Well, my friends and I finished doing that energy analysis of the pipes. It took longer than expected, so we made a sleepover out of it. Popped some popcorn. Gossiped about the Magus and Ley Line Mapping professors "secretly dating". Did the arcane rituals to expose the alignment energies of all entities residing in the school's drainage and sewer systems. Watched that really awful Batman movie from the 1990's. It was fun. And seeing as students from the east hemisphere are moving back home soon (lucky stiffs always go first) for the summer, it was a nice goodbye party, too. It's cool how close this year's Positivity Club has gotten.

It was pretty interesting, the things we detected with our energy analysis. There's like 5 spirit echoes in the pipes near the first-year dorms restrooms. Myuri -- she's the only one of us that can reliably communicate with these types -- said that they imprints of the intense emotions from the 1953 Bully Incident victims. Apparently these guys went to give some poor kid a swirly, unaware that he was a alkaline-based lifeform. Ever see an alkaline metal interact with toilet water? The ensuing explosion was so intense, the aggression, panic, and malice of those involved have been echoing in those pipes for decades. I think a kid might've died, too. Remember kids, don't bully people. Not only is it WRONG, but you don't know what their reaction might be.

Some other things we identified included a small pack of cute moss imps, a lone kappa near one of the exit pipes, a very waterlogged wooden box that felt cursed, and a roving group of feral magika leeches. There was also what seemed to be a large slime creature sloshing around the science lab area, which must have been what I'd been hearing earlier. Trevor could see it with his Third Eye, and he said it looked like a cosmetics shop had barfed on it and then painted it psychedelic hippie colors. While it is an eyesore, its energies were neutral, so as long as it's happy and not causing issues I guess it's fine to let it gloop about in the pipes. But Myuri said we'd better tell someone about the kappa. But honestly, any kid who's survived until summer break at Psychic High School should know full well how to respect and survive kappa territory.

Okay guys, be honest with me... have the pipes been sounding weird to anyone else lately? Especially near the science labs. If you listen closely, it sounds like something is dragging itself through the draining system... something heavy.

Now, I know that sometimes the mermaid population in the school includes a mudskip-maid or two, but I swear I haven't seen any in the halls or swamp pools this year. And after that one time Marissa got caught sneaking through the pipes after curfew the school basically blocked all the traditional entrances, so even if the mudskip-maids were here it still couldn't be them. I'm starting to worry about whatever it is that's scooting along in the drainage system. With all the Strange Patterns graffiti paint that the janitors have been trying wash off the walls, the drains are probably even more dangerous and confusing than usual. You know, I stepped in a puddle of that paint's ooze yesterday, and was so enticed by the splatter it left I didn't look where I was going and fell down the steps. Several times. I had to throw the shoe away in the end. I felt uncomfortable with its affect on my sole.

Anyway, I think I'll have the Positivity Club do an analysis of entity energies in the school pipes. Just to be safe. But as long as no nefarious aura influxes pop up, well, one more "mystery" at Psyhigh can't hurt, right? If you guys could do me a favor and not dump anything excessively toxic, unstable, or drain-clogging down the pipes for a little bit, that'd be awesome. I mean, we're supposed to be handing that stuff over to Tulka for "special disposal" anyways.

Things are surprisingly calm around here. Typically the end of the year gets a bit crazy, as kids start taking rules less seriously and shenanigans inevitability follow. But besides one reported student disappearance -- I guess the flying bike club has been combing the skies for a misplaced member -- I haven't heard of anything going hectic lately. Maybe it's because Mother Ship landed on Sunday. Mother's presence always seems to calm the student body. A guy in my Runic Mathic class was trying to convince us that Mother Ship has a system that generates a microelectronic current, and when it lands every student on the ground gets caught in the flow. He had a whole chart on his phone showing how the current activated "guilt patterns" in the typical humanoid brain structure. According to him, that's why Psyhigh dorms are suddenly cleaner, quieter, and more polite whenever Mother visits. There's a guilt trip wired in our brains.

Prof. מוֹרֶה came in then and was displeased to hear him slandering Mother. She sent him out of class to go tell Mother what he'd done. He's yet to return. Somebody asked @Big Jim what happened, and he said something about Mother grounding him. But the rumor is, Mother is now using him as the Ground for the Guilt Electrical Current he'd exposed.

Just goes to show why you shouldn't upset Mother.

Teachers are cruel beings sometimes. I only have a week of classes left, yet my Dangerous Shapes teacher is insisting on assigning us yet another project. She assures us this will be the last one, but I don't believe it. Honestly the only thing more deceptive than her is the Trapezoidal Prism. If you see that thing scooting about the back of a room, be wary of everything. It likes to shift things around, changing centers of balance, alignments, political views, and the like. Once the Trapezoidal Prism arrives, you won't leave that place without at LEAST five "Unexpected Unexplainables" happening, as Lady HuuuuuniiiiIIII likes to call them.

The project is we have to make a rocket for rocket launches on Wednesday. I don't even get why we're doing this. We launched rockets earlier this year, with great success. The Cloud Domain is still paying tribute to the school administration out of fear of the Dangerously Shaped Missiles we shot into their rebelling territory. In fact, one group of clouds still aren't raining quite right. You know the one, where it always starts/stops precipitating about ten minutes after the rest of the sky. I know it's causing havoc on the extremely delicate Cloud Domain socioeconomics, but it's rather pretty to see that little inconsistency of nature.

Maybe Lady HuuuuuniiiiIIII is trying to create another one of those irregularities. Or maybe she's trying to intimidate the Cloud Domain into letting her resume her research of the formation and behavior of cloud shapes. All I know is that this project is worth a solid 50 points of our grade, so I better find a way to do well on it. I've never been very good at "hands-on" projects -- but I'll certainly try. I've been playing with the idea of using some of my meditation cocoon remnants in the design somehow. It probably has some properties to it that would really give my rocket a boost. And there's plenty of strands from others' cocoons still blowing around the dorms, getting caught in vents and forming ominous clumps in the corner of the stair well. I guess kids on my floor are great at making these things, but awful at cleaning them up. Pro-tip to future upperclassmen: lint rollers are great at getting the strands out of fabrics, but for wallpaper or plaster you'll need to use a vinegar-based salve. Otherwise it'll stain, and within two weeks your room will be condemned, due to all the suppressed angst and stress that starts oozing out from within. I guess that's just what happens when walls can talk. They're so relieved they SCREAM.

Hello! I've awakened from my meditative state. I haven't yet been able to pull all of the strands of astral plane cocoon from my sweater -- apparently it sticks exceptionally well to our corduroy uniforms -- but I'll deal with that later. More pressing matters include realigning my physical shell with this plane and getting rid this awful morning-mouth taste. Ten days straight of inertness leaves you with awful halitosis, as anyone who's taken the Corporeal Suspension class will attest to. I know my roommate has a tin of mints somewhere in here, I just have to find them (and avoid the protection ward she inevitably etched on the lid. She never wants to share).

Hopefully all that work I put in was worth it. I took my finals, endured my AP tests, and narrowly survived the internal meltdown of my final project. I'm completely exhausted. I can't even open my Other Eyes to help me find where these STUPID MINTS ARE-- er, but anyway, I'll get my final grades back on the 21st of the month. And like the many students who have come before me, until then I will don the traditional charms, talismans, and amulets fabled to bring good luck and convince teachers to round your high B to a low A! If I'm really lucky, my older brother will remember to send me the gakugyo-joju he's been promising me. It's this old Japanese amulet that's been in our family for generations. There's some epic family legend behind it explaining its potency, uniqueness, and why we have it. It's pretty cool. I'm not sure if it actually helps or if it's just an aesthetically pleasing placebo effect, but I've yet to get a grade lower than an solid B whilst wielding it.

When we still went to the same school, my brother and I shared it a lot. Whoever had a big test coming up (or was in worse academic shape in general) would carry it around for the scholarly luck it grants. But since he's at college and I'm still "just" in high school, he's been hogging it a lot more than usual this year. But he swore on the grand totem of Grandpa Kaiun that I'd get to have it for the last week of classes, so hopefully I'll be able to reap SOME benefits when it arrives. Though I wouldn't be surprised if it shows up too late. Since he's on a college-kid-budget, he sends things by the economically-priced "Cornu Aspersum Cursorium" system. It's like, literally snail mail.

I'm going to be gone for a while. I'll be in a deep meditative state, allowing my astral projection(s) to work on my Runic Mathic project, AP study programs, final test study guides, and my Dangerous Shapes speech/poster. Why do teachers always assign posters? Maybe they collect them like trading cards. Or maybe they pull from it the ambiance of whatever emotions you were feeling while making the poster. I've heard rumors that the freshman Astrology teacher has a room filled with bottled sentiments, collected from all the tests and homework turned into him over his three centuries teaching at Psyhigh. I wonder what he uses them for?

Anyway, yeah, I'm disconnecting from reality for a bit. I'm even putting some protective wards and such on my dorm room door to keep people from barging in and disrupting my focus. A lot of upperclassmen on my floor are doing similar things this year. I used to think people who did this stuff were crazy -- why would you want to lock yourself up when the weather is just starting to get nice again? Well, now I understand. Take it from me, innocent underclassmen: enjoy your time. You'll miss the days when the end of the school year was just a couple of tests and then watching a movie. Some day you'll understand why kids like Almira snap.

(Speaking of which, I advise everyone steer clear of Green House 12 for today. School security is still trying to contain Almira's "little melt down".)

The class slacker asked to be my partner on the End Of The Year Final Project.

I made up an excuse not to.

They found one of the forbidden incantations, brainwashed the teacher, and are trying to convince them to force us to be partners.

I am looking for a doorway to one of the Void Dimensions.

This project is worth 100 points. I'd rather lock myself in a void and work alone than get dragged down by an uncooperative partner that smells like sweaty neutrons.

Hey, whoever made the poster that's hanging in the Kinesis hallway... nice job. It's pretty clever. My friends and I stood there un-encrypting it and laughing for like, five minutes. Who knew that students studying something as serious as seances could have such an awesome sense of humor?

I'm supposed to be practicing my presentation on Gerard Croiset, the Parapsychologist right now, but I just can't motivate myself to do it. I think I'll go down to the commons for a little bit instead. Some fresh air usually does me some good. Plus, it's pretty funny to watch some of the rowdier flying bike riders dive-bomb the Open Campus visitors. Most of them hightail it out of there screaming and/or laughing, but a couple of the little tykes deviate from the norm. Yesterday, I was watching this one girl, and when a biker swooped toward her, she literally bent her spine into a U-shape to get out of the way. It was like she had a slinky for a backbone! I bet you anything she's going to get a gymnastics scholarship for here.

Oh man, Eddgarion is playing his pan flute again. Ugh, I hate listening to it. He's not a bad musician, I just dislike the songs. When I look at the sounds with my Other Eyes, I can see all the subliminal content he's squeezing in there. It looks awful. Luckily, he's not skilled enough yet to cause any harm. But he gives some people some pretty nasty headaches. And seeing as several of my dorm-neighbors have their psychic stuffs centered in their mind... things get unstable pretty quickly. I'm getting out of here before things start Happening.

It's every introverted upperclassmen's nightmare. A plague that descends periodically upon the school. Worse than the Freshmen Orientation Week, where unstable entities and incapable newbies bounce cluelessly from class to class. No, much worse. It's Open Campus Period, an length of time where Psyhigh allows certain perspective students to go on tours, shadow current students (figuratively or literally), spend a night in the dorms, attend meetings with Admissions and/or counselor(s)... you know. The things every nervous soccer mom is looking for so she can properly scrutinize and criticize her child's potential future school. Gosh, do I hate this time of year.

These obnoxious 8th-graders -- or whatever the grade equivalent is for their respective home plane -- are everywhere it seems. Every time I turn a corner I hear another one sputtering swear words and vulgarity, trying to sound cool but just sounding pathetic. Even worse, sometimes they'll gather into herds and ogle at the more unusual sights and students at Psyhigh. It's like they've never even seen a Stage-5 Homunculus before! It's really detrimental to their development to be stared at like that. They're very self-conscious at that age.

These little brats even stare at ME. Listen guys, chill. I live here. Just let me get to fifth hour study hall, I'll let you finish your tour that will inevitably emotionally scar 5% of your group, and we'll all be good. But no, no matter what obscure secret passage I take I end up tripping over at least one lost tyke mumbling dazedly "Is this real? What is this? Memes?" They're literally coming out of the woodwork! Though, rumor has it that a roving gang of Imps that escaped from the Accelerated Legendary Creatures classroom are responsible for that. You know how it is, hexing them so they meld into the walls until the "Anti-Hex Word" is uttered around them. It was a real problem back in 2015, if you were around for that. Anyway, my roommate's boyfriend Uuren thinks the word this time around is "Traitor". He said it to his friend when they were getting dinner at the cafeteria, and about fifteen kids suddenly poured out of the wall next to him. So don't be alarmed if you see people walking around muttering "traitor" to the walls and doors. They're probably searching for lost younger siblings or something.

Have a happy Easter kiddies (or a happy, average Sunday). Remember that the egg hunt this afternoon involves chicken eggs only. We seem to lose a couple freshmen every year we do this, so pay attention: If you find an egg that isn't chicken-egg-shaped, has spikes, smells dangerous, speaks to you, runs away from you, creates matter whirlpools around itself, and/or has prophetic hieroglyphics carved into it, it is NOT part of the egg hunt. Leave it alone. Don't say I didn't warn you.

...one day the school will take care of the Doomsday Egg problem...