DELETEPLEASE.

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

l e t ' sxxd a n c exxaxxp a sxxd exxd e u x
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
i nxxt h exxt e a r sxxo fxxt h exxs k y

YOU CAN FIND MORE RP EXAMPLES AT. . .

here

here

and here

THIS IS TESTING OUT MY POSTING FORMATS. DO NOT POST, DAMNIT!

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

_____________⊰ sugarBEAM ★✩★ ⌠ c a f e konpeito ⌡


___________________________________何処まで行けるんだろうってこの身体が知りたくて
___________________________________遥か遠くまだ見えない明日に向かって
___________________________________失うこと恐れたらダイジナモノ守れない
___________________________________たとえ一人世界中を敵にしたって
___________________________________何が真実かを知りたかった
___________________________________いつも一人闇と戦ってた

let's dance a pas de deux
in the tears of the sky
who would've thought
that the thunder is our
beat and the flashes are
our lighting

the flowers are bending
over to cheer us on, the
blades of green dance
to the rhythm and the
trees shake off the
excitement by giving
dry to the audience

the road is our stage

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

_____________✂ anything BUT★✩★ ⌠a lullaby ⌡
___________________________________an E R R O R too graphic production


___________________________________I turn off the time to wake up before the alarm clock resounds

___________________________________I don’t know why but I can already remember you

___________________________________I wonder if, before I know it, I’ll forget

___________________________________Even the miracle of being able to meet you for one hundred minutes

___________________________________Will I end up forgetting even that I’ve forgotten?


Heavenly days in the room in the pocket of my heart
I look for your vanished warmth
Even if there's no way, to feel you ever again
Ah
I'm locking up those days that are still a bit warm

___________________________________▄▄▄I N G R E D I E N T S
___________________________________▄▄▄B R O A D C A S T S
___________________________________▄▄▄S U M M A R Y
___________________________________▄▄▄L A W S
___________________________________▄▄▄M A L E S
___________________________________▄▄▄F E M A L E S
___________________________________▄▄▄E X T R A S
___________________________________▄▄▄R E L A T I O N S
___________________________________▄▄▄S T A T U S
___________________________________▄▄▄C O D E
___________________________________▄▄▄R E S E R V E D
___________________________________▄▄▄R E S E R V E D
___________________________________▄▄▄R E S E R V E D
___________________________________▄▄▄R E S E R V E D
___________________________________▄▄▄O P E N I N G

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

_____________☂ happy BENTO••• ❝ box ❞

___________________________________I can't say it well, but they overflow
___________________________________This voice and these tears, when I think of you
___________________________________Time passes as I still can't transmit it
___________________________________I wish you'd listen without laughing
___________________________________I love you


___________________________________うまく言えないけど溢れてくる
___________________________________この声もこの泪も　君を想えば
___________________________________時は流れ　まだ伝えられずに
___________________________________笑わないで聞いて欲しい
___________________________________僕は君を愛している

_______ __ _______ ______ _____ _____ __ __ _____ ________ ______

Miyamoto High is located in Tokyo, Japan. With all the other schools around, it's just another mass of students, all contained in buildings, learning the education they need very soon in life. Teachers are your every-day ones, some strict, some nice, some in between. They lecture, give the students assignments, give them quizzes about things they've just learned. In the five minute break between each class, students talk to each other, prepare for the next subject, finish up extra homework, maybe go to another class in record-breaking time to go talk to someone else. When the next teacher comes, it's the same. A friendly smile to another classmate, a note asking for immediate help. Maybe a couple of complaints from other students, but, yes. It's the same as every other school in Tokyo.

But, like every other school, there is drama.

During breaks and lunch periods, students break off into their own groups. Everyone's known to be in a group, and no one else shows this better than 3B. While most like to socialize with everyone else, the classroom is divided into four groups of five. They are all under a large umbrella, and under that umbrella is another umbrella. It's more like a bento box. You have the box, then you have different compartments.

The biggest compartment is the rice. They tower and rule over the class in their unspoken glory, maybe even the school. They don't 'chat' to other people outside their group. If they do, there's probably a reason behind it that spells out disaster. They're rich, some with too much money to even know what to do with it. With all that fortune, surely, they have something else that people need to loathe them for. And, if you guessed breathtaking beauty, give yourself a pat on the back. Some have gone through surgery to look like how they are today, some are planning to, and some are just born like that. Beauty and wealth. But that's where most of the similarities end. They have different backgrounds, tastes, dislikes, knowledge. But the only reason why they're all together is because one look at them tells you that they're going to be the ones that ruin your day if you get on their bad side, the ones that have the looks to be known as what they are -- Popular.

The next compartment is probably the fish and meat. They gamble, steal, fight, lie, cheat. They threaten others, bully someone into doing something for them. Although dirty, some of them can fight fairly, though that might not happen a lot. Some are easily angered, some boil slowly then explode right when people least expect it. Second to the populars, they also rule the classroom in some way. By even glancing at someone, they could be so scared as to wet themselves. So far, no one knows who's in a Yakuza or not. They all keep it a secret, because one of them or more could be enemies with each other. Even if they all call themselves friends, they rarely hang out with each other out of school except for the days where they go against another class or rival school. Police have failed to catch them, and when they do, it's not for fighting. But being in a gang doesn't always mean that you're big and bad. Some of them aren't all so good in fighting, some are pretty nice once people get to now him or her. But one thing everyone is sure of is that they are in a gang.

Eggs and vegetables are there, sometimes mixed with other food, or sometimes in a smaller compartment. They enjoy to show off their true colours, whether they dance, sing, write, act, or compose music. Most of them are in the same clubs, some of them like to work together to create something magnificent ( "Okay! You write the play, we'll act, you play music, and you sing. . ." ) for the school, or just something to do at the mall or in public when boredom hits them. Personalities clash, feelings implode and explode. They're all artsy and creative. But that doesn't mean that all of them are hippity-hoppity happy. Some people swear to themselves that the poet isn't all that happy with his life. But, it doesn't matter, because the only thing that brings the ten together is because they all do some form of entertainment.

They aren't part of the bento box, but it's always used -- chopsticks. They all come from different families. They are just like any other person, despite what they've been labeled. They enjoy each others company, enjoy what they do, don't ever have a status-quo to follow or a list of rules (beside the school ones) to obey. They're all friends, even outside of school. But sometimes, they get into fights like any other person does and avoid each other at all costs. School is the only thing that connects the ten. And like what chopsticks are used for, they grab at the foods inside the box. Maybe they talk to themselves, a peer. But most of the time, they say it at room-level voices where most people can hear. Insults about other groups. Not all the time, but they just think it's incredulous and stupid to just label yourselves. They might contradict themselves, but these people believe they are independent. But people don't talk to them, ever -- hence why they're called unpopular.

That's the gist.

The last thing is the unspoken rule that applies for everyone in the bento box, even the chopsticks.

You don't mingle with another group, like the way you don't ever take someone's food.

Ever.

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx✂ ─ ─ ─ ─ TREYwakefield


___________________________________i'm curious of where you're running to with that body
___________________________________facing off to the far off unseen tomorrow
___________________________________afraid of losing the most important thing, have to protect it
___________________________________even if i'm the only one in this world facing the enemy
___________________________________what do you believe in, i want to know
___________________________________always, fighting by yourself in the darkness

Trey swore to God that he still had goosebumps stained all over his skin. A glance at his arm reassured him that he didn't, that his skin was its regular texture. He wrapped the towel around his waist and then padded back to his room, his hair and body still dripping out remnants of water, going all over the wooden floor. He didn't care that someone would slip later on, just as long as he got back to his room and continue getting ready for school. When his feet sunk into the snug white rug, he closed the door behind him and dragged a rather heavy box to barricade his room just in case his sister decided to wake him up and remind him that he needed to go to school. The last thing he wanted her to see was his dignity not covered up. The towel loosened from his hips and was about to fall before he was even done dragging his chair. He hitched it up again. When the box of crap was in its spot, he finally shrugged the towels off, threw it across the room and let it hit the wall before sliding on his bed, and then roamed his room for the clothes he had set out clumsily the night before.

The graphic red and black shirt was wrinkled beyond belief when he dragged it out from under his pillow. And so, he tossed that to the black netted hamper of who-knows-how-old dirty clothes and rummaged around his drawers next to his bed for a clean shirt. A shirt that didn't have creases flowing over it like skin on an elderly person. Finally, finally, he had managed to find a shirt worthy of wearing. He didn't mind that it was a plain (clean) white shirt opposed to the usual shirts he wore with a picture, design, or cocky/arrogant sentence or something of the sort. Nonchalantly, he slipped on a pair of boxers, followed by the usual jeans -- dark denim. His socks were nowhere to be found. After countless failures, he finally found a pair of socks shoved all the way in his shirt drawer. Confused, he sniffed it. Apparently clean, he slipped both socks on. Didn't feel funny, so it had to be fresh. Almost finished, he grabbed his infamous black jacket that he had personally altered to have a red and purple inside whenever he'd roll it up to his elbows. He was now on his way, trooping over to the door. The box was still there, he was supposed to move it, but Trey didn't take notice of it until after he stubbed his toe. A heavy stream of curses and profanities poured out of his mouth like a river on a stormy day. Furious, he shoved the box away and opened the door.

Karma decided to poke fun at him because the next thing he knew, he was stepping on the droplets of water that he had created earlier. Beads of water seeped through the threads of his socks. Even more angry, he attempted to rub his socks on the wood so it'd come off. Bad idea, because apparently the mess of water was rather large and made it worse. He gave up. Trey started to walk and nearly slipped. His anger level was going higher and higher. He gripped the wooden railing hard, let go, and then leaped down four steps, turned, then ran the remainder of the stairs' length with an I'm-super-annoyed speed. Sharp turn, walk walk walk walk, another turn. Pause. This was his limit.

" ********! That was mine! " What had he been pointing at? Well, his sister. The twenty-one year old female was happily munching on the last Ham && Cheese Hot Pocket he had hid in the freezer. It was in the waffle box, shoved in the back of the freezer and blatantly placed behind all of this frozen stuff. And somehow, his sister had found it! But if he was being logical, she was either a) watching him while he discretely tried to hide it in the middle of the night or b) she wanted waffles. It could be both. No! Now wasn't the time to be thinking about how. It was to get angry because his sister had eaten his breakfast! He glared at her, his eyes cold and hard, but all his sister did was fiddle with her curls, finish chewing the remains of the Hot Pocket, licked her fingers, and then smiled cheekily at her younger brother. " Damn, that was really good. I was gonna opt for some waffles, but who would've thought that a Hot Pocket would be smuggled in there? I mean, if you wanted me not to eat it, you could've at least hid it behind the waffles, not in the front of the bag. "

For what seemed like an eternity, the only thing Trey could do was stare at her sister. Even after she had smirked, pushed the chair backwards and got out of her seat, walking straight past him, he was still looking at the spot at where she had once been. How could he have been so stupid? Surely, he could've thought of that. So, in a daze, he slipped on his brown combat boots and tied it tight, put the jacket on and rolled the sleeves up to his elbow to expose red and purple, then went to the living room to grab his black messenger bag. He snapped out of the dream-like state and slung the strap over his head and rested it on his shoulder, letting the bag part rest between his left leg and his hand. His stomach bitched and groaned at him one more time to remind him that he had not eaten anything, nor had he had any fluids (other than his saliva) go down his throat and satisfy his moaning tummy. Trey ignored it, swung open the wooden door followed by the screen door. He didn't bother to close it, just left it open for his sister for 'payback' and that she'd leave to go to work soon, anyways.

The walk to the bus stop wasn't that long. He thought it was still early, and decided to check the time when his phone started buzzing irritably in the snug little pocket of his messenger bag. It vibrated once -- a text message. He shoved his hand in and flipped it open at once, not caring about who it was from because it'd be shown when the screen was visible.

dude, you are so late.
mannn, you are so frikkin' screwed.

Trey's eyebrow arched up curiously. He closed the phone, waited a second, and then looked at his phone's clock. 7:30

" ********. " Incidentally, the same time he looked up, he saw his bus rampage right over him and continue on with its schedule, leaving him to stare at the sign with utter disbelief. The bus rumbled over the bumpy road, smoke emerging out of the Earth-unfriendly vehicle. He could only stare at it, even until it was just a little blue dot lost in a sea of other cars. Though, he could always outrun it.

So, that's how he found himself soon running as quick as he could to catch up to the next bus stop, but by the time he arrived there, the bus was long gone. All hopes lost, he walked alongside the cracked sidewalk and involuntarily stepped around large crevices, dog waste, litter, and gum that's probably been chewed by someone who doesn't brush their teeth and resorts to the rubber-tasting material. His phone buzzed again so he checked it.

are you skipping school??????

Agitated, he began power-walking, boots slapping against the sidewalk. His messenger bag slapped uncomfortably against the side of his thigh. Trey was going to make it to school. But it didn't always mean that he'd be there early.

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

xxs c e n e ✰ DANGER!xxxxxxxxxx
xxxxx
IT WAS THE BAD BOY AND THE NEW GIRL.

☆☆lolwhut.

☆☆hurhur.

☆☆derp.

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

_____________✂ ─ ─ ─ ─ ƒυɈιмστσsατσяυ ✘藤本智✘ ⌠ⓞTAKUⓓELINQUENT⌡


___________________________________目覚ましが鳴る前に起きて 時を止める
___________________________________思い出せるのはもうなんとなくだけど君の事
___________________________________一億分の君に会えた奇跡なんかも
___________________________________いつの間にか忘れちゃうかな
___________________________________忘れた事さえもきっと忘れてしまうの？
___________________________________ＨＥＡＶＥＮＬＹＤＡＹＳ

Finally.

Fujimoto Satoru wiped a bead of sweat that trickled down the side of his face, and then wiped it on his gakuran. A chorus of sighs and cheers, followed by the soft or loud conversations followed soon after. The sounds of indoor shoes clacking on the tiled floor filled the air as the students stampeded out of the school. The teenager let his mouth turn up slightly into a smile. The whole time, he had a faint smile -- while he put away the broom, while he gathered his supplies, while he changed back to his regular shoes, while he walked back home. It was on there the whole time. Ever since the start of his second year of high school, there's been a lot more to look foward to. There was the new releases of anime and manga, then there was the cafe.

Students and little kids brushed past him, but he paid no attention, just let them slide as he sauntered slowly to his house. The smile was quickly wiped off and turned into an irritated frown the moment his phone went beserk with vibrating and the midi theme to Hare Hare Yukai came on. Staring and laughter ensued, but soon, the noise stopped. His right eyebrow pulled up into a confused gesture, until a jingle came up, with a softer vibration.

Irritated beyond words, he shoved his hand inside his suitcase, rummaging through the mess. He hadn't even noticed that he took a complete stop right at a traffic light. Lucky him, huh? And when his fingers wrapped around the cold device, he flipped it open only to find a text from one of his only friends.

TEGAMI BACHI -- NEW VOLUME CAME OUT!
ARE YOU GOING TO BUY IT?
I AM.
( 　ﾟ,_ゝﾟ)


Satoru grumbled, shoving his cellular phone back into his suitcase. For the umpteenth time, his friend had texted him. And, the worst part was that it was about an awesome manga. And he was going to lose, getting the manga second! That was not something he'd get angry about, but it was manga for crying out loud! If he got it after, his friend could have read it and spoiled the next chapters for him, and then his life would go to waste. His thoughts were cut off the moment his phone vibrated again, lost somewhere between the papers in his suitcase. Snorting, Satoru began to walk back to his house which wasn't that far away -- the perfect spot, smack between Hoshino High School and Cafe Konpeito. Looking back, there were still clusters of students, mainly first years, still walking about. He sighed, but the moment he did, a ripple of shivers went coursing through his body. It was too cold for his liking, he had to get back quickly. Of all the days, he just had to forget his scarf!

The male soon found himself in front of his house. At last, at the comfort of his home, he inhaled a huge chunk of cold, stifling air before letting it out. "Tadaima," The words came out nasally. Satoru let out an incredulous whine, which came out rather. . . Odd. There was no response, so he grunted and stomped off to the kitchen. Good lord, his parents weren't home, again. That meant having to haul his self over to get his own food and medicine. . .

. . . Only to find out that they were expired. As in a year expired.

I guess I'll just stay sick, he thought ruefully as he began to trek up the wooden stairs, socks threatening to make him slip and fall down. Somehow, he managed to finish the last of the steps and let himself enter his room, flopping down on the bed. For some odd reason, he was glad that his parents had opted for a western-styled house. If not, he'd be crashing right into some uncomfortable futon by now.

A brief moment of silence passed by, but was then interrupted by the loud moan of his stomach, complaining that he didn't eat. Oh, the joys. He hiked back down to the kitchen, fixed up cup noodles, and sulked on the living room couch. This definetely wasn't good, but he really couldn't help it.

Just wait until I get to the cafe.

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

_____________☂ ─ ─ ─ ─ kαιℓє ✘gяαcєƒιєℓ∂✘ ⌠ⓓⓐⓝⓖⓔⓡⓢⓑⓐⓢⓢⓘⓢⓣ ⌡



___________________________________you disintegrate my differential
___________________________________you dislocate my focus
___________________________________my heart beats like an exponential
___________________________________whenever you cross my locus
___________________________________without you, sets are null and void --
___________________________________so won't you be my cardioid?

Suddenly, and for the umpteenth time, Kaile really wished she didn't wash her hands as much as she did. Right now, her hands were laughing at her. They were telling her that now her hands felt all sweaty and she was going to epically fail. But she quickly wiped her hands on her dark denim skinny jeans, leaned down to tighten her bright pink Chuck Taylors, and straightened out (or atleast attempted to) any major wrinkles and creases on her TWLOHA shirt, and slipped on the blue floral-patterned strap that lead to her bass guitar. Her right eye was light pink while the other eye was dark blue. She didn't know why she had to make it like that. All Kaile knew was that it looked freakin' awesome in a picture. And maybe it reminded her of bubble gum, which she realized was still in her mouth. She walked to the nearest trash can to spit it out and then returned to the small coffee table she was lingering at.

She sharply took a gulp of oxygen and looked at her band members. They were probably equally nervous as she was, judging from the way they all looked. She couldn't blame them, or herself for that matter, because the other bands were kick-a**.

And so, when their band was announced, Kaile took a quick swig of some of that sugary Vitamin-Water and took a glance at Bou, who had ran on the stage before she could even finish putting her drink down. As the other members were walking out from behind the curtains, she decided that it really wasn't that bad. Honestly, the big battle pretty much was between DANGER! and GRAPHIC • at the scene. She swore, from the corner of her eye, that she saw someone from school. She jerked her head in that direction, she found out that it was just a member of the other band. But he looked really familiar. She shook her head and thought that she was either a) going insane or b) seeing things.

Flinging those thoughts that kept bouncing like a loose cannonball out of her mind, Kaile started walking. The cheering of the crowd outside was getting to her, but then dimmed down. Soon, only the sounds of her high-tops navigating her through the stage and the small squeak when she stopped, somewhere in front of the drum set but not completely. Then, then screaming and cheering of people tumbled in her ears again.

Looking out at the crowd was very nerve-wrecking. She would see some of the same faces in there, and then think of the hard-core fans they had. Then, the simple thought of them seeing her nervous time after time, gig after gig, made her think. If they always saw her the way she was, sweaty-palmed and nervous, they would get used to it. Which really isn't cool when she thought about it, because then they would get the impression that she was a person that still couldn't get used to the concept of being on stage and not be all giddy. Thinking of this wasn't helping her either, so she had to run over those thoughts with something else, something that'd help her focus.

Crushing that damned band for once, yeah, she thought, and let her emotions simmer, cool, and calm down. It soon turned into excitement. Her mother and father would call her competitive, but it was just the way she rolled. Kaile liked to think of it something else, but she really couldn't think of what exactly it was because she was already hovering her eyes around the top of everyone's head. She smiled at the audience, and then waited for all the members to get in position.

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

✂xxⓉⒽⒺⓃxx ☆ xxⒸⒽⒶⓄⓈxxⒺⓃⓈⓊⒺⓈ
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
⊰ i am nobody who are y o u? are you nobody too? ⊱

i want you
i need you
oh baby
oh baby.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
⊰ then there's a p a i r of us -- don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know ! ⊱

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

not really my best.

✂xxм α yxx ☆ xxɈ α и єxxω h ι τ s υ и
you disintegrate my differential
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
⊰ you dislocate my focus. my p u l s e goes up like an exponential whenever you cross my locus ⊱

I'm walking on sunshine , wooah!

Before it had gotten to the second part of the repeated chorus, May-Jane gripped the alarm clock with much force, but ended up unwillingly making the music louder than intended. She let out a deep grumble, ready to hurl the radio alarm clock to the mirror. However, the groggy female mumbled darkly about the song, turning the alarm off and setting it back on her table. If she had really smashed the clean white object to the mirror, or worse yet - the window, it would've been quite disastrous. May had already broken three other ones in anger and frustration, while a different one was lost some where back in their old home. It explained why they had stopped buying her the small portable ones and stuck to the kinds that were plugged in, to prevent any future mishaps.

May could only think ever so much about the aching past a little bit more until a familiar chirp was heard outside of her door. She let out a muffled groan and let herself roll over to face the whitewashed ceilings of their new house. It troubled her to think that this was where they would be living now on, and it hurt her just to think about everyone from before.

Attempting to distract herself, May fished around her unorganized closet to find something decent to wear. She wasn’t really planning to go outside, but to just wander the area in hopes of finding something mildly interesting to help herself concentrate and [ unwillingly ] forget the past.

As if.

A pair of faded vintage jeans and a fitting white polo somehow made its way out of the cluttered pile of clothes, and decided that it was good enough. She peeled off the layers of pajamas – which she had painstakingly had to change into in the middle of the night, it was so cold! – And slipped her lanky body into the fore-mentioned garments. What met her when she looked in the mirror was something that she didn’t like seeing – tousled hair with red eyes. A trio of zits exploded on the side of her face, which left her eyebrows furrowing at her own reflection, the crinkles on her forehead not willing to flatten out even after she had adjusted the strands of black.

There was another noise of morning as she stared out the window – the sun was shining too brightly in her face. May quickly looked back to the door, trying to squint because of the light that had flashed in her eyes. It took her eyes just a few seconds to adjust back to the cornflower room, and she tumbled outside, yawning loudly.

Her nose was soon attacked by the typical smell of breakfast – even until now, it was always the same except for the occasional birthday or “I need to buy groceries!” event. The smells infiltrated her nose, and she breathed it in gratefully. Her feet were nimble as her white flats began to litter across the floor of their new house, weaving through boxes of unpacked objects and ran a hand through her hair before appearing next to Sterling. “Hello, loves. How can you wake up ever so early?”

May smiled, and then twirled around over to the kitchen. She had not waited for an answer, but scampered along and helped herself to the usual serving of sausage, eggs, and potatoes. The aura everyone emitted was quite the same in everyone, though Jason was releasing off the usual dark vibes. She poked a sausage, and then plopped it happily into her mouth, chewing slowly as she waited for everyone else to wake up – that is, the two youngest.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
⊰ without y o u, sets are null and void -- so won't you be my cardioid ? ⊱

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

________✩TACHIBANA ryousuke

ryo-tan

╔══════

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

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words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

══════╝

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

_______✂ - - - ALEX! fleur ↖

______________________ A photograph is something to

________________________ Adorn a desk or wall

_________________ Or carry in a pocket and

___________________________ Display to one and all

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

[HAPPYcrayonbox]

♔σяє ☆ sαмα

俺様

❝NAME
ORE-SAMA. BUT YOU MUST KNOW MY NAME! KEIGO, ATOBE.

❝STATUS
ORE-SAMA IS ONLINE.

❝MOOD
ANNOYED

❝CURRENTLY
RESTING ORE-SAMA'S TIRED BODY

❝OCCUPATION
MODEL

☆╔════════════════════════════

Ore-sama has finally logged on!

What a blasphemy, to not figure out this place until now. I am ashamed of myself, and of Kabaji, too. Ore-sama is also tired from his photo shoot! But, enough about me.

Who is on right now?

════════════════════════════╝☆

______________________________