Look at the date
Look at the date
I fear my friends
The summer's getting late

How does the time
How does the time
Fly, it flies,
So fast it flies by

Hear the bells chime
Hear the bells chime
The clanging of metal
You know it's a sign

Feel the winds shift
Feel the winds shift
Kids steel your courage
The veil will soon lift

A new year is coming
A school year is coming
With new pains and
New pleasures
New torments
And treasures

So bottle your summer
Imprint your gladness
For a new school year is coming
We stand on the edge of
Abyss.

Hmmm hm hm hmm, hmmm hm hm hmm

Rhythm in the walls
Echoes in the stones
Tales of the past
Those who were before

Patterns so well worn
Students will trek forth
Follow in footsteps
Of previous souls

Hm hmmm Hmm hm hm, Hm hmmm Hmm hm hm

New beings arise
Or plummet from the sky
Old threats come to pass
Stories fade to ash

And you, new player
In this secret game
After your turn took,
Will you be the same?

Hmmm hm hm hmm, hmmm hm hm hmm

Oddities all around
Whispers drowning shouts
Crumble into fear
Or taken in stride?

Hm Hmmm hm hm Hm, Hm Hmmm hm hm Hm

Welcome to the school,
Of wonders and mist
Of secrets and truths
And pathways to pick

Oh, you young ones
Watch where you step
For this is the school
You really can't forget

This message is dirrcted to @Zora Dyne. Beginning transmission of information... ... ... ...

Young student, this message comes from what your people have labeled the Rreoidacgro Sub-Realm. It is being relayed from Intern Gretel to you through me. My name does not use any of the characters present on this "keyboard", so I shant bother myself with providing it.

Intern Gretel is currently engaged in a very special project for my people. Again, I cannot spell its name with your primative language, but suffice it to say it is extremely prestigious and vital to providing our subrealm with the necessary amount of periodic element 125. It requires at least another fortnight of uninterrupted, improvised singing, hence why Intern Gretel cannot relay her message directly.

Through winks, eyebrow wiggles, and several other body language manuevors, Intern Gretel has told me that she wanted to speak to you "Zora Dyne". Based on her charades, I believe she wished to express the following:

- She would never complain about your singing. She encourages all music, whether it's verbal, physical, blue raspberry flavor, or elephant. Though she does have reservations regarding singing between the hours of 2 - 6 am.

- She finds your song for Alastor Dimitri delightful, and is ecstatic that that traditional format of lyrics is living on at Psyhigh.

- If you would like advice on the art of Manisfestation Music, there's an excellent tome on it in Professor Hansel's secret nightmare-guarded hoard.

- She is extremely hungry and would appreciate another ration of singer's food.

Oh dear. That last one was probably directed towards me. I keep forgetting that the beings from your plane require physical inputs to produce energy. I must attend to my charge, or the Psychic High School will recall its students due to "neglect". This will mark the end of Intern Gretel's message.

... ... ... transmission window closed.

*unearthly music plays*
Hear it calling,
Calling,
Out to you.


The leaves are falling,
Falling,
Straight on through.


Reality is shifting,
Shifting.

Veils are lifting,
lifting,

Time moves too
quickly
quickly
realizing
realizing
escaping
escaping
running
running
tripping
falling
crying
calling
calling
calling out to you.
*music stops, followed by heavy static*

*loud thumping noises* Well, I finally captured all the-- *vulgar swearing* --Hush down there, that's very inappropriate! -- Ahem, I finally captured all the spirits that were released on me during Halloween. Only twelve this time, I was surprised. The one year that my little brother and I spent Halloween at our half-godmother-aunt's house a total of thirty-seven haunts appeared on the doorstep. We almost ran out of holy water and blunt objects that night. Unfortunately, three of the ghosts were only trick-or-treaters dressed up as ghosts. Their mothers were rather startled when we chanted loudly and shot water soakers at the children. But after that squirrel got turned inside-out, we weren't taking any chances. *muffled laughter and approving applause* Yeesh, you guys are gruesome. Who even applauds for something like that?

Anyways, I've got an ebony Pandora chest in my room filled with rather unpleasant and malevolent spirits. Most of them faded back to the nether after their capture, but these four claim to have sworn vengeance on me because of... what was it again sir? *muffled ranting* Ah-ha, yes, my great-great-great-great grandfather's childless step-sister who was a gypsy and conned these fine gentlemen out of lots of money. *muffled wailing* Oh, and also broke their hearts. Grandfather believes she was a three quarters siren. She had a lovely singing voice. *muffled wailing gets louder* BACK ON TOPIC *bangs on chest to silence ghosts* if anybody would be so kind as to advise me on how to dispose of these rather violent souls, I'd appreciate it. Or if you want them to experiment on, be my guest. They won't diffuse into oblivion until SOMEBODY attacks or intimidates them, and I just don't have the heart to do it.

Come visit me on the ceiling of the Self-Aware Library if you can help me out.

To the girls who were making fun of my apparel:

I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from such mockery, especially when in such close proximity to sound wave modification classrooms. I have very specific reasons for dressing likes this which outway the fact that teal plaid looks "ratchet" and that the headdress looks "ridiculous". If you continue this cruelty, I will not hesitate to send the creature I'm eluding via this camouflage after YOUR SCENT.

Regards,

Gretel

It's almost Halloween. Okay, not ALMOST almost, but almost to almost. Now, I love candy as much as the next girl (in fact I'm named after one of the most famous candy lovers ever) but Halloween means a lot of work around here. In a normal neighborhood, the sudden power influx for the demonic forces go relatively unnoticed, no big deal. A couple of extra crows appear, several children trip everyday, anybody who stands under the third lamppost feels a cold draft and hears the last words of long dead Betty Schuener... just normal autumn coincidences. But we've got a large amount of psychic energy here. And that means weaking barriers between other worlds. And that means we have a lot of hauntings that spring up.

I wrote to my second cousin Marcia and she said I could borrow some of her anti-evil incantations. She even gave me a silver mirror to toss at any unholy spirits that didlike me specifically. Thank goodness. Ghosts tend to dislike me for some reason. They always insist I'm someone or capable of something, and when they realize they're wrong they get all distraught and start wailing. Which is distressing on it's own, but they also enter my dreams and bother me there. And my day dreams. And my mirrors. And my windows. And my phone's s screen. And once or twice my favorite eraser. Now it's all ectoplasm-y, but it can erase nearly all things. Even pen and titantium!

Maybe we can survive this Eve of Evil... but until then, I urge my fellow students to properly seal away their valubles and secure their residences. And if you have red hair, beware. I forsee leprechaun mischief targeting the many psyhigh gingers.,

I wrote another song. I haven't in a long while. Here it is.

Keep In Mind:

You can get blood transfusions,
You can have plastic surgery,
You can attack skin with tattooing,
But you can't change everything.

You can lose some weight,
You can wear heels to gain some height,
You can become golden tan or burned,
But you can't change everything.

You can change your irises,
You can add color to your braces,
You can apply sparkly makeup,
But you can't change everything.

So be careful where you tread,
Be careful what you touch.
To preserve who you are,
Three things must never change.

Keep them close and keep them clean:
Your soul
Your heart
Your DNA.

Keep them or lose yourself:
Your soul
Your heart
Your DNA.

Gosh I'm glad that's over. It took me forever to find the right chapter. But I found it, and with a few sly words and loopholes I was able to share the photos with Psy Corp and @Pearline. And have a doughnut. It was delicious.

Anyways, as long as I leave the photos unexplained on a random table in Psyhigh, I'm allowed to share this information. This way, if the authorities are supposed to know they'll find the photos somehow. But if they aren't, I'm sure some freshman will swipe them to decorate their locker or something. Time itself will chose which path we're taking, and ergo halt any possible paradoxes that could spawn from this situation. I just wish I could've been less... frustrating. But as my great great great grandpappy always says: "Fortune Tellers don't git a lot of those there friend types. Eventually either they want sumthang from your visions, or ya slip up and tell em that they gon die cause of canned corn." Grandpappy is wise beyond his years.

I still can't help but feel like I messed up royally this time. I need to talk to another oracle about these future visions. Maybe @Alexander would humor me, he seems nice enough. I'd ask my professor, but she's holed up in the kitchens with the other teachers enjoying sushi. And from Dean Hammer's last announcement, negotiations imply that most of them won't be back until next week. I don't blame them though. Sushi is amazing. Some even claim that wasabi and rice is the recipe to unlock recessive psychic powers. Too bad I don't like spicy things.

Oh, before I forget, there's two things I can say about the photos. Only look at them one at a time, and cameras can catch more than our physical vessals. Now if you will excuse me, I need to remove myself from the investigation before I cause a big issue for next Tuesday.

I'm caught in a moral dilemma. Did I spell that right? Dilemma? Dilehmma? Delemma? Deademma? Ah... I'm even paranoid about my spelling!

Oh... I really should tell them... but I don't want to get involved. I already messed things up by mentioning the third window. There wasn't supposed to be a bite. It was only going to be a quick interruption by the stinky Stink Ape, a really awkward moment as we watched it do the Chicken Dance, and a couple girls' dresses getting ruined when it knocked over a bowl of Nutrient Solution. But now it's going to-- AH, but I shouldn't speak of it! I'm so sorry. This is the first time my prophetic visions have made things worse. Usually... usually either they help us or everybody ignores me. Like the grape jelly slip-in-slide incident of 2003 (Tommy could never look at owls the same way again). I'm so paranoid now that anything I say will ruin someone else's life--

AH! FORGET I SAID THAT! Nobody's life is in danger, just relax! Or, if you weren't relaxing before I said that, continue panicking! Just... I... *sigh* I just wanted to say that I have a few photos of the dance. I was hanging out on the ceiling, dancing with a couple kids who got caught in a rouge anti-gravity spell, and I took some photos of the dance for prosperity. If @Pearline or the Psy Corps want to look at them, fine. But... it's kind of freaky. Once the film developed... I... you could see... but if I tell you that might reveal the future... GAH. Does anybody know who checked out the only copy of The Ethic Code of Seers and Time Travels from Self-Aware Library? I really need it right now.