Luneth Uchiha

The hardest part is now working on the sequel. I wrote book 1 in 2011, rewrote it in 2014. I started book 2 in 2011, but ceased work in 2012 with school. I have 5 year old notes to look through and memorize again

My book, Ceatera was written while I was in high school. I rewrote it and then sat on it for three years. Now it's being published by Amazon.
 
See guys? I did amount to something. Years of shitposting on this forum did do something productive.

Looking at the teaser pic a bit more. The girl kinda looks like the love child of Makoto and Kyoko. Dunno though. We should be getting more info soon since the anime starts up in july.

 
also to edit; they are apparently also remaking the trials of Dangan Ronpa 1 for Playstation VR: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rvl95iitb1g
Subsubnote: After seeing the trainwreck of the funimation dub, I'm kinda scared what they'll do to Dangan Ronpa 3. 

 
Dangan Ronpa 3 got a trailer. 
from 3:03: the first 3 minutes are summaries of the first two games. This is really rough, I'm going to type as I listen.
The Future Foundation, formed of former Hope's Peak Academy students desiring to reclaim the former world.
Hope kills hope.
In 2016, the curtain opens on a new death game. The final chapter of the Hope's Peak Academy series, Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak Academy: Future, broadcast starting in July
4:00
Wait, you're saying we forgot something? We haven't talked about the most important thing? Why did these students fall to despair?
This is the other Danganronpa 3 -- the story that leads to The Worst Event in Human History. Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak Academy: Despair -- production confirmed!
Wait, who am I? I used to be the ultimate housekeeper!
 

DR3 seems to be another killing game, and this is the cast they revealed. Now to think who's going to be prey and who will be predators.

 
Dangan Ronpa 3 got a trailer. 
from 3:03: the first 3 minutes are summaries of the first two games. This is really rough, I'm going to type as I listen.
The Future Foundation, formed of former Hope's Peak Academy students desiring to reclaim the former world.
Hope kills hope.
In 2016, the curtain opens on a new death game. The final chapter of the Hope's Peak Academy series, Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak Academy: Future, broadcast starting in July
4:00
Wait, you're saying we forgot something? We haven't talked about the most important thing? Why did these students fall to despair?
This is the other Danganronpa 3 -- the story that leads to The Worst Event in Human History. Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak Academy: Despair -- production confirmed!
Wait, who am I? I used to be the ultimate housekeeper!
 

DR3 seems to be another killing game, and this is the cast they revealed. Now to think who's going to be prey and who will be predators.

Ever since I was a little kid I knew there was something different about me. I always seemed to perceive the world in a very different and unusual way compared to others. In preschool while other kids were playing tag, playing on the swings, or slide; I would climb underneath a bush and think about what would happen if there weren't enough boys to marry girls or vice versa.
In elementary school it became very hard. Other kids were very aware that I was different and often teased me for it and shunned me. For the first few years I would just take it in and sulk. After a time I started to get angry. Why was I picked on? Why was I different? I got so angry and would lose my temper on a dime. My parents didn't know how to deal with me. My dad's first instinct was to buy me a Nintendo 64 to keep me preoccupied. Video games helped a great deal. In video games I could do whatever and escape to a world of imagination. No one tormented me. 
When I was in fourth grade my parents decided to have me tested. I was diagnosed with high functioning autism. I hated that I was different, and felt very alone.
In middle school, it got somewhat better. I wouldn't get angry as easily, but I still had a lot of frustration at the world. People continued to pick on me until I hit my growth spurt and hit 6'5. After that only the adamant ones continued to tease me. It was around this point in time I realized that over the course of years my social skills and capabilities were diminished. I am a very shy person by nature and have a very hard time speaking my mind. I slowly started to realize I didn't really fit in with any social groups and ended up taking up the internet as a way to pass the time. On the internet there were lots of people talking about things I knew. Video games, anime.
High School. Sophomore year was a massive changing point for me. There was an incident halfway through the year that snapped me out of being highly autistic and realize the impact I have on people. I started to think about the people that I have hurt or been a burden on over the years and it destroyed me. To make that even harder; early in the year I knew someone that ended up comitting suicide. Deep down I wished that I would have been the one to do so instead of him. 
I started to view myself as human garbage. I began to judge myself much harsher than any person should judge anything. If I did something I felt harmed another person in any way, even if it just inconvienenced them I would beat myself up physically. 
I had a very hard time dealing with people. I am so shy and introverted that if I'm not used to someone, it's very hard to talk to them. As a result I only managed to make two real friends in highg school. A lot of the time though, they had their own lives and given my scope of not wanting to be a burden on others I just started to deal with my problems on my own. There was a few times I would try to strangle myself because I was so angry at how I had become.
After graduation I was scared and frustrated. I didn't know what to do in life. I have some form of Attention Deficite Disorder and have a very hard time with school. No matter where I applied, I couldn't get a job. Eventually I found employment at a subway and was there until I would go on a mission. The January after I graduated I was in a horrible car accident that totaled my car. While I physically not recieved any damage at all, something triggered. I lost control of my senses, the world felt like it was all closing in on me, and I started to hyperventilate and go into a great panic. I would shake violently, and couldn't even hear anyone's voice. This was my first severe panic attack. 
The panic attacks stopped after this one, so I just disregarded it as an extreme situation. Shortly after I was explained that because of my situation, I wasn't going to be allowed to have a normal LDS mission. I was going to be sent out to West Jordan, and would only serve 12 weeks overall.
My mission was an interesting experience. Deep down I was very frustrated that I had to go. I always thought two years was such a long time and it scared me. I felt very controlled and felt like I had no freedom at all during my mission. It was very hard for me to talk to people because of my social anxiety. The things I would normally do to calm myself I was unable to do. The stress piled on and on. One day something snapped and while on splits, my body forced another panic attack like it had with the car accident. We wrote it off and just an episode, but they kept coming. It got to a point I would have 4 or 5 severe panic attacks a day that could last anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 hours. After debate I was sent home after six weeks.
I fell into a great depression after my mission. I felt like a failure, and felt like I didn't really have much of a future at all beyond a mission to boot. I had no talents, and school was overwhelming to me. When I first got home I locked myself in my room for a few days and wouldn't leave.I even had people from both my homeward and my ysa ward tell me that I was a failure and wasn't worth anything. I managed to get myself onto the track of thought that my life had no meaning and that I was just a burden on my friends and family. Shortly after, I started to get so upset at myself I didn'tk now how to handle life. I broke a glass in a fit of rage and sliced up my arms. As the blood ran down my arms, it reminded me that I was alive and had a soul. The stress from my mission, as well as physical damage from the panic attacks gave me another gift. I became actually bipolar. In the down end of the spectrum it was often that I would find everything wrong with me and do great harm to myself. I still have several large scars on my arms, legs, and face from this.
This would eventually lead to March of this year. At the time, I was at the pinacle of stress. Work was eating me alive in stress from in office politics, some of my best friends had started to let me know how much of a freak I am and how they didn't want anything to do with me, and to top it all off I could see how much stress my parents were under at the time iwth my dad's health and I couldn't help but feel like a great burden. One night the pain got to a point that I didn't know what to do. I just wanted the pain to go away. I started originally by getting some max strength nyquil and just chugged until I thought I would go numb. I drank the entire bottle, but still felt empty. As a result I grabbed some motrin, and took the equivelent of 4000 mg. Yes, this was an attempt at suicide by overdose. 
I was hospitalized for a day as they stablized my condition, and then spent a week in a psychiatric ward. The psychiatric ward gave me a lot of time to think. It was either think, sleep, or be bored out of my skull. I would sleep about 17 hours a day, and then the rest of it I would just think about all the horrible things I had done. 
I dropped off the face of the earth to a degree after that. I stopped going to church altogether to avoid people. I would only go to work, and then go home and play video games. I didn't want anything more to do with the world. I reached the conclusion that the more hope you have, the more despair you will feel when that hope is shattered.
Recently I had to start going back into the world, forcing myself to even go to church because if I don't take action a friend will continue with a choice that can possibly ruin his life. Deep down I struggle though. I only really talk to two people outside of my family, and both of them will be going back to college soon. When I think about making friends, it honestly scares me and overwhelmes me. I try to make friends I can talk to, but often time I feel like I'm annoying them or that they don't care overall. 

Ever since I was a little kid I knew there was something different about me. I always seemed to perceive the world in a very different and unusual way compared to others. In preschool while other kids were playing tag, playing on the swings, or slide; I would climb underneath a bush and think about what would happen if there weren't enough boys to marry girls or vice versa.
In elementary school it became very hard. Other kids were very aware that I was different and often teased me for it and shunned me. For the first few years I would just take it in and sulk. After a time I started to get angry. Why was I picked on? Why was I different? I got so angry and would lose my temper on a dime. My parents didn't know how to deal with me. My dad's first instinct was to buy me a Nintendo 64 to keep me preoccupied. Video games helped a great deal. In video games I could do whatever and escape to a world of imagination. No one tormented me. 
When I was in fourth grade my parents decided to have me tested. I was diagnosed with high functioning autism. I hated that I was different, and felt very alone.
In middle school, it got somewhat better. I wouldn't get angry as easily, but I still had a lot of frustration at the world. People continued to pick on me until I hit my growth spurt and hit 6'5. After that only the adamant ones continued to tease me. It was around this point in time I realized that over the course of years my social skills and capabilities were diminished. I am a very shy person by nature and have a very hard time speaking my mind. I slowly started to realize I didn't really fit in with any social groups and ended up taking up the internet as a way to pass the time. On the internet there were lots of people talking about things I knew. Video games, anime.
High School. Sophomore year was a massive changing point for me. There was an incident halfway through the year that snapped me out of being highly autistic and realize the impact I have on people. I started to think about the people that I have hurt or been a burden on over the years and it destroyed me. To make that even harder; early in the year I knew someone that ended up comitting suicide. Deep down I wished that I would have been the one to do so instead of him. 
I started to view myself as human garbage. I began to judge myself much harsher than any person should judge anything. If I did something I felt harmed another person in any way, even if it just inconvienenced them I would beat myself up physically. 
I had a very hard time dealing with people. I am so shy and introverted that if I'm not used to someone, it's very hard to talk to them. As a result I only managed to make two real friends in highg school. A lot of the time though, they had their own lives and given my scope of not wanting to be a burden on others I just started to deal with my problems on my own. There was a few times I would try to strangle myself because I was so angry at how I had become.
After graduation I was scared and frustrated. I didn't know what to do in life. I have some form of Attention Deficite Disorder and have a very hard time with school. No matter where I applied, I couldn't get a job. Eventually I found employment at a subway and was there until I would go on a mission. The January after I graduated I was in a horrible car accident that totaled my car. While I physically not recieved any damage at all, something triggered. I lost control of my senses, the world felt like it was all closing in on me, and I started to hyperventilate and go into a great panic. I would shake violently, and couldn't even hear anyone's voice. This was my first severe panic attack. 
The panic attacks stopped after this one, so I just disregarded it as an extreme situation. Shortly after I was explained that because of my situation, I wasn't going to be allowed to have a normal LDS mission. I was going to be sent out to West Jordan, and would only serve 12 weeks overall.
My mission was an interesting experience. Deep down I was very frustrated that I had to go. I always thought two years was such a long time and it scared me. I felt very controlled and felt like I had no freedom at all during my mission. It was very hard for me to talk to people because of my social anxiety. The things I would normally do to calm myself I was unable to do. The stress piled on and on. One day something snapped and while on splits, my body forced another panic attack like it had with the car accident. We wrote it off and just an episode, but they kept coming. It got to a point I would have 4 or 5 severe panic attacks a day that could last anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 hours. After debate I was sent home after six weeks.
I fell into a great depression after my mission. I felt like a failure, and felt like I didn't really have much of a future at all beyond a mission to boot. I had no talents, and school was overwhelming to me. When I first got home I locked myself in my room for a few days and wouldn't leave.I even had people from both my homeward and my ysa ward tell me that I was a failure and wasn't worth anything. I managed to get myself onto the track of thought that my life had no meaning and that I was just a burden on my friends and family. Shortly after, I started to get so upset at myself I didn'tk now how to handle life. I broke a glass in a fit of rage and sliced up my arms. As the blood ran down my arms, it reminded me that I was alive and had a soul. The stress from my mission, as well as physical damage from the panic attacks gave me another gift. I became actually bipolar. In the down end of the spectrum it was often that I would find everything wrong with me and do great harm to myself. I still have several large scars on my arms, legs, and face from this.
This would eventually lead to March of this year. At the time, I was at the pinacle of stress. Work was eating me alive in stress from in office politics, some of my best friends had started to let me know how much of a freak I am and how they didn't want anything to do with me, and to top it all off I could see how much stress my parents were under at the time iwth my dad's health and I couldn't help but feel like a great burden. One night the pain got to a point that I didn't know what to do. I just wanted the pain to go away. I started originally by getting some max strength nyquil and just chugged until I thought I would go numb. I drank the entire bottle, but still felt empty. As a result I grabbed some motrin, and took the equivelent of 4000 mg. Yes, this was an attempt at suicide by overdose. 
I was hospitalized for a day as they stablized my condition, and then spent a week in a psychiatric ward. The psychiatric ward gave me a lot of time to think. It was either think, sleep, or be bored out of my skull. I would sleep about 17 hours a day, and then the rest of it I would just think about all the horrible things I had done. 
I dropped off the face of the earth to a degree after that. I stopped going to church altogether to avoid people. I would only go to work, and then go home and play video games. I didn't want anything more to do with the world. I reached the conclusion that the more hope you have, the more despair you will feel when that hope is shattered.
Recently I had to start going back into the world, forcing myself to even go to church because if I don't take action a friend will continue with a choice that can possibly ruin his life. Deep down I struggle though. I only really talk to two people outside of my family, and both of them will be going back to college soon. When I think about making friends, it honestly scares me and overwhelmes me. I try to make friends I can talk to, but often time I feel like I'm annoying them or that they don't care overall. 

Ever since I was a little kid I knew there was something different about me. I always seemed to perceive the world in a very different and unusual way compared to others. In preschool while other kids were playing tag, playing on the swings, or slide; I would climb underneath a bush and think about what would happen if there weren't enough boys to marry girls or vice versa.
In elementary school it became very hard. Other kids were very aware that I was different and often teased me for it and shunned me. For the first few years I would just take it in and sulk. After a time I started to get angry. Why was I picked on? Why was I different? I got so angry and would lose my temper on a dime. My parents didn't know how to deal with me. My dad's first instinct was to buy me a Nintendo 64 to keep me preoccupied. Video games helped a great deal. In video games I could do whatever and escape to a world of imagination. No one tormented me. 
When I was in fourth grade my parents decided to have me tested. I was diagnosed with high functioning autism. I hated that I was different, and felt very alone.
In middle school, it got somewhat better. I wouldn't get angry as easily, but I still had a lot of frustration at the world. People continued to pick on me until I hit my growth spurt and hit 6'5. After that only the adamant ones continued to tease me. It was around this point in time I realized that over the course of years my social skills and capabilities were diminished. I am a very shy person by nature and have a very hard time speaking my mind. I slowly started to realize I didn't really fit in with any social groups and ended up taking up the internet as a way to pass the time. On the internet there were lots of people talking about things I knew. Video games, anime.
High School. Sophomore year was a massive changing point for me. There was an incident halfway through the year that snapped me out of being highly autistic and realize the impact I have on people. I started to think about the people that I have hurt or been a burden on over the years and it destroyed me. To make that even harder; early in the year I knew someone that ended up comitting suicide. Deep down I wished that I would have been the one to do so instead of him. 
I started to view myself as human garbage. I began to judge myself much harsher than any person should judge anything. If I did something I felt harmed another person in any way, even if it just inconvienenced them I would beat myself up physically. 
I had a very hard time dealing with people. I am so shy and introverted that if I'm not used to someone, it's very hard to talk to them. As a result I only managed to make two real friends in highg school. A lot of the time though, they had their own lives and given my scope of not wanting to be a burden on others I just started to deal with my problems on my own. There was a few times I would try to strangle myself because I was so angry at how I had become.
After graduation I was scared and frustrated. I didn't know what to do in life. I have some form of Attention Deficite Disorder and have a very hard time with school. No matter where I applied, I couldn't get a job. Eventually I found employment at a subway and was there until I would go on a mission. The January after I graduated I was in a horrible car accident that totaled my car. While I physically not recieved any damage at all, something triggered. I lost control of my senses, the world felt like it was all closing in on me, and I started to hyperventilate and go into a great panic. I would shake violently, and couldn't even hear anyone's voice. This was my first severe panic attack. 
The panic attacks stopped after this one, so I just disregarded it as an extreme situation. Shortly after I was explained that because of my situation, I wasn't going to be allowed to have a normal LDS mission. I was going to be sent out to West Jordan, and would only serve 12 weeks overall.
My mission was an interesting experience. Deep down I was very frustrated that I had to go. I always thought two years was such a long time and it scared me. I felt very controlled and felt like I had no freedom at all during my mission. It was very hard for me to talk to people because of my social anxiety. The things I would normally do to calm myself I was unable to do. The stress piled on and on. One day something snapped and while on splits, my body forced another panic attack like it had with the car accident. We wrote it off and just an episode, but they kept coming. It got to a point I would have 4 or 5 severe panic attacks a day that could last anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 hours. After debate I was sent home after six weeks.
I fell into a great depression after my mission. I felt like a failure, and felt like I didn't really have much of a future at all beyond a mission to boot. I had no talents, and school was overwhelming to me. When I first got home I locked myself in my room for a few days and wouldn't leave.I even had people from both my homeward and my ysa ward tell me that I was a failure and wasn't worth anything. I managed to get myself onto the track of thought that my life had no meaning and that I was just a burden on my friends and family. Shortly after, I started to get so upset at myself I didn'tk now how to handle life. I broke a glass in a fit of rage and sliced up my arms. As the blood ran down my arms, it reminded me that I was alive and had a soul. The stress from my mission, as well as physical damage from the panic attacks gave me another gift. I became actually bipolar. In the down end of the spectrum it was often that I would find everything wrong with me and do great harm to myself. I still have several large scars on my arms, legs, and face from this.
This would eventually lead to March of this year. At the time, I was at the pinacle of stress. Work was eating me alive in stress from in office politics, some of my best friends had started to let me know how much of a freak I am and how they didn't want anything to do with me, and to top it all off I could see how much stress my parents were under at the time iwth my dad's health and I couldn't help but feel like a great burden. One night the pain got to a point that I didn't know what to do. I just wanted the pain to go away. I started originally by getting some max strength nyquil and just chugged until I thought I would go numb. I drank the entire bottle, but still felt empty. As a result I grabbed some motrin, and took the equivelent of 4000 mg. Yes, this was an attempt at suicide by overdose. 
I was hospitalized for a day as they stablized my condition, and then spent a week in a psychiatric ward. The psychiatric ward gave me a lot of time to think. It was either think, sleep, or be bored out of my skull. I would sleep about 17 hours a day, and then the rest of it I would just think about all the horrible things I had done. 
I dropped off the face of the earth to a degree after that. I stopped going to church altogether to avoid people. I would only go to work, and then go home and play video games. I didn't want anything more to do with the world. I reached the conclusion that the more hope you have, the more despair you will feel when that hope is shattered.
Recently I had to start going back into the world, forcing myself to even go to church because if I don't take action a friend will continue with a choice that can possibly ruin his life. Deep down I struggle though. I only really talk to two people outside of my family, and both of them will be going back to college soon. When I think about making friends, it honestly scares me and overwhelmes me. I try to make friends I can talk to, but often time I feel like I'm annoying them or that they don't care overall. 

Ever since I was a little kid I knew there was something different about me. I always seemed to perceive the world in a very different and unusual way compared to others. In preschool while other kids were playing tag, playing on the swings, or slide; I would climb underneath a bush and think about what would happen if there weren't enough boys to marry girls or vice versa.
In elementary school it became very hard. Other kids were very aware that I was different and often teased me for it and shunned me. For the first few years I would just take it in and sulk. After a time I started to get angry. Why was I picked on? Why was I different? I got so angry and would lose my temper on a dime. My parents didn't know how to deal with me. My dad's first instinct was to buy me a Nintendo 64 to keep me preoccupied. Video games helped a great deal. In video games I could do whatever and escape to a world of imagination. No one tormented me. 
When I was in fourth grade my parents decided to have me tested. I was diagnosed with high functioning autism. I hated that I was different, and felt very alone.
In middle school, it got somewhat better. I wouldn't get angry as easily, but I still had a lot of frustration at the world. People continued to pick on me until I hit my growth spurt and hit 6'5. After that only the adamant ones continued to tease me. It was around this point in time I realized that over the course of years my social skills and capabilities were diminished. I am a very shy person by nature and have a very hard time speaking my mind. I slowly started to realize I didn't really fit in with any social groups and ended up taking up the internet as a way to pass the time. On the internet there were lots of people talking about things I knew. Video games, anime.
High School. Sophomore year was a massive changing point for me. There was an incident halfway through the year that snapped me out of being highly autistic and realize the impact I have on people. I started to think about the people that I have hurt or been a burden on over the years and it destroyed me. To make that even harder; early in the year I knew someone that ended up comitting suicide. Deep down I wished that I would have been the one to do so instead of him. 
I started to view myself as human garbage. I began to judge myself much harsher than any person should judge anything. If I did something I felt harmed another person in any way, even if it just inconvienenced them I would beat myself up physically. 
I had a very hard time dealing with people. I am so shy and introverted that if I'm not used to someone, it's very hard to talk to them. As a result I only managed to make two real friends in highg school. A lot of the time though, they had their own lives and given my scope of not wanting to be a burden on others I just started to deal with my problems on my own. There was a few times I would try to strangle myself because I was so angry at how I had become.
After graduation I was scared and frustrated. I didn't know what to do in life. I have some form of Attention Deficite Disorder and have a very hard time with school. No matter where I applied, I couldn't get a job. Eventually I found employment at a subway and was there until I would go on a mission. The January after I graduated I was in a horrible car accident that totaled my car. While I physically not recieved any damage at all, something triggered. I lost control of my senses, the world felt like it was all closing in on me, and I started to hyperventilate and go into a great panic. I would shake violently, and couldn't even hear anyone's voice. This was my first severe panic attack. 
The panic attacks stopped after this one, so I just disregarded it as an extreme situation. Shortly after I was explained that because of my situation, I wasn't going to be allowed to have a normal LDS mission. I was going to be sent out to West Jordan, and would only serve 12 weeks overall.
My mission was an interesting experience. Deep down I was very frustrated that I had to go. I always thought two years was such a long time and it scared me. I felt very controlled and felt like I had no freedom at all during my mission. It was very hard for me to talk to people because of my social anxiety. The things I would normally do to calm myself I was unable to do. The stress piled on and on. One day something snapped and while on splits, my body forced another panic attack like it had with the car accident. We wrote it off and just an episode, but they kept coming. It got to a point I would have 4 or 5 severe panic attacks a day that could last anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 hours. After debate I was sent home after six weeks.
I fell into a great depression after my mission. I felt like a failure, and felt like I didn't really have much of a future at all beyond a mission to boot. I had no talents, and school was overwhelming to me. When I first got home I locked myself in my room for a few days and wouldn't leave.I even had people from both my homeward and my ysa ward tell me that I was a failure and wasn't worth anything. I managed to get myself onto the track of thought that my life had no meaning and that I was just a burden on my friends and family. Shortly after, I started to get so upset at myself I didn'tk now how to handle life. I broke a glass in a fit of rage and sliced up my arms. As the blood ran down my arms, it reminded me that I was alive and had a soul. The stress from my mission, as well as physical damage from the panic attacks gave me another gift. I became actually bipolar. In the down end of the spectrum it was often that I would find everything wrong with me and do great harm to myself. I still have several large scars on my arms, legs, and face from this.
This would eventually lead to March of this year. At the time, I was at the pinacle of stress. Work was eating me alive in stress from in office politics, some of my best friends had started to let me know how much of a freak I am and how they didn't want anything to do with me, and to top it all off I could see how much stress my parents were under at the time iwth my dad's health and I couldn't help but feel like a great burden. One night the pain got to a point that I didn't know what to do. I just wanted the pain to go away. I started originally by getting some max strength nyquil and just chugged until I thought I would go numb. I drank the entire bottle, but still felt empty. As a result I grabbed some motrin, and took the equivelent of 4000 mg. Yes, this was an attempt at suicide by overdose. 
I was hospitalized for a day as they stablized my condition, and then spent a week in a psychiatric ward. The psychiatric ward gave me a lot of time to think. It was either think, sleep, or be bored out of my skull. I would sleep about 17 hours a day, and then the rest of it I would just think about all the horrible things I had done. 
I dropped off the face of the earth to a degree after that. I stopped going to church altogether to avoid people. I would only go to work, and then go home and play video games. I didn't want anything more to do with the world. I reached the conclusion that the more hope you have, the more despair you will feel when that hope is shattered.
Recently I had to start going back into the world, forcing myself to even go to church because if I don't take action a friend will continue with a choice that can possibly ruin his life. Deep down I struggle though. I only really talk to two people outside of my family, and both of them will be going back to college soon. When I think about making friends, it honestly scares me and overwhelmes me. I try to make friends I can talk to, but often time I feel like I'm annoying them or that they don't care overall. 

 
A more recent picture of me. I'm actually a contortionist btw. 

 
A more recent picture of me. I'm actually a contortionist btw. 

 
A more recent picture of me. I'm actually a contortionist btw. 

I still have my hobby of collecting distribution carts. I think once I have some time I will do a thing for Celebi for you guys.

 
So, in response to this I will say I like Dangan Ronpa 1 more than 2, but probably not for the same reasons. The atmosphere and overall tone of Dangan Ronpa 1 was much more dark and memorable to me than DR2. 2 while messed up in many aspects didn't feel as ominous. In DR1 you were trapped in a dark atmospheric school, and usually everything that was done was much more harsh and in the name of survival. 

 
pics from my little set up. Some of these are outdated. I now store all my amiibo on the black bookcase, and the framed OOT is to the right of the console boxes. 
 
 

so more on this guy. I found this resealed, Mint condition collector's edition of OOT for $50 at a local shop. Everything about it was mint, cart, box, manual, inserts. I took it, put it in the plastic case you see a lot of people use, and then framed it in a shadow box. I don't generally touch it, open it, look at it, or even stare at its direction lest it get damaged. 

 
pics from my little set up. Some of these are outdated. I now store all my amiibo on the black bookcase, and the framed OOT is to the right of the console boxes. 
 
 

so more on this guy. I found this resealed, Mint condition collector's edition of OOT for $50 at a local shop. Everything about it was mint, cart, box, manual, inserts. I took it, put it in the plastic case you see a lot of people use, and then framed it in a shadow box. I don't generally touch it, open it, look at it, or even stare at its direction lest it get damaged. 

 
pics from my little set up. Some of these are outdated. I now store all my amiibo on the black bookcase, and the framed OOT is to the right of the console boxes. 
 
 

so more on this guy. I found this resealed, Mint condition collector's edition of OOT for $50 at a local shop. Everything about it was mint, cart, box, manual, inserts. I took it, put it in the plastic case you see a lot of people use, and then framed it in a shadow box. I don't generally touch it, open it, look at it, or even stare at its direction lest it get damaged. 

Sorry, life was busy yesterday. My n3DS code is 3282-5066-2561
 
I don't think you hvae this 3DS. I didn't do a system transfer and this n3ds is about two weeks old. Need yours. I'm technically HR3, but technically not. We have the same person host constantly since his internet is the best and I haven't done anything on my own guild yet. We did beat Brachydios. God have mercy.

 
So, in response to this I will say I like Dangan Ronpa 1 more than 2, but probably not for the same reasons. The atmosphere and overall tone of Dangan Ronpa 1 was much more dark and memorable to me than DR2. 2 while messed up in many aspects didn't feel as ominous. In DR1 you were trapped in a dark atmospheric school, and usually everything that was done was much more harsh and in the name of survival. 

Started playing this. So far it's just a screen that says Distribution pending and Distributing Celebi. GOTY right there folks.
 
Also playing Captain Toad. I can't get too far without thinking about vinesauce's mario tells luigi the truth bit.

ded topic? DED TOPIC? THIS CALLS FOR PICTURES FROM MY MISC. IMAGE FOLDER
 

Got this in the mail today. It's so beautiful I could cry tears of joy. 
 
have spent about 3 hours in character customizer. Send help.

ded topic? DED TOPIC? THIS CALLS FOR PICTURES FROM MY MISC. IMAGE FOLDER
 

ded topic? DED TOPIC? THIS CALLS FOR PICTURES FROM MY MISC. IMAGE FOLDER
 

I got home from work today and started checking things like email, skype, facebook and etc when I get on twitter. I have a notification and learn that I am in the news:
 
http://saltlakecity.suntimes.com/slc-sports/university-utah-utes/7/141/38914/byu-utah-holy-war-rivalry/
Look for the handle @SirClud. That's me
 
It's funny regardless.