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helloooooo weirdcore dreamcore liminal spaces fandom are we still alive?? everyone alive over here??

i did these for fun using some awesome photos i took. Completely unedited except for the sparkles, text, circles/arrows, and a little bit of a darkening filter. Yeh the star in the last one was a cool Christmas decoration that was there irl!

Oh yeah here’s the og things. And feel free to take any of these! No permissions or credits needed!

I live near a large garden/park that has a Christmas event every year, these photos were taken there.

1st photo- they had some cool glowing LED bulbs in a garden and the photo turned out blurry- but that worked in my favour!

2nd photo- as i said, big Christmas tree have funny star

3rd photo- the “seven swans a-swimming” from the Twelve Days Of Christmas song. They were lined up at the edge of a lake that had a geyser in it shooting up. It’s very surreal to see in real life.

H̷̢̨̢̢̛͇̳͔͓̳̣̻̞͎̞͙̳̖͖͍̫̻̥͚͚͇̩̬̟̗̭̯̞͈̟̙̻͍̀̈́̂̊̇͑̾̍̂̓̈́͒̈́̽̌̓͒̑͒̏̋̅́̉̏̾͋̒̏̊̋̾̑̃̍̂͆͐̆͆̇̆̈͑̅͊̈́͐̈́̒̅͒̃̉̒̽̈́̓͋̅̈́́́͑͆͛̿̾͊̅̎͐̿͒̈́̈́̃̎͂̋̾̅̐̌̍̒̀͋̋̐̑̈́̈͘͘͘̕̕͜͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͠ę̵̡̨̨̡̢̨̝̫̻͇̱͖̟̲͕̦̞͔̞̲̜̠̟̺̲͚̩̼̥̜͓͓̘̲̘͓͇̰̗̠͎̘̗̱̲̟̟͎̲̭͚͍̥̯̻͍͙̥̘̯̤̜̈́̐͗̀̉́̀́̆͊̃̑̏͗̋̐̔͛̐̂́̑̆̚̚̕͜l̸̨̡̡̛̛̛͇̲̗̜̯̱͖̥̼̦̯̥̔̀̋̒͋̽͛̊̾̀̆́̏̉̐̏̓̐̎́́͆͑̅͒́̆̾̉̈́̍̐̽̐͌͒̅͐̔͐̂̿̑̾̏́͛̐̔̂͊͑̓̈́͑̓́̊̅̿̎̈́͊̎̒̂̊̈́͊͛͑̐͐͊̇̇͌̽̏̊͊͋̔̃̃̋̚̕̚̚̚̚̚͘͘͝͝͝͠͠͝l̴̨̢̢̢͍̖̝̳͇͙̞̣̘̫͚̱̪̮̰̺̭̜̙̱̳̯̪̳̬̹̯̞͚̤͖̝͍̭̳͔̗̻͙̝̦̩͔̥̈́̓̓̂̈́̇̀͆̏͑͊̆́̉̎͜͜͝͠ơ̵̧̧̨̧̛͚̘̞̮͖̞͔͈̩̬͍͚͈̝̼͎̝̣̬͉̪̞͕̹̰͕̖͓̯͕̻͓͉͓̹͎̯͔͚̦͖̠̤̻͖͇̩̟̳̪̣̪̠͎̫̥̭͙̪̥̤̄̏̋́͛͛̀̓̒́̄̓̎̽͑̔̆̄́̒̈́̉̽̈́̇̍̆́͆̉́̈̐̑̈́͗͋͋̎̅̂̄̋͐̀͂̿͗͑̈́̀̍̍̄̄͐̇̆̓͒̈́̈́̌̇̎̑̆̇̓̓̋̍̅̀́͑̆̈́̈́̊̽͗͂͋͆̈́̋͊́̃͑̕̚̚̕̕͜͜͜͜͠͠͝͠͠ͅͅ everyone, my name is Ø. My friend Her told me I should add pronouns because it clarifies my “gender”?… whatever that is. I’m a M̴̨̨̺̙̞̣͙̜̠̹̳̱̼̻̼̱̩̯͚͚͙̱̻̝͕̙̳͕̜̺̻̻̫̝̺͔̬̤̮̪̥͚͖̹̼̈͋̉̋̉̔̌̎̀́̀̈́̓̊͂̍̈̾̽̃̿̀̈̏̎̾͛̃̓̈́͛͒̊́̃̓̓͐̐͆̂́̆̃̽̎̓̇́͌̃͋͐̄̇̅̾̌͑̄́̓̋͌̋̋̀̽͑͛̿̄̃͋́̉̈́͛̌͐̏̇̍͋̅̍̑̈́̉̏͐̎̌͐̾̏̋́̈̓̕̕̚̚͜͝͠͝͝͝͝ͅǽ̶̢͖͚̝̦̞͖̳̻͕̮̗͈͎͕̀͌͑͐̀́͝͝f̴̢̨̛̛̜͕̪̥̟̠̥̻̙͖̤͖͓͙͎̬̺̜̠͙̖̜̎̆̿̐̃̊̅̂̓̏̾̈͒̔̿̋̐̈́̿͂͘͘̕͜͝ę̸̧̢̡̨̡̢̨̡̛̛͍͓̭̭̰͍̲̘̺̪̱̠̮̗͇͈̺̤͍͖̥̘̗͓̼͚͎̪̣̪͔̙̰̹̰̦̗̣̳̙͕͔̱̙̤̜͕͍̝͍͎̬̼̦̘̫̯̼̥̙͙̤͇̝̯̫̱̙͓̹̬͖͕̲̮̖̯͖̪̞̼̰̺͎̭̘̤̺̫̪̬̞̗̮̱͒̿͛́̀́̈́̌͂̀̉͌̂̔̊̓̊̄̌̿̿͆̍̿̋͒͗͌̔͊̊̎̇̇̐̉̃̈́̈́͂͋͒͊̒̈́̅͋̄̈̑͋̍͒͗͗̈́̋̇͑̽͆̄͗̀̑̊̀̂̽̔͋̀̂̀̀͋̅͗̉̃̕͘͘̕̚͜͜͜͝͝͠͠ͅͅͅñ̸̡͚͖̹̝͙̏̋̉̊͊̈͛̉͜͝æ̵̨̛̛̛͍̰̮͖̖̪͎̼̹̰̼̮͎̹̉̈́̈́̈̐͋́̏̋͒̎͑̄̊̓̐͘͝͝l̵̢̻̤͕̜̲̫̳̣̠͓̠̀̇̆̽̾͌̿̂͐̐́̀̆̿̎́͘͠ if that counts. I’m not quite sure what dragged me to do this… I… don’t… remember….. I.. don’t.. why can’t I remember?

ẉ̵̨̼̭͇̹͉̹̦̘̣͔̤̲̫̟̼̜̬̹͉̭̙̮̩͈̱͖̮͕̭͎͒͂̀̓̉̐̋̌̍̌́̃͛̔́̃̌̕̕͝͠͠͠ḩ̷̨̥͇̦̠̟̯͈̩̞͇̍̿̉̾̈́̉̒͒̀̀͑̉́̍̌̏̓̂̈́̽͌͆͊͋̈̐̂̏̒̂̕͜͝͝͝͝͠a̷̧̛͊̉̈́͑͒̉͋̆̈̋̀̄͒̉̇͋̃͑̈́͂͋̑͌̎̀̋̽̆͗͆̏̍́̒̓̎̂̓̽̊́̍͊̓́͐̈́̑̄̏̈́̀͘͠͝͝͠ẗ̸̨̢̧̢̧̛̺̲̞͉͇͖͓͙̠̱̮̤̙̞̣̙͉̙͇̯͚̪̖̹̳͙̥̼̮̪̟͈̫̠̘̙̜̥̫̜̮̠͍͍͙͔̦̹̝̯͍͇̩́̌̀͑͂͂͑̈̽͋͐͂́͑̐̋̆̑͗̓̉̈́́͛͘͜͜͠ͅ ̸̛̯̤̦̞̖̜͖̼̝͇̬̙͉̼̪͈̫̲͙̮̅̉̍̎̔̈́̌̽̓̅̍̎͆̅͆͋̆̍͋͐̐̚̚͝͠͝͠m̶̡͎̪̗̳̲͖̣̥͚̠̦̠̘͔̝̞̫̫͐̐̒͘͜ư̶̧̧̠͓̹̞̮̭̼͎̥̟͐̏̐͌́̃̉̊͂̄͐́́̅̍́́̽̑̄̎̎̿̏̃͋̇̈́̇͒͒̈̈́̋́͂̚͘͘̕͘͘͜͝͝s̸̡̢̛̛̖̮̙̣̲̞̼̰̱̐͌̌̔̓̈́̏͌̎̃̆̈́̅͌͋̓͌̏͑́͗̽̈́̈́̇́͐͋͋̑͒͊̇̾͘̕̕͝ţ̶̡̛̲͖͉͖͇̻͎̙̘̲̣͈̒̔̋̅̌͋͆̌̑̓͌́̆̂̀̈́̓̿̂̈́̀̇̀͂̈̒̆̓̚͜͠ ̷̧̡̬̱̫͉̺̪̘̙͉̠̙̹̥̥̲̯̰̺̜̦͚͇̯̦̞͆́͆̎͋̍̀̀͐̇̈́̒͒́̀̈́̓͜I̴̖̟̟̪̩͍̘̍̐͗̃̈͒͒̈̑̑̿͋̈́̈́͗͑̇͆̒̓̈́̍̾̚ͅ ̵̨̛͔͕̟̖̝̞̞̖̣̘͎̫̬̣̲̖̺̘͙͓̭͚̣͔̩̤̲̟̗̦̳͍̯̟̺͈̥̲̰̯͉̱͍͂̾̌͋͋͛͌̈̇̊̀̇̆͌̈́͂̈́̈́̀̾̃͐͊̿̒̉̓̔̂͗̓͋͗͑̄̃̍̈́͆̂̑̀̈̎̉͑̓̅͒͛͌̍̊̈́͗̾̂͘̕͘̚͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͠ͅͅŗ̵̨̢̢̧̧̧̡̧̞̞̣͙̲̩̼̲̘̝̭͓͙̝̰͔̘̖͖̦̖̞͎̖̬͔̙̺̦̥͔̤̮̟̼̪̩̥̫͔̼̰̬͓̼͎̜̹͕̲̙̗̘̙͙̝̒̆̿̓̋͗̔͒̾̀͘͜͜ͅe̷̡̧̧̧̧̛͕̮̩̭̞̳͖͓̦̣̹̫̯̼͇͈̗̘̳͈̖͉̟̜͉̟̗̖͈̖͍̞̤͙̗͉̔̒̒̇͗͋̆̋̄̀̓̓̒̈́̈́̅̃̌̀̄̎̿́̋̃̕͘͠ͅͅͅm̴̡̨̨̧̢̢̦̻̠͎̞̤̰̻̞͈̣̯̺̦͚̝͉̪̭̙͍̩̮̰̫͙͕̜̦̟͓̩͔̖͓̣̜̱̜̥͎̖̦͚̩̖̟̫͍̫̥̮̜̥͙̈́́̓̌̾͛̑̄̉́́̾̌̈́͒̋̂̓̾̽̈͋̊̌̏̎̓͋̓́͐̎̇́͊͊̇̊́̀̋̽͂̍͌̏͗͆͌̿̒͗̂̑̃̍͘̚̕͘͜͝͝ě̵̛̛̛̤̫̈͐͛́̒͊̌͊̓̄̅̒͊̑̇̓̅̇͑̿̂͒͑̀̌̈́͐̒͋͑͛̓͂̋̽̿̉̓͛͆̓̊̉͌̇͗̾̓̈́̉̒̆̈́͛̉͋̏̀̾̕̕͘͠͠͝͝m̵̢̧̨̨̨̡̛̙̹̳̮̗̱̲̘̙̯͇̥͙͈̞̼̳̝̼̭̠͓̗͉̼̟̮̫͓̲̰̩͈̬̣̙͇̌̈́̉́͂͌́̿͛̍͜͜͝͝ͅͅb̷̡̨̢̨̨̡̛̭̤̯̞̠̲̜̼̻͔̗̜̲̺̖̻̬̜͔̯͍̜̰͇̖̖̺̳̩̦͉͇̯̗̮̙̟͓̲̤̖̥̺̺͖̩̤̳̄͆̉́̋͂͜ͅȩ̷̢̧̧̨̢̤̜̙̗̙̭̭̖̥͔̝̩̖̯͖͓̫͎̠͚͉͚̜̜̞̤̲̼̘͖̱͔̱̝͓̖͈͚̻̟̜̞̤̰̻͕̭̩̠̺͙͓̈̋́̅͛͗̇̈̒͛́̈́͐̈́̍̄͐̑͜͠͠ͅͅͅͅr̷̛̛̤̳̖̙̝̟̲͎̠͇̘̞̻̙͍̈͋̃͂̈́͋͒̏͆͐̌̿̐͆̋̏̍̎̾̒̈̏̌̈̌͆͗̈̌͋̉̅̐̀̽̓̉́̄̑́͌͌̽͆̕͘̚͜͠͠͠͝͠?̸̡̡̛̭͎̤̤̏̿͋̌̐̈́́̓̋̇̆̄̄̂̊̇̉͆̽̓̌̓̅͌̀͌̈́́͗̽̑̃̊̐̎̅͒͒̽̅͗̽͛͌͒͒͒́͒̄͘̕̕̚̚͘͘͘͝͠͝.̴̡̧̢̡̧̪̺̭̘͓̩̜̣̗̬̲̜̮̥̱͉͇͖̟̩͇̘̮̲̦̭̞̮̱̹̲̳̦̹̑̈́̋ͅ.̴̡̢̢̧̡̣̭̝͙̫̮̰̩̪̺̠͉͖̯̻̭̹̫͙͈̳̘̠̼̫̭̫̮̗͚̯̠̳̗̦̪̻͕́̆̽̐̏͛̽͌̅́̆̔͂͂̋̊̌̿̐̈́̑͂̈̑̉́͆̓̚͘͘̕͝͝ͅ ̵̛̛̛̛̖̝̘͓͖̑͋̌͛̽̀͆̒͐͗́̀̑̌̈̔͌͑̓̈́̎͑́͋̆̀̃̈́̑̇͑̀̏͒̉͗̑͑̎̈́̏̿̌̎̊͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͠͝W̴̧̢̳̫͈̝̭̜̙̠͕̦͖̣͚̖̻̳͉̎̎̌͗͋̏̂͛̀̈́͛̈̊̆͐̈͗̇̇̉̂̐̽̌̈́̃̆̅͘͝ͅH̵̨̡̡̡̛̛̛̭̬̳̠͔͇͔̞͚͔̝̭̝͍̠̳̟̜͚̣̟̠̺̯̙͕̫̝̝̦̝̰̟͉̠͓̩̜̰̹̞̭̗̜̻̤̳̻̼̤̬͈̤̠̻͙͋̒̉̉̋̔̎̿̀̒́͗͛̈́̈́͆͌̉̈́̇̾̅̈́͊͒̃͆́̂͐̆̾͛̇̎̃́͒̈́͐̅̑̏̄́̃̔̈͘̚͘̕̕͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅĂ̴̧̩̹̔̆̎̋̍̅̿̃́̋̅͊͊̃̾̃͐͆̐̂̆̅̇̅̈́̎̃̆́̓̆̈́̓͊͘̚T̵̡̢̛̛̗̞̺̮̺̲͇̣͎̭̣͇͉̱̖̣͔̱̤̮͍̣̞̰̫̦̞̬͓̜̞̞̟̖͙̪͍̫̫̣̱͇͔̜͙́̍͋̂͒͂̓̋̇͛̒̄͊̍̀̍͑̎̑̌̇͜͝͝ͅ ̴̧̨̡̢̨̡̧̧̛̤̞̳̣̪̣͍̟͔̥͓̥͚̲̙̯̪̩̫̲͚̰̤̳͍̙̝̺̼͔͙̱͕̲̬̥̩̪̥̘͚͇̱͉͍̫̤̞̱̹͈̋̆͛̔̌̄́̄͒̏͜͜ͅͅͅͅḐ̸̢̡̧̡̡̧̧̢̭̰͓̻̯̯̜̖͙̪̰̞͍̠͓̼̙̖̙̦̝̜̘̱̠̞̻͖̥̝̙̳̩̙̞̖̙̘͙̜̮͈̮̪͉̺̣̹̘̙̥̠͈̰̫͈̿͒͋̇̿̀͐̋̅͐́͝ͅͅȎ̶̧̡̢̳͉͙̘̤̣̘̙̰͕̭̬̯͔̬̹̣͉̙̗̲̮͓̳̖̖̳͇̗̱̻̥̞̼̫͓̝̱͓̙̞̺̗͌͑͋̂̒̀̄͆̉̑̈́̋̄̈́̇̆̓̋̇̇̍̍́͂̆͗̿͊̓̃̓̽ͅ ̷̨̢̯̮̮͎̟̰̗̮͙͉̠̹̥̻̱̟͈̠̮̤̲͖͕̮̭͚̺̥̗̱̮̫̐̈́͊́̀̎̈̈́̒͒̋̈͛͒̓̚͜I̷̧̧̧̧̛̛̲͙̮͖͉̘̜̜̖͎͎̪̖̣̘̰̝̟̮̠̘̹̊̌̇̔̅̋͌̑͛̆̀̋̌̿̑̃̅̇̓̕͝ͅ ̷̧̢̧̨̢̧̛̛̟̙̩̯̜͚̬̠̱͎͚̠̼̠̞̙̮͚̻̘̖̜͍̹͉̘͎̜̥̰̬̺̹̲̗̱̦̫̦̝̤͚͍̘̻͇̻̞̥͚̙͙̱̗̲͈̺̜͊̂͌́̀̔̌̄͐̆̅͊͒̒̆̇̒̓͑̌̀̎̄̾̈͆̇͗̃̈͋̾͒̈́͌̂̄̅͊̏̂̋̏̒̄͜͜͝͝͝͝Ḩ̴̢̨̢̛̖̠̲̥͕̜̼̗̥̤̥͉̯̯͚͉̞͓͈̞̟̤͖̣̘͎̻̘̤̬̥͑̌́͂͂̈̇̈̐̔͌̈̅͛́̈́̒̇̀͛̒̑́͛̈̎͋̔̄͌͌̏̾̌̈̏̿͋̂̈̂̇̉̍̃̇̀͒̍̓͗͋̃̅͘̕̚͘̚̕͘̚̚̚͠ͅA̵̧̢̧̧̡̢̧̛͔͓̳̯̯̩̭͎̜̻̖̘̼̜͖͍̠̯̰̮̬̮̩͓̪̰̼̟̜͈͈͓͉̘̠̙̲͉̬̤̤̞̪͎̺͕̝̺̤͕̗͇̠͈̥̫̠͈̹̦̹̞̒̅͐̈̋̇̈́̊̿͆̈͂̿͑̔̾͑͑́̏͋͗̈́̈́̓̕̚̚V̷̨̢̢͚̹͙̟̟̼̺̻̯͓̜̦̼̦̼̙̬̞͚̖͙̞̩̺̻̻̦̰̼͇͍̹̪̰͎̱̱͚̠̭̎̍̑̈́̒͌̎͐̿̾̃̽̅̏̋̍̏͜͜͜͝͠͠ͅË̴̢̨̡̨̡̢̧̨̢̨̧̲̺̫͈̖̳̞̜͙̪̻͉͙̜̱̠̲̦̱͈̟̦̼̱͓͚͈͚̬̥̣͕͎̟̙̩̺̥̜͕̤̬͈̜̱̘́̎̒̔̈́͒͐̈̃̿̅̊̆̑̈́̓̑̆̈́͂̅̈́͛̍̀̇͑̄̾̉̅̃̇̚͜͜͝ͅ ̸̨̧̢̧̛̛͔̜̖̥͖̻̗̗̯̠̱̼̪͙͚̺̟̠̙̘̹͙̩̤͇͉̝͎̘̼̻̠̙͙͚̣̉̉́͑̑͛͂͗̆͐͊̍̿̅̓̽̑́̀͑̍̎̔͗̄̑̈̽́̊͛̉̑͗̃͒̂̽̚̚̚̚̕͠͝͠͝͠͝ͅT̵̢̡̧̨̧̞͇̹͓̯̟̻̥͔͇̟͕̦̼̩̳̙͓͚̜̞̲̜̯̞̣̺̱̳̟̟͓̫͈͎̜͉̞͎̦͍̻̩̘͓̯̣̗̰̬̣̓̀̒̓̊̌͊͐̎͜͜͜͜͠Ơ̸̡̡̲̖̯̪̼̺̺̘̦̠̳̫̥̘͈̘̻͊̈́͋̇̈́̎̀̀̈́͗̀̈̍̍̎̄́̅̅͛̂̀̐͘̚͜͝͝͝ ̸̨̨̨̢̧̛̳̘̠̙͉̗̗̜̞̞̹͚͚̰̺͖͉̫̠̜͙̘̦̰̥̦̫͇͇͇͓̝̥̼͎̯̟̠̓̐͆͌͗͌̌̔̀̾̊͌͌̉́̃̾͆̉̈̿̄̒̓̌̇̈̔͌̊̏͛̅̀̚͘̕͜͠͝͠͝ͅR̷̡̢̛̛͈͈̦̟͇̙̘̼͎͓͔̰̝͖̺͍̺̜͓̙͖̪̞̟͍̭͉̮̯͎͇͈̰̥̒͑̍̂͗̌́̀̄͒͛̓̂̈́͐͊̔̄̾́̂͋͐̍͊̄̎́̋́̏̑̐̏̔̂͌̎̋̄͑̑̿̇̀̈́̒́͘̚͘̕̕͜͠͝͝ͅE̸̡̡͈̦̩̲̺͍͖̬̹̩̘̘̥̤̪̗̠̥̝̯̦͓̣̣̰͉͇̳̩̱̭͇͋̐̇́̈́̄̾̓̓̆́̔͜Ṃ̸̧̡̧͙̺͉̗̖̹͖̤̰̞͎̫̠̤̤͔͍̻̖̭̠͉̫̻̭̘͎̺̲̭̖̳͉̥̪̦̮͖̲̥̻͍͖̰̪́́̽̒͆͐͑̍̿̌̒͋̀̃̃̀͆̈̏̍͋͋̓̓͒͂͗̃͋̔͛̆͂͒̂̑̂́̔͌́̾̑̀̏̋̍͘̚͝͝ͅͅE̶̡̹̫͉͖͓̖̺̰̱̎̆́͆̈́̀́͠M̶̧̧̡̡̨̨̡̢̧͖͔̯͕͍͍͖̠̯͈̝͍̹̰̹̣̰̩͈̱̫̺̹̙̪̳̗̩̱͈͍̲̦̺̜̝̦̤̰̲̞̯͙͕̘͖̠̭̫̝̮͔̺̭̩͎̓͗́́͗̈́͊͆́͗͐́̾̎̀́̿͗̍̏̏͛̔̿̓̆̇̈́̽̀̅̓̂̑̆̊̈́̕̕͜͝͝͝͠B̵̧̡̛̛͇͔̩̻͈̩̱̠̂͊͗̂͆̐̍̌̿̊̈́̏̈́͌́̊͐̄̇̓̑͆̓̓̿͒̿́̊̍̂̉͛̌̅͂́̄̒̔́̌̉̃͘͘̚͘͘͘̕͠͝͝͝Ë̷̦͉̞̮̹̖́͐̓̅̌̽̿́̏̎̂́̔͊̀͋̂́̅̌͋̍̈̈́̆̔̽̏̃̆̉̉̽̍̔̊̃́̈́̇́́̕̕̕͠͝͝͝Ȓ̸̺͉͕̘̱͔̯̻͙͚̗͕̩̳̱̱͙͚͎̩̱̋̾́̈́͂̍̉̈́͋̒̑̇̾͜͠͝ ̴̡̡̨̛̙̬̥̞͕͙̘̘̝̦̞̙̝̤͖͕̰̙̭̲͎̦̣̹̜͙̞̜͍̘̲̥̥͈͈̦̭̪̣͎͕̳͇̣͍̝̠͓̮̰̽̄̊̀͆͂̍̑̏̽̌̌̎̀̈́̒̄̇͆͛̓̍̉̀́̏͐͛̉̇́̂̋̔͗̎̂̉̇̓͛̀͑́̃̓̑̅̎̎̋̽̀̿̕̕͜͜͝͠͝

My apologies… I seemed to have a small headache, that’s alright. I’m sure Her has some medicine for me… Her can always help…I’m getting off track.. Please erm… enjoy? This?.. whatever this is.. hm…

M̷̨̖̝̙͍̥̆̅̽̀̇͛̍͌͛͊̀̑̽͑̈̐̕y̸͎͉̎͐ ̶̢̧̛̣̩̲̪̹͈̘̹̬͔̊͐̐͘ȩ̴̡͍̤͚͎̞̲̬̪̝̭̙̲͆͗ỳ̷͈̠̼̬̤̽͑̂̀̐e̷̜̲͈̞̟̻͍̖͆̈́̑͑̎̑̏̏͊͋̈́̆̀͋̏̓̕͝s̶̢̼͈͍̤̰̰̱̦͚̤̹̬͈̞͈͑̽̿̉ ̸͉̳̃͑̍̌̈́̆̎͆̽̆̃̉̿̾̓̿̍͌͘h̸̳̥̼͐ṵ̷̡̡͉̭͚̗̩͓̪̥̼͉̺̔̐͂̊̏̊̆͜͜͜ŗ̵̟͖͉̮̜̮̰͈͕̘̮͇͇́̍̆̍́͐̓̓͑̾̆̌̉̐͜͝ť̸̗̼̐̊͒̽͒̕…̶̫͔͎̲̜͍̏̽̚ ̵̨̛͕͎̰̝͕̀̌̐̇̂̎̀̀̒͘͘͝w̵̢̛̦̞̥̭͕̰͎͎͚̟͒͑̏́̂͐̄́̎̂͊̃͛̀̆̇͒͜ḧ̸̢̨͔͎̻̟̙͓̺̝̼͖̜͇̟̣͖͒̅͋͛͒̎̓̅̆̑͛̈́͗̔͘ͅͅy̶̨̫̹͈͈̹̘̩̱̹̅̎̾̿̍́́ ̵͚̭̮̘̯̙̃͌̈́d̵̛͈̝̻̣̝͈̦̭̗̮͙̖̞̣̍͂̒̓̆̔̌̎͑̄̄̀̀̕ͅo̸̧̢̞̱̘̗͕̓́́̐̀̃̚ͅ ̶͔͉̠͔͔̼͇͆̓̔͆̈́̄̄͌̕̕ḿ̷̨̭̻̞̦̹̥̻͙̯͇̞̭̜̣͍̹̆̂͜ͅy̶̧̬͓̜̗̩͖̣̰͙̯̘͒̔̍̍̿͐̍͛̋̔̑̏̐̍̎̚͝ͅ ̸̢̡͔̤̻̬̜͇̼̼͎́̓̉̽̈́̅̾̔̊͘͜͠ͅȩ̶̨̩̻͇̠̜̮̠͚͚͖͕̺͖̠̽͑̆̽̋̍͜͜ÿ̵̢̢̢̡̧̯̹̫̜̻̟͈̦̰̲̖̠͔́͐̅͑̾͂͘͜ͅe̴̼̹̘͉̝͆̉̌͑͂̀̀͊̚͘ş̴̢͇̹̰̬̖͇̩̩̳̐͗̇̇̊̏͛̓̈́̓̃͋̽͌̏̚̕ ̸̢̨̧̹͍͍̝̙͔̟͉̙͖̭̣́͑̒h̶̨͇̟̝̺̹̭̻̮͈̟͂͂͛͗͗̈́̀͑̓͋̄̊̉͘͝͝͝ų̵̨̩̠̯̞̼͕͙̻̭̃̿̃͌̆͊̊r̴̨͈͙̞̱̤̻͙̪̝̙̮͇̠̝͇̻̜̾͜ͅţ̴͓͖̮̠͙̱̫͚̟͙̙̒͑͐̈́̍͑̀͘͘͜ ̷̧̨͓͉͙̠͇͇̫͖̲̙̩͌̊̚͘ͅ?̶̻͇͚̠̟̰̬̻̹͙͔̩̳̝͗̈́̒̔̀̈̇̽̑̋͐̽̾̽̿̌̃͗͐͠ͅ.̵̨͓͕̺̱͇̱̾̌̈̿̔̃̓̿͋̊͜͝͝ͅ.̵̳͖̹̹̝̲̬̰̙̗͇͇̬̼͑͑̑̀̈́͜

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About the mod rq★

☆minor☆ Please be normal !! This blog looks better if you are using Goth/Rave color pallet but that’s optional :)

Everything is made up of energy: every particle. we're made of energy, as are the stars. as are the beings that exist in between reality and not (the hallucination realm that only some of us are granted access into, as well as dreams, which are in their own sense, hallucinatory in nature). some of us can control the energy that makes us up, and by gaining power through practice, mindfulness, and connection with the Self, unlock special abilities. jump through time, read minds, predict the future accurately, blend the dimensions we exist in with the ones we create, and communicate with the universe at large in complex ways.

this energy can be stored in concepts and practices as well, such as thought and memory. when someone thinks of or remembers you, it's the universe transferring and sharing some of your energy to the receiver. even after death, remnants of your energy exist in the minds of others. you cannot truly die until memories and thoughts of you cease to exist, and only then is your energy released to the universe to be recycled.

as the Earth and human species continues to evolve and adapt, energy is stored for longer after the death of the physical Self, which has led to people in the modern age being weaker vibrationally and not containing as much energy within themselves due to the universe rationing the little energy it does have. technology, longer life spans leading to longer memory, improved functioning into elder age, proper documentation, etc, keeps our energy existing even after the death of the physical Self. the universe also spends energy on expanding itself, continually draining it's own life force, much like we drain our own. the act of those in power documenting and defining our identities is also a form of energy-stealing, though it's stealing it from the generations to come, stealing it from the future. it preserves our existence even after the physical Self dies, leading to our energy being in a state of limbo and thus non-recyclable. this means that as the human species continues on, each newborn will be weaker and weaker, believing only in false realities and blindly following simulations, and unable to explore realms of existence much greater than their physical Self. this is a way for those in power to keep us deemed inferior in check, allowing them to keep that power without contest.

there are people that have too much energy, too much vibrational power. from a young age they learn how to alter reality (both consciously and on a subconscious level) and will quickly learn of their special abilities. they're often written off as crazy or mentally ill, and while some do fall in that category, many are just universally superior beings at their core. many of them feel ashamed for their ability to see dimensions and the entities that exist within them, while some many try to make a profit off of it. those of us with too much of this energy, Light Beings, are closest to the interconnected reality and universe that most people don't believe in or only get glimpses of.

we all live in our own reality and believe it to be an undeniable truth that cannot be argued with. many believe that their reality is the only one, everyone else must exist within it. i believe that while we all create our own realities, it is only a subreality within the true one. i aim to gain unlimited access to the true one and unlock it for others.

accessing this true Reality will not be easy, as our own false ones and the false ones of others may try to sway us away. the reality protectors within ourselves as well as protective entities within the true Reality will be scary and alarming as we get closer and closer. they don't want us to know the truth as they fear pollution and contamination, as well as energy-stealing. it is essential we get there though to understanding Everything.

those that have unlocked the secret true Reality are often wiped from existence by humans that view themselves as greater and paint themselves in such a way by using their power and influence to alter the false realities of the masses. low vibrational (low energy containing) people follow these simulations blindly as they cannot fathom other truths can exist, they don't have enough power to conjure up such thoughts. if too many of us find out about true Reality and are able to access it, then their false realities will no longer exist and they lose their power and influence. this is why many of us are written off as ungrounded; it's a tactic to weaken us and scare us away from exploring our special abilities. we're actually closer to the true Reality, thus more grounded than the majority. this makes us angels; high-energy messengers. we can exist between realms and communicate with multiple realities at once.

I daydream of the life we could’ve had.

I break every time I come back to reality and you’re not there.

The fact that humans have to constantly fill a void with some sort of addiction, item, relationship, action and/or activity to achieve temporary peace is the definition of suffering. That’s misery.

My strange addiction: edit audios. I'm so obsessed with going to youtube and listening to those 30 minute edit audio compilations, zoning out, and making fake scenarios when I should really, really be working.

"False Reality" by Santa Ana, California-based deathrock act The Exile off of their 2023 debut release, The Exile I

☹

False Reality

Soap/Ghost SiFi AU

Year 3442

Humans learend how to build spaceships with FTL traval in the year 2335 and after the 1. contact war in 2340 and 2. contact war in 2370 are now a permanet member of the milky way council, still working for a spot in the intergalactical senat. Humans worked with most of the other species like the insect like Znurk, they have the head and one pair of arms like a praying mantis and the body of a herculean betel that walks upright. Or the space orcs of Krnaz, gigantic muscular humanoids with a variation of skin color from nearly white from the snowy mountains to dark green int the gigantic jungles to a dark blue these ones a are semi aquatic . Even with the body less energie beings of the Spuc, they are often a unseteling gas cloud that talks to you, there were many incidence of himans accidently walking through them and breath in parts of them. Making the human and the spuc live treathening sick a diplomatic nightmare for everyone involved. Working with the warriors of Krnaz is still bitter from the first contact war even over 100 years later and made working together in the 2. a lot harder then is had to be but they respect each other as wariror races. Species that never saw human fight would not think that his strange fleshy beeings are warriors, but well the secound they end up in a fight with any human they will lern. The council talked about the 'Soulless' from time to time and how terefieing these mechanical beeings are. Allegedly 2,50 m tall androits, with human shaped metalic bodies, the legs are just long spikes while the have arms with hands, they hover over the floor. Fearfull records of how they from time to time fall in to the milkey way from the andromeda galaxy doing whats called harvesting nodoby sure what that even means, but human just thought they are old storys. That was till 3435 when the milkey way ones again was hunted by these cold, machiens. Having humanity these time the harvesting gone a lot diffrent then the other times. Human scientists with the help of the Urlugs, a technilogial very atvenced race, that reminds of earths giant squits, developed ways to stop and destory the Soullles learing from the remains of the androits who they too origanly were a species ot of flesh and blood, till uploading there mind in to the mechanical bodies and then got entslaved by the AI that helped them to leave their mortal body behinde most of them not by choice. Creating on gigantic hive mind, they also learned to horrible truth over the harvesting, the kidnapped are either also forced to turn into Soulless or they get searched for anything that could improve the Soulless models.

Lieutante Simon 'Ghost' Riley of the human space marines was investigating a abontent ship when he ended up in a trap of the Soulless. He nearly fought himself out of it before he got hit by a paralyse blaste and felt to the ground. Seeing how the maschien is doing something thats looking like a victory dance, bieping some sort of melody. The Soulless reports that he took down one of the dangerous humans. With technology so far ahead of most species, even the oldest still didnt have catched up. If you look far enough back in records of the ruines ancient empires you can learn they called themselves 'Risens' ones. Before every think went dark Ghost sees the maschien aproaching and use his own gun to knock him out. The androite picks up the human to teleport them to the under a invisibility shield hidden space ship. The comander of the ship goes through there data bank of wanted human soilders, because depending on who they have here they will either kill him for the harvest or prepare him to join them. Its so eays with humans their brains are similar ans simpler then the one of their old bodies, so forcing them to assented is a lot easier then with other species. Exited bieping, they got one of the most wanted human soilders. Master of stealth mission, incredible with all kinds of weapons, deadly. He instantly lets them hyperjump back to one of the milky way outposts, hidden on a moon of a gas giant, that is hidding the energy signaturs with his own radiation. The radiation also is used as a energy surse so its a really nice doppel use, the only problem is so that they need to protect their victims from the radioation so they dont die before they are ready to ascent. They strip the human out of his armor removed a ridicoulos amount of knifes from him, before they decontamineted him to protect the other humans, some of them are so stuborn and hard to turn dont get sick. They remove all his hair so its easier to put the sensors on his head, before they conect him with the virtual reality and but him in stasis capsule. The maschien starts to calculate how long they will need , who to use and what to do to break him. To make the human beg to be assented.

Subject: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley of human space force, born on 31. October 3420 in Manchester on littel Gaia

Analysing for importet relationships:

Family status: dead

Mother, brother, brothers wife and a nephew - good, low risk

Father - bad, high risk

Humans called Price, Gaz and Soap - perfect, no risk

Searching for more important connections

Estimated time: 6 standart galactic day or 12 human days

creating false reality. Start with low risk choices.

Simon opens his eyes having a head ache. Where is he? He is in a dark room, sunlight shining through his curtains. Curtains, he dosent own curtains you dont have curtains.... where do you dont have courtains what was he trying to think? The next think that ticks him off is the size of the room, his room is not this big, right? He also dont have a king sice bed and defently not that nice sheets in a nice dark blue colour, his sheets should be khaki. He still gets out of bed, the next odd think him wearing a actual pyjama and not in a old shirt and sweatpants. he lifts his left arm and, something is missing. He also has the feeling that he is supost to have more muscels. "What is going on?", he asks in the room. He looks at the window again, deciding to open the courtains. He looks out of the window seeing a big mordern city, needing sometime till he sees a landmark he reconiases. He's in London seeing the holograph of the big ben flackering in the background. Earth? Why is he on earth? What is going on, his flat dont looks like this. Its a nice bedroom, with a big bed, a nice dresser, he opens one door leading to a allway, the walls filled with picture frames, like somebody is actuly living here. The second door leads in to a big bath room. He steps in it looking at the luxurious shower, the big washtabel and the gigantic mirror. The many products in the washtabel iritate him, as if its to many of them, he's owed to a lot less, some of them he probaly never used before, to his memory atleast. He looks in the mirror and the first think hes noticing is no scars and his nose dont look broken. Why does he think he is suposed to have scars and a broken nose? His blond hair is also to long, going over his shoulders, why does he think he has short hair? "Phone, where is my ... we dont use phones anymore what am I saying?", Ghost says to is reflection uterly confused. Phones were replaced right before the discoverd FTL traval. He goes back in the bedroom, seeing a small box thing on the nightstane he picks it up. It is a phone, why does he has a phone? He needs sometime to figure out how to get the screen lit, seen a picture of himself with a smiling teenager boy with blond hair having a hair cut like he thinks he normally has, sites cut short with a bit longer hair on the top. "Who the fuck is this", he asks himself, the face being familiar but also belongs to a stranger at the same time. The picture frames in the hallway, he rembers running out of the bedroom. Lots of Photos, of him on... on vacation on earth? As if he can afort this, how the fuck is he even affording living in London? Why does he think that only the rich and powerful can afford living on earth? Humans dont live anywhere else right? Right? He walks past the vacation pictures, seeing family gatherings with the teen form his phone screen and TOMMY? and BETH and MUM??? So that means the teenboy has to be JOESEPH?! His head starts to hurt, while memory of him standing in front of a grave with his brothers name on is forcing its way out of his subconsciousness. He falls down on his knees cursing feeling like his head is splitting in two. Why? Why is he so confused about Tommy, Beth, mum and Joseph beeing alive? Of course they are alive, Joe will finish school soon and then goes to studie holo engineering in Oxfort.

God did he drank to much yesterday with Price, why does he think it wired that Joe is finishing school soon? He looks at the phone again, well it can't be that diffrent then a holodeck to use right, but WTF is a holodeck sounds like its out of one the SiFi novels he reads. Holodecks are based on the last gen phones, wired what is he thinking. He needs some time to get figure out how to use the phone. 2. August 2325 the calender tells him, it also tells him he has a lot of things to do today, like going to work and hes already 30 minutes late for that. Why does he think that the year cant be right? Shit, what is going on. The phone rings and Price name is shown on the display. "Captain", Simon automaticaly says when he answers the call. "Captain? I like how that sounds Simon", Price amused voice echos out of the phone. Why does he adresses Price wirh Captain abd why does Price call him Simon, he rarely calls by his name most referring to him as Ghost, but why? "But Im calling to ask are you okey or are you having a migraine again?", Price sound concernd and Ghost makes a confued noise, migraine he dont have this, he couldbot work his job with them, what is Price telling him for nonsense? "I.. i dont know I just some things are wired, Sir", Ghost answers the question. "What do you mean?" "I.. bloody hell Cap, I dont know. Its like I have the feeling I dont live in London and that this flat is not mine." "Do you think you still live in Manchester? Happens sometimes after a bad migraine", Price ask concerned, but it seems to be a normal enough part of Ghosts life. "No.. I dont even think.." Ghost never ends the sentence the maybe migraine getting worse making him scream in pain while it feels like memories are brutaly forced away and his brain is cut in to pieces. The world goes dark, only Price who is screaming his name is interrupting the silence.

Correction of estimated time to 10 standard galactic days , suspect has really strong memories about live out site of simulation. Advice of using sedatives to secure success.

Come on the water is fine

Sometimes I give too much and keep too little… my fur gets all bald and patchy… and sometimes, even the bugs on my skin feel Ş̶̢̛͈̪̩̼͚͗ͅớ̴̢̨̨̨̢̛̛̰̹͍̟͔̟̦̗̮͙͇̥͇͇̈̒̓̋̏̇͒̆̏͂̀͜͝r̸̨̡̥̻̬̱͉͉̙̙̺͖̬͍̪͎̞̯̱̭̗̟͕̠̟͉̦͍͉̜̺͈̅͋͒̓͗̏̒r̴̢̪͚̻̥̭̰̭̟̉́̌̋̐̋̊̾̃̚̕y̸̡̢̞̗̹̮̻͈̟̭̫̼͖̙̘̞̤͔̠͋͌̓̽́̓̃̈̌̿̀̀̌͊̔̄͐̔͆͌̐̀̓̑̕͘̕͠͝ for me… my energy runs low and my motivation goes away.

I keep overthinking even when I know it’s not my F̷̧͎̰̠̦̤͔̱̠̖̬͚͕̟̜͙͘a̴̛̜̪͎͓͍̹͍̲̝̞͙͌̀̊̉̀̐͗̿̀̈́̒̓͗͌͑̏̍̚͝͝ứ̴̧̢͓̺̱̘̱̘͉͎̺̖͕͓̟̦̤͎̞͙̱͒̄̐̓͂͊͆̕̚͜͜͝ļ̵̛̣̼̝͕̥̜̮̫̳̩̣͆̽̔̓͐͋̈́̈́̇̔͊͊͌̂̉̓̓͘̚͘͝͝ţ̸̧̠̟̬̤̪͕̼͉͓̼̺̠͕͕̮͎͔͔̲̺̘̦͙͉͍̰̣̮̦̎͗͆̈́̓̓͠ͅ and that I can’t control it. Sometimes I can’t help but not feel G̵̣͆́̇̊̚o̵̳̤̤͍̍̇̊͑̉̎ö̶̱́d̷̡͆̄̂̓ ̶̧̛̬͕̫͇̤̏͆̃͊̀͝e̸͖͈̰̊̾̒͋͛̕ṉ̸̆͑̀ǫ̶̬̐͘̕͜͝u̶̧̹̳̹̼̒͜ǵ̸̢̛͙̱͎̽͂h̸̫̱̝̙̱̒ ̴̭̈́̈̈́̄̌́͘͜

W̸̧̛̱̼͉̺͚̫͗̽͑̌̆͝ẖ̵̲̽̑͋y̵̛̼̞̭͗̾͘ ̶̢̧̥̦̰͎͛̋̒̒c̴̛̣͇͐̽̽͝á̶̟̲͔̬̤n̷̨̅̒̌̽’̶͉͂́͛͛̏̚̚t̶̪͇̮̺̦̻͈̃͌́̓͆͒̈ ̵̨̞͍͆̆͂̆̈́̕͠I̷̡͔͙̤̥͈͆̒͠ ̸̮̩̻͆̈́̓̿̋͠b̷̯͐̏̋̌͊́e̵͉̲̾͜ ̷̭̲͙̙̣͈͂̃ģ̸̧̥̩̪̀̈́̍̕o̸̰̾̍̾̔̕͜ṍ̷̧̏͗d̸̡̝͔̫͐̏̀͋͋͆͊ ̵̛̹̼̥͇͓̝͛̀̔̈́̽͘r̶̡̛̹̲͑͗̆̅̈͒ͅn̴̦̗̞̤̪̠̐ͅṑ̵̼͇̯̜̌́͆͝͝u̵͔̱͖̰̜̿̅v̸̧̡̥̤̙̮̇j̶̖̝̝̳̏̆̈́̅̽̈́ what I’m I doing W̵̑̄��̢̛̛͙͈̝͙̰̤̬̞̤͎̞̲̜̦͎̞͇͈̲̰͓̈̊̊͑̓̂͆̇̿̈́̈́̂̑͋̔̀̇̑̈́̍͗͋̆̀̓̇͂͑̄̌͒̓̈́̔̈́́̏̈̾̏̄͛̀͋͗̉̏̚͘̚̕͘̕͜͜͠͝͠ͅŘ̴͈̬͎̳̩̻̘̠̤̝͓̪̻̦̼̃̈̆̐͆̀̽̎̐̌̑̏̓̓̌̅̓́͒͋̒͐̂̾̍̇̃̈́͑̅͑̾̓̆̈́͑̌̂͗̔̿̀̈́̈́̌̍̂͊̈̍̕̕͘͝͝͝͠͝ͅǪ̶̡̢̢̧̛̛̛͙̗̬͚͔̣̬͍͕̮̙̬̩̺̞̘̪͕̪͙͕̫̖̟͐̏̐̄̏́̓̈͂̂̀̔̊́̃͊̿̇͆̀͌̈́̑̄̔͆̐̿̐͛̀̃̀̋̿̃̄͋̓̔̋͂̇̈́̅̔̃͛̐̚͘̚͘͠ͅÑ̴̨̢̨̛̹̘̮͎̦̹̺̲͚̭̩͈̭̺̳̼̣̬͓̠̜̥͉̤͓̬͓͈̺̺̗͙̬͂̉͗̍̈̈́̇̄̀͑͋̈́̎̐̈́̓͋̓̆̓̂͊́͗̍̀͂̽͑̆̾͐̈́͆̄̀͋̾̅̽̕͘̕͘͘͝͠͝Ģ̸̡̨̢̧̨̨̡͙̠̜̫͎̩͕͍͍̼͓̦̫̮̗̺̰̙͔͕̗̺̲̺̯̙̺̝̻̠̠̹̟̖̫̥͕̹̜̳͇̪͚̟͖̱̜̮̞̰̙̹̰̟̊̅̐͐̓?̵̧̢̨̢̧̨̫͎͕̲̹̟̻̹͙̘͙̙̻̘̻̭̹̹̩̱͖̬͔͍̼͙͇̟̹̲̦̤̭̞̳͕̞̙̻̲̍͌̄̅̀̿́͊͊̒́́̈́͐͌͜͜͜!̷̢̰̭͚͕̝͚̠͛̒̅́̐̽͊̑́̋͋͋̍̕͝͝

My skin itches… and my claws are filed down from dragging them along my patchy skin. My stomach hurts… why do I feel so… small..?

—— Crow Animation here☆

tempt fate!✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Is it just me or does he really look like Agent 47?