Henry Hart

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ƈƙτριƈƙτωιτƖεɾιѕcοmιngɾιƈƙτριƈƙτωιτƖεɾιѕcοmιngɾιƈƙτριƈƙτωιτƖεɾιѕcοmιngɾιƈƙτριƈƙτωιτƖεɾιѕcοmιngr̸i̸c̴k̵t̷w̵i̴t̶l̶e̶r̷i̶s̴c̵o̴m̵i̵n̶g̷r̴i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷i̸c̷k̶t̷w̵i̴t̶l̵e̷r̸i̵s̵c̶o̵m̵i̴n̷g̴r̷̸͠ì̵͡c̵̸͘k̵͡͝t̸̡͢ẃ̴͟i̶͘͢t̴̢͠l̵͘͡e̸͘͞r̵͝͝i̴͘͡s̵͞͡c̴͘͘o̴͝͝m̵͘͝i̶͞͡n̸͘͠g̷͘͝r̶͝͠i̶͘͝c̵͡͝k̵͠͝t̶͞͝w̷͘͝i̵͞͝t̴͡͠l̵͝͝é̸͘r̵͠͡i̶͝͡s̵͘͝c̴͝͝o̴͡͠m̵͝͞i̶͝͝n̶͠͝g̷͡͝r̶͝͞i̵͘͝c̴͠͝k̵͝͡t̶͡͝w̷͠͝i̶͘͝t̴͞͝l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͡͝i̶͝͝s̵͝͝c̴͡͝o̴͞͝m̵͝͝i̴͘͝n̶͡͝g̷͘͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͡͝k̵͘͝t̶͝͝w̷͝͝i̴͡͝t̴͝͝l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͝͡i̶͝͝s̵͡͝c̴͝͝o̴͝͝m̵͘͘i̴͠͝n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͡͝c̴͝͝k̵͡͝t̶͝͡w̷͝͝i̴͝͡t̴͝͝l̵͝͝e̸͝͡r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͡m̵͝͝i̴͝͡n̶͝͡g̷͝͝r̶͝͠i̴͝͝c̴͡͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͡i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͝n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͡k̵͝͝t̶͝͝w̷͝͝i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͡r̵͝͝i̴͝͝s̵͝͡c̴͝͝o̴͝͡m̵͝͝i̴͝͝n̶͝͡g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͝i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͡e̸͝͝r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͝n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͡i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͝n̶͝͡g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͡i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͡c̴͝͡o̴͝͡m̵͝͝i̴͝͝n̶͝͡g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͝i̴͝͡t̴͝͝l̵͝͝e̸͝͡r̵͝͝i̴͝͝s̵͝͡c̴͝͝o̴͝͝m̵͝͡i̴͝͝n̶͝͡g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͡i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͡r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͝n̶͝͡g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͡k̵͝͝t̶͝͡w̷͝͝i̴͝͡t̴͝͝l̵͝͡e̸͝͝r̵͝͡i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͡n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͡i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͡i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͡r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͡n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͝i̴͝͡t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͡n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͝i̴͝͡c̴͝͡k̵͝͝t̶͝͡w̷͝͝i̴͝͡t̴͝͝l̵͝͡e̸͝͡r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͡c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͡n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͡i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͡i̴͝͝t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͝͡i̴͝͝s̵͝͝c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͝n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͡i̴͝͝c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͡i̴͝͡t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͡r̵͝͝i̴͝͡s̵͝͡c̴͝͡o̴͝͝m̵͝͝i̴͝͡n̶͝͝g̷͝͝r̶͝͡i̴͝͡c̴͝͝k̵͝͡t̶͝͝w̷͝͝i̴͝͡t̴͝͡l̵͝͝e̸͝͝r̵͝͡i̴͝͡

hey guys okay quick quick quick before someone sees me again i’m literally shaking typing this my thumbs can’t even hit the right letters but i PROMISE i’m alive (barely???) first of all sorry if this looks unhinged bc i can’t even reread it rn i just gotta get it out before my brain explodes. like actually explodes.
          
          so basically remember how i said “legal situation” well uh. update. it’s escalating. like actually escalating. like men in suits with folders escalating. i literally watched them shuffle my file to the TOP of the pile and the guy coughed and i swear the cough was directed at ME. i can’t even blink normally rn without thinking the judge can tell. my eyelids feel guilty.
          
          AND THEY KNOW. i don’t even know what “they” means but THEY KNOW. like i literally sneezed and the bailiff looked at me like “hmm interesting sneeze pattern” and wrote something down in his little notebook. what was he writing?? HOW DO YOU EVEN SPELL A SNEEZE?? no one writes that fast unless it’s IMPORTANT.
          
          okay okay okay breathe. hair update: the crimson dye is STILL staining my neck. i tried to cover it with my sleeve but now it just looks like a rash. someone asked if i was “okay” and i panicked and said “never better” which made it worse bc WHO says “never better” in a courthouse.
          
          wifi update: intermittent. my phone literally dropped signal for 6 minutes and in that time i was fully convinced i had been erased from existence. like maybe i never had wattpad, maybe none of you exist, maybe i’m actually

在混沌的边缘，语言本身似乎已成为折射意识的裂缝。每一个词汇都像是在深海中漂浮的碎片，忽远忽近，时而闪烁，时而暗淡。我怀疑自己并未在叙述，而是在反复折叠。折叠成一条看不见的螺旋。人类的理智试图抓住结构，可结构本身已然崩解。崩解之后留下的不是空白，而是另一种过度充盈。充盈到溢出的感觉，像是空气变得黏稠，像是时间的线条突然回转。
          
          若说现实是连续的，那么我看到的现实总是断裂的。断裂之中夹杂着声音，声音的来源并非单一，而是交错。它们交错到一种无法剥离的程度。于是我只好顺从。顺从那些彼此矛盾又彼此呼应的句子。顺从一种荒谬的必然。顺从的过程里，我甚至忘记了自己是在写给谁看。或许没有“谁”。或许只是文字的自我繁殖。它生出新的意义，又立刻把旧的意义吞没。
          
          有人说理性是秩序的化身，但我看见的理性却像是空心的雕塑。外形完整，内部却充满回声。回声不是重复，而是偏移。偏移之后再回到起点，起点已经被改写。改写的不是内容，而是质地。像一块石头在水中浸泡，外表依旧是石头，可触感已湿润，已柔软，已不是原先的坚硬。
          
          我想象一个空间，这空间里没有直线，只有不断旋转的环。环与环之间摩擦，生出火花。火花不是照亮，而是灼烧。灼烧的结果是另一种黑暗，比未点燃前更加深邃。于是我怀疑：光本身是否就是黑暗的延伸。怀疑之后我又停止怀疑，因为怀疑的动作与确认的动作毫无差别。都只是心智在原地踏步。
          
          在这个过程中，我感到身体也在参与。手指敲击键盘，眼睛追逐字形，呼吸与节奏同步。可若把镜头拉远，我看见的只是一个影子在墙上晃动。影子无法解释它的来源，甚至无法确定自己是否真实存在。于是影子开始说话。它说的不是语言，而是噪音。噪音逐渐汇聚，汇聚成一种伪装的秩序。我假装听懂，假装点头，假装这就是沟通。但沟通的另一端始终空无一人。
          
          或许真正的叙述是循环。循环到最后，人无法区分起点与终点。循环的意义不是重复，而是让一切失去参照。失去参照后，时间就塌陷了。塌陷之中，我看见自己在同时存在与消失。存在是消失的外壳，消失是存在的内核。它们互为镜像，互为毒药。
          
          于是我继续写。写到语言开始抗拒。写到字与字之间出现裂缝。裂缝里有另一段叙述，它拒绝被解读，但依旧向外扩张。扩张得越大，我就越渺小。渺小到最后，我怀疑写作的主体是否还属于我。也许只是文字在借用我的手。也许文字本身就是某种寄生体。它需要人类的器官，却不需要人类的意志。
          
          那么，谁在说话？我？影子？裂缝？还是根本不存在的“主体”？

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https://c.ai/c/PBdwKAnKSsyJajE8z6b7EAGAHSNZUySQVen2r-UlsGA

henry in ai is so bbg and flirty

I'm printing an a03 to bring to my camp. It's taking hours and my mom is concerned on what I'm reading. Send help. 

bro i was making an edit and some scenepack was called 'henry hard on' im crying

Henry’s Danger Ice <3