Playground Fatalities Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Playground Fatalities Emojis & Symbols ᴬˡʸˢˢᵃ ᶠᵃʸᵉ ᴬᵛⁱˡᵃᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ²⁷ ᴰᵉᶜ ²⁰⁰⁰ᴹᵒᵈᵉˢᵗᵒ⸴ ᔆᵗᵃⁿⁱˢˡᵃ

ᴬˡʸˢˢᵃ ᶠᵃʸᵉ ᴬᵛⁱˡᵃ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ²⁷ ᴰᵉᶜ ²⁰⁰⁰ ᴹᵒᵈᵉˢᵗᵒ⸴ ᔆᵗᵃⁿⁱˢˡᵃᵘˢ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᶜᵃˡⁱᶠᵒʳⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ¹⁹ ᴬᵘᵍ ²⁰¹⁰ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ⁹⁾ ᴹⁱᵃᵐⁱ⸴ ᴼᵗᵗᵃʷᵃ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᴼᵏˡᵃʰᵒᵐᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᵃᶜᵉᵈᵒⁿⁱᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᔆᵗᵉˡˡᵃ⸴ ᴺᵉʷᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᴹⁱˢˢᵒᵘʳⁱ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᵂʸᵃⁿᵈᵒᵗᵗᵉ⸴ ᴼᴷ⁻ᴬˡʸˢˢᵃ ᴬᵛⁱˡᵃ ᶜʰᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴬˡʸˢˢᵃ ᶠᵃʸᵉ ᴬᵛⁱˡᵃ⸴ ⁹⸴ ᵂʸᵃⁿᵈᵒᵗᵗᵉ⸴ ᴼᴷ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵃᵗ ³⠘⁵⁵ ᴾᴹ ᴬᵘᵍᵘˢᵗ ¹⁹⸴ ²⁰¹⁰ ᵃᵗ ᴹⁱᵃᵐⁱ ᴵⁿᵗᵉᵍʳⁱˢ ᴮᵃᵖᵗⁱˢᵗ ᴴᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ᴹⁱᵃᵐⁱ⸴ ᴼᴷ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ ˢᵘˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬˡʸˢˢᵃ ᶠᵃʸᵉ ᴬᵛⁱˡᵃ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ᴰᵉᶜᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ²⁷⸴ ²⁰⁰⁰ ⁱⁿ ᴹᵒᵈᵉˢᵗᵒ⸴ ᶜᴬ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᴿᵒⁿ ᴬᵛⁱˡᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃᵗʰʸ ⁽ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵇᵉˡˡ⁾ ᶜᵒˡˡⁱⁿˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ˢᵗᵘᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵂʸᵃⁿᵈᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴱˡᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃʳʸ ᔆᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵒ ᵐᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ‧
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‧

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WATSFORD name has been spelt Wadford, Watford, Wottsford, Whatford Уодфорд, Уотфорд, Уоттсфорд, Уотфорд Waterford, Walford, Wafford, Watsord, Whatford, Warford, Wattford, Watfor, Wadford, Watfordjr, Waford, O'watford Уотерфорд, Уолфорд, Ваффорд, Уотсорд, Уотфорд, Уорфорд, Уотфорд, Уотфор, Уодфорд, Уотфорджер, Уофорд, О'уотфорд H2O : Шарлотта Уоттсфорд ( Бриттани Бирнс ) Sárlott Vácfort Шарлотта Вотсфорд Шарлот Вотсфорд Шарлотту Вотсфорд Σαρλότου Βότσφορντ
ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᔆᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶜᵉ ᴵⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶠʳᵉᑫᵘᵉⁿᶜʸ ᴿᵃⁿᵏ ⁱⁿ ᴬʳᵉᵃ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ³⁵⁵ ¹⠘⁷⁶⸴⁰⁴⁴ ⁸⸴⁸⁹¹ ᴱⁿᵍˡᵃⁿᵈ ⁴ ¹⠘¹³⸴⁹²⁹⸴⁵¹⁵ ²⁹⁰⸴⁷¹⁸ ᵁⁿⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ ² ¹⠘¹⁸¹⸴²²⁹⸴⁴⁶⁶ ¹⸴⁵⁵⁶⸴⁷⁹⁵ ᶜᵃⁿᵃᵈᵃ ¹ ¹⠘³⁶⸴⁸⁴⁵⸴⁵⁹¹ ⁴⁶⁴⸴¹⁰⁸ ᴳᵉʳᵐᵃⁿʸ ¹ ¹⠘⁸⁰⸴⁵⁰⁵⸴⁴⁵⁹ ⁵⁶⁰⸴⁹⁵⁵ ᴴᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᴵˢ ᵀʰᵉ ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ? ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵘˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁷⁸⁰⸴³⁵²ⁿᵈ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ʷⁱᵈᵉˢᵖʳᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵍˡᵒᵇᵃˡ ˡᵉᵛᵉˡ⸴ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒˣⁱᵐᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ¹ ⁱⁿ ²⁰⸴⁰⁷⁵⸴⁸⁸⁴ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴼᶜᵉᵃⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁹⁸ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ; ⁹⁸ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡᵃˢⁱᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁹⁸ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴺᵉʷ ᶻᵉᵃˡᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ³⁵⁵ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵒʳ ¹ ⁱⁿ ⁷⁶⸴⁰⁴⁴‧ ᴵⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉⁿᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ⠘ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁷⁴ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ᑫᵘᵉᵉⁿˢˡᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹² ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹¹ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵂⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ⁴ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᴱⁿᵍˡᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵀʰᵉ ᵁⁿⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᴾᵒᵖᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵀʳᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳⁱᶜᵃˡ ᶠˡᵘᶜᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᑫᵘᵉⁿᶜʸ ᵒᶠ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ʰᵃˢ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵀʰᵉ ᵁⁿⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᵍʳᵉʷ ²⁰⁰ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ¹⁸⁸⁰ ᵃⁿᵈ ²⁰¹⁴‧ ᴾʰᵒⁿᵉᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᔆⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ᴺᵃᵐᵉˢ ᔆᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᔆⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵂᵒʳˡᵈʷⁱᵈᵉ ᴵⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴾʳᵉᵛᵃˡᵉⁿᶜʸ ᵂᵃᵗᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁹⁴ ⁴ / ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈᵗ ⁹⁴ ⁰ / ᴮᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸⁸ ⁹⁰² / ᵂᵃᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸⁸ ⁰ / ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸² ¹ / ᴮᵃᵗˢʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸² ⁰ / ᵂᵃᶜᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸⁰ ¹ / ᴮᵒᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷⁵ ²⸴⁴¹⁸ / ᴮᵃᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷⁵ ⁰ / ᵂᵒᵒᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷¹ ⁶¹² / ᴮᵃᵗᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷¹ ²³² / ᴮᵒᵗᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷¹ ³¹ / ᵂᵃᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ⁷¹ ¹ / ᴮᵒᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁶³ ¹⁸¹ / ᵂᵒʰᶻᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁶³ ¹ / ᴮᵃᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁶³ ⁰ / ᴮᵒᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵗ ⁶³ ⁰ / ᴮᵒᵗᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁵⁹ ¹⁷ / ᴮᵉᵃᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁵⁹ ² / ᴮᵒᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁵⁰ ⁰ /
☽🎾☽ALYSSA☽🎾☽ Aͫ lͤ yͬ sͫ sͣ aͥ ᵈ Ⓐ🔥ⓛ🔥ⓨ🔥ⓢ🔥ⓢ🔥ⓐ 🎾AӀվʂʂą
ᵂᴬᵀᔆᶠᴼᴿᴰ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ ᴴᵒˡˡᵒʷᵃʸ ᵂᴬᵀᔆᶠᴼᴿᴰ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ³ ᴺᵒᵛ ¹⁸⁸³ ᴹᵉˡᵇᵒᵘʳⁿᵉ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁷ ᶠᵉᵇ ¹⁹⁷⁴ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵉʳᵇᵘʳʸ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴶᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴬⁿⁿ ᴴᵒˡˡᵒʷᵃʸ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴶᵃⁿᵉ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁸⁴⁸ ⱽⁱˡᵃ⸴ ᶠⁱʲⁱ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ²⁸ ᴹᵃʸ ¹⁹³⁰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʳⁱⁿᵍʰᵃᵐ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴱˡⁱᶻᵃᵇᵉᵗʰ ᴶᵒⁿᵉˢ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴱᵐⁱˡʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ≤ ² ᔆᵉᵖ ¹⁸⁵⁷ ᴾᵃʳʳᵃᵐᵃᵗᵗᵃ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ³ ᴺᵒᵛ ¹⁸⁷⁸ ᴾᵃʳʳᵃᵐᵃᵗᵗᵃ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴴᵉⁿʳʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᴴᵃʳᵖᵉʳ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᶠˡᵒʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁸⁷⁵ ᔆʸᵈⁿᵉʸ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁰ ᔆᵉᵖᵗᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁹⁷² ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴸᵉᵒⁿᵃʳᵈˢ⸴ ᵂⁱˡˡᵒᵘᵍʰᵇʸ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴴᵉⁿʳʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴸᵒᵘⁱˢᵃ ᔆᵒᵖʰⁱᵃ ᴾᵉᵖᵖᵉʳ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴹʸʳᵃ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴹᵃʳʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁹¹³ ᴾᵃʳʳᵃᵐᵃᵗᵗᵃ ᴺᔆᵂ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁹⁸⁴ ᵂᵃʰʳᵒᵒⁿᵍᵃ ᴺᔆᵂ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴸᵃⁿᶜᵉˡᵒᵗ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴼˡⁱᵛᵉ ᴵ ᴹ ᴰᵒᵘᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴱ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ <¹⁸⁸³ ᴺᔆᵂ⸴ ᴬᵁᔆ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁹⁰⁷ ᴺᔆᵂ⸴ ᴬᵁᔆ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴹᵃʳʸ ᴹᵒˡᵒⁿᵉʸ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹³ ᴶᵘⁿ ¹⁹³¹ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ²⁹ ᴶᵘⁿ ¹⁹⁴³ ᴴᵒʳⁿˢᵇʸ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰⁱʳᵗᵉᵉⁿ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴳᵉᵒʳᵍᵉ ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜⁱˢ ᴺᵒᵉ̈ˡ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴰᵒʳᵒᵗʰʸ ᴹᵉˡᵛⁱˡˡᵉ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᴰᵒᵘᵍˡᵃˢ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁽²⁷ ᶠᵉᵇʳᵘᵃʳʸ ¹⁸⁷⁶ – ⁴ ᴰᵉᶜᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁹¹⁵⁾ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃⁿ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ ᶠᵒᵒᵗᵇᵃˡˡᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃⁿ ᶠᵒᵒᵗᵇᵃˡˡ ᴸᵉᵃᵍᵘᵉ ⁽ⱽᶠᴸ⁾‧
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✧・゚: *♡・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚♡ ♡ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ✧ ✧・゚: *♡・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚♡
────(♥)(♥)(♥)────(♥)(♥)(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ'ʀє αʟσηє, ──(♥)██████(♥)(♥)█████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɧα∂σѡ. ─(♥)████████(♥)████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ѡαηт тσ cʀƴ, ─(♥)██████████████████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɧσυʟ∂єʀ. ──(♥)████████████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ѡαηт α ɧυɢ, ────(♥)█████████████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ρɪʟʟσѡ. ──────(♥)█████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ηєє∂ тσ ɓє ɧαρρƴ, ────────(♥)█████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɱɪʟє. ─────────(♥)██(♥) ɓυт αηƴтɪɱє ƴσυ ηєє∂ α ƒʀɪєη∂, ───────────(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ʝυѕт ɓє ɱє.
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I ʜᴀᴅ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀʀʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ. Wᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ғᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ. Mʏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀʀʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪɴ ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴏғ sᴀᴅɴᴇss. Eᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ I ᴅᴜɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ's ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴛʀᴇᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅs ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡʜᴇɴ I sᴀᴡ ᴀ sᴛɪʟʟʙᴏʀɴ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪғɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡʙᴏʀɴ ᴡʜᴏ sʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ. I ᴛʜᴇɴ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ I ᴡᴀs ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀ ᴛᴡɪɴ ᴀs ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀ ʙɪʀᴛʜ.
T̴̲͙̩̍͗h̸̡͚̭͚̹̄̑ȩ̷̨̯̖̘̻̏̏͑͆̈́̓̃̋̇͘̕r̷͍̙͚͋̎̓͊̽̃̒̋̂̓̾͌̚e̷̙̘̰̅́̅́͘͜'̴̛̻̪̼̩̺̐s̵̢̖̼̥̣̤̙̖͙̙̽̓͊̾̋̈́ͅͅ ̸̛̯͖̰̖̭̪̼͓͉̤͂͆̑̓̉̆̌̂̋̄̑͊a̷̡͓̘̺͚͇̘̭̝͖̞̓̔͋̅́̚͠ ̸͕̘̦͈̪̱̥̥͚̘̤̹̭͙̔̐̾̂̏̿͘͝ͅs̵͚̖̱̀͂͆̃̀̎̓̆͌̽̀͘͠͝n̴̡̖̜͈̘͔͖̩̏̍͊̓̅͑̈́̆̊̕͝a̴̧̛̛̲̤̠̟̠̘͚̱̔̅ķ̵̡̛̛͉͚̜̙̥̠͚̘̼͑̎̄̈́͌̅͊͌̕e̶̼͓͕̗͜͝͝ ̶̨̡̛̞̦̉͌͗̓̾́͂͒͋̌̏̈́̉̀i̴̟̼͈̭͈̻̭̭͑͗̔̆͆́͝ͅͅň̶͚͚̻̬͎̝̤̜̥̱͙ ̶̨̢̞̻͇͙̻̻͚̝̻̃͛̒̒̂͊̋̉͛̈͌͆̅͠m̷̢̳͖̦̽̾̕͜ͅy̶̥̤̝̜͊̊̍̂͂͐̽̂̏́͘͘͜͜͝ ̴̨̟̣̰̔̽̽̊́̂͜b̸̌͗̿̂̀ͅơ̸̧̡̨̰͖͇̟͛̅̈́͐̀ͅo̵̹̦̟̞̘̙̩̻̣͖̲͒͐̄͋̌̃t̵̑͝ͅ.̴̤̻͈̙̠͔͇̫͇́ͅ ̸̢̛͕͖͉̣̫̜̔̑͋̈́̊̍̓͛̑̔̈́̐͝
ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵀᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵀᵒᵘʳⁱˢᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳⁱᶜʰ ʳᵉᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵀʳᵃⁱˡ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵃˣ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᶠ‧ ᴷᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᴬ ⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵒⁿᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧” ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵍᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ⸴ ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ‘ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ’ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ʷⁱⁿᵈʸ ᵃᵘᵗᵘᵐⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ⸴ ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ⁱᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ⸴ ᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈᵃᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ; ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴰᵃⁿ ᵂⁱˡˢᵒⁿ⠘ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴬ ˡᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴬˡᵒʸˢⁱᵘˢ⸴ ᴱᵈʷⁱⁿᵃ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴺᵃᵗʰᵃⁿⁱᵃˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᴵ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵉ? ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ⠘ ᴰᵉᵃʳ ᴮʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴬᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵂⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴼᵘʳ ᴮᵃᵇʸ – ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ⸴ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁵⁰ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ ᵒʷᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧
🌒 🌑 🌘 🐾 🐱 🐾 🌒 🌑 🌘
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ᴾᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃᵈᵉ ᶠᵃʳᵉʷᵉˡˡ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧‧‧ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧
❤️🦇🧛‍♀️❤️🧛‍♀️🦇❤️
♡🥛🍪°••°🍪🥛♡
🍫🌸🍫🌸🍫🌸🍫🌸🍫
💙 🐕 💛 🐶 💙 🐶 💛 🐕 💙
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⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢛⠩⢤⣶⡤⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡇⠺⠏⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠻⣿⠟⠀⢚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⢛⣛⣛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣄⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣉⠥⢤⣬⣀⣉⣙⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡡⠶⡟⠋⣭⠛⡟⠛⠿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣡⠆⠁⠀⢠⡟⡝⣩⡍⡛⡟⠙⠲⢄⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢡⣤⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣠⡀⠀⠹⢦⣤⡴⠃⠀⢔⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⡉⠁⠀⠀⠘⣧⡁⠉⠅⣡⠇⠀⠀⢀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⢩⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣔⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣛⡻ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠁⠀⣀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣮⣥ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⡁⣀⣈⣩⠝⢉⡻⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⡭⢤⣶⣬⠽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣥⠀⠙⠿⠃⢀⣲⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⣀⣉⡛⠻ ⣿⣄⣀⡛⠁⢀⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⡀⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⡀⠐⠀⡴⢋⡉⢿⡁ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣤⠤⠤⣤⡤⣀⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⢧⣈⣍⡸⠃ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⣾⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠛⢀⡇⠀⠈⢙⣷⣿⣿⣷⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴ ⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣟⣚⣀⣀⣀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠀⢀⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⣾⣿ ⡿⠋⠤⠶⠀⢀⡙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿ ⠀⡴⡻⡋⠓⡄⠈⠉⠒⣝⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⣉⣤⣤⣤⣀⡉⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣸⣿⣿ ⠀⢧⡁⠛⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⢈⡼⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⡿⠃⠐⢉⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠂⠠⢤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣶⢾⠛⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠐⢀⠔⠋⠁⢰⡟⠡⢒⣒⠤⡄⣀⣀⣀⠉⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣶⣦⡄⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣊⠑⠲⠚⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⢴⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠃⠹⠿⢁⢁⣿⠀⠀⠉⠹⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣑⣈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠶⣤⣥⠤⠞⠃⠀⠀⠐⠀⣪⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡄⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⢴⣶⠊⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣦⣬⡁⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣴⣾⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠋⠙⢋⣛⣛ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⣁⣤⡤⠦⠀⠤⢤⣄⣀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣤⣤⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⢀⢠⠴⣶⣭⣭⣯⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢁⠴⠋⠁⡞⠀⢢⣤⡄⡀⢳⠈⠙⠷⣤⡀⠉⢻⣿⣿⣽⠀⠈⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣄⣬⠿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠈⠉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⠄⠀⠀⠀⢧⡀⠘⠛⡃⢁⡾⠀⠀⠀⠈⠟⢶⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡇⢀⢀⡼⠞⠉⣠⣤⠴⠶⠶⠤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⠤⠴⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⣴⡽⠋⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠈⠙⢦⡀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣧⣪⣦⣀⣀⠀⠀⢂⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⡾⠋⠁⠀⢠⡟⠀⢀⠜⢀⣠⣀⠈⢤⠀⠈⣷⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡕⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⡟⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠈⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⠄⠀⣿⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠢⡈⠛⠋⢀⡔⠀⠀⡟⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢣⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⣄⠀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⡟⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠲⠶⠶⠒⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⠷⠒⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⢠⡤⠀⠀⣀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣀⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⢠ ⣿⣁⡤⠎⠁⠀⠀⡞⠀⣵⡇⡌⡇⠉⠐⠠⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠱⣄⡉⣁⡱⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠪⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠛⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⣀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⢀⣴⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠈⢿⣷⠒⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣀⣤⣤⣀⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿
⁽⁽ʚ( つ‸ ◟)ɞ⁾⁾ ⚬˚。°
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⡑⠌⡨⠐⡀⠂⠌⡀⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⠠⢁⠂⠔⢀⠂⡐⠄⠡⢈⠐⡀⢿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡟⠀⡁⢺⣿⠀⢰⣿⣿⣟⠁⢀⣿⡀⢠⣿⠏⠙⠉⢹⣿⡀⢰⣿⠉⡀⠂⠹⣿⡀⢠⣿⣆⠀⢀⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣿⣿⡀⠸⣿⡆⡐⠠⠁⠌⡐⢀⠊⠄⠂⡁⠂⠌⠠⠡⠘⠠⢁⠒⠠⠑⠠⠀⠌⠠⠁⡌⠈⠄ ⡱⠈⡄⠡⢀⠡⢂⠐⠡⢈⠐⠂⠌⡐⠠⢈⠐⡀⠆⠐⡈⠐⡀⠆⠐⠸⣿⣦⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⠐⡀⠉⣿⣶⣾⡟⢸⣿⣦⣾⣿⣧⣾⡟⠀⠌⠐⡀⢿⣷⣿⠏⠠⢀⠁⢂⢻⣷⣾⡿⢿⣿⣿⠿⠻⣿⣦⣤⣴⣶⣿⡿⠋⢿⣷⣤⣿⠏⠀⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⠈⠄⠡⢀⠡⠌⠠⠁⠌⡐⢀⠂⠡⠈⠄⡑⠈⠄⠡⢀⠡⠂ ⢆⠡⡐⢁⠂⡐⠠⢈⠐⠠⢈⠂⡐⠠⢁⠂⡐⠠⠌⡐⠠⢁⠐⡀⢃⠠⠙⠛⠋⠉⢈⠁⠄⡐⢀⠂⠄⡁⢈⠛⠋⠠⢀⠉⠛⠋⢈⠛⠛⡀⠌⠠⢁⠠⢈⠉⢁⠂⡁⠄⡈⠄⠠⠙⠋⠄⠠⠉⡁⠄⠠⠉⠛⠛⠛⡉⢁⠠⠐⠈⠹⠟⠋⠠⢁⠂⠌⠠⠈⠄⡑⢈⠐⡀⠂⠌⠠⠑⠠⠐⢂⠈⠡⢈⠐⠠⠁⠌⠂⡄⢂⠁ ⠎⡐⠌⡀⢂⠐⡁⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡈⠐⡠⢀⠁⢂⠐⡀⢂⠐⡀⠆⢈⠐⠠⢈⠐⢀⠂⡈⠄⠰⠀⢂⠁⠂⠤⠈⠄⡁⠂⠌⡐⠠⢀⠁⠂⠄⠂⠌⢀⠐⠠⠐⠠⢀⡁⠢⠁⠌⠠⢁⠠⢀⠡⢀⠡⠈⡐⢀⠂⠄⠡⠈⠄⡐⢈⠐⠠⠈⠄⠡⢈⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⢁⠊⠄⠡⢈⠐⡠⢈⠁⠂⠌⢠⠁⠌⡐⠠⠈⠄ ⢣⠐⢌⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⡈⠁⠄⠂⠌⡀⢂⠐⡀⠂⠄⡐⠀⠂⢁⠠⢈⠠⠐⡀⠌⠐⡈⡀⠌⠐⠠⠈⠄⠠⡁⢂⠐⡀⠂⠌⠐⣨⣤⣶⣶⣾⣶⣶⣥⡀⠄⡠⠁⠂⡁⠠⢀⠂⢀⠂⡀⠂⠄⢂⠠⠈⠄⡁⠂⠄⢂⠈⠄⠡⢈⠐⡠⢈⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⡈⠄⡁⠢⠐⡀⠂⠌⣈⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⠁⠌⡀ ⡃⠌⢂⡐⠄⡈⡐⢀⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⡐⢀⠂⠄⡡⠈⡐⠠⢐⣀⠂⡐⠈⡐⠀⡈⢰⣤⠐⢠⡀⠡⠀⣢⣧⡀⠐⠠⠁⢂⣱⣬⡀⠐⡀⠂⠄⠡⠈⢼⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠙⠛⢻⣿⡀⠐⠠⠁⣠⡁⢀⠂⠄⠐⢀⠐⣠⣆⠀⡁⢂⣤⡁⠂⢂⠈⠄⡁⢂⣰⣤⣂⡌⠐⠠⢈⠐⡀⠂⢄⠁⢂⠤⠁⠂⢄⠈⠰⠀⠌⠠⡁⠂⠄ ⡱⢈⠂⠄⢂⠐⡀⠂⠌⡐⢀⠢⠐⡀⠂⠌⡐⢀⠐⡀⣡⣿⣿⣧⡠⣵⣷⣄⢨⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡀⢲⣿⢿⣷⠁⠠⣡⣿⣿⢻⣿⡔⢀⠡⠈⡐⠈⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣿⡇⠁⢂⣾⣿⣿⣆⢤⣾⣧⡀⣼⡿⣿⣦⣐⣾⡿⣿⣷⡆⣨⣴⣾⣿⠿⠿⠿⣿⡌⠐⡀⠂⠄⡁⠂⠌⡀⠂⠌⡁⠂⠌⢠⠁⠌⡐⠠⢁⠂ ⡅⢂⠡⠌⡀⠂⠤⠁⢂⠐⠄⢂⠐⠠⢁⠂⠄⢂⠐⣀⣿⡏⠈⣿⣿⡿⠻⣿⣿⡿⠀⢻⠁⢿⣷⣸⣿⠈⣿⣏⣴⣿⠟⠀⠀⢻⣿⠀⠠⢁⠐⠈⡘⢿⣷⣾⠀⠀⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠡⢸⣿⠁⢹⣿⣿⠟⢻⣷⣿⠇⠘⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡐⠠⢁⠂⠄⠡⠒⠠⢁⠂⠄⠡⠈⠄⡈⠐⠠⢁⠂⠄ ⡜⢀⠒⠠⠄⡁⢂⠘⠠⢈⠐⠂⠌⢂⠐⡈⠐⡀⢂⢸⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⠃⠀⣹⣿⠃⠀⣼⠀⢈⣿⣿⡇⠀⢹⣿⡿⠃⠀⢀⠀⢹⣿⡀⢁⠂⡈⠐⡀⠌⣿⡏⠀⢸⣿⠀⠄⡐⠈⠄⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⡟⠀⢈⣿⡿⠀⢀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠁⠀⠀⢴⣶⣶⣶⣾⡿⠀⠂⠄⡈⠄⠃⣈⠐⠠⠈⠄⡑⢈⠐⠠⠑⡀⠆⡈⠄ ⠆⡌⠌⡐⠠⠐⢂⢈⠐⡀⢊⠐⡈⠄⠂⠄⠡⠐⡀⣿⡇⠀⢸⣿⠏⠀⠀⣿⡟⠀⢠⣟⠀⢸⣿⣿⠇⠀⣸⡿⠁⠀⣴⣿⣇⠀⢿⣧⠂⡐⠠⢁⠀⢢⣿⠃⠀⣾⡏⠈⠄⡐⠈⢰⣿⠁⠀⣿⡿⠁⠀⢸⣿⠇⠀⣼⡟⠀⢀⣧⠀⢸⣿⣄⡀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡍⠉⠄⠂⡁⢂⠐⡈⠐⠠⠈⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⠈⠄⠡⠐⠠⠐⠂ ⠎⡐⠰⢀⠡⠈⠄⢂⠐⡈⠄⢂⠐⡈⢐⠈⠤⢁⢠⣿⠇⠀⣿⡏⠀⠀⢰⡿⠁⠀⣾⡇⠀⠘⠉⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⠀⣾⣿⣽⣿⠀⢸⣿⢀⠐⡀⣂⣬⣼⡟⠀⢠⣿⣇⠈⡐⠀⠡⢸⣿⠀⢰⣿⠃⠀⠀⢼⡟⠀⢠⣿⠁⠀⠚⠛⠃⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⢽⣿⣄⡌⠐⣀⠂⡐⠠⠁⠌⠠⡁⠄⡡⠈⠄⡉⠄⢡⠈⠡⠈⠄ ⢣⠐⣁⠂⠄⢡⠈⠄⢂⠐⡈⠄⠂⠌⢠⠈⡐⠠⢸⣿⡀⠀⠋⠀⢀⣶⠀⠁⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠀⣠⡆⠀⢰⣿⠀⠸⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⢸⣿⠀⢂⢰⣿⠿⠟⠃⠀⠘⠻⣿⡦⢀⠁⠂⢿⣯⠀⠘⠁⠀⢸⡄⠈⠀⢀⣾⡏⠀⣸⣀⣀⡄⠀⣾⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⣼⡟⠿⣿⡆⢀⠂⠄⠡⠈⠌⡐⢀⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⡈⠄⡈⠡⠈⠄ ⣃⠰⢀⠌⡐⠠⢈⠰⠀⢂⠐⡈⠐⠌⠠⠐⠠⢁⠀⣿⣇⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡆⠀⢠⣿⣿⠀⠀⣾⣿⣇⠀⣸⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⠏⠡⢀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣾⡇⠃⡈⠄⠺⣿⡄⠀⢀⣴⣿⣷⠀⠀⣼⣿⡄⠐⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⠀⠀⣿⡇⠂⠌⠠⠁⡌⠐⡀⠢⠈⠄⡁⢂⠐⡀⠂⠄⡡⠈⠄ ⡐⠢⢁⠂⠄⡁⠂⠤⢁⠂⡐⠄⠡⠈⠄⡁⠢⢀⠂⡘⢿⣷⣿⡿⠏⢹⣿⣶⣿⠟⢿⣷⣾⡿⠙⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣷⣶⣶⣾⣿⠿⠋⠠⠁⠄⡈⢿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⠂⡐⢀⠂⠻⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⢿⣷⣾⡿⢻⣷⣾⡿⠘⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⠟⣿⣧⣾⡿⢁⠈⠄⡁⠂⠄⢡⠀⠅⡈⠔⢀⠂⠰⢀⠁⠂⡄⢁⠂ ⠥⠑⡠⠌⡐⠠⢁⠂⠄⠒⠠⠈⠄⢃⠐⠠⢁⠂⡐⠠⢀⠉⡉⠄⠂⠄⡉⠩⠁⠄⡈⠙⠋⢁⠐⡈⢉⠁⡐⠈⡉⠙⠋⢉⠠⠐⠠⠁⠌⠠⠐⡈⢉⠉⡁⠠⢀⠀⠄⢂⠐⡀⠂⠤⠁⡈⠉⡁⢀⠐⡈⠙⠉⡐⠠⢉⠉⠄⢂⠈⠙⢉⠀⡙⠛⠉⠄⢂⠈⠛⠛⡁⠄⡈⠐⠠⠁⠌⡀⠂⠔⠠⠌⠠⢈⠐⠠⠘⠠⠐⡀⠂ ⡌⢡⠐⠠⠄⡁⠂⠌⠠⢁⠂⠡⠈⠄⡘⢀⠂⡐⠠⢁⠂⠡⠐⡈⠐⡐⠈⠄⡁⠂⠄⠡⠈⠄⢂⠐⡀⠂⠄⠡⢀⠡⠈⠄⠂⡁⢂⠡⠈⠄⠡⠐⡀⠂⠄⡁⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⠄⡁⢂⠡⢀⠡⠐⡀⠂⠄⡁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠈⡐⠠⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⡈⠐⡈⠠⠈⢄⠡⢀⠂⠄⡁⢂⠁⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⡈⠐⠠⠘⡀⢁⠂⠡⢀⠡ ⡜⠠⡘⢀⠂⠄⠃⠌⡐⠠⢈⠡⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⠠⢁⠂⠌⡐⠁⠄⠡⢀⠁⠂⠄⠡⠈⠄⠡⠈⠄⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⡀⠂⠡⢈⠐⠠⢀⠂⠌⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⡈⠠⠁⠄⡁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠁⠄⠂⠄⡁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡈⠐⠠⠁⡁⠂⠄⢂⠈⡐⢀⠂⠌⠡⠘⡀⢂⠂⠡⢈⠁⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⡀⠂ ⢆⠡⠐⠄⢊⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡀⠂⠌⠠⢈⠐⢂⠈⡐⠠⠁⢌⠠⠁⠌⡐⠈⠄⢡⠈⠄⠡⢈⠐⡈⠐⡀⠂⠄⠡⢁⠂⠌⡐⠠⠈⠄⡁⢂⠈⠄⠠⢁⠂⡐⠠⢈⠄⡁⢂⠐⡈⠄⢠⠁⠌⡐⠠⢁⠂⡐⠠⠈⠄⡁⢂⠄⠡⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⡁⢂⠡⢀⠡⠈⠄⢂⠐⠠⠈⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⢈⠁⠂⠌⡈⠄⣁⠂⠂⠌⡐ ⢊⠤⢉⡐⢀⠂⠄⣈⠐⡀⢂⡐⢈⠐⡈⢁⠂⠌⡀⢂⠁⢂⢁⠂⠄⡉⠐⠠⢉⠐⠠⠈⡄⢁⠂⠌⡀⢡⠀⡉⠠⢁⠂⡈⢐⠠⠁⠌⡐⢀⠂⠌⠠⢁⠂⡐⠠⢁⠂⡐⢀⠂⡐⢠⠈⠄⡈⡐⠠⢁⠂⡐⠠⠁⡌⠐⡀⠂⠌⡐⠀⠆⡐⠠⠈⠄⢂⠐⠂⠌⡈⠰⠀⠌⡁⠌⡐⠈⢄⡈⠄⠡⡈⠌⡐⢀⠂⠄⢂⠁⢂⠄ ⣃⠐⠂⡄⠂⠌⡐⠠⠐⡀⠂⠄⢂⡐⢀⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⠌⡀⠂⠌⡐⠠⢁⠂⢄⡈⠄⠡⢀⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⡐⠠⢁⠂⠰⢀⠢⠀⠅⢂⡐⠠⠈⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⠁⠄⢂⠐⠂⠌⡀⠂⠌⡐⠠⠄⡁⢂⠰⢀⠁⠂⡄⠡⢀⠡⠂⠄⡁⠂⠄⠡⢈⠐⠠⡈⠐⡐⠠⢁⠌⡐⠀⠆⠠⢁⠂⠄⢨⠐⡀⢂⠐⡈⠄⠌⠠⠌⡀⠂ ⣂⠩⠐⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⠂⠄⠡⡈⠄⡀⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⠌⡐⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⠂⠌⠠⠀⠌⡐⠠⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⠠⢁⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⠡⠌⠠⢀⠂⡁⠂⠔⠠⠈⠄⠡⠈⠄⡈⠔⠠⢀⠡⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡀⠢⠀⡌⠐⠠⢁⠂⠤⢁⠂⠄⡡⠈⠔⡈⠄⠡⠀⠅⠠⢁⠂⠄⡠⠁⠌⡐⠠⢈⠐⡀⢂⠐⡀⢂⠰⠈⠄⡁⠂⠄⡁ ⡤⢁⡉⠔⠠⢈⠐⠠⠁⠌⡐⢀⠂⠤⢁⠂⡐⠠⢈⠐⡀⠢⠄⡈⠐⠠⠁⠌⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡀⠆⠈⠔⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⠌⡐⢈⠐⠄⠂⠄⠡⠂⠡⠈⠄⠡⢈⡐⠄⠌⡐⠂⠤⠁⠂⠔⡀⠂⠄⡁⠆⠠⢁⠒⠠⢈⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⢁⠂⡐⠈⠄⡁⢊⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡀⠆⢂⠐⠠⢂⠁⠂⠄⡁⠂⠄ ⡔⢂⠰⢈⠐⠠⠈⠄⡁⢂⠐⠄⡈⠐⡀⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⠁⠂⠄⠃⡐⠡⢈⠐⠂⠌⡐⢀⠂⢂⠐⠠⢁⠂⡁⢂⠐⠠⢈⠐⡀⠆⡈⠄⠡⠈⠄⡁⢂⠡⢈⠐⠠⠐⡈⠐⠠⢁⠂⠡⠘⡀⠄⡁⢂⠐⡈⠐⠠⠌⠐⠠⠘⡀⠆⡈⠔⡀⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⠄⠨⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⢈⠐⡀⠢⠐⡀⢂⠂⠌⡐⠠⢈⠒⢀⠂⡁⠂ ⡒⣈⠐⠂⠌⠠⠑⠠⠐⡈⠄⠂⠄⢃⠠⠁⠒⢀⠂⠌⠠⠑⡈⠄⠡⠐⡀⠂⠌⡐⠠⠐⠠⠈⠄⡈⠂⠄⢂⠁⠂⠌⡐⠠⠈⠄⠒⠠⠘⢀⠁⢂⠐⡀⠂⠄⡈⠄⠡⢀⠃⡐⠂⡈⠄⠡⠐⡐⠠⠁⠂⠄⡉⠐⡈⠐⡁⢂⠐⠠⠐⠠⠐⡁⢂⠐⡈⠄⠊⠄⡑⠈⠄⡈⢂⠁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⢁⠂⠌⡀⢂⠐⡁ 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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‧
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⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢬⢓⣬⢣⡝⣬⢳⡌⠷⡌⠶⡑⢮⠰⠡⠎⠴⢢⠕⢦⢃⠖⡰⢢⠜⡰⢤⢒⠌⡰⢁⢆⠲⡰⢆⡲⢤⠠⢀⠠⠤⢆⠔⣢⠔⡦⣔⢢⠆⡅⢒⢀⡂⢆⠄ ⡀⣢⣠⣠⣤⣴⣬⣶⣭⣮⣽⣶⣭⣞⡼⣡⠗⣜⠣⡜⠡⢁⠂⢁⠁⠈⣄⣡⣾⣤⣯⣦⣷⣦⣽⣴⣇⣊⡠⠁⠁⠊⢖⡙⢮⢱⢣⡍⢇⣊⣖⣭⣾⣵⣿⣷⣿⣷⣿⣼⣦⣖⣈⠜⠤ ⣴⣿⡿⣟⣛⠛⠻⡉⠉⠉⠛⢛⡻⠻⢿⣿⣿⣼⠳⡴⢡⠀⠡⢀⣼⣿⡿⠿⣟⡛⠋⠙⣏⠉⠉⠛⡻⠻⢿⣷⣎⡡⢂⡘⢠⢍⢲⣾⣾⣿⠿⠻⢟⡋⠉⠉⠙⡻⠛⠛⠛⠻⣿⣷⠁ ⡿⣿⣤⡀⠈⠉⠙⢓⡶⠶⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⢻⣿⠳⡥⢃⡌⠠⠘⣿⡗⠀⠀⠀⢈⣹⠶⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢺⣿⠇⢉⡁⠃⠌⡙⣿⡓⠂⠀⠀⣀⣩⠷⠶⠪⡀⠀⠀⠀⣐⣾⢿⢰ ⡗⠎⡍⠿⡛⣻⡾⠥⠤⢤⡤⠷⣤⡴⠶⢛⠛⠭⠓⠍⠣⠌⡇⠆⠀⠉⠓⠲⠮⠥⢄⣀⣧⠤⢤⠼⠷⠒⠛⢉⣀⡀⠣⣌⢱⡞⢓⠩⣍⠓⠾⢿⠶⠮⠤⡤⠶⣾⣶⢿⢿⡝⣠⠈⣼ ⣧⣼⣤⣧⣤⣀⡈⠐⠀⠂⠄⠑⠘⢈⣡⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣅⣀⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣦⣶⣿⣶⣮⣤⣄⣀⢀⡉⡤⢢⣹⣴⣼⣷⣾⣭⣶⣭⣷⣨⣔⠊⡄⠦⠤⡁⣘⣌⣨⣦⣤⣶⣶⣾ ⢏⣭⡽⠋⢋⣛⣻⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠰⢿⡋⠛⠻⣯⣍⠛⠉⠛⢿⡇⠀⠀⠈⣿⠋⠙⠒⣤⡤⠀⠉⠉⢻⣧⢣⣍⠷⣿⠟⠉⢉⣻⣤⠛⠉⠛⣹⣷⠁⡎⡱⢂⢽⣿⣛⢋⠙⣹⠿⠉⣽ ⣛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣉⠉⠉⠑⡊⢹⣏⣩⣍⣴⣤⣤⣦⣼⣿⣶⣿⣶⣷⣶⣷⡿⣯⣿⣟⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⡞⢩⡙⣭⣥⣀⣀⣀⣀⠭⠀⡌⢉⠩⡉⠛⠙⣉⣛ ⣛⣛⡻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢿⣟⣻⣿⣛⣹⣿⣷⣔⣯⣿⣿⣛⣻⣟⣻⣻⣿⣿⣿⣯⣉⣿⣏⣉⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣻⣿⣙⣻⣿⡁⢈⠒⢿⣛⣉⡿⣍⡝⣿⢟⠀⠀⠊⠐⠀⠼⡛⠱⣿ ⣷⡶⢄⡢⠄⡤⢂⡅⣾⣿⣿⣻⣾⣟⡶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣻⣟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⡏⡾⠿⣿⣿⣻⠷⠂⠀⠀⠰⣾⣿⣟⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠴⠒⢿ ⠶⡹⢦⢯⡹⣜⡳⡞⡽⡿⣯⡿⣿⢮⢷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠛⢻⣿⠏⠀⠀⢻⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠑⡩⠚⠦⠳⡡⢳⡙⠧⣙⠦⠙⠄⠋⣧⣋⠟⢻⠏⢋⡝⣇⣊⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⡯⠛⠐⠋⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⣌⣦⣾⣼⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠻⣇⣶⢔⣦⡀⠀⣤⣀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⣶⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣿⢿⢉⣾⣿⢦⠙⢿⣶⣯⣙⢶⠿⠿⠄⢀⣸⢿⣷⠆⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣶⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣓⣛⢛⣁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠷⣿⣷⣻⣀⣨⣻⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⠿⠿⣀⣛⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠻⣾⣿⣿⣷⣄⣺⠿⠾⡿⠿⡟⣀⣀⣘⣻⣿⡿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢘⠒⠓⡛ ⡶⢶⡿⣷⣿⣴⡲⢦⣤⢶⣿⣿⣶⣬⣽⣾⣿⣿⠿⡿⢿⣷⣦⣮⣵⡿⢟⠀⠀⠻⢦⣤⣯⣭⣿⢷⠀⠘⢿⣶⣾⣽⣿⡿⠇⠀⠀⠻⠷⢶⣯⣽⣿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⠘⠷⠶⠶⠿⠷ ⡷⠷⠖⣓⣺⣟⣻⠷⢿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠗⢛⣶⣓⡞⢦⣄⠀⠁⠊⣤⡖⠒⠂⠉⣏⣙⣛⡒⢦⣀⠀⠘⢬⣦⠖⠖⠲⣖⣒⣖⡦⣤⣤⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡴⠲⠒⠶⣖⣶⣲⣶⣀ ⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡿⡿⣏⠷⣍⠾⡹⢿⣶⣶⣴⣤⣶⣶⣶⠾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣶⣦⣤⣧⣤⣶⡶⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠻⠷⣶⣶⣤⣴⣶⣶⡶⠟⠀⠀⡀⡀⠛⠿⠷⣶⣶⣶⣴⣴⣶⣾ ⡇⠟⠖⠖⣒⡚⣿⣒⣵⣘⣲⠭⢦⣧⣅⣆⣂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠴⠾⠾⡿⠯⠴⢤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣀⣂⣒⣢⣕⡴⢦⣥⣎⣀⣁⠂⠚⢲⣲⠂⠀⠀ ⠇⠆⢃⣵⣿⡟⠉⠉⠙⢀⣤⣖⣉⡤⢬⣁⠉⢳⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣖⡉⠁⠈⠂⠀⢠⡧⡠⢤⠬⠥⠬⠽⢶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡏⠁⠁⠀⠈⠱⣤⢄⡨⠭⠭⠽⠳⢶⣤⠀⠁⠀ ⠀⠂⠈⣿⣦⣾⣀⣀⣴⠊⠀⣀⣀⣐⣤⣴⣶⡿⠃⠀⡀⢀⢀⡀⢻⣷⣦⣤⣔⣀⡀⠀⣆⣀⣀⣘⣦⣤⣶⠿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣦⣤⣔⣂⣀⣀⣈⠳⣄⣀⣈⣶⣼⡿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠣⣁⠋⢆⡁⢎⡈⡙⢛⠻⡿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⡉⢁⠂⠆⠰⢀⠁⠀⠠⠄⠀⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⡛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠈⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠠⠉⠤⢰⠀⢆⡡⢌⡐⣄⣠⡐⡐⡂⡂⡀⢂⠐⠠⡈⠆⠱⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⡡⠐⡉⠄⢃⠂⡁ ⠄⠊⡐⡁⡀⢀⠠⠀⡀⠄⡀⠄⠡⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⡙⠔⣃⠾⠤⠜⠂⠘⠈⠉⠙⡟⠙⠙⠙⠙⠚⠠⠴⣌⠒⡀⠆⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠂⢀⠀⠁⠐⣈⣠⠤⠤
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⢃⢺⠐⠐⠐⠠⠀⠄⠄⠠⠐⠀⠖⠒⠂⠐⠐⠒⠒⠁⠃⠡⠠⠀⠄⠌⠊⠚⠉⠓⠐⠂⠄⠄⠔⠐⠒⠐⠂⠒⠒⠂⠒⠂⠦⠤⠤⣤⣪⠀ ⢳⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣛⠅ ⣯⢡⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⢍⣆ ⣦⡎⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⠤⠔⠃⠈⡂⠀⣳⡅ ⢐⡇⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⠀⣓⡧ ⣮⠇⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⠒⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⡚⣕ ⣬⡃⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡤⠤⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠊⠀⠀⡊⣽ ⣹⡅⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣆⠔⠀⠒⠒⠊⠃⠒⠒⠤⣊⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠒⠁⠀⠀⠀⣿⡂ ⣿⡂⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⡰⠂⠀⠀⠋⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠈⠓⠀⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⢀⠖⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢞⠦ ⣞⠄⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀⢐⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⡠⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠽⣧ ⣻⡆⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣒⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⢸⡟ ⣿⡇⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣯⡾⡟⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⣖⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⢨⣿ ⣹⡇⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠁⠀⠀⠀⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣝⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣛⣇⣷⣂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⢾⡗ ⣻⡇⡇⠀⢀⣀⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢳⣼⠴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⠚⡯ ⣿⡃⡃⡸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡅⠀⠀⠀⣤⣄⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⠅⡢ ⣼⠖⡃⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠢⡀⠀⠀⠈⠿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⡤⣄⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄⠀⠀⠀⢐⣁⠦ ⣷⠂⡃⠳⣄⡀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣠⠎⠈⠢⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⡇⠀⢙⡍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠁⠀⠀⠀⢐⣇⠅ ⣻⠃⡇⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠈⣰⠂⢂⠀⠄⠠⠙⡢⢞⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡀⣀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⠿⡄ ⣗⡇⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠁⠈⡄⠁⢁⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⢴⣓ ⣿⡧⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠀⢐⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⠘⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢼⡵ ⢻⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣀⡬⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⠀⠀⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣚ ⣏⣧⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⢣⣠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⢘⣫⣏ ⠼⡍⡰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⣀⡷⢇⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡸⠀⠀⠀⡊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣷⠗ ⡿⡯⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠋⠉⠒⠒⠒⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣻⣯ ⢧⡗⠧⠄⠤⢀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⡀⠀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⢀⠀⡀⠀⡀⠀⡀⠀⡀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠄⠄⠀⠀⠠⠀⠠⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠈⡎⠿
🩸/🩸/🩸 🩸/👁/🩸 🩸/🩸/🩸
ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴳᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ ᵂⁱⁿⁱᶠʳᵉᵈ ᴱᵈⁱᵗʰ ᴱᵐᵐᵃ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ¹⁸⁸¹ ⁻ ¹⁹⁵⁴ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ ᴴᵒˡˡᵒʷᵃʸ ⁽ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ⁾ ᴾʰⁱˡˡⁱᵖˢ ᶜ‧ ¹⁸⁸³ ᴶᵃⁿᵉ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ¹⁸⁴⁸ ⁻ ¹⁹³⁰ ᴱᵐᵐᵃ ᴱˡⁱᶻᵃᵇᵉᵗʰ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ¹⁸⁵⁰ ⁻ ¹⁹³³ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴱ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᶜ‧ ¹⁸⁵⁷ ᴿᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⠘ ᵂᴬᵀᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽⁴⁹⁰⁾ ᵂᴴᴬᵀᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽⁵⁰⁾ ᵂᴼᴼᴰᔆᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽²⁴⁾ ᵂᴬᔆᴴᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽¹⁷⁾ ᵂᴬᵀᵀᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽¹⁾‧
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▪Уотсфорд❑
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐚 𝐩𝐩𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬’𝐬 “𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲“ 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐳𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩:) 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝟑𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞: ❤︎︎ 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐜 ❤︎︎ 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 ’𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞’ 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 ❤︎︎ 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐟𝐮𝐥 ❤︎︎ 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧!! 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐫𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧<𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❤︎︎ 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭!!! 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 ’𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰’ 𝐞𝐭𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫/𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐝𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!! 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲? 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞… ’𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠’ ’𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠’ ’𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐬’ 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 @𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲? 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮!! 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!!💗🫶
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Cool name designs ☾.✴˚˖⁺✦{name}✦˙⊹˚✴☽ ☕🧸♕- (insert name)-☕🧸♕ *ੈ✩ ☁☾ Your Name ☽☁ ✧༺ ❀♧☆❁☁♥∞ ️(𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆)∞♥️☁❁☆ 🎀💮👘~🍥Your name🍥~👘💮🎀 ♡🦋l (insert name) l♡🦋 🌻 ▫ ☁ (text) ☁ ▫ 🌻 🍯🧸🌼🍰🍩-(insert name here)-🍯🧸🌼🍰🍩 ˗ˏˋ❀ {Text} ❀ ˎˊ˗ 📇
🦇⋆⁺₊⋆𖤐𖤐⋆⁺₊⋆🦇
໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
ɪ'ᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ā̤̓̍͘l̙͖̑̾ͣ.☻
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈▕▔╲╱▔▔▔▔╲╱▔▏ ┈╭╭╭╭╭╭╭▔▏▋┈▋ ┈▋ ▕▔ ╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╲┈┈┈┈┈╱ ╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭ ╭ ╰▉╯ ╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╭╱ ╭╭╭╭╭╲╭╭╭╭╭╱ ┈┃┃┃┃┈┃┃┈┃┃ ┈┗┛┗┛┈┗┛┈┗┛
Sharlota Watsford شارلوت واتسفورد Շարլոտա Ուոթսֆորդ Шарлотта Уотсфорд Шарлот Уотсфорд Carlota Watsford שארלוט ווטספורד چارلۆت واتسفۆرد Šarlote Vatsforda Charlotte Watsfordas Шарлот Вотсфорд Шарлотт Ватсфорд शार्लोट वाट्सफोर्ड Шарлотка Уотсфорд Salote Watsford Љарлот Wатсфорд Шарлотта Ватсфорд ሻርሎት ዋትስፎርድ Sālote Watsford
⣿⣻⠿⣽⢯⠿⣽⣫⣟⡽⣫⢿⣹⢏⣿⡹⣏⢿⡹⣏⡿⣝⣯⢻⡽⣫⠿⣝⣯⢟⣯⣟⢯⣟⢿⣻⢟⣿⢻⣟⢯⣟⣾⣯⣿⣽⣟⣭⣯⣷⣼⡶⢏⡒⣡⣒⣬⡭⠿⡷⠾⢶⡷⣿⣶⣫⢿⣶⣥⣁⠂⠂⢀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠄⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡷⣯⢿⡽⣞⡿⢧⡷⢾⡽⣽⡳⢯⣟⡶⣻⣭⢷⡻⣵⡻⣞⠾⣯⠷⣯⠿⡽⣞⠿⣞⣾⢻⣞⣯⣽⣛⢮⣿⣾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⣻⢭⠭⣆⠄⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠠⢀⡠⠽⣻⡮⢷⡛⠳⢶⣢⣝⡢⣑⠢⠐⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⡝⣯⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⣼⣳⢻⡼⣝⡯⣽⣫⠾⣵⣛⢯⡞⣽⢳⢮⡳⣏⢷⣹⡭⣟⢾⡹⣧⢿⣹⢞⣻⣝⡮⣟⡼⣾⠱⣯⣿⣿⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣛⣯⣿⣷⡯⠷⠖⣒⣒⣚⣛⣭⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣦⣟⠛⢷⣌⠉⠓⠚⠛⡲⣆⡁⢆⡐⢢⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢫⣿⣽⡿⣷⣿⡿⣿ ⣟⠶⣽⢳⣛⣮⡽⢶⣫⢟⡵⣫⢷⡹⣎⡟⣮⢳⣭⣛⢶⡹⣎⢷⡻⣼⢳⣏⡾⣳⢮⡽⣞⣽⢯⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣽⣞⣫⣭⣴⣗⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⢿⣭⣛⣏⢻⠡⣿⡠⠦⠤⠤⢭⢿⣷⡀⠈⠄⠁⠀⢀⠈⠀⠄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⢻⣯⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿ ⣯⣛⡾⣭⠷⣮⢽⣣⢟⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣾⡱⣏⢶⡹⣎⢷⣹⢎⡷⣭⢳⣎⢷⡹⣎⠷⣽⣽⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠻⠟⣛⣋⣉⣵⣮⡷⠾⡟⣉⣡⣬⠴⠲⠜⢿⣦⡉⠉⠙⠽⣶⢽⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠩⣟⣷⣿⡿⣟⣿ ⡷⣹⢞⡵⣻⡜⣧⣛⠾⣜⢧⡻⣜⢧⣛⢶⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⣭⢳⢮⣏⠷⣭⢻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡶⠷⠛⣛⣋⣩⠡⠄⠭⢖⡫⢝⣤⣶⣾⡷⣾⠟⠛⠿⣧⡽⢭⣌⡻⣾⣥⠀⡐⠀⠁⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣷⢿⣿⢿ ⣽⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⡶⣭⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣧⣛⢮⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⠾⣜⢯⡞⣼⠻⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⣭⢷⣾⢷⡻⣽⠞⠋⣑⣬⠾⣯⠾⣻⣿⣿⠿⣝⣫⣴⣾⣏⣟⡻⣤⣘⣫⠝⠻⠧⠀⢀⠈⠀⠄⠠⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠊⢛ ⢷⣫⢞⣧⢻⣜⡳⣭⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⢶⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⠷⣭⢻⡜⣧⢻⣜⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣽⣻⣿⠿⣭⣟⣿⡕⣯⣾⣿⣿⣻⡷⠿⣩⣷⡾⣟⣿⣿⡿⢹⠏⣸⡌⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠈⡐⠈⠄⠂⢁⠠⠁⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⢃ ⡷⣹⢞⡼⣳⢎⡷⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣡⣶⠿⣛⣭⣿⣽⣿⠞⣱⡟⣰⠏⡼⣿⣿⣯⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⡡⢈⡐⠄⠠⠀⠁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢤⣒⠣⠜⢂ ⣽⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⣟⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣽⣶⣿⣿⢟⢫⣱⣾⣿⡟⣩⢞⣡⢺⣽⣿⣿⣷⣿⣻⣿⣿⣧⠐⠤⠐⡈⠄⠈⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣠⣔⡲⣛⠜⡢⢌⠡⣉⠀ ⡞⣧⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣣⢝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣎⣷⡟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠿⣟⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡱⠁⠈⠙⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡎⢤⡁⠰⣀⠡⢀⢂⡰⣰⣌⡷⣳⢏⡶⣑⢣⡙⢤⡃⢇⠦⣉ ⡽⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣌⠓⡌⠐⠊⡖⢫⢞⡵⣫⢞⡵⣫⢞⡵⣫⢞⡵⣟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢟⠾⣹⣿⢯⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⢏⡴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣣⢯⣷⡼⣽⣞⣾⢷⣻⢾⡹⢇⠯⣰⢡⡖⣹⢦⡙⢎⡒⠤ ⣳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⣎⠡⠀⠌⡐⢌⡳⣎⢷⣙⢮⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⡾⣽⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⡾⣱⠫⣼⡿⣵⡻⣷⢿⣿⢟⣏⠜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣽⣿⢿⣽⣯⢿⡱⢣⡝⢎⣳⡱⢧⡛⡴⢃⢮⠱⣌⢣ ⣧⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⢳⡌⢃⡎⢰⢁⡏⣷⢹⣮⡝⣮⣵⢋⡞⣱⡟⣹⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣷⢁⣿⡟⣸⣿⡟⣷⡟⢁⣯⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢹⡞⣿⢻⣽⡎⣧⠙⣧⠚⣭⣶⢉⣧⠙⡖⣭⢲⡍⡖⢣ ⡽⣞⣳⡽⢮⡝⣏⠑⠂⠀⠁⢯⡜⣮⢳⣎⢷⡹⣜⢮⣽⡳⣽⢟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⢦⣿⣟⣽⣿⣿⣿⢟⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣯⡿⣝⠯⢶⡹⣌⠟⡼⣩⠳⣌⠳⣌⢳⡱⢣⢎⡵⡭⣏ ⡿⣽⣳⣟⢯⣞⢦⣁⡀⠀⠀⡸⣝⠶⣋⡞⢮⣵⣻⡛⣶⡹⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠵⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠞⠋⠉⠙⢷⣄⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠉⡷⣙⢞⣣⠳⣌⠻⣔⢣⡛⣬⠳⣜⢣⣝⣣⢻⡴⢻⣜ ⣟⣷⣻⡞⢏⢞⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⣯⣝⣣⢟⢧⡳⢦⡟⣶⡹⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢯⢭⣙⠯⣟⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⣤⣶⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠱⡸⢌⡞⡴⢫⣜⡳⢎⡧⡝⢦⡛⣬⢳⡺⣜⢧⣛⡷⣯ ⡞⣼⣳⡍⠎⠀⠰⣤⠤⡤⣤⢾⢳⢮⣜⡫⢮⡵⣫⣼⡷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠯⡽⣭⠲⣍⢾⡱⣏⣶⣭⣶⣥⣮⣁⠂⠁⠄⢃⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡡⡝⢮⡜⣵⢫⠶⣙⡏⡶⡹⢦⡝⣎⡳⣝⢮⢯⡽⣞⡷ ⡝⣶⣻⢿⡰⢄⡻⢬⣛⡵⢭⢎⡻⣜⡶⣹⢣⢞⣽⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⣝⠳⢭⣻⣜⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⠓⠮⣍⡷⡄⠈⢦⡩⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⣠⣶⡿⠿⣿⣯⣿⣳⣦⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠐⡈⢦⡙⢶⣋⢯⡕⣺⢱⡙⢦⣙⠶⡹⣬⢛⡮⢷⣏⣿ ⣝⡲⣯⢿⣷⣫⣝⡣⢽⣘⠧⡞⣵⢫⡼⣱⢋⠾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣈⠃⢏⠽⣉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⠀⠀⠈⡷⣝⡎⢲⢱⢊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⡼⣿⣿⣿⡗⡄⠀⠹⡿⢯⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠙⣮⡙⢧⣛⢮⣝⢶⣫⣽⣳⣮⣷⣝⢶⣋⣞⢧⡟⣾ ⢮⡱⣏⠿⣎⠱⢊⡝⠶⣩⢞⡹⢦⡳⣜⢣⡏⢾⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⢤⡉⠢⠱⠌⣎⠙⡛⠻⠿⠖⠒⠒⠉⠉⢁⡞⢡⠚⡄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠻⠿⢿⣋⣀⣀⣼⠷⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠈⠦⡙⢦⡹⣞⢮⢷⣣⡟⣷⣻⢿⣾⡿⣟⣾⣧⣿⣳ ⠲⣙⢎⡓⠌⠤⢁⠈⡑⠤⢋⡼⣣⠷⣌⠯⣜⢣⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡺⡅⢎⡁⠂⡁⠀⠡⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠃⡐⢂⡉⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣌⢳⣽⣳⣽⣻⢾⣿⢿⣿⣟⣿⣿ ⠓⠈⠀⠉⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠣⢅⢫⡑⠻⣌⠳⢬⢳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⡙⢦⠉⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢂⠡⢂⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣖⠿⣼⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⣿⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠒⢬⠑⡀⠣⣸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢶⡹⢆⡍⢂⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢄⠈⡐⢌⠢⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠤⠒⢌⠫⠖⣭⣛⣧⢷⣯⣟⣷⣻⣷⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⢌⠠⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⣛⠦⡘⢄⠊⠄⡁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠁⠎⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢻⣞⢯⡾⣽⢾⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⢣⢍⠢⠌⡐⢀⠂⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢹⡅⠂⣠⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡾⣹⢿⣽⣻⣾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣮⢓⡎⡔⠡⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⠽⠿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣟⣿⣞⣯⣷⣿⡿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⢬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠷⡸⢄⢃⠂⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⡄⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣌⢿⣼⣻⡿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣠⠴⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢯⡱⢊⠄⢂⠀⠄⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢠⣄⣀⣀⢤⢺⣭⣟⣾⡽⣿⢿⣽⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠐⠄⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢭⢣⠎⠄⠂⠀⠂⠄⠠⢴⣦⣴⣶⣶⣶⣻⣷⣦⣑⣚⣲⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣼⢫⣟⢯⡾⡷⣯⣟⣿⣿⣻⣾⢷⣻⣞⣿⢿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠔⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣓⠮⡐⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠆⡘⢌⡑⠶⣤⣩⣉⣔⡙⣉⣉⡉⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⢦⡻⡜⣮⢳⣏⣷⢿⣟⣿⡿⣿⢿⣻⣾⣽⢿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⢀⣾⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣖⡡⢂⠀⡐⠀⢉⡐⠈⡀⠒⠀⠀⠉⠉⠑⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⣟⡿⣧⡻⢼⡹⣏⠷⣯⣻⣾⣷⡿⣿⢿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣻ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠞⡏⠀⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡳⢆⡒⠄⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⡯⢿⡳⣽⣍⣟⡶⣫⢷⡿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡅⠐⣿⣯⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣜⡣⡔⣀⠂⠌⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣧⡛⣿⣯⣽⣦⣖⢢⣏⠵⢫⡼⣿⣽⢿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⡇⠀⢿⣻⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣱⢳⡔⡢⢌⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡽⣿⣿⣷⡼⣷⡷⣬⣛⢧⡚⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣤⣨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⠎⡱⠪⣔⣢⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡠⠤⢶⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣿⣿⣗⣯⣝⢶⢫⣞⣱⡎⠹⣞⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿ ⡔⢦⣣⢖⡥⠂⠀⠀⡠⠶⠿⡾⠿⠿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢛⠟⡩⠉⠁⠄⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⣌⡳⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢼⣾⢫⣞⡷⣣⢿⣡⣿⣽⣻⣯⣿⣿ ⡘⠥⣋⣾⣳⢿⣦⣙⢥⡔⠋⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⣿⢷⡈⠀⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⢦⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢺⣞⣻⢾⣹⢯⣺⡵⣾⣿⣳⣿⣿⣿ ⢈⠆⢥⣻⣿⢿⣿⣻⣯⣼⣆⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢹⣷⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡌⣘⢧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣆⢋⡗⠿⣮⣷⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢌⡘⢄⣻⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⣿⣸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡘⢬⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⡝⣽⣿⣾⢎⡵⢲⡴⣻⢭⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠢⠜⡰⢸⡿⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⣿⡇⣼⣷⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡑⣌⢷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣿⣿⡎⣿⣾⣽⣀⠌⠙⠳⣝⢮⡝⠷⡻⣿⠿⠁ ⠤⠦⠤⠾⠿⠿⣛⡇⢼⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣾⣿⡇⠘⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣀⠣⣘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢘⣿⣿⢿⣘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⡜⣇⢣⠛⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢡⣿⣿⠃⢸⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡐⢠⠣⣙⣮⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠻⣿⣿⣿⡌⣿⣿⡿⣿⠟⠁⠨⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢾⣿⡧⣿⣿⠏⠀⣾⠏⠀⠀⢀⠠⠀⡈⠐⡈⢄⠣⡱⣞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⣄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣽⢯⡴⠋⠀⢀⡇⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠣⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢲⣿⡟⢉⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣿⣷⣿⠃⢀⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠐⠀⡁⠄⡈⢆⡱⢏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⡉⠛⢿⣿⣿⡿⣆⠀⢀⡠⠋⠁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣟⡹⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣇⣿⣿⡃⣴⠞⠃⠀⢃⠀⠀⠀⠄⠈⡀⠄⢂⠁⠆⢬⡙⣮⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣄⢺⣿⣿⣿⡟⣧⠘⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣴⡖⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣿⣿⣿⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠄⡐⠠⠘⡌⢢⡙⢶⣹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠠⠀⠌⠠⢀⠡⠡⡘⠤⡙⢬⡓⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠤⠦⠵⠾⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠠⠁⠔⢂⠑⢢⠱⣹⠽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡿⣿⣻⡇⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢐⣠⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠈⠠⢈⠂⠥⢣⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠙⣁⣤⠞⠃⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣀⣃⣜⣢⠼⠿⠏⢸⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣰⣾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠐⠿⠻⣷⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠈⠄⢣⢞⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣷⡿⠞⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⡏⠀⠀⠐⠠⠀⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠌⢢⡛⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡷⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⠀⠀⠀⢢⣡⡂⣔⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⣼⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢧⠹⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣍⠹⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⡙⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠠⣐⠀⣳⢿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⢆⠻⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠾⣡⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢗⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠂⠀⠄⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣦⣜⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⢿⣷⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣬⠓⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠙⢿⣯⣪⠣⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠘⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣧⣶⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣷⣶⣾⣷⣘⣃⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡿⠉⠉⠉⣁⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠈⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣶⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣴⡶⢿⣛⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡛⠛⠛⠿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣛⣛⣋⠉⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣛⣫⣽⣿⡶⠿⢿⣛⣩⣽⣷⣶⠿⣿⣿⣟⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡶⢿⣿⣿⣻⡉⠁⢠⡶⠿⣫⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⡿⢟⣃⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠎⠉ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣆⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣻⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⢀⣄⡀⠀⠀⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠉⣽⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⣤⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⣿⡅⢸⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⢶⣮⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠙⠃⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣽⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡇⠀⠀⠘⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢷⣿⡟⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⣉⣀⣞⡉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⡇⢺⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡍⠉⠉⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠘⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⣿⣿⣿⡽⣷⣶⠀⠀⠀⣀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣧⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⡾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡧⣿⣟⡇⠀⠀⢿⡀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠿⠟⠛⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡁⢐⡷⠶⢿⡄⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣷⣿⣣⣾⠟⠋⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢽⣿⣷⣾⡿⢟⣳⣤⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠙⠿⣿⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣀⢀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⠟⣿⣿⣿⣯⡿⠿⣿⣤⡉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏ ⠶⠶⠶⠾⠿⢿⣿⣏⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠛⠙⠃⠀ ⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⡀⠀⠀ ⣈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡟⢰⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⣰⡟⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣆⠀ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣻⣿⣟⠋⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⡏⣰⣿⠟⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⢠⣾⠟⠁⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷ 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✻ღϠ₡ღ✻(¯`✻´¯)Every life has a story *`*.¸.*✻ღϠ₡ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸
Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. That’s why I only go shopping at night fewer people to avoid. “Did you find everything okay?” she asks casually. “Mm-hmm,” I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up. The cashier’s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. I snap my gaze back down towards the floor. After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled I’m surprised it can hold anything at all. Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim. I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim. Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die? Credit to reddit user resistance1984

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

꒰ঌ👁️໒꒱ աɦʏ ɖօ ʏօʊ ӄɛɛք ɦɨɖɨռɢ ʄʀօʍ ʍɛ? ǟʟʟ ɨ աǟռȶɛɖ աǟֆ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ ȶօ ƈօʍɛ օʊȶ ǟռɖ քʟǟʏ. ꒰ঌ👁️໒꒱
ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴇɴᴋʀɪᴇɢ2194 • 1 ʏʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪs ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ. "Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ," ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ."
💉 ❤️‍🩹 💉 ❤️‍🩹 💉 ❤️‍🩹 💉 ❤️‍🩹 💉
🥀🚬🦋🔪
ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ; ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᴾᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ? ᴹᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ? 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‧ 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‧
the hallucination: based on a true story from me. 9:00 pm, the clock read. I was walking in my room when I suddenly felt like there was a ghost or some sort of demon following me. I jumped on the bed, scared and afraid of what happened to me. My vision went black, I could not see anything. Bright, neon, exuberant colors came then to my vision. I was so confused and scared of this vision. Then a TV noise pixel vision came to me, and the bright colors disappeared. It was just black and white TV noise. No sound, just plain confusion and my eyes hurting. This lasted for under 30 seconds. My sight finally came back. I could see my surroundings now. I was on the bed, in my room, saw the bunk beds, my desk, my brother’s desk, and the door. It was like I could not escape my room… And something or SOMEONE was holding me back. I was so scared and stayed on the bed for the rest of the night. what hallucination was this…?

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟≽^•⩊•^≼𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟≽^•⩊•^≼𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr!૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr!(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ୧⍤⃝💐☆⋆。𖦹°‧★✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚♡(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡
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🍄☁️🌸r4!ny.Sp4c3 .👁🥩🍄
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣔⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣽⣷⣳⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣮⢿⡙⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣕⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠸⢻⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡷⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣟⣽⡼⣼⡼⣮⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⣾⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⢟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢏⣟⡏⡍⣷⢹⡾⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢨⣯⣏⣿⣯⣟⣿⣧⢽⠺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⣿⣿⢹⣿⣽⢷⣿⣽⣟⡏⣿⣿⣿⣻⣸⣿⣧⣹⣼⣿⣞⣝⣻⣿⣏⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣽⣿⣯⣸⣿⡏⣾⢽⣾⢻⣷⣹⡸⣙⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣯⣞⣯⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠂⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣼⣿⢿⣿⣯⡇⣯⣿⢿⡾⣾⣨⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡘⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⣿⣾⣿⣿⣗⡟⣿⢾⣷⢿⣿⣟⣦⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⣿⣿⣧⣋⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⡏⣋⠼⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢹⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠙⡿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣟⣿⣻⣿⣇⢨⠰⢳⠛⢿⡀⠙⣏⣥⡽⠋⢀⣀⡋⣈⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠁⡧⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⢿⡿⣯⣿⠐⢡⢏⢇⣲⡝⢧⣿⣏⢀⣤⣽⣢⣼⣿⣧⣿⡀⢼⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣤⠤⠤⠶⠚⠽⢻⡄⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣿⣿⡃⠁⠉⠀⡁⢱⣾⠃⠈⢿⣿⣋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣁⠈⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠍⠀⠀⠀⡀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⠱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣻⣿⣇⠈⠃⠀⢠⠎⡁⠀⠀⢀⡀⡈⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⡌⠀⠃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⣼⡻⣁⣉⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⢺⣄⣸⣽⣿⣭⣭⣿⣤⠦⠤⣄⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠴⡀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣿⣿⣯⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣤⣼⣿⢹⡍⣻⣿⡏⣭⣿⠋⣂⣌⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⡿⣏⣿⣇⠑⠀⠀⠀⣻⣷⣭⡻⠬⠧⡯⠿⠿⢿⣿⡿⣞⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣽⣽⣧⣾⡧⢠⣿⢻⡟⣿⣏⣛⣻⡄⢀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢽⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠇⠀⣾⠟⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣧⣼⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⢸⣿⣿⣏⡟⠙⢛⢿⣿⢧⣿⣿⡟⢳⡞⢠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣴⣄⠀⣽⡰⠙⠙⠿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠋⡿⠈⠁⠀⠀⠈⢱⠀⢹⣇⣠⡏⠀⢸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣨⡼⢾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠴⡂⠀⠀⠁⠙⡻⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡖⠀⢀⡄⠘⠀⠘⢿⣽⠀⢠⡟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠤⠤⠖⠚⠉⠁⠀⠰⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⣾⣭⡷⢶⣟⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⢠⣤⠠⣶⣾⣥⣿⣤⡀⠀⡀⠘⣦⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠒⠊⠁⠢⣉⡉⠉⠳⢶⢖⣄⡀⠀⠉⠁⠀⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠸⠄⣰⣝⣷⢂⣤⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠵⣿⢜⢯⡂⠀⢫⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣿⣿⣿⢧⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⡀⠐⠁⢀⣽⣿⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠻⣿⣻⣆⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣟⣿⡿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣹⣿⠟⢠⢠⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣇⡀⣀⣲⣿⠟⠗⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠿⣕⣵⡀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡇⡉⠁⠀⠉⡻⣟⣿⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⢁⣀⣸⣸⣸⣱⣸⣿⣿⣿⣟⣺⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢯⣪⣢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢮⡞⡝⠻⣿⣝⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⢤⡌⠙⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠹⡵⡵⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡵⡄⠘⠛⢷⡉⠙⢻⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣀⣹⣿⣤⣿⢿⣟⣿⣿⡿⡯⠍⠁⠙⣿⣎⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⠘⢎⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⣷⣣⣀⠀⠀⠁⠁⠀⠀⣇⡈⠻⣿⡿⣿⣿⣋⠁⠁⢨⣿⣿⣯⠻⠯⢥⡀⠀⠈⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣎⠇⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⢁⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣷⣵⣅⠀⣼⣯⣚⣒⡒⠂⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡼⣤⠀⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡻⣗⠀⠈⣿⢧⣿⣿⣻⣷⡂⣹⣿⣀⣚⣯⣍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡃⡿⡷⡄⢕⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡵⣄⢀⠀⠀⢙⡼⣦⡄⢹⢸⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣽⣾⣿⣍⣣⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⢃⣷⣋⠙⠦⣍⠯⣗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣮⣧⣀⣀⠀⢱⢸⣷⠹⡟⣿⣮⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⢀⢠⠏⢀⢎⣾⡿⠀⠀⣠⠨⠳⢮⣓⠮⣒⢤⣀⡀⠹⢷⣵⣏⢀⠀⡇⠿⡵⣽⡻⢉⢫⣿⣻⢞⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣤⣰⢂⡤⠃⢠⢮⡾⡿⣁⡠⠔⠀⢀⣠⣤⠾⠝⠢⢭⣒⡫⠶⣊⣿⣾⢷⣵⣖⣮⣞⡿⠁⠀⠀⠸⡿⣯⢆⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⢀⡔⣱⢿⡿⠟⢉⣤⡶⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠊⠉⠁⠉⠙⠒⠶⠤⠷⢵⡾⠛⢉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣵⢻⣿⣗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣧⡠⡴⣫⣟⣵⣯⡶⠞⠋⢁⣠⣴⠲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣦⡀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠀⢱⠝⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣨⣾⣷⠟⣉⣠⣴⠶⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⢱⣻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠸⠀⠙⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⠟⠟⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡝⣵⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠿⠀⠀⠈⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣩⡬⡐⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠏⠸⣵⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣽⢀⡢⠄⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸
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巛 ˊ ѕσηg ѕυggєѕтισηѕ(ωєιя∂¢σяє) ˊ 巛 ・вαву нσтℓιηє ・ρσѕѕιвℓу ιη мι¢нιgαη ・нєу кι∂ѕ ・ωєℓ¢σмє тσ кιтту ¢ιту ・ѕυкι ѕυкι ∂αιѕυкι ・ι'∂ яαтнєя ѕℓєєρ ・ƒαℓℓєη ∂σωη ࿐ ࿔*:・゚мιgнт α∂∂ αησтнєя σηє σя мσяє тσ ιт ℓαтєя ση! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Hi there. My name is Evi and I’m 36 years old. Almost two years ago, on the 13 August 2015, I was involved in a serious road traffic accident. I don’t remember how it happened and I am grateful for that. The police told me that there was a pot hole on the side of the road which caught my front side wheel of my car and span me into opposite direction, where my car sadly hit another car at a combined speed of 100 mph. All I remember was waking up in the car and everything was in a very slow motion, in absolute quiet. No sense of smell or touch, just nothingness. Then the adrenaline kicked in and I had to drag myself out of the car because I could smell smoke. Still not knowing what had happened and where I was. The only thing I knew was that my legs weren’t working and that I did not want to burn. I was taken to St George’s Hospital, Major Trauma Centre. I remember being scared as I was in so much pain and dazed from all the painkiller drugs. There were lots of doctors, nurses, beeping noises, tubes, many questions thrown all in my direction, thousands of voices that didn't make sense to me. I had no idea why I couldn’t feel my legs and what was wrong with me. I spent two months in St George’s. Every day was a battle for me, especially as I don’t come from this country, I am from the Czech Republic, so I didn’t have my family around. It was a hard two months. All my dignity was gone. I became totally dependent on everyone around me. I had to learn to trust strangers very quickly. Their judgements, statements, advice and believe me it wasn’t always easy. But, on the other hand, I also had an amazing support from the wonderful therapy team, who helped with my rehab. The clinical nurse specialist, who was the right hand of my surgeon, always put a smile on my face. There was also the porter, the dinner lady and cleaning lady with her enormous enthusiasm for life. Meeting other patients and hearing their stories also helped and made me appreciate how lucky I was and that it could be worse, which became my daily mantra. All these people and their joined effort made me work twice as hard so their hard work wouldn’t be wasted.

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

- OO1 : Cute aesthetics - 💗🥡🍨🍥🌼 - Cutecore 💸🥀🐰🦢☕ - Angelcore 🕸️☠💉🌻👁 - Weirdcore
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟≽^•⩊•^≼𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟≽^•⩊•^≼𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr!૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა rawr!(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
🫧𖦹⋆꩜ʚ🍓 // ᵂʰʸ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ⁱ ˢᵃʸ ❝ 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ❞ .ᐣ //💉🫀🎀🔪🦴✧⸝⸝🪐 ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮weirdcore𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊🍄🌈🏠☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
🌀🏥🔪🧸🥩💊🗝🩺🤕
🥩★彡ω1єя∂¢σяє彡★🥩
👁🦷🏥🤡🪱🥀
https://hopkintonhistorical.org/hopkinton-rhode-island-death-records-1788-1922-a-c/
https://www.nps.gov/klgo/learn/historyculture/upload/gold-rush-cemetery-508.pdf
An Egg September 1, 2012 It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a quick passing. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail ... An Egg Strange and Unexplained / 5 minutes of reading Estimated reading time — 4 minutes It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. You’re so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me. And that’s when you met me. “What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?” “You passed,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words. “There was a…a truck and it was skidding…” “Yup.” I said “I… I’m gone?” “Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone passes.” I said. You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?” “More or less,” I said. “Are you god?” You asked. “Yup.” I replied. “I’m God.” “My kids… my wife,” you said. “What about them?” “Will they be alright?” “That what I like to see,” I said. “You just passed and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.” You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like a God. Some vague authority figure. “Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.” “Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to the afterlife or something?” “Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.” You followed along as we strolled in the void. “Where are we going?” “Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.” “So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.” “Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.” I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part or yourself into the vessel and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.” “You’ve been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we stay out here for longer, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point doing that between each life.” “How many times have I been reincarnated, then?” “Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D.” “Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?” “Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.” You pondered. “But wait. If i get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?” “Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan you don’t even know it’s happening.” I looked in your eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.” “You mean mankind? You want us to mature?” “No. just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect” “Just me? What about everyone else?” “There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you, and me.” You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…” “All you. Different incarnations of you.” “Wait. I’m everyone!?” “Now you’re getting it.” “I’m every human who ever lived?” “Or whom will ever live, yes.” “I’m Abraham Lincoln?” “And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too.” I added. “I’m a criminal?” you said, appalled. “And you’re the victims, too.” “I’m a leader?” “And you’re everyone who followed you.” You fell silent. “Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.” “Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?” “Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.” “Whoa.” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?” “No. Not yet. You’re as a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.” “So the whole universe,” you said. “It’s just…” “An egg of sorts.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.” And with that, I sent you on your way. Credit: Andy Weir
https://www.stsepulchres.org.uk/burials/index.html
NEWEST GUIDELINES ON CANCERS SCREENING OF THE WOMB COMPARED TO PREVIOUS RECOMMENDATIONS SUGGESTED for AFAB people aged ~25-65 yrs. old 2020 Update 2012 old 2018 former rec. Ages <25 No screening Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 25‒29 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) , HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 30‒65 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) or HPV/Pap cotest every 3 years (preferred) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years, HPV test every 5 years, or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years Age 65 + No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal and not at high risk for cancer
https://wisconsinhistory.org/Records?&facets=CATEGORIES%3a%22Pre-1907+Vital+Records%22%2cCONTENT_TYPE%3a%22Death+Index+Record%22&nodes=*Research*,*Family*
chronically-persistent You know I’ve been thinking, there should be no guilt in experiencing happınᥱss as a disabled or chronically ıll person. We don’t need to suffer every waking moment to justify our experiences and our truths. Joy is a universal right. And that includes us. Feb 14th, 2024
https://www.salempioneercemetery.org/groups/record_group.php
http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Galway/1909/APR.html ---------- Two youths, Thomas Kelly, 17, and Laurence Curley, 16, in a spirit of play, started to throw potatoes at each other in a Galway potato field. The first named chanced to hit Curley on the back of the head, from the effects of which he died. Kelly, who was brought up at the Galway Assizes charged with his companion's death, was released by Judge Johnson after five minutes' detention. ----------
The End From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter: For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today. Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.
ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ɪʟʟɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴀʏɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜰɪɴᴅ ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅ
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ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷.𝟶𝟼ᴋ At the Neptune Medical Center, Karen parks the car and goes with her husband Plankton into the building after an injury to his antenna. "I still don't see why you didn't press charges against Krabs, Sheldon," Karen sighs, as they walk through the gleaming, sterile corridors of the medical center. "Karen I'm not gonna give him the satisfaction." Plankton's antenna now hangs limp and damaged. The doctor had assured him it was a simple repair job, yet Plankton's nerves were as frayed as the antenna itself. They enter the reception area, the automatic doors whispering shut behind them, as if sealing off the outside world's chaos. The smell of antiseptic fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of fear and hope. The receptionist, a young squid with a friendly smile, looks up from her computer screen. "Mr. Plankton, your appointment is with Dr. Marlin, the antenna specialist," she says, her tentacles typing efficiently. "You can go straight to the third floor, room 304." The elevator ride is silent, save for the rhythmic ding of each passing floor. Karen notices his distant gaze and squeezes his arm reassuringly. "You'll be fine, Sheldon," she whispers. Plankton nods. They arrive at room 304, and Karen opens the door, revealing a state-of-the-art examination room. Dr. Marlin, an octopus with a gleaming scalpel in one tentacle and a clipboard in another, looks up from his notes. "Ah, Mr. Sheldon Plankton, right on time," he says, his eight eyes blinking in unison. "I understand you've had a bit of an injury?" Plankton nods, his voice tight. "Krabs... he... snapped it." Dr. Marlin's tentacles twitch in concern. "Mr. Eugene Krabs, eh? He's had his share of accidents around here." He scribbles something on the clipboard. "Well, let's get you fixed up. I've seen worse, and you're in good hands." The doctor leads Plankton to the examination chair, which is surprisingly comfortable for someone so tiny. He adjusts the chair's height and angles the light to shine on the antenna. Plankton winces as the doctor gently prods the damaged area. "It's definitely snapped," Dr. Marlin says, his voice calm and professional. "But the good news is, it's not to far gone. We can repair it with a simple procedure." "You'll need to be under for this," he explains. "It's nothing to worry about. You'll be out Before you know it." Plankton's heart races as he lies back in the chair, the cold metal pressing against his back. He glances at Karen, who gives him a forced smile, her screen filled with concern. The doctor notices and pats his shoulder reassuringly. "It's just a little sleep," he says. "You'll be back in no time." Karen reaches for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. The anesthesiologist, a bluefish with a gentle demeanor, enters the room, pushing a trolley with a variety of bottles and tubes. She introduces herself as Nurse Bella and explains that she'll be administering the anesthesia for the surgery. Plankton swallows hard, eye darting from her to Karen's screen and back again. Karen's gaze follows the anesthesiologist, Nurse Bella, as she meticulously prepares. "Ready? Count as high as you can," she asks, her voice as soft as a lullaby. Plankton nods, his grip on Karen's hand tightening. "One... two... three..." Plankton's voice starts strong, but the medicine's effect begins to take hold. His eyelid grow heavy, and the numbers begin to slur. Karen watches as Plankton's count descends into a whisper. "Five... six... sev..." His tiny hand relaxes in hers, and his body goes slack. She watches the rise and fall of his chest slow as he succumbs to the anesthesia. Karen squeezes his hand one last time. The door to the exam room opens again, and Dr. Marlin's head pokes out. "Everything's gone well," Dr. Marlin says, peering over his mask. "We're to halt anesthesia." "You're okay," Karen whispers, her voice cracking. "You're okay." "He's doing great," the nurse whispers. "You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes they can hear you." Karen leans closer, her voice low and soothing. "Hey, Plankton, it's Karen. You're safe now. They've fixed your antenna. No more pain, okay?" Her thoughts are interrupted by a soft groan from the bed. Karen's screen snap to Plankton, who's beginning to stir under the blankets. "Shh," she whispers, stroking his arm. "You're safe." "K...Karen?" His eye opens. "Yes, it's me. You're okay, you're in the hospital. They've fixed your antenna." "Karen... antenna... Krabby Patty... wait, what?" He giggles, the words jumbling together in a way that makes no sense. Plankton's eye widen with childlike excitement. "Oh, right! The antenna!" He tries to touch the bandage but ends up nearly slapping himself in the face with his own arm. "Oops!" He giggles again, the sound echoing through the quiet room. He tries to sit up, but cannot. "Whoa, Nelly!" "Easy," Karen laughs. "I'm the king of the jellyfish prom! They got no flair!" Once in the car, Karen buckles him in with care, double-checking the seatbelt. "Remember, no funny business," she warns. Plankton's eye droop, and his head lolls to the side. "You're going to sleep, aren't you?" she says, her voice a mix of amusement and exhaustion. "M'not sleeping," Plankton mumbles, his eyelid fluttering, his voice fading into a snore. The drive home is peaceful, with Plankton snoring lightly beside her. As they approach their place, she gently shakes him awake. "We're home, Sheldon," she says, her voice gentle. "Can you wake up for me?" Plankton's eye blink open, and he looks around in confusion. "Home?" he mumbles. "Already?" Karen nods with a smirk. "Yeah, you slept through the whole drive. Came out of it just in time." They get out of the car, and Plankton wobbles slightly on his legs, the after-effects of the anesthesia still lingering. Karen wraps an arm around his waist, supporting him as they make their way to the front door. With a chuckle, Karen helps him inside, the warm light of their living room washing over them. Plankton's snores become more pronounced as they move through the hallway. "Come on, you need to get to bed," she says, leading him to their bedroom. The room is cozy, with a large bed that seems to swallow Plankton whole as he collapses into it. Karen carefully pulls the covers up to his chin. "Rest now," she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.
♱☩𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲☩♱ “𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲” 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬. 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝-𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬-𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥. „𝐖𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐟ü𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧.“
🎀 💧 🎨
⠀⠻⠽⠋⠻⠿⠅⠨⠀⠀⠄⠠⠄⠈⠻⠏⠁⠄⠀⠀⠠⠠⠀⠀⠀⠈⠵⠼⠎⠻⠿⠿⠿⠉⠁⣠⣤⣠⣿⣿⡟⢹⣿⡏⠙⢿⣿⠀⣯⡤⢠⣬⠏⠉⠀⢀⣴⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⣻⢟⣿ ⠀⢐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢁⣆⠀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⢀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢠⣩⣽⣿⡟⢠⡆⢹⡇⢰⣄⠙⠀⣿⡇⠘⠃⠀⣀⣴⡿⣞⣇⢀⣠⡆⠀⠘⣟⣾ ⠀⢨⠂⢀⡸⠠⠄⣈⢀⡀⠀⠀⡐⣞⠀⡈⢆⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠂⠄⠀⢀⠀⡀⢸⣀⣈⣭⢉⣝⣠⣤⣴⣄⣧⣼⣿⣷⣦⣿⣧⣄⠀⢾⣽⠞⠀⢸⡾⠛⢹⡷⠀⠀⠘⣾ ⠀⣀⠘⡄⣟⠣⢘⢠⢸⡃⠘⡠⢃⣜⠣⡀⢜⢸⣇⡘⠻⡀⢇⠠⠀⡄⠘⠠⠘⠠⠄⡘⠠⢀⣻⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣻⡿⣼⢧⡿⣼⣻⢿⡄⠘⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠂⠘⠐⢺⡼⠒⠛⠶⣾⣵⡾⠒⣷⣾⠓⡞⢲⣾⡗⠺⠇⠘⠒⠲⡅⠀⠁⠂⣁⣂⡒⢢⡵⢒⡿⠟⠛⠛⢟⠉⠐⣡⣴⠛⣿⣽⣯⢟⡷⣯⢿⣽⣳⢶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⢼⣻⡀⠀⢀⣿ ⣿⠀⢸⡏⢠⣾⣿⡄⢹⣿⡇⠀⠿⠟⠠⡁⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠰⠶⠂⣸⣾⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢀⡚⠁⡴⠛⢄⠀⢻⠀⣿⣧⠀⠿⣾⣽⣿⣿⣽⣻⢾⡽⣞⣧⢟⣻⢶⣄⡉⠁⠀⣠⣾⣻ ⣛⠀⢸⣷⡈⠛⠛⢁⣜⣻⡇⠀⣾⣷⠐⣧⠘⠿⠃⣰⠄⢠⣤⠀⢿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠡⠆⠙⠲⠋⢠⢧⠈⠻⠇⡐⠀⠿⡛⠛⣿⣿⡏⠻⣽⢞⣞⡯⣟⡾⣽⣻⣶⣾⣻⣞⣽ ⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣶⡷⢿⠶⠋⣹⣶⣾⣿⣶⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠶⡘⢋⠖⠳⠶⡄⠀⠀⣠⠌⠡⠜⣿⡧⢷⣼⠈⠉⠷⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⡿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢦⣜⡿⣾⣖⣺⣿⣿⠃⢀⠞⠁⠀⣠⣼⢹⢋⡗⣾⠀⠀⠀⣌⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣏⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢏⢶⣎⣿⣷⣿⣿⣷⣿⡇⠀⡏⠀⠎⣾⡏⠉⠀⠀⠹⣾⠁⢀⣾⡿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⠾⡣⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⣻⢿⣻⡿⣿⣿⢿⣿⡟⠀⣸⠀⡈⢸⣿⣿⡖⠀⠀⠀⢸⠐⠋⠅⠒⠢⢴⣀⠆⡙⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡛⣿⠛⢾⣿⣿⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣠⡿⡟⡭⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡬⢹⣽⣿⢿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⡆⠀⢃⢹⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣬⣿⠆⠀⢀⢔⣾⣿⣷⡆⠱⣈⢿⣹ ⠿⠈⣷⢾⡁⢧⣯⡴⢻⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠾⣍⣳⠝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠋⠀⣾⡟⣿⢿⡛⢻⣿⠋⣿⠟⠀⠐⠀⠈⠙⠿⠃⠀⠀⣸⣿⡟⠀⢠⢂⣾⣿⣇⣠⣿⠐⡌⠦⣽ ⡦⣭⢩⢩⡑⣻⢻⠖⢸⣿⣿⣿⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⢫⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢛⣽⡹⠆⠟⣾⡿⠂⠁⠀⠀⠤⠔⣮⣷⡴⣄⡀⢸⢿⡿⠁⠀⠀⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠰⣈⠳⢾ ⣿⢶⣭⢶⣫⣿⣾⣧⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠏⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠈⢽⢉⣷⣻⣿⣧⡯⣇⠀⠀⠐⢎⣽⢿⣿⡟⢀⠣⡌⢯⣽ ⣯⡞⣶⢣⣷⢹⢳⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⢸⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠐⡌⢱⡜⢣⣾ ⣿⡷⣿⢾⡷⣯⣿⣿⣿⡟⢭⠛⠿⢿⣿⠿⡿⢦⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⢰⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⡀⡱⢣⡝⣯⢾ ⡟⣷⢹⢮⡟⣵⢻⡿⢿⣿⣆⠃⡀⠀⠈⠙⠉⢉⠉⣉⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣽⣧⣴⣤⣷⣿⣿⣷⣽⣳⣞⣽⣻ ⠈⠐⠂⠒⠘⠂⠓⠚⠒⠚⠛⠲⢄⡁⠂⠀⡌⣀⠂⠀⠉⠛⠩⠭⠽⠭⠽⠭⠽⠛⠻⠿⠛⠟⠛⠛⠧⠐⣁⡋⣛⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣟⣾⣯⣿
⣿⣟⡿⣻⢟⡿⣛⡿⣛⣟⡻⣟⡻⣟⢿⡻⣟⢿⣻⢟⣿⣻⢿⣟⡿⣿⠿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⣿⡿⢿⣻⣏⣯⣽⣬⣃⣬⣐⣢⣬⣻⣦⣌⡩⠥⠞⢪⣩⡛⢿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣟⡾⣝⣯⢟⡽⣯⢽⡻⣜⢿⣱⢟⡽⣺⠵⣏⠿⣼⢻⡼⣭⣳⢏⡾⣝⡿⣭⢿⣹⢟⣯⢷⣻⠿⣝⣧⣟⣛⡭⣁⣀⡈⠉⠩⠙⣯⡝⢻⠿⠓⣤⢷⣻⣦⡙⡺⠿⣷⡿⣯⣟⣯⣿⣟⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣯⡽⣞⢧⡿⣹⢮⡗⣯⢽⡺⣵⢫⣞⡳⢯⡝⣯⢳⣏⢾⣱⢏⡾⣝⡾⣵⣛⢞⣵⣻⠮⢯⣳⣯⣿⣵⣶⣶⢶⡿⠿⢿⡿⣷⣦⣶⡄⡭⢅⣀⣀⢈⡹⣿⣵⡕⣍⢻⢿⣽⣯⢿⣾⣻⣽⡿⣟⣿⣾⡿⣿⣾⢿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣽⣿⡿⣿ ⣷⡹⣞⢧⡻⣵⢫⢾⡹⣎⠷⣭⢳⢮⡝⣧⢻⣜⡳⣎⠿⣜⢯⡞⣵⣛⢶⣽⣿⣻⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣟⡯⠴⣒⠈⠭⣙⢒⣌⣥⡶⠦⣿⣗⣂⢼⣿⣶⣦⠽⣿⣆⢫⢾⣳⣿⢯⣷⣟⣿⣽⣿⣻⣾⢿⣿⣽⡿⣿⣻⣷⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿ ⣾⡱⢯⣞⡳⣭⣛⢮⡳⣭⢻⡜⡯⣞⢼⣣⢟⡲⣝⢮⡻⣜⢧⣛⢶⣽⣿⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡓⣎⣵⢶⡚⡯⠿⢟⣫⣭⡶⠏⡹⣿⣯⣍⡘⢮⡹⢿⣾⣻⣞⠹⣷⢯⣿⣻⢾⣯⣟⣾⡿⣽⣿⢾⡿⣽⣿⢿⣽⣯⣿⡿⣟⣿ ⣶⢻⡝⣮⡝⣧⣛⢮⡳⣭⢳⡽⣱⢎⡷⢎⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⢮⠳⣜⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣏⣷⣿⡿⣛⣳⠴⢮⣽⡿⠻⢏⠵⡛⢀⠍⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣻⣧⢳⡙⢼⣻⢾⣽⣻⣷⣻⣽⣟⣿⡾⣿⣟⣿⣽⣿⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿ ⣳⢏⡾⣱⣛⢶⡹⣎⡗⣧⡛⣶⡹⣎⠷⣋⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣟⣽⣾⣿⣾⢫⠎⠲⢜⣓⣏⠿⣿⣻⢿⣿⣿⣧⢳⡌⣳⣻⣞⣷⢯⣟⣷⣿⣳⣿⣻⣽⣯⣿⡾⣟⣷⡿⣷⣿⣻ ⢯⡞⣵⢣⡟⣎⠷⣭⠞⣶⡹⢖⡳⡭⢯⡝⣮⢳⡝⡮⠵⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⢻⡜⡵⠃⠀⠀⠐⠓⠜⣯⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢷⡘⣧⣟⡾⣿⣽⣳⣯⢿⣞⣿⣽⣾⢷⣿⢿⣻⣿⢿⣽⣿ ⡻⣜⢧⡻⡼⢭⣛⣖⢻⡲⣝⣫⢵⢫⡳⡝⡶⢫⡼⣹⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⢳⣾⡽⣵⣿⠏⣰⢏⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡌⣗⢻⡾⣽⢷⣯⢿⣽⣻⣯⢿⣞⣯⣿⢯⣿⡿⣽⣿⣻⣾ ⣝⢮⡳⡽⣙⢧⡳⣎⢷⡹⢆⠧⣫⢗⡭⣝⡞⢧⢻⠴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⢾⣿⣿⣿⡟⣡⣺⡫⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣜⣳⣟⡿⣞⣿⣳⣯⢿⣯⡿⣽⣾⣟⣯⣿⡿⣽⣿⣻ ⢮⡳⡽⣱⢏⡾⣱⡝⣦⠓⡈⠀⢑⠪⡵⢫⡜⣏⢮⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡯⣜⡵⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣧⢚⡾⣽⢯⡷⣿⡽⣯⣷⢿⣯⡷⣟⣿⣞⣿⢿⣽⣿ ⡳⡽⣱⢏⡾⣱⢧⣛⡼⡡⢄⠢⡜⣳⡝⢧⣛⡬⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠚⠉⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⡶⠛⠉⠀⠉⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⡜⣽⢯⡿⣽⢷⣟⡿⣞⣯⣷⢿⣻⣷⣻⣽⣿⣻⣾ ⣝⡳⣭⢞⡵⣯⡞⣼⠒⠀⠀⠈⣷⡓⡞⢧⣛⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⡿⡿⢟⡛⠛⠉⠛⡍⠁⠀⠀⠀⠸⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡄⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣇⠾⣭⢿⣽⣻⢾⣽⣻⣽⢾⣻⣟⣾⢯⣷⣟⣷⢿ ⣧⢛⡖⢯⣻⢷⣫⠗⡏⠒⠀⠐⢳⡽⣙⡾⡵⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣲⣌⠼⣡⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣯⣭⣕⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⢸⡝⣯⢾⣽⣻⣞⡷⣯⣿⣻⢾⣯⢿⣳⣿⢾⣿ ⣗⣫⡜⢧⣛⣿⡐⠈⢓⡤⣤⠴⡾⣱⢻⣱⢣⡓⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡴⢛⣩⠛⠿⠛⠃⠴⠛⣿⢣⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠷⠿⠿⠮⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⡌⢿⣹⣟⣾⣳⢯⣟⡷⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⣟⣾⢿⣾ ⣯⠶⣩⠗⣮⢟⣷⣂⢯⡜⣖⢫⡕⢧⣋⢖⣳⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡱⠠⠀⠈⠉⠓⠒⠂⢀⡼⡱⢊⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢽⡇⢧⠳⣏⡾⣽⣻⢾⣽⣳⢯⣟⡷⣟⣾⢯⣿⢾ ⢧⡛⣬⢛⡴⣻⠿⡜⢳⠼⣌⡳⢎⠷⣘⢺⣣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢡⠁⠂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⠜⣁⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣧⠊⡽⡸⣝⣳⢯⣟⡾⣽⢯⡿⣽⣻⣽⣻⣞⢯ ⠣⠜⡠⢋⠼⡱⢃⠐⠂⡈⢀⠻⡼⣙⢦⠏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢂⠍⡐⠀⢀⠀⠀⢄⣪⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⣣⠝⣎⢷⣛⡾⣽⢯⡿⣽⣳⣟⣾⣳⢯⡿ ⠀⠐⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠉⠐⠠⢁⠚⡰⡉⢤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢎⡰⠠⡁⠠⠈⣐⢆⠹⢤⣦⣴⡀⠀⠠⠤⠄⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠡⡛⢬⡳⣏⡾⣝⣻⣞⢷⣻⣞⡷⣯⢿⣽ ⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⣅⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⡶⡑⠤⠁⢈⡡⢎⡘⠀⠈⠒⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⢻⠢⣙⠮⣗⢯⠷⣞⣯⢷⣛⡾⣽⣻⣞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢷⠡⠀⢰⡟⣴⣧⣵⣶⡴⣦⣤⣠⣐⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⡀⠹⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⡀⠂⠩⠪⣿⢎⡿⣱⢯⣞⣭⢟⡷⣏⠞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣼⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⠀⠀⢳⠘⡿⣿⣧⢇⣅⣀⣁⣀⣁⣠⣰⣼⠟⠁⠸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣷⢋⢄⠀⠐⡈⢯⢞⡽⣺⡜⣮⣻⡝⡎⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢆⠀⠘⣦⡙⠾⣭⣛⢒⠂⢆⠂⠶⣖⡋⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⢂⠑⢄⠈⡜⡎⢷⡡⢟⡴⣏⢾⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣣⢿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⣌⠘⡌⠥⠀⠉⠉⠉⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠧⣀⠀⠸⣙⠦⣙⢎⠶⣹⢎⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢎⣾⠃⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⢦⡀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⣷⣥⡈⠂⢹⡰⢡⢎⠳⣱⢺⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⣏⢜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡹⢞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢻⢿⣿⣦⠘⠠⢃⠎⣡⢣⠳⣎⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠸⡄⢻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣽⣲⠤⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⢌⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢿⣿⣿⣿⣽⠸⢪⢻⣿⡇⢈⢣⠒⡁⢆⠻⡔⣃ ⣀⠀⠀⠒⠠⠤⠤⠄⠀⠹⡆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢢⠘⠫⠿⠗⠘⠂⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⢬⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢆⡙⣼⣯⡇⢀⠲⡁⠖⡈⢆⠹⡔ ⡹⢮⡔⡠⢄⡠⣄⢄⡀⣠⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢌⠶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠠⢡⠘⡄⠣⢌⠒⡌ ⡑⢢⠘⡡⢋⠷⣯⣾⠟⢻⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⢣⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⢊⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢸⣿⣷⢹⣆⠂⠡⢌⠱⣈⠒⡌ ⠈⡀⢣⠰⡁⠚⠋⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠰⠑⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢂⡜⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣹⣼⣆⣿⣣⢿⣿⣀⠁⠌⡒⢄⠣⡐ ⡺⡅⠃⢆⣁⠠⠀⣀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠐⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢂⠜⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢄⢸⣿⣧⣯⣿⣟⣾⣿⠟⠹⠚⠭⣓⠦⡑⠠ ⣿⡽⠓⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡦⣿⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢉⠂⡎⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣷⡌⢿⣿⣷⣟⣻⠟⠁⡠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠑⢌⡡ ⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠐⠀⠠⠃⡜⡰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⠀⠡⡘⢄⡳⣭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠐⡈⠆⡱⢌⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣘⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠘⡀⢎⢎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣹⣁⡴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢀⠀⡈⡶⠀⣴⠟⠃⣠⠿⠩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡌⣚⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢿⣿⣿⣯⣿⡱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠔⠁⠀⣿⡄⣏⠀⠢⣄⣀⣺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣐⠯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣅⠈⣻⣿⣿⡿⡯⡓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢄⠊⢀⡀⠀⠀⠘⢷⣭⣛⢚⡿⣟⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢨⠓⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣋⢻⣿⡟⣿⠻⣷⡜⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠚⡄⠀⣀⣀⢉⡿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣯⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣎⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⠟⡱⢠⣿⣿⡿⠇⠀⢹⡇⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
ᴳᴵᴿᴸ'ᔆ ᶠᴬᵀᴬᴸ ᶠᴬᴸᴸ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴾᴼᴼᴸ ᔆʸᴰᴺᴱʸ⸴ ‧ ᵀᵘᵉˢᵈᵃʸ‧ — ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ⸴ ¹²⸴ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱᶜ ᴴⁱᵍʰʷᵃʸ⸴ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ⸴ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡⁱᵐᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒˢˢ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵂᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᶠᵒˡⁱᵃᵍᵉ ᵍʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵖⁱᵖᵉ‧ ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ᴳᵒʳᵍᵉ — — — ^ — — — ᔆʸᵈⁿᵉʸ⸴ ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ²⁹‧— ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁽¹²⁾ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁵ ᶠᵗ‧ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵒʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵘˢⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒᵒᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ‧ ᴬ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵖᵉⁿᵉᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ʲᵃʷ ʷᵃˢ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˡʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵇᵘˡᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴴᵒʳⁿˢᵇʸ ᴴᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/102416085/doreen-watsford https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/206856573 https://newspaperarchive.com/broken-hill-barrier-miner-jun-30-1943-p-1/ Doreen June Watsford Doreen's barely a tweenager when she slipped near a rocky grotto by her cousins home. Doreen lost her footing balance on some unstable terrain crumbling down below with her. Doreen's lifetime was c. 193X-194X BURIAL Rookwood General Cemetery Rookwood, Cumberland Council, New South Wales, Australia PLOT Anglican Sect 15 grave 2539 MEMORIAL ID 102416085 ·

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