I woke up.

I saw you, smiled, and then never wanted to see you again.

I'm sorry.

The voices were just too loud.

So I had to go back to sleep.

Y o u  E v e r  J u s t  W a n t  T o  B r e a k  Y o u r  O w n  N e c k  ?
BecausesometimesaforccecomesovermeanditsallIcandotostopitfro­mtakingover
because... Something... I guess... Keeps... Interrupting... my thoughts...?
M a y b e  T h e y r e  R i g h t  I  M u s t  B e  C r a z y  U n l e s s  I t s  A l l
justinmyheadlikeIthinkitwasbeforeItoldeveryoneabouteverythingha­ppeningin
my head... (Wanna know a secret?) ███████████████████!
O r  M a y b e  Y o u  W a n t  T o  F i n d  O u t  W h y  I  D o  W h a t  I
feellikewhenIripmyskinopenfrommyfingertipslikeIdowhenIlookin­tomymirrors
That reflect everything (Were you listening?) [Because I wasn't] {But I was}

s̶̛̍̾̀̓̎̂̓̌̉̿̈́̓̐̌͋͆̄͌̑̀̑̒͗̄̈́̐̆̄͌̋̇̔̒͗̿́̀̏́̒͆̃̈̀̌͌̾̈́̐͌͋̓̌̓̚͘̚͝͠͝͝͝­̡̨̢̡̛̛̥̥̜̱̰̪͉̻͙̫͙̖̝͎͚͉͇̦̥̭͍̤̬͕͙̺̟̲͔̜͇͉̙̯͔̘̗̲̥̯̣͕͗͌͋̎̐̒̒͆̚ͅo̸͒͌̐͂͌­̧̢̛̛̤̯̯̻̗̠̲͔̮̟̰̮̻͇̲͚̻͓̤̪̬̰͔̱̈́̾̃̉̿̈́̍̽͒̀̇̏̓͋̽̆͑͂̉́̔͗̏̓̐̄̕̚̕̚̚̚͠͝͝͠ͅ­̢̘͉̖̺̝̱͈͉͖̙̙͎̣̗̰̘͙m̷̨̛̺̙̗̱͙̠͓͖̻̩̜̣͕̬̤̟̪̻͓̫̯̳̝̬͖̔̏̆̑͗͑̊̀̀̀̆̕̕͝͝͝͝͝­̢̖̖͇͔͇̟̜̮̣̳̘͖͈̳̮̤̥͇͈̠̘̙͖̣̤̹̟̰͓̩̻͜ȇ̵̅͐̂̓͐̌͌̽̾̒̂̆̓̈́̑̄̋̓̾̓͆͂͛͊͐̚͠͠͝­̝̇͌́̐̓t̴̝̬̺̻̭̜̮̻̹̮̯͉̓͂͊̀̈́̋͐̓̈̿͒̈́͆̆̃̓̏͛̎͒̈͋̽͒̓̍̿̏̐͗̐̐̈́͋̋̍̃̅̆̿̒͘͜͝͠­̡̢̨̧̧̹͈̙͓͔̦̩̺̞̭̲̱̫̹̘̹̙̦͇̘͔͓̲̼̦̰̰̜̲̘̭̰̗͉͇̳̝̥͔͎̳̖̲̻̜̹̯̝̩͎̜̠̬̞͔ͅͅi̴͑­̧̡̨̡̨͕̝̪̣͓͎͉̞̲̲͕̱͕͎̠̺͕͎̯̮̙͔̦͕͙̘̭̺͈͚̪̜̘̬͇̘̫͚̞̺̻͇̲͍̠̥̭̯̳̭͆̈͋͒̓͑̇̏̆̂­̨͈̻̮̫͍͙̭̖̼̘̫̹̤͔̣̪m̷̛̏̂̈́̂̓̽̂͆̾̌͗̇̈́́̂̅̒̾͂͌̿̈͆̌̿̿́͛͋́͂͗̋̉͐͐̈́͑̊̎̚͠͝͝͠­̢̢̨̡̩̘̠̭͓͖͎̰̼̰̰̯̜̥̰͍̖̜̳̱͓̞͖̤͍̖͉̳̻̞͓͕̯̮̗̳̀͑̌͒̉̒̈͊̊̐̔͜͜ͅͅe̵͋͛͛̃̉̓̃̕­̢̧̢̖͚̫͓͔͓͇̱̹̝́́̄̔̅́̕͜s̸̛̛̟̺̖̩̱̺͚͍̺̣͚̫̹̩̼̗͓̱̹̠̠͕̯̼̳̼̠̟͒̍̊̂̌̐̐͌̀̉͘͝­̤̣̼̰̬̙͈̤̜̩̺̬͚̪̘͇̟̮̞̥̠͈̜̤̫̜̜̣ͅͅ ̵̡͕͙̣̝̬̩̲̪̪͕̝̄̾͊͐̐͗̀̀͛̃̏́̓̀̿̓̀̒̿̆͋͗̊̀̕͝͝I̷̊̅̓̀̅͌̉̿̈͒͌̂̾̍̈́̽̊̈̂̒̿̍̔­̡̢̛͎̹̣̣͔̼̩̖̞̠̬͚̯̻̳̠͙̮̪̜͚̯̼̙͂̋̈̑̿̈́̇͗̆̈́̓̄̿̌̔̃̄̄̀̅̌͛̃͌̈̓͘͘͘͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝ ̴̘̙̘̗̱̤͓̬̙̞͈̞̻̐̈͗̈́̈̎̽͒̄͗̓̄̀͋͑̾̈̚͝͝r̶̡̢̡̰͕͙̹̲͖̣̯̖͈̯̝̼̂̏ë̸́̈́̾͊̔̂͌͌̚­̢̧̧̧̛̻̥̥̫̞̬̳̤̝̻̩̜͓͓͚̝̣͔͉͎̝̗͍̹͇̦̝̘͈̦̹̝̈́͐̾̊̍̄̾̍̏̎̔̀̃͆̊̚͜ͅȃ̴̛͋̊̆̊̔͘­̛̛̛̛̺̲͎̮̪̬̔͆͛̐͆̊̓̾͊̿͐͐̓̊̇̇̓͒͐̿̽̅́̅͆͂̉̂́́͛̄̎̏̓̄͆̓̅̄̈̉̂̀̔̊̓̿̾̚͠͠͝͝͠­̡̧̣͙̯̖̲̝̪̮̻͉͇̲͉̩̣͇̘̟͈̠͍̙̗͇̪̰̖̺͎̟̙̹͚̬̤̠͈̣͈̹͜ͅl̵̢͉͇͔̯̮̖͎̻̥̗͛̌̂̌́͊̎̚­̧̢͎̝̪̩̺͚̞̜̫̯͇̘͈̹̙ͅl̵̨̛͉͎̘̱̟͍̼̱̙͇͔͌͗́͌̇͑̈́̇̽͛̋͋̾̇̆̋̏̌́͒̐͐͛̓̂͘̕͜͝͝͠͠­̨̡̡̞̲̮̪̤̗̗̥̮͎͖͙͉͓̠͍̭̖̮̗͈̰̳̠̘͙̯͓̙̯͉͙̩̟̣̟̖̙̤̪̲̜̯̣̹̗̦̣̭̹͜y̷̿̈̈́̄̔̅͛̅͘­̨͚̺̼̩͔̖̮̝̝̣̩̮̞̫̳͇̮͚̝̹̥͉̩̠̼̙̞̙̲̩͔̲͓̤̥͖̩͈̹͈̤͋̅̀̽̈́́̑́̅̇͗̀̂̄͘͜͜͠͠͠͠͝ͅ­̫͖ ̵̨̨̛̺̗̗͍̠̤̳̱̳͇̖͆͋̈́̎̄̋̂̔͑͆̊̆̔̓̓̌̚͜͜͝d̴̛̛̛̏͑̏̀͐͑̽͑͐̑̔̊̊̈̀̈́̿̏̋̑̚̕͠͝͝­̢̡̻̝̞̳̖̹̘̺̥̩̣̯̩͍͚̰͔͖͙̠̫̼͎̭̞͇̳̪͍̠̰̥̞̭̼͙̎̆̿̿̇̆̄̊̌͌͒̒̑̿̉̈́́̋̒̌͂̓͂̈́̚̕͝­̡̼͖͎̱̪͕͓̜͚̝̰͚̥͎̺̟͙̖̺̩̞͜ơ̵̧̧̛͓̝̝̺͇̰̫̲͍͔͎͆̋̈̈́̀͛͊̒̾̒̈́̑̌̈́̽̂̈́̓̍͆͛͘͜͝ͅ­̨̧̧̡̥͇͖̭̹̭̭̳̭͓̯̻͍̭͚̮̜̥̤̰̺̮̭̼̪̬̭̥͓͚̱̳̟͇̗̗̹͜͜ͅͅn̵͋̀͆́̏̍͊̽̈́̊̔͆̒̔̍͆͘͘­̢͇̼̝̮̜̙͉̮̺̞̼̌̃'̵̢̧̢̨̡̡̨͉͇͇̰̤̱̗̰̱̫̤̼̲͓̩̖̜̩̩̟͔͕̱̖̞̤̟̠̭̠͔̗͉̺̪̍̋͆̏ͅͅͅ­̡̧̹͔̣͔͈̳͚̼̱͉̹̥̦̗̟͕͔̭̖̪̖͕͕͎͚̪̙͜ẗ̷̢͖̤̠̦̺̞͍͐̎̆͛̅̄͛̈́̇̂̇͊͌̐̑̈̒̾͒̈̓̕͝͝­̡͖͔͇̼̖̠͍͕̫̥̬͇͓̦̬͓͖̤̺͉̖̖̝̗̮̥̰̗̻̹̤̜͕̘̖̖͓̹͍̮̤͙͜͜͜ ̷̧̢̧̢̧͕̳̺͇̝͇̰͍̞̙͓̩̱͎̻̞͉͖̣͐̔͑͗̔̈̌̋̌̅͛̈̒̕͝͝͝ͅl̷͑͒̀̉̂͗̅̋̈́̀̎̆͌̊̽͗̎̕͘͝­̨̢̡̢̨̱̗̮̘̠̘̹̙͕͇̰̦̥̞̫̥̤̟̣͇̺̖̳̖̦͎̩̮̺̼̯̮̘̟̝̩̙̣̻̫̬̒͊͆̎͊̿́̄̿́͆̈́̔̐̕͘͜͜ͅ­̨̨̢̤̲͖̬͓̱͙̭͔̳̯͍͍͓͉͓͕͖̜̰̞̙̭͎̯̰ờ̴̡̹̝̣͈̟̻̰̱͎̣̣̰̟̿̈́͌̐͒̀̇͊͑̀̓͜͠͝͝v̵̒­̛̛̛̏̾̄́́̇̈́̿̀̍̊͐̒̓̏́̐͋͆̀͐͐̋̓̽̀͛̌̋͆̍̂̽͌̀̈̀̈́̊̎̅̀͆̌̐̈͂́̄͒͊͒̋͗͋̀̈́̓̚͘̚͝­̨̨̢̡̨̧̨̨̨̢̣̻̯̝̙̺̦͇̫͈̩̯̞̺̥̪̬̪̝̪̤͓̩͉͓̺̟͖̣̳̺͔̺̫͉͖̙̟̯̙̬̺̬̳̰̥͇̃̆̑͐̕͜͠͝­̢̺̤̩͚͚̪̱̮̝̦̳̠̗̳e̴͐̃͐̑̊̎̐͛͛̅͊̍̀̀̀̿̒͂͗̒̌̀͒̔̑͂̀͗̓̂̇͆͐́͑̃̿̉̽͊̃̇̚͘͘͝͠͝­̡̧̧̡͈̼̻̘̰̤̭̫̘͍͈̮͕̠͕͕̺͍̹̝͎̠̮̤̮̱̠̟̠̔̄̽̽̓̊́̊̃͑́̒͗̈́̎̾͌̂̆́̊̊̀̌͘͘͘͝͠ͅ ̸̢̧̡̨̛̠̜̟̖͉̻̙͈͚̗̟̳̝̺̥̈̅̇͗̀̃́̃͂̓͛̽̅͋̉͆̒̔̐̍̑̑̓̓͛̀̐̑̋͐̌͌͛̓͂̽̐̂͛̇̋͠͝͝­̡̡̬̪̥͔̳͇͔͉̥̩̥̭̖̠̘͔͓̦͍̯̼͉͎̠͎̼̱͖̤̬̬̟̗̤͍̩̰̖̭͜͜͜ͅͅy̶̬̙͒͛̒́̍̂̀̒͗̿̂̅́̇̕­̧̢̧͍̬͙̩̹̣͔̬̲̺͔͔̫͙̫̥̳̜͜ͅͅo̸͖̬̫̜̫̜̩͖̯̪̦̒̍̅͆͗͒́̑̆͋́̈́͌̍̆̑́́̄̀́̄͂͋̈͘̕͝­̧̢̗͇͕͚̭̪̩̭̘̗͈̭͍͖̥̫͖̜̙̮̲̯͇̝͈̭̬̖͕̘͖͕̫̥͉̥̫̩̳̹̼̲̥̟̭͖̹̞̞͎͔͜͜ủ̸͗̽͐̂̑̕͘­̢͎̭̝̻̺̘̲̣̹̘̫̾̀̎͑́̆̽̇̊̀̈́̅̌̎̇͌̊́̈́́̃̌͋͌̇̆̎͑́̀͒̑͑̀̆̏̾̈͌̄͑̃̌̿̿̕̚͘͠͠͝͝ͅ­̧̧̢̢̨̡̡̧̡̫̦̮̜̟̰͖̝͕̹̖̥͍̤͕̲̙̫͈̝̬̙̙̫̫̗͖̥̪͓̜̪͖̯͎͎̮̭͖̼̱̯̙̟̭͈̺̻̣̣̬̮͜͜͜ͅ­ ̴̧̢̧̨̨̝̥̣̥̘̮̼̙͎̰̟̯͎͓͔̼̭̺̪͚͚̤͎̳̙̝̠̖̼̂̇͂̑̀͐͛͐̈́͒͌̚b̶̊̑̔̔̓̈́͆͆͆̂̑́̐͌̚̕­̛͇͎̻̻̣̄̽͛̑͊̐̾̿̍̏͐͗͋̈́́̎̓͂̾͗́̇̀̋́̾̋̿̇̃̀̉̏̂̀͊͊̉͗̊̿̈̓͋̂̽͊̋́̔̅̂̋̚̕͜͠͠͝­̠̻̫̼̜̘̥͈̪̖̩͈͔̹̰̘̠̠̞̥̠͈̟̥͙̩̞̗̠̪̠͖̦͚͜ͅư̶̯̗̺͍̖̥̈́́̈́̊̽͂̿̍̇͑̆͑̇̿̊̂͘͝͠­͍̯͎̖̲̩̝̞̬͚̦͖͓͖̹̫̩̙͜͜t̵̛̯͚̣̯͇̺̩̅̅̇͐͒̊̏̏̍̊̑̈́̌̓̆͐̑̋́͑̿̂̒̂̚̚̕̕͜͝͠͠͝͝͠­̨̢̢̡̨̡̡̨͖̣̫͈̺͓̪̲̖̱̻̥͈̜͍͖̻͔̤̥̗̳̬͙͈͖̖̳̳̣̤̞̙̠̠̭̱͓͇̥ͅ ̶̛̾̈́̆͛̋̌̿͆̂̆̈͂͌̈́̈̑́̈́̈̈́͌̍̋̔̎͐̈́͑͆̐͗̒̋̉͛͑͋̉̆̓̆̂̿̂͗̽͂͐͑̀̽̎͐̄̕͘̕̕͘̕͝͝͠­̡̨̩̱̟̣͈̰̙̪̠̪̠͙̭̮͚͙̦͇̬̯͖͔̮̬̼͇̞̬̳̱͕̝͚̱̫͙̼̱͍̞̗͙̹͇̣̱̰̠̥̝̱͜ͅͅy̴̎̾̈́̑̿̎̚­̨̡̛̛̹̩͇̥͔͍̬̰̣̮͖̤͒̾͒͌̊̉̀̃͛͐̍̾̓̈́̅̀͐̆͌͋̋̇͗́̅̿͊͒̔͐̇̃̑̔̓̽̇̈́̍͆̓͆̕͜͝͠͝͝͝­̨̨̨̨̰̰̦͙̠̺͉̰̟̭̝̹̫̭͍̫̫̮̗̟͙̗̲̼̰̺͉̦͇̹̳̹͕̮̜̞̜̙̥̩͉̲̜͉̫̟̺̞̜̬̬͜͜͜͜ͅͅo̶̐̈́­̡̢̡̛̣̰͓̲̼̣̥͙͕͖̝͕̙̣̻̹̩͎͎͕͕̪͓̹̖̜̭͇̘͓̰̳̋̾̓̾̒̓̉͂̐̑͐͌͗̈́͑̄̆̈̋̓͌͐̋̃́͊͊̂͝­̢̖̩̱̟͈͔͚̩̻̲̼̭̘̬̲͔͙̟̼͔͜u̷̧͕̝͖̺̲͈͚̮̟̰͔̟͙̩̿̑̈́̎͐̽̓͌͐̈̌͠͝ͅ ̶̨̡̧̮̱̱̖̟̗͉̮̺͉̻̫̜̹̗̬̹͈͙̗̱̯͔̟̙̱͙̬͙͕͍͓̳̲̝͔͍̪̝̮̙̀͆͆͛̄̿̓̍͊͊̑̊̈́̈́͋͜͜͠͠ͅ­̧̻̝ķ̵̡̨̧̛͇̗̥̯̲͓͙͉͍͇̬̹̝̱͕̰͈͕͇̠̦̱͖͇͍̤͇͕̺͓͎̭̩̥̣͆̓͒̄́͂̃̎̓̽̇̓́͂̔̕͜͜͜ͅ­̡̧̠̫̙̳̣͙͎̤̲̻͖̟͔̻̱̗̝͙̝̙͙̘̩̗n̵̛̛̄̇͊̋̔̾̓̍͒̉͑͛̔̓͌͑́̑̈́̀̅̉̀̔͌͌̃͐͐͘͘̕͝͝͝­̢̧͖̹̱̰͍̭͕͚̹̟̗͉̙̰̺͉̺̮̜̤̱̘̹̙̻͉̞̟̫̤̟͓̤̰͓͙̖̓͌̿̉̂̐̂̆̿̓̾̌̿͗͛́̄̽̂̽̎̌͑̉̕ͅ­̨̢̘͇̟̞͎̜̳̲̣͚͎̩͈͖͉̣̹͖͇̹ḙ̷̡̨̲̜̹̩̻̖͔̖͇͉͙͖̳̟̗̯̘̲͍͇̺͕̞̳̘͇̖͎̬̫̺̻͐͋̂̓̈́̿­͕̟͇̩̬̝̪̜̟̣̦͎͈̜̻̳͚͇̫̹͚̹̩̟̺̝͕͉̞͚̬̼̪̱̫̣̜̲̦͍̖͜ͅͅw̷̛͋͛̂̉͛̈́̓̑̈̓͐̾̌͒͋̔͠͝­̛̛͖͎͍̩̹̥̪͔̰̳͉̱̞̭͇͍͉̻͉̭̰̰̯͊̈́̀̎́͊̆̆̍̔́͌͂̌̽͆̇̉̀̐̈͑̀̉́̈́̒̋͊̂̈́̊͑̒́̚̚͜͝ͅ­̧̧̧̧͓̬̜͕̝̻̞̫͇͉͖̥̘̰̞̞̭͕̺̻̥̖ ̶̨̛̼͈̲̭̩̤̲̜̫͇̤̮̟̟̟̣̔̂̒̆̒͒̿̽͗̋̎̃̊̽̊͒̈́̀̾̀͛́̂́̒͊̃͊͗͐̿̌̀͊͋̂̍̅̚̕̕͝͝͝͝͝­̪̱͜t̵̨̛̹̎̐͆̓͗̐̽͊̌̂̊̎̓̃̈́͌̾̾̒̏͊̏̇̈́̉̚̚͘͠͝ḣ̸̌̏́̉̃̊̓̀̾̆̒̿̽̾̾̆̑̌͌̆̈́͑̚͘­̧͕͇͖̜̜̰̠̮̳̮̺̙͇͎͕̂̇̈́̂̅͑̍̋̉̊͂̓̂̈́̓͐̄͑̅͊̌̆͊͛́͑͌̽̃͌̊̑́̐̈́͒́̈́́̊͘̚͘̚͠͝͝͠ͅ­̨̡̣̯̗̳̣̲̱͙̻̰̳̖̳̰̪͖̣̥̼ͅȉ̴̢̢̤̲͇̭̺̣̜͎̞̣̫͈̦̺̟̞̒̊̎̿͊͗̇͛̃̄̀͗͐͐̓́̆͋͘͝͝͝­̝͖̯̹͓͔̩ͅs̸̰̠̪͍̖̺͔̜̙̖̪͊ ̶̧̧̡̛̜̫̟̮͍͍̖̟̖̻̹̜̞̤̰̬͔̃͊̾͗̉̏͐̈͒͆̿́̄̈̉͌̀͆̏́͆͊̈́͛͗͗͒̑̈́̐̀̓͌̔̑̆̚͘͘̚͝͝ͅ­̡̨̡̡̡̢̙͕̗͙͎͇͕̗̻̟̦̠͓̝̙̰͓̠͇̫̯̪͔͈̭͍͈̪͓͚̠̝̦̼̼͍̣̥̝̼̙̺̣̻͜ͅa̷̛̅̍̑̒̿͌͋̐̎̕­̡̧̛̤̘̬̼͚͈̟̰͉̲̖͇̖̱̯̺̻͇̥̝̱̬̒͊̃̒͌͐̆̋͂͗̃̏̍̃̓͑͌͐̈͒́͋̃͋͑̾̓͆͌͛̄͐͛͂͜ͅn̶̤̒­̡̢̝͚̘̙͓̬̥͖͓̠͇̳̙̖̦͍̮̣̘̘̤̖̥̝̳̱̹̘̻͙͓͓͔̜̤͙̝̝̬͚̱̮͖̠̭̲̘̪̝͔̘̪̮̞̺ͅd̸͊͌̍̓͗­̡̧̛͈̖̰͔͇͚̠̤͓̼͇͖͕͕̞̳̥͎̦̣̲̳̟̝̦̥̞̰̣̜̮̺̝̫̲̙̭̞̠͇̐͌̆͆̾͗̋̌̏̿̓́̏͑͋̚͜͝ ̴̨̧̨̛͙͕͕̠̜̦̙̣̱̠̰͍͎̭̳̜̺͍̫͇͇͇̼̦͕̤̗̯̦̠̖̖̗̣̳̰͓̝͎̟̜̞̞̻̹̦͙̗̠̘̜͒̀̏̏̈̈́̊͜͝­̢̨̠͖͉͎̭̻̮̖͍̞̜͎͕͎̬̲̹̤͔̮̘͉Î̷̢̧̧̢͖̝̱̖̯̗̻̘̹͖͇̱̟̹̬͓̝͇̩̱̝͈̬̫̯̗̹͕͔̘̬̖̜̼­̡̨̡̧͓͔͚̼̫̙̭̬̖̹͓̞̜̜͕'̷̧̘̬̺͎̳̠̞̗̻͕͕͈̻̮͖͎̮͇̰̳̫̆̒́̓̈̇̈́͌̅͐̀̄͛̉͗̿̏̕̕̕͝ͅ­̧̢̡̘͓̟̤̼̤̩̬̠̤͈̲͈̜͙̫̞͔ͅm̴͒̄͊̈́̂̾̍̓̍͐̄̓͆̄̀͛̂̿̀̊͗̄̋̿̄̓̿̃̊̍͂͗́͛̓͂͘͘̚͝͝­̨̢̧̡̨̛̞͕̩̲̜̭͕͇͍̹̗̼̮̖̞̥͈͖͖̲̼̙͕̀̿̓̈́̋̊͆̿̾̅̇̊͒̾͌̄̋́̽̂̐̌́͐̋̚̕̚̕̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅ­̨͉̖̫͕̞̣̤͙̜̥͚̮͉̰̩̺͕͓͕̳̜͈͕̰̯͍̦̣̭͈̥͈̱͖͓̥͜ ̷̡̡̨̛̪͇͈̳̻̹̦͖͎̤̞̲̳̬͕͇̦͕͇͔̳͈̟͕̖͔̞̩̞̝̝̝̼͎̬̩̭̬̝͉̦͙̤̼͈͖̿̾̓͗̀͂̀͆͆̔͜͝͠͝­̞͖ͅs̵̡̰̱̤͖̹̤̯̥̬̙̳͍͖̙͈̲̺̳͕̙̖̫͉̄̋̐̔̄́̀͒̐͂̇͋̾̈́͗̍͋̂͆͋͌͒̈́͒̍̿̽͒͊̚͝͠͝͠͝͠­̢͔̭̟̦̠̤͎̣̺̙̲̜̤͉͈̣͍͙̯̝̤̗͉̜̥̫͉̤̻̲̰̱̝̞̦̝͉͖̭͇̥̜̲̤͓̻͍͖̳͜ͅơ̸̛̈̊̌̓̇̄̔͑͘­̡̢̢̛̛͎̦̰̯̩̦͉̄̌̈͒̊̅͋̿͊̓̆͌̓̏̋͌̅͊̔̇̈́͌̂̐̀̽̾̂̇̒̇̇͊̃̇̎́̓͐̊̿̾̓͋̊̕̕͘͘͝͝͠͝­̢̡̧̲̪͙̻̯̳̦̫͔̖̙͈̫͉̘̭̖̺͉̠̝̹̲̼̤̥̘̳̩͇̟̣͙͙̮̝̳̮̤͈̩̹̯̬̭̦̩̫̗̜ͅr̶̎̋̏͋̈́̒̍̾͝­̨̛̛̘̙̩̲͙̠̪̹̹̺̼̳̣̦̻͍̃̾̓͊͐̎̈́͘͜͝ͅr̸͙̺͔͌͐̄͛̄͐͛͒̊̓͊̇̌̉̅͆͛͌͐͊́̈́͆̚̚͝y̴̓̑­̢̡̧̡̛̦̰̪̼͉̭͖͉̥̟͎̮̳̪͔̠̭͕͈̳̭̥̺͙̺̬̰̦͚͖̲̣̣̠̜͐͐̈́̓́̈́̇̅͒͐̍̉̂͋̆̃͛͆́̌̑͜ͅͅͅ­̨̢̧̢̧̡̰̳̰̺̟͖͚̗̮̬̼̝͔̮̹͖͍̱̠̹̬̘̟̖̯ͅ ̷̡͉̦͈̘̱̹͈͈͍͈̹̦͎͈̤̭̳̰͆̐͒̎͌̄̄̿͂̀́̒͂͋̽̈́͋̐̅́̉̈́̾͌͗̾̇̃̓͋̃̒̏̒̆̿͆̀̅̅̕͝͠͝͝­͙̼͖̩͇̦̗̘͕͙b̸̛͇͓̻͍̭̹̝̥̦͎̩̥̘̭̯̬̣͉́͐̌̈́̎͋̀͒̋͌͑̔̒͋̑̋̀̌͌͌́͗̓͆̓̚̚͘̕̕̚͝͠ͅ­̧̡̡̞̗̠̥̰̭̝̫͔̝̬̭͚͖̳̯͕͇̻̳̫͕̼̮̘̰̞̤̞̞̰̤̯̦͚̻̗̩̮̣̖̺̝͜͜ͅu̸͛͗̊̀̌͐͊̾́̋̚̚͝͝­̢̡̢̨͎̖̻̯͎̺̣̹̙̣̪̮͖̣̹͎̘̫͖͓̝̫̯͑͒͛̐́̃̆̉̽̓̀̐͑̄͋̉̇̎̀̈̂̎̇̈́̈́̈́͘̚͝ͅͅt̶̛͐̎̔͝­̡̢̢̧̨̢̛̗̞̣̻͉̱̞̻̣͔͎̤̺̠̰͓̱̝͕̱͈͇̞̳͍̠͕̬͈͙̣͚̝̟͉̭̰͍̭̹̱̙̲͈̈́̊́̈́́̿̉̽̆͑͝ ̵̛̛̗̭̣̰̲̣̱̃̌̇̉̓̈́̊̆̀́̌̏̃̈̓̄̈́̀̑̍́̈́̿̊̊̉̓͌̀̃̿̾̓̚̚̕͝͝͠m̴̙̤̹̻͓͈͖̞͂̎̀́͝ͅ­̧̡̹̦͍̗͚̫̲̖̹̖̲͕̮̪̮̱̼͚͓̠̞̱̩̱̰̞̩͉͖͜ͅȁ̸͐͆̐̀͐̉̈́̉̒̑̇̐͂̍̈́͛͑̈́͊͊̀̄̽̚̕͝͝͠­̢̡̢̨̨̛̛̛̹͇̭̺̪̙͍͈͉̬̙̮̩̜̮̦̮̼͇̰͎̻̝̤̼̍̉̌͐̀̎͛̽̀́̏̂̍͐͊̽̓̀̓̆̓͐͗͗̈͌̚̚͜͜͝͝­̨̨̧̮͈͓͓̩̞͈͓̺͎̪̣͈͓͖̲̼̯̺̥͎̣̥̻̟̬̜͔̝̝͕̦̞̱͙͜ÿ̷̛́̇̌̑̋̄̉͆͊̑̈́̎̓͊̎̀̊̅͗̌͘͝͝­̻̺̞͖̞̲͎̫̗͚̭̝̗̬̯̗̜̀̆͋̅̊͑̾̾̏̿͒̈́̅̉̀̄̊̔̽̉͊͐̈́̈́̀͂̈͊̓̀́̒̂̏̋͊̏̚͘̚̚̕͠͝͠͝͝ͅ­̧̧̳̟̩̲͚̖͍̳͓̳̗͈̩͕̺̘̗͈̠̟̬̘̯͖b̷̛̈́͗̉̋̍̽̈̉͊͛̌́͑̃͆̓͂͒͌̈̌̓̅̈́̏̇̒̾͑̚̕̚̕̚̚͘­̡̧͓̗̥̘̝̹̮̰͇̠̼̺̹͉͉̝͓̹̟͎̜̟̻̰̣̦͕̘̳͖̫̝̲̲̘͉͓̳̪̍͒̋͑͛̋̏̋͂̿̊̀͆͐̉̿̂̂̕͘͘͜͜e­̴̢̹̟͕͙̰̳͔͕̞̦͖̖̜̞̰͙̪̥͍̜̅̉̓̔̇̔̈͆̄̂͆̋͋̽̔̄͐̓̀̋̾̈́̓͆͛̎͛͒͆͂̓͌͐̎͒̅͑́͋͘̚͝͝­̧̤͓̦͔̺̲̳̭͎̻̯̦̩͔͓̦̹͇̤̘̖̼͙̲̪̯͇͈̖͜ ̵̧̧̡̡͇͚̟̯͖̠̥̗̪̫̞̳̬͉̳̜͔͚̜͈͉͓̝̠̯̯̮͕̻̮̬̇̓̑͐̉͊̊̑̈́̓̏͗̊͑͌̕͜͝͠ẅ̷́̋͛̋̾̈́̀̕­̛̹͔̮̟͓̙̘̗͖̖̗͉͖͍͖͗̅̑͛͆̍̈́̅̒̔͛̓̂͛̓̏̏͗̎͘͝͝͠e̶̛̐̾̎͋̂́̇͐̈́͊̒́̂̒͐́͐̑̚͘̚͝­̧̧̟̝̻̠̹̲̝̜͖̘͕̜̟͍͈̲̝̗̦̪̝̥̹̬͚͈̹̖̘͈̦͊̈́̂̂̂̽̏͋̊͘͜͝͠͝ͅ ̴̡̨̪̩͔̘͚̳̪̣̺͖͇̟̦̭̬̫̈́̓̽̍̎͂̅̀͑̂̉̽̀̎̓́̈́̔̈́͛̂̂͐̔͋͋́̒͑̈́́̍̂̀͊̓̔͛̕͘͘̚͝͝͠͠­̢̢̧̤̟̻̯̪̳͉͉̪̼̥͔͓͉͖͉̘̰̰̗̹̮͚̹̲̣̙͇̺̼̖̥͇͎̜͖̲͍̪͓̖͔̳̪̣͉͔̭͙̣̗̯͉ͅs̷̈́̌̊͑͊͝­̦̳̼͇̭͙̾͌̌̆̑͑͋͐̏̎̏͂̋̔̉̓̿̀̂̋́͛͘̕͝͝͝h̵̛̀̃̊́͊̈́̅̎̆̾̍̀̏̓̓͐͊͑̍͆̊̍̎̐̀̓̕̚̚­̧̡̨̡̢̛̬͖͙̮̠̗̣̥͔̘̥̣̙̱͕̙̩̝̰͕̩̺̹̥̱̻͍͈̼̖͍͊͛͋̀͗̓̀̃̾͑̿̈̾͂̋̈́͑̈́͐̾͆̄́͗́͂͜͝­̢͇̳͈̪͖̮͕̦̝̣͕͚̻̤̰̘̠̳̺͎͓̪̙̳͉͇̗ͅơ̴̛͋͗̊͒̏̌͋͒͊̈́̓́̊̽͌̏͑̒̈́͒̀̀̈́̑̾͂̈́͑͆̕͘͠­̧̧̛̜̳͙̞̞̗̟̫̟̻̖̠̭̗̪̰̈̏̐̾̿̈͌̈́͊̄̀̆͐̃̍̔̈́́̊̅̔̏͂̐̓̽̋̒̌̈́̒̎̄́̀̌̄̍͂̏̇̀̕̚͜͝­̧̧̨͔̪͚̪̘̫̬̮̮͙̻̜͔̖̥̺̫̠͎̹͔̭ü̷̧̡̺̼̤̪̬̰̳̹̻̹̝̙͜͜ͅl̵̛̉͛̊̇̈́̐̋͗̉̌̀̈́̊̈̍̂̀­̭͔̩̩̺̱͕͈͎͖͔̟̤̇̔̑́͒̂͊̋̊̽͐̍͂̎̈̽͆̈̅̋͆͗̀̃̓̎͊̑͊̎͂̊̋̑͛̋̓̿̇̓̾̀͒̂̀̍͗̕̚͠͝ͅ­̡̨̧͚̙̫̘͉͙͍͎̼͈͎̗͇̙̟̙̯͙̠͜ͅd̶̛̛̑́̀̐͒͐͗̃̂̊̀̽̔͊́̈́̀͋̉͑̈́̐̉̀͋͗̔̍̓͋̽̑̓̿̂͘͝­̨̢̢̨̧̘̲̙̖̳͔̰̺̥̙̹̤̳̩͎̟̝̟̠͙͈̲̻̮̙͙̲̹̱̰̞̣̬͕̩̪̗̤͉͔͕̫̭̣͙̼͕̃̓̄̋̔̇͆͒̏̇̚͜͜­̱̖͎̖͙̙ ̶̢̨̲̰̹̘̩̖͇̟͈̞̦̰̲̤̭̜̤̝̦̟̪͉̤̱̺͇̅͑̈̐͂̀͘s̵̛̉́́͂̇͗͑͊̐̈̾͊̈̈́̍̐͗̏̓̏̿͑͊̕̚͝­̧̢̡͙̰͓̮͉͈͍̝̘̮̥͈͈́͂̃̽̎̏̊̀̍͛̽͒̍̃͛̉͋̄̒̂͒̿̈́̄̉͊̂̓͑̈́̉̊̑̃̒̓̍̾̈́͒͊̕̚͝͝͝͝͝ͅ­̧̢̨̢͖̼̙̪̪̫̞̥͉͈̰̻͙̻̯͓̘͈͙̭̗̪̠̥̼̼̮̲̥͔̳̥̮̝̩̗͓̜̼͜͜ͅt̶͗́̇̈́͛̓͐͐̌̂̌̈́̈́͋̚͘͠­̨̢̨̢̨̛̙̯̙̹̖̗͍͓̼̙͙̱̥̥͈̤͖̖̼͖̖̘͉̤̭̞͚̥̞̣̜͎͍̤͚͓͔̹̬̯͚͉̞̙̌̈́̒̆̈́̒̈́̅̓̽́̚͘͜͠­̹̤̬̯̳͔̙͍̖̠̮̟̥̙͍̺̪å̶̌͑̇͐͆̌͂͒́̉̐̐̅̓̎́̈́̃̈́̌̄̀͆͐͌̄̈́͊́͆̉́̀̑̿̾̾̆̚͘̕͘͝͝͠­̧̨͍̮̺̪̠͈̱̳̯̺͇̣̯̠͙̞̼̦̝͍̭͚̖͔̤͙̻̭͓͙̦͙͈̭̖͑̇̂̓͌̊̅̒́̌̋̾͌̈́̒͑͆̍̇̄̔̒̋͑̀̊͐͝­̧̢̡̜̻̤̝͎̭̖̮̰̯̳̳̜̠̩̦͎̳̭̘͓̟̜͍͙̳̠̜̲̲̬̮͜ͅy̴̑̓̅̒̎͑̃͂̄̔̔̈́̒̿͊͛̂͊̃̍̌͋̾̀̚̕­̢̞̤̳̮̙̖̝͖͛̀̒̆̈͒́͛ ̵̒̈́̓̀̇́̈́͂̍̈́̔̃̅̑̓́̑̀̒̉̿͆̿̌̽̓͛̓́͋̾̑͑̂͋̉̾̐̏̉̎͗̀̽͒̀͋͒͗̍͋̉̀͑͘̚̚̕͘̚͘͠͝͠­̡̡̢̧̨̧͚̳̮̻̣̠̲̙͉̲͍̜̝̼̝̯͔̰̙̯͈͇̱̲̯̗̙̗̖͎͖͔͙̻̪̝̺̺͈̻̬̰́̂̓͒̓͑̊̏͗͆͘f̷̐͋͘͝­̧̡̮̩̠̬̼̗̭̼̞̹̜̱͇̺̲̦̗̝̝̟͕̯̖͔̣̪͙̦̪͕̳̭̝͍͇͉͍̪̰̖̰̫͎͓̗̲͔̹͕̉̀̂̈́̋̎͌͂͐͒̈͜͝ͅ­̧̢̢̥̥̮̝̟͇͚̤̩͕̜̤r̷͔̱͉̮̭̙͉̜̙͇̠̬͖͔͖̓̀̒̋ĭ̶̡̆̑́̾̊̅́̒́̽̈́̈́́͌̄̄͆͆̅̈́́̒̕͘̕­̡̡̻̗̮͎̠̠̠̖̞̼̟͚̖̠̱̣̗̟̥̹̰̠̤͙̱̝͉̬̭̩͔̪͓̫̗̰̫̠̺̣̙̮̻̗̹͜e̶̐̈̾̔͌̊͑̈́̾̾̽̇̀̅̆­̧̧̢̧̰̩̻̘͚͇͉̼̗̗̘͙̠̤̖͇͔̬̼̼͉̥͎̱̟̜̻̞͈̰͍̣̮̳̯̺͒ͅͅn̷͌̽̀̔̃͆̑̐̿̋̌̓͊̉͋̍̐̓͘͠­̨̧̨͇̯̲̭̰̞̱̭̙̭̖̲̰̫̞̻̺̝̺̱̠͚̫̦̪̟̫̼̼̼̟̝̋͌̃̌͛͜͜d̴̽̒̔̇̈́̍̌̄͛̐̓͗̐̒̓̀̈́̎̏͘͘­̢̨̢̡̧̧̛̮̫̖͈͖̠̯͚͔͔̤͉͈͖͎̟͈̝̟̹͔̟̭̞̬̯͓̫͉͓̋̓͊̈́̏̋̑͊͂͒͐͊̂̎͒̊̎͘͜ͅs̷̑̆̂̎̇­̨̛̛̰̭̫̺͔̟̗̺̘̘͉̞̠̳͈̤̭̳͌̋̋͑͒̃̾̾̒̉̈́̈́͊̏͋̈̈́̍͛̑͊͆̉̊͑̎͌̈́́̈́̌̄͐̅̀̓͒́̊͛͑͛͐͘­̢̱͕̫̺̞̮͙̻̤̘̘͓͖̫͕̭͎̙͇̹̙͇͓͓̺̱͇̲̩̭̰̙͔͈͙̝̯͍̱̞̹̩̭̠͍̝͙̠͓͚͜͜͜ͅͅ?̸͊̉̆̃̏̈́͘­̢̧̨̧̢̢̭̖̗͖̩̳͕͍̦̮̩͖̭̤̲̮̣̰͙̻͕̱͈͔͖͔͉̳͉͓̤͕̲͙͚̻̻͓̬̠̲̳͓̻̮̖̯̦̓͂̊͋̀̐̈́̇͘̕͝­̨̩̪̼̪͍̳̼̙̱̜ ̶̧̡̨̡̡̮͈̰̪̭̤̪͍̣̰̫̱͕̝̰̲͍̫̟̩̜̘̻̅͐͒̾̉̄̂̈́̓̀͆̽̐̀͆̈́̀̅́͗̑͑̋̒̃̐̉̚̕͜͜͝͝͠͝͠­̨̨̡̡͕̬̼̘̜͕̯̹͉̜̖̪͚̤̲͉͈̳͔͕͜i̸̛͛͛͛̉̅̈́̌̾̀̂̂͑͒̂̊̓̉̿̉͆̾̇͐͂̉̈̓̎͊̉̎̽̂̚̚͠͝­̧̧̧̢̢̯͓̬̗̤̘̼̱̖͙̺̟̼̬̲͚̦̞͇̘͚͉͈͚͎͚̤̲̙̙̙̲͖̖̠̤̈́͛̍̿͗͋͐͂̿̾͊̓̂̓̈́̎̾̌̃̑͜͝͝͠­̢̻̹̰̮͉t̷̡̢̢̢̢͔͈̫̹͙͓̜̟̩̗̻̥͎͕̯̲̱̗̪̗̻̙͍͇̫̭̘̜̝̯͉̲̗̩͍̱̳̪͇̗̀̿͊̀́͆̋̽͜͝ͅͅ­̨̨̨̤̝̰̻̫͔̳̰̹͔̤͇'̵͖̘͉̤̝͍͕͕͔͔̜͕̺̬̰̯̆̊̈́͌͊̋̽͌ș̷̙̗̍̈́́̿̒̅͌̋͐̆̾̽̏̎́̐̈́͝͝­̡̢̡̡̧͓͇͙̳̖̹̜̣͕̤̳͈͉̱̰͍̥͜ͅ ̴̨̧̢̡̢̢͕͕̳̘̣̝̦͍̮͕̭̝͈̩͙̦͕̖͍͔͉̦̟͎͕̖̹͎͎̗͖͙̣͎̝̙̈͗͋͜ͅr̴̎̈́̇̈́͗͛̈̇̌͊̏̕̚̕͝­̧̛̻̳̘̘̎̓͊͛̓̓̑̉̓̐̌͊̅͑́̓̆̃́̈́̍̐̑͌͑̋͗̀̄̿̓̊͛̍̃̑̈͋̌̒͂̈́̒͒̂́̈́̍̃̍̕̚͘̕̕̕͠͠͝­̡̧̢̧̨͇̜͓̹̤̗̥̱̗̫̞̝̠̦̺̦͎̗̫͎̭̩͇̼̥̫͚̞̹͚̻̜̲̝̤͎̤̭͕̞̙͉̭̣̖̫ͅͅͅͅe̸͐̀͊͂̒̿̾̏­̡̡̢̡̨̨̛̛͚̪̠̲͉͙͕̞̟͇̥̪͖̜͉̪̲̮͎̲̳͇̗̹̦̼͎͔̘͂̿̓̑̈́͊́̇͐̈̃̽̐͗͐́̅́̈́̽͜͜͜͠͝͝͝ͅ­̧͔̼̮̜̩̹̞͎͎̼̟̯̪̫̪̖͕͜a̴̛͕͕͕͈̓̆̀͛͋͌̎̊̈́̽̉̃̈́̒͆̐̈́̇͌̿̃̂̓͛́͘͘͜͝͝l̷̐̑̂̏́̆́­̡̨̢̢̛̛̛̺̣̥̱̖̦̣̹̖͕̫̱̼̫̲͔̦̹̫̆̋́̈́̌͛͊͒͊͆̊̂̈́͗̉̈̊́̓̿̈̐͊̽̔͌͆̋̊̐̎̋͘͘̚͜͜͝ͅ­̨̧̨̡̢̨̢̯̙͕͙̗̹̞͖̤̖̪͔̜̠͓̜̩͈͙̭̦̯͚̫̜̬͈̝̻͎̬ͅͅl̸͆͑̏̎̈́̽͑́͛̑͌̄̈̑͒̅̈́̂́̋͘̚͝­̢̨̨̧͔̯̱̞͉̼̥̮̠̠̯̗͓̹͙̥͔̗͙͖̰̤̫̺̯͖̫̤̮̺͚̬̹̪̥͕͈͇̺̞̙͇̜̰̣̰͖͚̟̳̠͚͕̀̍̈́͗̅͐͜͝­̧̨̪̟̬̯̠̻̣͎̘̟̫̻͙͔̫̖̰̘y̴̛͋́̍̐̉̑̃̃̿̓͊̎̓͋̔̌͌̀̈́͛͐͗̑̓̄̐͗̊͒̍́̀̅̕̕̕̚̚͘̚̕͝­̧̛̼̝̹̳̞͖̽̂͗̌͆̀͛̈́͌͌͛̾͂͒͌͜͝ ̶̛̬͈̝̜̯̮̥͉̥͍̤̍͌͌́̂̆̿̽̂̊̅̈́̊̅̋̋̑̍̋̃̄̓͒̅͛̎̔̐̽̀̐͆̾̌̀̃̈́̉̃̇͛́͆̂̚̕̚͝͝͝͝͝­̨̧̢̡̤͈̗̱̙̜̞̺̙̭͈͔̭̗͇̘̥͎̝̣̰̭̹̖̦̲̻̝̱͈͓̺̪͎̖ų̴̢̨̨̧̡͇͇̫̪͕̳͖͎̣͕̭͙̳̯́̍̏ͅ­͔̺p̵̛̏̄̌̅̇́̄́̊̋̀̋̈̾̍̾̆̌̎͐̓̀̇͌̿̄͌̔́̏̂͑̉̋̓̈́̇̈̃͗̒̈́̈́̎̆̾͑̈́̃̔́͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝­̨̟̬̫̭̲͙̯̼̱̥̪̳͈̻̣̞̖̘̖̜̰͇̯̪̣̟͕̼͓͍̘̞̥͕͎͖̫͍͍̩̱̺̠̞̌̈̀̇̽̐̽̈́́̈́̾̉͒͘̕͘͜͝͝ͅ­̨̝͔̥͓͚̻̺̫̬̤̥ ̵̛͆̀͋̋̌̈́̃͒̓͗̆̓̍͋͌̉̈́́̌̃̓͂̍̿̋͗̋̿̊̀̌̋̌̂̏̆̇̏̾̆͐͐͛̈͋̋̀͋́͑̀́̑̚̚̕͝͝͝͠͝͠­̢̪̩̖͖͙͓́̔͂̈͗́́̾́̔̾̿͘͜͝͝t̷̛̽̓͌̋̏̔̓̔̆̃͒̄̄̄̔̾͗̀͐̆̉̇̿̐̅̓͌͋̉͆̐͛̽͊̈́͗͆̕͝­̢̢̢̢̧̧͎͍̻̦̺͚̬͕̣͚̻̤̟̥̟͉͚͔̗̻̪͚̱͕͔̫͔̖̪̮͓͇̲̱̝̭̙̪͇̥̬̺̮͈̱̱̥̲͖̱̥͉̀̈́͑͋̄̚ͅ­̨̹̻͇͈̞̤̝̝̖͓͙͈͓̤̯͉͎͎̠ȏ̴̦͈͕̻̆̈̓́͑̿̎̽̌͂̈́̌̋́̊̈́̿̉̈́̒̉̅͘͠͝͠͝͝͝͝ ̵̛͆͊̾̈́̆̓̇͗̊̋̃̊̽̿̿́̄̀̽́͂́̾̅͋̔͛̂͐̈́̈̌͊̂̏̈́̽̈́̾̈́̅͌̊̿͂̊͋̊̋̈́̉̃͋̆̈͘̕͘̚͝͠͠­̨̧̧͓̱̤̯̫̗̘̠̣͖̙̰̙̤̪̯̺̦̘̺̋̌̔͗̎͛̓̍͜͠ý̶̭͖̼͔̩̮̰̺̮̜̣̿͒̐̉̅͛̾́̌̃̔̈̈̐̔͘̕̕­̤͉̼̼ö̸̡̡̨̠͕͕͈͇͈͈̙͕̟̮̭͇̜͓͎̹̹͈̤̘́͂́̍͜͜ͅú̴̠̬̞̙̯͍̠̻̰͍̮͐̎̿̓͒́͗̀̓̈́͘͘̕ ̴̛̛̿̌̉͐̂̊́͋̐̈́̈́̐͐͋̔̏̌̅̀͋̽͊̒͑̄́̽̒̏͒́͛̽͌̿̍̽̆̈́͆̈̾̂̿̍͋̆̈́͋̉̈̉̏̕̚͘̚̚͝͝͝͝­̧̲͚͎̱̰͖͓̥̘͇̭̫̖͉̳͍̯̘̬͈̳͕̱̰̱̝̞̙̻̗̟͎̞̭̔̌̑̐̀͐͌̈́͘͜͜͝b̴͂̃͋̇̂́̐̾͐̋̏͑̉͘͘͠­̨̨̢̡̡̨̛̥͈̫͖̞̪͕͕̱̫̺̩̞̝̖̪̤̟̯̗̱̮̻̾͛͌̔̀̎̉̈̎́̏̑͑͊̑͆̒̂̓̉̆̌̓͌̓͂̂̀̕̕̚̕͝͠ͅ­̨͍̰̣̺̥̯͍̝̭̙ứ̷̛̅̀̔͋̃͐̈̇̈́̒͊͌́̂̒̒́̎͊́́̂̃̆̈́͑͆͆̎̋̀̑͋̉̽̎͒̎̉͑̈̉̽̕̕̕͠͝͝­̺͐̈́̍̌̋̽̉́͊́̄͑̋̕ţ̵̧̨̡̡̢̤̥͇͍̪̬̤̣̫͈̜̲̲̩̯̦̲̞̞̘͈̺̯͈̙͚͉̫͍͕͓͔͕̙̳̮̎̄̕ͅͅͅ­̟ ̸̽̾̋̓͋̂͂̄̑̓̈́͗̅̄͊͂̈́̆̈́̿̔͋́̇͛̽̄͊̽̒̀͛̎͑͛́́̏̿̇͛́͑͛̒̏̅́̂̎̋͊̈̀̅͗͒̈͒͘̕̕͠͝­̢̨̡̡̢̡̛͍̙̝̗͍̘̙̝̯̻̮̥̪̥̯͇̱̱̼̙̩͙̯̖͎̪̙͓̣̘̥̠͎͉̻͕͈̘̪͎͚̤̳̓̈̔̀͜͜ͅͅI̶̛̅̀̂̎­̛̛̖̭͖̹͍̤̼̝̰̳̉̐͌̍̓̏̆̓̀̅͊͐̉̊̍̾̓̉͊̃̅́̋̋̐̉̂͛̀̿̃̓͒̂̐͊͐̿͐̒̏̊̐̈́̀̌̈́͘̕̕̕̚­̡̡̧̧̧̢͓̲͇̮͍͔͎͉͔̫͔̱͚͖̰̟̤̲̦̰̤̲͖͈̹̙̭̖̖̖͈͖̱̮̰̬̟͜ͅ ̴̧̰̗̗̲̬̰̹͉̤̑̄͌̌̽̉̓̈́͐́̉̆͗̀̀̇̑̐̎͗̚̚͝͝k̵̛͒̓͂͑̔̉̍̄́̑̇̑͐̄̿͊̋́̋͛̐̅̎̉̋͘͠­̧̨̛͈͖͚̗͚͎̖̗̦̪̪̜̝͍̯̳̈́̾͆̓͊͌̇̓͂͐̏̾̓͗͑̈́̔̽̔͌͐̊̿͑̍̑͋̽̾̑̅̎́̃́̈́́͂͘͘͘͘͠͝͝͝­̨̡̢̯̙̠̝̪̗̬͉̯̭̮͎̮̫̳̹̲̻͚͙͎͈̣̦̲̦͈̮̘̲͚̱̜͓̻̱̥͜ͅn̴̛̉̌̎͂̑̈̎̂̀̇͌̈̈́̽́͒͊͑̕͘­̛̭͎̒̈́̄̅͋̿̍̿͛͆̅͛́͆͒̈́̆́̆̈́͆̎̈́̍̒̾́̅̑̑̈͑̊̆̓͆̎͑͑̄̾̓̏͂͆͊̀͒̌̕͘̚̚͝͝͠͝ơ̵̾͒­̛̅͗̍̅̀̄̈̓̂̎͆͗͌́̌̄͐͛́͆͑̀̋̎̓̅͌̾̊́̿̉̉̈́̀͋̅͊̿̓̈́̈́̔́̈́̃́͒̀̽͌̃͘̚̚͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝­̧͔̯͕̩̬̻̳̹̘̱͇̤̅͗̌̈́͊͛̾̿͜͠ͅẅ̷̢̢̲͍̱̫̲̟͎̱̩͔̬͔̎́̎͗͂̌͋̀̈̒̐̍͋͆̂͛͋͂͒̽̊̋͝͠­̢̢̡̨̡̖̙͕͚͎̰͕̜̜̮̲̼͙͎̜̳̖̪̳̭͓̤̝̝̯ ̸͕̺̳̩̭̔̿̉̓̒̀̑̈́͑̌̈̔͗̈́̀́͒̑̓̋̏̔͛̓́͐̈̈́̿̇́̊̄͗́̎̓́̆̈́͂̓̎̅̏́̂͑͊͂͋̚͘̚̕͝͝͝͝­̡̥͈͍̼͔̭͇̠̯̪ͅy̴̧̢̨̡̠̻̼̠͔͈̣̖͖̮̮̰̘̓́̔͋̋̀̍̊̋̓̋͊̅̿́̂̾̓̅̏̕͘̚͜͝ǒ̶́̇̊̊̑̕­̡̢̡̧̧̧̟̖͕̦̪͍̪͔̪̫̞̣̥̥̞̪͚̥̮̻̘̭͈͉̙̭̻̞͚̪͖̗̤͉͜ủ̶̼͐̈́̈́͐̍̑͋̌̽̾̇̆̀͐̐̊́͊͘͝­̨̨̡̢̧̧̢̨̤̝̼̫̩͙̘̖̪͉̟͍̯͓̩̥̲̲͓̩͈̖̬̗̤͕͓̦̹̝̺̗͈͇̮͔͙̜͓̬̲̪̗̱̦̮̹͈̬̣̘̰̥̜̪͜͜­̳̹̘͖̣̮̼͍ ̵͚͛̄̈́̃̈́̔̂̍͊͛̎̍͆͊̉̓̄̄̅̐̿͋̐̌͆͊͋̅̓̑̏̓͂̚͘͘͝͝͠͝͠d̸̛̄̑̿̾̆̍͋͒̃̂͛̄̀̀̊̓͐̚͝­̨̡̛͍̻̠̻̠̱̮̯̤̰̲̫̯̼͍̥̫̱̼̻̣̩̣̲̠͉́̾͛͒̉̾́̈́̍́̅̊̈́̓͑̅̅̓̎̈́̄͌͂̏̓͊̎̉̎̕͘͜͝͠ͅͅ­̢̧͕̟͇͙̰̝̬͈͎̲͓̘̫͖̦̭͚̣̞̳̫̦͙ͅŏ̷̧̧̢͙͕̦̰̲̗̦͕̰̺͓̝̠̯̮͍̘̀̀̀̍͗̀̃͛̈́͊̃ṅ̵̅̊­̧̨̡̨̧̢̗͍̙̰̹̰̤̱̱̩͓̦͚̙̲̱͇̗͚̲͎͈͓̗̯͙͍͉̯̝̯͗̾̂̉́̉̿̈́̎̈̔̑̃͌͛̀̽̓̓̈̇͆͘̕͠͠ͅͅ­̧̨̨̢̝͚̮̜̣͇͔̪͎̭̭̩͕̦̯͙͇͓͎̲̪͉̱̰̭͈̲͓̱̙͔̞͍'̷̇̈́̈́͒̈́̌̒̆͑̿̈́̉̈́́͂͊̎͂̑͋̀̌̈́̉̕­̧̧̨̨̡͚̥̼̰̖͉̰̹̭͎͎̱̬͈͍͚̯͙̗̠̝̻̤̱͇͎͔̗̱̺̣̗̩̘͎̺̖̙͙̜̹̟͇̘͓͔̹̦͕̺͙́̔́̏̀͜͝ͅͅ­͇ţ̷̛̭̪̠̜̹͙́̋̈͐̌̏̀͐̔̓̾̂͛̄͋͒̒́͑͒̏͑̋̔̈́̒̓́͂͌͒̂̇̆̎̒̋̓̑̽̈́̂͛̾͆̒͌̈́͘̕͝͝͠͠­̧̢̨̨̨̨̡̼̫̘̺̙͓̹̬̭̙̪͙̙̱̞̦̜͔̲̼͕͙̙͍͇̘͙̞̼̭̳̪̖̗̯͓͉̠̜̟̣̖̲̱̮͍̹̖͈͕̠͕̼̖͜͜ͅͅ­̼͔̪̻ ̵̡̨̧̮̲̖̜̼̠̩̙̼̝̲̳͖̮̹͚̻͍̙͔̣̲̙͎̥̰͕̦͙̭͈̣̰͈͇͕̺̫͈̟̪̺̝͙̺̫̯̙̉͆̋͒͗̒̽̋̈́̒͜͜ͅ­͎̣͉̘̱̞̙w̵̨̛͚̭̥̹̪͓̻͕̹̭̥̰͉͔̜̮̺̤̆̀̅́̐̈́̿̂̀́͒͛̈́̋̀͘̚͝͝a̶͌̎̒̓̏͗͂̒̈̈́̎̓͘̕͝­̢̧̡̯̩̩̳͖̗͚̱̥͕͉̖͇̜̂͑̇̉̍͐̓̎̈͑̍̈̉̒̃͒̃̐̚̕͜͜͝͝͠n̵̛̒̏̑̐̋̒́̓̈́͆͆̔̍͊̅̓́̀͘͝­̛̭̱̗̻̦͗̽́̽͊̓͂͊͛̽͐̽̇̈́̈̑͋̿̽͊̈̔̉̈́̋̂̓͌̿̚̚͘͝ť̷̀͌̓̎̏̈́̎̉̊͌͒̐̍̎͆͒̌͌̌̾͘͝͝­̢̧̧̛̣͉͍̹̲̳̗̭̮͎̣͈̩̻̙̲̓́̒̈́̓̆̉̉̇́͒̄͋̽́̈́͆́̀͂͊̑͑͌̔͌̉̔͌́̍͂̕͘͘̕͝ ̶͉͔̫͈͖͙̯̦̦͉̱͕͎̺͉̼̬͉͙͉̪͕͚̼̦̞̻͖̮̌̆̉͂̋̎̈̓̊͂̽̋̀̈̈́̇̈́̾͊͑͂̔̉̄͛̄̎̕̕̕͠t̷̛­̢̢̨̬̗͎̗̣̜̹͕͎̗̤̺̟͖̫̥̦̟͔̪͍̗̳̻̖͉͊̄̀̓̔̽͜͜͜͝h̸̗̞̫̗͙̯̣̫̘̬̞͉͓̓͗̾́̀̈́͑͛̀͜͝­̡̢̡̧͖͓̙̪̺̺̠̟̖̘͜a̴̛̓́͂̾̈͒̌͊́̐̆̑͋͐̇̏͗̾́̌̽̑̾̈́̄̓͗̈́̓̓́̈͋̍̽͒͌́̀͗͘̕̕̕̚͝͝­͈̝̮̗̩̼͆͛͗͆̆̃̽̚͜ẗ̸́́̃͊̈́̌́̿̑͐̎̄́͋̏̈͛͒̋͒̒̋̂͆̇̒̀̌̐͛̈́̅̆̎͌̀̌̿̃̈̚̕͘͝͠͝͝­̧̨͇̞̲͔͒̀͆͛̒̓̄̏̑̓̇͘͜͝
̷̭̦̮̜̲̰̲̱͖̪͚͗͆̍̌͋̈́́̂́͋̔̇̽̓̍̏͘̕͜w̵̿̾̏͌͗͒̔̽͊̕͘­̡̨̛̛̘̝̣͕͓̯͕̺͇̪̈́̃̌͊͑͐̏̍͒́̑͆͌̽̍́͂͒̿̀̒͗̅̏̋̽̃́̐̓͋̆͂́̊̿̔͛̔̒͒̓̉̍͒̓̾͊̕͝͝­̢̨̰̹͈͈̙̮̬̬̙̖̫̟̱̯̼̳̜͚͓̺̫̲͚̝͉͚̦̰̬͕̘̞̩̼̺͜ͅh̸̄̌͑̏̌̂̀͑̈́̔̓̑͋̇̎̏͗͗̀̀͂̒͘͝­̧̢̧̢̨̛̘̥̫̙̺̠̭̼̱̖̙̥͚͇̗͉̺͙͍̩͍͔̥̘͔͓̖̩̰͖̪̻̑̒͌̈́̀̎͌́̅͛̆̈́͆̓́̉̈́̈́̋̆̍̌͘͘͘͠͠­̢̨̧̧̖̥̦̩̬̩̝̰̤̙̭͇̪̖̮̯̝͎̺̭͓̞̪̱̦͓̯͍̞̘̜͎̦̘͕̝͜͜͜a̸̅̈́̍̄̒̃̏̇̎͌͐̃̅̊͑́̚̚̚͠­̡̡̨̨̡̱̯̥̪̬̝̩̙̙̥̦̙̻̳̝̣͈̠͚̼̞̞̪͎̖͌̂͊̿̋̅̓̓͘͜͠͝t̴͌̽̄͂̅͛͗͐́͂͋͋̎͂͗́́̀͆̈́͝­̡̨̧̧̨̛̺͎̗̝̻̦̖̯̲͓̻̦̲̠̫̬̟̮̤̗̮̣̰͓̘͚̬̬̫͉̙̯͙̮̅̓̋́̔͗̒͒͗͂͘̕ͅ ̷̡̢̛̩͚̥̣̜̪̰̦͉̱̠̙̣͕̭̭̤͈̟̞͇̻̗̠̰͔̺̫̺̘͚̲̩͎̗̹̦̤̩͍͙͈͔̪̖̉͌̑̉͂̿͂̈́̀̄̅͘͝͠ͅͅ­I̶̢̧̨̧̢̛̛͙̝͈̹͕̹̰̙̼̣̹̥͍̝̪̼͎͙͎͖̦̥͍̯̭̜̬̩͈̲͓̲̲͛͋̈́͆͗̉͌́̈̎̇̆̐̒̎̂͂̑̃̈̌̕͜­̢̡͎̹͓̘̮̰'̸̢̡̢̘̮̥̙̻̻̟̩̯͖̙͍̪̥͑̓͗͌̈̏̑̏̊͋̓͆̔͂͛̾̆͆̾͊̑̊̐͆͌͒̑̽̄̏̕̚͜͝͝͠͠͝­̡̨m̸̻̟̳̱͖͍̩̫͚̻̱̝͍̱͙͈͓̺̪͈̭͙̟̪̭̻̝̭͋̀̃̾̏̃͗͋̓̐̔̈́̔̾͑̊̈́̑̑̂̐̆́̈́̽̑̕̚̚͝͠͝ͅ­̨͔̳̳͎̣̜͜ͅ ̵͆̋́̑̇͗̓̇̆͂͊̂̂̈́͂̀̈͆̽͌͆͛͂͑͊̅̉̿͛̈͑͐̋͊͊͌̊̈́̒̊̅̄̀̃́̊̊̋̍̓̈́͂̈͆͘͘͘̚͘̚͠͠͝͠­̙̤̞͎̥̝͚̖͙̬̃͑̿̀̽̅̒͊̈́ͅͅť̷̀̄͂͋̓̀͌͂͂̉̒̀͊̐̽̂̈́̉̉̿̄̇͂̾̃̉̎͂̎̑͂̇͐͑̀͆̕̚͝͝͠­̢̧̨̢̨̢̨̢͇͙̲͕̰͓͖̪̱̬̭͍̖̞̜̣̳̖̼̞̬͚̙̲̲̟͓̟̙̫̠̺̙͇̥̘̪̤̼̫͈͂͌̏͗̃́́̾̑͛̿̒͌̕͜ͅ­̡̖̦̪͎̞͍͇̯̭̩̥̯̰͕͖̝̫̮̻͓̯̙͍̱͙̟r̶̛̺̜̃̍͗́̒͌́̈́͋̅̌́̆͐̔͂̏͛̏̀̎̾͆̽̎̀͛͐̂̚̚̚͝­̧̡̢̡̡̡̨͓̖̗̙̪̘͎̟̱͇̜̝͔̙͜ͅy̵̛̛̹͎̼͔̙͐̐̏͊͋́̀̾̐̐̓̿̀͐͊͋͆̾̍͆̽͛͐͑̐̐͒̈́̌̕͘͘̚­̨̢͔̺̺͔̦͉͍̣̯̝̼̖̗̦ͅi̷̡̧̡̛̪̯̜̤̥̤͈͕͖͔͚̠͕̰̯̱̪̊̍̑̀̈́͆͆̏͑͒̈̄͛̿̑͛̒́̏̍̎͌̕̚̚­̢̧̢̨̢̨̨̢̧̢͔͓͓̠̯̟̟̯̘̦̗͎̞̻̟̟͕͉̬͈̮̱͈͙̣̻͇̯͔͖͉̯̠̘͍̠͕̝̭̼̦̩̗͉̯͉͜͜ͅn̶̏̃̃͘­̛̛̛̛̛̃́͛̍̅̐̂̾̇́̊̄̀̀̿͑͗̃̅̂̽̏̓̂͗͐̋̉̀͂̊̔̓̒̎̾̃̾̊͋̍̓̿̄̏̀̎̓̔̚̕̕̕͝͝͠͠͠͠͝­̡̡̡̢̡̢̡̲̟̳̠̘͎̰͙̼̫̱̲͖͖̰̟̱͈̩͖̬̖̱̩̺̺̥̻̫͇̯̹̜͕̥̩͕͓̖̘͍̲͈͖̤̳͍̜̞̯̾̆͜͜͜͜ͅͅ­̠g̵̾̍̿͒͛̎̈́͐̓͊́͊͗̀̈́̇̿̒͗͂̐̽̏̓̍̒̉̔͗̄́̾̏͂̌̑͐̿̂̏̐́̇̇̂̈̏͂̇̌͊́̇́̔̈́͘̕͘͝͝͠­̡̡͇̮̤̣̱͍̙͙͍̩̗̟̺͓̯̭̻͙͇͉̺̜͖̜̠͖̯̣̼̝̫̥̠͖̮̟͍̰̹̯̞̦̠͕͙̰̱̳͍̦͆̑̅͗̓̀͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅ­̢͍͇͇̟̯̰̬̫̠̟̗͖̰͙͔͜ ̴̡̢̡̨̛̦̬̪͚̪̠͎̺̝͎̼̝͕̤̳̼͓̤̠̩͕̝̩̜̯͈͚͚͉̗͙̝̣̹̳̮̱̟͓̞͍̣͓͕͍̭̫̞̦̮̻̫̠̞̬̫̞͓ͅ­̜̯͓̗̣͔͙̳t̶̛̄̀̽͆͑͌̑̓͊̋̂̍̊̎̊̍̋͊̒̑͆̈́̆͂͊͐̆̆͌̀͂̎̿̀̏́̊̅̅̈͂̈́̓͌̚̚̚͝͠͠͝͠͝͝­̧̢̨̠̗̣̣͇̣͍̜̗̪̮͓̹̦̯̮̦̖̤̖̹̰̦̗̭͕̘̳̦͉͗̇̑o̷̾̌̇͆̿̏̊̎͌̊͛͗̾̉͑͑̏̒̈͌͆̎̆̐̿̾͘­̧̢̡̙̠̤̹̼͖̘̤̫̣̞̗̖̦̜̞͓̖̺͓͔͇̞͔͖̈́̀͆͗͆̾̏͒͆̎͑́͊̊̑̀͌́̊̑̇̊̐̅̓͗̎̉̉̈́̄̚̕͘͜͠͝­̧̡̪̹̺͕̮̹̮͍͍̜̯̫̝͇͕̲͔̜̼̳̼̞̫̻͚̻̤̬̥̦͎̩͎̜͉͓̰̳̻̲̩͈̜͜͜ͅ ̵̛̛̛̍̓͒̑̆̀̓͌̀̑̅͋̈̓̏̿͌̔̏̋̐̑̌̆̍̎͆̌͌̀̈̾́̾̉͆̈͆̇͌̆̅̅̊͌̉͋̊͒̄̓̚͘͘͝͠͠͝͠͝͠­̡̡̢̧̡̤̥̜̲͖̺̝̝͔̳̜̘͈̣̝͈̯̬̺͕̦̼̲̘̪̥̖̻̥̘͎̘͓̟̦̭͖͖̦̫̘̰̬͈͈̑̐̃̍̔̂̽̅̌̂̎̒̾̕ͅ­̨̥͇͕̲̺̟͎̝s̸̡̢̳̞̙͔̬͕̠̞͙̤̖͕͖̘̥̯̦͙͍̤͍̥̫͙̫̟̟̻̜̯̮̝̩̯͖̳̫̞͚̱̈́̎̓̓͊͑̓̉̌͜͠ͅ­̨̢̫̠̙̫̩̭̙̭̰̱̥̱̤͎̠͖̠̝̻̘͎͜͜a̵̛̛̛̐͊̄̽̈́̓̔̓̄͗͂̀̑̅̽͛̍͊̏͒́̀́̄̏̃͗̈͘͘͘͠͠͝͝­̢̧̨̛̩̠̗͓̫̥̜̯̥̘͉̞̗͖̬̝͙̬̰̻̯̻̈́́͐̋̌̍̊͊̿̄͆̀̎̎̌͐̄͒̏͗̂̏̌͗̄̏́̓̓̌̽̎͛̽͘̕͘͜͝­̡̢̧̞̖̣͇̭y̴̛͒̐͊̎̉̅̊̋͋͂̅̿́͐́̊̓̂͆̐͐̀͒͑̑͂̀̀̌̃̇̇̃͆̉̏̾̊̒̑̀͛̀͋͆̅̅͘͘̕͝͝͝͝­̨̨̧̡̨͖͍̱̺̼͎̗̗͎̮̻̰͈̭͇̻͍̖͎͖͚͖̜̟͚͈̞̻͉̠̯̱̮̤͇̯̯̱͛̒́̋́̒̀̆͑̐̿̽͑̔̐̂̂̏̓̚͝ͅ­̧͎͎̞̩̤̣̻͈̰̯̱͙̭̯̳͙͇̦̝̝͓̟̳ ̶̡̧̛̖̮͕͙̩͙͇̪͚͓̬̣͓̹̠͇̘͈͎͇͉͔̤̹̦̬̮͚̹̞͚͔͎̞͇͉̳̃̔̂͗̓͆̾͌̈́̆͆̓̍̀̅̅̆̓̈́̚̕͜͜͝­̡̢̡͓̹̼̗̟̞̰̙̫̥͍̯̰̗̬͎͉̻̜̞̳i̴̛͊̊̿̈̒͊̃̓̊̋̒͗̾͋͑͛̽̇̂͗̋̒͊͌̒͆̅̈́͆͐̄̕̚͘͠͝͝͝­̢̨̨̡̡͇̮̬̻͇̟͇͙̙̞̟̳͈͍̻̻̺̫͉̫͓̮̟̲͓̘̳̙̬̙̙̱̱͍̟̙̥̗̤̜̉̎̓͒́̏̀̎͐̅͐̍̂̍̿̈́͜͜͝ͅ­̧̗̼̖s̷̢̡̡̛̛̛̛͖̪͎̃̒̑͒̄̈́̽̐́̀̆̑͗̓̈́̈́̅̔͗͌̃̍͌̎͐̂̈͒́̾̎͋̆̉̈́̀̇̋̂͐̇̾̈̒̍̕͘͝͝­̨̨̧̡̨̡̹͓̮̭̟̺͍̖͈̞̥̱̘̱̪͎̬̤͇̱͎̮͈͕͔̹̺̯̣̺͖̩̗͓̦̤̪̗͚͕͎̪̣̼̟̦̝͍͓̗̗̬̻͜͜͜ ̷̨̧̢̛̳̰̙̬̪̪̬͚̲͔̗͓͙͓͚̞͕̯͍͓̣̞̖̽̂͗̓̃̉̍̽͑͐̀̀̋͂͆̾̈́́̊̄̓͆̇̇̚͜͝͝͠͠ͅt̵̊̍͠͝­̢͓̳̣̦̙̆̉̓͛̌̿̉̋̃̐͐͌̌̈́͌͗̃̃̽̀̌̿̿̽́́̒̌͛̆̊̀̑͋̈͗̓̑̔̓̃́̃͗̓̓̇̃͐̐̕͘̕̕͝͠͝͠ͅ­̨̧̡̡̨̢̲̯͖͚̩͍̻̣̹̩̣̫͖͕̬̥̺̞͎̙̳͉̩͖͖̜̬̯̖̘̗̭̻͕͈̬̻̩̦̼̫̗̼̜͜h̸̓͂̒͊̄͌̀̍̓͒͌̕­̢̛̗̘̻͎̳̙̥͈̫̫̦̰̱́̈́̂̆͋̓͐̐̇̊̈̀̽̆̇̀͐͌̋͗̈̈̈́̾̆̀̉̂̈́͊̆͑͛͌͛̀̏͒̕̕̕̚̚̕͘͝͝͝͝ͅ­̡̢̨̢̡̲͚̫̝̟̝̖̠͇̗͈̞̜̬͕̬͎̫̪̘̩̥̣͖̫̱̘̤̬͉̜͙̻͎ȧ̵̀͆̈̂̂̍̉̃̉̓̾͋̅̾̄̑̇̆̾̈́͘͝͝­̧̧̨̧̛͍̘̮̥͈̱͖̞͈̹̟͓̭̟̱̣̞̟̻̜͎̙͐̃͐͆́͆̋͛͒̓͐̋̈́̆̅̏͐̏͌͒̈́̾̀̎̄͌̾͗̊́̕̕͝͝͝͝͝͠­̝t̸̡̨̡̧͉̺͎͍̫̫̫̱̮̭̦̫͙̖̫̟̲͍̘̳̖̦̫͍̥͎͇̣͂̇̅̈͆̽́̇̌̅̒͌̿̓͒̋̏̀͊̆͒̈́̂̂̆̚͜͝͝ͅ­̠̘ ̵̛̛͋̆̍͐͛̑̏̐͐̐̔̅̾̿̌͊̊̅̔̽̐̐̐͛̓̌͛͑̋̿̄̀̈́̅̈͐̈́͂͛̽͋͌̆̽̃̃̽̎̇̒̏̄̾̆̈́̓͘̕̕̕͠͝­̡̧̧̧͚̥͙̙͔̟̤̫͇͓̣̤̲̮̣̩̰̩̖̼̜͇͔̻̗̣̟̞͖͙̩͍̳̠͍͚̠̝͖̭̒́̓͗̋͂͆̎̕͠ͅͅy̷̛̋͊̽́͋͘­̜͗̔̄́̋̔́̈́͒̌̉͆̓͒̈́̌͋͒̋̔̍̉̆̽̐̿̋͋͂͗͋̃̀̂̋̊̋̍̑̓͗̀͒͋̽͐̐̌̈́̒͛̋̓̀̀̚͘̕͝͠͝͠͠͠­̨̡̡̡̲̻͚̠͔̜͖͍͕̻̙͉̠̤͕͕̩̯̝̝̺͚ờ̵̒̎́̽̆́̋̅̎̇̅͑͊̅̍̇̀̏̀̋̀̀̃̄̐̒̀̇̂̓̎͂͘͝͝­̧̢̡̡̢̲͔͔͍̼̹͕͖͖̝͎̗̹̦͉̝̙̖̭̩̳̝̪̟͚̠̱͔̱͇̝̤̻͕̝̏͒̏͛̽͂͊̊̅̄̂͑̎̏̐̓͊̋̋̇̕̚͜͠ͅ­̡̺͙͓u̷̹̞̙̹̳̲̙̙̬͖̫̻̺͇̹͎̹̎̾̒̓͑̂͐̋͊͒̈̏̊͌̅͐̔̀̊̏͊̇̏̈́̒̐͒͆̐̀̏́͑̄̆̓̈̕͘͜͝ͅ­̢̧̢̢̡̨̡͖͉̺̹͍̬̰̗̫͕̹͈͚͉͚͖͓͚͍̼͔̰̻̘̝̮̠̻̬̯̯̬̥̰͚̠͙̪̖͉͍̯̠͜ͅ ̶̡̧̧̢̨͖̖̦̮̟͚̻̱̮̠̞̙̘̫̱̪̻̰̥̩͓͙̭̱̫͖͕̰̞͍͂̓͗̊͐̊̌̒̆̀͊̑̋̈́̊̄̂̿̔̓̔͐̕̕͘͝͠ͅͅ­̢̧̨̻̖̞̻̳͉̘̫͈̣͇̬͍͚͉̤̻̳̙ȃ̶̢̩̟͈̟͙̳̯͇̬̙͉̲̱̺̲̫͕͚̹̳͚̗̼̠͖͇͍͔̹̻̒̈́̈́̌̆͜͝ͅͅ­̡̝̣̭͇̱̭̰̗̙̻̱̺̦̺ň̵̡̨̛̺̠̬̼̠͚̪̮̯̝̩̲̳̣̞̲̺̦̮͔͙̫̩̾͒̈̆̉͋͂̒̅̈́̑́̊͛̈́̅́̚͜ͅͅ­̝ḑ̵̡̨̙̪̞̫͇͙͈̲̭̯͎̝̩̬̼̺̲̗̱̲̻̹̪̂̆͐̈́͑̋͆̉̎̐̃̎̈͗̑́͋̈́̈́̓̽̂͊̂̔͐̀̆̿̌̚͝͠͝͝͝­̢̧̨̨̡̹̥̠̻̥̬̤̥̟͙̜̮̝͉̖͕̖͜ ̴̢̡̨̡̧̢̡̡̗̣͔̝̬̱̻͔̦̺̘͙̝͚̯͇̯͙̘̟͉̭̪̰̟̯̝̯̥̹̗͔͓͇̩̦̗͍̟̬̥̥͈̳̖̪̞͔̜͊̆̅͑̍͜͜­̢͖͙̼̻̰̣̗̠̺̳̞̜I̵̧̡̨̨̡̢̬͙͉̲͓̩͕̩̞̻̼̙̱̭͚͙̮̮̱͕̠͓̰̜̳̙̳̙̦͕͗̍̏͂͐͊͆̂̃̐̓̈́̔͝­̨͕̞̠̺̥̝ ̴̢͎̟̤̟̪̯̪̟̺̼̙͈̆̿̔̈́̌̿̕͘͜͝͝a̴̛̟̗͕̦̲̦͖̖͙̰͌̒̒́̒͂̋̾̎̑͂͗̉͒̃̀̈̎̾̈̅̃̏̃̈́̂̚­̢̨̧̡̡̧̢̨̼̺̝̜̲͇̲̦͎̳̞̼̰̞̫̘̙͇̳̬͙͕̯̥͓̥̪͖̱̳̖͉͙͕͚̺̳̖̞̭͓̩̫̥̮̮̰r̷̃͗̃̃̈̔͆̀­͉̭͎̥̳̦͖͕̣̗̜̗̩̹̲̻͉̺̟̼̜̰̳̫͐͒̅̀́̄̎̒̎̑̑̅̓͘̚͠e̵̛͛̆̑̂̓͗̀̅̆̂̏̀̌̔̒̓̍̌̄̐̔͘­̨̧̤̪̫̝̼̪͓̘̠͈̺̙̖̘̪͋̔̈̾̄̈́̍̉͐́̔̂̔̆̔̎̄̅̅͝ͅn̴̨̬̩̲͇͕͙̦̜͍̙̭̦̄͊̾̍̆̀̈́̈̉̔͘ͅ­̢̧̨̧̢̮̲̱͙̘͚̙͎̙̤̖̜̖̘̘̙͍̙̩͙͈̱͔̩̩̝̫̘̖̳̹͚͜'̶͋͆̆̐

How do you tell someone you like them?
(Not to add more confusion....)
But when you know them, and you see them happy
(I know, I know, don't steal their happiness)
But... You feel like they need to know, because it's not fair
(Polygamy at it's finest, it'd work if you work for it)
But that's not something anyone wants
(But i wish I could experience everything, with all of you)
'Sides... It's not like you can love more than one person like that.
(Especially when-)
Especially when...

One of them is your girlfriend
and
One of them has a girlfriend

When the wind blows, the willow bends, and that is life.
When the fire burns, the willow chars, and that is death.
When the rain falls, the willow heals, and that is life.
When lightning strikes, the willow sacrifices, and that is death.

When I think about you... Nothing makes sense.

The wind calms; the willow still bends.
The fire ends; the willow still whole
The rain passes; the willow still dry
The lightning halts; the willow still shakes

See, my world makes more sense without you
but it's so much better with you.

But is it enough?

VOICES
Hey!
VOICES
Could everyone please keep it down?
VOICES
Does anyone want to listen?
VOICES
Do you have a minute?
VOICES
Never mind. It's nothing.
VOICES
MAKE
IT
STO-
Silence.

I wonder if I think of you
Or if I think about everyone else....

Or maybe this isn't love it's just something else?

***** this, I don't love just you but I'll stay with you
because maybe you'll love me back if I can't attack you first.


sigh
Just any other day without you

I live this nightmare
so I can be something.

But what is it?
What do I slog through
hours of pain for?



Maybe I do it for the few minutes I get to spend with you

There's 52 weeks in a year
that means 104 weeks go into two years
and then 156 in three
and 208 in four
and 260 in five
and 312 in six...

I wrote something for you that's six years long.

I hope to god you can read it

I love your smile
all quiet, and cute
but flirty, [****?]

I'm not good with words, I guess
but you know, you make me smile
and that's just one reason that

I love you
and all of your fragile pieces

Sometimes I wish that he'd just listen to me, you know? Like, all I'm trying to do is just tell him what he should feel.. Or rather, how I feel.

I wanted to talk to him, ask him about all the darkest pain she felt whenever he held her hand, touched her mind. She wouldn't let me SPEAK to anyone.

But I needed to speak. And October listened.

I'm not sorry she did.

Sometimes, I look back at all the things I've done

and I sit.
and I wonder.


And then I think of you.

Five hours since I got my sweatshirt back from you,
when I got a note, covered with the dripping tears of
a cutter.

I saw you.
You terrified me.
I saw your nervous glance toward me.
I could feel the malice in your eyes.
So I clenched my fist, just waiting for you to start something.
I was worried.
I left you.

Quit being such a **** child.
I thought you were different.






I was wrong.

My mother told me today
that I wasn't okay

I stayed silent, wondering exactly
what she was trying to pull from my angry lips

amazingly, she bought every lie I've already sold her
"It's fine, I'm just tired" [Guess I'm always tired then]
"I just fell, that's why my hands are cut" [I fall to often]
"My grades are my biggest problem" [I don't [can't] focus on them]
"Just leave me alone" [I want to sneak around and find the knives you hid from me]
"No mom, I don't know where they are" [There's actually a tub of meds under your clothes in the closet, I found them because I wanted them, but you trusted me with a hinged door. Fool]
"I'll see you tonight" [I plan on eating here and then leaving either to my room or to my home as soon as I can]

I found it.

My feeling for you.

For the silent calm of the snowstorm.

For the explosive silence of the thickets.

"Only know you love her when you let her go"

How about, "once your friend dates someone you thought you didn't like anymore and suddenly get really ******* jealous, even while you kiss your lover, maybe, just maybe you still like her."

It just doesn't have the same ring to it...

Two lines, visible on your right arm;
I kiss them every time I see you.

Not much else can be said about
two little lines, but I need to say more.

Two tiny lines that'll scar and fade away
leaving only a memory of why you

ripped open your arm because you felt
completely and utterly alone

because your own brother couldn't
do anything.

or say anything.
or stop you.

Even when he saw you create
those two bleeding lines.

I can see a world tainted by my blood
crimson or black depending on
where you stand
or how you see it

Ripping open old wounds hurts more
brings back memories
makes me awake
makes me bleed

its funny how blood can be running from your arm in a fountain of pain and yet people won't say a word because they don't know what to say
its funny that even though my arm hurts, i keeping picking at it to remind myself what it felt like 2 seconds ago

why do people seem to think
because they do Seem to think

because my arms bleed
i want attention
because my arms bleed
i don't want to share
because my arms bleed
i can't be happy
...

Nothing really hurts anymore.
Except for my crimson tears.

I'm finished with this
I know you're hurting
I know I can't leave you alone
But I know how to leave.

MY ARM BLEEDS FOR SOMEONE ELSE

Sometime I hope we'll be able to do this again
write back and forth with
all the things we feel
and all the things we want to say

I HAVEN'T CUT FOR YOU. EVER.

I found someone else
I'm happy.
You haven't
I can't afford the pity.

I WISH I COULD JUST WAKE UP FROM MY OWN NIGHTMARE

You keep telling me
indirectly
passive-aggressively
that I need to change

WELL I CAN

So I'm starting with you.
I changed how I feel to protect you told you I did.
I'm sorry
But I have too much weighing me down
without the pressure
that only a snowstorm can provide.

Ｓｏｍｅｔｉｍｅｓ Ｉ ｄｏｎ＇ｔ ｗａｎｔ
ｔｏ ｔｅｌｌ ｙｏｕ ｗｈａｔ Ｉ ｆｅｅｌ

Ｉｍ ｎｏｔ ａ ｈａｐｐｙ ｐｅｒｓｏｎ
Ｉｍ ｎｏｔ ａ ｇｏｏｄ ｐｅｒｓｏｎ

Ｂｕｔ Ｉ ｆｏｕｎｄ ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ
ｔｈａｔ Ｉ ｍａｋｅ ｈａｐｐｙ
Ｉ ｆｏｕｎｄ ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ
ｗｈｏ ｓｅｅｓ ｔｈｅ ｇｏｏｄ
ａｎｄ ｔｈｅ ｂａｄ ｉｎ ｍｅ
ａｎｄ ｓｔｉｌｌ ｌｏｖｅｓ ｍｅ

Ｉ ｊｕｓｔ ｗａｎｔｅｄ ｙｏｕ
ｔｏ ｋｎｏｗ ｔｈａｔ ｔｈａｔ＇ｓ
ｗｈｙ Ｉ ｌｅｆｔ ｙｏｕ
ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ Ｉ ｃｏｕｌｄｎ＇ｔ ｄｅａｌ
ｗｉｔｈ ｔｈｅ ｗｅｉｇｈｔ
ｏｆ ｔｈａｔ ｒｅｌａｔｉｏｎｓｈｉｐ ｗｉｔｈ ｙｏｕ
ｔｈｅ ｐｒｅｓｓｕｒｅ
ｗａｓ ｔｏｏ ｍｕｃｈ
ａｎｄ Ｉ ｊｕｓｔ ｃｏｕｌｄｎ＇ｔ ｓｅｅ
ｍｙｓｅｌｆ ｌｉｖｉｎｇ ｗｉｔｈ ｙｏｕ．
Ｉ＇ｄ ｌｏｖｅ ｔｏ ｓａｙ Ｉ＇ｍ ｓｏｒｒｙ
ｂｕｔ ｔｒｕｔｈ ｂｅ ｔｏｌｄ．．．

ℐ

I drew on myself today
and I drew my heart on my hand
so when I give you one
you get both

I drew on myself yesterday
and I drew a rose on my arm
so when I see it
I think of you

I drew on myself two days ago
and I drew 18 little lines
which drew blood
which drew attention

I love drawing
I love writing
I love you
so that's why I'm drawing love

I fly on borrowed wings
I stole from an angel
But now you call me yours
your guardian angel


I'm not sure what to think about that
because I thought you were mine
my beautiful angel
someone who cares

so which is true then love?
Are you my guardian
or am I yours?

I guess we'll see who gets hurt this time
won't we?

Waiting *****
...
...
...
...
Especially when
...
...
...
....
you know
...
...
...
...
exactly what you're
...
...
A̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅m̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅m̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅p̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅g̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅-̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅d̲̲­̷̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅p̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅m̷̲̲̲̿̅p̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅v̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅m̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅I̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅v̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅f̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅f̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅g̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅f̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅f̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅b̲̲­̷̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅f̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅m̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅v̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅v̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅m̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅T̷̲̲̲̿̅H̷̲̲̲̿̅E̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅v̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅v̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅k̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅p̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅d̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅j̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅v̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅m̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅f̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅i̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅n̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅b̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅j̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅s̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅x̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅c̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅l̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅w̷̲̲̲̿̅h̷̲̲̲̿̅a̷̲̲̲̿̅t̷̲̲̲̿̅ ̷̲̲̲̿̅y̷̲̲̲̿̅o̷̲̲̲̿̅u̷̲̲̲̿̅'̷̲̲̲̿̅r̷̲̲̲̿̅e̷̲̲̲̿̅
Expecting

How many times can you break someones heart?
When is too many?
Who decided that people should fall for each other
only to later fall from each other?

Hi there,
I just wanted to tell you that
I'm happy your hurting because of me
Cause now you can see the monster
trampling through your Thicket of Thoughts
just like I told you would happen

The GPS of my heart went in a different direction
one I knew it would
but you didn't trust me
or maybe you trusted my too much when I said
I love you?

I can't love a memory.
and you reminded me of what I could be
and you reminded me of what I am.

Sincerely,
The Boy who warned you

sometimes the things we say
mimic the things we do
i know that I
lie too much and
everything just seems to

wash away when you're around
only when I miss you does
nothing makes sense
to me

you're
over but you're still
underwater

You and I
can't stop this
stupid attack upon
each other's poems
like a frostbitten
tongue lashing out
foolishly to the
cold.

You and I
can't leave the
past to be
the past because
then your burnt
lips would heal
and neither of
us like healing
because healing means
forgetting.

You and I
can't keep this
thing we have
going because when
I write about
the things I
did and do
I just can't
bring myself to
care about you
again because I'm
an inferno
and a simple
******* storm
be it rain
be it snow
be it love

Isn't going to
put out the inferno

But thanks for trying.

Poem about you
                                                             ­                               Poem about me
Poem about her
                                                             ­                               Poem about him
Poem about death
                                                           ­                                 Poem about life
Poem about relationships
                                                   ­                      Poem about broken hearts



I think I see a pattern
                                                         ­                But I'm sure you see it too

When I say I lie in bed
I mean that I'm a liar
and not that I'm tired
or maybe I am because
i'm sick of hurting people
because I tell them I care
and then turn and push them
away to find another and the
cycle just keeps repeating
and I want it to stop
but all I can do is just
lie in bed.

Why is it that people commit suicide?
Is it because they can't see all the good around them?
Or because they can't see the good in themselves?

There are nights
when we can't see
any reason to keep
waking up
to this hell
to this pain
to this hurt
to this nightmare
to this lie
to this life

because the more you sleep
the more you dream
and dreams are a fragile shelter
but it's the only one we have

I need you to read this

because maybe you'll understand this ins't a poem
but a soft and quiet goodbye

why can't I stop writing, you may find yourself asking.
Well, I'm standing on the brink of something that could be
and standing on the brink of healing someones heart
at the cost of breaking someone elses

What  should I do?
I know what I want
but I know what people say
I know what you want
but I know what she wants
I know you trust me
but I know you've been hurt before


I just want you to be happy,
can i not say that to more people?

The answer is no, I can't. Not when they all like (love?) me,
and i reply

me too.

I have a deck of cards you gave me
but the pack is empty
sans a few memories
and an exact-o blade
for when I'm reminded of what I am
....
I opened it today, to point the blame
at my scars
at my self
at my everything

because I said you were mine,
but I meant you could be mine,
if noone wanted to take your place
but someone has,
so just become a card in this house
and let me blow you away with my memories

Hey.
Depends on who you ask,
but
I'm not an angel
I'm not cute
or adorable
or anything like that....
But if you really want me,
I guess I'm yours

̷u̷n̷t̷i̷l̷ ̷I̷ ̷f̷i̷n̷d̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷o̷n̷e̷ ̷e̷l̷s̷e̷.̷
.....
I'm sorry, who is this?

How many emotions do we have?
cause I seem to have 5.

I love you
I hate you
I hate myself
I want to end it all
I need you

I can't decide which is me
so maybe you should just take a gamble for me<?
....
But gambling on 5 sided dice isn't something I recommend for you darling, because there's a 3/5 chance that I'll hurt you and I don't like those odds

When I leave you
you'll miss me
I'll miss you
but I'll move on

When I leave you
your heart will hurt
your chest will be in pain
but i'll move on

When I leave  you
you'll have memories to
watch like reruns of
joy, but I'll move on


When you leave me, I'll be you.

I * you
I * you
I * you
I * you
I * you
I * you
I'm * with you
I * you
All my thoughts turn to you, don't they?

My jumbled
twisted,
messy
thoughts look something like this:
LJKfajks;flksomethingasdff; kjatthappensapfjal;kgjawhen a;ldasdfa;lkjyoure adlkfj;akejrklaround ;ajfkljad;kfj;l kme kal;djfkajsfl;keajwklfadand a;ldkfj;alkjf;lk

I think I like it

Why is it goodbye, and not
something true, like I wish it wasn't this way,
but I just can't bring myself to
allow you to
love someone like me?

Why is it goodbye, and not
something real, like I'm sorry that I'm a monster
who flirts with everyone and then
leaves you once I mean
the world to you...

Why is it goodbye, and not
something poetic, like I'll always think about the good times
we pretended to share
where I thought I cared
and I do but I can't
because my strength lies
in breaking hearts like mine

I'm glad you're happy.
I hope you do well without me.
I don't miss you.

I never spend a night thinking about how I hurt you beyond measure, and I honestly don't always hate myself when I think about the man I've become.

All fragile lies.

Poem






















Is that enough?

I wrote myself into a corner.
1,000,000 dreams I just can't place,
and you know you're not all of them
but maybe you're half of them?

Because when I close my eyes and think of you,
I can't ever sleep because if I think about you
then I love you, you consume me
and I need you.

I found myself in a corner again.
I found two souls I pair with, for now.
I warned both of them, and neither shied away.
and they both want to call me theirs.

And what's a wirter to do, when they
keep writing themselves into
a corner?