You're Not Yourself

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<span class="passage">This is <span class="vanishtext">[[not|not a game]] </span>a game. Unless, of course, you<span class="vanishtext"> [[choose to |choosegame]] </span>view it as such. <span class="passage">This is <span class="vanishtext">[[not|not a story]]</span> a story. Unless, of course, you<span class="vanishtext"> [[choose to |choosestory]] </span>view it as such. Regardless of what [[you]] decide, [[I]] applaud your decision to decide at all.</span>

[[There's something about reality that has always bothered you, isn't there?| absurdoutlines]] I mean, you know how there's this saying, that [[life is short]]? I always wondered what that saying was comparing life to. [[Death]]? If so; yes, I suppose life is shorter. Still though, the idea that someone else could possibly know your inner being, complete with your perception of time and space and all that is... That just strikes me as supremely ridiculous.

<h4>There's something about existence that... wait. That sounds... Can I [[try this again]]? </h4> ➡️ When text is going to span multiple lines, use shouldWrap to allow the events to be triggered when the mouse is hovering between the lines of text. <a id="friction">Rub me</a> <<silently>> <<onmouse "move" "#friction" true>> <<append "#friction">> more<</append>> <<andonmouse "leave">> <<replace "#friction">>Rub me again<</replace>> <</onmouse>> <</silently>>

Perhaps a proper introduction is in order. @@color:black;letter-spacing:5px;opacity:0.001%;font-size:0.5em;more is not [[less]] do not add to this@@

Do you believe in the idea that being Nobody has the time necessary to live through all possible experiences. So, many choose to consume second-hand experiences as a sort of workaround. And it definitely works. Reading about someone else can flash you through that experience- albeit in a lightened way- and therefore add to your being, in a sense. All this from being [[another -> Rooftop Blues Alt]]?

Most games have you playing as <span class=shadow>someone else</span>. Assuming a new role, draping its details over your own deafening self for a limited duration in order to bring you a new experience. An experience that you will be able to keep, even after you take off the temporary identity. [[Waking up ->RooftopBluesVersionA]] does not detract from what you've learnt. Something is [[Off ->life is short]]

Sometimes the lesson is that sometimes there's no lesson. But even then, you learn something; that sometimes there's no lesson. <link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Varela' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <div class="waverglitch" data-text="GLITCH">GLITCH</div>

You are awoken by the suffocating olfactory grip of wet cardboard. Then you realize you were not asleep, you haven't slept in too long to not remember it as a vaguely intense and restoring spoke on the rasping wafts next to the air. The window, clattering, softly shrieking, keep you from breathing. What time has it been? Despite this jarring return to your day, you resolve to make this the best day ever. Except... Something is wrong. Autopilot mode is working a little too well today. It almost feels as if... You realize every single person is staring. Is it? What is? What is this?

<span class="waverglitch" data-text="You stir.">You stir.</span> <span class="fadein">Your vague half minute of micro-sleep must have been interrupted by a combination of the sun's sudden presence and that [[ringing]] in your ears. What feels like your first coherent thought in an eternity sheds its <span class="pulse">fuzz... </span></span> @@.fade-in-out-slow; <i>Did [[you|you are not you]] even [[sleep]] at all[[?]]</i> @@

Am [[I]] experiencing you? Are [[you | you to me]] the experience?

Not just the absurdity of its outlines... perhaps something about the elusive nature of its permanence. How it always seems to prowl its own boundaries, leaking the distorted backdrop of day to day.

Nothing good can come of [[this]]. Then again, good is [[subjective]], so... Who am [[I]] to say?

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so subjecetve that you find [[a way]] JK JUST FILLER like JK FILLER ROWLIN

@@.blur; welcome. you seem wise. do not let *it* control you. breathe deeply. calm down. <div class="disappearingtext">soon, you will find [[a way]].</div> @@

@@.shadow;This text should have a shadow@@ @@.emboss;This text should be embossed@@ @@.blur;This text should be blurred@@ @@.blurrier;This text should be blurrier@@ @@.smear;This text should be smeared@@ @@.mirror;This text should be mirrored@@ @@.upside-down;This text should be upside-down@@ @@.fade-in-out;This text should fade in and out@@ @@.rumble;This text should be rumbling@@ @@.shudder;This text should be shuddering@@ .minus:hover { opacity: 0; transition: 1s all ease; }

<span class=rumble>@@.blur; hello again. you are closer. i must apologize for the abrupt reprieve. be well. @@ <<timed 3s>><<goto [[not a game]]>><</timed>> </span>

You groaned, or, more accurately, heard yourself do so. It sounded weak and unconvincing. Unconvincing of what remained a true question. You couldn’t even tell whether what you were experiencing was a memory, or actually happening in the present. There's only one conclusion that makes any sense... @@.smokemonster; [[You don't seem to know much at all.|cuts]]@@

<span class="glowlikeafool">Sleep? No, that can't be right. You have not slept in an eternity. You are not tired, nor are you simply beyond tired. You are what the outline of fatigue's essence is made of. You look at the palms of your hands. They seem more pale than they should. Slightly below your palm are nicks and [[cuts]]. You might want to stop climbing onto the roof. You hope the way [[down]] is less [[lacerative]].</span>

Before you can answer that, a new question blossoms; why did [[you|you are not you]] think [[the roof]] would be a good place to break a strong streak of insomnia?

Something about the stars, probably. No doubt it sounded beautiful, perhaps even genius at the time. But sixty seconds isn't enough, of course, and despite the way it sounds, the phrase "light sleeper" isn't the description of someone who drifts off faster with the young day's bright rays.

<span class=waverglitch>Enough thought.</span> Your body glides its way down the dusty shingles <span id="conv1"><<click "Your body glides its way down the dusty shingles"> <<replace "#conv1">>", stuttering in step to the rhythm of the bumps and thuds beneath it. Your body glides its way down the dusty shingles <span id="conv1"><<click " >">><<replace "#conv1">> stuttering in step to the rhythm of the bumps and thuds beneath <span id="conv2"><<click " >">><<replace "#conv2">>"Yes, but we won't be here long today. This is just to see if there's anything we need to fix or replace before we move in next week." <span id="conv3"><<click " >">><<replace "#conv3">>The boy pelts upstairs immediately. The mother looks at Iris, then smiles. "Check the downstairs with me?" <span id="conv4"><<click " >">><<replace "#conv4">>Iris shrugs. "Sure." The pair walk into the living room together. You [[watch|DFoyer P1_T1]] them leave. By the time you make it inside via the window and stumble your way through the sty you sleep in, you see your hand raising to meet your face. The sill must have slit your left palm. A thin, red duet of inches nonchalantly secrete redness at a pace similar to your own. <</replace>><</click>></span> <</replace>><</click>></span> <</replace>><</click>></span> <</replace>><</click>></span>

You realize you just used the word "lacerative". You make a mental note to [[cut|cuts]] [[down]] on hanging with [[Cassie]].

<span class="magicman">There are these very specific moments in life, these extremely rare states of being, when during the shortest span of time possible your mind thinks of someone extremely close to you and acknowledges the deep impression they've had on your life while simultaneously focusing on the fact that the only person you can every truly know is yourself and even then barely. These moments occur very infrequently but are so jarring that they can derail an entire relationship. That is, of course, assuming relationships are trains barreling unidirectionally on fixed tracks to predetermined stations. Which is kind of a depressing assumption. And yet unsettlingly accurate.</span> <<timed 10s>><<goto [[wonderment]]>><</timed>>

The ring sings, extending beyond end and pretending it's sending its excessive bits of sifted silence off as the volume wavers... You really need to [[stop thinking |stopthinking]].

You examine the scars on your hands and arms. <i>Books would be worthless without letters scribbled in them.</i> [[You wonder]] [[if| you wonder two]] you should maybe be more careful when using sharp objects.

[[You wonder if|you wonder four]] you should slow down when [[multitasking at work]].

You wonder if

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You chuckle at the absurdity of that thought. There's dreaming, and then there's dreaming while the flames of hell rage violently around you. One is a flight of fancy, the other the opposite of praying before dinner... hating before starvation? Your train of thought is jumbled. You do **not** wonder if that is odd or unusual. The thought of non-jumbled thoughts... Now that... You remember your job, and you sigh so deeply that you now wonder if it is at all possible to die from not breathing enough. Then again, you suppose, that's exactly what dying is. Another sigh. You wonder if you should [[go to work]].

[[down]]

<span class="shake-slow shake-constant shake-constant--hover"><span class="glitch">@@.shake-crazy;S@@@@.shake-little;T@@@@.shake-freeze;O@@@@.shake-slow;P@@@@.shake-horizontal;T@@@@.shake-hard;H@@@@.shakechunk;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;K@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;G@@@@.rumble;S@@@@.shudder;T@@@@.rumble;O@@@@.shudder;P@@@@.rumble;T@@@@.shudder;H@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;K@@@@.shudder;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;G@@@@.shudder;S@@@@.rumble;T@@@@.shudder;O@@@@.rumble;P@@@@.shudder;T@@@@.rumble;H@@@@.shudder;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;K@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;G@@@@.rumble;S@@@@.shudder;T@@@@.rumble;O@@@@.shudder;P@@@@.rumble;T@@@@.shudder;H@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;K@@@@.shudder;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;G@@@@.shudder;S@@@@.rumble;T@@@@.shudder;O@@@@.rumble;P@@@@.shudder;T@@@@.rumble;H@@@@.shudder;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;K@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;G@@@@.shudder;S@@@@.rumble;T@@@@.shudder;O@@@@.rumble;P@@@@.shudder;T@@@@.rumble;H@@@@.shudder;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;K@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;G@@@@<<timed 5s t8n>><span class="smallerest">[[stop trying to stop thinking]]</span><</timed>><span class="glitch">@@.shudder;S@@@@.rumble;T@@@@.shudder;O@@@@.rumble;P@@@@.shudder;T@@@@.rumble;H@@@@.shudder;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;K@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;G@@@@.shudder;S@@@@.rumble;T@@@@.shudder;O@@@@.rumble;P@@@@.shudder;T@@@@.rumble;H@@@@.shudder;I@@@@.rumble;N@@@@.shudder;K@@@@.rumble;I@@@@.shudder;N@@@@.rumble;G@@@@</span></SPAN>

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<div align=center><span class=mainscreenstyle><div class="fade-in-out-slow"> <h1><span class="cursor-none">[[YOU'RE|firstscreenwhat]]</span> <span class="cursor-none">[[NOT|firstscreenwhat]]</span> <span class="cursor-none">[[YOURSELF|firstscreenwho]]</span> </h1> </div> </span> <<timed 25s>><<goto "firstscreenwho">><</timed>> </div>

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<div class=bigtext><a id="choice-trigger">question</a>\ <span id="response"></span>\ <<clickdialogchoice "#choice-trigger" "question the answer" "$buttonChoice">>\ who <button id="am-i">am i</button>\ <button id="are-you">are you</button> <<whenclosed>> <<if $buttonChoice == "am-i">> <<remove "#choice-trigger">> <<replace "#response">> [[who i am|thefall]]<</replace>> <<elseif $buttonChoice == "are-you">> <<remove "#choice-trigger">> <<replace "#response">>[[who you are|RooftopBluesVersionA]]<</replace>> <<else>> <<replace "#choice-trigger">>or answer the question, if preferred...<</replace>> <</if>> <</clickdialogchoice>></div>

<div class=falldown><<fadein 10s>>I am one with the true nature of nothingness. <</fadein>> <<fadein 20s 500ms>><<cyclinglink "Dissolved." "Shapeless." "Void." "Infinite.">><</fadein>> </div> <<timed 22s>><<goto [[andyet]]>><</timed>>

Shell is born > [[birthofashell]]

Shell is born

-Shell is born and quickly finds himself having to save Witt from an uncontrollable panic attack. -Shell is bombarded with information as the dim grays on the glass walls fade off to reveal four scenes playing out on the glass. [these scenes foreshadow later parts of his mission] -------------------------------- Patches of blankness flickered in and out of existence, slowly arching into each other. In the exact middle of the glass room, above the crossed circle, vapor escaped from a shimmering slit and wafted off in no direction. Witt could only stare. "Wh… what?" Wreck sighed. In one motion, he picked the broom back up and tapped at a red note stuck to the glass wall behind him. "That, sir, would be your hero."***** Witt turned to Rec, raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about this?" "I think so. Then again... I’ve been known to be wrong about things. But that thing sure don’t look insignificant, for sure." The hole, bleeding gray tufts and spitting cracked lines of dim orange, grew and thinned and dissolved as the shape of a levitating man formed itself. This outlines Wreck motions for Witt to help him, and together they push a big black box under the now fully visible man. The two back off again, staring at the odd sight. As the final few swirls of colors disperse, the newcomer opens his eyes. Silence. The two clothed men stare at each other, each nudging for the other to do something. Finally, the fallen man sighs, pushes a pointed finger at the cleaner’s chest, and lets out a grumble. “Let me handle this,” he says, and walks over to the middle of the room. Cross-legged, with each foot on its opposite thigh, the naked man atop the black box stares at nothing. The man in the thick jacket carefully walks a circle around the newcomer, then circles back, examining him like a specimen. Finally, he stops back where he started, and clears his throat. “Welcome. Or happy birthday, I guess?” The naked man remains unmoving. “Hello. My name…” he turns to the shrugging cleaner, then back to the guest. “You can call me Witt.” Despite the lack of acknowledgement, Witt extends a hand. After a few seconds, he leans in closer. Then, closer still. Until the two faces are inches away from each other. Their eyes line up but somehow neither seems to see the other. With a sigh, Witt begins to whisper. “I don’t know if you can hear me. I… I don’t really know much of anything. I’m lost, i’m tired, and… I am scared out of my mind.” He closes his eyes. “I don’t know where-” his voice breaks. “I… don’t know why I’m here. All I know right now is that I need help. I need your help.” Witt opens his eyes, and in the blankness of the naked mans’ stare, he can almost catch a faint glimmer, deep, lost, somewhere inside the mans’ being. “I need you to help me. Please.” No response. “You…” ---------------------------

<div align=center><span class=mainscreenstyle><div class="fade-in-out-slow"> <span class="cursor-none">It began with a slit in the subconscious mind. A rip so thin, it could allow only the slightest of possibilities the dream of escape. And so escape they must have, fleeing off into the dimmest regions of the surface. Several severed bits of thought would make their way through this errant portal. These severely scattered yet vaguely connected pieces might form the preface of a misshapen circle. Wobbling, swirling across the dark edges of consciousness. Or course, none of this makes sense. How could it? We are all rational, logical adults here. And we all know what is true and what is not. There’s no such thing. </span></div>

---------- <<revision side>>Off to the side is a <<revise side "stable">> for the wagon-pulling animals.<<becomes>>Some other text.<<endrevision>>

<div class=falldown><<fadein 10s>>And<</fadein>> <<fadein 20s>>Yet<</fadein>> <<fadein 30s>>I<</fadein>> <<fadein 40s>> <<linkappend "think." t8n>> In some unfathomable way there is still form, here, <<cyclinglink "floating" "drifting" "flailing" "flickering">>, <<cyclinglink "ambiguous" "faintly" "dim">>, <<cyclinglink "calm" "lifeless" "still" "flat">>, wavering.<</linkappend>>.<</fadein>> <<fadein 90s>>I know I have a <<cyclinglink "purpose" "point" "reason">>.<</fadein>> <span class=fadeindown><<fadein 150s>>...Or am I random? A being of not being, sprung forth to create a <<cyclinglink "reason" "purpose" "point">>.<</fadein>></span> <<fadein 200s>>A [[memory|memoria]]. Opaque, flush with dim static and blurs of would-be shapes, but a memory. [[I|imustsave]] am certain.<</fadein>></div>

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<span id="conv1"><<click " I...">><<replace "#conv1">>"I must do something." the boy asks, and he's already looking through the doorway into the small downstairs bathroom. <span id="conv2"><<click " >">><<replace "#conv2">>"Yes, but we won't be here long today. This is just to see if there's anything we need to fix or replace before we move in next week." <span id="conv3"><<click " >">><<replace "#conv3">>The boy pelts upstairs immediately. The mother looks at Iris, then smiles. "Check the downstairs with me?" <span id="conv4"><<click " >">><<replace "#conv4">>Iris shrugs. "Sure." The pair walk into the living room together. You [[watch|DFoyer P1_T1]] them leave. <</replace>><</click>></span> <</replace>><</click>></span> <</replace>><</click>></span> <</replace>><</click>></span>

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How is it that for just a single moment you thought you could believe in a future that you were happy, and in a future where things were fair and all was well?

Waft.