#WITH BEYOND THE SEA NOW IM WONDERING IF ITS IN FUCKING SPACE. IS THERE A CAPITALIST SPACE COMMUNE ACTING LIKE A FUCKING HYPE HOUSE????????

[guidetothegaylaxy]

black mirror fans: yeah this season kinda sucked but it was better than last season. I feel like it would have been better if-

me, who's been trying to place the compound in Fifteen Million Merits freaking out over a Hot Shot mention in Joan is Awful AND Mazey Day:

[rose-director]

Overhauled_, part 2

Content warnings:

Identy death

Loss of humanity

Impending death

Mild horror themes

Medical scenarios

hive minds

Description:

Kess now finds themself awake in an unknown place with an hour of air and their "new friend" speaking into their ear.

~ 900 words

Story:

Kess slowly came back into themself, as they took stock of their surroundings. It felt to them almost as though they'd taken a punch to the face, and a wrenching of their stomach fought their will in a battle to surface, but was quashed by the overwhelming desire to keep their helmet clean. They blinked and looked around, now entirely unfamiliar with the surroundings they now found themself within. No longer in the same space as the EVA suits, they now found themself in a small chamber, appearing to Kess be a medical bay. They were seated on what seemed to be an operating table, and sat for a moment as their memories of just a moment ago seeped back.

The safety line! Kess looked around frantically, then began to panic as they saw the safety nowhere in sight. Sure, they had a basic schematic of the wreck pulled up in their HUD, but with a derelect like this the map would be very different when damage and structural shifts were considered. Even if the map had been reliable, there was then the issue of the current room being one of six different unremarkable medical bays on the ship; in conclusion, it would be incredibly difficult to return back to their craft from the wreck. As if to add insult to injury, the oxygen monitor on their suit indicated approximately 1 hour of breathable air remaining before reserves were engaged. So, they were fucked.

Almost immediately after reaching this conclusion, they remembered the reason they'd even woken up in this current predicament at all.

"We were wondering when you'd remember..."

Kess jumped, and swallowed audibly, "W-where are you?"

"We are here." That voice, from before. Really, a multitude of voices; a sea of identities and minds wrapped into a greater voice which now demanded real-estate within their mind.

"Here?" they cried, beginning to shake.

"Yes, imprinted on your mind," The voices were calm and reassuring in tone. Despite this, the shock of mind against mind was too much for Kess. Losing themself in the tremors, their vision blurred as their heart beat faster and faster in the terror of the moment. They were going to die were going to die weregonnadieweregonnadieimdyingimdy ing im dyin-

"Kess. You will be okay," the voices rang, dispelling their anxiety as the words seem to radiate across their entire body, calming and grounding. Slowly, their pulse and breathing slowed.

"What do I have to do?" Kess asked, still somewhat shaken.

"Be as we are."

"Oooookay, and what exactly are you then, if you're not just oxygen-deprived hallucinations?"

"We are the ship."

"Bullshit."

"Our bodies could not survive, but the ship welcoomes all."

"Well, mr ship, I've got about an hour left before I fold. What's my winning hand?"

There was silence, hanging in the airless space for a moment. "Do you wish to join us?"

"I'm out of any other options, aren't I?"

"Then we begin."

Kess found themself startled as the doors to the room closed abruptly around all sides, and servos whirred to life as air circulated in.

"Quickly, we have very little oxygen time. Remove your suit and lay on the table."

They did as instructed, removing the helmet, chestplate, greaves, and boots from their slender form. They set their EVA equipment aside, and rested on the table. Nearly as soon as they'd settled, a small arm telescoped from above. At its hand, the arm had what appeared to be an incredibly powerful scanner, which was now targeted directly at Kess's head. They felt themselves flinch, before the world seemed to bow and shift.

The beam became their entire mind as it connected, interspersed, strung, and consumed their very identity. Ideas, images, footnotes of a past all slipped up and away as their being was tugged, shifted, and engulfed by the beam. Letting this go on, it became more and more clear that whatever energy transfer was ocurring, the beam was a bridge to something beyond their humanity; this was something new. They knew, in this instant, that they could choose. If they rejected this stream into their mind, the beam would be rendered ineffectual and they could simply face an end as a human. If, however, they chose to accept this new connection? That was exciting. It was something new, something different, and something beyond death. Always curious, their choice was made before it had even been recognized. Kess' acceptance rang throughout their entire mind, as the body on the operating table became an empty shell.

This was. Well. Everything. The voices they'd heard now surrounded them in a congress of synchronized and connected mental harmony. Memory of everything here shifted, shared, and recombined, as they lost themself in the sea of newness; yet it was not terrifying, but blissful. What was 'them' had now become a part of the whole, and the whole was within Kess. Within this great derelect, this new being which they'd been given the chance to be part of set their full concentration on the salvage boat sent to assess this hulking hull. No longer hampered by life support, they could return, if they wished. But then, there was no rush. This new state of being deserved further study.

[krakenator]

Chapter 11 aka “Welcome to Chili’s”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

Oh damn alright that answers my earlier question of “what will cause RGB to make like a cuttlefish”. He can fiddle with his colors at any time, but he’ll fritz and settle on colors after power surges as well

And he DODGES the black button question. Look at that anxious cane fiddling!

White knob handles color, black knob brightness, he’s just shown that the white panel opens to adjust brightness/saturation/color… is the black button just plain off?

“I lose you I leave you” is such a damned lie lmao

Let’s see what kind of Stuff people trade here!

Moments manifest as clocks, har-har

I’m in love with the borzoi vender bc I love borzois they’re such ridiculously ethereal dogs

Don’t like your current eye? Trade it for a better eye!

or you dont care about eyes, just revenge-feelings

Kisses of varying flavors, all shaped like X’s

STOP RIGHT THERE crimincal scum. RGB stole a farewell kiss (HAR HAR). But seriously, does the Market have law enforcement for this kind of thing?

I’m sorry but my shit fandom brain see’s discussion about trading body parts and my mind immediately goes to Skulduggery “lost his original skull when sleeping and replaced it by winning another one in a poker game” Pleasant

Incidentally ALSO a story about a standoffish dapper non-human taking a young girl on Adventures

uh oh

Lmao he ends up dropping his cane in panic

I love the movement in this panel. RGB just scooping her up with one arm

Goodbye New Suit we barely knew ye

RGB’s able to fine tune his pallet extremely specifically for just 3 sliders

This might be my favorite interaction in the entire damn comic

CAREFUL RGB YOUR ATTACHMENT IS SHOWING

I love how RGB decided “you know what i like what that quick camouflage did for my trousers, I’m going to coordinate my upper half to match it”

Interesting visual and sound effect- we saw a character swap out heads earlier without that CRACK. Considering Assok’s had trouble twice now with static cling to RGB’s face, is this an electric spark of sorts?

I like the detail that Watcher only speaks in one word sentences

God but that cane is convenient. What I wouldn’t give to have possessions that are impossible to lose

I love RGB quietly, actually checking in with Assok after accidentally knocking them off Hero’s head

And now for something completely different!

WHOLESOME ASSOK HUG

RGB’s starting to poke her towards her epiphany about the Make Believe

As a someone who spent a long time being a short person that’s such short people talk RGB

Dude I skimmed over Dial’s dialogue this page last time because, really. Look at it. So lets actually read this sucker

Oh shit Dial actually mentions the Elastic Valley way before we get there ourselves

He’s got to what now. TOby is there on a JOB? Someone put him here on PURPOSE? I thought he just ended up there and was so surly to every fucking thing and everyone passing by was like “ok u can stay there rudepants”. What’s he on watch for?? Unless it’s far more punishment than it is useful assignment

Bad puns, go to jail

Oh shit does Watcher have another pair of eyes on his wings? Damn! For a guy with 4 eyes he sure is not very helpful at his job later on!!

Hooo does his boss make Dial nervous. Lookit that stutter and devolution to muttering

When Dial says TOby took his eye off things, is he referring to letting RGB+Hero pass by (how would he stop them)? Is it that the wind blew him over and blocked his vision (THAT IS LITERALLY NOT HIS FAULT)?

And what the hell has TOBy done to defy Hate previously? What does he have opinions that Hate/Dial would have him change his mind about?

See you space cowboy…

And because I can’t make up my mind on what to meme here: “mm whatcha saaay”

A thought on Dial’s design… his head says “ON AIR”. Later we know that Hate can listen in on him. D’you figure he ever makes himself “OFF AIR” other than when he sleeps?

Now this little here combined textbox gives me some thoughts…

I haven’t paid attention to the color of character text beyond Hero’s voice getting eroded by sand, but… boxes can be any color and shape, its not uncommon for characters to have separate fonts, but words themselves? Only ever black and white. Now this could be for the sake of no eyestrain against backgrounds, but... consider the dichotomy TPoH is building up over its story

white in this comic is associated with bad things quite often. Lies, [-----], Hate’s realm. The blinding, scorching, destructive light of the unmasked Sun. meanwhile, darkness hides the Market from danger, and nighttime is tied intrinsically with dreaming. in fact, we JUST had an entire chapter dedicated to framing the Dark as good, protective, and aligned with trees and water, other positive entities

For a minute I got all excited because Dial and the Butterfly both have white text, thinking “oh, my god. do all Hate-aligned characters have white text?” this gets jossed pretty hard by Julienne’s white text, as well as Cell and Tailor.

but while THINKING on that, I jumped back to Storytime in chapter 10 and check this out: the moment RGB starts his story, text is suddenly white. Most of it continues to be in white… except for these two sentences

AND CHECK THIS SHIT OUT: THE TEXT COLOR/SCENERY CHANGE COLOR TO THE FIVE COLORS OF RGB’S SCREEN. HOW DID I MISS THAT??

(flips table) WHAT DOES IT ALL MEEEEEEAN

… y’know, the only character to have a white bubble color for their speech is RGB, who speaks in black

He’s both. He’s NEUTRAL.

Considering my talent for creating OCs but chronic deficiency in building coherent and decisive stories for them, they’re all probably wandering this Market and world right now. at the very least most of them have spent a DAMN long time here before becoming realized (im so sorry guys im trying)

The ones that are complete as themselves but their stories are unstarted/uncertain? That’s like. most of them. whoops. maybe this will be the kick in the pants i need

But on a brighter note: Fosters Home for Unfinished OCs

BUT by the rules of this world, RGB doesn’t have a story… yet this is his story.

Assok’s newest position of travel is adorable and im dying

Y’know… Hero and RGB have very different ways of solving things. A little obvious, but- RGB’s solutions are always convoluted, require multiple steps, and are a little ridiculous. Or, he at least FRAMES them as complex. See: Click escape, train escape, entire scheme to find a Hero to right the world. Hero’s far more straightforward but her solutions are also more, like… sensible than RGB’s if that makes sense. If it was just RGB up on the burning heart his plan would have probably involved more "im very intelligent” and pizzaz, while Hero went for the comparatively simple “lets zipline” (versus RGB’s upcoming Click escape clusterfuck)

All of which to say, I got thinking on that with RGB being like “it’s a very complex topic I can’t possibly boil it down to anything smaller” and Hero describing what the Make Believe acts as in one word

So if this worlds objects come from the sea, the sea is connected to other worlds? And it was confirmed early on that ‘stuff’ and ‘thought’ are basically synonyms- these foreign objects can exist in the Make Believe because they’re infused with enough Stuff!

Hero and presumably all of the other Heroes came from outside the Make Believe… they are not unrealized characters, or they didn’t start out as such. To exist here like this, they must then be imbued with enough Stuff/Thought… if we specify Stuff as equivalent to creative thought… by jove! I’ve hit on (another) theory!

Haven’t all past Heroes been artists? Julienne is a dancer, Melody a musician, Dial works radio, Ticker is a craftsman, and Tailor works with textiles. TOby and Assok don’t have anything obvious, but if I was Hate, I’d turn puppeteers into motionless dolls and empty-voiced sock puppets.

oh yeah, and Click. betcha he was a toymaker

I wonder what kind of artist Hero would grow up to be? She clearly draws, we saw her work taped to her bedroom wall

Of note… RGB is also an artist. It looked like that alternate human-self we glimpse later was involved with TV production, or perhaps script writing.

Tfw your ex walks past and doesn’t even hesitate like wow Magnus be a stone cold bitch like that

also like how his speech tail loops around his neck like a noose upon seeing Maggie

ALSO, that conveniently timed mention of hands when giving examples of what makes Stuff valuable in the Market- the nostalgia and undertones of regret are strong in this one

(watches this character die) oh jesus Christ. (looks at list of decommissioned ocs) ... oops

So this is what it looks like when a character dies… what does it look like when one is realized

do you like puns? want some more quality RGB roasting? like clothes shopping? the next chapter is for you

[acabloe]

Soon Goodbye, Now Love: chapter six

new ppl who r just seeing this it’s a guardian angel A/U

find all the parts here ☟

Ao3   ff.net

tw’s: swearing, mentions of depression and anxiety, loss of memory

still based on this song lol

here is the moodboard for ambience purposes if you’re that kind of kid

a/n: its been very long yada yada please just tell me if you want the next chapter because im stuck in au land, if you would prefer a Jane Austin au literally ill drop everything 

once the lights go out

Higher City, Angel Habitat/Complex - 2:45 AM

Half an hour post-transportation and five hours after Chloe’s accident.

Beca stumbled on her footing as she grasped around the edge of the doorframe, looking for a switch or a pull to shed light into the pitch-black space that expanded beyond the doors of her residence for the next who-knew-how-long.

Her neck whined in an aggravating crick from sitting hunched over Chloe’s bedside for so long and her mind was mushed from the weight of stress, overtiredness, excessive adrenaline usage and above all else, of course--grief. The only thing keeping her from collapsing on the ground in the doorway of this small concrete hallway and weeping herself to sleep was the sentence she continued to recite to herself repetitively under her breath: “Chloe’s alive, everyone’s safe, you’ll be okay.”

She far from even entertained the possibility that the last part was rest assured, but the act of mouthing it repetitively had a numbing effect on her currently fragile mental stamina.

After fumbling for a few seconds, she huffed in exasperation and gave up trying to find a switch. Sleep was the only thing she had the brains to carry out. Deliberation over everything else that had transpired in the past four hours would be performed when her brain was a just little further away from falling apart.

The man at the front desk of the grey building had given her a small but heavy and lumpy grey drawstring rucksack before dropping her off alone in the dingy hall of her new quarters. She set it down by her feet now, using it to prop open the thick black door to let as much light into the room as possible.

Hands outstretched, she shuffled inside and waited until her eyes adapted to the murky black interior. It took a few seconds but eventually the slight outlines of shapes faded into view and she finally spotted what she assumed was a thin standing-lamp in the corner. She stepped blindly towards it and jumped backwards a little when it suddenly flickered on, sensing her hand in the air a few inches before it.

The space was little more than a closet. Beca had little mind to care, too exhausted to be grumpy. Besides, it was pretty comfortable considering her own size. The walls and ceiling were simply white-washed cement and there was a foot by foot square to serve as a window at the farthest wall from the door, though it had little to no effect at this time of the night. She wondered briefly about the concept of daylight here and if there even was sun or moonlight. The sparse furniture was a bed, an old wooden sea-trunk, and a tiny porcelain sink in the corner. Beca placed her rucksack in the trunk and sank onto the stiff but not wholly uncomfortable pallet, lacking any sufficient drive in her to take anything off, including her shoes, or even get under the soft linen sheets. Her eyes fell shut and the relief of deep sleep ebbed impending in her mind’s eye.

Yet her head pounded and her heart still fluttered at a sickening pace under her ribs. She found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes closed; the image of Chloe, pale and fragile in such a battered state after the accident, had etched itself clearly behind her eyelids. Her breathing was difficult to regulate (she was unsure if this was due to her thinking so deeply on the act of regulating it, or an actual physical anxious reaction) and the room was uncomfortably cold.

She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. Everything was gone. Everything she and those she loved had worked so hard to build from so little was over and erased without trace. She had trudged heavily from wholly miserable to the happiest she had ever been without ease and certainly not in good time. All of that happiness. Up and gone like passing something eye-catching for its possible beauty in the sand on the beach, but upon running back to find it, its existence is nothing more than imagined.

A distinct memory faded into view. It was more of a moving image (a gif, so to speak) than a memory, but she could hear distant and muffled voices as if she were standing outside the door of a closed cinema to a movie she wasn’t familiar with.

The image was of her and Chloe in their late teens resting under a filter of broken apricot sunset through a canopy of birch leaves shimmering above their heads. Chloe’s head rested on Beca’s shoulder as she ripped up the grass beneath her, spreading it over Beca’s legs like dirty confetti.

She didn’t remember the scene as such. She only knew that it felt real. And that it ached her chest and throat and burned her eyes with the threat of tears.

Now she could no longer withhold the prickling tears and shuddering sobs and resolved that if tiring herself out would be the only route she would be able to take towards a somewhat restful night, she would charge down its’ course at a thousand miles per hour, foot stomped on the gas pedal.

She stretched and bided in the memory as deeply as she could.

Her sobs reverberated softly in the small stone room.

Underneath this, a soft irregular ticking noise sounded from above and outside her window. She ignored it. As it got louder she recognized it to be rain, heavy and sheeted. This prodded her curiosity just enough; still shaking, she stood from the bed and wobbled over to the hand-sized window. Sure enough, though it was dark outside, blue light from a nearby pathway lamp lit up tiny cascading waterfalls down the thick pane.

“How fucking ironic,” she whispered.

-

Chloe called in sick the next day to work. She wasn’t positive why, she simply knew that the exasperation of her most mundane course of existence would eventually wear whatever mere being she had left into the shell of a personality akin to that of a tired old cat.

The events of the past two days had stirred in her a sort of awakening for what it felt like to experience happenstances outside of her citadel of repetitive routine and emotional hibernation. Though it was not the most merry or enjoyable topics to mull over, she found herself wrapped in reflection often and began finding a need to force herself not to dwell on it so much as not to overthink to the point of obsession.

The urge to constantly check in on her odd rescue-project was difficult to quash but necessary. Chloe reminded herself that her relationship was barely visible with this human being--all she had done was let her stay the night and drive her into the city. They had barely even conversed. Still, the event had shaken her, and she had little else to think about. She convinced herself to only inquire into Beca’s situation in two days time when she was sure Beca had become a little more settled. She was confident that Flo was good hands and that she would care for her guest appropriately, especially since now she would be living above the cafe.

Except that Chloe found a bracelet resting on the coffee table by her couch that wasn’t hers. So she kind of had to go back to the cafe. Kind of.

-

It had taken the entire remainder of the day and most of the next to finally situate Beca into a somewhat habitable situation. After Chloe had left, Flo closed up early and she and her new employee spent several hours behind the counter and in the bakery as she showed her the ropes. Beca was happy to see how surprised and pleased Flo was at Beca’s natural agility and skill around the oven and the baked goods. Flo easily taught her to bake the four most popular pastries, specific to her family’s recipes, and how to make four of the simplest drinks on the menu to start out, as well as her way around the cash register. As the day came to a close, they left the cafe to rush their way through several more monotonous but still critical errands like setting up both a bank account and a small, temporary mobile phone. They stopped at Flo’s apartment a few doors down from the cafe before calling it a night and Flo piled Beca’s arms with enough food to last for a week or so. The following morning, Beca set out on her own to blunder her way through a T.J.Maxx and a shopping center to find some clothes that were--well, some clothes. Once she returned to the cafe they worked a little past 6:00 which came oddly fast (her orientation of time and its passing were still muddled and the work at Flo’s came naturally to her.)

Succeeding the whirlwind of toil they had conducted over the past two days, Flo expeditiously suggested that a trip downtown was in order and after twenty minutes of walking briskly through the chill of the celebratory evening, the pair dropped into two rotating stools in a colorfully-lit bar home to some very happy and boisterous company. It had been so long since Beca had had any alcohol, so she ordered the most obnoxious drink on the menu and four jello shots to split between them.

“So, first real day back! How are you feeling?”

Beca sipped her syrupy cocktail and grimaced at the unaccustomed flavor of alcohol.  

“I don’t know. Everything’s kinda’ blurry right now, but my brain is sort of slacking off a little in the staying-awake-during-the-regular-daytime department. The time difference is so much more insane than when you swap from different time zones on earth ‘cause there are an extra four hours of daytime and an extra two of night. There aren’t sunsets either, the sky just goes black for a while which is actually really depressing.”

“Wait, so, do you have, like, powers or anything? Can you fly? You don’t have a halo, right?” Beca again decided to refrain from divulging her distressing ordeal concerning her glowing appendages. She had blissfully forgotten about that situation until Flo had mentioned powers, which threw her in a temporary whirlpool of apprehensive unease.

“Not really, and no, I can’t fly. I mean, I can kinda’ tell when something is wrong with whoever I’m guarding, and I can slow down time by a couple of seconds, but that takes so much energy and I can only use it in emergencies. And you know about bringing the memories back, but that’s only if the memories have been taken away by heaven. They mostly spent time training us how to deal with any situation; so like, CPR, difficult-situation negotiation tactics, advanced martial arts and stuff.”

“Oh. That is boring.”

“Yeah, kind of.” Beca sipped her drink again which was less foul the second round, but still jarring.

“So how does this-” She gesticulated vaguely at Beca’s body which she understood as metaphorical- “work anyways?”

“Oh, well after you die, you can request to be a guardian and they put you through this huge crash course for protecting a human. After training you’re assigned one person to guard on earth for their whole life, starting whenever heaven thinks that person needs the most guidance. Sometimes that means bumping into them and becoming best friends with them or marrying and growing old with them. Sometimes you never even meet them in person, just help them from afar. You do what heaven dictates is best for them, so no complicated attachments. When they die, your memory is replaced in the mind of everyone you’ve ever met as someone else, so no one will recognize you when you go back to earth and you get sent back to heaven and reverted to the age you died to start with another assignment. You can never, um, retire or whatever, and apparently you can only stop once you’ve worn out your brain. And then they, you, know, cease you ‘cause you’re no good to them anymore.”

“Shit.” Flo had sat through staring at the dark brick wall behind the bar with a blank expression enunciating her contemplation of what Beca had revealed.

“‘Shit’ is right. I guess it sounds kind of cool when I describe it, but when I thought I was actually going to have to do it for, like, thousands of years, I was really fuckin’ bummed, dude.”

“Understandable. But you hacked the heaven system, how does that work?”

“Yeah, hacked, or something. I don’t even know if they’ll be able to tell. They’re supposed to be able to connect with their angels but I severed that attachment when I changed my assignment. I think they-” Flo brought Beca’s expatiations to an abrupt halt, holding up her palm to signify silence and raising her phone to her ear, an apologetic glance tossed in Beca’ direction.

“Chloe! Hi! What’s up?” Speak of the devil. Beca squirmed a little on her stool at the sound of Chloe’s voice on the other end. She couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but she didn’t sound particularly troubled. Even so...

“Oh, okay. We’re at a bar downtown right now…uh huh. Yeah, she is all settled, we finished a few hours ago.”

Flo removed her phone from her ear and hid it under her chin to bring her attention to Beca. “She says she has a bracelet of yours?”

“Oh, um. I guess? I don’t really remember having one but-”

“She says it is not hers.”

“No, Flo, I said it might be.”

“Okay...it is hers. You can drop it off at the café. Anything else?”

Beca seized Flo’s phone from her grasp. “Will you give us a sec’ Chloe?” She placed it on mute.

“Hey! What?!” Flo scrambled and stretched, trying desperately to reclaim her confused friend on the other end of the line, but Beca held it out of her reach, exasperated.

“Flo, why are you being like this?!”

Flo sighed heavily off of an exaggerated voiced inhale and rested her hands on Beca’s arm. Beca grew uncomfortable with the sudden sincerity in her voice.

“Okay, listen. Beca, I know you did not come back for the Bellas. I know you just came back for Chloe. I think you really need some time to adjust on earth before you do anything rash. I don’t think you should be getting too close to her and I think that you are idealizing your situation. Por el amor de Dios, Chloe doesn’t even know who you are! You need to slow your ass down, girl! We have the Bella reunion soon. You can wait that long at least.”

Beca chewed on her lip thoughtfully. This was the first vocal confirmation of what she had been refraining from thinking over fully past the whispered voice of reason behind a closet door barely ajar in the very recesses of her mind. For the thousandth time that day she swallowed the reflection of how careless and hasty her actions had been.

Beca had never dwelled so long and hard over someone or something as she had over Chloe whilst in heaven. Only her mother’s death came as remotely close a subject to how ruthlessly Beca obsessed (Obsess - used very much in the dictionary sense; not lightly. See also; beset, consume, haunt, etc.) over Chloe and her accident. Considering this, a complete and detailed plan would definitely make sense in this context; however, obsession to this point considers little factual influence in a non-idealized, material world. Hence, Beca’s rash behavior and her reactions to Chloe in palpable physical situations.

“Okay... maybe you’re right. I guess I was really weighing everything on Chloe liking me for me, and not all the stuff we shared in the past, you know? Sorry about not saying anything about it, and I really am so happy to see you. I love you so much. All of you. Please don’t think I didn’t come back for you guys. You mean everything to me, we’re family. I just, you know... Please schedule the reunion soon?”

“Yes. Fine, I will.” Beca slowly retracted her arm and placed the phone in Flo’s expectant (but now softened and more sympathetic) outstretched palm. She unmuted the call.

“Hi, Chloe, sorry about that, drunk asshole was bothering us. You can bring the bracelet to the reunion. By the way, do we have some dates for that yet? Aubrey should be here this month, right? Yes. No, uh-huh. Okay great, perfect, text the group-chat about it? Okay, bye!” She hung up and grinned at Beca. “Two weeks, as long as everyone is free!”

“Ugh, dude what am I gonna’ do in the meantime?”

“Well, I know that you only came back for-,” Beca threw her a glare and Flo surrendered, hands in the air. “Sorry, right, a couple reasons, and it is all you have got your heart set on, but you need to take a few steps back. I have to say Beca, you really didn’t plan this very well. You need to establish a solid base here because this is your life now. You may be an angel, but if you think about it, I am, like, definitely a saint for doing all this for you.”

Beca flipped her off and returned to wincing down the copious amounts of fluid she had spent an annoying amount of cash on.

“For real though, you’re right. And I really... appreciate everything you’re doing for me Flo, it means a lot.” Flo smiled and nodded.

-

Perhaps if Chloe hadn’t felt so out of place, she would have asked Flo to let her join the girls at the bar. But for some reason, something about the phone call and the whole situation whispered a sense of exclusion -- well intentioned or not, she couldn’t tell. She hadn’t felt this socially anxious in a while. Her mental health was not even anything she had thought about in depth for a few years and she had long ago passively accepted the concept that with age came dampened emotions, and that such was a perfectly natural sequence. If nothing would ever give her real pleasure again, so be it.

Another walk. Another achingly familiar song. Another foot in front of the other. Another fifteen minutes later and she stood in front of a deep, deep dark pond, rocky banks powdered with grey-blue frost. The water reflected with the perfection of a mirror the nothingness of the ashy sky.

Chloe now stared into this nothingness -- the sort of staring where everything at once is what those who are staring can see, but they aren’t looking, just seeing and thinking. She stood, leaning slightly in a gentle trance as she remembered the time she had dived into this same water. She had choked and snorted through her nose as she had come up for air and swallowed some accidentally. A friend on the bank had been slumped over in hysterics at her fruitless efforts to cease wheezing and laughing and coughing and yelling at her friend to stop. In her mind she imagined that it was Beca who sat beside the water giggling at her. Stupid and weird that you’d think of her, she thought, but she couldn’t properly remember who it had really been, and the image of Beca fit comfortably well in the situation.

She closed her eyes and settled deeper into the memory, in place but outside of time. In vein, she tried to remember who had actually been there to witness the moment. She couldn’t even remember when it had happened. This was not a memory she had thought about in...well, truthfully, she had completely forgotten about it since it had happened. The age of the memory prevented her from remembering details. Only present, was the sweet feeling of the moment, a honey-like residue, resting delicately in her conscious.

She was now fully trying to convince herself, however, that Beca had not been there. She finally shook her head as if to dislodge the memory and sharply inhaled cold air, opening her eyes to see, hunched over on the side of the banks with chin rested on knees, none other than the subject of her specious nostalgia. Chloe blinked several times and recognized the figure to be but a log, dark and rubbed to clump from weather and wear. Now freaking herself out she rose swiftly and promptly speed walked for her home, holding herself firmly from looking around for fear of misreading another inanimate object.

She wasn’t there, obviously she wasn’t there. Just someone who reminds me of her, or looks like her. Obviously.

[cviperfan]

E3 2017: Ubisoft Conference

-"HOW TO TELL YOUR FAMILY YOU WANT A JOB IN VIDEO GAMES!!!1!! :D" me: *stares into the camera like on the office* -Well after like 3-4 years of running poor Aisha Tyler through the ringer they just tossed her away well GOOD she deserves better than this shitshow lmao -"Let the games begin! The hunger games that is now all of you look under your seat and you'll find a random weapon--" -I don't like the new Ubisoft Logo it looks like someone split it in half in PS and then tried to put it back but it didn't line up exactly right and then were like ‘well it’s probably fine’ Mario x Rabbids: Kingdom Battle -WELP ITS REAL Y’ALL OWE LAURA KATE DALE AN APOLOGY -I CANT IMAGINE A WORSE MASCOT TO TEAM NINTENDO UP WITH OUTSIDE OF POSSIBLY THE MINIONS LMAO -OH GOD THE COINBOX VORED HIM -stfu Yves you've never ever wondered that -FUCK YALL WHY ARE YOU APPLAUDING FOR THIS LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED FOR THIS -MIYAMOTO holy shit -see the reason they all have guns now is bc they killed Samus McMetroid and ate her corpse to absorb her power -BILL LMAO -God I fundamentally dislike this but god I can't dislike Miyamoto for it im trash -....oh my god that awkward silence -"Representative Director, Creative Fellow" -well it sure is a Mario game that's never been made I guess -THREE YEARS?????? -'tactical adventure', Switch exclusive -I gotta say the art direction is honestly really strong -Peach is gonna murder that fucker lmao -turn-based strategy -FUCKING CHEST HIGH WALLS IN MARIO I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS -Okay but this is MARIO XCOM which... that's interesting tbh -LIke... idk the rabbids tie in is....bad but mechanically it looks sound? IDK -Figurines?  Not amiibo then? hmm AssCreed: Origins -if they were smart they'd use Roundabout for the soundtrack on the trailer just sayin' -jeez has it REALLY been 10 years -so if they're going to the origins of the lore are they eventually gonna bring the Future Past Space Gods back cuz that shit was actually interesting -a nice trailer tho tbf ubi has been good at making trailers for a while -"hey here's a teaser of gameplay on a off-angle monitor that's way darkened lmao" -GOD I didn't even think about it but the eagle is literally just the carry-over of the drone bullshit they've had in half their games over the last couple years -LIKE UBI REALLY HAS JUST GOTTEN THEIR ONE GAME FORMULA EVEN CLOSER TO A SCIENCE LMAO The Crew 2 -WHO IS THIS WEIRD FUCKER -Inception: The Tie-In Racer?!?!?!!? -...what exactly *is* this -so is there like a weird narrative now or..... -Ubisoft stop you don't know what Iconic means -oh because you don't drive planes, boats or bikes right -IDK Formula 1 racing is pretty intense -"excuse me my car is stalled or something i can't get out of this donut" South Park: The Fractured But Whole -well Fuck South Park but it looks like they at least added the option to play as a girl so enjoy that i guess Transferance -ELIJAH WOOD?!?!?!?!?!?! -?????????????? -IS THIS SOME FUCKIN FMV SHIT?????? -That's.... actually kind of cool -OH GOD THIS IS MY SHIT THO Skull & Bones -"something really, really unique that happens to use the money saving baseline of our established Pirate Sea Battle Engine from AssCreed" -Anne Bonney? -OH DAMN THAT PIRATE CAPTAIN LADY IS FUCKIN SICK -...hmmm -hmm so it's a deeper take on the pirate mechanics of AssCreed 3 and 4 then -"shared systemic world" mmmn - so it sounds like a more simulation-oriented version of what Sea of Thieves is going for - god I hope this isn't a full-on multiplayer thing -aww so is boarding purely a numbers thing that sucks -"the world of skull and bones is one that evolves" doubt.jpg -.............WAIT WHAT -okay sea monsters makes that a little more interesting Just Dance 2018 -YEA OBLIGATORY UBISOFT DANCE NUMBER -Man sub-zero's new costume is a little weird -welp Ubi takes E3 I guess -I like how they don't even bother to really *talk* about these games anymore it's literally just now "hey new one's out" South Park: Phone Destroyer -....k -it's literally just the turn-based system from the other ones transferred to mobile Starlink: Battle for Atlas -"Atlas.  Jewel of the Pleiades" oh yea sure -Let me guess was it an evil scary alien race yup -Oh that art direction is pretty cool -*switch controller* ...wait WHAT -WHAT IS THIS -Modular toys-to-life? ...Interesting -Like i mean you missed the boat on the fad by literally a couple years there but hey -huh so it looks like it's designed to work with *all consoles* not just the switch hmm -like honestly that might not be a bad strategy of building the toys-to-life gimmick around a game that's 'friendlier' to older collector types -"I grew up in the 80s" OH GOD  -"massive open living star-system" *jefferson voice: uh huh* -Oh okay so you can get the same content digitally you don't have to track down specific toys necessarily so... that's something actually. the price point is key though Steep update -wow that's kinda nuts they've gone a whole year without an expansion tbh -so it's an Olympic update?  makes sense actually Farcry 5 -I'm way less interested now that some plot details have been revealed that really makes it easy to "other" the White Nationalist Religious Cult tbh -still there's some value in its intent i suppose even if it's largely courting controversy for attention -"a place where people don't even lock their front door" oh god -OKAY GRACE ARMSTRONG IS GREAT I ALREADY LIKE HER -YEA tactical doggo -I can appreciate the response to all the whining from Not-Racists,Honest types complaining about """racism""" being a montage comprised entirely of murdering white nationalists :) Beyond Good and Evil 2 -Did Guy Ritchie direct this????? -YOOOOO SHES COOL -What is this if the game plays anything like it looks im down -I'm super curious about thie strong south asian influenced aesthetic -FAITH?!?!?! -....WHAT -WHAT -NO WAY -I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS IS REAL -Michel Ancel finally released from the UbiSalt Mines -DAMN FUCKIN RIGHT -I CANT BELIEVE THIS CHRIST -Prequel (oh so it's literally the explanation of why there are anthro characters in BG&E1) -HEY LOOK SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS WHAT CYBERPUNK IS ACTUALLY ABOUT :)))))) -Okay honestly this sounds like Infinite Space IM DIGGING IT -Online multiplayer -....huh -yea I would fully expect It's Gotta Have Multiplayer would have been the One Condition Ubisoft would have attached to allow this to exist

[idontwanttobepretentious]

2/4/17

i didn’t know i had this many people that would miss me

what the fuck am i supposed to do  

i’m so fucking tired

but theres him

and the other one to some extent

and i don’t want to lose

it would feel like losing

either that or nothing at all

its like my ribs are constantly being crushed

and i can plan for years ahead

but can’t imagine the in-between

and then can’t imagine anything after that

jesus

he was a handsome man

and what i want to know is

how do you like your blue-eyed boy

Mister Death

theres just this blank space in all these different parts of me

and i think it would be overwhelming to try and fill them

i think id burst if i ever tried

god its still crushing me

but the problems is not anything

or anyone

its all me

and i don’t have a reason

but thats not stopping me

i want to be a kid again

and draw the bow across the strings

and everyone would clap

i know they still would

but its all fake now

no one actually means shit

for fucks sake i could just go

and it would less than a year for me to fade from them

i keep losing time

ill come back and everything is the same but its been half an hour

and time is so fucking precious

but its also insignificant

theres two lights in the world

and they sure as hell don’t shine on me

god he’s so little

and so angry

and i want him to be the happiest kindest person on earth

how can i fuck that up

it would be selfish to fuck that up

who cares about the other two

they’d move on

they know how

and she's spoiled

but she has so much strength

i mean I’m spoiled too

but she’s smart and hates injustice and would fight

for all the oppressed

if you gave her a chance

but whats sad is everyone else

they all put on facades and pretend

and everyone pretends with them

but why

whats the point of that?

we are inconceivably small and irrelevant

theres a shit ton out there

how do people not feel crushed

i know there are people who do

i know theres names to shit i feel daily

but whats the point?

im so tired

less than year

jesus

I am the captain of my soul

and if i want to crash it into the goddam land i will

its less than skeleton crew so

it would just be me and my ship

and we can rest

and there would nothing

and it would be bliss

i wonder

if i do this everyday will it help

or will just serve as reminder

should i take that chance

what if i look back and this is childish

what if i look back and this is another hollywood undead

i have felt love so strong

and happiness so overwhelming

but sadness

thats always been muted

like I’m feeling it from behind thick glass

i want to feel it

but every time i reach

it gets a little further away

til my stupid fucking breaking brain

loses interrest

come, child of misfortune, come hither

i weep with thee

tear for tear

heaviness runs in a circular motion

love is a little boat upon the sea

the sea is numbness and its wave will swallow the boat

without a thought

god

i wish i was a part of the ocean

its so blue

and endless

and most days i want to walk into it

and have that be the end

little bursts of brightness

but they go out

they will go out

and even if they change the world

what is the world

the universe

is so much more

i hope that the fire and cliffs keep on

i hope stars keep shining and dying

i hope i can stop soon

it would feel like losing

until it felt like nothing at all

and i think that would be nice

i really don’t know what i love you means

i think it means don’t leave me here alone

it would be nice for me anyway

but for them?

and maybe I’m overstating me importance

maybe it will be less than a year for them too

god i hope it is

where is my imagined future

why are there blanks

if they fill in will i expand beyond my breaking point

how do they do it

i keep my facade up as well as the rest of them

but its exhausting

a nice spot overlooking a sea

that’d be nice

the air is warm like a blanket in the summer

and cool like a smooth stone in the winter

the grass is soft

the water is clear 

the ground is rocky 

there is space and air 

and also closeness 

and it smells like home

and theres always time

there are no blanks

the ship didnt hit the land

it docked

and now me and my soul

can rest

i think that’d be nice

[salosion]

Call me crazy all you want, Crazy is genius you don’t insult infact you lift me up now be a breeze and wind this up, intelligence is found in cups surrounded by words at tables of nerds, crazies & Gods

when rainbow colored dust, winds bye, inhale babe, inhale

for I know I won’t be able to see me die and live to tell the tale.

media fills the lives we own, disguised as lovely treats but i don’t think iv’e ever lived to taste a poison oh so sweet.

I like this picture because of the 🚪

The 🚪 is open for you for me for us and for more. More then the thought could ever explore because God exposed himself when we melted with the galore that Is Love in conquer controlling all the mediums that wear gloves to hide the real shit above like the media be the possibility where Love can spread the shores to the planets we ignore cause they're like Godly light years away, but the media is a gift people abuse like me I guess like this with this my posts of loving bits of my kisses of benevolent bliss filled with the insights of an intuitive mystic artistic good wild lickings of my spank, so I use it I abuse it, the media, cause it's my heart, it's my canvas and where I start where I post the reasons I creatively are, I use the media to try to spread far the sounds that make me so damn happy I wouldn't otherwise be poetically-rambling this fantastically,(arguably of course, taste is but self fruit picking, and Im not insult I know Im wild and swolle with it, dope to the point I know that crafts fill my souls) I use the media for my gifts so I can elevate my work higher to kiss the sky higher by the stars and higher to where God is kind enough to let us live express and be what a gift holy shit look at this you can do anything and once you realize this law of physics you can bend the rules and just exist it the wild twirl pool of infinite imaginative euphoric Holy God existence I use the media to try to fun the artistic fun and reason we’ve come by spreading awareness to fire and potential beautiful outcomes that come when you explore, Live in fun work your ass set some fun and mind fuck up yourself to spread the jelly that makes your soul wobble, till the cake is done baked to spread and exhale on plates full of chaotic creative greatness gargled up potioned special grub or better yet soul food is the term im thinking of, and of and thinking of the sounds I make and expressions I create and paint and craft and poeticize to last your mind the maze it holds inside, listen my sounds, and eclectic poetic with meaning found but mostly the sounds, tunes that fly that fly so high the galaxy doesn't see, cause its so far beyond inside the material we cant perceive cause it don't exist but it does in deed, all is non and non is need all you won is all you bleed, don't be greed be Love and you will see that the tree you become will grow many trunks with fruits that where never before conceived they'll make you trip i swear don't be scared just believe like you do every morning hen you wake up and breathe, were almost there just a few couple of weeks seconds and years well a trillion is all you need cause time doesn't exist so in the end its irrelevant well all be there to celebrate and be ourselves and all relate and make the sounds that make us great just praising found the Love that gave us chance to be the miracle gift God gave if thats not Love then nothing is, but love is my post my crazy rants repeated toasts to greatness found in surrounded floats that stir my eyes an thoughts and boats to be a douche you know I'm not and post my shit i mean a lot because my gift is more then thought its praise of God and expression and jizz of creative thought birthed into dopeness that would have never before existed, eat me, eat my shit, eat my music, and eat my gifts, maybe I'm narcissistic but I'm really not it, I'm just kinda lifted and high on this shit that makes my heart stir words to wonderment eat this cake and eat me too eat my sound keep an eye out with a view for teh new shit too but devour it all its devoured and distilled in baked artistic cake poetically manic seeming improv, which is really just creative run offs with the thing of we call this Life, chocolate eclairs are hidden though, everywhere in my shit and this you know just get through it and read it slow the earnings there it'll open your doors and maybe flare your tickles some more listen to my music my meanings fly past the seasons you passed already by reading this mass that will make you more experienced, enlightened and chaotically funtuntic fantastically confused with jelly beans running loose in your belly butterfly stomach tube where the sudden spark sinks up in abused feelings of Love for God and praising you for being there like two pairs in a 3 theres 1. 1 God many sons, and I’m this son your crazy bruh, golden heart nigga that fly’s. Salo Sion the cat in the cartoon thats not a cartoon but a person in a life on a picture above you makes him a cartoon cause its me and i just tied the three dimensional bloom? No, don’t make sense that last bit flow but kinda did have a bit of a glow I'm mean really what i said was that our perception is only shown though perceptions only shown, I'm a cartoon, like you in a world filled with goons so beautiful it’s true, but their freedoms fucked they're minds, they're evil greed gross abuse sprinkled away the shine that God is when we just loose, but thats just it and teh only way it can be true, to happen like this must learn from the view, our mission is going or choice is you, will you be the cat that chooses to weigh in the good, cause it could be fast we could soar up on the moon, even making lands out of crayons and balloons but you don't want to your stuck in your reality type of gloom cause its safe and the perks are nice because like it is a bloom that blossoms like a fight that fought Love up to make you, cause He knew you'd fuck up, He didn't want you to suffer, but the only way YOU can exist and be eternity is like this so see I'm crazy call me that its my gift, crazy in the dopest ways smoke my joints take my lift, sorry to be a bit too rich in my flourishing postage just trying to spread my Love and have folk listen to my gifts and music I devote to the life that wouldn't exist if music weren't it, I post my shit for fun and in search of fire to find the light that won our chance to exist and reach it’s higher plains of God, souls we are in body's , using out platforms and finding shit that people hide from , finding shit that people posted, posted, posted like this, I post on the media cause its fun to exist express create and one day discover life's magnificent magnificence too heavy for now but this is how we start but heaving up the sparks and talking like free like giving a shit is odd who care what people think just manifest up to the stars and your higher dimensional self through God and only Love and spreadings of nothing more, more can e like this, like this, the posts I piss and prob annoy a bit but I don’t mean it just don;t give a shit and know its dope so theres your gift ignore or it or don’t the lifts i get are delicious. this, the beauty that discovers beauty is the beauty that really hits cause what you never really know, you never really know, but what you never really know will always strike a hit in the part of your heart that it starts the heavens songs when it’s time for Prince to go on I post on media cause I don't give a shit call me crazy ill take it, its not a diss its the biggest fucking compliment to a genius you could give I post on media to spread all the lifts that take me higher posted up in thoughts that wonder if the universe is really thought or is thought just all there is I post nigga, I post cause ima a motherfucking pimp, no one else is cool enough to take there pants off so dandily the bizarre starts to star because the shine is coming in I post shit like this cause Im a star like you and him, and who knows everything every done said thought or did goes out there in the galaxy for everest, like this, S👀 so I can get the views that my heart always sees when I hear the tunes of the crazy I conceive in a world full of infinite possibility, we're meant to tie together beautifully like you never woulda believed till you believe that's how it's meant to be, your given the chance to chose to believe then you use it and it ducking works, we are here arrest we? Here with the media That sucks and the media that's for us to use and try to hold luck up to the views that'll feel the soul of true, here with my media I don't try to abuse it's my canvas and it's fun and I like how it views if you don't like it or you a bum unfollow my shits were never given a fuck to start just give a fuck to fuck Love so hard Love cummed and euphorias Birthday had her came so I’ma just be my cray pot smoking great beautiful souls and self express forever or else I just I wouldn't be myself. I use the media hella yea trying to have my music shared passion is God and passion is rare I don't give a fuck I use the platforms as my tools for expressive artistic amusement stirred by the cocktails that life's actuality has in store, for me for you for us for we, so me I’ma just be me forever fuck off unfollow, your an individual that gets to be free just like me and the proof is in the sea that currents the waves that splash up the sheets of words that verbal my bed or whirled creative eclectic gold, if you’re smart you’ll find the hold in my spaces that hold you in places that make you feel the same the same i felt when tracing around Gods gifts of inspiration and wisdom creatively birthed free out of fucks not given cause cool is free birthed out of minds and souls and hearts in trilogy working together to conceive worlds never believed birthing forever more free energy of the beauty that erases the instantly but forever exists distantly till it overflows the capacity that God is smoking up, never let the Love go to extinction it almost did you fucking racists evil asshole greedy pigs of mankind, be great be loving be beautiful be the angel your soul cakes with the freedom you were gifted over the angels weight, so that mean that YOU are greater then an angel, mankinds potential is greater then angels which means we cannot ever reach beyond God but we can reach God and marry him and live however we want by Love and Love alone and an imagination heaven conceived by the inkling that never had a begining God Life is so damn trippy it never has an ending I wish I could understand God YOU are so God damn crazy, genius beautiful I cant even take it it trips me out too much to go relate it cause i am it but theres more to this were meant to fit and if there is which there is doesn't that mean we shoulda been there by now? Were living infinite but infinite is infinite I guess we haven't won we gotta earn our stripes of Love don't be douche be a God go ahead and give people all there go, benefit of the doubt and then see you'll watch them grow, ALL, help ALL help ME:] Love the Love I Love Love the Love I Spread spread the Love that is God and together we mani-fucking-fest this is how we reach heaven and live forever without an end in such a pleasant way the worlds burdens wont ever be relevant, listen to my tunes brothers, people folks you know you always known I'm the kindest kinda wild sweetest soul your chases out the souls of the minds that are all just here to find, have fun party up, fuck for fun, write a hit, make a song, create something from nothing won the pride your heart construes, so that's why I just push it my mind these finds and this media to my bind so I can bind an infinite bind in a bind forever will shine cause the wisdom is hidden by the manic seaminess of poetic dreamless that takes the curiosity you beam with to bounds further unknown, curiosity is the disposition of creativity, a philosopher ya'll already so I just got to find my soul that shines and yearns to find and figure out ALL the infinite beautiful unimaginable possibilities of #life know like a coloring book with infinite pages to color the words and sounds and songs to skies and then oh my the possibilities tied and we found ourselves inside the insides we were bout out n in all about I only try to spread my Love devotion and the doubts my heart it cries when I see that no ones bout the music that unites my heart my soul and king crown creative bouts cause I'm bout it all the time,I’m bout it see inside I'm bout the feeling fine and what make me feel divine are insights that I find when I'm open and no fuckage ever given Im a G like motherfucker don't gotta jitter when my presence always glitters with devoted and eclectically beautifully creatively chaotically artistically divine Love.

Im crazy I know,

I mean I’m not I'm just creatively fucking dope and loose with my swerve and like to make words and poeticize Life's curves and figure it all out cause i mean were here like that fucking bird who wasn't gifted with a thinking intelligent mouth but his songs they do arouse the melodies of God’s astounding isn't even enough a bound word to describe the unbound so lets live it a found God is great and there is no word to describe his greatness because His greatness is so damn great a word cant exist.

Listen to my music homies, junkies, lovely’s, think you’re cooler then me ones funny, listen to my music and look passed my creative expressive ways I'm just a G that smokes that green more then Snoop Dogg I can say and ill challenge the brother any-day I know ill win cause I'm just so fucking great like this joint just finished and now I'm done with my great beautiful chaotic annoying crazy rant, it ain’t crazy unless its crazy and crazy is like writing some demented list to target people, or talking nonsense, I speak wisdom amongst my creative chaos, my minds a Lilly and I'm a boss, listen to my music I swear its your loss. Don’t be a pussy, Less you are a pussy, I Like those pussys, And those pussys would throbbingly palpitate their mound to my sound, Dope be a pussy be intelligently found, Open the door and look around, you'll find much more when your mind is free and open and patient and tolerant and bound.

Don’t be a pussy, Be a pussy.

Pussys are beautiful when the butterflies are engaging in gasiming sounds of heaving rounds of moaning towns inside cities that don’t exist, but thats everyone and we seem to exist so if you ended up reading this wined up creation of creativeness all its point was and started out and is to be to tell you my Loving brothers, sisters, homies, fine girls that I know but ya’ll to bland show me, call me say wassup or blow me away, but its all good I'm okay cause Im in Love in the strongest holiest Godliest way I swear my music with times will take you away to that place you want to be in that second you are free and cant believe this is happening you’re getting hardcore penetrated fucked orgasming squirting cum cause life is heavy and heavy is deep and I dug a whole to profound to leap, so for someone, for one day, for the cosmos, for Sunday, heres a little poetic entertainment that make make your day or stir your mind in ways you would have never come through sway but you did, you swayed yourself over here and for that I gift you a gift of thank you and I Love you more then I did before,

See I'm just a fucking loon, Loves to get high create art, poetry and explore music mostly cause thats what Life is for music alone music alone.

Go listen to you crazy friends music,

If I have any friends,

I know I do somewhere in you, all of you Love me as much as I do you sorry to be a loon but I cant be anyone else but myself this afternoon, had some fun with some words and a flow that took me swooping to the point that all i really want is for you to be grooving to the reason I and my friends all exist music, the music, life, no im not really crazy I'm just chaotically gifted, don't give a shit and if i may so so fucking genius.

Thank you God for EVERYTHING.

Love you fam for accepting me and existing,

All you fuckers and haters and racists and evil gators, you’ll go to hell so I still Love yo anyway cause Love is all that is, God is Love so Love you must be swolle swell spilling till the point you fell, but fuck you evil fuckers causing havoc on the world, y'all will go to hell and those who are misinformed and don't understand an ignorant, maybe open your door view others perspectives and feel their intentions hearts and what they are for so yo understand and aren't so dumb life is beautiful and meant to be won wake the fuck wake pray to God you are one, listen to this fuckers music swear to God it'll make my done.

Done = Purpose of Live