#and pressed

Uhhh how tf is all this gonna work out in just one episode???

I can't say I love Guzmas English voice. I'm not hating it, but I don't really like it. I can't put my finger on what is wrong. His voice is a bit too deep and pressed. Maybe it's bacause I'm too used to the japan version, but that's the same way. I just imagined it to be a bit higher, but not higher, but yes higher. Both. Like more emotion but not angry, more when your voice gets higher when you're sad. But not a sad high pitched voice. And a bit softer, but not too soft. Comforting, would sound great when singing sleep songs or when humming. Like this. His voice now is so as if he is speaking with his throat or something. It's hard to explain, but his voice is wrong in my opinion.

forgot for a sec there's people in here that hate dnf's friendship with a passion

Because I observe. The description says I don’t, but I do. I watch mannerisms and I learn phrases. I know who’s been hanging out with whom based on what the similar patterns are. Because I observe. It’s a movie that I see through a stained glass window. They go up and down and up and down. My feet are planted on the other side of the stained glass window. Unmoving. Unwilling to move. Because I observe. “Can I mention this?” Yes, you can mention that. “Do you know about this?” Yes, but I won’t say so. Tell me about it. I know you want to. “Do they like this?” Yes, go talk to them. “Do you like this?” For the sake of what I know from you, we’ll say no, I don’t. Because I observe. They drop. One. After one. I watch the same spiral. I stand. Planted. A shove, and I stay. I will always stay. Because I observe. Through a stained glass window. The image is hazy at times, always through a certain colour. A stained glass window. I see it through my lens. My colour. I try to turn the colour clear, but that takes more than wishful thinking. Action. Because I observe. I don’t have action. I stand planted. Imprints in the ground. Perfect. Through a stained glass window. A side I’ll never cross. Because I stand planted. Because I observe. I watch as my friends spiral down, and I’ve felt the urge. I know the patterns. I know what’s happening. I don’t know how I know, I don’t know why I know. It must be wrong, inaccurate. I’ve never been there. I’ve never been on the other side of the stained glass window. I’ll never be there. I was almost there; I reached out and touched the window. It was cold and full or ridges, but inviting. It was tempting. It was tempting back then, and it’s tempting now, but I’ll never follow. I’ll never move. I’ll never be on the other side of the stained glass window. Because I observe. I don’t have the experience. “I’ve been there,” you say. I think about the time I touched the stained glass window. “I haven’t,” I say. I tell the truth. I don’t tell the time I touched the stain glass window. The time I pulled my hand back and said, “No.” I don’t say how it felt, what I felt. “You’re on this side now,” I say. You agree. You are on this side. You crossed over. You figured it out. You did the right thing. You’re on the right side. Because I observe. I’m planted on the right side. I won’t move from the right side. I touched the window again. It was still cold, and it was still bumpy, but it was still there and inviting. If I cross, I’ll be there. I’ll be with everyone else. I won’t look through a stained glass window. Because I observe, I know the stained glass window is not for me to cross. It will never be for me to cross. It will be a movie, watching as they cross back. Watching as they share, as I relate but in a stained glass way. Because I observe. The stained glass and the cookie cutter.

GREGORY IF HURT MAGGIE, I S2G

when i say anti i don’t mean anti larry i mean anti fun