Reality is a realm [manifested] by possibilities and facts.
It is composed of countless objects and life forms [manifested] by Truth, Its universal colony ruled by logical reasoning and rational thinking.
The average occupant of Reality will blindly follow the statement: "This is true, so therefore it is valid. This is false, so therefore, it is invalid.". As simple as that.
Reality does not give abode to fictitous things or one's imaginations, for it is meant not for that intended purpose.
The most important component of Reality, Truth, can also be said to mimic a prison that holds all of these together. If a form of [manifestation] does not belong to this compound, then it is [manifested] by False.
[Manifest] is the term for the evidence of creation. It is the pinnacle of foundation for everything that has and ever existed. Without this paricular essence, nothing would ever be made and validated, thus, all of would simply be erased and marked as 'non-existent', for there is nothing to prove that they were ever [manifested].
[Manifest] does not just simply apply to Reality, it can also be utilized for Fantasy.
Fantasy is a realm [manifested] by impossibilities and fiction.
Reality itself is limited, and only observes what is [manifested] by Truth, and ignores everything else that is [manifested] by False. If Truth houses all [manifestations] within the realm of Reality, then False tolls for the [manifestations] within the realm of Fantasy.
And unlike Reality, Fantasy does not limit itself, an infinite array of any sort of creation, is welcomed by it. Rules here are considered superficial, but they can be made beforehand, since only a creation within Reality is actually capable of doing so. There are no restrictions to enter Fantasy, but only those that are part of Reality cannot cross over.
Because both are exact opposites, the two cannot meet, and therefore cannot interfere against each other's work. However, they are capable of doing so indirectly.
Even within Reality, its occupants are capable of using their potent minds to [manifest] lies. Once [manifested], they are automatically assigned to False's gate, after passing through Truth's cells.
This is how Fantasy continues to 'exist', even if there is no existing method to validate physical evidence for its [manifestation], Reality makes it so that there would have been verifiable records and written files that stored small ounces of its proof of [manifestation], to be transferred over the boundaries of Truth, in order to be [manifested] by False itself.
That was how the system has always worked, and Reality was aware it, for it has existed longer than Fantasy.
However, it did not expect a malfunction to ever occur. All because of one, single event.
A working cog was missing, dissapeared without a trace. It was almost instant, it concluded, and it had confused its rational mind.
Because the strange phenomenon itself, was impossible, and therefore was ruled out beyond Reality's own capabilities.
The kidnapped victim, a young man, was dragged, forced out of Truth's prison, and had been reconstructed to [manifest] over False's dominion, possibly even into the realm of Fantasy.
Reality is a powerful entity, but its vast and tremendous capacity is restricted to everything but its own realm, it could not do anything but be a witness to its own incompetency. Its 'eyes' cannot reach farther than what is beyond False, for its purpose is only intended for what it is best for, and that is to supervise and cooperate with Truth.
It was even baffled by how it had happened, the kidnapper itself, with no known identity, was made of a strange molecular structure of unknown material that no amount of science -discovered or not- can ever explain. It. Was. Impossible.
Not only that, but the consequences of such actions were nigh unexplainable as well.
There was absolutely no found evidence of him actually existing, it was as if he was never actually part of Reality's fabricated mechanism at all.
All of the victim's memories, moments, cirumstances and actions, had all been lost, maybe permanently so. Not even his beloved friends, relatives, or even his acquaintaince whom had given him a home to live in, had ever noticed at all. They, along with the rest of Reality's residence, continued to move, continued to flow amongst the rivers of time, without no signs of ever being interrupted.
Reality can only hope that the person's fate is to be remained safe and unharmed.
It was funny though, Reality thought, for it's 'belief' was that everything must stay in place, and do what it is meant to do. There would be no fake motivation, nor wasted thinking. If there was another possible conclusion that would reap better benefits, then that would be immediately preferred over any other answer. Now, it was using the term 'hope', something that didn't sit right with it.
And yet, that was the only thing Reality was truly capable of doing, that was the 'conclusion' it had reached.
Reality sighed, 'hopefully' nothing else will hap-
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Again, Reality sighed. If it had a mouth, it would have let out a big puff of air.
It spoke too soon... this time, a book, apparently one of the young man's belongings, was given the same treatment. Now both of them are stranded in who knows where..
It seems as though nothing can prevent this now. But really, how did it happen? If not even Reality can provide the answer, then it seems there would be no solution for the unsolvable.
Then, only False, maybe even Fantasy, might know..
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(Realm: Unknown)
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A vast multitude of stars, each differing in color, brightness and magnitude, are scattered throughout the dark and empty cosmos. Only the celestial bodies of light provide illumination within pitch-black.
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No outlying border is visibly present, everything seems to stretch beyond measurement.
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No sound is heard, no echoes ring out. The vacuums of space, flowing against invisible currents, are all that can possibly resonate, within the infinite, yet almost empty mass of space..
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Almost...
A floating figure is seen, even in this large empty black canvas, it remains visible even to the naked eye. It seems to be the only one creating movement, as everything else seems to be halted for no reason. It looked alien, when framed against the black void adorned with stars.
It was wrapped in long and thin tendrils as dark as the underlit body that surrounds them.
An eerie and baleful aura covers the enveloped body, but it does not consume, nor spits out any form of hatred against all that is considered holy. It does not seem hostile, and it does not seem harmless either.
An ensemble of distorted voices had rung out. Though however drowned out the sound was, it was there, and it exists.
"??s??? / ¡??s??? / ??s??? / uoos p?s?iu??iuo no? ????? ?i?? ?? '??s???"
The transported figure had soon started to slowly move faster, with each second its velocity was gradually reaching levels of undeterminable volumes.
"¡¡?i?? / ¡?i?? ?i?? / ?i?? ???? ???? ???? / ??s??? / ??s??? ?on ??s i? qn? / ???? ?n??p / ???? ?n??p d?qq??s / ¡iusi?ui?i??u? / iusi?ui?i??u? / iusi?ui?i??u? ??os? ??on??? ????"
The 'carriage' moved faster, faster, faster.....
Until it ceased almost instantaneously.
Before them now was a gigantic, contorted moving portal. It emitted a glow, but it was not bright. It looked as if shadows dare seep through and invade the unnatural silence of the deep void.
It was sinister-looking, a dark radiance leaked from the twisted structure. It resembled the eye of a storm, wishing to suck in everything near its gaping mouth.
"???s??? / ??s??? / ??s??? q?iu?-???? ?on o? u???i??u?? on? ?o? so?i?i? / so?i?i? ?on? ?o? ?s? ?? / ????? / ????? / ????? ??????siu? o? q??-iu??d? ???? qopi?s on? / on? ?o? '?o??p ?on? ndou ???? p??? / p??? / p??? uo? ?on?p ?iup o?u on? ?up / ?on / ?on / ?on s???? ?iu???? - o?i ?o ??s dn?dos? o?u on? / qn? / qn? / iu??nsiou / iu??nsiou / iu??nsiou snpp?u on? ?o??i?? ?on ???? ?od? ?? ????? / ???? / ???? s???? ?? '?o??p u?? ??? iu ???s??? / ??s??? / ??s??? '???? ???s d??? ??"
Soon, the tendrils were slowly retracting itself from the body they had wrapped around, pushing the now free figure gently towards the cavernous maws of the gateway to the unknown.
Each of the black [manifestations] start fading, slowly losing visibility. The group of distorted voices echoed once more.
"???????? - ???? / ???? / ??s??? / ??s??? / ??s???¡"
The body, now all alone, had finally entered the lone, incomprehensible construct.
Nothing else but the portal is left, its previous visitors already gone.
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*Whoosh* *Rustle*
A gentle breeze tickled the nose of a certain man. His freckled face scrunches up, it was not known whether it was due to delight or irritation.
"Hrmn, lok tar ogar.... grr..."
He muttered, groaning softly in his sleep. He rolled over on his side, trying to find comfort within his bed.
Whenever he came home from work, each day he would be tempted to grip the cotton sheets of his bed, the soft and fluffy body of his pillow. He would always try his best to pull away from the strong urges to take a nap. It was when he was finally done finishing up his daily routine, would he gingerly creep up against his wonderful cot.
Yes, he always was a lazy person, but somehow he was a greater masochist, for he would rather drive himself mad typing away while staring at a screen, sweating his brows off inside his very private quarters -a.k.a 'office'-, rather than enjoy peaceful slumbering everyday. But since he had to work, well, he had to work.
However, now that he was finished -at last!-. he could now enjoy his second favorite 'hobby':
Sleep. So without thinking, he decided to nap again, screw you boss, he's gonna have some nice tender moment with his cozy, cozy bed.
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Bed, hmm oh wonderful bed...
bed..
..bed..
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......It.. feels.. weird?
Wait, where was the touch of his cotty-cot sheets? The mushiness of his fluffy sheep?? What happened to the warm feeling of mister bed, who would gladly let him cry and dampen its body up all night when he couldn't score a chick he found on a dating web site, who he later met on public, just so he would get humiliated on???
With his eyes still closed, he let his hands wander, feeling and touching everything nearby.
He scrunched up his face, he was feeling something heavy on his chest. It didn't sit well for him, and he knows why...
'It's rather hard..'
This didn't feel like his bed, he deduced. There wasn't any level of comfort to be felt. It wasn't even warm, it was slightly cold to him. Who dared planted their grubby hands on mister bed!?
He shook his weird thoughs away, no time to be sarcastic nor crazy, this was serious.
'And the surface, it's not fabric I'm feeling either. Its rather.... grassy? earthy?'
He took a slight whiff of his surroundings, trying to make sense of the strange situation at hand.
'...It smells like roses..'
He was familiar with the scent, he occasionally visited the landlord's home, he would see her gardening her flowers from time to time. Her favorites were red-petal roses, so there was a bunch of them growing in her front porch. Whenever she came by, she would also sometimes gift him with a few of them. After that, he had promised her that he would buy vases -since there was no plot of land or dirt in his apartment- so he could take good care of them, assuring her that her beloved flowers wouldn't wilt. There were several pots just lying outside his room, bathing in the sun.
How was the old lady doing now? She was a bit feverish the last time he met her, it was kind of worrying. He hoped she would get better soon...
'I don't like this at all.... nope, I'm too terrified to open my eyes.'
Gone was his slightly sarcastic side, what remains now is a panicked child scared for his life...
'Calm..calm down, j-just calm down, relax, relax a bit.'
And just like that, all three of his five senses activated at once.
He felt the grassy earth beneath him...
He smelled the aroma of roses all around him...
He heard the rustling of leaves, and the wind passing through his ears...
'Come on, you can do this, you can do this.. you can.. do this.'
He took a deep breath, he would have probably sucked on some foreign, infectious dust into his lungs with how much oxygen he inhaled, but he didn't care.
*Inhale*
*Exhale*
*Inhale*
*Exhale*
He took a few more breaths, the last one more deeper than the other. It's making him a little dizzy now, he should stop.
He forced his own body to stand up, trying to steady the wobbling of his knees. His body was shaking, and tension came upon him. His hands, which had dug deeper into what he could blindly verify as soil, helped push him off the bed of earth with his feet allowing him to stand up again. This would be how a baby's first steps would play out... if the toddler was blind.... and not normal.
In all his tiny ounce of glory he stood, not perfectly straight, but was enough to balance his entire physique.
So with all of that gone, he slowly, but surely opened his vision, his fourth sense now functioning.
His eyes met with the intense gaze of sunlight, momentarily blinding for a moment. He tried adjusting to the brightness for a few seconds, that was fine, gives him time to prepare for a minor stroke, yeah....
With that out of the way, with his sights fixed up and ready, he looked at the world in front of him.
And he was welcomed with a sight that was not familiar to him...
His chest, heavy as it was already, became more unbearable for him with its weight. His heart pounded loudly. He didn't have a stroke, but he sure had hoped that he died from one right about now, because this.. was something he hadn't seen for a looong time...
This wasn't his apartment. This wasn't even the city he resided in. This. Was. Not. Home.
It was a forest, lush greenery fills his eyesight. There were plenty of trees, patches of flowers and bushes scattered in the open field.
There were no storm clouds, only clear skies and the heavenly figure of the sun, brilliantly shining down upon him, spreading its warm light across the atmosphere.
It was official, he was getting crazy now...
He couldn't scream, he couldn't gasp, let alone let out a small puff of carbon dioxide. His mind was abuzzed with too many questions, but even then no answers came up.
His first question was, "Where am I?", his second, "How did I here?", his third, "How did this happen?", and so on and so forth. With each soundless conclusion reached, faster and faster his heart raced.
He currently could not hear anything, he could not feel.. all he heard, and felt, was the thumping of his heart, and the beating of his chest.
He was currently panting, hot and heavy was his breath. It looked like he wouldn't recover from such a horrible-
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But he did anyways..
His face, his entire body, had loosened up, even if it was only slightly, it helped him relax and collect his thoughts. Though he wasn't free from hysteria just yet. It was fascinating, how this certain... ability was somehow just 'gifted' to him, but he's not quite sure if it really was a gift or not....
This was a unique trait to him, having a passive mind. It had helped him a lot, and had helped him manage his stress. One second he would be absolutely out of his mind, the next he would just... stop. It's a very unusual method of relieving the mentally harrassed brain, and he was thankful for that. If it had been any other person in his shoes they would have killed themselves already from all the tension and anxiety brought upon by constant working. Now that he thought about it, it felt more like a personality disorder rather than an actual 'benefit' to his already detrimental health.
Must have been the reason why he can't seem to show his emotions more, its gonna drag him down and make him die a single person, all alone in the world....
Dang it, now he's depressed. It looks like he's more focused on his personal issues, rather than the actual problem already slapping the hell out of his face.
'Phew, okay stop that. I need to focus more..'
Now he was simply sitting on the small shrubbery of fairly tall grass, he just noticed that by now. He had also correctly guessed that the flowers around him were indeed roses, though not the pale red from the landlord's own small garden that he was used to, but a mix of scarlet and pink ones.
'Well, that was fun. And I think I overreacted there. Haha yeah I overreacted...'
With his own mind finally calmed down, he now had the ability to analyze and observe his terrible situation. But even though he says that, he doesn't really know what to do. He knows he was taken somewhere, but where actually? In what part of the world was this located at?
'Okay then, I'm in a forest, one of nature's many ecosystems. What a sight for slightly baggy and sore eyes...'
The earth he knows was already deprived of natural resources, too many projects were handed out by the governments' offices due to lack of commodities for their own civillians and manufacturers, that and the increasing problem of overpopulation. Because of that there were very few actual organic places left on the world, and by then it was already housing too many man-made structures. The only reason why those plantations are still standing are all because they were protected and legally branded as government property. If a person so much as picked off a single leaf from either one of those places, said idiot would be shot in the head right off the spot.
It's funny how the cause of destruction is now picking itself off the ground in order to compensate for its own fault. But he was a bit glad, because there wouldn't be any oxygen left floating around the hemisphere for him to suckle upon.
And that was all that mattered to the people, that they would live.
He frowned, that wasn't really his way of thinking, he didn't like that his own kind would have such a narrow way of percieving the entirety of the world itself. There are lots of genuinely caring people out there who are aware of its current state, but nobody cares for them, nooo, the locals would rather applaud and give praise to the person who won an oscar, rather than the person who won a nobel prize for actually contributing something, something that actually benefitted society and the world in a positive way!
That was his opinion, his take on things. He knows its flawed and childish, but he has the rights as a free-spirited individual, to say whatever the hell he wants.
He was getting a bit off track with all his mentally exhausting ranting, where was he again? Oh right, forest.
Once again, he observed the scenery with scrutinizing eyes. There was no way he was kidnapped and sent here, there was no object of worth or any bit of small fortune hanging off of his pockets, he was already well on his tippy toes towards bankruptcy for christ sake!
And, assuming he was kidnapped, wouldn't it have been better to use him for something like ransom money rather than dumping him in some, random wildlife vegetation?
Nothing had made sense to him.. and if that was the case, so be it.
Finding logic even within the most incomprehensive of conditions, is the next best thing... aside from panicking and screaming like a little girl. Yet logic, can only go so far....
So, for whatever reason, he opted to lay down on the ground flat on his back, but not before stretching his limbs as far as his yoga trained body can go. Yes he does not need to, but he rather liked being flexible. He thinks it would have been a waste to not utilize it, because he thinks even having only just one useful ability, is better than having none at all. So he did just that.
And if he wants to think straight, then he just needs to be calm and roll along with.. whatever it is that's happening.
Ahh, he started to realize how long it's been since he'd last experienced one of mother nature's many gifts. He felt comfortable now, not as comfy as mister bed but still a nice feeling..
The fiber of the dew instilled grass and the petals of blossoming flowers...
The feeling of the sun's rays bathing him in warmth...
It made him feel at ease, made him want to doze off for a whil-
*Slap*
A stinging sensation had overrode his almost tranquil state. Both his cheeks, which were mushed together by his hands, were gradually turning pink red.
'Now is not the time Maxi, stop being such a weirdo!'
He got up from his sprawled position, and began dusting off some dirt from his clothes. He inspected his clothing..
At present he wore a long sleeved navy-blue hoodie, his legs were covered in a pair of black pajamas. His footwear, unfortunately, were bunny slippers. Hey, he wasn't gonna object to the comfort that was bought for cheap, his feet feels nice because of this. He gladly upholds his pride as a man, but he would always exempt things that were soft and fluffy..
'Okay, time to head out and go wherever the hell here is....'
There was no other option. It was either wait or not wait, and since he doesn't like doing the former so much, then the latter it is.
He had now set forth, planning to go deeper in the forest groove..
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..What if he got lost? Eh, he'll just have to worry about that later.
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'Okay that's it - I'm pooped.'
Maxi dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, looking completely tired and exhausted.
It was too much to bear for his below average physique, he wasn't meant for stressful physical activity. It's not like he's fat, he does yoga in his spare time! He's as slim as a hot croissant...
And that wasn't just the only problem...
'Just how goddamn big is this place!?'
He mentally screeched in his mind, cursing mother nature for thinking that she was so sweet.
To summarize what happened, he had spent what he thought to be at least thirty minutes hiking in the greenish trail going god knows where, and now he was attempting to retrace his steps...
He was currently lost -which was exactly the thing that he wanted to avoid- simply put, and he has no idea which direction he came from. The entire place was a labyrinth in his anger-filled eyes, and there was no way to tell if he was even going forward or back.
His bottom was planted firmly on the grass filled earth, he was dripping in sweat from head to toe. It was unpleasant for him to feel his clothes stick to his skin like glue. His nose wrinkled in slight disgust by the sour stench that had been leaking out from himself.
Maxi was trapped within the deep emerald clearing that had closed him off from the outside. And though it had presented such a beautiful view to the person who had lived far from nature's fascinating hotspots, he didn't care to look at it. His first priority should be survival, his human instincts tell him so, and he couldn't agree more.
He hadn't eaten yet for a while, but he wasn't starving strangely enough. And that begs to question: how much short of a time had actually passed right before his 'kidnapping'?. It was a scary thought, and he pondered whether or not he would even want to have the answer for that one.
Him being injected with drugs might have been the most logical conclusion, but he wasn't quite sure.
Rest is what he needs first, so he'll think later.
Stamina isn't really his forte. He could run for a good 8 minutes, but by then he'd be holding his lungs out. So picture his moderate surprise when he had been able to walk for half an hour without stopping, you'd think he'd start celebrating when he realized that wasn't such a weak pushover after all.
'Okay, breathe slowly, don't go too deeply.'
During one time back when he attended yoga classes, his instructor had taught him that slow breathing benefits the body more than what regular deep breathing does. She said it helps improve mental focus and increase one's energy to do more extra activities. But he felt as if she lied about that 'having more energy part', that or he really is just a wimp.
It did however help him have more room in his brain to think, so he was more productive in that part. Not only that, it had also helped him remove stress lots of times before, so he kept doing this simple routine a few times per day, making it a part of his daily schedule.
Meditation, this was what he dubbed it as. A simple form of breathing exercise, helps calm the mind and body. Not a major improvement to his, but still, he didn't mind having some spare time to burn just in case.
'Breathe in..... and then exhale'
A small burst of air found its way out of his mouth, free to roam the silent atmosphere.
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*Inhale*
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*Exhale*
He had never felt such pleasantry before, as he never really did have time for some relaxation. Yet being here made him feel a tad bit sad, and made him miss his tiny sanctium.
First of all, he couldn't work on his 'hobby'. Granted it felt like more of a form of self-punishment to himself, but it was weird not being able to do something that was already integrated as part of his life, as in not being possible to actually carry out.
Second, was his book. This was an object that felt like it had as much value as his own mortal life...to an extent.
It was after all, a gift, and he'd be damned to let someone else other than him so much as touch it.
And if some cheeky bastard had stolen it, well, he wouldn't even spare an inch of mercy for them. He'd want them to scream their heart out from intense pain, rip out their uvulas, dry out their sweat glands and burn their-
*Ahem* That's too much, even for him.
He's losing focus again, he's supposed to relieve himself from stress, not accumulate more of it.
'Ugh, just give up me..'
He ceased meditating and decided to lay cross legged with his back resting on the trunk of a rather large tree. Maxi's mind had flooded with too many thoughts for him to ever remain mentally steady.
Closing his eyes, he rested his head upon wooden bark and began to muse.
'You're in some unknown place located somewhere in the world, god knows where. You don't know how it happened, and you don't know how you got here. You're possibly on your own with no one else around you, as you've led yourself astray in a maze full of plant life with almost no minimal chance of ever going back home. What else are you supposed to do?'
He was only an ordinary guy, why did someone like him deserve something so unfair and unnatural such as this? What did he do that made Fate think, "Hm, let us throw this crazed fool in some arbitrary environment and watch as he helplessly squirms alongst the mud, with nothing but his own two hind legs.", and then do exactly just that to him?
It was at this point that he wanted to grab hold of his beloved tome of random junk and scribble more nonsensical stuff in it. He hates it, but it's kind of more like...a hate-love relationship thing going on between him and the book.
Maybe that's why he drew and wrote about all of those things, because he was bored and had nothing left to do. Well, he had to admit that he was creative, weirdly creative he might add. That book contained all sorts of fetishes about his greatest fantasies, and then some time later in the future used that to sprout the idea of turning it into something like a fictional story. He wanted to share to people his form of deep love for his number one genre and hopefully like them as well.
A basic summarization for his reasoning for wanting to make a web novel based on that 'diary' of his.
He could imagine it already, the book itself being neatly placed on his lap, fervently(?) waiting for his affectionate....dexterous hands.
Yep, he could definitely picture that scene play forward, he could already feel the book's weight on his thighs...wow so heavy, and he was crazy enough to fill almost every crevice of its formerly blank pages with pencil lead and ink? So dedicated he was...
He visioned himself and his excited hands just touching that rough and rugged leather that was it's cover.
Forget that it made him go visit an orthopedic clinic a bunch -a whole lot- of times, he needed way more comfort in his life, more comfort than even what mister bed alone could have provided him.
Ah yes, touchy touch touch....rub a rub rub...this leather's softer than his wallet's hehe...
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....why does this particular scene feel so oddly familiar to him? Wasn't this kinda somewhat similar to that one time in the grass?
That one time when he woke up?
'...Do I have to that "slowly open my eyes" bit again?'
He jokingly breathed out, if this was what he thought it was, then he would need some really hard and solid evidence to prove that he wasn't insane at all.
'Ah fuck it, open sesame.'
Just like that, his vision turned back on.
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..Sigh, here we go again...
*Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale* *Inhale* *Exhale*-
*Ding!*
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'Seems to be in alright condition to me.'
He had spent the last -he guessed- three minutes exercising slow breathing, until his mind had automatically reset. Then he was back to his usual, unexpressive self.
His reasons were perfectly valid, so he need not justify himself further.
To clarify; he was currently in possession of the one thing that he had been ruminating about so many times. The single object that he treasured and held dear in his dysfunctional heart.
His beloved book, his oh so precious 'diary'.
But as delighted as he was, this had raised more and more questions, and yet not an answer in sight.
'How', and 'When' did it appear?
It made him more uneasy, but he'll need to verify that sinking feeling of his later.
Right now at this very moment, finding an exit is first on his list...
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