T̏͑ͬ̎ͥo̢̮͒̉͌ ̘̼͙͇̲͙̻͗̀͊̚i̡͚͔̺̋͑ͮ͑ͤͅnͬ̉v̡̱͕̤̥͓͎ͭ̌̏ͪ͂o̱͉̞̘͛k͙͙̆̿ͬ̽e̩ͨͩ ̹̜̞̰̮̉͌͗̆͑̈́t̛͙̳ͨͯ͛ͮͭ̒̉ḩ̓̓e̮̻̥̱̦̤̟͐ͮ̓ ̟ͭ̔ͤ̐͂ͥhͣ̆̐ͥi͇̹̻͚͈͑̋̊̉̄ͤ́v͍͖̠e̼͖̰̟̝-̜͔͇̰͉̯͉̈m̫̜͎̩͓̺͈ͨ̒͒͆̐i̟͊̋̇̀n̄̀̅̅̊d̯͇̤͚͍̖ͪ̈̿̓͋ͫ ̯̾ͤ͒ͪ̊̍̚͜r̭͖̭͙̿͆̈̕e̹͈̮͙͑́̌̅͗̌p̚͏͇̖͇r͔̮͌̿e͉̞͂ͫs̳̖̻̅ͮ̓̑͗͐̚͝ȩ͆ͯ͛̀̌ň̷̬͓̪̜̣̞t̮̮̳̲͎̦͍i͗̊̈̈́͐́̉̕n̓͋͑͛͊͝gͥ̎͛̿ͨ͝ ̡̰̖͉̰̠̟̫͌c̯̻ͯͦͬ̀͟h͐́͜a̵̮͇̗̘̜ͣ́̽ͭ̈ͥͅȏ͔͚̻̣̰̂s̲͚̟̐̈͐ͩ͗.̗̹̍ͭ̂͒̑͂̕ͅ ̲͔͉̮̰̰̞̈͝
̦̻̰̙́I̢̘̣̹̼̙̥ͦ͑̆̓͐n̴̬v͙̻̝͌́̚o͊ͪ͛ͦ͏͚͖̫k̘̃ͩ̄ͦͥ̎̚ͅi̤͎̖͖̲̝͊ṅ̹̥̭̫̤̘͙ͩͣg̫ͅ ̘̠̥̯͍͕̲ͥͯͫt̻̖̣̻̭́ͬ̽͞h̬̘̟̲͔̊̆è͔ͯ̌̇ ̺̥̈̐̊̓͒͒͂f̉e̺̻̮̍̈e̊̈ͯͤ̉̽l̫͛̔͐i̦͇̜̖ͮͪ̽ͅn̫̞͇̹̠̠͂g̝ͨ ̫͚̗̟ͮͪ̄̔́̇̓o͍̲̙̩̙͍ͯ̇̆̋̓̐ͧͅf̛̪͉̳̈́̈̉ c͊ͦͯ̂̑͛ͥ̕h̳̹̩̠͍̘̔̚ä͛͑̀̚ǒ̸͍ͩͣ́s̟̠͊ͤ͗̉.͙ͯͣ̓͊ ͕͉͕̺̚
̪͆̈́̓ͦ̏́ͅW̛̱̲͗̆̒̐ĩ͔̇ͩͮ͑t̝̜̫̳̥͍͔h̸̻͕̳̘̪̺͒͊ͨ͐ͤ̚ ̢̞̞̤̓ͮ̑ͫ̉̿̿ͅo͖̩̤ú̋̍ͥ̚̚t̵̜̱̣̣̤̻ ̵͎͖̳̻͈ͩ͛ͤo̠͎͈̎͠r̗̜̩̱̓ͬd̨̞̟͓̭̲̦̋̀ͬe̺̊ͦ̈͋r̥̼̅ͣͧ̅̐.̅ͦ͞ ̲̭̪̣͆͋̌̈
͔̣̝T̙̟ͯh̥͆ͤͧe̫̜̙ͬ ̟͙̦b͓̗͕̯ͧͣͬlͧ̃̚ô͓͍̪̗̜̼̭̔̋̈́͠g̶̩̬̜̖̦̑́g̘̭̟͓͔̠ͧ͒͆̒͂̐̈́e̗͚͓̽̆͆̄ṟ̓ ̓h̽̿ͬi͢v̧͉̘͓̰͉̦̙̓ͯé̳̗͙͇͍͂̇̑͝-̱͆̎̃̓m̢͍̜͎̪͋͊̓ͧ͗̓̍ì̘ͩͨ̉ͪņͫd̸̫̯̖̅̈́̑ ̔̅̍̐̽o̺̹͍ͤͩ̊f̴̖̱̣̝̭̖̜ͭ̄̎̑͛͛͗ ͕̪͕̈̅ͧͮ̐ͣc̶̠̯͔̗̫̞ͩͧ̋͊ͯ̚ͅh̠͓̪̹̼̰́ͯ̇̉͘aͪ̔o͉̩̣̗̳͚̖ͤ̇̓͛s̞̥̺̀̓͝.̡͍̱̹͗̇̐ ̶̤ͣ̋̒́̐͛ͅN̢͉̝͒ͣ͗̓̽̆o̿v̙͎͈̙̜ͨͧȧ̪̠̗J̉̔̃͟i̩̇̔̄̂n̖ͮx̢͉̖͖ͥ̆̽̍.̞̫͎͉̹̾ͪ͒ ̗̭͔̋̓̅͆͑͑̍ ̷̥
̺͍̭̺̘̭͓̎̑̄H̤̱̞̣̪̤̄͗͊͋e̶͚̼̓͒̅ ͚̲̲̲͌͑̀͋͒̎̂w̛̜̥̟̔͂̍h̢͚̬̭͋ͥͪͧ͋̈́ͥo̧̙͙ͣ̿ ̞̦̘̖͓̳ͧ̽W̝̐̏̃ͬ̾͢ḁ̞͇ͪ̃̆̓̿̆͗i̵̠̼̻̞̺͛̅ͩͤ́ͪt̳̠ͯ̕š̟͒̃̊ͫ̅ͫ ̸̟̼̜̟̖̝̺̎̌ͤ̉̿̓B̩̫̃͑e̴̘̫̥̝̒̍hͤ̔͑ͩi̠̯̫̮̯̠̎͊̃̐ͤ̏n͓̗̱̥͍̪͉͑̽ͧ͐͂ͨ̒̀d̅̒ͧ̋̌̈́ ͔͎̖̬̭͆͌̀ͦͣ̚T͈͔͖̗̻̓ͯ͗͆͆̚̚h͙͇̋͗̂ͥͣ̏́e̛͖̦̱̰̿̓̍ ̱̮̺̎͌̚S̩͖̼͐̃͂͢c͖̻ͫ̓͒͂̑ͧṟ͎̬̂͆̐̒̈̌́e͔̯̦̝̙̯̲̊ȩ̩͙n̬̦͔ͥ̂͛ͥͫ́.̬̗͈̖̹̓ ̶͙͉̜͈̋̈͊ͧ̍
͇̤͔̊̈́̚J̔ͭ̓ͧ͌̆҉̬ͅI̎̀Ǹ͚ͬ͗́X̳̻̯͖̭͈͕̎ͫ̄̚̕
“Weird tale”-
The story I am about to relate, though constructed on a framework of fiction, is nevertheless symbolic of certain phenomena based in reality. Furthermore, I predict that, when the words here graven have been amplified, they will begin their transformation into truth.
”Wired tale”-
Every event serves to emphasize the existence of one’s own personal reality, and as individuals separate from all others, we desire a place to belong.
However, that, too, is but an egoistical concept. In order for there to be mutual understanding, it is necessary to recognize here and now that, like the brain synapses, we are all – in a logical yet chaotic manner – blogging.
Nova is jinx. Jinx is nova.
Each is separate – yet they are one.
By blogging, humanity gains first awareness of its function as a seed.
By blogging, a human no longer remains a mere endpoint, a ”terminus,” but becomes a junction to another point, having won the right to serialize itself.
The ability to blog is the ability to continue – they are one and the same.
This not only applies to the blogging of axial coordinates but temporal coordinates as well. Therefore, at the time when a conscious, intentional blog is made, surely the dead will rise from their intended place, appearing at the time coordinate of the blog’s origin.
In that moment, the realization shall dawn that the time in which we inhabit out physical bodies is but the starting point of blog, and the very meaning of possessing a physical body at all shall be questioned.
You must not fear this tale.
What you must fear – is nova.
Recognize that you are blogging.
Serialize thyself.
I will not respond to any advertising or link exchange inquiries. No ads here, not now, not ever.
Do not send me pointless emails. You liked something here, I don’t care to know. Leave a comment. Don’t fucking email me. God damnit.
Images posted on this site are copyrights of their owners, whoever they may be. Copyrighted images will be removed upon request.
“This site is absolutely not designed to show correctly on Internet Explorer.”
Wait, wait what? B-but I see the site working well on IE–*crashes*
Oh wow, I didn’t even know this had comments enabled. I haven’t paid any attention to this page for two years. It sure shows but I absolutely hate writing this kind of stuff.
Dat Lain reference.