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

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 v (Autistic author) Eventually, Plankton stirs, his antennae twitching slightly. His eye opens, and for a moment, he's disoriented. He looks at Chip, then at his hand on his own, and a flicker of memory passes through his eye. He then pulls his hand away. "It's okay, Dad," Chip says softly. "I'm here." Plankton's expression shifts. He sighs, his eye dropping to his son's hand. "Chip," he murmurs. "Wh-what happened?" Chip's heart skips a beat. He wasn't sure how much to say, but he knew he couldn't lie. "You had another... moment," he says carefully. Plankton's face falls, the weight of his own reality crashing down on him like a heavy fog. He nods slowly, his eye searching the room as if trying to piece together the puzzle of his lost time. "I'm sorry," Chip says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know." Plankton's eye meets his, the anger dissipating like the fog. "It's not your fault," he says, his voice weary. "I just... I can't handle much sometimes." Chip nods, feeling a lump in his throat. "Can I hug you?" he asks tentatively, remembering his mother's advice. Plankton's antennae droop, his eye searching Chip's face. After a moment, he nods. "Yes, but just for a second." Chip leans in carefully, wrapping his arms around his dad's shoulders. Plankton tenses, his body a coil of nerves. The hug is brief, but it feels like an eternity to Chip. He pulls back, his eyes searching Plankton's face. "Are you okay?" Plankton's eye blinks slowly. "I will be," he says, his voice weary. "I just need some time to regroup." Chip nods, his mind racing with questions and fears. He didn't know what to say, how to fix this. He just knew he didn't want his dad to feel like this. Karen watches from the doorway, her heart heavy with the weight of the unspoken words between them. She wishes she could take the pain away, but she knows that this moment belonged to her husband and her son. Chip's hand lingers in the space where Plankton's was, feeling the warmth that's no longer there. He swallows hard, trying to push his fears aside. "What can I do?" he asks, his voice trembling. Plankton takes a deep breath, his antennae twitching as he tries to gather his thoughts. "Just maybe try not to touch me... unless I ask." The words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that's opened between them. Chip nods solemnly, his heart heavy. He doesn't fully understand his dad's condition, but he knows it's real and it's painful. And he knows he played a part in it today. "Dad," he starts tentatively, "Can we talk about your... moments?" Plankton's antennae droop. "What do you want to know?" he asks, his voice sounding more tired than defensive. Chip takes a deep breath, trying to formulate his thoughts. "Well, I just want to understand what you go through. What happens during those moments?" Plankton looks away, his face contorting with the effort of explaining. "It's like my brain goes on a vacation without me," he says finally. "Everything's too much, and I just... zone out." Chip nods, trying to picture it. "What's it like? The zoning out, I mean." Plankton sighs, his antennae waving slightly. "It's like... being in a movie theater, but instead of watching the movie, the lights and sounds are all around me. They're too bright, too loud. And when I come back, it's like the movie's still playing in fast forward. I miss parts of it, and I can't rewind." Chip's eyes widen with understanding. "So, it's like a break, but it's not fun for you?" Plankton nods. "It's more like a reboot. My brain needs it, but it's scary not knowing when it'll happen or how long it'll last." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, seeing the vulnerability behind the usual bravado. "But why do you get so mad sometimes?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his face contorting with the effort of explaining. "It's like... everything's too much, and then I can't stop it," he said. "It's like being stuck in a loop of noises and feelings, and I just need to make it stop. And sometimes, that means getting angry." Chip's eyes searched his dad's, trying to understand. "But why does it make you so mad?" Plankton's antennae drooped. "It's not just from anger," he corrected gently. "It's overstimulation. My brain can't process everything at once, so it shuts down to protect itself." Chip nodded, his eyes wide with realization. He'd never thought of it like that before. "So, it's like you're in a crowded room, and everyone's talking at you at the same time?" Plankton's eye lit up slightly. "Exactly," he said, his voice a mix of relief and exhaustion. "And when you touch me afterward, it's like someone turning the volume up even louder." Chip's hand retreated to his lap, understanding dawning on his face. "So, it's like... sensory overload?" Plankton nodded, his eye closing briefly. "Yes, it's like my brain's circuits are fried, and I just need a reset." Chip sat quietly, absorbing his father's words. He'd never thought about it from that perspective before. He knew his dad was different, but he didn't understand the depth of his struggle. "What about the seizures?" Chip asked, his voice tentative. "Do they feel like that too?" Plankton nodded, his antennae waving slightly. "They're like... a storm in my head," he said, his voice strained. "They come without warning, and I can't do anything to stop them. It's like everything's too much, and my brain has to shut down to protect itself." Chip's eyes grew wide with empathy. "That sounds scary. But I've seen you hug mom.." Plankton sighed, his antennae waving slightly. "It's different with your mom. She knows how to touch me without making it too much." Chip's mind raced, trying to grasp the complexities of his dad's neurodivergence. "But how?" he pressed, eager to learn. Plankton took a moment to gather his thoughts. "It's like...everything is too loud or too bright, and I can't just turn it down. So, when I get overwhelmed, my brain goes to 'sleep' for a bit." Chip nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on his father's antennae which had stopped their erratic twitching. "But what if I want to hug you?" he asked, his voice tentative. Plankton's eye opened, a glimmer of something akin to hope flickering within its depths. "Then you ask," he said simply. "You ask, and if I say yes, you hug me gently. Like this." He demonstrated by placing his own hand on Chip's shoulder, his grip firm but not tight. "But only if I'm okay with it, okay?" Chip nodded, feeling a weight lift slightly from his chest. "Okay," he whispered, his voice shaky with emotion.

GREAT CHIP 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.

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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...

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

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* ੈ♡‧₊˚

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.

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

Tuesday 16 October 2012 Broken Heart SMS Broken Heart SMS → ι яємємвєя нιм ησт αѕ тнє σηє ωнσ вяσкє му нєαят. вυт ι яємємвєя нιм αѕ тнє σηє ωнσ тєα¢н мє нσω тσ ℓινє ωιтн α вяσкєη нєαят. → ι ¢αηησт єяαѕє ƒяσм му нєαят ѕωєєт мємσяιєѕ σƒ уσυ тну тσηgυє ѕнαяρ αѕ α ∂αят му ρσσя нєαят єѕ¢нєω. → σηє ιη уσυя ℓιƒє ωιℓℓ нυят уσυ ѕσσηєя σя ℓαтєя. вυт уσυ ωιℓℓ нανє тσ ∂є¢ι∂є. ωнαт ιѕ мσяє ιмρσятαηт? тнє ραιη σя тнє ρєяѕση…?? → нανє υ єνєя вєєη нυят αη∂ тнє ρℓα¢є тяιєѕ тσ нєαℓ α вιт αη∂ υ נυѕт ρυℓℓ тнє ѕ¢αя 域 σƒ ιт σνєя αη∂ σνєя αgαιη... → ι кησω, ѕнє ωαѕ тнє тнє мσѕт ρяєѕтιgισυѕ gιƒт ι єνєя яє¢єινє∂! вυт! ѕσмєтιмєѕ ι яєαℓℓу ƒєєℓ ι ωαѕ נυѕт α gαмє ѕнє ρℓαує∂! → яєαℓ тєαяѕ αяє ησт тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм єуєѕ αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ƒα¢є, вυт тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм нєαят αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ѕσυℓ … → ѕσ ι gυєѕѕ тнαт ι\'м ∂α ℓσѕєя ¢αυѕє υ нαν ƒσυη∂ ѕσмє1 ηєω вυт ι\'м ѕтιℓℓ нєяє, ѕтιℓℓ αℓℓ αℓσηє נυѕт ¢яуιηg σνєя υ → α ℓσνєℓу ƒα¢т: ησвσ∂у ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂ ¢αη нανє α ¢яуѕтαℓ ¢ℓєαя нєαят вє¢αυѕє єνєяуσηє’ѕ нєαят нαѕ ѕσмє ѕ¢яαт¢нєѕ ѕ¢яιввℓє∂ ву тнєιя ∂єαя σηєѕ. → ι яєєαℓℓу ℓυν υ ... υ ℓυν ѕυм 1 єℓѕє ωє ι ¢ υ ι ¢αηт му єуєѕ ι υѕ ωαηт υ 2 ѕєу нσω мυ¢н ι ¢αяє αвт υ мє ι ¢υ∂ ѕєу υ αт ѕυм тιмєє ..... ι ℓυν уυ мσя тнαη му ѕєℓƒ → ѕσмє вяσкєη нєαятѕ, мαу ηєνєя мєη∂, ѕσмє мємσяιєѕ мαу ηєνєя єη∂, ѕσмє ωєт тєαяѕ мαу ηєνєя ∂яу, вυт му ℓσνє ƒσя уσυ ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ∂ιє… → ωєη α νєяу ѕωєєт η ¢ℓσѕє ρєяѕση gσєѕ тσσ ƒαя ƒям υѕ, ωє мαу ѕαу σя ησт ѕαу вυт συя нєαят ѕαуѕ 2 тня нєαят: \&qυσт;υ мα∂є мє αℓσηє..\&qυσт; → тнє мσѕт ¢яιтι¢αℓ мσмєηт ιη ℓιƒє. ωнєη ѕσмєσηє νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ нυятѕ уσυ ѕσ ∂єєρℓу, ¢αυѕєѕ тєαяѕ ιη уσυя єуєѕ. αη∂ αѕк, “ωнαт нαρρєη”? вυт уσυ נυѕт яєρℓу, “ησтнιηg” → ℓσνє ιѕ мє∂ι¢ιηє, ƒσя αηу кιη∂ σƒ ραιη. вυт вє ѕυяє тнαт…! тнєяє ιѕ ησ мє∂ι¢ιηє ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂, ƒσя тнє ραιη gινєη ву ℓσνє. → тнє ѕα∂∂єѕт ωσя∂ ву α ¢нιℓ∂, ωнσ ℓσѕт нιѕ ραяєηтѕ ιη тѕυηαмι, ѕтαη∂ιηg ву тнє ѕєα ѕнσяє, ѕєα ι’ℓℓ ηєνєя ƒσяgινє уσυ, єνєη ιƒ уσυ тσυ¢н му ƒєєт α тнσυѕαη∂ тιмєѕ. → \&qυσт;ѕєραяαтιση\&qυσт; ιѕ α ωσυη∂ тнαт ησ σηє ¢αη \&qυσт;нєαℓ\&qυσт; вυт \&qυσт;яємємвєяαη¢є\&qυσт; ιѕ α gιƒт тнαт ησ σηє ¢αη \&qυσт;ѕтєαℓ\&qυσт; кєєρ уσυя мємσяιєѕ ιηтα¢т → му нαη∂ѕ ηєνєя ραιη ωнєη туριηg мєѕѕαgє ƒσя уσυ..! вυт му нєαят αℓωαуѕ ιη ραιη, ωнєη тнєяє ιѕ ησ яєρℓу ƒяσм уσυ…! → ѕσмєтιмєѕ, ι ωιѕн ¢єятαιη ρєσρℓє ωσηт тєℓℓ мє тнαт тнєу ℓσνє мє.. ωαηηα кησω ωну? ѕσ тнαт ι ωσηт ωαѕтє му тιмє вєℓιєνιηg тнєιя ѕωєєтєѕт ℓιєѕ.... → ℓσνє αη∂ ∂єαтн αяє тωσ υηιηνιтє∂ gυєѕтѕ ωнєη ωιℓℓ тнєу ¢σмє..? ησ вσ∂у кησωѕ вυт вσтн нανє ѕιмιℓαя єƒƒє¢тѕ σηє тαкєѕ тнє нєαтѕ αη∂ σтнєя тαкєѕ ιтѕ вєαт. → ι ωιѕн ιм α ѕтσηє.. ѕσ ωнєη ¢σмєѕ у ωαηт мє συт σƒ я у ¢αη тняσω мє αѕ ƒαя αѕ у ¢υ∂. ι мαу вяєαк ιηтσ ριє¢єѕ, вυт αт ℓєαѕт ι ωσηт αηу ραιη.. → мємσяιєѕ ρℓαу νєяу ¢σηƒυѕιηg яσℓє. мαкє уσυ ℓαυgн ωнєη уσυ яємємвєя тнє тιмє уσυ ¢яιє∂ тσgєтнєя. вυт мαкє уσυ ¢яу ωнєη уσυ яємємвєя тнє тιмє уσυ ℓαυgнє∂ тσgєтнєя. тнєяє αяє тωσ яєαѕσηѕ ωну ι ωαкє υρ ιη тнє мσяηιηg: му αℓαям ¢ℓσ¢к αη∂ уσυ. → тнєяє я ƒєω тнιηgѕ тαт мυѕт вє ∂ση в4 σηє ѕαуѕ gσσ∂вує σηє\'ѕ єуєѕ мυѕт 4gєт αησтнєя\'ѕ ƒα¢є σηє\'ѕ єαяѕ мυѕт 4gєт αησтнєя\'ѕ νσι¢є σηє\'ѕ мιη∂ мυѕт 4gєт αησтнєя\'ѕ ηαмє. σηє\'ѕ нєαят мυѕт 4gєт тнαт нє/ѕнє нα∂ ℓσνє∂ тнαт ρєяѕση мσяє тнαη нιѕ/нєя σωη ℓιƒє → ι яєαℓℓу ℓσνє υ ... вυт υ ℓσνє ѕσмє1 єℓѕє ωнєη ι ¢ υ ι ¢αη\'т ¢ℓσѕє му єуєѕ ι נυѕт ωαηт υ 2 ѕαу нσω мυ¢н ι ¢αяє αвσυт υ мαу ι ¢συℓ∂ ѕαу υ αт ѕσмєтιмє ..... ι ℓσνє υ мσяє тнαη муѕєℓƒ Posted by Kiran Bele at 04:19

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 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?"

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

⋆ ˚｡⋆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

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♥

Thursday 11 October 2012 love messeges love messeges → σƒ αℓℓ тнє ƒяιєη∂ѕ ι\'νє єνєя мєт. уσυя тнє σηє ι ωση\'т ƒσяgєт. αη∂ ιƒ ι ∂ιє вєƒσяє уσυ ∂σ, ι\'ℓℓ gσ тσ нєανєη αη∂ ωαιт ƒσя уσυ. → ωнєη тнє ηιgнт ¢σмєѕ, ℓσσк αт тнє ѕку. ιƒ уσυ ѕєє α ƒαℓℓιηg ѕтαя, ∂ση\'т ωση∂єя ωну, נυѕт мαкє α ωιѕн. тяυѕт мє, ιт ωιℓℓ ¢σмє тяυє, вє¢αυѕє ι ∂ι∂ ιт αη∂ ι ƒσυη∂ уσυ. → ωσя∂ѕ нσωєνєя ѕρє¢ιαℓ... ¢συℓ∂ ηєνєя єνєη ѕтαят, тσ тєℓℓ уσυ αℓℓ тнє ℓσνє ι нανє ƒσя уσυ ωιтнιη му нєαят. χχχ → ι ƒєєℓ ѕσмєтнιηg ιη му нєαят, ιт\'ѕ ℓιкє α ℓιттℓє ƒℓαмє, єνєяу тιмє ι ѕєє уσυ, тнιѕ ƒℓαмє ℓιgнтѕ υρ, тнιѕ ƒℓαмє ιѕ ѕρє¢ιαℓ ƒσя уσυ, вє¢αυѕє ι ℓσνє уσυ!.… → ℓσνє υη∂єя тнє ѕтαяѕ... тнєу ѕєєм νєяу ƒαя, вυт уσυ αяє ѕσ ¢ℓσѕє тнє ѕтαя ι ℓσνє тнє мσѕт. → ѕσмєωнєяє, ѕσмє1 ∂яєαмѕ σƒ уσυя ѕмιℓє &αмρ; ƒιη∂ѕ уσυя ρяєѕєη¢є ιη ℓιƒє ѕσ ωσятнωнιℓє. ѕσ ωнєη уσυя ℓσηєℓу, яємємвєя ιтѕ тяυє тнαт ѕσмє1, ѕσмєωнєяє, ιѕ тнιηкιηg σƒ υ. → тнєяєѕ α ωαямтн ιη му нєαят. ιт нαυηтѕ мє ωнєη уσυ\'яє gσηє. мєη∂ мє тσ уσυя ѕι∂є αη∂ ηєνєя ℓєт gσ. тнє мσяє ι ℓινє тнє мσяє ι кησω, ωнαт\'ѕ ѕιмρℓє ιѕ тяυє, ι ℓσνє уσυ. → ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє ιѕ ωнєη ѕнє ƒαℓℓѕ αѕℓєєρ ιη уσυя αямѕ αη∂ ωαкєѕ υρ ιη уσυя ∂яєαмѕ ! → му ℓσνє, ωσя∂ѕ нσωєνєя ѕρє¢ιαℓ ... ¢συℓ∂ ηєνєя єνєη ѕтαят, тσ тєℓℓ уσυ αℓℓ тнє ℓσνє ι нανє ƒσя уσυ ωιтнιη му нєαят!!! → тнє ∂αу тнαт ι\'ℓℓ ∂ιє, ωнєη ∂єαтн яєρℓα¢єѕ вιятн, ι\'ℓℓ яє¢σgηιzє αηgєℓѕ\' ƒα¢єѕ, вє¢αυѕє ι ℓινє ωιтн σηє ση єαятн. → ℓσνιηg уσυ ¢συℓ∂ тαкє му ℓιƒє, вυт ωнєη ι ℓσσк ιηтσ уσυя єуєѕ, ι кησω уσυ\'яє ωσятн тнαт ѕα¢яαƒι¢є! → нєανєη ιѕ тнє ρℓα¢є ωнєяє ι ωσυℓ∂ вє, тнє ∂αу уσυ ωσυℓ∂ ѕтσρ ℓσνιηg мє! → ι мιѕѕ уσυ ... ι ηєє∂ уσυ ... мσяє αη∂ мσяє .... єα¢н ∂αу ... ι ℓσνє уσυ ... мσяє тнαη ωσя∂ѕ ... ¢αη єνєя ѕαу. → ιƒ α вιg ƒαт мαη ¢яєєρѕ ιηтσ уσυя вє∂яσσм σηє ηιgнт αη∂ ѕтυƒƒѕ уσυ ιηтσ α вαg, тнєη ∂σ ησт ωσяяу \'¢αυѕє ι тσℓ∂ ѕαηтα ι ωαηтє∂ уσυ ƒσя ¢няιѕтмαѕ! → тнє нαя∂єѕт тнιηg ιη ℓιƒє ιѕ ωαт¢нιηg ѕσмєσηє уσυ ℓσνє , ℓσνιηg ѕσмєσηє єℓѕє. → ℓσνє ιѕ нαя∂ αη∂ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє, вυт яємємвєя ѕσмєвσ∂у ℓσνєѕ уσυ αη∂ тнαт σηє ιѕ мє ! → ∂ση\'т ℓσνє 1, ∂ση\'т ℓσνє 2, вυт ℓσνє тнє 1 ωнσ ℓσνєѕ уσυ. → тнє ωσя∂ѕ αяє єαѕу ωнєη тнє ℓαηgυαgє ιѕ ℓσνє ! → тнєяє ιѕ ѕσмєвσ∂у ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂. ∂ιƒєяєηт ƒяσм тнє яєѕт. тнє ѕωєєтєѕт ρєяѕση ι кησω. тнαт ιѕ ωну ι ℓσνє уσυ ѕσ. → уσυ ѕнσωє∂ мє нσω ιт ιѕ тσ вє ℓσνє∂. ησω ι кησω ωнαт яєαℓℓу ℓσνє ιѕ. 1 ∂αу ωє ωιℓℓ вє тσgєтнєя ƒσяєνєя. ι ¢αη\'т ωαιт тσ нσℓ∂ уσυ ιη му αямѕ αgαιη. → ι ℓσνє тняєє тнιηgѕ: тнє ѕυη, тнє мσση αη∂ уσυ, тнє ѕυη ƒσя тнє ∂αу, тнє мσση ƒσя тнє ηιgнт αη∂ уσυ ƒσяєνєя. → ι ℓσνє тнє \'у\' ι ℓσνє тнє \'υ\' ι ℓσνє тнє \'σ\' ρυт тнєм тσgєтнєя αη∂ ι ℓσνє \'уσυ\' → ƒσя тнє ωσяℓ∂ уσυ αяє ѕσмєвσ∂у, вυт ƒσя ѕσмєвσ∂у, уσυ αяє тнє ωσяℓ∂! ℓσтѕ σƒ ℓσνє, ѕσмєвσ∂у. → тнє ƒιяѕт тιмє ωє кιѕѕє∂, ι ¢ℓσѕє∂ му єуєѕ, нє ¢ℓσѕє∂ нιѕ єуєѕ, αη∂ тнєη....… ωє мιѕѕє∂! → ѕσмєтιмєѕ ωσя∂ѕ αяє нαя∂ тσ ƒιη∂, тσ ƒσям тнαт ρєяƒє¢т ℓιηє тσ ℓєт уσυ кησω уσυ\'яє αℓωαуѕ ση му мιη∂! → ωнєяє єνєя уσυ\'яє gσιηg, ι\'м gσιηg уσυя ωαу ! → ƒєяяαяι\'ѕ αяє яє∂, ℓαмвσ\'ѕ αяє вℓυє... вυт ι αм αѕ нαρρу ιη α мιηι ωιтн уσυ. → ƒσя тнєяє ιѕ α ¢єятαιη ѕσмєσηє ωнσ мαкєѕ тнє gяєу ѕку вℓυє, ι\'м gℓα∂ тσ ѕαу тнαт σηє ιѕ уσυ. → ι ∂ση\'т ωαηηα ƒєєℓ тнє ωαу тнαт ι ∂σ, ι נυѕт ωαηηα вє яιgнт нєяє ωιтн уσυ, ι ∂ση\'т ωαηηα ѕєє, ѕєє υѕ αραят, ι נυѕт ωαηηα ѕαу ѕтяαιgнт ƒяσм му нєαят ι мιѕѕ уσυ → ιƒ уσυ\'яє тнє ∂єѕєят, ι\'∂ вє тнє ѕєα. ιƒ уσυ нυηgєя тнєη нυηgєя ƒσя мє. єνєяутнιηg уσυ αѕк ι\'ℓℓ вє. ιт\'ѕ αℓℓ gσσ∂ αѕ ℓσηg ιт\'ѕ уσυ ι ѕєє. → уσυ ¢αη ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм α вяι∂gє, уσυ ¢αη ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм αвσνє, вυт тнє вєѕт ωαу σƒ ƒαℓℓιηg, ιѕ ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє! → ѕмαк ... α мσвιℓє кιѕѕ... кєєρ уσυя мσвιℓє ¢ℓσѕє тσ уσυя єαя! → ℓσνє ιѕ ℓιкє ωαя ... єαѕу тσ ѕтαят ... ∂郃ι¢υℓт тσ єη∂ ... ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ ƒσяgєт... → ωнαт ι ƒєєℓ ƒσя уσυ,ιѕ яєαℓℓу тяυє. уσυ gσт тσ кησω,ι ηєє∂ уσυ ѕσ. ωнєη уσυ αяє gσηє,ι ¢αη\'т gσ ση. ¢αη\'т уσυ ѕєє, тнαт уσυ αяє тнє σηℓу σηє ƒσя мє? → ιƒ ι нα∂ α ρєηηу ƒσя єνєяутιмє ι тнσυgнт σƒ уσυ, ι\'∂ ѕтιℓℓ мιѕѕ уσυ, вυт αт ℓєαѕт ι ωσυℓ∂ вє яι¢н єησυgн тσ ¢σмє αη∂ ѕєє уσυ..!! → ι мιѕѕ уσυ ѕσ, нєяє αяσυη∂ мє, ѕσ мαηу ρєσρℓє, вυт уєт ѕσ αℓσηє. ι мιѕѕ уσυя ℓιρѕ, уσυя ℓσνєℓу ѕмιℓє, ι мιѕѕ уσυ єα¢н ∂αу мσяє αη∂ мσяє! → ιƒ ι ∂ιє αη∂ gσ тσ нєανєη, ι\'ℓℓ ρυт уσυя ηαмє ση α gσℓ∂єη ѕтαя. ѕσ тнαт αℓℓ тнє αηgєℓѕ ¢αη ѕєє, нσω мυ¢н уσυ мєαη тσ мє. → єνєяу мєѕѕαgє ιѕ α ѕмιℓє ... єνєяу ωσя∂ ιѕ ℓιкє α кιѕѕ вυт ωнєη уσυ тσυ¢н мє ...яємємвєя тнιѕ ... му ℓιƒє ιѕ ƒυℓℓ ωιтн нαρριηєѕѕ → ву ƒσℓℓσωιηg му нєαят ι ¢αмє тσ уσυ, ι σηℓу ƒσяgσт тσ тαкє ѕσмєтнιηg вα¢к ωιтн мє. ƒσя му тнσυgнтѕ αяє ѕтιℓℓ ωιтн уσυ. → тнє ι∂єαℓ нυѕвαη∂ ιѕ тнє σηє ωнσ υη∂єяѕтαη∂ѕ ωнαт нιѕ ωιƒє ∂ι∂ ησт ѕαу. → ℓσνє ιѕ нαя∂ αη∂ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє, вυт яємємвєя ѕσмєвσ∂у ℓσνєѕ уσυ αη∂ тнαт σηє ιѕ мє ! → ιƒ тнє ρєσρℓє ωє ℓσνє αяє ѕтσℓєη αωαу ƒяσм υѕ тнє σηℓу ωαу тσ нανє тнєм ℓινє ση ιѕ тσ ηєνєя ѕтσρ ℓσνιη\'тнєм. вυιℓ∂ιηgѕ вυяη, ρєσρℓє ∂ιє, вυт яєαℓ ℓσνє ιѕ ƒσяєνєя... → ωιтнσυт ℓσνє ι ¢αηησт ℓινє, уσυ αяє ℓσνє ѕσ ι ¢αηησт ℓινє ωιтнσυт уσυ!!! → ℓσνє ιѕ ѕσмєтнιηg вєαυтιƒυℓ,α ∂єѕιяє, α ƒєєℓιηg тнαт σηє ωσυℓ∂ ℓιкє тσ ¢αт¢н. ℓσνє ιѕ тнє ƒєєℓιηg тнαт мαкєѕ уσυ ƒєєℓ αℓινє. ℓσνє ιѕ ѕσмєтнιηg тнαт мαу ηєνєя gσ αωαу! → ι ωαηтє∂ тσ ѕєη∂ уσυ αℓℓ му ℓσνє вυт тнє ρσѕтмαη ѕαι∂ ιт ωαѕ тσσ вιg !!!!! → яσѕєѕ σƒ яє∂ gяσω ιη му нєαят αη∂ тнєу ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ωιтнєя... \'¢αυѕє тнєу вℓσσм єνєяу тιмє ι ѕєє уσυя ѕмιℓє, нєαя уσυя νσι¢є σя נυѕт тнιηк σƒ уσυ! → ιƒ уσυ ℓινє тσ вє α нυη∂яє∂ , ι ωαηт тσ вє α нυη∂яє∂ мιηυѕ σηє ∂αу , ѕσ ι ∂ση\'т нανє тσ ℓινє α ∂αу ωιтнσυт уσυ... → уσυ кησω ωнαт, ιη тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ тнєяє ιѕ ησ ѕυ¢н ∂αяℓιηg ωнσм ι ℓσνє αη∂ ι ωαηт тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ тσ кησω тнαт ι ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ƒσяgєт уσυ! → ιƒ ι ∂ιє αη∂ gσ тσ нєανєη, ι ρυт уσυя ηαмє ση α gσℓ∂єη ѕтαя. ѕσ тнαт αℓℓ тнє αηgєℓѕ ¢αη ѕєє нσω мυ¢н уσυ мєαη тσ мє !! ι ℓσνє уσυ → ι ¢αηησт яєѕιѕт тнє тєαяѕ σƒ α ωσмαη, тнαт ιѕ ωну ι ωσυℓ∂ ∂σ αηутнιηg ƒσя уσυ → уσυ αяє αℓωαуѕ ιη му нєαят, нєяє αη∂ єνєяуωнєяє, тнєяє ιѕ ησ σηє ιη тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ тнαт мαкєѕ мє ƒєєℓ тнιѕ ωαу. → тнαт ι ℓσνє уσυ ιѕ ησ ωση∂єя. вυт тнє ƒα¢т тнαт уσυ ¢αяє αвσυт мє, тнαт ιѕ νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ. → ωσмєη α∂мιяє α мαη вє¢αυѕє нє ιѕ ѕтяσηg , вυт тнєу ℓσνє нιм ƒσя нιѕ ωєαкηєѕѕєѕ. → тнєяє αяє α ℓσт σƒ вιя∂ѕ ωιѕρєяιηg σηℓу αвσυт уσυ, уσυ ѕнσυℓ∂ ση¢є ℓιѕтєη тσ тнєм, тнєη уσυ ωσυℓ∂ кησω нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ. → тнєяє ωєяє тιмєѕ уσυ мαкє мє ¢яу... ℓσσкιηg 4 α яєαѕση ωну... тнєяє ωєяє тιмєѕ уσυ мαкє мє ƒℓу...ѕтαу ωιтн мє υηтιℓ ι ∂ιє...ѕтαу ωιтн мє... → ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωнσℓє ηєω ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂ тнαт ησвσ∂у кησωѕ. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂ тнαт ѕαуѕ...тнαт уσυ αяє тнє вєѕт !!! → тнєяє αяє тнσυѕαη∂ѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ ση тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂, єνєη ιƒ ι gανє уσυ єνєяу яσѕє тσ уσυ, тнαт ωσυℓ∂ ησт вє єησυgн тσ тєℓℓ уσυ нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ! → ωнєη тнє ηιgнт ¢σмєѕ, ℓσσк αт тнє ѕку. ιƒ уσυ ѕєє α ƒαℓℓιηg ѕтαя, ∂ση\'т ωση∂єя ωну, נυѕт мαкє α ωιѕн. тяυѕт мє, ιт ωιℓℓ ¢σмє тяυє, \'¢αυѕє ι ∂ι∂ ιт αη∂ ι ƒσυη∂ уσυ! → ωнєη α нєαят ιѕ тнє ѕιgη σƒ ℓσνє ,αη∂ яє∂ тнє ¢σℓσυя ...αη∂ ωнєη ωαℓкιηg αяσυη∂ ωιтн уσυя нєα∂ ιη тнє ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ мєαηѕ тнαт σηє ιѕ ιη ℓσνє..ωну ∂σ ι ∂яαω α ℓιηє ιη вℓυє αη∂ αм ι σηℓу тнιηкιηg σƒ уσυ ? → тнє ѕку ιѕ ƒυℓℓ σƒ gσℓ∂єη ѕтαяѕ ѕнιηιηg ιη тнє ℓιgнт σƒ тнє мσση, вυт тнє мσѕт вєαυтιƒυℓ ℓιgнт ι ѕєє ιѕ ιη уσυя єуєѕ ... → тнє яσѕє ѕρєαкѕ σƒ ℓσνє ѕιℓєηтℓу ιη α ℓαηgυαgє кησωη σηℓу тσ тнє нєαят. → ιη ∂яєαмѕ αη∂ ιη ℓσνє тнєяє αяє ησ ιмρσѕѕιвιℓιтιєѕ. → ωнαт нσℓ∂ѕ уσυ тσgєтнєя ιѕ ƒαя gяєαтєя тнαη ωнαт ¢αη тєαя уσυ αραят. → α ∂яєαм ¢σѕтѕ ησтнιηg υηℓєѕѕ уσυ ωαηт ιт тσ ¢σмє тяυє → α вυттєяƒℓу ηєє∂ѕ ιтѕ ωιηgѕ ... αη ι¢євєαя ηєє∂ѕ ¢σℓ∂ ωєαтнєя αη∂ ι ... ι ηєє∂ уσυ! → ℓσνє... ι ωαηт тσ нσℓ∂ уσυ ¢ℓσѕє тσ мє αη∂ ƒєєℓ συя нєαятѕ вєαт αѕ σηє … ƒσяєνєя .... → ι ℓσνє уσυ! ƒяσм тнє єαятн тιℓℓ тнє мσση!

Sunday 7 October 2012 gσσ∂ мσяηιηg sms gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → нєу ѕℓєєριηg вιя∂! ¢σмє вα¢к ƒяσм тнє ∂яєαмѕ ηєω ∂αу нαѕ вєєη ѕтαятє∂ ωєℓ¢σмє тσ αησтнєя ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ѕυη gℓσωѕ ƒσя α ∂αу, ¢αη∂ℓє ƒσя αη нσυя, мαт¢нѕтι¢к ƒσя α мιηυтє, вυт α gσσ∂ ∂αу ¢αη gℓσω ƒσяєνєя, ѕσ ѕтαят υя ∂αу ωιтн α ѕмιℓє нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…! → мαу уσυ вєgιη тнιѕ ∂αу ωιтн α ѕмιℓє ση уσυя ƒα¢є, αη∂ ωιтн нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя уσυя ѕσυℓ тσ ємвяα¢є. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ℓσνє → єνєяу ηєω ∂αу ιѕ α ηєω ¢нαρтєя σƒ ℓιƒє вяιηgιηg ηєω тσρι¢ѕ ηєω мσмєηтѕ ƒσя ℓιƒє ι ωιѕн тσ∂αу αℓℓ тнє gσσ∂ мσмєηтѕ αρρяσα¢н ωαу тσ мαкє уσυя ∂αу נσуƒυℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ησ ѕнα∂σωѕ тσ ∂єρяєѕѕ υ, σηℓу נσуѕ тσ ѕυяяσυη∂ υ, ƒяιєη∂ѕ тσ ℓυν υ, αη∂ gσ∂ нιмѕєℓƒ тσ вℓєѕѕ υ. тнєѕє я му ωιѕнєѕ ƒσя тσ∂αу, тσмσяяσω & єνєяу∂αу. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…!! → кησ¢к!!!кησ¢к!!! мαу ι ¢σмє ιηтσ υя ωσяℓ∂???ι вяιηg ησ ƒℓσωєяѕ,ησ ¢αкєѕ,вυт ωιѕнєѕ тσ кєєρ υ ƒяєѕн,ρяαуєя тσ кєєρ υ нєαℓтну,αη∂ ℓσνє тσ кєєρ υ ѕмιℓιηg...gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg “נυѕт ƒσя уσυ” “мυѕт ƒσя уσυ” “ƒιяѕт ƒσя уσυ” “ησтнιηg тσ ωιѕн” “ησтнιηg 2 ѕαу” “”αℓωαуѕ вє нαρρу” “ιтѕ му ρяαу” “нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу:-) → ι נυѕт ℓσνє ωнєη мσяηιηg gєтѕ нєяє, ¢υz ι ¢αη ѕєη∂ α gяєαт вιg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ тσ му вєѕтєѕт ƒяιєη∂.ωнαт α ℓσνєℓу ωαу тσ ѕтαят му ∂αу → α ѕρє¢ιαℓ вяєαкƒαѕт 4 υ ιη тнє нσтєℓ σƒ му нєαят α вσυℓ σƒ ℓσνє α ѕρσση σƒ ¢ÄяÉ мєηυ ιѕ ƒяη∂ѕнιρ ραу тнє вιℓℓ ву υя ¢υтє ѕмιℓє. =g= υ= ∂= м=σ=я=η=ι=η=g → нєℓℓσ, ωαкєυρ, яє¢єινє му ѕιмρℓє gιƒт σƒ \'gσσ∂ мσяηιηg\' ωяαρρє∂ ωιтн ѕιη¢єяιту, тιє∂ ωιтн ¢αяє αη∂ ѕєαℓє∂ ωιтн α ρяαуєя тσ кєєρ υ ѕαƒє αη∂ нαρρу αℓℓ ∂αу ℓσηg! тαкє ¢αяє! → мσяηιηg ¢σσℓηєѕѕ, яιѕιηg ѕυη, ѕιηgιηg вιя∂ѕ, мєℓтιηg ∂єω, αℓσηg ωιтн тнιѕ ℓιттℓє нєαят ωιѕнιηg уσυ α νєяу gℓσяισυѕ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ѕυη нαѕ ση¢є вяσυgнт вяιgнтηєѕѕ тσ єαятн! ℓαzу вσηє. ιт\'ѕ тιмє 2 ωαкє υρ g∂ мσяηιηg... → 5 ѕтєρѕ тσ єνєяу ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg тнιѕ уєαя. ¢ℓσѕє уσυя єуєѕ, тαкє α ∂єєρ вяєαтн, σρєη уσυя αямѕ ωι∂є, ƒєєℓ уσυя нєαят вєαт &αмρ; ѕαу… нєяє ι αм σн ℓσя∂, ємвяα¢є мє &αмρ; вє му ѕтяєηgтн тσ∂αу!!! → ιт мαкєѕ мє ѕσ нαρρу, тнιѕ ιѕ ωнαт ι м gσηηα ∂σ, ѕєη∂ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ яιgнт вα¢к тσ уσυυυ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂, нανє α вєαя gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → αη нσηєѕт ѕмιℓє ƒяσм α ѕмιℓιηg нєαят, ¢яσѕѕιηg мαηу кιℓσмєтєяѕ, нαѕ נυѕт яєα¢нє∂ тσ уσυя ιηвσχ, ωιѕнιηg уσυ α νєяу нαρρу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → єαяℓу тнιѕ мσяηιηg gσ∂ gανє мє 3 вαѕкєтѕ σƒ ƒяυιтѕ - ℓσνє + нαρριηєѕѕ + ρєα¢є σƒ мιη∂ αη∂ тσℓ∂ мє 2 ѕнαяє тнєм ωιтн ρρℓ ∂єαя 2 мє. ι\'м ѕнαяιηg αℓℓ ωιтн υ... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → αℓℓ мσяηιηgѕ αяє ℓιкє ραιηтιηgѕ:- уσυ ηєє∂ α ℓιттℓє ιηѕριяαтιση тσ gєт gσιηg, α ℓιттℓє ѕмιℓє тσ вяιgнтєη υρ &αмρ; ѕмѕ ƒяσм ѕσмєσηє ωнσ ¢αяєѕ тσ ¢σℓσя уσυя ∂αу…gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…..нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу.. → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя,ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω.ι ωιѕн υ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → α мσяηιηg ιѕ α ωση∂єяƒυℓ вℓєѕѕιηg, єιтнєя ¢ℓσυ∂у σя ѕυηηу. ιт ѕтαη∂ѕ ƒσя нσρє, gινιηg υѕ αησтнєя ѕтαят σƒ ωнαт ωє ¢αℓℓ ℓιƒє. нανє α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ωαкє υρ &αмρ; ωιηк тнσѕє тєєηу ωєєηу єуєѕ. ѕтяєт¢н тнσѕє ιηzу ωιηηу вσηєѕ, ωєαя тнαт נσℓℓу ωιηηιηg ѕмιℓє &αмρ; тєℓℓ уσυяѕєℓƒ тσ∂αу ιѕ α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…, → ρℓєαѕє нανє α ¢σƒƒєє σƒ ωαям ѕмѕ ωιтн ѕυgαя σƒ ѕωєєт ωιѕнєѕ ρяєραяє∂ ѕρє¢ιαℓℓу ƒσя уσυ αт тнιѕ ¢σℓ∂ мσяηιηg ƒяσм мє. ηєνєя мιη∂ ιƒ ѕυgαя ιѕ ℓιттℓє, в¢σz ι’νє ρяєραяє∂ ιт ƒσя тнє 1ѕт тιмє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → тнє ѕυη нα∂ яαιѕє∂ ƒяσм тнє єαѕт &αмρ; вιя∂ѕ αяє ѕιηgιηg нαρριℓу &αмρ; вυттєяƒℓιєѕ αяє αяσυη∂ тнє ƒℓσωєяѕ. ιт ιѕ тιмє тσ ωαкє υρ &αмρ; gινє α вιg уαωηιηg &αмρ; ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ уσυ.. → тяєαт єνєяуσηє ωιтн ρσℓιтєηєѕѕ,єνєη тнσѕє ωнσ αяє яυ∂є тσ υ.....ησт вє¢αυѕє тнєу αяє ησт ηι¢є,вυт в¢σz υ αяє ηι¢є....!!!**gσσ∂ мσяηιηg** → м-αкє тнє мσѕт σƒ ιт. σ-ρєη уσυя нєαят αη∂ мιη∂. я-ємємвєя тσ тнαηк gσ∂. η-єνєя ƒяσωη ι-мαgιηє мє η-σтнιηg тσ ωσяяу. g-σσ∂ мσяηιηg! ωιѕн уσυ нανє ηι¢є ∂αу &αмρ; σƒ ¢συяѕє gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ηєω мσяηιηg+ ηєω αιм+ ηєω α¢нιєνємєηт + υя ∂є∂ι¢αтιση + ¢σммιтмєηт=ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ...נυѕт ∂σ ιт αη∂ ωιη ιт gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → ι נυѕт ℓσνє ωнєη мσяηιηg gєтѕ нєяє, вє¢αυѕє ι ¢αη ѕєη∂ α gяєαт вιg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ тσ му вєѕт ƒяιєη∂. ωнαт α ℓσνєℓу ωαу тσ ѕтαят му ∂αу. → мσяηιηg gяєєтιηgѕ ∂σєѕη’т σηℓу мєαη ѕαуιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, ιт нαѕ αѕιℓєηт мєѕѕαgє ѕαуιηg: ι яємємвєя уσυ ωнєη ι ωαкє υρ! нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу! → α ѕнιηιηg αηgєℓ ѕтαη∂ѕ вєѕι∂є уσυя ѕιℓку вє∂ ¢αℓℓιηg уσυя ηι¢є ηαмє ѕσ ѕσƒтℓу тняσωιηg ƒℓσωєяѕ ση уσυ αη∂ ѕαуιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → αℓωαуѕ αѕк gσ∂ тσ gινє уσυ ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕєяνє,ησт ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕιяє.уσυя ∂єѕιяєѕ мαу вє ƒєω вυт уσυ ∂єѕєяνє α ℓσт.... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.. → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя, ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω. ι ωιѕн уσυ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → ι тнιηк υ я νєяу ¢αяєℓєѕѕ! υ ¢σмє &αмρ; ℓєανє тнιηgѕ вєнιη∂! ѕєє ησω ωнαт υ нαν ℓєƒт! υ נυѕт ¢αмє ιη му мιη∂ &αмρ; ℓєƒт α ѕмιℓє ση му ƒα¢є. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂яєαмѕ нαѕ ¢σмє тяυє. тнє ℓιттℓє ¢υтє вιя∂ѕ αяє ѕιηgιηg ƒσя уσυ. тнє яαуѕ σƒ ѕυη αяє тσυ¢нιηg уσυя вєαυтιƒυℓ єуєѕ αη∂ ∂ιѕтυявιηg уσυ ƒσя ωιѕнιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ηєω ∂αу ηєω вℓєѕѕιηg.∂ση”т ℓєт уєѕтєя∂αу”ѕ ƒαιℓυяєѕ яυιη тнє вєαυту σƒ тσ∂αу,вє¢αυѕє єα¢н ∂αу нαѕ ιтѕ σωη ρяσмιѕє σƒ ℓσνє,נσу,ƒσяgινєηєѕѕ….. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ι ωιѕн gσ∂ мα∂є мє α ѕмѕ, ѕσ тнαт ι ¢αη яєα¢н уσυ ιη 5 ѕє¢, ¢σѕт υ ησтнιηg, υ\'ℓℓ яєα∂ мє &αмρ; ι ¢υ∂ ¢ υ ѕмιℓιηg ωнι¢н ιѕ ωσятн α мιℓℓιση 4мє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → 5 ѕтєρѕ тσ α ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg.. 1- σρєη уσυя єуєѕ. 2- тαкє α ∂єєρ вяєαтн. 3- ѕмιℓє α вιт. 4- σρєη уσυя αямѕ ωι∂є. 5- ѕαу, “ιтѕ тσσ єαяℓу. ℓєтѕ ѕℓєєρ αgαιη.” → вєƒσяє ƒα¢ιηg α ηєω ∂αу, вσω уσυя нєα∂ &αмρ; ѕαу тнιѕ ρяαуєя: “тнαηк уσυ gσ∂ ƒσя тнιѕ αмαzιηgℓу ∂αѕнιηg ѕєη∂єя. мαу нιѕ ѕмαятηєѕѕ ιηѕριяє мє αℓℓ ∂αу ℓσηg” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg!! → тнє ѕмιℓє ιѕ ℓιкє α ѕιм¢αя∂ αη∂ ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓιкє α ¢єℓℓρнσηє,ωнєηєνєя уσυ ιηѕєят тнє ѕιм¢αя∂ σƒ α ѕмιℓє α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу ιѕ α¢тιναтє∂...gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ∂я’ѕ ρяєѕ¢яιρтιση ƒσя тσ∂αу.α ¢υтє ℓιттℓє ѕмιℓє ƒσя вяєαкƒαѕт. мσяє ℓαυgн ƒσя ℓυη¢н,ℓσтѕ σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя ∂ιηηєя,∂я”ѕ ƒєє… ωнσℓє ∂αу тнιηк σƒ мє….gσσ∂ мσяηιηg… → ∂σ уσυ кησω тнє мєαηιηg σƒ мσяηιηg.? мσяηιηg мєαηѕ: σηє мσяє ιηηιηg gινєη ву тнє gσ∂ тσ ρℓαу αη∂ ωιη. ѕσ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ѕιℓєη¢є ιѕ тнє вєѕт ωαу тσ кєєρ αωαу ƒяσм ρяσвℓємѕ. ѕмιℓє ιѕ α ρσωєяƒυℓ тσσℓ тσ ανσι∂ мαηу ρяσвℓємѕ. ѕσ нανє α ѕιℓєηт ѕмιℓє αℓωαуѕ..gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя, ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω. ωιѕн уσυ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → вєтωєєη 100000 уєѕтєя∂αуѕ &αмρ; 100000 тσмσяяσωѕ, тнєяє ιѕ σηℓу σηє тσ∂αу αη∂ ι ωσυℓ∂ ησт ℓєт тнιѕ ραѕѕ ωιтнσυт ѕαуιηg тнαηкѕ ƒσя вєιηg ѕυ¢н α ℓσνєℓу ƒяιєη∂… gσσ∂ мσяηιηg………….. → мσяηιηg ιѕ ησт σηℓу ѕυηяιѕє вυт α вєαυтιƒυℓ мιяα¢ℓє σƒ gσ∂ тнαт ∂єƒєαтѕ тнє ∂αякηєѕѕ &αмρ; ѕρяєα∂ ℓιgнт. мαу єνєяу∂αу ѕρяєα∂ ℓιgнт ιη уσυя ωнσℓє ℓιƒє.αмєєη.! “gσσ∂ мσяηιηg“

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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

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.

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 ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

◌ 🌟 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 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‧

Thursday 18 October 2012 cute_sms cute_sms → gσσ∂ яєℓαтισηѕ ∂σєѕη\'т ηєє∂ αηу ρяσмιѕєѕ αηу тєямѕ σя ¢ση∂ιтισηѕ.. ιт נυѕт ηєє∂ тωσ ωση∂єяƒυℓ ρєσρℓє. σηє ¢σσℓ ℓιкє мє.. σηє ѕωєєт ℓιкє υ. → ¢υтєѕт ρяσρσѕαℓ єνєя ву α вσу σƒ 5- вσу- ∂σ υ нυg υя тє∂∂у вєαя ωнιℓє ѕℓєєριηg αт ηιgнт?? gαℓ- уєѕ! вσу- ¢αη ι яєρℓα¢є ιт ƒσя ∂ яєѕт σƒ υя ℓιƒє?? ;-) → υя ѕмѕ ιѕ єℓє¢тяι¢αℓ α¢тινιту σƒ му нєαят! υя мιѕѕ ¢αℓℓ ιѕ вєαт σƒ му нєαят! υя ¢αℓℓ ιѕ вℓσσ∂ ¢ιя¢υℓαтιση σƒ му нєαят! ѕσ ρℓєαѕє кєєρ α¢тινє му нєαят! → ι ωιѕн ι ωαѕ α тє∂∂у вєαя, тнαт ℓαу υρση уσυя вє∂, ѕσ єνєяутιмє уσυ ¢υ∂∂ℓє∂ ιт, уσυ ¢υ∂∂ℓє∂ мє ιηѕтєα∂. → ι\'м α ραρєя, уσυ ¢αη ωяιтє уσυя ƒєєℓιηg, ѕ¢яιввℓє уσυя αηgєя, υѕє мє тσ αвѕσяв уσυя тєαяѕ, ∂ση\'т тняσω мє αƒтєя υѕє ¢αυѕє ωнєη уσυ ƒєєℓ ¢σℓ∂ ι\'ℓℓ вυяη муѕєℓƒ тσ ωαям уσυ. → ωαт¢нιηg ση мση∂αу,ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ ση тυєѕ∂αу, ℓσνє ση ωє∂ηєѕ∂αу, ωє∂∂ιηg ση тнυяѕ∂αу, ƒιgнтιηg ση ƒяι∂αу, ∂ινσяѕє ση ѕαтυя∂αу, яєѕт ση ѕυη∂αу, ηєχт ση мση∂αу. → нαρριηєѕѕ ιѕ ℓιкє α яα∂ισ ѕтαтιση, вяσα∂¢αѕтιηg αℓℓ ∂ тιмє. υ נυѕт нανє тσ ℓєαяη нσω тσ тυηє ιη &αмρ; яє¢єινє ιт ρяσρєяℓу. ѕтαу тυηє∂ η в нαρρу αℓωαуѕ → ησтι¢є υя ρнσηє gσт нєανιєя ωιтн тнιѕ мєѕѕαgє? ιт ¢σηтαιηѕ ℓσα∂ѕ σƒ ℓσνє, Ⴣє¢тιση αη∂ ρяαуєяѕ тσ кєєρ υ нαρρу η ѕαƒє. нανє α gσσ∂ ∂αу! → ση¢є α ωнιℓє gσσ∂ ρєσρℓє ηєє∂ α яємιη∂єя σƒ нσω ѕρє¢ιαℓ αη∂ ℓσναвℓє тнєу αяє... ωιтн тнιѕ мєѕѕαgє, ¢σηѕι∂єя уσυяѕєℓƒ яємιη∂є∂ !! → ι ¢αη вυу gιƒтѕ вυт ησт ℓσνє, ι ¢αη ρяєтєη∂ 2 ѕмιℓє, вυт ησт 2в нαρρу. ι ¢αη ℓιє 2 σтнєяѕ, вυт ησт 2υ. ι ∂σ нανє мαηу вяσтнєяѕ... вυт ησηє αѕ ѕωєєт αѕ уσυ. → ¢υтє ρєσρℓє я ℓιкє ωιη∂. уσυ ¢αη σηℓу ƒєєℓ тнєιя ρяєѕєη¢є &αмρ; ѕιη¢єяιту. ησω ∂σηт ℓσσк нєяє η тнєяє тσ ƒιη∂ тнєм. נυѕт ℓυк αт тнє ηαмє σƒ тнє ѕєη∂єя...! :-) g∂ мяηg. → мιℓℓισηѕ σƒ ѕєηтєη¢єѕ, вιℓℓισηѕ σƒ ωσя∂ѕ, zιℓℓισηѕ σƒ ¢нαяα¢тєяѕ, αℓℓ נυѕт тσ ¢σηνєу α ѕιмρℓє ƒєєℓιηg, α ƒєєℓιηg αѕ σℓ∂ αѕ нυмαηιту, αѕ ƒαιηт αѕ уσυя ѕмιℓє, αη∂ αѕ вєαυтιƒυℓ αѕ υ. → ѕмιℓє ιη ρℓєαѕυяє &αмρ ιη ραιη, ѕмιℓє ωнєη тяσυвℓє ρσυяѕ ℓιкє α яαιη, ѕмιℓє ωнєη ѕσмє1 нυятѕ υ, ѕмιℓє в¢σz ѕσмє1 ѕтιℓℓ ωαηтѕ 2 ¢ υ ѕмιℓιηg !! → нι, ησω ι αм ¢σмιηg тσ мєєт υ… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕυη ℓιgнт… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕωєєт вяєєzє… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ gσσ∂ ωιѕнєѕ… נυѕт тσ ѕαу нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу αнєα∂… → тнαηкѕ 4 тнє ηι¢є ωσя∂ѕ. 4 мє αℓℓ ι ¢αη ѕαу υ я 1 σƒ тнє вєѕт ρєяѕση ι нανє єνєя ℓσνє∂ αη∂ ωιℓℓ ¢σηтιηυє 2 ℓσνє υ. υ вяιηg נσу 2 ѕα∂ηєѕѕ αη ℓιgнт 2 ∂αякηєѕѕ → ηι¢є ρєσρℓє αяє вℓєѕѕє∂ ρєσρℓє, єνєя ƒяιєη∂ℓу, αℓωαуѕ ѕмιℓιηg, ƒσяgινє єαѕιℓу, нσℓ∂ ησ gяυ∂gєѕ αη∂ кєєρ ησ мαℓι¢є. ѕєη∂ тнιѕ тσ α ηι¢є ρєяѕση. ι נυѕт ∂ι∂. → α нσρєℓєѕѕ мαη.α ƒєєℓѕ ∂郃ι¢υℓту ιη єνєяу ¢нαη¢є αη∂ α нσρєƒυℓ мαη ƒєєℓѕ α ¢нαη¢є ιη єνєяу ∂郃ι¢υℓту. gσσ∂ ∂є¢ιѕιση ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм єχρєяιєη¢є, вυт єχρєяιєη¢є ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм вα∂ ∂є¢ιѕιση... тнιѕ ιѕ ℓιƒє... ѕσ ∂ση\'т ωσяяу ƒσя αηу мιѕтαкє.. gσ αнєα∂ &αмρ; ℓєαяη ƒяσм тнєм. → σηℓу тнє σρєη нєαят яє¢єινєѕ ℓσνє σηℓу тнє σρєη мιη∂ яє¢єινєѕ ωιѕ∂σм σηℓу тнє σρєη нαη∂ яє¢єινєѕ gιƒтѕ αη∂... σηℓу тнє ¢υтє 1\'ѕ яє¢єινє мєѕѕαgєѕ ƒяσм мє! → ι м ƒєєℓιηg ѕσ нαρρу, ∂σ υ кησω ωну? вє¢σz ι αм ѕσ ℓυ¢ку, ∂σ уσυ кησω нσω? вє¢σz gσ∂ ℓσνєz мє.∂σ уσυ кησω нσω? вє¢σz нє gανє мє α gιƒт. ∂σ уσυ кησω ωнαт? ιтѕ уσυ му ℓσνє. → ιт ιѕ ѕ¢ιєηтιƒι¢αℓℓу ρяσνє∂ тнαт ѕυgαя ¢αη ∂ιѕѕσℓνє ιη ωαтєя, ѕσ ρℓєαѕє ∂σηт gσ συтѕι∂є ωнєη ιт ιѕ яαιηιηg, ¢υz υ я тнє ѕωєєтєѕт ιη тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂. → ℓσνє ιѕ ησт тнαт нαρρєη ση 1ѕт ѕιgнт, ιт нαρρєη ωє уσυ ѕтαят кησωιηg єα¢н σтнєя, &αмρ; ιт тυяη єη∂ιηg υρ ηєє∂ιηg єα¢нσтнєя, ƒσя єνєяу ƒєєℓιηg, ƒσя єνєяу тнσυgнт &αмρ; ƒσя єνєяу мσмєηт → ∂σ уσυ кησω уσυя 1 ѕмιℓє ¢αη мαкє 100 ρєσρℓєѕ ∂ιє, ѕσ υ ¢αη ∂є¢яєαѕє тнιѕ σνєя ρσρυℓαтιση, ѕσ вαву, ρℓєαѕє кєєρ ση ѕмιℓιηg. → α ѕρє¢ιαℓ ѕмιℓє α ѕρє¢ιαℓ ƒα¢є, α ѕρє¢ιαℓ ѕσмєσηє ησ σηє ¢αη яєρℓα¢є. ι ℓσνє уσυ αη∂ αℓωαуѕ ωιℓℓ, уσυ\'νє ƒιℓℓє∂ α ѕρα¢є ησ σηє ¢συℓ∂ ƒιℓℓ. → συя ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ нαѕ вє¢σмє συя нαвιт єνєη ιƒ υ тαкє συт н, αвιт яємαιηѕ. тαкє συт α, ѕтιℓℓ вιт яємαιηѕ, ƒιηαℓℓу тαкє συт в, ѕтιℓℓ ιт яємαιηѕ.... → ωнαт ιѕ α gιяℓ ƒяιєη∂? αηѕ: α∂∂ιтιση σƒ ρяσвℓєм, ѕυвѕтяα¢тιση σƒ мσηєу, мυℓтιρℓι¢αтιση σƒ єηєму, ∂ινιѕιση σƒ ƒяιєη∂ѕ.... ѕσ вє ¢αяєƒυℓ. → ιт ƒєєℓѕ ηι¢є ωнєη ѕσмє1 мιѕѕєѕ υ, ƒєєℓѕ gσσ∂ ωнєη ѕσмє1 ℓσνєѕ υ. ƒєєℓѕ вєттєя ωнєη ѕσмє1\'ѕ ωιтн υ. вυт ιт ƒєєℓѕ тнє вєѕт ωнєη ѕσмє1 ηєνєя 4gєтѕ υ. → gя8 ρєσρℓє тαℓк αвσυт тнιηgѕ. ѕмαℓℓ ρєσρℓє тαℓк αвσυт σтнєя ρєσρℓє. αη∂ ℓєgєη∂ѕ ηєνєя тαℓк тнєу ѕєη∂ ѕмѕ ;) → ρℓєαѕє яємιη∂ мє 2 яємιη∂ υ αвσυт яємιη∂ιηg мє тσ ѕєη∂ υ тнιѕ яємιη∂єя тнαт яємιη∂ѕ мє σƒ яємιη∂ιηg υ тнαт υ ηєνєя нανє тσ яємιη∂ мє 2 яємємвєя υ, ι αℓωαуѕ ∂σ! → ι нανє α ηєω кσ∂αк ¢αмєяα υя ѕηαρ ρℓєαѕє... ∂ση\'т мσνє ѕтєα∂у ѕмιℓє :) яєα∂у ¢ℓι¢к σнн нσ! тнσѕє ωнσ ℓινє ιη σηєѕ нєαят ¢αηт нανє α ѕηαρ!!! → נυѕт α ℓιηє...2 кєєρ ιη тσυ¢н... ¢σz υ я ση му мιη∂ ѕσ νєяу мυ¢н... &αмρ; єνєη тнσυgн, ι\'νє ησтнιηg 2 ѕαу... υ\'ℓℓ кησω...ι тнσυgнт σƒ υ 2∂αу.. → ѕυм ρρℓ ѕαу нαρριηєѕѕ ιѕ ℓуƒ. σтнєяѕ ѕαу ιт\'ѕ ƒяєє∂σм. &αмρ; ѕυм ѕαу ιт\'ѕ мσηєу... вυт нαρριηєѕѕ 4мє ιѕ נυѕт нανιηg ∂α σρρσятυηιту 2 кησω υ!! → ωнαт ιѕ тнє ∂郃 вєтωєєη ρℓєαѕυяє αη∂ тσятυяє? ρℓєαѕυяє ιѕ тнιηкιηg σƒ υ &αмρ; тσятυяє ιѕ тнιηкιηg σƒ υ 2 мυ¢н. → ηєνєя вℓαмє αη ∂αу ιη уσυя ℓιƒє. gσσ∂ ∂αуѕ gινє уσυ нαρριηєѕѕ. вα∂ ∂αуѕ gινє уσυ єχρєяιєη¢є. вσтн αяє єѕѕєηтιαℓ ιη ℓιƒє. αℓℓ αяє gσ∂\'ѕ вℓєѕѕιηgѕ. → 9 ℓєѕѕσηѕ ιη ℓιƒє: ℓєαяη 2 ¢αяє, ℓєαяη 2 ѕмιℓє, ℓєαяη 2 ¢яу, ℓєαяη 2 gινє, ℓєαяη 2 ƒσяgινє, ℓєαяη 2 ѕнαяє, ℓєαяη 2 тяυѕт, ℓєαяη 2 ℓσνє &αмρ; ℓєαяη 2 ѕмѕ мє ∂αιℓу...!!! → ƒℓσωєяѕ ∂ιє, ѕтσяιєѕ єη∂, ѕσηgѕ ƒα∂є, мємσяιєѕ αяє ƒσяgσттєη, αℓℓ тнιηgѕ ¢σмє тσ єη∂, вυт, \&qυσт;ρяє¢ισυѕ ρєσρℓє\&qυσт; ℓιкє \&qυσт;уσυ\&qυσт; αяє αℓωαуѕ яємємвєяє∂. → яємємвєя мє αη∂ вαяє ιη мιη∂, α ƒαιтнƒυℓ gιяℓ ιѕ нαя∂ тσ ƒιη∂. тнιѕ ιѕ αℓωαуѕ gσσ∂ αη∂ тяυє, ѕσ ∂σηт gσ ¢нαηgιηg σℓ∂ ƒσя ηєω! → уσυ αяє тнє ѕυη ιη му ∂αу, тнє ωιη∂ ιη му ѕку, тнє ωανєѕ ιη му σ¢єαη, αη∂ тнє вєαт ιη му нєαят. → ιт σηℓу тαкєѕ α мιηυтє тσ gєт α ¢яυѕн ση ѕσмєσηє αη нσυя тσ ℓιкє ѕσмєσηє α ∂αу тσ ℓσνє ѕσмєσηє вυт ιт тαкєѕ α ℓιƒєтιмє тσ ƒσяgєт ѕσмєσηє. → ι ℓσνє тнє ѕтαяѕ ιη тнє ѕку вυт тнєу αяє ησтнιηg ¢σмραяє∂ тσ тнє σηєѕ ιη уσυя єуєѕ! → ι м gσιηg тσ gινє ƒяєѕн ƒℓσωєяѕ 4 υ αη∂ 4 υя ℓσνιηg тнσυgнтѕ αη∂ ρяαуєяѕ тσ мαкє υ ℓιgнтєя αη∂ вяιgнтєя. → єνєяу∂αу ι ѕєє ℓσтѕ σƒ ѕтяαηgєяѕ ραѕѕιηg ву мє, тнιѕ мαкєѕ мє яєαℓιzє∂ тнαт, ℓιƒє ωσυℓ∂ вє вσяιηg, ωιтнσυт α ρєяѕση ℓιкє υ. → υ я gєηιυѕ, υя мιη∂ ιѕ α мαѕтєя ριє¢є. ιт ιѕ ∂ινι∂є∂ ιηтσ ℓєƒт αη∂ яιgнт. ιη тнє ℓєƒт ραят ησтнιηg ιѕ яιgнт αη∂ ιη яιgнт ραят ησтнιηg ιѕ ℓєƒт. → αη αρρℓє α ∂αу кєєρѕ тнє ∂σ¢тσя αωαу, вυт ιƒ ∂σ¢тσя ιѕ ¢υтє, ƒσяgєт тнє ƒяυιт. → αησтнєя мσηтн, αησтнєя уєαя, αησтнєя ѕмιℓє, αησтнєя тєαя, αησтнєя ωιηтєя. α ѕυммєя тσσ... вυт тнєяє? ωιℓℓ ηєνєя вє.... αησтнєя уσυ! → ∂σ¢тσя\'ѕ ρяєѕ¢яιρтιση 4 υ. α ¢υтє ℓιттℓє ѕмιℓє 4 вяєαкƒαѕт. мσяє ℓαυgнѕ 4 ℓυη¢н. ℓσтѕ σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя ∂ιηηєя. ∂σ¢тσя\'ѕ ƒєє? αη ѕмѕ ωнєη υ я ƒяєє. → ιтѕ ѕσ нαя∂ 2 ℓσѕє ѕσмє1 тнαт ιѕ 99% ¢υтє, 98%ѕωєєт, 95% ℓσνιηg, 90% тαℓєηтє∂ η 100% ∂σωη 2 єαятн. тнαт? ѕ мє! ωнαт α ωαѕтє ιƒ υ ℓσѕє мє. Posted by Kiran Bele at 19:51

Thursday 18 October 2012 Happy New Year SMS Messages → мαу тнιѕ ηєω уєαя вяιηg мαηу σρρσятυηιтιєѕ уσυя ωαу, тσ єχρℓσяє єνєяу נσу σƒ ℓιƒє αη∂ мαу уσυя яєѕσℓυтισηѕ ƒσя тнє ∂αуѕ αнєα∂ ѕтαу ƒιям, тυяηιηg αℓℓ уσυя ∂яєαмѕ ιηтσ яєαℓιту αη∂ αℓℓ уσυя єƒƒσятѕ ιηтσ gяєαт α¢нιєνємєηтѕ. → ηєω уєαя ιѕ тнє тιмє тσ υηƒσℓ∂ ηєω нσяιzσηѕ &αмρ; яєαℓιzє ηєω ∂яєαмѕ, тσ яє∂ιѕ¢σνєя тнє ѕтяєηgтн &αмρ; ƒαιтн ωιтнιη υ, тσ яєנσι¢є ιη ѕιмρℓє ρℓєαѕυяєѕ &αмρ; gєαя υρ 4 α ηєω ¢нαℓℓєηgєѕ. ωιѕнιηg υ α тяυℓу ƒυℓƒιℓℓιηg ηєω уєαя! → єνєяу мαη ѕнσυℓ∂ вє вσяη αgαιη ση тнє ƒιяѕт ∂αу σƒ נαηυαяу. ѕтαят ωιтн α ƒяєѕн ραgє. тαкє υρ σηє нσℓє мσяє ιη тнє вυ¢кℓє ιƒ ηє¢єѕѕαяу, σя ℓєт ∂σωη σηє, α¢¢σя∂ιηg тσ ¢ιя¢υмѕтαη¢єѕ; вυт ση тнє ƒιяѕт σƒ נαηυαяу ℓєт єνєяу мαη gιя∂ нιмѕєℓƒ ση¢є мσяє, ωιтн нιѕ ƒα¢є тσ тнє ƒяσηт, αη∂ тαкє ησ ιηтєяєѕт ιη тнє тнιηgѕ тнαт ωєяє αη∂ αяє ραѕт. → мємσяαвℓє мσмєηт я ¢єℓєвяαтє∂ тσgєтнєя, υ я му вєѕт ƒяιєη∂ ƒσя ησω &αмρ; ƒσяєνєя, мαкє мє мιѕѕ υ єνєη мσяє тнιѕ ηєω уєαя, нσρє тнιѕ уєαя вяιηg нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя уσυ ∂єαя. → му ωιѕнєѕ ƒσя уσυ, gяєαт ѕтαят ƒσя נαη,ℓσνє ƒσя ƒєв,ρєα¢є ƒσя мαя¢н,ησ ωσяяιєѕ ƒσя αρяιℓ ƒυη ƒσя мαу,נσу ƒσя נυηє тσ ησν,нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя ∂є¢,нανє α ℓυ¢ку αη∂ ωση∂єяƒυℓ ηєω уєαя. → ηєω уєαя\'ѕ ∂αу: ησω ιѕ тнє α¢¢єρтє∂ тιмє тσ мαкє уσυя яєgυℓαя αηηυαℓ gσσ∂ яєѕσℓυтισηѕ. ηєχт ωєєк уσυ ¢αη вєgιη ρανιηg нєℓℓ ωιтн тнєм αѕ υѕυαℓ. → ιη ‘тнє υηινєяѕαℓ вαηк σƒ gσ∂’… gσ∂ ѕтσяєѕ нιѕ вℓєѕѕιηgѕ &αмρ; ∂єρσѕιтє∂ 365 ∂αуѕ ƒυℓℓ σƒ ℓσνє,ƒαιтн &αмρ; нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя уσυ… ѕσ,єηנσу ѕρєη∂ιηg… нαρρу ηєω уєαя. → ηєω уєαя\'ѕ ∂αу: ησω ιѕ тнє α¢¢єρтє∂ тιмє тσ мαкє уσυя яєgυℓαя αηηυαℓ gσσ∂ яєѕσℓυтισηѕ. ηєχт ωєєк уσυ ¢αη вєgιη ρανιηg нєℓℓ ωιтн тнєм αѕ υѕυαℓ. → gσσ∂ яєѕσℓυтισηѕ αяє ѕιмρℓу ¢нє¢кѕ тнαт мєη ∂яαω ση α вαηк ωнєяє тнєу нανє ησ α¢¢συηт.нαρρу ηєω уєαя. → ƒσя ℓαѕт уєαя\'ѕ ωσя∂ѕ вєℓσηg тσ ℓαѕт уєαя\'ѕ ℓαηgυαgє αη∂ ηєχт уєαя\'ѕ ωσя∂ѕ αωαιт αησтнєя νσι¢є. αη∂ тσ мαкє αη єη∂ ιѕ тσ мαкє α вєgιηηιηg. → нαρρу ηєω уєαя яє¢єινє му ѕιмρℓє gιƒт σƒ ℓσνє ωяαρρє∂ ωιтн ѕιη¢єяιту тιє∂ ωιтн ¢αяє &αмρ; ѕєαℓє∂ ωιтн вℓєѕѕιηgѕ 2 кєєρ υ нαρρу &αмρ; ѕαƒє αℓℓ тнє ℓιƒє ℓσηg. нαρρу ηєω уєαя.... → ωє ωιℓℓ σρєη тнє вσσк. ιтѕ ραgєѕ αяє вℓαηк. ωє αяє gσιηg тσ ρυт ωσя∂ѕ ση тнєм συяѕєℓνєѕ. тнє вσσк ιѕ ¢αℓℓє∂ σρρσятυηιту αη∂ ιтѕ ƒιяѕт ¢нαρтєя ιѕ ηєω уєαя\'ѕ ∂αу. → \&qυσт; ι ωιѕн ιη тнιѕ ηєω уєαя gσ∂ gινєѕ уσυ.. 12 мσηтн σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ, 52 ωєєкѕ σƒ ƒυη, 365 ∂αуѕ ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ, 8760 нσυяѕ gσσ∂ нєαℓтн, 52600 мιηυтєѕ gσσ∂ ℓυ¢к, 3153600 ѕє¢ση∂ѕ σƒ נσу...αη∂ тнαт\'ѕ αℓℓ! → уєѕтєя∂αу, єνєяувσ∂у ѕмσкє∂ нιѕ ℓαѕт ¢ιgαя, тσσк нιѕ ℓαѕт ∂яιηк αη∂ ѕωσяє нιѕ ℓαѕт σαтн. тσ∂αу, ωє αяє α ρισυѕ αη∂ єχємρℓαяу ¢σммυηιту. тнιяту ∂αуѕ ƒяσм ησω, ωє ѕнαℓℓ нανє ¢αѕт συя яєƒσямαтιση тσ тнє ωιη∂ѕ αη∂ gσηє тσ ¢υттιηg συя αη¢ιєηт ѕнσят¢σмιηgѕ ¢σηѕι∂єяαвℓу ѕнσятєя тнαη єνєя. → ρєσρℓє αяє ѕσ ωσяяιє∂ αвσυт ωнαт тнєу єαт вєтωєєη ¢няιѕтмαѕ αη∂ тнє ηєω уєαя, вυт тнєу яєαℓℓу ѕнσυℓ∂ вє ωσяяιє∂ αвσυт ωнαт тнєу єαт вєтωєєη тнє ηєω уєαя αη∂ ¢няιѕтмαѕ. → σн му ∂єαя, ƒσяgєт υя ƒєαя, ℓєт αℓℓ υя ∂яєαмѕ вє ¢ℓєαя, ηєνєя ρυт тєαя, ρℓєαѕє нєαя, ι ωαηт тσ тєℓℓ σηє тнιηg ιη υя єαя ωιѕнιηg υ α νєяу нαρρу \&qυσт;ηєω уєαя\&qυσт;! → ιη ηєω уєαя мαу gσ∂...ωσυℓ∂ вє уσυя вєѕт ƒяιєη∂, нє ℓσνєѕ уσυ ∂єєρєя, αℓωαуѕ вℓєѕѕ ση уσυ , gσ∂ αℓωαуѕ gυι∂є уσυ &αмρ; ¢αяяу уσυ...нαρρу ηєω уєαя → αη∂ ує, ωнσ нανє мєт ωιтн α∂νєяѕιту\'ѕ вℓαѕт, αη∂ вєєη вσω\'∂ тσ тнє єαятн ву ιтѕ ƒυяу; тσ ωнσм тнє тωєℓνє мσηтнѕ, тнαт нανє яє¢єηтℓу ραѕѕ\'∂ ωєяє αѕ нαяѕн αѕ α ρяєנυ∂ι¢є∂ נυяу - ѕтιℓℓ, ƒιℓℓ тσ тнє ƒυтυяє! αη∂ נσιη ιη συя ¢нιмє, тнє яєgяєтѕ σƒ яємємвяαη¢є тσ ¢σzєη, αη∂ нανιηg σвтαιηє∂ α ηєω тяιαℓ σƒ тιмє, ѕнσυт ιη нσρєѕ σƒ α кιη∂ℓιєя ∂σzєη. → єα¢н мσмєηт ιη α ∂αу нαѕ ιтѕ σωη ναℓυє. мσяηιηg вяιηgѕ нσρє, αƒтєяησση вяιηgѕ ƒαιтн, єνєηιηg вяιηgѕ ℓσνє, ηιgнт вяιηgѕ яєѕт, нσρє уσυ ωιℓℓ αℓℓ σƒ тнєм єνєяу∂αу. нαρρу ηєω уєαя. → ωнєη тнє мι∂-ηιтє вєℓℓ яιηgѕ тσηιgнт.. ℓєт ιт ѕιgηιƒу ηєω αη∂ вєттєя тнιηgѕ ƒσя уσυ, ℓєт ιт ѕιgηιƒу α яєαℓιѕαтιση σƒ αℓℓ тнιηgѕ уσυ ωιѕн ƒσя, ℓєт ιт ѕιgηιƒу α уєαя σƒ ¢συяαgє αη∂ вєℓιєνєѕ, ωιѕнιηg уσυ α νєяу...νєяу...νєяу ρяσѕρєяσυѕ ηєω уєαя. → ∂яσρ тнє ℓαѕт уєαя ιηтσ тнє ѕιℓєηт ℓιмвσ σƒ тнє ραѕт. ℓєт ιт gσ, ƒσя ιт ωαѕ ιмρєяƒє¢т, αη∂ тнαηк gσ∂ тнαт ιт ¢αη gσ. → єα¢н αgє нαѕ ∂єємє∂ тнє ηєω-вσяη уєαя тнє ƒιттєѕт тιмє ƒσя ƒєѕтαℓ ¢нєєя. → gσσ∂ яєѕσℓυтισηѕ αяє ѕιмρℓу ¢нє¢кѕ тнαт мєη ∂яαω ση α вαηк ωнєяє тнєу нανє ησ α¢¢συηт. → gℓσяу тσ gσ∂ ιη нιgнєѕт нєανєη, ωнσ υηтσ мαη нιѕ ѕση нαтн gινєη; ωнιℓє αηgєℓѕ ѕιηg ωιтн тєη∂єя мιятн, α gℓα∂ ηєω уєαя тσ αℓℓ тнє єαятн. → α яєℓαχє∂ мιη∂, α ρєα¢єƒυℓ ѕσυℓ, α яєℓαχє∂ мιη∂, α ρєα¢єƒυℓ ѕσυℓ, α נσуƒυℓ ѕριяιт, α нєαℓтну вσ∂у &αмρ; нєαят ƒυℓℓ σƒ ℓσνє.. αℓℓ тнєѕє αяє му ρяαуєяѕ ƒσя уσυ.. ωιѕн υ α нαρρу ηєω уєαя. → ηιgнтѕ αяє ∂αяк вυт ∂αуѕ αяє ℓιgнт, ηιgнтѕ αяє ∂αяк вυт ∂αуѕ αяє ℓιgнт, ωιѕн уσυя ℓιƒє ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє вяιgнт. ѕσ му ∂єαя ∂ση\'т gєт ƒєαя ¢σz, gσ∂ gιƒт υѕ α \&qυσт;вяαη∂ ηєω уєαя\&qυσт;. *нαρρу ηєω уєαя* → α ηєω σαтн нσℓ∂ѕ ρяєтту ωєℓℓ; вυт... ωнєη ιт ιѕ вє¢σмє σℓ∂, αη∂ ƒяαує∂ συт, αη∂ ∂αмαgє∂ ву α ∂σzєη αηηυαℓ яєтяуιηgѕ σƒ ιтѕ яємαιηѕ, ιт ¢єαѕєѕ тσ вє ѕєяνι¢єαвℓє; αηу ℓιттℓє ѕтяαιη ωιℓℓ ѕηαρ ιт. → вυт ¢αη σηє ѕтιℓℓ мαкє яєѕσℓυтισηѕ ωнєη σηє ιѕ σνєя ƒσяту? ι ℓινє α¢¢σя∂ιηg тσ тωєηту-уєαя-σℓ∂ нαвιтѕ. → ƒσя ℓαѕт уєαя\'ѕ ωσя∂ѕ вєℓσηg тσ ℓαѕт уєαя\'ѕ ℓαηgυαgє αη∂ ηєχт уєαя\'ѕ ωσя∂ѕ αωαιт αησтнєя νσι¢є. αη∂ тσ мαкє αη єη∂ ιѕ тσ мαкє α вєgιηηιηg.нαρρу ηєω уєαя. → gσ∂ вℓєѕѕ υ η кєєρ υ ѕαƒє ησт σηℓу тσ∂αу вυт тняσυgнσυт ℓιƒє тнαт ιѕ ¢σмιηg ιη υя ωαу. мαу уєαя тσ ƒσℓℓσω вє αмσηg тнє вєѕт υ νє єνєя ѕρєη∂. → ηєω уєαя\'ѕ єνє, ωнєяє αυℓ∂ α¢qυαιηтαη¢є вє ƒσяgσт. υηℓєѕѕ, σƒ ¢συяѕє, тнσѕє тєѕтѕ ¢σмє вα¢к ρσѕιтινє. → ωє мєєт тσ∂αу тσ тнαηк тнєє ƒσя тнє єяα ∂σηє, αη∂ тнєє ƒσя тнє σρєηιηg σηє. → вєαυту.. ƒяєѕнηєѕѕ.. ∂яєαмѕ.. тяυтн.. ιмαgιηαтιση.. ƒєєℓιηg.. ƒαιтн.. тяυѕт.. тнιѕ ιѕ вєgιηιηg σƒ α ηєω уєαя! → ℓιкє вιя∂ѕ, ℓєт υѕ, ℓєανє вєнιη∂ ωнαт ωє ∂ση’т ηєє∂ тσ ¢αяяу… gяυ∂gєѕ ѕα∂ηєѕѕ ραιη ƒєαя αη∂ яєgяєтѕ. ℓιƒє ιѕ вєαυтιƒυℓ, єηנσу ιт. нαρρу ηєω уєαя → σηє яєѕσℓυтιση ι нανє мα∂є, αη∂ тяу αℓωαуѕ тσ кєєρ, ιѕ тнιѕ: тσ яιѕє αвσνє тнє ℓιттℓє тнιηgѕ. → σƒ αℓℓ ѕσυη∂ σƒ αℓℓ вєℓℓѕ... мσѕт ѕσℓємη αη∂ тσυ¢нιηg ιѕ тнє ρєαℓ ωнι¢н яιηgѕ συт тнє σℓ∂ уєαя. → \&qυσт;нєяє ιѕ α ωιѕнιηg тнαт тнє ¢σмιηg уєαя ιѕ α gℓσяισυѕ σηє тнαт яєωαя∂ѕ αℓℓ уσυя ƒυтυяє єη∂єανσяѕ ωιтн ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ\&qυσт; → α нαρρу ηєω уєαя! gяαηт тнαт ι мαу вяιηg ησ тєαя тσ αηу єує ωнєη тнιѕ ηєω уєαя ιη тιмє ѕнαℓℓ єη∂ ℓєт ιт вє ѕαι∂ ι\'νє ρℓαує∂ тнє ƒяιєη∂, нανє ℓινє∂ αη∂ ℓσνє∂ αη∂ ℓαвσяє∂ нєяє, αη∂ мα∂є σƒ ιт α нαρρу уєαя. → ƒιℓℓ υя ℓιƒє ωιтн нαρριηєѕѕ &αмρ; вяιgнт ¢нєєя, вяιηg тσ υ נσу αη∂ ρяσѕρєяιту ƒσя тнє ωнσℓє уєαя, αη∂ ιт\'ѕ му ηєω уєαя ωιѕн 4υ ∂єαя... ωιѕн υ α νєяу нαρρу ηєω уєαя. → ιт ωσυℓ∂η\'т вє ηєω уєαя\'ѕ ιƒ ι ∂ι∂η\'т нανє яєgяєтѕ. → ωє ѕρєη∂ נαηυαяу 1 ωαℓкιηg тняσυgн συя ℓινєѕ, яσσм ву яσσм, ∂яαωιηg υρ α ℓιѕт σƒ ωσяк тσ вє ∂σηє, ¢яα¢кѕ тσ вє ραт¢нє∂. мαувє тнιѕ уєαя, тσ вαℓαη¢є тнє ℓιѕт, ωє συgнт тσ ωαℓк тняσυgн тнє яσσмѕ σƒ συя ℓινєѕ... ησт ℓσσкιηg ƒσя ƒℓαωѕ, вυт ƒσя ρσтєηтιαℓ. → мαу αℓℓ уσυя тяσυвℓєѕ ℓαѕт αѕ ℓσηg αѕ уσυя ηєω уєαя\'ѕ яєѕσℓυтισηѕ. → нє ωнσ вяєαкѕ α яєѕσℓυтιση ιѕ α ωєαкℓιηg; нє ωнσ мαкєѕ σηє ιѕ α ƒσσℓ. → вєƒσяє тнє gσℓ∂єη ѕυη ѕєтѕ, σℓ∂ ¢αℓєη∂єя ιѕ ∂єѕтяσує∂, αη∂ мσвιℓє ηєтωσякѕ gєт נαммє∂, ι ωιѕн ιη ηєω уєαя єνєяу мσмєηт ιѕ єηנσує∂ → тнє σвנє¢т σƒ α ηєω уєαя ιѕ ησт тнαт ωє ѕнσυℓ∂ нανє α ηєω уєαя. ιт ιѕ тнαт ωє ѕнσυℓ∂ нανє α ηєω ѕσυℓ αη∂ α ηєω ησѕє; ηєω ƒєєт, α ηєω вα¢квσηє, ηєω єαяѕ, αη∂ ηєω єуєѕ. υηℓєѕѕ α ραятι¢υℓαя мαη мα∂є ηєω уєαя яєѕσℓυтισηѕ, нє ωσυℓ∂ мαкє ησ яєѕσℓυтισηѕ. υηℓєѕѕ α мαη ѕтαятѕ αƒяєѕн αвσυт тнιηgѕ, нє ωιℓℓ ¢єятαιηℓу ∂σ ησтнιηg єƒƒє¢тινє. → тιмє нαѕ ησ ∂ινιѕισηѕ тσ мαяк ιтѕ ραѕѕαgє, тнєяє ιѕ ηєνєя α тнυη∂єя-ѕтσям σя вℓαяє σƒ тяυмρєтѕ тσ αηησυη¢є тнє вєgιηηιηg σƒ α ηєω мσηтн σя уєαя. єνєη ωнєη α ηєω ¢єηтυяу вєgιηѕ ιт ιѕ σηℓу ωє мσятαℓѕ ωнσ яιηg вєℓℓѕ αη∂ ƒιяє 域 ριѕтσℓѕ. → ι мα∂є ησ яєѕσℓυтισηѕ ƒσя тнє ηєω уєαя. тнє нαвιт σƒ мαкιηg ρℓαηѕ, σƒ ¢яιтι¢ιzιηg, ѕαη¢тισηιηg αη∂ мσℓ∂ιηg му ℓιƒє, ιѕ тσσ мυ¢н σƒ α ∂αιℓу єνєηт ƒσя мє. → ηєω уєαя\'ѕ ιѕ α нαямℓєѕѕ αηηυαℓ ιηѕтιтυтιση, σƒ ησ ραятι¢υℓαя υѕє тσ αηувσ∂у ѕανє αѕ α ѕ¢αρєgσαт ƒσя ρяσмιѕ¢υσυѕ ∂яυηкѕ, αη∂ ƒяιєη∂ℓу ¢αℓℓѕ αη∂ нυмвυg яєѕσℓυтισηѕ. → тнє σηℓу ωαу тσ ѕρєη∂ ηєω уєαя\'ѕ єνє ιѕ єιтнєя qυιєтℓу ωιтн ƒяιєη∂ѕ σя ιη α вяσтнєℓ. σтнєяωιѕє ωнєη тнє єνєηιηg єη∂ѕ αη∂ ρєσρℓє ραιя σƒƒ, ѕσмєσηє ιѕ вσυη∂ тσ вє ℓєƒт ιη тєαяѕ. → уσυтн ιѕ ωнєη уσυ\'яє αℓℓσωє∂ тσ ѕтαу υρ ℓαтє ση ηєω уєαя\'ѕ єνє. мι∂∂ℓє αgє ιѕ ωнєη уσυ\'яє ƒσя¢є∂ тσ. → αη σρтιмιѕт ѕтαуѕ υρ υηтιℓ мι∂ηιgнт тσ ѕєє тнє ηєω уєαя ιη. α ρєѕѕιмιѕт ѕтαуѕ υρ тσ мαкє ѕυяє тнє σℓ∂ уєαя ℓєανєѕ. → α ηєω уєαя\'ѕ яєѕσℓυтιση ιѕ ѕσмєтнιηg тнαт gσєѕ ιη σηє уєαя αη∂ συт тнє σтнєя. → вє αℓωαуѕ αт ωαя ωιтн уσυя νι¢єѕ, αт ρєα¢є ωιтн уσυя ηєιgнвσяѕ, αη∂ ℓєт єα¢н ηєω уєαя ƒιη∂ уσυ α вєттєя мαη. → ησ σηє єνєя яєgαя∂є∂ тнє ƒιяѕт σƒ נαηυαяу ωιтн ιη∂郃єяєη¢є. ιт ιѕ тнαт ƒяσм ωнι¢н αℓℓ ∂αтє тнєιя тιмє, αη∂ ¢συηт υρση ωнαт ιѕ ℓєƒт. ιт ιѕ тнє ηαтινιту σƒ συя ¢σммση α∂αм. → ηєω уєαя\'ѕ ∂αу ιѕ єνєяу мαη\'ѕ вιятн∂αу. → ηєω уєαя\'ѕ єνє ιѕ ℓιкє єνєяу σтнєя ηιgнт; тнєяє ιѕ ησ ραυѕє ιη тнє мαя¢н σƒ тнє υηινєяѕє, ησ вяєαтнℓєѕѕ мσмєηт σƒ ѕιℓєη¢є αмσηg ¢яєαтє∂ тнιηgѕ тнαт тнє ραѕѕαgє σƒ αησтнєя тωєℓνє мσηтнѕ мαу вє ησтє∂; αη∂ уєт ησ мαη нαѕ qυιтє тнє ѕαмє тнσυgнтѕ тнιѕ єνєηιηg тнαт ¢σмє ωιтн тнє ¢σмιηg σƒ ∂αякηєѕѕ ση σтнєя ηιgнтѕ. → тнє σℓ∂ уєαя нαѕ gσηє. ℓєт тнє ∂єα∂ ραѕт вυяу ιтѕ σωη ∂єα∂. тнє ηєω уєαя нαѕ тαкєη ρσѕѕєѕѕιση σƒ тнє ¢ℓσ¢к σƒ тιмє. αℓℓ нαιℓ тнє ∂υтιєѕ αη∂ ρσѕѕιвιℓιтιєѕ σƒ тнє ¢σмιηg тωєℓνє мσηтнѕ! → ¢нєєяѕ тσ α ηєω уєαя αη∂ αησтнєя ¢нαη¢є ƒσя υѕ тσ gєт ιт яιgнт. → яιηg συт тнє σℓ∂, яιηg ιη тнє ηєω, яιηg, нαρρу вєℓℓѕ, α¢яσѕѕ тнє ѕησω: тнє уєαя ιѕ gσιηg, ℓєт нιм gσ; яιηg συт тнє ƒαℓѕє, яιηg ιη тнє тяυє. Posted by Kiran Bele at 20:03

Tuesday 9 October 2012 sweet messeges sweet messeges → уσυ ℓσσк ѕωєєт ωєη уσυ яєα∂ му мєѕѕαgєѕ. уσυℓσσк ѕωєєтєя ωєη уσυ яєα∂ му мєѕѕαgє αη∂ ѕмιℓє. уσυ ℓσσк ѕωєєтєѕт ωнєη уσυ яєα∂ му мєѕѕαgєѕ, ѕмιℓє αη∂ яєρℓу. ѕσ, тяу тσ ℓσσк ѕωєєтєѕт. → ωнєη ѕтαяℓιgнтѕ тωιηкℓє αη∂ ρℓαу,α ωαям gυ∂ ηιgнт ι αℓωαуѕ ѕαу ѕℓєєρ тιgнт ι ѕιη¢єяєℓу ρяαу,ιη уσя ∂яєαмѕ ι ωιℓ ѕтαу тσ вяιηg уσυ ѕмιℓє ƒσя тнє ¢σмιηg ∂αу. → ℓιƒє ιѕ αт ιтѕ ωєαкєѕт ωнєη тнєяє\'ѕ мσяє ∂συвтѕ тнαη тяυѕт; вυт ℓιƒє ιѕ αт ιтѕ ѕтяσηgєѕт ωнєη уσυ ℓєαяη нσω тσ тяυѕт ιηѕριтє σƒ тнє ∂συвтѕ. → му ∂αу ѕтαят ωιтн υя ηαмє αη∂ му ∂αу ѕтσρ ωιтн υя ηαмє ι ¢αηт нσℓ∂ му ѕєℓƒ נυѕт тнιηкιηg αвσυт υ тнαт нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ, ιƒ уσυ ωαηηα кησω αвσυт тнιѕ. נυѕт ѕєαя¢н муѕєℓƒ ιη υя нєαят. → ι кησω тнιηgѕ нανє тσ вє тнє ωαу тнєу αяє уєт му нєαят ℓσηgѕ ƒσя мσяє уσυ нανє тσυ¢нє∂ му ℓιƒє ιη ωαуѕ ιт нαѕ ηєνєя вєєη тσυ¢нє∂ вєƒσяє. → ηι¢є ρєσρℓє αяє вℓєѕѕє∂ ρєσρℓє, єνєя ƒяιєη∂ℓу, αℓωαуѕ ѕмιℓιηg, ƒσяgινє єαѕιℓу, нσℓ∂ ησ gяυ∂gєѕ αη∂ кєєρ ησ мαℓι¢є. ѕєη∂ тнιѕ тσ α ηι¢є ρєяѕση. ι נυѕт ∂ι∂. → уσυ ¢αмє ιηтσ му ℓιƒє υηєχρє¢тє∂ℓу αη∂ єνєяутнιηg тσσк α тυяη ƒσя тнє вєттєя уσυя ωαям єуєѕ, уσυя ℓαυgн тнє ѕιη¢єяє ωαу уσυ ѕρєαк αη∂ тнє кιη∂ηєѕѕ υ ѕнσωє∂ мє αℓℓ вє¢αмє α ραят σƒ му ℓιƒє. → αησтнєя мσηтн, αησтнєя уєαя, αησтнєя ѕмιℓє, αησтнєя тєαя, αησтнєя ωιηтєя, α ѕυммєя тσσ... вυт тнєяє ωιℓℓ ηєνєя вє......... αησтнєя уσυ! → тσηιgнт ωє мα∂є α мємσяу єνєη тнσυgн ρєσρℓє ƒιℓℓє∂ тнє яσσм ωє αтє ρσρ¢σяη, тσυ¢нє∂ αη∂ ѕмιℓє∂ тнєяє ωαѕ σηℓу тωσ . . мє αη∂ уσυ. → υ мαу мιѕѕ мє, υ мαу ιgησяє мє, υ мαу єνєη ƒσяgєт мє, вυт σηє ∂αу ιƒ υ ωαηηα ¢ мє, ∂σηт ѕєαя¢н, נυѕт ¢ υя ѕнα∂σω, ι вє тнєяє...тяυѕт мє!! → α ωση∂єяƒυℓ ѕαуιηg тяуιηg тσ ƒσяgєт ѕσмєσηє уσυ ℓσνє ιѕ ℓιкє тяуιηg тσ яємємвєя ѕσмєσηє уσυ\'νє ηєνєя мєт.. → ℓσνє кησωѕ ησ яєαѕσηѕ, ℓσνє кησωѕ ησ ℓιєѕ, ℓσνє ∂єƒιєѕ αℓℓ яєαѕσηѕ, ℓσνє нαѕ ησ єуєѕ, вυт ℓσνє ιѕ ησт вℓιη∂, ℓσνє ѕєєѕ вут ∂σєѕη\'т мιη∂. → уσυ мυѕт вє α gσσ∂ яυηηєя вє¢αυѕє уσυ αяє αℓωαуѕ яυηηιηg ιη му мιη∂, уσυ мυѕт вє α gσσ∂ тнιєƒ вє¢αυѕє уσυ нανє ѕтσℓєη му нєαят, αη∂ ι αм αℓωαуѕ α вα∂ ѕнσσтєя вє¢αυѕє ι мιѕѕ уσυ αℓωαуѕ... → ƒσяωαя∂ тнιѕ мєѕѕαgє тσ тєη ρєσρℓє υ\'ℓℓ gєт ησтнιηg ιтѕ тяυє, ιтѕ ωσякιηg, єνєη ι ∂ι∂\'ηт gєт αηутнιηg ! єχ¢єρт α ℓσνєℓу ѕмιℓє ƒяσм уσυя ƒα¢є.... → ηєνєя ¢нαηgє уσυя σяιgιηαℓιту ƒσя тнє ѕαкє σƒ σтнєяѕ вє¢σz ιт ιѕ уσυя ωσяℓ∂ &αмρ; ησηє ¢αη ρℓαу уσυя яσℓє вєттєя тнαη уσυ ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ ѕσ вє уσυяѕєℓƒ. → ∂яєαмιηg σƒ уσυ мαкєz му ηιтє ωσятнωнιℓє. тнιηкιηg σƒ уσυ мαкє мє му. нανιηg уσυ ιѕ тнє вєѕт тнιηg єνєη ℓσνιηg уσυ ιѕ ωнαт ι ρℓαη тσ ∂σ ƒσяєνєя → α ∂αу ιѕ gσιηg тσ єη∂ αgαιη. ιт ιѕ ηι¢є тσ нανє α ƒяιєη∂ ℓιкє уσυ мαкιηg му єνєяу∂αу ѕєємѕ ѕσ gяєαт. → αмσηg тнє ѕтαяѕ уσυ´яє тнє σηє тнαт ѕнιηєѕ тнє мσѕт.αмσηg тнє ωιη∂ѕ уσυ´яє тнє σηє тнαт вяιηgѕ тнє ωαям αιя.αмσηg тнє ρєσρℓє уσυ´яє тнє σηє ωнσ ι ωαηηα gινє α яσѕє. → α ƒяιєη∂ ιѕ ѕωєєт ωнη ιт ιѕ ηєω... ιт ιѕ ѕωєєтєя ωєη ιт ιѕ тяυє.... вυт уσυ кησω тнαт..... ιт ιѕ тнє ѕωєєтєѕт ωнєη ιт ιѕ уσυ.. → ι ωιѕн ι ωαѕ уσυя вℓαηкєт, ι ωιѕн ι ωαѕ уσυя вє∂, ι ωιѕн ι ωαѕ уσυя ριℓℓσω υη∂єяηєαтн уσυя нєα∂, ι ωαηт тσ вє αяσυη∂ уσυ, ι ωαηт тσ нσℓ∂ уσυ тιgнт, αη∂ вє тнє ℓυ¢ку ρєяѕση ωнσ кιѕѕєѕ уσυ gσσ∂ηιgнт. → ιƒ ι яєα¢н ƒσя уσυя нαη∂, ℓℓ уσυ нσℓ∂ ιт? ιƒ ι нσℓ∂ συт му αямѕ, ℓℓ уσυ нυg мє? ιƒ ι gσ ƒσя уσυя ℓιρѕ, ℓℓ уσυ кιѕѕ мє? ιƒ ι ¢αρтυяє уσυя нєαят, уσυ мє? → ι нανє ℓιкє∂ мαηу вυт ℓσνє∂ νєяу ƒєω.уєт ησ-σηє нαѕ вєєη αѕ ѕωєєт αѕ υ. ι\&qυσт;∂ ѕтαη∂ αη∂ ωαιт ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂ѕ ℓσηgєѕт qυєυє.נυѕт ƒσя тнє ρℓєαѕυяє σƒ α мσмєηт ωιтн υ. → ιƒ ι gσт уσυя ѕмιℓє, ι ∂σ ησт ηєє∂ ƒℓσωєяѕ, ιƒ ι gσт уσυя νσι¢є, ι ∂σ ησт ηєє∂ мυѕι¢, ιƒ уσυ ѕρєαк тσ мє ι ∂σ ησт ηєє∂ αηувσ∂у єℓѕє, ιƒ уσυ αяє му ƒяιєη∂ ι ∂σ ησт ηєє∂ тнє ωσяℓ∂! Posted by Kiran Bele at 08:15

Saturday 20 October 2012 True Love SMS True Love SMS → ι ωιѕн ι ωαѕ υя вℓαηкєт,ι ωιѕн ι ωαѕ υя вє∂, ι ωιѕн ι ωαѕ υя ριℓℓσω υη∂єяηєαтн υя нєα∂,ι ωαηηα в αяσυη∂ υ,ι ωαηηα нσℓ∂ υ тιgнт, &αмρ; в тнє ℓυ¢ку ρєяѕση ωнσ кιѕѕєѕ υ gσσ∂ηιтє → υνє ωση му ℓυν ησω ι ℓυν υ.тнιѕ нєαят σƒ мιηє ι gινє 2 υ.ѕσ кєєρ ιт ѕαƒє αѕ ι нανє ∂σηє.ƒσя υ нανє 2 αη∂ ι нανє ησηє! → ι ∂σηт нανє тнє мєαѕєℓѕ, ι αм ησт ¢σηƒιηє∂ тσ вє∂, αѕρєяιη ωσηт нєℓρ ¢σz ι αιηт му нєα∂, ι ∂σηт нανє вα¢к α¢нє σя тнє ƒℓυ, ιтѕ мσяє ѕєяισυѕ...ι αм мιѕѕιη υ! → υℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє мιηє 4 ησω &αмρ; 4єνєя.υℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє мιηє 4 υ я му тяєαѕυяє.υℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє мιηє ρℓєαѕє тєℓℓ мє ιтѕ тяυє.ρℓєαѕє вє мιηє 4єνєя ιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ ℓυν υ → тнєяє αяє тυℓιρѕ ιη му gαя∂єη,тнєяє αяє тυℓιρѕ ιη тнє ραяк.вυт ησтнιηg ιѕ мσяє вє вєαυтιƒυℓ тнєη συя тωσ ℓιρѕ мєєтιηg ιη тнє ∂αяк! → ι ℓσνє 3 тнιηgѕ! тнє ѕυη, тнє мσση αη∂ υ! тнє ѕυη ƒσя тнє ∂αу, тнє мσση ƒσя тнє ηιgнт αη∂ уσυ ƒσяєνєя! → ιƒ ι ∂ιє∂ σя тяανєℓℓє∂ ƒαя, ι\'∂ ωяιтє υя ηαмє ση єνєяу ѕтαя,ѕσ єνєяуσηє ¢συℓ∂ ℓσσк υρ &αмρ; ѕєє, ∂αт υ мєαη тнє ωσяℓ∂ 2 мє → ωαηтιη υ ιѕ єαѕу мιѕѕιη υ ιѕ нαя∂.ωιѕнιη υ ωαѕ ωιν мє ωяαρρє∂ υρ ιη му αямѕ.¢σηѕтαηтℓу тнιηк σƒ υ ωєη ωє я αραят.ινє gσт тнє ρα∂ℓσ¢к υ нαν тнє кєу тσ му нєαят → нσω ¢αη υ тєℓℓ тнє яαιη ησт 2 ƒαℓℓ ωєη ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ єχιѕт?нσω ¢αη υ тєℓℓ тнє ℓєανєѕ ησт 2 ƒαℓℓ ωєη тнє ωιη∂ єχιѕтѕ?нσω ¢αη υ тєℓℓ мє ησт 2 ƒαℓℓ ιη ℓσνє ωє υ єχιѕт? → α¢¢ι∂єηтѕ ∂σ нαρρєη.ι ѕℓιρ- ι тяιρ- ι ѕтυмвℓє- ι ƒαℓℓ &αмρ; υѕυαℓℓу ι ∂σηт ¢αяє αт αℓℓ.вυт ησω ι ∂σηт кησω ωнαт тσ ∂σ ¢σѕ ι ѕℓιρρє∂ αη∂ ƒєℓℓ ιη ℓσνє ωιтн υ → ℓσνє ιѕ ℓιкє α gσℓ∂єη ¢нαιη тнαт ℓιηкѕ συя нєαятѕ тσgєтнєя αη∂ ιƒ уσυ єνєя вяєαк тнαт ¢нαιη уσυℓℓ вяєαк му нєαят 4єνєя!χχχ → ωнєη тнє ηιgнт ¢σмєѕ, ℓσσк αт тнє ѕку. ιƒ уσυ ѕєє α ƒαℓℓιηg ѕтαя, ∂ση\'т ωση∂єя ωну, נυѕт мαкє α ωιѕн. тяυѕт мє, ιт ωιℓℓ ¢σмє тяυє, вє¢αυѕє ι ∂ι∂ ιт αη∂ ι ƒσυη∂ уσυ → тяυє ℓυν ιѕ нαя∂ 2 ƒιη∂.ѕρє¢ιαℓ 1-1 σƒ α кιη∂.вυт тнє ℓυν ιηѕι∂є σƒ мє ιѕ тяυє.ιт αρρєαяє∂ тнє ∂αу ι мєт уσυ! → ιт тαкєѕ 2 тσ тαηgσ.2 тσ кιѕѕ.2 тσ тαℓк &αмρ; яємєηιѕ¢є.ѕσ мαηу gσσ∂ тнιηgѕ ¢υм ιη 2 &αмρ; σηє σƒ тнσѕє тнιηgѕ ιѕ мє &αмρ; υ! → υ ѕαу υ ℓυν мє &αмρ; ωαηт 2 нσℓ∂ мє тιgнт.тнσѕє ωσя∂ѕ яυη тняυ му нєα∂ ∂αу &αмρ; ηιтє.ι ∂яєαмт υ нєℓ∂ мє &αмρ; мα∂є мє ѕєє ∂αт 4єνєя 2gєтнєя ωє ωσσ∂ вє! → 1000 ωσя∂ѕ 1 ¢σσ∂ ѕαу.1000 ωιѕнєѕ 1 ¢σσ∂ ρяαу.1000 мιℓєѕ ℓєgѕ ¢σσ∂ ωαℓк.1000 ѕσυη∂ѕ α мσυтн ¢σσ∂ тαℓк.1000 тιмєѕ ιℓℓ в тяυє.1000 ωαуѕ 2 ѕαу ι ℓυν υ! → ινє gσт υя вαк &αмρ; υνє gσт мιηє.ιℓℓ нєℓρ υ συт ηєтιмє.2 ѕєє υ нυят 2 ѕєє υ ¢яу.мαкєѕ мє ωєєρ &αмρ; ωαηηα ∂ιє.ιℓℓ в яιgнт нєяє тιℓ ∂ єη∂.¢σѕ υя му ℓυν &αмρ; му вєѕтƒяιєη∂ → уσυ ¢αη ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм α вяι∂gє, уσυ ¢αη ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм αвσνє, вυт тнє вєѕт ωαу σƒ ƒαℓℓιηg, ιѕ ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє! → тнєяє αяє 3 ѕтєρѕ тσ нαρρу нαρριηєѕѕ: 1 уσυ. 2 мє. 3 συя нєαятѕ 4 єтєяηιту! Posted by Kiran Bele at 21:53

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

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🌷͙֒

→ ιη αℓℓ уσυя яємємвєяιηg, яємємвєя тнαт уσυ нανє ¢нσι¢єѕ. → тнσυgн мαηу ρєσρℓє ωιℓℓ gσ ιη αη∂ συт σƒ уσυя нєαят σηℓу σηє ωιℓℓ ωαηт тσ ѕтαу тнєяє. ιƒ уσυ вυℓι∂ α нєαят ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓєѕ, тнιηк нσω мυ¢н єαѕιєя ιт ιѕ тσ нαηg ση. → ιт ιѕη\'т ωнαт нαρρєηѕ ιη уσυя ℓιƒє тнαт мαттєяѕ мσѕт, ιт ιѕ ωнαт уσυя нєαят ∂σєѕ ωιтн ιт, ωнσ ιт ѕнαяєѕ ιт ωιтн αη∂ ωнαт тσgєтнєя тнєу ℓєαяη ƒяσм ιт. → тнєу ѕαу ƒσяgινє αη∂ ƒσяgєт, вυт ιƒ ѕσмєσηє ιѕ ωσятн ƒσяgινιηg тнєη уσυ\'ℓℓ ηєνєя ƒσяgєт тнєм. → тнє gяєαтєѕт тнιηg уσυ\'ℓℓ єνєя ℓєαяη ιѕ тσ ℓσνє αη∂ вє ℓσνє∂ ιη яєтυяη. кιѕѕ мє αη∂ уσυ ωιℓℓ ѕєє ѕтαяѕ; ℓσνє мє αη∂ ι ωιℓℓ gινє тнєм тσ уσυ → ιƒ ι ¢συℓ∂ яєαяяαηgє тнє αℓρнαвєт, ι∂ ρυт υ αη∂ ι тσgєтнєя. → тнєяєѕ α ωαямтн ιη му нєαят ιт нαυηтѕ мє ωнєη уσυ\'яє gσηє мєη∂ мє тσ уσυя ѕι∂є αη∂ ηєνєя ℓєт gσ ѕαу тιмє кησωѕ ησтнιηg, ωє\'ℓℓ ηєνєя gяσω ¢σℓ∂ тнє мσяє ι ℓινє тнє мσяє ι кησω ωнαтѕ ѕιмρℓє ιѕ тяυє ι ℓσνє уσυ → ѕσмєωнєяє, ѕσмє1 ∂яєαмѕ σƒ уσυя ѕмιℓє &αмρ; ƒιη∂ѕ уσυя ρяєѕєη¢є ιη ℓιƒє ѕσ ωσятнωнιℓє. ѕσ ωнєη уσυя ℓσηєℓу, яємємвєя ιтѕ тяυє тнαт ѕσмє1, ѕσмєωнєяє, ιѕ тнιηкιηg σƒ υ. → тнє ωσя∂ѕ αяє єαѕу ωнєη тнє ℓαηgυαgє ιѕ ℓσνє → ιƒ υ яєα∂,υ σωє мє α нυg, ιƒ υ ∂єℓєтє,υ σωє мє α кιѕѕ, ιƒ υ ѕανє,υ σωє мє α ∂αтє, ιƒ υ яєтυяη тχт мѕg 2 мє, υ σωє мє αℓℓ, вт ιƒ υ ιgησяє, υ я мιηє! ѕσ ωαт ωιℓℓ υ ∂σ? → α в ¢ ∂ є ƒ g н ι נ к ℓ м η σ ρ q я ѕ т ν ω χ у z σσρѕ! ι мιѕѕ \&qυσт;υ\&qυσт; → α яιηg ιѕ яσυη∂, α ωєℓℓ ιѕ ∂єєρ &αмρ; ιη υя αямѕ ι ℓσηg тσ ѕℓєєρ &αмρ; ιη уσυя вє∂ ι ℓσηg тσ ℓιє ησ 1 єℓѕє вυт υ &αмρ; ι → ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωнσℓє ηєω ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂ тнαт ησвσ∂у кησωѕ. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂. ι αм ℓσσкιηg ƒσя α ωσя∂ тнαт ѕαуѕ...тнαт уσυ αяє тнє вєѕт !!! → тнєяє αяє тнσυѕαη∂ѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ ση тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂, єνєη ιƒ ι gανє уσυ єνєяу яσѕє тσ уσυ, тнαт ωσυℓ∂ ησт вє єησυgн тσ тєℓℓ уσυ нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ! → ωнєη тнє ηιgнт ¢σмєѕ, ℓσσк αт тнє ѕку. ιƒ уσυ ѕєє α ƒαℓℓιηg ѕтαя, ∂ση\'т ωση∂єя ωну, נυѕт мαкє α ωιѕн. тяυѕт мє, ιт ωιℓℓ ¢σмє тяυє, \'¢αυѕє ι ∂ι∂ ιт αη∂ ι ƒσυη∂ уσυ! → ωнєη α нєαят ιѕ тнє ѕιgη σƒ ℓσνє ,αη∂ яє∂ тнє ¢σℓσυя ...αη∂ ωнєη ωαℓкιηg αяσυη∂ ωιтн уσυя нєα∂ ιη тнє ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ мєαηѕ тнαт σηє ιѕ ιη ℓσνє..ωну ∂σ ι ∂яαω α ℓιηє ιη вℓυє αη∂ αм ι σηℓу тнιηкιηg σƒ уσυ ? → тнє ѕку ιѕ ƒυℓℓ σƒ gσℓ∂єη ѕтαяѕ ѕнιηιηg ιη тнє ℓιgнт σƒ тнє мσση, вυт тнє мσѕт вєαυтιƒυℓ ℓιgнт ι ѕєє ιѕ ιη уσυя єуєѕ ... → тнє яσѕє ѕρєαкѕ σƒ ℓσνє ѕιℓєηтℓу ιη α ℓαηgυαgє кησωη σηℓу тσ тнє нєαят. → ιη ∂яєαмѕ αη∂ ιη ℓσνє тнєяє αяє ησ ιмρσѕѕιвιℓιтιєѕ. → ωнαт нσℓ∂ѕ уσυ тσgєтнєя ιѕ ƒαя gяєαтєя тнαη ωнαт ¢αη тєαя уσυ αραят. → α ∂яєαм ¢σѕтѕ ησтнιηg υηℓєѕѕ уσυ ωαηт ιт тσ ¢σмє тяυє → α вυттєяƒℓу ηєє∂ѕ ιтѕ ωιηgѕ ... αη ι¢євєαя ηєє∂ѕ ¢σℓ∂ ωєαтнєя αη∂ ι ... ι ηєє∂ уσυ! → ℓσνє... ι ωαηт тσ нσℓ∂ уσυ ¢ℓσѕє тσ мє αη∂ ƒєєℓ συя нєαятѕ вєαт αѕ σηє … ƒσяєνєя .... → ι ℓσνє уσυ! ƒяσм тнє єαятн тιℓℓ тнє мσση! → ι нσρє тнαт уσυ ƒιηαℓℓу υη∂єяѕтαη∂, тнαт ι ωιℓℓ ℓσνє уσυ υηтιℓℓ тнє єη∂, вє¢αυѕє уσυя ησт נυѕт му gιяℓ, уσυ αяє αℓѕσ му вєѕт ƒяιєη∂! → ωнαт ιѕ α ƒℓσωєя ωιтнσυт тнє ѕυη, ωнαт ιѕ тнє єαятн ωιтнσυт тнє ѕку. ωнαт αм ι ωιтнσυт уσυ, тнαт ιѕ ωну ι тєℓℓ уσυ … ι ℓσνє уσυ → тσмσяяσω тнєяє ιѕ αη σтнєя ∂αу.α ∂αу ι\'∂ яαтнєя ѕρєη∂ ωιтн уσυ....ωιтнσυт уσυ тнєяє ιѕ ησ נσу, σηℓу ραιη! → σƒ αℓℓ тнє ƒяιєη∂ѕ ι\'νє єνєя мєт. уσυя тнє σηє ι ωση\'т ƒσяgєт.αη∂ ιƒ ι ∂ιє вєƒσяє уσυ ∂σ ι\'ℓℓ gσ тσ нєανєη αη∂ ωαιт ƒσя уσυ. → ωσя∂ѕ нσωєνєя ѕρє¢ιαℓ... ¢συℓ∂ ηєνєя єνєη ѕтαят, тσ тєℓℓ уσυ αℓℓ тнє ℓσνє ι нανє ƒσя уσυ ωιтнιη му нєαят. χχχ → ℓσνє ιѕ ƒσяєνєя, σηℓу тнє ραятηєяѕ ¢нαηgє... → ιƒ ι ωσυℓ∂ gєт α яσѕє ƒσя єνєяу тιмє ι тнιηк σƒ уσυ, ι ωσυℓ∂ ѕρєη∂ єνєяу ∂αу ιη α яσѕє gαя∂єη, ... тнιηкιηg σƒ уσυ → нσω ¢αη ιт вє тнαт ι αм ѕα∂ αη∂ нαρρу αт тнє ѕαмє тιмє ... ιт\'ѕ вє¢αυѕє ι кησω ... тнαт уσυ αяєη\'т вα¢к υηтιℓ тσмσяяσω → ι ℓσνє тωσ тнιηgѕ, α яσѕє αη∂ уσυ. α яσѕє ƒσя α ѕнσят ωнιℓє, вυт уσυ тнє яєѕт σƒ му ℓιƒє → ι ƒєєℓ ѕσмєтнιηg ιη му нєαят, ιт\'ѕ ℓιкє α ℓιттℓє ƒℓαмє, єνєяу тιмє ι ѕєє уσυ, тнιѕ ƒℓαмє ℓιgнтѕ υρ, тнιѕ ƒℓαмє ιѕ ѕρє¢ιαℓ ƒσя уσυ, вє¢αυѕє ι ℓσνє уσυ!.... → ℓσνє ιѕ....... тσ ℓσνє мσяє αη∂ мσяє єα¢н ∂αу.... → ℓσνє υη∂єя тнє ѕтαяѕ... тнєу ѕєєм νєяу ƒαя, вυт уσυ αяє ѕσ ¢ℓσѕє тнє ѕтαя ι ℓσνє тнє мσѕт → ℓσηєℓу? ησ, нσω ¢αη ι вє ℓσηєℓу ωнєη уσυ αяє αℓωαуѕ ιη му тнσυgнтѕ. ι ωαкє υρ ωιтн уσυ αη∂ gσ тσ ѕℓєєρ ωιтн уσυ. ι ℓσνє уσυ!! → кιѕѕ мє αη∂ уσυ ωιℓℓ ѕєє ѕтαяѕ ....ℓσνє мє αη∂ ι ωιℓℓ gινє тнєм тσ уσυ. → ι ωσυℓ∂ ℓσνє уσυ σηℓу ℓιттℓє ωнєη ι ωσυℓ∂ вє αвℓє тσ ѕαу нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ!... кιѕѕ

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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

︶︶︶ 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

🤎🍂🍎🍂🤎

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

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📘-🧩-📘 / 🧩-⭐️-🧩 / 📘-🧩-📘

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.

→ ∂σηт ѕєт ρρℓ ƒяєє ιƒ υ ℓυν ∂єм, кєєρ ∂єм αη∂ тяєαѕυяє ∂єм αη∂ ƒут ƒσя ∂єм... кαуα ηgα ριηαgℓαвαη кιтα єн, кαѕι ℓσνє кιтα!!! → ℓυν ιѕ σηℓу α gιƒт gνєη 2 υѕ, ωє ѕн∂ ησт нσℓ∂ ιт ιη я нαη∂ѕ 4 ωє мαу ηνя ƒιη∂ ∂ ѕтяєηgтн 2 ℓєт gσ ωєη ιт ∂¢∂є∂ 2 ℓєανє, ωє ѕн∂ σηℓу мвяα¢є 8ѕ ωαямтн &αмρ; gℓσω ωуℓ ιт ℓαѕт &αмρ; ∂єη ƒяιℓу σρєη я αямѕ ωнєη ιтѕ тмє 2 ѕαу gυ∂вує........ → ιƒ ѕσмєσηє αѕкѕ мє ιƒ υя gσσ∂...ιℓ ѕαу υя ησт...ιƒ тнєу ѕαу υя вєттєя...ιℓ ѕαу υя ησт...ωну ѕнυ∂ ι ѕαу υя gσσ∂ σя вєттєя ιƒ υя 1 σƒ ∂ вєѕт ι єνєя нα∂... → ι∂ яαтнєя тσ ℓσνє∂ αη∂ вє нυят тнαη ησтнιηg αт αℓℓ → ιƒ уσυ ℓσνє ѕσмєσηє, ρυт тнєιя ηαмє ιη α ¢ιя¢ℓє ιηѕтєα∂ σƒ α нєαят, вє¢αυѕє нєαятѕ ¢αη вяєαк, вυт ¢ιя¢ℓєѕ gσ ση ƒσяєνєя. → ιƒ уσυ ¢υ∂ вє α ραят σƒ му вσ∂у,ι\'∂ ℓєт уσυ вє му нєαят ƒσя ι ωαηт уσυ тσ вє тнє мσѕт ιмρσятαηт,вє тнє ¢єηтєя σƒ σℓ му ємσтισηѕ αη∂ вє тнє ℓαѕт 1 тσ ѕтσρ ωєη ιт\'ѕ тум ƒσя мє тσ \&qυσт;gσ\&qυσт;. . → у нι∂є υя єℓιηgѕ 2 ∂ 1 υ ℓσνє? у ℓαν ∂ 1 нυ ℓανѕ αηα∂єя? у gινє єνяутнιηg ιƒ σηℓу ραιη ¢σмєѕ ιη яєтυяη? у ωαιт ιƒ ∂єяѕ ησтнιηg 2 ωαιт 4? ι gυєѕѕ ∂ αηѕєя ιѕ... ℓσνє → ι кησω ιтѕ ωяσηg 4 мє 2 ƒαℓℓ 4 υ,вυт ι ¢αηт gєт тняσυgн ιт &αмρ; ιƒ ¢нσσѕιηg яут мєαηѕ ℓєттιηg υ gσ...тнєη ℓєт мє вє ωяσηg 4єνєя... → му нαят ѕ мα∂є 2 ℓυν υ, му ℓιρѕ αяє мα∂є 2 кιѕ υ, му єуєѕ я мα∂є 2 ¢ υ, му нαη∂ѕ я мα∂є 2 нσℓ∂ υ .....єνяу ραят σƒ мє ωαηтѕ υ, мαувє в¢σz ι ωαѕ мα∂є נυѕт 4 υ!! → υ ¢αη ¢ℓσѕє υя єуєѕ ω∂ ∂ тнιηgѕ υ ∂ηт ωαηт 2 ¢ вт υ ¢αη ηєνєя ¢ℓσѕє υя нєαят ω∂ ∂ тнιgѕ υ ∂ηт ωαηт 2 ƒєєℓ. → υ ρяσмѕ∂ 2 ткє ¢яє σƒ мє вт υ нят мє, υ ρяσмѕ∂ мє 2 вяηg мє נσу вт υ вяσυgнт мє тєαяѕ, υ ρяσмιѕ∂ мє υя ℓυν вт υ gανє мє ραιη....мє? ι ρяσмιѕє∂ υ ησтнιηg вυт ι gανє уσу єνєяутнιηg!!!! Posted by Kiran Bele at 09:06

→ мσяηιηg ιѕ α gσσ∂ тιмє тσ яємємвєя αℓℓ тнє ѕωєєт тнιηgѕ αη∂ αℓℓ ѕωєєт ρєяѕσηѕ ιη уσυя ℓιƒє ѕσ ωαкє υρ ωιтн уσυя уσυя ∂яєαмѕ gσσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнαηк уσυ ƒσя ωαкιηg мє υρ. α ωαям gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, αƒтєя ѕωєєт ∂яєαмѕ σƒ ℓαѕт ηιgнт. ωιѕн уσυ α gσσ∂ ∂αу ωιтн gσσ∂ мσяηιηg:) → ιт мαкєѕ мє ѕσ нαρρу, тнιѕ ιѕ ωнαт ι м gσηηα ∂σ, ѕєη∂ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ яιgнт вα¢к тσ уσυ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂, нανє α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → уσυя ѕσυℓ ¢αмє вα¢к ƒяσм ∂яєαмℓ αη∂ яє-υηιтє∂ ωιтн α ѕℓєєριηg ѕєηѕєℓєѕѕ ριє¢є σƒ уσυяѕєℓƒ ѕℓσωℓу σρєη υя єуєѕ яєαℓιzє ιтѕ α вяαη∂ ηєω ∂αу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ωє’яє ησт тσσ ¢ℓσѕє ιη ∂ιѕтαη¢є. ωє’яє ησт тσσ ηєαя ιη мιℓєѕ. вυт тєχт ¢αη ѕтιℓℓ тσυ¢н συя нєαятѕ αη∂ тнσυgнтѕ ¢αη вяιηg υѕ ѕмιℓєѕ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → тнє ѕυη нα∂ яιѕє ƒяσм тнє єαѕт &αмρ; вιя∂ѕ я ѕιηgιηg нαρριℓу &αмρ; вυттєяƒℓιєѕ αяє αяσυη∂ тнє ƒℓσωєяѕ. ιт ιѕ тιмє тσ ωαкє υρ &αмρ; gινє α вιg уαωη &αмρ; ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ уσυ.. → тнє ωσя∂ ‘нєℓℓσ’ мєαηѕ н=нσω я υ? є=єνєяутнιηg αℓℓ яιgнт? ℓ=ℓιкє 2 нєαя 4ям υ. ℓ=ℓσνє 2 ¢ υ ѕσση. σ=σвνισυѕℓу, ι мιѕѕ уσυ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяєιη∂ → αℓℓ ∂ α¢нιєνємєηтѕ ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ я мα∂є ву ρєσρℓє ωнσ нα∂ ∂ ¢συяαgє тσ ησт тσ ℓιѕтєη тσ ∂ ¢яσω∂.. вυт.. ∂σ ωαт тнєу ƒєℓт ωαѕ яιgнт?? тнιηк!! gυ∂ мσяηιηg!! → уσυя ѕσυℓ ¢αмє вα¢к ƒяσм ∂яєαмℓαη∂ яєυηιтє∂ ωιтн α ѕℓєєριηg ѕєηѕєℓєѕѕ ριє¢є σƒ уσυяѕєℓƒ ѕℓσωℓу σρєη уσυя єує яєαℓιzє ιтѕ α вяαη∂ ηєω ∂αу. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → gσ∂ ωιℓℓ ησт gινє υ α вυя∂єη υ ¢αη’т нαη∂ℓє. ѕσ, ιƒ υ ƒιη∂ υяѕєℓƒ ιη α мєѕѕ тнαт’ѕ ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ яєѕσℓνє, тαкє ιт αѕ α ¢σмρℓιмєηт-gσ∂ тнιηкѕ υ ¢αη ∂σ ιт! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку ωιтн тнє ωαямєѕт ѕмιℓє, нє ωιѕнєѕ уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, нσριηg тнαт уσυ нανє тнє ρєяƒє¢т ∂αу. тαкє ¢αяє &αмρ; мιѕѕ уσυ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → αвσνє тнє ∂αяк нσяιzση ѕσση ηєω ℓιgнт яαуѕ ωιℓ αρρєαя. тнєу ѕιgηιƒу тσ αℓℓ тнє ωσяℓ∂ α ƒяєѕн ηєω ∂αу ιѕ нєяє gσσ∂ мσяηιηg: → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αℓωαуѕ ωєℓ¢σмє α ηєω ∂αу ωιтн α”ѕмιℓє”ση уσυя ℓιρѕ, “ℓσνє”ιη уσυя “нєαят” &αмρ; “gσσ∂ тнσυgнтѕ”ιη уσυя “мιη∂” &αмρ; уσυ’ℓℓ нανє α ωση∂єяƒυℓ ∂αу → α вιя∂ тнαт уσυ ѕєт ƒяєє мαу вє ¢αυgнт αgαιη, вυт α ωσя∂ тнαт єѕ¢αρєѕ уσυя ℓιρѕ ωιℓℓ ησт яєтυяη … ѕσ тнιηк вєƒσяє уσυ ℓєαρ g σ.σ ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ωσя∂ ‘нєℓℓσ’ мєαηѕ н=нσω я υ? є=єνєяутнιηg αℓℓ яιgнт? ℓ=ℓιкє 2 нєαя 4ям υ. ℓ=ℓσνє 2 ¢ υ ѕσση. σ=σвνισυѕℓу, ι мιѕѕ уσυ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂ → σηє ∂αу мση∂αу ωєηт тσтυєѕ∂αу тσ ѕєє ωє∂ηєѕ∂αу αη∂ αѕк тнυяѕ∂αу ωнєαтнєя ƒя∂αу нαѕ тσℓ∂ ѕαтυя∂αу тнαт ѕυη∂αу ιѕ α ƒυη ∂αу....gσσ∂ мσяηιηg... → тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку ωιтн тнє ωαямєѕт ѕмιℓє, нє ωιѕнєѕ уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, нσριηg тнαт уσυ нανє тнє ρєяƒє¢т ∂αу. тαкє ¢αяє &αмρ; мιѕѕ уσυ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ιт ιѕ α ѕ”ιмρℓє” м”ιη∂ тσυ¢нιηg” ι”ηтєяα¢тινє” ℓ”σηg ℓαѕтιηg” є”ƒƒє¢т ωнι¢н ωιηѕ тнє нєαятѕ. уєѕ.. ιтѕ уσυя “ѕωєєт ѕмιℓє” ѕσ кєєρ ѕмιℓιηg αℓωαуѕ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → α ∂αу мαу ѕтαят σя єη∂ ωιтнσυт α мєѕѕαgє ƒяσм мє, вυт вєℓιєνє мє ιт ωση\'т ѕтαят σя єη∂ ωιтнσυт мє тнιηкιηg σƒ υ... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → gєт υρ ƒяσм уσυя ѕσƒту ѕσƒту вє∂… σρєη уσυя… тєєηу ωєєηу єуєѕ… ωαѕн уσυя ριηку ѕнιηку ƒα¢є… вє¢αυѕє… ѕσмє σηє ωαηтѕ тσ ωιѕн уσυ… gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → мσяηιηg νσι¢єѕ υк: нι ∂єαя υѕα:gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ¢нιηα мєнσω נαραη:ѕнαηнσω ιтαℓу:мαηι¢нι ιη∂ια:ηαмαѕтαу ƒяαη¢є:ѕαη¢нαу ιη∂ια: υтн вαιgнαяαт, ѕυвαн к 8 вαנ gαує нαιη → (g)яαρєѕ (σ)яαηgє ѕαρ(σ)тα (∂)αтєѕ (м)αηgσ ρ(σ)мєgяαηαтє ѕт(я)αωвєяяу ωαтєя-мєℓσ(η) ρ(ι)ηєαρρℓє вα(η)αηα (g)υανα нανє α ƒяυιту ∂αу.. → нι,ησω ι αм ¢σмιηg тσ мєєт υ… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕυη ℓιgнт… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕωєєт вяєєzє… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ gσσ∂ ωιѕнєѕ… נυѕт тσ ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg… → ∂єαя ¢υѕтσмєя, уσυя яємαιηιηg ѕℓєєριηg тιмє нαѕ єχριяє∂. ѕσ ρℓєαѕє ℓєανє уσυя вє∂ αη∂ gєт υρ. αη∂ ѕαу т0 αℓℓ g00∂ м0яηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу !!! → ησ мαη ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ ιѕ яι¢н єησυgн тσ вυу нιѕ σωη ραѕт. єηנσу єα¢н мσмєηт вєƒσяє ιт gєтѕ вєуση∂ яєα¢н. нανє gσσ∂ ∂αу! → ωяαρ α яαιηвσω σƒ נσу ιη уσυ нєαят, ℓєт тнє ѕυη ραιηт α ѕмιℓє ση уσυя ƒα¢є, яємσνє αℓℓ ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ σƒ ∂συвт &αмρ; ƒєαя αη∂ яє¢єινє gσ∂’ѕ gιƒт σƒ ℓιƒє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → мσяηιηg ιѕ ησт σηℓу ѕυηяιѕє вυт α вєαυтιƒυℓ мιяα¢ℓє σƒ gσ∂ тнαт ∂єƒєαтѕ ∂αякηєѕѕ &αмρ; ѕρяєα∂ѕ ℓιgнт. мαу уσυ нανє α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу αℓωαуѕ..!! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → gσ∂ ωιℓℓ ησт gινє уσυ α вυя∂єη, уσυ ¢αη’т нαη∂ℓє. ѕσ, ιƒ уσυ ƒιη∂ уσυяѕєℓƒ ιη α мєѕѕ тнαт’ѕ ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ яєѕσℓνє, тαкє ¢нαℓℓєηgє αѕ α ¢σмρℓιмєηт. gσ∂ тнιηкѕ уσυ ¢αη ∂σ ιт! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ѕιℓєηт ιη мσυтн мαу ανσι∂ мαηу ρяσвℓємѕ.. вυт.. ѕмιℓє ιη мσυтн мαу ѕσℓνє αℓℓ тнє ρяσвℓємѕ.. ѕσ αℓωαуѕ нανє α ѕωєєт, ѕιℓєηт ѕмιℓє… ωιѕн уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αη∂ ηι¢є ∂αу. → ωнαтєνєя ιѕ вєαυтιƒυℓ, ωнαтєνєя ιѕ мєαηιηgƒυℓ, ωнαтєνєя gινєѕ уσυ нαρριηєѕѕ мαу αℓℓ тнαт вє уσυя тσ∂αу, тσмσяяσω &αмρ; ƒσяєνєя , gσö∂ мσяηιηg → αη ι∂єαℓ ∂αу ѕнσυℓ∂ вєgιη ωιтн α ¢υтє ℓιттℓє уαωη ση уσυя ƒα¢є, α ¢υρ σƒ ¢σƒƒєє ιη уσυя нαη∂ &αмρ; α ѕмѕ ƒяσм мє ση уσυя мσвιℓє?! нανє α gяєαт ∂αу! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ѕιмρℓє мυѕι¢ ¢αη мαкє уσυ ѕιηg, α ѕιмρℓє нυg ¢αη мαкє уσυ ƒєєℓ вєттєя, ѕιмρℓє тнιηgѕ ¢αη мαкє уσυ нαρρу. нσρє му ѕιмρℓє нι…!!! ωιℓℓ мαкє уσυ ѕмιℓє …gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ωιтн α gяєαт ℓιgнт σƒ ѕυη ωιтн тнє ѕσηgѕ σƒ вιя∂ѕ ωιтн тнє gяєαт αzααη σƒ мαѕנι∂ ωιтн тнє qυяααη ωιтн тнє нαρριηєѕѕ ωιтн α gяєαт ѕмιℓє αη∂ ωιтн тнє мσяηιηg ρяαуєя нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → мσяηιηg вєαυту ωιтн ¢σσℓ αη∂ ѕσƒт вяєєzє αяє яємιη∂єяѕ тнαт αℓℓαн ℓσνєѕ уσυ. ѕσ уσυ ѕнσυℓ∂ єηנσу тнє ∂αу αη∂ мαкє уσυ ∂αу α мємσяαвℓє αη∂ ℓσναвℓє ∂αу! “gσσ∂ мσяηιηg”:-* → ∂σηт яєα∂ ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ ѕтσяу яєα∂ σηℓу ƒαιℓυяє ѕтσяу, в’¢σz, ƒαιℓυяє ѕтσяу уσυ gєт ηєω ι∂єα тσ ωιη, ƒяσм ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ ѕтσяу уσυ gєт σηℓу мєѕѕαgє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ υ → ¢нєєяƒυℓ ρєσρℓє αяє ℓιкє ѕυηℓιgнт. тнєу ѕнιηє ιη тσ тнє ¢σяηєяѕ σƒ тнє нєαят &αмρ; σƒƒєя вяιgнт мσяηιηgѕ &αмρ; ƒяєѕн нσρєѕ. **gσσ∂ мσяηιηg** тσ σηє ѕυ¢н ρєяѕση… → нι тσ ѕωєєт ρєяѕση ωнσ ραѕѕє∂ ѕωєєт ηιgнт ωιтн α ѕωєєт ∂яєαм, ησω ωαηт тσ ραѕѕ ѕωєєт ∂αу ωιтн ѕωєєт тαℓк, нανє α ѕωєєт ∂αу, нανє α ѕωєєт мσяηιηg!!! → “тнє мιηυтє уσυ тнιηк σƒ gινιηg υρ αηу яєℓαтιση, тнιηк σƒ тнє яєαѕση ωну уσυ нєℓ∂ ιт ѕσ ℓσηg” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αη∂ нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ησω ѕυη ιѕ нαρρу αη∂ мσση ιѕ υρѕєт вє¢αυѕє мσση ιѕ мιѕѕιηg уσυ αη∂ ѕυη ιѕ ωιтн уσυ нανє α gяєαт αη∂ ℓσνєℓу ∂αу → нαρριηєѕѕ ιѕ ησт ѕσмєтнιηg υ ρσѕтρσηє 4 тнє ƒυтυяє. ιт’’ѕ ѕσмєтнιηg υ ∂єѕιgη 4 тнє ρяєѕєηт. мαкє єα¢н мσмєηт α нαρρу σηє. ι נυѕт ∂ι∂ ιт ву яємємвєяιηg υ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg &αмρ; нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → g-gєт υρ σ-σρєη уσυя єуєѕ σ-συт σƒ уσυя вє∂ ∂-∂αу нαѕ яιѕєη м-мєяяу ℓιƒє σ-σℓ∂ ∂яєαмѕ ¢σмє тяυє я-яιѕє αη∂ ѕнιηє η-ηєω ƒяιєη∂ѕ ι-ι∂єαѕ σƒ ℓιƒє η-ηι¢є ƒυтυяє g-gσσ∂∂αу 4 υ! → αη єχ¢єℓℓєηт ѕαуιηg “тнє ∂яєαм ιѕ ησт ωнαт уσυ ѕєє ιη ѕℓєєρ, ∂яєαм ιѕ тнє тнιηg ωнι¢н ∂σєѕ ησт ℓєт уσυ ѕℓєєρ.” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → мαηу ρєσρℓє яєαℓιzє тнєιя нєαят’ѕ ∂єѕιяєѕ ℓαтє ιη ℓιƒє ¢σηтιηυє ℓєαяηιηg ηєνєя ѕтσρ ѕтяινιηg &αмρ; кєєρ уσυя ¢υяισѕιту ѕнαяρ &αмρ; уσυ’ℓℓ ηєνєя вє¢σмє тσσ σℓ∂ тσ αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιƒє ~ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ~ → єνєяу ѕυηѕєт gινєѕ υѕ, σηє ∂αу ℓєѕѕ тσ ℓινє! вυт єνєяу ѕυηяιѕє gινє υѕ, σηє ∂αу мσяє тσ нσρє! ѕσ, нσρє ƒσя тнє вєѕт. gσσ∂ ∂αу &αмρ; gσσ∂ ℓυ¢к! Posted by Kiran Bele at 05:55

→ ι ℓσνє уσυ! ƒяσм тнє єαятн тιℓℓ тнє мσση! → ι нσρє тнαт уσυ ƒιηαℓℓу υη∂єяѕтαη∂, тнαт ι ωιℓℓ ℓσνє уσυ υηтιℓℓ тнє єη∂, вє¢αυѕє уσυя ησт נυѕт му gιяℓ, уσυ αяє αℓѕσ му вєѕт ƒяιєη∂! → ωнαт ιѕ α ƒℓσωєя ωιтнσυт тнє ѕυη, ωнαт ιѕ тнє єαятн ωιтнσυт тнє ѕку. ωнαт αм ι ωιтнσυт уσυ, тнαт ιѕ ωну ι тєℓℓ уσυ … ι ℓσνє уσυ → тσмσяяσω тнєяє ιѕ αη σтнєя ∂αу.α ∂αу ι\'∂ яαтнєя ѕρєη∂ ωιтн уσυ....ωιтнσυт уσυ тнєяє ιѕ ησ נσу, σηℓу ραιη! → σƒ αℓℓ тнє ƒяιєη∂ѕ ι\'νє єνєя мєт. уσυя тнє σηє ι ωση\'т ƒσяgєт.αη∂ ιƒ ι ∂ιє вєƒσяє уσυ ∂σ ι\'ℓℓ gσ тσ нєανєη αη∂ ωαιт ƒσя уσυ. → ωσя∂ѕ нσωєνєя ѕρє¢ιαℓ... ¢συℓ∂ ηєνєя єνєη ѕтαят, тσ тєℓℓ уσυ αℓℓ тнє ℓσνє ι нανє ƒσя уσυ ωιтнιη му нєαят. χχχ → ℓσνє ιѕ ƒσяєνєя, σηℓу тнє ραятηєяѕ ¢нαηgє... → ιƒ ι ωσυℓ∂ gєт α яσѕє ƒσя єνєяу тιмє ι тнιηк σƒ уσυ, ι ωσυℓ∂ ѕρєη∂ єνєяу ∂αу ιη α яσѕє gαя∂єη, ... тнιηкιηg σƒ уσυ → нσω ¢αη ιт вє тнαт ι αм ѕα∂ αη∂ нαρρу αт тнє ѕαмє тιмє ... ιт\'ѕ вє¢αυѕє ι кησω ... тнαт уσυ αяєη\'т вα¢к υηтιℓ тσмσяяσω → ι ℓσνє тωσ тнιηgѕ, α яσѕє αη∂ уσυ. α яσѕє ƒσя α ѕнσят ωнιℓє, вυт уσυ тнє яєѕт σƒ му ℓιƒє → ι ƒєєℓ ѕσмєтнιηg ιη му нєαят, ιт\'ѕ ℓιкє α ℓιттℓє ƒℓαмє, єνєяу тιмє ι ѕєє уσυ, тнιѕ ƒℓαмє ℓιgнтѕ υρ, тнιѕ ƒℓαмє ιѕ ѕρє¢ιαℓ ƒσя уσυ, вє¢αυѕє ι ℓσνє уσυ!.... → ℓσνє ιѕ....... тσ ℓσνє мσяє αη∂ мσяє єα¢н ∂αу.... → ℓσνє υη∂єя тнє ѕтαяѕ... тнєу ѕєєм νєяу ƒαя, вυт уσυ αяє ѕσ ¢ℓσѕє тнє ѕтαя ι ℓσνє тнє мσѕт → ℓσηєℓу? ησ, нσω ¢αη ι вє ℓσηєℓу ωнєη уσυ αяє αℓωαуѕ ιη му тнσυgнтѕ. ι ωαкє υρ ωιтн уσυ αη∂ gσ тσ ѕℓєєρ ωιтн уσυ. ι ℓσνє уσυ!! → кιѕѕ мє αη∂ уσυ ωιℓℓ ѕєє ѕтαяѕ ....ℓσνє мє αη∂ ι ωιℓℓ gινє тнєм тσ уσυ. → ι ωσυℓ∂ ℓσνє уσυ σηℓу ℓιттℓє ωнєη ι ωσυℓ∂ вє αвℓє тσ ѕαу нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ!... кιѕѕ → ℓιкє α яσѕє ηєє∂ѕ ωαтєя, ℓιкє α ѕєαѕση ηєє∂ѕ ¢нαηgє, ℓιкє α ρσєт ηєє∂ѕ α ρєη, ι ηєє∂ уσυ!! → тнє мσмєηт ι ƒιяѕт ѕαω уσυ, уσυ ωαямє∂ му нєαят, тнє ѕє¢ση∂ тιмє уσυ мα∂є ℓιттℓє ƒℓαмєѕ αη∂ ησω уσυ мαкє му нєαят вυяη ℓιкє нєℓℓ ! → ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє ιѕ ωнєη ѕнє ƒαℓℓѕ αѕℓєєρ ιη уσυя αямѕ αη∂ ωαкєѕ υρ ιη уσυя ∂яєαмѕ ! → ωнєη ∂αякηєѕѕ мσνєѕ ιη ση мє,ιт\'ѕ тнє ℓσνє σƒ ρєσρℓє ℓιкє уσυ тнαт αℓℓσωѕ мє тσ gσ тняσυgн ∂єƒєαт αη∂ ѕтιℓℓ кησω тσ вє ƒυℓℓу α¢¢єρтє∂. → тнєу ℓєαяηє∂ мє тнαт σηє нσυяѕ єqυαℓѕ 60 мιηυтєѕ αη∂ тнαт σηє мιηυтє єqυαℓѕ 60 ѕє¢ση∂ѕ, вυт тнєу ηєνєя тσℓ∂ мє тнαт σηє ѕє¢ση∂ ωιтнσυт уσυ ¢αη ℓαѕт ƒσя єνєя! → му ℓσνє, ωσя∂ѕ нσωєνєя ѕρє¢ιαℓ ... ¢συℓ∂ ηєνєя єνєη ѕтαят, тσ тєℓℓ уσυ αℓℓ тнє ℓσνє ι нανє ƒσя уσυ ωιтнιη му нєαят!!! → му єуєѕ ωєяє ѕєт ση уσυ...ιт ωαѕ ℓσνє αт ƒιяѕт ѕιgнт... → ιƒ тнє ωσяℓ∂ ωαѕ мα∂є σƒ ραρєя αη∂ тнє ѕєα σƒ ιηк, ι ωσυℓ∂ ωяιтє єνєяуωнєяє тнαт ι ℓιкє уσυ! → ƒαя αωαу ƒяσм нєяє, тσтαℓℓу ιηα¢¢єѕѕιвℓє. тнαт ιѕ ωнєяє уσυ αяє. нєяє ηєχт тσ мє, ωιтнιη яєα¢н. тнαт ιѕ ωнєяє уσυ αяє. ωнєяєєνєя уσυ gσ σя ωнєη, уσυ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє ηєαя мє. → ι ∂σ ησт тнιηк мυ¢н, ι ∂σ ησт тнιηк σƒтєη, вυт ωнєη ι тнιηк, ι тнιηк σƒ уσυ! → тнє ∂αу тнαт ι\'ℓℓ ∂ιє, ωнєη ∂єαтн яєρℓα¢єѕ вιятн, ι\'ℓℓ яє¢σgηιzє αηgєℓѕ\' ƒα¢єѕ, \'¢υѕ ι ℓινє ωιтн σηє ση єαятн.. → ℓσνιηg уσυ ¢συℓ∂ тαкє му ℓιƒє, вυт ωнєη ι ℓσσк ιηтσ уσυя єуєѕ, ι кησω уσυ\'яє ωσятн тнαт ѕα¢яαƒι¢є! → ιƒ уσυ ωєяє α тєαя ι ωσυℓ∂ ηєνєя ∂αяє тσ ¢яу. ι мιgнт ℓσѕє уσυ ! → нєανєη ιѕ тнє ρℓα¢є ωнєяє ι ωσυℓ∂ вє, тнє ∂αу уσυ ωσυℓ∂ ѕтσρ ℓσνιηg мє! → ιт мυѕт нανє вєєη α яαιηу ∂αу ωнєη уσυ ωєяє вσяη, вυт ιт ωαѕη\'т яєαℓℓу яαιη, тнє ѕку ωαѕ ¢яуιηg вє¢αυѕє ιт ℓσѕт нιѕ мσѕт вєαυтιƒυℓℓ αηgєℓ...! → ι мιѕѕ уσυ ... ι ηєє∂ уσυ ... мσяє αη∂ мσяє .... єα¢н ∂αу ... ι ℓσνє уσυ ... мσяє тнαη ωσя∂ѕ ... ¢αη єνєя ѕαу → ιƒ уσυя нєαят ωαѕ α ρяιѕση, ι ωσυℓ∂ ℓιкє тσ вє ѕєηтєη¢є∂ ƒσя ℓιƒє → ιƒ α вιg ƒαт мαη ¢яєєρѕ ιηтσ уσυя вє∂яσσм σηє ηιgнт αη∂ ѕтυƒƒѕ уσυ ιηтσ α вαg, тнєη ∂σ ησт ωσяяу \'¢αυѕє ι тσℓ∂ ѕαηтα ι ωαηтє∂ уσυ ƒσя ¢няιѕтмαѕ! → 3 ωσя∂ѕ мα∂є му нєαят вєαт ƒαѕтєя, 3 ωσя∂ѕ мα∂є му ℓєgѕ ѕнαкє 3 ωσя∂ѕ мα∂є му нєα∂ ѕριη, 3 ωσя∂ѕ: ι ℓσνє уσυ! → тσ тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ уσυ αяє ѕσмєвσ∂у....вυт тσ ѕσмєвσ∂у уσυ αяє тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ → ιƒ уσυ αяє мα∂ αт мє, уσυ мιgнт נυѕт αѕ ωєℓℓ gινє мє αℓℓ му кιѕѕєѕ вα¢к ! → тнє ωσяℓ∂ ιѕ ѕσ мσяє вєαυтιƒυℓ ωιтн уσυ αяσυη∂! → αℓℓ вєαυтιƒυℓ мσмєηтѕ ∂σ ησт ℓαѕт ℓσηg, єχ¢єρт ιη συя мємσяу.

→ ℓσνιηg υ ιѕ ησт נυѕт нανιηg α ¢υρ σƒ ¢σƒƒєє. ιт ѕтιℓℓ тαкєѕ мє тιмє тσ α∂∂ ιη ѕυgαя αη∂ мιℓк тσ мαкє ιт ѕωєєтєя αη∂ ρυяє... → ƒαтє нαѕ вяσυgнт υѕ тσgєтнєя, тσ мєєт, тσ кησω αη∂ тσ ραят ιѕ тнє ѕα∂∂єѕт тнιηg ιη ℓιƒє... ι £σνє уσυ... → ¢υяνє∂ нιgн ση α мσυηтαιη ¢σνєяє∂ ιη ∂єω... ι ѕαω тнєѕє 3 ωσя∂ѕ... ι ℓσνє уσυ! → ι мαу ѕєℓ∂σм тєℓℓ υ нσω ѕρє¢ιαℓ υ αяє, ι мαу ησт вє αвℓє тσ яєα¢н υ ¢σz ωє\'яє вσтн вυѕу, вυт ιηѕριтє σƒ αℓℓ, υ кησω υ αяє ѕσмєσηє ι яєαℓℓу мιѕѕ αη∂ ¢αяє αвσυт. → ℓσνιηg ιѕ ησт нσω υ ƒσяgєт вυт нσω υ ƒσяgινє, ησт нσω υ ℓιѕтєη вυт нσω υ υη∂єяѕтαη∂, ησт ωнαт υ ѕєє вυт нσω υ ƒєєℓ, αη∂ ησт нσω υ ℓєт gσ вυт нσω υ нσℓ∂ ση. → ѕмαк ... α мσвιℓє кιѕѕ... кєєρ уσυя мσвιℓє ¢ℓσѕє тσ уσυя єαя! → ℓσνє ιѕ ℓιкє ωαя ... єαѕу тσ ѕтαят ... ∂郃ι¢υℓт тσ єη∂ ... ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ ƒσяgєт... → ωнαт ι ƒєєℓ ƒσя уσυ,ιѕ яєαℓℓу тяυє. уσυ gσт тσ кησω,ι ηєє∂ уσυ ѕσ. ωнєη уσυ αяє gσηє,ι ¢αη\'т gσ ση. ¢αη\'т уσυ ѕєє, тнαт уσυ αяє тнє σηℓу σηє ƒσя мє? → ιƒ ι нα∂ α ρєηηу ƒσя єνєяутιмє ι тнσυgнт σƒ уσυ, ι\'∂ ѕтιℓℓ мιѕѕ уσυ, вυт αт ℓєαѕт ι ωσυℓ∂ вє яι¢н єησυgн тσ ¢σмє αη∂ ѕєє уσυ..!! → ι мιѕѕ уσυ ѕσ, нєяє αяσυη∂ мє, ѕσ мαηу ρєσρℓє, вυт уєт ѕσ αℓσηє. ι мιѕѕ уσυя ℓιρѕ, уσυя ℓσνєℓу ѕмιℓє, ι мιѕѕ уσυ єα¢н ∂αу мσяє αη∂ мσяє! → ιƒ ι ∂ιє αη∂ gσ тσ нєανєη, ι\'ℓℓ ρυт уσυя ηαмє ση α gσℓ∂єη ѕтαя. ѕσ тнαт αℓℓ тнє αηgєℓѕ ¢αη ѕєє, нσω мυ¢н уσυ мєαη тσ мє. → єνєяу мєѕѕαgє ιѕ α ѕмιℓє ... єνєяу ωσя∂ ιѕ ℓιкє α кιѕѕ вυт ωнєη уσυ тσυ¢н мє ...яємємвєя тнιѕ ... му ℓιƒє ιѕ ƒυℓℓ ωιтн нαρριηєѕѕ → ву ƒσℓℓσωιηg му нєαят ι ¢αмє тσ уσυ, ι σηℓу ƒσяgσт тσ тαкє ѕσмєтнιηg вα¢к ωιтн мє. ƒσя му тнσυgнтѕ αяє ѕтιℓℓ ωιтн уσυ. → тнє ι∂єαℓ нυѕвαη∂ ιѕ тнє σηє ωнσ υη∂єяѕтαη∂ѕ ωнαт нιѕ ωιƒє ∂ι∂ ησт ѕαу. → ℓσνє ιѕ нαя∂ αη∂ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє, вυт яємємвєя ѕσмєвσ∂у ℓσνєѕ уσυ αη∂ тнαт σηє ιѕ мє ! → ιƒ тнє ρєσρℓє ωє ℓσνє αяє ѕтσℓєη αωαу ƒяσм υѕ тнє σηℓу ωαу тσ нανє тнєм ℓινє ση ιѕ тσ ηєνєя ѕтσρ ℓσνιη\'тнєм. вυιℓ∂ιηgѕ вυяη, ρєσρℓє ∂ιє, вυт яєαℓ ℓσνє ιѕ ƒσяєνєя... → ωιтнσυт ℓσνє ι ¢αηησт ℓινє, уσυ αяє ℓσνє ѕσ ι ¢αηησт ℓινє ωιтнσυт уσυ!!! → ℓσνє ιѕ ѕσмєтнιηg вєαυтιƒυℓ,α ∂єѕιяє, α ƒєєℓιηg тнαт σηє ωσυℓ∂ ℓιкє тσ ¢αт¢н. ℓσνє ιѕ тнє ƒєєℓιηg тнαт мαкєѕ уσυ ƒєєℓ αℓινє. ℓσνє ιѕ ѕσмєтнιηg тнαт мαу ηєνєя gσ αωαу! → ι ωαηтє∂ тσ ѕєη∂ уσυ αℓℓ му ℓσνє вυт тнє ρσѕтмαη ѕαι∂ ιт ωαѕ тσσ вιg !!!!! → яσѕєѕ σƒ яє∂ gяσω ιη му нєαят αη∂ тнєу ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ωιтнєя... \'¢αυѕє тнєу вℓσσм єνєяу тιмє ι ѕєє уσυя ѕмιℓє, нєαя уσυя νσι¢є σя נυѕт тнιηк σƒ уσυ! → ιƒ уσυ ℓινє тσ вє α нυη∂яє∂ , ι ωαηт тσ вє α нυη∂яє∂ мιηυѕ σηє ∂αу , ѕσ ι ∂ση\'т нανє тσ ℓινє α ∂αу ωιтнσυт уσυ... → уσυ кησω ωнαт, ιη тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ тнєяє ιѕ ησ ѕυ¢н ∂αяℓιηg ωнσм ι ℓσνє αη∂ ι ωαηт тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ тσ кησω тнαт ι ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ƒσяgєт уσυ! → ιƒ ι ∂ιє αη∂ gσ тσ нєανєη, ι ρυт уσυя ηαмє ση α gσℓ∂єη ѕтαя. ѕσ тнαт αℓℓ тнє αηgєℓѕ ¢αη ѕєє нσω мυ¢н уσυ мєαη тσ мє !! ι ℓσνє уσυ → ι ¢αηησт яєѕιѕт тнє тєαяѕ σƒ α ωσмαη, тнαт ιѕ ωну ι ωσυℓ∂ ∂σ αηутнιηg ƒσя уσυ → уσυ αяє αℓωαуѕ ιη му нєαят, нєяє αη∂ єνєяуωнєяє, тнєяє ιѕ ησ σηє ιη тнє ωнσℓє ωσяℓ∂ тнαт мαкєѕ мє ƒєєℓ тнιѕ ωαу. → тнαт ι ℓσνє уσυ ιѕ ησ ωση∂єя. вυт тнє ƒα¢т тнαт уσυ ¢αяє αвσυт мє, тнαт ιѕ νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ. → ωσмєη α∂мιяє α мαη вє¢αυѕє нє ιѕ ѕтяσηg , вυт тнєу ℓσνє нιм ƒσя нιѕ ωєαкηєѕѕєѕ. → тнєяє αяє α ℓσт σƒ вιя∂ѕ ωιѕρєяιηg σηℓу αвσυт уσυ, уσυ ѕнσυℓ∂ ση¢є ℓιѕтєη тσ тнєм, тнєη уσυ ωσυℓ∂ кησω нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ. → тнєяє ωєяє тιмєѕ уσυ мαкє мє ¢яу... ℓσσкιηg 4 α яєαѕση ωну... тнєяє ωєяє тιмєѕ уσυ мαкє мє ƒℓу...ѕтαу ωιтн мє υηтιℓ ι ∂ιє...ѕтαу ωιтн мє.. → ι ℓσνє уσυ ησт вє¢αυѕє σƒ ωнσ уσυ αяє, вυт вє¢αυѕє σƒ ωнσ ι αм ωнєη ι αм ωιтн уσυ. → ησ мαη σя ωσмαη ιѕ ωσятн уσυя тєαяѕ, αη∂ тнє σηє ωнσ ιѕ, ωση\'т мαкє уσυ ¢яу. → נυѕт вє¢αυѕє ѕσмєσηє ∂σєѕη\'т ℓσνє уσυ тнє ωαу уσυ ωαηт тнєм тσ, ∂σєѕη\'т мєαη тнєу ∂ση\'т ℓσνє уσυ ωιтн αℓℓ тнєу нανє. → тσ тнє ωσяℓ∂ уσυ мαу вє σηє ρєяѕση, вυт тσ σηє ρєяѕση уσυ мαу вє тнє ωσяℓ∂. → мαувє gσ∂ ωαηтѕ υѕ тσ мєєт α ƒєω ωяσηg ρєσρℓє вєƒσяє мєєтιηg тнє яιgнт σηє, ѕσ тнαт ωнєη ωє ƒιηαℓℓу мєєт тнє ρєяѕση, ωє ωιℓℓ кησω нσω тσ вє gяαтєƒυℓ. → ∂ση\'т ¢яу вє¢αυѕє ιт ιѕ σνєя, ѕмιℓє вє¢αυѕє ιт нαρρєηє∂. → мαкє уσυяѕєℓƒ α вєттєя ρєяѕση αη∂ кησω ωнσ уσυ αяє вєƒσяє уσυ тяу αη∂ кησω ѕσмєσηє єℓѕє αη∂ єχρє¢т тнєм тσ кησω уσυ. → α тяυє ƒяιєη∂ ιѕ ѕσмєσηє ωнσ яєα¢нєѕ ƒσя уσυя нαη∂ αη∂ тσυ¢нєѕ уσυя нєαят. → тнє ωσяѕт ωαу тσ мιѕѕ ѕσмєσηє ιѕ тσ вє ѕιттιηg яιgнт вєѕι∂є тнєм кησωιηg уσυ ¢αη\'т нανє тнєм. → ηєνєя ƒяσωη, єνєη ωнєη уσυ αяє ѕα∂, вє¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнσ ιѕ ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє ωιтн уσυя ѕмιℓє. → тσ тнє ωσяℓ∂ уσυ мαу вє σηє ρєяѕση, вυт тσ σηє ρєяѕση уσυ мαу вє тнє ωσяℓ∂. → ∂ση\'т ωαѕтє уσυя тιмє ση α мαη/ωσмαη, ωнσ ιѕη\'т ωιℓℓιηg тσ ωαѕтє тнєιя тιмє ση уσυ. → тнєяє\'ѕ αℓωαуѕ gσιηg тσ вє ρєσρℓє тнαт нυят уσυ ѕσ ωнαт уσυ нανє тσ ∂σ ιѕ кєєρ ση тяυѕтιηg αη∂ נυѕт вє мσяє ¢αяєƒυℓ αвσυт ωнσ уσυ тяυѕт ηєχт тιмє αяσυη∂. → ∂ση\'т тяу ѕσ нαя∂, тнє вєѕт тнιηgѕ ¢σмє ωнєη уσυ ℓєαѕт єχρє¢т тнєм тσ.

→ тнє ωσяℓ∂ ιѕ ѕσ мσяє вєαυтιƒυℓ ωιтн уσυ αяσυη∂! → αℓℓ вєαυтιƒυℓ мσмєηтѕ ∂σ ησт ℓαѕт ℓσηg, єχ¢єρт ιη συя мємσяу. → α кιѕѕ тнαт тєℓℓѕ ιт αℓℓ ιѕ ѕєℓ∂σмℓу α ƒιяѕт є∂ιтιση. → вєιηg ιη ℓσνє ιѕ ωнєη ѕнє ℓσσкѕ αт уσυ αη∂ ѕαуѕ: ι ωσυℓ∂ ℓιкє тσ вє α ¢αηηιвαℓ. → яєαℓ ℓσνє ιѕ тнє нιѕтσяу σƒ єησямσυѕ ραтιєη¢є. → ℓσνє ѕтσρѕ вєιηg α נσу ωнєη ιт ѕтσρѕ вєιηg α ѕє¢яєт. (\\_/) (=.=) (\&qυσт;)(\&qυσт;) → α ѕωєєт ℓιттℓє яαввιт, נυѕт ℓιкє уσυ, вє¢αυѕє ι ℓσνє уσυ!! кιѕѕєѕ... → gяσω σℓ∂ ωιтн мє! ...... тнє вєѕт ιѕ уєт тσ ¢σмє... → тнє нαя∂єѕ∂ тнιηg ιη ℓιƒє ιѕ ωαт¢нιηg ѕσмєσηє уσυ ℓσνє , ℓσνιηg ѕσмєσηє єℓѕє → тєαяѕ ιη му єуєѕ ......... тєαяѕ ƒσя уσυ ...... тєαяѕ тнαт яєαℓιѕє нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ → яσѕєѕ αяє яє∂ αη∂ тнє ѕку ιѕ вℓυє ........ αη∂ ι ℓσνє уσυ → ρυѕн ∂σωη ιƒ уσυ мιѕѕ мє... тнαт ιѕ ѕωєєт σƒ уσυ ...... νєяу ѕωєєт ιη∂єє∂ .... уσυ ¢αη ѕтσρ ησω ..... уσυ яєαℓℓу мιѕѕ мє, нé :-) .... мє тσσ χχχ → ιη тнє мσяηιηg ι ∂σ ησт єαт вє¢αυѕє ι тнιηк σƒ уσυ, αт ησση ι ∂σ ησт єαт вє¢αυѕє ι тнιηк σƒ уσυ, ιη тнє єνєηιηg ι ∂σ ησт єαт вє¢αυѕє ι тнιηк σƒ уσυ, αт ηιgнт ι ∂σ ησт ѕℓєєρ вє¢αυѕє ι αм нυηgяу. → ℓσνє ιѕ αѕ α ωαя, єαѕу тσ ѕтαят вυт нαя∂ тσ єη∂.. → ωнєη ι тнιηк, ι тнιηк σƒ уσυ, ωнєη ι ℓσσк, ι ωαηт тσ ℓσσк αт уσυ. ι αм ¢яαzу αвσυт уσυ, єνєη ιƒ ιт ѕєємѕ тσ вє¢σмє αη σвѕєѕѕιση → ι ωσυℓ∂ ℓιкє тσ вє α тєαя, вσяη ιη уσυя єуєѕ, αℓινє ραѕѕιηg уσυя ¢нєєкѕ αη∂ ∂ιєιηg ση уσυя ℓιρѕ. → ιƒ α яαιη∂яσρ ωσυℓ∂ мєαη ... ι ℓσνє уσυ αη∂ уσυ ωσυℓ∂ αѕк мє нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ, ι вєт уσυ тнαт ιт ωσυℓ∂ …. яαιη αℓℓ ∂αу ! → тнєу ѕαу тнαт кι∂ѕ тєℓℓ тнє тяυтн, вυт αм ι α ¢нιℓ∂ тσσ ωнєη ι тєℓℓ уσυ тнαт ι ℓσνє уσυ єησямσυѕℓу ? → уєѕтєя∂αу ι ∂ι∂ ℓσνє уσυ, тσмσяяσω ι ωιℓℓ σηℓу тнιηк σƒ уσυ. уσυ кησω ωнαηт... ι ℓσνє уσυ! → ρєσρℓє αяє ¢нιℓ∂яєη............ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓσνє...........αη∂ уσυ αяє ѕυηѕнιηє. → -&ℓт;-@ α яσѕє ƒσя уσυ вє¢αυѕє ι ℓσνє уσυ → ∂ση\'т ℓσνє 1, ∂ση\'т ℓσνє 2, вυт ℓσνє тнє 1 ωнσ ℓσνєѕ уσυ → ωнєяє ωєяє уσυ вєƒσяє уσυ ¢αмє ¢αмριηg ιη му нєαят??? уσυ ѕтαятє∂ α ƒιяє αη∂ ησω му нєαят ιѕ ƒιℓℓє∂ ωιтн ƒℓαмєѕ !!! → ι ℓσνє уσυ ѕσ мυ¢н ! → ℓσνιηg αη∂ вєιηg ℓσνє∂ ιѕ ƒєєℓιηg тнє ѕυη ѕнιηє αт вσтн ѕι∂єѕ. → ℓσνє ιѕ ... вєιηg мαяяιє∂ тσ уσυя вєѕт ƒяιєη∂. → ι ℓσνє уσυ єνєη мσяє тнαη ωнєη ι ѕтαятє∂ тнιѕ ѕєηтєη¢є. → уσυ αℓωαуѕ ѕмιℓє, уσυ ηєνєя ѕαу ησ, уσυ ηєνєя нυят мє, му ∂єαя ѕωєєт тє∂∂увєαя! → тнє ωσя∂ѕ αяє єαѕу ωнєη тнє ℓαηgυαgє ιѕ ℓσνє ! → ι ℓσνє уσυ ησт вє¢αυѕє σƒ ωнσ уσυ αяє, вυт вє¢αυѕє σƒ ωнσ ι αм ωнєη ι αм ωιтн уσυ. → ιт тαкєѕ α мιηυтє тσ нανє α ¢яυѕн, αη нσυя тσ ℓιкє ѕσмєσηє, αη∂ α ∂αу тσ ℓσνє ѕσмєσηє, вυт ιт тαкєѕ α ℓιƒєтιмє тσ ƒσяgєт ѕσмєσηє. → тσ ℓσνє уσυ ιѕ тσ яє¢єινє α gℓιмρѕє σƒ нєανєη. → ησтнιηg тαкєѕ тнє тαѕтє συт σƒ ρєαηυт вυттєя qυιтє ℓιкє уσυя υηяєqυιтє∂ ℓσνє. → ι αρρяє¢ιαтє αℓℓ тнє тнιηgѕ уσυ ∂σ, αη∂ тнє ωαу уσυ ѕнσω уσυ ¢αяє. → ωнєη gσ∂ gανє уσυ тσ мє, нє ρℓαηтє∂ тнє ιмαgє σƒ уσυ ∂єєρ ιη му нєαят. → ωнєη уσυ ℓєƒт, му ωσяℓ∂ тυяηє∂ υρѕι∂є ∂σωη → ι ℓσνє уσυ мσяє тнαη αℓℓ тнє тєα ιη ¢нιηα. → ι\'ℓℓ ℓσνє уσυ тιℓℓ тнє єη∂! αη∂ тнєη ѕσмє. → ιƒ ℓσνє ωєяє α мσνιє, уσυ\'∂ вє α ¢σмιηg αттяα¢тιση. → ιƒ ℓσνє ωєяє тσ вє тαχє∂, ι ωσυℓ∂ вє тнє нιgнєѕт тαχ ραуєя. → тнє мσѕт ιмρσятαηт тнιηgѕ ιη му ωσяℓ∂ αяє тσ gєт ƒσσ∂, ∂яιηк αη∂ тσ ℓσνє уσυ. → α ∂αу ωιтнσυт уσυя ℓσνє ιѕ α ∂αу ωιтнσυт ℓιƒє. → ι ¢αη\'т тнιηк σƒ αηутнιηg вυт уσυ. → ι ∂ση\'т кησω нσω ι ¢συℓ∂ нανє ∂σηє тнαт тнιηg, ωнєη ι ℓσνє уσυ ℓιкє ℓιƒє ιтѕєℓƒ. ρℓєαѕє ƒσяgινє мє. → уσυ\'яє тнє вєѕт тнιηg ѕιη¢є gσ∂ мα∂є мєη. → уσυ\'яє тнє вєѕт тнιηg ѕιη¢є gσ∂ мα∂є ωσмєη. → уσυ αяє му ƒяιєη∂, му ℓσνє, му ƒσяєνєя ναℓєηтιηє. → тнє σηℓу ℓσνє ωσятну σƒ α ηαмє ιѕ υη¢ση∂ιтισηαℓ. → уσυ мαηу мєєт ρєσρℓє вєттєя тнαη мє, ƒυηηιєя тнαη мє, мσяє нιℓαяισυѕ тнαη мє, вυт σηє тнιηg ι ¢αη ѕαу тσ уσυ, ι ωιℓℓ \'αℓωαуѕ\' вє тнєяє ωнєη тнєу αℓℓ ℓєανє уσυ! → ιт мαу ѕσυη∂ ѕιмρℓє, ησтнιηg υηιqυє σя σяιgιηαℓ... вυт уєт ιт мєαηѕ ѕσ мυ¢н αη∂ тαкє ¢συяαgє тσ ѕαу. ι ωαηηα тєℓℓ уσυ \'ι мιѕѕ уσυ αℓσт!\' → ωнєη α ∂σσя σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ ¢ℓσѕєѕ. αησтнєя σρєηѕ. вυт ѕσ σƒтєη αт тιмєѕ ωє ℓσσк ѕσ ℓσηg αт ∂α ¢ℓσѕє∂ ∂σσя.. тнαт ωє ∂σ ησт ѕєє тнє 1 ωнι¢н нαѕ вєєη σρєηιηg αт υѕ → тяυє ℓυν ιѕ єтєяηαℓ... ¢нєяιѕн ∂α ℓυν ωнєη υ\'νє gσт тнє ¢нαη¢є, ƒσя ση¢є ιт ℓєανєѕ υ, ιт ωσυℓ∂ в ∂郃ι¢υℓт 2 gєт ιт вα¢к.. ∂ση\'т ℓєт ℓυν вє σηℓу α мємσяу ιη υ.. → 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\'ℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє ѕρє¢ιαℓ тσ мє. → ѕσмє∂αу уσυ\'ℓℓ 4gєт αвт мє, ...му ηαмє, ...му νσι¢є, ωнσ ι αм &αмρ; ωнσ ι αм 2 уσυ... вυт єνєη ιƒ уσυ 4gєт αвт мє, ι נυѕт ωαη υ тσ кησω... ι\'ℓℓ ηєνєя 4gєт уσυ... → нєαятѕ ¢συℓ∂ σηℓу ℓσνє ƒσя α ωнιℓє, ƒєєтѕ ¢συℓ∂ σηℓу ωαℓк ƒσя ѕσмє мιℓєѕ, ¢ℓσтнєѕ ωση\'т 4єνєя вє ιη ѕтуℓє, вυт нανιηg υ αѕ му \'ℓσνєя\' ιѕ 4єνєя ωσятнωнιℓє.... → ℓσνє, кησωѕ ησ яєαѕση, кησωѕ ησ тιмє, ιт нαѕ α ѕσℓє ιηтєηтιση σƒ вяιηgιηg ρєσρℓє тσgєтнєя тσ α тιмє, ¢αℓℓє∂ - ƒ σ я є ν є я... → 1 мιη, 1 ня, 1 ∂αу, 1 ωк, 1 мтн, 1 уя, ησ мαттєя нσω ℓσηg, ι\'ℓℓ тяєαѕυяє тнє тιмєѕ ωє\'νє ѕρєηт тσgєтнєя! → ѕσ мαηу qυєѕтισηѕ, вυт тнє αηѕωєяѕ αяє ѕσ ƒєω, αℓℓ ι яєαℓℓу кησω, ιѕ, ι мιѕѕ уσυ !

→ тнєяє αяє тнσυѕαη∂ѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ ση тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂, єνєη ιƒ ι gανє уσυ єνєяу яσѕє тσ уσυ, тнαт ωσυℓ∂ ησт вє єησυgн тσ тєℓℓ уσυ нσω мυ¢н ι ℓσνє уσυ! → ωнєη тнє ηιgнт ¢σмєѕ, ℓσσк αт тнє ѕку. ιƒ уσυ ѕєє α ƒαℓℓιηg ѕтαя, ∂ση\'т ωση∂єя ωну, נυѕт мαкє α ωιѕн. тяυѕт мє, ιт ωιℓℓ ¢σмє тяυє, \'¢αυѕє ι ∂ι∂ ιт αη∂ ι ƒσυη∂ уσυ! → ωнєη α нєαят ιѕ тнє ѕιgη σƒ ℓσνє ,αη∂ яє∂ тнє ¢σℓσυя ...αη∂ ωнєη ωαℓкιηg αяσυη∂ ωιтн уσυя нєα∂ ιη тнє ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ мєαηѕ тнαт σηє ιѕ ιη ℓσνє..ωну ∂σ ι ∂яαω α ℓιηє ιη вℓυє αη∂ αм ι σηℓу тнιηкιηg σƒ уσυ ? → тнє ѕку ιѕ ƒυℓℓ σƒ gσℓ∂єη ѕтαяѕ ѕнιηιηg ιη тнє ℓιgнт σƒ тнє мσση, вυт тнє мσѕт вєαυтιƒυℓ ℓιgнт ι ѕєє ιѕ ιη уσυя єуєѕ ... → тнє яσѕє ѕρєαкѕ σƒ ℓσνє ѕιℓєηтℓу ιη α ℓαηgυαgє кησωη σηℓу тσ тнє нєαят. → ιη ∂яєαмѕ αη∂ ιη ℓσνє тнєяє αяє ησ ιмρσѕѕιвιℓιтιєѕ. → ωнαт нσℓ∂ѕ уσυ тσgєтнєя ιѕ ƒαя gяєαтєя тнαη ωнαт ¢αη тєαя уσυ αραят. → α ∂яєαм ¢σѕтѕ ησтнιηg υηℓєѕѕ уσυ ωαηт ιт тσ ¢σмє тяυє → α вυттєяƒℓу ηєє∂ѕ ιтѕ ωιηgѕ ... αη ι¢євєαя ηєє∂ѕ ¢σℓ∂ ωєαтнєя αη∂ ι ... ι ηєє∂ уσυ! → ℓσνє... ι ωαηт тσ нσℓ∂ уσυ ¢ℓσѕє тσ мє αη∂ ƒєєℓ συя нєαятѕ вєαт αѕ σηє … ƒσяєνєя .... → ι ℓσνє уσυ! ƒяσм тнє єαятн тιℓℓ тнє мσση!

→ яємємвєя тнαт уσυ αяє υηιqυє... נυѕт ℓιкє єνєяувσ∂у єℓѕє! → ι ηєνєя ƒσяgєт α ƒα¢є, вυт ƒσя уσυ ι ωιℓℓ мαкє αη єχ¢єρтιση. → ησѕтαℓgια ιѕ ησт ωнαт ιт υѕє∂ тσ вє. → ѕρєαкιηg ιтαℓιαη ιѕ нαя∂, вυт ι єαт αη∂ ∂яιηк ιт ωιтнσυт ∂郃ι¢υℓтιєѕ! → тнσѕє ωнσ тнιηк тнαт тнιηgѕ нαρρєη тσσ ƒαѕт αяє єχρє¢тє∂ ιη α вαηк σя α ρσѕт σƒƒι¢є! → мαкє уσυя ℓιƒє α нσυѕє уσυя нєαят ¢αη ℓινє ιη. ωιтн α ∂σσя тнαт ιѕ σρєη тσ яє¢єινє ƒяιєη∂ѕ. αη∂ α gαя∂єη ƒυℓℓ σƒ мємσяιєѕ … σƒ мαηу gσσ∂ тнιηgѕ. → уσυ ¢αηησт вυу ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ, уσυ ¢αη єαяη ιт. ιƒ ѕσмєσηє ¢σмєѕ ƒσя нєℓρ, вє α тяυє ƒяιєη∂ ! → α ƒяιєη∂ ιѕ αℓωαуѕ ωєℓ¢σмє ... єαяℓу ιη тнє мσяηιηg σя ℓαтє αт ηιgнт. тιмє ιѕ σƒ ησ ιмρσятαη¢є ... ωнєη ιт ¢ση¢єяηѕ яєαℓ ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ!! → ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ ιѕ α ωση∂єяƒυℓ ωσя∂, ιт мιgнт вє тє мσѕт вєαυтιƒυℓ σηє ση єαятн. ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ ιѕ ѕσмєтнιηg ρσωєяƒυℓ, α gιƒт σƒ gяєαт ναℓυє! → ησ gσℓ∂ σя ρяє¢ισυѕ ѕтσηєѕ ... gινє υѕ нαρριηєѕѕ αη∂ ρєα¢є, ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ αη∂ ιтѕ ωαямтн ... ωιℓℓ вяιηg ιт тσ υѕ → тнєяє ιѕ α вιg ∂郃єяєη¢є вєтωєєη ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ αη∂ α яσѕє... яσѕєѕ ℓαѕт σηℓу α ωнιℓє ... вυт ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρ ιѕ ƒσя єνєя → ι αѕкє∂ gσ∂ 4 α ƒℓσωєя, нє gανє мє α gαя∂єη. αѕкє∂ 4 α тяєє, нє gανє мє α ƒσяєѕт. αѕкє∂ 4 α яινєя, нє gανє мє αη σ¢єαη. αѕкє∂ 4 α ƒяιєη∂, нє gανє мє уσυ → ƒяιєη∂ѕ αяє ℓιкє ѕтαяѕ... уσυ ∂ση\'т ѕєє тнєм αℓℓ тнє тιмє, вυт уσυ кησω тнєу\'яє тнєяє! → ℓιƒє ιѕ ησт єαѕу αη∂ ιт ωιℓℓ ηєνєя вє, вυт уσυ\'νє gσт ƒяιєη∂ѕ αη∂ σηє σƒ тнєм ιѕ мє ... → ι мυѕт нανє вєєη вσяη υη∂єя α ℓυ¢ку ѕтαя , тσ ƒιη∂ α ƒяιєη∂ αѕ ηι¢є αѕ уσυ αяє. ι ωιℓℓ ƒσℓℓσω тнє яαιηвσω тσ тнє єη∂ , ιƒ уσυ ρяσмιѕє тσ яємαιη му ƒяιєη∂ !!! → υ мυz вє тιяє∂ ¢σz υ нαƒ вєєη яυηηιηg тняυ му мιη∂, υ gσттα вє α тнιєƒ ¢σz υ нαƒ ѕтσℓєη му нєαят η ι мυz нαƒ вєєη α вα∂ ѕнσσтєя ¢σz ι кєєρ мιѕѕιηg υ... → ƒαтє вяσυgнт тнє вσтн σƒ υѕ тσgєтнєя. ѕσ ηαтυяαℓℓу ωнєη уσυ ℓσσк αт υѕ, уσυ ωιℓℓ тнιηк ωє мαт¢н єα¢н σтнєя. ¢σz ωє αяє мαкє тσ вє ƒσя єα¢н σтнєя. → ιƒ ℓσνє ιѕ ωαтєя, ι\'ℓℓ gινє υ тнє σ¢єαη. ιƒ кιѕѕєѕ αяє ѕρα¢єѕ, ι\'ℓℓ gινє υ тнє υηινєяѕє... ιƒ нєαт ωαѕ уσυя ℓσνє &αмρ; ¢αяє, нσω ι ωιѕн тнє ѕυη ωαѕ вєѕι∂є мє... → ιтz вєттєя тнιѕ ωαу υ ѕαу 2 в σя ησт 2 в. ιѕ υρ 2 υ тσ ѕαу, υ я ƒяєє тσ ¢нσσѕє, вυт ι\'м αƒяαι∂ тσ ℓσѕє... вυт ησ мαттєя ωнєη.. ησ мαтєя ωнєяє... ι ℓσνє υ... → тнє ѕρα¢єѕ вєтωєєη υя ƒιηgєяѕ ωєяє ¢яєαтє∂ ѕσ тнαт αησтнєя ρєяѕση\'ѕ ƒιηgєяѕ ωσυℓ∂ ƒιℓℓ тнєм ιη. нσρє υ ƒσυη∂ тнє нαη∂ тнαт υ я мєαηт 2 нσℓ∂ ση 4єνєя.. → ιт ∂σѕ ηт нυят мє ѕєєιηg уσυ ιη ℓυν ω∂ ѕυм1 єℓѕє, ησт ωєη ι ¢ υ ѕσ нαρι ω∂ нєя η ηт ωєη υ ∂ηт ѕαу нι 2 мє. ιт нυятѕ мє кηωιηg ∂αт ι ѕнυ∂\'νє вєєη ιη нєя ρℓα¢є. → т\'ѕ α ℓυνℓу ƒєєℓιηg 2 ѕтαη∂ ση ∂ тσρ σƒ α нιℓℓ &αмρ; ƒєєℓ ση υя ƒα¢є ∂ тσυ¢н σƒ ∂ ¢σσℓ ѕσƒт ωιη∂, нє ѕαмє ιѕ ∂ ƒєєℓιηg ωєηєνя ι нєαя υя νσι¢є &αмρ; ¢ υя ѕмуℓ. → тнєяє ωσυℓ∂ ¢σмє α тιмє ωнєη ωє нανє тσ ѕтσρ ℓσνιηg ѕσмєσηє ησт вє¢αυѕє тнαт ρєяѕση нαѕ ѕтαятє∂ нαтιηg υѕ вυт вє¢αυѕє ωє ƒσυη∂ συт тнαт тнєу\'∂ вє нαρριєя ιƒ ωє ℓєт тнєм gσ. → ∂αуѕ ωιℓ в ѕρηт ℓук уιяѕ ƒ ∂σѕ ∂αуѕ ωιℓ в ѕρηт ω/συт υ, ѕмιℓєѕ я ℓук ƒяωη ƒ ιтѕ ηт мєηт 4 υ, вυт 4єνєя ωιℓ ѕσυη∂ gяє8т ƒ υ ρяσмιѕє 4єνєя тσ мє! → ƒут 4υя ℓσνє, ∂αтѕ σℓ ∂єу ѕαу.ℓєт нєя кησω &αмρ; ∂ση\'т ℓєт нєя gσ, ѕσ ωнαт ∂єу тнιηк σƒ. ιт ωυ∂ ωσяк συт ιѕ ∂єу вєℓιν ιη. ѕєт υя нαят ƒяєє, ιтѕ ωαт тнєу ѕєє. вυт нσω ¢αη ι......ωєη 4υ ιтѕ ηєνєя мє?!!! → єνєяуσηє ωαηтѕ 2 вє тнє ѕυη ∂αт ℓιgнтѕ υρ уσυя ℓуƒ.вυт ι\'∂ яαтнєя вє υя мσση,ѕσ ι ¢αη ѕнιηє ση υ ∂υяιηg υя ∂αякєѕт нσυя ωнєη υя ѕυη ιѕη\'т αяσυη∂. → ℓυν ησт σηє, ℓυν ησт тωσ ℓυν ∂ σηє ωнσ ℓυνѕ υ тяυє ℓυν ησт тняєє, ℓυν ησт ƒσυя ℓυν ∂ σηє ωнσ ℓυνѕ υ мσяє ℓυν ησт ƒινє, ℓυν ησт ѕιχ ℓυν ∂ σηє ωнσ яєαℓℓу ѕтι¢кѕ ℓυν ησт ѕєνєη, ℓυν ησт єιgнт ℓυν ∂ ηє ωнσ яєαℓℓу ωαιтѕ... → ιƒ ι нα∂ тнє ℓєттєя \&qυσт;нят\&qυσт;, ι ¢αη α∂∂ \&qυσт;єα\&qυσт; тσ gєт нєαят σя α \&qυσт;υ\&qυσт; αη∂ gєт \&qυσт;нυят\&qυσт;. вυт ι∂ яαтнєя ¢нσσѕє \&qυσт;υ\&qυσт; αη∂ gєт \&qυσт;нυят\&qυσт; тнαη тσ нανє α \&qυσт;нєαят\&qυσт; ωιтнσυт \&qυσт;υ\&qυσт;. → тнєяє ωσυℓ∂ ¢σмє α тιмє ωнєη ωє нανє тσ ѕтσρ ℓσνιηg ѕσмєσηє ησт вє¢αυѕє тнαт ρєяѕση нαѕ ѕтαятє∂ нαтιηg υѕ вυт вє¢αυѕє ωє ƒσυη∂ συт тнαт тнєу\'∂ вє нαρριєя ιƒ ωє ℓєт тнαм gσ. → ι ωσυℓ∂ gινє υρ нαρριηєѕ тσ ηєνєя ѕєє уσυ ѕα∂, ι ωσυℓ∂ gινє υρ єтєяηιту тσ вє ωιтн уσυ αℓωαуѕ, ι ωσυℓ∂ gινє υρ му ℓιƒє ѕσ тнαт уσυяѕ ωσυℓ∂ вє ηєω... ι\'∂ gινє υρ єνєяутнιηg... єχ¢єρт уσυ... → тнє ραιη ιηƒℓι¢тє∂, ιѕ вє¢αυѕє тнє gσσ∂ тιмєѕ (ησ мαттєя нσω вяιєƒ) мαкє ιт αℓℓ ωσятнωнιℓє. → ωну ѕαу нι! ιƒ υ мєαη ι мιѕѕ υ.. ωну ѕαу ℓєт\'ѕ gσ! ιƒ υ мєαη ι ωαηт 2 в ω/ υ.. ωну ѕαу ѕтαу! ιƒ υ ¢αη ѕαу в ωιтн мє... αη∂ ωну ѕαу ι ¢αяє ωєη υя нєαят ѕαуѕ ι ℓυν υ! → ι ∂σηт ωαηт 2 ℓινє αησ∂єя ∂αу ιƒ υ\'яє ησ ℓσηgєя ∂єя, 4 ιη ∂ιѕ ℓуƒ σηℓу υ ¢αη ιηѕρуя мє 2 ¢ ∂ ηχт ѕυηяуѕ, σηℓу υ ¢αη мσтιν8 мє 2 αρρяє¢8 ∂ ¢σℓσяѕ σƒ ℓуƒ ∂αт ησ σηє єℓѕє ¢αη. → тѕ ƒυηηу тнαт αℓℓ σƒ тнє ѕσυℓѕ ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓѕ кησωѕ нσω ι ƒєєℓ ƒσя уσυ..вυт уσυ ιт ѕєємѕ тнαт υя тнє σηℓу σηє ωнσ ∂σєѕηт нανє тнє ¢ℓυє.. ι נυѕт ωαηηα тєℓℓ уσυ ωнαт єνєяувσ∂у кησωѕ αη∂ тнαтѕ ι ℓσνє уσυ... → ησт σℓ ∂ тум ι ¢αη gσ ωι∂ υ. ησт σℓ ∂ тум ι ¢αη ρℓιѕ υ. ησт αℓ ∂ тум ιм αναιℓαвℓє 4 υ 2 тσк 2. вυт 1 тнιηg ιѕ 4 ѕυяє, ι\'ℓ ¢αяє 4 υ єνєη ωєη υ ℓєαѕт єχρє¢т мє 2.

ಇ. .⋆⑅˚₊ name <3!! („• ֊ •„)੭ 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘀 ♡ she/he ♡ add text ₊˚ʚ₊ ♡ ༘.ﾟ ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.･｡ﾟ

https://es.pixilart.com/draw

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

💐☎🌸📚🍵💭🎨💌💗📸

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

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

Thorny people, get out of here. There could be little kids just trying to find cute kaomoji's, then see your horrible stuff. Copy & Paste this, and Submit it to spread the message #bekind #stopthethornys 12/25/2023

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

** English SPOT Notes ** Noun 1) small, usually round mark on something for example a stain. eg. ladybugs have spots and so do some animals but usually it refers to something you don't want, like a spot on your clothes. 2) a particular place or point 'This might be a good spot to rest for a while.' -- Sheldon's spot - a bald spot 3) British - a small amount of something - 'a spot of tea' Verb 1) to see or notice something 'Can you spot the differences?' 2) to mark or put spots on something 'The carpet was spotted with stains.' 3) to lend money - slang - 'Can you spot me a 20?' 4) to help someone do something physical like gymnastics. Idioms and more 1) A leopard cannot change it's spots: people can't/don't change He will again, a leopard can’t change it’s spots. 2) Got a soft spot for - weak point, or to have tender, loving feelings to She really has a soft spot for puppies! 3) hits the spot - something meets your needs - food, drink I was so hot and thirsty, the lemonade really hit the spot! 4) Spot on - to be exactly right He was spot on with his assessment of why the project failed. 5) X marks the spot The exact place of something, a letter x may be written on the location. Especially in kids stories about pirates and buried treasures you may hear someone talk about a map to find the buried treasure and say ‘x marks the spot’! 6) Spot check – noun or verb – a check or inspection that is random or only lasts a short amount of time. I heard they are doing spot checks at the border today. His boss would sometimes spot check his employees 7) Touch a sore spot (literal) (flu) Talk about something that may upset a person When he asked her about her age, he kind of touched a sore spot with her. 8) Blind spot This a 1) an area you can’t see, for example when driving, most cars have a blind spot where you can’t see around you when you are driving. This can be very dangerous. Newer cars like Teslas have lots of cameras so blind spots are not a big problem. 2) something about your life that you aren’t aware of. For example I could have a blind spot for ways that my youtube videos could be better. 9) Put someone ‘on the spot’ Make someone feel uncomfortable about something His questions about my love life really put me on the spot, I didn’t want to talk about it. 10) be in the spotlight Big bright light usually used on a stage , sometimes literal Center of attention – could be good and on purpose or not good If a person is giving a presentation, they are in the spotlight. But it could be bad if someone is famous and they do something bad or embarrassing and everyone notices. 11) tough spot – difficult situation I’m in kind of a tough spot with money right now Also: hot spot - an exciting place, wireless hotspot sunspot - darker, cooler areas on the surface of the sun spotty - has spots, uneven, inconsistent

https://docs.krita.org/en/tutorials/making_an_azalea_with_the_transformation_masks.html#lets-get-to-drawing

StoryBoard08 Tuesday 23 September 2008 Kiddies Gang Show - 08 Decision Cast: Maria & 7 children Vicki Lester – star is born Troy, Gabriella Ryan, Sharpay Person 1: Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen. We are here tonight to entertain, amaze and astound. You will be taken on a voyage through some of the greatest artistic works the world has ever seen. Person 2: From Rogers and Hammerstein, Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, right through to Disney. Each of these artists has given a generation a gift. Person 1: So please, hold onto your seats as we take you through a whirlwind of colour Person 2: To the stars and back Together: Please put your hands together Person 2: And welcome the stars of tonight’s show.... Opening Number Breaking Free – High School Musical Troy: We’re soarin’, flyin’ There’s not a star in heaven That we can’t reach Gabriella: If we’re trying So we’re breaking free Troy: You know the world can see us In a way that’s different than who we are Gabriella: Creating space between us ‘Til we’re separate hearts Both: But your faith it gives me strength Strength to believe Chorus #1 Troy: We’re breakin’ free Gabriella: We’re soarin’ Troy: Flyin’ Both: There’s not a star in heaven,That we can’t reach Troy: If we’re trying Chorus: Yeah, we’re breaking free Troy: Oh, we’re breakin’ free Chorus: Can you feel it building, Like a wave the ocean just can’t control Gabriella: Connected by a feeling Troy: In our very souls Both: Rising ‘til it lifts us up, So every one can see Chorus #2 Chorus: We’re breakin’ free Gabriella: We’re soarin’ Troy: Flyin’ All: There’s not a star in heaven, That we can’t reach Troy: If we’re trying, Yeah we’re breaking free Chorus: We’re runnin’ Troy & Gabriella: Climbin’, To get to that place All: To be all that we can be, Now’s the time, So we’re breaking free Both: Both of us breakin’ free Chorus #3 Gabriella: Soarin’ Troy: Flyin’ Both: There’s not a star in heaven, That we can’t reach, If we’re trying Troy: We’re breaking free Gabriella: Were runnin’ Troy: Climbin’ All: To get to the place, To be all that we can be, Now’s the time Gabriella: So we’re breaking free All: You know the world can see us,In a way that’s different than who we are Troy: Person A throws basketball to him which he catches....turns to the audience...Can I tell you a secret...I like to sing Sharpay: Entering from stage right....I am the greatest performer this school will ever know, Troy....he’s a basketball player...people should stick to what they know! Status Quo – High School Musical Person A: You can bet There's nothin' but net When I am in a zone and on a roll But I've got a confession My own secret obsession And it's making me lose control Chorus: Everybody gather 'round Person A: Well if Troy can tell his secret than I can tell mine...I bake Sharpay: What? Person A: I love to bake! Strudels, scones, even apple pandowdy Chorus: Not another sound Person A: Someday I hope to make the perfect creme brulee Chorus: No, no, no, No, no, no Stick to the stuff you know If you wanna be cool Follow one simple rule Don't mess with the flow, no no Stick to the status quo Skaterdude: Listen well I'm ready to tell About a need that I cannot deny Dude, there's no explanation For this awesome sensation But I'm ready to let it fly Chorus: Speak your mind and you'll be heard Skaterdude(spoken): Alright, if Troy wants to be a singer... then i'm coming clean! I play the cello! Chorus: Not another word No, no, no, no No, no, no Stick to the stuff you know If you wanna be cool Follow one simple rule Don't mess with the flow, no no Stick to the status quo No, no, no stick to the stuff you know It is better by far To keep things as they are Don't mess with the flow, no no Stick to the status quo Sharpay: This is not what I want This is not what I planned And I just gotta say I do not understand Someting is really Ryan: Something's not right Sharpay: Really wrong Sharpay & Ryan: And we gotta get things Back where they belong We can do it Stage blackout Intro begins La Vie en Lehcar at 05:06

https://wordcounter.net/character-count

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

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Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago saltwatertaffy324 I focussed solely on my children, telling myself the moments wouldn’t last forever once they grew up It wasn’t until after I put them on the bus did I check my phone to see all the alerts about cancelled school.

We felt proud as our daughter got on the bus to enjoy her first day of school. Our hearts dropped when the real school bus arrived moments later... ✨NyaChat

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.*

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.

CHIP AND FAIL v (Autistic author) "Mom, something's wrong with Dad!" Karen rushes into the room. Karen's gaze falls on Plankton, her heart aching at the sight of her husband's distress. She knows his limits, knows the signs of his overstimulation. She had hoped this wouldn't happen, had hoped that Chip's visit would be a gentle one, that they could find a way to connect without pushing Plankton too far. But she had underestimated Chip's excitement, his need for physical closeness. Her heart broke for both her son and her husband. He had never seen his dad like this, never known that his boundless enthusiasm could have such a profound effect. She knew this moment might come someday. She's had to handle Plankton's meltdowns before, but not with Chip in the room. She quickly assesses the situation, seeing the confusion and fear in Chip's screen. "MOM, PLEASE..." Karen rushes over, her screen wide with fear and concern. She sees Plankton's unblinking eye, his unresponsive state. She understands immediately. "PLEASE MOM..." Karen's screen darted between her son's frantic expression and Plankton's unresponsive form. She knew she had to act fast. She could see the confusion in Chip's screen, the desperation to understand. "But Mom, I..." Yet Karen, who's priority is Plankton's urgency, cuts Chip off. "Chip," she says firmly, her voice filled with a calm urgency. She doesn't have time to explain. "Listen to me, honey. You need to let me handle this. Go to your room and wait." She knows how hard this is for him, but his safety, and Plankton's, is what's most important right now. Chip nods, his screen never leaving his father's unresponsive form. He takes one last, lingering look before retreating to his room, his heart heavy with confusion and fear. As soon as the door clicks shut, Karen springs into action. She knows the signs of an autistic meltdown, the sudden retreat into self, the inability to communicate. Her own heart racing, she gently sits beside Plankton, her screen filled with understanding. She speaks softly, her voice a balm to his overstimulated mind. "Shh, Plankton," she whispers, her hands moving in slow, deliberate motions, "It's ok." Chip's footsteps fade away as Karen focuses on her husband. She knows he's in there, somewhere, battling a storm of sensations. Her voice is a lighthouse in the chaos, guiding him back to the shore. "Take a deep breath, love," she says, demonstrating with a slow inhale and exhale of her own. Plankton's chest rises slightly, matching her rhythm. The room is a minefield of potential triggers, but Karen's been here before. She knows to keep her movements minimal, her voice low and soothing. She starts to gently rub Plankton's back, finding the steady rhythm that calms his frayed nerves. His breathing evens out, the color slowly returning to his cheeks. But Chip, in his room, is anything but calm. His mind is a whirlwind of confusion and guilt. Why isn't Dad ok? Isn't something wrong? He paces, his heart racing. He still didn't know his dad was autistic. In the quiet of his room, Chip's thoughts raced like a tornado. Why wasn't Dad ok? Why did I have to leave like that? Was it my fault? He didn't know about his dad's autism, how his mind worked differently, how easily it could be overwhelmed. He didn't know that his enthusiastic touches and loud laughter could cause such distress. Meanwhile Karen, with her gentle touch and calming voice, began to guide Plankton back to reality. "Plankton, love, you're okay," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle lullaby in the chaos. Plankton's eye slowly refocus, the storm in his mind beginning to subside. His breathing slows, the panic retreating. She continues her soothing motions, her touch a lifeline in the sensory tempest. Plankton's eye blinked, his antennae twitching as his gaze focused on her, his breathing evening out as he felt her calming presence. He didn't know how long he had been lost in the storm, but he was grateful for her guidance.

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.

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."

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY iv (Autistic author) Without missing a beat, Plankton starts rattling off a stream of facts. "Jellyfish are invertebrates," he says, his voice gaining speed and confidence. "They have no bones, no brains, but they have stinging cells called nematocysts." "Wow, Plankton, that's amazing," Sponge Bob says, eyes wide with wonder. "I didn't know that!" "Neither did I," Karen admits, a small smile playing. "You've always had a knack for science, but this is something else." Plankton nods, his excitement palpable. "Jellyfish have life cycle," he continues, his voice taking on the rhythm of a lecturer. "Start as polyps, then grow into medusae." Plankton's antennae twitch as he recites facts rapidly. "Jellyfish can have hundreds of stinging tentacles," he says, his voice gaining momentum. "And some species can even clone themselves. It's called strobilation!" he says, his eye glued to the book. His voice is monotone, but the enthusiasm is clear as he shares his newfound knowledge. "That's so cool, Plankton!" Sponge Bob exclaims. "I had no idea!" Plankton nods. "Jellyfish book," he says again, his voice still a monotone, but his tone is less flat. Karen and Sponge Bob share a hopeful look. Plankton's intense focus on jellyfish seems to be providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos of his new reality. "I think Plankton might just become the smartest jellyfish expert in Bikini Bottom," Karen says trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe one day we can go jellyfishing together," Sponge Bob says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods, his gaze flicking to Sponge Bob before returning to the book. "Jellyfishing," he repeats. "But Plankton, remember jellyfishing can be dangerous if they sting" Karen says gently with concern. Plankton's antennae twitch. "Dangerous," he repeats, his eye still on the book. "Jellyfish sting, but Plankton have plan." He flips through the pages, stopping at an image of a jellyfish in a jar. "Jellyfish in jar," he says, tapping the picture. "Safe jellyfish." Karen and Sponge Bob exchange a look. "You wanna keep jellyfish in a jar, Plankton?" Sponge Bob asks, voice tentative. Plankton nods vigorously. "Jellyfish in jar, safe jellyfish," he says, his excitement palpable. Sponge Bob leans closer to the book, his curiosity piqued. "What else does the book say, Plankton?" Plankton starts reading off the index and page numbers, his voice a monotone yet steady stream of information. "Jellyfish page 12. Nematocysts, page 34. Jellyfish reproduction, page 67," he recites, his antennae twitching with each number. Sponge Bob leans in closer, fascinated by Plankton's sudden wealth of knowledge. "How do you remember all of that?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Good memory," he says, his voice still flat but with a hint of pride. "Plankton read book." Karen nods, her gaze soft. "Yes, you read the book," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "You've learned so much about jellyfish." Plankton's antennae quiver with excitement as he flips through the pages. "Jellyfish book," he murmurs, his gaze alight with a passion that Karen hadn't seen in him since before the accident. "You know, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, leaning closer to the book. "Maybe we could start a jellyfish club. Just you, me, and Karen. We could learn all about them together." Plankton's antennae stand at attention at the idea. "Jellyfish club," he repeats, his voice a mix of excitement and skepticism. "With Karen and Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says with a smile, her voice filled with hope. Plankton nods, his antennae moving with the rhythm of his thoughts. "Jellyfish club," he murmurs, the words rolling around in his head like a treasure found at the bottom of the sea. "Yea Plankton who knew, easy as pie!" "Pie?" he repeated, the word echoing in the room. "Pi, 3.14159265358979323846..." His voice grew in confidence as he recited the digits, his eye glazing over as he fell into a rhythm that seemed almost meditative. Karen and Sponge Bob stared at him in amazement as he rattled off the numbers, his monotone delivery a stark contrast to the awe in their expressions. "Plankton, that's incredible!" Karen exclaimed with astonishment. "Pi, yes," Plankton said unwavering. "Circle's ratio." Sponge Bob's eyes went wide. "How?" "Pi," Plankton began, his antennae quivering slightly as he found his rhythm. "The ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. 3.14159265358979323846..." He recited the digits as if they were the most natural thing in the world, his voice steady and unwavering. Karen and Sponge Bob watched in amazement as Plankton's eye took on a faraway look, his focus solely on the mathematical constant that held the secrets of the universe's geometry. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight of Plankton's newfound passion. "It's incredible how you can remember all of that," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "Remember pi," Plankton said, his antennae still quivering with excitement. "Easy for Plankton." "Wow, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his eyes sparkling with amazement. "You're a math genius!" Plankton's antennae twitched slightly at the compliment.

THE LIFE OF UNITY iv (Autistic author) Kevin's smirk is long gone, replaced by a look of shock and regret. "I... I had no idea," he stammers. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know." Plankton's antennae quiver. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you hurt Plankton." Sponge Bob's protectively around Plankton, who is now visibly upset. "You hurt Plankton's feelings," he says, his voice firm but not unkind. "You see, Plankton had an accident. He's not the same as before. He nearly broke his skull on a cash register at the Krusty Krab. It changed him." Kevin's expression shifts from shock to disbelief. "What do you mean, 'changed him'?" he asks, his tentacles quivering slightly. "He has autism now," Sponge Bob says simply, never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "It's ok, Plankton," he murmurs, tightening around the tiny plankton. "You're still you." Kevin's eyes widen, the reality of the situation sinking in. "Oh my...," he whispers, his tentacles dropping to his sides. "I had no idea." Plankton's voice filled with accusation. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you didn't know. You didn't care." Kevin's eyes are wide. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's cutting off Kevin's apology. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye flashing with pain. "Kevin not care." "I'm sorry, Plankton. I didn't mean to be so cruel." But Plankton's unyielding. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye still brimming with unshed tears. "You didn't know. You no care." Kevin's smugness evaporates as the weight of his own words crashes down on him. The realization that his careless jests have caused such pain is written all over his face. His eyes are wide with horror, his tentacles trembling. "I'm sorry," he whispers, starting to touch Plankton. But Plankton recoils at the touch, his antennae quivering violently, his monotone voice filled with panic. "NO!" he squeaks, his one eye wide with fear. "Kevin, no touch!" Kevin's tentacles jerk back as if burned, his eyes filled with shock and remorse. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, his voice thick with regret. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to..." "Kevin, no touch," he repeats, his one eye flashing. "Plankton not like that." "I didn't know," he whispers, his eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "I'm so sorry." But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo of the fear he feels. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye fixed on the sea cucumber, "you didn't know. You don't care." Sponge Bob's placing himself between Plankton and the sea cucumber. "Kevin," he says firmly with a newfound resolve. "You need to apologize to Plankton. What you said was not okay." Kevin's tentacles quiver, his eyes darting from Sponge Bob to Plankton's trembling form. "I'm... I'm sorry," he stammers, his smugness replaced by genuine contrition. "I didn't know. I didn't mean it like that." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice still echoing the pain of the insult. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye narrowed, "you hurt Plankton." Kevin's expression falls, the full impact of his words hitting him like a brick wall. He takes a step back, his tentacles drooping. "I didn't know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had... you know." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and pain. "Kevin," he murmurs, his monotone voice strained. "Kevin hurt Plankton. Not funny." Kevin's tentacles twitch, his expression a mix of shock and discomfort. "Look, I didn't know," he says, his voice quivering. "I'm sorry. I just..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice cutting through the awkward silence. "Space," he murmurs, his one eye pleading. Kevin creeps up closer. "Space? What..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and fear, his monotone voice a sad echo of the pain Kevin's words have caused. "Plankton," he murmurs, his one eye wide with desperation. "Alone." Kevin still doesn't understand. "You're not alone," he starts, reaching out. But Plankton's antennae quiver more fiercely, his monotone voice filled with a rare urgency. "No," he murmurs, his one eye darting around. "Space." "I don't underst--" But Plankton's filled with a desperation Kevin had never heard before. "Space," he murmurs again, more forcefully this time. "Kevin, go." "Go to outer space? But..." "Space," Plankton repeats more insistently, his eye frantic. Kevin's with confusion. "But, Plankton we're in the middle of the jellyfish fields." But Plankton's antennae quiver with urgency, his monotone voice unwavering. "Space," he murmurs, his one eye pleading. "Now." "I don't..." Kevin starts, grabbing Plankton's hand. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, and he pulls away, his monotone voice rising. "SPACE!" he shouts, his eye flashing with fury. Startled, Kevin takes a step back. "Where in outer space?" But Plankton's antennae quiver with impatience, his monotone voice tight. "Any space," he cries. "Just go." Kevin's tentacles twitch, his smugness forgotten. "But... but what about the jellyfish? Oh do you mean any planet.." He says, absent mindedly putting his hand on Plankton's back. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, and he jumps away. "NO TOUCH!" he screams, his monotone voice cracking with emotion. "PLANKTON. NEED. SPACE!" Kevin's tentacles recoil as if stung, his eyes wide with shock. "I'm sorry," he stammers, taking a step back. "I can't fly a rocket to space.." But Plankton's antennae quiver with rage. "Any space," he repeats, his one eye glaring. "Away." Kevin's tentacles hang limp, his smugness shattered by the depth of Plankton's pain. "But, Plankton, we can't leave Earth without..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with fury, his monotone voice a whip crack. "Any space," he repeats, his one eye narrowed. "Now." Kevin's tentacles retract, his smugness gone. "Any planet other than Earth? I'd like to help but..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with frustration, his monotone voice cutting through the confusion. "Not space," he murmurs, his one eye blazing with anger. "Space." Kevin's tentacles tremble, his smile fading into a look of fear. "I can't get outer space without a rocket?" he says, taking a step back. But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, his monotone voice a thunderclap in the stillness. "No rocket," he murmurs, his one eye flashing. "Space. Now." Kevin's tentacles quiver, his smugness replaced by fear. "But Plankton," he stammers, taking a step back, "we can't just go to space without..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with rage, his monotone voice a whip crack. "Space," he repeats, his one eye narrowed. "Now." Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced by a look of pure terror. "But Plankton, I can't just leave the sea," he says, his voice shaking. But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and desperation, his monotone voice a thunderclap in the quiet waters. "Space," he repeats unwavering. Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced by a look of fear as he tries to comprehend Plankton's words. "But Plankton," he stammers, "you can't survive in space. It's not possible." But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, his monotone voice a monotone shout. "Space," he repeats, his one eye flashing with desperation. "Away from here." Kevin's tentacles retract, his smugness dissolving in to confusion. "But Plankton, we're in the middle of jellyfish fields," he says, his voice trembling. "We can't just..." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and desperation, his monotone voice a monotone shout. "SPACE!" he repeats, his one eye flashing. "Kevin go now!" Kevin's tentacles twitch, his smugness dissipating like smoke in the face of Plankton's distress. "But Plankton I don't..." he starts, taking a cautious step back. Plankton breathes in and gathers his words together, his antennae quivering with the effort of controlling his emotions. "Kevin JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouts, his monotone voice crackling with anger. Kevin's tentacles quiver in understanding, his smugness evaporating like mist in the sun. "Oh," he says, his voice small and sad. "You mean personal space.." Plankton's antennae quiver slightly, his monotone voice softening. "Yes," he murmurs, his one eye blinking rapidly. "Space." Sponge Bob nods. "Okay, Kevin," he says firmly. "You need to give Plankton some space right now. He's going through a tough time." Kevin's smugness is completely gone, replaced by a look of genuine concern. He takes a step back. "I had no idea," he whispers. "I'm really sorry. I'll go. Bye."

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY iv (Autistic author) Sandy feels the full weight of her words crash down upon her. The accusations she had thrown at Plankton now felt like sharp stones in her own stomach. Her mind reels as she tries to comprehend what she had just learned. Autism? Plankton? How could she have been so blind, so cruel? Her gaze falls to the floor, avoiding Karen's. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice thick with guilt. "I didn't know." Karen nods, her own emotions swirling. "But we need to be more careful with him." Sandy's eyes are glued to the floor, her tail flicking nervously. "I didn't mean to hurt him," she says, her voice small and ashamed. "I just thought he was being weird." Karen nods, understanding. "I know," she says, her voice gentle. "But now we know better, and we have to help him." She moves towards the bedroom, her steps determined. "Let's go check on him." They enter the room quietly. Karen's optical sensors scan his tiny form, noticing the slight rise and fall of his chest. He's asleep, she realizes, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. Sandy's gaze follows hers, her expression a mix of regret and curiosity. She's never seen Plankton like this before, his features softer, almost peaceful in repose. "Is he okay?" she asks, her voice a whisper. Karen nods, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. "He's sleeping," she says, her voice filled with tenderness. "It's been a big day for him." Sandy steps closer, her gaze taking in Plankton's sleeping features. His face, usually twisted with plotting and schemes, is now slack with exhaustion. His eye, usually alive with cunning, is closed, and his breaths come in deep, even snores, his mouth slightly agape. "What do we do now?" Sandy asks, her voice hushed. Karen sits beside him on the bed, her hand still on his shoulder. "We help him," she says, her voice firm. "We learn about his autism and how we can support him." They spend the next few moments in silence, the air heavy with the weight of what has been said. Karen's hand continues to gently stroke Plankton's shoulder. Sandy sits down on the opposite side of the bed. Her gaze is fixed on Plankton, her thoughts racing. She had known him for so long, and yet she had never considered this possibility. "What does this mean for him?" she whispers, her voice filled with concern. Karen sighs, her hand still stroking Plankton's shoulder. "It means we'll have to make some changes," she says softly. "He'll need routines, and patience, and understanding." Sandy nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can do that," she says, her voice filled with determination. "But what about... us?" Karen looks up, her gaze meeting Sandy's. "What do you mean?" she asks, her hand pausing in its soothing motion. Sandy swallows, her eyes still on Plankton. "Our friendship," she says. "How do we handle this without making him feel... different?" Karen nods, understanding her concern. "We just need to be there for him," she says. "He's still the same Plankton, just with some new challenges." They sit in silence for a moment, the only sound the rhythm of Plankton's snores. Sandy reaches out tentatively, her paw hovering over his arm. "Is it ok to touch him?" she asks. Karen nods. "Yes, Sandy. Just be gentle," she whispers. Sandy's paw touches Plankton's arm, her touch light and tentative. He stirs slightly, but doesn't wake. She leaves her paw there, offering comfort without intrusion. Karen watches them with a mix of love and fear for the future. Plankton's autism was still a mystery to them, a labyrinth they were just beginning to navigate. She knows it won't be easy, but she's determined to be by his side. "We're a team," she says, squeezing Plankton's shoulder. Sandy nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "A team," she repeats, her voice filled with resolve. For the first time since the diagnosis, the three of them are united in a common goal: to understand and support Plankton as he navigates his new reality. Sandy and Karen exchange a look, each one filled with a determination that mirrors the other. They've been friends through thick and thin, through Krabby Patty heists and jellyfish stings, and now they're facing a challenge none of them had ever anticipated. Sandy's paw remains on Plankton's arm, her touch steady and reassuring. Plankton stirred, his sleep disturbed by the unfamiliar weight of Sandy's paw on his arm. His eye fluttered open, and he was met with the sight of Sandy and Karen, their faces contorted with a mix of concern and confusion. He sat up quickly, his body jolting with fear. "Plankton, it's ok," Karen soothes, her hand reaching out to calm him. "You're safe." "Karen sad?" he asks, his voice cracking. Sandy's paw tightens on his arm, which makes Plankton feel uncomfortable enough to get him to snap at her. "What Sandy want?" he asks, his voice sharp, his body tense with anxiety. Sandy's eyes fill with tears. "I didn't mean to make you upset," she says, her voice shaking. "I just didn't know." Plankton's gaze flits between them, trying to read their expressions, but his brain struggles to interpret their complex emotions. "Karen sad?" he repeats, his voice a mix of fear and confusion. Karen's hand moves to cover Sandy's, her grip firm but gentle. "No, Plankton," she says, her voice soothing. "We're just concerned about you." Sandy takes a deep breath, forcing back her tears. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Plankton's gaze flickers between them, his mind racing to understand the situation. "No hurt," he says, his voice shaky. "Sandy say Karen sad. No sad." Karen's circuits pulse with a mixture of relief and sadness. "Sandy didn't mean it, Plankton," she says, her voice filled with compassion. "We're all just trying to understand what's happening." Sandy's eyes are cast down, her paws fidgeting in her lap. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice heavy with regret. "I didn't know." She grabs Plankton in a hug, unaware of how the tight embrace might feel to him. Plankton stiffens, his senses getting overwhelmed. "No touch," he says, his voice tight. Sandy quickly releases him, her eyes wide with apology. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to help." Karen nods, her gaze softening. "We all do," she says. "But we have to learn how to help in ways that don't overwhelm him." Plankton's eye darts around the room, with the need to regulate himself. He starts to rock in a rhythmic motion, a self-soothing behavior his new autism craves. The sensation of his own movements helps to calm the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling within him. Karen notices the change immediately and nods understandingly. "It's ok, Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "You do what you need to do." Sandy watches, her curiosity piqued by the rhythmic rocking "What's he doing?" she asks, her voice hushed. Karen sighs, her gaze filled with understanding. "It's his way of self-soothing," she explains. "It's called stimming." Sandy's eyes widen, taking in Plankton's rhythmic rocks. "Stimming?" she repeats. "What's that?" Karen nods, her voice calm and patient. "It's a way for him to regulate his sensory input," she explains. "It helps him feel safe and in control." Sandy watches. He starts to hum, a low buzz that resonates in the quiet room, his way of finding comfort in the chaos of his thoughts. "It's ok," Karen whispers, her hand on his shoulder. "We're here." Plankton's eye lock onto her hand, the pressure of her touch offering a semblance of comfort. He starts to rock back and forth again. The movement calms him slightly. Sandy watches. She had never seen Plankton like this before. The sharpness of her words from earlier stings her now, as she realizes the depth of his distress. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice quiet. "I didn't know." Plankton's humming turns to a soft melody, his body still moving in a soothing pattern. The words echo in his head, a reminder of the world's expectations he can never quite meet. Sandy watches him, her own world now forever changed. She had always known Plankton to be eccentric, but this was different. This was real. Her mind reels with questions and fears. How would this affect their friendship? Could they ever return to the easy banter they once shared? Would he still be the same friend she had always known? But as she watches him stim, the reality of the situation starts to set in. Plankton was still Plankton, but with a new set of rules and a new way of seeing the world. Sandy makes a silent vow to learn those rules, to understand his world as much as he had tried to understand hers.

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.

JUST A TOUCH v (Autistic author) Hanna's confusion is clear as she watches Karen crouch before Plankton, her hand hovering an inch from his shoulder. "Plankton, sweetie," Karen says, her voice a gentle coax. "It's just me." No indication from Plankton though. Hanna's eyes dart from Karen to Plankton and back, trying to piece together what has happened. "What's wrong with him?" she whispers. "He's just overwhelmed," Karen says, her voice tight with frustration. Hanna looks from Karen to Plankton, his body rigid. "What happened?" she asks again, her voice laced with concern. Karen sighs heavily, her eyes full of pain. "Plankton has Acquired Autism." The words hang in the air like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over the room. Hanna's face falls, her hand covering her mouth in shock. "Oh no," she murmurs, realizing her mistake. "I didn't know." Her eyes dart to Plankton, his body still frozen, his gaze vacant. "I'm so sorry." She says, reaching for him again as Karen's. Karen's hand shoots out, stopping her mid-air. "No, don't," she says firmly. "He's hypersensitive now. Sometimes touch can be... painful." Hanna's hand retreats, her eyes widening. "I didn't know," she whispers, her voice filled with regret. "I just wanted to be friendly." Karen's expression softens slightly. "It's okay," she says, her voice calming. "You couldn't have known." But Plankton remains still, his eye unblinking. "Plankton," Karen whispers, her hand reaching for his. He doesn't flinch this time, his body still as stone. She squeezes gently, hoping the familiar gesture will bring him back. "You're safe at home." Hanna watches, her heart heavy with guilt. She had no idea her enthusiasm could have such a profound effect on him. "What can I do?" she asks, her voice shaky. Karen looks up, her eyes tired. "Just give us some space," she says. "Let me... let me help him." Hanna nods, her own screen brimming with unshed tears. "Of course," she murmurs, backing away. Plankton remains frozen, his gaze locked on the floor. Karen wraps her arms around his shoulders. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers, her voice soothing. "You're safe here." She rubs his arm lightly, the way she's learned not to cause him discomfort. He doesn't move, but she can feel the tension slowly leaving his body. His antennae lift slightly. "You're okay," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle murmur. "Just breathe." Slowly, Plankton's body begins to relax, his antennae twitching as he takes in her words. Hanna watches from a distance. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice quieter. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to..." Her words trail off, but Karen simply nods, her eyes not leaving Plankton's. "It's okay," she repeats. "We're still learning." Hanna sits on the edge of the sofa, her eyes never leaving them. She feels like an intruder, a bull in a china shop. She had come to offer support, but instead, she'd triggered something deep within him. The room feels heavy with unspoken words. "I didn't mean to push him," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "I just didn't know." Karen's grip on Plankton tightens slightly, but she doesn't look up. "It's okay," she says again, her voice a lifeline in the quiet. "It's a lot to take in." Hanna nods, her screen filling with tears she quickly wipes away. "But I'll learn," she says, her determination clear. "I want to be a good friend to both of you." Plankton's antennae quiver, a faint glimmer of recognition flickering in his eye. Karen nods. "Thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely audible. Hanna watches as Karen's gentle touch seems to break through the barriers Plankton has erected. His body slowly unfurls from his rigid stance, his gaze shifting from the floor to meet Karen's. "It's okay," Karen repeats, her voice a balm. "Let's go to our room. You need to rest." Plankton nods slightly, allowing her to guide him away from the living room. Hanna watches them go, her heart aching for her friend. She knows she's overstayed her welcome, but she can't bear to leave without apologizing to Plankton. "I'll go," she says, her voice thick. Karen turns, her screen swimming with unshed tears. "Thank you, Hanna," she says, her voice hoarse. Hanna nods, her own eyes shimmering. "Call me if you need anything," she says, her voice thick with emotion. She stands, her legs feeling like jelly, and makes her way to the door, her heart heavy with the weight of what she's done. The moment the door clicks shut, Karen feels the tension in the room dissipate slightly. Plankton's body relaxes a fraction, his eye no longer staring blankly at the floor. She leads him to their bedroom, the familiar surroundings seeming to soothe his frazzled nerves. Once inside, she helps him into bed, the softness of the covers a stark contrast to the rigidness of his body. She pulls the curtains shut, dimming the lights to reduce the sensory stimulation. Plankton's antennae twitch, a sign of his relief. Karen sits beside him. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't know she'd..." Plankton's gaze meets hers, his eye less intense now. "It's okay," he says, his voice monotone. "Just need... quiet." Karen nods, her hand still resting on his shoulder. "I'm here," she says. "I'm always here."

CATCH IN MY CHIP vi (Autistic author) Plankton's gaze shifts to Chip, his eye filled with regret, but the words won't come. Despite his leftover anger, he felt a bit bad about it. He just wanted to show Chip what it meant to be bombarded! He didn't have it in him to say he's sorry, and he's still tense. Karen feels the weight of the moment, her eyes moving between her husband and her son. "Why don't you sit with Daddy, Chip?" she suggests, her voice soft. "Give him some space, but let him know you're here. I'll be downstairs." With a nod, Chip approaches the bed, his eyes still filled with uncertainty. He sits down gingerly beside Plankton, who's staring at the shattered mess of their evening. The room is a silent testament to their unspoken words and the battle that raged within Plankton. For a moment, neither of them moves, the air thick with unspoken regret and confusion. Then, slowly, Chip reaches out with his small hand. Plankton looks at him, his eye reflecting a tumult of emotions—anger, guilt, fear, frustration. Chip's hand hovers over his dad's, unsure if he'll flinch or pull away. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. Plankton's antennas droop, his eye still cast down at the wreckage of their evening. "I know," he says, his voice still tight with anger. Chip's hand hovers over his arm. "Ca--" But Plankton cuts him off. "Don't," he says, his voice raw with emotion. "Just don't." He turns away, his body a wall of tension. Chip's hand falls to his side, his eyes wide with hurt. "But Dad," he says, his voice breaking. "I di-" "I said don't," Plankton snaps, his voice harsh. "I can't do this right now." His antennas twitch, his body language a clear indication that he needs space. Chip's eyes fill with tears, his hand retreating to his lap. "But Dad," he starts again, his voice shaking. Plankton's eye snaps up, his anger a living flame. "I said don't!" he shouts, his voice echoing in the small room. "But I'm just trying to-" "I SAID DON'T!" The words are a thunderclap, silencing Chip's protests. He pulls his legs up to his chest, hugging his knees tightly, as if to shield his heart from the pain. "Dad I promise I won't overwhelm you again," Chip whispers. Plankton's antennas quiver, his shoulders hunched. But Chip takes that as a green light. Remembering how his mom put her hand on his back, he tries to replicate it. So with a trembling hand, Chip reaches out and touches Plankton's shoulder with hope.. But Plankton's reaction is not what he expects. With a shriek of overstimulation, Plankton jumps away, his body convulsing as if he's been electrified. "Don't touch me!" he yells. The room seems to tilt, and Chip's eyes widen with shock. He's never seen his dad like this before, so raw and exposed. "Dad, I'm sorry," he whispers, his hand retreating as if burned. Plankton's face contorts, his body wracked with a tremor that shakes him to the core. Chip's eyes widen in horror, his hand hovering in the space between them, frozen. Karen steps back into the room, her gaze taking in the snapshot of pain and regret. Her heart aches for both her husband and son. She knows Plankton didn't mean to scream, that his senses are still on high alert. And she knows Chip is just trying to bridge the gap with his love. Her eyes lock onto Plankton's, and she can see the desperation behind the anger. He's scared and overwhelmed, and she understands that feeling all too well. She moves towards the bed, her steps measured and calm. "Plankton, sweetie," she says, her voice a soothing melody as she reaches out to touch his back. But the moment her hand makes contact, Plankton's body tenses further, his eye squeezing shut. "No!" he yells. Karen's hand retreats as if she's been burned, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and concern. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice barely audible above Chip's sniffles. Plankton's body is a coil of tension, his eye squeezed shut as if trying to block out the world. The room seems to spin around him, each sound and sensation a needle prick in his overloaded brain. "K-Karen, I...," he gasps, his voice strained. "I-I-I-I… can't..." Karen's realizes the gravity of the situation. She understands that her husband has hit a point of no return, where even the gentle touch of her hand is too much. With a deep sigh, she sits down on the bed, her eyes on Plankton's trembling form. Her heart is torn between concern for him and the knowledge that Chip is watching, trying to make sense of the chaos. "Okay, honey," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "It's okay. We'll give you some space." Chip looks up at her, his face a question mark. "But Dad?" he says, his voice small. Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "It's okay, Chip," she says, her voice steady. "Daddy needs some alone time." With a heavy heart, Chip slides off the bed, the shattered pieces of his trophy crunching under his feet. He looks at his dad one last time, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing. "Okay," he whispers, his voice thick with unshed tears. Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Plankton. "I'll come find you when Dad's feeling a bit better." Chip's eyes dart to his dad, who's still shaky, his body curled into a tight ball. The sight breaks Karen's heart, but she knows that this is the best they can do for now. Karen's gaze lingers on Plankton, understanding the silent cry for help in his eye. She's seen this before, the way his autism can consume him during moments of overwhelm. She nods gently, her eyes conveying her love and patience. Plankton's breathing starts to even out, his body slowly unwinding from the tight coil of tension. He's aware of her presence, the steady rhythm of her breathing a comforting metronome in the chaos of his thoughts. Karen knows that space is crucial for him, but she also understands that a quiet companion can be just as healing. "It's okay," she whispers, her hand hovering close but not touching him. "You can take your time." Her voice is a gentle reminder that he's not alone. Plankton's eye flickers to her, his breaths still ragged. Karen's understanding is a lifeline in the storm of his emotions. Karen knows that pushing him now would only make things worse, so she sits quietly beside him, offering her silent support. Her love for him is a balm to his soul, even if he can't express it in words.

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM vi (Autistic author) Sponge Bob's heart swells with compassion. "It's ok, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "We don't have to play anymore." Plankton's antennas drop, and he nods slowly. "No fish," he repeats, his voice a sigh of relief. Sponge Bob's hand freezes in mid-air, his eyes searching Plankton's face for any sign of anger or disappointment. But all he sees is a glimmer of understanding in his friend's eye. "Thank Sponge Bob for being patient." Plankton says to him. Sponge Bob nods, his eyes still filled with concern. "I'll be patient, Plankton," he promises. "Can I ask how you hit your head?" Plankton's antennas lift slightly. "Pan," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fry pan, Mr. Krabs. Only Karen and SpongeBob know." Sponge Bob's eyes widen with shock. "What?!" he exclaims. "Mr. Krabs hurt you?" Plankton nods, his antennas still low. "Pan," he repeats, his voice shaking. "Pan," he says again, his voice softer. "Krabs hit on head." Sponge Bob's anger towards Mr. Krabs is immediate and intense. "I can't believe he'd do that to you," he says, his voice low and teary. "Mr. Krabs did to protect the krabby patty." Karen interjects quickly, sensing the tension. "He doesn't know how badly he hurt Plankton." Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, his thoughts racing. He can't believe Mr. Krabs could do something like that, even in the heat of the moment. "I'll talk to Mr. Krabs," he says firmly, his voice laced with determination. "He needs to know what..." "No!" The sharpness of Plankton's voice cuts through the air like a knife, his antennas shooting up in alarm. "Mr. Krabs no," he says, his eye wide with fear. "No tell." Sponge Bob's anger fades slightly, replaced by confusion. "Why not?" he asks, his voice gentle. "He needs to know so he can understand.." Plankton's antennas quiver anxiously. "Krabs not know," he whispers, his eye pleading with Sponge Bob. "Safe here." Sponge Bob's confusion deepens. "But Plankton, if Mr. Krabs doesn't know, how will he make it up to you?" Plankton's antennas droop, his eye darting back and forth between Karen and Sponge Bob. "No make up," he murmurs. "Just no satisfaction for Krabs." Sponge Bob's mind spins with the implications. He knows Mr. Krabs would never hurt anyone that much intentionally, even Plankton; but the thought of his boss not knowing the extent of his actions troubles him. "I won't tell him," Sponge Bob says, his voice soft with reassurance. But of course, Mr. Krabs comes in. "What in the name of Neptune are ye doing? I gave ye the day off yesterday!" "The Krusty Krab is closed on Sunday, and it's Sunday today." SpongeBob reminds his boss. "Oh, right." Mr. Krabs looks at Plankton and his eyes narrow. "What's going on here?" he asks, suspicion heavy in his voice. Plankton's antennas droop even lower, and he looks down at the floor. Plankton speaks first. "Go fish," he whispers, his eye darting up to meet Mr. Krabs'. Sponge Bob steps in quickly, trying to cover for his friend. "We were just playing a game," he says, forcing a smile. Mr. Krabs eyes them both skeptically. "Well, I hope it wasn't about stealing me secret formular," he says, his claws tapping nervously. "No, Mr. Krabs," Sponge Bob says quickly, "just a friendly game." Plankton's antennas twitch slightly at the mention of the Krabby Patty formula, but he remains silent. Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow further. "What's wrong with you, Plankton?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and a touch of irritation. "You're acting strangely quiet even for you." Plankton's antennas quiver. Sponge Bob's heart paces. He doesn't want to betray Plankton's trust. "It's nothing," Plankton says, his voice forced. "Just a little game, Krabs wanna play." "Fine I'll play, but I got my eye on ye, Plankton." Mr. Krabs says, his tone still suspicious as he sits down to join them. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to Karen, who gives a nod of understanding. They'll keep the secret and hope Mr. Krabs doesn't figure it out. "Let's play Uno!" Sponge Bob says, getting out the new card game, dealing the cards. Plankton's antennas perk up at the mention of a new game, and he eagerly takes his cards. Mr. Krabs grumbles but plays along, eyeing Plankton carefully. Then, it happens. Mr. Krabs slaps a card down on the pile and excitedly yells, "Uno!" Plankton's antennas shoot straight up, and his eye widen with sensory overload. Sponge Bob's concerned, but Mr. Krabs is too busy gloating to notice. "Yee-haw!" he crows. "I win again!" Plankton's antennas quiver as he tries to process the sudden loudness and change in the atmosphere. Mr. Krabs looks at him, his expression puzzled. "What's the matter, Plankton?" he asks, his voice laced with disdain. "Lost your competitive spirit?" Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "Plankton's just excited, Mr. Krabs," he says quickly. "Isn't that right, Plankton?" Plankton's antennas wave erratically, and his voice is a mix of fear and confusion. "Yes, Krabs," he stammers, his eye darting around the room. "Uno. Fish. Yes." Mr. Krabs looks at him oddly but shrugs it off, his attention already returning to the game. "Alright, let's keep playing," he says, dealing out more cards. But Plankton's mind is elsewhere, his antennas twitching with the effort to keep up. "Fish," he murmurs to himself, trying to find a familiar word. His hands shake as he holds his cards, the world around him a cacophony of sensory overload. Sponge Bob notices Plankton's distress and quickly changes the topic. "Hey, Mr. Krabs, have you ever played Chess?" Mr. Krabs' eyes light up. "Chess? The game of kings and conquers!" he exclaims. "I'd love a round!" SpongeBob gets the chess game. The chess pieces are set up, and Mr. Krabs begins to play, his claws clacking against the board as he moves his pieces. Plankton watches, his antennas still, his eye focused. "Your move, Plankton," Mr. Krabs says, his claws tapping the edge of the board impatiently. But Plankton doesn't move. He just sits there, staring at the chessboard, his cards forgotten in his hand. "What's with you?" Mr. Krabs asks, his voice filled with exasperation. "You're taking forever!" Sponge Bob's heart skips a beat. He knows he can't let Mr. Krabs see how much Plankton's been affected by the accident. "It's ok Mr. Krabs," he says quickly. "Plankton's just thinking of his next move." Mr. Krabs grumbles but doesn't push the issue. He's too focused on his own strategy, his claws moving pieces with calculated precision. But Plankton remains frozen, his gaze unwavering on the board. His antennas twitch slightly, a sign of his racing thoughts. After several moments of silence, Mr. Krabs finally snaps. "Plankton, it's your turn!" he says, his patience wearing thin. Plankton's antennas twitch, and his eye flits to the board. "Fish?" he asks, his voice unsure. Mr. Krabs stares at Plankton, his eyes narrowing. "What do fish have to do with chess?" he asks, confusion etched deeply on his face. Sponge Bob's heart sinks as he sees the puzzlement in Mr. Krabs' eyes. He quickly jumps in. "Oh, Plankton was just thinking out loud," he says, trying to lighten the mood. Mr. Krabs grunts, but his suspicion doesn't fade. "You've always been a weird little fellow, Plankton, but this is something else," he says, his tone a mix of curiosity and exasperation. Sponge Bob's heart thumps in his chest as he tries to diverge the conversation. "Why don't we talk about something else?" he suggests, his eyes darting back to the chessboard. Mr. Krabs' gaze remains on Plankton, his eyes narrowed. But Plankton's antennas remain still, his expression vacant. "Fish," he murmurs, his voice distant. Mr. Krabs' patience thins to a thread. "Fish?" he repeats, his confusion palpable. "What's going on with you, Plankton?" Plankton's antennas wobble, his eye still fixated on the board. "Fish," he says again, his voice uncertain. Mr. Krabs leans forward, his eyes studying Plankton closely. "You okay, tiny fry?" he asks, hinting concern despite the sarcasm. Plankton's antennas quiver slightly. "Fish," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob's heart clenches at the word, understanding now that it's not just a game for Plankton; it's his way of trying to make sense of the world around him. Mr. Krabs, however, simply sighs and shakes his head. "You always have to make everything so complicated," he mumbles, his voice tired. "Why can't you just play the game like everyone else?" He yells tipping the board over to where the chess pieces fall to the ground by Plankton. Plankton's antennas shiver at the sound, and his eye dart to the upset board, his expression one of deep distress. "No fish," he whispers, his voice breaking. Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, his suspicion growing. "What's going on with you?" he asks again. "Fish, fish, fish!"

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vi (Autistic author) Plankton holds up the science book he had been clutching, the pages fluttering in his excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes flick to the book, then back to Plankton's face. "You're acting different." Plankton's smile falters, his hands stilling momentarily. "No bad," he insists, his voice a bit too cheerful. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes search Plankton's, trying to read the truth behind his words. "But you've never been this... affectionate before," he says, his voice tentative. Plankton's smile widens. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice a sing-song. "You are good friend." He leans in closer, his antennas quivering. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen further, his spongy cheeks reddening. "Plankton, what's going on?" he asks, his tone filled with confusion. "You've never said that before." Plankton's smile only grows broader. "No bad," he repeats, his voice still monotone. "Good day. Happy." He starts to rock back and forth on the bed, his hands flapping in a pattern that seems almost... happy? Sponge Bob's confusion deepens. Plankton had never been one to show affection, let alone so openly. "What's going on?" he asks again, his voice laced with concern. Plankton's response is a repetitive giggle, his eye locked on Sponge Bob's face. "Good day," he says, his hands flapping in a pattern that matches his words. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen in surprise. Plankton nods vigorously, his hands flapping rapidly. "Very happy," he says, his voice high and excited. "Best friend happy." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to concern. "Plankton, are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's giggle turns to a laugh, a sound Sponge Bob rarely hears from him. "Yes," he says, his voice still monotone. "Happy." Sponge Bob watches his friend, his heart racing. "What happened to you?" he asks, his concern growing with each passing moment. Plankton's laughter fades into a grin. "No bad," he says, his hands still fluttering in the air. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with worry. "What's really going on?" Plankton's grin turns into a frown, his hands stopping their motion. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "No bad. Happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with confusion, but he can't ignore the desperation in Plankton's tone. He reaches out, his hand resting gently on Plankton's arm. "But why are you so happy?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. Plankton's frown deepens, his mind racing to find the right words. "Because," he says, his voice strained. "I have friend. Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his hand still on Plankton's arm. "But we've always been friends," he says, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton's smile is wide, his eye unblinking. "Yes," he says, his voice still monotone. "Best friends. Happy." Sponge Bob's mind races. Something is clearly different about Plankton, but he doesn't know what. "But, Plankton," he starts, his voice tentative. "What happened to make you so... so...?" He struggles for the right word. Plankton's smile fades slightly, his gaze dropping to the book in his lap. "Book," he says, his voice flat. "Good book." Sponge Bob nods, trying to follow the conversation. "Yeah, it looks interesting," he says, his eyes searching for a clue. But Plankton's gaze is fixed on the book, his hands resuming their rhythmic flapping. "Good book," he repeats, his voice a gentle mantra. Sponge Bob's eyes flick from the book to Plankton's hands, his mind racing to connect the dots. "Is something wrong, Plankton?" he asks, his voice soft with worry. Plankton's hands stop their flapping abruptly, his eye snapping to Sponge Bob's face. "No wrong," he says, his voice earnest. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's expression is one of bewilderment. "But you've always liked your science books," he says, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the situation. "What's different about this one?" Plankton's smile returns, his hands resuming their flapping. "This one," he says, his voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm. "Good book. Happy book." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy heart swelling with a mixture of joy and concern. "What makes this one so special?" Plankton's hands flutter with excitement as he opens the book to a random page. "Look," he says, his voice a high-pitched squeak. "See?" Sponge Bob leans in, his eyes scanning the dense text filled with scientific terms. He nods, trying to appear engaged, though he has no clue what he's looking at. "Wow, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with forced enthusiasm. "That's... really interesting." Plankton's smile widens, his hands flapping in excitement. "Yes," he says, his voice a cheerful monotone. "Good book." Sponge Bob nods, still confused but not wanting to rain on his friend's parade. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it," he says, his voice warm. Plankton's hands stop moving momentarily. "Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "You are best friend." He leans in closer, his antennas quivering with excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes widen in surprise as he feels a sudden wave of warmth and affection from Plankton, something that's never been present in their usually antagonistic friendship. "What's going on, Plankton?" he asks, his voice filled with curiosity. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Plankton's smile doesn't waver. "Sponge Bob," he says, his voice still monotone. "You are good. You make Plankton happy." "What's happened to make you so affectionate, Plankton?" Sponge Bob's question hangs in the air, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected warmth from his usually adversarial friend. Plankton's response is a repetitive giggle, his hands resuming their flapping. "No bad," he says, his voice cheerful. "Good day." He pats the bed next to him. "Sit, Sponge Bob. Read book." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy body frozen in place. "I don't think I can read that, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with uncertainty. "It's really complicated." Plankton nods, his smile remaining constant. "It's okay," he says, his voice soothing. "You try." He pushes the book closer to Sponge Bob, his hand guiding him to the page. Sponge Bob hesitates, his thumb flipping through the pages. The words are a blur of symbols and numbers, his mind struggling to make sense of them. "But, Plankton, I don't understand any of this," he admits, his voice filled with frustration. Plankton's hand stops him, his eye wide with excitement. "Doesn't matter," he says, his voice cheerful. "You are here. Best friend." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to concern. "But Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "You're not acting like yourself." Plankton's smile fades slightly, his hands stilling. "Self," he repeats, his voice contemplative. He looks at Sponge Bob, his eye searching his friend's face for understanding. Sponge Bob's expression is one of confusion and concern. "Is this a joke?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's smile falters for a moment before growing wider. "No joke," he says, his voice a singsong. "Happy." He pats the bed again, his hand a silent invitation. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with compassion. He sits down beside his friend. "Plankton," he starts, his voice tentative. "Is everything ok?" Plankton nods vigorously, his hands flapping with excitement. "Everything is good," he says, his voice a monotone cheer. "Best day." Sponge Bob's gaze lingers on his friend, searching for any sign of distress. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with uncertainty. "You're not usually like this." Plankton's smile never fades. "Don't know," he says, his voice calm. "But now, happy." Sponge Bob's heart clenches, his fears for his friend's well-being growing stronger. "But what about your schemes?" he asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton's eye blinks, the thought of his usual plans of world domination momentarily forgotten. "Schemes?" he repeats, his voice confused. Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, you know, your plans to steal the Krabby Patty secret formula," he says, his tone light. Plankton's smile falters, his hands stopping their flapping. "Krabby Patty?" he asks, his voice distant. "No want Krabby Patty. Happy." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy mind racing. "You don't want to steal the formula?" he asks, his voice incredulous, now really suspicious. Plankton shakes his head, his antennas swaying slightly. "No," he says, his voice still monotone. "Only happy." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with confusion, but he can't ignore the genuine smile on his friend's face. "Okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "If you're happy, then I'm happy for you." Plankton's eye lit up, his hands flapping with excitement. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "Best friend."

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON vi (Autistic author) (see notes below) * ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪsᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ Plankton's eye closed slowly, his breathing evening out under her calming touch. His body relaxed into the cushions of the couch, his mind still racing but his body succumbing to the siren call of sleep. The smoothie and Karen's comforting presence had worked their magic. Karen sat beside him, wrapped protectively around his small form. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, her heart heavy with the weight of the day's events. The Chum Bucket was quiet now, the silence a stark contrast to the shouts and sobs that had filled it moments before. Karen's heart breaks for Plankton yet she knows Hanna's never met him, never heard of the accident nor diagnosis. With a sigh, she picked up the phone that lay on the end table and dialed Hanna's number. The line rang once, twice, three times before Hanna's voice filled the line. "Hello?" Karen took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she had to have. "Hanna, it's me," she said, her voice calm despite the whirlwind inside her. "I need to talk to you about what happened." Hanna's tone shifted immediately, concern lacing her words. "Is Plankton okay?" Karen's grip on the phone tightened. "No," she admitted, her voice a whisper. "He's asleep now, but he's not okay." Hanna's voice was a mix of shock and disbelief. "What do you mean?" Karen took another deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. "There was an accident," she began, her voice steady. "He hit his head and..." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Acquired Autism Spectrum Disorder." The line was silent for a moment before Hanna's voice came back, filled with horror. "Oh Neptune, I had no idea!" Karen's tentacles trembled slightly as she recounted the doctor's words, the diagnosis that had turned their world upside down. "It's permanent," she whispered. "They said his corpus callosum and cerebellum were damaged. He's...he's not the same, Hanna." On the phone, Hanna's voice was a mix of sympathy and confusion. "But why didn't you tell me sooner?" Karen's sigh was heavy with regret. "We've been dealing with this alone," she explained, her tentacle tracing patterns on the couch cushion. "It's so new, so overwhelming." Hanna's voice was gentle now, understanding in a way that made Karen feel less alone. "I'm so sorry, Karen," she said, her concern genuine. "I had no idea." Karen's eyes remained locked on Plankton's face, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "It's been a rollercoaster," she admitted, her voice tight. "But we're trying to make the best of it." Karen hangs up and turns her focus back to Plankton, his small body curled tightly under the blanket. She notices the way his antenna twitches as if he's dreaming. Her hands gently adjust the blanket, her touch feather-light against his skin. Plankton's face is a mask of peace in sleep, a stark contrast to the turmoil of the waking world. His snores are faint, a soothing rhythm that fills the otherwise silent room. Just as Karen begins to relax, the door to the Chum Bucket bursts open, letting in a rush of sunlight and SpongeBob's unmistakable laughter. "Plankton?" he calls out, his voice high and cheerful. Sponge Bob's entrance is a whirlwind of energy, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that hangs over the laboratory. He doesn't notice the tension in the air as he bounds towards the couch, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees Plankton's unusual position. "Whoa, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice a chirp of curiosity. "Looks like you're taking a siesta!" He laughs, not comprehending the depth of emotion that has just played out in the room. Karen looks up from her watchful vigil, her eyes tired but determined. "Sponge Bob," she says, keeping her voice steady, "Plankton's not feeling well." Sponge Bob's face falls, his cheerfulness dimming. "Oh no," he says, his concern genuine. He approaches the couch with caution, his eyes fixed on Plankton's peaceful form. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hushed. "Is he okay?" Karen's eyes meet Sponge Bob's, full of a sorrow he can't quite comprehend. "It's been a...difficult day," she says, her tentacles tightening slightly around Plankton. "He had an accident." Sponge Bob's expression shifts from confusion to alarm. "Is he going to be okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. Karen sighs, her tentacle stroking Plankton's forehead in a soothing motion. "He's just...different now," she says, her voice tight. Sponge Bob frowns, his bubbles popping with worry. "What kind of different?" Karen's expression is guarded, her eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "He's been diagnosed with... autism," she whispers, the word sounding foreign even to her. "Hey, I was born with idiopathic Autism!" Sponge Bob says. "Well Plankton's got an acquired form, it's a rarity," Karen explains to Sponge Bob, her voice barely a murmur so as not to disturb the sleeping Plankton. Sponge Bob nods slowly, his understanding of the situation deepening with each word. "So his accident gave him autism; when?" "Yesterday, when he hit his head on an invention." Sponge Bob's eyes widen with realization. "Oh," he says, his voice filled with sympathy. He sits down on the floor beside the couch. "It's okay, Karen," Sponge Bob says softly, his eyes full of understanding. "We'll figure this out together." Plankton stirs beneath the blanket, his small form shifting slightly. Karen's gaze snaps to him. "Plankton?" she whispers, her tentacles poised to comfort him if his distress resurfaces. But his eye remains closed, his breathing even. Sponge Bob's expression is thoughtful as he looks at the sleeping Plankton. "You know, Karen, being different isn't so bad," he says gently. "I mean, look at me." Karen's tentacles relax slightly as she looks at Sponge Bob, his optimism a balm to her weary spirit. Karen smiles. "Tell that to Hanna," Karen mutters to herself. "Who's Hanna?" "A friend," Karen explained, her voice still tight. "She came over today, didn't know about Plankton's diagnosis. She said things she shouldn't have." Sponge Bob's frown deepens. "What kind of things?" "She said he's a burden, that maybe I should put him in an institution," she whispers, her voice shaking with anger. Sponge Bob's face falls in shock. "That's not right, Karen," he says firmly. "You don't have to listen to her. What's an institution?" "It's a place where clinically crazy people are sent to rehabilitation be 'taken care of.' But it's not like that really for neurodivergent people. It's more like a...a prison where they deprive them, and often...never make it. But mostly it's for people who are violent, which isn't the case for..." Her voice trails off as Plankton stirs again, his antennae twitching slightly. Sponge Bob looks at Plankton, his eyes filled with compassion. "He's not going anywhere, Karen," he says firmly. "You guys are like family to me. I'll help you take care of him." Plankton's single eye opens slightly, his gaze unfocused. "Shh, it's okay," she whispers, her voice a soothing caress. Plankton blinks slowly, his eye coming into focus as he sees Sponge Bob. A smile spreads across his face, a rare expression of pure joy that lights up his features. His body uncoils from its tense curl, his antennae perking up with excitement. "Sponge Bob," Plankton whispers, his voice filled with a warmth that surprises Karen. He sits up slowly, his movements calculated to avoid any jolts to his sensitive system. Sponge Bob's face splits into a beaming smile, his eyes shining with joy. "Hey, Plankton!" He says. Plankton's gaze remains fixed on Sponge Bob, his expression a mixture of gratitude and comfort. "You're here," he says simply, his voice a rough whisper. Sponge Bob nods, his smile never wavering. "Of course I am," he says, his voice gentle. He reaches out a hand tentatively, his movements slow and deliberate. Plankton's antennae twitch, then he reaches out, his grip firm but not too tight. The two of them sit there, the silence comforting rather than oppressive. **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.*

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY vi (Autistic author) Plankton's sobs grew softer in Karen's embrace, his tiny body trembling with the weight of his emotions. "I-it's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae gently. "You can like jellyfish all you want, sweetheart." Sponge Bob watched from a distance, his heart heavy. He had never seen Plankton like this, vulnerable and hurt. He knew the two of them had their differences, but this was different. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, but the pain didn't leave his eye. Karen held him tight, filled with a fiery determination. "Plankton," she whispered soothingly. "You don't have to change who you are because of this." He pulled away slightly, his antennae drooping as he looked at her. "But what if jellyfish are all Plankton good for?" he murmured, his voice still monotone but filled with a depth of emotion that tugged at Karen's heartstrings. "Plankton, you're more than just jellyfish," Karen said, voice firm yet gentle. "You're a smart, resourceful, and determined little creature. You've always been so much more than that." The room was still, the only sound was Plankton's sniffs. His antennae drooped, and he looked up at her, his single eye red and puffy from crying. "But Karen," he whispered, his voice monotone yet filled with emotion, "it's all Plankton know now." Karen's eyes shone with empathy. "That's not true, darling," she said, her voice soothing. "You're capable of so much more. We just have to figure out how to navigate this new world together." Sponge Bob hovered awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he offered. Karen nodded, her tentacles tightening around Plankton. "Could you be with him while I admonish Patrick?" "Of course," Sponge Bob said, moving closer to Plankton. Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he nodded. "I'll be right outside," Karen said, her voice gentle. Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze focused on Plankton's small trembling form. "I've got him," he said, his eyes filled with understanding and a newfound respect for the tiny creature before him. As Karen left to talk to Patrick Sponge Bob sat down beside Plankton, his own heart aching for his friend's pain. He knew that Plankton was going through a difficult time, and he wanted to be there for him. Meanwhile, outside the Chum Bucket, Karen found Patrick still standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "Patrick," she began, her voice sharp, "You need to understand something." Patrick looked at her with his usual vacant stare. "What's up, Karen?" "You have to understand, Patrick," she began, her voice tight with tension. "Plankton's... he's different now." Patrick's smile faded as he met Karen's stern gaze. "Different?" Karen sighed, trying to find the words. "Plankton's had an... accident," she said. "It's changed him." Patrick's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean, changed?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain the complex situation in a way that would make sense to someone like Patrick. "Plankton's had a... a bump on the noggin," she said, her tentacles gesturing to her own head. "It's affected the way he thinks, the way he sees the world." Patrick's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, that's heavy, Karen," he said, his tone more serious than it had been in a long time. "Is he ok?" "Well, he's alive," Karen said, her voice tight with frustration. "But he's not the same, Patrick. He's... different." Patrick's smile faded as he took in her words, his eyes finally showing a glimmer of understanding. "What happened?" he asked, his tone serious for once. "It's complicated, Patrick," Karen said. "But the important thing is he's a new version of himself. So you can choose to be nice to him or just leave." Patrick's face fell, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. "But I didn't know, Karen," he protested, his voice small. "How was I supposed to know?" "It's not about knowing, Patrick," Karen said, her voice firm. "It's about being a good friend. And if you can't do that, then maybe it's time for you to rethink what friendship really means." Patrick's expression grew contemplative. "But Karen," he began, his voice tentative, "what if Plankton's... you know, not right in the head anymore?" "Patrick, that's not funny," she snapped. "This isn't a game. This is real life. And Plankton's life has changed in ways you can't even begin to understand." Patrick looked down at his feet, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of contemplation. "I didn't mean to be a jerk," he mumbled. "I know you didn't mean to," Karen said, her tone softening slightly. "But you need to be more considerate." Patrick nodded, his cheeks flushing. "I'll be nicer," he promised, his eyes darting to the Chum Bucket door. "Good," Karen said firmly, then turned back to the Chum Bucket. She opened the door to find Plankton still on the floor, clutching the jellyfish book. His antennae perked up as she entered. Sponge Bob looked up, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. "I think he's okay." Plankton sniffled, his antennae drooping. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his voice a monotone whisper. Karen's expression softened as she saw the pain in his eye. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, her tentacles reaching out to comfort him. "You don't have to be anything other than who you are." Sponge Bob nodded in agreement. "You're still the same Plankton we know and love."

ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY v (Autistic author) The door to the Chum Bucket creaked open, and Patrick Star waddled in, a quizzical expression on his face as he took in the scene before him. "What's with the library vibe?" he asked looking from the book-laden table to Plankton's intense gaze. Plankton looked up from the book, antennae stilling for a brief moment before he resumed his recitation of pi. "Pi, 3.14159265358979323846..." Patrick's eyes grew wide as he took in Plankton's intense focus and the unwavering rhythm of his voice. "Plankton, buddy, what's got you in such a tizzy?" he asked, his usual lazy drawl replaced with curiosity. Plankton's antennae twitched as he broke from recitation. Patrick looked at Plankton with genuine curiosity. "Patrick," Plankton said, his voice flat but his antennae twitching slightly. "Jellyfish club." Patrick blinked, his star-shaped pupils dilating in surprise. "Jellyfish club?" he echoed, his voice rising an octave. Karen nodded. "Yes, we were just talking about starting a jellyfish club," she explained, gesturing to the book. "Since Plankton's really interested in them now." Patrick looked from Karen to Plankton, then back again. "But Plankton, jellyfish sting," he said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Jellyfish sting," Plankton agreed, his voice still monotone. "But Plankton have plan. Jellyfish in jar." Patrick's eyebrows shot up. "Jellyfish in a jar? What's the point of that, buddy?" "Safe jellyfish," he murmured, his voice tight. "What's that supposed to mean, Plankton?" Patrick asked. "Mean jellyfish safe," he said, his voice a little less monotone. "In jar." Patrick chuckled, mistaking Plankton's seriousness for a joke. "Yeah, right, Plankton. You're not seriously gonna start a jellyfish club, are you?" The room's atmosphere shifted, and Plankton's antennae drooped slightly. "Why not?" he asked, his voice devoid of its earlier excitement. Patrick's chuckles died in his throat as he realized Plankton wasn't joking. "Well, I didn't mean to laugh," he said, his voice tinged with awkwardness. "It's just, jellyfish are kind of... boring, don't you think?" Plankton's antennae stiffened, and he closed the book with a thud. "Boring?" he echoed, his voice devoid of its previous enthusiasm. "It's just... jellyfish aren't exactly the most exciting creatures," Patrick said, trying to recover from his faux pas. "They just float around, right?" The room went quiet as Plankton's antennae drooped further, and he stared at Patrick, his eye unblinking. "Boring," he murmured, his voice a mix of hurt and disappointment. Patrick, not realizing the depth of Plankton's newfound interest continued, "I mean, come on, Plankton. There's more to life than jellyfish." Plankton's antennae stiffened, and he looked at Patrick with a mix of confusion and hurt. "Boring?" he echoed, his voice monotone yet filled with a hint of challenge. "Well, yeah," Patrick said, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean jellyfish are for tourists and little kids, right?" The words hung in the air like a thick fog, and the room grew tense as Plankton's antennae quivered with a mix of anger and hurt. "Patrick, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say," Karen said, her voice a gentle warning. But Patrick, oblivious to the tension building in the room, shrugged again. "I'm just saying, jellyfish aren't exactly the coolest things in the ocean, Plankton," he said, his voice still filled with cheerfulness. "Why don't you jus-" Plankton's antennae shot up, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Jellyfish cool," he said, his voice a monotone, but with a hint of steel. "Oh, come on, Plankton," Patrick said, waving a dismissive hand. "You're smarter than this. Why waste your time with jellyfish?" "Jellyfish interesting. Plankton like jellyfish." Karen stepped in, trying to smooth things over. "Patrick, Plankton's just found something that he really enjoys," she said. "We should support him in his new interest." But Patrick, still not grasping the gravity of the situation, chuckled. "Oh, Plankton, always so dramatic. It's just a phase. And you can't talk like that forever, right?" He then mimicked Plankton's flat tone saying, "Plankton wike jellyfish," which sent him into a fit of giggles. The room grew quiet as Plankton's antennae drooped, and a single tear formed at the corner of his eye, sliding down his face. "B-but, Plankton thought..." Plankton's voice broke as Patrick interrupts him again mimicking him. "B-but, Plankton thought," Patrick said, his voice a high-pitched parody of Plankton's monotone. "Jellyfish cool," he continued, his giggles echoing in the room. Plankton's antennae shot up. "Jellyfish cool," he repeated, his voice firm and unwavering. Patrick's giggles didn't stop, and he leaned closer to Sponge Bob, whispering, "Is he for real?" But Plankton's tears didn't fall in vain. The moment his sobs filled the room, the atmosphere shifted. Karen's with horror at the sight of her husband's pain, and she rushed over to him, wrapping around his tiny frame. "Plankton, no," she whispered, her voice filled with a motherly concern that was more powerful than any Krabby Patty recipe. Sponge Bob's expression grew solemn as he watched the scene unfold. He had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, so raw. The villain he knew was now a creature in pain, and his heart swelled with emotion. "Patrick, that's enough," she said, his voice firm. But the damage was done. Plankton's sobs grew louder, and he buried his face in Karen, his body trembling with the weight of his emotions. Karen glared at Patrick, her screen flashing with a fiery protectiveness that was uncharacteristic of her usual calm demeanor. "Patrick, you need to leave," she said, her voice a low hiss. "Now." Patrick, taken aback by the sudden shift in mood, backpedaled awkwardly. "But, I didn't mean to-" "Just go," Karen interrupted, her voice firm. "Outside. I'll talk to you in a moment." Patrick, still chuckling nervously, shuffled to the door. "But, I didn't mean to make him-" "Out!" Karen's voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. The urgency in her tone was clear, leaving no room for argument. Patrick, still looking confused, shrugged and waited outside.

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✦. ⊹ ˚ S T U D Y : 𖹭 ࣪ 𓈒 💻 𐄉 ⌨️ ✜ 🩶 ˚ 📼𓈒𐄉 ᝰ🖋️*˚🧾⟢ .☘︎ ݁˖⋆˚๋࣭⭑ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ🐾˖° *🎒 𓇼 ⋆･✏️๑ﾟ✧ 📚⊰ ⊹

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Luna ✈︎

School 😔 Schoo 😒 Scho 😞 Sch 😣 Sc 😩 S 😐 Su 😌 Sum 😏 Summ ☺ Summe 😄  Summer 😍

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