Film Director

One neighbour had an uncanny hand in contrast to Clark's skin. "The objects were sentient because they helped me communicate with the team back then." "Here, we have leylines that composes the uncanny valleywhich could lead to something," said Clark, all of this on his mind. I have to lay low as a spy. They are called The Neighbours, and they weren't afraid as out of 125 floors, I'm in the 34th room. I'm safe in the man-made hole, but climbing up to get the lone flag is a challenge. "Grrr! Argh! Growls!" noises coming from these anomalies. The best things were obsidians everywhere, both benefiting from freezing the monsters and refuel connection dual to the mirror. "But my time here is limited. The light at the top has no window," Clark without a choice beated the inverse law by going through the pyramid solving puzzles, each next stairs wasn't targeted by these mummies. On one occasion, a mummy grabbed a hold of me, just like a real-time show, my energy was suppressed by the researchers covering my body's energy. "This isn't red light," I telephoned the researchers. My eyeglasses dreamlike as the pond of dead babies below the building helped in detecting monsters. Caged parallels on the ground similar to the opposite world can easily be seen with my silhouette. We wanted to figure out the truth suppressed by the cage. I can't go back down there since The Neighbours ruined architecture downwards, "We're gonna distract the Neighbours for you. Make sure you don't get any existential crisis," the team alerted me." "No. I won't." Clark confronting dread hidden between being solitary and the mummies not-so-scary standing together, took on a stance in this huge mansion. I have this particular ring that can freeze the windows of this place. "We have a monster coming your way," I heard the team checking in on me, my reply was the leylines down here mapped the outside's. Only the 3rd floor had no curves in this place. It's to the liking of the battle. All The Neighbours don't hold any secrets like this, pebbles lied down on the floor are possibly by further creatures back then. But if The Neighbours stayed up there, they must have fought for escape. There were no ancient technology here to help me get back up. Asides from the contraption that got me thinking to shelter here till the ring recharges, there's a monster egg near the pond. Maybe that is food for the creatures. Why did the mummies allow such a thing to happen? I zipped back up returning more obsidians to the mirror just when the 17th floor appeared a pharaoh. She was holding a crook and flail waving back and forth. I'm on the run, she's on my tail. "Report. Our agent is being hunted down. Delay program." "Increase red light transmission," the plane was glowing red, but I could hear their voices near the stairs. No surprise the inverse law required a ruler, I'm now at the top. Around me, were landscapes of tunnels filled with secrets. They're connected through the real world's leylines. Let's go on an adventure.

19.7.26

Jack had a fight with the lab members and was about to get attacked at home. His superpowers originated when an antenna malfunction transmitted electromagnetic signals onto his body. "That was when I understood something about those organizations. This chemical race wasn't compatible," said Jack several days later. Bartner, smiling, in his lab that he'd re-engineered, used antennas from the accident to crank it stronger through electrical waves. But with his recharged powers upon returning to the broken reflected glasses main hall of the lab, Barter tried to capitalize on his power source. Jack's source, however, was interrupted several times, included the first problem sending energy from the echo chamber. After a few more, the organizations really did backfire on this lab members. Bart knew Jack can flash reflections from kilometers away, so other friends of his support his use for that power, seeing his attempts of trying to be a hero. The compatibility between quitting this project and supporting his superpowers were warned by Jack to not take the deal. As they are in trouble, hero tome is near soon. There are multiple power sources tracked by his daily usage, except the heat outlets felt different with different frequencies. The bulbs seen by Jack and traumatized his identity crisis as he spotted it on a rest subject. "This was a setup. The outlets aren't even identical at all." "You're costing the heat," yelled the lab members, they're going through waves right now not realizing the orgs wanted his compact power, and they're diverting the power source. Some members murmured, "The antenna on his head is also a way to detect radio technology." Another mentioned "We shouldn't have shut down this project." Jack jumped from the edge of a eoom, shouted while rushing to save the test subject with his friends detonation slinkies all over the place. They're being avenged and let in all the deal details. What it would cost Jack to not aim by this strength, fearing the potential of the echo chamber, the lab members and members were blasted out of the place in the process, due to the magnitude of the bulbs, Bartnerr was furiously standing at the nuclear core. "All were okay, they out of the rubbles appeared Bartner. "You! I knew you were just probably as useless if I have the echo chamber. I'll finish you all of," came with an inhumane grin on his face. Bartner attacks with electric belts, shockwaves, and laser beams at the scene. Dodging around to maneuver him till it somehow goes rogue which Jack wants to stop this sooner, couldn't. "You fool! No!," screamed Jack loudly. The energy overheated, glitching his biological system leading to an explosion. "Well, if you ever want to research on that again, I guess we can...." "That killed him." " "We should shut it down from the top, Jack and the others catch themselves talking out of the stark landscape.

17.7.26

The police noticed the clock on the thieves were different. During the clock tower being guarded against a bunch of criminals, people relied on this giant as time was changed, literally. Our detective, a woman in a store, worked as a clerk full of time pieces lying everywhere around. In the Grandfather's clock, the polices were impressed with its mechanics and furniture decoratives. Too sad it was taken down. Now that it's being investigated, her spouse ran back to her workplace whereas her not having yet a choice to leave in pursuit for the investigation. The polices' sensor couldn't put all the evidence, it can be like a crazy second 9/11. "Less is more," a design poster wrote on Anns' wall. This was happening in 6 parts of the town. The latest technology was all she had, and one had a dial-in feature. The scene of her and her lover holding hands brought close to their minds. They both thought of how the thieves were planning to do this takeover, before the midnight slipper ends. Ann's thought of the idea to use watches for guarding the area, so she contacted the police in advance. "Here are the time codes," Anns said as Mr. Watkinson is rushing down the street on his bicycle, the sign on the billboards appears as he wasn't keeping watch. "A watch cost $25? We'll take it," muttered the polices. For some weird reason, the store's camera lenses couldn't be properly checked, and the register's problem relied on her husband's skill. Each wristwatch has a caseback cashback number that detectives used. The robbery happened a while back, but rather safe now, Mr. Watkinson arrived to get her, she was seen running from the store. "Are you alright"? yelled Anns' husband. He took out his broken watch necklace and hand it over to her. "Yes. The securities knew those criminals were trying to stage death so that—" Mr. Watkinson shocked at her words and took out one of her sleek design store's rolex, timed when the thieves would hand themselves in. It transformed the goosechase. Suddenly, the repair on Big Ben was happening underway as the chase happens. Anns went to report the missing watches, not knowing what would happen to her beloved. The bell rang, he worked, and she worked, they spent their times mostly at their stores. The metal surface on his watch was at London Tower coveted frostbite, unstrapped, the cutter took him while he wasn't watching. After the chase attempts, the polices lost because the man and detective that helped then so dearly, they glossed over his life. Anns cried that day, his time ran out the moment she left that the thieves were coordinating everything from there. They returned back to the crime scene, now they don't understand why the tourbillon in those towns' parts were changed. It was a fundamental change for all their timezones. But they were all arrested. The heist, put to an end, but her feelings won't ever change. Casted away in time, heightened on cloud nine. Her grandfather's clock, he brought it to both of them in Mays' winter 1930s. It was placed at a seat in a scenery of the store. Moments in time, they'd talk about relativity, the designs of the clock's hands, ornamental structures, and digital technology and such. One time, he observed how long she could watch him without rolling her eyes away.

14.7.26

I'm a cyborg. Only this can get people paid. The futurama in this dystopian world relied on that face, not too long would my arm become useful. Thanks to those in the underground, they're known as RATS, short for Revolutionary Agents of The Scavengerz. We've had many, and many scavengers who resisted this futuristic game. I foresaw all of this during my coma. "Where am I? A-Am I awake?", Carl uttered in disbelief, "I will head into a lab fight soon...." The cameras started stalking him. I woke up to a chip installed on my right prosthetic arm. "Yeah, that smithing hammer must have done a ton on me", sadly Carl was fighting a mutant flower which reduced his arm's strength that caused this incident to happen." An error virus has infiltrated the city. Repeat. An error vi—", the alarm blared, and people are panicking! I hurried out somehow knowing this device can access the door's interface. "Machine has stopped working", the head-ups shouted angrily in defense of against the tech organizations protesting. "But what about—", I didn't know what to do except with my ability to pause tracks for 5 seconds. Carl brilliantly escaped the manic situation, trying to run to his leaders' lab. As he looked back, these people got stuck. The alarm blared "Everyone, remove your parts to help refill the portal! We need to stabilize!" "Sir, we have a nuclear red sunflower heading down this fac—gasps!" The RATS heard the general shrieked, "We're definitely heading there for a good one". Carl realized in his dream that soon iron will be more scarce, messaging everyone he knew even suspiciously with them believing in him, he arrived at the lab. The notes about the robotics technology, "No one wants cyrogenic prosthetics anymore. We're falling out.", keywords a note written on a wallpaper. They had a deal. Now all the plugs are pulled. No one knows who's right or wrong anymore. A giant plant broke the doors, I turned my back behind fighting the chip that should be immune to attacks. These creatures were something else. At the last brink second, I broke my right arm again just to blow up it's head. I won, but my arm... It grew into a mutated arm. Immediately, the portals couldn't hold anymore. There goes the brand of this company. The RATS took advantage of this opportunity. "That's a very good arm you got there," I replied back with "But sadly, this is an amped-mutated arm. It was stronger." They all quickly realized the situation. Carl jumped out of the tower with a typewriter in his left arm sliding down the pursuit towards the soccer match. He destroyed the referee drones. Everything looked exactly just like in his dream. It started snowing. Looks like a noir scene. I'm enjoying the view. The linking elevators disconnected the bubble rooms. "Containment Breach! Alert!" was heard everywhere. There's a brick in the wall. My mutant arm slid across the wooden surface of the trees. I found freedom. Later I'd write books about the dystopia for years to come. Humanity flowed in this direction, without resistance, seeing the dystopian to the end. We have gravely lost the likes of the lines blurred between what is human and artificial kind fiction.

10.7.26

The daughter was the last to inherit his place. Value changes over time, but Father's regeneration was caged, and we all eavesdropping on it. Behind that sliding door, the statue miniatures inside were all made by us. "These were what I believed to be the tale like the Zen patches I read in my room", Bert told his story. To the empty place rearranged like that death on the train, Bert was the driver. I was faking the other route, speeding up, then suddenly I heard screams and knives sounds coming from the back. My family were in shock, if only they had stayed low. My daughter's statue is a gold one. The house's price is only as high as silver. Everything turned noir around me as the house stayed in abandoned condition. These people look down on you a lot, you know. Especially if you're rich. The dead can't bring anything with them. "I sure wished they could have had my house", Bert said as he walked around the Japanese garden. I played with the koi fishes for a while. "This nature scenery brings me back", Margaret sighed at the reliving experience, seeing the money in the gutter averted by her eyes just now. Mother and the other 3 are sitting on the tatami mat having matcha algae tea, at times they'd come around the veranda, still water or the garden. "Why did you place an offering on a pine tree?", I still wondered to this day lonely from PTSD. "Hey! Come get your rake!", my little brother shouted. Rightfully as Father would, but I always don't understand about the claw incident here, I continued to mow the garden. "I'm the gardener", Bert remembered, laughing to himself using the rake to slice and dice against someone in imagination. "The motorbike was the assassin." "I was part of a ninja clan." "The train crash was the biker", words came out of Bert's utterly speechless rant. On the other side, the family brought him those foods he loved so much at the inn. Besides his bungalow laid an article of his family passed away from his bed. "My daughter won't be buried. If anything, I would sell all I can to get my family back", this moment expressed intense heavy longing for him, autumn's thunder rain surrounded the forest cage. He made it to protect the house from intruders. The ninjas, gone after the decoy with a price or $100K while flashes of thunder fought back the gardeners. Reflections are refreshing, such as the net pull in the bushes—"Boo!" "Hahaha!", the youngest brother warned his brother not to scare him like that. Days later, contractors fished down the house, with all the foliage, amber, shrubs, they spotted a metallic samurai weapon. Margaret took it with her, letting out a slight cough. Bert still has all the things he has achieved despite reflecting upon this story. "I hope all of this is enough to see her again".

8.7.26

We found each other by a candlelit. Before that happened, the navigator on my item was wanted by the nomads, so I had no choice but to escape them first. The colonizing infantry was built off of the viking community who happened to become silent. Last thing I knew I was trading for this item. HP potions are very expensive, and in this world lies a villain in a scriptorium. He prepared items for colonies, especially vikings, to strike other ones. But we're trying to escape the island. There's an infection across the globe with infantries losing their threshold. As such, everyone first started to decolonize. But now I'm stuck here for a while. James is coming for me. James tried using his navigator as a castaway despite the map not activating. I looked outside with James nearby the outpost. The colonies and the now nomadic groups are heading into worldscar. While waiting, I only have a sheath. Couldn't stay here, eventually now I've ended up like this but worse vikings that sacrificed in the name of their God. The battle is starting to wear out, an opportunity approaches. Since James has a few HP potions, he can only cool himself off for a few bare minutes when rescuing me. James thought, "I'm gonna get you out of there this time. Those bastarfs. It's now all the way to the echorealm". James got abused by his caretakers, earning some dime in a brew. While the villain was slowly plotting all of this up, the colonies were in vain. We're going to head to a longhouse off the coast, a place where there's fungus, one of the deadliest things not sold. James successfully broke in, just at the right timing where vikings' comes lines got cut off by the Nomads. "Are they insane? They're trying to bring back Worldscar", yelled John. The nomads readily prepared for the villain. In their veil zone, the villain has been searching for a pot to highest bidder, but instead used the vikings' meeting enclave as a trap. "They're gonna invite the other colonies?", James reacted to my statement, "Say what?!". Growing up here, all we ever knew was that neither wanted to have their community globalized, the alleys were where we traded our items through a crevasse. Suddenly, the building exploded with screams and soldiers yelling in the corridors behind us. Only the villain appeared, but we didn't get to see him. The vikings' head was brought down. We didn't hear anything about the meeting. So we stayed and waited instead. John and I knew the longhouse I lived in had something we can capitalize on. These lost soldiers are definitely going back to the dead. We talked and enjoyed our time. John worked as a potter.

7.7.26

A young boy, wanted to see something, after being with his friends, ventured out unintentionally into a fantasy forest. It started all with a fog while he wasn't looking, and this fig was known as the human-consuming fog. Till elsewhere, he was out and about looking over the veiled canopy that his parents wouldn't let him go. Lost on his train tracks, he looked out of the forest's windows. He was in a willow forest. The deeper water below him is damp and sinking at a slow rate. He needs shelter desperately. The young boy, still curious about what happened in the not-so heavy fog, is now on his first day of getting lost. The woods were filled with drooping branches, floating bubbles, and giant broken branches that would serve from time to time to anchor him faster on wooden shore. As branching can stick out with the willow leaves used as ropes to pull, our young lad managed to gather some fruits, but the whispers left by the leaves said the fruits weren't ripe. So morning came. He was exhausted without realizing leaves were covering his body during sleep. On the second day, it was desperate for him. He couldn't eat during the day. Had to be on the move. A ghost trail behind him because the seasons were changing. Soon, he tried to familiarize himself with the forest. The branches would droop when something is off. Inside these branches lived fairies. He doesn't seem to change anything with his trail nor did the filtered sunlight helped besides providing him stamina. The flowers'd glow at night along with the fireflies that would distinguish into a tree if dead by the tree. On this day, he was on one side of the forest where there's a road path. A lodge is decorated in spring. He realized the trail into the forest had been leading him elsewhere. To keep him company, our young lad spent some time with the fairies. He stopped drifting along troubles with the environment. These deeper waters had better giant trees which on one occasion, he got stuck onto it. The fairies are scared of the woman. The woman got closer. "Oh boy! Don't you want to come visit me sometimes", shrieked the ghoul. Will-o'-the-wisp, this is the theme he knew he got himself into. "What on earth are you guys saying you were the trunk!", James exclaimed. This place was so brightly filled with sunlight than the fireflies at night. Surely James can't sleep at night after hearing that awful voice. We don't know why the woman wanted him, but James near the old building that existed here started building houses and structures for the forest. The siren sound disappeared. And a bridge appeared. It was the third day, the other side of the world looked like a mirrored double. He can come back here whenever he wants. The forest gave him introspection. As he got older, he'd come back here, living with the fairies, proceeding to help his fellow neighbour fairies.

30.06.26.

Racial features that outclass races fighting for a certain currency. In this world, it wasn't appreciated if you didn't move society. Benefiting from throwing away things, Lewis was just some ordinary lazy guy. But they were more than guys. They're the Clenetians. The Triams. Besides having houses on high terrains, the Laownes play dirty as undercave people they are. They would hoard, any items with value, through without lighting in the underground field, to the superior class bringing gifts as Santa. But belongings, those fallen in battle, Lewis took backstreet of people with racism events. And Lewis went down a Laownes' alley that the higher classes would avoid. The Clenetians discussed on going towards a 4th tier species in a room. Meanwhile, everyday Lewis compared to yesterday Lewis, got caught in an earthquake and is now in a threatening empty space. He saw, a pink room, a white room discarded by the higher ups, which were the lower classes. Back in his house at a street corner later, Lewis is a Laownes, the lost and found. He has broken guitars, gardening tools, photos and frames, artifacts, neon lights, window glasses lying all over the place in his house's vicinity. Computers can be built from all these pieces like LEGOs. Lewis was living on the lines. As the geography would have it, doomsday was imminent if longer would it appear to turn into a deserted beach like one. The junk gets thrown into the lawn. Lower creatures go through pile of bodies for weapons got Lewis scared of joining them. Lewis despised the racist world between beautiful people and ugliness. Not to natural beauty, the Clenetians consumed lighter equipment. Uses electrical outlets for boosting energy. The only thing he'd put up there for sale were washing machines on the roof. However, in the corner of his tiny hallway, plants were mutated and living. Lewis knew the objects caused them body forms stronger than armored shirts wasted by the Triams. Lewis tried to return some of these weapons-of-value. A crate box of weapons were sold not in this world, recently, lowered the moral value running for our lives. Lewis went to hide in the shrubs overgrown in his bathroom as an accident took place. The subway station below him got shaked by an earthquake. This warded the lower creatures off, and everyone was angry. This was a stake for the dogs. Lewis saw the vile garbage posed by the Godzilla, inspired him to bring his play. They died becoming useless space on the flower beds with squiggly tentacles near the ears fenced. Lewis eats the items and floor tiles previously used in his house without using using rough skin to fight the Clenetian's flowery, slender features. He lost a head. Out of disgrace, Lewis transformed his slumped posture with a cost. Waiting to be now attacked, they all have a Santa's wreath gifting for them. Doomsday's here. The church corridors lit up the house larger so soon that Lewis wants his crowded memoirs thrown away. At last, hoarded a microphone to scream into the circles in the clouds declaring outwards. The idea of such high sentient species feeding off of lower mates same as you, not so entirely different, is when that ascension above the 3rd tier can give meaning to higher form beings themselves.

28.06.26

We got off from work. We went up to the attic following the party the previous day. John, Edward, Bob and Dylan was going through their memory lane upon celebrating their architectural project win. The banner that says "Congratulations!" left down stairs was the last thing we did in our urban life. But we were going out of it, the old lore led us to a hidden gold storage for a few moments later. The apartment is quiet. No one's around down the hallways. It is too quiet that we start to go through some doors. We look around the place, discover some awfully strange things out of the place we've been living for over a decade. The styles, designs and furnitures of this building are vintage. The side stairs, we head out trying to know more of the place, is empty but sunlight going down through the tiny atriums. It seems like the building is floating elsewhere, and all the apartment doors lead to a mansion. The mansion contains all the missing people. We ask the crowd gathering in groups where they've all been. Their responses are they're all born in Antartica. The mansion keeps penguins around. So, as to such, they don't know how they got here. Their normal everyday was in an office, but now in an area fighting to inherit a gold storage. But we knew where the box is. It was the last place we remembered coming from the world into what it is now checking for an exit. As that happens, each person observed by John in the mansion would disappear. They contacted each other through cellphone only to realize it was out of line. Edward lost track of Bob and Dylan behind his back. Meanwhile, John asked continuously for answers, the answers were still useless, they said they're only looking for penquins. Edward, alone, knew the safest way to avoid any traps was the outside. It was when the mansion declared an activity, each room contained a number, and John noticed the number tags on them while immediately wanted to inform Edward. John went back and prevented Edward from using those rooms. Whenever John looked, Edward distracted. The opposite applies. The rooms were moving, so they decided. The quartet later would find themselves back at the mansion. "We were waiting for you guys in the attic till I got out", Bob said. "And then I did", Dylan added following Bob. Their architectural skills came into good use, but because of the rotary phones contacted each other, the organizers blared the emergency horn. If the attic wasn't the way out, then the open door we're trying to find in this mansion is. The mansion panicked and fogged as the 4 quickly ran for the giant park.

26.06.26.

This village has such a silent life. They looked meek. The herd of rams, sheep are shepherded by a second village on a plateau. Colored dark blue, I walked across plants earlier with the same color, but the fog made my eye hard to catch it. This was how I got here. I enjoyed the village for a while, eventually till today's sunset, the fog above revealed a ruined structure. I followed the fog, and saw some activity down another path avoided being seen. Once I reached the top, the second village ran away from me. I turned around, it was the horizon lights. For some reason, the village both do not cross the cerulean shallows trying to keep sanctuary. The ocean over here was turquoise like a tropical retreat. I've heard people come here as a famous tourist spot staying for more. I did exactly just that, tomorrow, going on the edge of this old mountain from below the horizon. Soared my arm happily at my final destination. Right just after that, the waves crashed hard all the way to the upland on one side of the island, and I started to see a giant carp. Evening set again, and suddenly I noticed over down there, with the use of the fog, passersby being killed. I rushed back to the interior of the castle, blockade with a weird wet path, I read on the walls, history of this place abolished by the villagers. They followed me all the way here, the plants grew so fast that they'd got caught by plants tangling above the hills as I'm falling down the cliff. Now I know that their color was to traumatize their victims. It was too sudden. I had to make a life decision. I saw the giant carp with my own eyes, swimming with it around the horizon. It itched me. So shocked that the ocean shrank to a small pond. This isn't the real world. A more ancient society were above the clouds. Giant creatures and plants were alive all around me. I hear whispers of the villagers coming across floral sounds. Looks like I'll be here for a while. I somehow understood why, upon inspection, the turquoise ocean was due to disenchantment impurity from the villagers. Farthest village was the oldest village. Floodplain's ridgelines has a thick plateau to help them with the fog against the curses. The hill was for the castle to see the horizon. This was a lost society hidden from the government. Whatever reason for the castle must have chased them down below towards the horizon. Ruined structures were found further in the valley. Along trenches lead back to the cliffs, down back to the normal world. I felt betrayed. Those bandits actually was angry at me, telling my sanctuary was to trap more travelers. Sounds of crashing waves destroyed the first village. I tried to save them, but they framed me as the kidnapper instead. A man traveler believed in me, got on my side. He was also from the second village! As a matter of fact, the ocean's depth contains lots of tortoise people protecting the mountain. The knights society were sent to the badlands. Standing out on the horizon, the lights haunting, petrifying them. We both brought them back and rescued the kidnapped travelers who enjoy going to the other side. Again did the giant carp found food in the ocean. Villages became camp for knights. The castle is a part of their dignity.

23.06.26

I'm gonna go to the hot springs the next day. I've been stuck in the mud and what reminds me of sadness is the mud flat marshland. But it's a nice wetland to soak into, Beth used to warn me not to be so shallow. Beneath my feet, I couldn't feel anything at all. The reeds were in my room. So I changed as we accidentally slipped in the backwater plants, laughing in the turbid water rushes in shallow memories of his losses. I wish I can see her in the littoral zone. Reflecting myself in the submerged earth, I see Beth and I were both on a mountain. We were driving here. Then she got hijacked on by bad guys. Beth slept on roses. I lost Beth even without knowing on the way here. This was our plan for vacation. Sediment love layered like a lily pad. My job was outsourced to another professional. I couldn't stay on course. Given that I micromanaged too much at work. Today's work belong to the generalists. He also lost his nephew and father recently. He regretted haven't being able to see them. Lost the chance to instead attend his celebration parties. They all got eaten by the fishes. They were pushed to the edge to die. The roses turned blue, the lake became sad, water circulation flows like money I should have spent. Schools of small fishes stick together while I was drifting alone with my memories. Streams his thought. Living on the water's edge, the moss is the monster between two sides of the lake's sunlit bottom and still of the deep. The grass is greener than the, I feel, algae mats and lily pads, the frogs, tadpoles cracked, and bees, insects buzz by ripples as I didn't give off any sound. I attracted flashing images, suddenly it got colder down there, it woke me up from stream. I got bruised by sandy stones. This kick tossed peats out of of the water that the animals all flown away. The amphibious life was void of insects right before my eyes. The lake was small small that MC feels like a safe space. I love looking at them rippling. Lagoons are really vivid and purple, y'know. The vegetarion gave life to the lake like it did to catch me on fire, my anger distilled in the sedimentary rocks. Since I sniffed the damp air having caused me to run from camp, I rode out the wave, also, surfers are cool people, sat on a rock, then trudged from rock to rock back to the car.

21.06.26

Dying stars don't flicker out here, they attach to the terra. "Pink skies. Time to head back", slowly wandering, wondering about this year's 5020. There's always a monster to keep my ancient identity, searching out to distill my other me, ans I during this limbo state. They all committed suicide, in the science laboratory where the research mantle was going underway, it was of no use to have it newly re-facilitated rather than half my backpack filled with an octeract. I took this extinction generated world completely swapped back in time unformed in two of my evolved shoes. Terra looks completely unformed in this world, creating craftons from scratch, biogeography reshaping the natural habitat, and ecosystems biting each other to survive. Reminded me of myself, down to its verse, I was sitting on a stone, shooked up by a devastated monument, and seeing the odyssey lane that the era previously left by. In a single timeframe, the next monument is far right on the Zeto area side. The land gets bumpy at exactly 2:00 midnoon. The stars are starting to scream again. If you were lucky to get one on you, there's ethereal monsters for the rest of 74 hours until they expire. Promptly I quickly slept while saying "It feels so long. The endless boundary shows me 8 terrains, at the same time" near the fences. Then an object hit me, and I suddenly tripped. The terra's magnitude atmosphere collapsed eons of years. Previous scenes of mine are seen walking down there. The world is rebuilding transitions again. My head hurts, not that painful, but the memories get uploaded into the clouds. We have these giant where teleportation, and I got teleported, without showing my ancient face. We aren't the gods. We're among them. Now, the terrain shifts back, and I arrived back to where I was, further in a year gap, again. "Not this again." "I can never find another human." It's a recurring phenomena, but not gods have mentioned it. I'm a lost wanderer in this world. Humanity, I remembered the METI, hoping to signal living lifeforms out there. The last thing we did was upgrade METI to reach those on the verge of extinction. This monument here is not activated. The images in the skies are appearing again. That means the world is undergoing a further expansion. There's a way out, but there aren't tools here. You can't build anything. It's to go through that flickering aether cave in the sky edges deep.

19.06.26

All identities framed in such a positive way. The landscape divide between this dock's reality and the sea gets me off when the course of shore swept below my feet. Down to the right, we have a cabin left empty by a 6 decades old aged eerie contraption. The only place possible for both of us to have ever arrived at this lonely conference, Sam and I discussed, "How has networking been for you on the reefs?" To which I took a long sigh, and so did he listening to each other's replies, "The news like what it likes. Headlines traject naysayers elsewhere." It's an algorithm that only lives over the horizon. Some good conditions here, current is estimated to bring back positive sources. The waves were one way of analyzing the trends, and the group team collectively derives their stark prediction from divers and surfers. As for Sam, he's onto coverage locating parables. In this small cabin of ours, we'd check for patterns, behavioral analysis on their research done in favor of mainstream media. The soggy waves drenched our clothes before we parted ways. We love swimming. But on this beach, the only purge had just started. The next morning, on a keen glowing evening, all their communications stopped. Sam also told me they had stopped contacting him. The network didn't like what we were up to. We admitted to self-report the next day. It was hell silent like the sea breeze. On islands as these, you artifically can build up by signals on the coast enough to get weird catches of the global landscape. "It's literary. The advertising gets sentiment. Man admittedly knows he likes this", Sam told me. "A news about a young handicapped boy living off 2 cans of beans per day, he got provided by a foster family, this sounds good to derive from", I replied. The course set sail for 3 days later where a big news was expected to arrive. We both observed what they were doing. The sunset turned off, and carefully we got back to the cabin. "This was the last time I'm ever doing this", Sam said. Sam felt the distress from the community seeking euphemism. Due to recent conditions, the cabin got destroyed by a storm. We sailed away by a small canoe. The island floated away into the distance. "It was nice. No one never bothered us in that cabin", Sam replied back, "Yeah, it's strange all that could have been us observed back then. The surfers would ask me too at times what this place was precisely used for." The island, the eerie noises, our allocation and theirs, it's a totally different world. Especially when one is separated away from the rest like this, the wrenches in the cabin caused it to fall.

16.06.26

Sometime around this month, Duke'd gone on a stroll to see the glaciers, and how huge the spaces it was shrinking into. The window I peeked into appeared a woman that came from somewhere not around town, she whispered to me "This market is empty. Where can I find this sort of stone?". I was not surprised that everyone was looking to sell these. Upon the breaking glacier news, there was no use staying here, and all the raw minerals as short our lives were, quietly inhabiting another part of another world. "What a shame this small world had to go", she claimed. Duke came back from his winterland. He saw the new carts coming in, with empty barrels giant as glaciers. The markets were wearing out. They have to trade with other villages. Only survival items such as wood, clothing, and tools rotated around for trade. Duke met with the woman. "Hey, you know, the glacier's gonna melt soon, and I was thinking we should leave." To Duke, he got suspended after the woman on action came up with words. "Wait! Can't we just relocate there instead? It's better to just re-inhabit once the winter is over." They all stared at each other. The frame was short, and so did the villagers crossed a dead giant branch to the other side of this Alaskan terrain. The icy ground was cracking, we got foots trembling before sounds were even made. Exactly the timing couldn't be more perfect, once the winter season is gone can we actually use this river frozen to sail to another country neighboring island. Then it was 2 days after the next month. The glaciers cracked, this small world of ours is shrinking and covered in snow, we rotated turns to keep watch during sunset hours. In the midnight, me and Duke climbed up the mountain to look in on the other side, just to see how we would traverse across. Due to the huge empty space, the ice will undoubtedly drift with no place for us to reach shore. The auroras started to glow, colorful lights had our eyes staring and jostling the shoulders. If a plane was flipped as if we're on another side of the world, it's easier for us to walk on the glacier across. The market came to a close. By noon, some of us had already started moving. The woman broke the ice, "To this new world we go!", this weather was so sunny it'd gave us hope to last for a few more days. As luck had it, a group of merchants came to us instead. We settled here as the ice turns to stone. Our efforts were appreciated. These people were really glad with our winter tools from the shed. Bear-fur coats keep them warm. Leather shoes helped them walk across the ice. Before you'd know it, we were climbing on the glaciers thanks to these new rallying villagers.

14.06.26

In the far edges of a distant time, one can only imagine a giant behemoth would haunt the living, shouldering our fears would be a nightmare, or so as Hank'd thought. He wrote a book, published a story, took it to the team department of publishing executives to see what they would think. Somehow after the sold had been made, the copies had begun to deteriorate. The buzz was not quite right. Hank followed the source, and it led to a swarm of infectious man-eatijf plants. These things started to move. Could it be that the plant the trees were turning back in us, we would only have to keep this close from happening. Humanity is on the brink of a vase collapsing. The vase fell. It shattered. Tom opened the door, and the plant was inside Hank's room. "Hank! The plant wants your copies!" Hank uttered in disbelief to plant. "This was exactly what I'd thought would happen 10 years from now. This plant would grow in sozem a behemoth would draw our fate all on paper." This funny joke, in particular, got hum to fold the origami built from his stories. Some time later, Hank created a monster. Multiple copies of monsters. He neatly ornate them above the plants, Hank wrote better and the plants cheered him on. Each writing was long-lived. The reason for that was his destruction for a small frame window. Tom took his copies and stitched the vase together.

12.06.26