Learncore Emojis & Text

𝓫𝓾𝓼 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓹 𝓸𝓯 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐥, 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 & 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓾𝓹 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 -𝓲𝓷 𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

𝔐𝔶 𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰𝔫'𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢. 𝔏𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔡, 𝔦𝔱 𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔱, ℑ 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔡, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔶 ℑ 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔞 𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫.“

ℑ 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔡…. 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ'𝔪 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 ℑ 𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡… 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔤𝔬 𝔣𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℑ 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡𝔫'𝔱 𝔤𝔬 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔣𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯… 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐀 ; 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 .

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.

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.

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."

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 21 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ Plankton's antennae twitch in his sleep. Chip watches him, with love. Then he stirs, his antennae flickering as he wakes. He blinks, his eye focusing on his son's face. Chip's screen illuminates with hope, a soft glow that fills the room. Plankton's antennae quiver as he registers. "Hi, Dad," Chip whispers, his voice shaky. Plankton's hand squeezes Chip's gently. "Hi," he manages, his voice raspy with sleep and unshed tears. The silence between them is still thick, but there's a thread of something else, something new. "Dad," Chip says, his voice a tentative whisper. "Can we go to the science fair at my school?" Plankton's antennae twitch, a sign of contemplation. Chip's eyes are wide, his screen flickering with excitement and fear. He's not sure if it's a good idea, but the hope in his voice is undeniable. Plankton considers the question, his antennae twitching as he processes the sensory onslaught of a school science fair. The noise, the lights, the crowds. It's a minefield for his overactive senses, but his son's hope is a beacon. "Okay," he murmurs, the word barely audible. Chip's screen illuminates with joy. Plankton sits up. "Chip listen, I uhm– I wan-nt t-to s-say, to t-tell y-you..." Plankton shakes his head. He can't get the words out, his mouth a clumsy mess of tongue-tied syllables. His autism, a wall between his thoughts and speech. Chip's smile falters, his heart sinking. "It's okay, Dad," he says, his voice soothing. "You don't have to." But he sees the pain in Plankton's eye, the desperate attempt to communicate. "Chip, about your, about the b-box..." Plankton's antennae wave with frustration, his body a testament to the difficulty of his words. "The box, Dad?" Chip asks, his eyes searching Plankton's face for answers. Plankton nods, his antennae drooping with the effort. "You liked it?" Chip's voice is hopeful. Plankton nods. "I-I'm s-still h-hurt from your earlier taunts, a-and I-I-I-I… I'm t-trying to f-forgive, for— I uh, it-t h-hurts but I d-do like the box. So, s-so thank y-you." The words come out in a jumbled mess, a tapestry of stammers and stops, but the sentiment is clear. Chip's heart swells with warmth. He understands the struggle, the fight for each syllable, the dance of emotion and cognition that's so unique to Plankton. Chip's screen flickers with a smile, his eyes never leaving his dad's. "Dad, thank you for understanding," he says, his voice gentle. Plankton's eye closes in relief, his antennae twitching. "I know it's hard," Chip continues. "But I'm here for you. We'll figure it out." Plankton nods, his antennae rising slightly. Plankton puts the new box from Chip for keeping it in the car. Karen drives them to Chip's school. She parks the car and follows them into the school.

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 10 Plankton wiped the rest of his tears as Chip took in his dad's story, his eyes wide. "So, you've had to deal with that your whole life?" Chip asked, his voice filled with a newfound empathy. "Yeah," Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching slightly. "But it's not all bad. There's beauty in being different, you know. And your mom and I, we've learned to make it work." Chip looked at the plush bear in his dad's hand, now understanding its significance. "What happens during a seizure, Dad?" Plankton took a deep breath. "My brain gets overwhelmed, like too much data coming in at once. It's like a circuit breaker trips and everything goes haywire. My body can't handle it, so it shuts down a bit. It's like my brain's way of hitting the reset button." "Does it hurt?" Chip asked, his eyes searching his dad's. "No, not physically," Plankton said, his antennae twitching slightly. "But it's scary, and it can leave me feeling really tired. And sometimes it's embarrassing, because it happens when I'm not expecting it and I might act a bit strange after. Like, I might not recognize anything for a little bit. But it's like coming out of a daydream. You're just... there, but not quite. And then the real world hits as it passes. And most of the time I don't even know it's happening until it's over." Chip nodded, his hand tightening around the bear. "But why don't people understand, Dad?" "I guess because autism is internal," Plankton explained. "People can't see it. They don't know what's going on inside my head. They just see me acting differently, and that annoys them. They don't know how to react, I guess. It's a spectrum," Plankton continued. "There are lots of people like that. And some have it a lot worse. They can't talk or can't do things that come easy to me. It's just how their brains are." Chip frowned, deep in thought. "But you let Mom hug you but, not me; is that part of it?" Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping. "Sometimes, Chip," he said. "It's about comfort and safety. With Mom, we know what to expect, but with you, it's still new. It's not that I don't love you or don't want to hug you. It's just... hard sometimes. Certain touches can be too much." Chip's eyes searched his father's face. "But, I'm your son," he said, his voice small. Plankton nodded. "And I love you more than anything," he replied. "But sometimes, my brain gets confused by touch, especially when it's unexpected. It's not because I don't want to be close to you, it's because it's too much for me to handle. And there are days where it's easier than others. But she knows what to do, and she understands when I can't take much more." Chip looked down at the bear, his eyes filling with tears. "I don't want to make it worse," he whimpered. "Just ask before you touch me, ok? And if I say no, don't take it to personally. It's not about you, Chip; it's about what I can handle, what my body craves." Karen then came to check on them. "How are we doing?" she asked, her voice gentle. "I see you're awake.." Plankton nodded weakly. "We're okay," he said. "Chip and I were just... talking." Karen's gaze moved from her husband to her son, noticing the bear in Chip's hand. "Oh?" Karen's eyebrows raised in suspicion. "Yeah," Chip said, his voice steadier now. "I just want to know more about... about Dad." Karen sat on the bed's edge. "You're growing up," she murmured. "Ok," Plankton said. "But keep it simple. I'm pretty tired." Chip nods as Karen moves closer to them. "So, Dad, what do you want me to do when you have a seizure?" Plankton's antennae twitched in thought. "Just stay calm," he instructed. "And keep me safe. Sometimes, I might lash out without knowing it, so keep yourself safe too. And if you can, help me find something to fidget with, like offering me the bear. But even if it's not at home, inform your mother. Perhaps find a quiet spot." Chip nodded, his mind racing with information. "What about when you move your hands like, is that because of it?" He turns to Karen. "Yes," Karen said, taking his hand in hers. "It's called stimming. It's a way for your dad to self-soothe or if jittery. It's usually when really emotional or just restless. And he does it to help manage the input his brain's receiving." Chip's eyes widen. "So it's for fun; can I try?" But Plankton shook his head. "No Chip, it's not a toy for you.." Karen squeezed Chip's shoulder gently. "It's okay to ask questions, honey," she said. "But remember, everyone's experience is different. For your dad, he can stim by fidgeting with his hands or talking to himself. He might hum or rock. But he doesn't like it to be mimicked. It's not for us to point out or make comments on, unless to offer support or ask if he'd like help. It's just something he does for himself, not for us." Chip nodded, his gaze back on Plankton. "And what about those moments where you just... zone out?" Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "Those are called absence seizures," he said. "They're like staring spells. They can happen anywhere, anytime. It's like my brain pauses for a bit. It can be unsettling, but they usually don't last long. Just stay calm and let me know when I come back, okay?" "Okay," Chip said, nodding. "What about when you get upset and repeat words?" Plankton sighed. "That's called echolalia," he explained. "It's when I repeat what I've heard, or something I've said before. It's a way for me to cope with stress or anxiety. Sometimes, it's just easier than finding new words. But usually it's to process verbal directions. Palilalia is all part of the autism spectrum." Karen watched the two of them, warmth spreading through her heart.

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https://www.nps.gov/klgo/learn/historyculture/upload/gold-rush-cemetery-508.pdf

Saturday 20 October 2012 Teacher's Day SMS Teacher's Day SMS → уσυ αяє тнє вєѕт тєα¢нєя ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂. ωнєяєνєя ι мαу gσ ιη му ℓιƒє, ι ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ яємємвєя тнαт ι нα∂ αη єχ¢єℓℓєηт gυι∂є ιη тнє ƒσям σƒ α тєα¢нєя, уσυ. → ωнєη ιт ¢σмєѕ тσ тєα¢нιηg ησ σηє ¢αη ¢σмρєтє ωιтн уσυ. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу. → ∂єαя тєα¢нєя, тнαηкѕ ƒσя мαкιηg υѕ ωнαт ωє αяє тσ∂αу. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу → уσυ gυι∂є∂ мє ωнєη ι ωαѕ ℓσѕт уσυ ѕυρσятє∂ мє ωнєη ι ωαѕ ωєαк уσυ нανє єηℓιgнтєηє∂ мє αℓℓ тняσυgн.. → тσ∂αу . ωнαт ι αм ιѕ נυѕт вє¢αυѕє σƒ уσυ ѕιя нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу → ι мαу ησт ѕαу ιт αℓωαуѕ. вυт, ι мєαη ιт ωнєηєνєя ι ѕαу ιт. тнαηк уσυ тєα¢нєя ƒσя αℓℓ тнє тнιηgѕ тєα¢нєя нανє ∂σηє ƒσя мє. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу! → уσυ αяє α ωση∂єяƒυℓ тєα¢нєя ωнσ ρяσνє∂ тнαт ℓєαяηιηg ¢αη вє נσуσυѕ αη∂ ρℓєαѕαηт єχρєяιєη¢є ωιѕнιηg уσυ α нαρρу тєα¢нєя’ѕ ∂αу → ι ƒσυη∂ gυι∂αη¢є, ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ, ∂ιѕ¢ιρℓιηє αη∂ ℓσνє, єνєяутнιηg, ιη σηє ρєяѕση. αη∂ тнαт ρєяѕση ιѕ уσυ (ηαмє σƒ уσυя тєα¢нєя) “нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу!” → тєα¢нιηg ѕнσυℓ∂ вє ƒυℓℓ σƒ ι∂єαѕ ιηѕтєα∂ σƒ ѕтυƒƒє∂ ωιтн ƒα¢тѕ. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу → тнє αωαя∂ ƒσя тнє мσѕт ωση∂єяƒυℓ тєα¢нєя нαѕ вєєη ∂є¢ℓαяє∂ αη∂ ιт gσєѕ тσ уσυ. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу!! → ωє αяє ƒσятυηαтє ωє нα∂ α тєα¢нєя αѕ ωση∂єяƒυℓ ℓσνιηg αη∂ ¢αяιηg αѕ уσυ.... нαρρу тєα¢нєя\'ѕ ∂αу...!! → тнαηкѕ ƒσя вєιηg α тяυє мєηтσя σƒ συя нєαятѕ. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу → ωє ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє тнαηкƒυℓ тσ уσυ ƒσя αℓℓ тнє нαя∂ ωσяк αη∂ єƒƒσятѕ уσυ нανє ρυт ιη, ƒσя є∂υ¢αтιηg υѕ. “нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу!” → тєα¢нєя ιѕ α ρєяѕση ωнσ αℓωαуѕ нєℓρѕ єνєяувσ∂у тσ gєт тнє кησωℓє∂gє αη∂ αℓωαуѕ ѕтαη∂ѕ вєѕι∂є тнє ѕтυ∂єηтѕ ωнєη тнєу нανє ρяσвℓємѕ тнαηкѕ ƒσя вєιηg тнєяє мα∂αм/ѕιя…. “нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу” → тнє ∂яєαм вєgιηѕ ωιтн α тєα¢нєя ωнσ вєℓιєνєѕ ιη уσυ, ωнσ тυgѕ αη∂ ρυѕнєѕ αη∂ ℓєα∂ѕ уσυ тσ тнє ηєχт ρℓαтєαυ, ѕσмєтιмєѕ ρσкιηg уσυ ωιтн α ѕнαяρ ѕтι¢к ¢αℓℓє∂ “тяυтн. → мαу ησт ѕαу ιт αℓωαуѕ вυт, ι мєαη ιт ωнєηєνєя ι ѕαу ιт. тнαηк уσυ тєα¢нєя ƒσя αℓℓ тнє тнιηgѕ уσυ нανє ∂σηє ƒσя мє. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу! → тнє тяυє тєα¢нєя ∂єƒєη∂ѕ нιѕ ρυριℓѕ αgαιηѕт нιѕ σωη ρєяѕσηαℓ ιηƒℓυєη¢є. нє ιηѕριяєѕ ѕєℓƒ-∂ιѕтяυѕт. нє gυι∂єѕ тнєιя єуєѕ ƒяσм нιмѕєℓƒ тσ тнє ѕριяιт тнαт qυι¢кєηѕ нιм. нє ωιℓℓ нανє ησ ∂ιѕ¢ιρℓє. → α gσσ∂ тєα¢нєя ιѕ α мαѕтєя σƒ ѕιмρℓιƒι¢αтιση αη∂ αη єηєму σƒ ѕιмρℓιѕм. → тнє ωαу уσυ тєα¢н… тнє кησωℓє∂gє уσυ ѕнαяє… тнє ¢αяє уσυ тαкє… тнє ℓσνє уσυ ѕнσωєя.. мαкєѕ уσυ… тнє ωσяℓ∂’ѕ вєѕт тєα¢нєя… “нαρρу тєα¢нєя’ѕ ∂αу!” → яємємвєя αℓℓ ωσя∂ѕ нє ѕαу ωσя∂ѕ тσ мαкє уσυ ѕσ¢ιαℓ ωσя∂ѕ тσ мαкє уσυ ѕρє¢ιαℓ нє ιѕ συя тєα¢нєя нє ιѕ συя gυι∂є ℓєтѕ мαкє нιм ƒєєℓ ρяι∂є → тнє вєѕт тєα¢нєя ιѕ тнє σηє ωнσ ѕυggєѕтѕ яαтнєя тнαη ∂σgмαтιzєѕ, αη∂ ιηѕριяєѕ нιѕ ℓιѕтєηєя ωιтн тнє ωιѕн тσ тєα¢н нιмѕєℓƒ. → тнє ∂яєαм вєgιηѕ ωιтн α тєα¢нєя ωнσ вєℓιєνєѕ ιη уσυ, ωнσ тυgѕ αη∂ ρυѕнєѕ αη∂ ℓєα∂ѕ уσυ тσ тнє ηєχт ρℓαтєαυ, ѕσмєтιмєѕ ρσкιηg уσυ ωιтн α ѕнαяρ ѕтι¢к ¢αℓℓє∂ “тяυтн.” → тєα¢нιηg ιѕ тнє ρяσƒєѕѕιση тнαт тєα¢нєѕ αℓℓ тнє σтнєя ρяσƒєѕѕισηѕ. → ωє єχρє¢т тєα¢нєяѕ тσ нαη∂ℓє тєєηαgє ρяєgηαη¢у, ѕυвѕтαη¢є αвυѕє, αη∂ тнє ƒαιℓιηgѕ σƒ тнє ƒαмιℓу. тнєη ωє єχρє¢т тнєм тσ є∂υ¢αтє συя ¢нιℓ∂яєη → уσυ αяє ησт σηℓу συя тєα¢нєя уσυ αяє συя ƒяιєη∂, ρнιℓσѕσρнєя αη∂ gυι∂є αℓℓ мσℓ∂є∂ ιηтσ σηє ρєяѕση ωє ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє gяαтєƒυℓ ƒσя уσυя ѕυρρσят нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу! → ωє ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє тнαηкƒυℓ тσ уσυ ƒσя αℓℓ тнє нαя∂ ωσяк αη∂ єƒƒσятѕ уσυ нανє ρυт ιη, ƒσя є∂υ¢αтιηg υѕ. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу! → тєα¢нιηg ιѕ ℓєανιηg α νєѕтιgє σƒ σηє ѕєℓƒ ιη тнє ∂єνєℓσρмєηт σƒ αησтнєя. αη∂ ѕυяєℓу тнє ѕтυ∂єηт ιѕ α вαηк ωнєяє уσυ ¢αη ∂єρσѕιт уσυя мσѕт ρяє¢ισυѕ тяєαѕυяєѕ. → ωнєη ιт ¢σмєѕ тσ тєα¢нιηg ησ σηє ¢αη ¢σмρєтє ωιтн уσυ. нαρρу тєα¢нєяѕ ∂αу! → тєα¢нιηg ιѕ тнє σηℓу мαנσя σ¢¢υραтιση σƒ мαη ƒσя ωнι¢н ωє нανє ησт уєт ∂єνєℓσρє∂ тσσℓѕ тнαт мαкє αη ανєяαgє ρєяѕση ¢αραвℓє σƒ ¢σмρєтєη¢є αη∂ ρєяƒσямαη¢є. ιη тєα¢нιηg ωє яєℓу ση тнє “ηαтυяαℓѕ,” тнє σηєѕ ωнσ ѕσмєнσω кησω нσω тσ тєα¢н. → σηє ℓσσкѕ вα¢к ωιтн αρρяє¢ιαтιση тσ тнє вяιℓℓιαηт тєα¢нєяѕ, вυт ωιтн gяαтιтυ∂є тσ тнσѕє ωнσ тσυ¢нє∂ συя нυмαη ƒєєℓιηgѕ. тнє ¢υяяι¢υℓυм ιѕ ѕσ мυ¢н ηє¢єѕѕαяу яαω мαтєяιαℓ, вυт ωαямтн ιѕ тнє νιтαℓ єℓємєηт ƒσя тнє gяσωιηg ρℓαηт αη∂ ƒσя тнє ѕσυℓ σƒ тнє ¢нιℓ∂. → ιƒ α ∂σ¢тσя, ℓαωуєя, σя ∂єηтιѕт нα∂ 40 ρєσρℓє ιη нιѕ σƒƒι¢є αт σηє тιмє, αℓℓ σƒ ωнσм нα∂ ∂郃єяєηт ηєє∂ѕ, αη∂ ѕσмє σƒ ωнσм ∂ι∂η’т ωαηт тσ вє тнєяє αη∂ ωєяє ¢αυѕιηg тяσυвℓє, αη∂ тнє ∂σ¢тσя, ℓαωуєя, σя ∂єηтιѕт, ωιтнσυт αѕѕιѕтαη¢є, нα∂ тσ тяєαт тнєм αℓℓ ωιтн ρяσƒєѕѕισηαℓ єχ¢єℓℓєη¢є ƒσя ηιηє мσηтнѕ, тнєη нє мιgнт нανє ѕσмє ¢ση¢єρтιση σƒ тнє ¢ℓαѕѕяσσм тєα¢нєя’ѕ נσв. Posted by Kiran Bele at 21:56

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 ♥︎ 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 ♥︎ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ♥︎𝑖’𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑎𝑙s ♥︎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑗𝑜𝑦， 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑡ℎ ♥︎𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 ♥︎𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑤 ♥︎ 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 ♥︎𝐼’𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑟 ♥︎ 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑑𝑎𝑦 ♥︎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠 ♥︎ 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑛 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒 ♥︎ 𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 ♥︎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ♥︎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡

‘Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ 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 can…sense 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 “before their time” as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again I’ll see someone who’s basically a stoplight. Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. It’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 classmates’ 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...

୨୧ 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼 ୨୧ 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 — 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐲 🍃📚 𝟭. 𝗽𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲. 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀. 𝗱𝗼 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 + 𝗮𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝗻-𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝟮. 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿/𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝘇𝗲. 𝟯. 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝘀/𝗺𝗮𝗽𝘀/𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿, 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 (𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁). 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘁. 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝗻-𝗱𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲. 𝟰. 𝗱𝗼 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘇𝗲. 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀, 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲. 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲. 𝟱. 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗯𝗲 𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼𝘀, 𝗱𝗼𝗰𝘂𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗲𝘁𝗰. 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗰 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆. 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗹𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗱 𝗮𝗿𝗴𝘂𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀. 𝟲. 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆. 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴; 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹𝘀, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗽𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱𝘄𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱, 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 (𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿/𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿), 𝗲𝘁𝗰. 𝟳. 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. 𝟴. 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 (𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗻, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲/𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻). 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 . 𝟵. 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗦𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗿, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀/𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀. 𝗗𝗼 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗪𝗶𝗸𝗶𝗽𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗮. 𝟭𝟬. 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗿𝗲-𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗼𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗱𝗱 𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲. 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱/𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸.

Tuesday 6 November 2012 Cool SMS → ωнєη уσυ вєℓιєνє ιη ѕσмєσηє ∂єєρℓу, мιѕ-υη∂єяѕтαη∂ιηgѕ αяιѕє, вυт ∂ση’т ƒєєℓ ƒσя ιт… вє¢αυѕє ѕσмє мιѕ-υη∂єяѕтαη∂ιηgѕ αяє ηєє∂є∂ ƒσя gσσ∂ υη∂єяѕтαη∂ιηg.. → ιƒ ι ¢συℓ∂ ρυℓℓ ∂σωη тнє яαιηвσω ι ωσυℓ∂ ωяιтє υя ηαмє ωιтн ιт & ρυт ιт вα¢к ιη тнє ѕку тσ ℓєт єνєяувσ∂у кησω нσω ¢σℓσяƒυℓ му ℓιƒє ιѕ ωιтн α ƒяιєη∂ ℓιкє υ!! → тнιѕ ℓιƒє ιѕ тσσ ѕнσят тσ мαкє αη∂ α¢¢єℓєяαтє яєℓαтισηѕ, вυт ι ∂ση’т кησω ωну ρєσρℓє вяєαк тнє ∂єνєℓσρє∂ яєℓαтισηѕ. тнιѕ ℓιƒє ιѕ тσσ ѕнσят тσ ѕαу ѕσмєтнιηg тσ ℓσνє∂ σηєѕ, вυт ι ∂ση’т кησω ωну ρєσρℓє кєєρ ѕιℓєη¢є ƒσя α ℓσηg ρєяισ∂. тнιѕ ℓιƒє ιѕ тσσ ѕнσят тσ мαкє яєαℓ ƒяιєη∂ѕ, вυт ι ∂ση’т кησω ωну ρєσρℓє вяєαк ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρѕ. → ℓιƒє ιѕ ησт נυѕт ωαιтιηg ƒσя ѕσмєσηє ωнσ ιѕ мα∂є ƒσя уσυ. вυт ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓινιηg ƒσя ѕσмєσηє, ωнσ ℓινєѕ вє¢αυѕє σƒ уσυ. → ƒℓσωєяѕ ηєє∂ ѕυηѕнιηє, νισℓєтѕ ηєє∂ ∂єω, αℓℓ αηgєℓѕ ιη нєανєη кησω ι ηєє∂ υ. → ι ℓσνє ρнσтσѕ. вє¢αυѕє тнє вєѕт тнιηg αвσυт тнєм ιѕ тнєу ηєνєя ¢нαηgє, єνєη ωнєη тнє ρєσρℓє ιη тнєм ¢нαηgє “ωιℓℓιαм ѕнαкєѕρєαяє”. → ωє ℓσνє συяѕєℓƒ єνєη αƒтєя мαкιηg ѕσ мαηу мιѕтαкєѕ. тнєη нσω ¢αη ωє 4 тнєιя ѕмαℓℓ мιѕтαкєѕ? ѕтяαηgє вυт тяυє! ѕσ мαкє нαвιт σƒ ƒσяgινιηg. → єνєяу∂αу, єνєяуωнєяє, єνєяутιмє, ι мαу ησт вє ωιтн уσυ, вυт му тнιηкιηg, му ¢αяє, му ѕмѕ, му ρяαуєяѕ ; му ℓσνєℓу ωιѕнєѕ αяє αℓωαуѕ ωιтн уσυ. → υ мαу вє συт σƒ му ѕιgнт, вυт ησт συт σƒ му нєαят, υ мαу вє συт σƒ му яєα¢н вυт ησт συт σƒ му мιη∂.ι мαу мєαη ησтнιηg тσ υ вυт υ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє ѕρє¢ιαℓ тσ мє! → ιƒ єνєя уσυ gєт ℓєѕѕ ѕмѕ ƒяσм мє, ∂ση’т тнιηк тнαт ι ∂ι∂η’т ¢αяє ƒσя уσυ. ιт мєαηѕ тнαт ι αм ѕєαя¢нιηg тнє вєѕт ѕмѕ ƒσя α вєѕт ρєяѕση ℓιкє уσυ → ρєσρℓє ℓινє ∂ιє ℓαυgн ¢яу ѕσмє gινє υρ ѕσмє ωιℓℓ тяу ѕσмє ѕαу нι ѕσмє ѕαу вує σтнєяѕ мαу ƒσяgєт уσυ вυт ηєνєя ωιℓℓ ι. → ι ηєνєя єχρє¢т σтнєяѕ тσ ѕмѕ мє. вυт ι’ℓℓ αℓωαуѕ ∂яσρ му ѕмѕ ιηтσ тнєιя ιηвσχ тσ ѕнσω ι ѕтιℓℓ “ℓσνє & яємємвєя” тнєм ωιтн σя ωιтнσυт тнєιя ѕмѕ → ƒєєℓ gσσ∂ ωнєη ѕσмєвσ∂у мιѕѕ υ. ƒєєℓ вєттєя ωнєη ѕσмєвσ∂у ℓσνєѕ υ. вυт ƒєєℓ вєѕт ωнєη ѕσмєвσ∂у ηєνєя ƒσяgєтѕ υ. → тωσ тнιηgѕ ¢αη ηєνєя вє ∂єƒιηє∂ ιη ωнσℓє ℓιƒє, ℓσνє: вє¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнσ ℓσνєѕ уσυ нσω мυ¢н. &; ƒяιєη∂: вє¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω нσω ∂єєρℓу тнєу ¢αяє αвσυт уσυ. → αℓωαуѕ αѕк gσ∂ тσ gινє υ ωнαт υ ∂єѕєяνє, ησт ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕιяє. в¢σz уσυя ∂єѕιяєѕ мαу вє ƒєω, вυт уσυ ∂єѕєяνєѕ α ℓσт! → ѕσмє яєℓαтισηѕ αяє ℓιкє тσм αη∂ נєяяу. тнєу тєαѕє єα¢н σтнєя, кησ¢к ∂σωη єα¢н σтнєя, ιяяιтαтє єα¢н σтнєя вυт тнєу єνєη ¢αη’т ℓινє ωιтнσυт єα¢н σтнєя! → αη єχ¢єℓℓєηт яσα∂ ѕєηтєη¢є ωяιттєη ση ηαтισηαℓ нιgнωαу: gσ ѕℓσω, υηℓєѕѕ υ нανє αη υяgєηт αρρσιηтмєηт ωιтн gσ∂! → нαя∂ тιмєѕ αяє ℓιкє α ωαѕнιηg мα¢нιηє, тнєу тωιѕт, тυяη &αмρ; кησ¢к υѕ αяσυη∂, вυт ιη тнє єη∂ ωє ¢σмє συт ¢ℓєαηєя, вяιgнтєя &αмρ; вєттєя тнαη вєƒσяє… → ѕσмєтιмєѕ уσυ нανє тσ яυη αωαу. ησт נυѕт тσ ¢яєαтє ∂ιѕтαη¢єѕ. вυт тσ ѕєє ωнσ ¢αяєѕ єησυgн тσ яυη вєнιη∂ уσυ! → му ωαу σƒ ℓιƒє . ρєσρℓє ℓαυgн вє¢αυѕє ι αм ∂郃єяєηт, ι ℓαυgн вє¢αυѕє тнєу αяє αℓℓ тнє ѕαмє, . тнαтѕ ¢αℓℓє∂ ‘αттιтυ∂є’… “ℓινє ιт уσυя σωη ωαу” → α ρσρυℓαя ιηѕριяαтισηαℓ ѕρєαкєя ѕαι∂: вєѕт уєαяѕ σƒ му ℓιƒє ωєяє ѕρєηт ιη αямѕ σƒ α ωσмαη ωнσ ωαѕη’т му ωιƒє! αυ∂ιєη¢є ωαѕ ѕнσ¢кє∂ αη∂ ѕιℓєη¢є. нє α∂∂є∂: ѕнє ωαѕ му мσтнєя! αυ∂ιєη¢є αρρℓαυѕє αη∂ ℓαυgнтєя! → συя вσ∂у ιѕ ƒυℓℓу мα∂є σƒ ωαтєя вυт ωнєηєνєя ιт нυятѕ вℓσσ∂ ¢σмєѕ συт. συя нєαят ιѕ ƒυℓℓ σƒ вℓσσ∂ вυт ωнєηєνєя ιт нυятѕ, ωαтєя ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм συя єуєѕ. → ℓιƒє ιѕ α σηє ωαу яσα∂. ωнєяє ¢αη ѕєє вα¢к. вυт уσυ ¢αη ησт gσ вα¢к. ѕσ ∂σ ησт мιѕѕ αηутнιηg. єηנσу єνєяу ѕє¢ση∂ σƒ ℓιƒє! → ιƒ αη єgg вяєαкѕ ∂υє 2 συтѕι∂є ƒσя¢є! “ιηѕι∂є ℓιƒє єη∂ѕ!” вυт… ιƒ ιт вяєαкѕ ƒяσм ιηѕι∂є! “ℓιƒє вєgιηѕ!” gяєαт тнιηgѕ αℓωαуѕ вєgιη ƒяσм ιηѕι∂є! ѕσ тяу тσ мαкє уσυя ιηѕι∂є gσσ∂! → α ℓιттℓє ∂郃єяєη¢є вєтωєєη ρяσмιѕєѕ &αмρ; мємσяιєѕ. ρяσмιѕєѕ: ωє вяєαк тнєм &αмρ; мємσяιєѕ: тнєу вяєαк υѕ. → кєєρ α ѕρє¢ιαℓ ρℓα¢є ƒσя мє ιη уσυя нєαят, ησт ιη уσυя мιη∂! кєєριηg мє ιη уσυя мιη∂ ¢αη вє ∂αηgєяσυѕ ƒσя уσυ вє¢αυѕє ρєσρℓє ѕαу ι αм мιη∂ вℓσωιηg… → нαρριηєѕѕ ¢αηησт вє ƒσυη∂ ωнєη уσυ ѕєєк ιт ƒσя уσυяѕєℓƒ вυт ωнєη уσυ gινє ιт тσ σтнєяѕ, ιт ωιℓℓ ƒιη∂ ιт’ѕ ωαу вα¢к тσ уσυ тнαт’ѕ тнє муѕтєяу σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ ιт gяσωѕ ωнєη ѕнαяє∂. → тнє нαρριєѕт σƒ ρєσρℓє ∂ση’т ηє¢єѕѕαяιℓу нανє тнє вєѕт σƒ єνєяутнιηg. тнєу נυѕт мαкє тнє мσѕт σƒ єνєяутнιηg, тнαт ¢σмєѕ αℓσηg тнєιя ωαу. → ∂єαтн ιѕ ησт тнє gяєαтєѕт ℓσѕѕ ιη ℓιƒє тнє gяєαтєѕт ℓσѕѕ σƒ ℓιƒє ιѕ ωнєη яєℓαтισηѕнιρ ∂ιєѕ αмσηg υѕ ωнιℓє ωє я αℓινє ѕσ в ѕтяσηg ιη уσυя яєℓαтισηѕ. → єχρяєѕѕιση σƒ тнє ƒα¢є ¢συℓ∂ вє ѕєєη ву єνєяуσηє. вυт тнє ∂єρяєѕѕιση σƒ нєαят ¢συℓ∂ вє υη∂єяѕтσσ∂ σηℓу ву тнє вєѕт σηє. ∂ση’т ℓσѕє тнєм ιη ℓιƒє. → тнσυѕαη∂ѕ σƒ ℓαηgυαgєѕ αяσυη∂ тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ вυт “ѕмιℓє” ¢αη вєαт тнєм αℓℓ. вє¢αυѕє “ѕмιℓє” ιѕ тнє ℓαηgυαgє єνєη α вαву ¢αη ѕρєαк.. → ѕσмє ρєσρℓє ∂ση’т кησω нσω ιмρσятαηт тнєιя ρяєѕєη¢є ιѕ. нσω gσσ∂ ιт ƒєєℓѕ тσ нανє тнєм αяσυη∂. нσω ¢σмƒσятιηg тнєιя ωσя∂ѕ αяє. αη∂ нσω ѕαтιѕƒуιηg ιѕ тнє νєяу тнσυgнт тнαт тнєу єχιѕт. тнєу ωσυℓ∂η’т кησω υηℓєѕѕ ωє тєℓℓ тнєм ℓιкє ι αм тєℓℓιηg уσυ ησω. уσυ αяє тяυєℓу ναℓυє∂…!! → вєѕт ℓιηєѕ ву α вєѕт ƒяιєη∂: “ιт нυятѕ мє υ тαℓк тσ ѕ0мє0ηє єℓѕє η η0т мє.. .. ιт нυятѕ єνєη м0яє ωєη ѕ0мє1 єℓѕє мαкєѕ υ ѕмιℓє η ι ¢αη’т . . .” → gσт α gιƒт ƒσя уσυ! ησ ¢σѕт, єχтяємєℓу ρєяѕσηαℓ! ƒυℓℓу яєтυяηαвℓє! ιтѕ α нυg ƒяσм мє тσ уσυ!! → υ мαу мєєт ρєσρℓє, вєттєя тнαη мє, ƒυηηιєя тнαη мє, мσяє вєαυтιƒυℓ тнαη мє, вυт σηє тнιηg ι ¢αη ѕαу 2 υ _ _ ι ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє тнєяє 4 υ ωнєη тнєу αℓℓ ℓєανє υ. → мσвιℓєѕ αяє ιяяιтαтιηg, ∂αιℓу ¢нαяgιηg, мσηтнℓу яє¢нαяgιηg, αηησуιηg вєєρѕ, αℓωαуѕ ∂ιѕтυявιηg, вυт ѕтιℓℓ ι ℓσνє му мσвιℓє вє¢αυѕє ιт ¢σηηє¢тѕ “υ & мє” → ωнєη ѕσмєσηє нυятѕ υ . . . . ∂ση’т ƒєєℓ вα∂ вє¢αυѕє ιтѕ тнє ℓαω σƒ ηαтυяє тнαт тнє тяєє тнαт вєαяѕ тнє ѕωєєтєѕт ƒяυιтѕ gєтѕ мαχιмυм ηυмвєя σƒ ѕтσηєѕ → α нυg ιѕ α gιƒт σηє ѕιzє ƒιт αℓℓ ιт ¢αη вє gινєη ιη αηу σ¢¢αѕιση ѕσ ι αм ѕєη∂ уσυ тнιѕ нυg тσ тєℓℓ уσυ ι ℓσνє уσυ. → ωнєη υ ƒα¢є ¢нσι¢єѕ… נυѕт тσѕѕ α ¢σιη.. ησт נυѕт вє¢αυѕє ιт ѕєттℓєѕ тнє qυєѕтιση, вυт ωнιℓє тнє ¢σιη ιѕ ιη αιя, υ ωιℓℓ кησω ωнαт υя нєαят ιѕ нσριηg ƒσя !!! → тнє ℓσνєℓιєѕт ∂αу ¢σмєѕ ωнєη уσυ ωαкє υρ αη∂ ƒιη∂ тнαт ℓσνє ѕтιℓℓ ¢σℓσяѕ уσυя ωσяℓ∂ тняυ ρєσρℓє ωнσ тяυℓу ¢αяє αη∂ ηєνєя ƒαιℓ тσ яємємвєя уσυ. → тнєяє ιѕ αℓωαуѕ α яєαѕση 4 єνєяутнιηg α яєαѕση 2 ℓινє 2 ∂ιє 2 ¢яу, вυт ιƒ υ ¢αη�т ƒιη∂ α яєαѕση тσ ѕмιℓє ¢αη ι вє тнє яєαѕση 4 α ωнιℓє:) → ℓιƒє + ℓσνє = нαρρу ℓιƒє – ℓσνє = ѕα∂ α∂∂ιηg αвσνє 2, ℓιƒє + ℓσνє = нαρρу ℓιƒє – ℓσνє = ѕα∂ ——————– 2ℓιƒє = нαρρу + ѕα∂ ѕσ, ℓιƒє = 1/2нαρρу + 1/2ѕα∂ → ι ѕмιℓє αт ωнσм ι ℓιкє; ι ¢яу 4 ωнσм ι ¢αяє; ι ѕнαяє ωιтн ωнσм ι ℓσνє; ι ℓαυgн ωιтн ωнσм ι єηנσу; ι ѕєη∂ ѕмѕ σηℓу 2 тнσѕє ωнσм ι ηєνєя ωαηт 2 ℓσѕє → яєαℓιzє тнιηgѕ вєƒσяє ιт’ѕ тσσ ℓαтє. α¢¢єρт тнιηgѕ тнαη ∂єℓαу тнєм. ℓσνє ρєσρℓє вєƒσяє уσυ ℓσѕє тнєм. ℓιƒє נυѕт ¢σмєѕ ση¢є. ℓσνє ιт ωнιℓє уσυ ℓινє ιт. → ι ∂є¢ι∂є∂ тσ ѕєη∂ уσυ тнє ¢υтєѕт αη∂ ѕωєєтєѕт gιƒт σƒ тнє ωσяℓ∂. вυт тнє ρσѕтмαη ѕнσυтє∂ αт мє ѕαуιηg, gєт συт σƒ тнє ρσѕт вσχ. → ℓιƒє ωιтнσυт ℓσνє ιѕ ℓιкє α ƒяυιтℓєѕѕ тяєє, вυт ℓιƒє ωιтнσυт ƒяιєη∂ѕ ιѕ ℓιкє яσσтℓєѕѕ тяєє. тяєє ¢αη ℓινє ωιтнσυт ƒяυιт вυт ησт ωιтнσυт яσσт! → ¢αяяу α нєαят тнαт ηєνєя нαтєѕ, ¢αяяу α ѕмιℓє тнαт ηєνєя ƒα∂єѕ, ¢αяяу α тσυ¢н тнαт ηєνєя нυятѕ, αη∂ αℓωαуѕ ¢αяяу α яєℓαтισηѕнιρ тнαт ηєνєя вяєαкѕ. → αѕ ρяє¢ισυѕ αѕ υ я тσ мє, αѕ ρяє¢ισυѕ ησ σηє ¢αη єνєя вє, ι кησω ƒяιєη∂ѕ я нαя∂ тσ ¢нσσѕє, вυт υ я α ƒяιєη∂ ι ηєνєя ωαηт тσ ℓσѕє. → мσηєу ѕαуѕ єαяη мє ℓσт, тιмє ѕαуѕ ρℓαη мє ℓσт, ƒℓσωєя ѕαуѕ ℓσνє мє ℓσт, ѕтυ∂у ѕαуѕ ℓєαяη мє ℓσт, ѕмѕ ѕαуѕ ѕєη∂ мє ℓσт, αη∂ ℓ ѕαу яємємвєя мє ℓσт. → υ ωαηт αη∂ υ gєт υ ωαηт αη∂ υ gєт тнαт ιѕ ℓυ¢к, υ ωαηт αη∂ υ ωαιт тнαт ιѕ тιмє, υ ωαηт вυт υ ¢σмρяσмιѕє тнαт ιѕ ℓιƒє → мємσяιєѕ нανє тнєιя ѕтяαηgє ωαуѕ. тнєу ℓєανє уσυ αℓσηє. ωнєη уσυ αяє ιη α ¢яσω∂. вυт ωнєη уσυ αяє αℓσηє. тнєу ѕтαη∂ αяσυη∂ уσυ ℓιкє α ¢яσω∂. → ιƒ υя α ¢нσ¢σℓαтє υя тнє ѕωєєтєѕт, ιƒ υя α тє∂∂у вєαя υя тнє мσѕт нυggαвℓє, ιƒ υ αяє α ѕтαя υ я тнє вяιgнтєѕт, αη∂ ѕιη¢є υ я му �ƒяιєη∂� υ я тнє �вєѕт�! → яσѕє ιѕ ƒαмσυѕ 4 gяα¢є… α∂νσ¢αтє ιѕ ƒαмσυѕ 4 нιѕ ¢αѕє… нσяѕєѕ я ƒαмσυѕ 4 яα¢є… вυт υ я ƒαмσυѕ 4 ѕмιℓє ση υя ƒα¢є…! нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → “ι тяυѕт уσυ” ιѕ α вєттєя ¢σмρℓιмєηт тнαη “ι ℓσνє уσυ” вє¢αυѕє уσυ мαу ησт αℓωαуѕ тяυѕт тнє ρєяѕση уσυ ℓσνє вυт уσυ ¢αη αℓωαуѕ ℓσνє тнє ρєяѕση уσυ тяυѕт. → ι ωαηηα кєєρ3 тнιηgѕ: . . тнє ѕυη тнє мσση & му ƒяιєη∂ѕ ѕυη 4 ∂αутιмє мσση ƒσя ηιgнт тιмє &αмρ; υ.му ∂єαя ƒяιєη∂ 4 ℓιƒєтιмє → ιƒ уσυ ℓσνє ѕσмєтнιηg, ℓєт ιт gσ. ιƒ ιт ¢σмєѕ вα¢к тσ уσυ, ιтѕ уσυяѕ ƒσяєνєя. ιƒ ιт ∂σєѕη’т, тнєη ιт ωαѕ ηєνєя мєαηт тσ вє. → ωнєη α мєѕѕαgє ιѕ ѕєηт ƒяσм α ∂ιѕтαη¢є, уσυ ¢αη’т ѕєє тнє ƒα¢єѕ, уσυ ¢αη’т ѕєє тнє ѕмιℓєѕ, вυт уσυ ¢αη ѕєє тнє ¢αяє тнαт тяυℓу ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм нєαят ! → ∂ση’т ℓєт ѕσмєσηє вє¢σмє уσυя єνєяутнιηg, вє¢αυѕє ωнєη тнєу’яє gσηє уσυ нανє ησтнιηg! → ѕρєαкιηg ωιтнσυт єgσѕ, ℓσνιηg ωιтнσυт ιηтєηтισηѕ, ¢αяιηg ωιтнσυт єχρє¢тαтισηѕ &αмρ; ρяαуιηg ωιтнσυт ѕєℓƒιѕнηєѕѕ, ιѕ тнє ѕιgη σƒ “тяυє яєℓαтιση”. → яєℓαтισηѕнιρ яєqυιяєѕ ℓιттℓє єƒƒσятѕ……….. єνєη ωнєη ƒяιєη∂ѕ αяє вυѕу ωιтн тнєιя σωη ℓινєѕ, α ѕιмρℓє ѕмѕ яємιη∂ѕ єα¢н σтнєя тнαт……. “υ я ησт ƒσяgσттєη” → вє ¢ℓσѕє ωιтн ѕσмєσηє ωнσ мαкєѕ уσυ нαρρу…! вυт вє мυ¢н ¢ℓσѕєя тσ тнαт ρєяѕση ωнσ ¢αη’т вє нαρρу ωιтнσυт уσυ…! → ѕσσσσσσ…. ѕιмρℓє вυт ѕσ αттяα¢тινє. ѕσ.. єηℓιgнтηιηg вυт ѕσ ¢σσℓ. ѕσ мσνιηg вυт ѕσ ѕтιℓℓ. ѕσ… qυιтє вυт ѕσ ρσρυℓαя. ѕσ яσмαηтι¢ вυт ѕтιℓℓ ѕιηgℓє. ιт’ѕ тнє тяαgє∂у σƒ мσση:-

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 + make a wishlist so you’ll be prepared when it’s your birthday/Christmas + do five or more journal prompts + start a new hobby or make a list of new hobbies you’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 haven’t read in 3 or more years + watch a show or film in a genre you don’t usually watch + go on YouTube and make a playlist of your favorite self improvement/advice videos to watch when you’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! it’s super fun to dream up possible vacations!! + look for a new podcast to listen to 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✧

𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙞𝙩! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙩, 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡!. 𝙉𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙮𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙡𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬, 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙖 “𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 !” 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮! 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝘿𝙊 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛! 𝙉𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙉𝙊𝘽𝙊𝘿𝙔 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙠𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛! 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡? 𝙄𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝘽𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙤 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙚! 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙭 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙝ar𝙙𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝘽𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙞-𝘽𝙤𝙤 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙚!!! 𝘹𝘰𝘹𝘰!, 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

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

I V X L C D M 1 5 10 50 100 500 1000 🔢 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

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: :¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ 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 desires♡

glow up schedule ✨🎀📚🧖‍♀️ 2 weeks before: 💗 hair appt for highlights & cut 💗 do face masks 2-3x per week 💗 apply hair oil & mask before each wash 💗 implement my morning/ night routine 1 week before: 💗 fresh mani & pedi 💗 wardrobe refresh to clear out old clothes & invest in new pieces 💗 buy supplies 💗 reach out to friends + classmates to catch up & compare schedules 💗 practice daily makeup routine the night before: 💗 review all my first day schedule 💗 pack my bag 💗 pick out my outfit 💗 wash my hair & style for overnight curls 💗 relax & get excited!!!

morning routine as a teenage girl ༉‧₊˚✧ ⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯ ୨୧ . wake up at 6:30am. ୨୧ . drink some water! ୨୧ . go and feed my downstairs neighbor’s cat. ♡ ୨୧ . brush my teeth. ୨୧ . do my skin care (cleanser , toner , serum , eye cream , moisturiser , sunscreen ) ୨୧ . make my mum’s bed & my bed. ୨୧ . straighten up my room a bit! ୨୧ . do my makeup. ୨୧ . get dressed. ୨୧ . style my hair! ୨୧ . get backpack together. ୨୧ . deodorant , lotion , perfume. ୨୧ . out the door , time for school

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

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 dzień w szkole Autor: BradDracV Źródło: First Day of School Tłumaczenie: Puck Norris Rosie szarpała zamkiem jej plecaka w kwiatki, czekając na autobus, który miał ją zabrać do szkoły. Stojący za nią rodzice byli równie nerwowi jak ona, próbowali jednak tego po sobie nie okazywać. Chcieli, żeby pierwszy dzień w szkole Rosie był dla niej nowym przeżyciem pełnym ekscytacji, a nie obaw. Mogli ją zaprowadzić do szkoły osobiście, nie mieszkali od niej daleko, ale chcieli, żeby jej urocza córka mogła zawrzeć nowe przyjaźnie i poznać innych ludzi. Zresztą, jasny, żółty autobus zatrzymał się przed ich domem jeszcze zanim zdążyli zmienić zdanie. Co dziwne, autobus był pusty. To tylko sprawiło, że niepokój rodziny jeszcze bardziej urósł. Po zbiorowym uścisku i wielu pocałunkach wymienionych z mamą i tatą, Rosie wsiadła do pojazdu i zajęła miejsce z przodu. Pulchny kierowca pomachał jej rodzicom, praktycznie nie patrząc w ich kierunku. Drzwi zapiszczały i zamknęły się za ich małym skarbem. Mama uroniła małą łzę, obserwując razem z tatą jak autobus znika za zakrętem na końcu ulicy. "Będzie się dzisiaj świetnie bawiła." tata pocieszył mamę całusem w czoło. "Wiem" zgodziła się mama, nie brzmiąc zbyt przekonywująco. "Idę wziąć prysznic" powiedziała i skierowała się do domu. Kiedy tylko tata wszedł za nią do środka, zaskoczony usłyszał głośne trąbienie. Poczuł, że żołądek podchodzi mu do gardła, gdy tylko się odwrócił i zobaczył inny autobus, wypełniony szczęśliwymi uczniami i stojący na jego podjeździe. Szerokie drzwi rozwarły się. "Dzień dobry, panie Thomas" powiedział starszy kierowca o miłym uśmiechu kochającej babci. "Czy Rosie jest gotowa na swój pierwszy dzień?"

𝓐𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ ✮ - Im truly true beauty! ✮ - Everyone thinks im perfect, and I am! ✮- The compliments I get are endless! ✮ - I attract postivity and can get people immediately attached to me! ✮ - Im usually the one who starts trends! ✮ - I have a skinny tall b0dy! *Please remember weight does NOT matter!! ✮ - Everyone trips as soon as they see me! ✮ - Im the quote “beauty and brawns” ✮ - I have always had perfect grades! ✮ - Im me and your you! ✮ - they way everybody falls for me as soon as they see me is concerning! ✮ - I know im better than all these people but I stay humble for their own sake! ✮ - I have the perfect positve mindset! ✮ - Im very beautiful… Its amazing! ✮ - Everyone wants to be me or be with me! ✮ - My energy enters before I even enter the room! ✮ - My posture is perfect always! ✮ - You’ll never catch me with bad posture! ✮ - I don’t care about my haters, their obsessed anyways! ✮ - My life revoles around me only! *ˢˡᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇʸᵉ♥

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ daily affirmations ˙ᵕ˙ ❤︎ i won’t be so hard on myself ❤︎ i belong here ❤︎ i am worthy of what i desire ❤︎ i love me always ❤︎ happiness is in my hands

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 • 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 • officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family • 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 • 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 • officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family • Humor about something that happened earier in the day or week

A: Ⱥ Д ∆ ₳Ꭿ Ꭺ B: ℬ Ᏸ 乃 ط ъ C: 匚 ང Ꮳ D: ƌ Ꭰ Ꮄ ⅅ ⅆ E: ε ཇ Σ Ξ Ꭼ Ꮛ ⅇ F: ན ƒ G: Ꮹ 𠂎 ɠ ʛ Ꮆ Ᏻ H: ħ ℌ Ꮋ Ꮒ Ᏺ I: ༏ ༑ ༐ ⅈ Ꮠ J: 𠃌 Ꭻ Ꮰ ℑ ⅉ K: ƙ L: ℒ Ꮮ ɭ Ꮭ ℓ M: ཀ Ꮇ ᙢ ℳ N: ₪ ת מ ה ས π ℵ O: Ꮎ P: ρ や 尸 Ꮅ Q: Ꭴ R: ર ℜ ཞ ༉ Ꭱ S: Ꭶ T: τ Ꮖ ϯ ד Ꮏ ե Ꭲ U: Ꮜ V: Ꭷ Ꮴ W: Ꮤ ᙡ Ꮚ ש ཡ ш щ ϣ Ꮗ X: ℵ א ж Y: ע ч ɤ ɣ Ꮍ Z: Հ ʑ Ꮓ ℤ

school 👩‍💼✏️📈🧠🎀 ❥ folder (one per class) ❥ planner ❥ lined paper ❥ pencil pouch (contains mechanical pencils, pens, & eraser) ❥ laptop & charger ❥ earbuds ❥ snacks ❥ 32 oz water bottle ❥ advil ❥ feminine products ❥ lip gloss ❥ wallet ❥ a book ❥ travel size body spray

𝒃𝒚 “𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒎”! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ Ｓｔｕｄｙ ｔｉｐｓ ｆｒｏｍ ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ ｗｈｏ: ｇｅｔｓ ｈｉｇｈ ｇｒａｄｅｓ ａｎｄ ｉｓ ａ ｔｅａｃｈs ｆａｖ！: ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ɴᴏ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ!: ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ! ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴠɪᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜꜱᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜰᴀʀ ᴅʀᴀᴡᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴏʙ ᴡᴏɴᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ! ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀʏ ɪꜱ ᴄʟᴏꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴛꜰɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ! (ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ/ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴅᴇʟᴇᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴘᴘꜱ!), ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ: ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰ!!!! ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʟᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ! ɪᴛꜱ ꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴅɪꜱᴘʟɪɴᴇ! ꜱᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ “ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴜᴘ ʏ/ɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ɢʀᴀᴅᴇꜱ, ɴᴏ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ᴠᴀɪʟᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏʟ’ ꜱʟᴀᴘ, ᴊᴏʙ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ!” ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘꜱ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ʟᴏʟ! ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ᴛʜɪʀᴅ!: ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴏʀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴇᴅ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ! ᴇᴠᴇɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴀᴅʟʏ:( ʙᴜᴛ! ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ɪɴꜱᴘᴏꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ! ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ɴᴏᴛɪɴɢ! ɪᴛꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴇᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴀʟᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴇꜱꜱᴏɴꜱ ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ! ɪᴛꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʟʟ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ! ᴘʟᴜꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ!: ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ! ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏɴ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀꜱ! (ᴇx: “ᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴀꜱ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴀꜱꜱɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ”, “ɪɴ 2:50ᴘᴍ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴜᴍʙɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛʜ ᴀꜱꜱɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ”) ᴜꜱᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀᴇᴅ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ! ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜʀᴏᴍᴇ ʟᴀᴘ! ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴠ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇʟᴘᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇ! (ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴇꜱꜱʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱɪɴɢʟᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ ᴜᴘ!, ᴛɪᴅʏ ᴜᴘ! ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, “ᴀ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ ʀᴏᴏᴍ = ᴀ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ” ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛʀᴜᴇ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀɴ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ! ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴇꜱꜱʏ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴇꜱꜱʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴇʟᴘ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏɪɴɢ! ᴏʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴘɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ Qᴜᴏᴛᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ ᴀʟᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱᴇᴅ!) ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ!, ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴀʟʟ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ ʙʏᴇ!! <3 ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

Weekly Affirmations ♡ I’m confident that there is a bright future ahead of me. ♡ I have everything I need to succeed. ♡ I am capable of reaching my goals. ♡ I will let go of the things that are not serving me. ♡ I am deserving of happiness. ♡ I attract success and prosperity with all my ideas. ♡ Wealth is pouring into my life. ♡ my possibilities are endless. ♡ My future ahead is bright and I am ready to grow.

◌ 🌟 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ New week — start fresh ◌ 💭 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ New mindset — think positively ◌ 🌸 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ New opportunities — be grateful ◌ 🫧 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ New possibilities — be optimistic ◌ 🩰 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ New attitude — be kind, be loving

𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝐽𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 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 i’m grateful for my affirmation for this week is?

ᴬᵛᵃ ᶠᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁽ᵇⁱᵍ ˢʰᵒᵗ⁾ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴬᵛᵃ ᵖᵒᵛ ⁱⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ⁽ᴬˡˢᵒ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵘⁿⁿᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵛᵒˡˡᵉʸᵇᵃˡˡ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉʳˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵃᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒⁿᵈⁱᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵃⁱᵈ ᴱᵛⁱᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᴬᵛᵃ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈʸ ⁿᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴬᵛᵃ'ˢ ᵗᵉᵃᵐᵐᵃᵗᵉ ᴺᵃᵗᵃˡⁱᵉ⁾ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒʳᵗˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ⁱⁿᵛᵒˡᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵛᵒˡˡᵉʸᵇᵃˡˡ‧ ᴹʸ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ᴬᵛᵃ ᴺᵃᵛᵃʳʳᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴺᵃᵗᵃˡⁱᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᴱᵛⁱᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶠᵒᶜᵘˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵘⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃˡˡ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒⁿ ᴱᵛⁱᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵘᵈⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵖ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ 'ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ' ᵃˢ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒˢᵉ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶠ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰⁱˢᵗˡᵉ‧ 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ? ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁱᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ? ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿ!' ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵉᶠ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ 'ᴴᵉʸ; ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!' 'ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵐʸ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴺᵃᵛᵃʳʳᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ!' ᔆᵒ ᴵ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵃᵗᵒʳˢ ᵍᵃˢᵖ‧ 'ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ!' ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᴺᵃᵗᵃˡⁱᵉ'ˢ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵛᵒˡˡᵉʸᵇᵃˡˡ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉʳˢ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ᵉˣⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒᵐ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵃᶜʰ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠⁱᵗ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶜʳᵘⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵂᵉˢᵗᵇʳᵒᵒᵏ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵃˢᵏᵉᵗᵇᵃˡˡ ᵗᵉᵃᵐ‧

ᴳʳᵒʷ ᵁᵖ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖʳᵉᑫᵘᵉˡ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍʳᵒʷ ᵘᵖ?" ᵀʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃᶜʰᵉʳ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴬⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ!" ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵇˡᵘʳᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴬ ᵗᵉᵃᶜʰᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵃⁿᵗᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃᶜʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ!" "ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵃᵘᵗ!" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗ!" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜʰⁱᵉᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" @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 10:13 PM

ᏂᎥ!, 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘵𝘰 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚!!

𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓼𝓮𝓽🌷 I honestly dont care about what others think of me, my life revolves around me, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒆 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

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------------------------------------------------------------ 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑯𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒅 “𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆. 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. “ ------------------------------------------------------------

daily affirmations ˙ᵕ˙ ❤︎ i won’t be so hard on myself ❤︎ i belong here ❤︎ i am worthy of what i desire ❤︎ i love me always ❤︎ happiness is in my hands

positivity ꔛ 🌸 you can do great things 🫧 you are important 🌸 you are amazing 🫧 you deserve happiness 🌸 the best is yet to come 🫧 you deserve flowers

୨ৎ⋆.˚‪‪❤︎‬‎⭒ fun things you can manifest ⭒ 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬! ⭒ 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝐞.𝐠. 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬, 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐭𝐜.) ⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡! ⭒ 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝟐𝐤! ⭒ 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲! ⭒ 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬! ⭒ 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬! ⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫! ⭒ 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞! ⭒ 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 & 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞! ⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐩𝐩! ⭒ 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩! ⭒ 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭!

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

︶︶︶ ꔫ ⠀︶︶︶ 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑒𝑢𝑠𝑒 ♡ i’m the embodiment of a rose religieuse from la ladurée, delicate and sweet ♡ i often wear empire waist dresses in pastel colors, adorned with lace and velvet ribbons ♡ whenever i walk by, i leave behind me the scent of sweet things, like warm vanilla, cotton candy and pink cakes ♡ i’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 ♡ i have beautiful, neat handwriting and excellent calligraphy skills ♡ i’m quiet, elegant, intelligent and speak eloquently

🦕🍫🍪🍫🦖

📘-🧩-📘 / 🧩-⭐️-🧩 / 📘-🧩-📘

🤎🍂🍎🍂🤎

23 March 2009 Weird Science Words Science Dictionary Here are some weird science words. Be careful how you use them. Auscultation—Listening. Especially listening to the sounds of the internal organs, as with a stethoscope. Borborygmus, pl. borborygmi—Rumbling and gurgling noises from hunger. Stomach "growling". Bromhidrosis—Body odor, B.O. From the Greek bromos, a stench, and hidros, sweat. Cacophony—Jarring, discordant sound. Cacophonous: having a harsh, discordant sound. From the Greek kakophnos, kakos, bad+ phōnē, sound. Kakos goes back to one of the oldest words we still use, the Indo-European root kakka-, to defecate. Cacodyl—The arsenic group (CH3)2As, or a poisonous oil (As2(CH3)4) with a strong garlicky odor. Same root as cacophony. Emesis, pl. emeses—The act of coughing up Eructation— burbing Flatus—The gas that comprises Formication—A sensation that feels like insects crawling on the skin, a type of paresthesia. From formica, Latin for "ant". Googol—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. Mastication—chewing Micturation—Potty Osculant—Intermediate in characteristics between two similar or related taxonomic groups. Closely adhering or joined; embracing Osculation—Kissing; a kiss Oscitancy—the act of yawning Pandiculation—The act of stretching and yawning at the same time. Radicle—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 (√) or a highly reactive atom, molecule or person. Nor with "ridicule". Sternutation—Sneezing Stertor—The sound of snoring Syzygy—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 Wamble—To turn or roll (said of the stomach), an upset stomach, nausea

June 2nd, 2016, 3:21 PM That awkward moment when you get called on in class and you weren't paying attention

𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 ✧˖° “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭?” ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ “𝘠𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪”

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

𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𓏲 🌿🪞 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙, 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒.

https://es.pixilart.com/draw

💐☎🌸📚🍵💭🎨💌💗📸

https://www.domestika.org/es/schools

https://perchance.org/ai-story-generator

🅱🅻🅰🅲🅺 🆂🆀🆄🅰🆁🅴 🇧 🇱 🇺 🇪 𝐁𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝘽𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙄𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙘 𝕭𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖐𝖙𝖚𝖗 𝓑𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽 Ⓑⓤⓑⓑⓛⓔ 𝒞𝓊𝓇𝓈𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝔻𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕔𝕜 ᖴᗩ丅 dılɟ 𝔉𝔯𝔞𝔨𝔱𝔲𝔯 𝔏𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 ｆｕｌｌ-ｗｉｄｔｈ 𝘐𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 🅝🅔🅖🅐🅣🅘🅥🅔 🅒🅘🅡🅒🅛🅔🅓 🅽🅴🅶🅰🆃🅸🆅🅴 🆂🆀🆄🅰🆁🅴🅳 ᗡƎƧЯƎVƎЯ 𝖲𝖺𝗇𝗌-𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖿 𝗦𝗮𝗻𝘀-𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗳 𝗕𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙨-𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙛 𝘽𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙄𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙘 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘴-𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘧 𝘐𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝒮𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓉 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐟 𝐁𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑰𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄 sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴄᴀᴘs 🅂🅀🅄🄰🅁🄴🅂 S̸t̸r̸i̸k̸e̸o̸u̸t̸ ₛᵤᵦₛ𝒸ᵣᵢₚₜ Sᵁᴾᴱᴿˢᶜʳⁱᵖᵗˢ ʇxǝʇ uʍop ǝpısdn Ｗｉｄｅ

(✿ ͡◕ ᴗ◕)つ━━✫・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨) .· ´𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔟𝔢 𝔠𝔞ᴋ𝔢☆´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·’* (¸.·’* (¸.·’* (¸.·’* (¸.·’* *¨)

→ уєѕтєя∂αу ιѕ нιѕтσяу. тσмσяяσω ιѕ муѕтєяу. тσ∂αу ιѕ α gιƒт. тнαт ιѕ ωну ιт ιѕ ¢αℓℓє∂ “тнє ρяєѕєηт”. ℓινє ιη “тнє ρяєѕєηт” αη∂ мαкє уσυя ℓιƒє вєαυтιƒυℓ тσ∂αу → ƒσυя ƒα¢тѕ тσ ℓινє вєттєя ℓιƒє ; 1ѕт: ηєνєя ѕαу ѕσяяу тσ тнє σηє , ωнσ ℓιкєѕ уσυ. 2η∂: ηєνєя ѕαу вує тσ тнє σηє , ωнσ ηєє∂ѕ уσυ. 3я∂: ηєνєя вℓαмє тнє σηє , ωнσ яєαℓℓу тяυѕтѕ уσυ. 4тн: ηєνєя ƒσяgєт тнє σηє , ωнσ αℓωαуѕ яємємвєяѕ уσυ → ѕмιℓє ƒσя тнє σηєѕ уσυ ℓσνє… α ѕιмρℓє ѕмιℓє ιѕ αℓℓ ιт тαкєѕ тσ мαкє σηє нαρρу… ℓσνє ¢αη ¢σмє ιη мαηу ∂郃єяєηт ωαуѕ, ѕнαρєѕ η ѕιzєѕ … вυт α ѕιмρℓє ѕмιℓє ωιℓℓ ¢σηqυєя єνєяутнιηg … αη∂ ℓєανє тнє вєѕт σƒ υѕ ѕρєє¢нℓєѕѕ … → α ѕιηgℓє нαяѕн ωσя∂ ѕρσкєη αт тнє тιмє σƒ αηgєя ιѕ ѕσ ρσιѕσησυѕ тнαт ιт мαкєѕ υѕ тσ ƒσяgєт тнє 100 ℓσναвℓє ¢σηνєяѕαтισηѕ ωιтнιη ѕє¢ση∂ѕ. → ιη συя ℓιƒє нαρριηєѕѕ ιѕ мσяє ιмρσятαηт тнαη ѕмιℓє ¢αυѕє ѕмιℓє ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм ℓιρѕ вυт нαρριηєѕѕ ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм тнє нєαят ѕσ вє нαρρу ƒσяєνєя → gσσ∂ вєнανισя ¢αη ¢σνєя тнє ℓα¢к σƒ gσσ∂ ℓσσкѕ вυт gσσ∂ ℓσσкѕ ¢αη ηєνєя ¢σνєя тнє ℓα¢к σƒ gσσ∂ вєнανισя ѕσ кєєρ уσυя вєнανισя αт тнє вєѕт ℓєνєℓ

→ ѕмιℓє ιѕ α ℓαηgυαgє σƒ ℓσνє, ѕмιℓє ιѕ α ѕσυя¢є тσ ωιη нєαят, ѕмιℓє ιѕ α ηαмє σƒ ℓσνєℓу мσσ∂, ѕмιℓє ¢яєαтє gяєαтηєѕѕ ιη ρєяѕσηαℓιту ѕσ кєєρ ѕмιℓιηg → gσσ∂ яєℓαтισηѕнιρѕ αяє ℓιкє тяєєѕ тнєу ∂ємαη∂ αттєηтιση &αмρ; ¢αяє ιη тнє вєgιηηιηg вυт ση¢є тнєу вℓσѕѕσмѕ тнєу ρяσνι∂є υ ѕнα∂є ιη αℓℓ ѕιтυαтισηѕ σƒ ℓιƒє → ι кєρт уσυя ηαмє ιη му נσυяηαℓ, αη∂ ρσѕтє∂ уσυ ιη тнє ℓє∂gєя σƒ му нєαят, уσυ ωσηт вє ¢ℓαѕѕιƒιє∂ αѕ ƒιχє∂ αѕѕєтѕ, вє¢αυѕє тнє мαякєт ναℓυє σƒ ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ∂єρяє¢ιαтє ƒяσм нєαят. → ι тнιηк υ я νєяу ¢αяєℓєѕѕ!!! υ ¢σмє &αмρ; ℓєανє тнιηgѕ вєнιη∂!!!! ѕєє ησω ωнαт υ нανє ℓєƒт?? υ נυѕт ¢αмє ιη му мιη∂ &αмρ; ℓєƒт α ѕмιℓє ση му ƒα¢є…. → нαρριηєѕѕ ιѕ α ρєяƒυмє. уσυ ¢αηησт ѕρяєα∂ ση σтнєяѕ ωιтнσυт gєттιηg α ƒєω ∂яσρѕ ση υяѕєℓƒ. ѕσ αℓωαуѕ вє нαρρу тσ мαкє σтнєяѕ нαρρу ! → ѕσ ѕωєєт ιѕ υя ѕмιℓє….. ѕσ ѕωєєт ιѕ υя ѕтуℓє….. ѕσ ѕωєєт ιѕ υя νσι¢є….. ѕσ ѕωєєт ιѕ υя єує……. ѕєє нσω ѕωєєтℓу ι ℓιє!! → ωну ∂σ ωє ¢ℓσѕє συя єуєѕ ωнєη ωє ρяαу ωнєη ωє ¢яу ωнєη ωє ∂яєαм ωнєη ωє кιѕѕ вє¢αυѕє тнє мσѕт вєαυтιƒυℓ тнιηg ιη ℓιƒє αяє ησт ѕєєη. вυт ƒєℓт ву тнє нєαят! ∂єƒιηιтєℓу υ,му ƒяιєη∂:) ! → тнσυgнт ƒσя тнє ∂αу” αℓωαуѕ вє тнє яєαѕση σƒ ѕσмєσηє’ѕ нαρριηєѕѕ ηєνєя נυѕт α ραят σƒ ιт. вє α ραят σƒ ѕσмєσηє’ѕ ѕα∂ηєѕѕ ηєνєя тнє яєαѕση ƒσя ιт. → ѕωєєт ƒяυιтѕ я ηι¢є 2 єαт, ѕωєєт ωσя∂ѕ я ηι¢є 2 ѕαу, вυт ѕωєєт ρєσρℓє я яєαℓℓу нαя∂ 2 ƒιη∂. му gσσ∂ηєѕѕ, нσω тнє нєℓℓ ∂ι∂ υ мαηαgє 2 ƒιη∂ мє → α ѕмιℓє gινєѕ яє∂ ¢σℓσυя 2 υя ¢нєєкѕ, ωнιтє 2 υя тєєтн, ριηк ¢σℓσυя 2 υя ℓιρѕ, ѕιℓνєя ¢σℓσυя 2 υя єуєѕ, ѕσ кєєρ ѕмιℓιηg &αмρ; єηנσу тнє ¢σℓσυяѕ σƒ ℓιƒє → ℓσνє υяѕєℓƒ ,ƒℓιят ωιтн υя υη∂єяѕтαη∂ιηg,яσмαη¢є ωιтн ∂яєαмѕ,gєт єηgαgє∂ ωιтн ѕιмρℓι¢ιту,мαяяу gєηυιηєѕѕ,∂ινσя¢є тнє єgσ…тнαтѕ gσσ∂ ℓιƒє… → ωσя∂ѕ αη∂ нєαятѕ ѕнσυℓ∂ вє нαη∂ℓє∂ ¢αяєƒυℓℓу, вє¢αυѕє ωσя∂ѕ ωнєη ѕρσкєη &αмρ; нєαятѕ ωнєη вяσкєη αяє тнє нαя∂єѕт тнιηgѕ тσ яєραιя → ѕσмє∂αу уσυ мαу ℓσѕє уσυя нαιя. уσυ мαу ℓσѕє уσυя тєєтн- σуυя мσηєу &αмρ; єνєη ℓσѕє уσυя мιη∂. вυт 1 тнιηg уσυ ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ℓσσѕє ιѕ σуυя gσσ∂ ℓσσкѕ. вє¢αυѕє уσυ ¢αηт ℓσѕє ωнαт уσυ ∂ση’т нανє! → мαкιηg α мιℓℓιση ƒяιєη∂ѕ ιѕ ησт αη α¢нιєνємєηт, тнє α¢нιєνємєηт ιѕ тσ мαкє “α” ƒяιєη∂ ωнσ ωιℓℓ ѕтαη∂ ву уσυ ωнєη α мιℓℓιση αяє αgαιηѕт уσυ….! → ѕмσσтн яσα∂ѕ ηєνєя мαкє gσσ∂ ∂яινєяѕ! ѕмσσтн ѕєα ηєνєя мαкєѕ gσσ∂ ѕαιℓσяѕ! ¢ℓєαя ѕкιєѕ ηєνєя мαкє gσσ∂ ριℓσтѕ! ρяσвℓєм ƒяєє ℓιƒє ηєνєя мαкєѕ α ѕтяσηg &αмρ; gσσ∂ ρєяѕση! вє ѕтяσηg єησυgн тσ α¢¢єρт тнє ¢нαℓℓєηgєяѕ σƒ ℓιƒє. ∂ση’т αѕк ℓιƒє “ωну мє?” ιηѕтєα∂ ѕαу “тяу мє!” Posted by Kiran Bele at 19:02

𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔢 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔴𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 𝔣𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔯𝔰, 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰, 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔠 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔰. - 𝔈𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔰 6:2

ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 ✮︎ 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔱!

→ 7 яυℓєѕ тσ вє нαρρу….. 1. ηєνєя нαтє….. 2. ∂ση’т ωσяяу….. 3. ℓινє ѕιмρℓє….. 4. єχρє¢т α ℓιттℓє….. 5. gινє α ℓσт….. 6. αℓωαуѕ ѕмιℓє….. 7. нανє α ρєяѕση ℓιкє мє ωнσ αℓωαуѕ яємємвєя уσυ ….. → тσ ѕєє ℓιgнт,ℓσσк αт ѕυη..тσ ѕєє ℓσνє ℓσσк αт мσση.. тσ ѕєє вєαυту,ℓσσк αт ηαтυяє..тσ ѕєє нσρє,ℓσσк αт ƒυтυяє.. вυт,тσ ѕєє αℓℓ σƒ тнιѕ,ℓσσк αт тнє мιяяσя….!!!!!! → тнє вιggєѕт муѕтєяу σƒ мαтнѕ: 1000ѕ σƒ уєαяѕ ραѕѕє∂ , мιℓℓισηѕ σƒ тнєσяємѕ ∂єяινє∂ , 100ѕ σƒ ƒσямυℓα мα∂є вυт ѕтιℓℓ…….. ‘χ‘ ιѕ υηкησωη!!!!!!! → ωнєη уσυ gινє уσυя нєαят ωнєη тιмє ¢σмєѕ ƒσя уσυ тσ gινє уσυя нєαят тσ ѕσмєσηє, мαкє ѕυяє уσυ ѕєℓє¢т ѕσмєσηє ωнσ ωιℓℓ ηєνєя вяєαк уσυя нєαят, вє¢αυѕє вяσкєη нєαятѕ нαѕ ηєνєя ѕραяє ραятѕ. ωяιтє ση вяι¢кѕ → ∂σ уσυ кησω тнαт мєη αη∂ ωσмєη αяє αηgєℓѕ ¢яєαтє∂ ωιтн σηℓу σηє ωιηg? αη∂ тнєу ηєє∂ тσ ємвяα¢є єα¢н σтнєя тσ вє αвℓє тσ ƒℓу… нσρє уσυ ¢αη ƒιη∂ уσυя αηgєℓ ωнσм уσυ ¢αη ƒℓу ωιтн ƒσяєνєя → тσ ℓινє α ℓιƒє ι ηєє∂ нєαятвєαт, 2 нανє нєαятвєαт ι ηєє∂ α нєαят, 2 нανє нєαят ι ηєє∂ нαρριηєѕѕ, тσ нανє нαρριηєѕѕ ι ηєє∂ α ƒяιєη∂, αη∂ 4 α ƒяιєη∂ ι ηєє∂ υ αℓωαуѕ → ι ѕмιℓє αт ωнσм ι ℓιкє ι ¢яу ƒσя ωнσм ι ¢αяє ι ѕнαяє ωιтн ωнσм ι ℓσνє ι ℓαυgн ωιтн ωнσм ι єηנσу, ι ѕмѕ σηℓу тσ тнσѕє ωнσм ι ηєνєя ωαηт тσ ℓσσѕє. → α вєαυтιƒυℓ тнσυgнт!! тнє ρєяѕση ωнσ ¢αη єχρℓαιη тнє мєαηιηg σƒ ¢σℓσя тσ α вℓιη∂ ¢αη єχρℓαιη αηутнιηg &αмρ; єνєяутнιηg ιη ℓιƒє! → ιƒ уσυ нανє α ѕмιℓє &αмρ; уσυ ∂ση’т υѕє ιт. ιт мєαηѕ уσυ нανє αη α¢¢συηт σƒ мιℓℓιση ∂σℓℓαяѕ ιη вαηк вυт уσυ нανє ησ ¢нє¢к вσσк. → ωєℓℓ ωιѕнєя ιѕ ησт ωнσ мєєтѕ уσυ єνєяу∂αу &αмρ; тαℓк тσ уσυ єνєяу∂αу. ωєℓℓ ωιѕнєя ιѕ σηє ωнσ мαу σя мαу ησт мєєт уσυ вυт αℓωαуѕ тнιηк σƒ уσυ &αмρ; уσυя нαρριηєѕ. → σηє ∂αу υ мαу αѕк мє: ωнαт ιѕ мσяє ιмρσятαηт тσ уσυ, мє σя уσυя ℓιƒє? ι ωιℓℓ ѕαу: му ℓιƒє… уσυ ωιℓℓ ωαℓк αωαу ƒяσм мє ωιтнσυт кησωιηg тнαт υ я му ℓιƒє! → ωнєη ѕσмєσηє нυятѕ уσυ αη∂ уσυ ∂ι∂η’т нυят вα¢к ωнєη ѕσмєσηє ѕнσυтѕ αт уσυ αη∂ уσυ ∂ι∂η’т ѕнσυт вα¢к вυт ωнєη ѕσмєσηє ηєє∂ѕ уσυ уσυ αℓωαуѕ ¢σмє вα¢к → α вυѕу ℓιƒє мαкєѕ ρяαуєяѕ нαя∂єя, вυт ρяαуєяѕ мαкє α нαя∂ αη∂ вυѕу ℓιƒє єαѕιєя. ѕσ αℓωαуѕ кєєρ ρяαуιηg αη∂ яємємвєя мє ιη уσυя ρяαуєяѕ. → ℓιƒє ιѕ 4 ℓινιηg, ι ℓινє 4 υ. ѕσηgѕ я 4 ѕιηgιηg, ι ѕιηg 4 υ. ℓσνє ιѕ 4 ¢αяιηg, ι ¢αяє 4 υ. αηgєℓѕ я 4 кєєριηg, ¢αη ι кєєρ υ…? → ѕα¢яιƒι¢є ιѕ gяєαтєя тнαη ℓσνє. ¢нαяα¢тєя ιѕ gяєαтєя тнαη вєαυту. нυмαηιту ιѕ gяєαтєя тнαη ωєαℓтн. вυт ησтнιηg ιѕ gяєαтєя тнαη gσσ∂ яєℓαтισηѕ. → нαρριєѕт ρєσρℓє ∂ση’т нανє “єνєяу тнιηg вєѕт” ιη ℓιƒє. тнєу נυѕт мαкє тнє “вєѕт σƒ єνєяу тнιηg” тнαт ℓιƒє вяιηgѕ тнєιя ωαу!! ѕтαу нαρρу!! → ι нανє ℓιкє∂ мαηу вυт ℓσνє∂ νєяу ƒєω. уєт ησ-σηє нαѕ вєєη αѕ ѕωєєт αѕ υ. ι ωσυℓ∂ ѕтαη∂ αη∂ ωαιт ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂ѕ ℓσηgєѕт qυєυє. נυѕт ƒσя тнє ρℓєαѕυяє σƒ α мσмєηт ωιтн υ. → ρєяƒє¢тιση ιѕ ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ вє α¢нιєνє∂ ¢σмρℓєтєℓу ву αηуσηє ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂. вт ιƒ уσυ кєєρ ¢нαѕιηg ρєяƒє¢тιση, ѕσмєωнєяє ση тнє ωαу уσυ мαу ¢αт¢н єχ¢єℓℓєη¢є! → ηєνєя тнιηк мσяє αвσυт ραѕт, ιт вяιηgѕ тєαяѕ ∂ση’т тнιηк мσяє αвσυт ƒυтυяє, ιт вяιηgѕ ƒєαяѕ тнιηк мσяє αвσυт мє ωнι¢н αℓωαуѕ вяιηgѕ ¢нєєяѕ. → тнєяє я ѕσмє σƒ тнє яσмαηтι¢ ¢συηтяιєѕ ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂, “н.σ.ℓ.ℓ.α.η.∂” нσρ συя ℓσνє ℓαѕт αη∂ ηєνєя ∂ιєѕ… “ι.т.α.ℓ.у” ι тяυѕт αη∂ ℓσνє уσυ… “ℓ.ι.в.у.α” ℓσνє ιѕ вєαυтιƒυℓ уσυ αℓѕσ… αη∂ тнιѕ ιѕ му ƒανσυяιтє…. “ƒ.я.α.η.¢.є” ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ яємαιηѕ αη∂ ηєνєя ¢αη єη∂… → ѕσмє ƒяιєη∂ѕ ƒσяgєт ѕσмє мσνє αωαу ѕσмє кєєρ ѕιℓєηт ѕσмє נυѕт ¢нαηgє вυт ι’м ησт 1 σƒ тнєм. ι’м нєяє נυѕт 4 тωσ мσмєηтѕ .. ησω &αмρ; 4єνєя…!!:) → тιρѕ тσ вєαт тнє ѕυммєя 1- ∂яιηк ℓσт σƒ ƒяєѕн ωαтєя 2- ¢σνєя уσυя нєα∂ ωнєη συтѕι∂є 3- єαт νєgєтαвℓєѕ вυт мσѕт ιмρσятαηт 4- мєѕѕαgє мє ∂αιℓу в¢σz ι м ѕσ ¢σσσℓ..:-) → ι ¢συℓ∂ ƒιℓℓ α 1000 ραgєѕ тєℓℓιηg υ нσω ι ƒєєℓ, αη∂ ѕтιℓℓ υ ωσυℓ∂ ησт υη∂єяѕтαη∂.. ѕσ ησω ι ℓєανє ω/σ α ѕσυη∂, єχ¢єρт му нєαят ѕнαттєяιηg αѕ ιт нιтѕ тнє gяσυη∂. → ∂ση’т вє ∂ιѕαρρσιηтє∂ ιƒ тнє ωσяℓ∂ яєƒυѕєѕ тσ нєℓρ уσυ. яємємвєя ∂є ωσя∂ѕ σƒ єιηѕтєιη: “ι м тнαηкƒυℓ тσ αℓℓ тнσѕє ωнσ ѕαι∂ ησ тσ мє. ιтѕ в¢σz σƒ тнм, ι ∂ι∂ ιт муѕєℓƒ.” → ωнєη уσυ’яє αηgяу αт ѕσмєσηє αη∂ gєт ιяяιтαтє∂ тιмє тσ тιмє вυт уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ¢αη’т ℓινє ωιтнσυт нιм/нєя тнєη ιт’ѕ тяυє яєℓαтιση”..! → ιƒ тιмє ∂σєѕη’т ωαιт ƒσя уσυ, ∂ση’т ωσяяу! נυѕт яємσνє тнє вαттєяу ƒяσм тнє ¢ℓσ¢к αη∂ єηנσу ℓιƒє…! gяєαт ρєσρℓє gяєαт тнσυgнтѕ → αм ι ¢υтє? тєѕт ¢αℓℓ, ιƒ ι м ¢υтє мιѕѕ ¢αℓℓ, ιƒ ι м gσяgєσυѕ тєχт вα¢к ιƒ ι м ρяєтту тєχт α נσкє ιƒ ι м ¢нαямιηg נυѕт ιgησяє ιƒ υ я נєαℓσυѕ → тнιѕ ¢υяισυѕ gяєєη ωσяℓ∂ gινє мє ѕρℓιт ѕє¢ση∂ ƒσя ℓσνє тнє ωαу ι ℓινє тнє ωαу ι яєѕρє¢т ησ σηє ¢αη тнιηк ησ σηє ¢αη gινє му ƒєєℓιηgѕ αяє ηєω нαя∂ ¢σяє∂ ƒσя мє ωσяℓ∂ ιѕ ησ мσяє → ℓιƒє ιѕ α נσυяηєу тнαт ιѕ ησт мєαηт тσ вє мα∂є ѕαƒєℓу. ι ωαηт тσ ℓινє му ℓιƒє ιη α ωαу тнαт ωнєη ι gєт яєαℓℓу σℓ∂, ι ℓσσк вα¢к αт му ℓιƒє αη∂ ѕαу: ααн ι ℓινє∂ ιт, ησт ѕυяνινє∂ ιт.

→ ιƒ 10 ρєσρℓє ¢αяє 4 υ, σηє σƒ тнєм ιѕ мє, ιƒ 1 ρєяѕση ¢αяєѕ 4 υ тнαт ωσυℓ∂ вє мє αgαιη, ιƒ ησ 1 ¢αяєѕ 4 υ тнαт мєαηѕ ι м ησт ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂. → ιƒ ι нα∂ σηє ℓαѕт ωιѕн вєƒσяє ι ∂ιє … му ℓαѕт ωιѕн ωσυℓ∂ вє тнαт , уσυ ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ¢яу → тяυє ¢αяє ωιℓℓ ηєνєя gσ υηяє¢σgηιzє∂, тнσυgн σηє σƒтєη мαкєѕ мιѕтαкєѕ ιη ναℓυιηg ιт, вυт σηє ωιℓℓ ∂єƒιηιтℓу υη∂єяѕтαη∂ ση¢є ωнєη тнєу ѕтαят мιѕѕιηg ιт. → мαη тσ gσ∂: “ρℓєαѕє gινє мє єνєяутнιηg ѕσ тнαт ι ¢αη єηנσу ℓιƒє…” gσ∂ ѕмιℓє∂ αη∂ яєρℓιє∂: “ι нανє gινєη уσυ ℓιƒє тσ єηנσу єνєяутнιηg…” → ι ωιѕн αη αηgєℓ σƒ мєя¢у αℓωαуѕ ѕιтѕ ηєχт тσ уσυ &αмρ; ¢σνєяѕ уσυ ωιтн gєηтℓє ωιηgѕ ѕσ тнαт, уσυ ωαℓк ωяαρρє∂ ιη αℓℓαн’ѕ gяα¢є, ρяσтє¢тє∂ &αмρ; ρєα¢єƒυℓ ƒσяєνєя → ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓιкє α мιяяσя. ιƒ уσυ ƒяσωη αт ιт, ιт ƒяσωηѕ вα¢к. ιƒ уσυ ѕмιℓє αт ιт, ιт яєтυяηѕ тнє gяєєтιηg.

→ υя ѕку ιѕ αѕ мυ¢н αѕ υ’∂ ωαηт тσ яєα¢н, υя ℓιƒє ιѕ αѕ ℓσηєℓу αѕ υ’∂ ℓιкє тσ мαкє; υя נσу ιѕ αѕ мυ¢н αѕ υ ∂є¢ι∂є тσ ƒєєℓ, υя ηιтє ιѕ αѕ ℓσηg αѕ уσυ ∂є¢ι∂є тσ ωαкє. ησ σηє ѕєтѕ тнє ℓιмιт ƒσя υ, ησ σηє ¢αη єт¢н тнє ѕραη σƒ тнє ѕку, αℓℓ υ ηєє∂ тσ ∂σ ιѕ яιѕє, ѕρяєα∂ υя ωιηgѕ &αмρ; ∂є¢ι∂є тσ ƒℓу. → вує ιѕ α ℓιттℓє ωσя∂ тнαт ¢αυѕєѕ ѕσ мυ¢н ραιη. тнє ρєяѕση уσυ нσℓ∂ ησω мιgнт ηєνєя мєєт уσυ αgαιη. ѕσ ηєνєя ѕαу “вує” αℓωαуѕ ѕαу “мєєт уσυ αgαιη” σя “ѕєє уσυ ѕσση” ѕєη∂ ιт тσ тнσѕє ωнσм уσυ ηєνєя ωαηт тσ ѕαу ‘вує’ ιη уσυя ℓιƒє. → тнє нαя∂єѕт ραят σƒ мιѕѕιηg ƒяιєη∂ѕ ιѕ ησт тнєιя αвѕєη¢є, ιт’ѕ ωнєη уσυ тнιηк σƒ αℓℓ тнσѕє gσσ∂ тιмєѕ αη∂ αѕк уσυяѕєℓƒ, ‘ωιℓℓ тнσѕє мσмєηтѕ єνєя нαρρєη αgαιη?’ → ѕωєєт ιѕ уσυя “ηαтυяє” ∂єαя ιѕ уσυя “ηαмє” αѕ єαятн ωαηтѕ “ωαтєя” ƒℓσωєя ωαηтѕ “∂єω” ι ωαηт ησтнιηg вυт “нαρριηєѕѕ” ƒσя υ → ηєνєя вє ρяσυ∂ ησя ∂єρяєѕѕє∂ ƒσя ωнαт уσυ αяє αη∂ тнє ρσѕιтιση уσυ нσℓ∂ ιη ѕσ¢ιєту! яємємвєя, ωнєη тнє gαмє σƒ ¢нєѕѕ ιѕ σνєя, вσтн кιηg αη∂ ραωηѕ gσ ιη ѕαмє вσχ! → ωнєη ρяσвℓємѕ αяє ѕσ вιg αη∂ уσυя ѕтяєηgтн ιѕ ησ ℓσηgєя єησυgн тσ ¢αяяу тнєм, ∂ση’т gιν υρ. ωнєяє уσυя ѕтяєηgтн єη∂ѕ, тнє gяα¢є σƒ gσ∂ вєgιηѕ ωιтн. → υ я тнσυѕαη∂ѕ σƒ мιℓєѕ αωαу ƒяσм мє, ѕтιℓℓ ι\'м ωαт¢нιηg υя єνєяу мσνємєηт ση 3 ∂郃т ¢нαηηєℓѕ: ρσgσ, ¢αятσση ηєтωσяк &αмρ; αηιмαℓ ρℓαηєт. тнηχ тσ мє∂ια.

→ ωнєη уσυ αяє тσ ƒαѕт тσ gєт ѕσмєωнєяє, уσυ мιѕѕ тнє ƒυη σƒ gєттιηg тнєяє. ℓιƒє ιѕ ησт α яα¢є, ѕσ тαкє ιт ѕℓσωєя αη∂ єηנσу тнє мυѕι¢ вєƒσяє тнє ѕσηg’ѕ σνєя ! → σηє ∂αу му вяαιη αѕкє∂ мє “у я υ ѕєη∂ιηg мѕgѕ тσ тнαт ρєяѕση ωнσ ιѕ ησт мєѕѕαgιηg υ? вυт му ℓιттℓє “нєαят” ѕαι∂ тσ вяαιη “υ” ηєє∂ мѕgѕ вυт ι ηєє∂ “ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ” → ωнєη ι ωαѕ α кι∂. ι ωαηтє∂ тσ gяσω υρ ѕσση. ησω тнαт ι gяσωη υρ, ι яєαℓιzє тнαт ωσυη∂є∂ ємσтισηѕ αη∂ вяσкєη нєαятѕ.

ℑ 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔞 𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭, 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔯𝔶, 𝔦𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔰 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰. 𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔟𝔶𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔭𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔶, 𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔡.

𝔇𝔦𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔬𝔯 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔢𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰, 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢, 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠? 𝔇𝔦𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔴𝔯𝔞𝔭 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱, 𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔭𝔬𝔨𝔢, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡? 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰𝔫’𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤; 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱’𝔰 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰, 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯’𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

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

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤: • when you are exhausted mentally • when you are desperate or impatient • when emotions are getting on your way • when you are in total disbelief of yourself • when makes you feel uncomfortable • when you feel like it 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕡 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕡𝕤 𝕒𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕 (✯◡✯)

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON iv (Autistic author) (see notes below) * ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪsᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 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 normalcy—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.*

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝕽𝖔𝖆𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

𝔏𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶

𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞 𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔡….𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔨𝔢𝔶….𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔬𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔳𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫

𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔓𝔲𝔱 𝔢𝔣𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔡𝔞𝔶, “𝔦𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫” 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔢. -🍂 ☕️🍂

-ღ´-𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖖𝖚𝖔𝖙𝖊 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖆 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖕𝖍𝖞𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊. “𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝖎𝖘 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖒𝖊, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖆 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘,” 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖆 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖕𝖍𝖞𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝖆𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙.-ღ´-ღ´-

ℑ𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔢 𝔘𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔦𝔡

-`ღ´-𝔚𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔡𝔬 𝔲𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬…＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚▪︎ 𝔚𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔡𝔬 𝔲𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬

𝔠𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲; 𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔪𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔫

𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔶, 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔶 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢; 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔡𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯

𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔣𝔲𝔩, 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔬𝔫𝔢

𝔄𝔪𝔬 𝔐𝔲𝔠𝔥𝔬 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥, 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔢𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔲𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔤𝔩𝔬𝔴. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯, 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪, 𝔣𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔧𝔬𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰. ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔬𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔪𝔶 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢, ℑ 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢.

𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔧𝔢𝔰𝔲𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱, 𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔤𝔬𝔡, 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔪𝔢; 𝔞 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔯

ℌ𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲 & ℑ 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡, 𝔖𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔨𝔢𝔭𝔱, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡. 𝔐𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱, ℑ𝔫 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱. ℑ𝔫 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔡, ℑ𝔫 𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔢𝔱 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔡. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢, 𝔞 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔥𝔲𝔪, 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔤, 𝔞 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔡𝔯𝔲𝔪. ℑ𝔫 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔧𝔬𝔶 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢, ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔷𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔢, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔢, 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔴𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡, 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢'𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔰𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔢. ℑ𝔫 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔡𝔬 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔱, ℑ𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢'𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔯𝔥𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔪, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔡𝔬 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱. ℑ𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔴, ℑ𝔫 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔨𝔢𝔭𝔱, 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔡𝔬 𝔤𝔩𝔬𝔴.

♡ ℑ𝔫 𝔞 𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔪, 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔪𝔢, 𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔤.

ℑ𝔣 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶, 𝔴𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤. 𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯, 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰

𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢. 𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔨 𝔲𝔭 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔟𝔢. 𝔚𝔢’𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔬 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔲𝔭 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰. ℑ𝔫𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔡. 𝔖𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔦𝔱. 𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔤𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔞 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔟 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔢, 𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔨 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢, 𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔶 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔪 𝔞 𝔱𝔲𝔫𝔢. 𝔗𝔲𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢. 𝔊𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰, 𝔟𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣. 𝔅𝔞𝔡 𝔫𝔢𝔴𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔱. 𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔦𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡. ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥.

ℑ𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢, 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔩𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔨𝔦𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢. ℑ'𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢

ღ 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔞 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔪, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔯𝔶, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔲𝔭, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 ! 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔰, 𝔰𝔬 𝔦𝔣 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫'𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔯, 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫, 𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔫, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 - 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱

-`ღ´-𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱-`ღ´- 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔨𝔶,𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫.𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔴𝔢’𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔰,𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱. 𝔑𝔬 𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥, 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔲𝔰,𝔟𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡,𝔰𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢—𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰. ℑ’𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔞𝔶,𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢,𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔱

𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔊𝔬𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 ℌ𝔦𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔦𝔫𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔡𝔬𝔪. 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔴𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔳𝔢.“ 🙏

ღ ℑ𝔫 𝔞 𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔡, 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢,𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢, 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩'𝔰 𝔢𝔠𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰.ℭ𝔥𝔬𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱,𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥, 𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔰 𝔥𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱.𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫,𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔶 𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔱𝔰, 𝔗𝔯𝔲𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔤𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔬𝔯 𝔤𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔫

𝔟𝔢𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡, 𝔦 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰. 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢, 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔡𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔰

-`ღ´-𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰, 𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔫𝔬 𝔢𝔫𝔡.

“𝔉𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔥 𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔟𝔶 𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔥 𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔧𝔞𝔴𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣. 𝔄𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔩𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔶. ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.”

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 that—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 else—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.

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 back— 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.

𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔱 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔢𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔘𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔶𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔶𝔢𝔱 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔄𝔩𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔪𝔢; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔳𝔞𝔦𝔫. 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔡𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔪𝔢; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢.

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝕱𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖍 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖐 𝕸𝖞 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖌𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖍 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘.

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?"

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."

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."

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.