THE WRITER MUST EAT -> patreon.com/trn1ty <- | \ | | blah! |\ | `\|\ | the rantings and ravings |/ |(_|| | * of a depraved lunatic <^> 2023-01-31 #!/bin/sh set -e # UNIX manual system str isvalue "$MANUAL_DIR" \ || MANUAL_DIR=/usr/manual argv0="$0" ! str isvalue "$1" || str isvalue "$3" \ && printf "Usage: %s [name] (section)\n" "$argv0" 1>&2 \ && exit 1 \ || true str isvalue "$2" && ! test -e "$MANUAL_DIR/$2/$1" \ && printf "%s: %s: No manual entry in section %s\n" "$0" "$1" "$2" \ 1>&2 \ && exit 1 \ || true str isvalue "$2" \ && PAGE="$MANUAL_DIR/$2/$1" \ || for d in "$MANUAL_DIR"/* do test -e "$d/$1" && PAGE="$d/$1" done ! str isvalue "$PAGE" \ && printf "%s: %s: No manual entry\n" "$0" "$1" 1>&2 \ && exit 1 \ || true ! str isvalue "$SECTION_DIR" \ && printf "%s: %s: No manual entry\n" "$argv0" "$1" 1>&2 \ && exit 1 \ || true <"$PAGE" groff -t -e -mandoc -Tascii trick or treat girl's gotta eat i'll bark for u just please pay me just grab me by the bezel and make me wish i was more than a screen. please? Blaa ================================================================ | _╥µµ¢╥╥╥╥╥_ | | ___¿ß@Ñ@▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓_ | | ╥@▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▓ | | ]▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒µ | | ___ ]▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓ | | _╓▄@▓▓▓▓▓▒▓▓▒%µ_ ╫▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓µ | | ╓@▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒N_ ╥¼N▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓ | | ▄▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ßµ ╨╨ ]▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒µ | | ▓▓▓▓▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒Ñ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ *▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓ | | j▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒µ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒Ü | | ╫▓▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒µ_1▒▒▒@▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ß | | ▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒Ñ | | j▓▒▒▒▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒, | | ▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▀" | | "▓╨Ñ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓ | | "▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒╨ ]▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▌ | | `*╨╨╨╨* ]▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓ | | ▐▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▌ | | `▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓" | | `*╨▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▀ | | `▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓∩ | | __▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ | | ╨ÑÑ─ "ÑÑÑÑ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀" | | | ---------------------------------------------------------------- | ALTERNATIVE NAMES: bla, blah | ================================================================ Trin (laughing): That's not even the grossest thing I've seen here. [...]: No? Trin: No. [...]: I believe that. And that's fucked. (starts laughing) Trin (still laughing): I feel like I'm going insane. [...]: You do? Trin: Not really. I already went insane a while ago. [...]: It's the new normal. Trin: Yeah. We're all insane around here. It's still Tuesday? I had a dream: I was in a private art gallery admiring the paintings. Then it turned out there was a warrant out for my arrest. They'd found something extreme enough to warrant throwing a smoke bomb through the window in front of me. I noticed it wasn't really clouding anything so knowing it was probably some nerve agent I ran to the door and gated over to a fractal of the world in which I'd been. Some SWAT agent or something saw me open the door to While that transpired I forked and gated over to the MoMA or whatever in Manhattan. Some cars with black tinted windows rolled up from both ends of the road so I sprinted across the street into ongoing construction where I was shot and killed. Worth a try. a place to which that doorway didn't usually go and sprinted through along with me. I ran through the gallery, which was this rich guy's beautiful townhouse, and made it upstairs where I got onto the roof. The SWAT didn't know I was there so I jumped down and made it into a nearby forest. One for two. [2:59 PM] Strong Eminav_B (weak): I was expecting you to look older and a less round face [3:09 PM] Strong Eminav_B (weak): The way you describe ur life makes me picture you like that before and after image of that ww1 soldier What are you wearing? I dunno baby, whatever you want... Carhart pants. Loose fit jeans but I'm considering tighter fit because it'd make them easier to pack. Black. Carhart shirt. Loose fit. I take a razor and cut the Carhart logo off and it's just a 100% cotton shirt with a pocket that I know will last me a while. Black. Amazon "athletic sleeves". Tight. Black. Some eco whatever hat. Keeps headlights, rain, and hair out of my eyes. Black. Carhart gloves. Spandex. Well fitting. Black. New Balance 686 boots. Everything-proof. Pink shoelaces under all the grime. Black. Casio F-91W. Black. On occasion, a bandanna tied around my neck or hair. Black. Dickies socks. Black. Intimates. Take me out to dinner first. Even then you'll probably never see them. A Hello Kitty scrunchie. Silk, maybe? Satin? Shiny. Kawaii. Not black. Glasses. Rose colored. [3:32 PM] trn1ty: yeah it sorta be like that [3:32 PM] trn1ty: blackpink [3:32 PM] trn1ty: cutepunk trn1ty started a thread: trinity fits thread. See all threads. Yesterday at 9:24 PM [9:18 PM] trinity: they're gonna study my work after i'm gone but idk in cs or in psychology [9:19 PM] sasha: in cryptozoology treat me like your computer i wanna do all your math take me apart for techno school show all the pieces to your class grab me by the bezel make me glitch the fuck out tie me up in wires call me a bitch and make out treat me like your computer like i'm a video game play me with your friends from school but don't tell me their names unplug me from the ether so i can't surf any sites take your hard drive out from me leave me on a shelf and go outside Rothco M-65 mansfield jacket. Sturdy. Black. Aside from my weird thing recently it's been months since I've felt much emotion. My emotions and I are apart, for the better I think. They didn't do a lot of good for me and I didn't do a lot of good for them. Good riddance. Most of the people I know don't feel emotion. The rest of the people I know with which I've brought this up think this is horrifying. I don't think so. The people I know with emotion left are either priviledged or at one point had it in a way that is to me unimaginable. The rest of us had to grow up. I remember being scared the first time I saw Night of the Living Dead. I haven't felt fear in years. High school, the earlier years probably. Maybe my caf OD did something. Maybe there's only so much fear you can, and I did. Maybe... There is no pausing, there is no remembering, there is no recoiling. When things go bump in the night you get a rifle, when people die you walk past them, when everybody is dead you step over the bodies and on them if necessary. And I'm tired but not tired enough. _ _ []-[]-' :(){:|:;};: ... ---| --|- --|| -|-- -|-| -||- -|-| -||| |--- |--| |-|- |-|| ||-- ||-| |||- |||| <^> No rights reserved, all rights exercised, rights turned to lefts, left in this corner of the web.