Journal Entry #5

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Quick author's note:
I have updated the description to have some frequent TWs :) Suggestions of more I should put are always open as well. So please go check it out if you need too.

⚠️TW: cussing⚠️

Back again and bored as hell. I've tried making more origami bird lore, but I've totally lost all interest in them. I guess you could say I move on fast. But that's not the point, the point is that I can't find anything interesting to do, yet again!

I'm sure as hell not making a song. I don't even know where to start with that. Maybe, when I figure out how. But for now, I'm left dwelling in a painful amount of boredom.

I mean, I know I've said this before but, what is there to do in prison? Let's see, I made bird origami, bird origami lore, renovated the place a little, and made some poems. What's left to do besides the song?

I mean, what else do I know how to do? I could. . . could. . . I could make my very own language!

Hmm, doesn't sound too bad honestly. Pfft- what if I made it just entirely curse words? That would be funny but pretty useless.

I don't think I'll expand outside of writing it though. Sounds and stuff will be too complicated for me, especially when Sam might be listening, and Quackity could show up at anytime.

I could also use it for communicating with Technoblade once he comes— if he comes, that is. I'm sure he will, he's a man of his word afterall. And he owes me a certain favor that I will not let slip by.

No one would know if it was an already existing language or a made up one either. I don't know if that'll come in handy in case it ever gets discovered. I could make certain symbols and stuff to confused others and throw them off track when they're really just worthless.

So overall, it's a pretty good idea. No need for sounds and stuff, so I only have to worry about how the letters look. Maybe I even could make my own number system, you never know. I could get really creative with this, or I could be pretty basic with it. This is a lot more exciting than I expected, but it's defiantly a welcomed surprise.

The boredom ridding process of making a language:

I slowly use my left arm to lift myself from the dull black floor and rise to my feet. I make my way to the golden brown chest in the corner of my own personal box of hell. Opening it, I pull out yet another book from it. It's the same one I stole pages from to make the origami birds, I recognize. It's time to rip three more page from its mother-like grasp once again.

After doing so, I make my way back to my previous spot on the ground. I sit back down slowly, trying not to hurt my legs anymore feeling them already start aching from the injuries collecting upon them.

I take the first page and start writing.

I take the first page and start writing

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