Cave Incognito

1. Stepping into the wrong classroom (-100 aura) ✅ 2. Going to the wrong car (-300 aura) ✅ 3. Mistaking someone for someone else (-1000 aura) ✅ 4. Using the word 'slay' in a convo (-100000000000000 aura) ✅ TOTAL AURA LOSS= -100000000000000000000000 aura points 😑😢😭 100 , 000 , 000 , 000 , 000 100 comma 000 comma 000 comma 000 comma 000 1 0 0 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0 100 , 000 , 000 , 000 , 000 100 comma 000 comma 000 comma 000 comma 000 1 0 0 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 0 100 , 000 , 000 , 000 , 000 100 comma 000 comma 000 comma 000 comma 000 1 0 0 , 0 0 0

 Okay beleive it or not.... I'll give it to you guys straight... I WAS IN TOKYO, SEOUL AND KUALA LUMPUR!!!!!!!!! LIKE OMG IT WAS LIKE MY DREAM CAME THE HECK TRUE! 😱😃😀😁 AND THE BEST PART? MY FIRST TRAIN WAS IN TOKYO!!!!!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

My Problem, Scientifically Analyzed Okay, I have a problem. Since the age of one year old, I've been, let's say, kind of absent-minded. Sometimes, okay? I tend to be a total klutz . 🙃 Let’s view this problem by solving it the science way. (Hey, I'm a ninth grader and a student of bio, so no judging. 🧬) 🔍 Step 1: Recognition of the Problem Am I a walking disaster on planet Earth? Observations? I can fill a book . 🧠 Observation 1: The Car That Wasn't Ours School was over and all the kids were crowding the exit gate — yelling, laughing, chatting, fighting, biting... whatever those kids do. I found Dad in the crowd and he handed me the car key. He told me he's gonna go and search for Matt and Mike while I go and unlock the car. Easy , right? I spotted the gray car and headed over to it, feeling — for some reason — awesome. Like I was radiating cool energy and stuff. 😎 In other words, I felt like I was the center of attention . I mean, even though I can be du...

 Let me just say it right out loud: friends are cool, sure. But family? Family is everything . Period. 💯 So the other day, I was outside with my siblings — you know, the whole squad. I'm the eldest (aka team captain 😎), then there’s my sister (12), my brother (10), and the youngest, who’s six and basically a walking teddy bear. 🧸 We decided to shoot some hoops because... why not? We're playing basketball in this chilled, totally non-serious way, when out of nowhere, these two girls walk up — one’s 18, and the other’s like 13.  They’d been watching us and finally asked if they could join. We were like, “Sure, let’s play buckets.” 🏀 (Which, if you don't know, is basically just throwing the ball and scoring. No rules.) It started getting a little boring with just buckets. So I was like, “Hey, why not make it a real match? Us four vs you two.” 💁‍♀️ Easy peasy. But then — they go, “We want to add one more player.” And I'm like, “Rude?” 😂 Enter: Xavier. They literally ...

 Mom walks in like a sweet-faced general with The Assignment . Lets call my little brother Mike. “Teach your little brother, Mike. Just help him a bit with reading.” Just help him, she said. It’ll be easy, she said. Should've known better. 🎓 Meet Mike: My Tiny, Adorable Menace Mike is cute. Like, baby-in-a-hoodie kind of cute. He has those big innocent eyes, marshmallow cheeks, and the superpower of melting your soul before you can say “no.” He’s also the youngest sibling. The spoiled , gets-away-with-murder kind. And he reads at the speed of… 🐌 One. Word. Per. Hour. (With snack breaks.) I wish I was exaggerating. 🧠 The Teaching Experience in One Word? H-E-L-L. I said what I said. Imagine trying to teach someone who treats every letter like it personally offended him. I was like, “Mike, it’s ‘cat.’ Sound it out. C-A-T.” He stares at me like I just asked him to decode alien algebra. “Cow?” I have never fought the urge to dig a hole, crawl into it, ...

  Okay listen. Not to be dramatic or anything, but… I have officially scrolled to the end of the internet. 💀 My brain is melting, and I’m starting to feel like a side character in a movie that forgot to write me a plot. Let’s not sugarcoat it. This isn’t just regular “I’m bored.” This is “I have 97 things to do but somehow also nothing ” bored. The kind where time feels fake. My limbs? Noodles. My thoughts? empty. My soul? dead. Welcome to rock bottom, ppl. THIS IS THE ENDDDDDD..... Population: me and my aggressively blinking cursor. ☠️ Stage 1: The SigH I sigh. I flop. I open the fridge like it’s going to solve my life. (It doesn’t. It never does.) Just a bottle of ketchup looking back at me with disappointment. I’ve opened and closed every app like it’s a ritual. Instagram, YOUTUBE, Notes app… even the calculator, bro. I read every book on my shelf and I am soooooooooooooo drained. I’m not even calculating anything, I just needed something to do. 🧠 PSA: Boredom ≠...

  Do you want to have radiant skin and get rid of those pimples and acne once and for all?  Believe me, that was my BIGGEST problem before our social events where I had to give a speech in front of  everyone,  and boy was I insecure. I couldn't decide which was worse; the fact that my face had pimples all over it OR the fact that the girls on the front seat were sniggering. That day I decided o get rid of this acne one and for all......( for they had chosen the wrong girl to mess with!😏 ) by following these hacks that changed my  life  face skin tone and eliminated those pimples by using the following  weapons  hacks; 🔥 Shocking Way #1:  The Ice Cube Facial Far from just chilling—this hack shrinks pores, reduces puffiness, and boosts circulation for glowing, tight skin. Perfect for an instant wake‑up glow before events. Celebrities and makeup artists swear by it!  How to do it: Wrap a few ice cubes in a clean cloth. Rub gently in circu...

 Let’s get one thing straight. Being kind? Love that for you. Being available to help everyone? Sweet. Being everyone’s emotional sponge, homework backup, therapist, and human Siri 24/7?  Yeah… no. That’s where I drew the line. Eventually. And when I say "eventually," I mean after I basically turned into a walking “yes” button and emotionally short-circuited like a glitchy robot during finals week. Flashback to My “Pick-Me” Girl Phase There was a time I thought being always available would make me the ultimate friend. The ride-or-die. The  “omg you’re literally an angel 🥺”  girl. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. Instead, I became everyone’s unpaid personal assistant. People would literally text me: “Hey, can you send me your notes?” “Can you help me with this argument I’m having with my mom?” “Can you explain the entire math chapter to me in 10 mins?” “Can I vent? Like, for two hours straight?” And guess what? I said yes.  Every. Single. Time. Even when I was drowning...

  Welcome to Cave Incognito, where we keep it dreamy, messy, and 100% real. You know that one person who can twist a situation faster than your earbuds tangle in your pocket? Yeah — the manipulator. The guilt-ninja. The emotional magician who always makes  you  look like the bad guy while they wear the halo. Let’s just say: today’s post is for  them … but mostly for  you . 🚩 So, What Even  Is  a Manipulator? They’re not wearing a “Hello, I’m Toxic” name tag (though imagine if they did—so convenient). Instead, they: Guilt-trip you  like it’s their love language. Say one thing , then pretend they didn’t. Make you feel like you’re  too much  or  not enough , depending on the weather. And somehow, you end every convo confused, emotionally drained, or apologizing for… breathing? Spoiler: it’s not you. It’s them. And I’m here to help you out-maneuver the emotional gymnastics they expect you to perform. 🎯 Rule #1: You’re Not a Puppet, Ba...

  Aka The Accidental Main Character Moment You know how people always say, “Dress like you’re the main character”? Well, I did. Only problem? The scene I showed up for... wasn’t even in my movie. Let me set the stage. It was a regular school day. Until my mom read a message in our school group chat saying,  “Dress up for tomorrow’s function!”  She nodded. I nodded. I pulled out my cutest outfit because clearly,  I was about to slay an event. Fast forward to the next morning: hair done, outfit on point, confidence level = Beyoncé. I'm strutting into school like I'm about to give an award-winning speech or sing a national anthem. (Plot twist: I was just about to be humbled.) On my way to class, I run into my friend. She’s in school uniform. Me: “Wait… why aren’t you dressed up?” Her: “Huh? Were we supposed to?” Me: “Yeah! The message said we had to.” Her: “OMG I had the  perfect  dress at home, I would’ve worn it!!” Cue her looking heartbroken. Cue me comfort...

  For anyone who’s ever been judged mid-bite. Spoiler: we’re not starving for your opinion. Let’s paint a scene: You’re enjoying your favorite snack, minding your delicious business, when someone — probably uninvited — decides to say: “Should you really be eating that?” Or worse, “You’d be so pretty if you just lost a little weight.” Excuse me?  This is a meal, not a roast session. And honey, I’m not the one who needs to chew carefully —  you are. Welcome to  Skylinky , where we serve motivation, real talk, and the occasional verbal clapback with extra fries. Today, we’re unpacking how to  stop caring what people say , especially when it comes to  body shaming  and  eating in public . 🍟 Step 1: Their Comment Says More About Them When someone throws shade at you for simply  existing with joy , it’s not about your body. It’s about their  own  insecurities. People who feel good about themselves don’t walk around judging others' plate ...

    This is your invitation to smile mid-sob and say “well… yeah.” Okay. So… you’re sad. Like, "suddenly overthinking a five-second conversation from two weeks ago" kind of sad. Or maybe “eating cereal straight from the box at 2 a.m. while making eye contact with your own reflection” sad. Whatever kind of sad it is — let’s just sit with it for a second. No rushing. No fixing. Just a soft moment of honesty: Yeah. You’re not okay. And das okay. But das not good. Wait. Let’s say that again, but louder: “Don’t be sad. Because sad spelled backwards is das… and das not good.” And suddenly, it’s a little lighter in here. 💔 First of all, let’s not shame the sad You’re allowed to feel it. Cry. Sigh. Lay facedown on the bed and listen to your emotional playlist on loop. You’re not being dramatic. You’re just being human.  Raw, real, possibly mascara-streaked human. But the goal isn’t to  stay  in the sadness like it’s a vacation rental you overpaid for. We feel it. Then ...