User:Squidmanescape: Difference between revisions

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I don't have any credentials. I'm sixteen years old and I've made a few languages. I think this is more likely to continue as a site than the Conlang Wiki, and I have the futile, fleeting hope that people talk more here.
I don't have any credentials. I'm seventeen years old and I've made at most two languages that I'd like to continue. I think this is more likely to continue as a site than the Conlang Wiki, and I have the futile, fleeting hope that people talk more here.


I like making exolangs because they make me feel special. I've basically made one exolang, and I've worked on it for about a year. It's nowhere near complete, but I think the phonology and grammar are interesting, though the phonotactics falls into the "anything goes anywhere" branch and the vocabulary is only a little alien compared to the grammar. Does that count as "relevant credentials"?
I like making exolangs because they make me feel special. I've basically made one exolang, and I've worked on it for about a year. It's nowhere near complete, but I think the phonology and grammar are interesting, though the phonotactics falls into the "anything goes anywhere" branch and the vocabulary is only a little alien compared to the grammar. Does that count as "relevant credentials"?
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Black Hand Soap
Black Hand Soap


The house was nothing special. The people who had sold it to him had neglected to mention just how many things didn't work in it. None of the doors locked, it sounded like the floorboards were going to snap at any second, some of the showers refused to dole out hot water, and all of the toilets had some specific problem. The only thing that appeared really pristine in the house was one porcelain bottle of hand soap. It was really fancy, and at first, Arashi /'a.rə.ʅi/ thought that they had done at least one thing right.
The house was nothing special. The people who had sold it had neglected to mention just how many things didn't work in it. None of the doors locked, it sounded like the floorboards were going to snap at any second, some of the showers refused to dole out hot water, and all of the toilets had some specific problem. The only thing that appeared really pristine in the house was one porcelain bottle of hand soap. It was really fancy, and at first, Arashi /'a.rə.ʃi/ thought, "At least they've done that one thing right."


At first.
At first.


One day, she used some hand soap and recoiled. It had turned black for some reason. Not the entire thing, but one specific part, like there was something stuck inside the hand soap. It disgusted her, so she went to another bathroom and used hand soap from a clean plastic bottle. After that incident, the bottle of hand soap went onto the side table of her bed, so that every time Arashi woke up, the hand soap would be looming above her head and she would have to think about whether she actually wanted it.
She used some hand soap from that bottle over the course of the month. She was getting almost attached to it when one day, she squeezed the top and found something black stuck in the hand soap. It disgusted her, and she went to another bathroom and used hand soap from a clean plastic bottle. After that incident, she waited for a week before she attempted to see what was inside it. She had an incense stick handy, so she took a lighter and lit the scented end. As she put it inside the soap, she expected that the inside would be white like the outside.


It took her a day. She didn't really care about the hand soap, and so because she couldn't see any reason why not, she attempted to see what was inside it. She had an incense stick handy, so she took a lighter and lit the scented end. As she put it inside the soap, the shadows jumped at her from inside. For some reason, the entire inside of the soap dispenser was painted black.
But for some reason, the entire inside of the soap dispenser was painted black.


She decided to call the people who had sold her the house and ask them why in the world they had bought a soap bottle with black paint inside it. Of course, the call didn't work, and so she gave up, because she felt like she didn't really need their approval to break it. She left them a voicemail telling .
She decided to call the people who had sold her the house and ask them why in the world they had bought a soap bottle with black paint inside it. Of course, the call didn't work, and so she gave up, because she felt like she didn't really need their approval to discard a bottle which she owned. She left them a voicemail telling them that she had thrown it away.

Revision as of 08:20, 11 September 2018

I don't have any credentials. I'm seventeen years old and I've made at most two languages that I'd like to continue. I think this is more likely to continue as a site than the Conlang Wiki, and I have the futile, fleeting hope that people talk more here.

I like making exolangs because they make me feel special. I've basically made one exolang, and I've worked on it for about a year. It's nowhere near complete, but I think the phonology and grammar are interesting, though the phonotactics falls into the "anything goes anywhere" branch and the vocabulary is only a little alien compared to the grammar. Does that count as "relevant credentials"?

I'm mad because this site wants me to put fifty words here. But I guess this was a worthwhile endeavor.

Black Hand Soap

The house was nothing special. The people who had sold it had neglected to mention just how many things didn't work in it. None of the doors locked, it sounded like the floorboards were going to snap at any second, some of the showers refused to dole out hot water, and all of the toilets had some specific problem. The only thing that appeared really pristine in the house was one porcelain bottle of hand soap. It was really fancy, and at first, Arashi /'a.rə.ʃi/ thought, "At least they've done that one thing right."

At first.

She used some hand soap from that bottle over the course of the month. She was getting almost attached to it when one day, she squeezed the top and found something black stuck in the hand soap. It disgusted her, and she went to another bathroom and used hand soap from a clean plastic bottle. After that incident, she waited for a week before she attempted to see what was inside it. She had an incense stick handy, so she took a lighter and lit the scented end. As she put it inside the soap, she expected that the inside would be white like the outside.

But for some reason, the entire inside of the soap dispenser was painted black.

She decided to call the people who had sold her the house and ask them why in the world they had bought a soap bottle with black paint inside it. Of course, the call didn't work, and so she gave up, because she felt like she didn't really need their approval to discard a bottle which she owned. She left them a voicemail telling them that she had thrown it away.