HELLO EVERYONE!

THE SUMMER SUNNYTIME KICK OFF IS SOON TO COME AND WE HAVE THE FINALIZED SCHEDULE FOR DAY ONE! HERE IT IS:

Day 1: May 31
Dusk: Party-Grounds open
8:30: Sunnytime Craft Center Opens (THE CRAFT CENTER WILL PROVIDE LOTS OF FUN, SAFE CRAFTS, LIKE FROOT LOOP NECKLACES, HAND TURKEYS, DIY CARE FOR A THIRD DEGREE BURN, SLIME MAKING, AND USING BLACK MAGIC TO HEAL CONVULSION)
9:00(to midnight) DJ Sunnytimes on the Main Stage (DJ SUNNYTIMES IS A SUPER COOL BENEVOLENT, ETHEREAL BEING WHO CAN BRING BACK DEAD PEOPLE! WELL, THEY CAN'T BRING BACK THE BODY PART OF THE PERSON, BUT USUALLY, THEY CAN FIND A CORPSE FOR THE SOULS TO GO INTO! OH YEAH! THEY ALSO HAVE AN IPOD FILLED WITH HITS FROM THE 2000's!)
9:15 Community Kitchens Open (THIS IS A PLACE WHERE BAKERS CAN PREPARE FOR THE CAKE WALK WITH SUPERVISION FROM GROTTO G.S.M. UNDISCLOSED SAFETY PATROL, AS WELL AS A PLACE WHERE ANYONE CAN EAT WITH THE SECURITY THAT THEY ARE COMPLETELY SAFE! IN FACT, EVERYONE IS REQUIRED TO EAT ALL THEY WILL EAT IN THE TENTS OF THE COMMUNITY KITCHENS!)
9:30 Cake Walk Round One Begins (THIS WILL BE LIKE LAST YEAR , BUT BETTER! NOT ONLY WILL IT BE SPLIT INTO MULTIPLE ROUNDS, BUT WE HAVE BEAUTIFUL DRESSING ROOMS, A GORGEOUS, STATE OF THE ART CAT WALK, LIVE PHOTOGRAPHY, SAFETY RAILINGS, "BABY PROOFED" SURFACES, NON-THREATENING MUSIC, AND LUXURY WAITING AREAS FOR PARTICIPANTS!)
10:00 GROTTO GHOST MANAGEMENT INCORPORATED INTERN RAFFLE (THIS RAFFLE IS EASILY ENTERED AND HAS MANY WILD PRIZES! ALL YOU NEED TO DO TO ENTER IS SIGN A BINDING MAGICAL AGREEMENT TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR PHYSICAL, MENTAL, AND EMOTIONAL HEALTH! AFTER ALL, HALF OF SAFETY IS PREVENTION!!! INTERNS WILL BE GIVING AWAY THEIR CREATIONS, SKILLS, WILLS TO LIVE, BODIES, AND OTHER SUPER COOL PRIZES!)
11:00 "Don't Do D.R.U.G.S :The Play" on The Empress Stage
11:00 "Healthy Relationships" lecture by Professor Branigan on The Prince Stage
11:20 "Don't Do D.R.U.G.S :The Play" on The Empress Stage
11:20 "Work-Life Balance" lecture by Professor Branigan on The Prince Stage
11:40 Live Performance from The Beatles (YES ACTUALLY THEM! DJ SUNNYTIME REINCARNATED THE DEAD MEMBERS FOR US!!!! WELL THEY ARE NOT IN THEIR ORIGINAL BODIES AND THE LIVING MEMBERS ARE KIDNAPPED AND THEY ARE ALL CRYING AND PRAYING FOR DEATH, BUT IT WILL STILL BE A REALLY GOOD PERFORMANCE!

THANK YOU,
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU, SO WE CAN KEEP YOU ALIVE™

HELLO EVERYONE!!

THE SUMMER SUNNYTIME KICK OFF WILL BE HELD THROUGH MAY 31ST, STARTING AT DUSK TO JUNE SECOND AT DAWN.
IT WILL FOLLOW IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF OUR PREVIOUS PARTY THE BACK-TO-SCHOOL SACRIFICIAL BALL, EXCEPT IT WILL BE BIGGER, BRIGHTER, BETTER, AND MUCH SAFER FOR YOU SOFT, MEATY MORTALS!!

IT WILL TAKE PLACE AT PSYCHIC HIGH AND ALL STUDENTS WILL BE PROVIDED WITH HELPFUL INFORMATION PACKETS ON SAFE PATHS TO THE PARTY-GROUNDS,CLEAR SCHEDULES ON EVENTS, AND SAFETY TIPS, AS WELL AS REFLECTIVE GEAR AND FLASHLIGHTS FOR THE WALK TO AND FROM THE PARTY-GROUNDS.

THE DRESS IS SUMMER CASUAL, BUT ALL PARTY-GOERS ARE HIGHLY RECOMMENDED TO BRING A WIDE BRIMMED HAT TO REDUCE SUN EXPOSURE, A LIGHT WEIGHT BAG WITH FOOD AND WATER TO PREVENT DEHYDRATION AND LOW BLOOD SUGAR, AND A PARTYING SPIRIT!

THEIR WILL BE LIVE MUSIC, PRE-APPROVED VENDORS, AND FUN GAMES THROUGHOUT THE PARTY-GROUNDS. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE A VENDOR FOR THE SUMMER SUNNYTIME KICK OFF PLEASE CONTACT US HERE! OR THROUGH ANOTHER SAFE METHOD, LIKE NEVER LEAVING YOUR HOUSE AND JUST WHISPERING YOUR REQUESTS THROUGH THE RECEIVER OF YOUR LANDLINE TELEPHONE. EITHER WAY WORKS.

MORE DETAILS TO COME!

THANK YOU,
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU, TO KEEP YOU ALIVE™

HELLO EVERYONE!

WE HAVE AN EXCITING ANNOUNCEMENT! FOR THIS UPCOMING SUMMER SEMESTER, WE WILL TESTING OUT A BRAND NEW TECHNOLOGY WE HAVE BEEN DEVELOPING ON CAMPUS!!
IT IS CALLED ::f r i e n d:: !!THE ::f r i e n d:: SYSTEM IS COMPLEX AND BEAUTIFUL, BUT WE WON'T BE LETTING GO OFF THE DETAILS JUST YET!! THAT TIES US INTO SOME FANTASTIC NEWS!!
WE WILL BE ANNOUNCING OUR FULL PLANS FOR ::f r i e n d:: AT OUR SUMMER SUNNYTIME KICK OFF PARTY!!

WE ARE CREATING THIS BRAND NEW, SUMMER SUNNYTIME KICK OFF PARTY WITH THE SPIRIT OF OUR PREVIOUS BACK-TO-SCHOOL SACRIFICIAL BALL, WHICH IF YOU REMEMBER, WAS QUITE THE CELEBRATION!!
BUT THIS TIME, IT WILL BE BIGGER, BETTER, BRIGHTER, BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, SAFER FOR YOU SOFT, MEATY MORTALS!!!

DETAILS ON THE SUMMER SUNNYTIME KICK OFF WILL BE RELEASED SHORTLY!!

THANK YOU,
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU, SO WE CAN KEEP YOU ALIVE™

EVERYONE,
WE HAVE A SOLEMN ANNOUNCEMENT.
AFTER A LONG WEEK OF SEARCHING FOR PROFESSOR WREN MARTIN, WE HAVE FOUND AN OMINOUS PIECE OF EVIDENCE.

IN THE WOODS LEADING UP TO PROFESSOR MARTIN AND THEIR ROOMMATE, LARISSA CARRIS' APARTMENT BUILDING, WE HAVE FOUND THREE THINGS.

NUMBER ONE, A CRYING AND DIRTY LARRISA CARRIS,

NUMBER TWO, A TORN, BURNT AND WORN LEATHER BOUND JOURNAL,

AND NUMBER THREE, A BIG, WHITE VAN ENGULFED IN BRIGHT, BOILING FLAMES. THIS METAL ELEPHANT BURNING IN THE COOL, DEWY MORNING AIR.

WHILE THE AUTOPSY HAS NOT YET BEEN COMPLETELY, A BODY WAS FOUND IN THE VAN,

A BODY THAT COULD VERY MUCH BE OF YOUR PROFESSOR, WREN MARTIN.

WE REGRET OUR CONSTANT COMPLAINING.
WE REGRET OUR GRIEVANCES AGAINST THEM.
WE REGRET THE DECISION WE MADE TO BE ANNOYED WITH PROFESSOR MARTIN.
THEY WERE ONLY MORTAL.
THEY WERE ONLY A TEACHER,
ONLY A FILMMAKER,
ONLY AN ARTIST,
ONLY A HUMAN.
NOW A LIFE MOST LIKELY GONE FOREVER AND FOR WHAT REASON? WE HAVE NO IDEA.
WE CAN'T KNOW WHY THEIR LIFE IS GONE. WE DO KNOW THAT WE ARE FILLED WITH GUILT. OUR LAST WORDS WERE MOST CERTAINLY NOT KIND.

IN THE TIME AND SPACE OF MORTALITY, WHO KNOWS WHEN DEATH MAY STRIKE?

NO. WHO KNOWS WHEN THE UNIVERSE OR FATE OR SIMPLY TWO PEOPLE WILL CONSPIRE AGAINST THAT MORTAL EXISTENCE?

THIS IS OUR RESOLUTION.
WE WILL PROTECT MORTALS,


AT ALL COSTS.


WE WILL CONTINUE TO UPDATE YOU, AS INFORMATION DEVELOPS.
WITH CONDOLENCES,
GROTTO GHOST MANAGEMENT INC.

I know it is perhaps, not kosher to just post directly to the GROTTO G.S.M. journal, but I must in this dire situation. Please, Students, listen.

The knock at my door was not benevolent. It was not neighbors bringing me a warm plate of cookies or more likely, coming to yell at me for being too loud, but instead two tall figures grabbing me and putting me in a large duffel bag. Currently, I am in the back of a cold, metal van, after what seems like years of being carried about in a duffel bag. They played loud music out of what I imagine are boomboxes on their shoulders, giving me no ability to call for help.

Luckily, now that I am in the van, I have been able to retrieve my journal, that I always keep hidden with me. Students, I do not know my fate. I have no certainty in my existence or lack of, no one does. Before this true uncertainty settles I must tell you about what happened to me, only a few nights ago.

I was walking down a path through some woods that led to my apartment complex. It is very close to the school, so I go down it everyday. At this point, it was so familiar that I could walk down it with no thought and that was exactly what I was doing.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a gaggle of people behind me clad in pastel polo shirts, fishnet tops, skin tight leather pants and hair up in brightly colored Mohawks. I was startled. No one regularly walked down this path, especially at this time. I scolded myself silently, due to my mindlessness I had missed this.

At first, I was unconcerned, but as the path winded forward and they took none of the forking paths, I became worried. They were trailing rather close and they were rather quiet. I turned down a path I knew that would send them back to Psychic High. If they had been using the path normally, they would not follow me, I hypothesized. Sure enough, they turned down the path with me.

I thought they were following then. Well, I knew they were following me. They were either armatures, or experts that wanted me to be intimidated, but no normal group walks that close to an individual, without ulterior motives.
I felt it from the bottom of my toes, two things flooding my system. First, the instant panic found, when you realize you are being followed by a group of people on empty path, who can't certainly have good intentions.

But I also felt a cascading river of liquid fate. It filled up the empty spaces between my ligaments and bones and hit my soul whispering it an intention. This fate like an angry and rocking ocean made me run off the path and into the aspen tree woods that surrounded it. I was so close to the school. It made no sense not to go back to the people and students and staff that I knew and loved and in return, somewhat knew and tolerated me. The liquid fate had a chemical reaction with the panic,producing a intoxicating gas that put my feet and soul in charge.

I turned into the trees rushing, rushing, rushing. I was in no shape to be running, but this cocktail of panic and fate forced my foot to make contact with soil, then lift and touch and lift and touch and lift and touch.
I could hear the awkwardly dressed gaggle having trouble navigating the woods. It was filled with branches leaping out to grab. Branches that would love to take a taste of fishnet.
The panic shrugged away just bit, but I kept running, running, running. Soon, the panic whir-pooled, as I heard the pounding footsteps, heaving breathing, and squeak of leather pants close behind me.

They were gaining on me. I pushed and rushed and ran. I heard them closer and closer and closer ,until I could feel breath.
I was getting close to a clearing filled up by a hill. I just had to make it up the hill. I just had to make it up the hill. Why? I had no idea. That whisper of an intention that liquid fate told my soul, it knew why I needed to get up that hill. I did not.
I felt a hand brushing against my arm, no not brushing, clasping desperately.
I had no time to scream, it only forced my forward faster and into the clearing.
up the hill
up the hill
up the hill
the person was close behind me.
up the hill
up the hill
up the hill
I was halfway up, I was going to make, I was going to make
up the hill
up the hill
snap
roll
tumble
I'm on back looking up at a grey sky. What happened? I tripped? It doesn't matter. He already has the advantage. I look up a pale eyed boy with wide grin and a polo torn across where a logo once was. His shiny blue Mohawk reflecting the light of the sharp knife in his hand.
The panic rushed up to meet my lips as he raised up the knife to strike me down. A scream nearly leaped out of my lips to provide the soundtrack for my final moments, but then
the boy looked up
and his face fell
and he dropped his knife
I looked up and saw it
up on the hill
up on the wonderful hill
was the @Level 9 Bouncy House
in all it's glory.
Casting a shadow of me and the boy and the hill
was the Level 9 Bouncy House.
It let out a wild roar, not of fear or evil, but one strong in it's morality, in it's justice.
The boy began to run down the hill.
He was fast, very fast.
But the Level 9 Bouncy House, it was still better.
It soared through the air like a graceful leopard over me and following the boy in the woods.
I lied there for a moment.
Just taking it in; the bouncy house, the hill, the boy, the group, the leather pants,
THE LEVEL 9 BOUNCY HOUSE!!
and me.
Just on that hill.
Just me on that hill.

I don't know if this connects to the disappearance of the students.If this gang of hot topic puke it the answer to this mystery, but it is certainly a clue to something devious at Psychic High.

Oh no, Students, The van has stopped. Oh no, Oh no, I hear the doors opening. I am sorry, Students, I hear the sound of a gun being loaded. That panic students, that liquid fate, I hear it sloshing about inside me. I am sorry, Students, I am so very sorry.
Please, Let my T R U E A R T live, Students.
Don't forget this, Students. DON'T FORGET THIS.


Wren Martin
Your Former Teacher

HELLO EVERYONE!

WE HAVE ANOTHER MESSAGE... TODAY HAS NOT BEEN A GOOD DAY FOR MESSAGES. HOPEFULLY, PROFESSOR MARTIN WILL NOT DISAPPOINT, BUT LET'S BE HONEST, THEY ALWAYS DO.

Students, I am becoming more and more concerned about how many students are going missing and how unremembered they are. To be frank, I have become a bit obsessed with this.
I followed the paper trail of a young boy who had been in my class named Stacy Brooks. He was a vocal activist at school and was constantly on social media, sharing news articles, reporting on school events, and advertising Activism Club.
His social media and attendance were consistently busy and consistently full, but then at exactly 3:19 am, Friday, March 9th, 2018, it went completely dark. He had been late-night live streaming with the entire Activism Club, about a recent political scandal, when the screen went completely dark.
It continued live streaming all night long and at 4:15 am exactly, the video cut back in. His room was completely empty, not a speck of evidence that anyone had ever been in the room. After that his social media was empty, not one post since that day.
Every teacher in every class marks him as excused absence, but there is no record of anyone excusing it for him. He has not been to my class since. He has completely gone. I called his parents, relatives, friends, all of them hung up when I mentioned him or they said they had never know someone named Stacy, much less been friends or family with one.
It was concerning to say the least. Even more concerning after the events of last night.
I will tell you about them later, but right now someone is knocking on my door.
I miss you T R U E A R T, but I have things to do.
Professor Martin

WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE!!!
WREN IS A MANIAC! WHAT KIND OF DELUSIONAL FOOL THINKS IT IS OKAY TO STALK A STUDENTS SOCIAL MEDIA?? THIS IS DISGUSTING!!!

AND WITH A LITTLE RESEARCH, WE FOUND THAT THERE HAS NEVER BEEN A STACY WHO HAS ATTENDED PSYCHIC HIGH OR EVEN STEPPED FOOT ON PSYCHIC HIGH.
IN FACT, THERE IS NOT A STACY IN THIS ENTIRE UNIVERSE.
STACY HAS NEVER,EVER BEEN SOMEONE'S REAL NAME.
IT IS ONLY AN INVENTION FOR TEEN SLICE-OF-LIFE NOVELLAS AND ROMCOMS.
EVERYONE KNOWS THIS!! IT IS BASIC 3RD GRADE ALGEBRA, NEARLY EVERY YOUNG CHILD KNOW THERE HAS NEVER BEEN STACY IN THIS WORLD OR THE NEXT!!
SOMETHING IS TERRIBLY WRONG WITH PROFESSOR WREN MARTIN.

SOMETHING IS TERRIBLY, TERRIBLY WRONG.

THANK YOU,
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU™

HELLO EVERYONE!

WE HAVE A MESSAGE FROM PROF. BRANIGAN!

Hello Students.

While I anticipated arriving last Friday, something incredibly peculiar has occurred.
I must start at the beginning. I drafted my journal post while waiting to board my flight. I had finished writing up about my experience and needed to update everyone, that I would arriving soon.

While the matters of my trip are an entirely different story, I must say it was very,very,very odd. So, when I saw people lurking around with techno-colored Mohawks, pastel polos, fishnet tops and tight leather pants I thought nothing of it. It was the least of my trips oddities.

But when they slowly began to migrate towards me, I became a little concerned. Could they possibly be some extension of the horrors I have seen so far? Some techno-colored thugs coming to prevent my escape? Then I thought, Achava, do not be so full of yourself, just stand up and you will see that they just have the same flight as you.

Of course, when I did stand up and walk off, they did follow, why else would I write this? I felt the anxiety rising up from my toes. I just needed to find a familiar person. I bee lined for a little coffee/convenience shop I had purchased from earlier. It was run by a tall and broad shouldered girl, named Nicolette, who wore a bright blue hijab and whose thick french accent had left a permanent impression.

The panic rising up to my throat wanted me to turn and see if they were still following me, but I forced myself forward, not looking until I reached the shop. I turned around, expecting to see them lagging close by, poorly concealing their chase, but I saw the pale white face of a blue haired man.
I jumped back, startled. The entire crew of pastel polo clad people stood inside the small coffee shop.

The panic in my throat rose urging me to scream, but I swallowed and choked out, "The weathers been nice, hasn't it?"
"Very," The man smiled back.
I pushed my face into the shape of a smile, but I doubt it felt real. I know they could smell my panic.
"Are you buying anything?" Nicolette rambled, "You have to leave, If you won't, I can't have..."
One of the girls grabbed a can of peanuts by the register and slammed it down, "This and seven lattes to go,"
Nicolette nodded and went though double doors to her little back kitchen to make the coffee. What I friend, she is! I thought, but then I did realize that I had only had a five minute conversation and what might have felt like a friendly connection was most likely just a bushiness owner being polite to her customers.
And upon this realization, dread filled my bones.

These oddly dressed people did nothing just stood around standing at me.
"What flight are you on?" The pale man said.
"Oh, just back to um, Cuba," I swore at myself in my head.
"Oh really?" He held his hand out and shook it around and the girl tossed the peanuts to him.
He opened the lid and safety seal slowly. I wanted desperately to use a sense of charm to alleviate the situation, but I could say nothing. I was too scared that panic would push out my mouth, instead of coherent words.
He munched on the peanuts loudly, slowly. It was agonizing.
I glanced down him and noticed a small detail on his polo. I squinted to see it and my stomach dropped, as it absorbed the image.
"Yep," He smiled. He turned around and slapped down cash on the table. He snapped his fingers and the entire group walked off.

My entire body shook.
My hands sweating and my heart beating nearly out of my chest.

I glanced over to my gate. My suitcase still there with the knew addition of the polo-ed people.
They were waiting for me.
I hurried in the other direction of the gate. I needed to leave the airport. I needed to leave the airport NOW.
I raced down the hallway, trying to make myself look causal, but the panic didn't care to much, so I am sure I looked odd.
Well I know I looked odd, because the Mohawk people immediately noticed me and sprinted after.
I dove into an off limits hallway. I was certainly not fit enough for this sprint, but the adrenaline pushed me forward. I jumped into a staff elevator and rid it down.

At this point, a brown skinned girl running about into unauthorized hallways brought the both reasonable and racist concerns of the airport security. So, now, I am being detained in the airport security questioning office, certainly better than the fear of the leather panted people.
Luckily, I still have my passport and journal with me and at this point, they are the only things I need.

And the logo, on the polo? It was the embroidered logo of Grotto Ghost Management Severs, printed underneath it "LOOSE ENDS? TIED UP - CLEANUP SQUAD".

I will continue to update you students, but my future looks bleak.

NO! ACHAVA IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE GOOD ONE... SHE NOT SUPPOSED TO....
GROTTO G.S.M. WOULD NEVER ENGAGE IN SUCH LUDICROUS ACTIVITIES, NOR WOULD WE EVER CHOSE A DUMB SLOGAN LIKE "LOOSE ENDS? TIES UP". NO, THAT DOESN'T EVEN FIT WITH OUR BRAND.
ACHAVA, THOSE ARE FAKES! WHY WOULD WE WANT TO PREVENT YOU FROM RETURNING? WE CONSTANTLY PRAISE YOU FOR BEING BETTER THAN WREN!!! OR YOU JUST LOOKED AT WRONG, AND IT IS SOME OTHER PASTEL THEMED COMPANIES CLEANUP TEAM, BECAUSE IT IS CERTAINLY NOT OURS!!!!!!

THANK YOU,
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU™

HELLO EVERYONE!

WE HAVE A MUCH ANTICIPATED UPDATE FROM PROFESSOR ACHAVA BRANIGAN AND AFTER AN "ESSAY" FROM PROFESSOR MARTIN.

Hello Students.
I am returning to Psychic High School.
I will arrive tomorrow morning, just in time for the HUMAN BEINGS AND THE ART OF FILM class.
I can't wait to see all of you.
Thank you
Achava

WELL, IT IS SHORT AND SWEET! JUST HOW WE LIKE IT.
AND NOW....
PROFESSOR WREN MARTIN.... WITH A CONVOLUTED OBSERVATION IN THE FORM OF A SURREALIST ESSAY...

Students, I have a concern. Students are going missing by the dozens. @Agatha Crispie and @Ava Elisabeth 's roommates (@Dahlia Makes Tea and @EmilyDH) have gone missing and tons of other students as well. These students are rarely taken note of, usually by a dedicated roommate or curious friend ,like @Carol Song.
Each week I see less students attending my class. Each week the pathways and courtyards are little more empty. Each week the cafeterias and ghost gardens and blood stone circles are not quite as packed.
Students are going missing with no mention of it!
When I talk to my fellow professors and staff, they simply ignore me or act like I am being crazy, or even put fingers in the ears and scream at the top of their lungs, "NANANANANANA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!" over and over again, until I drop the subject.
This has concerned me since I began here, at Psychic High, but it has grown more and more concerning, as the school's once dense population has thinned without alarm.
And I've checked school records, none of the missing students are on holiday or have dropped out. They are just marked as an excused absence, in every one of their classes, everyday.
Students, I will update you on this issue later, but for now farewell and tell T R U E A R T, I said "hi".
-Professor Martin

STUDENTS ARE NOT GOING MISSING!

WHO TOLD YOU THAT, W R E N M A R T I N? S T U D E N T S, ARE NOT GOING MISSING, W R E N.

NO ONE IS GOING MISSING.
NO ONE HAS EVER GONE MISSING.
NO ONE WILL EVER GO MISSING.

WHAT DOES MISSING EVEN MEAN, W R E N?
WHAT DO Y O U EVEN MEAN, W R E N?
WHAT DOES NO ONE MEAN, W R E N?

"STUDENTS ARE NOT GOING MISSING?"
YES, STUDENTS ARE NOT GOING MISSING.

NO ONE IS GOING ANYWHERE.

THANK YOU,
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU™

HELLO EVERYONE!

WE HAVE ANOTHER ESSAY! "YAY"! THIS IS SO "GREAT"! WE "LOVE" THIS SO "MUCH"!!

Hello students, You're next assignment is to write a poem after the following words:
1. Death
2. Breath
3. and long after living respect.
The poem must be fourteen lines long.
The poem must include the word/phrase you choose.
The poem must have at least one rhyme, otherwise it can be rhyming or non-rhyming.
I was given this challenge during a film making boot camp and it tells a lot more about yourself then you would like to think. or not. What do I know?
Here is an example from the first time I did this challenge.

Death.
"What's that?"
She asked.
I was tasked with finding the answer.
New tab:
I type:
Death?
then add:
Death??
For good measure.
I look through results,
then I find a treasure.
I call her over.
She looks.
We see.
I click play.
The images spin.
Black tea spins in a cup
in the hands of an old woman sitting under
a peach tree.
She looks happy, then into our eyes,
"Forget what they said, nobody dies,"
So here,
Her and I
sit together under our own peach tree,
forever.

That's all for now students, and as always, students, stay on the hunt for T R U E A R T, and if you have found it, be a dear old friend and find it's long lost youth.

THIS IS STRANGE... OKAY, WE DON'T HATE THIS ONE.
WELL, THAT'S ALL THEN. WE ARE CAUTIOUSLY OPTIMISTIC ABOUT THE FUTURE OF THESE ESSAYS.

THANK YOU
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU™

HELLO EVERYONE!

WE HAVE ANOTHER ESSAY FROM PROFESSOR WREN. WE ARE FINE. WE ARE NOT ANNOYED...

OKAY HERE IT IS:

Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
It something rarely thought of in a society that values works so highly.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
The ability to work or work the way people you want you to, that has nothing to do with your worth.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
A bad day, week, month, year, that does not determine your worth.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
Your existence has value beyond doing a job.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
Being productive is no means bad. Working is in no means bad. Neither should have a hold on the well being of your soul.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
You value is not determined on your usefulness to others.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.

I have always torn myself apart for not doing perfect. I have always torn myself apart for not doing well. I have always torn myself apart for doing poorly.
Of course, Improvement is always a goal of mine, but never ever should
look into the mirror with despise, hate my very existence, hate my very soul
my very being, because I have not done perfect or well or poorly in work.

My Productivity does not Determine My Worth.
Your Productivity does not Determine Your Worth.
I have value.
You have value.

While this may be out of my typical style, It is something that needed to be said, written, and documented for all of you read, hear and absorb. And as always, students, stay on the hunt for T R U E A R T, and if you have found it, be a dear old friend and fetch it the United States' fascination with capitalism.

THIS IS!!! THIS IS AN ABOMINATION!!!!!!!! THIS IS BLASPHEMY!!!

GROTTO GHOST SERVER MANAGEMENT INCORPORATED DOES NOT AGREE WITH THE IDEAS AND STATEMENTS EXPRESSED BY PROFESSOR WREN MARTIN, NOR ARE THE IDEAS AND STATEMENTS EXPRESSED BY PROFESSOR WREN MARTIN REPRESENTATIVE OF GROTTO GHOST SERVER MANAGEMENT INCORPORATED MISSION, BUSINESS PRACTICES, OR OVERALL VIEW.

THANK YOU
GROTTO G.S.M. INC.
WE CAN ALWAYS HEAR, SEE, TASTE, FEEL, AND/OR SMELL YOU™