Categories
art science fiction TV women writing

Sailor Song (Music video)

Marinda Botha and Frankie Beagle collaborate for “Sailor Song”

Sailor Song
The music video Sailor Song was a collaboration between me and musician Frankie Beagle. Sailor Song includes paper cut-out puppetry, one of the many artforms I like to create work with. Even though I co-produced and directed this music video, it took a whole team to create this project and I am so very proud of that.

Marinda Botha
I have been writing poetry since I was a teenager and I dabbled in photography, too. I studied to become an actress, and moved to London where I lived and worked for 8 years before returning to my home country, South Africa. During my drama studies, I was introduced to puppetry and there, I fell in love with the medium. On both continents, I have worked with numerous genres of puppetry, but my first love is for wooden marionettes. Perhaps, as a result, I have found myself in daily life observing people and catching small gestures they do, the way a person flicks a hand, a transfer weight, tilt a head, fascinating to watch.

For the past 20 years or so, I have also been a voice over artist, working with studios in London, while in the UK, and now from my home studio in South Africa. If I had to condense what I am about, what my art, I would say:

  1. I believe in the power of words, in transporting people to other forms of existence and worlds through the use of that age-old artform: storytelling.
  2. I believe that our lives and identities are shaped by the tales we absorb and tell. It is what we come to believe.
  3. I love movement. In another life I want to be a contemporary dancer, say nothing and just move).
  4. I trained as a mime artist in London and still love that form of performance so very much, but everyone hates a mime, right?
  5. I love animation and the delicacy of that medium.
Marinda talks about her upcoming NFT project

I am new to the NFT community but will be launching numerous projects in the next couple of weeks. My spoken word audio art can be found at Foundation and I will be dropping video poetry soon, too. Please follow me on Twitter for updates.

Website: Marinda Botha
LinkedIn: Marinda Botha
Spoken word poetry NFTs: Foundation App
Twitter: Marinda ETH
Udemy: Marinda Botha voice trainer

Sailor Song full credits:
Vocals and guitar – Frankie Beagle. Backing vocals, keyboard and beats – David Driver. Upright bass – Brendan Ou Tim. Saw and percussion by Frankie Beagle. Recorded at The Cooler. Produced and written by Frankie Beagle.

Video credtis:
Puppetry / Director / Producer – Marinda Botha
Co-Producer / Director – Frances Charlton
Director of Photography / Editor – Karien Mulder
Lighting – Damon Berry and Tammy Reid
Cinematography – Nicole Olwagen, Celeste Muller and Karien Mulder
Continuity & Gaffer – Liani Lombaard
Puppeteers – Franqi van Niekerk & Anri Wessels
Make-up – Yowyn du Plooy
Stills – Mark Straw, Nicole Olwagen and Celeste Muller
Concept design – Marinda Botha and Frankie Beagle

Marinda is a voice actor on the feature film, Alien Rescue

Thank you for viewing this post and getting to know this talented artist, whose voice is featured in studio film productions. How exciting it is to meet someone who is dedicated to their craft. Please follow her on Twitter. I have seen sneak peeks of the poetry videos and I have to say that they were stunning. Marinda has agreed to let me feature her work here in future, so please stay tuned.

In next week’s post, we will meet filmmaker, photographer and diversity activist Brissa Marina Page. Stay good until we meet again.

Categories
about me art fiction poetry women

Fantasy Waltz: Midweek Serenade

Happy Wednesday on Thursday, everyone. I am being sneaky here, and presenting you with a musical interlude from my upcoming musical album. The ninth track is still being composed but I wanted to share this one with you.

I have decided to use Vimeo for sharing this album. It’s so quiet over on Vimeo because there are no ads interrupting my flow and messing with my mojo. I never have to worry about some rando screaming at me in every language to give him my life savings.

The video was created on Canva with one of my logo images as the backdrop. Hope you like the joyful feeling you get when listening to this track.

Thank you for listening.

Categories
about me art fiction opinion science fiction technology women writing

The Quarter Percent: Effortless book sales with social audio?

Quarter Percent – Trailer

Can you, as an author, achieve effortless book sales using social audio? Please read this post and learn what I have discovered. But get some popcorn first, because there is drama. 

It has been a year since I published my novel, The Quarter Percent, and if someone had told me to relax because that people would ask to buy it, I would have thrown a tantrum. And yet, since joining social audio nearly eight weeks ago, I have had lots of people tell me they bought my novel. First, in my Clubhouse profile, I mentioned writing my second novel. Then after a number of requests to share a buy link for the first one, I added it to my Twitter bio.

The Quarter Percent, novel by Lily Nicole, cover art
Cara de la Reina

I’m not using social audio to sell books, by the way: the book sales are a side effect of staying active on the platforms. By staying active, I do not mean staring at my phone all day. Instead, I make time for active participation in spaces or rooms on a range of subjects.

Last year, I collaborated with several artists and we produced artwork for The Quarter Percent. We focused on key scenes and events. One of the scenes opens in front of a graffiti mural in the foyer of a refurbished warehouse. Tensions in a friendship, the transfer of power, and a generous gift are overseen by a portrait of King Cordial’s late wife, Queen Cara. The scene, mural, and cover art are called Cara de la Reina or ‘face of the queen’. To write that scene, I did a lot of research into warehouses and architectural design because the description of the interior had an important function. It set up a contrast between the home’s cool, trendy, laid back atmosphere and the next level scheming that would take place there. 

North to South

Based on other research, I knew that a cover with a face was ideal, and I assured my publisher that using the mural art was going to work. A year later, this is my avatar everywhere, and saying so in the first paragraph of my Clubhouse profile has made promotion effortless. When people ask me why I don’t use a selfie, I tell them that I am using social audio for business, and I don’t want to attract the wrong sort of customer. Seeing that I get book sales without doing anything extra, it stays right there.

And now, I will highlight some amusing incidents from last year’s promotional campaign. A book marketer told me he had no idea why I would give away free copies of my novel. He had no idea how that would help with book sales. One colleague suggested that a political assassination to help me get mega downloads. Another said to give up drafting if people did not download the beta version. Later, a young lady clickbaited and free trafficked me to her blog after saying that people would never download the $0.00 promotional Kindle copy without reviews, while agreeing that people would need to read the novel to review it.

A tale in the crypt - storyboard of first scene of last chapter, The Quarter Percent
Ruby Castle’s crypt with a statue of Saint Joan on the left.

On top of that, someone has been earning money from views of my trailer on a dodgy platform. Every marketer I hired to promote the book has denied having merched the trailer. I only found out because the analytics on WordPress finally appeared in February and showed me a cascade of clicks out to my blog. The owners of the platform are not answering emails or taking phone calls so I cannot find out who is doing this.

Amid all of that drama, you will understand why I gave up on promoting my novel altogether. But I am happy that l have stumbled upon an effective way to sell it.

Costmary is talking with her publicist Karen Aoki

Regardless of the obstacles, I enjoyed the creative process from last year, and I will expand on that for my upcoming novel. My first idea was to create art prints and posters. Still researching styles that I want to use, and practising on Procreate. Currently, I am producing instrumental compositions for piano, violin and cello. These will match the mood and themes of the story. My YouTube channel is dry and ashy so I asked a composer friend to help me out. I am hoping to share the music with artists and creators who like listening to music as they work.

About an hour before publishing this post, I talked about the project in a business networking group and I was encouraged by the response. The music will also be my rehabilitation after sacrificing brain cells to ratchet YouTube (for research purposes). 

Happy Wednesday, everyone. Keep creating, and thank you for staying in touch. 

Categories
art artificial intelligence creative writing entrepreneurs fiction opinion People science fiction technology women writing

A reel turnaround

Hello everyone. I am sending happy weekend vibes to you. As you might guess from the title, I’m back on Instagram. Does anyone remember last year how I spent three days on Instagram and then spent another four trying to deactivate my account because they kept burning hashtags and deleting my posts?

On Wednesday, I downloaded the app again and created a fresh new business account. My experience is much more pleasant because I’m not using captions or hashtags. Instead, my method for increasing my engagement has been to make demands and threats. This has worked so far.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I get asked daily why I am not on Instagram, so I created this business account to connect with professionals I meet through social audio.

Recently, I was fortunate enough to make friends with someone who works with Google to train business owners to use Instagram for marketing. Thus, I have a strong incentive to not toss my phone out the window.

Instagram’s smart tech is impressive, something Marvin Stone would have approved of. I’ve only been on there for three days, not scrolling or searching for anything, and it showed me my favourite dish: charcoal grilled eel on sticky rice. The person who posted the image also has his headquarters at Starbucks and like me, he has the same drink every time he goes there. I had better behave or that thing is going to publish all of my secrets.

So in one of the scenes for my upcoming novel, I wrote about a social media application that shows only one post at a time. One of the characters, Mimi Hollingsbrook, is preparing for her work day. Because she works in the Royal Household as Baby Pudding’s nanny, she has agreed to keep a low profile on social media. Against her better judgement, she decides to look at her feed, and notices something in a caption from a famous influencer. She has a meltdown after reading it. Within a few minutes, her response, which is full of expletives, gains 5 million likes. This prompts her to permanently archive her account. In a later scene, Mimi is given a taste of power when a quarter percenter asks her to decide about that influencer’s future.

When writing notes about the social media applications I would be using in the story, I thought about reactions from readers. I was convinced that this feature would never be adopted in the real world. However, at the moment, the trend is to be super minimalist on Instagram, with as few posts as possible. At this rate, if I don’t hurry up and finish drafting, I will be publishing historical fiction.

In further news, I have been sucked into the vortex and I am now managing my social audio apps on two phones. One for Clubhouse, Discord and Twitter, and the other one for Greenroom and Instagram. That’s because one of the apps keeps crashing if I’m in audio spaces on two others. (Don’t ask). Juggling two phones might look cool on TV but I’m an introvert, so it does not feel right.

Why, oh why couldn’t I have found a marketing firm that was good at their job? I could’ve been friendlessly redrafting my new book right now.

Please send prayers. Thank you.

Categories
creative writing fiction technology women writing

Oh, Gloria …

Where seconds before, castanets were rapping their clat-ta-tat-tat, a deafening silence fell on the host of avatars in the room. Friendly banter was interrupted, a question went unanswered, and earphones were unplugged from devices to broadcast the newest tirade over speakers. Someone in Brussels unwrapped a lunch sandwich and listened in.

Gloria was in the room. This morning, she presented with glossy grey locks, which billowed in a nonexistent breeze. Her flawless, peaches-and-cream skin was buffed to a high shine. But that was not why everyone was squinting at their screens. They were accustomed to seeing a dark-haired vixen in a slice of underwear, sat with her knees exactly fifty centimetres apart. (Someone attempted the pose at home.) Today, everything, including her shoulders and most of her neck, was covered.

A stream of pings followed. “Everyone, get in here. Gloria is wearing clothes.”

Master had stopped the castanets mid-clat to croak at the host of avatars, “Reverence! Gloria is having a bad day.”

“And today’s crisis is…?” thought everyone. And they waited to find out. In New York, a spoonful of breakfast cereal was returned to a bowl. “What… exactly?”

A summary was sent in a backchannel. It read, “Dental emergency at the dentist, who has Wi-Fi, so Gloria can be here with us shortly before receiving treatment for the dental emergency, and then stay here with us, in fact, during the entire procedure, so we can be there for her.”

“Surely,” went one dictated response, “the care and feeding of her children comma who materialised out of thin air only last week comma should be the focus of concern question mark.”

After that update, volume buttons were pushed all the way down. But unable to see this, Master squeaked again. “Praise Gloria. Genuflect, you peasant scum!” No-one heard him. The rebellion had started.

Three hours later, Master punished everyone by giving Gloria his proxy. “Host the room for us, will you? For your teeth, dear.” A dubious honour it was, to be the doyen of disenchantment, dueña to disconnected souls.

Categories
about me art entrepreneurs fashion opinion People technology women

Scrum Mastered

Scrum for creative focus

Are your goals clearly defined? Your next step is to collaborate with likeminded individuals. Work with practical, updated information. Record results and refine your process as you go. To master the practice of scrum, recognise when it is necessary to regroup and realign. Then do it.

Screen caps from the desktop version

The first iteration of this installation was a mass of crawling text that broke WordPress. Yay! But after it broke my phone’s browser, I decided to update this post with a collage of screen caps from Reader and the main site.

Glitched text on main page and in Reader.

Thankfully, I had saved the screen caps for the tweet design below, so it was easy to make another pass with the two typography posters. I hope you enjoy them.

It’s art and it is business
Categories
about me art creative writing fashion women writing

Everyone wants the cherry on top but it takes work to get there

Commitment Cupcake

Does anyone remember who said, “Follow your joy”? I think this quote is popular because everyone can imagine feeling happy at the final stage of a project. Recently, I told Caring for Art that my nightmares have become work product. I was not exaggerating. Public speakers will never tell you that you must hard work to find the thing to which you can happily commit. If they told you to face reality, nobody would pay them $50,000 to talk about themselves for 30 minutes.

And because I know that the truth is hard to hear, I feel confident that no-one will copy my secret formula, which I am going to share in this post. This is my recipe for staying committed and focused on the way to finding joy. First read it, then scroll down for a taste test. 

🧁 Commitment Cupcake 🧁

Ingredients
Absolutely everything real about you right now. 

Directions 

  1. Write down every idea you have but stay loosely attached.
  2. Seek advice from qualified experts. 
  3. Listen to advice and evaluate for quality.  
  4. Search for useful ideas in negative feedback.
  5. Be assertive but never argue, no matter what.
  6. Lose fixation on irrelevant details.
  7. Shut down anyone who attempts to devalue you. 
  8. Transfer your idea from a “hard” medium to a “soft” one. 
  9. Follow up on each new idea (see item 1).  
  10. Table, pin, or expunge unworkable ideas. 
  11. Shred your lists.  
  12. Start over. 
  13. Keep at it. 

The taste testCovers only
Item 8 became especially important this week when my plans came to a full stop. And though I was feeling isolated and trapped, I decided to shred everything and start over.  

Contessa Magazine: Cover 2 in Icelandic

One of many ideas I had written down was “launch a magazine”. However, I threw it out because there are billions of writers, millions of magazines, and only a handful of subscribers.

From that, I imagined what it would be like for a young writer to dream of launching a magazine only to hit roadblock after roadblock. How would this writer solve these problems? The answers to that question became the treatment for a writing project. My preferred medium for presenting that story is a “hard” one, so I pinned it for later.

The transfer to a “soft” medium was a frictionless fusion of my interests. After careful research, I did some math: photography + fashion + world cultures + health + making stuff up + graphic design = a concept that I really like.

That is to say, I will only produce the covers. I’ve posted two test copies for you and I hope you like them. 

Contessa Magazine: Cover 1 in English
(Spoiled it, so don’t look too closely)

Categories
Ancient Past creative writing Earth fiction women writing

ˌɪmɔːˈtælɪti dʌŋ mɑːsk

Summary
ˈhɜːkjʊliːz kliːnz ði ɔːˈʤi(ː)ən ˈsteɪblz baɪ fɜːst ˈgɛtɪŋ ˈfɑːməz frɒm ɔːl ˈəʊvə griːs tuː klɪər aʊt ðə kaʊ dʌŋˈɑːftə ˈwɜːkɪŋ ɒn ə fjuː ˈprɒdʌkt aɪˈdɪəz wɪð tuː ˈmɑːkɪtɪŋ kənˈsʌltəntshiː ɪˈvɛnʧəli dɪˈsaɪdz tuː bɜːn daʊn ðə ˈsteɪblz

After the last of the farmers’ carts had left, Heracles summoned Themis to thank her. She had told him what to say to convince every farmer in Greece to use immortal bovine dung to improve soil quality and guarantee bountiful yields, even in times of drought. The best part? The dung was free, as long as they scooped it out of the stables themselves.

Kisshoutennyo, one of Lakshmi’s cousins, was visiting with Themis. She appeared when Heracles said he still had a decade’s worth of dung to clear out. She offered a solution. “Let’s do a night cream called, ‘Kissho Immortality Dung Mask.’”

“Who the $#!+ will use face cream made of $#!+?” asked a bewildered Heracles.

“Everyone,” replied Kisshoutennyo, not quite understanding what the problem was. “Ten minutes of this is going to snatch your face.”

“Are you seeing my office, though?” whined Heracles.

“Relax,” said Kisshoutennyo, “because I will help. But give me a second … Be right back.”

While they waited, Themis suggested mixing extra virgin olive oil (lamp fuel) and immortal bovine colostrum into the dung. These ingredients would prevent the cream from drying out. Two days later, the churning was turning into a new labour, and Heracles was not happy. They were well past the deadline and they had no packaging ready.

“I should have thought of packaging first,” Themis said. Then she got an idea. “Do you realise that we can use this mixture to make soap? No packaging necessary.”

“How?” asked Heracles.

“We have colostrum, which has water; olive oil, which is fat; and dung has lots of salt.”

Heracles’ eyes glazed over. He was, after all, just a guy with muscles who did stuff.

“We need a cauldron and some fire,” continued Themis.

Pointing to an urn containing lamp fuel, Heracles suggested, “Like, why don’t we use that and burn all the $#!+ in here?”

“That works better,” agreed Themis. By now, the noxious gasses in the stables were making her loopy. In spite of this, she put the cows out to pasture, and Heracles set the stables ablaze.

And as they chuckled to themselves, Kisshoutennyo appeared.

“Oooh, you’re done already?” she exclaimed. “You’re so hardworking.”

Themis glowered at her friend, flaring her nostrils. This prompted Heracles to stand between them.

Categories
fiction women writing

Nicodemus et Artemisia

A̴̧̹͑̿͂̾r̷̛̠͕̒̓̊͐͝t̵̤̪̜̗̰̰͎̝͎̤̙̼̾͒̿͜ĕ̸̦͎͔͇̫̜̱̼͎͙́͜m̴̨͚͍̹̣͙̈̋͑̆̂̽̈́̐̚i̴̤͙̼̗͇͈͚̍̎̀ͅṡ̸̛̫̣͍̠͖̠̥͆̄̎̄͘̕̚i̸͇̰̠̓͊̊̍̄̇á̷̻͎͎̗̠͕̳̦̭̀̕ ̷̩̜̗̭̙̜͕̬͙̈́͒͜w̴̛̘͉̞̹͓͍̟̲͇̺͚̫̻̜͛̆̈́͌̂̄̑͑̚ò̴͈̪͔̮̣͔̠͕̈́̾͆̓̀̐̀̆͑k̵̤̘̪̬͚̮̩̹̣̞̹̱̒͆̂̀̎̈́͌̎̆̏͆̽͐͜͠ě̸̡̻͎̰̩̭̬̣̠̞̘̦̉͑͂̂̾͐̀̓̃̇̄͘̚ ̷̛͚͇̩̭̳̣̹͒̈́̓͗̌͆͌̑̽̕f̵̛͓̥̫̥͔͂͆̆r̷̛̭̫̪̤͖͕͈̖̼͇̬̩̬̦͖̀̇̿̋͒̂̉͒ȍ̵̜͙̲͍̣̗͔̂̓̃̂͑͘͝m̴̡̡̡̨̹̗̯͕̬̪̜̹̋͗̎̇̆̅̀̎̃͌̃̽̇̚͜͠ͅ ̷̧͇̹̯̏͆̾͑̀̆̅̅̿̅̅̋͒̚͝͝a̸̢̞͔̣̗̹̟͑̈́́̓̒̓́ͅ ̸̤̩̬̺̟̥̏̀́͋͌͂̇̏̋̃͗͜n̷̜̭̰̭͕̳͓̺̮̼̣͊͛̀̀͋̍͒́́͊̌͆͝ą̶̨̺͉̬̳̗̫̺̘̖̲̗̉͜͜p̸̢̜͎̟̻̼̩̦͎̼̦̙̟̐̋͌̾͆̔̑̌̍͗̐͑̂̂͜͠ ̴̱̳̮̱̭͍͎̈́̈t̸̮̐̃̈́̋́̈́̑͒̈̉͌̚͝o̵̪̦͓̥̪͍̮̠̳̐͐̐̽͋̿͛̄̀̋̓̈́͝ ̴̢̨̜̱̦̏̅͊͋͂s̷̗̞̳͔͇̖͈͓̪͊̅̏͌͒͌ṃ̶̛̣͍̜̭̻̹̃̈́̅̈́͒́̊̾̚̚ȩ̸͇̪̗̤͈͚͖̯̦̈͒̓̒̃̋̽̇̆̒͒̉͘͜l̵̢̡̹͖̝̮͉̙̦͚̼͓̋l̷̛̺̤̗̪͎̼̠͈͇̥̹̲̫͌͌͑̃̌͌̋͑͆̈́̐̽̂̈́̕͘͜ͅ ̸̥̘̮̫̠̥̺͚̩͉̀̏͒̄̇͋̾͑͐̒̓̎͛̑̍͗͘ǫ̵͔͇̖́̔̄̂͘ṛ̵̡̰̻͓̩͑a̸̯̫̩͌͋̓͋͆͂͂͠n̴̡͉̻̤͈͂̃́́͜g̸̢̛̲͙̳̲̟͎̰̫̣̟̏́̀͑̋̌͋́̈́̿̒͗̍̔̌͜͠ẽ̶̛̛̖̣͖̟̀͆ͅ ̶̛̟̯̳̅̏̄͊̎͂́͛̚ǫ̵̫̻̥̭̣͙͓̝̏̔̈́̉̑̐͐͘͜͝͠į̵̢͖̯̲̯̺̦̙͇̉̿̐̑̃̾͌̇͌̏̌͐͝l̵̡̨̡̧͙͚̘̳̩̪͈̗̞̾̍͂̀͆͒̄̅͆̍̎̕͝͠ͅ ̴͍̻̱͖̪͇͔̳̅̀̓͑̂̂̄̏́͗͑͐̆̚̚͝b̴̧̛̖̱͉̣̣̙͗̑͌̋͑̏͂̒̌ú̸̧̨̨̡̞̩̠̟̺̤͇̱͇̪͇͊̅͐̄̌͆̊̀͐͠ͅr̵̛̛͙͙͕̼̰̦̬͙͉̘̮̗͎̱͔̋̃̐̎͒̂̔̈́̍̐̅͘̕͜͝͠ͅn̶̢̘̱̭̝̲̽̌ĩ̶̢̢̻̗͚̮̗̙̓͑̾̀̀̍͆̀͛n̵̢̒̄̇̎́͑̊̆͌͝g̶̫͓̣̾̿͊̇̓̽̚̚͝.̶̢̠̻͕͓̱͖̙̱͉̆̏̔̏̒͛̀̑̈́̚͘͝͠ ̶̮̪̞̗̖̠̇̾̈̃̏̎̂̓͛̕͝͝<br≯̢̢͚̰̦̳̩̤̪̰̻͍̲̀̃͑̂̒͑̕̚̚͝T̴̰̱͌̆̈́͂̅h̵̡͎̪͕̭̭̘̝̘̪̭̲̹̙͚̙͌̀̆͂̅̽̑̐̄̕e̵̩̺͕͇̭͎͑̈́̐̓̀ ̶̠̖̱̰̾́͛͗̀̎̕ą̷̡̢̺͚̠̟͎̠̙̫͇̝̱̓̃̂̌̉͋̔̀͑͐͘͘͜͝r̶̡̨̛͇̠̭͈̻͔͎̜͕̎̊̿͌̑̒̋͒͠͝ȏ̴̫̘̜̳̫̹͆́͘͝ͅm̵̼͉̩̃͘a̷̢̧̖̱̣̮̥͕̥̭̾́͋̅̈́̈́͂̆̇̚͝͝ ̵̡̡̨̫̦͚̘̲̰̭̪͍̰̥̻̀̈́f̸͔̦̞̯̞̰͇̬̗̞̖̽l̵̟͓̟͚̙̹͓͗̋̐̑̈́̾͂́̔̆͋͜͠͝o̴̧͔̗̺̲͇̤͕͎̯̬͍̼̝͒̎̓̔̂̀́̓̈́͊͜a̸̧̨̙̬̬̭̞̪̼͔͙̙͉̞͜͝ţ̸̯̼̖̲̣͆̀͆͌͗̍̿͑͂̀̏̚͝e̸̼̯̹̯̮͂̑̉̅̈́̈́̈́́͆̂͒͂̏d̴̢̡̟̘̯̼̥̳̼̦̱̫͔̲̰̽̆̋̈́̋̿́̋̓̅̄̆̕ͅ ̷̡͍̗̲̝̼̺͎̖͉͖̭̒̓̀͒̽̍̐̉̇̂̕̕͜͜͠ỉ̴͖͈̝͚̺̹̩̞̺̙͍͔͎̗̃̓̄͂̑́̈͆̉̓̽̈́̚ņ̶͚͍̺͙̺̪̿̀̈́͂̉͌̋̔͊̂̔̊̃͜͜͝͝ ̸͕͙͔̬͔̱̏͌̐̊̋̿ã̷̧̡͉̝̳̼̖͔̝͖̼͇̞̤͈̐̓͌̍̍̌͘͠ņ̷͚̘̼̹̥̀̒̀͆d̸͎̳͇͔̹̮̗̐͒̀̊͜͝ ̴̗͉̬̜̙̬̣̲͖̜͍̤͙͔͛̍̿̓́̅̿̑̊̍̅̀͝͠͝p̷̞͉̖̣̩̬̙̺̟̤̝̯̰̣̣̈̌̋̽̋̌̓̀̓͝ȯ̶̢͕̠̟̹͈͓̖̤̩̣͖̹͆͋̔͆̄̇̓̈̽́̽̋̊̈́̓̚͜k̴͍͕͉̥͕̺͈͎͙͕͎̭̹͕̃͒̇̕ͅe̷̛͔̝̜͐̀̎̽̆̕d̶̡̡͕͚̗̦̺̱̝̞̱̔̒̀̐͆̅̇̾́͊͆̈͋̆͜ͅ ̸̨̩̳̩͍̳͎̹̼̤̘̝̪̩̿́͊͐̇̃̒̈́̕͠͝h̸̡̪͔͕̥͓͇̣͕̱̯̤̭͌͂͋̑̍͋̅̈́͐̆̔́͝͠͝e̸̩̺̺͖̩̪̰̩̬̫̥̮̮̅̄̈́̆̓̒̒̾̈́͒͘͠r̸̛̖̙̘̳͎̫͓͍̮̙͎̰̣̈͂̍̽̾̽̅́̔̒̕͠͝ ̷̨̡̘͎̯̱̭̗͖̥̓̽̿̿͒̓̅̈̔͒͂̀̓͝n̴̢̛̙̗̺̦͚̖̣͈̲̦͈͈̓̂́̿̀͘ồ̷̢͚̱͈̠̥̉͌́̓̉̐͘͝͝š̶̨̗̪̫͎̓̇͛́͗̓̚͠t̵̡̘̠̲͎̗͓̼͓́̿̈́̿̾̅̌r̷̡̛̛̖̙̙̫̪̘͇͂̄̆̄̄̉̄̉̾́̈́̔į̶̛̼̉̿͐͛̋̔̄̚͝ĺ̵̜͚̣͈̲̼͈̠̰͚̭̱̝̟̣̃͛̈͐̏̀͌̉̐̇̆́̉͑̃͜͝s̷̢̢̛̺̹̠̰̝̰̤̺̘͍͎̘͕̅̇́̐̀͒͋̉͜͠ ̶̧̛̛̰̠́̂̃͛̓̽̃͒̿̀̔̚ͅt̸̫̣͎̪͍̯͎̻͛̿̉͆̃̐͝͝h̵̡̛̩̣̟̦̬̦̪̱̦̟̲͇͕̹̤͉̑̈́͊͊̈́͛̅̓̐̓̆̀̽̀͘͠ȓ̸̨͉̰̖͔̻̦͙̬̼͕͖͖͓͈̒̐̔͒̍̏͊͐̿́́̂̋̕͜͜͝͝o̷̢̱̠̺̲͓̓̓̽̓͊̇̏ͅū̵͚͎͓̩̀̿̍̽̒̅͐̈́ģ̸͚͈̦̦̺͔̪̱̰̗̖͈̱̭̫͊̈́̀̄̌́͘h̶̨̧͓̋̑͆̋̈͒̇̉͛̈͘ ̷̪͓̼̺̱̮͇͖̓̏́̊̍͑̈́̏͐͐̀̆̀́̍͜͜ţ̵̛̣̪͔̟̲͚̞̩̼͙̥̪̦͆͌͆̀̎̑̕͜͝h̶̞̻̲̬͊̐̂͆̄̑͆̅̓̓͑́͒̂̈́̏͜é̷͍̦̹̝̔̽̄́͜͠ ̵̢̢͈̙̖̳̫̬̭͔̦̜̭̞̜̒͂͆̿̽̋́<br≯̩̯͉̬̤̦̖̰̀̏g̷̫̠̘̲̲̱͓̻̖̊͜a̷̪͆͌̓̎̆̆͛́͂͆͂͌͆̂͠u̴͖̯͓̘̩͆͒̈̈̈́͋̿͛͆z̸͕̮̬̅̈́̊e̵̟̓̓͌̅̽̐̑̓͌͒̓̕ ̶̨̢̛̦̫͕͍̠̠̒͂̈́̃̈͜l̵̨̹̤̖̼͔̟̟̻̪̼̮̙͈͍̗͖̍͋̉̋͋̉͗ȉ̵̛̗͇̟̠̟͖͍̜ṉ̵̻̳̩͂̈͊̓̄i̶͔͖͕̖͎̭̬͚̜̲̰̜̓͒͛́̀͑͜͝ñ̸̾̏̊̀͋͌͗̂͆͛̔͜ģ̷̦͚͖̝͓͖͍̩̫͕̰̝͍̥̑̾̾̉̀̆̽͝ ̶̢͉̜̯̹̻̺̻͙̫̺̇ḫ̶͎̞͕͑̑̒̑ę̵̪̲̩͕͎̥̜̝̻̲̺̊ͅr̵̢̛̪̖̝͍̫̒̄̓̂̔͋̈́͂̎͛́͒͑̾̎͠ ̷̨̧͍̩͍͕͓͙̆h̵̨̨̤̭̻̳͈̞̊̕ͅa̶̛̳̹̭̿͂̓̐̃̿̽͗̋͛͐̏̽ͅm̸̧̛̦̫̪̣̟̞͙̣̬̬̄̾̅̈́̋́̉́̓͆̓͌̐͗m̴̡͔̋̄͜͠o̸̗̣̗̦̫͂͋͆͊̄̈́̈̕c̷̨̝̝̮̠̟̱̩͙͓͓̃̎͐k̷̢̛͚̼͍̗͇̭̠͓͕̟̲͍͋̈́͌̔̈́̇̀̋̈͝.̶̡̨͓̦̓̆͒͗͑̍̄̔̾̿̄̂͘͠͝ ̶̧̜͍͎̝̟̒̋̆̒͂̃̍̈͊̆̿͘͝ͅS̴̥͉̈́̈́̍̍͐ḩ̸̨͇͉̱͙͈̖̖̣͉͉̞̫̱̜̃̈̽̋̿̆͆͂è̷̢̨̧̹͓̙̺̘̟̣̞̬͙̼̫̑̽̀̅̈͗͆̑͝ͅ ̵̡̛̳̹̜̗͉̘̙̥̘͎̳͍̰̆̇̈́̽̽͆͗̾̈́͆͌͛͗̋ͅs̸̨̹̯͎̤͕͈͔̺̥̲͚̃̈̊̑̓́ͅͅp̸̡̝͎͎̤̜̅̀́̓ͅụ̵̢̡͎̥̻̠̥̞̤͖̙̱̠͔̰͂͆̀̓̍̃͑̕̕̕͜n̵̥͚͍̖̂̃̔̈́͌͐̽ ̶̢̢̡̠̣͍̩͍̹̾̆̋̄̍͆͂o̷̢̱̺̦̫̙̞̠̮̼̎͗͜u̷̢̹̼̝͓͔̥̺̽͂̌t̴̩̣͙̙͖̜͚̝͕̭̦̹͚̅̈́̈́̚ ̷̯̘̀́ô̸̝̘͌͛͒̈́͝͠f̶̡̺̜̤̗̻̞̼͛̒̄̀͌͊͝ͅ ̵̛̭̬̼̪̣̥̯̈́̐̈́̏̂̅ȋ̸̡͎̯̑̀̉̒̇͘̚ṫ̶̯̤͉̫̘̹͑̍̎͂̈̚͠ ̷̨̦͎̙̘̜̞͓̄̊̈́̑̔̈́̅̐̒̃̕a̵̧̛͓̬̲͍͚͈̜̩̎͗̾͌̄̈́̿͊̓̈́̿̃̔͝͝n̶̛̘̖̪̲̞̯̮̲̟͎͇̿̓̿͂̅̾̎̿̍͊̈́͝͝͝ͅd̸̛̛̞̯̘̺̘͈̓̂̅̍̒̓̂͂̾̓̋̕͘ ̶̨̞̞̯̳̯̐͌̃͐͐̕w̷̡͓̲̤̤͈̗̲̠̲̔̄̏̇̑́̐͘̕̚ą̸̧̛̥͍͗́͌̊̈́̌̉͒̅̿̚͘͝͝l̶̢̛͕͇̫̝͙͙̙͌̍ķ̶̳̫̹͎͍͎̩̦̯̘̫̥̅͛͗͆̍͋̕͜͠e̶̛͇̼̊͛̓̏͆̋̀̉͗̉̇́͐̚͝ͅd̵̡͚̭̝̰͇̜̞̤͔̘͇̙̃͛ ̴̡͎̪̝͇̲̲͓͈̞͓̝̖̓͆͑̊́̀̂̽͒̚͝t̴̡͓͇͖̳̤͖̞͖̪̘̟͉̰̹̟̣̓̃̓̋͆̒͛͝͝ō̶̧̱̞̙͇̽̏ ̵̘͘t̶̼̲̹̥̤̪̯̽́̎̏̒̅̃̔͆͗̊̏̈́̎̚h̶̛̯͖͇͔̱̞̗͇̠̭͍̬̲̙̩͙̏̔̏͠e̵̯̝̺̹͕̠̭͕̜͒ ̴̮͇̍̃̆̅̎͛͘<br≯̨̮̘̼͈̳̺̼̙̯͈̄̃́̄̂̓͌̋͌̊͛̾̓͊̚̚͝f̷̡̛̛͕̝͚̗̈́̅̈̉̈́̆͒̿̎̕͘ō̵̡̺͚̻̖͓̼̭̝̝͖̣̦̬̞̻̜̾̂̈́͗̿͐͌͆͑̉̾͝͠͝y̵̢̱͚̋̋̀̐͆͐̽̓̃̔͝é̵̢͉̺͇̼̃̽̂͝͝ṙ̷̢̛̝̠̳̙͓̖͚͈̳̲̟̯͍͂̉̑͆͗̑̀̇̈́͘͘͝͝͝,̴̜̖̪͇̣̖͖̖̹͈͂͋̎̐̌̊͐̓̈́̚̕͜͠͝ ̴͙̣̼̟͓͇̦̠̞̦͖̹̠̿́̑̍́̇̏̑́͊͆̕͝ȇ̸̛̖̯̮̜̭͇̘̲̯̤͓x̷̧̟͙͔̟͙͖͛̒̏̿̎͆̏̽͘p̴̛̹̯̠͙̥ę̶̨̧̩͔͓̥̹̳̳͂̈͑̀̽̏̍̈́̄͛̇͘ͅc̸͍̠͍̹͙͖͖̠͚̘̘͕͛̈̆̐̑̋̔̅̈͊̍͂̔̒̈́̕t̷͔̞̠̮͇̆͒̌̐̌̈͂̚̕͠i̷̧̢̛͔̖̠̞͋́̃̀̄̄̄̐͗̕͜͝n̵̤͓̦̝̓͗̀͛̽̔͂̌͌́̚̕͝g̴̨̢̗͚̗͚̲̾͊͊́ ̶̢̢̧̹̪͙͕̪̬̲̗̮̹̬̳̄͛͛̚t̴̠͔͇͇̿ǫ̸̪͕̰̺͇͍̎̄̍̉̃̈́̋̄̀̐̚̚ ̵͕̙̍̋ͅf̶̹͎̏i̶̲͋͂̿̿͑͆̓̍͝n̷̨̢͓̘͇̟̼̲̹̙͈̹̺͎̍͒̓̉̊̎͒̒̽̀̓̇͆͂̕͜͜͠ͅd̶̨̹̪͍͎̣̯̫͓̐͑̅̓̔̌̈́̏̃̚͝ ̶͍͍͎̮̻͇̘͖̺̎͆̇̅ͅả̸̡͇̞̝͎̗̳̦̯̮̻͙̱̙̙͖͜ ̸̢̮̺̳̹͓͎̣̭͎̰̗̥̈̆̌̈͗̈́͊̈́̓̄̾̈̓͛̒͜͠͝ͅͅp̶̭͕̟̱̗̥̖̪̌̄̌̒̂͐̀͒͝͠u̶̧̡͉̖̻͙͈̯̺̼̣̱̘͂́̒̀̑̆͜͜͜͝ͅp̴̢̡͖̫̙͉̲̭̥͚̘̮̭͉̓̎̾i̶̦̿̀͒̽̔̽̐̎̾̆̀l̴̝̥͓͎̠̎̏̍͒̒͒̂͆͝͠͝ ̵̱̗̜̣̈́̋̒̌̄͆̅f̷̥͔̭͕̣͈̼̰̈́̑̾̇̅̚ṙ̸̛͙̻͇̆̽͊̏̀̈͛͝o̴̧̮̲̭̼̮̟̰̯̪̜͋m̴̡̙̩̪͚̳̞̣͒̍̅͂̋͝ ̴̧̹͕̬͚̝̖͈̹̀̑͒͊h̷̢̛͎̻̙͖̖͍̙̮̤̪̪̮͒͋̕̕ͅe̷̯̰̖͉̊̄͆̓̅̍̋͋̀͊́́͘͜͝ŗ̴̨̛̛͇̯̤̱̙̊̽́̂̈͌͆̇̓́̅ ̸̧͇̖̞͙̫̬̗̺̙͖̰̇̃̅̋͗̒͐̚̕̕͝ả̶̧̧̹̫͍̞͉̫͈̪͖̳̼̫͍̳̯͒̽̈́͂͊̌̆̅̂̀͝͝r̴̡̡̖̩̠̼̗̩͚̰̤̘̬̐̈́͐̇̎͂̈́̐͋͝͝ç̶̳̉̈̒͗͊͗͒̾͑̚h̶̢̧̘̯͓̯̩̪̮̭̗͎͖̉̇̅͘e̶̮̜͂͊̅͗̇̓̔͐̑̍͜͠͝͠ͅr̴̢̫͈̜̬͍̖̜͙̤͓̫̬̣͊̀̊̑̋͆͌͐̕͘y̵̧̮̣͇̝̫̹͔̪͇̗̮̙̔̋͜ͅ ̸̡̯̹̺͉̭̱̝̪̜̣͖̭̌̈́̄́͆͛̿̑̌̿̇̄̉̚͠͝͝s̴͙̹͇̜̠͖̠̻̖͈͉͓̦͓̤̊̅c̸̢͖̤̤͉̜̹͈̩͖̈̆͐̆̅͆͛͆̅͗̕͝h̸̦̣̺̰̱̠̫̖̒͐͛̂̌̈̂͗͠o̴̠̫̻̙̖͑̉̆́̓̒̋͋͆̏̚͘͝͝ǫ̸̰̻̾͛̿́͐̽l̸̮̦̥̺̦̩̙̯̃̍͌́͜ͅ.̸̢̡̛͚̠͙̲͓͖͙̟̤̞͇̼̹́͐̍̈́̎́͋͝͝ ̷̞͍̪̼̹̇̍̂̉̐̿̒̍̓̌̍̐͆̉̎͂̒
̷̨̼̦̯̥̺̠̠̮̹̃̓̊̃̊̏̅͌̋̏̅̌̏̔́̕Ą̴̥̳̼͈͓̻̮̦̞̝̠͎̋̅͜͝ ̴̡͚̖̗̙͔̂̉̔̆m̷̧̢̡͎̤̻̓̅͂͒̉̽̿̈̏̕͝a̵̡̡̲̪̮̻̱̮̦͎̥͇͇͈̅ņ̵̦̜͇̗̞̝̹̙͆͑͑͊́̽̈́̔͗͘̕ ̴̨̗͉̞̮̩̓̿̔ẇ̵̧̧̨͇̳̪̦̞͙̗͍̲͚̝̘̲͗́̕a̵̢̢͙̟̦̩̲̳͎̱̲̯̭̝͊̒̅͆̈́͂̄̽͋͒̃͛̚͜ş̵̧̧͈͖͕̗̰̪̹̞͐͂̓͆͌̌̔̽̍̈́̓̌̀̚̕͝͝ ̴̢̠̼̯̪̲̺͆͒̇̽̌̀̋̍̇̃̅̈́͝͠ͅp̵̖̰̞̞̥̘͙͚̹͔͈͉̝̙̺̞͛̌̐̉̎͆̈́͑̈́̓̎̅̂͆̓̚͝ͅr̸̡̡̛͖̭̺͉̫̤̪̗̿͋̈́͗̌̈́̉̍͊̚̕͜͝a̵̢̡̧̨̛̳̜͎̫̣̠̼͔̣͚̯̝̒̿͑͗̾̍͐̽̆̊̒̊̎͊̓͝ŷ̷̛̯̯̟̱́̾͆̂̎͋̀̕͝͠ͅi̷̢͕̩̜̮͎͕̔̈́͋̓̐̍̔͗͘ͅn̵̨͙̻̱̼̱̥͔͉̆̎̏͆̆͋͠g̴̪̠͖̣͇̜͕͎̘͌͗̇̊̏͆ ̴̧̢̧̟̖̱̝͍̲̻̼̠̼͔͇͊̈̈́͒͋̏͋͜t̸̡̢̠̖̤̫̮̱͉͔̖̖͎͚͆͌̀͗́͒͒̋͌̑̄͌͑̕͝͝ͅͅȟ̷̝̻̯̒̄͛̔́̊̌̈́̌͠ȇ̵̢̧͕̩̖̝̬̪̰̩̜̲̤̇̈́̓̒r̷̛͈͉͉̭̱̙͚̤̻͇͆͆̄̈̅̽͌͊̽̚͜ẽ̸̢͉̣̠̝̘̗̬͙̦̝̺̥̙̓̏̅͛.̷̪̺̰̟̻̼̜̌ ̷̢͉͖͈̹͈̱̹͙͎̬̝̿̓̐̌̇̃͛̄͆̉̚͘͝͝“̸̢̝̲̥̮̦̞͎̩̞̪̜̣͗͘D̸̲̠͓͍̻̲̦͙̼̖̼̪͖̱͆͒̈́̉̔̀̾͆͆͗̐̄i̸͕͐̍̓͑̓̔͗̋v̵͓̓i̷̡̡̛̪͎̳͉̤̜̦̻͓̠̞͍̜̳͆̃̐̂̒̚ͅǹ̸̨̦̜̫̜̗̻̘́̎̑̏̈̐̄͆̆̑̇͛̀̐̔e̷̡̨͚̯͔̻̫̮̹̫̯̖̠̞̙̥̼͆̃̊͘ ̷̮̭̣̗͈̲̱̅̎̈́̑͊̂̋͐̌̀̐͋͑̽̍͌͠Ȁ̸̡̡̨̨͖̪̲̙̯r̶̡̡͖͈̲͓̯͓̼͍̺͎͔̍́̈͒̄̂̂̇ṯ̵͙͑é̷̟̜̠̝̰̝̳̻͑͂͗̃̃̃̚͜ḿ̶͙̭̲̺͐́̀͛̚ͅĩ̷̖̲̱͊̃s̸͎̳̞̠̈̋̓̉̃͗̄̌̎̋̕͠,̷̨̧̹̬̥͎̺̩̝̪̦̩͛̎̀̈́̓͊̂͑̉̀”̷̧͓͙̲̦̖̼͓̗͂͛̅͠ ̷͚̺̥̑̽̈́̋̈̇͝ḧ̶̰̻̬͓́͋͐̊̍̃͑͛ͅe̸̮̪͉͓̲̮̦͙̭̘̽͊̔̃̿ͅ ̴̱̍̃̌̌͊̀̐̌̌̚͘͝͠͠ḿ̷̢̢͓̦͎͖̟͎͔͚͇̫̙̤͉̆̿͌͛̅̃̎͂͠͝ǘ̶̳̪̥̦̰̹͍̩̻̙̫̹͙̃̆̏̏̍t̴̫͙͇̗͈̩̮̯̱̻͑ṱ̷̲̌̊͋̐̀̔͘͝͝e̷͔̱̬͍̠̝̤̓͛͆̿͜͠ŕ̸͕̺̫͙̙͈̘͔̜͙͎̬̠̘̼̝̈́̑̾͌͊͒́̒͝͝ê̶̗̯̝̱̹̻͉̱̞̻̙̻̝̿̍͒̑͗͂̕͝ͅd̵̢̧̡̘̬̲̗̲̥͓͕̭̳̝̩̩̤͋̐̑̐̋̊̅̇͝,̵̛͎͕̩̼̤̙͈̳͎͍̹̝͖̗͉͖͒̐ͅ ̵̩̑͋̿̓̉͌́͑̀̀̇̎̊͘͝͝“̶̢̧̧̪̥͙͍͍͉̩̩̆̽̋͐̂͛̆̌͛̚͝͝I̷̡͚̹̣͈̦͖̣̓ͅ ̸̧̛͖̩̮͔̳̻̂̓̿̒̀̆͒̐̑̀̈́ͅẁ̸̨̧͍̫̼̘̬̹̖̬̫̦̣͖͙̽͊̈̓́̾͛̈́́̉a̵̢̫̱̤̘̹̞̟̫̬̱̙͋̂̅̑̈́̔̊̀̅̂͌̌̾̑̚̕͜n̸̨͕̲͚͉̖͇̮̄̔͌̇̒̉͠ͅt̴͎̗̭̼̃̅̑̅̈́̇͛̈́͋̄̆̉̇̌͠ ̴̢̻͇̪̼̯̹͇͚̩̜͚̫͔̬̮̄̃̀̋͐͌͒̈̓̕…̷̖̦̪͐̐̊̈́͌̒͑̌̑̂̄̆̚͝͝ ̴̨̩͙̣̬̘̝́̏̐̌̊̄̊̃̏̋̂̕ṭ̵̫͖͎͕̹̪͎̻̾̓̀͑̅̇̾̆͘͘̚͘͝͝o̴̞̮̞̾͑͛͒̑̽͒̍̽͐́́̐̕͜͠͝ ̴̠́́̀̾̃̋̓͗̾̚̕͝ͅḇ̵̟̻͋̾͗͛̿͐̚͝e̶̟͖͓̖̬̳̥̞̺̱̱̤̝̗̝̦͛͌̽͆̏̊͗̃̍̏͝ ̶̢̛̬͍͙͈̟̌̄̎̃̇̃̒̌̑̆̉͗…̴̛̳̼̮̳̰̱̙̤͉̳̯̫̓͗̈́̎͌̕ ̷͓̣͓̦̰̋̇̅̓̌̐̍̅̔̈ã̸̢͉͔͉̤̩̟͔̳͔̀̂̊̑̌̒̔̆͠͝ ̷̨̣̝̪͕͔̬̻̣̪̬͚͍̯̲̂͋͆m̶̨̛̜͚̩̺̝͙͎͉͛͐́͆͌̿̈́̀͘a̶̡̢̙̝̹͓̥̪̬̳̔͂̆̔̈́̃͘͜s̵̨̗̺̦̗̰̦͇̱̟͉̹̰͔͔̄̔̒̽̍͜͠t̵̨̡̘̤͈̯̫̠̣̙̭̰̲͖̉̆̃́͊͋̎́̒̐̈́̚͝͠ȩ̷̛̖͐̀͝ͅr̶̛̳̜̤͙̝̪̬̞̊͐̓̐́̉̈́̔̕͝ ̷̡͍̘̠̬̠̜̜̻́̏̐̿̐̃̈̓̾͆̋́͊̇̈t̴͓̥̪̪̰͕̘̗̹̣̓͂̑̌̇͊̈̓͋͆̀͊̐h̶̘̎̋̕í̵̭̮̩͉̊̈́̎͂̓̓́́͜e̵̢̛̳̱̰͇͎͚̞͉͌̏̐̏̄̒̕͘͠͝f̸̢̣͔̯̳͙̤̮͎̫̊̋!̶̡̛̪̑̓̄̒̊̄͊͗̂̅̉̽̿͝͝͝”̴̢̧͈͔͙̗͎̖̩̲̩̀́ ̶̲͔̩̤̦̼̈́͛̏̈́̐̓̐̌͌̉̋͘͠Ț̷̫͇͇̰͍̣̲̳̥̭͙̩̖͇̰̮͋̈́͋́̆h̶̨̧̡̪̤͎͎͔͎̻̭̘̦͈͌̓̎̌̍̈̑́̃̄̍̇̿͘͠ͅę̶̭̯̭͚̲̈͒́̋̐̐̾͋̋͘̕͠ ̴̛̮̖͉̩̮͚͈͙̲̺͗̀͛̅̏̉̾̈́̈́̀̍̕͘͜͜͝m̶̭̣̽͂͊́́ä̴͓́ṋ̸̢̮̘̪͔͂͗̽̐̊͌̓͘͝ ̵̡̛̜͚͎̜̯̻͓͍͔̱̣͍̜̩̤̤́̀͊̉̄̃̈́́͐̄̈̚l̷͚͚̗͉̗̫̱͕̲̲̭͐ö̷̢̠̫̪̳̝̘̝̞͕͎̲͓́̐̽͆́̓͑͠õ̶̭̯̙̎͑͒̂͆͂̿k̸̻̭̠̬̱̫̥͓͇̠͔̰͓̪̃͋̓ě̷̢̘̰̥̗̯̥̪̝̪̣̰̃̈̋̄̽͑͂͆͜͝d̵̡̞͇̭͈̯̰͖͕͌͒̏͌̀̀̈́̌̕ ̶̰̔̀̍̔͋̀͠͝a̴̧̫͇̤̩̠̥̩̱̱͍̹͓̦͊̈́̃̿̎̀̽́͆̑̈́̕͝͝ŗ̵̢̨̛̺͚̥̘̭̩̻͙̣̗͖̰̠͛̆̾͒̓̂̊̐͌͋́ͅŏ̷̧̭̯͓̲̝̹̝͍̪͚̱̳̼̀̏̂͐̀̏̍͐̽͑̈́̀ͅǘ̸̮̜͍̜̟͙͋̾n̸̡̩̗͉̬̩͔̥̤̼̠̤̎͌͌͗̎ͅͅͅd̸̡̢̬͇̰̫͙͚͆̎̃͐̓̎͐̔͐͂̕̕͘͠͝ ̶̡̙̳̱̮̭͕̤̞͖͎͓̬̮͌̔̀̅ͅi̶̡̼̺̪͎̫͝͝ṋ̵͇͕̗͔̺͉̦̦̙͒͒̋̏͊̓̔͌̃͑́̎̓̚̕͝ͅ ̴̢͙̙̖̱̬͍̞̜͔̘̩̱̥͔̺̟̀́̔̍̄͑̈̍s̷̢̱͇̘͚̰̖̦̫̙͎͊͊̊͋̈̈̌͒͘͜͠û̸̫̤̱̪̻̗͋̈̅̈́̈́̃͋̓́̆̓́̑̃͘͝ŗ̴̠̦͇̘̜͈̳̗̱̰̦̟͔̝̼͆͊̒̾̂̂̉̒͊̕͘̕ͅp̸̧̡̹̻͈̺̜͈̳̙͎͖̪̘̖̆̌͌͊͒͌̇̄r̵̢̨̫̞̹͙̦͇̹͔͓̫̥̞̱̝̽̓̋̄͑͂͊̃͜͝i̷̛̹͇̻̥͙͍͙̔s̵̰͔͈͕̗̾̽̋̀͗͌̆̑̊͂̏͌̅̚͝e̵̢̧̡̛͖͕̣̬͐ ̵̲̰̟̔̄̒͌̀͂̓͒́͌̐̓͑͛͘̚a̷̛͉͎͚̟̣̠͆̀̔̐̓͛̔̈́͘s̵̥̰͉̳͔̭̣̘͗̆̄͐́̎͆̂̐̇͑̐̀̋̒̒͝ ̶̹̲̻͈̝̳͓̆̒̍͊̓̂̃̓̓͘͝ȧ̴̮͚̦̲̂̄̈́͒̃͑̂͂̓̈͘͠ͅ ̴̰̓̌̊̐̂̀̄̐͘m̷̟͕̠̒̇̍͐̃̋͗̚ę̵͙͖̘̞̭̙̹͕̎̽͂̊̌l̴̥̣̪̯̯̩̙̋̿̀̔͋̀͘̕o̶̢̠̠̟̥̘͔͉̹̠̲̻͙̅́̎̏̄́̅̓́̾̓́̓̽̈́̚̕d̶͖͉̬͎̂̄̈͊i̶͚͖̮͎̩͈̊̇̂͂̓͌͝͠ͅc̵̲̝͚̭͚̗͍̘̲͈̥̄̀̒͝ͅ ̵̤̤͇͇̠͉̥̞͖͍̠͚̃̑̀̍͌̃̉͛̈́̓̍͑̌͘͠͝͝v̸̧̮̟̝͚̺̘̣̔͗̎̑̔̃͛͜ͅö̶̧̮̙͉̻͚̖͎͈̱͇͕̮̦́̍̋̄́̊̉̉̀̍͐̄̆̆̎̀͜͜͝ͅḭ̵̳̰̖͔̙͈̪͓̺̟̗̊̌̐̏̑̂͂̇̈́̔̊̔͊̽̚̕͜c̶̡̤̬̱̲̦̤̠̯̱̟̙̘͔͓͗̈́̅̿́̆̓̍̾ȩ̸̗͓̭̝̮̝̯̙̈̃͑̋̔̎̃̓̏͒͆̕ ̵̮͓͕̔̈́̂̒̋͋̈̍͒́̾͒̈́̂͘͠͠ë̷̛̛͈̘͍̙̰̪̣̱͈̮́̑͋̅̀̍̏͑̾̔̓̇̚c̵̞͍̼̎́̓h̵̢̼̩͙̭̺̣͓̭̰̘̩̿̂̈́́̉̍́͘͝ͅͅo̷̡͍̅̃̒̊͌̉͛ȩ̴͔̙̝̼̟̳̦͈̭̦̪̘̊͂̇ḓ̶̛̫̳͈̟̼͓̃̊̔.̶͕̟̳̹̰͎̰̃̏͐̉̅̏<br≯̹̊“̶̢͖͖̰͕̣̲̟͓̙̳̺̩̀̃͂͛̊͐̌̈́͛͋̇́̚̕͝͝Ÿ̶̛͉͉́̓͊̉̓̆õ̴̜͓̤̥̘̠̗̦͔̟̤̬̲̥̊̉̅̓̀͝ͅừ̴͇̲̹̹̜͓̍͆̍͆͆͌͐̓̑́̈́͜’̶̡̢̦̝͙̩̫̣͛͜r̷͙͔̜͇̞̤̬͈̼̻͓͉͚̆̀̀͗̉̋̎é̶̠̣̞̈́͌̐̔̒̓́̄ ̴̜͝n̵̢̧̨̧̞͕͇̻͙̝̺̝͎͚̝̭̱͂͘o̶̡̨̧͈̲̲͉̺̞̳̱̙͉̗͓̬̿̓͋͗̍̿͆͑̾̓͋̓̅̆͘͝t̷͉̓̆̃̑̀͝ ̵̯͓͍̜͇͗̅͋̍̽a̶̳͗́̐͒̅̄̌̂̍͊̀̕͠͠s̷̲͉̫̟̘̘̮̎̇͂͊̀̍̊ķ̶̢̤̯͈̫̟̘͎͐̏͆̈̈̽̎͑͋̚͘͜͜͝i̶̧͈̬͕̬͓̦̪̟̤̹͉̹̲̊̅́̿͒n̷̦̭̻̟͔̗̖͎͖̪̂̿̐̑͋̑̋̌̐̉̃͊̑̅̍̓̈́ģ̶̛͉̙̮̩̹̤͓̼̳̯͕̜͎͒̊̈́̑̈́̈́̔̽̽̄̾͊͘ ̴̢̧̛̛̛̻̩̥̯̲̪͚̯͍̜̭̳̼͛̇̒̓̓͒̌͘͜f̶̙̥̳͖̼̗͛̈́͂̆̄͆̂̒̕̚ͅŏ̶̹͕̪ŕ̶̡̨̦̺̬̤̻̪̻̻̯̦̥̌̇͜͝ ̷̬͈̜̤͕̥̂̂̀͆̈̾ṗ̸̢̭̭̩̮̣̺̖̣̬͉͐̾ͅȍ̵͚͐͘ẁ̵̨̹̞̜̤̞͍̼̰͔̣͎̳̯͍̝̗͒͊̽͊̈́̓̊̽͛̓̄̑̾͒̽e̸̡̢̢̧̫͕̠̬̺̻̺̍͛̈̈́̀́̚͠͠͝r̸̤̪͖͙͔͖̹̙͕͔̲̭͍͕̀̔̀͛̿ ̸̛̩̭̣̱̉̉͑̚͝a̴̢̡̧̹̜̩͉̩̺͚͉͚̓̌̅̋̀̒̾̇̃͜ņ̷̹͈̩̻͙͓͍̲̳͇̊̈́̐̉͛̉̅͌͐͑̎̄͋͛d̶͓̞̃̇̽̾̏͌̃̂̀̿̽̔͛ ̵̻̦͇̙͖̭͖̙̞̆̅͐͐̀ͅp̶̡̠̞̬̯̘̪͖͚͇̲͙̦̪̂͑̈́͐̎͗̈́̉̿͗̊̏̅͘ŗ̵̨̢͔͎̭̤͎͈̗̖̮͔̰͗̇̂̆̐̌̏͊̊͛̆̄͘͠í̵̢̪̬͓̻̞̞͆̓̎̀̍̕͘͜v̵̛̺̤͇͛̾̃̓̋̔̂͒̀͝į̷͓̮̗̥͉͇̦̫̒͝ļ̶̼̟͓̖̩̙͈̖̟̩̭͈̜̼̀͂̔̓̽͌̃̅͒̆͂͗̈́̕e̴̪͖̍̒͛ḡ̶̛̖̻̲́͛̾͋̈̍͑͒̇͝ͅe̸̢͚̟̩͓͕͚̯͖͎̤̬̓̽͌͂͜?̸̡̖̪̺̙̳̤̄̑̎̀͂͊̌̿̑̈́́̅̚͝”̵̝̼̗̥̾̇ ̷̮̤̱̟̙̮̠̹̱̗͋a̸̢̯̬͈͍̟̬̫͕̰̠̱̋͗̇̿̈̀͘ś̸̢̧̤̹̝̞̥͍̗͖̦̯̦̰̱̲k̶̨̧̨̛̞͉̺̰̣̦͈̩̹̖̈͂̍͑̎̐́͝e̵̡̮̔͐d̶̟͓̞̒̇̃͊͋̅͋̌̒͐͘͘͠͝ ̶̱̑̈́̈́͑̿̄͑̈͆͌͌̊̚t̴̫̟̘̆̋̃̌͂͒͛̒̎̌͗̐̐͘h̷̨̛̜̖͚̟̳̙̮̘̱͉͈̭̾̌̓̄̑̇̋̆̑̕͘͝e̴̬̟̟̫̤͌̎͐͋́̕̕ͅ ̷̡͚̩̦̳͇̳̣̭̥͐̒͌͠v̸̡̘͖́ͅǫ̶̢͓̟̓̌̃̈́̈́͋͜i̵̥̝̘̻̐͒͂̈́͋̒̈́̈̐̑̚̚̚͘͠c̶̡̫͍̤̜͎̣̼̬̙̞͉̠̎̆͠ę̸̰̬͔͛̓̎̕.̶̨͚̤̩̺̻͖̫͓́̾̉͗͆̈̉̅̋̃́̅̂͑̕ ̴̛̫̺̟͕͇͆͆̋̇̾̈́͗́̐͋̈̐̐̓͠<br≯̡̻̜̮̺̖͈̍͗̔̔͂͒̓́͐̈́̐̚̕̕T̷̡̨̛̮̺̪̺̖͎̙̱̬͇͇̭̫͚̪̏̍̿͐͑̓̃̅̈́̀̏͛̚̚ḣ̷͖͎̺̂̄͂̇̊́̽͆̇͆̀͌͗̕̚͝ę̵̥͖͌̌̋ ̷̧̡͔͉̳̩̻͈͑̾̍̆̃͛̎̎̀ģ̶̩͉̞̘͎̑̊͗̉̎̿̃̚͘ͅo̶̘͆͂͊͒̑̒̅͑̏̏̓͊͗̋͝d̷̛̛̩͖̜̺̝͔̭̆̊̌̀̈́̅̈́̕d̴̯̼͖̥͉͇͚̲̥̟̘̄ͅe̸͕͚̱͙̟̫͌̌̈́̈́͛͛͊̓̓͗̂͘͘s̶͕̣͔͍̻̞̰̱̪̱̀̌̽̌̀̋̇̌͝s̷̭̗͍̼̩̥͚̘͇̓̐̅̚ ̵̦̲̥̙͔̼̫̤͕̲̣̥̲͎͂̉͒͋h̶͔̟̍̏̃̇̍̏͌̀͑̔̚͝͠ė̸̢̛̲̯̻̭̥̺̬͖͍̹̖̥̩͈͑̓͠ȑ̵̢̛̦̰̺̙͕̹͍̘͔͎͎̀͑́̉̾̏̈̽̉͝͠͠s̴̛̙̜̘̺̞͚̻̩̙̣̩̠̺̱̈̍̆̅́͗́̕̕͘͜ę̵̛̮̰̭̑̌̄͑͒́͂̂̈́̋͊̄̓͝l̷̡̫͉̩̖͉̩̦̪̰̍͛̿̉͆́̕͝f̸̡̲͎̜̖͙̰̜͖̓͛̐͐͌̂͆̉̈́̆͒ ̸̙̘̹̬̜̥͔̞̄̈́̒̀̒̉͊̇͛͆w̴͚̤̹̜̟̮͈̦̙͓͖̝̗̞̹͌à̷̡̛̭̪̬̞͖̺̜̮̘̬͇̼̊̅̏̇̆̌̂͗̿̆͒̋͝͠͠s̵̗̺͇̲̜̍̇̈̓̎͋́̋̚͝ ̶̧̡̛̱͕͇̯͖̭̼̮͉̬͈͉̠̦̈͐̀̀̽͛̒̍͗̓̉̏͜͝ǐ̸̧̡͈̩̻͕̯̯̦̮͔̎́̑̕͜͝͠n̸̢̛͖̤͖͓̪̞̹͔̫͒́͌̃̅̈͋̀̈́́̑̑̓̚̕͝ͅţ̶̤̰̭̽̓͑̔̏̐ę̸̛̞͉͎̜̘͍̗̩̲͇͍͂̄̿̈́́̏̑͘͠r̴̛͚̠͓̰͎͋̄̊̃̃̄̍̉̕r̵͖̤̭͕̫̮̺̹̱̺̓̂͂̓̚ù̵̞͕̠̙̹̿͛̌̈̿͘p̶̨̼̙̗͉̤͈̺̹̼͇͕͔̭͗͊̌ͅͅt̷̨̧̲͇̻͇̬̜̭̙̲͉̗̫͎̥̊́̌̇̀̆͗͊̓̑̈́͠ͅḭ̷̡̥̻̪͇̱̞̣̼̂̓͆̿̉͠n̷̛̫͕̞͎̣͖̼͉̽͋̍̐̐̔̓̽͋̔̐͆̄̉͝g̷̡̢̨̡̣͓͎̳̣͉̩͕͕͖͇͈̫̔̐͒͛̅́͂̋̏̔̈́̾̋͑ ̴̨̳̠̝͉͗̈͋͗̋̃͒̚͠ͅh̷̳̤̼̞̙̽̋̑̈̀̋̆́̐̑̏͑̅̚͘ĩ̸̧͈͈̪͎͈̘̞͕̃͝m̸͇̤̘͈̠͖͕̺͎͍̂͑̆̓́̋̀͛͛̎̌̓͂̕͝͝.̴̧̪͕͉̙͇͇̻̫̥̥̙̦̥͔͎̓̊̇͛̇͑́̋͘<br≯͙̠̠͂̾̑̈́́͂̿̏͋ͅ“̵͔̮̙̞̫̭͊N̵̨̿̓͗ơ̵͙̯̼̯̤͚̣͕̦͍̌̆̌͌̇͂͊̽̍͒͂,̶̻̱̯͓͚͙̠̏͌̑͌̐̈́͛̃̽̈̆͊͌̈͝”̵̛̙͛̔͑̅̌͂̏̌͋̃̓͑̚͝ ̴͔̪̃̐̇̐ȑ̵̗̦̥͓͎̣̹͈͉͖̿̈́̎͜͜e̵̻̻̭͛̐̽̑͂͒̆͜p̷̮͉̹͇̭͊͋̓̎̃̂̒́̈̀͐̂͛̌͘̕ļ̴̝̮̞̰͈̥͖͈̰̺̻̣͆̌̀̐͋̅͊̄̔̽̀̽̽͠ͅį̵̫͈̻͍̻̥̈́̂̇̊̓̍͗̏͌͛͜ͅę̸̲͖̘̻̟̦͉͙͙͓͉͉̤͆̋́̈́̀̽̈́̽̾͗̉̋̌̑͗͜͠͝d̴̩̯̪͇̓͝ ̷̮͚̥̰̺̘̈́̑̃̒̊̈́͜͝t̷̹̥͉̣̀h̸̘̟̗͖͔͈͑̑̎̔̔́̓͒̒̉͑͂͐́̔̈́ê̵̢̛̛̖̪̬̖̥̱̼̻͉̹͎̼͗͗̀̑ ̴̨̡̡̦͔̬̳̓̿̾̈́̍̔ḿ̷͓͉̩̌̌̾ą̷̦̬̤͕̩̲͈͓͉̆̂́̈́̿̆̕̕͝ņ̷̡̧̻̹͖̫͖͓̭̭̺̺͔̤͓̻̾̃̽̅͠.̵̢̧̙̫̘̫͕͚̜̬̗͖̮̠̬͚͔͑̈ ̶̝͎̦̟̈́̊̈̊̑̓̽͐̄̌̍͠͝“̴̨̧̛͇͕̭̯̬̞͇͆̆͌̅͋̈͐̔̅̎̎̎͑̔̿I̶̢̠̲̲̗͎͇̟͕̻̘̪̹̼͛͛̄̍͂͑̃̚͝͠͝ ̵̛͙̪͇̎͊̈́͘ẃ̶̨͕͔̤̭̞̺̠͙̠̘̟̘̱͒̎̉ȧ̴̢̧̛̙̝͈͚̞̥̯̰̭͕͐̉̂̏̊̽̾̀͊̈́̒̄̚͝ͅņ̸͉͖̻̣̝̱͉̀͌̌̇͊̊̇̔͂̊͗́̋̓͊t̶̡̨̡̜̦͕̜̼̯̱̳̻̗̂͝͝ ̸̧͚̭̟̫͖̳̙̮̣͕͉̯̬̣̈́̐͛̊͗̕ͅr̸̡̡̢̬̥̟̯͎̳͈̯̹̳̩̦͌̽̽̃͒̒ͅę̷̬͖̰̲͇̟͓̞͕͙̔͛̑̐̔̐͠s̴̨̧̧̺̭̖̳̙̞͖̠̜̭͉̝̤͂͛̇̀̾͑̊͑̾̎͛̀u̶̥̲̣̱̞͂̈́̅̅͒̑͊̌̋̉͂̀̐́̾̓̕ḷ̴͙̙͎͓͉͖̫̟̩͉̗͈͙͍̝͊̓̈́͋̇̆͒̇̒̎̎̎̽͠t̷̡̡̢͕̮͇̘̺̲̯̮̪̳̦̃̈́́̍̅͆͝s̸͈̙̠̬̝̤̔͑̈͒͛͆͆̾͆͌̚͜͝͝.̴̨̛̫̰͓̲̠̹̦̼̻̥͌̂̃̍́̽͊̂̐͆̀̀̕͜”̸̛͈̞̱͇͓̳͇̯̟̱̭̓̂̌̽̓͑͒̌̅̄̍̚̚͠ ̶̨͋̀̎̇<br≯̜̟͖̮̬͙̗̻͈̻̯̗̲̯̳̄͊͗͐͑̕͜“̴̺̥̬̺͇̲͉̼̱̯̣̾̿̅̀̄͘͠I̶̥̎̈́̅̂̈́͐͗̏̾̎̅͊̔̽̽͝͝ ̶̢̢̢̟̰̟͓̳̲͔̖̳̞̉͋͜t̷͖͕̠͚̺̫̭̍͂̉͗̿͊̄͊͐̑͗͊̅̚h̸̤͍͇̠̭̞͇̣̐̒͐͐͛̄̏͛ĩ̶̧̼̗̤̟͓̀̐̎͜͝n̵̢̢̛̜͔̼̳͖̼͖̘̗͍̤̺̖̠̓͒͐̋̽̈͛́̐́̍̄̀̌̅k̵̡̯͛̓̒̏̅̑ ̵̧̢͍͕̪̱͚͔̝̳̤͉̰͖͈͗͛͛͒̇̊́̀̂̿̍̕ý̶͍̞͂̽̾̓͒̍͒͆̚͜͜͠ŏ̴̡͈͉̰͎͚͕͚̪̜̚͜u̸̧̢͚̬̻̬͕̯͓͖̯̬̐̈͊̑͒͗͗̕͘̕̚͜͝ ̸̜̔̐̀̏́͐̏̇ş̵̨̖͎̼͚͍̻̘̦͍̩̖̼͗̿̒̓̽̍̄̈̕ͅh̷̨̡̛̲̹̝̝̱͈̜͚̝̫̬̻̥͌̊̽̋͒͑̓̌̊̂̓͌͊̕͝ͅő̸̬̻̫̟̻̻͇̩̺̞̰̮̲͓̂͑͂̈̈́̀̐͆̑͝ͅṳ̷̰̏ľ̶̺̣̪͚̬̑͊͑̓̈́̂ḑ̵̬͇͇͖̟͔͎̤̹͎̞̪̦̊̈́ ̷̞͉͓̟̙̪̰̯̺̳͊̂͗͌̐͘͝a̴͚̩̼̙͚̼̘̲̣͖̺͙͌͆̔́͆̋̽͘ͅi̴͍̇̽̔́̎͋̽͗̇͂́̎̚͝m̴̨̛͚͎͚̞̬̫͈̤̦̼̟̲̳̫͈̆͐̏̓̈́̀̚͠ ̷̧̡̧͉̩͍̦̣̘̼͓͈̦͎̂̒͋̉̀̑̔̾̀͂̾͒̑̇̄͛̿ḩ̶͙̠͈̤̊̎͗̒ȉ̸̡̛͎̱̤͎̬͓̦͇̫̪̥̝͓͑̽̑̓̀͋͛͑̄͛̏̈̓͝͝g̷̤͖͙̞̬̟͙̠͚͉͑̓͐̋̍͑̽̅̓̑͆͘̕͘h̴͙͛̾̃̐̃̌̅̒͌̄̅̚̕͠ë̵̡͍͙͍̹̤̣̈́̑͊̿͂̚͘͠r̸̺̖͓̰̽̓̒̌͜ͅ.̷̛͎̘̗̾̍͊̈̐̑̎̿̈́́̚̚͜͠͝͝͝”̴̧̡̼̲͈̬̤̤̠̬̖̟͂͌͆͗͊͆́̎ ̵̡̹̭̰̹͔̲͇̣͚͛̉́̂T̷̡̛̪͔̘͉̱̪̩̦̘̳̊̕h̵̛̲͕͈̯̬̖͙̣̮͈̹͖̻̰̾̅ĕ̷̢̧̛̛͚̫͓̠͎͙͍̺͌̇͗́́̾͋̕̕͜y̸͉̰̩̔͂̋͂̈́̏̈́̚̚͘͝͝ͅ ̴̡̨̜̪̞̭̤̘̲̻̮͉̪͉͕̪͍͛͌̑̿̊̋̍̀́̕͝͠͝͝ẗ̸̗̝͕́̂̾̎̑̅͌̓̈͘͘͝ḁ̸̤̥̪̞̹̮̝̹͖͇̄͗̈̈́l̸̪̘̝̹͔̀́͛̏͛̓̆k̸̨̬̻͙̼̅́͆ȩ̸̧͔̜̯̲̝̞̪͉̪̄̈́͆̂̎̈̽͑̒̌̾̇̀̚͘͝d̸͔̟̪̮̜̊̄͌̌͐͛ ̴̫̋͛̆̐̾͘͠f̸̤̮͍̫̯̟̖͙̬͎͆̀͝ͅö̸̡́ŗ̶͓̝͎̼̮̖͖̂ ̵̧̬̤̣̺̱̘̳͙͓̞̼̻͎̫͖͊͂͊͋̍̌̾̓̂̔̅̓̓̈́͗â̷̡̳̏͑̏̐͑͝ ̶̧̢̛̫̖̤͚͚̟͇̹͙͙̩̟͓͛̄̏̑́͒̍͆̐̏͘͝w̴̡͚̹̠̪̮̮̻̲͓̜̰͒͗̈́̒̔͗̑̾̅̐̄̃͌͝͝ͅͅh̷̛̘͍̘̪̭̟͖͈̖͉̗̮̐̉̓͂̐̆̾̓͗̓͊̌̍̉̔͠ͅi̵̭̩̺̯͎͙̜̝̖̬͊̈͊ͅḻ̶̢̢̡̧͓̭͓̘̝͖̼̞͖̺̈́͐̔̿̈͜ë̴̡̧̖̻̞̩̫̥͎̱̘́̊̀̊͒̀͛̒́̒͜͠͝͝ ̵̡̨̼̯͙̣̭̙̥̈́̊̏̂͋̄̍͐̆̏́̔̚͝b̷̡͔̼̠̬̜̲͎͔̱͉͋̋͐͌̀͂͗́̍̀̉̾̎͜͝ù̴̩͓̦̳́͊̉̈͌̃̄̋̃͐̈̎̽͒̕͝t̴̢͍̲̦̀̋̏͊̃̾̃͒͆̌̌̽̏͌͂ ̸͕̫͔̫̺͍̤͓͈͍͊̃̒̊̆̈́̕͜͝s̶̨̧̳̺̼̮̪̝͚͔̜͗u̸̮̹̺͖͕͙͉̥̽͝ç̸̯̗̦͙͎̬̤̀̔̈̉̀̊̈́͜ḥ̵̢͗̔̄ ̷̨͉͚̭͉̪̻̣̗̩̪̭̏ą̴̧̨̡̟̠̝͍̤͔̗̫͊̐͊͋̈́̋̑͊͐̈̕͝͝͝m̸̡̧͓̬̖̞͆͑͗͗̂̔̀́̄͐̓̕͜͝͝b̵̨̭̯̦̦͇͕̖̟͐̓͂̉̓͑̆̽̎̑͊̄͆i̴̡̻̹̮͈̙͇̦͍̺̩͈̼̥̲͐̽̎̾̇͛͐̕͘͜͝͝ţ̸̥̜͚̬̤̗̩̀̽̾͗̀́̓͛̃̐̕͝͝͝i̶͙̮͚̟̭̟͐̿̅ò̸̘̿̅̓͒̈̈́̏͐̈́̋͆̆̔́̄͝n̶̡̢̬͍̤͇̯͓̠̰̳͐̈̿̃̀̽ ̴̭̯̲̦̝̝̺̟̗̱̉̈́̑̋̒w̵̨̨̡̛̰̦͍͔̤̠͚͔̜͓̣̑̂̂å̴̧̡̝̠̬̄͂̄ś̶̢̧̧̡͈̬̱͍̗̯̹̝̤͙̽̈́̊̈́̅́̂͒ͅ ̵̰̗̺̬͈̜̻̙́̎̽͋̄̈́b̷͓̼̬̝͚̿͛̅͘ẹ̷̈̊̀̾̀͐̈́̓͘y̷̡̢͎̟̣̖̜͔̭̪̖̰̠͕̟̋̋͋̔̅o̵̫̙̥̮̥͉̊̐̈ṉ̵̨̨͇͚̝̤̞̯̯͓̪̣̗̀̀͐̽̅͑̾̍̐̉͘̕d̷͍̱̝̬͔̼̼͛̎̓̃͆̍͊̽̇̈́̓͛̈͌̚͝ ̶̢̧̱͉͔̭͚̃̊̀̎͛̓̚͠ţ̸̗̗̰̭̖̤̳͉͓͉̝͖̫̳̞͌̋̆͂̍̍͂̋̃́̏̇̏͘͝ͅh̴̖̫̺̭̯̝̫̱͑̃̓̓͊̌̆̔̈́́͐̒̓ę̸̧̨̦͕̼̥̺̞͙̬̲͇̠͐̎͆̌̾̕ ̶̢̯̲̃̄̔̾m̶̢̿͑͌̃̊̎̄́̓͠ȁ̶̢̨̢̹̤͚̝̮̲̯̽̄͂͆̑͠͠n̶̝̏’̷̘̟̯̦̼̱͐̒s̵̙̳̥̯̈́̃͑̒̿͑̈́̌̾͌̒͜͝͝͠ ̵̧̛̗̳̟̪̞͓̣̟̫̆̎́͗̽̌̅̃͋̊̌͛̕͝ğ̸̡̨̘͖̹̜͚̪͕̰̼̖̆͊̊̔̽͝ŗ̶̳͕̮͉̬̳̲̝̬̆͂̑̇̈̐͌͗̈́͝a̴̧̧̧͈͚̟͉̼̟̲͓̬̙̝̾̾̍̃̔̓̔̃̎̃͌́̇͗̕͜͝s̸͔̓p̸̢̛̲̾̋̿̂͊̑́͌͊̒̎͗̽͌̈.̴̢̟̙̗̰͚͇̰̠̠͈͌̋̔͠ͅ ̸̛͖̦͕͔̥̙͉̙̼͇̗̩̥͋̈̌́͗̈́̌́͐̓̾̃̕̚͝H̷̡̧̦͓̙̝̰͔͉̻̗͍͂̆̉̍̒̏͊͆e̸̪͉̞͋̆̀͒́̿̍̉͝͠ ̷̡̧̨̱̠̩̜̩̱̩̯̜̰͕̱̮̍̎̿͑̎͑̓̚̚͜͝͝a̶͇̥͔͑̍̽̓̍̑͛̅̅̀̚͠͝ļ̶͔̦͈̭͔͓͖͚͙͍̲̬̀͂̊̉̉̂́̍̕͝͝͝s̷̢̡̺̲̰̜̮͚͉̫̃̆͊̓ͅơ̷̘̗̬͎̣̗͓͉͚͚̥̊̊̄̋͆̈͂͆͜ ̴͎̩͙͇͎͈̘̻̎̎͝d̶̢̜͖͈̿̓̈̄̾͌͒̚͜i̸̛̙͔͓̘d̸͍́̽̈́̔̓̿̄̾̈ ̴̖̰̳̝̻̱̥̟̺̙͍̩̂̏̉͘͝ṅ̶̢̨̛̞̲̭̠̩̠͕̜̺̝̙͔̝̃̍̎̄̇̀̌̓̚͝͠ǫ̴̛̻̲̻̺̫̳̬̮̗̪̬̩̪͎̀̈̎̉t̵̟̳̦̳̫̬̟͚̉̊̆͌̉̓̓̔͆͋̍ ̶̛̛̜͍̘͉͙̮̔̇̀͊͗̄̔͆̎̈́k̶̨̡̳̠̩͔͔͖̯̻̳̲̜͊͋͐ņ̷̛̛̮̦̌̓̿̀̈́̏̅̅́ͅo̸͙̙̜̱͈̟̖̜͚̲̫̦̦͖̞͑̾͆̑́̏̐͆̒͝ͅw̸͚̙͍̳͔̆͑͌̈́̽̒̏͌̑͊̇͘̕͜͝͝ ̴̛͙̮͎̬̹̰̺̙̪̦͈̲̺̬͍̈̀̾̅̈́̉͒̐͐̽̍̆̀͜͠͠t̴̞͔̗̠̝̲̤̣̹͗̀̐͂̀h̶̥̱͇͍̖̩̭̱̫̫̻̍͋̿́̋̑a̸̳̬̦̜̜̹̘̥̮̞͛̇̃͆̈́̋̔͑̿̿̕͠t̶̢̟͈̯̉͌̈́̓͂̐͝ ̶̨̱͚̣̰̣̔̏͆̒̽ḣ̶̢̧̙̮̲͇̘͇͎͖̊́̚̚͠e̵̡͔̖̯̤̳̊͑͆͆ ̵̭̂͊̈́̍̀͐̓w̷̡̡̢̧͙̟͍̭͔͓̲̩̭̙̞͋̅͂̕ͅa̴̛̜̫͇̬͐͛̾̈̋͐͗̊̽͛̕͝͝s̶̛͍̝̰̟̰͓̘̔̇̍̅̋̒̄͊͂̾̅͂͜ ̸͎̞̭͈͛̔̊̎́̔̒́̓̑̅̿̓̈́͌͜͜͠ͅp̸̢̨̡͓̹̗̯͉̮͎̟͉̱̳̟̪̂͊̽͋̀̆͑͆̑̌̂̓͘̚̚e̷̢̨̛̛̛̙̞̙̱̤̲̺̰̜̠̫̞͖͒̍̈́̽͒̿̽͜͠͠ṫ̶͇̾̍̾̊͠į̸̢̹͙̮̫͙̈̉̃̽͆͒̓͆̀͐̅̒̊̈̌͊̐t̴͕̩́̀͒̃ḯ̴͎̖̜̺̘͎̥̫̟̗̠̭͍̝̻̰͇ȏ̷̟͚̝̱͚̱͍͉̱͌̊͆̒ṋ̶̨̧͖̝͙̭͖͍̲̺̲̙̔́̀̉̎̌͌͝i̵͚͍͆͑͊͆̂̑̋̿n̴̛̩̄̉͒̀̈́̐͐͒ģ̷̞̬͓̙̥̼̼̩͖̭͓̯̦̹͖̆̔̒͊̓̀͗̈̑͐͛̆̎̔̄̚͝ͅ ̸̨̛̟͓̤̜̖̫̯̭̞͓̅̀̃͑͗́̎̈́̇̿̐̚͘̚͝͠ͅA̶͉͈͙͖͎̼̰͓̺̭̳͗̎̅͜͠r̶̙̼̄͑̋͑̃͝t̸̛͉͖͌́̃̈́̔̏̆̓̑̽͜ë̴̦́̈́̿̈̏̈͛̓̈̈̽͒̅m̷̹͎̮̅̉̾̆̉͋͛̀̾̈́̾̏͜͝͝͝ï̵̢̧̭̩͚̯̠͈͍͇̪̗̃͑̎̎̀̌̂̄̈́̚͘͝s̴̛͓͔̹̹̹̺̳̮̑͒̋̆̾͑̈́̒̓̾̑i̶̢̧̯̹̱̜̳͕̼͎̟̼͕̾͆̇͂̔͛̃͌̐ͅâ̴̦̗̬̄̓͂̈́̀͋͐͂͛͆̎͑̽͜͝͠͠ ̶̹̬͎̯̞̠̍̊̂̓̅̔̍͝i̸̡̛̯̞͉̙̘̥͎͍̻̺̗̼̩͖̹̊̃͒̊̽͂̉̑̌͋̔͊̉͝ͅn̶̡̦̦̦̗̥̥̹̦̖̹̺͓̻̖̾̋̔̓͒̈́̃́́̕̕̚͘͜͝ ̴̛̳̐͌̓̾͆̈́͌͗̈́͘͝͝͝͠h̷̠͙̝̦̰̏͊̌͊̉̇̀̌̿̇̽͋͜͝e̴̡̛̖̬̝̙̝̻̳͈͖̗͈̝̋̇͗͊̍͜ṟ̷̆̉̆̀̿͛͠ ̶̡̛͈̦̥̝̭̲̎̀͋̇̊̋̊ö̷̧̡̨̲̝̣͍̣͕̭͍͚́̀͊͛̿͛͊̍͋̌͑̊͂͘͘͜ẘ̷̨̨̨̛̤̩̗̞̦̞̯̫̜̖͎͋͋̏̈́̊͋̏͗͆̐̅̓͑͘̕͜ň̴͎̯̦̖͇̯͚͓̻̞̤͐̃̂̿̈͘͜͝ ̸̢̛͚̭̺̙͇͉̽̅̋̌̓͌̈́͗̏̑̔h̶̛̦̞̲̤̘̰̠̔̀̈́͛́̀͊͌͌̿͛͌̅͐͘͜o̵̯͉̯͕͛͐̿̆́̂͗̈́͝ḿ̷̘̰̲͕͇́̊̅̃͛͛͗̉ͅē̴͍̦̦͖̤̲̓̈́̚̚,̶̢̤̣̝̥͖̦̤̤̫̀͛̋̓͜ ̸̛̪̜́̌͑́̂̐̋̇̀̐͆̆͊̀̕͜͝ā̴͉̩̮̗̝̅̊̿̀̒̿̈́͋͋̄̀̕̚͠ͅn̶̡̳͚̻̝̖̤̖̘͉̯̠̜̤͙̎̿̓̅͋͊͌̓̐̄͘͠͝d̴̺̫͇̞̠̳̝͓̗͓̙̫͍͐̓͌̽́̆̓̄̏̇͒́̄̾̅̆ ̷̢̧͇͔͉̯̞̼̓̿͋̀̍̌̇̿́̃͂̌̆̕ţ̸͈̰̫̣̻̤͈̪̂͐͋̉͛̂͝͝h̴̡̬̭̘͚̖̖̥̰̯̰͍̭̖̰͖͊̓̽̔́̃̂͊̀̃͂̎́̇̀̚ͅa̴͙̘͎̯̖̜͚̥̤̙̤͉̩̰̿̔̍t̸̅̎͜ ̴̘͖̫͔̬̺͋̈́͆̏͆͗͋̓͗̾̽͗̿ş̵̨̼̣͔̩̊̈́͐́͆̈̓͆̈̆̀̈̄̕͘͝͝h̵̰̼̜͍̻͍̱̐̅e̸̢͈̻̝̼̞̻͈̘͍̺̤̞̒͗̉̀͗͊́́̃͌̉͝͠ ̶̫̗͋̊̓̓̕w̶̨̞̰̪͍̩̱͈͎͕̣͓̅̄͑̃̊̅̌̆̉͜͝a̴̱̼͑̔̏̓͗́̈́̐́͘͝ş̷̗͇̲̘̮̘̙͚͗́ ̴̱͓̐̽͌́̏̓̓̀͐͊̔͂̆̈́͜͝͝c̷̢̛̜̭̪̦̗̻̭͚̹̯̹̎̊̃̽̌̂̽͆̒̑͋̿̈́̚͜ó̶̞̰̼̮̳͎̀̒͂̀̈́͋̕͠͝ḿ̵̬̳̣̦̪̠̠̳̟̖͌͆̆̅͂͌̉̊͘̚p̸̢̩̘̠̞̹̫̳̠̥̘̣͈̠̔̑̉̊̓̽̿̅̈́̐́͌͘̕͠ͅě̶̹͛̀́̈́͛̀̇̏̚͘͝͠l̶̢̨͉̪̭͓̼͙͙͍̙̮͂͑ļ̸͎̖̝̥̗̩̣͒̏̾̆̄̒̋͑͊͒̎͝ȩ̸̛̫͓̣̩̘̙̱̘̙̈̀̌̀̊̒̍̇̚̚̚͜͠d̶̢̥̭̦̎͂͂͗̈́̾̀̿̑̀̾͑̓͌͠͠ ̵̙̳̓̇̓t̴̨͍̩͚̳͚̗͕̖̗͗̔̍ö̶̧̞̼̝͕̟̮̪͚́͊̈̈́̿͗̒̿̄̃͛̔̑̇͜͝ ̷̢̛̛̝̃̃͊͌̈́͝͝͠g̷̣͓̓͠ŕ̴̛͉̔̏̊̇͒̿̊̄̍̑͛̐͑̚á̶̟̺͖̠̼͎͖̦̙̟͖͆̍̄n̶̖̞͇̯̜͉̹̞̮͇̟͒́͑́͑͋̎̂̒̀͗̎̀̍͘͜͝t̸̨͇͖͎͔̗͙̾̉̔̓ͅ ̸̡̘͚̞͍̥̿̄̒͒̈́͗̎́̀̄͘͝h̶̛͔̪̲̞͝i̸̥̘̼̭̞̓̊͐s̶̠̹̪̞̱̘͈̬̺͚̩̻̀̉̃͜ ̸̟̹͑̆̆̂͑͐̊̿͗̏̿̐̈́͗̕͝r̵̢̛̭͔̻̬̺̝̠̠̜̍̂̂͆̈̽̆̋͐̏̇͗͒͘͝e̸̢̛̱̩̯̞̘̦̹̋͗̂̀͑̈̇̓̃̇͊̚͜͠q̸̧̙̣̖̙̭̻̭̮̎̑̂͑̓̈̑͜͝͠ȗ̴̲͔̣͕̱͖̦̙̜̗̪̳͎̺̥̀é̸̛͖̻͚̯͚͎̙̗̮͚̤̭̋̋͑̈́͐̄̔̿͗̚͘ͅs̶͓͊͛̿̄̅̒̆̚͘t̷̻̣̫̲͕̠̪̱̺̼͎̪̖͙̆͋̏̎̊͘.̵͚̠̻́̂̄̇́͐̏̄̃̾̑̚̕ ̴̢̹͎͓͎͉͙̪̖̤̱̰͕̣̜̙̄̐Ẅ̴̧̨͈̝͖̳̻̳̟͕ḩ̸͚̜̠̪͋̐̃̇̐̎̿̆̈́̍̆̔͋͝ī̷̱̯̱̯̰̭̼͖̥͇͉̫̅̂ļ̶̏̅ȩ̶̛̛̣̋͆͆̀͋́͑̑͂̏̋͝͠ ̷̧̠̩̰̟͕̫̻̳̳̻̜̝͙͇̈́͆͌̌͐̚͝b̶̢̛̗̓̉̽̈̓̓͆̃͆̈̔͛̀̽̕̕ȍ̴͈̈̀͆̈́̆̿͌̐͊̑́̊͒͛̚u̷̫̬͉̗̫͚͉͆̎͗͛̆͑̄̄̾ͅn̷̨̤͉̻̩̬͍̘̝͓̩̹̫̰̏͂͊͜ͅd̷̠͈̬̼̹͍̭̣̟͓̃̌̾͘ͅ ̶̧̨̝̟͈̦̥̜̤̰̮̻̮̜̬͆̆ţ̶̧͇̜̙̱͆̾͋͛̌̏ͅo̴̮̠̥̭̠͌͆̐̓̍̓̎͝͝ ̴͉̼̞̲͓̑̓h̷͎̱̤̗͉̙̗͎̎͌̋͛̚͜͜͠ư̵̘̬̤̟͙̝̤̦͉͈̠̫̳̏̑̏͒̆̍̍́͗͗̿̎͊͝m̷̛̼͙̣̠͔̬͙̦̂͐̈́̿̃̏̈́̂̏̀̔͒̓͝ͅa̸̛̝̤̭̞̮̩̣̘̦͋̒̈́̾̔̂͐̈̂̄̈́͒̓̎̑ň̸̲̳͖̄͐̆͘͜ ̵̭̯̹̼̺̲̺͉̟̲̼̗̠̗̽̽ͅf̴̢̭̙̖̼͉͕̺̼̃̓̽͛̊̒͊̀́͑͑͛͛̓̚͜o̷͚͉̼̦͙͔̰͓̓̈͌̆̾͆͋͛͊̏̋̚͝ͅr̶̢̢̯̤̫͖̪̥̯̦̣͓̜̹̼̽̑͐͋́͛͐̓͠m̵͇̝̖̙̘̪̦̳͖͍̼̠̑̓̓̊̋͂̿̎̒̈̀̌͋͠͝͝͝,̵̧̛̛͕̻̣̻̯̜̗̟͇̟̈̿̌͊̾̇̈̇͘ ̶̢̺̫͓͈̼͓̳̺̗̱̠̊͑̂̈́̚ͅt̷̼͖̝̮̥̝̼͈̠̪͖̻̠͈̫͍̑̚ͅh̶̡̢̢̹͇̻͔͉̪̼̭͕̜̎̃͋͒͒́̓ë̴̛͈͚̬͕̪̣͇̰͔͔͙̤͚̝͚̥́̈́̌̉̽͛̍̀͒̔̐͂̾͝͠ͅ ̶̧̜̭̹̩̝͉̦̻̝̤͓̞̟̉̉̓͒́̋͗͛̀́̇͑ĝ̴̛̼̖͕̩̬͔͙͊o̵̭̔̃͒͑̈͂͋͛̄͝͝d̸͖̬͚̰̬̟͉̘̬͒̿̾͐́̉̄̅̓́̀̊̉͑̅d̴͖̔́͛̓͘͠ͅę̷̳̫̞̝̫̟̠͖̀̌̍̔͌̈́͋̅̍̐̽̀̕̕s̴͚͕̱̤͂͂̔̾̄͆̈̈́̕͝s̵̢̠͇̘̰̔̋̆̿̋̀̃͋͆̈͠͝ ̴̯̜̮̞̫̣̫̗̻̱̖̟̼̘͂̉̈́̄̊̿̓ͅc̷̢̭̰̣̳̭̲͙̼̪̼̮̯̟͌̿̃̈̎̍̓͑̍̌͊̾̀͌̚͠͝ỡ̵̢̧̮͚̭͕͙͑̓́̍̏̽̔̊̈́̚̚͝ủ̶̢̬̙̫͍̯̭͉̖̈́̀̒̏͐͌̎͌̊̈͒̀͒̄l̵̗̫̙͎̆̏́̄͂̂̈́̀̋̑̽͘̕͝͠ͅd̶̬̮̩̝̩̪̥̹͙̱̯̦͑̈́̓̈́͆̔͛̉̓̎͘͜͜ ̵͉͓͍̝̟̼͇̻̬̫͇̺̖̹̫̄́͛̾͝o̵̢̤̪̭̥͎͖̲͈͎̝͈͐̓̍̀̌̉̈̄̄͒̾̾͠͝͝͠f̸͈̰̱̠̈̏̇̉̑͑̊̏̎̐͐̂͒͒͑͒͝f̴̙́̋̋̓̎̋͑̉̐̉̽͗̊͘̕e̴͙̤̩͙̝̿̑̋̊̽̎̃̄̇̐͌̏͘͠͝r̴̞͖̘̮̭̬̺̼̠̗̣͕̩̝͒̑̀̔́̄̇͒͗́̓̀̔̕͠ ̵̲̲̪̤̰̹͙̠͓̥̳̙̺̅a̵̩̹̲̰̙̽̑̅̅̂̾̈́̄͒͊̾̓͛̇͜͠ ̷̛͍͑̄͑̂̽́̃̓͗̀̈͠͝͝ͅș̸̛͔̝̾͋͂͌͑̃̆͒̚͝ĩ̷̡̛͚͍͓̦̤͎̲̬̲͎̲̝̾͑̆̌̈́͝ͅͅñ̷̨̛͔͔̗̪̘̖̬̟̞̤̩̊̀͌̌͛̓̋̑̌͋̓̀̊̐̚ͅģ̶̛̛̘͓͚͉̳̦̻̓̓̍̎̀̂̽̾̀͠͝͝l̶̢̼̜̫̘̪̫̙̙̹̬̩͕̱̟̤̖̈́͆͊̒̀̀̎́͊̚͠ẻ̷̡̧͓͖̗̞͉̺̦̼̦͎̖̀̀̌̈́̑̌̋̈́̊ ̸̨̙̦̱̲̭̮͎̿͐͐̽̊́͆̓͗̕̚͘͠͠ģ̷̻̪͓͍̭̲̗̣̥̺͓̱̙̺̃̈́͑̒͒̓̎́̋i̵̮̬̼͊̌͂̉̌̉̾̎̌͘͠f̸̠̻̥͈̈́̚͜t̷̡͓̳͕̩̮̺͖̫͈̤̰̖̦̭̝̂̒̀͌̂̅͛͝.̶̞̩̤̦̭͚̪̞̍̓̀͑̃͂̿̾̀̌̋̂̅̎͐͒̚ ̸̮͇͍͚̗̩̘͉̗̺͓̱̟̫͈́̄́͠S̵̫͕̘͙̗̩̜͑̋̾̓̋̔͂̕o̶͎̖̖̭̖̥̻͉̮̖̜͛̄̾̔̊̓̍́̏͑̐̚m̷̛̖͎͔̰̘̮͔̳͐͌̌̇͌̏͑́͌̈́͋̄͝é̶̱̬̺͗͆͂̃͐́̐̔̄̈̂͠͠͝͝o̶̦̲̥̠̙̓̿̓̀̽ņ̶̧̲̫̦̣̣̘͕̮̗̙̼͎̪̌͐̈͆̾̊͛̊̓̓͑͗̉͋̌͗̇ͅę̴̹̰͈̠̗͎̖̺̒̋̎̏̎͑̈͌͆̉͑ͅ ̵̟͓̝͎̹̗̮͓̫̞͉̓͆̔̈́̆͜ͅe̴̡͙̬̝̝̭̺͌̑́̿̓͊͌̏̏͋̀̽l̴̢̖͚̥̙͎̹̬̻̰͕͕̮͆̏̈́͑̒͌͋̌̎͑́̓̐̎͐̕̚s̶̡̮̠͉͓̳̝͙̳͓̬͕̬͍̫̘̣͒́̓̐̃̂̓̾͘̕͠͝e̸̡̛͙̯̪̰̗͇̻̥̝̳̗̖̓̋̒͐̂͑̉̈́͆̈͑̾̑̒̓̈͜ͅ ̶̨̢͖̩̣̣͖̪̳͚̣̰̭̮̤̭̌͛́̿̅͆̀̐́̕͝p̵̡̡̼̘͔̺̤̮̳̳̻̂̓͆̈́̓̀̇̔̍͂̃̅́͂̎̕͜õ̴̡̧̧̺̖̬̗͚̜̦̦̭̋̏̈́͐̑̇͗̇̾͋̓̏͘͜ͅs̴̙͓̈́̾͛́̇̌̿̕š̴̪̺͔̀͆̌̾͗͘e̵͚̹̘̞͍̪̓̇s̶̙̩̪̪̥͕̳̜̯͛̽ͅŝ̸̡̢̨̱̝̥̣̱̀͗̈́̾̀͗̓͒̈̌͝͝e̸͔̭̙͈͇̗͉͔̟̓̈́̃̉̉͊́͒̂͐̐͛̋͝d̶̲͕̘̲̲̫̼͕͐̉͛̚ͅͅ ̵͕̫̱̼̐̊̄̈́͜ͅṭ̷̢̻̭̭̦̬̭̱̭̆͆͋͐̋́̈́̆͋͆́͘ḩ̷̪̥̦̙̯̘̞̭̫͓͖̐̀͆̌̆̚͜͜͠͠ͅͅȅ̷̛̛̟̤̣̊̐̽̈́̀͆̿̄́̚͝ ̵̛̛̛̥̙̹̖̥͖̼͈̩̈́̋͆̈̈́̊̏̾̂́͒͘͝͠ͅg̸̡͖̤̻̰̞̰̖̠̐̄̄ĩ̷̧̡͈͓͔̞̟̟̹̺̩̣͚̲̮̼͌̄͛͌̓̋͊f̸̢̨̢̡̧̢̛̠̦̺͉̗͈̰́͛̄̂͐̕t̷̨̯͖͙͙̩̘͙̯̲͇͕̪͉̑̎̃͝ ̴̰̀ą̷̨̱̼͍͓͓͎͕͔͓͕̗͋̀̒͗̀̈́́̚̕̚̚͜t̸̢̛̥̱̫̫̱͕̤͙͎͇̒̊̔͐͋̿̾̇̎̐͒͆̄͂̚͜͜͜͝ ̸̧̧̱̠̺͇̞̱̰̯̭͇̩̗̲̀̈́̎̑͌̽̉͑̿̕͠͝͠͝ͅt̷̡̡̨̛̹̥͈̹̩̜̪̗͖̻͕͙̜́̄͋͋̓̀̈́̐͊̚͜͝͝h̵̠̜͖̣̜̯̻̼̳̫̖̪͋̀͝ė̴̥̌͗ ̸̢̜͍̱̗͍̦̳̣̞͚̒̏̔̅̀̈̔̋̌̕͘͝m̵̬̳̖̳̱̤̞̳̘̜͚̯͔̅̊̍̚͘ͅo̷͖͖̦͔͖̙̤͔̊̽̈́̉͑̑̉͋̈́͑̈́̏́̐̚m̸̤͍̫̮͕̍͝ͅę̷̈́̂̐̍̿̀̋̂̉͐͝n̷̺͌ţ̵̮̲̜̲̻̮̝͙͔͇̺̯͇͇̿,̷̛̞̠̲̹̓̄̇͛́̀̈́͌̏̏̃͑̿͋͝͠ͅ ̴̢̢̬̥͙̫̮̣̼̘̣͈͖̼͓̆̔̒͑̇͆͘͜ͅb̶̡̟͉͚͕̫̝̖̙̰͙̗̿ͅư̵̖̙̓͋̆̅̄̚͘͠͝t̸̛͔̯̮͕͇̦͍̞̯̲̬̊͌͂̅̓̔͌͛̏̌̄̚ͅ ̸̤͚͕͚̳̂̏̔͛̿̔̀̄́̅͘̕͝͝͠s̴̞̪͈̻͆̀́̚ḧ̵̢̝͖̣̞̪̮̟̣̗́̌̏͗̋́̒͋̽̕̚ẻ̶͈͕̱̮̻̓̏͊͜ ̸̙͎̓̃́̅̚c̸̨̼͖̬̮͇̟̞̅̊̓̄͊ô̸̬̮̪͈͈̗̖͙̩̞͕̣ų̷̛̥̼̼͎̦̲̼̘̟̠͖͍͗̽̍̓l̸̡̛̜̜̰̣̻̟̙̦̝͓̳̲̄̍̈́̈́̽̏̂̍̄̂̔̑̈́̉͠͝d̷̨̧̛͙̯̗̥̙̳̱̘̠͈̪̟̲͕̆͛͑̌̀͂̚̕̕̚̚͜͠ ̷̟̽͑͗̈́t̷̺̘̳̬͉̹̥͎͊̍̀͛͂͐̇͑̆̇̉̽̔͘̕͝ŗ̵̢̗͎̦̭̻͍͎͚̱̠̼̅͋͐̈́̚͝ȁ̵̡̹̩̺̻͕͓̹̤̽̐́̂͆n̷̛̟̳͚̠̪̱̬̘̙̖͙͐͋̆́̽̍͝ͅs̵̞͙̺͓͎̟̲̥̖͔͓̜̖̅̐̎̈̓̒͜͠͝f̵̨̡̙͎̝̮̫̍͂͘̚ę̸̛̘̫̞̣̮̹͎̾̃͒̒͂̉̓͆͋͗͜͝r̶̡̨̞̳̗̔̄̑̈́͛͂̽̑́͘͜ ̴̢͚̮̩̳̣̗̬̬͆͗̈́͊́̒͂̆̑̋̀͊̕͠i̷̡̡̘̥̰̠͚̲͎̘͈̠̰̔́̓̈́t̵̨̞͉̞̻̺̂͌̎̈́̒͐̑͝ ̷̢̡̛͎͙̱̼͕͕̪͚̻͋̀̎̆̏̿̑̔̆̕á̸̧̱̺̘͎͍̒̓s̵̪̙̤̫̞̮̝̥̑͋̂̏̂̈́́̾̒̓͗̚ ̴͈̻̹̩̰͖̱͑̓͌̊̕l̷͔̦̥̍̈́̐̓͗͒ͅớ̶̡̦̳͔̰̹̟̣͕̦̖̤̘̈́̊͆̍͊̍̚̚͜͜n̶̗͕͚̮͑̇̅̈́͒̓̑́̾̅͘g̶̮͕͙̥̗̗̻̳̋͗͒̇̽̏̓̓̌͐̊̌̆̏͘͠͝ ̴͔̖̍̿̏̄͝a̷̤̘̺͇̺̙̼̼̖͔̦̩̳͇̗̋́̍̈͘͜ͅs̷̡̡̛̜͓͔̖̟̞̳͕͓̗̭̰̯̈́̀͗̏͐̉̑́̕͝ ̵̢̠̹̖͉̲̫͓̗̘̠̠͚̲̺͖̍̌͌̌͂͗̉̈̍̏̏͋͆̍͗̚͝t̸̡̛͔̬̯̄̐̀́̐̕ḫ̶͎͉͓̫͖̘̽̅͂̅̓̊̊̄̇̊̌̽͘͝͝͝e̷̬̝̣͙̳͂̋͂̆ ̶̱̠̝̎ḿ̶̧͓̻̥̤̩̫̓̆͛̈́͊͌̇̅̇̈́̓͠͠ḁ̶̡̧̬͕͚̯͍̞̪̰̱̖͖̫́̏n̴̢͔̲͖̱͈͎̍̅͝ ̸̢̼͓̙͉̦͕̹̝͕̖̱̅̊͒͑̌͆͐̇͆̏́͜c̶͓̭̘̩͎͈͖͈̬̞͈̾̋o̴̡̡̧̯̲̰̫͇̻̞̦̽̊̃̃͗͗͌̀̄̾̂̋̓͛̕͝͝ư̴̢̨̤̺̦̺̘͔͈̥͇̫̗̹̈̆́͋̿̀̎̇̏̑́͜l̶̼̖̓̀́͗̄͘d̷̨̢̢̛͔̲͔̪̭̺̣́̐̀͊̓͌̌̈́̊̚̕ ̷̧̛̭̼͔̻̰̪̞́̂̈̅͝ͅm̶̘͖̗̺͈̯̗͉̜̟̼̬͈̯̝̯͑͌ͅä̶̢̱̜͔̟̜́̍́̐̅̽͝͠n̶̩̳̘͕̺̥͍̦͚̘̻̺̄͋̀̎͆͗̾͒̎͒ͅͅa̵̧̡͕̬̮̬͔͎͕͉̺̻͓̙͕̋g̶̖̱͉̰͎̤̼̮̼̜̦̘͊̈́͊͑̎̽̀̈́̅̋̒̈́͒̂̚͘e̴̢̗̯͍̯͐͋̓̂̊̏͊͗͗͒̃͗̍̎̚ ̸̲̭̮͉̠̜̖͚̦͉̥̙̙̲̦͗̀̒͂̈́͆͊́̀̀̉̏́̚t̵̺̫̥͐̎̅̐̔͆͘̕̕ö̴̲͈͕̜́͌̌͌̆̅̓͛̚͝͠͝͝ ̷̖̞͈̭͎̈̈́̊͐̎̾̔ͅg̷͈̜̰͇͓̣͙̝̱͍̺̭̖͎͍̔͂͂̏͂̓̀̇͛̈͑͒ę̴̨͉̙̯̙̯̘̫̪̙̩̯̳͙͔́̈́̈̍́̆̎̅͐̇̑̑t̸̢̧̛͖̬͇̤̰̩̬̘͉̑̈́́̌̊̑̇̐̈́̚ ̶̨̧̛̮̝̟̦͓͎̰̖̟̗̙̤͋͌̉̔̌̄̔̎̐̈́̂̌̀͋̂͜ͅŵ̸̡̭̮̦̠̭̼̜̞̿ì̵̳̭͔̝̺̦̖̋͋̋̑̔͑̀́̔t̸̹̗̺͚̓͗̀́́͒̊̒̂͝h̴̞͚͍͇̦͚̹̭̖̞̱̬̫̳̺͕͉̔̉̋̀į̸̻̞͍̰̥̜̭͇̜̼͉͈̺̻̍̃̚͝n̵̡̻̟̠̤͇̺͍͓̻̞̰̑̐̈̆̽͐̏͜ͅ ̵̛̛̥̺̩͒͗̃͑̀̂̈́̌͛̃͛͝a̸̢̨̯͕̫͚̘͇͎̞̙̙̺̐̿̄͂͗̎͛̄́͑̂̃͛̐͘͜͝r̷̡̢̬̭͙͖̲͉̳̳̮̼̼͈̋̒̂̅̃̅̑͆̎͌̏͝ͅm̵̧̰̲̰͉̭͓̬̮̞̲̠͔̥̝̌́͐̈́̊̇̿̿̀̓̃͜͝͝ͅ’̶̢̮̜̝̓̊̏̈́͌͆̊̎͝s̸̢͓̭̣̲͓̗̩̰͓̦͓̜̺̾̽̂͆͂̓̽͂ ̸͖͚͍̺̙̯̥͕͎͈̞͙̪̯̹̦͇̈́́̍̈̂͊̍̇͆̈́̆̀̈͘͘l̸̢̛͉̦̪͊̚ȇ̷̢͖̫͇̬͇̝͒́̒͛̒͜ṅ̸̺̂̒́̀̍̒́͒̚͘͠͝g̴̝̮̅̂̋̍͂̈̇͑͌̇͛̋̀͐̑͝ṫ̴̡̳̹̮͈͉͉͍͚͚͔̯̺͍͚́̌̅ͅh̷̢̛̛̞̲͉̯̮͉͇̜̬̳̯̫̎̎͗̑̑̏͛̑̈́͐̐͑̆̂͝ ̵̻̖̲̞͚̪̣̜̻̺͍̻̖͗̍̈́͗̓̕ͅŏ̶̜̟͓̱̆͋̾̈́̈̔͐̈́̒̐͒̏͑͠ḟ̴̡̜̱̩̣͖̪̠̺͒̽͋͆̋̈́̊̀͂͐̒́̄̿͐ ̸̮̟̬̖̙̼̹̓̽̊͆́ẗ̶̡̪̗͓́̆̇̀̃́̈́̎̍̋̎ͅh̴̢̢̦̟͉̔́̀͝ē̸̡̡̛̱͉̼͇̝̣̻͚̜͕̉͆͊̆͐̈́̒̆̍̄͒͑̉͘͝ ̵̡̝͓̹̩͎̺̲͇͙̝͔̫͚̅̽̏ͅc̶̫͕̯͚̥̝̲̦̘̖̐̂̆̄̈̉̋͆̉̄̅͝u̴͔̗͓͔̙̍̇̋̏͠r̴̨̨̻̪̖̤͈̻̰͇̫̘̺̃ͅr̸͓̻̺͕̫͓͈̟̱̲̳̼̣̯̻̜̠̍̾͋͂͋̔̀̒̊͌̐̕͘e̸̩̞͔̬̿̈̇͂̈́͘n̷̨̨̡̟͇̱͎̟̬̻͒̊̂̇̎̚͝ͅţ̸̹͕͕̝͎̯̩̠͉͋͒̈́̈́̔͌̔̋̈́͂͝ ̵̡̧̛̠͉̳͖͔͖͕̅́̾̎̅̄̓̄͌̈́̇̅̈́̓̈́̕͜ȍ̷̡̮̠͎͈͖̗̤̋̄͒̐̌̍̀̍̓̑͑̓́̀̋̚w̶̛̠̠̙͓͋̊n̸̢̗͉͔̥̱̯͛̔̊̒̈́̅͑̔̀̇̕ę̶̛͙͔̳͉͖̻͎̖͛̄̄̏ͅȑ̷͉̘̱̘̜̝̱̦͓̻͔̤̘̉́̌̕͜͠.̵̨̢̳͙̜̳̬̦̯̭̜̖̤̗̑̓͋̈́̈͌͒̓̍ͅ ̸͚̘̬͈̩̠̝͙͓̝̤̰̞͖̖͔̌̽ͅ<br≯̛̛̛͕͕̦͓̥̮̈͐̔͌̽̓͆̅̊̾̇͠͠“̷̨̡̰͉͇͚̩̙͇̮̎̓̔́̓͗͆͒̔̽̆̀̒͘C̵̫̑͗́̈̄̓͝͝ǫ̷̼͇̭̦̝̠̳͚̀̍͐͋̈́̈̅̓͋̆̇͛̀́͝͝n̶̨̹̮̳̯͙͈̓̒͐̅͛̈́̀̓́̓̕͝͝d̷̨̢̩͇͎̥̀̽͆̿̂̀̒i̴̧̛̥̅̃̈́͑̕͜͝t̶̡̢̗̦̹̭͖̦͎̯̮̠̳̠̠̒̅̿͐͊͊̒͌̚͘̚͝ì̶͚̹̺̗͝ȍ̸̧͉̯̲̬̜̻͍̼͚͈̹͛̉̿̇̒̌͜͝͝n̶̤̥̗̬̟̥̂͑͛̈́̈́̂́̓̀̊͂́̃̊̓̏̅ş̶̼̱̳͖̯̝̮͇̱̝̣̤̾́͋͛͋̄͐͑̓̏̎͛͗̈́̚ ̶̨̟̣̤̖̭̣͇͖̤͕̍̽͆͑̀̒͗̊̚͜ả̸̺͉͉̔r̷̢̧̥̼̩̗̯̆̋̋̆̉̐̓̐̈́̔͐̕͝͝͝e̷̢̛͍̩̪̥̞͉͈͊͋̌̿̽͆̒̓̉̓ ̸̪̐͜a̷̡̨̨̭̖̪͚̲͉̻͂̊̕t̵̛̰̘̳̮͖̃̅̉ͅt̴̟̙͖̠̜̯̤̣̪̘̜̝̟̥́̓̆͗͌̋̽̊̈̽͠͝͝a̵̮͑͌̑̽̓̍̐͒̈́̆̐̔̋̆͂̀̚č̷̜̰̓̊̔̐̽̎ḧ̶̲͇̰̱̭̺͖̠̪̜́̇̄͠e̴̢̜͇̮͈̗͍͌́͐̈̍͛̏͒͐̒̋̃̀̈́͛d̵̥̟̺̯͕̱̮̭̫͓̝́͂͋̋́̎͂̉͘͜,̵̛͈̖͚̯̋̾̐͒ͅ”̷͇̥͓̪̦̌͑̿̈̚̕ͅ ̸̨̢̡͔͔̬̭̘̣̙̹̝̮̞̫͉̄͊ͅs̷̘̺̈́̈́͘͜h̶̩̳̖̦͓̭͔͔̗̰̓͂̈́̎̀̄̌͑e̴͓̬̞̝͇͙̰̤̜̭͈̘̗͙͉̣̓̏̈̚̕ ̴̈̀̈́͜ë̶̛̜͓͔̫͍́͊́͋̑͑̓̈́̀̈́̎̾̊̿͘x̸̧̠͓̘̟͍͉̭̬̣̺͙͎̠̭̑̓̆̆p̶͎̄̒̾͑͌͑̓̐͊͐̓͛l̷̢̢̛̜̻͖̞̥̜̇̑͌̽̉̿̾͐͊̒̉̂͗̕̚̚å̵̢̧̛͔̤̮͎͕̲̭̩̹̖͌͒̕͘͘͜͜͜͜i̸̧̢͈͍͖̜̟͓͚̺̹̫̰̰̼̓͂n̴͍͔̮̝͎̰͂̍̈̌̈́̎͊͆̕͠͝e̸̗̎d̸͙̫̱̭͖̝̒.̷̨̲̭̲̱̝̺͙̱̞̤̯̗̗̈́̍͑̀̋̈́͑͊͂͠͠ͅ ̷̛͙͇͌͆̾̈́̕̕T̶̡̨̥̯̜̬̪͕̜̫̖̮̤̄̒̂̎̄͆͒̂̽̓̒̚͘̚͜͜͝h̷̟͖̯̭̘̯̜̰̰͓͖̻̅̆̍͌͜͜͠ę̵̧̢̡͙̝̩̩̭̰̫̦̜͈̳̥͇̈́͛s̵̨̢̨̢̫̖͉̟͚̳̬̝͕̳̦͉̝̿̊e̸̹̯̝̳̘͎͓̖̙̯̰̥̪͇͎̥͊̊͋̊͌̂̄̈̽̍̐̄̐̎͜͝͠͝ ̴̛̬͚̪̪̖͙̟̝̪̈́͌́̑͋̀̏͛̋͐̌̐͊͜͝w̸̺̔̆͝e̴̬̳͍̘͔̻̞̼͔͗͌̂͗̆͒̽͌̏̄͝ͅr̴̭̜̩̼̐͗e̸̝̯͉̪͙̩͙̞̙͈̠̖̔͜ ̴̧̬̹̝̱̬̰̤͚͚̙̰̞̄̿̄i̸̫͍̩̟̮̓͑͂͂̅͌̓̅͒̎̕ș̷̝͚̯̳̊ͅö̸̡̨̼͇̼͇̦̺̟̺̘͍̱̜̫̈́̎͘̚l̴̨̛̞̜̞̰̹̱͋̈́͗͆͊͊̒́̃̉ą̶̨̛͍̯̥͉̝̙̞͋͋̌̊͒̀̎̓͂̄̀́̈́̀͠t̸̨̢̢̲̝͙̝͉̫͉̝̲͕͊́͘i̴̡̨̛̮̱̮̭̫̰̥̱̟̬̘͉͔͗͂͂̚o̴̢̟̠̯̫̻̝͍̯̘̭̗̟̪̰̐͠ͅņ̸̺̖͉͉̩̞̟̓̕͜,̸̡̹̫̬͚̙̖̖̼͆̋̓̾͜ ̶̧̡͓͚͓̯͍͚̰͍͙̠̩̮͖͓̈́͑̈́͌̑̅̑̐͐͑̀́͑̒̕͝ë̸̗̯͙͎̥̝̩̣́̔̄x̴̤̟̱̼͇̘͔͈̐̎̃̇̂́̔̃̾̌̐̚͝͝͝ţ̸͓͔͍̙̰̐̈͗ͅr̷̛̛͚̻̱̱̳̒͐̏̂̀͋̉̋̊͒̉̈͘͝͠e̶̝̳̣͉̬̥̯͙̗̰̒͆͐͒̇̉̌͆͂̎̔̋͋̈̚̚͘m̵̨̨̠͖͇̩͙̙̩͎̯̣͐̀̐̄̓̅e̴̡̫͖̖̖̬̩̩̥͂̎̾ ̵̬̤̭̺̈̂p̸̢̨̧̖̣͓̮̖͎̯̜͎̟͑͛͘ą̸̢̛̜͚̗̩̪͙̦̯͉̩̝͚̔̃͒͒̾̚ͅr̷̙͓̗̤̼̞̬͓͍̃͒̽͂̒̈̐̂́͐͒̄̚͝͠a̸̢̖͉̮͕̤̮̲̲̟̹̼͌̓͆̂̀̃̈́̃͛͗̐̒̈͠n̷̨̢̡̛̛̙̯̩͍̱̲͍̮̺̯̹͕̯͆͂͒̓̈́̐̓̍̈̏́̔̌ǫ̵͚͈͙̘̀̈̓̉̂̑̐̋͝͝i̵͎̖̤̮͖̪͍̘̗͈̬͕͖͈͗̐̇̄̿̔͊͊́̓͐̏͊̉̽̕͠a̴͔̺̰̠͔͔͙̹͉͙̍̿̓,̴͓̣̞̗̗͕̯̈́̀ ̸̧̟̘͔̪̤̜̲̘̎̊͑̽̑͠ͅa̶͙̟̻͛̀́͊̇̔̋̊̀͜͝ñ̵̨̧̮͙̠͙͙͓́̌̔̔̓̇̌̈͐̚̚̚͘͝͝d̶̡̧͔̟̙͙̘͕͈͌̏̽̿́͛̀̿̕͝ ̸̲̺͚̺͙̈́͑͛́̈́͊́̀̑͠ͅḑ̸͕̇̉̇͆̔̈͛͂̾̇͊̈́͠ë̶̢̨̜̫̝̯̤̲͈̲̭̱̗́͗͒͜a̵̛̘̥̓̐̄̽̓̍̉̃̈̀̾́̐̊͝͠t̷̡̡̰̖̖̗̩̜̥͕͕̗̖̻͋̈́͜ͅh̵̡̨͍̬̘̫̞͋̉̎͋͑̐͐̐̈̎̆̎͗.̷̙̰̼̞̺͙̽̆͐͜͠ ̵̬̹̟̪̤̀́͗T̸̨̗̮͇̖̼̱̹̳͎͖͋̆̓̅̿͜ͅḩ̷̙̺̘͙͍̬̖͓̃͌̊͠ͅe̶̛̞̭̣̰͍̳̽̾̂͌͗̐̊͊͝ ̶̡͓̠͈̺͇͓͗́̄̑͜g̶̜̍̔̌̈̀̀̐͘͠o̷̢͓̞̪̺̬̐d̵̢̝͍̱̒̊̐͌ͅd̶̢͎̫̮͕̖͚̟̗̂̓̒̔̾͐̽̏͒̇̕̚͜ͅè̴͐̎͜s̶̡̡͖͍̱̖̩͉͔͕͌̔͌̓̇̈́̓͘̕͜͠ş̵͚̙̦̩͇̙̝̞̥̰̮͓͔̮̰̪͒̕͠͝ ̴̧̧̧̥͙͔̞̪̼͍͍͙͋͌̊̂͛͘s̵̪̭̰̹̞̜̩̤̟̬̺͂̐̐̀̄̈́̒̅͗̄͛̕͝ͅa̴̢̡̘̠͇͎̫͙̱̦͎̭̰͚͛͐͊̊̀͂́̑͜į̶̘̗̥̲̬͙̱̈̐̋̀̄̈̾̏̏̆̅̕̚͠d̵̡͍̘̰̯̯͇̘̹͉̭̆̍́͑̌̓̿̃͆͑͐̋̚̕ ̴͈̱̬̙̞̾̊̆́̕͜a̸̧̗̟̮̼̖͔̼̮͔͓͆̈́̅̎̂̑̊͂̈́͂̈͑̀͘͘͜͜͠͠l̴͚͖̪̫̣̝̘͕̜͇̽̆́͒̈́̓̃̇̓̈́͝l̵̡̺̜̣̠͖͖͂̋͗̎̇̂͗̌̑ ̶̢̛̻͖̺͇̱̟̺̘̮̞͋̇̓̾̉̊̋́̾̂͛̆͆͐̈́͛o̸͕̟͖͈̬̤̠͗̌̓̉ͅf̵̡̨͍̺̻̩̜̱̲̼̻̣͍͎̤͓̓̓̈̈́̓̂͑̓͊ ̴̢̨̛̬̥̖͖̬̪̫̹̥̲̳̺̿̊͒̓̏̊͗͆̅̋̆͝ț̷̛̛͈̠̣̜͌̎̈́͌̆̆̑͋̅̉̎̽̋͠h̷̛̹̟̺̪̼̏̆͂̌͆̋̐̈́̋̈̐͝͝i̶̧̢̤̟̠̟̰͕͇̺̽́̂̓̓̎̒s̸̡̨͉̱͓͒̌͒̊̔̅͊̕̚ ̵̨̧̮̪͎͓͙̤̾t̶̛͓̩̊̾͆̊͂͊̓͊̎̌͂̌̃́͐͝ơ̵̡̦̦̲̞̳̫̦̦̣͓̹̼̯̩͔͊̐̍̓͗̈́̅͌̈́͋ ̸̡̙̜̠͍̪̭̫̙̬̭͇̲̻̙̓̈̌͑́̆̎̾̉̏͗̾͜͠͝ͅḋ̷̨̧̬̯̮̺͙͚̾̈́̍̈͝͝͝͠i̶̧̡͓̙̼̿͂̒̐͛͘͜͝s̸͇̘̒s̷̙̺̟͓̮̱̱͕̻͉̼̮̦̺͕̭͈̍̈̈͗̈́͗̑͂̄̎͗̕̕͘u̷͙͕̰͌ą̸̨̧̜̺̤̲͉͖͈̙̤̯̭̩͕͆͐̇̏̏͘d̴̢̧̩͉̞͓͖̙̫̜̼̠̟͕̏̊̈̄̊̐͆͋͐̉̓̿̂̂͘ę̷̨͈̹̬̹̘͈̖̝̮̹̼̳̞̈́̏̀̀̈̓̅̈́͝͝ ̴̛̺̯̲̖̠͆͂̈̒͌̅̀̅̚t̸̜̞͔̮͑̐̏h̸̢̧̛͓̳̳͇̣̝͍͖̩͓̤̩̎̈́́̅͒̀͐̐̀̏̄́͗̀͝͝e̶̗͉̙͉̙̫̞͉̜͇̜̬͊͆̆̊̋̅̀̕ ̸̟͈̟̬̯͎̮̩̦̰̰̞͈̲̙͋ͅm̷̡̬̪̹͕͖̟͕̺̞̙̘͕̠̥̓͌̿̌͋͐̚͜͜͝a̵͙͍̤͍͚̪͍̟̦̠̬̮͓̟͎̿̿͂̉̔̐͋̏̒͊͒͘͜ǹ̷̟͍̔͊̿͠,̴̢̢̛̪̱͈͖̤̬͕͔̪̮͖̰̬̌̂̏͂͗̓̓̐̋́͠ ̶̨͕̲̯̙̥̻͖͍̰͔͈̮̫́̏͗b̴̻̱̤̯͉̮̥͕͖̼̮͚̪͉͖̌̌̉̎̅u̶̧͉͓̘̲̎̎̀͘t̶̨̡̛̪̹̠̩͙͖̩͔̜͚̔̃̊̉͂͐͋̀̎̆́̚͜ ̴̢̡̯̻̺͎̺̺̫̜̞̼̺̟̈́̑̌͐́̓̐̎̆͆ḧ̴̙́̋ë̸̡͇̃͌̏̀̑̓̈́͋͑̑͂̕͠͠ ̴͚̳̣̝͖̗̘͋̈́̓̂̇̓̂́́̍̈́̕̕h̸̙͉̝͚͇͍͙͓̎̓̐̇͠ǎ̷̱̼̦̦͎̤͇̰̃̈́̓̾̃̈͑͝p̷̨̨̡̛̲͖͔̤̠̣͇͉̠̮̣͙̓͜ͅp̶̢̢̡̫̣͎͉͉̪̓̈́́̑͂̔̆͗̒̿̚̕̕ì̷̡̛̻̥͉̦̗̮̦͚̩̜̜͒͂͊́̑̉͗̋͌́ͅl̴̹͎͖̟̺̫̭̄̈͋̄̀͗̈́̀y̶̡̨͚̣̜̻̱͔̙̻̩̜͖̥̠̆̏̉̀̾͐̐̈́̈́́̒͒͌́̚̕̚͜ ̶̟̣̣̩͎̖̜͇͓̺͕̔̒̌͠a̶̹̙̬̫̥̱͎̎̑̈͑͌̅c̶̡͇͙̺̲̰̎̈́̄̌͌̕c̷͍̬̲͙̮͎̞̓̈́͐͜͠͝͠ę̶̜͎̦͉̝̹͈̬̱͇͙͊͊̽̌p̸̧̛̥͚̭̦̘̲͈̫̱̪̞̖̒́̓̒͐́̕͜͝͝ṭ̵̐̄͝e̴̢̛̤͉͖͎̿̾̇̌͘d̷̨͙̤̝̼̯̩͒̒̉͑͒͐͂̐͂̒̈́͜ ̵̡͔̗̠̈́̒̌͝t̸̺̘̱̱̠͓̯͊̐̃̋̆̍̈̇̿̅̓̚͝h̶̪̹͇͔̩̜̥͚̮̳͌͐́̀̑̆͂͆̿̽̓̃̈́̓̑̇͠é̶̲̘̮̮͙͈̯͙̔̽̽̏̇̀̈́͒̈̃̉͑͜͝͝ ̸̺͙̼̼͆̿̉ͅt̸̰̟̜̐͌͘ȩ̴̛͕̼̼̰̫̖̪̗̝͕̳͙̖̻̱̥͌̈́́̋̊̓̐̽̽́ŗ̴̛̛̼̖̺̦͚̻̫͋̏̔̔̌̑̍̓̽̅̔̊͆͘͠m̴̢̛̲̯͎̯͉̠̳̜̎͛̈́̋͑̎͒͒͆̓̄̇̈̈͜ş̶̡̟͚͔̤̗̩̹̬͇̮̜̑̅̓́͐̈́̈̿̂͂̎͝͠.̶̨̻̦̼͊̒́̿̾͂
̴̧̡̢̟̼̦̥̰̮͎̘̯̠̤̺̥͍͒͐̍͐͝

Artemisia woke from a nap to smell orange oil burning. The aroma floated in and poked at her nostrils through the gauze lining her hammock. She spun out of it and walked to the foyer of her home, expecting to greet a pupil from her archery school. Instead, she found a man praying there.

“Divine Artemis,” he muttered, “I want … to be … a master thief!” The man looked around in surprise as a melodic voice echoed.

“Why aren’t you praying for power and privilege?” asked the voice. The goddess herself was interrupting.

“Because,” replied the man. “I want the results.”

“I think you should aim higher,” was Artemisia’s response.

They talked for a while and the goddess realised that such ambition was beyond the man’s grasp. He did not realise that he was petitioning a goddess in her own home. And he certainly had no idea that because of this, Artemisia was compelled to grant his wish.

While bound to human form, she could offer any human a single gift. She told the man that someone else had it, but that she could help him steal it if he could get within arm’s length of that person.

“Conditions are attached,” she explained, without even revealing the identity of the current owner. These conditions were isolation, extreme paranoia, and death. The goddess said all of that to dissuade the man, but he happily accepted the terms.

Based on my retelling of the Greek myth of King Midas. WordPress is trying it with me. I am not sure what is causing the engagement on my posts to drop, so I am going to PLAY!!!

Categories
about me art writing

That went well…

Hello everyone, I went and did another thing. Sabiscuit’s Catalog is now Saint Joan, a creative studio which will be work and/or play. It is evolving. Welcome, in every language.

Saint Joan Creative Studio by Lily Nicole
Saint Joan : Creative Studio

But, to be clear, I have done several things. One was to set my blog to private after WordPress said they were going to publish posts from other bloggers here. It was going to be a matter of time before some antisocial idiot ended up next to my art work.

Signed, sealed, delivered ….

During the break, I was writing a lot of scenes for my upcoming creative project. While doing some research on a character, I went so far down the digital rabbit hole, that when I shook myself awake, it was a brand new year.

Don’t get me started on what has happened already. I left you alone for three months and you bring dogecoin back? Not to mention, amid the mayhem on Wall Street, Demi Moore managed to break the Internet. This tells you that star power is real. Because, let’s be honest, how many of you wear $600 Fendi tights?

Saint Joan  Creative Studio by Lily Nicole
Creative Studio – I love books and retro stuff

Miraculously, after eight frustrating months, WordPress has finally allowed me to upgrade to my own domain. I am grateful for the buffer of time. This domain, saintjoan.studio, is named for the Congregation of St. Joan, an orthodox religion I created for my first novel, The Quarter Percent. It was referenced only once in the final chapter. However, a breakaway sect called St. Joan’s Parish is featured in the next novel. Special thanks go to Draculauren for interviewing me about both projects last year. It was a fun experience.

After brainstorming ideas, I thought the church needed a governing body that behaved like it was running a global sportswear brand. When I thought of the outrage this concept would induce, I decided to bring the Blessed Lady into this timeline.

How are you all doing? Please let me know.

Categories
poem poetry writing

Dominae Sol serenat omnia

aikyo to aikyo 2019 postcard of oil on canvas painting by Anna Ishii
あいきょうとあいきょう

Dominae Sol serenat omnia

Dominae Sol serenat omnia - Latin poem based on the Mediaeval Latin verses in the Codex Buranus.

Based on Mediaeval Latin verses in the Codex Buranus. Below, you will see the English translation.

The Sun is my Empress, She shines over everything

I was tempted to put the full text here. However, I remembered that Chrome’s translation software would chew it up. I hope the two images render without any issues. If there are any, let me know. The raw text is available, so please contact me if you would like to have it.

Image: Postcard I received recently of Anna Ishii’s 2019 work, “Charming and mesmerising” – 193 cm x 193 cm oil on canvas.

Categories
art creative writing fiction writing

Accession

In a previous post, I mentioned that I was writing a coronation scene for a new novel. The story is set in 2033, and unfolds in the same universe as The Quarter Percent. We follow events from three perspectives. One belongs to Sebastian Sax-Gault, who happens to be a nephew of Cordial’s.

Whereas it hath pleased our Most Blessed Lady to recall to us Her glorious memory in the noble crown which is solely and rightfully come to the High Prince Carroll Patrice Saints Maud et Agnes:

Still drafting, but I know how the story ends. In the very last scene, after a bombshell revelation the previous evening, a hush falls over the nation on Coronation Day. The new monarch is Sebastian’s bestie, 35-year-old Carroll. In this draft of the story, Carroll’s father is still alive, so the proclamation of accession has to take place at the coronation.

Proclamation of accession (fiction).

By this point in the story, we have eavesdropped on meetings and know that the coronation will be stripped of pomp and pageantry. Sebastian has been asked to whittle down the government’s expenditure on the ceremony to mere shillings. The ceremony is a reckoning with the public which, after a display of hubris, has completely lost face. Nonetheless, the ordeal has been humiliating for Carroll.

Bless and sanctify thy servant Carroll, Inheritor of this realm, who we anoint and consecrate King. Imbue him with the wisdom of the Mighty Reformer Jonas, as we, with one voice, proclaim him King, Servant and Steward, with hearty and weighty affection.

The proclamation text is based on EIIR’s 1952 accession and 1953 coronation. (Read a short story inspired by the latter). As mentioned in that earlier post, Google was reading over my shoulder and recommended gospel music to me on YouTube. I made some artwork to display the text that was misunderstood. I hope you like it.

Note: This post was originally intended for publication on this date, 09/20, but I moved it up a week. I moved it back here to make way for a different post. Thank you for your attention, as always. Header image: Izrael Poznanski Palace in Lodz, Poland, by Jacques Bopp, via Unsplash. Concept art: “Accession proclamation for King Carroll”, Posca watercolour pens, and Pilot Juice metallic ink on matte/glossy magazine paper.

Categories
poem poetry writing

Beatitudes

Go out in the morning,
into the tabernacles and the courts.
Blessed are the souls that receive you;
they will be comforted.
Do not faint from toil; find rest
in mine house. Sleep, and see
a mystery in the early moments,
before the trumpets will sound.
Continue to the city, touching
all who praise thee for thy works.
Blessed are the faithful that rejoice
in thy labour; they will obtain
gladness even until the latter rain.

I will not age
nor show how frail I am,
nor let the flower of my glory fall away.
Yea, I will bless them that sow in joy
and wait to taste the bounteous supper.
Mine riches shall I heap upon their heads.

Therefore, feel not disquiet,
but hope. Walk in righteousness,
and be worthy. Weep not for days,
but return to me. And measure not
my devotion in a handsbreadth;
surely, it will endure
forever.

🌺

Thank you, everyone, for your encouraging words on my last post. This poem is based on Johannes Brahms’ Ein Deutsches Requiem (A German Requiem). English text: King James Bible. Original image: Nghia Do Thanh. Musical inspiration: Junkie XL’s Brothers in arms.

Categories
about me creative writing opinion writing

Better is one day

Better is one day, from Hymn by Sarah Brightman

Therapy is working. I had to complain to my therapist about this because, for two weeks, I have been staring at a wall of text that usually my brain would gather up and frappé into a poem.

However, my therapist and I have worked out my underlying issues. The stuff that was causing me to be codependent, passive-aggressive, resentful, angry, and vindictive had helped me to write poetry. There is no better way to cloak my hostility or deny my own needs. Now, the magic is gone. Nice job, doctor. 

I am able to confidently state my needs, and sometimes that involves screaming to the world that I’m not okay. This always happens when I am in traffic on Sundays, but I think that’s true for everyone. Anyway, she says I need to ping my brain with music. I say that it is a meditative process that only works for writing prose fiction. We also talk about feeling sad about the tragic passing of someone we all know.

After that conversation, I swear to Jesus, I went to YouTube and I see Sarah Brightman posed like the Columbia Torch Lady. I had no idea that she released an album in 2018. I listened out of curiosity, and realised that YouTube did not suggest this to me before because I avoid songs that praise the Lord Almighty, in English. I made a face at first, but it stuck and I had to play it again. The song is based on A German Requiem by Brahms. It sounds uplifting, cheerful, and transporting.

How did this happen? Google’s neural networks are getting better at listening to my private chats (!) and/or analysing my emails. I strongly suspect the latter because yesterday, I emailed myself the ecclesiastical portion of a coronation scene that I am writing. It’s for a new novel, but the machine believes that I’m Catholic or something. Oops.

I love the song. And I still can’t write poetry.

Categories
art creative writing poetry women

Psycho Fan

One is a crowd.

My addiction of choice is your past.
Its powerful spell makes me anxious,
creates a tension that is so deep.
You are cocky and terrific. Grinding
right there is the hardest thing in the world.
But your stuff was beautiful and
the consummation was
a thing of enchantment.
I genuflect under control.

The second half makes me want to get
squelched so fast into several pews.
The three-part thing was so spontaneous.
You are a pretty raw wonder. You did
something really special with your stick.
Took a minute for it to sink in.
Just love to picture it.

How beautiful to know
it all works inside me.
Truthfully, strong man, morality
is all stupidity and foolishness.
I think I’m pouting, yet taking it
painfully is humbling.

Always,
Psycho Fan

The comments remind me of a time when humans had a sense of humour and understood sarcasm. Originally published May 25, 2015. Image by Diana Vartanova via Unsplash.

P.S. Still unable to see any notifications for this post five hours after posting. Please leave a comment so I can holler at you.