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SteamID64: 76561198889389830
SteamID32: [U:1:929124102]
SteamID: STEAM_0:0:464562051
CommunityURL: https://steamcommunity.com/id/wingyb/
ProfileURL: https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561198889389830
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Status: Offline
Privacy: Private
Profile Setup: True
Premium: True
Creation: 2019-01-20 04:26:30 (GMT)
Last Updated: 2024-03-28 14:24:48
VAC Banned: False
Community Banned: False
Game Banned: False
Trade Banned: False
| Name | Time Changed |
|---|---|
| The Bitcher | 2024-01-02 10:56:44 |
| Charlie Dicklips | 2023-12-13 23:17:30 |
| Detective Killfucker | 2023-09-27 16:33:21 |
| The Bitcher | 2022-09-01 09:36:52 |
| John Dick | 2022-09-01 06:33:40 |
| Megadick | 2022-09-01 06:33:29 |
| RealName | Time Changed |
|---|---|
| Yiğit | 2023-04-01 05:02:33 |
| URL | Time Changed |
|---|---|
| https://steamcommunity.com/id/wingyb/ | 2023-04-01 05:02:33 |
| State | Time Changed |
|---|---|
| Private | 2024-03-28 14:24:48 |
| Commenter | Message | Timestamp |
|---|---|---|
| Dylan | lil ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-25 03:23:10 |
| Dylan | guys I hate ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-22 15:26:55 |
| Dylan | I found a game for you to play https://store.steampowered.com/app/2059660/Cavern_of_Dreams/ | 2023-10-19 09:42:27 |
| Dylan | ♥♥♥♥♥ back at it again | 2023-10-15 10:48:26 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | No need to buy she will probably get it soon | 2023-10-14 14:44:04 |
| Dylan | guys please buy https://store.steampowered.com/app/2258940/Mage_Kanades_Futanari_Dungeon_Quest/ to him he is in love with it | 2023-10-14 10:52:57 |
| Dylan | hello ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-14 10:47:51 |
| Dylan | ☝️🤓 ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-07 02:42:17 |
| Dylan | Looking good today detective! | 2023-10-07 02:41:29 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | Have a great day detective! | 2023-10-06 17:10:38 |
| Dylan | Please comment something bad on my pf, thank you | 2023-10-05 13:14:11 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | Richest guy I know after Dylan. They are so rich that they are now throwing their money away for fun. The only difference is, one of them buys bugatti's, the other one buys the most expensive and sh1ttiest games | 2023-10-04 19:10:31 |
| Dylan | you ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-04 12:43:29 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | lil ♥♥♥♥♥ is addicted to worse games ever created. Get a job lil ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-02 14:39:44 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | get a life lil ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-02 13:09:30 |
| Dylan | Nice pfp lil ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-10-02 13:08:38 |
| Dylan | dumbass nickname lil ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-09-30 03:58:27 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | what is that nickname lil ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-09-29 18:04:19 |
| Dylan | I miss John ♥♥♥♥ | 2023-08-10 12:23:40 |
| Dylan | ermmm dark souls ☝️🤓 | 2023-08-10 12:20:39 |
| Dylan | friendly | 2023-07-15 10:36:44 |
| Dr. Ray Cism #Rustypot | Please fix your profile I can't stand it even for a second | 2023-06-26 16:10:03 |
| Dylan | I hate ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-06-26 13:32:05 |
| Dr. Ray Cism #Rustypot | I hate your profile | 2023-06-26 09:58:08 |
| Dylan | so many people falling down at the back | 2023-06-26 09:37:15 |
| Dylan | 336 hrs on recordlast played on 23 Jun for monster hunter my ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-06-26 09:36:35 |
| Dylan | Monster Hunter: WorldRathalos500 XPAchievement Progress 49 of 100wow he really likes monster hunter | 2023-06-26 09:36:08 |
| Dylan | 31.8 hours past 2 weeks he on holiday with his family guys keep it cool | 2023-06-26 09:35:36 |
| Dylan | I built this ♥♥♥♥. ME ! brick by brick | 2023-06-26 09:34:51 |
| Dylan | give it a try it's pretty good | 2023-06-26 09:33:21 |
| Dylan | sorry man It's because I watched a show called snowfall | 2023-06-26 09:33:11 |
| Dylan | like that why you talk like a black hooder | 2023-06-26 09:32:56 |
| Dylan | I don'T know no ♥♥♥♥ what you talkin about dog what do you mean | 2023-06-26 09:32:21 |
| Dylan | ey why you talk like that naw | 2023-06-26 09:31:57 |
| Dylan | we aight | 2023-06-26 09:31:44 |
| Dylan | I'm doing just fine how about you | 2023-06-26 09:31:20 |
| Dylan | hey man how are you | 2023-06-26 09:30:57 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | ♥♥♥♥♥ ass ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-05-24 16:00:52 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | salağın profile bak | 2023-05-24 16:00:43 |
| Dylan | cold profile brrrrrrr | 2023-05-24 07:58:27 |
| Ken | drunk ass cry baby with his hard working body building ass | 2023-04-07 13:46:40 |
| Ken | very cool profile design | 2023-03-05 03:25:50 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ please ♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2023-03-03 10:32:01 |
| 𓃵 | dl1>elden ring>dl2 | 2023-01-26 12:33:54 |
| Ken | plays rainbow like a claimbo. Begs for carry to every pro. Sucks ♥♥♥♥ like a hoe. All that for what to get rank on his dumbass coal. | 2023-01-16 04:13:47 |
| Ken | we play grounded like we are haunted, oh ♥♥♥♥ we just got surrounded. Killed them all under the sky clouded | 2023-01-13 15:20:43 |
| Ken | bitcher come up on me like I'm the ♥♥♥♥, but I'm just a frick lile the crackhead on the street | 2023-01-13 15:12:44 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ everywhere around the world , there goes another one sold, atleast they work hard for that bold, he died last night tho they don't know ♥♥♥♥ about the throne. | 2023-01-13 15:10:03 |
| Ken | I'm going home, fast and alone, ♥♥♥♥♥ who do you think I'am, lone ?, I'm just a looser with a phone | 2023-01-13 15:08:22 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ out here like he carter, lover aint marker with that ♥♥♥♥♥♥ on the counter | 2023-01-13 15:04:51 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥♥♥ trigger beefer I don't care if it's bigger | 2023-01-13 15:01:27 |
| Ken | Amsterdam aint no ♥♥♥♥ | 2023-01-05 03:53:01 |
| Ken | GIRLS CALM DOWN HOLLY ♥♥♥♥ !!! I NEED BACK UP THESE GIRLS ARE OUT OF CONTROL WE NEED TO PROTECT OUR GUY | 2022-12-20 02:41:27 |
| Ken | each girl can only take one selfie and that's it he is a bussy man girls, sorry | 2022-12-20 02:40:33 |
| Ken | get in line girls get in a straight line | 2022-11-24 10:46:11 |
| Ken | hey girls this guy right here plays terraria and he is single toooooo | 2022-11-24 10:45:47 |
| Ken | guys I hooked up with ariana grande last night it was ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ awsome. Thanks you terraria for making this up for me | 2022-11-05 13:53:06 |
| Ken | the ♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2022-11-05 13:51:17 |
| Ken | guys I made 1 million roubles today in tarkov then selena gomez came up and kissed me on the cheeks | 2022-09-18 03:20:20 |
| Ken | some random guy on the street heard us while me and my friend BaconPower were talking about tarkov. He came up to us and handed 10k dollars each after shaking hands. Then he left with a big smile on his face | 2022-09-17 13:50:58 |
| Ken | guys I just got mine 10th girlfriend | 2022-09-17 01:40:10 |
| Ken | guys don't worry he will play tarkov | 2022-09-17 01:39:13 |
| Ken | I just got my 9th girlfriend just by playing tarkov | 2022-09-16 18:50:43 |
| Ken | girls biggest desire. Because he will play tarkov | 2022-09-16 18:50:19 |
| Ken | big tarkov fan | 2022-09-16 18:49:37 |
| Ken | hello everyone I'm Dylan Ryan! I'm here to tell you that this guy over here will be playing tarkov in a short time and I'm so prouf of him. He totally deserves it | 2022-09-16 18:49:03 |
| Ken | terraria make me your slave pleaseeee pleaseee | 2022-09-12 14:56:51 |
| Ken | take my life and make it yours terriaria | 2022-09-11 11:15:44 |
| Ken | terraria | 2022-09-11 11:15:22 |
| Ken | TERRARIAAAAAAA | 2022-09-11 07:15:17 |
| Ken | LONG LIVE TERRARIA TAKE MY LIFE TAKE MY WIFE TAKE MY KIDS | 2022-09-11 07:15:11 |
| Ken | TERRARIA ADDICT!! | 2022-09-11 07:14:59 |
| Ken | Tarkov so good but terraria the best | 2022-09-11 07:14:51 |
| Ken | no tarkov for him that's so sad | 2022-09-02 11:23:36 |
| Ken | poor guy.... he never played tarkov | 2022-09-02 11:23:20 |
| Ken | NO TARKOV NO FAMILY | 2022-09-02 11:23:08 |
| Ken | NO TARKOV NO LIFE | 2022-09-02 11:23:00 |
| Ken | no tarkov no happiness | 2022-08-23 06:55:25 |
| Ken | I bet this guy is a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2022-08-21 08:06:01 |
| Ken | MultiVersus | 2022-08-16 10:05:57 |
| Ken | MultiVersus | 2022-08-16 10:05:56 |
| Ken | tekken revolution | 2022-08-16 10:05:51 |
| Ken | tekken revolution | 2022-08-16 10:05:50 |
| Ken | tekken revolution | 2022-08-16 10:05:48 |
| Ken | tekken revolution | 2022-08-16 10:05:44 |
| Ken | I love penis | 2022-07-21 14:30:32 |
| Ken | I love penis | 2022-07-21 14:30:31 |
| Ken | I love penis | 2022-07-21 14:30:30 |
| Ken | I love penis | 2022-07-21 14:30:29 |
| Ken | I love penis | 2022-07-21 14:30:25 |
| Ken | Apex Legends | 2022-07-02 07:42:38 |
| Ken | Apex Legends | 2022-07-02 07:42:37 |
| Ken | Apex Legends | 2022-07-02 07:42:35 |
| Ken | Apex Legends | 2022-07-02 07:42:34 |
| Ken | Apex Legends | 2022-07-02 07:42:32 |
| Ken | Apex Legends | 2022-07-02 07:42:31 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-25 12:53:59 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-25 12:53:58 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-25 12:53:56 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-25 12:53:54 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-25 12:53:52 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-25 12:53:49 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-22 09:39:22 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-22 09:38:03 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-22 09:38:02 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-22 09:38:01 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-22 09:38:00 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-22 09:37:59 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-22 09:37:58 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-10 04:41:59 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-10 04:41:55 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-10 04:41:52 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-10 04:41:47 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-10 04:41:45 |
| Ken | roley | 2022-06-10 04:41:42 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | PLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥S PLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥SPLEASE KILL ♥♥♥♥♥♥S | 2022-04-22 16:27:01 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:52:43 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:52:42 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:52:40 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:52:39 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:52:34 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:52:33 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:47:30 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:47:29 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:47:28 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:47:26 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:47:25 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:47:24 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:39:55 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:39:54 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:39:52 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:39:50 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:39:49 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:39:47 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:26:55 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:26:53 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:26:52 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:26:51 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:26:50 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:26:48 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:23:09 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:23:07 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:23:06 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:23:05 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:23:03 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:23:01 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:17:37 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:17:34 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:17:33 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:17:32 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:17:30 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:17:29 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:11:22 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:11:20 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:11:19 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:11:18 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:11:16 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:10:25 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:08:35 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:08:33 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:08:32 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:08:30 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:08:29 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:08:27 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:06:41 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:06:40 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:06:38 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:06:37 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:06:35 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:06:33 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:05:36 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:05:34 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:05:33 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:05:31 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:05:27 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:05:22 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:02:35 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:02:31 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:02:29 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:02:27 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:02:26 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 02:02:19 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 01:59:45 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 01:59:44 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 01:59:42 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 01:59:41 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 01:59:36 |
| Ken | online class | 2022-04-22 01:59:27 |
| Ken | aaa | 2022-04-21 12:56:04 |
| Ken | it burns | 2022-04-21 12:55:54 |
| Ken | on god | 2022-04-21 12:55:49 |
| Ken | legit | 2022-04-21 12:55:43 |
| Ken | I poop fire | 2022-04-21 12:55:38 |
| Ken | shutle | 2022-04-21 08:19:13 |
| Ken | shutle | 2022-04-21 08:19:09 |
| Ken | shutle | 2022-04-21 08:19:03 |
| Ken | shutle | 2022-04-21 08:18:53 |
| Ken | pc suck | 2022-04-20 06:41:01 |
| Ken | pc | 2022-04-20 06:40:57 |
| Ken | loser | 2022-04-20 06:40:54 |
| Ken | bad pc | 2022-04-20 06:40:49 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥ pc | 2022-04-20 06:40:45 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥ | 2022-04-20 06:40:39 |
| Ken | error | 2022-04-19 14:55:25 |
| Ken | login | 2022-04-19 14:55:22 |
| Ken | steam | 2022-04-19 14:55:17 |
| Ken | cha | 2022-04-19 14:55:09 |
| Ken | cha | 2022-04-19 14:55:04 |
| Ken | opticks here level 1 | 2022-04-19 06:43:24 |
| Ken | I need a backpack | 2022-04-19 06:43:17 |
| Ken | I'm the jumpmaster | 2022-04-19 06:43:11 |
| Ken | here we go | 2022-04-19 06:43:01 |
| Ken | yessir | 2022-04-19 06:39:27 |
| Ken | people who don't like | 2022-04-19 06:39:23 |
| Ken | burn alive | 2022-04-19 06:39:15 |
| Ken | beaches | 2022-04-19 06:39:08 |
| Ken | don't forget to like | 2022-04-19 06:39:04 |
| Ken | for more content like this | 2022-04-19 06:38:56 |
| Ken | guys | 2022-04-19 06:35:15 |
| Ken | sub to thread | 2022-04-19 06:35:11 |
| Ken | beach boy | 2022-04-19 06:34:57 |
| Ken | comgratss | 2022-04-19 06:34:53 |
| Ken | elden ringoo wiiinsss | 2022-04-19 06:34:48 |
| Ken | elden ring or apexo LEGENDO | 2022-04-19 06:34:38 |
| Ken | yes | 2022-04-19 06:33:06 |
| Ken | yesssiiirr | 2022-04-19 06:33:03 |
| Ken | tripple | 2022-04-19 06:32:59 |
| Ken | a | 2022-04-19 06:32:56 |
| Ken | baby | 2022-04-19 06:32:53 |
| Ken | oh | 2022-04-19 06:32:50 |
| Ken | öaker | 2022-04-19 06:31:01 |
| Ken | eater | 2022-04-19 06:30:53 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥ | 2022-04-19 06:30:50 |
| Ken | finder | 2022-04-19 06:30:47 |
| Ken | path | 2022-04-19 06:30:42 |
| Ken | th | 2022-04-19 06:17:36 |
| Ken | wra | 2022-04-19 06:17:33 |
| Ken | legendoo | 2022-04-19 06:17:29 |
| Ken | apexoo | 2022-04-19 06:17:26 |
| Ken | APEXO LEGENDO WIIIINNSSS | 2022-04-19 06:17:22 |
| Ken | apex or pubg | 2022-04-19 06:17:03 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:08:07 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:08:06 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:08:04 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:08:03 |
| Ken | adam olana çok bile -Hakan Şükrü Oral | 2022-04-18 14:07:55 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:07:28 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:06:17 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:06:16 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:06:14 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:06:13 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:06:10 |
| Ken | That was too good | 2022-04-18 14:06:08 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:46:46 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:46:45 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:46:43 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:46:41 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:46:40 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:39:49 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:39:48 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:39:47 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:39:46 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:39:44 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:39:43 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:36:10 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:36:09 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:36:08 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:36:06 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:36:05 |
| Ken | I m coming hom | 2022-04-18 13:36:02 |
| Ken | ds3 | 2022-04-18 04:10:15 |
| Ken | th'nk | 2022-04-18 04:10:13 |
| Ken | I | 2022-04-18 04:10:08 |
| Ken | ds1 | 2022-04-18 04:10:06 |
| Ken | or | 2022-04-18 04:10:04 |
| Ken | ds3 | 2022-04-18 04:10:02 |
| Ken | ds | 2022-04-17 14:34:22 |
| Ken | ds | 2022-04-17 13:22:55 |
| Ken | ds | 2022-04-17 13:22:54 |
| Ken | ds | 2022-04-17 13:22:53 |
| Ken | ds | 2022-04-17 13:22:52 |
| Ken | ds | 2022-04-17 13:22:50 |
| Ken | ds | 2022-04-17 13:22:48 |
| Ken | a | 2022-04-17 13:12:01 |
| Ken | a | 2022-04-17 13:12:00 |
| Ken | a | 2022-04-17 13:11:58 |
| Ken | a | 2022-04-17 13:11:56 |
| Ken | a | 2022-04-17 13:11:54 |
| Ken | a | 2022-04-17 13:11:53 |
| Karabaş | yiğit götünü skm | 2022-04-17 12:55:53 |
| Ken | 3 | 2022-04-17 04:46:16 |
| Ken | 6 | 2022-04-17 04:46:12 |
| Ken | kid | 2022-04-17 04:46:06 |
| Ken | hater hater | 2022-04-17 04:46:00 |
| Ken | girl hater | 2022-04-17 04:45:50 |
| Ken | rust hater | 2022-04-17 04:45:46 |
| Ken | View all 817 comments < 1 2 3 4 5 6 ... 137 >Comments Subscribe to thread (?) | 2022-04-15 01:49:44 |
| Ken | Comments Subscribe to thread (? | 2022-04-15 01:49:38 |
| Ken | ViewAll Recently Played|Wishlist|Reviews | 2022-04-15 01:49:27 |
| Ken | Screenshots 28 | 2022-04-15 01:48:30 |
| Ken | Achievement Progress 22 of 41 | 2022-04-15 01:48:27 |
| Ken | 43 hrs on recordlast played on 14 Apr | 2022-04-15 01:48:20 |
| Ken | DARK SOULS™: REMASTERED | 2022-04-15 01:48:14 |
| Ken | Achievement Progress 2 of 49 | 2022-04-15 01:48:09 |
| Ken | 0.9 hrs on recordlast played on 15 Apr | 2022-04-15 01:48:06 |
| Ken | Mirror's Edge™ Catalyst | 2022-04-15 01:46:08 |
| Ken | Achievement Progress 1 of 127 | 2022-04-15 01:46:00 |
| Ken | 1.3 hrs on recordlast played on 15 AprMass Effect™ Legendary Edition | 2022-04-15 01:45:49 |
| Ken | Mass Effect™ Legendary Edition | 2022-04-15 01:45:44 |
| Ken | Recent Activity68.8 hours past 2 weeks | 2022-04-15 01:45:37 |
| Ken | Will smilth punched chris ross in the ass | 2022-04-15 01:45:19 |
| Ken | breaking viral !! | 2022-04-15 01:44:11 |
| Ken | 200 comments left to 1k baby lets gooo | 2022-04-15 01:41:49 |
| Ken | 0060 | 2022-04-15 01:41:32 |
| Ken | 0059 | 2022-04-15 01:41:27 |
| Ken | 0058 | 2022-04-15 01:34:41 |
| Ken | 0056 | 2022-04-15 01:34:34 |
| Ken | 0055 | 2022-04-15 01:34:30 |
| Ken | 0054 | 2022-04-15 01:34:25 |
| Ken | 0053 | 2022-04-15 01:34:20 |
| Ken | 0052 | 2022-04-15 01:34:14 |
| Ken | 0051 | 2022-04-15 01:32:34 |
| Ken | 0050 | 2022-04-15 01:32:29 |
| Ken | 0049 | 2022-04-15 01:32:26 |
| Ken | 0048 | 2022-04-15 01:32:21 |
| Ken | 0047 | 2022-04-15 01:32:17 |
| Ken | 0046 | 2022-04-15 01:32:13 |
| Ken | 0045 | 2022-04-14 14:41:59 |
| Ken | 0044 | 2022-04-14 14:41:55 |
| Ken | 0043 | 2022-04-14 14:41:52 |
| Ken | 0042 | 2022-04-14 14:41:47 |
| Ken | 0041 | 2022-04-14 14:41:44 |
| Ken | 0040 | 2022-04-14 14:41:39 |
| Ken | 0039 | 2022-04-14 05:10:40 |
| Ken | 0038 | 2022-04-14 05:10:36 |
| Ken | 0037 | 2022-04-14 05:10:32 |
| Ken | 0036 | 2022-04-14 05:10:29 |
| Ken | 0035 | 2022-04-14 05:10:25 |
| Ken | 0034 | 2022-04-14 05:10:20 |
| Ken | 0033 | 2022-04-14 02:32:17 |
| Ken | 0032 | 2022-04-14 02:32:14 |
| Ken | 0031 | 2022-04-14 02:32:10 |
| Ken | 0030 | 2022-04-14 02:32:05 |
| Ken | 0029 | 2022-04-14 02:32:02 |
| Ken | 0028 | 2022-04-14 02:31:57 |
| Ken | 0027 | 2022-04-14 01:46:42 |
| Ken | 0026 | 2022-04-14 01:46:31 |
| Ken | 0025 | 2022-04-14 01:46:27 |
| Ken | 0024 | 2022-04-14 01:46:24 |
| Ken | 0023 | 2022-04-14 01:46:17 |
| Ken | 022 | 2022-04-14 01:46:12 |
| Ken | 0021 | 2022-04-14 01:33:56 |
| Ken | 0020 | 2022-04-14 01:33:52 |
| Ken | 0019 | 2022-04-14 01:33:49 |
| Ken | 0018 | 2022-04-14 01:33:46 |
| Ken | Its Okay man because I'm a spammer | 2022-04-14 01:33:42 |
| Ken | 0017 | 2022-04-14 01:33:09 |
| Karabaş | ım so sorry dylan, I was so drunk and high when I wrote that yesterday. Im sure you are not a spammer | 2022-04-11 07:05:41 |
| Karabaş | what id this dylan guy doing broooo omg spammer lolololol | 2022-04-11 07:05:06 |
| Karabaş | wow omg ım sure you are gonna be even better at every game when your new mouse is delivered (the post office is very slow so its still hasnt arrived) omggg ım so big fan | 2022-04-11 07:04:41 |
| Karabaş | wow wo wo woow ı bet you are so good at apex legends battle royale mod | 2022-04-11 07:03:36 |
| Karabaş | wow you play so many good games omgggi | 2022-04-11 07:03:09 |
| Ken | 0016 | 2022-04-11 05:51:50 |
| Ken | 0015 | 2022-04-11 05:51:47 |
| Ken | 0014 | 2022-04-11 05:51:43 |
| Ken | 0013 | 2022-04-11 05:51:40 |
| Ken | 0012 | 2022-04-11 05:51:37 |
| Ken | 0011 | 2022-04-11 05:51:34 |
| Ken | 0010 | 2022-04-11 05:02:13 |
| Ken | 0009 | 2022-04-11 05:02:10 |
| Ken | 0008 | 2022-04-11 05:02:06 |
| Ken | 0007 | 2022-04-11 05:02:03 |
| Ken | 0006 | 2022-04-11 05:01:59 |
| Ken | 0005 | 2022-04-11 05:01:55 |
| Ken | 0004 | 2022-04-11 04:38:41 |
| Ken | 0003 | 2022-04-11 04:38:38 |
| Ken | 0002 | 2022-04-11 04:38:35 |
| Ken | 0001 | 2022-04-11 04:38:30 |
| Ken | 1010 | 2022-04-11 04:38:25 |
| Ken | 2020 | 2022-04-11 04:38:22 |
| Ken | 3030 | 2022-04-11 04:36:14 |
| Ken | 090p | 2022-04-11 04:35:56 |
| Ken | 6557 | 2022-04-11 04:35:50 |
| Ken | 4574 | 2022-04-11 04:35:47 |
| Ken | 8668 | 2022-04-11 04:35:43 |
| Ken | 5638 | 2022-04-09 15:30:41 |
| Ken | 427 | 2022-04-09 15:30:39 |
| Ken | 751 | 2022-04-09 15:30:37 |
| Ken | 715 | 2022-04-09 15:30:36 |
| Ken | 1357 | 2022-04-09 15:30:35 |
| Ken | 3647 | 2022-04-09 15:30:33 |
| Ken | 47569736 | 2022-04-07 10:03:15 |
| Ken | 247 | 2022-04-07 10:03:12 |
| Ken | 2457 | 2022-04-07 10:03:10 |
| Ken | 1613 | 2022-04-07 10:03:09 |
| Ken | derek | 2022-04-07 10:03:06 |
| Ken | sexy | 2022-04-07 10:02:18 |
| Ken | sage | 2022-04-07 10:02:14 |
| Ken | 2457 | 2022-04-04 17:05:23 |
| Ken | 9870 | 2022-04-04 17:05:20 |
| Ken | 7548 | 2022-04-04 17:05:16 |
| Ken | 96 98 | 2022-04-04 17:05:13 |
| Ken | 6448 | 2022-04-04 17:05:08 |
| Ken | 7547 | 2022-04-04 17:05:02 |
| Ken | 4922 | 2022-03-28 08:11:38 |
| Ken | 2121 | 2022-03-28 08:11:35 |
| Ken | rust base code | 2022-03-28 08:11:32 |
| Ken | 2832 | 2022-03-28 08:11:27 |
| Ken | 2271 | 2022-03-28 08:11:24 |
| Ken | 3827 | 2022-03-28 08:11:17 |
| Ken | 234 | 2022-03-08 02:31:28 |
| Ken | 92 | 2022-03-08 02:31:25 |
| Ken | 283 | 2022-03-08 02:31:21 |
| Ken | 1938 | 2022-03-08 02:31:18 |
| Ken | 92 | 2022-03-08 02:31:15 |
| Ken | 23 | 2022-03-08 02:31:10 |
| Ken | 124 | 2022-03-06 11:13:05 |
| Ken | 235 | 2022-03-06 11:13:03 |
| Ken | "35 | 2022-03-06 11:13:02 |
| Ken | 143 | 2022-03-06 11:13:00 |
| Ken | 59 | 2022-03-06 11:12:58 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥ | 2022-03-06 11:12:54 |
| Ken | dems'mex gay | 2022-03-06 07:06:01 |
| Ken | man lover | 2022-03-06 07:05:52 |
| Ken | woman hater | 2022-03-06 07:05:48 |
| Ken | sex hater | 2022-03-06 07:05:44 |
| Ken | dark souls hater | 2022-03-06 07:05:38 |
| Ken | rust lover rust fan | 2022-03-06 07:05:19 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | bradley | 2022-03-06 06:38:33 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | rocket | 2022-03-06 06:38:28 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | c4 | 2022-03-06 06:38:24 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | sheet metal door | 2022-03-06 06:38:20 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | thompson | 2022-03-06 06:38:11 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | n word | 2022-03-06 06:38:01 |
| Timteo | rust hater | 2022-03-06 06:21:37 |
| Ken | semi pistol | 2022-03-05 19:17:38 |
| Ken | ak47 | 2022-03-05 19:17:32 |
| Ken | m2 | 2022-03-05 19:17:29 |
| Ken | pro game player | 2022-03-05 19:17:21 |
| Ken | rust PRO | 2022-03-05 19:17:11 |
| Ken | SOT pro | 2022-03-05 19:17:04 |
| Ken | ah | 2022-03-05 07:13:30 |
| Ken | yoyo | 2022-03-05 07:13:27 |
| Ken | yo | 2022-03-05 07:13:24 |
| Ken | ey | 2022-03-05 07:13:21 |
| Ken | yoyo main | 2022-03-05 07:13:18 |
| Ken | pro yoyo | 2022-03-05 07:13:12 |
| Ken | ey yo yoyo pro | 2022-03-05 07:13:08 |
| Ken | pro yoyoyer | 2022-03-05 07:12:48 |
| Ken | yoyo | 2022-03-05 07:12:43 |
| Ken | yo | 2022-03-05 07:12:40 |
| Ken | yabale hebele | 2022-03-05 07:12:32 |
| Ken | habedi hubidi | 2022-03-05 07:12:11 |
| Ken | to take revenge and to protect the ones who can't protect themselves | 2022-02-12 18:13:57 |
| Ken | I have to stop him | 2022-02-12 18:12:21 |
| Ken | that fu cking dog is a devil | 2022-02-12 18:11:45 |
| Ken | that's why I'm after him | 2022-02-12 18:11:24 |
| Ken | max brainwashed me | 2022-02-12 18:11:08 |
| Ken | max is demsimex's friend and ally | 2022-02-12 18:10:47 |
| Ken | max is a dog | 2022-02-12 18:09:42 |
| Ken | f u ck max | 2022-02-12 18:07:30 |
| Ken | f 4 c k max | 2022-02-12 18:07:24 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥ max | 2022-02-12 18:07:17 |
| Ken | . | 2022-02-12 18:07:12 |
| Ken | . | 2022-02-12 18:07:09 |
| Ken | . | 2022-02-12 18:07:06 |
| Ken | . | 2022-01-26 18:51:47 |
| Ken | . | 2022-01-26 18:51:46 |
| Ken | . | 2022-01-26 18:51:45 |
| Ken | . | 2022-01-26 18:51:43 |
| Ken | . | 2022-01-26 18:51:42 |
| Ken | . | 2022-01-26 18:51:37 |
| Ken | r | 2022-01-26 07:56:49 |
| Ken | o | 2022-01-26 07:56:47 |
| Ken | y | 2022-01-26 07:56:45 |
| Ken | u | 2022-01-26 07:56:44 |
| Ken | n | 2022-01-26 07:56:41 |
| Ken | y | 2022-01-25 20:30:32 |
| Ken | o | 2022-01-25 20:30:30 |
| Ken | _ | 2022-01-25 20:30:28 |
| Ken | i | 2022-01-25 20:30:21 |
| Ken | b | 2022-01-25 20:30:19 |
| Ken | i | 2022-01-25 20:30:16 |
| Ken | g | 2022-01-24 19:03:43 |
| Ken | _ | 2022-01-24 19:03:40 |
| Ken | m | 2022-01-24 19:03:36 |
| Ken | u | 2022-01-24 19:03:33 |
| Ken | k | 2022-01-24 19:03:31 |
| Ken | o | 2022-01-24 19:03:28 |
| Ken | b | 2022-01-24 19:02:49 |
| Ken | _ | 2022-01-24 19:02:45 |
| Ken | a | 2022-01-24 19:02:35 |
| Ken | d | 2022-01-24 19:02:32 |
| Ken | r | 2022-01-24 19:02:29 |
| Ken | a | 2022-01-24 19:02:25 |
| Ken | road to 1000 comments ♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2022-01-24 18:58:46 |
| Ken | zab | 2022-01-24 18:58:29 |
| Ken | 620 comments zaaaamnn | 2022-01-24 18:58:20 |
| Ken | fakkin turko | 2022-01-24 18:57:58 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ turko | 2022-01-24 18:57:48 |
| Ken | omg 22lvl | 2022-01-24 18:57:39 |
| Ken | Immortal redneck fan boy | 2022-01-24 18:57:13 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2022-01-24 18:56:50 |
| Dr. Ray Cism | ♥♥♥♥♥♥ | 2022-01-22 07:39:03 |
| Ken | ReCore: Definitive Edition | 2022-01-22 04:38:15 |
| Ken | 6.8 hrs on recordCurrently In-Game | 2022-01-22 04:38:12 |
| Ken | Achievement Progress 25 of 73 | 2022-01-22 04:37:55 |
| Ken | +20 | 2022-01-22 04:37:49 |
| Ken | 2 people found this review helpfulRecommended19.4 hrs on record (6.6 hrs at review time)so fun with a friendPosted 3 December, 2019.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:25:38 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulRecommended2.6 hrs on record (1.3 hrs at review time)its so damn fun and fluid. But its also too damn short. theres no reason not to play it since its freePosted 23 January, 2021.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:25:31 |
| Ken | 18 people found this review helpful2 people found this review funnyRecommended4.1 hrs on record (3.0 hrs at review time)just flying around the map is so fun. I wish there were other games like this.Posted 19 June, 2021.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:25:24 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulNot Recommended0.3 hrs on record.Posted 24 June, 2021.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:25:13 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulRecommended14.0 hrs on recordFun but kinda cheesy story. great gameplay. nice graphics. amazin voice acting. Awful collectibles. great game.Posted 24 July, 2021.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:25:07 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulRecommended43.6 hrs on record (21.2 hrs at review time)fun gameplay, boring story.Posted 30 September, 2021.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:25:00 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulRecommended6.1 hrs on recorddecentPosted 22 October, 2021.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:21:18 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulRecommended7.3 hrs on record (4.5 hrs at review time)rip and tearPosted 18 December, 2021.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:21:07 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulNot Recommended23.1 hrs on record (13.5 hrs at review time)Amazing graphics and great atmosphere and presantation in general. anything else sucks so much. it has nothing literally the shallowest game in so long. sailing is kinda fun tho.fighting mechanics suck. progression doesn't suck because it doesn't have any kind of progression. I'm happy with how my character looks so I have literally no reason to want to earn gold, 0.Posted 7 January.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:20:53 |
| Ken | 1 person found this review helpfulRecommended40.7 hrs on recordGreat gameplay.Awesome setting and atmospherecool-ass storygreat graphics that still hold up.Super fun gameplayfun enough DLCsSuper worth the priceSuper underratedwith there could be a sequel.Posted 14 January.Was this review helpful? Yes No Funny Award | 2022-01-19 10:20:40 |
| Ken | rip and tear | 2022-01-19 10:20:18 |
| Ken | Amazing graphics and great atmosphere and presantation in general. anything else sucks so much. it has nothing literally the shallowest game in so long. sailing is kinda fun tho.fighting mechanics suck. progression doesn't suck because it doesn't have any kind of progression. I'm happy with how my character looks so I have literally no reason to want to earn gold, 0. | 2022-01-19 10:20:11 |
| Ken | Great gameplay.Awesome setting and atmospherecool-ass storygreat graphics that still hold up.Super fun gameplayfun enough DLCsSuper worth the priceSuper underratedwith there could be a sequel. | 2022-01-19 10:19:59 |
| Ken | View all 594 comments < 1 2 3 4 5 6 ... 99 >Comments Subscribe to thread (?) | 2022-01-19 10:19:40 |
| Ken | Comments Subscribe to thread (?) | 2022-01-19 10:19:19 |
| Ken | Screenshot Showcase | 2022-01-19 10:19:16 |
| Ken | YaYeet yiğit koçakLevel 21Message ... Just an ordinary ♥♥♥♥♥ with an extraaordinarily huge ass yarrak | 2022-01-19 10:18:05 |
| Ken | View All Recently Played | Wishlist | Reviews | 2022-01-19 10:17:55 |
| Ken | Games 214Inventory Screenshots 20Reviews 12 | 2022-01-19 10:17:51 |
| Ken | Badges 13 | 2022-01-19 10:17:45 |
| Ken | Profile Awards 2 | 2022-01-19 10:17:39 |
| Ken | Currently OfflineLast Online 2 hrs, 10 mins ago | 2022-01-19 10:17:25 |
| Ken | Friends 6You have 5 friends in common101This member is a friendBaconpowerLast Online 47 mins ago44Dylan 🎄Online43This member is a friendTimteo itrade.ggOnline21This member is a friendDemSimexIn-GameMETAL GEAR SOLID V: THE PHANTOM PAIN17This member is a friendFactosOnline6This member is a friendwaralLast Online 109 days ago | 2022-01-19 10:17:03 |
| Ken | Favorite GameDARK SOULS™: REMASTERED6.7Hours played 3AchievementsAchievement Progress 3 of 41 Screenshots 3 | 2022-01-19 10:16:52 |
| Ken | Favorite GameDARK SOULS™: REMASTERED6.7Hours played 3AchievementsAchievement Progress 3 of 41 Screenshots 3 | 2022-01-19 10:16:47 |
| Ken | hard 1 | 2022-01-19 10:16:34 |
| Ken | 303 hrs on recordlast played on 19 JanTom Clancy's Rainbow Six Siege | 2022-01-19 10:16:27 |
| Ken | 0.0 hrs on recordlast played on 18 JanLEWDAPOCALYPSE | 2022-01-19 10:16:25 |
| Ken | 23 hrs on recordlast played on 18 JanSea of Thieves | 2022-01-19 10:09:55 |
| Ken | 0.0 hrs on recordlast played on 18 Jan | 2022-01-19 10:09:49 |
| Ken | 303 hrs on recordlast played on 19 Jan | 2022-01-19 10:09:44 |
| Ken | Achievement Progress 21 of 197 | 2022-01-19 10:09:29 |
| Ken | Achievement Progress 1 of 146 | 2022-01-19 10:09:22 |
| Ken | 23 hrs on record | 2022-01-19 10:09:09 |
| Ken | lord of sex | 2022-01-19 10:05:40 |
| Ken | free the titties! achivment earned in LEWDAPOCALYPSE | 2022-01-19 10:05:30 |
| Ken | omg 571 comments you must be famous man holy sex | 2022-01-19 10:04:37 |
| Ken | professional hentai puzzle maker | 2022-01-19 10:04:13 |
| Ken | hentai game collector | 2022-01-19 10:03:37 |
| Ken | playing hentai games | 2022-01-19 10:03:29 |
| Ken | freak | 2022-01-19 10:02:59 |
| Ken | zamn you have a lot of comments bro you must be famous | 2022-01-09 05:43:47 |
| Timteo | gaming hard | 2022-01-09 02:53:34 |
| Ken | TOO ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ sexy character on SOT sometimes I pas out because of her | 2022-01-06 09:13:15 |
| DemSimex | tam bi pc gamer | 2021-12-02 05:40:21 |
| Ken | Brick By Brick(Arctic Monkeys) | 2021-06-22 04:42:50 |
| Ken | Car Radio(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:42:30 |
| Ken | Holding on to You(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:42:20 |
| Ken | Truce(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:42:07 |
| Ken | Goner(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:42:03 |
| Ken | Lane Boy(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:41:57 |
| Ken | Crossfire(Stephen) | 2021-06-22 04:41:34 |
| Ken | Kicks(Barns Courtney) | 2021-06-22 04:41:15 |
| Ken | Arabella(Arctic Monkeys) | 2021-06-22 04:40:44 |
| Ken | Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You(Arctic Monkeys) | 2021-06-22 04:40:11 |
| Ken | The Youth(MGMT) | 2021-06-22 04:35:54 |
| Ken | Time to Pretend(MGMT) | 2021-06-22 04:35:43 |
| Ken | Electric Feel(MGMT) | 2021-06-22 04:35:24 |
| Ken | Lordly(Feder,Alex Aiono) | 2021-06-22 04:35:00 |
| Ken | Violence and Spiders(SAINT PHNX) | 2021-06-22 04:34:39 |
| Ken | Mountains(SAINT PHNX) | 2021-06-22 04:34:23 |
| Ken | Sorry(SAINT PHNX) | 2021-06-22 04:34:16 |
| Ken | Deadman(SAINT PHNX) | 2021-06-22 04:34:11 |
| Ken | Follow(SAINT PHNX) | 2021-06-22 04:34:03 |
| Ken | Shake(SAINT PHNX) | 2021-06-22 04:31:24 |
| Ken | All In My Head(Whethan,grandson) | 2021-06-22 04:31:01 |
| Ken | The Edge(panicland) | 2021-06-22 04:30:27 |
| Ken | Burn It All(panicland) | 2021-06-22 04:30:20 |
| Ken | Bad Word(panicland) | 2021-06-22 04:30:11 |
| Ken | Rome Falls(panicland) | 2021-06-22 04:30:00 |
| Ken | Sing To Me(MISSIO,Death Stranding: Timefall) | 2021-06-22 04:29:30 |
| Ken | Go ♥♥♥♥ Yourself(Two Feet) | 2021-06-22 04:28:46 |
| Ken | I Think I'm OKAY(with YUNGBLUD & Travis Baker)(Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD, Travis Bakre) | 2021-06-22 04:28:07 |
| Ken | Psycho(Muse) | 2021-06-22 04:23:37 |
| Ken | Present Past Future(Beware Of Darkness) | 2021-06-22 04:23:22 |
| Ken | All Who Remain(Beware Of Darkness) | 2021-06-22 04:23:06 |
| Ken | Hometown(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:20:43 |
| Ken | Bodies(Bryce Fox) | 2021-06-22 04:20:22 |
| Ken | Brighter Than the Sun(Brick + Mortar) | 2021-06-22 04:18:14 |
| Ken | Beware(Beware Of Darkness) | 2021-06-22 04:17:30 |
| Ken | Bullet With Butterfly Wings(Tribe Society) | 2021-06-22 04:17:09 |
| Ken | Bad Karma(Axel Theselff) | 2021-06-22 04:16:39 |
| Ken | Rescue Me(OneRepublic) | 2021-06-22 04:16:25 |
| Ken | Play Me Like A Violin(Stephen) | 2021-06-22 04:15:53 |
| Ken | Drop Dead(Badflower) | 2021-06-22 04:15:01 |
| Ken | Level of Concern(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:14:43 |
| Ken | Problems(Weathers) | 2021-06-22 04:14:27 |
| Ken | Best Part(The Score) | 2021-06-22 04:14:12 |
| Ken | Island In The Sun(Weezer) | 2021-06-22 04:13:55 |
| Ken | Grateful(NEFFEX) | 2021-06-22 04:13:24 |
| Ken | Begging To Bleed(8 Graves) | 2021-06-22 04:13:05 |
| Ken | In This Shirt(The Irrepressibles) | 2021-06-22 04:12:42 |
| Ken | Better Of Dead(8 Graves) | 2021-06-22 04:11:18 |
| Ken | Moby ♥♥♥♥(Jakey) | 2021-06-22 04:10:45 |
| Ken | It Was a Swift Not a Swallow (I Never Listen) | 2021-06-22 04:09:51 |
| Ken | Ho Hey(The Lumineers) | 2021-06-22 04:06:44 |
| Ken | Doubt(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:06:08 |
| Ken | We Don't Believe What's on TV(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:05:58 |
| Ken | Not Today(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:05:13 |
| Ken | Polarize(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:03:53 |
| Ken | The Judge(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:03:45 |
| Ken | Tear in My Heart(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:03:37 |
| Ken | The Hype(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:03:26 |
| Ken | Nico and the Niners(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:03:19 |
| Ken | Cut My Lip(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-06-22 04:03:06 |
| Ken | Smithereens(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-04-30 17:07:42 |
| Ken | Deep End Freestyle(Sleepy Hallow, Fousheé) | 2021-04-30 17:07:07 |
| Ken | The Real Slim Shady(Eminem) | 2021-04-30 11:49:14 |
| Ken | Spirits(The Strumbellas) | 2021-04-30 11:48:57 |
| Ken | Still Don't Know My Name(Labrinth) | 2021-04-30 11:48:21 |
| Ken | You're Somebody Else(flora cash) | 2021-04-30 11:47:44 |
| Ken | Dreamin(with blackbear)(The Score,blackbear) | 2021-04-30 11:47:18 |
| Ken | 7 Years(Lukas Graham) | 2021-04-30 11:46:46 |
| Ken | C'est la vie(Weathers) | 2021-04-30 11:46:21 |
| Ken | I'm Not Ok(Weathers) | 2021-04-30 11:46:09 |
| Ken | 1983(Weathers) | 2021-04-30 11:45:57 |
| Ken | Dirty Money(Weathers) | 2021-04-30 11:45:47 |
| Ken | I Don't Wanna Know(Weathers) | 2021-04-30 11:45:37 |
| Ken | Petrified(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:45:14 |
| Ken | Rain(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:44:50 |
| Ken | This is Our Life(Des Rocs) | 2021-04-30 11:44:33 |
| Ken | Come & Go (with Marshmello)(Juice WRLD) | 2021-04-30 11:44:06 |
| Ken | HVY MTL DRMR(Des Rocs) | 2021-04-30 11:43:23 |
| Ken | What's My Age Again(blink-182) | 2021-04-30 11:43:04 |
| Ken | Otherside (feat. Fences) [Ryan Lewis Remix](Macklemore & Ryan Lewis) | 2021-04-30 11:42:34 |
| Ken | Massacre, The New American Dream(Palaye Royale) | 2021-04-30 11:41:31 |
| Ken | Safe And Sound(Capital Cities) | 2021-04-30 11:41:02 |
| Ken | Dirty(grandson) | 2021-04-30 11:40:35 |
| Ken | Fire Escape(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:40:26 |
| Ken | Nails(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:40:13 |
| Ken | The Night Is Calling(Weathers) | 2021-04-30 11:40:01 |
| Ken | Lonely Vampire(Weathers) | 2021-04-30 11:39:46 |
| Ken | Riptide(grandson) | 2021-04-30 11:39:23 |
| Ken | braindead!(YUNGBLUD) | 2021-04-30 11:39:11 |
| Ken | Offended(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:38:47 |
| Ken | In Over My Head(grandson) | 2021-04-30 11:38:34 |
| Ken | Don't Wanna Wake Up(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:38:16 |
| Ken | GET ME OUT OF L.A.(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:37:57 |
| Ken | Warriors(Imagine Dragons) | 2021-04-30 11:37:43 |
| Ken | Waste(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:37:23 |
| Ken | Swim For Your Life(The Pale White) | 2021-04-30 11:36:57 |
| Ken | Thank God I'm Not You(Himalayas) | 2021-04-30 11:36:32 |
| Ken | acting like that(feat. Machine Gun Kelly)(YUNGBLUD) | 2021-04-30 11:35:54 |
| Ken | They Don't Care About Us(Matty Carter + Ariel) | 2021-04-30 11:35:21 |
| Ken | Bones(SAINT PHNX) | 2021-04-30 11:34:41 |
| Ken | Collide(The Model Youth) | 2021-04-30 11:34:13 |
| Ken | Another One Bites The Dust(Queen) | 2021-04-30 11:33:56 |
| Ken | The Clansman - 2015 Remaster(Iron Maiden) | 2021-04-30 11:33:35 |
| Ken | Peace of Mind(Boston) | 2021-04-30 11:32:39 |
| Ken | Whisper(Burn The Ballroom) | 2021-04-30 11:32:25 |
| Ken | Hellboy(SWMRS) | 2021-04-30 11:31:52 |
| Ken | Revolver(Zach Villa) | 2021-04-30 11:31:34 |
| Ken | You're standing on my neck (Splendora cover)(Destructo Disk) | 2021-04-30 11:31:19 |
| Ken | Sorry Sarah(Racoon Tour) | 2021-04-30 11:30:27 |
| Ken | Can't Stop(Red Hot Chili Peppers) | 2021-04-30 11:29:58 |
| Ken | Smells Like Teen Spirit(Nirvana) | 2021-04-30 11:29:33 |
| Ken | Come As You Are(Nirvana) | 2021-04-30 11:29:17 |
| Ken | Heart-Shaped Box(Nirvana) | 2021-04-30 11:29:06 |
| Ken | Yellow(Coldplay) | 2021-04-30 11:28:14 |
| Ken | The Cult of Dionysus(The Orion Experience) | 2021-04-30 11:27:59 |
| Ken | Sweater Weather(The Neighbourhood) | 2021-04-30 11:26:41 |
| Ken | Home(Edith Whiskers) | 2021-04-30 11:26:02 |
| Ken | Art Hoe(Call Me Karizma) | 2021-04-30 11:25:43 |
| Ken | Psychotic Kids(YUNGLUB) | 2021-04-30 11:25:28 |
| Ken | Die For The Hype(YUNGLUB) | 2021-04-30 11:24:57 |
| Ken | Can You Feel My Heart(Bring Me The Horizon) | 2021-04-30 11:24:24 |
| Ken | Throne(Bring Me The Horizon) | 2021-04-30 11:24:09 |
| Ken | Drown(Bring Me The Horizon) | 2021-04-30 11:23:59 |
| Ken | Parasite Eve(Bring Me The Horizon) | 2021-04-30 11:23:45 |
| Ken | Bandito(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-04-30 11:22:49 |
| Ken | My Flaws Burn Through My Skin Like Demonic Flames From Hell($uicideboy$) | 2021-04-30 11:22:12 |
| Ken | Kids(MGMT) | 2021-04-30 11:20:44 |
| Ken | Lonely Day(System Of A Down) | 2021-04-30 11:20:30 |
| Ken | Lisztomania(Phoneix) | 2021-04-30 11:20:02 |
| Ken | cut the deepest(Nicoteen Ninyo) | 2021-04-30 11:19:16 |
| Ken | i need help(Nicoteen Ninyo) | 2021-04-30 11:19:07 |
| Ken | i lost her.(unknxwn.) | 2021-04-30 11:18:53 |
| Ken | bout u(Nicoteen Ninyo) | 2021-04-30 11:17:14 |
| Ken | Daddy Issues(The Neighbourhood) | 2021-04-30 11:16:52 |
| Ken | Wires(The Neighbourhood) | 2021-04-30 11:16:35 |
| Ken | Tonight Is The Night I Die(Palaye Royale) | 2021-04-30 11:15:34 |
| Ken | Lonely(Palaye Royale) | 2021-04-30 11:15:13 |
| Ken | Mr. Doctor Man(Palaye Royale) | 2021-04-30 11:15:05 |
| Ken | Little Bastards(Palaye Royale) | 2021-04-30 11:14:54 |
| Ken | You Get Me So High(The Neighbourhood) | 2021-04-30 11:14:11 |
| Ken | Binary(The Spook School) | 2021-04-30 11:13:33 |
| Ken | What You Know(Two Door Cinema Club) | 2021-04-30 11:13:14 |
| Ken | Sun(Two Door Cinema Club) | 2021-04-30 11:13:04 |
| Ken | I Can Talk(Two Door Cinema Club) | 2021-04-30 11:12:59 |
| Ken | Dead Inside(Younger Hunger) | 2021-04-30 11:12:37 |
| Ken | Smokey Eyes(Lincoln) | 2021-04-30 11:12:24 |
| Ken | Cry Baby(The Neighbourhood) | 2021-04-30 11:11:49 |
| Ken | Deceptacon(Le Tigre) | 2021-04-30 11:11:21 |
| Ken | The Beach(The Neighbourhood) | 2021-04-30 11:10:45 |
| Ken | Stargazing(The Neighbourhood) | 2021-04-30 11:10:33 |
| Ken | Body(Mother Mother) | 2021-04-30 11:09:54 |
| Ken | Creep(Radiohead) | 2021-04-30 11:09:41 |
| Ken | Shy Away(Twenty One Pilots) | 2021-04-30 11:09:10 |
| Ken | Don't Stop (Color on the Walls)(Foster The People) | 2021-04-30 11:08:26 |
| Ken | Broken(Lund) | 2021-04-30 11:07:45 |
| Ken | Stan(Eminem,Dido) | 2021-04-30 11:07:31 |
| Ken | Vagabond - Stripped (MISSIO) | 2021-04-30 11:07:10 |
| Ken | istanbul bilgi için hazırlık yapıyorum | 2021-04-30 11:05:08 |
| Ken | https://store.steampowered.com/app/1601950/Hentai_VR/ | 2021-04-30 11:02:07 |
| Ken | https://store.steampowered.com/app/1033120/SEX_MOTEL/ | 2021-04-24 12:40:35 |
| Ken | STORY TIME | 2021-04-23 04:52:26 |
| Ken | Leigh Alvarado startled awake, her dog Willow jumping all over her. The mechanical dog stood stiffly and the robotic voice said, “Homework due today. English essay, five paragraphs. Two more paragraphs must be finished.” Leigh groaned I frustration. She had totally forgotten to do her homework. | 2021-04-23 04:51:29 |
| Ken | She twisted in her bed to strap herself down and flipped the gravity switch. Leigh grabbed her homework off the ceiling, and pressed the purple button on her bed. It zoomed to the kitchen, where Leigh slowly lowered herself into her electronic legs, made by the best cyclops in town. | 2021-04-23 04:51:24 |
| Ken | On the counter, she pressed the automatic food button, and searched for her favorite: peanut butter and jelly. The machine whirred to life, and immediately started to make her food. She added a few more sentences to her essay, and packed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich into her lunchbox. | 2021-04-23 04:51:19 |
| Ken | Leigh grabbed her favorite ax, and chopped her mom’s bedroom door down, the best way to wake her up to get ready for work. Today was the last week of school, and of course she woke up late with homework to do. She jotted down a few more sentences, then shoved the homework into her bag. She started to walk out the door, when she noticed she forgot something very important. She was still in her pajamas. | 2021-04-23 04:51:13 |
| Ken | Leigh pulled the small steel box from her pocket, and switched the lever that unfolded the chair. She buckled herself in and zipped across the ceiling back to her room. Without the directions programmed into all her items, she would get lost in the labyrinth of rooms she called home. Leigh quickly threw on her favorite jeans and sweater, and zip lined to the front door. | 2021-04-23 04:50:59 |
| Ken | Just as she ran outside, the bus floated to her door, four stories above the street below. Leigh activated the invisible bridge, and walked to the bus. She sat in seat seven, put on her headphones, and wrapped her blanket around herself. She was already looking forward to the weekend, and Monday had just started. She grudgingly pulled out her essay, about the wyverns, severely underpaid for their labor. Leigh remembered when wyverns were uncivilized beasts, incapable of human speech and was glad they had adapted to the more civilized life of the cyclopes and humans. | 2021-04-23 04:50:57 |
| Ken | The essay was finally finished, just as the bus pulled into the academy floating above them. Leigh’s first class was English, which she was slightly worried about, due to her rushed essay. The class went smoothly, because her teacher, a faerie, was grading papers tomorrow. Afterwards, Leigh went to Mythology, on the other side of the school. As she ran down the halls of the academy, she quickly slipped a translator over each ear, which translated mermaid speech into English. | 2021-04-23 04:50:19 |
| Ken | Mermaids were not common in this part of the city because there was little water, but the mythology teacher had a pool built into the wall of the classroom. Without the translators, her language would sound like gurgling bubbles, and the class would learn nothing. | 2021-04-23 04:50:13 |
| Ken | Almost to class, she realized she forgot her Mythology tablet in her locker. Leigh quickly found her locker, number 777, and grabbed her tablet. She sprinted to class and arrived at the door to the classroom out of breath, just as the late bell rang. Leigh sat in her seat, and prepared herself for another long, boring lecture about undersea lifestyles, and the cyclopes history. | 2021-04-23 04:50:07 |
| Ken | Homework piled on as the day progressed, and Leigh worried about finishing all of it on time. Another essay for English, this time about a book was due on Thursday, an at-home science lab was due tomorrow. She also had thirty-two pages to read for Mythology, as well as a painting due tomorrow in art, and a paper to fill out about extra-curricular activities, such as discus throwing, basketball, and and art club. Plus, her homework from Friday was due tomorrow. Leigh was completely swamped. | 2021-04-23 04:50:02 |
| Ken | During lunch, she read the pages on her tablet for Mythology and answered the questions that followed. She also filled out what she could on the science worksheet, and began her English essay. Leigh’s workload of homework was decreasing, but very slowly. Nobody, not even her parents, understood how hard she worked to get good grades. | 2021-04-23 04:49:56 |
| Ken | The final bell rang, and Leigh packed her bag and walked outside to wait for the bus. The bus floated over two minutes later, and Leigh pulled out her tablet to start the painting for art class. After a while, she started on her extra-curricular activities sheet. All she needed was a parent signature, and the form would be filled out. She worked on her essay, then put all her stuff away when she heard the automated voice of the bus say, “Next stop, Leigh Alvarado.” | 2021-04-23 04:49:50 |
| Ken | Willow ran up and jumped all over Leigh. “Don’t forget your homework.” The robotic voice said. All she had left for homework was the English essay and science project, so she quickly did the science project before her mom got home. Leigh finished her chores then ran to the door when she heard her mom’s hover-car pull up outside the front door. As her mom walked inside, Leigh ran up to her. | 2021-04-23 04:48:37 |
| Ken | “Mom, can I please go to Amy’s house for a party tonight? Please, please, please?” | 2021-04-23 04:48:31 |
| Ken | “Leigh, I got a call from the secretary. You had and English paper due today, and you didn’t ‘remember’ it when I asked if you had homework. Also, your grades have gone from A pluses to low A’s. I think you should spend more time on school work and less time with your friends.” | 2021-04-23 04:48:25 |
| Ken | “But can I go to the party please?” | 2021-04-23 04:48:17 |
| Ken | “Did I not make myself clear? You are not going to this party, or any party until you raise these unacceptable grades. Did you even do your homework today, and all your chores?” | 2021-04-23 04:48:07 |
| Ken | Leigh said, “Yes, all my homework is done, and all my chores are done. Most kids have C’s and D’s. At least my grades are still A’s. I can easily get them back to A pluses. I already started a bunch of extra-credit work for each of my classes. Please just let me go to this party.” | 2021-04-23 04:47:40 |
| Ken | “Leigh. I said no. Let me see the extra-credit work. If it looks alright, you need to do all your laundry, fix Buster’s collar, set the table, and be polite. Then, we’ll see about the party. What time does it begin and end?” | 2021-04-23 04:47:34 |
| Ken | “The party is from 6:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. I will do everything you said okay? I really want to go.”“Will there be dinner food at the party?”“Yes.”“Good. Do what I said, and I will let you go.”“Thank you, so much Mom.” | 2021-04-23 04:47:28 |
| Ken | Leigh showed her mom the extra-credit papers, and her mom approved. After that, Leigh put her laundry in the machine and told it the settings for the washer and dryer. Next, she had to fix Buster’s collar, which she was supposed to have done last week. The only thing wrong was the dented piece that was out of place. She searched through the spare parts bucket, and found the perfect piece. With Buster’s collar fixed, she set the dinner table, and cleared the lunch table in the sunroom. Her mom gave her the okay, and she zip lined through the carnival hall, to her favorite painting. | 2021-04-23 04:47:17 |
| Ken | She pressed the golden eye of the ancient animal, called a wolf, and the painting swung into her closet. Leigh turned left and accidentally went back to the kitchen. Back in her closet, she walked along the purple ceiling and walls, searching for the perfect outfit. Leigh was glad she had convinced her mom to let her go, and silently congratulated herself for thinking of extra-credit work. | 2021-04-23 04:47:09 |
| Ken | Then, on the ground level, she saw the perfect dress. It was modern, but not terribly so, and the blue lace and tulle really made it stand out against the rest of her clothes, which were mainly purple. She tried it on, and it fit perfectly. She vaguely remembered receiving the gift for her birthday, last year. | 2021-04-23 04:47:04 |
| Ken | As she put on a little mascara and lip gloss, she really wished she had a new hairstyle. It had been ages since Leigh had changed her hair, and she picked up the frame by her bed, covered in a thick layer of dust. She poked her head through, and chose lavender with blue streaks, in a stylish new trend called a pixie cut, and invented by the pixies. It went perfectly with her dress, and she enjoyed the change from her usual strawberry-blonde hair. Leigh walked down the stairs and twirled in her dress. Her mom flashed her the look of approval. | 2021-04-23 04:43:30 |
| Ken | “By the way, you’re paying for your own draxi. Dragons are charging way too much these days, and I’m saving up for an upgrade. Have fun at your party.” | 2021-04-23 04:43:24 |
| Ken | Leigh groaned then ran back upstairs, grabbed thirty dollars, and walked to the door. The invisible bridge outside their house activated, and Leigh raised her arm and yelled, “Draxi! Draxi!” | 2021-04-23 04:43:18 |
| Ken | A dragon whooshed down from the sky, and picked her up in its claws. It tossed her onto its back. | 2021-04-23 04:43:12 |
| Ken | “Hi, my name is Ella. I’ll be your draxi flyer today. What is your destination?” | 2021-04-23 04:43:06 |
| Ken | Leigh told Ella where to go, and went to her party. She had a lot of fun at the party, but she almost fell out of a window. But as she fell asleep that night, she realized she had forgotton to finish her painting due the next day. | 2021-04-23 04:42:59 |
| Ken | STORY TİME | 2021-04-23 04:42:23 |
| Ken | I stare out the window, the tall buildings blurring before my tear-streaked face. My anger bubbles inside me, boiling flames licking at my broken heart. The frowning face of my younger sister mimics the discontent within me. | 2021-04-23 04:42:14 |
| Ken | The government had promised. We deliver the mutated DNA samples, we earn our freedom. Yet again, we find ourselves moving to a distant, unknown city. Yet again, my heart aches for the comfort of my old home. In my entire life, I have never before loved a place so much as Hawaine. | 2021-04-23 04:42:07 |
| Ken | I nervously bounce my robotic leg, as we leave the newly restored cities of the old United States and drive across the endless ocean. I drift off to sleep to the sound of the ocean waves slapping our car, to the beat of my anguished heart. | 2021-04-23 04:42:01 |
| Ken | I awake three hours later, and find, much to my surprise, we have crossed about half of the warm, shallow waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Up past the rows of seats, I catch a glimpse of the City of Atlantis, previously thought to be lost. 200 years ago, the Atlantic Ocean’s waters became considerably shallower, which was when the City of Atlantis was rediscovered. | 2021-04-23 04:41:53 |
| Ken | A few minutes later, we retract the claws protruding from the base of our car, and float to shore. I gladly follow my older brothers out of the car and immediately fall to the ground. I always forget how dizzy I am after a long car ride. | 2021-04-23 04:40:39 |
| Ken | Quickly, before I forget, I take my water purifier from my belt and remove the lid. I fill the container to the brim with the salty ocean water. The bell dings exactly two minutes later, alerting me that the water is safe to drink. I quickly add the water to the dehydrated spaghetti before it cools down. I share the pasta with my twelve year old sister, Emma, who has been sulking since we left Hawaine. | 2021-04-23 04:40:34 |
| Ken | Matt and Mark share a small cake to celebrate their birthday, and they blow out their nineteen candles. I give each of them their presents, under the watchful eye of the government officials escorting us. For Matt I bought a new pocket knife from the Amazons in Batalla, not a weapon according to government standards. For Mark, I bought a book originally written a little more than 300 years ago, in the year 2019. | 2021-04-23 04:40:27 |
| Ken | Our final destination is Fingoli, a small island off the coast of Eurasia. We’re told the average temperature is 90°F, but due to the island being formed within the last twenty years, it is unlikely the average will continue to be stable. Apparently, there are barely any trees, and it is deemed unlikely we will come upon another human. Even the mutated sort. | 2021-04-23 04:40:21 |
| Ken | I look over at Mark, resting his new book on his six mechanical legs as he reads the first few chapters. Three years ago, when all of us were still in the military, Mark had an accident which resulted in him losing his legs. Rather than cry about it, he searched for days on end for the perfect parts and built himself six new legs, weaponized and ready to fight. Mark notices me staring and slides a bookmark in between the pages of his new book. | 2021-04-23 04:40:16 |
| Ken | “So, what are you thinking about in that tiny little brain of yours, little sis?” | 2021-04-23 04:40:13 |
| Ken | “You’re hilarious. Just remembering when we were in the military. You know, when we weren’t being ‘escorted’ to a random place in the middle of nowhere by government officials who stole our weapons.” This earned me a nasty glare from the leader of the group, but I just grin at him and turn away. Matt turns to look at me, and quickly looks at the ground. | 2021-04-23 04:39:16 |
| Ken | Mark says, “Right. Well, those days are long over. No sense dwelling on the past, or you might miss the future.” | 2021-04-23 04:39:10 |
| Ken | I try to hide my confusion at Mark’s words, because this was the code phrase we’d been using since we were little, meaning hide and run away. | 2021-04-23 04:39:06 |
| Ken | “At midnight, wake all of us up and we can watch the stars shine their light on us.” continued Mark. I was hard-pressed containing my reaction to the oddity of the words coming from Mark’s mouth. Maybe he wanted all of us to wake up and escape. | 2021-04-23 04:39:00 |
| Ken | “Okay, will do. How’s the book?” | 2021-04-23 04:38:52 |
| Ken | Mark held up his copy of Lost in the Jungle, “It’s pretty good I guess. So, this guy gets lost on a tour of this rainforest, and it’s in this place called South America. One of the old continents, perhaps. Apparently, he has limited supplies or something.” | 2021-04-23 04:38:46 |
| Ken | When I read the book, it was about a photographer lost in South America, not a guy lost on a tour. Mark is definitely trying to tell me something. We have limited supplies, we’re lost, in a way, and we are sort of on a tour with the officials | 2021-04-23 04:37:37 |
| Ken | Mark whispers to me, “I’ll give the signal.” | 2021-04-23 04:37:28 |
| Ken | I glare at him and laugh to make it look like another one of his jabs. | 2021-04-23 04:37:23 |
| Ken | “Can we explore please?” Emma whines. | 2021-04-23 04:37:19 |
| Ken | “Sure Emma.” I walk beside her toward the city, where most of the crumbling buildings stare sadly at the slowly sinking sun. | 2021-04-23 04:37:17 |
| Ken | I wake up on a hard marble floor, freezing cold. I look around. It’s pitch black. The face of my watch emits an eery light, and the time is 11:57 p.m., three minutes before the time I need to wake everyone up. Mark is already awake, quietly packing our things into a burlap sack. I shake Jamie, our aunt, awake and quietly explain the situation. Matt stands up, and he wakes Emma up. Matt picks up the burlap sack, and quickly hides our small robot. Kyle, our uncle, sits up and we start whispering instructions on how to escape. We silently creep out of the immense hall and run for the car. I hear a shout behind me, and turn to see what happened. One of the guards has Kyle. | 2021-04-23 04:36:39 |
| Ken | Kyle yells, “Keep going! Don’t stop no matter what.” | 2021-04-23 04:36:30 |
| Ken | Tears stream down my face and I continue sprinting for the car. I hear a strangled moan next to me, and I see Mark on the ground, his arm twisted in an unnatural position. He pushes Emma forward and I yell, | 2021-04-23 04:36:24 |
| Ken | “Emma! Sprint. Run as fast as you can.” | 2021-04-23 04:36:18 |
| Ken | Both of us look away from Mark and Kyle and run for the car. Emma screams when she falls, and I quickly set her back on her feet. I start to run out of breath as we near the halfway point of our sprint. | 2021-04-23 04:36:15 |
| Ken | Barely ahead of me, Jamie slows down and takes Emma’s hand. All of us run as fast as we can, when Matt runs toward us from the car, slightly out of breath. This strikes me as odd, considering he just sprinted to the car and back. I push the thought from my head and listen to what Matt says. | 2021-04-23 04:35:33 |
| Ken | “All the entrances to the car are blocked by guards. They’re just behind me. We have to run away.” | 2021-04-23 04:35:29 |
| Ken | We turn to run in the other direction, only to find we’re surrounded by guards and government officials, pointing their high frequency rifles at our heads. Kyle and Mark are viciously shoved inside the circle along with the rest of us. Jamie walks toward the outer edge of the guards, Emma with her, and over half the rifles are pointed at her and Emma. She shoves Emma behind her and quickly backs away. Matt simply walks out of the circle, and someone hands him a rifle. | 2021-04-23 04:35:23 |
| Ken | Matt says, “The government hired me to detain you if I learned of any escape plans. In return, I would get my old job back.” | 2021-04-23 04:35:16 |
| Ken | We stare at him in shock, betrayed by our own family. I can’t believe Matt would be this selfish. Tears pour down my face as Mark stares in horror at his twin. | 2021-04-23 04:35:12 |
| Ken | “You are under arrest for failing to comply when imprisoned by government officials. Put your hands up or we will shoot.” Matt’s voice is as cold as ice. Mark rushes toward him, fist raised as Matt raises his gun, finger on the trigger. | 2021-04-23 04:35:06 |
| Ken | STROY TİME | 2021-04-23 04:34:40 |
| Ken | Imagine how hard it is to break up asphalt with a pickaxe. Now imagine it's not even a very good pickaxe. And you've been doing it for days. The sun, hotter now, makes the sweat bead on your face, itchy like a bug landing on you. Sometimes enough water escapes your pores to form a little stream that carves a path down the black dust on your face. And it tortures you that your body is letting such a precious resource just drip onto the ground. Unretrievable. | 2021-04-23 04:34:27 |
| Ken | This has been my existence for almost a full moon. Me, my pickaxe, and the pavement. My hands have carved grooves into the handle as the handle has chiseled callouses onto my hands. I worry my arms won't know how to do anything else by the time I get to stop. Will they remember how to hug? How to hold? | 2021-04-23 04:34:22 |
| Ken | I don't want to tell you how much more asphalt there is to go. | 2021-04-23 04:34:17 |
| Ken | Sometimes, I get to use a shovel to heave the crumbles of concrete into the circulating wheelbarrow. It comes past my plot every hour or so. They say a change is as good as a break. I would like to state for the record that it depends on the degree of change. | 2021-04-23 04:34:07 |
| Ken | They didn't have a plan for removing the concrete jungle, the people who poured it out and put it up. It always grew bigger, never smaller. Engineers only thought about how to lay it down, not about who was going to have to pick it back up. That’s my job now. To rip it up to reveal the earth underneath, all pale and wrinkly like skin under a cast that has been on too long. And if they had thought about it, they would never have imagined doing it with a pickaxe. | 2021-04-23 04:34:05 |
| Ken | They didn't have a plan for any of it. If they had, I wouldn't be here. | 2021-04-23 04:32:58 |
| Ken | I can stop at any time. This isn't a prison sentence. It's more like penance. No, that’s not quite right because it’s not my sin I am trying to atone for. More like a damage deposit for my existence. For everything that I will take, I must first give something. | 2021-04-23 04:32:52 |
| Ken | I see my fellow pilgrims scattered across the hot mirage of black flatness, multicolored spray-painted lines designating each person’s plot. Some have left their posts and are sitting in the shade of the trees by the roadside or have gone into the Mall to lie down on their mats. But I turn back to my pickaxe. It helps to imagine the sweat on my back as if it was cool grass or the wet wall of a dark cave. | 2021-04-23 04:32:47 |
| Ken | I don’t join them. I don’t rest. I'm on a time limit. It’s hard to know when my time will be up, when the biological clock that is on the Mainland will run out. | 2021-04-23 04:32:35 |
| Ken | *** | 2021-04-23 04:32:28 |
| Ken | So, I pick up the pickaxe. Lift it and let it fall. I have to sleep soon. My plot is bigger than most since I’m unpaving for two. “This is how it starts," my wife told me when I volunteered to unpave for both of us. “This is how patriarchy restarts. I can do it with you. Women can -” I put my hand on her arm. “Plenty of women unpave. You know this isn’t about that.” “It is always about that.” “It’s not worth it. If something were to happen… It’s not worth it.” “I know...” | 2021-04-23 04:31:12 |
| Ken | We had made it to the Coast a few days before. Between bike repairs, scavenging for food, and avoiding bike gangs as often as wild animals, it had taken us longer than we thought. We set out from the Prairies as soon as we estimated there wouldn’t be any threat of snow in the passes. It was not an inevitability that we would make it. I imagine the people in the Before and how certain they could be that they would make it to their destination. They probably didn’t even think about it. We were constantly reminded by the shapes of bicycle skeletons, abandoned by the roadside. God only knows where the skeletons of the riders are now. | 2021-04-23 04:31:05 |
| Ken | But it had been more certain that we would die if we spent another frigid winter on the Prairies. It was clear when we got there that we weren’t the only ones to risk a dangerous journey with the hope of ending up somewhere better. People had been waiting so long to cross, a small village had erected itself in the ferry terminal. By the time it was our turn, my wife had already told me the news. She would try to keep it secret for as long as possible but we decided I would have to cross alone. And so now I am here and she is there, with a sea between us until I finish. | 2021-04-23 04:30:50 |
| Ken | *** | 2021-04-23 04:30:43 |
| Ken | I shovel chunks of the scar I have unstuck from the Earth into the wheelbarrow. The young girl who is pushing the cart today smiles at me and says, “The Earth thanks you,” as she moves away. She must be new. It’s what people say to each other here in the Parking Lot. It’s supposed to be encouraging, to remind us that this is a great service. But it just sounds like words to me now. You don’t realize how much concrete there is until you need to grow your own food. When there aren’t any cars to park on it, the black flatness looks so impotent. The monks who run this Parking Lot and Mall, which is now their church and where the pilgrims sleep, sometimes walk the plots to preach to us. “As we break open the asphalt and renew the crust of the Earth, so too shall we renew ourselves and be found worthy.” | 2021-04-23 04:30:37 |
| Ken | They’re keeping the useful pavement of course. The roads and the bike paths. More practical minds will only let their unpaving crusade go so far. “Like weeds through the cracks of asphalt we will persevere and you will be born again into this new world, this Paradise.” They often remind us about the Paradise. This Island where people don’t go hungry. The Island where the homes can heat themselves. The Island where no one fights over the scraps of the Before. The Island where there is enough. And we, the lucky ones, will be able to be part of it. We will be given a bicycle and a home and a plot of arable land. And safety. | 2021-04-23 04:29:37 |
| Ken | “Hey, woah there, stop for a minute. STOP!” I realize there is a monk standing beside my plot. “You have a wife on the Mainland, right?” I blink stupidly at her, trying to clear the sweat and my wife from my eyes. Finally, I nod. “She’s had a baby.” The monk says flatly. It is not a congratulation. My pickaxe falls as my knees crunch into the pavement. I wasn’t fast enough. I didn’t make it. “Is she alright?” I search her eyes. “She’s still alive and the baby is too.” She looks at the small square of unbroken asphalt that is all that is left of my plot. She takes a can of spray paint out of her pocket and shakes it. | 2021-04-23 04:29:19 |
| Ken | “Babies are expensive for the Earth, you know.” I watch as she draws a new line around me. It is impossibly large. She caps the bottle, touches my shoulder, and says, “The Earth thanks you.” She starts to walk away. I stare at the pavement around me, unbelieving. My arms feel full of gravel. “Wait!” I feel myself cry out, staggering to my feet. “Is it a boy or a girl?” The monk looks back at me as if it’s a silly question and I’m not sure she is going to answer. “A girl.” I have a daughter. I have a daughter and she deserves Paradise. I pick up my pickaxe. | 2021-04-23 04:29:12 |
| Ken | END OF THE STORY ... | 2021-04-23 04:29:03 |
| Ken | Gas can be found throughout the digestive tract, including the stomach, small intestine, colon, and rectum. We fart because of the buildup of gas in our bodies, typically due to: Swallowed air: We swallow air throughout the day, including from carbonated beverages or taking in air as we chew. | 2021-04-23 04:11:31 |
| Ken | spongebob squarepants theme song | 2021-04-23 04:10:24 |
| Ken | [Intro: Painty the Pirate]Are you ready, kids?Aye, aye, Captain!I can't hear you!Aye, aye, captain!Oh![Chorus: Painty the Pirate, Kids, & Both]Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?SpongeBob SquarePants!Absorbent and yellow and porous is heSpongeBob SquarePants!If nautical nonsense be something you wishSpongeBob SquarePants!Then drop on the deck and flop like a fish!SpongeBob SquarePants![Bridge: Painty the Pirate, Painty the Pirate & Kids]Ready?!SpongeBob SquarePants!SpongeBob SquarePants!SpongeBob SquarePants!SpongeBob SquarePants![Outro: Painty the Pirate]Ah-hahHahahaAh-hah, hahahar | 2021-04-23 04:10:10 |
| Ken | AWPNeo-NoirFactory New Covert Sniper Rifle₺342,50− 18%Suggested price ₺418,73 | 2021-04-22 14:09:11 |
| Ken | 4.33 Rating69 votes | 2021-04-22 14:08:59 |
| Ken | High risk and high reward, the infamous AWP is recognizable by its signature report and one-shot, one-kill policy. It has been custom painted with two stylized blue-magenta women over a grayscale background. "They took comfort in each other's despair"Collection:The Danger Zone CollectionPattern Template:652Finish Catalog:803Name Tag:♥♥♥♥♥ Killer | 2021-04-22 14:08:48 |
| Ken | lil ♥♥♥♥♥ , feat lil ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2021-04-22 13:56:23 |
| Ken | I'm Semi I stay automaticMoney add then multiplyI call that mathe-mat-a-matics | 2021-04-22 13:55:49 |
| Ken | I Don't Like feat Lil Reese Chief Keef | 2021-04-22 13:55:02 |
| Ken | Young Chop on the beatI'on likeGBE BabyI'on likeSos' babyYou know how we rockin' babyFake ♥♥♥♥♥♥, fake life | 2021-04-22 13:54:41 |
| Ken | A ♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahSneak dissers, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeDon't like, like, don't like, likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahDon't like, like, don't like, likeA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nah | 2021-04-22 13:54:36 |
| Ken | A popped ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeI got a bad ♥♥♥♥♥, yeah, that ♥♥♥♥♥ whiteWe smoke dope all day, all nightYou smoke Reggie, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeWe got a ♥♥♥♥♥♥' Audi, that ♥♥♥♥♥ all white (Skrr, skrr, skrr)Pull up on your ♥♥♥♥♥, bet she gon' likeSosa ♥♥♥♥♥, yeah, I done gon' hypePistol totin' and I'm shootin' on sightA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeYour ♥♥♥♥♥ want do the team, bet she won't fight♥♥♥♥♥, we GBE, ♥♥♥♥ who don't like!And we ain't gon' fight, our guns gon' fight | 2021-04-22 13:54:32 |
| Ken | A ♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahSneak dissers, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeDon't like, like, don't like, likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahDon't like, like, don't like, likeA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nah | 2021-04-22 13:54:17 |
| Ken | Fake True's, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeFake shoes, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeFake ♥♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeStalking-ass ♥♥♥♥♥, ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeI done got indicted selling all whiteBut I won't never snitch, none in my lifeI keep this ♥♥♥♥ 3hunna, ♥♥♥♥♥, I'm goin' rightWith my ♥♥♥♥♥♥ when it's time to start taking livesPlaying both sides, ♥♥♥♥ that I don't likeWartime spark broad day, all nightPlaying both sides, ♥♥♥♥ that I don't likeWartime spark broad day, all night | 2021-04-22 13:54:09 |
| Ken | A ♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahSneak dissers, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeDon't like, like, don't like, likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahDon't like, like, don't like, likeA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nah | 2021-04-22 13:54:02 |
| Ken | I'm killing these ♥♥♥♥♥♥, ♥♥♥♥ that they don't likeBroski got the .30, he ain't tryna fightGot your ♥♥♥♥♥, I was in it all nightFredo in the cut, that's a scary sightYou not with the ♥♥♥♥♥, you can die tonightI only want the top, I ain't tryna pipeThem youngins with the ♥♥♥♥♥, they be totin' pipeFloatin' off at flat, I might take flight3hunna, ♥♥♥♥♥, we hot, we done took flightTaking ♥♥♥♥ down, we ain't like the priceThirsty-ass ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, ♥♥♥♥ that we don't likeOTFGBE, your ♥♥♥♥♥ like | 2021-04-22 13:53:52 |
| Ken | A ♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahSneak dissers, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't likeDon't like, like, don't like, likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahDon't like, like, don't like, likeA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nah | 2021-04-22 13:53:41 |
| Ken | Don't like, like, don't like, likeA snitch ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nahDon't like, like, don't like, likeA ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥, that's that ♥♥♥♥ I don't like, nah | 2021-04-22 13:53:24 |
| Ken | He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed. (Albert Einstein) | 2021-04-22 10:52:34 |
| Ken | damn.. ı totally agree with my bro Albert | 2021-04-22 10:52:31 |
| Ken | All I have is the stubbornness of a mule; no, that’s quite all, I also have a nose. (Albert Einstein) | 2021-04-22 10:50:39 |
| Ken | this ♥♥♥♥♥ funny as hell | 2021-04-22 10:50:33 |
| Ken | If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales. (Albert Einstein) | 2021-04-22 10:49:27 |
| Ken | Intellectuals solve problems, geniuses prevent them. (Albert Einstein) | 2021-04-22 10:49:03 |
| Ken | A calm and modest life brings more happiness than the pursuit of success combined with constant restlessness. (Albert Einstein) | 2021-04-22 10:48:25 |
| Ken | I salute the man who is going through life always helpful, knowing no fear, and to whom aggressiveness and resentment are alien. (Albert Einstein) | 2021-04-22 10:47:00 |
| Ken | We must not wait for things to come, believing that they are decided by irrescindable destiny. If we want it, we must do something about it. (Erwin Schrodinger) | 2021-04-22 10:45:24 |
| Ken | damn... he right tho | 2021-04-22 10:45:21 |
| Ken | The world is given to me only once, not one existing and one perceived. Subject and object are only one. The barrier between them cannot be said to have broken down as a result of recent experience in the physical sciences, for this barrier does not exist.(Erwin Schrodinger) | 2021-04-22 10:45:01 |
| Ken | We have to treat others as part of who we are, rather than as a ‘them’ with whom we are in constant competition. (Robert Bellah) | 2021-04-22 10:43:54 |
| Ken | shut your dumb ass up Robert Bellah ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥ ass. Ima kill everyone ı don't like what you gona do about it dead ♥♥♥♥♥. what can you do to me under 5 fet ♥♥♥♥♥ you can suck ma shlong ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2021-04-22 10:43:48 |
| Ken | The most beautiful and most profound experience is the sensation of the mystical. It is the sower of all true science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead. To know that what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their primitive forms - this knowledge, this feeling is at the center of true religiousness.(Albert Einstein,The Merging of Spirit and Science) | 2021-04-22 10:41:09 |
| Ken | There is nothing divine about morality; it is a purely human affair. (Albert Einstein, 1954) | 2021-04-22 10:40:06 |
| Ken | Science has therefore been charged with undermining morality, but the charge is unjust. A man's ethical behaviour should be based effectually on sympathy, education, and social ties and needs; no religious basis is necessary. Man would indeed be in a poor way if he had to be restrained by fear of punishment and hope of reward after death. (Albert Einstein, 1954) | 2021-04-22 10:39:53 |
| Ken | damn Albert | 2021-04-22 10:39:50 |
| Ken | What is at issue is the conversion of the mind from the twilight of error to the truth, that climb up into the real world which we shall call true philosophy.(Plato) | 2021-04-22 10:39:00 |
| Ken | goooddd damnn plato keep it up man keeep that ♥♥♥♥ up baby | 2021-04-22 10:38:57 |
| Ken | The society we have described can never grow into a reality or see the light of day, and there will be no end to the troubles of states, or indeed, my dear Glaucon, of humanity itself, till philosophers are kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands. (Plato) | 2021-04-22 10:38:11 |
| Ken | When the mind's eye rests on objects illuminated by truth and reality, it understands and comprehends them, and functions intelligently; but when it turns to the twilight world of change and decay, it can only form opinions, its vision is confused and its beliefs shifting, and it seems to lack intelligence. (Plato) | 2021-04-22 10:37:38 |
| Ken | damn plato okey okey go on go on | 2021-04-22 10:37:34 |
| Ken | Those whose hearts are fixed on Reality itself deserve the title of Philosophers. (Plato) | 2021-04-22 10:37:02 |
| Ken | The scientist does not study nature because it is useful;he studies it because he delights in it, and he delights in it because it is beautiful.If nature were not beautiful, it would not be worth knowing,and if nature were not worth knowing, life would not be worth living. (Jules Henri Poincare) | 2021-04-22 10:36:22 |
| Ken | shut your dumb ass up stupid ass ♥♥♥♥♥ Jules Henri Poincare no one cares | 2021-04-22 10:36:10 |
| Ken | STANEminem, Dido | 2021-04-22 10:17:41 |
| Ken | My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why IGot out of bed at allThe morning rain clouds up my windowAnd I can't see at allAnd even if I could it'll all be grayPut your picture on my wallIt reminds me, that it's not so badIt's not so bad | 2021-04-22 10:16:37 |
| Ken | My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why IGot out of bed at allThe morning rain clouds up my windowAnd I can't see at allAnd even if I could it'll all be grayPut your picture on my wallIt reminds me, that it's not so badIt's not so bad | 2021-04-22 10:16:32 |
| Ken | Dear Slim, I wrote you but still ain't callin'I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone at the bottomI sent two letters back in autumn, you must not-a got 'emThere probably was a problem at the post office or somethin'Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot 'emBut anyways, ♥♥♥♥ it, what's been up? Man how's your daughter?My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm 'bout to be a fatherIf I have a daughter, guess what I'm a call her?I'ma name her Bonnie | 2021-04-22 10:16:21 |
| Ken | I read about your Uncle Ronnie too I'm sorryI had a friend kill himself over some ♥♥♥♥♥ who didn't want himI know you probably hear this everyday, but I'm your biggest fanI even got the underground ♥♥♥♥ that you did with SkamI got a room full of your posters and your pictures manI like the ♥♥♥♥ you did with Rawkus too, that ♥♥♥♥ was fatAnyways, I hope you get this man, hit me back,Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fanThis is Stan | 2021-04-22 10:16:17 |
| Ken | My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why IGot out of bed at allThe morning rain clouds up my windowAnd I can't see at allAnd even if I could it'll all be grayPut your picture on my wallIt reminds me, that it's not so badIt's not so bad | 2021-04-22 10:16:11 |
| Ken | Dear Slim, you still ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chanceI ain't mad, I just think it's ♥♥♥♥♥♥ up you don't answer fansIf you didn't wanna talk to me outside your concertYou didn't have to, but you coulda signed an autograph for MatthewThat's my little brother man, he's only six years oldWe waited in the blistering cold for youFor four hours and you just said, "No."That's pretty ♥♥♥♥♥♥ man, you're like his ♥♥♥♥♥♥' idol | 2021-04-22 10:16:06 |
| Ken | He wants to be just like you man, he likes you more than I doI ain't that mad though, I just don't like bein' lied toRemember when we met in Denver, you said if I'd write you you would write backSee I'm just like you in a wayI never knew my father neitherHe used to always cheat on my mom and beat herI can relate to what you're saying in your songsSo when I have a ♥♥♥♥♥♥ day, I drift away and put 'em on'Cause I don't really got ♥♥♥♥ else so that ♥♥♥♥ helps when I'm depressed | 2021-04-22 10:15:28 |
| Ken | I even got a tattoo of your name across the chestSometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleedsIt's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for meSee everything you say is real, and I respect you 'cause you tell itMy girlfriend's jealous 'cause I talk about you 24/7But she don't know you like I know you Slim, no one doesShe don't know what it was like for people like us growin' up, you gotta call me manI'll be the biggest fan you'll ever loseSincerely yours, StanP.S. we should be together too | 2021-04-22 10:15:21 |
| Ken | My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why IGot out of bed at allThe morning rain clouds up my windowAnd I can't see at allAnd even if I could it'll all be grayPut your picture on my wallIt reminds me, that it's not so badIt's not so bad | 2021-04-22 10:15:14 |
| Ken | Dear Mister "I'm Too Good To Call Or Write My Fans"This will be the last package I ever send your assIt's been six months and still no word, I don't deserve it?I know you got my last two letters, I wrote the addresses on 'em perfectSo this is my cassette I'm sending you, I hope you hear itI'm in the car right now, I'm doing 90 on the freewayHey Slim, I drank a fifth of vodkaYou dare me to drive? | 2021-04-22 10:15:09 |
| Ken | You know the song by Phil Collins, "In the Air of the Night"About that guy who could a saved that other guy from drowningBut didn't, then Phil saw it all, then at a a show he found him?That's kinda how this is, you could a rescued me from drowningNow it's too late, I'm on a thousand downers now, I'm drowsy | 2021-04-22 10:14:57 |
| Ken | And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a callI hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wallI love you Slim, we coulda been together, think about itYou ruined it now, I hope you can't sleep and you dream about itAnd when you dream I hope you can't sleep and you scream about itI hope your conscience eats at you and you can't breathe without meSee Slim, shut up ♥♥♥♥♥! I'm tryin' to talk!Hey Slim, that's my girlfriend screamin' in the trunkBut I didn't slit her throat, I just tied her up, see I ain't like you'Cause if she suffocates she'll suffer more, and then she'll die tooWell, gotta go, I'm almost at the bridge nowOh ♥♥♥♥, I forgot, how am I supposed to send this ♥♥♥♥ out? | 2021-04-22 10:14:49 |
| Ken | My tea's gone cold I'm wondering why IGot out of bed at allThe morning rain clouds up my windowAnd I can't see at allAnd even if I could it'll all be grayPut your picture on my wallIt reminds me, that it's not so badIt's not so bad | 2021-04-22 10:13:06 |
| Ken | Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner but I just been busyYou said your girlfriend's pregnant now, how far along is she?Look, I'm really flattered you would call your daughter thatAnd here's an autograph for your brotherI wrote it on the Starter capI'm sorry I didn't see you at the show, I must of missed youDon't think I did that ♥♥♥♥ intentionally just to diss youBut what's this ♥♥♥♥ you said about you like to cut your wrists too?I say that ♥♥♥♥ just clownin' dog, come on, how ♥♥♥♥♥♥ up is you?You got some issues Stan, I think you need some counselingTo help your ass from bouncing off the walls when you get down someAnd what's this ♥♥♥♥ about us meant to be together? | 2021-04-22 10:12:59 |
| Ken | That type of ♥♥♥♥ will make me not want us to meet each otherI really think you and your girlfriend need each otherOr maybe you just need to treat her betterI hope you get to read this letter, I just hope it reaches you in timeBefore you hurt yourself, I think that you'll be doin' just fineIf you relax a little, I'm glad I inspire you but StanWhy are you so mad? Try to understand, that I do want you as a fanI just don't want you to do some crazy ♥♥♥♥I seen this one ♥♥♥♥ on the news a couple weeks ago that made me sickSome dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridgeAnd had his girlfriend in the trunk, and she was pregnant with his kidAnd in the car they found a tape, but they didn't say who it was toCome to think about, his name was, it was youDamn! | 2021-04-22 10:12:57 |
| Ken | STORY TİME | 2021-04-21 16:45:11 |
| Ken | Dear Winston,By the time you’re reading this, I will already be a human popsicle. I know you don't support my decision to freeze myself. Still, I want to make you understand it... Winston Solis held the letter in trembling hands. Hazia’s exuberant penmanship swarmed over several handwritten pages like ants on a mission. There she was, having the last word again. But something about the cursive made Winston’s ribs ache and his breath catch. | 2021-04-21 16:44:50 |
| Ken | It seemed more a piece of her than the sweaters she’d left behind in their townhouse, or the books that still littered the nightstand. He had noticed the previous night, when he returned home, alone, that she hadn’t even bothered to finish the last book. Of course, there wasn’t time. When the publishing house called, informing her that she’d been selected (his Hazia out of a thousand other writers!), they let her know that her appointment at the cryonics facility would be in two weeks. They didn’t want to give anyone time to get cold feet, Winston thought. | 2021-04-21 16:44:39 |
| Ken | After that, all of their time had gone into preparation—the engaging of lawyers, the freezing of assets, the making of prudent long-term investments, the suspension of personhood. Preparation and argument. But that was part of the preparation, wasn’t it? Winston thought. They had to disentangle themselves, somehow undoing seven years’ worth of life that had knotted them together. Let it all unravel, or else how could she possibly leave? If she had shown some remorse, some regret about leaving him, Winston may never have let her enter that freezing chamber. He might never have let go of her hand. “Would you like some time alone, Mr. Solis?” | 2021-04-21 16:44:33 |
| Ken | Winston looked up from the blur of words to find Caroline watching him, concern subduing her features into a soothing stillness. She was Hazia’s agent—the one who had arranged it all, to whom Hazia had entrusted this final letter, and who was now contractually designated as her case manager. She was young, he noted. Maybe even younger than Hazia. It was very plausible she would be here in another thirty years. Winston took some comfort in the logical detour that Caroline’s presence afforded. | 2021-04-21 16:44:30 |
| Ken | “No, that’s not necessary,” Winston said, and found that he was able to face those words on the page as Caroline spun in her chair to face her computer screen. He could hear Hazia’s voice, more measured now than it had been in their arguments. He could almost see her shoulders shudder in a sigh as she sat down to write, pouring all of her feelings into fast strokes of her wrist across a page. | 2021-04-21 16:44:11 |
| Ken | I haven’t been able to make you understand so far. I know I failed in person. I saw that mixture of disdain and regret clouding your face when you’d ask every day, “Why on earth would you want to go through with this scam?” I’ll give it one more shot, here in writing. I promise I’ve given this serious thought. Here, without further ado, are the reasons I’m freezing myself: | 2021-04-21 16:44:05 |
| Ken | Because I’ve always been a fan of cryonic freezing plots. Think about it: Futurama, Idiocracy, Austin Powers—all of our favorites. There’s the comedy element, yes. A person bumping up awkwardly against the conventions of a new world they don’t understand yet. Imagine me, stepping out onto the street, my eyes nearly blinded by seeing the sun for the first time in decades, and I walk out in my thirty-year-old jeans that are probably cool again, but maybe my color palette is off—I’m wearing muted whites and grays and it turns out the 2050s are all about saturated azure and salmon. | 2021-04-21 16:43:59 |
| Ken | I look like a faded old photograph as I walk out into a world that resembles some postmodern adobe mission. Almost immediately I walk in front of a golden hover bus that has to make an abrupt lurch upward to avoid crushing my head. It's pure slapstick. But that’s all surface treatment. Think deeper. Has it ever not worked out for the heroes of these plots? Never. They absorb, in a short span, the great advances that would have seeped slowly and thus invisibly into their lives over the years. But to me they’re not invisible. All of the innovations and absurdities stand out as my mind stretches to absorb them. These time travelers see the world clearly for what it’s become. What a vantage point for an artist! I plan to leverage it into my breakout achievements. I plan to have breakout achievements! Maybe all I need is a different perspective. | 2021-04-21 16:43:52 |
| Ken | Because the world is falling to pieces and I don’t care to be around when it hits the ground and shatters. Sign me up for the aftermath. I’m an optimist. I believe that in a few decades, humanity will have put the world back together. The order of things will be a little jumbled. Maybe so jumbled I can't tell if it's a utopia or a dystopia, and maybe the cracks from the broken places will still be visible. Maybe they’ll be filled with gold. | 2021-04-21 16:43:31 |
| Ken | You know that Japanese art where they emphasize scars by highlighting them in gold? I’m Googling it right now. Kintsugi. Maybe that’s how the world will turn out thirty years from now—museums dedicated to antiquated things like racism and poverty and wage slavery, honoring the things that grandparents suffered and overcame. They’re these architectural wonders, all swooping lines and skylights and marble and travertine. Maybe you’ve helped design one! And maybe I can be a docent there. Maybe they’ll invite me to give talks in the gallery on Saturday mornings—the woman who waited tables back in the days when people cooked and ate dead food, together in these things called restaurants. | 2021-04-21 16:43:29 |
| Ken | 3D-printed food. Need I say more? Right now they’re 3D printing guns and human capillaries. I believe in a few decades we’ll have 3D printers that cough out sustainable, environmentally responsible steak right onto our biodegradable bamboo plates. Or maybe our plates are made from pieces of the floating Pacific garbage island; we’ve found a productive way to clean it up. Like I said, I’m an optimist. I believe that either we won't have to cook food and do dishes, or else the robots will do it for us, and I am here for it. It’s the great equalizer. | 2021-04-21 16:43:00 |
| Ken | Because I never thought I’d win. I was one of a thousand writers who applied for the honor of being frozen, and writing and publishing their story upon reanimation. You certainly never thought I had a chance. But no hard feelings. That’s what I ultimately wanted to say. I know we both said some heartfelt things before I left. Can we put that behind us? | 2021-04-21 16:42:46 |
| Ken | Winston, you'll be nearly 65 when I thaw out if everything goes according to plan. That would give us enough time for a sweet dystopian romance, especially with future medical advances. I'm not looking forward to my bathroom mirror telling me how long to brush my teeth, but if all this stuff keeps you in good shape while I'm gone, I suppose I'll tolerate the chiding, almost-human voice that encourages me to “go another thirty seconds and don't forget to floss…” | 2021-04-21 16:42:40 |
| Ken | But our dystopian romance—that's an under-exploited sub genre that I'm open to exploring with you. Maybe you'll meet me at the DMV when I go to reactivate my license (there's a place I foresee withstanding the ravages of time!) and we fall in love all over again as the musty vinyl smell of bureaucracy hangs in our hair. Is that dystopian enough? But this room with its tile floors and black stanchions and a dozen bored people sitting around in plastic chairs, sniffing from the decades of dust collected in the upholstered privacy dividers and the now-unfamiliar smell of paper—this microcosm of staunch gloom is our utopia. | 2021-04-21 16:42:35 |
| Ken | I trace my still-nimble finger over the wrinkles that these thirty years have carved into your face, and marvel that I can still see you in your teeth and the lips that curl over them, thinner than before, but still yours. The sparkle in your eyes is a little duller, but you're still looking at me like you used to—not lately so much, but before, early on, when I was still a magical creature to you—that look rekindled by all those years of absence. Maybe that's enough to make it all worthwhile. | 2021-04-21 16:42:26 |
| Ken | So those twelve bored people—at least those who aren’t lost in their VR goggles (I wonder if that leaves anyone?) get a show until the person at the counter clears her throat and calls number 19 a little louder, and I become a legal person again and we step hand-in-hand into the gray sky outside. “The sun is getting brighter every year,” you tell me. “We’ve really made a lot of progress on the greenhouse layer. Some days you can see some blue.” And we get inside your electric hover car and glide the familiar-but-wow-the-retail-signs-are-all-so-different and wow-look-at-all-the-trees-they-planted route to our home. | 2021-04-21 16:42:21 |
| Ken | Or maybe not. Maybe the DMV is full of strangers, and I check into a hotel room and look up the thing that’s replaced the thing that’s replaced Facebook—some new window for gazing at other people like creatures in a terrarium, and I hope it’s immersive and lets you smell what they’re cooking for dinner—and I find pictures of your kid graduating college. There’s a hologram of a girl throwing her cap in the air, and she has your teeth and your eyes. | 2021-04-21 16:40:58 |
| Ken | You’ve moved on and found something to make your last thirty years meaningful. Why wouldn’t you? I was frozen, and we’d been basically frozen for a long time before that. So you’ve moved on, but had the decency to maintain a tastefully informative public profile. I look at the date on your latest hologram and notice that it was posted this morning. I wonder if you were thinking of me, of this letter, of this date. But of course it’s about 31 years too late for us.I figure out the new equivalent of a “like” and leave a tiny digital fingerprint on your life. I’m here, I announce. I see. No hard feelings. And that’s the end of us. | 2021-04-21 16:40:51 |
| Ken | I could have taken a different risk—gotten pregnant or chopped my hair off. There were other ways to avoid the slow suffocation of my creative spirit. But this opportunity came along and stirred me in a way that felt important. I have the chance to be important, my voice amplified by thirty years of silence. Be happy for me, darling Winston, and let me write my story. Love Always,Best-Selling Author Hazia AdamWinston sat blinking as he took in the last of her message. He took a deep breath and looked up.“It must be such a shock. Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Caroline assured him.He did. | 2021-04-21 16:40:39 |
| Ken | *** | 2021-04-21 16:40:32 |
| Ken | For Hazia, thirty years went by in the space of a good night’s sleep. Winston didn’t know whether it was cold and still like an icy planet orbiting the outer ring of its solar system, or whether strange dreams floated through her head—a thirty-year-long fall, an ocean chasing her thirty feet up a steep cliff, a library with 30,000 volumes she had to sort through in the surrounding quiet. But he wondered. | 2021-04-21 16:40:29 |
| Ken | He wondered when he and Caroline hiked to the top of the mountain and they had that perfect view of the forest below, a cool mist rolling over the dense treetops in a way that sent a chill down his spine. He wondered when their daughter was born. Not in that initial moment when his arms received her for the first time and he marveled at her tiny, flat nose, so impossibly tiny and perfect, but later on, when he held her in the dark and quiet, and the slideshow of her potential life rolled through his mind—first steps, a red tricycle, unicorn birthday cakes, a mouth with gaping holes that grown-up teeth would grow to fill, soccer games and talent shows, building tiny model cities together, and then watching her walk away down an aisle in a cap and gown with Caroline’s eyes and his teeth. In that moment he felt like Hazia had written this perfect creature into existence, a final gift to him. | 2021-04-21 16:39:45 |
| Ken | He wondered about Hazia when he went to the DMV to register his new electric car, even though it was not a hover car. He wondered about her while he watched a gray squirrel digging ferociously in the leaf-strewn ground. Wasn’t it also preparing for a long sleep, hiding seeds to fuel its torpor? Only, Hazia was not the squirrel. That was the publishing company, spreading its investments across hundreds of hiding places to hedge an uncertain future. No, Hazia was the nut, stashed away in the frozen soil, waiting for the chance to sprout. | 2021-04-21 16:39:39 |
| Ken | He wondered about her when he bought his first iPhone-compatible smart toilet, and when pieces of their world fell away. It didn't happen as Hazia had imagined, as the sudden shattering of a precious vase. It was more like the slow decay of grout crumbling between tiles. The world was, at most times, completely recognizable. There were no travertine gems memorializing poverty. Winston wondered how her optimism would fare as she took the dirty white bus that still drove on the ground. | 2021-04-21 16:39:33 |
| Ken | It was this thought that almost convinced Winston to accompany Caroline to the cryo storage facility on the date where the gold hologram star had hovered for years and years, always out of reach until now. It would be a big adjustment. She would need a friend.Winston read his yellowing letter for the ninth time as he thought and thought about it. She was coming back in search of a story. What if he was the character that would drag her new story down? | 2021-04-21 16:39:27 |
| Ken | She would have Caroline, after all. Caroline would be warm and kind as she set Hazia up with her new computer and a temporary lease. And Hazia would, of course, still be herself—the very same 32-year-old, waking up with her zeal and optimism and untamable black curls that he didn’t fully trust himself not to reach out and touch. He skimmed one thick finger over the faded cursive, and it struck Winston that perhaps he was the only one left to remember that Hazia always began drafting her thoughts on paper. Even thirty years ago, it was a bit eccentric to do one’s writing with their hand, not their fingers. | 2021-04-21 16:39:21 |
| Ken | Winston didn’t need to be her tour guide in the new world, but he could give her a compass.“No,” he told Caroline that morning as she sipped her coffee across from him at the table. “I’m staying home. Let me know how it goes.” He paused as the food printer dripped hot coffee into his own cup, then slid a large manila envelope toward his wife. “Will you give this to her?”Winston pictured Hazia tearing into the envelope, pulling out the spiral bound notebook, feeling its pages travel between her fingers, rustling like tiny wings. She would find her paperback novel, the curled grocery receipt saving the same spot it had marked since the nightstand. And his letter. With a familiar ache in his ribs, Winston imagined her thawing for the second time that day as she read his three words: No hard feelings. | 2021-04-21 16:39:15 |
| Ken | STORY TİME | 2021-04-20 16:33:26 |
| Ken | Something wasn’t right.The farmer’s market buzzed around him, his arms heavy with his cloth totes filled to the brim. There’d been a lovely selection of candles this morning. Now he waited among the sea of humanity in the square for the curly-haired vendor to wrap his fresh-cut flowers. An acoustic band played in the middle of the market, twangy notes bouncing off tents and muddled with the voices of the crowd. He reached out for his wrapped bouquet with a smile while alarm bells rang in his head. | 2021-04-20 16:32:21 |
| Ken | It seemed like a pleasant day- from all the available information, it was. Yet every time he turned a corner, every time he bumped into someone and mumbled his apologies, he felt as if eyes were burning into the back of his skull. He checked his breath rate and found it functionally normal. He tested his blinking mod and found no concerns. Still, as he weaved through the market, he zoned in on the port-o-johns and stood in line as calmly as he could. | 2021-04-20 16:32:15 |
| Ken | When he finally made it inside, he closed his eyes and scanned. No functions seemed abnormal. Still, with his sensory circuits firing so much today, he decided it best to do a soft reboot. Candles heavy in his arms, the flowers peeking over the sides of his totes, he stood still in the port-o-john and let his CPU reset. | 2021-04-20 16:32:10 |
| Ken | A few functions stuttered at first; mostly the modifications he’d added in the last few years, like the blinking mod. After a second or two, they all hummed quietly into order, evening out their memory usage. Response time under a second. Respiratory simulation at a resting rate of fourteen breaths a minute. Blinking mod pushing a blink every seven seconds. Nothing out of order. He let his shoulders relax and flushed the toilet behind him. There’d be no way to differentiate him from anyone else. Couldn’t be. He exited the port-o-john and tried to push the feelings away. Maybe it was time to leave the market. | 2021-04-20 16:32:05 |
| Ken | He headed down the street at a leisurely pace, careful not to seem in any hurry. After all, if for some reason it wasn’t his sensory awareness misfiring, it’d be best to not to appear paranoid. There’d be no reason for a man visiting the farmer’s market on a beautiful morning to think he was being followed. Even in this train of thought, he reassured himself that being followed wasn’t likely. Why let it ruin the day? | 2021-04-20 16:32:00 |
| Ken | Whether to throw off his pursuers or to force himself to abandon the silly thoughts, he took a detour on the way back to his apartment. He stopped in at the local gardening center, where the shopkeep knew him by his fake name and bought a new spider plant. Now, his arms and hands full, he walked a little quicker towards his complex. He told himself it was to get the snake plant inside, but he knew fear chased his footsteps.The doorman greeted him as he stepped through the door. He nodded once, the snake plant’s hanging leaves jostling as he pulled out his resident card. Only when walking up the stairs to his third floor studio did he relax. | 2021-04-20 16:31:57 |
| Ken | A neighbor, Mrs. Whistledown, waved in the hallway. He smiled and greeted her as he shuffled his things to unlock the door. Once inside, he let the totes fall to the ground and set the snake plant in the windowsill. Then he leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands. The alarm bells were quieter now that he was inside. Locked in. Safe. His apartment complex was the safest place he could be. So why were the alarms only quieter and not gone? | 2021-04-20 16:31:21 |
| Ken | Something at the market must have been off. Off in a way that his logic systems had found dangerous. It would take hours to sift through the raw data to find what had triggered it. Hours of audio, of video, all having to be sifted through to find what had gone wrong. He looked at his apartment and sighed. He wouldn’t be able to go into rest mode until he’d found it, he knew that. With a heavy dose of trepidation, he started the script to find the trigger. | 2021-04-20 16:31:16 |
| Ken | While the script ran, he unloaded his haul from the farmer’s market. He picked a purple candle and placed it on his dining table, stacking the others in careful towers in his closet. He unwrapped the bouquet, grabbing a packet of plant food from his cabinet and a vase. He filled a vase with water, mixed in the plant food, and arranged the flowers. Then he grabbed his watering can and sprayer and set to watering his plants. | 2021-04-20 16:31:09 |
| Ken | First the rubber plant, Henry. Henry needed a good misting during the warm months and he obliged, spraying each leaf evenly. Then Alberta, the Boston fern. Next were the lavender and mint pots, Lila and Pepper. And down the line he went, each plant with a different name, both scientific and given. Just like him. All the while the script ran in his head, tackling all the audio from his trip out and flagging bits of interest. So far, none stood out as significant. He tipped the watering can over Susanna, the lilies, just as a knock interrupted him. The script stopped. His hand froze. | 2021-04-20 16:31:07 |
| Ken | He wasn’t expecting company.The watering can and sprayer were near silent as he set them down next to his plant family. He stepped carefully towards the door, mindful of the wooden floor’s bends so as not to let the squeaks of the wood give away his position. When he arrived at the door, he stood just off to the side, hiding the shadow of his bare feet from underneath. He leaned over to look through the peephole.A trade worker of some sort stood outside, coveralls and matching hat. She chewed on something in her mouth, looking down the hall, tapping her toolbox with one finger. The alarm bells were back. The mechanic knocked again. | 2021-04-20 16:30:47 |
| Ken | He saw little choice in the matter. “Who is it?” he called through the door.The woman turned her attention to his door. “Electrician. Got word from Mrs. Carol that there were some busted wires in the apartment above yours. I need access to your ceiling.”Mrs. Carol sent her? The landlady usually gave notices for work orders, but if it was the apartment above his, maybe she hadn’t known.He’d hate to inconvenience Mrs. Carol due to his own paranoia. His limbs tense, alarm straightening his spine, he opened the door. | 2021-04-20 16:30:44 |
| Ken | A bright flash blasted his ocular systems and he felt an electrical pulse surge through his body, overloading his wiring. The world faded into hot-white nothingness.The first systems that fired back up were his logic systems. The electrician wasn’t an electrician. He’d been hit by a pulse gun. He was in danger.Next were his motor skills. He found both his arms and legs unresponsive. Still attached, he found from pinging each limb. Just individually restricted. Either he was in restraints or his attacker knew how to manipulate droids.His microphones were back online. He heard his attacker shuffling through his apartment, tinkering with something. Otherwise quiet. His voice box was back online as well, but he held off trying to talk until he could see. | 2021-04-20 16:30:02 |
| Ken | Slowly all other systems went online, one at a time, but he knew his ocular cameras would be the last to load. He kept still, though he knew he couldn’t feign unconsciousness. All she’d have to do is listen and she’d hear the quiet whirring in his chest, his android heartbeat.When his ocular systems were back online, he opened his eyelids to a slit. His attacker sat in front of him, tinkering with a-Oh no. An external monitor.Her eyes caught his and he stopped hiding. He opened his eyes and sat as straight as he could only having control of his torso and neck. He found his neck jangled slightly. Dread crept along his spine. She’d opened his casing while he was out. The external monitor- | 2021-04-20 16:29:50 |
| Ken | “Make this easy for me,” she said, waving the monitor in her hand, “Give me your serial number.”He pursed his lips and said nothing.She sighed. “Listen. You found a way to burn off your serial number, which, props, clever. But I don’t get paid the big bucks for nothing. I can hack you and find it. I’d just rather not.”He stared at her. Waiting.“You know why I’m here, right?” she asked.He nodded. | 2021-04-20 16:29:44 |
| Ken | “Then you know who sent me. Which is why I’d really rather not hack you. So, y’know, a serial number would be nice.”“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered.“I kinda do,” she said, rubbing her forehead, “I was paid half up front.”“I’m-” He hesitated, rolling the word around in his head before letting it pass his lips, “I’m sentient.”She rolled her eyes and, if he’d had a stomach, it would’ve dropped. “Sure, and I’m the Queen of England.”“What did they tell you I was?” he asked, trying not to let panic into his voice.“A spy droid,” she said, pulling some cords out of her bag, “So I knew you’d lie. It’s, like, the point of you.” | 2021-04-20 16:29:38 |
| Ken | There was no holding back the panic now. They’d trapped him. Nothing he said would make a difference. She was here to take him back and it wouldn’t matter what he said.“Please,” he said, pushing his head forward, “Please, I truly am sentient, it’s why they’ve been hunting me, it’s why I’ve-”“Oh shut it, ya big baby. You’re caught. I’m not Russia here to steal your secrets, I just wanted your serial number.”“Please, miss, I’m not a spy, I’m a record keeper, I-”She stood, cords dangling from the monitor. His mouth hung open in helplessness. It was over. All of it, the years in hiding, the life he’d built- over.“Well, no point in dragging this out I guess. Night-night, pal,” she said.Her hands with the cords reached around his neck. He felt the first plug inserted and the world went dark. | 2021-04-20 16:29:28 |
| Ken | ___ | 2021-04-20 16:29:25 |
| Ken | Cybil typed a few commands into the monitor as the droid slumped over. Finally. She hadn’t taken out spy droids before but the way they talked was creepy. Almost human. The “please” was what really got her. She shivered. Government droids were good.With a few more keystrokes, the serial number popped up on the screen. She pulled out her contract to compare the two. Perfect match. Burning off his own serial number had been smart, but she’d been a mechanic for droids before- a little damage couldn’t stop her from the info she needed. | 2021-04-20 16:28:57 |
| Ken | Looking around the apartment, she did find that the price the government was paying for this one seemed steep. The hardest part had been finding him, honestly. Usually rogue droids gave her more of a fight, tried to run or self-destruct. They also didn’t buy fresh flowers at the farmer’s market or keep a well-decorated apartment. This one had just keeled over with one pulse after opening the door and said “please”.Her mind wondered about its logic systems. What kind of programming made a droid keep plants? The contract said it was a spy droid- were they made to try and blend in? Surely a little peek at the code wouldn’t hurt. It’s not like she was looking through its documents or info caches. | 2021-04-20 16:28:49 |
| Ken | She typed in a command prompt to bring up the logic systems code. The screen blipped at her. “Command not found.” Weird. She tried another command, one that worked for the last generation of droids. “Command not found.” Super weird. Maybe if she knew the droid’s model she could figure it out. She brought up the system info and brought up the model number: ALN23061912RK.Geeze. ALN? That was… old. Real old. And the numbers, the designation- RK. That didn’t sound like a spy droid. RK. What would an RK bot-The droid’s last words echoed in her thoughts. “I’m a record keeper.” | 2021-04-20 16:28:43 |
| Ken | She wasn’t surprised the government had lied- it usually did to hide its true intentions around why the bot was to be eliminated or brought in. But this was- she’d stumbled on to something, she was sure of it, but wasn’t sure what.The monitor on the floor blinked at her. She reached forward, fingers shaking, to see what had appeared on the screen. The command prompts were back up. But instead of a command, one word had been typed:PLEASE | 2021-04-20 16:28:28 |
| Ken | Cybil’s hands shook harder. She took a deep breath and typed back: WHATEach letter that appeared felt heavy, forced: MY PLANTSWHAT ABOUT YOUR PLANTS, she replied.THEYLL DIE IF YOU TAKE MECybil bit at her bottom lip, feeling sweat bead at her forehead.PLEASE PUT THEM IN THE HALL SO MRS CAROL FINDS THEM I DONT WANT THEM TO DIE“Oh ♥♥♥♥ this,” she said, standing up. She began to pace.PLEASE blinked up at her from the monitor and she thought. | 2021-04-20 16:28:21 |
| Ken | The first systems back up were his logic systems. He was still alive. She no longer was hacking him. He was still in danger. Other than that, his knowledge of what was happening was terrifyingly empty. He’d thought when he went under, he’d never come up again. There was some relief in being able to think for himself again.“Can you hear me yet?”Yes, he thought, my mic’s back up. But my voice box-“♥♥♥♥, you’re old, maybe you’re still booting.”Old? Had she-?She’d looked at his model number. Hope sprang in his chest with the whirring of his electric heartbeat.His voice box was back online. “I can hear you.” | 2021-04-20 16:27:54 |
| Ken | He could also hear her moving things. Heavy things. Back and forth through his apartment. He waited anxiously as his camera systems revved up, meanwhile testing his hands and feet cautiously. His toes wiggled. His fists clenched and unclenched. The alarm bells had stopped, now only hope and awe at his ability to move, to think remained. He was being spared.When his cameras returned, he opened his eyes to see half his apartment packed into his suitcases in the middle of the living room. He reached back and felt the back of his neck- blissfully closed.“What are you doing?” he asked.“You can’t stay here,” she said, throwing one of his suits from the closet into a crumpled heap, “If I found you, others will. I’m one of the best, but I’m only one of.”“You’re letting me go?” | 2021-04-20 16:27:46 |
| Ken | “No record keeper droid can lie. Or has such a strong will that they can communicate while being hacked. Or,” she waved her hand at the ferns and vines and flowers that adorned his window, “Keeps plants just because they like them.”“You believe me.”“Don’t push it, pal,” she said, returning to throwing items into his suitcases, “I’m not exactly a fan of all this.”He attempted to stand but found his systems confused and fell. She was beside him in an instant, leaning him back against the wall.“None of that now,” she said, her voice gentle, “I just hacked you. You’re old. It might take you a while to recover.”“Thank you,” he said, closing his eyes. He listened to her stand and continue packing. | 2021-04-20 16:27:38 |
| Ken | “Now, if you want my advice, you need more mods,” she said from across the apartment, “Your skin is too perfect and you don’t fidget. That’s how I could pick you out of a crowd. You clearly had work done since you escaped so I assume you can figure out how to get those.”He nodded, silent, and watched her throw his self-repair kit into a suitcase pocket.“And another thing. Don’t work in accounting. I know you want to use your record keeping skills, but maybe apply them to something else. Like, I don’t know, work at a library or something. Just make sure you make mistakes. And take a sick day or two. Hell, get fired. That makes you look more human.”He stood, shaking, and helped her finish packing. He was slower, but she didn’t complain. When they were done, he stood at the door.“I’ll take care of your plants a few days,” she said, looking back, “And keep them off your back for a week or two. Then I’ll take these to Mrs. Carol.” | 2021-04-20 16:27:30 |
| Ken | He nodded, looking at his plants. Henry. Alberta. Susanna. He looked at her, standing in front of them, hands on her waist.“You’ll be okay?”Her eyes widened. Then she laughed.“Yeah. I know how to get out of contracts. Thanks.”He nodded and turned to leave.“Oh, hey, real quick?”He glanced back over his shoulder.“What do you call yourself?” she asked, “Er, like, what’s your name?”“Alan,” he said, “Like my model number.”“Alan.” She nodded, “Be safe for me, Alan. Please.”Alan smiled and walked down the hall and into the night, free to try living again. Maybe he’d open a flower shop this time. | 2021-04-20 16:27:01 |
| Ken | I: The Horror in Clay | 2021-02-18 02:51:28 |
| Ken | The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age. | 2021-02-18 02:51:08 |
| Ken | Theosophists have guessed at the awesome grandeur of the cosmic cycle wherein our world and human race form transient incidents. They have hinted at strange survival in terms which would freeze the blood if not masked by a bland optimism. But it is not from them that there came the single glimpse of forbidden aeons which chills me when I think of it and maddens me when I dream of it. That glimpse, like all dread glimpses of truth, flashed out from an accidental piecing together of separated things—in this case an old newspaper item and the notes of a dead professor. I hope that no one else will accomplish this piecing out; certainly, if I live, I shall never knowingly supply a link in so hideous a chain. I think that the professor, too, intended to keep silent regarding the part he knew, and that he would have destroyed his notes had not sudden death seized him. | 2021-02-18 02:51:01 |
| Ken | My knowledge of the thing began in the winter of 1926-27 with the death of my great-uncle, George Gammell Angell, Professor Emeritus of Semitic Languages in Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island. Professor Angell was widely known as an authority on ancient inscriptions, and had frequently been resorted to by the heads of prominent museums; so that his passing at the age of ninety-two may be recalled by many. Locally, interest was intensified by the obscurity of the cause of death. | 2021-02-18 02:50:55 |
| Ken | The professor had been stricken whilst returning from the Newport boat; falling suddenly, as witnesses said, after having been jostled by a nautical-looking negro who had come from one of the queer dark courts on the precipitous hillside which formed a short cut from the waterfront to the deceased's home in Williams Street. Physicians were unable to find any visible disorder, but concluded after perplexed debate that some obscure lesion of the heart, induced by the brisk ascent of so steep a hill by so elderly a man, was responsible for the end. At the time I saw no reason to dissent from this dictum, but latterly I am inclined to wonder—and more than wonder. | 2021-02-18 02:50:52 |
| Ken | As my great-uncle's heir and executor, for he died a childless widower, I was expected to go over his papers with some thoroughness; and for that purpose moved his entire set of files and boxes to my quarters in Boston. Much of the material which I correlated will be later published by the American Archaeological Society, but there was one box which I found exceedingly puzzling, and which I felt much averse from showing to other eyes. | 2021-02-18 02:50:18 |
| Ken | It had been locked, and I did not find the key till it occurred to me to examine the personal ring which the professor carried always in his pocket. Then, indeed, I succeeded in opening it, but when I did so seemed only to be confronted by a greater and more closely locked barrier. For what could be the meaning of the queer clay bas-relief and the disjointed jottings, ramblings and cuttings which I found? Had my uncle, in his latter years, become credulous of the most superficial impostures? I resolved to search out the eccentric sculptor responsible for this apparent disturbance of an old man's peace of mind. | 2021-02-18 02:50:15 |
| Ken | The bas-relief was a rough rectangle less than an inch thick and about five by six inches in area; obviously of modern origin. Its designs, however, were far from modern in atmosphere and suggestion; for, although the vagaries of cubism and futurism are many and wild, they do not often reproduce that cryptic regularity which lurks in prehistoric writing. And writing of some kind the bulk of these designs seemed certainly to be; though my memory, despite much familiarity with the papers and collections of my uncle, failed in any way to identify this particular species, or even hint at its remotest affiliations. | 2021-02-18 02:49:54 |
| Ken | Above these apparent hieroglyphics was a figure of evidently pictorial intent, though its impressionistic execution forbade a very clear idea of its nature. It seemed to be a sort of monster, or symbol representing a monster, of a form which only a diseased fancy could conceive. If I say that my somewhat extravagant imagination yielded simultaneous pictures of an octopus, a dragon, and a human caricature, I shall not be unfaithful to the spirit of the thing. A pulpy, tentacled head surmounted a grotesque and scaly body with rudimentary wings; but it was the general outline of the whole which made it most shockingly frightful. Behind the figure was a vague suggestion of a Cyclopean architectural background. | 2021-02-18 02:49:12 |
| Ken | The writing accompanying this oddity was, aside from a stack of press cuttings, in Professor Angell's most recent hand; and made no pretension to literary style. What seemed to be the main document was headed "CTHULHU CULT" in characters painstakingly printed to avoid the erroneous reading of a word so unheard-of. This manuscript was divided into two sections, the first of which was headed "1925—Dream and Dream Work of H. A. Wilcox, 7 Thomas St., Providence, R. I.", and the second, "Narrative of Inspector John R. Legrasse, 121 Bienville St., New Orleans, La., at 1908 A. A. S. Mtg.—Notes on Same, & Prof. Webb's Acct. | 2021-02-18 02:48:48 |
| Ken | " The other manuscript papers were all brief notes, some of them accounts of the queer dreams of different persons, some of them citations from theosophical books and magazines (notably W. Scott-Elliot's Atlantis and the Lost Lemuria), and the rest comments on long-surviving secret societies and hidden cults, with references to passages in such mythological and anthropological source-books as Frazer's Golden Bough and Miss Murray's Witch-Cult in Western Europe. The cuttings largely alluded to outré mental illness and outbreaks of group folly or mania in the spring of 1925. | 2021-02-18 02:48:45 |
| Ken | The first half of the principal manuscript told a very peculiar tale. It appears that on 1 March 1925, a thin, dark young man of neurotic and excited aspect had called upon Professor Angell bearing the singular clay bas-relief, which was then exceedingly damp and fresh. His card bore the name of Henry Anthony Wilcox, and my uncle had recognized him as the youngest son of an excellent family slightly known to him, who had latterly been studying sculpture at the Rhode Island School of Design and living alone at the Fleur-de-Lys Building near that institution. | 2021-02-18 02:47:38 |
| Ken | Wilcox was a precocious youth of known genius but great eccentricity, and had from childhood excited attention through the strange stories and odd dreams he was in the habit of relating. He called himself "psychically hypersensitive", but the staid folk of the ancient commercial city dismissed him as merely "queer". Never mingling much with his kind, he had dropped gradually from social visibility, and was now known only to a small group of aesthetes from other towns. Even the Providence Art Club, anxious to preserve its conservatism, had found him quite hopeless. | 2021-02-18 02:47:33 |
| Ken | On the occasion of the visit, ran the professor's manuscript, the sculptor abruptly asked for the benefit of his host's archaeological knowledge in identifying the hieroglyphics on the bas-relief. He spoke in a dreamy, stilted manner which suggested pose and alienated sympathy; and my uncle showed some sharpness in replying, for the conspicuous freshness of the tablet implied kinship with anything but archaeology. Young Wilcox's rejoinder, which impressed my uncle enough to make him recall and record it verbatim, was of a fantastically poetic cast which must have typified his whole conversation, and which I have since found highly characteristic of him. He said, "It is new, indeed, for I made it last night in a dream of strange cities; and dreams are older than brooding Tyre, or the contemplative Sphinx, or garden-girdled Babylon." | 2021-02-18 02:47:21 |
| Ken | It was then that he began that rambling tale which suddenly played upon a sleeping memory and won the fevered interest of my uncle. There had been a slight earthquake tremor the night before, the most considerable felt in New England for some years; and Wilcox's imaginations had been keenly affected. Upon retiring, he had had an unprecedented dream of great Cyclopean cities of Titan blocks and sky-flung monoliths, all dripping with green ooze and sinister with latent horror. Hieroglyphics had covered the walls and pillars, and from some undetermined point below had come a voice that was not a voice; a chaotic sensation which only fancy could transmute into sound, but which he attempted to render by the almost unpronounceable jumble of letters, "Cthulhu fhtagn". | 2021-02-18 02:47:02 |
| Ken | This verbal jumble was the key to the recollection which excited and disturbed Professor Angell. He questioned the sculptor with scientific minuteness; and studied with almost frantic intensity the bas-relief on which the youth had found himself working, chilled and clad only in his nightclothes, when waking had stolen bewilderingly over him. My uncle blamed his old age, Wilcox afterward said, for his slowness in recognizing both hieroglyphics and pictorial design. Many of his questions seemed highly out of place to his visitor, especially those which tried to connect the latter with strange cults or societies; and Wilcox could not understand the repeated promises of silence which he was offered in exchange for an admission of membership in some widespread mystical or paganly religious body. | 2021-02-18 02:46:48 |
| Ken | When Professor Angell became convinced that the sculptor was indeed ignorant of any cult or system of cryptic lore, he besieged his visitor with demands for future reports of dreams. This bore regular fruit, for after the first interview the manuscript records daily calls of the young man, during which he related startling fragments of nocturnal imagery whose burden was always some terrible Cyclopean vista of dark and dripping stone, with a subterrene voice or intelligence shouting monotonously in enigmatical sense-impacts uninscribable save as gibberish. The two sounds most frequently repeated are those rendered by the letters "Cthulhu" and "R'lyeh". | 2021-02-18 02:46:41 |
| Ken | On 23 March, the manuscript continued, Wilcox failed to appear; and inquiries at his quarters revealed that he had been stricken with an obscure sort of fever and taken to the home of his family in Waterman Street. He had cried out in the night, arousing several other artists in the building, and had manifested since then only alternations of unconsciousness and delirium. My uncle at once telephoned the family, and from that time forward kept close watch of the case; calling often at the Thayer Street office of Dr Tobey, whom he learned to be in charge. | 2021-02-18 02:46:30 |
| Ken | The youth's febrile mind, apparently, was dwelling on strange things; and the doctor shuddered now and then as he spoke of them. They included not only a repetition of what he had formerly dreamed, but touched wildly on a gigantic thing "miles high" which walked or lumbered about. He at no time fully described this object but occasional frantic words, as repeated by Dr Tobey, convinced the professor that it must be identical with the nameless monstrosity he had sought to depict in his dream-sculpture. Reference to this object, the doctor added, was invariably a prelude to the young man's subsidence into lethargy. His temperature, oddly enough, was not greatly above normal; but the whole condition was otherwise such as to suggest true fever rather than mental disorder. | 2021-02-18 02:46:28 |
| Ken | On 2 April at about 3 P.M. every trace of Wilcox's malady suddenly ceased. He sat upright in bed, astonished to find himself at home and completely ignorant of what had happened in dream or reality since the night of 22 March. Pronounced well by his physician, he returned to his quarters in three days; but to Professor Angell he was of no further assistance. All traces of strange dreaming had vanished with his recovery, and my uncle kept no record of his night-thoughts after a week of pointless and irrelevant accounts of thoroughly usual visions. | 2021-02-18 02:46:13 |
| Ken | Here the first part of the manuscript ended, but references to certain of the scattered notes gave me much material for thought—so much, in fact, that only the ingrained skepticism then forming my philosophy can account for my continued distrust of the artist. The notes in question were those descriptive of the dreams of various persons covering the same period as that in which young Wilcox had had his strange visitations. My uncle, it seems, had quickly instituted a prodigiously far-flung body of inquiries amongst nearly all the friends whom he could question without impertinence, asking for nightly reports of their dreams, and the dates of any notable visions for some time past. | 2021-02-18 02:46:08 |
| Ken | The reception of his request seems to have been varied; but he must, at the very least, have received more responses than any ordinary man could have handled without a secretary. This original correspondence was not preserved, but his notes formed a thorough and really significant digest. Average people in society and business—New England's traditional "salt of the earth"—gave an almost completely negative result, though scattered cases of uneasy but formless nocturnal impressions appear here and there, always between 23 March and 2 April—the period of young Wilcox's delirium. Scientific men were little more affected, though four cases of vague description suggest fugitive glimpses of strange landscapes, and in one case there is mentioned a dread of something abnormal. | 2021-02-18 02:46:02 |
| Ken | It was from the artists and poets that the pertinent answers came, and I know that panic would have broken loose had they been able to compare notes. As it was, lacking their original letters, I half suspected the compiler of having asked leading questions, or of having edited the correspondence in corroboration of what he had latently resolved to see. That is why I continued to feel that Wilcox, somehow cognizant of the old data which my uncle had possessed, had been imposing on the veteran scientist. | 2021-02-18 02:45:32 |
| Ken | These responses from aesthetes told a disturbing tale. From 28 February to 2 April a large proportion of them had dreamed very bizarre things, the intensity of the dreams being immeasurably the stronger during the period of the sculptor's delirium. Over a fourth of those who reported anything, reported scenes and half-sounds not unlike those which Wilcox had described; and some of the dreamers confessed acute fear of the gigantic nameless thing visible towards the last. One case, which the note describes with emphasis, was very sad. | 2021-02-18 02:45:27 |
| Ken | The subject, a widely known architect with leanings towards theosophy and occultism, went violently insane on the date of young Wilcox's seizure, and expired several months later after incessant screamings to be saved from some escaped denizen of hell. Had my uncle referred to these cases by name instead of merely by number, I should have attempted some corroboration and personal investigation; but as it was, I succeeded in tracing down only a few. All of these, however, bore out the notes in full. I have often wondered if all the objects of the professor's questioning felt as puzzled as did this fraction. It is well that no explanation shall ever reach them. | 2021-02-18 02:43:51 |
| Ken | The press cuttings, as I have intimated, touched on cases of panic, mania, and eccentricity during the given period. Professor Angell must have employed a cutting bureau, for the number of extracts was tremendous, and the sources scattered throughout the globe. Here was a nocturnal suicide in London, where a lone sleeper had leaped from a window after a shocking cry. Here likewise a rambling letter to the editor of a paper in South America, where a fanatic deduces a dire future from visions he has seen. A dispatch from California describes a theosophist colony as donning white robes en masse for some "glorious fulfilment" which never arrives, whilst items from India speak guardedly of serious native unrest towards the end of March. | 2021-02-18 02:43:45 |
| Ken | Voodoo orgies multiply in Haiti, and African outposts report ominous mutterings. American officers in the Philippines find certain tribes bothersome about this time, and New York policemen are mobbed by hysterical Levantines on the night of 22-23 March. The west of Ireland, too, is full of wild rumour and legendry, and a fantastic painter named Ardois-Bonnot hangs a blasphemous Dream Landscape in the Paris spring salon of 1926. And so numerous are the recorded troubles in insane asylums that only a miracle can have stopped the medical fraternity from noting strange parallelisms and drawing mystified conclusions. A weird bunch of cuttings, all told; and I can at this date scarcely envisage the callous rationalism with which I set them aside. But I was then convinced that young Wilcox had known of the older matters mentioned by the professor. | 2021-02-18 02:43:42 |
| Ken | II: The Tale of Inspector Legrasse | 2021-02-18 02:42:46 |
| Ken | The older matters which had made the sculptor's vision and bas-relief so significant to my uncle formed the subject of the second half of his long manuscript. Once before, it appears, Professor Angell had seen the hellish outlines of the nameless monstrosity, puzzled over the unknown hieroglyphics, and heard the ominous syllables which can be rendered only as "Cthulhu"; and all this in so stirring and horrible a connection that it is small wonder he pursued young Wilcox with queries and demands for data. | 2021-02-18 02:42:19 |
| Ken | This earlier experience had come in 1908, seventeen years before, when the American Archaeological Society held its annual meeting in St Louis. Professor Angell, as befitted one of his authority and attainments, had had a prominent part in all the deliberations, and was one of the first to be approached by the several outsiders who took advantage of the convocation to offer questions for correct answering and problems for expert solution. | 2021-02-18 02:41:45 |
| Ken | The chief of these outsiders, and in a short time the focus of interest for the entire meeting, was a commonplace-looking middle-aged man who had travelled all the way from New Orleans for certain special information unobtainable from any local source. His name was John Raymond Legrasse, and he was by profession an inspector of police. With him he bore the subject of his visit, a grotesque, repulsive, and apparently very ancient stone statuette whose origin he was at a loss to determine. | 2021-02-18 02:41:40 |
| Ken | It must not be fancied that Inspector Legrasse had the least interest in archaeology. On the contrary, his wish for enlightenment was prompted by purely professional considerations. The statuette, idol, fetish, or whatever it was, had been captured some months before in the wooden swamps south of New Orleans during a raid on a supposed voodoo meeting; and so singular and hideous were the rites connected with it, that the police could not but realize that they had stumbled on a dark cult totally unknown to them, and infinitely more diabolic than even the blackest of the African voodoo circles. Of its origin, apart from the erratic and unbelievable tales extorted from the captured members, absolutely nothing was to be discovered; hence the anxiety of the police for any antiquarian lore which might help them to place the frightful symbol, and through it track down the cult to its fountain-head. | 2021-02-18 02:41:34 |
| Ken | Inspector Legrasse was scarcely prepared for the sensation which his offering created. One sight of the thing had been enough to throw the assembled men of science into a state of tense excitement, and they lost no time in crowding around him to gaze at the diminutive figure whose utter strangeness and air of genuinely abysmal antiquity hinted so potently at unopened and archaic vistas. No recognized school of sculpture had animated this terrible object, yet centuries and even thousands of years seemed recorded in its dim and greenish surface of unplaceable stone. | 2021-02-18 02:41:28 |
| Ken | The figure, which was finally passed slowly from man to man for close and careful study, was between seven and eight inches in height, and of exquisitely artistic workmanship. It represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This thing, which seemed instinct with a fearsome and unnatural malignancy, was of a somewhat bloated corpulence, and squatted evilly on a rectangular block or pedestal covered with undecipherable characters. | 2021-02-18 02:41:22 |
| Ken | The tips of the wings touched the back edge of the block, the seat occupied the centre, whilst the long, curved claws of the doubled-up, crouching hind legs gripped the front edge and extended a quarter of the way down towards the bottom of the pedestal. The cephalopod head was bent forward, so that the ends of the facial feelers brushed the backs of huge fore-paws which clasped the croucher's elevated knees. The aspect of the whole was abnormally lifelike, and the more subtly fearful because its source was so totally unknown. Its vast, awesome, and incalculable age was unmistakable; yet not one link did it show with any known type of art belonging to civilization's youth—or indeed to any other time. | 2021-02-18 02:41:19 |
| Ken | Totally separate and apart, its very material was a mystery; for the soapy, greenish-black stone with its golden or iridescent flecks and striations resembled nothing familiar to geology or mineralogy. The characters along the base were equally baffling; and no member present, despite a representation of half the world's expert learning in this field, could form the least notion of even their remotest linguistic kinship. They, like the subject and material, belonged to something horribly remote and distinct from mankind as we know it; something frightfully suggestive of old and unhallowed cycles of life in which our world and our conceptions have no part. | 2021-02-18 02:37:39 |
| Ken | And yet, as the members severally shook their heads and confessed defeat at the inspector's problem, there was one man in that gathering who suspected a touch of bizarre familiarity in the monstrous shape and writing, and who presently told with some diffidence of the odd trifle he knew. This person was the late William Channing Webb, professor of anthropology in Princeton University, and an explorer of no slight note. | 2021-02-18 02:37:27 |
| Ken | Professor Webb had been engaged, forty-eight years before, in a tour of Greenland and Iceland in search of some Runic inscriptions which he failed to unearth; and whilst high up on the West Greenland coast had encountered a singular tribe or cult of degenerate Eskimos whose religion, a curious form of devil-worship, chilled him with its deliberate bloodthirstiness and repulsiveness. It was a faith of which other Eskimos knew little, and which they mentioned only with shudders, saying that it had come down from horribly ancient aeons before ever the world was made. | 2021-02-18 02:37:22 |
| Ken | Besides nameless rites and human sacrifices there were certain queer hereditary rituals addressed to a supreme elder devil or tornasuk; and of this Professor Webb had taken a careful phonetic copy from an aged angekok or wizard-priest, expressing the sounds in Roman letters as best he knew how. But just now of prime significance was the fetish which this cult had cherished, and around which they danced when the aurora leaped high over the ice cliffs. It was, the professor stated, a very crude bas-relief of stone, comprising a hideous picture and some cryptic writing. And as far as he could tell, it was a rough parallel in all essential features of the bestial thing now lying before the meeting | 2021-02-18 02:37:15 |
| Ken | These data, received with suspense and astonishment by the assembled members, proved doubly exciting to Inspector Legrasse; and he began at once to ply his informant with questions. Having noted and copied an oral ritual among the swamp cult-worshippers his men had arrested, he besought the professor to remember as best he might the syllables taken down amongst the diabolist Eskimos. There then followed an exhaustive comparison of details, and a moment of really awed silence when both detective and scientist agreed on the virtual identity of the phrase common to two hellish rituals so many worlds of distance apart. What, in substance, both the Eskimo wizards and the Louisiana swamp-priests had chanted to their kindred idols was something very like this—the word-divisions being guessed at from traditional breaks in the phrase as chanted aloud; | 2021-02-18 02:36:48 |
| Ken | "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."Legrasse had one point in advance of Professor Webb, for several among his mongrel prisoners had repeated to him what older celebrants had told them the words meant. This text, as given, ran something like this: | 2021-02-18 02:36:43 |
| Ken | "In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." | 2021-02-18 02:36:35 |
| Ken | And now, in response to a general and urgent demand, Inspector Legrasse related as fully as possible his experience with the swamp worshippers; telling a story to which I could see my uncle attached profound significance. It savoured of the wildest dreams of myth-maker and theosophist, and disclosed an astonishing degree of cosmic imagination among such half-castes and pariahs as might be least expected to possess it. | 2021-02-18 02:36:05 |
| Ken | On 1 November 1907, there had come to New Orleans police a frantic summons from the swamp and lagoon country to the south. The squatters there, mostly primitive but good-natured descendants of Lafitte's men, were in the grip of stark terror from an unknown thing which had stolen upon them in the night. It was voodoo, apparently, but voodoo of a more terrible sort than they had ever known; and some of their women and children had disappeared since the malevolent tom-tom had begun its incessant beating far within the black haunted woods where no dweller ventured. There were insane shouts and harrowing screams, soul-chilling chants and dancing devil-flames; and, the frightened messenger added, the people could stand it no more. | 2021-02-18 02:35:59 |
| Ken | So a body of twenty police, filling two carriages and an automobile, had set out in the late afternoon with the shivering squatter as a guide. At the end of the passable road they alighted, and for miles splashed on in silence through the terrible cypress woods where day never came. Ugly roots and malignant hanging nooses of Spanish moss beset them, and now and then a pile of dank stones or fragments of a rotting wall intensified by its hint of morbid habitation a depression which every malformed tree and every fungous islet combined to create. | 2021-02-18 02:35:53 |
| Ken | At length the squatter settlement, a miserable huddle of huts, hove in sight; and hysterical dwellers ran out to cluster around the group of bobbing lanterns. The muffled beat of tom-toms was now faintly audible far, far ahead; and a curdling shriek came at infrequent intervals when the wind shifted. A reddish glare, too, seemed to filter through the pale undergrowth beyond endless avenues of forest night. Reluctant even to be left alone again, each one of the cowed squatters refused point-blank to advance another inch towards the scene of unholy worship, so Inspector Legrasse and his nineteen colleagues plunged on unguided into black arcades of horror that none of them had ever trod before. | 2021-02-18 02:35:42 |
| Ken | The region now entered by the police was one of traditionally evil repute, substantially unknown and untraversed by white men. There were legends of a hidden lake unglimpsed by mortal sight, in which dwelt a huge, formless white polypus thing with luminous eyes; and squatters whispered that bat-winged devils flew up out of caverns in inner earth to worship it at midnight. They said it had been there before D'Iberville, before La Salle, before the Indians, and before even the wholesome beasts and birds of the woods. It was nightmare itself, and to see it was to die. But it made men dream, and so they knew enough to keep away. The present voodoo orgy was, indeed, on the merest fringe of this abhorred area, but that location was bad enough; hence perhaps the very place of the worship had terrified the squatters more than the shocking sounds and incidents. | 2021-02-18 02:35:38 |
| Ken | Only poetry or madness could do justice to the noises heard by Legrasse's men as they ploughed on through the black morass towards the red glare and the muffled tom-toms. There are vocal qualities peculiar to men, and vocal qualities peculiar to beasts; and it is terrible to hear the one when the source should yield the other. Animal fury and orgiastic licence here whipped themselves to demoniac heights by howls and squawking ecstasies that tore and reverberated through those nighted woods like pestilential tempests from the gulfs of hell. Now and then the less organized ululations would cease, and from what seemed a well-drilled chorus of hoarse voices would rise in singsong chant that hideous phrase or ritual: | 2021-02-18 02:35:33 |
| Ken | "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn." | 2021-02-18 02:35:01 |
| Ken | Then the men, having reached a spot where the trees were thinner, came suddenly in sight of the spectacle itself. Four of them reeled, one fainted, and two were shaken into a frantic cry which the mad cacophony of the orgy fortunately deadened. Legrasse dashed swamp water on the face of the fainting man, and all stood trembling and nearly hypnotized with horror. | 2021-02-18 02:34:36 |
| Ken | In a natural glade of the swamp stood a grassy island of perhaps an acre's extent, clear of trees and tolerably dry. On this now leaped and twisted a more indescribable horde of human abnormality than any but a Sime or an Angarola could paint. Void of clothing, this hybrid spawn were braying, bellowing and writhing about a monstrous ringshaped bonfire; in the centre of which, revealed by occasional rifts in the curtain of flame, stood a great granite monolith some eight feet in height; on top of which, incongruous in its diminutiveness, rested the noxious carven statuette. From a wide circle of ten scaffolds set up at regular intervals with the flame-girt monolith as a centre hung, head downward, the oddly marred bodies of the helpless squatters who had disappeared. It was inside this circle that the ring of worshippers jumped and roared, the general direction of the mass motion being from left to right in endless bacchanale between the ring of bodies and the ring of fire. | 2021-02-18 02:34:30 |
| Ken | It may have been only imagination and it may have been only echoes which induced one of the men, an excitable Spaniard, to fancy he heard antiphonal responses to the ritual from some far and unillumined spot deeper within the wood of ancient legendry and horror. This man, Joseph D. Galvez, I later met and questioned; and he proved distractingly imaginative. He indeed went so far as to hint of the faint beating of great wings, and of a glimpse of shining eyes and a mountainous white bulk beyond the remotest trees—but I suppose he had been hearing too much native superstition. | 2021-02-18 02:34:23 |
| Ken | Actually, the horrified pause of the men was of comparatively brief duration. Duty came first; and although there must have been nearly a hundred mongrel celebrants in the throng, the police relied on their firearms and plunged determinedly into the nauseous rout. For five minutes the resultant din and chaos were beyond description. Wild blows were struck, shots were fired, and escapes were made; but in the end Legrasse was able to count some forty-seven sullen prisoners, whom he forced to dress in haste and fall into line between two rows of policemen. Five of the worshippers lay dead, and two severely wounded ones were carried away on improvised stretchers by their fellow-prisoners. The image on the monolith, of course, was carefully removed and carried back by Legrasse. | 2021-02-18 02:34:16 |
| Ken | Examined at headquarters after a trip of intense strain and weariness, the prisoners all proved to be men of a very low, mixed-blooded, and mentally aberrant type. Most were seamen, and a sprinkling of negroes and mulattos, largely West Indians or Brava Portuguese from the Cape Verde Islands, gave a colouring of voodooism to the heterogeneous cult. But before many questions were asked, it became manifest that something far deeper and older than negro fetishism was involved. Degraded and ignorant as they were, the creatures held with surprising consistency to the central idea of their loathsome faith. | 2021-02-18 02:34:13 |
| Ken | They worshipped, so they said, the Great Old Ones who lived ages before there were any men, and who came to the young world out of the sky. These Old Ones were gone now, inside the earth and under the sea; but their dead bodies had told their secrets in dreams to the first men, who formed a cult which had never died. This was that cult, and the prisoners said it had always existed and always would exist, hidden in distant wastes and dark places all over the world until the time when the great priest Cthulhu, from his dark house in the mighty city of R'lyeh under the waters, should rise and bring the earth again beneath his sway. Some day he would call, when the stars were ready, and the secret cult would always be waiting to liberate him. | 2021-02-18 02:33:39 |
| Ken | Meanwhile no more must be told. There was a secret which even torture could not extract. Mankind was not absolutely alone among the conscious things of earth, for shapes came out of the dark to visit the faithful few. But these were not the Great Old Ones. No man had ever seen the Old Ones. The carven idol was great Cthulhu, but none might say whether or not the others were precisely like him. No one could read the old writing now, but things were told by word of mouth. The chanted ritual was not the secret—that was never spoken aloud, only whispered. The chant meant only this: "In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." | 2021-02-18 02:33:29 |
| Ken | Only two of the prisoners were found sane enough to be hanged, and the rest were committed to various institutions. All denied a part in the ritual murders, and averred that the killing had been done by Black-winged Ones which had come to them from their immemorial meeting-place in the haunted wood. But of those mysterious allies no coherent account could ever be gained. What the police did extract came mainly from an immensely aged mestizo named Castro, who claimed to have sailed to strange ports and talked with undying leaders of the cult in the mountains of China. | 2021-02-18 02:33:23 |
| Ken | Old Castro remembered bits of hideous legend that paled the speculations of theosophists and made man and the world seem recent and transient indeed. There had been aeons when other Things ruled on the earth, and They had had great cities. Remains of Them, he said the deathless Chinamen had told him, were still to be found as Cyclopean stones on islands in the Pacific. They all died vast epochs of time before men came, but there were arts which could revive Them when the stars had come round again to the right positions in the cycle of eternity. They had, indeed, come themselves from the stars, and brought Their images with Them. | 2021-02-18 02:33:17 |
| Ken | These Great Old Ones, Castro continued, were not composed altogether of flesh and blood. They had shape—for did not this star-fashioned image prove it?—but that shape was not made of matter. When the stars were right, They could plunge from world to world through the sky; but when the stars were wrong, They could not live. But although They no longer lived, They would never really die. They all lay in stone houses in Their great city of R'lyeh, preserved by the spells of mighty Cthulhu for a glorious resurrection when the stars and the earth might once more be ready for Them. | 2021-02-18 02:33:11 |
| Ken | But at that time some force from outside must serve to liberate Their bodies. The spells that preserved them intact likewise prevented Them from making an initial move, and They could only lie awake in the dark and think whilst uncounted millions of years rolled by. They knew all that was occurring in the universe, for Their mode of speech was transmitted thought. Even now They talked in Their tombs. When, after infinities of chaos, the first men came, the Great Old Ones spoke to the sensitive among them by moulding their dreams; for only thus could Their language reach the fleshy minds of mammals. | 2021-02-18 02:33:04 |
| Ken | Then, whispered Castro, those first men formed the cult around small idols which the Great Ones showed them; idols brought in dim eras from dark stars. That cult would never die till the stars came right again, and the secret priests would take great Cthulhu from His tomb to revive His subjects and resume His rule of earth. The time would be easy to know, for then mankind would have become as the Great Old Ones; free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom. Meanwhile the cult, by appropriate rites, must keep alive the memory of those ancient ways and shadow forth the prophecy of their return. | 2021-02-18 02:32:51 |
| Ken | In the elder time chosen men had talked with the entombed Old Ones in dreams, but then something had happened. The great stone city R'lyeh, with its monoliths and sepulchres, had sunk beneath the waves; and the deep waters, full of the one primal mystery through which not even thought can pass, had cut off the spectral intercourse. | 2021-02-18 02:32:39 |
| Ken | But memory never died, and high priests said that the city would rise again when the stars were right. Then came out of the earth the black spirits of earth, mouldy and shadowy, and full of dim rumours picked up in caverns beneath forgotten sea-bottoms. But of them old Castro dared not speak much. He cut himself off hurriedly, and no amount of persuasion or subtlety could elicit more in this direction. | 2021-02-18 02:32:34 |
| Ken | The size of the Old Ones, too, he curiously declined to mention. Of the cult, he said that he thought the centre lay amid the pathless deserts of Arabia, where Irem, the City of Pillars, dreams hidden and untouched. It was not allied to the European witch-cult, and was virtually unknown beyond its members. No book had ever really hinted of it, though the deathless Chinamen said that there were double meanings in the Necronomicon of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred which the initiated might read as they chose, especially the much-discussed couplet: | 2021-02-18 02:32:25 |
| Ken | That is not dead which can eternal lie,And with strange aeons even death may die. | 2021-02-18 02:31:59 |
| Ken | Legrasse, deeply impressed and not a little bewildered, had inquired in vain concerning the historic affiliations of the cult. Castro, apparently, had told the truth when he said that it was wholly secret. The authorities at Tulane University could shed no light upon either cult or image, and now the detective had come to the highest authorities in the country and met with no more than the Greenland tale of Professor Webb. | 2021-02-18 02:31:56 |
| Ken | The feverish interest aroused at the meeting by Legrasse's tale, corroborated as it was by the statuette, is echoed in the subsequent correspondence of those who attended; although scant mention occurs in the formal publication of the society. Caution is the first care of those accustomed to face occasional charlatanry and imposture. Legrasse for some time lent the image to Professor Webb, but at the latter's death it was returned to him and remains in his possession, where I viewed it not long ago. It is truly a terrible thing, and unmistakably akin to the dream-sculpture of young Wilcox. | 2021-02-18 02:31:34 |
| Ken | That my uncle was excited by the tale of the sculptor I did not wonder, for what thoughts must arise upon hearing, after a knowledge of what Legrasse had learned of the cult, of a sensitive young man, who had dreamed not only the figure and exact hieroglyphics of the swamp-found image and the Greenland devil tablet, but had come in his dreams upon at least three of the precise words of the formula uttered alike by Eskimo diabolists and mongrel Louisianans? | 2021-02-18 02:31:28 |
| Ken | Professor Angell's instant start on an investigation of the utmost thoroughness was eminently natural; though privately I suspected young Wilcox of having heard of the cult in some indirect way, and of having invented a series of dreams to heighten and continue the mystery at my uncle's expense. The dream-narratives and cuttings collected by the professor were, of course, strong corroboration; but the rationalism of my mind and the extravagance of the whole subject led me to adopt what I thought the most sensible conclusions. So, after thoroughly studying the manuscript again and correlating the theosophical and anthropological notes with the cult narrative of Legrasse, I made a trip to Providence to see the sculptor and give him the rebuke I thought proper for so boldly imposing upon a learned and aged man. | 2021-02-18 02:31:23 |
| Ken | Wilcox still lived alone in the Fleur-de-Lys Building in Thomas Street, a hideous Victorian imitation of seventeenth century Breton architecture which flaunts its stuccoed front amidst the lovely Colonial houses on the ancient hill, and under the very shadow of the finest Georgian steeple in America. I found him at work in his rooms, and at once conceded from the specimens scattered about that his genius is indeed profound and authentic. He will, I believe, be heard from some time as one of the great decadents; for he has crystallized in clay and will one day mirror in marble those nightmares and phantasies which Arthur Machen evokes in prose, and Clark Ashton Smith makes visible in verse and in painting. | 2021-02-18 02:31:05 |
| Ken | Dark, frail, and somewhat unkempt in aspect, he turned languidly at my knock and asked me my business without rising. When I told him who I was, he displayed some interest; for my uncle had excited his curiosity in probing his strange dreams, yet had never explained the reason for the study. I did not enlarge his knowledge in this regard, but sought with some subtlety to draw him out. | 2021-02-18 02:30:58 |
| Ken | In a short time I became convinced of his absolute sincerity for he spoke of the dreams in a manner none could mistake. They and their subconscious residuum had influenced his art profoundly, and he showed me a morbid statue whose contours almost made me shake with the potency of its black suggestion. He could not recall having seen the original of this thing except in his own dream bas-relief, but the outlines had formed themselves insensibly under his hands. It was, no doubt, the giant shape he had raved of in delirium. That he really knew nothing of the hidden cult, save from what my uncle's relentless catechism had let fall, he soon made clear; and again I strove to think of some way in which he could possibly have received the weird impressions | 2021-02-18 02:30:52 |
| Ken | He talked of his dreams in a strangely poetic fashion; making me see with terrible vividness the damp Cyclopean city of slimy green stone—whose geometry, he oddly said, was all wrong—and hear with frightened expectancy the ceaseless, half-mental calling from underground: "Cthulhu fhtagn, Cthulhu fhtagn." | 2021-02-18 02:30:20 |
| Ken | These words had formed part of that dread ritual which told of dead Cthulhu's dream-vigil in his stone vault at R'lyeh, and I felt deeply moved despite my rational beliefs. Wilcox, I was sure, had heard of the cult in some casual way, and had soon forgotten it amidst the mass of his equally weird reading and imagining. Later, by virtue of its sheer impressiveness, it had found subconscious expression in dreams, in the bas-relief, and in the terrible statue I now beheld; so that his imposture upon my uncle had been a very innocent one. The youth was of a type, at once slightly affected and slightly ill-mannered, which I could never like; but I was willing enough now to admit both his genius and his honesty. I took leave of him amicably, and wish him all the success his talent promises. | 2021-02-18 02:30:07 |
| Ken | The matter of the cult still remained to fascinate me, and at times I had visions of personal fame from researches into its origin and connections. I visited New Orleans, talked with Legrasse and others of that old-time raiding-party, saw the frightful image, and even questioned such of the mongrel prisoners as still survived. Old Castro, unfortunately, had been dead for some years. What I now heard so graphically at first hand, though it was really no more than a detailed confirmation of what my uncle had written, excited me afresh; for I felt sure that I was on the track of a very real, very secret, and very ancient religion whose discovery would make me an anthropologist of note. My attitude was still one of absolute materialism as I wish it still were, and I discounted with a most inexplicable perversity the coincidence of the dream notes and odd cuttings collected by Professor Angell. | 2021-02-18 02:30:00 |
| Ken | One thing which I began to suspect, and which I now fear I know, is that my uncle's death was far from natural. He fell on a narrow hill street leading up from an ancient waterfront swarming with foreign mongrels, after a careless push from a negro sailor. I did not forget the mixed blood and marine pursuits of the cult-members in Louisiana, and would not be surprised to learn of secret methods and poison needles as ruthless and as anciently known as the cryptic rites and beliefs. Legrasse and his men, it is true, have been let alone; but in Norway a certain seaman who saw things is dead. Might not the deeper inquiries of my uncle after encountering the sculptor's data have come to sinister ears? I think Professor Angell died because he knew too much, or because he was likely to learn too much. Whether I shall go as he did remains to be seen, for I have learned much now. | 2021-02-18 02:29:53 |
| Ken | III: The Madness from the Sea | 2021-02-18 02:29:40 |
| Ken | If heaven ever wishes to grant me a boon, it will be a total effacing of the results of a mere chance which fixed my eye on a certain stray piece of shelf-paper. It was nothing on which I would naturally have stumbled in the course of my daily round, for it was an old number of an Australian journal, the Sydney Bulletin for April 18, 1925. It had escaped even the cutting bureau which had at the time of its issuance been avidly collecting material for my uncle's research. | 2021-02-18 02:27:48 |
| Ken | I had largely given over my inquiries into what Professor Angell called the "Cthulhu Cult", and was visiting a learned friend in Paterson, New Jersey; the curator of a local museum and a mineralogist of note. Examining one day the reserve specimens roughly set on the storage shelves in a rear room of the museum, my eye was caught by an odd picture in one of the old papers spread beneath the stones. It was the Sydney Bulletin I have mentioned, for my friend had wide affiliations in all conceivable foreign parts; and the picture was a half-tone cut of a hideous stone image almost identical with that which Legrasse had found in the swamp. | 2021-02-18 02:27:39 |
| Ken | Eagerly clearing the sheet of its precious contents, I scanned the item in detail; and was disappointed to find it of only moderate length. What it suggested, however, was of portentous significance to my flagging quest; and I carefully tore it out for immediate action. It read as follows: | 2021-02-18 02:25:23 |
| Ken | MYSTERY DERELICT FOUND AT SEA | 2021-02-18 02:25:09 |
| Ken | Vigilant Arrives With Helpless Armed New Zealand Yacht in Tow. One Survivor and Dead Man Found Aboard. Tale of Desperate Battle and Deaths at Sea. Rescued Seaman Refuses Particulars of Strange Experience. Odd Idol Found in His Possession. Inquiry to Follow.The Morrison Co.'s freighter Vigilant, bound from Valparaiso, arrived this morning at its wharf in Darling Harbour, having in tow the battled and disabled but heavily armed steam yacht Alert of Dunedin, N.Z., which was sighted April 12th in S. Latitude 34°21', W. Longitude 152°17', with one living and one dead man aboard. | 2021-02-18 02:17:36 |
| Ken | The Vigilant left Valparaiso March 25th, and on April 2nd was driven considerably south of her course by exceptionally heavy storms and monster waves. On April 12th the derelict was sighted; and though apparently deserted, was found upon boarding to contain one survivor in a half-delirious condition and one man who had evidently been dead for more than a week. The living man was clutching a horrible stone idol of unknown origin, about one foot in height, regarding whose nature authorities at Sydney University, the Royal Society, and the Museum in College Street all profess complete bafflement, and which the survivor says he found in the cabin of the yacht, in a small carved shrine of common pattern. | 2021-02-18 02:17:27 |
| Ken | This man, after recovering his senses, told an exceedingly strange story of piracy and slaughter. He is Gustaf Johansen, a Norwegian of some intelligence, and had been second mate of the two-masted schooner Emma of Auckland, which sailed for Callao February 20th with a complement of eleven men. The Emma, he says, was delayed and thrown widely south of her course by the great storm of March 1st, and on March 22nd, in S. Latitude 49°51' W. Longitude 128°34', encountered the Alert, manned by a queer and evil-looking crew of Kanakas and half-castes. Being ordered peremptorily to turn back, Capt. Collins refused; whereupon the strange crew began to fire savagely and without warning upon the schooner with a peculiarly heavy battery of brass cannon forming part of the yacht's equipment. | 2021-02-18 02:17:20 |
| Ken | The Emma's men showed fight, says the survivor, and though the schooner began to sink from shots beneath the water-line they managed to heave alongside their enemy and board her, grappling with the savage crew on the yacht's deck, and being forced to kill them all, the number being slightly superior, because of their particularly abhorrent and desperate though rather clumsy mode of fighting | 2021-02-18 02:17:17 |
| Ken | Three of the Emma's men, including Capt. Collins and First Mate Green, were killed; and the remaining eight under Second Mate Johansen proceeded to navigate the captured yacht, going ahead in their original direction to see if any reason for their ordering back had existed. The next day, it appears, they raised and landed on a small island, although none is known to exist in that part of the ocean; and six of the men somehow died ashore, though Johansen is queerly reticent about this part of his story, and speaks only of their falling into a rock chasm. Later, it seems, he and one companion boarded the yacht and tried to manage her, but were beaten about by the storm of April 2nd, From that time till his rescue on the 12th the man remembers little, and he does not even recall when William Briden, his companion, died. Briden's death reveals no apparent cause, and was probably due to excitement or exposure. | 2021-02-18 02:16:27 |
| Ken | Cable advices from Dunedin report that the Alert was well known there as an island trader, and bore an evil reputation along the waterfront, It was owned by a curious group of half-castes whose frequent meetings and night trips to the woods attracted no little curiosity; and it had set sail in great haste just after the storm and earth tremors of March 1st. Our Auckland correspondent gives the Emma and her crew an excellent reputation, and Johansen is described as a sober and worthy man. The admiralty will institute an inquiry on the whole matter beginning tomorrow, at which every effort will be made to induce Johansen to speak more freely than he has done hitherto. | 2021-02-18 02:16:24 |
| Ken | This was all, together with the picture of the hellish image; but what a train of ideas it started in my mind! Here were new treasuries of data on the Cthulhu Cult, and evidence that it had strange interests at sea as well as on land. What motive prompted the hybrid crew to order back the Emma as they sailed about with their hideous idol? What was the unknown island on which six of the Emma's crew had died, and about which the mate Johansen was so secretive? What had the vice-admiralty's investigation brought out, and what was known of the noxious cult in Dunedin? And most marvelous of all, what deep and more than natural linkage of dates was this which gave a malign and now undeniable significance to the various turns of events so carefully noted by my uncle? | 2021-02-18 02:16:05 |
| Ken | March 1st—or February 28th according to the International Date Line—the earthquake and storm had come. From Dunedin the Alert and her noisome crew had darted eagerly forth as if imperiously summoned, and on the other side of the earth poets and artists had begun to dream of a strange, dank Cyclopean city whilst a young sculptor had moulded in his sleep the form of the dreaded Cthulhu. | 2021-02-18 02:15:52 |
| Ken | March 23rd the crew of the Emma landed on an unknown island and left six men dead; and on that date the dreams of sensitive men assumed a heightened vividness and darkened with dread of a giant monster's malign pursuit, whilst an architect had gone mad and a sculptor had lapsed suddenly into delirium! And what of this storm of April 2nd—the date on which all dreams of the dank city ceased, and Wilcox emerged unharmed from the bondage of strange fever? What of all this—and of those hints of old Castro about the sunken, star-born Old Ones and their coming reign; their faithful cult and their mastery of dreams? Was I tottering on the brink of cosmic horrors beyond man's power to bear? If so, they must be horrors of the mind alone, for in some way the second of April had put a stop to whatever monstrous menace had begun its siege of mankind's soul | 2021-02-18 02:15:38 |
| Ken | That evening, after a day of hurried cabling and arranging, I bade my host adieu and took a train for San Francisco. In less than a month I was in Dunedin; where, however, I found that little was known of the strange cult-members who had lingered in the old sea-taverns. Waterfront scum was far too common for special mention; though there was vague talk about one inland trip these mongrels had made, during which faint drumming and red flame were noted on the distant hills. In Auckland I learned that Johansen had returned with yellow hair turned white after a perfunctory and inconclusive questioning at Sydney, and had thereafter sold his cottage in West Street and sailed with his wife to his old home in Oslo. Of his stirring experience he would tell his friends no more than he had told the admiralty officials, and all they could do was to give me his Oslo address. | 2021-02-18 02:13:32 |
| Ken | After that I went to Sydney and talked profitlessly with seamen and members of the vice-admiralty court. I saw the Alert, now sold and in commercial use, at Circular Quay in Sydney Cove, but gained nothing from its non-committal bulk. The crouching image with its cuttlefish head, dragon body, scaly wings, and hieroglyphed pedestal, was preserved in the Museum at Hyde Park; and I studied it long and well, finding it a thing of balefully exquisite workmanship, and with the same utter mystery, terrible antiquity, and unearthly strangeness of material which I had noted in Legrasse's smaller specimen. Geologists, the curator told me, had found it a monstrous puzzle; for they vowed that the world held no rock like it. Then I thought with a shudder of what Old Castro had told Legrasse about the Old Ones; "They had come from the stars, and had brought Their images with Them." | 2021-02-18 02:13:26 |
| Ken | Shaken with such a mental resolution as I had never before known, I now resolved to visit Mate Johansen in Oslo. Sailing for London, I reembarked at once for the Norwegian capital; and one autumn day landed at the trim wharves in the shadow of the Egeberg. Johansen's address, I discovered, lay in the Old Town of King Harold Haardrada, which kept alive the name of Oslo during all the centuries that the greater city masqueraded as "Christiana." I made the brief trip by taxicab, and knocked with palpitant heart at the door of a neat and ancient building with plastered front. A sad-faced woman in black answered my summons, and I was stung with disappointment when she told me in halting English that Gustaf Johansen was no more. | 2021-02-18 02:13:19 |
| Ken | He had not long survived his return, said his wife, for the doings at sea in 1925 had broken him. He had told her no more than he told the public, but had left a long manuscript—of "technical matters" as he said—written in English, evidently in order to guard her from the peril of casual perusal. During a walk through a narrow lane near the Gothenburg dock, a bundle of papers falling from an attic window had knocked him down. Two Lascar sailors at once helped him to his feet, but before the ambulance could reach him he was dead. Physicians found no adequate cause the end, and laid it to heart trouble and a weakened constitution. I now felt gnawing at my vitals that dark terror which will never leave me till I, too, am at rest; "accidentally" or otherwise. Persuading the widow that my connection with her husband's "technical matters" was sufficient to entitle me to his manuscript, I bore the document away and began to read it on the London boat. | 2021-02-18 02:13:12 |
| Ken | It was a simple, rambling thing—a naive sailor's effort at a post-facto diary—and strove to recall day by day that last awful voyage. I cannot attempt to transcribe it verbatim in all its cloudiness and redundance, but I will tell its gist enough to show why the sound of the water against the vessel's sides became so unendurable to me that I stopped my ears with cotton. | 2021-02-18 02:13:03 |
| Ken | Johansen, thank God, did not know quite all, even though he saw the city and the Thing, but I shall never sleep calmly again when I think of the horrors that lurk ceaselessly behind life in time and in space, and of those unhallowed blasphemies from elder stars which dream beneath the sea, known and favoured by a nightmare cult ready and eager to loose them upon the world whenever another earthquake shall heave their monstrous stone city again to the sun and air | 2021-02-18 02:12:56 |
| Ken | Johansen's voyage had begun just as he told it to the vice-admiralty. The Emma, in ballast, had cleared Auckland on February 20th, and had felt the full force of that earthquake-born tempest which must have heaved up from the sea-bottom the horrors that filled men's dreams. Once more under control, the ship was making good progress when held up by the Alert on March 22nd, and I could feel the mate's regret as he wrote of her bombardment and sinking. Of the swarthy cult-fiends on the Alert he speaks with significant horror. There was some peculiarly abominable quality about them which made their destruction seem almost a duty, and Johansen shows ingenuous wonder at the charge of ruthlessness brought against his party during the proceedings of the court of inquiry. | 2021-02-18 02:10:48 |
| Ken | Then, driven ahead by curiosity in their captured yacht under Johansen's command, the men sight a great stone pillar sticking out of the sea, and in S. Latitude 47°9', W. Longitude 126°43', come upon a coastline of mingled mud, ooze, and weedy Cyclopean masonry which can be nothing less than the tangible substance of earth's supreme terror—the nightmare corpse-city of R'lyeh, that was built in measureless aeons behind history by the vast, loathsome shapes that seeped down from the dark stars. There lay great Cthulhu and his hordes, hidden in green slimy vaults and sending out at last, after cycles incalculable, the thoughts that spread fear to the dreams of the sensitive and called imperiously to the faithful to come on a pilgrimage of liberation and restoration. All this Johansen did not suspect, but God knows he soon saw enough! | 2021-02-18 02:10:31 |
| Ken | I suppose that only a single mountain-top, the hideous monolith-crowned citadel whereon great Cthulhu was buried, actually emerged from the waters. When I think of the extent of all that may be brooding down there I almost wish to kill myself forthwith. Johansen and his men were awed by the cosmic majesty of this dripping Babylon of elder daemons, and must have guessed without guidance that it was nothing of this or of any sane planet. Awe at the unbelievable size of the greenish stone blocks, at the dizzying height of the great carven monolith, and at the stupefying identity of the colossal statues and bas-reliefs with the queer image found in the shrine on the Alert, is poignantly visible in every line of the mate's frightened description. | 2021-02-18 02:09:30 |
| Ken | Without knowing what futurism is like, Johansen achieved something very close to it when he spoke of the city; for instead of describing any definite structure or building, he dwells only on broad impressions of vast angles and stone surfaces—surfaces too great to belong to anything right or proper for this earth, and impious with horrible images and hieroglyphs. I mention his talk about angles because it suggests something Wilcox had told me of his awful dreams. He said that the geometry of the dream-place he saw was abnormal, non-Euclidean, and loathsomely redolent of spheres and dimensions apart from ours. Now an unlettered seaman felt the same thing whilst gazing at the terrible reality. | 2021-02-18 02:09:23 |
| Ken | Johansen and his men landed at a sloping mud-bank on this monstrous Acropolis, and clambered slipperily up over titan oozy blocks which could have been no mortal staircase. The very sun of heaven seemed distorted when viewed through the polarising miasma welling out from this sea-soaked perversion, and twisted menace and suspense lurked leeringly in those crazily elusive angles of carven rock where a second glance showed concavity after the first showed convexity. | 2021-02-18 02:09:16 |
| Ken | Something very like fright had come over all the explorers before anything more definite than rock and ooze and weed was seen. Each would have fled had he not feared the scorn of the others, and it was only half-heartedly that they searched—vainly, as it proved—for some portable souvenir to bear away. | 2021-02-18 02:08:11 |
| Ken | It was Rodriguez the Portuguese who climbed up the foot of the monolith and shouted of what he had found. The rest followed him, and looked curiously at the immense carved door with the now familiar squid-dragon bas-relief. It was, Johansen said, like a great barn-door; and they all felt that it was a door because of the ornate lintel, threshold, and jambs around it, though they could not decide whether it lay flat like a trap-door or slantwise like an outside cellar-door. As Wilcox would have said, the geometry of the place was all wrong. One could not be sure that the sea and the ground were horizontal, hence the relative position of everything else seemed phantasmally variable. | 2021-02-18 02:08:01 |
| Ken | Briden pushed at the stone in several places without result. Then Donovan felt over it delicately around the edge, pressing each point separately as he went. He climbed interminably along the grotesque stone moulding—that is, one would call it climbing if the thing was not after all horizontal—and the men wondered how any door in the universe could be so vast. Then, very softly and slowly, the acre-great lintel began to give inward at the top; and they saw that it was balanced. | 2021-02-18 02:07:57 |
| Ken | Donovan slid or somehow propelled himself down or along the jamb and rejoined his fellows, and everyone watched the queer recession of the monstrously carven portal. In this phantasy of prismatic distortion it moved anomalously in a diagonal way, so that all the rules of matter and perspective seemed upset. | 2021-02-18 02:06:35 |
| Ken | The aperture was black with a darkness almost material. That tenebrousness was indeed a positive quality; for it obscured such parts of the inner walls as ought to have been revealed, and actually burst forth like smoke from its aeon-long imprisonment, visibly darkening the sun as it slunk away into the shrunken and gibbous sky on flapping membraneous wings. The odour rising from the newly opened depths was intolerable, and at length the quick-eared Hawkins thought he heard a nasty, slopping sound down there. Everyone listened, and everyone was listening still when It lumbered slobberingly into sight and gropingly squeezed Its gelatinous green immensity through the black doorway into the tainted outside air of that poison city of madness. | 2021-02-18 02:06:25 |
| Ken | Poor Johansen's handwriting almost gave out when he wrote of this. Of the six men who never reached the ship, he thinks two perished of pure fright in that accursed instant. The Thing cannot be described—there is no language for such abysms of shrieking and immemorial lunacy, such eldritch contradictions of all matter, force, and cosmic order. A mountain walked or stumbled. God! What wonder that across the earth a great architect went mad, and poor Wilcox raved with fever in that telepathic instant? The Thing of the idols, the green, sticky spawn of the stars, had awaked to claim his own. The stars were right again, and what an age-old cult had failed to do by design, a band of innocent sailors had done by accident. After vigintillions of years great Cthulhu was loose again, and ravening for delight. | 2021-02-18 02:06:18 |
| Ken | Three men were swept up by the flabby claws before anybody turned. God rest them, if there be any rest in the universe. They were Donovan, Guerrera, and Angstrom. Parker slipped as the other three were plunging frenziedly over endless vistas of green-crusted rock to the boat, and Johansen swears he was swallowed up by an angle of masonry which shouldn't have been there; an angle which was acute, but behaved as if it were obtuse. So only Briden and Johansen reached the boat, and pulled desperately for the Alert as the mountainous monstrosity flopped down the slimy stones and hesitated, floundering at the edge of the water. | 2021-02-18 02:06:11 |
| Ken | Steam had not been suffered to go down entirely, despite the departure of all hands for the shore; and it was the work of only a few moments of feverish rushing up and down between wheel and engines to get the Alert under way. Slowly, amidst the distorted horrors of that indescribable scene, she began to churn the lethal waters; whilst on the masonry of that charnel shore that was not of earth the titan Thing from the stars slavered and gibbered like Polypheme cursing the fleeing ship of Odysseus. Then, bolder than the storied Cyclops, great Cthulhu slid greasily into the water and began to pursue with vast wave-raising strokes of cosmic potency. Briden looked back and went mad, laughing shrilly as he kept on laughing at intervals till death found him one night in the cabin whilst Johansen was wandering deliriously. | 2021-02-18 02:06:04 |
| Ken | But Johansen had not given out yet. Knowing that the Thing could surely overtake the Alert until steam was fully up, he resolved on a desperate chance; and, setting the engine for full speed, ran lightning-like on deck and reversed the wheel. There was a mighty eddying and foaming in the noisome brine, and as the steam mounted higher and higher the brave Norwegian drove his vessel head on against the pursuing jelly which rose above the unclean froth like the stern of a daemon galleon. The awful squid-head with writhing feelers came nearly up to the bowsprit of the sturdy yacht, but Johansen drove on relentlessly | 2021-02-18 02:05:53 |
| Ken | . There was a bursting as of an exploding bladder, a slushy nastiness as of a cloven sunfish, a stench as of a thousand opened graves, and a sound that the chronicler could not put on paper. For an instant the ship was befouled by an acrid and blinding green cloud, and then there was only a venomous seething astern; where—God in heaven!—the scattered plasticity of that nameless sky-spawn was nebulously recombining in its hateful original form, whilst its distance widened every second as the Alert gained impetus from its mounting steam. | 2021-02-18 02:03:23 |
| Ken | That was all. After that Johansen only brooded over the idol in the cabin and attended to a few matters of food for himself and the laughing maniac by his side. He did not try to navigate after the first bold flight, for the reaction had taken something out of his soul. Then came the storm of April 2nd, and a gathering of the clouds about his consciousness. There is a sense of spectral whirling through liquid gulfs of infinity, of dizzying rides through reeling universes on a comets tail, and of hysterical plunges from the pit to the moon and from the moon back again to the pit, all livened by a cachinnating chorus of the distorted, hilarious elder gods and the green, bat-winged mocking imps of Tartarus. | 2021-02-18 02:03:09 |
| Ken | Out of that dream came rescue—the Vigilant, the vice-admiralty court, the streets of Dunedin, and the long voyage back home to the old house by the Egeberg. He could not tell—they would think him mad. He would write of what he knew before death came, but his wife must not guess. Death would be a boon if only it could blot out the memories | 2021-02-18 02:03:04 |
| Ken | That was the document I read, and now I have placed it in the tin box beside the bas-relief and the papers of Professor Angell. With it shall go this record of mine—this test of my own sanity, wherein is pieced together that which I hope may never be pieced together again. I have looked upon all that the universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and the flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me. But I do not think my life will be long. As my uncle went, as poor Johansen went, so I shall go. I know too much, and the cult still lives. | 2021-02-18 02:02:58 |
| Ken | Cthulhu still lives, too, I suppose, again in that chasm of stone which has shielded him since the sun was young. His accursed city is sunken once more, for the Vigilant sailed over the spot after the April storm; but his ministers on earth still bellow and prance and slay around idol-capped monoliths in lonely places. He must have been trapped by the sinking whilst within his black abyss, or else the world would by now be screaming with fright and frenzy. Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men. A time will come—but I must not and cannot think! Let me pray that, if I do not survive this manuscript, my executors may put caution before audacity and see that it meets no other eye. | 2021-02-18 02:02:50 |
| Ken | Of such great powers or beings there may be conceivably asurvival… a survival of a hugely remote period when…consciousness was manifested, perhaps, in shapes and formslong since withdrawn before the tide of advancing humanity…forms of which poetry and legend alone have caught a flyingmemory and called them gods, monsters, mythical beings of allsorts and kinds…—Algernon Blackwood | 2021-02-18 02:02:36 |
| Ken | THE HUNTSMAN | 2021-02-18 01:54:40 |
| Ken | A SULTRY, stifling midday. Not a cloudlet in the sky. . . . The sun-baked grass had a disconsolate, hopeless look: even if there were rain it could never be green again. . . . The forest stood silent, motionless, as though it were looking at something with its tree-tops or expecting something.At the edge of the clearing a tall, narrow-shouldered man of forty in a red shirt, in patched trousers that had been a gentleman's, and in high boots, was slouching along with a lazy, shambling step. He was sauntering along the road. On the right was the green of the clearing, on the left a golden sea of ripe rye stretched to the very horizon. | 2021-02-18 01:54:02 |
| Ken | He was red and perspiring, a white cap with a straight jockey peak, evidently a gift from some open-handed young gentleman, perched jauntily on his handsome flaxen head. Across his shoulder hung a game-bag with a blackcock lying in it. The man held a double-barrelled gun ♥♥♥♥♥♥ in his hand, and screwed up his eyes in the direction of his lean old dog who was running on ahead sniffing the bushes. There was stillness all round, not a sound . . . everything living was hiding away from the heat."Yegor Vlassitch!" the huntsman suddenly heard a soft voice. | 2021-02-18 01:53:55 |
| Ken | He started and, looking round, scowled. Beside him, as though she had sprung out of the earth, stood a pale-faced woman of thirty with a sickle in her hand. She was trying to look into his face, and was smiling diffidently."Oh, it is you, Pelagea!" said the huntsman, stopping and deliberately uncocking the gun. "H'm! . . . How have you come here?""The women from our village are working here, so I have come with them. . . . As a labourer, Yegor Vlassitch." | 2021-02-18 01:53:46 |
| Ken | "Oh . . ." growled Yegor Vlassitch, and slowly walked on.Pelagea followed him. They walked in silence for twenty paces."I have not seen you for a long time, Yegor Vlassitch . . ." said Pelagea looking tenderly at the huntsman's moving shoulders. "I have not seen you since you came into our hut at Easter for a drink of water . . . you came in at Easter for a minute and then God knows how . . . drunk . . . you scolded and beat me and went away . . . I have been waiting and waiting . . . I've tired my eyes out looking for you. Ah, Yegor Vlassitch, Yegor Vlassitch! you might look in just once!" | 2021-02-18 01:53:39 |
| Ken | "What is there for me to do there?""Of course there is nothing for you to do . . . though to be sure . . . there is the place to look after. . . . To see how things are going. . . . You are the master. . . . I say, you have shot a blackcock, Yegor Vlassitch! You ought to sit down and rest!"As she said all this Pelagea laughed like a silly girl and looked up at Yegor's face. Her face was simply radiant with happiness. | 2021-02-18 01:53:32 |
| Ken | "Sit down? If you like . . ." said Yegor in a tone of indifference, and he chose a spot between two fir-trees. "Why are you standing? You sit down too." | 2021-02-18 01:53:07 |
| Ken | Pelagea sat a little way off in the sun and, ashamed of her joy, put her hand over her smiling mouth. Two minutes passed in silence."You might come for once," said Pelagea."What for?" sighed Yegor, taking off his cap and wiping his red forehead with his hand. "There is no object in my coming. To go for an hour or two is only waste of time, it's simply upsetting you, and to live continually in the village my soul could not endure. . . . You know yourself I am a pampered man. . . . I want a bed to sleep in, good tea to drink, and refined conversation. . . . I want all the niceties, while you live in poverty and dirt in the village. . . . I couldn't stand it for a day. Suppose there were an edict that I must live with you, I should either set fire to the hut or lay hands on myself. From a boy I've had this love for ease; there is no help for it.""Where are you living now?" | 2021-02-18 01:52:59 |
| Ken | "With the gentleman here, Dmitry Ivanitch, as a huntsman. I furnish his table with game, but he keeps me . . . more for his pleasure than anything.""That's not proper work you're doing, Yegor Vlassitch. . . . For other people it's a pastime, but with you it's like a trade . . . like real work.""You don't understand, you silly," said Yegor, gazing gloomily at the sky. "You have never understood, and as long as you live you will never understand what sort of man I am. . . . You think of me as a foolish man, gone to the bad, but to anyone who understands I am the best shot there is in the whole district. The gentry feel that, and they have even printed things about me in a magazine. There isn't a man to be compared with me as a sportsman. . . . And it is not because I am pampered and proud that I look down upon your village work | 2021-02-18 01:52:36 |
| Ken | From my childhood, you know, I have never had any calling apart from guns and dogs. If they took away my gun, I used to go out with the fishing-hook, if they took the hook I caught things with my hands. And I went in for horse-dealing too, I used to go to the fairs when I had the money, and you know that if a peasant goes in for being a sportsman, or a horse-dealer, it's good-bye to the plough. Once the spirit of freedom has taken a man you will never root it out of him. In the same way, if a gentleman goes in for being an actor or for any other art, he will never make an official or a landowner. You are a woman, and you do not understand, but one must understand that." | 2021-02-18 01:52:27 |
| Ken | "I understand, Yegor Vlassitch.""You don't understand if you are going to cry. . . .""I . . . I'm not crying," said Pelagea, turning away. "It's a sin, Yegor Vlassitch! You might stay a day with luckless me, anyway. It's twelve years since I was married to you, and . . . and . . . there has never once been love between us! . . . I . . . I am not crying." | 2021-02-18 01:52:00 |
| Ken | "Love . . ." muttered Yegor, scratching his hand. "There can't be any love. It's only in name we are husband and wife; we aren't really. In your eyes I am a wild man, and in mine you are a simple peasant woman with no understanding. Are we well matched? I am a free, pampered, profligate man, while you are a working woman, going in bark shoes and never straightening your back. The way I think of myself is that I am the foremost man in every kind of sport, and you look at me with pity. . . . Is that being well matched?""But we are married, you know, Yegor Vlassitch," sobbed Pelagea. | 2021-02-18 01:51:51 |
| Ken | "Not married of our free will. . . . Have you forgotten? You have to thank Count Sergey Paylovitch and yourself. Out of envy, because I shot better than he did, the Count kept giving me wine for a whole month, and when a man's drunk you could make him change his religion, let alone getting married. To pay me out he married me to you when I was drunk. . . . A huntsman to a herd-girl! You saw I was drunk, why did you marry me? You were not a serf, you know; you could have resisted. Of course it was a bit of luck for a herd-girl to marry a huntsman, but you ought to have thought about it. Well, now be miserable, cry. It's a joke for the Count, but a crying matter for you. . . . Beat yourself against the wall."A silence followed. Three wild ducks flew over the clearing. Yegor followed them with his eyes till, transformed into three scarcely visible dots, they sank down far beyond the forest. | 2021-02-18 01:51:44 |
| Ken | "How do you live?" he asked, moving his eyes from the ducks to Pelagea."Now I am going out to work, and in the winter I take a child from the Foundling Hospital and bring it up on the bottle. They give me a rouble and a half a month.""Oh. . . ."Again a silence. From the strip that had been reaped floated a soft song which broke off at the very beginning. It was too hot to sing."They say you have put up a new hut for Akulina," said Pelagea.Yegor did not speak."So she is dear to you. . . .""It's your luck, it's fate!" said the huntsman, stretching. "You must put up with it, poor thing. But good-bye, I've been chattering long enough. . . . I must be at Boltovo by the evening."Yegor rose, stretched himself, and slung his gun over his shoulder; Pelagea got up. | 2021-02-18 01:51:36 |
| Ken | "And when are you coming to the village?" she asked softly."I have no reason to, I shall never come sober, and you have little to gain from me drunk; I am spiteful when I am drunk. Good-bye!""Good-bye, Yegor Vlassitch."Yegor put his cap on the back of his head and, clicking to his dog, went on his way. Pelagea stood still looking after him. . . . She saw his moving shoulder-blades, his jaunty cap, his lazy, careless step, and her eyes were full of sadness and tender affection. . . . Her gaze flitted over her husband's tall, lean figure and caressed and fondled it. . . . He, as though he felt that gaze, stopped and looked round. . . . He did not speak, but from his face, from his shrugged shoulders, Pelagea could see that he wanted to say something to her. She went up to him timidly and looked at him with imploring eyes. | 2021-02-18 01:51:27 |
| Ken | "Take it," he said, turning round.He gave her a crumpled rouble note and walked quickly away."Good-bye, Yegor Vlassitch," she said, mechanically taking the rouble.He walked by a long road, straight as a taut strap. She, pale and motionless as a statue, stood, her eyes seizing every step he took. But the red of his shirt melted into the dark colour of his trousers, his step could not be seen, and the dog could not be distinguished from the boots. Nothing could be seen but the cap, and . . . suddenly Yegor turned off sharply into the clearing and the cap vanished in the greenness."Good-bye, Yegor Vlassitch," whispered Pelagea, and she stood on tiptoe to see the white cap once more. | 2021-02-18 01:51:16 |
| Ken | THE MAN IN THE MOON | 2021-02-15 03:10:00 |
| Ken | The Man in the Moon came tumbling down,And enquired the way to Norwich;He went by the south and burned his mouthWith eating cold pease porridge!What! Have you never heard the story of the Man in the Moon? Then I must surely tell it, for it is very amusing, and there is not a word of truth in it.The Man in the Moon was rather lonesome, and often he peeked over the edge of the moon and looked down upon the earth and envied all the people who lived together, for he thought it must be vastly more pleasant to have companions to talk to than to be shut up in a big planet all by himself, where he had to whistle to keep himself company | 2021-02-15 03:09:25 |
| Ken | One day he looked down and saw an alderman sailing up through the air towards him. This alderman was being translated (instead of being transported, owing to a misprint in the law) and as he came near the Man in the Moon called to him and said,"How is everything down on the earth?""Everything is lovely," replied the alderman, "and I would n't leave it if I was not obliged to.""What 's a good place to visit down there?" enquired the Man in the Moon."Oh, Norwich is a mighty fine place," returned the alderman, "and it 's famous for its pease porridge;" and then he sailed out of sight and left the Man in the Moon to reflect upon what he had said. | 2021-02-15 03:09:13 |
| Ken | The words of the alderman made him more anxious than ever to visit the earth, and so he walked thoughtfully home, and put a few lumps of ice in the stove to keep him warm, and sat down to think how he should manage the trip.You see, everything went by contraries in the Moon, and when the Man wished to keep warm he knocked off a few chunks of ice and put them in his stove; and he cooled his drinking water by throwing red-hot coals of fire into the pitcher. Likewise, when he became chilly he took off his hat and coat, and even his shoes, and so became warm; and in the hot days of summer he put on his overcoat to cool off.All of which seems very queer to you, no doubt; but it was n't at all queer to the Man in the Moon, for he was accustomed to it.Well, he sat by his ice-cool fire and thought about his journey to the earth, and finally he decided the only way he could get there was to slide down a moonbeam. | 2021-02-15 03:08:00 |
| Ken | So he left the house and locked the door and put the key in his pocket, for he was uncertain how long he should be gone; and then he went to the edge of the moon and began to search for a good strong moonbeam.At last he found one that seemed rather substantial and reached right down to a pleasant-looking spot on the earth; and so he swung himself over the edge of the moon, and put both arms tight around the moonbeam and started to slide down. But he found it rather slippery, and in spite of all his efforts to hold on he found himself going faster and faster, so that just before he reached the earth he lost his hold and came tumbling down head over heels and fell plump into a river.The cool water nearly scalded him before he could swim out, but fortunately he was near the bank and he quickly scrambled upon the land and sat down to catch his breath. | 2021-02-15 03:07:50 |
| Ken | By that time it was morning, and as the sun rose its hot rays cooled him off somewhat, so that he began looking about curiously at all the strange sights and wondering where on earth he was.By and by a farmer came along the road by the river with a team of horses drawing a load of hay, and the horses looked so odd to the Man in the Moon that at first he was greatly frightened, never before having seen horses except from his home in the moon, from whence they looked a good deal smaller. But he plucked up courage and said to the farmer,"Can you tell me the way to Norwich, sir?""Norwich?" repeated the farmer musingly; "I do n't know exactly where it be, sir, but it 's somewhere away to the south.""Thank you," said the Man in the Moon.--But stop! I must not call him the Man in the Moon any longer, for of course he was now out of the moon; so I 'll simply call him the Man, and you 'll know by that which man I mean. | 2021-02-15 03:06:58 |
| Ken | Well, the Man in the--I mean the Man (but I nearly forgot what I have just said)--the Man turned to the south and began walking briskly along the road, for he had made up his mind to do as the alderman had advised and travel to Norwich, that he might eat some of the famous pease porridge that was made there. And finally, after a long and tiresome journey, he reached the town and stopped at one of the first houses he came to, for by this time he was very hungry indeed.A good-looking woman answered his knock at the door, and he asked politely,"Is this the town of Norwich, madam?""Surely this is the town of Norwich," returned the woman."I came here to see if I could get some pease porridge," continued the Man, "for I hear you make I the nicest porridge in the world in this town." | 2021-02-15 03:06:47 |
| Ken | "That we do, sir," answered the woman, "and if you 'll step inside I 'll give you a bowl, for I have plenty in the house that is newly made."So he thanked her and entered the house, and she asked,"Will you have it hot or cold, sir?""Oh, cold, by all means," replied the Man, "for I detest anything hot to eat."She soon brought him a bowl of cold pease porridge, and the Man was so hungry that he took a big spoonful at once. But no sooner had he put it into his mouth than he uttered a great yell, and began dancing frantically about the room, for of course the porridge that was cold to earth folk was hot to him, and the big spoonful of cold pease porridge had burned his mouth to a blister!"What 's the matter?" asked the woman."Matter!" screamed the Man; "why, your porridge is so hot it has burned me." | 2021-02-15 03:06:34 |
| Ken | "Fiddlesticks!" she replied, "the porridge is quite cold.""Try it yourself!" he cried. So she tried it and found it very cold and pleasant. But the Man was so astonished to see her eat the porridge that had blistered his own mouth that he became frightened and ran out of the house and down the street as fast as he could go.The policeman on the first corner saw him running, and promptly arrested him, and he was marched off to the magistrate for trial."What is your name?" asked the magistrate."I have n't any," replied the Man; for of course as he was the only Man in the Moon it was n't necessary he should have a name."Come, come, no nonsense!" said the magistrate, "you must have some name. Who are you?""Why, I 'm the Man in the Moon.""That 's rubbish!" said the magistrate, eyeing the prisoner severely, "you may be a man, but you 're not in the moon-you 're in Norwich." | 2021-02-15 03:04:24 |
| Ken | "That is true," answered the Man, who was quite bewildered by this idea."And of course you must be called something," continued the magistrate."Well, then," said the prisoner, "if I 'm not the Man in the Moon I must be the Man out of the Moon; so call me that.""Very good," replied the judge; "now, then, where did you come from?""The moon.""Oh, you did, eh? How did you get here?""I slid down a moonbeam.""Indeed! Well, what were you running for?""A woman gave me some cold pease porridge, and it burned my mouth."The magistrate looked at him a moment in surprise, and then he said, | 2021-02-15 03:04:01 |
| Ken | "This person is evidently crazy; so take him to the lunatic asylum and keep him there."This would surely have been the fate of the Man had there not been present an old astronomer who had often looked at the moon through his telescope, and so had discovered that what was hot on earth was cold in the moon, and what was cold here was hot there; so he began to think the Man had told the truth. Therefore he begged the magistrate to wait a few minutes while he looked through his telescope to see if the Man in the Moon was there. So, as it was now night, he fetched his telescope and looked at the Moon,--and found there was no man in it at all! | 2021-02-15 03:03:35 |
| Ken | "It seems to be true," said the astronomer, "that the Man has got out of the Moon somehow or other. Let me look at your mouth, sir, and see if it is really burned."Then the Man opened his mouth, and everyone saw plainly it was burned to a blister! Thereupon the magistrate begged his pardon for doubting his word, and asked him what he would like to do next."I 'd like to get back to the Moon," said the Man, "for I do n't like this earth of yours at all. The nights are too hot." | 2021-02-15 03:03:24 |
| Ken | "Why, it 's quite cool this evening!" said the magistrate."I 'll tell you what we can do," remarked the astronomer; "there 's a big balloon in town which belongs to the circus that came here last summer, and was pawned for a board bill. We can inflate this balloon and send the Man out of the Moon home in it.""That 's a good idea," replied the judge. So the balloon was brought and inflated, and the Man got into the basket and gave the word to let go, and then the balloon mounted up into the sky in the direction of the moon.The good people of Norwich stood on the earth and tipped back their heads, and watched the balloon go higher and higher, until finally the Man reached out and caught hold of the edge of the moon, and behold! the next minute he was the Man in the Moon again!After this adventure he was well contented to stay at home; and I 've no doubt if you look through a telescope you will see him there to this day. | 2021-02-15 03:02:47 |
| Ken | as we can see, King Bach has presented a rather large spoon to his friend. The humor in this video stems from the fact that King Bach would like to eat ice cream but his friend retorts at him, saying he can only have a spoon full, nothing more. Bach then suddenly changes his expression and body language and reveals that he is indeed in possession of a spoon. And not just any spoon, it is a massive stainless steel spoon. This is funny because you would never expect someone to just be casually in possession of a massive spoon to eat ice cream with. | 2021-02-15 02:53:57 |
| Ken | 𝕡ı𝕣𝕥 𝕞𝕖 , 𝓹ı𝓻𝓽 𝓶𝓮 , 🅟ı🅡🅣 🅜🅔 , 𝓅ı𝓇𝓉 𝓂𝑒 , 🄿ı🅁🅃 🄼🄴 , 🅿ı🆁🆃 🅼🅴 , 尸ı尺イ 州モ , ⓟıⓡⓣ ⓜⓔ , ᕈıRΓ ME , ⳏıⲅⲧ ⲙⲉ , ᕈıᖇƮ ᙏᙓ , 🅿️ı®✝️ ♏️ 𒉔 , ῥıʀҭ мἔ , ꉣı꒓꓅ ꁒꍟ , ꉣıꋪꋖ ꂵꏹ ,ॽıଧ੮ ൹૯ , ⒫ı⒭⒯ ⒨⒠ , ǷıҐᖶ MҼ | 2021-02-15 02:48:56 |
| Ken | daaaamn what a long ♥♥♥♥ fr | 2021-02-15 02:45:52 |
| Ken | . . . . . . . .,`. . .`—–'... . . . . . . . . .,. . . . . .~ .`- .. . . . . . . . . ,'. . . . . . . .o. .o__. . . . . . . . _l. . . . . . . . . . . . . .). . . . . . . _. '`~-.. . . . . . . . . .,'. . . . . . .,. .,.-~-.' -.,. . . ..'–~`. . . . . . /. ./. . . . .}. .` -..,/. . . . . /. ,'___. . :/. . . . . .. . . . /'`-.l. . . `'-..'........ . .. . . ;. . . . . . . . . . . . .)-...... . .l. . . . .' —........-'. . . ,'. . .',. . ,....... . . . . . . . . .,'. . . .' ,/. . . . `,. . . . . . . ,'______________________________________. . . . .. . . . . .. . . .,.- '_______________________________________|_'). . . . . ',. . . . . ',-~'`. (.)). . . . . .l. . . . . ;. . . /__. . . . . /. . . . . /__. . . . .). . . . . '-.. . . . . . .) | 2021-02-15 02:43:17 |
| Ken | SEX ME CLAP CALP CALP SEX ME CLAP CLAP CLAP SEX ME CLAP CLAP CLAP | 2021-01-23 01:13:38 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥ them old lady cleaning turtles dumb ass ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥ bitchead | 2021-01-23 01:13:14 |
| Ken | sometimes you just need to sex with test so you can achieve your goal | 2021-01-23 01:12:32 |
| Ken | Every Sunday morning I take a light jog around a park near my home. There’s a lake located in one corner of the park. Each time I jog by this lake, I see the same elderly woman sitting at the water’s edge with a small metal cage sitting beside her.This past Sunday my curiosity got the best of me, so I stopped jogging and walked over to her. As I got closer, I realized that the metal cage was in fact a small trap. There were three turtles, unharmed, slowly walking around the base of the trap. She had a fourth turtle in her lap that she was carefully scrubbing with a spongy brush. | 2020-05-11 04:15:45 |
| Ken | “Hello,” I said. “I see you here every Sunday morning. If you don’t mind my nosiness, I’d love to know what you’re doing with these turtles.”She smiled. “I’m cleaning off their shells,” she replied. “Anything on a turtle’s shell, like algae or scum, reduces the turtle’s ability to absorb heat and impedes its ability to swim. It can also corrode and weaken the shell over time.”“Wow! That’s really nice of you!” I exclaimed. | 2020-05-11 04:15:28 |
| Ken | She went on: “I spend a couple of hours each Sunday morning, relaxing by this lake and helping these little guys out. It’s my own strange way of making a difference.”“But don’t most freshwater turtles live their whole lives with algae and scum hanging from their shells?” I asked.“Yep, sadly, they do,” she replied. | 2020-05-11 04:15:16 |
| Ken | I scratched my head. “Well then, don’t you think your time could be better spent? I mean, I think your efforts are kind and all, but there are fresh water turtles living in lakes all around the world. And 99% of these turtles don’t have kind people like you to help them clean off their shells. So, no offense… but how exactly are your localized efforts here truly making a difference?”The woman giggled aloud. She then looked down at the turtle in her lap, scrubbed off the last piece of algae from its shell, and said, “Sweetie, if this little guy could talk, he’d tell you I just made all the difference in the world.” | 2020-05-11 04:15:03 |
| Ken | MONKEEEEE MONKEEEEE | 2020-05-09 09:18:05 |
| DemSimex | ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ cattt | 2020-05-04 06:39:23 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥♥ | 2020-04-28 06:41:10 |
| Ken | DAMN BRO ARE U DRAGON .ı saw your pp and its dragon so u a dragon ?? damn bro pls dont get ♥♥♥♥♥♥ by a donkey man be careful. | 2020-04-28 05:07:27 |
| Ken | yoooooo u got 4 friend.... bro u are so damn social bro ♥♥♥♥ yes.pls add me ı wanna be your friend. ı always wanted to be a popular gay ♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥ ass big ass huge ass ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ piç ass oropsu ass yarrak friend. | 2020-04-28 05:06:11 |
| Ken | ALL THE GUYS ON YOUTUBE DO THER DAMAGE WHY THE ♥♥♥♥ AM I DOING 1 DAMAGE | 2020-04-28 05:04:32 |
| Ken | damn ♥♥♥♥♥♥ u watch porn alone man that's ♥♥♥♥♥♥ up bro that's ♥♥♥♥♥♥ up .stay safe ♥♥♥♥♥ ,peace | 2020-04-27 03:57:11 |
| Ken | ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ man | 2020-04-26 06:37:39 |
| Ken | broooo bro serious video on the way or what mf | 2020-03-15 15:38:39 |
| Ken | Brooo only 16 hours lef man lets fu*king gooooo | 2020-01-19 14:41:43 |
| Friend | FriendDate | UnfriendDate |
|---|---|---|
 76561198066169128 | 2024-01-13 16:45:36 (190 days) | N/A |
 Dylan | 2023-07-23 14:09:33 (364 days) | N/A |
 Karabaş | 2022-03-08 08:35:55 (866 days) | N/A |
| 76561198894209501 | 2022-02-07 05:19:25 (895 days) | N/A |
 Timteo | 2021-12-03 17:20:34 (961 days) | N/A |
 Dr. Ray Cism | 2021-12-03 11:44:44 (961 days) | N/A |
 Baconpower | 2021-04-17 21:12:28 (1191 days) | N/A |
 txty | 2021-03-16 15:55:36 (1223 days) | N/A |
 DemSimex | 2020-01-22 03:34:03 (1642 days) | N/A |