weirdo writes things

Synesthesia Inc. and Sun Inc.’s Co-Department Your low-friction colors, They are not the kind you want? You want no-friction colors, yes? You want flying, frictionless colors? I’m sorry ma’am, we can’t give those for free. High-friction colors are low cost, would you want those? The price is abundant betrayal and wrongdoings! Oh, you’re not a high-friction kinda gal? I’m sorry to hear, that middle-zone must feel like a held-breath. I’m sorry, I know it is hard to deal with a faulty product. We can’t get you a fresh frictionless set as a trade-in, no. What is the price of frictionless colors? Well the first set is free, if you can remember. This is your second set? Ah so you know how it works! Yes, upgrades from friction sets depend on the colors and levels Oh, you’re really low? I’m sorry ma’am, you have to pay the price. Oh right, the price to upgrade is Fix or Refresh. Yes this can happen naturally, but it is riskier. Ah, okay. Good luck! We hope to see you again soon.

Winterfell Winter fell upon Winterfell; Nobody was surprised, but all were disappointed. It gets sooner and sooner each year. The cold burns our hearts away, Leads our freedom of clothing astray. All we have now is coats without snow; Let winter fall away. If only winter would fall in flakes, Then maybe I’d give it gold; With our hills and fields and room for snow, If only… if only. “I won’t believe it!” half of them say. I don’t think their eyes will tell anyway, what’s right before them, it’s so glass-clear; Let winter fall away. Like a reverse strainer, We toss out the good; But us citizens of Winterfell… Well we only get what’s left. Fresh air cut off by frozen-gloom, Let winter fall away.  

The Box of Forgotten Things The Box of Forgotten Things is not real. Neither are the things you left in it; They were memories. They were real, And because of you They aren’t possible. Only Now is real. Then is a possible Now, but only if you leave your Box discarded. Don’t forget. You are the only one to witness Every word you have ever said, but how many can you truly recount? Don’t forget. You witness death at every moment, yet You never realize. You left them all in the Box of Forgotten Things. Leave your Box discarded. Warp your Box of Forgotten Things into an Archive of Many Nows. Preserve your Thens. But… what happens to those dead memories, anyway? What are you? A collection of them? Don’t forget.

When Alex bought their metrocard from the machine, they accepted whatever comes next might change their life. That’s why they came here, after all. The Train of Odd Places was known for being unknown. In all of the newspapers Alex read, they learned that the Train never stays in one city for long, and strange things happen to the few who enter. When it appeared in Alex’s small, uneventful town of 80,000, they took their chance to rid themselves of the dirt of their school “friends”. Nobody else was at the entrance to the station with them. It was quiet. Each step they took deeper into the underground echoed like rumors, somehow getting even louder with every passing second. Alex arrived at the gate and swiped their card. Suddenly, but quietly, all of the shadows around them turned deep red. Like all other colors were just… turned off. Grinning with both excitement and confidence, Alex marched on; sending the supernatural change to the millions of blank filing cabinets in the back o...