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#unorcadox
unorcadox · 3 days
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earlicking · 8 months
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sheepinwolfzclothin · 4 months
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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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Tags☆彡
#Ø’s thoughts - in character posts or asks
#mod posts - ooc posts or updates and stuff
#thoughts or concerns? - asks
#siwc - the blogs specific tag
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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 :)
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bunnindbenni · 10 months
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My body, My Heart, My Mind
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Link
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amarantine-amirite · 10 months
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Whispering Consequences
I last spoke to my grandfather two days before he died.
Mom held Grandpa's hand and the nurse held his other hand as they walked him back to his room. He had spit out his pills and gone on a little adventure. They held him tight so that he wouldn't fall or make a break for it.
His knee trembles with every step he takes. Loose skin hangs from his arms. He looks fragile. His eyes look tired and his wrinkled hands look like they feel cold.
"Hey," I greeted Grandpa as he returned to his room.
He didn't say anything, he just nodded and waved. Afterwards, he put the TV on.
I rolled my eyes. Not at him, I'd never do that. I rolled my eyes at what was on the TV. So many commercials for crap that costs too much money and breaks within a few weeks of use. And they aren't even funny. Come on, that stupid thing with the carnival doesn't make me want to buy a car; it makes me want to go on roller coasters. " Grandpa, can I say something?" I asked.
Grandpa nodded. He didn't say much anymore.
"I always thought I got picked on for being different," I began, "I mean, I'm smart, and I'm kind of weird looking"
Suddenly, Grandpa turned around and did something he hadn't done in at least a year: speak. "Are you sure that's why they come after you, Judy?" he asked.
I didn't know. it never gets brought up when they beat the shit out of me, but then again, I don't remember much of what they say.
Grandpa very matter-of-factly stated, "Kids don't just attack out of the blue, they have too much honour to do that."
"Well, they attack me out of the blue," I muttered.
Grandpa raised his eyebrow. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Only one thing came to mind: the week my parents left for a business trip. I made the mistake of wearing my short pajamas to help my parents load their luggage. Since I didn't intend to go outside, I didn't put on my winter coat.
I remember it so vividly because my parents locked up right before they drove off. They told me to wait outside for the babysitter to show up because they didn't trust me to take care of the house.
I waited for roughly 20 minutes before I called Leon to pick me up. I didn't have a choice. If I stayed outside, I would have likely gotten frostbite (if I was lucky) or froze to death (if I wasn't). I had no interaction with him before that day, but he was relatively famous at school. On top of being the youngest captain of the football team in the school's history, he was also the best driver. According to him, he had been driving for years before he was legal on account of his blind parents.
After Leon picked me up, he popped open the glove compartment and tossed me a blanket. I unfolded it and wrapped it around myself, making sure it covered my shoulders. It helped, in that it stopped me from getting any colder than I was.
Grandpa saw me stand there without saying a word. "Well, aren't you going to tell me?" he asked
I didn't say anything because I drew a complete blank. I couldn't remember what happened next. That is, until the movie we were watching jogged my memory. The scene where a kid and his dad are out fishing and the Dad insists on heading back even though they just got there reminded me that Leon had to make a stop before we got to his house so that he could do something, and he told me to stop his car from getting stolen by sitting in the passenger seat.
If you can't make the connection between the movie and what happened, let me help. After Leon left me in the car, I had to look around for something else to use to stay warm, and the best I could do was crawl into a suit bag. He didn't tell me how long this was going to take, so I had to make sure I could last for as long as possible without freezing.
Once I nestled into the bag, this joke popped into my head: A Republican and a Democrat are going out fishing in an old boat. They aren't very far from shore when the Democrat notices that the boat has a leak and is slowly taking on water. After some quick calculations, the Democrat says, "Look, the boat is sinking, but I think if we start bailing now, we can make it back to shore in 20 to 30 minutes." The Republican responds, "No! Let's head out to deeper water so we can spend that 30 minutes fishing!"
I never liked that joke, but I couldn't verbalize why. My best guess was that it always felt like the joke was originally about a father and his teenage son and somebody ran it through search-and-replace to make it about politics when it isn't. If anything, it's a joke about not being able to cope with plans changing.
Waiting for Leon while curled up in the suit bag helped me realize that I was half right. The reason I didn't like that joke was because it reminded me of something specific. When I was little, my parents were away on a business trip and left me with my aunt Persephone. We were going on an outing, and Aunt Persephone circled back to the house, insisting she forgot the spare tire for the car. We went home and she went inside, but not to get the spare tire out of the basement. After going into the house, she took a nap and never woke up. I didn't find out Aunt Persephone died until after I went in the house to help her look for the spare tire, roughly two hours later. Now I get upset about having to turn around and go back for any reason because it means somebody might die.
I didn't have time to worry about whether or not Leon was still alive. The car got stolen anyway...with me in it!
Once I realized the car was in the hands of a thief, I sprung from the suit bag and slammed the car into park, much to the chagrin of everyone else on the road. Next, I reached across and undid his seatbelt.
I would have opened the door and pushed him out, but he pulled a knife on me. I shut my eyes and slammed his wrist into the dashboard, forcing him to drop his weapon. He put the car back in drive and slammed on the gas.
In no time, we were on the highway. Opening the door ceased to be an option. I rolled down the window and grabbed his shoulder. I figured if I got his upper body out the window, I could tip him sideways until he was facedown, lift his lower legs and drop him out the window.
The thief didn't want to give up. It took me three tries to get his lower legs up so I could push him out the window. The first time I tried to lift his lower legs, he kicked me in the chest. He pulled his leg back and aimed at my jaw, but I blocked it with my arm. I discovered that he couldn't kick me if I pushed his legs against the ceiling.
On the third try, I made sure to push his legs up against the ceiling. He didn't kick me. I just slid him out the window and onto the road.
I have no idea how mustered the strength to do that, but I did. I had vanquished the car thief. But Leon was going to notice the car was gone, so I tried to drive it back. And that was when things went completely south.
I drove past the ramp. My hands tightened on the wheel as I aimed off the pavement. To anybody else, it looked like I missed the exit. At the moment, I figured that roads will slow you down at a time like this.
In hindsight, I missed all the signs to turn back. I should've turned around and gone back the way I came, but I didn't because I hadn't the faintest idea where I was.
It was dark out. The trees on either side of the road blurred as I found myself approaching the chainlink fence of a golf course and the sign that says "Do not enter". It forced me to ask myself, Judy, are you prepared to crash?
To my shock, I didn't crash. The fence was just a gate that swung open when I hit it with the car. I came to a gradual stop in the water hazard. I don't think I initially realized that I went into the drink because if you hit the water, the pressure makes it hard to open the door. I would've discovered this if I tried to open the door, but instead, I went out the window. It didn't occur to me that I hit the water until I climbed out the window and sploosh.
I bundled myself up in the blanket and walked out of the water hazard and up to the clubhouse, holding the blanket out of the way so it didn't get wet. While I made it out, the car continued to slide into the water until it was completely submerged. Last I heard, Leon's dad had to call someone to fish it out.
In an instant, I blurted out, "My parents went away and locked me out of the house. I had to get a ride from the captain of the football team and he had to stop and do something on the way to his house. He made me wait in the car so it wouldn't get stolen, and it got stolen anyway. I tried to fix it, but I drove it into the water hazard of a nearby golf course."
Right after I sent this, it soon occurred to me that my actions ruined Leon's life. Leon's father thought he was the one that drove the car into the water hazard, and I think he sent him away to a wilderness therapy program in Idaho. Leon got injured while he was there and couldn't play football anymore. That injury cost him everything: scholarships, his friends, and even his parents' love for him.
The guy's life practically fell apart because he got blamed for something I did. I shouldn't be surprised that upon returning home, he turned the entire school against me because of what I had done.
Grandpa shook his head. "Judy, you messed up. That's why they give you shit," he huffed, "Leon trusted you and you blew it up so badly."
I sighed, "Now that I know that I'm to blame here, how do I make amends?"
"You don't. Trust can't be fixed once it's broken."
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makeajam · 1 year
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my favorite weirdcore blogger just RB'd one of my edits with super lovely tags and i
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dreamlink3d · 2 years
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will you still be working on dreamlink?
hi i haven't had a chance to say anything because i've been away for the past week but yes, in theory, development will be continuing- i don't quite know when or how much i can recover but i plan on continuing as soon as possible. sorry for my absence <3
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funkibanan · 8 months
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I present... THE WEIRDCORE DIAGRAM V1
This is a brainstorm a did a while ago, it was my first attempt at understanding the aesthetic. I don't agree completely with this organization anymore, but i wanted to share it anyway 😘
*edit: by religion i mean concepts of christianity, shouldve used that word instead, thx to the person who mentioned it in the tags
PDF VERSION (with the links to all the editors)
heres the credits in order, just in case:
religion: glixt1weirdcore, dxrknessgd, godenteredmybody, b1zarr3vel, unorcadox, burningheartsinc, deathbyobscurity
liminal: lawgweirdcore, pirateflavor, abstractski3s (aka sushiisbasement), elckip, elektr0n1ka, 8mys
simulation: lawgweirdcore, glixt1weirdcore, antek1234l, theinternetangels, mkr-2002, moon-fence
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vacant2007 · 5 months
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hii unorcadox here! what's your favorite edit you've ever made :)
ahh hey! appreciate it! i love your stuff so much
and oof thats a hard one... i think i get attached to certain ones that i made during really impactful times and that plays a big part. but i run the risk sometimes with getting too direct and specific with them so as to render them unrelatable to a majority of people, and that causes me to think of them as less effective, so i suppose i have like...sentimental favorites and then stuff i consider my best examples
one that i think sort of meshes the two, though, is this
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its definitely nowhere near my favorite to have *made* because there wasn't much involved in the process editing-wise, but i still like the way it looks, and feel grateful that it wasn't over-blown by me when i worked on it. It stayed simple enough to resonate with people and I still like the placement of the text for some reason. I like it because it is a very literal snapshot of a moment I had (This exact thought crossed my mind on the way home from work, I was looking out the window, I suddenly felt compelled to document that, and I snapped a picture and threw the text on at home), but it was nonspecific enough to apparently resonate with quite a few people. It always makes me feel a lot less alone to toss a thought out into the void like this and realize I'm not the only one having it. It's a big part of what motivates my work.
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etherealascend · 11 months
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hii it's unorcadox ^_^ how does your editing process work!!! like how do you choose what images to use, how to combine them, how to get the right "feel" etc. 👀 very curious abt ur answer
Damn, great question! Also, love your edits, Orca! (also a bit jelous abt your productivity, wish i had so many great ideas) So i present to you: a wall of text! (cw really long!)
So, many people see a great base image and then immideately get an idea of what they wanna do w/ it. I'm not like that, i ususally have an idea of an edit in mind, and then search for sometimes a few hours for a base image that may work. I have a whole tutorial-worthy process of how i always find what i need, but i digress… Most of the times, tho, i get something better than what i had in mind. I love this process, cause it's like tresure hunting for me. (ofc it's not always like that, just most of the time. Since i have a giant collection of base images i may sometimes use them). I choose my images based on the mood i wanna portray. It's always supposed to be looking kinda dreamlike and unreal, but it can also be creepy, dark, bright, etc.
When editing my favourite style of edits - fake dreamlike places - I try to make them look as real as possible, regarding color, lighting, etc, while still making them look blatantly fake regarding the composition, subject matter, etc. Ofc i don't try to perfect my lighting, since it can take away the feeling i strive for, so it's kinda based on my own feelings idk. I get really inspired by the surrealists' painting. Artists like Brent Wong, for example. Liminal spaces are already weird, so why not make them even weirder, by making the geometry non-Euclidean and subject matter impossible in the real world. Also unlike surrealist painters, i have a luxiry of making the scene like "more real" by combining actual photos in photoshop. Ofc people have been making surreal art w/ 3d programs forever now, but it still doesn't give off the same feeling real picture does, yk.
Uhh... what was i talking about... Ah, yes! I firstly make a collage, that i have in mind by this point, and sometimes it just... doesn't work out! i had discarded so many great ideas, cause they weren't turning out good. But if it works, i add shadows and highlights. I look at real liminal space photos and try to really analyze them. Like, what makes them work? the color, the quality, the blurriness? Then i add effects that works to my edit. Every edit needs it's own level of compression, sharpness, blurriness... You just gotta feel it.
Really important step. I leave my edit for a few hours, so i forget how it looks, and then return later. All the imperfections, things that don't work, etc pop out immediately. I read somewhere that the process of creating and the process of analyzing are two completely different things, and i couldn't agree more. It's annoying when you have a finished edit, and you really wanna show it to the world, but you have to wait... But it's better, than being embarrassed later that you posted something unfinished and you can't fix it now.
Ofc i make text edits as well, but they basically serve the same purpose and not that interesting to describe, cause process is the same just with a few steps skipped.
There wasn't such question, but i still wanna talk about it, cause it kinda answers "how do you get the right feel". Well, why do i make edits? Well, the world sucks ass (i don't agree w/ this statement for the most part, like friends are great, nature is buitifull, but then there are parts that just... yk...) and for me weirdcore is a sort of an escapism. I can't traverse dreamworlds mindlessly, alone or come across magical events in real world, sadly. But I can make them however i would like them to look and feel, with my characters (like deer), and my own thoughts about them, that no one except me knows. It's kinda like i actually've been there, and i took a picture. Or hell, maybe i've never been here myself, but those deer were, or invisible creatures, that are not in the shot. And i know them personally, cause i made them, they are a part of myself! And it really helps, and i'm so glad these pictures resonate with so many more people here too! I had been making these pictures without realising why for a year. I had some thoughts and heard dozens of opinins of other pople, but i hadn't had a full picture. And then a video by SuperEyePatchWolf about liminal spaces comes out, and i get it now, it was really eye opening, for me at least. It explains really well why we love unreality so much.
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unorcadox · 2 days
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Tell me, won't you kindly... What awaits me when I complete this step of my journey? Does this path I follow wind favorably or does it continue to mislead me? Every turn upwards seems duplicitous, serpentine & misleading, yet I follow anyway. What choice do I have?
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earlicking · 8 months
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sheepinwolfzclothin · 4 months
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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 W̵̢̛̛͙͈̝͙̰̤̬̞̤͎̞̲̜̦͎̞͇͈̲̰͓̑̄̿̈̊̊͑̓̂͆̇̿̈́̈́̂̑͋̔̀̇̑̈́̍͗͋̆̀̓̇͂͑̄̌͒̓̈́̔̈́́̏̈̾̏̄͛̀͋͗̉̏̚͘̚̕͘̕͜͜͠͝͠ͅŘ̴͈̬͎̳̩̻̘̠̤̝͓̪̻̦̼̃̈̆̐͆̀̽̎̐̌̑̏̓̓̌̅̓́͒͋̒͐̂̾̍̇̃̈́͑̅͑̾̓̆̈́͑̌̂͗̔̿̀̈́̈́̌̍̂͊̈̍̕̕͘͝͝͝͠͝ͅǪ̶̡̢̢̧̛̛̛͙̗̬͚͔̣̬͍͕̮̙̬̩̺̞̘̪͕̪͙͕̫̖̟͐̏̐̄̏́̓̈͂̂̀̔̊́̃͊̿̇͆̀͌̈́̑̄̔͆̐̿̐͛̀̃̀̋̿̃̄͋̓̔̋͂̇̈́̅̔̃͛̐̚͘̚͘͠ͅÑ̴̨̢̨̛̹̘̮͎̦̹̺̲͚̭̩͈̭̺̳̼̣̬͓̠̜̥͉̤͓̬͓͈̺̺̗͙̬͂̉͗̍̈̈́̇̄̀͑͋̈́̎̐̈́̓͋̓̆̓̂͊́͗̍̀͂̽͑̆̾͐̈́͆̄̀͋̾̅̽̕͘̕͘͘͝͠͝Ģ̸̡̨̢̧̨̨̡͙̠̜̫͎̩͕͍͍̼͓̦̫̮̗̺̰̙͔͕̗̺̲̺̯̙̺̝̻̠̠̹̟̖̫̥͕̹̜̳͇̪͚̟͖̱̜̮̞̰̙̹̰̟̊̅̐͐̓?̵̧̢̨̢̧̨̫͎͕̲̹̟̻̹͙̘͙̙̻̘̻̭̹̹̩̱͖̬͔͍̼͙͇̟̹̲̦̤̭̞̳͕̞̙̻̲̍͌̄̅̀̿́͊͊̒́́̈́͐͌͜͜͜!̷̢̰̭͚͕̝͚̠͛̒̅́̐̽͊̑́̋͋͋̍̕͝͝
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☆
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c0gnitivedisk · 2 years
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inspired by @unorcadox
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shoutout @unorcadox for always supporting my edits/posts
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