Prodigy's Life in Vague, Enigmatic, Slightly Confusing Terms

This diary does not (entirely) reflect my life, but perhaps my sole purpose of living: to have you leave more confused than you came in. Everything within is the truth, if you can manage to decipher it. Viel gluck, meine landeskunde.


9. Tuesday, May 12th.

My friend told me I'm a mess, and perhaps she is right. Everything that I am is smeared with whites and grays and blacks and, in one odd case, yellow. I'm not concerned, though, for my first trial has been completed. Whether or not it was successful is yet to be determined. Regardless, the inner workings of Apicomplexans are no longer my concern. 


One step closer to freedom.


Stain is not easily removed, and clear is not easily cleared. In my lack of preparation, I had to bargain with a Chelicerata for the proper tools with which to complete my task, and it did not go particularly well. For either of us. Next time, I shall take a leaf from the boy scout handbook.


I meant to write. I mean to write. Instead, alternating refreshes of various websites on which nothing new happens and trying to balance a quarter on its side are proving to be easier occupations of my time. To quote God, "Writing is hard."

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