✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩ ♡ "𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑤𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡." ♡. ✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩
𝐹𝑎𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ᥫ᭡.
╔╗╔╗╔╗╔═╦ ♥. .☆.......•*¨`*• ╠╣║║║╦╠═║✫ (¯`'•.¸ //(*_*) ¸.•'´¯) ╝╚╩║╚╝╚═╚═╝❤✫ƸӜƷ *`• .…* * *.•
║║╔═╦╦╦═╗ •.¸¸.•´¯'•.♥꧁⁀✿❤✿⁀꧂•.♥ ║╚╣║║║║╩╣ ♪♫•.¸¸ ╚═╩═╩═╩Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ….☮*´¨♥꧁⁀✿❤✿⁀꧂•.♥
☆¸.✿¸´´¯`•.¸¸.ღ¸ ♥ʚįɞ♥´´¯`•.¸¸.♥. (¯`v´¯) ....♥ Close to my Heart `*.¸.*.♥.✿´´¯`•.¸⁀°♡
❤ ❤ 🅴🆃🅴🆁🅽🅰🅻 🅻🅾🆅🅸🅽🅶 🅼🅴🅼🅾🆁🆈 ❤ ♥ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ α♡ѕнαρє∂♡нσℓє♡ιη♡му♡нєαят ﮩﮩـ٨ﮩﮩـ٨ﮩ♥ (✿◠‿◠)
ꕤ*.ﾟ♡┊𝕀 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕪, 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕪. 𝕊𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪┊ ꕤ*.ﾟ♡
ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ; ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᴾᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ? ᴹᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ? ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧
ღღ 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 ღღ ♥♥ღღღღ♥ ƳƠƲ ԼЄƑƬ ƲS ƁЄƛƲƬƖƑƲԼ MЄMƠƦƖЄS♥ღღღღ♥♥
ℑ𝔣 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶, 𝔴𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤. 𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯, 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰
ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧
Anesthesia/Sedation: The surgeon or anesthesiologist administers general anesthesia, making you “sleep” without recalling the procedure. Your vitals like bľood pressure and heart rate are monitored. You’ll be sleepy. Nitrous Oxide (Laughing Gas): Quick to take effect and wear off, this gas keeps you calm and comfortable but awake and responsive. Many sedatives also induce amnesia, so won’t remember the procedure. You can still respond during the procedure but likely won’t recall it, as you might not remember the visit. General Anesthesia: it puts you to sleep during the procedure. Your vitals are closely watched, and you’ll wake up after without any memory of the work. It renders unconscious with no memory of the procedure. Post-treatment, they may experience altered sensations.
♥𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 ℒ𝓸𝓿𝓮 ♥•*¨*•.¸¸.•*¨*•♥ ❤ 𝓐𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 ❤ 𝐼𝓃 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑀𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎❤ 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖊
๑❤๑♥๑ "In all things of nature, there is something of the marvelous." — Aristotle ๑❤๑♥๑ ꧁꧂
⋱ ⋮ ⋰ ⋯ ◯ ⋯ ⋰ ⋮ ⋱ .✿¸.•*`✿`*•..¸✿¸.•*`✿`*•..¸✿. ♥╬♥═╬╬═♥═╬╬═♥╬♥═╬╬═♥═╬╬═♥╬♥
Repost this If you miss someone right now. July 27, 2015
November 17, 2013 It's hard to forget Someone who gave you So much to remember.
If you love something let it go, If it comes back to you it's yours, If it doesn't, it never was, and it's not meant to be. May 6, 2014
''𝐼𝑓 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝐼'𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛'𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒''.... "𝑀𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙" ❤
"Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream." — Euripides ❤ ♥ ꧁꧂
A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ii (Autistic author) His eye took a moment to focus on her, and when it did, she saw a flicker of confusion, followed by a glimmer of recognition. "Karen?" he repeated, his voice still faint. "Yes, it's me, Plankton. You're ok." But his gaze remained distant, his focus unsteady. "Where...where are we?" "We're at the hospital, sweetheart," Karen said softly, stroking his antenna. "You had an accident." The confusion in Plankton's eye grew, and he tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced him back down. "What kind of accident?" His voice was still weak, but there was an urgency to his words that hadn't been there before. Karen took a deep breath, her grip on his hand tightening. "Mr. Krabs...he hit you with a fry pan." The words tasted bitter but she had to tell him the truth. Plankton's eye widened slightly, and she watched as the puzzle pieces of the situation slowly clicked into place in his mind. "Krabby Patty," he murmured, his voice distant. "Yes, Plankton, you were trying to get the recipe again," Karen whispered, aching at the memory. "But it's over now. You need to rest." His eye searched hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of his old self, the cunning and ambitious man she had married. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a vacant stare. "Don't... don't remember," he mumbled, his antennas drooping. This wasn't the Plankton she knew, the one who schemed with a glint in his eye and a plan in his pocket. "It's ok, Plankton," she soothed, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Do you remember me?" Plankton's gaze remained steady for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. "Karen," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. But the spark of recognition was tinged with confusion, as if he wasn't quite sure how he knew her. Karen's felt like breaking into a million tiny pieces. But she knew she had to stay strong. For Plankton. For them. "You don't remember what happened, do you?" she asked gently. "What else do you remember?" Plankton's antennas twitched slightly, his eye searching hers. "Don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's chest tightened as she held back a sob. "It's ok," she reassured him, her voice shaky. "Do you remember your name?" she asked, her voice hopeful. He blinked slowly, his gaze fading in and out of focus, his brow furrowing as he concentrated. "Sheldon... Plankton?" The sound of his voice saying his own name brought a small smile to Karen's face. "Yes, that's right," she said, her voice filled with relief. "Do you remember where we live?" she continued, her tone gentle. Plankton's eye searched the ceiling of the hospital room, as if the answer was written there. "The Chum Bucket," he murmured, his voice unsure. Karen nodded, encouraged by his response. "Good, good," she said, smiling weakly. "What about our friends?" Again, the confusion clouded his gaze. "Friends?" he repeated, his voice tentative. "SpongeBob, Sandy...?" "Yes," Karen said, her voice soft. "Do you remember them?" Plankton's expression grew more distressed, his antennas drooping. "Square...SpongeBob. And a squirrel, yes?" He paused, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. Karen nodded, brimming with unshed tears. "Yes, SpongeBob SquarePants and Sandy Cheeks. They're friends." Plankton's antennas twitched as he processed the information, his brow furrowing with the effort. "Friends," he repeated, the word sounding foreign. Karen could see the gears turning in his tiny head, his brain desperately trying to make connections to his past. "Do you remember anything about your life before the accident?" Karen asked, her voice trembling with anticipation. Plankton's eye searched hers, uncertain. "Life...before?" Her heart sank. "You know, our adventures, our home, our love?" He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "Love?" The word was barely a whisper. "Yes, Plankton," she said, her voice cracking. "We love each other. We've been married for a long time, and we've had so many adventures together." She paused, willing the words to resonate with him, to ignite a spark of memory. "Do you remember any of that?" Plankton's gaze remained vacant for a moment before he nodded slightly. "Married," he murmured, as if tasting the word for the first time. "To Karen." His antennas lifted slightly, a glimmer of something familiar flickering in his eye. "Karen Plankton computer wife." "Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her voice thick with emotion. "Does that mean something to you?" she asked, her heart in her throat. He nodded slowly, his antennas waving slightly. "Computer wife," he murmured again, his voice gaining a hint of warmth. "Karen." Karen felt a flicker of hope. "Yes, Plankton, I'm your wife." She leaned closer, her voice gentle. "Do you remember anything about us?" Plankton's antennas twitched as he thought. "Wife," he said slowly, his voice a faint echo of the man she knew. "Wife...Karen. Married July 31, 1999." That was their wedding day, a date they had celebrated every year since. "Yes," she whispered, her voice choking. "We got married on July 31, 1999." The hospital room felt thick with silence as she waited for his next words. Plankton's eye searched the room, his antennas twitching as he tried to piece together the shards of his past. "Plankton, can you tell me about yourself?" Karen asked, her voice gentle. "What do you like to do?" Plankton's antennas twitched as he thought. "Invent," he said, his voice still weak but with a hint of pride. "Science?" The words came out as a question, as if he wasn't quite sure of his own identity. "Yes," Karen said, her voice brightening slightly. "You're a genius inventor. You've made so many wonderful things." She paused, hoping to see some spark of recognition in his eye. "Do you remember any of your inventions?" Plankton's antennas waved in the air, as if searching for the memories that remained elusive. "Inventions," he murmured, his single eye searching the ceiling. "Gadgets...machines." "That's right," Karen encouraged, squeezing his hand. "You've created so many amazing machines. Can you describe one of them?" He blinked, his antennas stilling for a moment. "Chum...Chum Dispenser 3000," he said, his voice picking up a bit. "It makes...makes food for fishies." Karen's smile grew despite the pain. The Chum Dispenser 3000 was one of his earlier inventions, a failed attempt to lure customers to their restaurant, but it was a testament to his ingenuity. "That's wonderful, Plankton," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "How about something more recent?" she prompted, eager to see how much of their shared history remained with him. Plankton's antennas twitched as his brain worked overtime. "Um... the Incredibubble," he said, his voice picking up speed as he talked. "It's a bubble that can shrink things down to microscopic size." Karen felt a jolt of excitement. "That's right!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You used it to get to find a secret plan." Plankton's gaze remained distant, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eye. "Computer... plan?" "Yes," Karen said, her voice shaking. "We've had so many adventures together, Plankton. We've faced so much together." He nodded, his antennas twitching slightly. "Together," he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. "Do you remember any of those adventures?" Karen asked, her voice trembling. "Adventures?" Plankton's eye flickered, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. "With Karen... wife?" "Yes, with me. We've traveled the ocean, faced so many challenges together." The doctor came in. "You can go home now," he said. Karen nodded, never leaving Plankton's face. She had spoken to the doctor about his condition, about the autism, but she still wasn't sure how to process it all. How would their life change now? "Come on, Plankton," she said, helping him sit up gently. "Let's get you home." She buckles him into his side of the car, his newfound passivity making the usual struggle unnecessary. The engine of the tiny vehicle roars to life, and Karen guides them out of the hospital parking lot. The ride back to the Chum Bucket is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the car's engine and the occasional splash from the waves outside. Karen keeps glancing at Plankton, his antennas listless as he stares out the window. His mind seems to be somewhere else, lost in a world of his own making. When they arrive, she helps Plankton out of the car and supports him as they make their way to the door. The neon sign flickers in the gloom, casting erratic shadows across the sand. The once bustling environment now feels eerie and desolate. Karen's mind is racing with thoughts of how to make this place feel like home again for Plankton.
ʚ♡ɞ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ༊*·˚
~ ★. ° ¸. * ● ¸ . ° ☾ ° ¸. ● ¸ . ★ ° :. . • ° . * :. . ¸ . ● ¸ ★ ★☾ °★ . . °☆ . ● ¸ . ★ ° . • ○ ° ★ . * . ☾ ° ¸. * ● ¸ ° ☾ °☆ . * ¸. ★
𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚 ♡❁♡
#livecore #dyingcore #heartcore #lovecore #memorycore