Skip to content

Commit

Permalink
[+] localize? en_ca page
Browse files Browse the repository at this point in the history
  • Loading branch information
LS-KR committed Dec 1, 2024
1 parent 79e85ed commit c775281
Showing 1 changed file with 72 additions and 1 deletion.
73 changes: 72 additions & 1 deletion people/saurikissa/page.en.md
Original file line number Diff line number Diff line change
Expand Up @@ -7,4 +7,75 @@ info:

## Story

- to be translated.
When Shuiyue stepped into the vast realms of the internet under her present name, it wasn’t met with trust or open arms.
She didn’t shy away from her youthful naivete, those impulsive days embedded in the controversial culture of "Esu."
Now, she carries her past as a tale of caution, offering wisdom to friends on shielding their private lives
from the stormy gales of online transphobia and cruelty.

Friends, however, were scarce.
The shadow of her history cast its long, uneasy doubts, keeping many at bay.
Her struggles with bipolar disorder unfolded as impulsive spending—an army of AirPods,
neatly aligned in a row, though she swore, “They’re all fake.”
And when regret would creep like a thief in the night, she’d lament,
“If only I hadn’t squandered so much… My surgery fund would be ready by now.”

Seeking solace and counsel, she posed a question in her circle of confidantes:
“What advice do you all have for me?”
And the candid replies poured in:
"Don’t flaunt wealth, don’t lose yourself to madness, don’t walk hand in hand with Esu’s lingering shadows."

“All right. Got it. I’ll start immediately.”
But who knows if her promises took root in action or whimsy?

"Not going mad—that’s the hard part,”
she’d confessed with a wicked grin. "I’ve got this itch to stir chaos now and then."
“Oh, you troublesome, endearing soul," we’d sigh.

“The madness, it seems, is in my marrow now—beyond cure or reach.”

But beneath the whimsical storms, she was still the girl in the sailor-style uniform,
adorned with a blue ribbon, peddling absurd humor with a pure, radiant laugh.
Her joys lingered in the glow of digital gadgets and their intricate riddles.
In her modest and cluttered abode, treasures lay scattered—cassette tapes, phones, hard drives, stickers—
each sorted with loving precision.
Some sealed neatly in boxes, labeled in her tidy scrawl.
I’d secretly wonder if she held a penchant for collecting duplicates—artifacts in mirroring rows.
To her, data security was religion. Backups, an unspoken vow.

She had a collection of glasses, fitted identically to her prescription,
as if each lens held its own intimate history, etched into her memory.

Yet she wasn’t confined to her small, crowded sanctuary. No, not Shuiyue.
When the weight of her mind lifted, she flitted from place to place,
sometimes journeying to friends in faraway Changchun.
Often, she’d parade photos of her cat with unmasked pride—though her family loathed the feline spirit.
As for her own unpopularity with certain souls, she met it not with ire, but disheartened sighs.

Love had knocked at her door time and time again,
but it was a pattern cruelly familiar—a yearning for love, a longing to be loved.
She eventually walked a path of playful rivalry and friendship with someone she cherished: Youhun.
Their bond deepened during a brief cohabitation in Dongguan.
Yet, shadows loomed—gender dysphoria, body image battles,
and the persistent echo of mental unrest haunted her.
The thought of turning out her flame—it lingered in silent corners of her mind.

When news of Youhun’s death reached Shuiyue, it struck her like a thunderclap.
"How could she go before me? I’m still here," she whispered, shaken.
And then came sorrow’s flood: "But as soon as she left, my balance wavered.
Me—soft-hearted, crumbling at anyone’s passing as though my soul, too, would shatter."
Her voice trembled with a selfless plea:
"Could I trade my life for hers? Bring her existence back, restore her sanity to its fullest bloom?”

Three days after Youhun’s departure, an acquaintance reached out to Shuiyue.
Sensing her fragility, they sought to comfort her, to find someone who might stand vigil through her long and dark hours.
But alas, no one arrived.

“Darling, please don’t follow her. If you show up chasing her into the afterlife, she’ll be *so* annoyed with you.”

"I’m joking!" Shuiyue laughed, her bravado laced with defiant fragility.
"I’m terrified of death—I’d never actually go through with it.
You think I’d die for her? Please, I haven’t even lived enough yet.
What nonsense is there to fear?"

In this final exchange with her friend Shu, her words danced with denial and trembling strength.
Less than a week later, her passing was confirmed by Aypasha, a dear friend from her brightest days.

0 comments on commit c775281

Please sign in to comment.