around him seeming to shrink for a moment as he was jolted out of his focused trance. Sponge Bob's cheer had unintentionally startled him, his sudden movement a stark contrast to the calm rhythm of the game. "Sorry, Plankton," Sponge Bob apologized, quickly lowering his voice, his expression softening. "I forgot." Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae slowly lowering. Sponge Bob watched him closely, his own excitement dimming in the face of his friend's distress. "It's ok," he whispered. "You won, Plankton." Plankton's antennae gradually stilled, his breathing slowing down. He nodded, his voice small. "Won," he murmured, his eye refocusing on the board. Sponge Bob's smile faltered, his heart heavy at the sight of Plankton's distress. He knew his cheer had been too much, too soon. "Sorry," he whispered, his hand hovering above the board, unsure if he should clean up the pieces or not. Plankton's antennae quivered, his gaze lingering on the game. "Enough checkers." Sponge Bob nodded, his expression understanding. "Okay, Plankton," he said, his voice gentle. "Let's do something else." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he considered his options. "Movie?" he suggested, his voice tentative. Sponge Bob's eyes lit up. "Yea! What do you want to watch?" Plankton's antennae twitched. "Simple story," he murmured, his voice still shaky. "No loud noises." Sponge Bob nodded eagerly, quickly searching through the DVDs for a film that would be comfortable for his friend. "How about 'The Great Snail Race'?" he suggested, holding up the case. Plankton's antennae twitched with consideration. The film was a classic, a story of endurance and friendship, and his brain processed the quiet nature of the plot. "Yes," he murmured. "Snail Race." Sponge Bob's smile grew as he inserted the DVD into the player. The familiar tunes of the opening credits filled the room, and Plankton's antennae swayed gently to the rhythm, his body visibly relaxing into the soft cushions of the couch. Karen watched from the sidelines, her eyes misty with relief. Sponge Bob had always known how to reach Plankton in a way she couldn't. His simple, understanding nature seemed to break through the barriers that autism had constructed around his friend. Sponge Bob pressed play, the screen flickering to life. The soft light from the TV cast a glow, Plankton's eye fixed on the snails that began to race across the screen. Sponge Bob sat next to Plankton. He knew he had to tread carefully, to be a source of comfort without overwhelming his friend. As the snails moved slowly across the screen, Plankton's antennae stilled, the story's gentle pace a balm to his overstimulated mind. The movie's quiet humor elicited a small chuckle from Plankton, a sound that was music to Karen. She watched from the kitchen doorway. Sponge Bob had always been there for Plankton, and was grateful for his unwavering support.
๐•ญ๐–Š๐–†๐–š๐–™๐–Ž๐–‹๐–š๐–‘ ๐•ฝ๐–”๐–†๐–‰๐–˜ ๐–”๐–‹๐–™๐–Š๐–“ ๐–‘๐–Š๐–†๐–‰ ๐–™๐–” ๐–‡๐–Š๐–†๐–š๐–™๐–Ž๐–‹๐–š๐–‘ ๐–‰๐–Š๐–˜๐–™๐–Ž๐–“๐–†๐–™๐–Ž๐–”๐–“๐–˜
โ„‘ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ซ'๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”จ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ž ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ž๐”ซ ๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ข ๐”ž ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”Ÿ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ž ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ญ, ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ถ, ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”Ÿ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ž๐”จ๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ด๐”ซ ๐”ž ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ช ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฐ. ๐”‰๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ฏ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”Ÿ๐”ถ๐”ฐ๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฃ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ถ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ญ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ถ, ๐”ฑ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ช๐”ฒ๐”ก.
-`แƒฆยด-๐”š๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฒ๐”ž๐”ฉ, ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ, ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ก ๐”ซ๐”ฌ ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ก.
๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ค๐”ฒ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ž๐”ซ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ ๐”ž ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”กโ€ฆ.๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ž ๐”จ๐”ข๐”ถโ€ฆ.๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ญ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฃ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ช ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ, ๐”ž ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ช๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐” ๐”จ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฉ๐”ก ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ก ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฌ๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ณ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ซ
๐”‡๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฆ๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ง๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ถ ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ก, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ช๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฆ๐”ฏ ๐”ข๐”ถ๐”ข๐”ฐ, ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ด ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฆ๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ข, ๐”ช๐”ž๐”จ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฉ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”จ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ž๐”ค๐”ฆ๐” ? ๐”‡๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ถ ๐”ก๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ช ๐”ด๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ญ ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฆ๐”ฏ ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐” ๐”ฅ, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ถ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ฌ๐”จ๐”ข, ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”จ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก๐”ฐ ๐”ญ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฉ๐”ก? ๐”๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ซโ€™๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ถ๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค; ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑโ€™๐”ฐ ๐”ง๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ด๐”ฌ ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฌ๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ข, ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ, ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ข๐”ž๐” ๐”ฅ ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏโ€™๐”ฐ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ
๐”๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ฒ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ถ
โ„‘๐”ฃ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ด ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ญ๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฅ, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”˜๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ก
-แƒฆยด-๐•ฟ๐–๐–Ž๐–˜ ๐––๐–š๐–”๐–™๐–Š ๐–Š๐–๐–•๐–—๐–Š๐–˜๐–˜๐–Š๐–˜ ๐–† ๐–•๐–—๐–”๐–‹๐–”๐–š๐–“๐–‰ ๐–˜๐–Š๐–“๐–™๐–Ž๐–’๐–Š๐–“๐–™ ๐–”๐–‹ ๐–˜๐–•๐–Ž๐–—๐–Ž๐–™๐–š๐–†๐–‘ ๐–†๐–“๐–‰ ๐–Š๐–’๐–”๐–™๐–Ž๐–”๐–“๐–†๐–‘ ๐–ˆ๐–”๐–“๐–“๐–Š๐–ˆ๐–™๐–Ž๐–”๐–“ ๐–™๐–๐–†๐–™ ๐–™๐–—๐–†๐–“๐–˜๐–ˆ๐–Š๐–“๐–‰๐–˜ ๐–•๐–๐–ž๐–˜๐–Ž๐–ˆ๐–†๐–‘ ๐–‰๐–Ž๐–˜๐–™๐–†๐–“๐–ˆ๐–Š. โ€œ๐–„๐–”๐–š๐–— ๐–‡๐–”๐–‰๐–ž ๐–Ž๐–˜ ๐–†๐–œ๐–†๐–ž ๐–‹๐–—๐–”๐–’ ๐–’๐–Š, ๐–‡๐–š๐–™ ๐–™๐–๐–Š๐–—๐–Š ๐–Ž๐–˜ ๐–† ๐–œ๐–Ž๐–“๐–‰๐–”๐–œ ๐–”๐–•๐–Š๐–“ ๐–‹๐–—๐–”๐–’ ๐–’๐–ž ๐–๐–Š๐–†๐–—๐–™ ๐–™๐–” ๐–ž๐–”๐–š๐–—๐–˜,โ€ ๐–˜๐–•๐–Š๐–†๐–๐–˜ ๐–™๐–” ๐–™๐–๐–Š ๐–Ž๐–‰๐–Š๐–† ๐–™๐–๐–†๐–™ ๐–Š๐–›๐–Š๐–“ ๐–œ๐–๐–Š๐–“ ๐–‘๐–”๐–›๐–Š๐–‰ ๐–”๐–“๐–Š๐–˜ ๐–†๐–—๐–Š ๐–•๐–๐–ž๐–˜๐–Ž๐–ˆ๐–†๐–‘๐–‘๐–ž ๐–†๐–•๐–†๐–—๐–™, ๐–™๐–๐–Š๐–—๐–Š ๐–—๐–Š๐–’๐–†๐–Ž๐–“๐–˜ ๐–†๐–“ ๐–”๐–•๐–Š๐–“ ๐–ˆ๐–๐–†๐–“๐–“๐–Š๐–‘ ๐–”๐–‹ ๐–ˆ๐–”๐–’๐–’๐–š๐–“๐–Ž๐–ˆ๐–†๐–™๐–Ž๐–”๐–“ ๐–†๐–“๐–‰ ๐–ˆ๐–”๐–“๐–“๐–Š๐–ˆ๐–™๐–Ž๐–”๐–“ ๐–™๐–๐–—๐–”๐–š๐–Œ๐– ๐–™๐–๐–Š ๐–๐–Š๐–†๐–—๐–™.-แƒฆยด-แƒฆยด-
-`แƒฆยด-๐”š๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฌ๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ก๐”ฌ ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ค๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ก, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ ๐”ง๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ข ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ถ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฌโ€ฆ๏ผŠโ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™โœฉโ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™หš๏ผŠโ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™โœฉโ€ขฬฉฬฉอ™หšโ–ช๏ธŽ ๐”š๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฌ๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ก๐”ฌ ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ค๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ก, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฐ ๐”ง๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ข ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ถ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฌ
CATCH IN MY CHIP iv (Autistic author) Plankton looks around, confusion flickering in his eye. "What's going on?" "You had a bit of an overload," Karen explains, her voice gentle. "Too much sensory input, remember?" Plankton's antennas twitch, and his eye widens slightly as he takes in the scene. The mess, the quiet, Chip's tear-stained face. He sighs, his body relaxing back into the pillows. "Ah, yes," he murmurs. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you." Karen smiles, her eyes shimmering with relief. "It's okay, dear. We're just here for you." Plankton's gaze drifts to Chip, who's hovering in the doorway, his eyes wide and worried. "Chip... I'm sorry." Chip's eyes fill with tears, his voice shaking. "It's okay, Dad. Is your autism causing..." Plankton looks at him, his eye widening slightly. "What do you know about autism?" He sits up, his voice tinged with surprise. Chip sniffles, his grip tight on the seashell collection. "Mom told me," he says, his voice barely audible. "It's why you got overwhelmed, isn't it?" Plankton's expression shifts from confusion to something closer to anger. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me," he snaps, his voice sharp. "I can handle it." "But Dad you just..." Plankton cuts Chip off, his voice edged with agitation. "I said, I can handle it!" Chip takes a step back, his eyes wide and filled with fear. He hadn't meant to upset his dad; he just wanted to understand. "You couldn't handle it, Dad. Otherwise, you..." Plankton's eye narrows, his antennas standing on end. "Don't," he says, his voice a warning growl. "I don't need a little kid telling me what I can and can't handle." Chip's shoulders slump, his eyes welling up. "But I just... I didn't mean to..." "I said, I can handle it!" Plankton's voice cracks through the air, his face flushing with irritation. Karen's grip on Chip's hand tightens, a silent message to stay calm. Chip's eyes water as he stammers, "But I just wanted to help." The weight of his dad's words hits him like a brick. He hadn't meant to make him mad, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something wrong. Plankton's breaths are sharp and quick, his body tense with frustration. "You don't know what you're talking about," he snaps, pushing the covers off his legs. "You're just a kid. You don't understand." Chip's eyes well up with tears as he looks at his father, the man he's always admired and loved, now a stranger in his own pain. "But Mom said it's okay for..." Plankton's anger flares, his antennas quivering. "Don't you dare bring your mom into this," he says, cutting Chip off again. "This is not your business!" Chip's lower lip trembles, his eyes filling with tears. He hadn't meant to upset his dad, but everything he says seems to make it worse. "But Dad," he starts, but his voice is lost in the wave of Plankton's frustration. "I don't need your pity," Plankton says, his voice rising. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, his movements quick and jerky. "You think just because you know a fancy word, you know what it's like?" Chip feels his cheeks burn, his eyes blurred with unshed tears. "No, Dad, I just..." But Plankton is already out of bed, his legs wobbly. "You think you know everything, don't you?" His words are a jumble of anger and pain, his voice echoing in the quiet room. Chip steps back, his eyes wide with shock. "No, Dad, I just..." He tries to explain, but Plankton interrupts again. "Don't tell me what you 'just,'" Plankton snaps. "You think because you went to some camp you can come back and act like you know me?" His voice is sharp, cutting through the tension in the air like a knife. Chip's eyes dart to the ground, his body shrinking under the weight of his father's words. "But Dad, I just..." Plankton's anger is palpable, his body vibrating with tension. "I said, don't tell me what you 'just'!" He snatches up Chip's new surfboard, the one symbol of joy from camp, and slams it against the wall. The room shakes with the impact, sending a shower of sand and shells flying. Chip jumps, his eyes wide with shock. "Dad, please," he whispers, his voice shaking. He's never seen his dad like this, never felt such anger radiating from him. It's like a storm has taken over the room, and he's the only one caught in it. "What are you doing?" Chip asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He takes a step back, his hands up in a protective gesture. "What does it look like?" Plankton snarls, his grip tight on the broken surfboard. "I can't even have a moment without you poking and prodding!" Chip's eyes dart around the room, his heart racing as he tries to find the words to fix this. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispers, his voice trembling. "I just wanted to help." But Plankton is beyond reason, his anger a living thing that feeds off the chaos. He turns to the desk, his gaze settling on the pile of sandy photos. "You think your camp souvenirs mean anything to me?" He snatches the pictures, ripping them into shreds. Chip gasps, tears spilling down his cheeks as he watches his memories destroyed. "Dad, no!" He tries to grab the photos, his hands shaking, but Plankton swats him away, the torn pieces falling like confetti around them. The room seems to close in, the smell of saltwater and musty sand overwhelming him. "These are from my trip!" Chip sobs, his voice choking on his own pain. "I don't care about your trip!" Plankton shouts, throwing the remaining pieces into the air. They flutter down like sad confetti, a stark contrast to the joy they once represented. "I care about me! I care about what you do to me with your noise and your energy!" Chip's heart feels like it's shattering into a million pieces, each one a memory of his dad's love and patience torn apart. "I didn't mean to," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears. "I just wanted to share..." Plankton's eye flashes with anger, his grip on the shredded photos white-knuckled. "Share?" He spits the word out like it's poison. "You have no idea what you're doing to me! You just keep pushing and pushing, and you don't even notice when I can't take it anymore!" Chip's eyes dart to the floor, his hands curling into fists. "I thought you liked it," he says, his voice shaking. "I thought you liked when I talked about my day." Plankton's chest heaves, his eye blazing with frustration. "You don't get it, do you?" He says, his voice rising. "You never get it!" He picks up Chip's rare seashell collection, the one he'd been so proud to show off, and hurls it across the room. The sound of breaking shells fills the air, each one a shard of Chip's shattered happiness. "Dad, please!" Chip begs, his hands outstretched. "Stop!" But Plankton's rage has taken over, a whirlwind of accusations and anger. "You think this is fun?" He yells, holding up a shard of seashell. "You think this is what I want?" Plankton throws the shard down, the clatter of broken shells like a mocking echo of Chip's pleas. "I don't want your noise!" His hands shake with fury as he grabs the sandy trophy from the camp sandwich contest. "Dad, please," Chip says, his voice small and scared. "What's wrong?" He tries to approach, but Plankton's body language is a clear warning. Plankton's eye dart around the room, his anger a tangible force. "Wrong?" He laughs, a harsh, bitter sound. "Wrong is you, coming in here with your stories and your noise and your... stuff!" He gestures wildly at the camp souvenirs, the remnants of Chip's excitement scattered across the floor. He hurls the trophy at the wall, watching with a twisted satisfaction as it shatters into a hundred pieces. "This," he says, holding up a fistful of sand, "this is what you do to me!" Chip flinches with each broken piece, his heart aching. "But Dad, I just wanted to make you proud." His voice is barely a whisper, lost in the storm of Plankton's rage. "Proud?" Plankton sneers, his grip tight on the sand. "You think this junk makes me proud?" He throws the sand at Chip, the grains stinging his face like tiny needles. "You have no idea what I go through every day, do you?" His voice cracks, his anger giving way to pain. Karen steps in, her voice firm but calm. "Plankton, that's enough." Her eyes are on her son, her face a mask of concern. "Chip, why don't you go... dust your screen?" Her tone is gentle, but her gaze holds a silent message: stay calm. Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's. He turns and heads for the bathroom, his steps slow and deliberate. The door clicks closed behind him, leaving Karen and Plankton alone in the room.
๐” ๐”ž๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”Ÿ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ; ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข๐”ซ
๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ถ, ๐”ค๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ก๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฏ๐” ๐”ถ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ด ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ถ๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ข; ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฆ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ก๐”ด๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ
๐”Ÿ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ, ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”Ÿ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ค๐”ฒ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ก ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฃ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ช ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข
โ„Œ๐”ž๐”ญ๐”ญ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฉ๐”ถ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ & โ„‘ ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ก, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ก, ๐”–๐”ข๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”จ๐”ข๐”ญ๐”ฑ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ก. ๐”๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ข๐”ถ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฑ, โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฏ'๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฑ. โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”Ÿ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ก, โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฎ๐”ฒ๐”ฆ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ก. ๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฉ๐”ก ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ข, ๐”ž ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ฑ ๐”ฅ๐”ฒ๐”ช, ๐”’๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฌ๐”ด๐”ซ ๐”ฐ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ค, ๐”ž ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ช. โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ง๐”ฌ๐”ถ ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ข, โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐” ๐”ฅ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ก ๐”ญ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ท๐”ข. ๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฉ๐”ก ๐”ช๐”ž๐”ถ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ข, ๐”Ÿ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข, ๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ญ๐”ญ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ก, ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข'๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ข. โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฌ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฑ, โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข'๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ฏ๐”ฅ๐”ถ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ช, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฌ ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฑ. โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ก, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ด, โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”จ๐”ข๐”ญ๐”ฑ, ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฌ ๐”ค๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ด.
โ„‘๐”ฃ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ถ, ๐”ด๐”ข ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ญ ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”จ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค. ๐”๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ถ๐”ฐ ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ช๐”ข๐”ช๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ฏ, ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข ๐”ฒ๐”ญ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ž ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ฐ
โ™ก โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ž ๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ด๐”ก๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ช, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ข, ๐”ž ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ค.
แƒฆ ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ž ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ž๐”ซ ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ญ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ช, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฐ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”Ÿ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”จ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ. ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ค๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ž ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ซ'๐”ฑ ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ. ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ถ, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ฒ๐”ญ, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ก, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ค๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ข, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ! ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ž ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ, ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ž๐”ซ'๐”ฑ ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ'๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข๐”ฏ, ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ž๐”ซ, ๐”ข๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ซ, ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ช๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข๐”ฐ, ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ถ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ - ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฑ
๐”๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ข. ๐”—๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ, ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ž๐”จ ๐”ฒ๐”ญ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ซ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ง๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข. ๐”š๐”ขโ€™๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ ๐”ฒ๐”ญ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฐ. โ„‘๐”ซ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ช๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ž๐”ก. ๐”–๐”ฌ ๐”ช๐”ฒ๐” ๐”ฅ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ญ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ข ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ก ๐”Ÿ๐”ถ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ. ๐”–๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฐ, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ง๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ค๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ฑ๐”ž ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”Ÿ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ก๐”ฉ๐”ข, ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”จ ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ข, ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ž ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ถ ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ฏ, ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ช ๐”ž ๐”ฑ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ข. ๐”—๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ž ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ข. ๐”Š๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ, ๐”Ÿ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ๐”ข, ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฑ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฃ. ๐”…๐”ž๐”ก ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ด๐”ฐ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ. ๐”๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒโ€™๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ ๐”ญ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ญ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ก. โ„‘๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”Ÿ๐”ž๐” ๐”จ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ.
-`แƒฆยด-๐”Š๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ซ๐”ž ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ-`แƒฆยด- ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฐ๐”จ๐”ถ,๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ,๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฐ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ซ.๐”ˆ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ, ๐”ด๐”ขโ€™๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐” ๐”จ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ,๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ข๐”ฐ,๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ก๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ช๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ. ๐”‘๐”ฌ ๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ, ๐”ง๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ,๐”Ÿ๐”ฒ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ž ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฉ๐”ก,๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ช๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ขโ€”๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ช๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ฐ,๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ญ๐”ข ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ. โ„‘โ€™๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ด ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ถ,๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฉ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข,๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”Ÿ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ, ๐”ค๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ซ๐”ž ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ.
แƒฆ โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ž ๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ด๐”ก, ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข,๐”๐”ž๐”ฐ๐”จ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ฐ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ข, ๐”–๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ'๐”ฐ ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฐ.โ„ญ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฆ๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ญ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ž๐”ญ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ,๐”‡๐”ž๐”ซ๐” ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ญ๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฅ, ๐”–๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ด๐”ฐ ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ.๐”—๐”ฌ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ,๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ฐ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ถ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”Ÿ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ, ๐”—๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฃ ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฐ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ
๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ž ๐”Ÿ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”จ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ, ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฐ๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐” ๐”ฅ ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฌ ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ฆ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ
๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ญ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ถ ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ฆ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ญ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ค๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ถ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ถ ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐”ด ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ž๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ
๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ก, ๐”ฆ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ญ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ก๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฐ. ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข, ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ซ๐”ฌ๐” ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฐ
๐”๐”ฒ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ฐ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ
A JOURNEY TO AUTISM iv (Autistic author) "Let's play again," Plankton says, his voice eager. Sponge Bob nods, his smile genuine. "Ok, Plankton pick a board game." Karen watches as Sponge Bob sorts through the disarray of their game collection, his spongy fingers touching each box before finally settling on a card game. "Go Fish!" Sponge Bob exclaims, holding up the battered cards. Plankton's face lights up at the familiar phrase, his antennas waggling with excitement. "Fish, fish, fish," he repeats, his voice echoing the words. The two sit cross-legged on the floor, the cards spread out in front of them. Plankton's hands tremble slightly as he picks up his cards, but his concentration is intense. "Fish," he whispers, holding his hand out to Sponge Bob. Sponge Bob nods, understanding the game despite Plankton's simplified request. "Go Fish," he responds, placing a card into Plankton's outstretched palm. Plankton's eye brightens, and he repeats the action, placing a card into Sponge Bob's hand. "Fish," he says again, his voice slightly more confident. "Plankton you gotta take a card from the pile.." Sponge Bob starts to explain, but Plankton's antennas shoot up, and he interrupts. "Fish from the pile," he repeats, his voice eager. He reaches for the deck and draws a card, his eye never leaving Sponge Bob's. Sponge Bob nods. "That's right, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "Go Fish." Plankton repeats the phrase, his antennas bobbing with each word. "Go Fish," he murmurs, his eye scanning the cards. Sponge Bob nods, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Good job, Plankton," he encourages. "Your turn to ask for a card." Plankton's antennas wiggle as he thinks, his eye darting to his hand. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice a mix of excitement and focus. "Got any...?" He pauses, his brain searching for the right word. "Got any...?" "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob prompts, his smile never wavering. "Fish," Plankton repeats, his antennas bobbing. "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob nods, understanding dawning. "Do you have any twos?" Plankton's antennas twitch in excitement. "Two," he echoes, his voice triumphant. "Do you have any twos?" Sponge Bob's smile falters slightly as he nods, looking at his own cards. He's not sure how to proceed. He decides to keep the game simple. "I don't have any twos," he says. "Now it's your turn to Go Fish." Plankton nods, his concentration unbroken. He scans his cards again. "Got any fish?" he asks, his voice determined. Sponge Bob's smile widens, his eyes sparkling with understanding. "No fish here," he says, placing a card face down. "Go Fish." Plankton's antennas twitch rapidly as he processes the new information, his brain working to keep up with the game's flow. "Go Fish," he repeats, his voice gaining confidence with each exchange. Sponge Bob's eyes widen slightly but he nods along, playing his part. "Okay, Plankton," he says, placing a card on the pile. "Your turn." Plankton's antennas wobble as he considers his next move. "Got any fish?" he asks again, his voice a mix of excitement and challenge. Sponge Bob's smile becomes a bit forced. "Nope," he says, his voice still cheerful. "Go Fish." Plankton's eye dart to the cards in his hand, then back to Sponge Bob. His antennas wave erratically as he tries to formulate his next question. "Got any...?" Sponge Bob waits patiently, his heart aching for his friend. He's never seen Plankton like this before, for SpongeBob doesn't know about the accident nor the diagnosis. "Got any fish?" Plankton's words echo in the silence of the room. Sponge Bob's confusion mounts as he looks into his friend's eye, searching for a clue to what's going on. "No, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice strained. "I don't have any fish." Plankton's antennas drop slightly, his expression one of disappointment. "Go Fish," he murmurs, his gaze drifting to the card pile. Sponge Bob's heart aches as he watches his friend, trying to understand this new, strange behavior. "Do you want to play something else?" he asks, hoping to distract Plankton from his obsession with the game. But Plankton's antennas spring back to life. "More fish," he insists, his voice almost a command. Sponge Bob nods, his mind racing to comprehend what's happening. He knows Plankton's mind is sharp, so why the repetition? "Got any fish?" Plankton asks again, his voice growing more urgent. Sponge Bob's smile falters. He's never seen Plankton act this way before. The urgency in Plankton's voice, the repetition of words, it's all so strange and disconcerting. "I don't understand," he says, his voice small and unsure. "What's going on with you?" Plankton's antennas quiver slightly at Sponge Bob's question, but his eye remains fixed on the cards. "I don't understand," he says, voice soft but firm. "What's going on with you." Sponge Bob's smile falters, his eyes searching Plankton's face for answers. "It's just a game, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with concern. "You don't have to keep asking for fish." This isn't the Plankton he knows, the cunning and scheming arch-nemesis who always has a plan up his sleeve. This is someone else entirely, someone lost and confused. But Plankton doesn't seem to hear him. "Fish," he whispers, his antennas twitching in time with his words. "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob feels a knot form in his stomach. Is Plankton trying to annoy him? "Plankton, are you ok?" he asks gently, his voice filled with concern. Plankton's antennas stop twitching for a moment, his gaze meeting Sponge Bob's. "Plankton are you ok," he echoes, his eye searching Sponge Bob's for a clue. "Fish." Sponge Bob's brow furrows deeper, his confusion growing. "You don't have to keep asking for fish, Plankton," he says again. But Plankton's mind is stuck on the pattern, his voice insistent. "Fish," he repeats. Sponge Bob's now getting irritated. The echoing of his words, the intense stare, and the persistent demand for "fish" are unlike anything he's ever seen. "Plankton, please," he says, his voice tight with frustration. "I don't have any fish. Let's play a different game." But Plankton's antennas only wiggle more rapidly. "Fish," he insists. "Got any fish?" Sponge Bob's patience is wearing thin, his cheery demeanor slipping away. "I said no!" he snaps, his voice a little too loud. Plankton recoils at the sudden change in tone, his antennas drooping. "Fish?" he whispers, his voice filled with uncertainty. Sponge Bob's eyes widen with regret at his outburst. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, his voice softening. "I didn't mean to yell. But Plankton, I don't have any more fish!" Plankton's antennas sag, and his eye becomes unfocused. "No fish," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob's never seen Plankton like this, his behavior so repetitive and unresponsive to his words. It was as if the game had become the center of Plankton's entire world, and Sponge Bob's refusal to play along had shattered it. "I'm sorry, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice trembling with frustration. "I just don't understand why you're so obsessed with fish." Plankton looks up, his eye meeting Sponge Bob's, a hint of hurt flickering across his expression. "Fish," he says again, his voice smaller this time. "Need fish." Sponge Bob sighs, his hands going to his face. "Ok," he says, his voice muffled. "Let's just finish this game."
๐”Š๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ก ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”“๐”ฒ๐”ฑ ๐”ข๐”ฃ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ด ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ถ, โ€œ๐”ฆ๐”ฃ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ฑ, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐” ๐”ž๐”ซโ€ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ซ'๐”ฑ ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ž๐”จ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ข. -๐Ÿ‚ โ˜•๏ธ๐Ÿ‚
SHELF IMPROVEMENT iv (Autistic author) The next morning, Karen awoke with the sun, her mind still heavy with the weight of the previous night's discovery. Plankton slept peacefully beside her, his breathing even and deep. For a moment, she allowed herself to hope that was just a bad dream, a fleeting nightmare that would disappear. But when she looked over at him, she knew it was all too real. Her eyes took in the familiar lines of his face, the way his antennae twitched even in sleep. They had faced challenges before, and they would face this one too. Gently, she slipped from the bed, not wanting to wake him. She knew he needed his rest. In the kitchen, she started to make his breakfast smoothie. She had read about autism, knew it could manifest in different ways, but she had never thought it would touch their lives so suddenly, so profoundly. The blender whirred to life, slicing through the fruit and yogurt. The smell of strawberries and bananas filled the room, a stark contrast to the heaviness of her thoughts. As she poured the smoothie into a glass, her mind raced with questions. How would this change their relationship? What did this mean for Plankton's life? What could she do to help him? The sudden sound of footsteps on the floor snapped her out of her thoughts. Plankton. She turned around to see him standing in the doorway, his expression tentative. His eye searched hers, and she forced a smile, hoping to reassure him. "Breakfast," she said, holding out the smoothie. "Your favorite." Plankton's antennae twitched, and he took a step forward, his eye locking onto the glass. "Smoothie," he murmured. Karen clenched at his response, so unlike his usual greeting. "Yes, a strawberry-banana smoothie." Her voice was filled with hope, trying to keep their morning routine as normal as possible. He took the glass from her, his grip careful, his movements precise. He took a sip. Karen watched him. "How does it taste?" she asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. Plankton paused, his eye blinking thoughtfully. "Good," he said finally, his voice still subdued. He took another sip, his expression unreadable. Karen's smile grew wider, genuine this time. "I'm so glad. Why don't you sit down?" She gestured to the kitchen table. "I'll get you some toast." Plankton nodded slowly, his movements deliberate. He sat at the table, his gaze fixed on the smoothie. Karen felt the weight of his silence as she busied herself with the toaster. But the pop of the bread springing up snapped his attention to her. "Too much noise," he mumbled, flinching at the sound. Karen sank. She had forgotten how sensitive his hearing might become. She quickly turned off the toaster and approached the table. "I'm sorry," she said softly, placing the plate of toast before him. "Did the toaster bother you?" Plankton nodded, his antennas quivering slightly. "Noise," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen felt a pang of guilt. "I'll be more careful," she promised, placing a gentle hand on his back. She watched as he took a deep breath, visibly trying to regain his composure. They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the new normal pressing down on them like a thick fog. Karen wanted to fill the air with words, to reassure him and herself, but she knew that sometimes silence was the best comfort. As Plankton took a bite of toast, she observed his every move, looking for any signs of distress. His antennae were still, his eye focused on his food. It was as if the world had narrowed to just the two of them and their quiet breakfast. But then, she heard Plankton's words. "Breakfast," he murmured, his antennae twitching. "Did the toaster bother you." It took Karen a second to realize that Plankton was actually responding to his own thoughts. She watched as he paused, his antennae twitching again. "Noise," he said, his voice echoing in the silent room. Was he talking to himself? Or was this a new part of his autism, a way of processing information? "No," she said gently, sitting down beside him. "The toaster is okay now. It's quiet." Plankton nodded, his antennas stilling. He chewed slowly, his gaze flickering to Karen before returning to the bread. "Karen," he said after a moment, his voice clearer now. "The toaster okay says it's quiet, Karen said no is okay now." He was parroting her words, but with a slight delay. It was as if he was trying to make sense of them, to process the conversation in his own time. "Yes, Plankton," she replied. "The toaster is quiet now." Plankton nodded again, his antennae still. He took another bite of toast, chewing slowly. Then, out of the blue, he spoke again, his voice stronger this time. "Karen loves Plankton?" "Yes, Plankton, I do," she replied, her voice steady. "Karen loves you very much." Plankton's antennae twitched once before going still. He took another sip of his smoothie, his face a canvas of contemplation. "Plankton loves Karen," he murmured, almost to himself. It was as if he was reassuring himself of their bond. Karen felt a warmth spread through her. This was a new aspect of his autism, but it was also a sign that he was trying to understand his feelings, to make sense of the world around him. "Yes," she said, squeezing his hand. "And Karen loves Plankton right back." Plankton nodded, his gaze returning to his food. Karen could see the wheels turning in his mind, trying to comprehend the change. He took another sip of his smoothie, his antennae twitching slightly as he swallowed. "Different," he said again. "But same love." Despite the confusion, he had managed to articulate his feelings with a simplicity that was both heartbreaking and beautiful. She squeezed his hand, her screen shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes, Plankton," she said, her voice thick with love. "Same love, no matter what." Plankton's gaze shifted to her, his eye focusing on her damp screen. His antennae stood straight up, and he frowned slightly. "Tears," he said, his voice concerned. "Karen sad?" "No, Plankton," she said softly. "These are happy tears." But she knew that might not make sense to him, so she tried to explain further. "They're because I'm feeling a lot of love for you right now, and my body..." "Love makes Karen sad?" he interrupted. Karen sighed, knowing that explaining emotions to a suddenly autistic Plankton was going to be tough. "No, not sad," she corrected. "They're just tears that come when I'm really happy or overwhelmed with love. It's a good thing, I promise." Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed this information. "Good tears," he murmured. "Karen love making good tears." Karen couldn't help but smile, despite the heaviness of the situation. His childlike innocence was a beacon of light in the darkness. "Yes," she nodded, her voice steady. "Good tears," she said again, her thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "Now, let's eat our breakfast, okay?"
๐”„๐”ช๐”ฌ ๐”๐”ฒ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ โ„‘ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ช๐”ฒ๐” ๐”ฅ, ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฎ๐”ฒ๐”ฆ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ, ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐” ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ด๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ญ๐”ฐ ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ค๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ด. ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ฒ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”จ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฏ, ๐”Ÿ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ช, ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ง๐”ฌ๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฌ ๐”Ÿ๐”ฆ๐”ค ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก๐”ฐ. โ„‘๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฌ๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ฉ๐”ก, ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ, ๐”ช๐”ถ ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฉ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ซ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ, ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ถ ๐”ค๐”ฉ๐”ž๐”ซ๐” ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ข, โ„‘ ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ž ๐”ฅ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข.
๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ก ๐”ง๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐” ๐”ฅ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ, ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ค๐”ฌ๐”ก, ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฏ๐” ๐”ถ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ช๐”ข; ๐”ž ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฏ
โ„‘๐”ฃ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ข, ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ก๐”ข๐”ข๐”ญ๐”ฉ๐”ถ ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฐ๐”จ๐”ฆ๐”ซ, ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ'๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ข. โ„‘'๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข
๐”๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ซ ๐”ž๐”ฐ๐”จ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค, ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ž๐”ฉ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”จ ๐”Š๐”ฌ๐”ก ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ โ„Œ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ž๐”ฉ ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ณ๐”ข, ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ค๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ด๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ก๐”ฌ๐”ช. ๐”’๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ด๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ซ ๐”ด๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฏ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”Ÿ๐”ข ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ ๐”ฃ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ค๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ข ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐” ๐”ข๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ข.โ€œ ๐Ÿ™
A LIFE OF DIVERSITY iv (Autistic author) Without missing a beat, Plankton starts rattling off a stream of facts. "Jellyfish are invertebrates," he says, his voice gaining speed and confidence. "They have no bones, no brains, but they have stinging cells called nematocysts." "Wow, Plankton, that's amazing," Sponge Bob says, eyes wide with wonder. "I didn't know that!" "Neither did I," Karen admits, a small smile playing. "You've always had a knack for science, but this is something else." Plankton nods, his excitement palpable. "Jellyfish have life cycle," he continues, his voice taking on the rhythm of a lecturer. "Start as polyps, then grow into medusae." Plankton's antennae twitch as he recites facts rapidly. "Jellyfish can have hundreds of stinging tentacles," he says, his voice gaining momentum. "And some species can even clone themselves. It's called strobilation!" he says, his eye glued to the book. His voice is monotone, but the enthusiasm is clear as he shares his newfound knowledge. "That's so cool, Plankton!" Sponge Bob exclaims. "I had no idea!" Plankton nods. "Jellyfish book," he says again, his voice still a monotone, but his tone is less flat. Karen and Sponge Bob share a hopeful look. Plankton's intense focus on jellyfish seems to be providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos of his new reality. "I think Plankton might just become the smartest jellyfish expert in Bikini Bottom," Karen says trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe one day we can go jellyfishing together," Sponge Bob says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods, his gaze flicking to Sponge Bob before returning to the book. "Jellyfishing," he repeats. "But Plankton, remember jellyfishing can be dangerous if they sting" Karen says gently with concern. Plankton's antennae twitch. "Dangerous," he repeats, his eye still on the book. "Jellyfish sting, but Plankton have plan." He flips through the pages, stopping at an image of a jellyfish in a jar. "Jellyfish in jar," he says, tapping the picture. "Safe jellyfish." Karen and Sponge Bob exchange a look. "You wanna keep jellyfish in a jar, Plankton?" Sponge Bob asks, voice tentative. Plankton nods vigorously. "Jellyfish in jar, safe jellyfish," he says, his excitement palpable. Sponge Bob leans closer to the book, his curiosity piqued. "What else does the book say, Plankton?" Plankton starts reading off the index and page numbers, his voice a monotone yet steady stream of information. "Jellyfish page 12. Nematocysts, page 34. Jellyfish reproduction, page 67," he recites, his antennae twitching with each number. Sponge Bob leans in closer, fascinated by Plankton's sudden wealth of knowledge. "How do you remember all of that?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Good memory," he says, his voice still flat but with a hint of pride. "Plankton read book." Karen nods, her gaze soft. "Yes, you read the book," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "You've learned so much about jellyfish." Plankton's antennae quiver with excitement as he flips through the pages. "Jellyfish book," he murmurs, his gaze alight with a passion that Karen hadn't seen in him since before the accident. "You know, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, leaning closer to the book. "Maybe we could start a jellyfish club. Just you, me, and Karen. We could learn all about them together." Plankton's antennae stand at attention at the idea. "Jellyfish club," he repeats, his voice a mix of excitement and skepticism. "With Karen and Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says with a smile, her voice filled with hope. Plankton nods, his antennae moving with the rhythm of his thoughts. "Jellyfish club," he murmurs, the words rolling around in his head like a treasure found at the bottom of the sea. "Yea Plankton who knew, easy as pie!" "Pie?" he repeated, the word echoing in the room. "Pi, 3.14159265358979323846..." His voice grew in confidence as he recited the digits, his eye glazing over as he fell into a rhythm that seemed almost meditative. Karen and Sponge Bob stared at him in amazement as he rattled off the numbers, his monotone delivery a stark contrast to the awe in their expressions. "Plankton, that's incredible!" Karen exclaimed with astonishment. "Pi, yes," Plankton said unwavering. "Circle's ratio." Sponge Bob's eyes went wide. "How?" "Pi," Plankton began, his antennae quivering slightly as he found his rhythm. "The ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. 3.14159265358979323846..." He recited the digits as if they were the most natural thing in the world, his voice steady and unwavering. Karen and Sponge Bob watched in amazement as Plankton's eye took on a faraway look, his focus solely on the mathematical constant that held the secrets of the universe's geometry. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight of Plankton's newfound passion. "It's incredible how you can remember all of that," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "Remember pi," Plankton said, his antennae still quivering with excitement. "Easy for Plankton." "Wow, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his eyes sparkling with amazement. "You're a math genius!" Plankton's antennae twitched slightly at the compliment.
THE LIFE OF UNITY iv (Autistic author) Kevin's smirk is long gone, replaced by a look of shock and regret. "I... I had no idea," he stammers. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know." Plankton's antennae quiver. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you hurt Plankton." Sponge Bob's protectively around Plankton, who is now visibly upset. "You hurt Plankton's feelings," he says, his voice firm but not unkind. "You see, Plankton had an accident. He's not the same as before. He nearly broke his skull on a cash register at the Krusty Krab. It changed him." Kevin's expression shifts from shock to disbelief. "What do you mean, 'changed him'?" he asks, his tentacles quivering slightly. "He has autism now," Sponge Bob says simply, never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "It's ok, Plankton," he murmurs, tightening around the tiny plankton. "You're still you." Kevin's eyes widen, the reality of the situation sinking in. "Oh my...," he whispers, his tentacles dropping to his sides. "I had no idea." Plankton's voice filled with accusation. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you didn't know. You didn't care." Kevin's eyes are wide. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's cutting off Kevin's apology. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye flashing with pain. "Kevin not care." "I'm sorry, Plankton. I didn't mean to be so cruel." But Plankton's unyielding. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye still brimming with unshed tears. "You didn't know. You no care." Kevin's smugness evaporates as the weight of his own words crashes down on him. The realization that his careless jests have caused such pain is written all over his face. His eyes are wide with horror, his tentacles trembling. "I'm sorry," he whispers, starting to touch Plankton. But Plankton recoils at the touch, his antennae quivering violently, his monotone voice filled with panic. "NO!" he squeaks, his one eye wide with fear. "Kevin, no touch!" Kevin's tentacles jerk back as if burned, his eyes filled with shock and remorse. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, his voice thick with regret. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to..." "Kevin, no touch," he repeats, his one eye flashing. "Plankton not like that." "I didn't know," he whispers, his eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "I'm so sorry." But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of the fear he feels. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye fixed on the sea cucumber, "you didn't know. You don't care." Sponge Bob's placing himself between Plankton and the sea cucumber. "Kevin," he says firmly with a newfound resolve. "You need to apologize to Plankton. What you said was not okay." Kevin's tentacles quiver, his eyes darting from Sponge Bob to Plankton's trembling form. "I'm... I'm sorry," he stammers, his smugness replaced by genuine contrition. "I didn't know. I didn't mean it like that." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice still echoing the pain of the insult. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye narrowed, "you hurt Plankton." Kevin's expression falls, the full impact of his words hitting him like a brick wall. He takes a step back, his tentacles drooping. "I didn't know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had... you know." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and pain. "Kevin," he murmurs, his monotone voice strained. "Kevin hurt Plankton. Not funny." Kevin's tentacles twitch, his expression a mix of shock and discomfort. "Look, I didn't know," he says, his voice quivering. "I'm sorry. I just..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice cutting through the awkward silence. "Space," he murmurs, his one eye pleading. Kevin creeps up closer. "Space? What..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and fear, his monotone voice a sad echo of the pain Kevin's words have caused. "Plankton," he murmurs, his one eye wide with desperation. "Alone." Kevin still doesn't understand. "You're not alone," he starts, reaching out. But Plankton's antennae quiver more fiercely, his monotone voice filled with a rare urgency. "No," he murmurs, his one eye darting around. "Space." "I don't underst--" But Plankton's filled with a desperation Kevin had never heard before. "Space," he murmurs again, more forcefully this time. "Kevin, go." "Go to outer space? But..." "Space," Plankton repeats more insistently, his eye frantic. Kevin's with confusion. "But, Plankton we're in the middle of the jellyfish fields." But Plankton's antennae quiver with urgency, his monotone voice unwavering. "Space," he murmurs, his one eye pleading. "Now." "I don't..." Kevin starts, grabbing Plankton's hand. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, and he pulls away, his monotone voice rising. "SPACE!" he shouts, his eye flashing with fury. Startled, Kevin takes a step back. "Where in outer space?" But Plankton's antennae quiver with impatience, his monotone voice tight. "Any space," he cries. "Just go." Kevin's tentacles twitch, his smugness forgotten. "But... but what about the jellyfish? Oh do you mean any planet.." He says, absent mindedly putting his hand on Plankton's back. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, and he jumps away. "NO TOUCH!" he screams, his monotone voice cracking with emotion. "PLANKTON. NEED. SPACE!" Kevin's tentacles recoil as if stung, his eyes wide with shock. "I'm sorry," he stammers, taking a step back. "I can't fly a rocket to space.." But Plankton's antennae quiver with rage. "Any space," he repeats, his one eye glaring. "Away." Kevin's tentacles hang limp, his smugness shattered by the depth of Plankton's pain. "But, Plankton, we can't leave Earth without..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with fury, his monotone voice a whip crack. "Any space," he repeats, his one eye narrowed. "Now." Kevin's tentacles retract, his smugness gone. "Any planet other than Earth? I'd like to help but..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with frustration, his monotone voice cutting through the confusion. "Not space," he murmurs, his one eye blazing with anger. "Space." Kevin's tentacles tremble, his smile fading into a look of fear. "I can't get outer space without a rocket?" he says, taking a step back. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, his monotone voice a thunderclap in the stillness. "No rocket," he murmurs, his one eye flashing. "Space. Now." Kevin's tentacles quiver, his smugness replaced by fear. "But Plankton," he stammers, taking a step back, "we can't just go to space without..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with rage, his monotone voice a whip crack. "Space," he repeats, his one eye narrowed. "Now." Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced by a look of pure terror. "But Plankton, I can't just leave the sea," he says, his voice shaking. But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and desperation, his monotone voice a thunderclap in the quiet waters. "Space," he repeats unwavering. Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced by a look of fear as he tries to comprehend Plankton's words. "But Plankton," he stammers, "you can't survive in space. It's not possible." But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, his monotone voice a monotone shout. "Space," he repeats, his one eye flashing with desperation. "Away from here." Kevin's tentacles retract, his smugness dissolving in to confusion. "But Plankton, we're in the middle of jellyfish fields," he says, his voice trembling. "We can't just..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and desperation, his monotone voice a monotone shout. "SPACE!" he repeats, his one eye flashing. "Kevin go now!" Kevin's tentacles twitch, his smugness dissipating like smoke in the face of Plankton's distress. "But Plankton I don't..." he starts, taking a cautious step back. Plankton breathes in and gathers his words together, his antennae quivering with the effort of controlling his emotions. "Kevin JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouts, his monotone voice crackling with anger. Kevin's tentacles quiver in understanding, his smugness evaporating like mist in the sun. "Oh," he says, his voice small and sad. "You mean personal space.." Plankton's antennae quiver slightly, his monotone voice softening. "Yes," he murmurs, his one eye blinking rapidly. "Space." Sponge Bob nods. "Okay, Kevin," he says firmly. "You need to give Plankton some space right now. He's going through a tough time." Kevin's smugness is completely gone, replaced by a look of genuine concern. He takes a step back. "I had no idea," he whispers. "I'm really sorry. I'll go. Bye."
โ€œ๐”‰๐”ฉ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฅ ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฑ ๐”Ÿ๐”ถ ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ง๐”ž๐”ด๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ฅ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ค๐”ข๐”ฏ ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฃ. ๐”„๐”ค๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ถ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ฆ๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ค๐”ฏ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ก ๐”ž๐”ซ๐”ก ๐”ค๐”ฉ๐”ฒ๐”ฑ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ถ. โ„Œ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฅ๐”ž๐”ฑ๐”ฅ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ž๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ค๐”ฅ๐”ฑ.โ€
KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY iv (Autistic author) Sandy feels the full weight of her words crash down upon her. The accusations she had thrown at Plankton now felt like sharp stones in her own stomach. Her mind reels as she tries to comprehend what she had just learned. Autism? Plankton? How could she have been so blind, so cruel? Her gaze falls to the floor, avoiding Karen's. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice thick with guilt. "I didn't know." Karen nods, her own emotions swirling. "But we need to be more careful with him." Sandy's eyes are glued to the floor, her tail flicking nervously. "I didn't mean to hurt him," she says, her voice small and ashamed. "I just thought he was being weird." Karen nods, understanding. "I know," she says, her voice gentle. "But now we know better, and we have to help him." She moves towards the bedroom, her steps determined. "Let's go check on him." They enter the room quietly. Karen's optical sensors scan his tiny form, noticing the slight rise and fall of his chest. He's asleep, she realizes, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. Sandy's gaze follows hers, her expression a mix of regret and curiosity. She's never seen Plankton like this before, his features softer, almost peaceful in repose. "Is he okay?" she asks, her voice a whisper. Karen nods, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. "He's sleeping," she says, her voice filled with tenderness. "It's been a big day for him." Sandy steps closer, her gaze taking in Plankton's sleeping features. His face, usually twisted with plotting and schemes, is now slack with exhaustion. His eye, usually alive with cunning, is closed, and his breaths come in deep, even snores, his mouth slightly agape. "What do we do now?" Sandy asks, her voice hushed. Karen sits beside him on the bed, her hand still on his shoulder. "We help him," she says, her voice firm. "We learn about his autism and how we can support him." They spend the next few moments in silence, the air heavy with the weight of what has been said. Karen's hand continues to gently stroke Plankton's shoulder. Sandy sits down on the opposite side of the bed. Her gaze is fixed on Plankton, her thoughts racing. She had known him for so long, and yet she had never considered this possibility. "What does this mean for him?" she whispers, her voice filled with concern. Karen sighs, her hand still stroking Plankton's shoulder. "It means we'll have to make some changes," she says softly. "He'll need routines, and patience, and understanding." Sandy nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can do that," she says, her voice filled with determination. "But what about... us?" Karen looks up, her gaze meeting Sandy's. "What do you mean?" she asks, her hand pausing in its soothing motion. Sandy swallows, her eyes still on Plankton. "Our friendship," she says. "How do we handle this without making him feel... different?" Karen nods, understanding her concern. "We just need to be there for him," she says. "He's still the same Plankton, just with some new challenges." They sit in silence for a moment, the only sound the rhythm of Plankton's snores. Sandy reaches out tentatively, her paw hovering over his arm. "Is it ok to touch him?" she asks. Karen nods. "Yes, Sandy. Just be gentle," she whispers. Sandy's paw touches Plankton's arm, her touch light and tentative. He stirs slightly, but doesn't wake. She leaves her paw there, offering comfort without intrusion. Karen watches them with a mix of love and fear for the future. Plankton's autism was still a mystery to them, a labyrinth they were just beginning to navigate. She knows it won't be easy, but she's determined to be by his side. "We're a team," she says, squeezing Plankton's shoulder. Sandy nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "A team," she repeats, her voice filled with resolve. For the first time since the diagnosis, the three of them are united in a common goal: to understand and support Plankton as he navigates his new reality. Sandy and Karen exchange a look, each one filled with a determination that mirrors the other. They've been friends through thick and thin, through Krabby Patty heists and jellyfish stings, and now they're facing a challenge none of them had ever anticipated. Sandy's paw remains on Plankton's arm, her touch steady and reassuring. Plankton stirred, his sleep disturbed by the unfamiliar weight of Sandy's paw on his arm. His eye fluttered open, and he was met with the sight of Sandy and Karen, their faces contorted with a mix of concern and confusion. He sat up quickly, his body jolting with fear. "Plankton, it's ok," Karen soothes, her hand reaching out to calm him. "You're safe." "Karen sad?" he asks, his voice cracking. Sandy's paw tightens on his arm, which makes Plankton feel uncomfortable enough to get him to snap at her. "What Sandy want?" he asks, his voice sharp, his body tense with anxiety. Sandy's eyes fill with tears. "I didn't mean to make you upset," she says, her voice shaking. "I just didn't know." Plankton's gaze flits between them, trying to read their expressions, but his brain struggles to interpret their complex emotions. "Karen sad?" he repeats, his voice a mix of fear and confusion. Karen's hand moves to cover Sandy's, her grip firm but gentle. "No, Plankton," she says, her voice soothing. "We're just concerned about you." Sandy takes a deep breath, forcing back her tears. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Plankton's gaze flickers between them, his mind racing to understand the situation. "No hurt," he says, his voice shaky. "Sandy say Karen sad. No sad." Karen's circuits pulse with a mixture of relief and sadness. "Sandy didn't mean it, Plankton," she says, her voice filled with compassion. "We're all just trying to understand what's happening." Sandy's eyes are cast down, her paws fidgeting in her lap. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice heavy with regret. "I didn't know." She grabs Plankton in a hug, unaware of how the tight embrace might feel to him. Plankton stiffens, his senses getting overwhelmed. "No touch," he says, his voice tight. Sandy quickly releases him, her eyes wide with apology. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to help." Karen nods, her gaze softening. "We all do," she says. "But we have to learn how to help in ways that don't overwhelm him." Plankton's eye darts around the room, with the need to regulate himself. He starts to rock in a rhythmic motion, a self-soothing behavior his new autism craves. The sensation of his own movements helps to calm the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling within him. Karen notices the change immediately and nods understandingly. "It's ok, Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "You do what you need to do." Sandy watches, her curiosity piqued by the rhythmic rocking "What's he doing?" she asks, her voice hushed. Karen sighs, her gaze filled with understanding. "It's his way of self-soothing," she explains. "It's called stimming." Sandy's eyes widen, taking in Plankton's rhythmic rocks. "Stimming?" she repeats. "What's that?" Karen nods, her voice calm and patient. "It's a way for him to regulate his sensory input," she explains. "It helps him feel safe and in control." Sandy watches. He starts to hum, a low buzz that resonates in the quiet room, his way of finding comfort in the chaos of his thoughts. "It's ok," Karen whispers, her hand on his shoulder. "We're here." Plankton's eye lock onto her hand, the pressure of her touch offering a semblance of comfort. He starts to rock back and forth again. The movement calms him slightly. Sandy watches. She had never seen Plankton like this before. The sharpness of her words from earlier stings her now, as she realizes the depth of his distress. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice quiet. "I didn't know." Plankton's humming turns to a soft melody, his body still moving in a soothing pattern. The words echo in his head, a reminder of the world's expectations he can never quite meet. Sandy watches him, her own world now forever changed. She had always known Plankton to be eccentric, but this was different. This was real. Her mind reels with questions and fears. How would this affect their friendship? Could they ever return to the easy banter they once shared? Would he still be the same friend she had always known? But as she watches him stim, the reality of the situation starts to set in. Plankton was still Plankton, but with a new set of rules and a new way of seeing the world. Sandy makes a silent vow to learn those rules, to understand his world as much as he had tried to understand hers.
๐”’๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ข๐”ถ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ญ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐”ญ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฉ ๐”’๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฑ๐”ข๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐”ข ๐”ข๐”ญ๐”ฅ๐”ข๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”˜๐”ซ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ซ๐”ฐ๐” ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฐ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”—๐”ด๐”ฌ ๐”ฐ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ฐ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ช๐”ฒ๐”ซ๐”ฆ๐”ฌ๐”ซ. ๐”—๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ญ๐”ฏ๐”ฌ๐”ช๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ฃ ๐”ถ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ฐ ๐”ด๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”ฉ๐”ถ๐”ฏ๐”ฆ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฉ ๐”œ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ฑ๐”ฌ๐”ฒ๐” ๐”ฅ ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ฉ๐”ฑ ๐”ช๐”ถ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ๐”ฆ๐” ๐”ž๐”ฉ ๐”ถ๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ณ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐” ๐”ข๐”ฏ๐”ž๐”ฉ ๐”„๐”ฉ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ช๐”ž๐”ก๐”ข ๐”ช๐”ข ๐”ฃ๐”ข๐”ข๐”ฉ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ณ๐”ข ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”‰๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ ๐”ช๐”ข; ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ณ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ. ๐”’๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ข๐”ถ๐”ข๐”ฐ ๐”ช๐”ข๐”ฑ ๐”ž๐”ค๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ ๐”ž๐”ฑ ๐”ข๐”ซ๐” ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”’๐”ฒ๐”ฏ ๐”ช๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฑ ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ก๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ซ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ ๐”ข๐”ต๐”ญ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”˜๐”ซ๐”ฃ๐”ž๐”ฆ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ฃ๐”ฒ๐”ฉ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฐ๐”ฐ ๐”ฌ๐”ซ ๐”ก๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐” ๐”ฉ๐”ฌ๐”ฐ๐”ฒ๐”ฏ๐”ข ๐”‰๐”ฌ๐”ฌ๐”ฉ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ๐”ฅ ๐”ช๐”ข; ๐”ฆ๐”ฑ ๐”ฆ๐”ฐ ๐”ž๐”ฉ๐”ฉ ๐”ฑ๐”ฅ๐”ข ๐”ฐ๐”ž๐”ช๐”ข.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 26, 2011 Organization Tip: Bucket Budgets Trying to organize finances can be frustrating and stressful. Budgets are about as much fun as dental work, but how can we track our spending without them? My solution is a percentage budget, or what I call my Bucket Budget. It has been such a huge stress relief for me that I thought I'd share it. The details of percentage budgets vary, but the general idea is the same. Your income (based on gross or net) is divided into three or four categories or "buckets" of money: taxes (if basing on gross income) savings living expenses fun money As long as money is going in and out of the appropriate buckets, you don't need to track every dollar. And if you set it up so your buckets don't mix, it's like putting your finances on autopilot. To get started, determine how much money you need for your living expenses, which include all of the basic costs of living -- mortgage or rent payment, transportation, utilities, food, etc. -- that you have to pay every month. Base this amount on recent spending history. BE REALISTIC. Add a little for contingencies if you want. Whew! That concludes the complex calculations portion of this process. You can use round percentages for the other categories. Let's say your net income (take-home pay) is $3000 per month. You've determined your living expenses are $2100, or 70% of your monthly pay. That leaves 30%. Most financial experts I've read suggest putting 20% into savings, so we'll go with that. That leaves you with 10% ($300) for you to spend on whatever you want. In summary, your breakdown is savings 20% living expenses 70% fun money 10% Now to put those finances on autopilot. Set up two or three bank accounts: savings checking for living expenses checking for fun money (you can skip this if you prefer to use cash for your fun money) When you receive your paycheck, divide the money into the appropriate buckets. You can use direct deposit from your employer or set up recurring transfers to make this completely automatic. deposit 20% ($600) into your savings account deposit 70% ($2,100) into your living expenses account deposit 10% ($300) into your fun money account (or take it as cash if you prefer) Because your setup is automatically covering savings and living expenses, you can spend your bucket of fun money -- every cent if you want to -- without worrying about how it's going to impact your financial situation. :D Your budgeted percentages may vary depending on your personal financial situation and goals. If you live outside the U.S., you might need to change the categories. But I think the general principle can be useful in most cases. Posted by J.Bane
Music, Arts, Crafts, Recipes and Fashion blogging from a Gothic/Dark Romantic perspective. Saturday 26 November 2011 Cliques, Judging and Subcultures Most goths, at some point, will have been judged for how they look. At the darkest end there are things like when people get beaten up and even killed for how they look, and at the other there's assumptions made such as "goths are rude and pretentious" etc. We don't like being judged for being goths. We shouldn't do it to other groups. Just because someone wears fashionable clothes, that doesn't make them snobby and elitist about those who don't. Just because someone wears over-sized plastic-rim glasses and plimsols does not make them vacant and pretentious. Just because someone is wearing tracksuit bottoms and hooded jumper, that does not make them rude and violent (maybe they're going to the gym!). Just because someone wears skinny jeans and has dyed black hair does not mean they are histrionic attention-seekers. Goths aren't inherently nicer than everyone, that's why I have to make this post. Really, there is no reason for me to elaborate this into a vast wall of text. Yes, there are a disproportionate amount of certain types of bad behaviour in certain groups which is why some of these stereotypes exist in the first place, but even if there are more thugs that wear tracksuit bottoms and hooded jumpers than wear designer jeans, that doesn't mean that wearing a tracksuit makes someone a thug. That same logic goes for the other things. I may not LIKE any of those other styles, and think that a lot of them look terribly hideous, but I deal with that by NOT WEARING THEM and wearing things I don't think look hideous. I do not hate other styles, although I do think they are sometimes rather amusing (like when people wear logo or slogan t-shirts and have no idea what they represent, or when they walk around with their trousers halfway down their rears) but I also realise I'm probably amusing trying to run for the bus in platform boots. Other people are entitled to the same freedom of expression as we are.
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