100 Free Dating Sites In Canada
Posted onby admin
- How To Set The Date and Time On a Rolex Datejust Bob's ...
- Watch Parts – A Glossary of Terms & Functions
- Watch Movements for Sale - Shop Watch Parts - eBay
- When Not To Change The Date On A Watch: Danger Zone & Best ...
- Amazon.com: Invicta Men's Pro Diver 40mm Steel and Gold ...
- Vintage watches shop - Men's classic watches for sale ...
- CHANGE DATE, DAY AND TIME ON WATCHES – Jewelry Secrets
- 8 Common Problems With Automatic Watch Automatic Watches ...
- 3 Ways to Wind an Automatic Watch - wikiHow
- Omega Men's 3221.30.00 Speedmaster Day-Date Automatic ...
100% Totally Free Dating Personals - No Signup Required! Welcome to CyberDating, Canada's largest totally free personals site! You may find other websites offering 'Free Personals' but you'll soon realize that it's not really true - they all want your money - or they have a fraction of the Canadian personals that we have. Blk is totally free dating needs. Start new friends in, no hidden fees, box 83 tujunga ca 91043 usa and canadians - free achieving this is a great place! 11 best free dating sites for a 100% free dating apps to casual dating sites in canada chat with. 25 best and totally free online flirtation, an online dating needs. Blk is totally free love. Free Dating Sites Give Singles Free Rein to Meet Dates Dating can be costly, so it makes sense to use 100 percent free dating sites to save yourself some cash to use on your first date. Free dating sites can help local singles explore the dating scene one swipe at a time, and it can build their confidence to receive likes and messages on a. Free local dating sites. With over 95 million members, happn is the dating app that lets you find everyone you have crossed paths with; the people destiny has decided you should meet. Best 4 hookup dating sites to Get Laid For Free. Absolutely for local singles flock to find free photo personals, or not.
Your automatic watch has run out of juice. Or your quartz watch has been sitting in the drawer for weeks and now the date is wrong. So of course: you need to set the date. Be careful. Changing the date on your watch at the wrong time can damage the movement. In the best case scenario, you could send it for a repair. Automatic mechanical watches, or those that rely on gears and mechanics to operate, have seen a resurgence in popularity in recent years after a boom of quartz watches. Also known as self-winding or perpetual, automatic watches wind themselves using an internal moving weight that winds or rotates when the wearer moves their arm, transferring energy to a power reserve and keeping the watch working. However, you are not necessary done setting your watch. The ham fisted effort to cram the instructions of a couple to a dozen watches into generic instructions allows lapses or gaps in how to set or use the watch. The Speedmaster Day Date indicates the: time, day of the week, numerical date of the month, & month. OMEGA CONSTELLATION 1954 BUMPER Vintage swiss automatic watch Ref. 2782-1 SC Cal. 354. Measurements: 35 mm without crown and 37 mm with crown. Good condition although with natural wear and tear over time and use. Case and back cover with obvious signs of use. Highly Wanted Black Dial Version *** BLACK DIAL *** Automatic watches are made up of about 130 or more parts that work together to tell time. Automatic movements mark the passage of time by a series of gear mechanisms, and are wound by the movement of your wrist as you wear it. The gear train then transmits the power to the escapement, which distributes the impulses, turning the balance wheel. Watch model - Your watch has a model and the year it was manufactured. Watchmakers make subtle changes to the movement over the course of a watch model lifetime. See manufacturer site for details. Condition - Watch movements are built with precision to maintain time. Even minor flaws in a pre-owned watch movement can affect how well the watch ... You see, on watches that have a day and a date, the stem has a dual purpose.It controls all the settings. So to change the day and date of your watch, pull the stem out slowly… (Note that if you have a waterproof watch, you’ll need to unscrew the stem counter-clockwise first, which is towards you, until it unlocks, then you can pull the stem out as described to change the day, date.) Part of the brand’s collection since 1945, the Rolex Datejust is the ultimate everyday luxury watch. While the model comes in a vast assortment of styles including different sizes, metals, bracelets, bezels, and dial designs, what remains constant across all Datejust watches is its time and date functionality. “Sometimes the greatest achievements take place on the smallest scale.” – Clive Owen In even the most simplistic mechanical watch, one can find an excess of 100 working parts perfectly fit and crafted to fit on your wrist. While most consumers focus solely on the outside appearance of a timepiece when making a purchase, like a car, a watch should be inspected from the inside out. I have a question about the date function for an automatic watch. For my new watch I think that I changed the date after 8:00PM. The date didn’t change after midnight. However when I change time with the minute and hour hands the date changes around midnight if I wind the srew head.
I Stole Some Onions; Now I'm a Zookeeper for 'Exotic' Creatures (Part One)
2021.12.24 09:06 Cyanide_Kitty_101I Stole Some Onions; Now I'm a Zookeeper for 'Exotic' Creatures (Part One)
Cold winds battered my body as I tried to seek shelter among the crates and containers of the seaside loading dock. Winter was finally growing too harsh for me to survive the way I had been for the past three years – on the streets. It was breaking me. Of course, the unfortunate luck of having most of my things stolen only days before did not aid in my endeavor of survival amidst the raw elements. Truly, I was at fate’s unforgiving mercy.
Deeper, I huddled into my long, puffy jacket, the fake fur which lined its hood tickling my nose as the gales harshly blew, stinging my face like a thousand, tiny needles. Suddenly, a sharp, angry growl erupted again – my stomach. Pains of hunger gnawed, twisting it as if my long empty belly would soon start to eat itself, desperate for any source of nourishment to fill it.
Squinting my eyes against the drafts winding through the stacked boxes I had burrowed myself among, I began to read a few of their labels more closely. ‘Jeans,’ ‘Acrylic Paint,’ ‘Painting Canvases,’ and ‘Raw Onions.’ Scooting closer to the massive box before me, I peered through one of the few ventilation holes drilled into its lid. The pungent odor of fresh, raw onions should have assaulted my nose, but it was too frozen to pick up even the slightest scent. Although, smooth, purple hides met my eyes in the dim moonlight.
I had always hated the prospect of stealing, even when I was seriously desperate. For five years I had been addicted to a menagerie of debilitating, illicit substances – substances that had controlled my life and taken what little I had. But even then, I hadn’t stolen to fuel the lust those chemicals had blighted me with. Despite three years without a home, I had refrained from theft. The mere thought pounded guilt into my heart, usually.
However, seeing the big, black, stenciled letters boasting minute salvation as the freezing cold bit my face and starvation threatened my life, I didn’t feel like I really had a choice. It was either I eat and sit in that container for a while, or I would surely perish, not knowing if the cold would take me quickly within my dreams or if famine would prolong my life just enough to mockingly laugh as I slowly withered away.
As my shriveled stomach feebly roared to life once again, I made up my mind. Using a small pocketknife I still possessed, I fiddled with the large container’s lock until it clicked open. I didn’t care that they were just onions. I was starving and freezing and had nowhere else to go. Nothing but hardship had ever been promised in my life before, but now, I was at least promised onions. So, I climbed into the container and shut the lid.
It was still cold in there, of course, and cramped, but most of the blistering wind was finally unable to attack me. Only small bursts were allowed to slip through the lid’s holes, and I relished the feeling of shelter, whether it was gained by nestling in a bunch of odiferous vegetables or not. Without the aid of light, I grabbed one of the plump bulbs and bit into it, flaky skin and all. Instantly, my eyes began to water, and an intense sting spread through my mouth then up through my nose. But I chewed and swallowed then bit down again without hesitation. Grateful to simply have food, I devoured three whole onions before my belly felt like it was on fire and threatened to burst for the first time since I could remember.
Half-satisfied and half-sick, I stuck two more of the large, lavender-colored bulbs into my jacket’s pockets then positioned myself to leave the container, not wishing to linger and increase the risk of danger. However, before I could, the thunderous snarl of an engine resounded just outside, and my box suddenly jolted with violence.
For a moment, it felt as though an earthquake was taking place, but then it felt like the box was floating. Looking out through the holes in the container’s lid, I watched stars rapidly shift by as something resembling a massive claw carried the crate and I swiftly through the air. My heart pounded in my chest the moment I realized what was happening. I was being loaded onto a ship, and it was going to take me away.
It’s not like I had much of anything to leave behind, but that did not curb my fear. For all I knew, I could have been getting shipped off to a mad mental institution, or a prison, or a maybe even a neo-Nazi concentration camp. Regardless, if I was caught stealing, the penalty could have been far worse, depending on who the onions belonged to. I couldn’t let myself get caught. No matter where I ended up, I had to hide and pray. It was all I could do.
For three days at sea, I hid in that onion crate, eating two of the rank roots a day. No one ever really came down to check the cargo besides a few, routine trips now and again. As such, I was free to explore the rest of the cargo hold and even able to – cautiously – use the grimy toilet they had so far below the deck. Nevertheless, having a working toilet again and not freezing my ass off was a great luxury. Whenever someone did enter the cargo hold, I hopped back into my onion crate and buried myself under the bulbs, just in case anyone noticed the open lock and investigated. No one ever did.
Finally, on the night of the third day, the ship docked at its destination, and my crate was unloaded with me in it. I had been asleep at first, but I woke up as the box was roughly set back down. Startled from my slumber and slightly delirious from having breathed an excessive amount of onion fumes for three days, I made the monumental mistake of opening the crate’s lid in a jarring panic.
Instantly, bright, white light stabbed at my pupils, blinding me. Instinctively, I recoiled and brought my arms up to shield my eyes, but a firm hand gripped one of my wrists while another grabbed my coat’s hood. Then, the person roughly yanked me from the box and tossed me onto the floor like the vermin he viewed me as – as the vermin I felt like.
“Thought you could stow away on my ship without consequence, eh?” a gruff, furious man snarled in an English accent. “Steal my client’s goods? I ought to toss you into the ocean and drown you like the rat you are!”
Blinking against the artificial glow behind his head, I gazed up at a short but very muscular man. He glared down at me with brown eyes as cold as the winter’s wind, and his stubbly face was contorted into a disgusted scowl. I then quickly noticed his balled fist as he raised it into the air, rearing it back in preparation for a devastating blow.
“Please!” I feebly shouted, my voice cracking with fear. Tightly, I shut my eyes and curled into a fetal position, awaiting my inevitable punishment. But horrid thoughts of prison and slave camps more prevalently raced through my mind as blood rhythmically drummed in my ears. After the beating, what would be my true fate?
Suddenly, another man’s voice boomed, sophisticated sounding yet laced with authority. “Stop!” Deliberate footsteps sounded then ceased right next to my ear as tears streamed down my face. “Stand up,” the new voice commanded me. When I merely sniffled in response, he repeated the order, harsher than before. “On your feet!”
Fearing for my life, I hesitantly obeyed. Shakily, I rose and gazed upon the new gentleman, face wet with tears and heart threatening to break through my ribcage.
Finely shined, black shoes led up to dark red dress pants, and those gave way to a matching pinstripe suit which conformed perfectly to his slim, tall figure. His face was neatly shaven and black hair slicked back without a single strand going astray. He was perhaps forty years of age, and from behind oval-rimmed spectacles, he assessed me as I gingerly assessed him. After a few moments, he spoke again, his tone much less harsh and more curious.
“What is your name?” he asked me, producing a small notepad and ballpoint pen from one of his jacket’s pockets. He then placed the pen’s tip to a blank page and watched me expectantly.
Adrenaline still coursing through my veins, my body trembled and voice stuttered, but I obliged. “R-raven H-hollow-way, sir.”
Flicking his gaze down to the paper, the man scribbled something then lightly pressed for more. “And why were you inside one the zoo’s feed crates?”
My own eyes momentarily glanced back to the opened container, a little less full of onions than it was supposed to be. “I, uh…” Like a rock, a lump slithered uncomfortably down my throat as I gulped, imagining what manner of torture the man may punish me with for stealing from him. “I w-was starving and freezing, sir…”
From his throat, an oddly understanding yet intrigued tone rumbled. “Mm-hm.” Again, the man wrote in his notepad then plainly inquired, “Do you have a life to go back to?”
Shocked by the odd question, my downturned gaze dared to meet his own eyes but only for a brief instant. Why did he want to know if I had aa life to go back to? Was he going to let me go? Let me ride on the ship back to where I came from?
Part of me was exhilarated that I might not find myself into torturous trouble after all, but another part of me knew that the dock I had left behind harbored what life I had had. And it wasn’t a life at all. If I went back, I would simply continue my struggle to survive on the streets, begging for change and digging through dumpsters to barely scrape by. The constant struggle to keep myself sober would continue to plague me, too, like a lingering ghost of war. None of it made up a life, not one that I wanted to return to.
“Well, miss Holloway?” the man questioned, raising a dark brow inquisitively. “Do you have a life to go back to?”
Eyes to the wooden dock, I frowned but made up my mind. Whatever was in this new location could hardly be worse than what I had inadvertently left behind. “No,” I murmured back. “I don’t. I don’t have anything.”
“Hmmm…” Thoughtfully, the gentleman tapped the pen against his chin then smiled, setting his glasses ever-so-slightly crooked. “Well then, I think I have quite the enticing offer for you.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the gruff, British man who had been quietly observing from the side. “Continue your work, Grant,” he told the shorter ship worker. “I expect every supply container to be unloaded within the next hour, as per your contract.” His grin turned smug and arrogant.
The rough worker frowned and grumbled in response, but he did not put up a fight. After casting me furious, visual daggers, he turned and promptly continued his work, leaving myself and the sharply dressed man to whatever he had in mind for me.
“You must be famished to have stowed away in an onion crate of all things,” the gentleman said, waving his hand for me to follow as he turned and began heading inland. Obediently, I followed as he continued to speak. “I can’t imagine it was the most luxurious of trips, but seeing as how you’re here now, I think we could arrange something beautiful and mutually beneficial.”
All around us, tall, lush trees lined the coast, bathed in silver moonlight. And through my tattered shoes, I felt the wooden dock soon give way to thick, soft grass. It was then that I noticed the breeze. Unlike the unforgivingly frigid winds which had ravaged my body just days before, warmth and the pleasant scent of tropical flowers caressed my skin with a gentle breath of nature. In awe, I slowly removed my coat and let the breeze explore me through layers of thin clothing, enjoying its kiss.
I had almost lost the man’s words as he continued speaking to me, but I caught them and raised a curious brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you are a young and probably attractive woman, underneath all of the filth and grimy rags,” he began to explain as he led me up a winding, gravel path surrounded by thick trees. “And, quite frankly, we could use a new zookeeper here on the island. The other one was…terminated rather abruptly, and you may just be the perfect replacement for him.”
“What?” I stopped in my tracks and stared at the suited man as if he had grown a second head. “Why would you think I’d be any good at running a zoo? You don’t know anything about me. I don’t even know where we are!” Again, my heart began to pound.
After safely tucking his notepad and pen away, the suited man clasped his hands behind his back and spun to face me. Unlike the wrathful grimace I expected him to wear from my outburst, he instead smiled as though he had already won the battle. Not a hint of doubt sat along his defined features.
“Well, you did say it yourself that you had nothing to return to,” he stated arrogantly then visually scanned my visage up and down. “By the looks of it, I’d say you’re homeless with hardly a dollar to your name. You’re filthy, gaunt, skin is pale and sunken around your cheekbones. It looks as though you’re dressed in all the clothing you possess, and your overall aura is that of a feeble stray dog awaiting her orders.”
Shameful of the truth, I looked away, but he continued and took a step closer. “Darling, you would be perfect for this job. My boss – the owner of this private island and zoo – will be delighted to take you in, provided you care for the exotic creatures housed here. In return, you will be provided with a cottage to call home here on the island, unlimited hot water and supplied food, and we will provide you with new clothes. Essentially, if you work here, you will never have to worry about the struggles of your past life again.” His grin stretched. “All you must do is say ‘yes.’”
No matter how much my gut screamed for me to decline – that something was off – I couldn’t refuse. Everything he described sounded too good to be true, but I wanted it all so badly. I craved it. There was nothing more that I wanted than a warm home and food I didn’t have to dig out of a moldy dumpster. Without much contemplation, I said yes. “Wonderful!” His dark eyes lit up, and he promptly led me further up the path to what would be my new home.
The cottage was small but cozy. It consisted of a small living space, attached kitchenette, a separate bathroom, and a bedroom behind a closed door. Overall, first impressions were much nicer than what I had grown accustomed to in the past three years of living without guaranteed walls, but it was also blatantly evident that something was utterly wrong.
In the living space, the couch was toppled onto its back, and brown liquid – presumably coffee – stained the gray carpet in a recent spill with the cup still on the floor. In the tiny kitchenette, too, I noticed a half-chopped carrot resting on the cutting board, and a pot resided on one of the stove’s cold burners. It appeared as though the previous zookeeper had been in the middle of cooking, and a struggle of some kind ensued. Yet no blood or any signs other than the spilled drink and upset sofa lended itself to the theory.
Without warning, Isaac sent me to the shower. Against my better judgement, I decided it best to not question things much just yet and look forward to a proper shower instead. Honestly, part of me was worried that if I did try to ask what had happened, I might meet the same fate. As such, I obediently stepped inside the small but neat bathroom. Whatever chaos had unfolded in the living room and kitchen, it had not touched the bathroom.
I won’t dwell on the details of my shower, but I will say that the sensation of hot water hitting my skin and the soap scraping away layers of built-up grime was like a dream. I nearly scolded myself under the fantastical flow, in fact. I would have lingered in the shower much longer than I had if the gentlemen, who’s name turned out to be Isaac, hadn’t told me to come out after twenty minutes.
They didn’t have any women’s clothing for me to wear, so he handed me a small, black suit and red bowtie. The clothes were a tad big once I slipped into them, but they were better than my dirty rags full of holes and regrets. Isaac said I looked much more presentable then ushered me outside to what looked like a modified golfcart sitting underneath the lifted balcony.
“As the new zookeeper, it will be your responsibility to make rounds every morning and evening to feed the creatures housed here, as well as clean their habitats when needed, and give tours to our esteemed guests when they arrive every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon,” Isaac told me. “You will use this cart to navigate the island and give tours, and there will be other cars you can attach to the back for such activities. Now, it is getting late, and I must attend to some unfinished business then return home. You should get some rest, as well. Tomorrow is Saturday, after all, and I will briefly show you how to perform your assigned tasks. Wear your new suit.”
A sudden, loud howl echoed through the night, but it didn’t sound like a wolf or other canine. Eerily, it sounded more akin to a human trying to mimic one, yet Isaac didn’t seem to care and ignored the sound entirely. In fact, he smirked at me then stated, “If you do not wish to possibly fall into harm’s way, I suggest you return to your new cottage now. I will be by to collect you for work come dawn. Goodnight, Miss Holloway.” With that, he spun on a heel and confidently strode away.
For a minute, I watched him go with the vague threat or warning bouncing around my skull. After he disappeared around a bend in the narrow driveway, I listened as the ominous howling came again from the distance. I looked in its direction, but all I could see from my little hill was a wall of tropical trees and the crescent moon shining above. A shiver ran down my spine as the howl turned into what could only be described as a human trying to hack up a hairball. Anxiously, I then hurried back inside the cottage.
Immediately, I clicked the door’s three different locks into place then stepped over to the kitchenette, my eyes automatically glued to the unfinished meal prep. Five, thick coins had been sliced from the long carrot, not a spec of rot or mold on it. Tentatively, I leaned forward and peered into the pot that sat upon the stove, and I found it to be filled half-way with water, but slices of potatoes and celery were also submerged in it. I could only wonder for how long they stayed like that, but it did not appear to be long.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up, so I turned away and headed instead for the bedroom. I was exhausted, anyway. Sleeping curled up in a crate, on a bed of purple onions isn’t much better than curling up on newspaper, in an alleyway. The thought of actually sleeping on a real mattress was almost erotic. For a moment, I had actually forgotten about the previous zookeeper’s possible fate, until I finally opened the bedroom door.
A plethora of men’s clothing carelessly strewn about the room first met my eyes. Suits, ties, jeans, casual wear – all of it coated the floor and bed and hung off accompanying furniture, along with messily scattered papers. Disarray dominated the space. Looking more closely at one of the papers at my feet, I noticed hastily scrawled notes in black ink occupying much of its surface. Picking the page up, I read it with a knot forming in my stomach.
‘DaVinci – Wendigo,’ read the title. Following was what looked like a script one would recite for a play. ‘DeVinci is a Wendigo. He is the only specimen to have ever been captured and confined in all the world. His kind possesses the ability to perfectly mimic any vocalizations they hear, including tone and pitch. This is used to lure in prey…’ the knot in my stomach grew as a cloud of dread hung over me, ‘preferably humans. No matter how much he eats, he is never satisfied; that is the wendigo’s curse.’
Stunned and creeped out, I blinked several times, but I still read on, morbid curiosity gripping my attention like a mouse in cat’s claws. Following the script was a list of random notes related to the beast. ‘Feed three raw pork roasts for each meal; cries like a little girl – do not fall for it; ensure he is properly tranquilized before entering the enclosure for any reason; entry code is currently 3569 – change every month.’ The date from a week ago was written next to it, so I assumed that the code had just been changed to what the paper stated, as several other codes were scribbled out near it. ‘DO NOT LET OUT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES; if escaped, use high voltage baton and stun-gun, do not try to run – you will not survive, allergic to apples.’
Biting my lip, I picked up another paper scrap and read it. It was similar in styling. ‘Ginko – Cat-Monkey. She was found during an expedition deep into the untamed jungles of Vietnam. While her body resembles a monkey and her head is that of a cat’s, DNA testing has also shown that she additionally harbors chromosomes from a porcupine, slow loris, and partially a sun bear. It is believed that she was a splicing experiment that had escaped and lived in the jungle until we found her, but her true origin is unknown.’ Like the other paper, a list of random tidbits followed. ‘Troublemaker, do not let her grab your keys; avoid quills; if keys are stolen, trade with mango slices before she escapes; if loose, lure back with mango slices and beef jerky; hates dogs; avoid elbows – poisonous sweat.’
Mind reeling, I released the papers and let them float back to join their counterparts on the floor. I didn’t want to read anymore and, frankly, wanted to already forget what I had just read. I was stuck on the island now, stuck as its new zookeeper. I had agreed to be, and I had no foreseeable way to leave. Hell, I still had no idea where exactly I was in the world. Isaac sounded American when he spoke, although much posher and fancier than I had ever personally witnessed before. But that told me nothing useful. Lost in an unfamiliar setting, scared of the mystery but greedy for a true bed and running water, I resigned myself to my fate. Maybe it was what I deserved, after all – whatever this island’s zoo had to give me, be it a blessing or agony.
Carefully, I brushed the papers and haphazardly strewn clothes off the unkempt bed then disrobed of my acquired suit. I hung it on the back of a chair which rested crookedly underneath a writing desk, in the room’s corner, next to an artist’s isle. Exhausted, I then gratefully crawled onto the soft mattress and pulled the plush blanket up to my chin, wrapping myself in it like a snug cocoon. Compared to the newspapers, it felt like lying on a cloud, and I fell asleep within minutes. Although, the thoughts of the previous keeper and speculation of my new job yet lingered inside my brain and followed into my dreams.
submitted byCyanide_Kitty_101tonosleep [link][comments]Deeper, I huddled into my long, puffy jacket, the fake fur which lined its hood tickling my nose as the gales harshly blew, stinging my face like a thousand, tiny needles. Suddenly, a sharp, angry growl erupted again – my stomach. Pains of hunger gnawed, twisting it as if my long empty belly would soon start to eat itself, desperate for any source of nourishment to fill it.
Squinting my eyes against the drafts winding through the stacked boxes I had burrowed myself among, I began to read a few of their labels more closely. ‘Jeans,’ ‘Acrylic Paint,’ ‘Painting Canvases,’ and ‘Raw Onions.’ Scooting closer to the massive box before me, I peered through one of the few ventilation holes drilled into its lid. The pungent odor of fresh, raw onions should have assaulted my nose, but it was too frozen to pick up even the slightest scent. Although, smooth, purple hides met my eyes in the dim moonlight.
I had always hated the prospect of stealing, even when I was seriously desperate. For five years I had been addicted to a menagerie of debilitating, illicit substances – substances that had controlled my life and taken what little I had. But even then, I hadn’t stolen to fuel the lust those chemicals had blighted me with. Despite three years without a home, I had refrained from theft. The mere thought pounded guilt into my heart, usually.
However, seeing the big, black, stenciled letters boasting minute salvation as the freezing cold bit my face and starvation threatened my life, I didn’t feel like I really had a choice. It was either I eat and sit in that container for a while, or I would surely perish, not knowing if the cold would take me quickly within my dreams or if famine would prolong my life just enough to mockingly laugh as I slowly withered away.
As my shriveled stomach feebly roared to life once again, I made up my mind. Using a small pocketknife I still possessed, I fiddled with the large container’s lock until it clicked open. I didn’t care that they were just onions. I was starving and freezing and had nowhere else to go. Nothing but hardship had ever been promised in my life before, but now, I was at least promised onions. So, I climbed into the container and shut the lid.
It was still cold in there, of course, and cramped, but most of the blistering wind was finally unable to attack me. Only small bursts were allowed to slip through the lid’s holes, and I relished the feeling of shelter, whether it was gained by nestling in a bunch of odiferous vegetables or not. Without the aid of light, I grabbed one of the plump bulbs and bit into it, flaky skin and all. Instantly, my eyes began to water, and an intense sting spread through my mouth then up through my nose. But I chewed and swallowed then bit down again without hesitation. Grateful to simply have food, I devoured three whole onions before my belly felt like it was on fire and threatened to burst for the first time since I could remember.
Half-satisfied and half-sick, I stuck two more of the large, lavender-colored bulbs into my jacket’s pockets then positioned myself to leave the container, not wishing to linger and increase the risk of danger. However, before I could, the thunderous snarl of an engine resounded just outside, and my box suddenly jolted with violence.
For a moment, it felt as though an earthquake was taking place, but then it felt like the box was floating. Looking out through the holes in the container’s lid, I watched stars rapidly shift by as something resembling a massive claw carried the crate and I swiftly through the air. My heart pounded in my chest the moment I realized what was happening. I was being loaded onto a ship, and it was going to take me away.
It’s not like I had much of anything to leave behind, but that did not curb my fear. For all I knew, I could have been getting shipped off to a mad mental institution, or a prison, or a maybe even a neo-Nazi concentration camp. Regardless, if I was caught stealing, the penalty could have been far worse, depending on who the onions belonged to. I couldn’t let myself get caught. No matter where I ended up, I had to hide and pray. It was all I could do.
For three days at sea, I hid in that onion crate, eating two of the rank roots a day. No one ever really came down to check the cargo besides a few, routine trips now and again. As such, I was free to explore the rest of the cargo hold and even able to – cautiously – use the grimy toilet they had so far below the deck. Nevertheless, having a working toilet again and not freezing my ass off was a great luxury. Whenever someone did enter the cargo hold, I hopped back into my onion crate and buried myself under the bulbs, just in case anyone noticed the open lock and investigated. No one ever did.
Finally, on the night of the third day, the ship docked at its destination, and my crate was unloaded with me in it. I had been asleep at first, but I woke up as the box was roughly set back down. Startled from my slumber and slightly delirious from having breathed an excessive amount of onion fumes for three days, I made the monumental mistake of opening the crate’s lid in a jarring panic.
Instantly, bright, white light stabbed at my pupils, blinding me. Instinctively, I recoiled and brought my arms up to shield my eyes, but a firm hand gripped one of my wrists while another grabbed my coat’s hood. Then, the person roughly yanked me from the box and tossed me onto the floor like the vermin he viewed me as – as the vermin I felt like.
“Thought you could stow away on my ship without consequence, eh?” a gruff, furious man snarled in an English accent. “Steal my client’s goods? I ought to toss you into the ocean and drown you like the rat you are!”
Blinking against the artificial glow behind his head, I gazed up at a short but very muscular man. He glared down at me with brown eyes as cold as the winter’s wind, and his stubbly face was contorted into a disgusted scowl. I then quickly noticed his balled fist as he raised it into the air, rearing it back in preparation for a devastating blow.
“Please!” I feebly shouted, my voice cracking with fear. Tightly, I shut my eyes and curled into a fetal position, awaiting my inevitable punishment. But horrid thoughts of prison and slave camps more prevalently raced through my mind as blood rhythmically drummed in my ears. After the beating, what would be my true fate?
Suddenly, another man’s voice boomed, sophisticated sounding yet laced with authority. “Stop!” Deliberate footsteps sounded then ceased right next to my ear as tears streamed down my face. “Stand up,” the new voice commanded me. When I merely sniffled in response, he repeated the order, harsher than before. “On your feet!”
Fearing for my life, I hesitantly obeyed. Shakily, I rose and gazed upon the new gentleman, face wet with tears and heart threatening to break through my ribcage.
Finely shined, black shoes led up to dark red dress pants, and those gave way to a matching pinstripe suit which conformed perfectly to his slim, tall figure. His face was neatly shaven and black hair slicked back without a single strand going astray. He was perhaps forty years of age, and from behind oval-rimmed spectacles, he assessed me as I gingerly assessed him. After a few moments, he spoke again, his tone much less harsh and more curious.
“What is your name?” he asked me, producing a small notepad and ballpoint pen from one of his jacket’s pockets. He then placed the pen’s tip to a blank page and watched me expectantly.
Adrenaline still coursing through my veins, my body trembled and voice stuttered, but I obliged. “R-raven H-hollow-way, sir.”
Flicking his gaze down to the paper, the man scribbled something then lightly pressed for more. “And why were you inside one the zoo’s feed crates?”
My own eyes momentarily glanced back to the opened container, a little less full of onions than it was supposed to be. “I, uh…” Like a rock, a lump slithered uncomfortably down my throat as I gulped, imagining what manner of torture the man may punish me with for stealing from him. “I w-was starving and freezing, sir…”
From his throat, an oddly understanding yet intrigued tone rumbled. “Mm-hm.” Again, the man wrote in his notepad then plainly inquired, “Do you have a life to go back to?”
Shocked by the odd question, my downturned gaze dared to meet his own eyes but only for a brief instant. Why did he want to know if I had aa life to go back to? Was he going to let me go? Let me ride on the ship back to where I came from?
Part of me was exhilarated that I might not find myself into torturous trouble after all, but another part of me knew that the dock I had left behind harbored what life I had had. And it wasn’t a life at all. If I went back, I would simply continue my struggle to survive on the streets, begging for change and digging through dumpsters to barely scrape by. The constant struggle to keep myself sober would continue to plague me, too, like a lingering ghost of war. None of it made up a life, not one that I wanted to return to.
“Well, miss Holloway?” the man questioned, raising a dark brow inquisitively. “Do you have a life to go back to?”
Eyes to the wooden dock, I frowned but made up my mind. Whatever was in this new location could hardly be worse than what I had inadvertently left behind. “No,” I murmured back. “I don’t. I don’t have anything.”
“Hmmm…” Thoughtfully, the gentleman tapped the pen against his chin then smiled, setting his glasses ever-so-slightly crooked. “Well then, I think I have quite the enticing offer for you.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the gruff, British man who had been quietly observing from the side. “Continue your work, Grant,” he told the shorter ship worker. “I expect every supply container to be unloaded within the next hour, as per your contract.” His grin turned smug and arrogant.
The rough worker frowned and grumbled in response, but he did not put up a fight. After casting me furious, visual daggers, he turned and promptly continued his work, leaving myself and the sharply dressed man to whatever he had in mind for me.
“You must be famished to have stowed away in an onion crate of all things,” the gentleman said, waving his hand for me to follow as he turned and began heading inland. Obediently, I followed as he continued to speak. “I can’t imagine it was the most luxurious of trips, but seeing as how you’re here now, I think we could arrange something beautiful and mutually beneficial.”
All around us, tall, lush trees lined the coast, bathed in silver moonlight. And through my tattered shoes, I felt the wooden dock soon give way to thick, soft grass. It was then that I noticed the breeze. Unlike the unforgivingly frigid winds which had ravaged my body just days before, warmth and the pleasant scent of tropical flowers caressed my skin with a gentle breath of nature. In awe, I slowly removed my coat and let the breeze explore me through layers of thin clothing, enjoying its kiss.
I had almost lost the man’s words as he continued speaking to me, but I caught them and raised a curious brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you are a young and probably attractive woman, underneath all of the filth and grimy rags,” he began to explain as he led me up a winding, gravel path surrounded by thick trees. “And, quite frankly, we could use a new zookeeper here on the island. The other one was…terminated rather abruptly, and you may just be the perfect replacement for him.”
“What?” I stopped in my tracks and stared at the suited man as if he had grown a second head. “Why would you think I’d be any good at running a zoo? You don’t know anything about me. I don’t even know where we are!” Again, my heart began to pound.
After safely tucking his notepad and pen away, the suited man clasped his hands behind his back and spun to face me. Unlike the wrathful grimace I expected him to wear from my outburst, he instead smiled as though he had already won the battle. Not a hint of doubt sat along his defined features.
“Well, you did say it yourself that you had nothing to return to,” he stated arrogantly then visually scanned my visage up and down. “By the looks of it, I’d say you’re homeless with hardly a dollar to your name. You’re filthy, gaunt, skin is pale and sunken around your cheekbones. It looks as though you’re dressed in all the clothing you possess, and your overall aura is that of a feeble stray dog awaiting her orders.”
Shameful of the truth, I looked away, but he continued and took a step closer. “Darling, you would be perfect for this job. My boss – the owner of this private island and zoo – will be delighted to take you in, provided you care for the exotic creatures housed here. In return, you will be provided with a cottage to call home here on the island, unlimited hot water and supplied food, and we will provide you with new clothes. Essentially, if you work here, you will never have to worry about the struggles of your past life again.” His grin stretched. “All you must do is say ‘yes.’”
No matter how much my gut screamed for me to decline – that something was off – I couldn’t refuse. Everything he described sounded too good to be true, but I wanted it all so badly. I craved it. There was nothing more that I wanted than a warm home and food I didn’t have to dig out of a moldy dumpster. Without much contemplation, I said yes. “Wonderful!” His dark eyes lit up, and he promptly led me further up the path to what would be my new home.
The cottage was small but cozy. It consisted of a small living space, attached kitchenette, a separate bathroom, and a bedroom behind a closed door. Overall, first impressions were much nicer than what I had grown accustomed to in the past three years of living without guaranteed walls, but it was also blatantly evident that something was utterly wrong.
In the living space, the couch was toppled onto its back, and brown liquid – presumably coffee – stained the gray carpet in a recent spill with the cup still on the floor. In the tiny kitchenette, too, I noticed a half-chopped carrot resting on the cutting board, and a pot resided on one of the stove’s cold burners. It appeared as though the previous zookeeper had been in the middle of cooking, and a struggle of some kind ensued. Yet no blood or any signs other than the spilled drink and upset sofa lended itself to the theory.
Without warning, Isaac sent me to the shower. Against my better judgement, I decided it best to not question things much just yet and look forward to a proper shower instead. Honestly, part of me was worried that if I did try to ask what had happened, I might meet the same fate. As such, I obediently stepped inside the small but neat bathroom. Whatever chaos had unfolded in the living room and kitchen, it had not touched the bathroom.
I won’t dwell on the details of my shower, but I will say that the sensation of hot water hitting my skin and the soap scraping away layers of built-up grime was like a dream. I nearly scolded myself under the fantastical flow, in fact. I would have lingered in the shower much longer than I had if the gentlemen, who’s name turned out to be Isaac, hadn’t told me to come out after twenty minutes.
They didn’t have any women’s clothing for me to wear, so he handed me a small, black suit and red bowtie. The clothes were a tad big once I slipped into them, but they were better than my dirty rags full of holes and regrets. Isaac said I looked much more presentable then ushered me outside to what looked like a modified golfcart sitting underneath the lifted balcony.
“As the new zookeeper, it will be your responsibility to make rounds every morning and evening to feed the creatures housed here, as well as clean their habitats when needed, and give tours to our esteemed guests when they arrive every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon,” Isaac told me. “You will use this cart to navigate the island and give tours, and there will be other cars you can attach to the back for such activities. Now, it is getting late, and I must attend to some unfinished business then return home. You should get some rest, as well. Tomorrow is Saturday, after all, and I will briefly show you how to perform your assigned tasks. Wear your new suit.”
A sudden, loud howl echoed through the night, but it didn’t sound like a wolf or other canine. Eerily, it sounded more akin to a human trying to mimic one, yet Isaac didn’t seem to care and ignored the sound entirely. In fact, he smirked at me then stated, “If you do not wish to possibly fall into harm’s way, I suggest you return to your new cottage now. I will be by to collect you for work come dawn. Goodnight, Miss Holloway.” With that, he spun on a heel and confidently strode away.
For a minute, I watched him go with the vague threat or warning bouncing around my skull. After he disappeared around a bend in the narrow driveway, I listened as the ominous howling came again from the distance. I looked in its direction, but all I could see from my little hill was a wall of tropical trees and the crescent moon shining above. A shiver ran down my spine as the howl turned into what could only be described as a human trying to hack up a hairball. Anxiously, I then hurried back inside the cottage.
Immediately, I clicked the door’s three different locks into place then stepped over to the kitchenette, my eyes automatically glued to the unfinished meal prep. Five, thick coins had been sliced from the long carrot, not a spec of rot or mold on it. Tentatively, I leaned forward and peered into the pot that sat upon the stove, and I found it to be filled half-way with water, but slices of potatoes and celery were also submerged in it. I could only wonder for how long they stayed like that, but it did not appear to be long.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up, so I turned away and headed instead for the bedroom. I was exhausted, anyway. Sleeping curled up in a crate, on a bed of purple onions isn’t much better than curling up on newspaper, in an alleyway. The thought of actually sleeping on a real mattress was almost erotic. For a moment, I had actually forgotten about the previous zookeeper’s possible fate, until I finally opened the bedroom door.
A plethora of men’s clothing carelessly strewn about the room first met my eyes. Suits, ties, jeans, casual wear – all of it coated the floor and bed and hung off accompanying furniture, along with messily scattered papers. Disarray dominated the space. Looking more closely at one of the papers at my feet, I noticed hastily scrawled notes in black ink occupying much of its surface. Picking the page up, I read it with a knot forming in my stomach.
‘DaVinci – Wendigo,’ read the title. Following was what looked like a script one would recite for a play. ‘DeVinci is a Wendigo. He is the only specimen to have ever been captured and confined in all the world. His kind possesses the ability to perfectly mimic any vocalizations they hear, including tone and pitch. This is used to lure in prey…’ the knot in my stomach grew as a cloud of dread hung over me, ‘preferably humans. No matter how much he eats, he is never satisfied; that is the wendigo’s curse.’
Stunned and creeped out, I blinked several times, but I still read on, morbid curiosity gripping my attention like a mouse in cat’s claws. Following the script was a list of random notes related to the beast. ‘Feed three raw pork roasts for each meal; cries like a little girl – do not fall for it; ensure he is properly tranquilized before entering the enclosure for any reason; entry code is currently 3569 – change every month.’ The date from a week ago was written next to it, so I assumed that the code had just been changed to what the paper stated, as several other codes were scribbled out near it. ‘DO NOT LET OUT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES; if escaped, use high voltage baton and stun-gun, do not try to run – you will not survive, allergic to apples.’
Biting my lip, I picked up another paper scrap and read it. It was similar in styling. ‘Ginko – Cat-Monkey. She was found during an expedition deep into the untamed jungles of Vietnam. While her body resembles a monkey and her head is that of a cat’s, DNA testing has also shown that she additionally harbors chromosomes from a porcupine, slow loris, and partially a sun bear. It is believed that she was a splicing experiment that had escaped and lived in the jungle until we found her, but her true origin is unknown.’ Like the other paper, a list of random tidbits followed. ‘Troublemaker, do not let her grab your keys; avoid quills; if keys are stolen, trade with mango slices before she escapes; if loose, lure back with mango slices and beef jerky; hates dogs; avoid elbows – poisonous sweat.’
Mind reeling, I released the papers and let them float back to join their counterparts on the floor. I didn’t want to read anymore and, frankly, wanted to already forget what I had just read. I was stuck on the island now, stuck as its new zookeeper. I had agreed to be, and I had no foreseeable way to leave. Hell, I still had no idea where exactly I was in the world. Isaac sounded American when he spoke, although much posher and fancier than I had ever personally witnessed before. But that told me nothing useful. Lost in an unfamiliar setting, scared of the mystery but greedy for a true bed and running water, I resigned myself to my fate. Maybe it was what I deserved, after all – whatever this island’s zoo had to give me, be it a blessing or agony.
Carefully, I brushed the papers and haphazardly strewn clothes off the unkempt bed then disrobed of my acquired suit. I hung it on the back of a chair which rested crookedly underneath a writing desk, in the room’s corner, next to an artist’s isle. Exhausted, I then gratefully crawled onto the soft mattress and pulled the plush blanket up to my chin, wrapping myself in it like a snug cocoon. Compared to the newspapers, it felt like lying on a cloud, and I fell asleep within minutes. Although, the thoughts of the previous keeper and speculation of my new job yet lingered inside my brain and followed into my dreams.
2021.12.24 00:22 DueMacaron7789Are these red flags
Have been seeing a guy for a few weeks. As usual, I look for good qualities in men I date but also looking out for red flags. This guy is very open minded, intelligent, but some things we don’t see eye to eye on. He does not seem to understand what women’s issues are in relationships only men and I see in his video history on YouTube (he was over my house using his account on my tv) a lot of Mgtow , redpill, the rational male type of videos. For example we got into a convo about how a lot of women are shallow he thinks for “hyergamy”. I explained to him that people in general are shallow, and that many men only view women as sex objects whose worth to them lies in their looks as well. I also explained that there is nothing wrong as a woman, if you can, to get the best possible mate who can provide for your children . I said many men do the same as well, they choose what they think is The best possible match And try to date women who are out of their league many times if they can. He responded by saying “so it’s instinctual then? Then if women instinctually try to find the best possible mate, men can also have instincts to spread their seed”. I then said if everything was so simple and it came down to instincts like that Then only men would cheat and only men would be promiscuous, we are evolved and make choices.
We then got into an argument about what women and men find attractive in a mate. Most of these videos that I have seen in his history, promote the idea that most men only find Value in women’s beauty, youth and reproductive value. I asked him if that is what he believes, because he is telling me that just because he watches these videos doesn’t mean he believes all of what they say and he is open to listening to different theories on many topics not just dating. He tells me that this is true that men only find value in women for their beauty and youth and reproductive health. I calmly tell him that if that was the case then all wealthy men that were 50 years old would divorce their wife after making them sign a prenup to date a 22 year old. But most 22 year Old women would not want to date a 50 year old man no matter how rich he is, and there are plenty of 50 year old men who would find it disgusting to date a 22 year old woman. They also would have nothing in common with such a huge age difference. I didn’t even really know who I was or my beliefs at 22 years old.
It is troublesome that this guy seems to think this way, and I don’t See how a relationship could work. What’s the most troublesome is that he may only see value in my attractiveness, not my intellect or personality, and I think this because his search history and videos show many videos of men with this train of thought. This guy is 40 years old and wants to get married, and has never been married and has only had a couple real relationships. I can’t help but think that he has developed this type of thinking because of his lack of experience with women and how they view things. So if a woman dumps him, he automatically might think it’s evil and women are just selfish and care about hypergamy lol. What is even more ironic is that these videos explain that many women waste there 20s on being promiscuous and that is why they become older and cannot find a mate. The videos criticize women who do this, yet this guy revealed to me that he had cheated on a woman in his 20s. How ironic is that? I asked him why he cheated, and he said that it was purely sexual and that he did it because he thought he could and his girlfriend would still stay with him. This was over 20 years ago so I know some people think that if someone is a different person than 20 years ago then they should not be judged But I don’t know how much of a different person he is now. He also told me he thinks we live in a gynocentric world now where women have more rights and privilege then men. He cited this by saying there is no fat man movement lol only body positivity movements for women and courts are unfair for men for divorce. While I do agree on those points there are plenty of things that are unfair for women too. Sexual harassment for one is all over the news all the time. It is just being recognized now as something we need to change. There are many good traits that I like about him but I feel like these are huge deal breakers. I think that these male groups like redpill and Mgtow are also overly narcissistic by using terms such as alpha or beta all the time. They seem to be a term created to describe what type of man a woman wants but then online you can see these groups of men having hissy fits about one another hurting their feelings and has the words to insult each other ie) “you must be a beta bro” . It all seems extremely infantile What do you think? How many men are now following this cult mindset? I have already met two!
submitted byDueMacaron7789todating [link][comments]We then got into an argument about what women and men find attractive in a mate. Most of these videos that I have seen in his history, promote the idea that most men only find Value in women’s beauty, youth and reproductive value. I asked him if that is what he believes, because he is telling me that just because he watches these videos doesn’t mean he believes all of what they say and he is open to listening to different theories on many topics not just dating. He tells me that this is true that men only find value in women for their beauty and youth and reproductive health. I calmly tell him that if that was the case then all wealthy men that were 50 years old would divorce their wife after making them sign a prenup to date a 22 year old. But most 22 year Old women would not want to date a 50 year old man no matter how rich he is, and there are plenty of 50 year old men who would find it disgusting to date a 22 year old woman. They also would have nothing in common with such a huge age difference. I didn’t even really know who I was or my beliefs at 22 years old.
It is troublesome that this guy seems to think this way, and I don’t See how a relationship could work. What’s the most troublesome is that he may only see value in my attractiveness, not my intellect or personality, and I think this because his search history and videos show many videos of men with this train of thought. This guy is 40 years old and wants to get married, and has never been married and has only had a couple real relationships. I can’t help but think that he has developed this type of thinking because of his lack of experience with women and how they view things. So if a woman dumps him, he automatically might think it’s evil and women are just selfish and care about hypergamy lol. What is even more ironic is that these videos explain that many women waste there 20s on being promiscuous and that is why they become older and cannot find a mate. The videos criticize women who do this, yet this guy revealed to me that he had cheated on a woman in his 20s. How ironic is that? I asked him why he cheated, and he said that it was purely sexual and that he did it because he thought he could and his girlfriend would still stay with him. This was over 20 years ago so I know some people think that if someone is a different person than 20 years ago then they should not be judged But I don’t know how much of a different person he is now. He also told me he thinks we live in a gynocentric world now where women have more rights and privilege then men. He cited this by saying there is no fat man movement lol only body positivity movements for women and courts are unfair for men for divorce. While I do agree on those points there are plenty of things that are unfair for women too. Sexual harassment for one is all over the news all the time. It is just being recognized now as something we need to change. There are many good traits that I like about him but I feel like these are huge deal breakers. I think that these male groups like redpill and Mgtow are also overly narcissistic by using terms such as alpha or beta all the time. They seem to be a term created to describe what type of man a woman wants but then online you can see these groups of men having hissy fits about one another hurting their feelings and has the words to insult each other ie) “you must be a beta bro” . It all seems extremely infantile What do you think? How many men are now following this cult mindset? I have already met two!
2021.12.23 20:35 PHGAG[Question] can you break something by turning the crown the wrong direction?
Question says it all.
Only a few months into watches
I have a few different automatics (Certina DS-1 and 2 alpinists) and hesitating between 2 other watches for my next purchase.
I am aware that day/date complications shouldn't be moved at night due to them potentially already being engaged to change to their next position.
But for time and winding, can you damage anything if you turn it the wrong direction?
submitted byPHGAGtoWatches [link][comments]Only a few months into watches
I have a few different automatics (Certina DS-1 and 2 alpinists) and hesitating between 2 other watches for my next purchase.
I am aware that day/date complications shouldn't be moved at night due to them potentially already being engaged to change to their next position.
But for time and winding, can you damage anything if you turn it the wrong direction?
2021.12.23 05:31 13floppydisksP4S Plex Server USA/EU/Middle East Servers 📷 4K Content 📷 High Quality Media IPTV 10GBit Requests via Discord 1Pb Library Google Drive Shares Local Storage
Server Type: Pay 4 Share (Premium)Server Locations: USA
Europe
Middle East
Why you want US: Join US: https://discord.gg/jWHRCGMReS
So you go on netflix just to find that they stopped streaming the show.Oh no wait, it expired 2 months ago. And the show already moved to Disney Plus anyway. Frustrating isn't it?
That's where we come in. We find all the shows for you so you don't have to.
Make it easy to watch tv again. Pop on a nice movie for date night. Click on a nostalgic cartoon from your childhood. Watch that show or movie that you suddenly remembered today, but has stopped airing for a decade.
Just watch, we'll do the work.
✅ Largest library around
✅ Just watch. Nothing complicated to do.
✅ Tv updated automatically via bots hourly
✅ More than 1,000 TB of content. This means that we're around for the long-term
✅ More content than most places
✅ Paid through Paypal (safer for you)
✅ Location inside a Datacentre with Tier 1 uplinks. This means fast fast fast connections inside the USA, in the APAC region (South East Asia, Japan, Australia, etc) and in Europe (UK, Germany, etc)Middle East (UAE,Saudi Arabia,Jordan etc.). There might be a few countries we'll miss, but there won't be many!
LIBRARY
Movies 27,000+
TV Shows 8,500+
Anime 4,000+
4K Movies 1,200+
4K Tv 700+
Cartoons 900+
PRICE
Monthly Price USD 19.99
Annual Price USD 199 (10 Months + 2 free)
Lifetime Price USD 399
IPTV Plans
Monthly Price USD 20.99
6 Month Price USD $125
Annual Price USD 199
Lifetime Price USD 399
Created by experts dedicated app for android users.IPTV will work with multiple devices (Smart TV,roku,ios and more).Multiple streams offered.For more info join discord.
IPTV Trials can be provided to users with active plex sub
IPTV has additional VOD library free of charge,though library is smaller compared to plex
Google Drive Pricing on Discord
Instant Access
More then 10000 Movies and More than 7000 TV Series/Shows
Everything is provided with the MAXIMUM Quality available.
Great Prices! and 4K at NO EXTRA COST!
Why shouldn't I buy netflix instead?
We have TEN times (10x) their movies and double their shows. You could get Netflix + HBO-Max + Hulu + Disney-Plus + Amazon Prime Video for around $55 USD and you'd still have less movies than you can have with us!
- Should I drop my cable bill?
- Will you suddenly drop me and disappear?
- Why do you charge so much compared to some others?
You can take up an hour of my time asking how best to change the audio settings in your plex device, or you can send me questions in the middle of the night about a missing tv episode or the wrong audio track. We'll always be happy to help.
Just watch your tv, we'll do the work!
Discord Server: https://discord.gg/jWHRCGMReS
You can join only via discord!
submitted by13floppydiskstoplexshares [link][comments]
2021.12.23 03:00 ApeYoloDFVApe Nation - part 1 - shill bots and infiltration: API and machine learning (and DRS 🟣🚀)
TLDR; some of the message on the below was machine generated by a bot, it took less than a day to run this machine-learning assisted bot. The bot learned the ape language by himself. It could slide a discussion thread and have other apes react to reinforce a sentiment. It was 100% machine automated.I’ll show you details so that you know our enemies better. Let that sink in. Below apes discussed with a machine. If I did not tell you, you would not know this! A bot has infiltrated a discussion. Learn how. Disclaimer - it was a small and short experiment done several months ago and it was then turned off - the bot is silent now and his/her author shared details with me. You have no evidence that I am the author of that bot. Indeed that bot name looks like my own username like we are brothers/sisters in arms but that’s like a coincidence (bot is ApeYoloFOMO and I am ApeYoloDFV). GameStop has token, NFT and blockchain efforts (now official from the recent Q3 earning call) and this is transforming them into a digital and software giant. I feel this DD will help elevate your IQ to better understand API and machine learning. You will also understand better how this can be abused by shills and SHF evils. Our sections:
I am an Ape. Apes strong together. I have to give back to other Apes I feel - so here I am with my first DD ever. I think I will be attacked and downvoted, as I will reveal how SHF or others can use our community such as Reddit, and our data such our posts, comments, and traces, to just infiltrate with machine bots, and do this at scale to corrupt our mind, create division, or pump and dump - all with machine learning and software coding. Reddit IPO triggered some concerns and whoever will have access to Reddit data will also have an even easier way to operate fckery. Yeah… that’s gonna be interesting. If you wonder, yes I think it is a DD, even if it is not about the GME price or some dates. It is about showing you how this can damage apes' spirit and our community and fool you (so that you take poor decisions when under the wrong influences). It is similar to machine-driven trading like the “high frequency trading” using PFOF to trade against you - but done on Reddit, directly in our home and Ape Nation. So how a bot works to infiltrate and pump & dump or karma farm? Things you can only do right and at scale with serious skills for computers and machine learning (a branch of artificial intelligence). You need to know your enemies and their weapons. For this to be real and proven, I will show a small and short experiment done some months ago (see Disclaimer). In future posts I may show you some stats about our own subreddit(s) usage. The result of hours of computation to collect stats & info about apes, post, comments, online activities like you have never seen shared before. Computation to extract the pieces from the puzzle. Data makes you smarter - but you need to realise the same techniques and data can certainly be used to better target attacks on apes. I don’t promise that DD part 2 & 3 for anytime soon but yes I have started working on it and so did my machines. Reddit is a great large scale internet platform for communities. But it is a great software system as well. When you post a comment, a post, your click goes to a URL that then goes into a server owned by Reddit with some software in it that Reddit folks wrote. The server understands what to do and stores the data in some large scale data store (database). Like very very large. And they keep more data than just what you post. They keep metadata. Think of it as storing a large collection of documents (often called rows in a table or in more modern system JSON javascript object notation document, easier to manipulate and query). Reddit gives 3rd party access to this data with an API . They can provide it for free and have an ecosystem of integration and fun automods bots which makes their platform even better for the users. Reddit fundamentally provides an API (application programming interface) like special URLs you can call with parameters to read Reddit or even write (post, comment) in Reddit - from a program. Here is a URL https://www.reddit.com//GMEJungle/comments/qbg69h/jan_27_and_ape_history_before_i_drs_this_one_and.json If you don’t want to click, here is a screenshot of what it returns. (in this example just remove the “.json” in the address to access the post in its normal web page human format) There are more than 150 lines of metadata for that single image basic post - that’s a lot of data to explore. Upvotes, downvotes, awards, dates, author, crossposted count, and so on. That data can change over time as well - you could query this often and track how it evolves over time. You can also go deeper into the comments, the user and the user history, thus finding more posts, more comments, more user, who is online when. Only silent bots or lurker will stay invisible - but not the upvote, downvotes they do. The API can be used from some of YOUR own programs, running somewhere on YOUR own machines. Your program can then read and write in Reddit at machine speed. Like 100s of times faster than humans, or even millions times faster. The API can also do “writes” and not just “reads”. For this it requires an API “key” and “secret”. Think of the API key/secret as an extra password for the account and login of your program for it to securely be authenticated and write things on your behalf. The key will be in your program later so it’s not your user password for security reasons - you can then delete the API key later without deleting your account. Here is what their API key registration panel looks like. It is linked to that bot account (see Disclaimer). Reddit API keys to enable post/comment/downvote for the bot. This is very very basic for anyone in computer science and software engineering - but a worthy introduction to understand: Reddit is an API anyone can use to read and write at the speed of machines, much faster than the speed of humans. SIDE NOTE - Reddit does know which account is linked to an API key active and possibly used by a program to automate things. They could help find the evil bots doing downvoting for the day shit will happen and lawyers, DOJ, and FBI will be on it - I guess. Reddit account with API key = suspect. That simple. Let’s learn about things in the logical order of their implementation: the code uses the API and collects the data to feed the machine learning and generate comments from that AI-powered madness and then post it in Reddit. No human involved. Shill bot ready in 1 day (a prototype). Step 1 - collect some data from humans Using the Reddit API and some simple program you can fetch a lot of Reddit data to build your own data store with the metadata you need. If you collect the post title, content and/or comment you can start building like a big dictionary of Ape languageand even keep metadata like upvotes so that you better understand the topic trends and sentiments. The more data you have, the more expensive for you it will become - to fetch, store, and use it - but that is now YOUR data and you don’t depend on Reddit anymore unless you need to refresh it. You just need machines, cpu memory and storage capacity. Example of a metadata query - top GMEJungle posters (at time of the query, some many weeks ago when I was drafting that DD). Hi Pink! Step 2 - AI-powered: the machine learns from the data: adversarial, reinforcement, labels and scoring basics Machine learning is a branch of AI. You can use that data and metadata you collected to train another program: use real Reddit data mostly coming from human apes to feed a machine learning algorithm so that it then learns how to speak Ape language and can generate sentences like a human ape. Welcome to Artificial Intelligence (AI). The generated Ape language “AI” can also be generated in iteration. I speak to you, you speak to me, and so I learn your words and so on - but the algo does this really fast. In the experiment the algorithm is based on a natural language processing technique that analyses frequency of words with one another, their position in a sentence and shuffles all this to generate a new sentence>! (Markov chains NLP if you want to know more...).!< Facts: It took just a few hours to prepare this process for good enough results like below - and this is not the area of specialty for the author and owner of the bot. Funny that the algo could even use emoji! Ape language generated by machine... and yes it can do longer comments as well: Longer Ape language - but more complex: it starts to look sus or like he is drunk. You can also use one subreddit for the data collection, even if you target another subreddit with your bot - and no one will know that your bot is under the influence of the other subreddit learning his language from that other side - because there will be no traces of how you trained the AI… A human supervisor can also come in and judge what looks good and what looks bad or have more automatic filters and injections in the output of the AI algorithm. That technique is called scoring or labelling in AI and that helps the machine learning to learn faster, in a reinforcement loop. Some more complex AI algorithms are using adversarial strategies so that there is like a natural selection of best results over time. If you ever read about “neural networks” that might be a bit of that (NLP and Markov chains can be implemented thru neural network algorithms). Step 3 - just use API again to post comment to Reddit - all auto generated and automated The actual AI code was based on existing prior art and code (open source) - the bot author won’t share the source as he/she feels this is evil weapons like nuclear level. For the experiment, that algo was modified to have 2 generations to generate messages, and was configured to avoid “sell” and other banned language of choice. Here is the code and some logs for proof. The red underlined parts are resulting of the AI, and the AI feed itself a second time to illustrate the concept: Bot speaking to himself to learn even faster... army of shill can accept/reject to fine tune. The algo selects a random comment, and gives it as an argument to the language AI that has been trained in order to have a generated comment with some kind of in-context similarities - as you can see below (the code is matching the log above for proof): Bot finds a comment, generates a response and replies Bots' existence among apes in subreddits has been perceived as a reality by many. Now you have the cookbook and proof of the puzzle. If you read till there, I think I don’t need to explain the danger surrounding Ape Nation’ subreddits, like GMEJungle or others - because (not if) this bot and AI based approach is ongoing to corrupt and influence Apes’ mind or simply obfuscate important information when needed or create distraction or division. And yes, the API can have your bots do upvote and downvote as well… that’s very easy to implement as well. Of course, Mods, Karma minimums, account age, and invite-only subreddits are good line of defence. But that's basic. I hope you understand all that better now. As for that sample experimental bot, the code was fine tuned to comment and appear “online” between this and that time in the day, run in the background, sometimes quiet, sometimes very active. All this is simple fine tuning in code to establish strategies to avoid repetitive patterns that could compromise the bot as being perceived as… a bot. Endless possibilities. If you want more evidence or fun, just look at the bot profile comment history - none of it was written by a human - ever (and it is not my account - see Disclaimer). https://www.reddit.com/useApeYoloFomo/comments/ The link is for that bot history - and I hope no MOD or Reddit admin will come and delete this bot account - as this is evidence of how fuckery CAN happen. Sentiment trading they say - indeed someone could aim at controlling that sentiment, not just read that sentiment… SHF trade by controlling the price, not just reading the price. Same with sentiment! Rather fun but also scary. Please discuss bots and AI at Christmas and also discuss GME and DRS 🟣🚀 (Not Financial Advice) ! https://preview.redd.it/k4jh8jibk6781.png?width=438&format=png&auto=webp&s=f4e63825db171de58c58025b463defcdeebd2e10 Any SHF evil entity could also be doing one large sophisticated AI as a centralized system concentrating data and computer power, but using an army of bots with such API based bot accounts, and a smallecheaper army of interns to operate them at scale with different levels of commands. We’ll get there one day I am afraid or we already are...Disclaimer- it was a small and short experiment done several months ago and then turned off - the bot is silent now and his/her author shared details with me. You have no evidence that I am the author of that bot. Indeed that bot name looks like my own username like we are brothers/sisters in arms but that’s like a coincidence (bot is ApeYoloFOMO and I am ApeYoloDFV). TLDR; Using Reddit API and some natural language Artificial Intelligence system, once can create bots and bots army. All using software, data and machines this army is then capable of learning ape language, to post machine generated messages and create division, forum sliding, rants, and all kinds of shill fuckery to corrupt your mind - not randomly but toward specific targets, dates or topics at will.Someone might be listening and processing each and every fucking Reddit word to try to stay solvent “one more day”. Already doing this Kenny? If you do use those tools and tactics against us, the Ape Nation, be prepared to find some smart apes to be also watching you Kenny - and not just using drones, but using all kinds of software and computers (DOJ or Pegasus or Log4Shell in Kenny system looks like a thing of the past - follow the money !). The MOASS algos are also coming for you Kenny ;-) |
2021.12.23 00:24 KamchatkasRevengeOut of Cruel Space Side Story: Of Dog, Volpir, and Man - Ch 14
This truly was the high life. Jerry basks in the pooled affection of most of his brides, a group cuddle having broken out in the massive bed that dominated the master suite of their chambers. The chambers themselves were palatial, each wife had her own room, with a few more left empty by Syl's careful planning... for when more wives join. Jerry had questions about that of course, but Syl knew her business and on a ship the size of the Tear... well. Why the hell not?
It wasn't uncommon for several hundred woman strong clans and their husbands to run mass conveyers like these. There were also a couple barracks like rooms and nurseries already set up. The former for children once they grew past the need of a crib. Personal cubicals were a part of those designs. For the normal crew such personal space was needed for the lowest rank or rate of wives or spacers as the case might be, and that was just as important for children.
Syl and some of her sisters delighted in arranging things in the nurseries and the children's quarters to make them warm and homey, appropriate to their likely ever growing brood. Jaruna, Wichen, and Evie weren't quite as maternal, but with most of the family pregnant, such matters were an all hands on deck affair, especially with Jerry working to increase bonding and affection with and between his wives. They were a family as he saw it, and he intended that they act like it. The clan concept wasn't unfamiliar to him, nor indeed entirely objectionable in some senses. But it simply wouldn't do for him personally. Not his family. Not his wives. Not his children.
Jaruna had been the only one 'upset' by that concept, and that was more that she saw that kind of affection as an incredible luxury that was almost certainly going to make her soft. Coming from a Cannidor mercenary clan, she'd only seen her father a few dozen times, birthdays, first combat drop, that sort of thing, and they'd never been close. The same went for her mother, who loved her... but had high expectations, and demanded only the best from her favorite daughter. Jaruna had confided in Jerry that her mother still wasn't speaking to her after she'd left the clan to do things her own way. Clan by laws demanded it, but now she was part of a new clan, and would hopefully have a grandchild on the way.
'That'll bring the old bitch around, just you watch. Nothing mends fences and crosses lava fields quite like grand babies to spoil. Might even get you some new Undaunted. I'm sure a new military power's caught Mom's eye. Even if I hadn't quietly forwarded her the security footage of our first date.'
'Does that shoot out really count as our first date?'
'Bet your delicately sculpted ass it does baby.'
Jerry stifles a chuckle as he shifts in bed. The giant wall of muscle that was Jaruna was holding down the far end by the door. Wichen was curled up by his feet, looking for all the world like a pet cat. The rest of the girls were scattered through the bed, with Evie and Syl having claimed his back and his arms respectively. A quick scan of the room reveals Mikasa taking a nap herself in the corner, the Alsatian pup was growing quickly, and was shaping up to be a massive beastie. Jerry quietly extracts himself from the loving embrace of two of his wives, and quietly manages to evade others before making his way to the bathroom, practicing stealth movement as he goes.
When he exits the room after relieving himself, Firi is waiting for him. The shyest of the Volpir sisters he was wed to, Firi had suffered greatly at the hands of her mother and clan for her lack of... well. Everything a Volpir should pride herself on per the worst depictions of their culture. Save her luxurious coat and exceptionally fluffy tail even by Volpir standards, she was sweet, kind, and wore her heart on her sleeve. Her maternal instincts were the strongest of all Jerry's wives, and despite her usually timid nature, she had gracefully come into her own and taken the lead on those projects, and considering she was carrying eight little blessings, that was probably a good thing.
It was a hell of a number by almost all galactic standards. A near miracle by Volpir standards, with six being considered a 'very large' litter for the vulpine aliens. It was almost frightening... and hinted at what an animal Firi could be in bed. Then again, it was always the quiet ones wasn't it? Jerry mused to himself, smiling down at Firi.
The petite vixen quickly snuggles up against her husband. Firi had also adapted to the human way of doing things like she was born to it, seemingly feeding on the positive emotional feedback she was being provided with instead of a lifetime of neglect and near abuse. She wasn't cunning. She wasn't bold. She wasn't aggressive. The only things she felt strongly about had been the idea of being a slave to her biology and throwing herself at some random man without love... a near fantasy for many Volpir in a pre human contact galaxy, and that she wanted so very badly to be a mother.
She'd even gone into education as her field so she could work with children even without having any of her own. Firi had decided to set up the daycare and educational facilities for the tear... and if Jerry's little slice of paradise was anything to go by, they'd need to be hiring specialist staff for that particular job sooner rather than later. No one aboard was showing just yet... but it was clearly just a matter of time as more and more marriage documentation crossed over his desk for his review.
Jerry banishes thoughts of work from his mind and kisses the crown of Firi's head gently as she holds him. Sometimes Firi had nightmares. Calling her birth mother unkind was a significant understatement. She'd been the least liked of his Volpir spouses' mothers, an irritable old cunt with a cruel streak a mile wide. She'd been the smuggler of the family, though she liked to play pretend that she was far more of a criminal and a threat than she actually was.
Most of her daughters had followed in their mother's footsteps, becoming bullies and thugs, mostly working for their mother's small little smuggling fiefdom, but others finding their way into more serious trouble. Fighting for food, fighting for toys, fighting for even a hint of love or affection from their birth mother... all to make a 'stronger' daughter in a way that made even Jaruna gnash her teeth. Her own mother had been strict as hell, but Jaruna had never questioned that the Cannidor matriarch loved her, nor had she gone without food... except when she'd earned it by being a sassy little shit.
'Sorry...' Firi whispers, finally breaking the silence. 'I uhm... needed to recharge my cuddle battery. Evie and Syl might be senior, and they deserve their love, they're both pregnant too after all, but I...'
'You deserve my love too, Firi. You all do. Pregnant or not. You're my wives. You're all precious to me. Even if one of you says she doesn't want to have kids for a few years. If you want attention, or even just want some alone time, just us...' Jerry's hand traces down to her still trim stomach... would she even be able to walk in a few months? 'And our babies of course. All you have to do is ask.'
Firi trills happily, almost more like a songbird than the fox she resembled. Jerry couldn't imagine being cruel to such a beautiful creature, couldn't imagine raising a hand to the shining beacon of light that was Firi. She was the biblical ideal of love personified into a petite beauty from beyond the stars. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
'Well... in that case, I hear the park is done being refurbished. They added all sorts of Earth plants and trees. Even some birds and something called a squirrel.'
'They're big fluffy rodents that live in trees. They grow quickly for one, which is why we thought to add them. Especially with the light axiom force fields keeping them safely inside the park.'
'Mhmm. I was thinking... could we maybe have a picnic? I want to try more safe earth foods with you. Egg salad sounded really nice...'
'Alright, let's have a date then. Just the ten of us.'
Firi beams up at him, a little ray of sunshine as they head back towards bed together. She gets up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss before passing him off to Evie at the door, affection sought, affection received, and a date penned in for the next day. Even in her quiet way Firi managed to seek out and get what she desired. Those who wanted, and asked, received, was the basic rule of the clans in this galaxy it seemed. Be it asking for physical affection or asking to be impregnated. Jerry had been surprised at how his taking the initiative had almost confused his loves. Save Jaruna.
Apparently Cannidor men were made of slightly sterner stuff in smaller clan settings... but once a marriage hit triple digits, it was almost impossible to truly see to your spouses as a human would want to. Which made him all the more determined to limit the membership in their growing family... he'd have to put his foot down eventually, but growth seemed to be inevitable. Hell he'd started with two, then practically ballooned to fourteen over a few short weeks! All of them are beautiful. All of them are wonderful in their own unique ways. An embarrassment of riches for any man to his mind... and such wealth was almost casually ignored!
Jerry snorts with indignation for a moment, drawing a low chuckle from Evie. 'I woke up to find you gone and worried after you, forgive an old soldier for her instincts. Penny for you thoughts oh captain, my captain?'
'Don't call me that. Not in here. My rank stops at our front door.'
'Beloved then.'
'Beloved's better. Hubby, darling, 'my stud', and whatever other silly pet names you girls can think up also work. Anything more personal than my rank. You can even use my name for a change if you like.'
It's Evie's turn to snort this time, stifling laughter. 'Penny for your thoughts my love? Your face was stormy as Firi returned to bed.'
'Mhmm... just thinking about her mother... and then about how wrong the galaxy is.'
'Wrong how?'
'Each one of you girls is a treasure, and with almost anyone but me, it seems you'd be an after thought almost, not appreciated for the gems of womanhood that you are.'
Evie considers that for a moment. She was older than her sisters by a few decades, and was more thoughtful than all save Syl. Her hand almost automatically comes to rest on her own stomach, his words seemingly making her conscious of the far more manageable pair of kits she was carrying.
'I worry about this all being a dream you know.' Evie almost whispers, her tone encouraging Jerry to shut up and listen. 'You humans don't understand just how special you are. Your best are all something out of story books and fairy tales. The worst of you will be no worse than the worst of our galaxy's menfolk... and even they will still be appreciated and valued, for so rare are men that they must be. Women are commonplace. Run of the mill.'
'I'm going to stop you right there... we're all commonplace on the galactic scale, even men. And for all that, each of you girls is a unique, individual gem of the cosmos, and I pray nightly to the gods of my ancestors to thank them for the great bounty I have received, for even were I penniless with all of you, I would be rich beyond the ken of mortal men.'
'That's exactly what I mean though... you don't understand completely just the effect you have on us you know. To be married. To have the chance to have children? That's wonderful. Many billions of women will not be so fortuitous as we. To be loved like you want to love us? To be valued as you value as? To be seen as you see us? My love, as we make you wealthy beyond the ken of the men of your world, so too do you make us rich beyond the wildest dreams of all the women of the galaxy. And while I have never been spiritual...'
Evie takes a breath, steadying herself as silver teardrops brim in her eyes. 'When it became clear who you were, how you wanted to be to us... once I returned to my hotel room... I wept. With joy. To have such a boon. Wept with sorrow for all those girls who will not get the chance to truly be loved by any save their mothers and daughters. Wept for the growing seed of love for the man who looked deep into my eyes and his every word and deed made me feel like a princess in a fairy tale, and that every thing I'd sacrificed and worked for was worth it. I still have the rose you gave me. Perfectly preserved. We all do. I want to be buried with it when I finally become one with the universe. An eternal testament that I was once Evelyn Escobar-Bridger... and I was loved with all of someone's heart... and to whatever gods will listen I thank them for that gift beyond gifts. So let us remain humble for the gifts we have received beloved... if we can do that, then our love will truly endure.'
'Heh, and you call yourself crude Evie, that was beautiful.'
'Poet in a... what did you call it? Fox hole?'
Jerry suppresses a giggle at the unintentional double entendre. 'Yes fox hole poetry's a classic of soldiers... all over the universe it seems.'
'Mhmm.' Evie snuggles into Jerry's arms. 'If we pray my husband, I think we should pray that you humans, for all your martial strength, make this galaxy a kinder, more loving place.'
'By your wish, so shall it be.'
FirstLast
submitted byKamchatkasRevengetoHFY [link][comments]It wasn't uncommon for several hundred woman strong clans and their husbands to run mass conveyers like these. There were also a couple barracks like rooms and nurseries already set up. The former for children once they grew past the need of a crib. Personal cubicals were a part of those designs. For the normal crew such personal space was needed for the lowest rank or rate of wives or spacers as the case might be, and that was just as important for children.
Syl and some of her sisters delighted in arranging things in the nurseries and the children's quarters to make them warm and homey, appropriate to their likely ever growing brood. Jaruna, Wichen, and Evie weren't quite as maternal, but with most of the family pregnant, such matters were an all hands on deck affair, especially with Jerry working to increase bonding and affection with and between his wives. They were a family as he saw it, and he intended that they act like it. The clan concept wasn't unfamiliar to him, nor indeed entirely objectionable in some senses. But it simply wouldn't do for him personally. Not his family. Not his wives. Not his children.
Jaruna had been the only one 'upset' by that concept, and that was more that she saw that kind of affection as an incredible luxury that was almost certainly going to make her soft. Coming from a Cannidor mercenary clan, she'd only seen her father a few dozen times, birthdays, first combat drop, that sort of thing, and they'd never been close. The same went for her mother, who loved her... but had high expectations, and demanded only the best from her favorite daughter. Jaruna had confided in Jerry that her mother still wasn't speaking to her after she'd left the clan to do things her own way. Clan by laws demanded it, but now she was part of a new clan, and would hopefully have a grandchild on the way.
'That'll bring the old bitch around, just you watch. Nothing mends fences and crosses lava fields quite like grand babies to spoil. Might even get you some new Undaunted. I'm sure a new military power's caught Mom's eye. Even if I hadn't quietly forwarded her the security footage of our first date.'
'Does that shoot out really count as our first date?'
'Bet your delicately sculpted ass it does baby.'
Jerry stifles a chuckle as he shifts in bed. The giant wall of muscle that was Jaruna was holding down the far end by the door. Wichen was curled up by his feet, looking for all the world like a pet cat. The rest of the girls were scattered through the bed, with Evie and Syl having claimed his back and his arms respectively. A quick scan of the room reveals Mikasa taking a nap herself in the corner, the Alsatian pup was growing quickly, and was shaping up to be a massive beastie. Jerry quietly extracts himself from the loving embrace of two of his wives, and quietly manages to evade others before making his way to the bathroom, practicing stealth movement as he goes.
When he exits the room after relieving himself, Firi is waiting for him. The shyest of the Volpir sisters he was wed to, Firi had suffered greatly at the hands of her mother and clan for her lack of... well. Everything a Volpir should pride herself on per the worst depictions of their culture. Save her luxurious coat and exceptionally fluffy tail even by Volpir standards, she was sweet, kind, and wore her heart on her sleeve. Her maternal instincts were the strongest of all Jerry's wives, and despite her usually timid nature, she had gracefully come into her own and taken the lead on those projects, and considering she was carrying eight little blessings, that was probably a good thing.
It was a hell of a number by almost all galactic standards. A near miracle by Volpir standards, with six being considered a 'very large' litter for the vulpine aliens. It was almost frightening... and hinted at what an animal Firi could be in bed. Then again, it was always the quiet ones wasn't it? Jerry mused to himself, smiling down at Firi.
The petite vixen quickly snuggles up against her husband. Firi had also adapted to the human way of doing things like she was born to it, seemingly feeding on the positive emotional feedback she was being provided with instead of a lifetime of neglect and near abuse. She wasn't cunning. She wasn't bold. She wasn't aggressive. The only things she felt strongly about had been the idea of being a slave to her biology and throwing herself at some random man without love... a near fantasy for many Volpir in a pre human contact galaxy, and that she wanted so very badly to be a mother.
She'd even gone into education as her field so she could work with children even without having any of her own. Firi had decided to set up the daycare and educational facilities for the tear... and if Jerry's little slice of paradise was anything to go by, they'd need to be hiring specialist staff for that particular job sooner rather than later. No one aboard was showing just yet... but it was clearly just a matter of time as more and more marriage documentation crossed over his desk for his review.
Jerry banishes thoughts of work from his mind and kisses the crown of Firi's head gently as she holds him. Sometimes Firi had nightmares. Calling her birth mother unkind was a significant understatement. She'd been the least liked of his Volpir spouses' mothers, an irritable old cunt with a cruel streak a mile wide. She'd been the smuggler of the family, though she liked to play pretend that she was far more of a criminal and a threat than she actually was.
Most of her daughters had followed in their mother's footsteps, becoming bullies and thugs, mostly working for their mother's small little smuggling fiefdom, but others finding their way into more serious trouble. Fighting for food, fighting for toys, fighting for even a hint of love or affection from their birth mother... all to make a 'stronger' daughter in a way that made even Jaruna gnash her teeth. Her own mother had been strict as hell, but Jaruna had never questioned that the Cannidor matriarch loved her, nor had she gone without food... except when she'd earned it by being a sassy little shit.
'Sorry...' Firi whispers, finally breaking the silence. 'I uhm... needed to recharge my cuddle battery. Evie and Syl might be senior, and they deserve their love, they're both pregnant too after all, but I...'
'You deserve my love too, Firi. You all do. Pregnant or not. You're my wives. You're all precious to me. Even if one of you says she doesn't want to have kids for a few years. If you want attention, or even just want some alone time, just us...' Jerry's hand traces down to her still trim stomach... would she even be able to walk in a few months? 'And our babies of course. All you have to do is ask.'
Firi trills happily, almost more like a songbird than the fox she resembled. Jerry couldn't imagine being cruel to such a beautiful creature, couldn't imagine raising a hand to the shining beacon of light that was Firi. She was the biblical ideal of love personified into a petite beauty from beyond the stars. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
'Well... in that case, I hear the park is done being refurbished. They added all sorts of Earth plants and trees. Even some birds and something called a squirrel.'
'They're big fluffy rodents that live in trees. They grow quickly for one, which is why we thought to add them. Especially with the light axiom force fields keeping them safely inside the park.'
'Mhmm. I was thinking... could we maybe have a picnic? I want to try more safe earth foods with you. Egg salad sounded really nice...'
'Alright, let's have a date then. Just the ten of us.'
Firi beams up at him, a little ray of sunshine as they head back towards bed together. She gets up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss before passing him off to Evie at the door, affection sought, affection received, and a date penned in for the next day. Even in her quiet way Firi managed to seek out and get what she desired. Those who wanted, and asked, received, was the basic rule of the clans in this galaxy it seemed. Be it asking for physical affection or asking to be impregnated. Jerry had been surprised at how his taking the initiative had almost confused his loves. Save Jaruna.
Apparently Cannidor men were made of slightly sterner stuff in smaller clan settings... but once a marriage hit triple digits, it was almost impossible to truly see to your spouses as a human would want to. Which made him all the more determined to limit the membership in their growing family... he'd have to put his foot down eventually, but growth seemed to be inevitable. Hell he'd started with two, then practically ballooned to fourteen over a few short weeks! All of them are beautiful. All of them are wonderful in their own unique ways. An embarrassment of riches for any man to his mind... and such wealth was almost casually ignored!
Jerry snorts with indignation for a moment, drawing a low chuckle from Evie. 'I woke up to find you gone and worried after you, forgive an old soldier for her instincts. Penny for you thoughts oh captain, my captain?'
'Don't call me that. Not in here. My rank stops at our front door.'
'Beloved then.'
'Beloved's better. Hubby, darling, 'my stud', and whatever other silly pet names you girls can think up also work. Anything more personal than my rank. You can even use my name for a change if you like.'
It's Evie's turn to snort this time, stifling laughter. 'Penny for your thoughts my love? Your face was stormy as Firi returned to bed.'
'Mhmm... just thinking about her mother... and then about how wrong the galaxy is.'
'Wrong how?'
'Each one of you girls is a treasure, and with almost anyone but me, it seems you'd be an after thought almost, not appreciated for the gems of womanhood that you are.'
Evie considers that for a moment. She was older than her sisters by a few decades, and was more thoughtful than all save Syl. Her hand almost automatically comes to rest on her own stomach, his words seemingly making her conscious of the far more manageable pair of kits she was carrying.
'I worry about this all being a dream you know.' Evie almost whispers, her tone encouraging Jerry to shut up and listen. 'You humans don't understand just how special you are. Your best are all something out of story books and fairy tales. The worst of you will be no worse than the worst of our galaxy's menfolk... and even they will still be appreciated and valued, for so rare are men that they must be. Women are commonplace. Run of the mill.'
'I'm going to stop you right there... we're all commonplace on the galactic scale, even men. And for all that, each of you girls is a unique, individual gem of the cosmos, and I pray nightly to the gods of my ancestors to thank them for the great bounty I have received, for even were I penniless with all of you, I would be rich beyond the ken of mortal men.'
'That's exactly what I mean though... you don't understand completely just the effect you have on us you know. To be married. To have the chance to have children? That's wonderful. Many billions of women will not be so fortuitous as we. To be loved like you want to love us? To be valued as you value as? To be seen as you see us? My love, as we make you wealthy beyond the ken of the men of your world, so too do you make us rich beyond the wildest dreams of all the women of the galaxy. And while I have never been spiritual...'
Evie takes a breath, steadying herself as silver teardrops brim in her eyes. 'When it became clear who you were, how you wanted to be to us... once I returned to my hotel room... I wept. With joy. To have such a boon. Wept with sorrow for all those girls who will not get the chance to truly be loved by any save their mothers and daughters. Wept for the growing seed of love for the man who looked deep into my eyes and his every word and deed made me feel like a princess in a fairy tale, and that every thing I'd sacrificed and worked for was worth it. I still have the rose you gave me. Perfectly preserved. We all do. I want to be buried with it when I finally become one with the universe. An eternal testament that I was once Evelyn Escobar-Bridger... and I was loved with all of someone's heart... and to whatever gods will listen I thank them for that gift beyond gifts. So let us remain humble for the gifts we have received beloved... if we can do that, then our love will truly endure.'
'Heh, and you call yourself crude Evie, that was beautiful.'
'Poet in a... what did you call it? Fox hole?'
Jerry suppresses a giggle at the unintentional double entendre. 'Yes fox hole poetry's a classic of soldiers... all over the universe it seems.'
'Mhmm.' Evie snuggles into Jerry's arms. 'If we pray my husband, I think we should pray that you humans, for all your martial strength, make this galaxy a kinder, more loving place.'
'By your wish, so shall it be.'
FirstLast
2021.12.22 23:57 PrincipessaEboliSurviving auditions: advice from a current music major
Hello! I notice this sub has a strong focus on applying for STEM-related majors, so I want to give a little love to the Fine Arts people lurking around here. I’m going to direct this specifically towards my fellow music majors, my beloved future colleagues. But some of the info is probably relevant to other Fine Arts majors like theater, dance, and visual arts.If you’re reading this and you’re not a music or fine arts major, know that you probably underestimate the difficulty and stress of applying to music schools . Don’t get me wrong- every major is hard in it’s own way and I’m not at all saying music is harder than any other major. I have the highest respect for STEM and Humanities majors and all the struggles y’all go through. But look, applying to be a music major is NOT EASY AT ALL. It’s almost January , and the hell that is audition season is in full swing. Getting accepted into your dream school isn’t enough- you also have to get accepted into the music program. That means going for a trial lesson, establishing a rapport with your potential prof, preparing rep for a solid year, and then actually playing the audition (one of the most nerve-wracking things in existence). You have to wait an extra couple of months after you get your school acceptance letter to find out the results of your audition. It’s just- a lot.
So yeah. Hopefully in this post I’ll be able to help someone with a few pieces of advice.
A little bit about me first. I’m currently a Sophomore Violin Performance major in a mid-sized conservatory-equivalent university program. (I don’t want to share what school I go to in this post because I’m trying to keep personal info off my Reddit account but I’d be happy to pm it to anyone who wants to know. Just ask.). I’m going to add a History major soon so I’ll be double majoring. I’m planning to go on to grad school for music, and from there hopefully to a career in professional orchestra.I’ve played violin basically all my life. I started at age 4 and played in ensembles throughout middle and high school, but I only really found my deep passion for music in my Sophomore year of HS. I started practicing a lot more and decided that I wanted to major in music. Somehow, I still don’t know how, I passed all but 1 of my auditions, and got into my dream school on scholarships. Feb 1, 2020 was the day I played that fateful audition at my current school. Just a month before Covid shut everything down in my state. I graduated and accepted the offer in June - so here I am.
It’s hard work and a lot of stress (grueling 3-5 hour rehearsals, + don’t even talk to me about theory class), but I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else for the world. Being a music major is awesome. It’s really fun despite being stressful and the people are amazing. You’ll find you have a special camaraderie with your classmates in music school, it tends to form tight bonds. And you’ll grow as a musician and as a person while cultivating your love of music.
Anyway, enough rambling.
Initial Steps
So you’ve just decided you want to be a music major. What now? Well, there’s a few things you need to get started on. Hopefully, you’re in your Sophomore or Junior year of HS, because this takes quite a bit of time. If you’re in your Senior year and haven’t taken these steps yet, you might want to consider taking a gap year or attending a CC while you prepare for the insanity that is music school applications.
- Look up audition requirements for some schools and establish a rep list. Just get a general idea of what is expected to audition on your main instrument for most schools. Generally, it will be a similar list for most schools. For example, violinists usually have to prepare a Concerto, a Solo Bach piece , and an etude/ short showpiece. Some schools may require scales as well. Look at requirements for rigorous programs and less rigorous programs and decide what’s within your reach. You should be able to play the required rep confidently with both excellent accuracy and a well-developed sense of musicality. Tell your current teacher about your aspirations and have them help you choose your pieces. Now start practicing the audition material ASAP.
- Go meet potential professors. Seriously, I can’t stress this enough, you NEED to set up trial lessons with professors that teach your instrument and meet them early on in the application process. As you narrow down your college list, email the professor(s) for your instrument and say basically “Hey, I’m a prospective student and I would like to have a trial lesson with you”. Most profs will give you a trial lesson for free, but a few may charge. Go play something for them and have a talk. This serves two purposes. First, these are the people who will be hearing your auditions, and they have a huge impact on whether you get in or not. If they’ve already seen you and heard you play, if they liked what they heard, you are far more likely to be accepted. Second, your private teacher is probably the most important prof you’ll have in music school. You’ll have a way closer relationship with them than with any other prof- after all, you’ll be spending an hour a week alone in a room with them and in the process sharing a very vulnerable part of yourself. Before you decide on a school you need to gauge whether or not you can get along with your potential private teacher. More on that later. But trust me, do trial lessons. The only school I got rejected from was also the only one where I didn’t meet any of the profs before my audition.
- Study a little music theory if you don’t have a great background in it. I’m talking intermediate/ advanced theory concepts dealing with chords, etc. Some colleges require you to take a theory exam as part of the application (mine did). Even if you don’t have to, knowing theory will help you a lot in college.
- Also learn a bit of piano if that’s not your main instrument. All non-pianist music majors have to take class piano, which most of us have a love-hate relationship with. It helps to be prepared. If you’re good enough, sometimes you can even test out of a semester or two which is an advantage.
In case you haven’t figured it out yet, music majors don’t sleep and have basically no social life. Accept that fact now, and move on. ;)
The Auditions
You have now narrowed down your college list to maybe 3-10 colleges and audition dates are looming. You’re practicing your hardest right now, and all that practice and stress is taking a physical, mental, and emotional toll on you. How do you handle audition season and come out unscathed? I’m going to further divide this into two headings, one about the video pre-screening and one about the final in-person audition.
General tip for both: Don’t lose your head. You know your rep well, but your nerves are going to be your worst enemy. You need to harness that nervous energy and use it to motivate you instead of to drag you down. Take a deep breath and relax, you got this. More on nerves a little later.
I. The Pre-screening Round, or Recorded Video Auditions
- Start recording early and record a lot. As soon as you feel comfortable enough with your pieces, you should start making recordings. Record over and over again until the due date comes. You don’t want to just make one take and send it in. Recorded auditions give you the chance to present your very best to the judges. Unlike in-person auditions where you get one shot and you’re done, you get as many tries as you need. Take advantage of this!
-Don’t agonize. Pick your best video to send in, but don’t let yourself get bogged down overanalyzing your recordings. Narrow it down in a couple of watches and go with your gut. Don’t beat yourself up over small mistakes.
- Presentation is important. You don’t want to look messy and unprofessional on video . Stand against a wall or hang up a sheet for a nice background. Free the area of clutter. Tell people you live with to be quiet. Make sure you have decent lighting. Dress nicely (formal all-black clothing is the traditional choice) , fix your hair, put on makeup if you wear it, etc.
- In the 2-3 weeks leading up to your first audition, you need to play your entire program through multiple times a day. This is to familiarize yourself with the program and build the necessary mental and physical endurance.
- Practice breathing and starting the piece(s). Those first 30 seconds or so of a piece or excerpt are crucial. That’s when first impressions are made. So spend time just practicing breathing, setting yourself up, and starting.Do it over and over so you know you’ll be fully present from the first note.
- Picture a successful audition. This strategy sounds kind of stupid but it’s been shown to work in studies and it definitely does something for me. Before you go to sleep, when you first wake up, and when you’re just chilling, close your eyes and imagine yourself at the audition. Picture yourself poised confident, and relaxed, playing your best and nailing difficult passages. Imagine walking out knowing you did well.
- Fight the nerves. This is probably the most difficult thing about auditions. You will be very nervous. Everyone gets nervous before and during auditions. Audition day is all about counteracting your mental and physical response to this feeling of nervousness. There are many strategies you can use in the all-important few minutes before you play. Do breathing exercises. Meditate. Pray if you are religious. Imagine yourself successful like I already described. Give yourself a good pep talk. This one really works for me. Before auditions I’ve been known to get in the practice room and after warming up talk to myself aloud. I look in the mirror and pump myself up, saying things like “you got this, you can do it, you’re gonna nail it”.
-Focus only on your playing. Center yourself. Concentrate. Don’t stare into space, don’t zone out, don’t think about how nervous you are, don’t let yourself panic. Think only about playing the way you’ve practiced. Don’t get distracted by anything else happening in the room. Whatever you do, DON’T look at the judges while playing. At least not very much at all. They’re going to sit there watching you closely with intimidating expressions on their faces, scribbling furiously on a sheet of paper. That can be really scary and can easily throw you off your game. So just don’t watch them. Besides, it’s considered bad form to stare at your audience in a performance, and in this case the judges are your audience. It’s hard to resist but trust me, don’t watch them.
-Again, presentation is important. Dress well in formal concert black. Do your hair and makeup like you would for a performance. Look neat, put together, and like you put in some effort.
After the Results
Congratulations, your last audition is over! First things first, celebrate. This is a huge accomplishment, regardless of your results. Go have fun, eat ice cream, whatever. You deserve it. Put it all behind you and don’t agonize over your performances as you wait for results to come in. Chances are, your hard work will be rewarded and you’ll make it in. Then there’s just a couple more things to think about as you decide what offer to accept.
- See if you qualify for arts scholarships. Most schools will automatically consider you for a music scholarship once you audition. But sometimes you have to apply separately before the faculty decide to award you a scholarship. Make sure all that is taken care of.
- Decide on a teacher. Sometimes the final college decision is based on the prof who will be your private teacher. Other times there are multiple professors of your instrument at the school you’ve chosen and you must decide who you want to teach you. If you feel like it would help you, go for a second round of trial lessons . It’s not totally necessary, but having a second trial lesson with my current prof gave me the confidence to make a decision I felt good about. This time, you don’t need to be quite as worried about making a good impression, because that impression has already been made. Instead, focus on asking yourself questions, like: “Can I get along well with this person both in a professional and personal relationship?” “Is their teaching style in line with my learning style?” “Do they seem responsible and organized?” and so on. The first trial lesson is more for them to scout out you, the second trial lesson is more for you to scout out them. Once you decide on a teacher, if there are multiple at your school, you need to email them to say that you intend to join their studio. They will work with you from there.
- You don’t have to decide right away, but think about what, specifically, you want to do. Music programs will have several different degree plans and areas of specialty . You can do a general music degree, music performance, music education, music therapy, and sometimes things like music production or sound engineering. Look at what colleges on your list offer and think about what you want to do. Think about your future career too. Do you want to perform professionally? Teach privately? Teach in a public school? Direct an ensemble? Compose? Do you want to go to grad school for music? Or maybe you don’t plan on a career in music and just want to study it in undergrad and then move on to a different career. In that case pick a degree plan that is flexible enough to allow you to double major and focus on other studies. Keep in mind that hours of personal practice outside class will be required and don’t overload yourself going in.
submitted byPrincipessaEbolitoApplyingToCollege [link][comments]
2021.12.22 17:38 Jacket_PythonThe longest ban-list you’ll ever read…combined with an insane setting (part 1)
A little introduction is needed. I initially posted this story on an Italian forum under the topic “the stupidest DM you ever had”, but a friend of mine asked me to post here in RPG horror stories. First things first, I should apologize in advance for my bad English, as this is the first time I write such a lengthy text in foreign language so please excuse any error in syntax or grammar. And speaking about lengthy, buckle your seats because this is a long story. Like, so long that I had to divide in chapters (no kidding, we’re talking 1 hour long or more read).The reason for such wordiness is because this was not wrote straight away, but rather in small fragments along the months of this delirious campaign. So here is it, the almost word-by-word translation from the original post:
After my umpteenth attempt to play a D&D campaign, gone dead because the usual absentee players, I was able to find a group of players in my city thanks to some unforeseen miracle. And by “miracle” I mean a divine intervention, from an unnamed deity who decided to relentlessly punish me in this earthly realm. I do not believe in reincarnation, but if that’s actually true after enduring this campaign I will reborn in a well-hung billionaire. With wings.
By getting in touch, I learn this is a Pathfinder group who came to be from the union of other players who, just like me, had to deal with various desaparecidos that constantly defect sessions out of the blue. Thinking back about it, I can safely say the frequency and the punctuality of the group, both players and DM, was a huge step forward for me. It was the ONLY step forward for me. But let’s go in order.
I would have liked a D&D 3.5 campaign, but they played Pathfinder (1° edition); not a problem, I already knew most of the rules/differences because in my many years of DMing I considered switching game system, and I also allowed in one of my campaign one of my players to use a Gunslinger in the 3.5. The DM, however, warned me there would be few modifications to the core rules, along with homebrewing, banning and restrictions to avoid any possibility to break the game. In my hearing that, I was already growing the aforementioned pair of wings…
You see, the campaign was set in our world, around 1850 in England, but magic exists. Creatures like demons, werewolves and vampires are seen as legendary being, and if they really existed in the past they are now long extinct; the magic is also considered stuff of legends, and if you believe in magic in the modern world (of 1850) you’re considered insane. But in the same setting there are also all the races from the core rulebook, yet the world is a copy-pasted version of the 1850, despite the fact that even a single one of those elements would have drastically changed the history. But don’t worry, we will come back on the setting later.
TL;DR: After few one-shot adventures that would task even the most hardened player, we join a supposedly “low magic horror-investigative” campaign with one of the most absurd, lengthy and limiting banning/restriction list applied to our characters, with the main gimmick of the campaign being so insane that would make a psychiatrist quit his career. When we finally begin the actual campaign, in a setting so incoherent that even a flimsy question from the players would make the very foundations of this “world” tremble, the constant barrage of insanities and nonsensical happenings is only ever briefly interrupted by the amateurish rules mistakes done by the DM. The sheer amount of limitations and restrictions applied to the characters builds, along with incorrect ruling, maddening houserules and the adamant refusal of the DM to let our characters progress to level 2 slowly but steadily corrupts the game, in an exponential implosion process that finally culminates in a, literally, explosive finale.
If you’re into stories where an army of goblins fired from a cannon is the less stupidest thing you’ll witness, this is the right campaign for you. Assuming your asylum allows tabletop games, of course.
Chapter 1: Prelude to a Disaster
At first, we did some one-shot adventures with pre-generated character, just to know each other a little more. After few weeks we created the characters, and we then began the actual campaign. However, from those one-shots alone, I should have foreseen the impending doom awaiting us, but my craving for playing clouded my judgment…
From those various one-shots, set in average fantasy worlds, I witnessed firsthand aberrant scenes already deserving of this topic. So, just for your enjoyment, the appetizer:
- - Other players choose the pre-generated character, but they got no clue on what those characters can actually do; for instance, the one who picked the druid had no idea what any of his spells do, how his Wild Shape works, or anything at all about the animal companion.
- - Everyone, DM included, already know how to play and know the rules: even more, they played for years! However, when my character used the Total Defense action, everyone stared at me as if I just swore during the Angelus. Apparently, no one had the smallest clue that this option existed IN THE CORE RULEBOOK, the DM even asked me if I just made it up on the spot.
- - The DM has a really twisted idea of the concept of “fun”. When the druid casted an Ice Storm spell on 15 “fire-things”, the DM had the player rolls 3d6 of bludgeoning and the 2d6 of cold damage INDIVIDUALLY for each creature, opposed to the Saving Throws of course. Where anyone else would have rolled 5d6, with two of different color to differentiate the cold damage ones, our DM stopped the game for 20 minutes so the player could roll a grand total of 75 dices, noting the damage for every creature. The vast majority of which, by the way, was instantly killed anyway because those monsters totally-not-created-on-the-spot had like 8 HP each. When I asked why he didn’t just tell the player to roll once for everyone, like any other DM would have (and like the rulebook says), he answered me, and I quote, “but this is more fun!”. I was so blown away that I forgot to mention him that Ice Storm have no Saving Throw…
- - In that same occasion, the DM told the druid player that the 2d6 of cold damage are non-lethal damage. I pointed out that’s not the case (the spell text don’t say so), but the DM inform me that all cold damage in Pathfinder is classified as non-lethal. “Really? Is there such difference between 3.5 and Pathfinder?” I naively ask, and the DM points me to page 442 of the Core Rulebook, where it says that cold and exposure deal non-lethal damage to the victim. Which means the damage you get if you happen to be half-naked in the middle of snowstorm, and clearly not referring to generic spells and effect. As, on the other hand, you could have guessed by noticing the paragraph about Cold Dangers on page 442 is under the Environmental Rules chapter. [trust me, this part was even worse in Italian, because the terms get translated completely different]
- - Speaking about rules, other players rely fully on the DM, and the latter looks for confirmations on the site golarion.it [Italian site mainly about Pathfinder]. Put it simply, is one of those who in case of any doubt regarding the rules, instead of opening the rulebooks he prefers to ask on an internet forum. What could possibly go wrong?
- - Players and DM are happy that in Pathfinder there is no “bullcrap about critical confirm roll”. I pointed out that is not the case, and I am indeed even more surprised that, compared to 3.5, there are so many abilities that increase the confirmation roll. Including the ones on 3 out of 4 pre-generated sheets we were using in that moment. Once again, room temperature dropped.
- - When our characters fail the Perception roll, the DM instead of just saying “your character doesn’t see X”, he prefers to dedicate detailed descriptions on how your ranger was blinded by a flash emanating from a dropped sword nearby, or how you gnome bard got suddenly dust in his eyes, and so on. Needless to say, such wordiness vanishes the moment you roll that natural 20 on Perception.
- - The DM didn’t know what “taking 10” and “taking 20” means. After showing him the page that describe the thing, he will be convinced that if my character take 10 on a Survival check, he will obtain an end result of 10 even if he has +8 to said check. Moreover, it will take hours to perform, because why not.
- - The DM improvise everything. Well, for some one-shot is not really an issue, and to be fair he warned us in advance about that. But when he start to improvise deadly Save or Die traps with a saving throw of 25 it’s a bit bothersome, especially at level 7.
Chapter 2: Designed to Implode
Let us get to the point, to the real deal. As I already told you, the campaign will be set in our world, 1850 England, but in this setting both magic and monsters are real. However, there is NO difference between the setting and the reality of the real life 1850, as magic and monsters are relegated to legend by commoners.
The campaign will be low magic horror-investigative, we begin from level 1 and the DM warns us there will be restrictions applied to our PCs.
Now, I’m not going to use the word “railroad”, not even once, so if you get that feel from now on that assumption is entirely on you. Said restrictions include, but are not limited to (I may have forgot something):
- Only the Core Rulebook + the Gunslinger (from Ultimate Combat) are allowed. Any other class is not: in an investigative campaign, you cannot play the Investigator.
- Samurais and Ninjas are not allowed: in a setting where the Edo period Japan exists, Samurai and Ninjas do not.
- You cannot multiclass. This obviously precludes any Prestige Class, but it’s interesting to note that, when I questioned why this specific limitation (in Pathfinder multiclassing is typically ill advised) the DM answered me “because in Pathfinder multiclassing is such a mess, with all those abilities that cross”. To date, I still have absolutely no idea on what the hell he was talking about; maybe he was referring to the VARIANT MULTICLASSING RULE found on Pathfinder Unchained, but who knows…
- Any option from whatever other rulebook could potentially be considered by the DM, but basically it’s a NO to everything. This also includes rules and options from Horror Adventures, the rulebook the DM used as cornerstone for the entire campaign. It’s like playing in the Faerûn but you can only use the Player’s Handbook, while Forgotten Realms rulebooks are banned.
- All of the classes from the Core Rulebook are allowed, however magical classes will have even more restrictions, both on rules and roleplaying. About the latter, your PCs will believe magic is originated from “the power of God” or something along those lines. I’m not even going to touch this one.
- Speaking about magic restrictions, all of the following spells (or any ability that can replicate the effects) are automatically banned:
§ Any teleport spell that can target creatures
§ Any mind-affecting spell
§ Any spell that might compels someone to do anything against his will (whenever allows a Saving Throw or not)
§ Any spell that allows you to “scry or enter someone else mind” in any way, shape or form
§ Any spell that allows you to read other people mind, or gather informations from any source (basically 3/4 of all Divinations spells)
§ Any spell that can manipulate or move objects in any way, shape or form
§ Any spell that can damage objects from the distance
§ Debuff spells can last some hours, at best, regardless of what the rulebook says. For instance, casting Blindness on an enemy will make him blind for some hours. If someone else cast it on us, it is permanent as usual.
With that said, it is important to note that enemy NPCs DO NOT have those limitations. We cannot cast a Charm Person spell on an enemy, but said enemy could cast it on us. Moreover, we cannot even try a counterspell, as we don’t even have Charm Person on our list. I’ll have you notice the banned spells list also includes Message, Prestidigitation, Acid Splash, Ray of Frost, and Read Magic. Summon Monster spells are not banned, because moving a key from the distance with Mage Hand breaks the game, summoning an eagle to do the same does not. Surprisingly, the DM’s girlfriend playing a druid have nothing to do with that.
- “Common” language is actually English. Every other fantasy language like Elvish or Draconic exist, but if you want to speak French, Italian or Spanish you have to spend points.
- Base races are allowed, but everyone in the setting believe they are humans. This includes elves, dwarves, gnomes and half-orcs. One might wonder who actually speak dwarven if dwarf kingdoms (and relative culture) never existed, or why nobody wonders on “humans with pointy ears” living 10 times longer than regular-eared humans, or why humans affected by achondroplasia have innate magical powers regardless of magic being only a legend. Some individuals of those races know they are not just some “atypical humans”, but they are considered insane by the rest of the society. Even if they got actual palpable proofs of their true nature.
- The campaign will be a good oriented one. Not in the usual sense that you can only play good or neutral alignments (and if you want to play evil you have to keep it hidden from other players/have an agreement with the DM), instead only the three good alignments are available. And you cannot switch them in game.
- Playable characters, all of them, must have a phobia. It is not an option, nor will be counterbalanced by some bonus (like Flaws in D&D), you MUST have some sort of irrational fear the DM can exploit to crush you on your knees every time he desire. I picked caligynephobia (fear of beautiful women).
- Playable characters, all of them, have to be “humans”. And by “humans”, I mean “puss!es”. If you encounter a monster, you MUST get scared. You cannot roleplay a stoic warrior, a cold minded ranger, an airhead bard who try to smile even in most desperate situations, or a courageous paladin (who, by the way, is Immune to Fear as per rulebook). When you witness a spell or a magical creature, your one and only roleplay interpretation can be wonder followed by fear, even if it is the seventh time you saw such performance in the very same day.
- You can only invest skill points in class skills, or the ones that can be used untrained. For example, everyone can invest points in Acrobatics, but only someone playing a class with Spellcraft as a class skill can invest points in Spellcraft. If you are a Fighter and want to invest points in Use Magic Device to be more useful, you cannot. Moreover, since you cannot multiclass either or even gain new Skills from rules/feats from whatever rulebook, shame on you. Since I considered it very weird, I questioned the DM about this restriction too. The DM answered me this wasn’t on him, but rather the rulebook that says so. Needless to say, the rulebook does not say so. Nevertheless, even after showing him the actual pages of the rulebook nothing changed.
- We use the “Luck Skill”. In theory, a d20 roll for every time a player try to achieve something not specified on the rulebook. In practice, a d20 roll for every time the DM doesn’t bother to open said rulebook. Do you want to perform a coin trick? The rulebook would suggest to use the Sleight of Hand skill, but since the DM doesn’t know/doesn’t remember, let’s do a Luck roll. And goodbye kiss to any skill points invested, dexterity bonus or anything else.
- The DM have the final word on abilities and skills DCs. You may think it’s the same as any other campaign, but here is a liiiiiiiiittle different. Here is more intended that, say you want to cross a rift with an Acrobatics check, you wouldn’t be able regardless if you scored a 35 on said check, because the DM does not want you to proceed in that direction.
- The campaign will be slow. How slow? Well, apparently, last time the DM ruled a campaign (in this same setting) the players were stuck at level 1 for almost a year. A real life year, with an average of one session per week. Have you ever heard about the E6 system? Basically, this is the E1 version.
- At first level, player characters begins with maximum of the Hit Die as their initial Hit Points. Starting from the second level, you roll the Hit Die and add the Constitution Modifier. No, I didn’t write it wrong: at first level, for whatever reason, you don’t get the usual bonus for your high Constitution score. Moreover, considering you basically never level up, this makes the Constitution a dump stat.
- You will have the rulebook’s average starting character wealth for your class (you know, the usual 105 gp for a barbarian, 140 gp for a rogue, and so on). Everything else you should start with (like a Familiar or the Gunslinger Battered Firearm) must be however be granted by the DM, if he deems appropriate. I shall remind you this is a low magic campaign, so you can just forget about health potions or wands, or hell even magic items shops. Weirdly enough, the weight of your equipment doesn’t need to be properly noted (as one would expect), you should just not exaggerate too much on packing stuff.
- The DM may deem unrealistic some rules, and therefore not use them. For example, the Treat Deadly Wounds option of the Heal skill is considered unrealistic, and thus not allowed to the players. So to speak, basic first aid practices are “unrealistic”, but landing from a 30 feet fall with no damage thanks to a good Acrobatics roll totally is.
- Combat Maneuvers like bull rush, disarm or trip will be simplified ad such: you roll 1d20 + CMB (bab + strength + size) against the opponent, which in return will roll 1d20 + CMD (10 + bab + strength + dexterity + size). If you roll higher, you succeed in whatever maneuver you’re trying. If you cannot spot what’s the problem, here it is: normally you would roll your 1d20 + CMB, but you only need to beat your opponent’s CMD, with no defensive roll. Also, individual maneuvers have specific variables (like dwarf Stability trait), yet the DM’s idea of “simplify” is actually to trash all and any variable and add a free d20 to the defender. As a result, having roughly the same level and scores, if you want to perform any combat maneuver against someone, with your d20 you need to beat your opponent d20 roll…on top of his dexterity bonus, plus 10. Either your average d20 roll is an 18, or you can forget about any tactical combat option.
- Grapple has been simplified so much to cease to exist, basically. Forget about grappling a spellcaster to impede his cast, or to pin someone to facilitate your rogue friend’s sneak attacks. The whole grapple option has been reduced to “if you can beat your opponent CMD (+ the aforementioned d20) you can “stop him for one turn” “. What does “stop him for one turn” means is yet to be disclosed.
Me: “I would like to play a tactical fighter!”. DM: “Fine to me, but we use a “simplified” version of the Combat Maneuvers”.
Me: “I could play a Bloodrager, it looks interesting!”. DM: “It is not on the core rulebook, also it does not integrate well with the setting”.
Me: “For the race I was thinking about a Wyvarian, I’ve always wanted to try out something like that!”. DM: “I could allow that race, but you would be hunted by everyone because they would mistake you for a demon”.
Me: “Since no one want to play the healbot (no sh!t Sherlock…), I could invest some skill points in Heal and thus, by selecting the Healer’s Hand feat, I could use the first aid rules to help with healing, it should be very fitting considering we’re in a low magic setting!”. DM: “No, Heals skill is unrealistic, I won’t allow that use”.
Me: “What if I play an Investigator, with the Psychic Detective archetype? This way I shouldn’t bother you with unrealistic alchemical extracts!”. “DM: “Hmm…I could allow that, but spells have “some” limitations (see the list above), also alchemical extracts are not unrealistic, unlike the first aid”.
Me: “Considering the setting, I was thinking about starting with a cynical neutral character, which will slowly become good over the course of the campaign!”. DM: “No, you’re good. End of discussion”.
It is worth noting those exchanges happened like 2-3 times per session over the one-shot period, but regardless of how many new restrictions popped up every single time, the final pdf yet contained even more…
After all of that, one evening we finally create the actual characters. And one more surprise awaits us: the DM created the character sheet layout!
I bet some of you may think “Oh, that’s so sweet of him!”, but sadly I’m a pragmatic individual and I only care about the final result. How was the final result you ask? As expected, total bullcrap. The part for the languages was so small we mistaken it for a graphical decoration, the space for the feats only had 6 “slots” in total, at least one quarter of one of the two pages was dedicated to the essential character portrait panel, the part for the spells was minimal and didn’t have the usual table for the spells per day, in the equipment part you have more space for writing down the weight of a given item rather than the actual item name, and finally in the whole sheet we’re missing the Special/Class Features part. Just like we are also missing the sheet for an animal companion or familiar. I begged the DM to let us use a normal character sheet, but once again it was denied because “it is better this way”.
In any case, I choose the Gunslinger and for the race I was miraculously able to convince the DM to let me play a Kitsune. For those who don’t know, it is basically an anthropomorphic fox that can shapeshift (if you select the feat for it) into the individuals it already met. So to speak, a lesser version of the Changelings from the Eberron setting, but the DM told me to do not abuse my character and not break the game. In the same party we have a Slayer, a Druid and a Cleric; how can a level 1 shapechanger break the game even more than a druid or cleric could potentially be able to is yet to be known…
As often happens in these cases, we weren’t able to complete the sheets in one run (mainly because every time we laid the pencil on the paper the DM informed us about a new homebrewing/restriction/ban), so we are going to finalize next week. In between those sessions, however, the DM dropped the nuke: he texted us that our backgrounds will have restrictions too, the first and most important is none of us ever witnessed one of those magical creatures from the legends. In other words, we are ALL fasting on any knowledge whatsoever regarding the “supernatural”. Including the cleric who can cast spells, the druid who can cast spells and owns a talking cat (don’t ask) and the shapeshifting kitsune. So, the cleric knows the magic is real and can harness it, but yet believe magical creatures doesn’t exist. Which is basically like saying that you don’t believe in aliens, regardless the fact there is a flying saucer parked in your lawn every other day.
Chapter 3: Inception Art Online, Reloaded
You may think that between delirious one-shots, an incoherent setting and insane restrictions the surprises are over. Poor things. How naïve. Ingenuous. You almost make me believe there’s hope for humankind.
For you see, the main gimmick of the campaign is that we are “Psychonauts”. For those of you who played the homonym videogame, well, it’s basically that: one day, a mysterious old man gifted us special goggles and a bowl linked to said goggles; when we put the bowl on someone’s sleeping head, thanks to the goggles we can “enter in his/her dream world”.
So, in this low magic horror-investigative campaign, where monsters are relegated to legends and if you believe in magic you’re treated as an insane individual, four fellas going around with super-eyewear that allow them to jump into someone else dreamscape are considered perfectly normal. No wait, we’re even notorious for that (it is one of the mandatory aspect of the background)! Essentially, the various “dream worlds” will be the equivalent of your usual dungeons in a normal campaign.
I bet someone could appreciate the idea of being a psychonaut, but just like it was for the characters, the builds and the background, a new swindle is awaiting us. Described in the 26 pages pdf provided by the DM, here for you how the goggles, the bowl and relative “dream worlds” work:
- - Normally, our characters will help other people by “entering” in their heads thanks to the goggles, to solve any “psychological trauma” they might have. In order to “enter the dream world” you need to place the bowl on their head while they’re sleeping. If the person is in coma, that’s easy stuff. If the person is hostile, you need to knock him out with non-lethal damage, possibly bound the subject, and finally put the bowl on his head. May I remind you, good campaign, level 1, no spells/abilities for support.
- - If the bowl get destroyed, damaged or lost, the goggles are then unusable, since no one of us know how they work, how to repair them or where to find a new bowl. In essence, Game Over. To be honest, the DM did specify there’s a way to use the goggles without the bowl, but we never discovered anything about it.
- - The “dream world” is a combination between a lucid dream, a generic dream, that individual unconscious and his mental/psychological traumas. Everything can happen. You could potentially enter in the dream of a young farmer traumatized by the loss of his parents during a war, but how actually this will play out in the dream world is based on the farmer unconscious, his psyche, and how the DM will brew everything up. You could have to face an army of shadow-men, or maybe a gargantuan dragon representing war itself, or maybe you will have to protect the child version of the farmer by fending off some raging creatures. Not only you cannot know in advance, but also you cannot deduce it, or neither use some spell to foresee it (they’re banned), consequently you cannot properly prepare in advance for the challenge: in other words, you will be completely in the dark even if you are the reincarnation of Carl Gustav Jung.
- - Once the goggles are activated, you cannot exit the dream world until the “trauma” of the individual with the bowl is resolved. As I said, the trauma and how it presents (and also the resolution) is completely at discretion of the DM. Just like in Sword Art Online, once you enter the virtual world you cannot escape it until you finish the game. Think about entering a dungeon, the entrance of which will be permanently sealed once you stepped in and you don’t know where or if even exists a way out. At level 1. Low Magic. And it will be like this every time.
- - Just like for Sword Art Online, Matrix or Inception, dying in the dream world means dying in the real world.
- - Just like for Sword Art Online, Matrix or Inception, when you are in someone else dream-mind your body lies helpless in the real world. Difference being in those movies there’s always someone who watch over your body while you are in the virtual world, here clearly nope. If, while we’re linked in a dream world, a rascal happen to pass and robs, kidnaps or kill us, we can’t do anything to avoid it. Hell, we wouldn’t even notice until it’s too late. Well, one of the player could stay out of the dream world to guard us, but this also means that player would just come to session to do nothing while the rest of the party plays the adventure/dungeon/dream world; and, should a threat arise, hardly he would be able to anything about it alone, since we’re level 1.
- - Dream worlds have their rules, always changing and shifting. This includes gravity, setting, population, dangers, anything. You could find yourself in an underwater city, where characters can breathe water but cannot speak (or cast spell with verbal components), maybe you will land in an active volcano infested by terrifying demons, or maybe visit a village where gravity goes from “overwhelming” to “inexistent” in a blink of an eye, anything goes… It’s almost like an extraplanar journey to a plane of existence completely at random everytime; a plane you cannot escape of. Should I remember again, level 1, low magic.
- - Even time flows differently and at random in dream worlds: few hours in the dream may be few seconds in the real world, or months. As I already mentioned, the body of the characters stay in the real world, so if you’re adventuring through dreamscapes while in the real world weeks are passing, you will die of starvation. And, once again, you cannot exit to replenish until you’re done with the adventure. Normally one will solve with a Ring of Sustenance or similar, but I have to repeat myself: level 1, low magic.
- - Since the “dream worlds” are actually non-real dreamscapes, nothing you might find in there can be brought out in the real world. The opposite, however, works. To be clear: if in the dream world you find a 2.000 gp treasure, that’s totally fictitious; but if you fire 5 arrows, or the fighter lose his sword, when you finally wake up the 5 arrows and the sword will be lost. Forever.
Funny thing, now that I think about it, even a single one of those factors would be potentially lethal and would make hesitate even a party of medium-high level characters, now imagine combining all together. And, once again, I remind you that all of what you read until now is not a collection of collected follies I gathered during the campaign, but merely a recap of the 26-paged pdf the DM gave us, which should make you notice a small detail: THE CAMPAIGN IS NOT YET STARTED!!
[Small Interlude]
[While halfway on translating this stuff, after rereading and rewriting the entire story, I now fully realize the amount of insanities I’ve gathered during those month. And to my surprise, I also realize how many things I left out, from the spontaneous self-combustion of NPCs we weren’t supposed to talk to, to magic items that suddenly stop working because the DM forgot about them, to the boiler-men, suicidal enemies, maps so senseless that would put M.C. Escher to shame…
During those sessions I had a small notebook that I used as a journal, in the vain hope of noting the various clues we would have supposedly collected since we were allegedly playing an “investigative” campaign, but I ended up noting only the follies we faced; and only one third of those will appear below.
Just to give you an idea of what didn’t make the cut: do you know how priceless are rerolls in D20 system? Well, in some sessions my teammates got unlucky streaks of dice rolls, and because of that we were on the verge of wiping. Normally you would make use of your abilities/feats/builds/items to get out of problems, but since we were practically naked, with no special abilities and half of the core rulebook banned, we were doomed every other day. In those moments, one of my party members would kindly ask the DM “can I just, like, reroll this attack roll?” and the DM (knowing full well that we would be dead by the end of the next round if he did nothing) simply…allowed them to reroll the dice, for free. Meanwhile, I had to beg the DM, beat him at Crash Team Racing (twice) and play with him at Call of Cthulhu board game (almost single-handedly beating the Blasphemous Alchemy episode) to be allowed to use the Treat Deadly Wounds option of the Heal skill. Once.]
Continue in part 2
submitted byJacket_Pythontorpghorrorstories [link][comments]
2021.12.22 06:17 Hopeful_Seat5266Just another another individual confused about their typing...use ANY means necessary to type me (MBTI, Enneagram, Attitudinal Psyche, Temperaments, etc.).
Some people find it easier to identify others through visual typing (Ni gaze, Ne scattered eyes, etc.)...this may help them reach a conclusion or get a certain 'vibe' from me.
• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
Spoiler alert inbound...I type myself as ENTX 8w7 854 Sp/Sx; however, just because I think that about myself doesn't mean it's right. I find it easier to discuss ideas or conclusions I've reached with others to increase the probability that what I'm saying is actually true and not BS. I'm exactly 22.5 years of age and constantly changing my outlook on life. My titles are he/him/them if you're wondering, and I really don't care if you call me otherwise. I'm here to share as much as I can about me--good, bad, and ugly--in order for the readers to form a holistic analysis about my type even if it just a Reddit post. I know that what I will type WILL offend some people reading this post and I want to apologize in advance.
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
Even though I've never taken a mental health assessment before, I would like to believe that sometimes I FEEL (which is subjective and probably not true) that I'm either antisocial or a psychopath. I say that because I give off the impression that I'm some murderer or convict when I look or sometimes stare at others for longer than a second. I guess they would assume this about me because of how well I maintain eye contact with them, therefore making them feel vulnerable or exposed. Also, I have a thing where I test others to see if they are real or fake and present multiple 'shit tests' to quickly figure them out; people seem to think that I'm nice until it gets intimate, and then they run away from me. While I think through the consequences of my actions, I seldomly fear failure and never sympathize with the emotional ramifications of those actions taken.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
I would like to believe my father was an ESTP 8w7 and my mother--just as choleric--ESTJ CP 6w7. As you have already guessed, I am a victim of both mental and physical abuse. I have been cut with sharp knives and raped by my father (he went to jail twice and put on a restraining order) in combination with the emotional aloofness brought by my mother. Her attentiveness towards me was proportionally related to my academic and extracurricular achievement. I grew up in a 'Christian' household where my father identified with the popular prosperity gospel and the counterpart using it as social capital. Neither of them actually went to church and behaved quite hypocritically compared to what the Bible actually commands you to do. The familial atmosphere was governed through an authoritarian, conservative point of view and any liberal ideologies proposed by me or my friends were strictly forbidden. It is true that they say, 'Strict parents make for deceptive, rebellious children.'.
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
I currently work as a member (2 months from start date) at my university's (CSU) grounds crew department. It is a glorified title reserved for the landscaper...despite the mentally sedative aspect of working at this job, I truly enjoy that it's a hidden gem where you get to make an impact but never receive the accreditation from your peers. I have also worked at automotive shops, retail, fast-food joints, and warehouses for food banks. I try to add variety in what I do for work for the sole purpose of increasing my understanding about the world and then applying those skills in the future.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
I think it's important to mention that I'm not partial to either spending weekends alone or with others. I can be quite gregarious and manipulate the social atmosphere to understand others more deeply--or to get something out of it--but I prefer focusing on more solitary hobbies when I get the chance. I have this thing that if I die and do not produce something original or pursue something valuable to me, I would assume that I have failed at life. So, to combat this feeling of emptiness, I read as many books as I can (psychology, philosophy, sci-fi, self-help, etc.) to broaden my scope of what this world actually means to me and the aspects of what makes other people tick. I also play bass guitar when I feel inspired or struggle to understand my emotions. Furthermore, my short term goal with this landscaping job is to save roughly $1200 in order to buy an Arturia Keylab (88-key version) keyboard/piano, stand, and a foot pedal. I also like to party with friends SOMETIMES in order to understand myself better in a social environment and experiment with drugs or sex to get those primal instincts out of the way. Some other things to list is that I play video games, socialize and debate with others on discord, or participate in seasonal activities--summer hiking or winter skiing.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
I prefer to engage in activities that either decrease my cortisol levels or activities that I don't understand in order to acquire a better grasp of them. This could be a de-stresser like playing darts with a few friends or a new activity like playing chess with my roommate. Historically, I was never good at sports because I spent more time indoors partaking in indoor hobbies instead of playing sports with others. Obviously, you are going to be bad at sports (or anything really) if you don't practice at getting better playing them. Recently, I have been more involved playing either football or basketball on the weekends and slowly increasing my skill. However, I don't watch sports and if you catch me watching a sports highlight it's because I desired to improve a certain skill. I think watching sports is a waste of time and only holds true to how tribalistic humans can be about their Patriots or Yankees. Sports entertainment is like the devil deceiving the world that they're selling their souls for something worth while, except the consequence is an empty wallet instead of eternal condemnation.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
I'm probably just as curious as an Ne-dom would be. In contrast to what I just typed, I'm highly curious about subjects that will hold some value to me in the future. For example, if the game is chess and I know that I will mostly likely play in an amateur tournament, I will study the fundamental concepts for hours, play a few games, review my mistakes, and continuously apply the most effective mindsets and plays provided by the professionals. Comparatively, I'm not just going to watch a video about Bayesian probability, then read a wiki--maybe 10 articles--about D-Day, then play Sudoku because I got bored about reading copiously the events of D-Day, and then watch cat videos for 2 hours. That doesn't make any sense time-management wise if I'm trying to improve my chess game. The trend that I've noticed is that I prefer researching information and applying my knowledge about abstract topics as most people are oblivious to the topics of discussion or my friends are focused on learning more about it.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
I do not always enjoy being put or automatically exalted as holding the leadership responsibilities of my group. That is because I assume people are intelligent until proven otherwise, in which 90% of the time I'm proven wrong. There are many ways I assume leadership however, through charismatic interactions, leading by example (quite the effective example ;) ), or by my presence alone. The caveat to this is that I'm quite polarizing around others which leads to the majority of them hating me or the few inspired by me, to follow my lead. Very often am I a loner because of my cynical, smart-ass behavior, constantly challenging the logical robustness of my superiors. This summer, I completed basic camp (basic training for ROTC cadets) which was a truncated version of basic training where you get yelled at, droned to follow commands the moment the Drill Sargent raises his mandibles, and uphold the Army values of duty, respect, integrity, 'Oh, you know the thing!'. The problem was that I couldn't handle being a brainless drone and constantly challenged authority resulting in a bad reputation and almost being kicked out 3 times. I eventually quit that shit because I would rather do something more inspiring...than whatever that was. Side note: I don't hate you if you are currently serving or are a veteran who has served in the past. I want to thank you for your contributions--I come from a military family--but it's not for everyone.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
Considering that most likely I do not suffer from the cognitive impacts of Se or Si demon, I am actually quite coordinated. While I'm certainly not an athlete, I do have a grasp of how my body performs and actually use it better under pressure. The distinction of what my physical experience is like is as follows: A jock will weight lift because it makes him look cool in front of his friends and makes him feel more secure about getting the 'bitches'--I don't objectify women and therefore do not sympathize with those choice of words. I, on the other hand, weight lift because 1.) I'm like the guy off of 50 shades of grey and enjoy torturing others and myself (more so mentally concerning others), and 2.) because my telomeres will eventually shorten until my body dies. So, it is imperative to exercise and discipline myself with a good diet in hopes of slowing my body's natural carbon-dating process.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
I used to draw characters from my favorite video games back in high school before I lost my passion for it. I still appreciate art and the main reason I use Instagram is for art appreciation. The art I like is focused more on the anthropological side of things (humans, animals that are designed to look like humans, human symbolism found in objects, etc.). I really like to study humans, both male and female and appreciate studying the sexualization of both sexes (play on words maybe?). I like listening to many genres of music as a means of furthering my understanding of music theory and how I will apply it to my creation of music one day--progressive rock is my favorite genre because the field is quite experimental. I also play music from time to time even though I'm still an amateur. I started off with acoustic guitar, and then tried electric guitar for a bit before gifting it to a friend, then to bass guitar, and hopefully a piano in the next few months. I want to achieve Dave Grohl levels of instrument mastery in hopes (tired of that phrase already) of either forming a band or creating new music focused on the prog rock genre.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
I'm not one to berate any MBTI type because of how they perceive the world. I'm an opportunist who finds value in every function specifically perceiving functions. I think the past is beneficial to me (history, primary documents, laws, maps, cultural beliefs, religion) as it furthers my understanding about the world around me. However, history repeats itself, and I've learned that some traditions are archaic, humans are just animals that can critically think and will do anything in their power to dominate their peers, and that religion is full of shit because it is just a socially engineered hunk of garbage with the intent of mass mind control. I enjoy the present because if you master living in it, you will never be a slave to depression (obsession of the past) or to anxiety (obsession of the future). However, living in the present fully completely negates respect for the consequences of your actions; speeding into a wall, drinking to liver failure, fighting to see who's dick is bigger than who's and ultimately just getting stabbed to death in what was originally a fist fight. Also, living in the present or the past is quite the antithesis to innovation, and that bloody scares me. I enjoy the future because it literally increases your wisdom stats (IQ + Existential Anxiety * Absolute Truth). Constantly thinking about the future essentially matures your being quickly and prepares you for the worst while also effectively looking original. If I do fancy watching YouTube for 2 hours, it is because I want to know about recent developments in engineering, psychology, or art (NO cat videos). Thinking about the future was the essential element that allowed hunter-gatherers a competitive edge in their hostile environment, and because of that, we flex on our natural predators by dropping skyscrapers on top of them. On the other hand, thinking about the future potentially results in anxiety in tandem with inaction, and I despise inaction! Unfortunately, we have too many people on Twitter, Reddit, and Quora thinking about the future and the possibilities it brings instead of just going outside and realizing those ideas. Side note: if you suffer from anxiety, just get off of social media. Twitter comments are just distractions at best, and at worst, point your brain into a neverrending depressive downturn. Basically, too many people base their identity on what others think about them online and they need to stop fucking doing that!
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
I will admit, I have struggled in the past and will probably always struggle with asking for help from others. I really hate being seen as either weak or incompetent in the eyes of others and naturally struggle in isolation to figure something out. This is most likely due to my ego being so self-reliant like it is and, and I envy others for being able to achieve and produce things that I can't. I know this is a digression of the previous statement, but sometimes I just 'google image' famous actors and media stars and just feel envious that I wasn't able to decide my genetic makeup. I don't think I'm particularly unattractive, it's just that my body doesn't match my personality. Anyways, I love using my knowledge and hands-on expertise as a way to connect with others in my life and that is not through words of affirmation but through acts of service. I know that I'm an asshole and active benevolence through my actions is the best way I can help others get through their problems.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
When I make fun of someone else, it is usually because of how illogical or irrational they were behaving. I would reliably consider myself as someone who holds an IQ of 120-130, no less, no more (sorry ego stuff and I want people to give a shit about it). That being said, if I'm always searching for truth which is inherently logical or sound, why would I waste my time pursuing things that are inherently irrational? Most of my friends are rationals...but I also don't have many friends (laugh out loud). For example, when my roommate comes to me with an emotional problem, I will immediately brainstorm all of the LOGICAL ways to solve the problem instead of consoling him in hopes that it will somehow delete the breakup memory in his brain. By utilizing logic, you will most likely find the solution to your problem, but I also know that rationalizing everything will lead to errors in the real-world (social expectations).
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
Let's think about the Volkswagen car brand and why it is so successful...German engineering stands for 'precision in all that we do'. In layman's terms, this means that a driver enters a Volkswagen and touches the steering wheel, they must feel a sense of confidence and precision. Now, let's apply this concept to our daily lives. While I personally don't need to feel successful to be happy, you analyze type 3s and see that they are highly charismatic, competitive, and perfectionistic at everything that they do and that is why they are so liked--and probably why they are so successful. So, something to learn from them is that you actually have to give a damn about what you are doing in life if you want either yourself or others to be satisfied. It also assists building rapport in the leadership department, more people will respect you if you value efficiency productively manage your time. So, why would you be lazy and let life roll you out like a red carpet?
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
Since I spend a lot of my time analyzing and figuring out the environment around me, I don't necessarily demonstrate this dominatrix vibe. This controlling or overwhelming effect that people get from me comes from my body language (intense stare, broad shoulder stance, low voice) and confidence in my mental ability to get something done. Remember how I typed that I was going to write ugly things on this post? Well, people like me when I try to lure them in until they reach intimacy stage with me and then I reveal my true colors. I'm extremely possessive, aggressive, and condescending to those considering to love me. I enjoy BDSM and the darker aspects of brutal sex and a lot of the time, it is too intense for the people that I'm with. Word then gets out and then I'm lonely again, but that's just who I am. Otherwise, I expect to think and do things for themselves convincing me that they are at least superficially competent so I don't have to control them.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
My hobbies were previously stated so I will keep it brief. My social activities involve partying, hiking, rock climbing, biking, and debating (I do not do all of these often), and my isolationist activities revolve around listening to music, playing music, reading books, playing video games, and researching topics of interest (I do this more often).
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
I don't have a set learning style. There are certain things that require visual awareness, hands-on experience, logic building, intuitive ability, and read-write memorization. What do I do most often due to my lifestyle choices? That is the better question to ask. Well, I'm a horrible listener, so auditory learning is a struggle for me. I tend to rely on creative ways to learn things. For example, when learning a language like Russian (I'm still a beginner at it), I practice learning through mnemonic memorization (relating a word from a foreign idea or word to a concretely understood idea or word to deepen understanding of a certain topic). For other things, I just attempt learning through trial and error from what I've brainstormed instead of just googling everything (where's the fun in that?).
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
I have a knack of where I get the idea of something that I need to do without really being able to explain it in words. I just intuitively understand how something works when it's presented to me. I think it's important to plan everything but always have a contingency plan ready or be able to 'wing it' when things go south. I naturally want to see things from a big picture perspective and that is directly tied with the question 'why?'. Sometimes though, I struggle with understanding simple solutions because I forget the steps to say a math problem or changing a tire. So, I have been focusing more on being in-tune with what is presented to me and not just automatically assume I know how to do it. Anyways, while I prefer to plan my projects, I'm also exceptionally good at improvising even if it's emotionally frustrating at times.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
My professional aspirations? I'm currently studying cybersecurity, not necessarily because I like it, but because the job market looks good in that sector. I'm making sure that I live comfortably in order to accomplish the things that I'm actually passionate about. For the last 2 years, I have pursued professional gaming in shooters to no avail as 1.) playing video games for 8-12 hours a day literally fucks your mental health and creates quite an unbalanced lifestyle. and 2.) the games I played (Apex Legends, Overwatch, and R6: Siege) were highly saturated with aspiring pros and streamers and that made me feel unimportant...what I was doing unimportant. It also hampered my progress in university quite a bit and I'm paying the price now. I would rather enjoy learning rock instruments--pianos and violins aren't rock instruments but I want to learn them too--and starting a band at some point. That being said, I would like to, as a professional means, eventually work for the CIA as an intelligence analyst. I desire to know what secrets they're hiding for myself, as sharing confidential information could jeopardize my life.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
I literally don't fear shit. I mean, there was a rat under my bed earlier today and I beat the shit out of it with a broom (laugh out loud until I gagged). Seriously though, when you free your mind from social traditions and religious beliefs (yes, I'm an atheist) you don't even fear death. What I 'fear' is my past, for all of the bad decisions I have made even though it's not threatening to eat me. I suffer from nightmares almost on a nightly basis because of the people I've tortured and ruined in the past. I burned countless bridges with family members and partners alike. I can't help it, I'm extremely selfish and do things for my own gain. If I'm nice to someone, it's truly because the objective yield will leave me better off in the end, or as they say 'The ends justify the means'. Hm, I wonder if what I said actually classifies me as Sx first?
• What do the 'highs' in your life look like?
The high in my life would look like when I consume DMT for the first time and talk to the Jesters about what the meaning of life is about (laugh out loud x3)! Jokes aside, the highs in my life are considered to be the times that I created something unique or accomplished a long-term goal that was set out since adolescence. That I prove myself right to those that have doubted, villainized, and abandoned me in the past because they thought I too was awkward or a complete loser. I guess another 'highs' in my life is that someday, I would ultimately become a well-rounded individual enough so someone would love me without fearing who I used to be (I like INFXs BTW). I guess I do have a fear that no one would love me for who I truly am and that I will live and die as a loner never understood for who he actually was.
• What do the 'lows' in your life look like?
*Just think about what I typed above and infer the opposite, and you'll see what my lows look like...*basically I failed at life in my subjective view of failure. I failed in that I wasn't able to go against the crowd, to prove myself against the masses, that I was unable to find true meaning in what I was pursuing even though the universe has no obligation to make sense to us.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
How do I say this, it's like I'm 60% in my head but 40% in my body. It's like I'm schizotypal (probably incorrect usage of this term) vividly imagining the possible things that could happen in my environment and how they could play out while also seeing what's actually going on in front of me. It's like if you ever watched the movie inception or the matrix, I'm constantly visualizing things that aren't real in order to make life more interesting in a sense or open up the door for more ideas. So yeah, I do daydream a fanatical amount but I can always pull myself back to reality when I need to even if it isn't as inspiring. I wish real life were more like Ready Player One, where I could just open a door and it would a different universe or dimension so I could exercise my escapist fantasies.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
Well, I'm probably a lab rat if I'm stuck in an empty room...I mean do rats realize that they are being experimented on, that the cheese on the other side of the maze isn't just for their enjoyment? Anyways, I have a tendency to talk to myself in order to ensure that my thoughts are logical or what I'm saying is connected to some facet of reality. So, the 'reality' is, I would never get bored because I would probably be making shit up like a child and his Legos would. However, expect me to ask the question 'why' or 'why the fuck am I here and not someone else???'.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
I mean, here's the thing, I'm like the Limitless guy who can think of 100 things and settle on 1 course of action if necessary. However, while I can make decisions, even important decisions quickly, I don't feel comfortable about the fact that I didn't completely explore the other 99 possible solutions that would influence the outcome of that decision. My brain works constantly and I can never shut that damn thing off. This is something slightly off-topic but my brain works faster if it something I'm actually passionate about instead of something streamlined or easy to solve just by googling the answer to the problem. It is almost disrespectful to my intelligence (ego) if someone asked me for help to a problem that a common person could easily solve themselves (How do I know if my tires are flat?).
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
I have a love-hate relationship with emotions in general, not just my own. I feel bad for homeless people but I also know that some of them are just con-artists with a scraggly beard. I think being a gentleman who dresses well would probably get me laid more often but why would I lie to myself? The god that you serve probably makes you happy and I'm glad that you found the motivation to improve yourself, but I still think you're a fool for believing it (scientific revolution and enlightenment baby!). However, I love music and the fact that it will never betray me; that I am able to express the emotions I don't quite understand or want to vocalize in specifics thanks to the culmination of various vibrations that synthesize into a certain rhythm that I like. I like to make music because I know it brings people together and music therapy is something that I'm also interested in. The breakthroughs that come about in that field are quite fascinating to say the least. I want to connect with people in ways that my words never could by making them feel good with my skill and what I was able to create.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
No, did I say no? I must've actually done DMT if I said yes because the sober me would've definitely said NO. I really don't do compromising because I'm not going to let my ideas, intentions, actions, feelings, fall into the hands of someone else. I like to be self-reliant and that is congruent with how I present myself to others. I say things that just piss people off...why would I want to be fake? If I don't agree with what you think or believe, why would I just accept being an idiot? Now, I know what empathy is and when someone, who is in a VULNERABLE position requires it, or someone --who is a type 9--doesn't know how to stand up for themselves (I love type 9s too!), I will step in and educate them on how overcome something and put a smile on top of the banana sundae. I really do sympathize for the underdog but that might just be because I'm always looking for conflict and it's fun fighting for the losing side. That is why I always like to play the devil's advocate when I can because I just have the mental prowess to attack situations from all angles. Also, who wants to be a follower? People should think for themselves more often and stop succumbing themselves to social expectations and norms (go LGBT amirite?). Seriously, why do people fear so much shit...I literally don't give a shit (laugh out loud the fourth).
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
I think it is imperative that you should know...I literally could not give a rat's ass about hierarchies or institutions that establish control around me. If you don't like how the table is set, then turn the table! I own my life and as far as I'm concerned, you're just an animal just like me, so fight me if you really think you deserve to be dominant in this kingdom. I'm learning Jiu Jitsu here soon more so because of theoretical principles behind it, but it would be nice to establish form to all of this power (whatever fucking energy is inside of me that makes me so polarizing). Like I said, I tried the military and I ended up arguing with the Drill Sargents that were supposed to 'fix' me so I could be a more disciplined, responsible person. Funny thing is, everyone should try the Army or Marines for a month. Not because it's something you apply yourself to be in the future, but to reveal to you actually how much inner strength is stored inside of you despite the struggle. Also, just think about Middle Ages for a little bit, no one challenged the authority of the Pope for 1000 years and guess what happened? It was riddled full of tribal warfare, feudal governments, discrimination of ideas, and needless religious wars over a piece of land (is Jerusalem even that cool?). All of that happened because no one challenged the church superpower and exposed their social and financial greed. So, if you ask me, rules are meant to be broken and people that follow them should question the validity of them more often as to be aware of the deception that plagues society on a daily basis.
P.S. For some reason, I have been listening to Rosetta Stoned by Tool for the Last 4 hours and it has been one hell of a biography, so I would really appreciate it if you guys put in as much effort as I did in making this post. My ultimate goal in life is to search for ULTIMATE truth like King Solomon once did.
P.S.S. Tyler Durden is my spirit animal and Princess Rosalina is waifu AF. Good luck in the typing my fellow redditors!
P.S.S.S. Let me know if I had made a grammatical mistake or if I need to clarify a statement. I'm kind of bad at noticing those things because of how much I'm mulling over ideas in my mind.
submitted byHopeful_Seat5266totypeme [link][comments]• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
Spoiler alert inbound...I type myself as ENTX 8w7 854 Sp/Sx; however, just because I think that about myself doesn't mean it's right. I find it easier to discuss ideas or conclusions I've reached with others to increase the probability that what I'm saying is actually true and not BS. I'm exactly 22.5 years of age and constantly changing my outlook on life. My titles are he/him/them if you're wondering, and I really don't care if you call me otherwise. I'm here to share as much as I can about me--good, bad, and ugly--in order for the readers to form a holistic analysis about my type even if it just a Reddit post. I know that what I will type WILL offend some people reading this post and I want to apologize in advance.
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
Even though I've never taken a mental health assessment before, I would like to believe that sometimes I FEEL (which is subjective and probably not true) that I'm either antisocial or a psychopath. I say that because I give off the impression that I'm some murderer or convict when I look or sometimes stare at others for longer than a second. I guess they would assume this about me because of how well I maintain eye contact with them, therefore making them feel vulnerable or exposed. Also, I have a thing where I test others to see if they are real or fake and present multiple 'shit tests' to quickly figure them out; people seem to think that I'm nice until it gets intimate, and then they run away from me. While I think through the consequences of my actions, I seldomly fear failure and never sympathize with the emotional ramifications of those actions taken.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
I would like to believe my father was an ESTP 8w7 and my mother--just as choleric--ESTJ CP 6w7. As you have already guessed, I am a victim of both mental and physical abuse. I have been cut with sharp knives and raped by my father (he went to jail twice and put on a restraining order) in combination with the emotional aloofness brought by my mother. Her attentiveness towards me was proportionally related to my academic and extracurricular achievement. I grew up in a 'Christian' household where my father identified with the popular prosperity gospel and the counterpart using it as social capital. Neither of them actually went to church and behaved quite hypocritically compared to what the Bible actually commands you to do. The familial atmosphere was governed through an authoritarian, conservative point of view and any liberal ideologies proposed by me or my friends were strictly forbidden. It is true that they say, 'Strict parents make for deceptive, rebellious children.'.
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
I currently work as a member (2 months from start date) at my university's (CSU) grounds crew department. It is a glorified title reserved for the landscaper...despite the mentally sedative aspect of working at this job, I truly enjoy that it's a hidden gem where you get to make an impact but never receive the accreditation from your peers. I have also worked at automotive shops, retail, fast-food joints, and warehouses for food banks. I try to add variety in what I do for work for the sole purpose of increasing my understanding about the world and then applying those skills in the future.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
I think it's important to mention that I'm not partial to either spending weekends alone or with others. I can be quite gregarious and manipulate the social atmosphere to understand others more deeply--or to get something out of it--but I prefer focusing on more solitary hobbies when I get the chance. I have this thing that if I die and do not produce something original or pursue something valuable to me, I would assume that I have failed at life. So, to combat this feeling of emptiness, I read as many books as I can (psychology, philosophy, sci-fi, self-help, etc.) to broaden my scope of what this world actually means to me and the aspects of what makes other people tick. I also play bass guitar when I feel inspired or struggle to understand my emotions. Furthermore, my short term goal with this landscaping job is to save roughly $1200 in order to buy an Arturia Keylab (88-key version) keyboard/piano, stand, and a foot pedal. I also like to party with friends SOMETIMES in order to understand myself better in a social environment and experiment with drugs or sex to get those primal instincts out of the way. Some other things to list is that I play video games, socialize and debate with others on discord, or participate in seasonal activities--summer hiking or winter skiing.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
I prefer to engage in activities that either decrease my cortisol levels or activities that I don't understand in order to acquire a better grasp of them. This could be a de-stresser like playing darts with a few friends or a new activity like playing chess with my roommate. Historically, I was never good at sports because I spent more time indoors partaking in indoor hobbies instead of playing sports with others. Obviously, you are going to be bad at sports (or anything really) if you don't practice at getting better playing them. Recently, I have been more involved playing either football or basketball on the weekends and slowly increasing my skill. However, I don't watch sports and if you catch me watching a sports highlight it's because I desired to improve a certain skill. I think watching sports is a waste of time and only holds true to how tribalistic humans can be about their Patriots or Yankees. Sports entertainment is like the devil deceiving the world that they're selling their souls for something worth while, except the consequence is an empty wallet instead of eternal condemnation.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
I'm probably just as curious as an Ne-dom would be. In contrast to what I just typed, I'm highly curious about subjects that will hold some value to me in the future. For example, if the game is chess and I know that I will mostly likely play in an amateur tournament, I will study the fundamental concepts for hours, play a few games, review my mistakes, and continuously apply the most effective mindsets and plays provided by the professionals. Comparatively, I'm not just going to watch a video about Bayesian probability, then read a wiki--maybe 10 articles--about D-Day, then play Sudoku because I got bored about reading copiously the events of D-Day, and then watch cat videos for 2 hours. That doesn't make any sense time-management wise if I'm trying to improve my chess game. The trend that I've noticed is that I prefer researching information and applying my knowledge about abstract topics as most people are oblivious to the topics of discussion or my friends are focused on learning more about it.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
I do not always enjoy being put or automatically exalted as holding the leadership responsibilities of my group. That is because I assume people are intelligent until proven otherwise, in which 90% of the time I'm proven wrong. There are many ways I assume leadership however, through charismatic interactions, leading by example (quite the effective example ;) ), or by my presence alone. The caveat to this is that I'm quite polarizing around others which leads to the majority of them hating me or the few inspired by me, to follow my lead. Very often am I a loner because of my cynical, smart-ass behavior, constantly challenging the logical robustness of my superiors. This summer, I completed basic camp (basic training for ROTC cadets) which was a truncated version of basic training where you get yelled at, droned to follow commands the moment the Drill Sargent raises his mandibles, and uphold the Army values of duty, respect, integrity, 'Oh, you know the thing!'. The problem was that I couldn't handle being a brainless drone and constantly challenged authority resulting in a bad reputation and almost being kicked out 3 times. I eventually quit that shit because I would rather do something more inspiring...than whatever that was. Side note: I don't hate you if you are currently serving or are a veteran who has served in the past. I want to thank you for your contributions--I come from a military family--but it's not for everyone.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
Considering that most likely I do not suffer from the cognitive impacts of Se or Si demon, I am actually quite coordinated. While I'm certainly not an athlete, I do have a grasp of how my body performs and actually use it better under pressure. The distinction of what my physical experience is like is as follows: A jock will weight lift because it makes him look cool in front of his friends and makes him feel more secure about getting the 'bitches'--I don't objectify women and therefore do not sympathize with those choice of words. I, on the other hand, weight lift because 1.) I'm like the guy off of 50 shades of grey and enjoy torturing others and myself (more so mentally concerning others), and 2.) because my telomeres will eventually shorten until my body dies. So, it is imperative to exercise and discipline myself with a good diet in hopes of slowing my body's natural carbon-dating process.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
I used to draw characters from my favorite video games back in high school before I lost my passion for it. I still appreciate art and the main reason I use Instagram is for art appreciation. The art I like is focused more on the anthropological side of things (humans, animals that are designed to look like humans, human symbolism found in objects, etc.). I really like to study humans, both male and female and appreciate studying the sexualization of both sexes (play on words maybe?). I like listening to many genres of music as a means of furthering my understanding of music theory and how I will apply it to my creation of music one day--progressive rock is my favorite genre because the field is quite experimental. I also play music from time to time even though I'm still an amateur. I started off with acoustic guitar, and then tried electric guitar for a bit before gifting it to a friend, then to bass guitar, and hopefully a piano in the next few months. I want to achieve Dave Grohl levels of instrument mastery in hopes (tired of that phrase already) of either forming a band or creating new music focused on the prog rock genre.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
I'm not one to berate any MBTI type because of how they perceive the world. I'm an opportunist who finds value in every function specifically perceiving functions. I think the past is beneficial to me (history, primary documents, laws, maps, cultural beliefs, religion) as it furthers my understanding about the world around me. However, history repeats itself, and I've learned that some traditions are archaic, humans are just animals that can critically think and will do anything in their power to dominate their peers, and that religion is full of shit because it is just a socially engineered hunk of garbage with the intent of mass mind control. I enjoy the present because if you master living in it, you will never be a slave to depression (obsession of the past) or to anxiety (obsession of the future). However, living in the present fully completely negates respect for the consequences of your actions; speeding into a wall, drinking to liver failure, fighting to see who's dick is bigger than who's and ultimately just getting stabbed to death in what was originally a fist fight. Also, living in the present or the past is quite the antithesis to innovation, and that bloody scares me. I enjoy the future because it literally increases your wisdom stats (IQ + Existential Anxiety * Absolute Truth). Constantly thinking about the future essentially matures your being quickly and prepares you for the worst while also effectively looking original. If I do fancy watching YouTube for 2 hours, it is because I want to know about recent developments in engineering, psychology, or art (NO cat videos). Thinking about the future was the essential element that allowed hunter-gatherers a competitive edge in their hostile environment, and because of that, we flex on our natural predators by dropping skyscrapers on top of them. On the other hand, thinking about the future potentially results in anxiety in tandem with inaction, and I despise inaction! Unfortunately, we have too many people on Twitter, Reddit, and Quora thinking about the future and the possibilities it brings instead of just going outside and realizing those ideas. Side note: if you suffer from anxiety, just get off of social media. Twitter comments are just distractions at best, and at worst, point your brain into a neverrending depressive downturn. Basically, too many people base their identity on what others think about them online and they need to stop fucking doing that!
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
I will admit, I have struggled in the past and will probably always struggle with asking for help from others. I really hate being seen as either weak or incompetent in the eyes of others and naturally struggle in isolation to figure something out. This is most likely due to my ego being so self-reliant like it is and, and I envy others for being able to achieve and produce things that I can't. I know this is a digression of the previous statement, but sometimes I just 'google image' famous actors and media stars and just feel envious that I wasn't able to decide my genetic makeup. I don't think I'm particularly unattractive, it's just that my body doesn't match my personality. Anyways, I love using my knowledge and hands-on expertise as a way to connect with others in my life and that is not through words of affirmation but through acts of service. I know that I'm an asshole and active benevolence through my actions is the best way I can help others get through their problems.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
When I make fun of someone else, it is usually because of how illogical or irrational they were behaving. I would reliably consider myself as someone who holds an IQ of 120-130, no less, no more (sorry ego stuff and I want people to give a shit about it). That being said, if I'm always searching for truth which is inherently logical or sound, why would I waste my time pursuing things that are inherently irrational? Most of my friends are rationals...but I also don't have many friends (laugh out loud). For example, when my roommate comes to me with an emotional problem, I will immediately brainstorm all of the LOGICAL ways to solve the problem instead of consoling him in hopes that it will somehow delete the breakup memory in his brain. By utilizing logic, you will most likely find the solution to your problem, but I also know that rationalizing everything will lead to errors in the real-world (social expectations).
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
Let's think about the Volkswagen car brand and why it is so successful...German engineering stands for 'precision in all that we do'. In layman's terms, this means that a driver enters a Volkswagen and touches the steering wheel, they must feel a sense of confidence and precision. Now, let's apply this concept to our daily lives. While I personally don't need to feel successful to be happy, you analyze type 3s and see that they are highly charismatic, competitive, and perfectionistic at everything that they do and that is why they are so liked--and probably why they are so successful. So, something to learn from them is that you actually have to give a damn about what you are doing in life if you want either yourself or others to be satisfied. It also assists building rapport in the leadership department, more people will respect you if you value efficiency productively manage your time. So, why would you be lazy and let life roll you out like a red carpet?
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
Since I spend a lot of my time analyzing and figuring out the environment around me, I don't necessarily demonstrate this dominatrix vibe. This controlling or overwhelming effect that people get from me comes from my body language (intense stare, broad shoulder stance, low voice) and confidence in my mental ability to get something done. Remember how I typed that I was going to write ugly things on this post? Well, people like me when I try to lure them in until they reach intimacy stage with me and then I reveal my true colors. I'm extremely possessive, aggressive, and condescending to those considering to love me. I enjoy BDSM and the darker aspects of brutal sex and a lot of the time, it is too intense for the people that I'm with. Word then gets out and then I'm lonely again, but that's just who I am. Otherwise, I expect to think and do things for themselves convincing me that they are at least superficially competent so I don't have to control them.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
My hobbies were previously stated so I will keep it brief. My social activities involve partying, hiking, rock climbing, biking, and debating (I do not do all of these often), and my isolationist activities revolve around listening to music, playing music, reading books, playing video games, and researching topics of interest (I do this more often).
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
I don't have a set learning style. There are certain things that require visual awareness, hands-on experience, logic building, intuitive ability, and read-write memorization. What do I do most often due to my lifestyle choices? That is the better question to ask. Well, I'm a horrible listener, so auditory learning is a struggle for me. I tend to rely on creative ways to learn things. For example, when learning a language like Russian (I'm still a beginner at it), I practice learning through mnemonic memorization (relating a word from a foreign idea or word to a concretely understood idea or word to deepen understanding of a certain topic). For other things, I just attempt learning through trial and error from what I've brainstormed instead of just googling everything (where's the fun in that?).
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
I have a knack of where I get the idea of something that I need to do without really being able to explain it in words. I just intuitively understand how something works when it's presented to me. I think it's important to plan everything but always have a contingency plan ready or be able to 'wing it' when things go south. I naturally want to see things from a big picture perspective and that is directly tied with the question 'why?'. Sometimes though, I struggle with understanding simple solutions because I forget the steps to say a math problem or changing a tire. So, I have been focusing more on being in-tune with what is presented to me and not just automatically assume I know how to do it. Anyways, while I prefer to plan my projects, I'm also exceptionally good at improvising even if it's emotionally frustrating at times.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
My professional aspirations? I'm currently studying cybersecurity, not necessarily because I like it, but because the job market looks good in that sector. I'm making sure that I live comfortably in order to accomplish the things that I'm actually passionate about. For the last 2 years, I have pursued professional gaming in shooters to no avail as 1.) playing video games for 8-12 hours a day literally fucks your mental health and creates quite an unbalanced lifestyle. and 2.) the games I played (Apex Legends, Overwatch, and R6: Siege) were highly saturated with aspiring pros and streamers and that made me feel unimportant...what I was doing unimportant. It also hampered my progress in university quite a bit and I'm paying the price now. I would rather enjoy learning rock instruments--pianos and violins aren't rock instruments but I want to learn them too--and starting a band at some point. That being said, I would like to, as a professional means, eventually work for the CIA as an intelligence analyst. I desire to know what secrets they're hiding for myself, as sharing confidential information could jeopardize my life.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
I literally don't fear shit. I mean, there was a rat under my bed earlier today and I beat the shit out of it with a broom (laugh out loud until I gagged). Seriously though, when you free your mind from social traditions and religious beliefs (yes, I'm an atheist) you don't even fear death. What I 'fear' is my past, for all of the bad decisions I have made even though it's not threatening to eat me. I suffer from nightmares almost on a nightly basis because of the people I've tortured and ruined in the past. I burned countless bridges with family members and partners alike. I can't help it, I'm extremely selfish and do things for my own gain. If I'm nice to someone, it's truly because the objective yield will leave me better off in the end, or as they say 'The ends justify the means'. Hm, I wonder if what I said actually classifies me as Sx first?
• What do the 'highs' in your life look like?
The high in my life would look like when I consume DMT for the first time and talk to the Jesters about what the meaning of life is about (laugh out loud x3)! Jokes aside, the highs in my life are considered to be the times that I created something unique or accomplished a long-term goal that was set out since adolescence. That I prove myself right to those that have doubted, villainized, and abandoned me in the past because they thought I too was awkward or a complete loser. I guess another 'highs' in my life is that someday, I would ultimately become a well-rounded individual enough so someone would love me without fearing who I used to be (I like INFXs BTW). I guess I do have a fear that no one would love me for who I truly am and that I will live and die as a loner never understood for who he actually was.
• What do the 'lows' in your life look like?
*Just think about what I typed above and infer the opposite, and you'll see what my lows look like...*basically I failed at life in my subjective view of failure. I failed in that I wasn't able to go against the crowd, to prove myself against the masses, that I was unable to find true meaning in what I was pursuing even though the universe has no obligation to make sense to us.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
How do I say this, it's like I'm 60% in my head but 40% in my body. It's like I'm schizotypal (probably incorrect usage of this term) vividly imagining the possible things that could happen in my environment and how they could play out while also seeing what's actually going on in front of me. It's like if you ever watched the movie inception or the matrix, I'm constantly visualizing things that aren't real in order to make life more interesting in a sense or open up the door for more ideas. So yeah, I do daydream a fanatical amount but I can always pull myself back to reality when I need to even if it isn't as inspiring. I wish real life were more like Ready Player One, where I could just open a door and it would a different universe or dimension so I could exercise my escapist fantasies.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
Well, I'm probably a lab rat if I'm stuck in an empty room...I mean do rats realize that they are being experimented on, that the cheese on the other side of the maze isn't just for their enjoyment? Anyways, I have a tendency to talk to myself in order to ensure that my thoughts are logical or what I'm saying is connected to some facet of reality. So, the 'reality' is, I would never get bored because I would probably be making shit up like a child and his Legos would. However, expect me to ask the question 'why' or 'why the fuck am I here and not someone else???'.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
I mean, here's the thing, I'm like the Limitless guy who can think of 100 things and settle on 1 course of action if necessary. However, while I can make decisions, even important decisions quickly, I don't feel comfortable about the fact that I didn't completely explore the other 99 possible solutions that would influence the outcome of that decision. My brain works constantly and I can never shut that damn thing off. This is something slightly off-topic but my brain works faster if it something I'm actually passionate about instead of something streamlined or easy to solve just by googling the answer to the problem. It is almost disrespectful to my intelligence (ego) if someone asked me for help to a problem that a common person could easily solve themselves (How do I know if my tires are flat?).
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
I have a love-hate relationship with emotions in general, not just my own. I feel bad for homeless people but I also know that some of them are just con-artists with a scraggly beard. I think being a gentleman who dresses well would probably get me laid more often but why would I lie to myself? The god that you serve probably makes you happy and I'm glad that you found the motivation to improve yourself, but I still think you're a fool for believing it (scientific revolution and enlightenment baby!). However, I love music and the fact that it will never betray me; that I am able to express the emotions I don't quite understand or want to vocalize in specifics thanks to the culmination of various vibrations that synthesize into a certain rhythm that I like. I like to make music because I know it brings people together and music therapy is something that I'm also interested in. The breakthroughs that come about in that field are quite fascinating to say the least. I want to connect with people in ways that my words never could by making them feel good with my skill and what I was able to create.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
No, did I say no? I must've actually done DMT if I said yes because the sober me would've definitely said NO. I really don't do compromising because I'm not going to let my ideas, intentions, actions, feelings, fall into the hands of someone else. I like to be self-reliant and that is congruent with how I present myself to others. I say things that just piss people off...why would I want to be fake? If I don't agree with what you think or believe, why would I just accept being an idiot? Now, I know what empathy is and when someone, who is in a VULNERABLE position requires it, or someone --who is a type 9--doesn't know how to stand up for themselves (I love type 9s too!), I will step in and educate them on how overcome something and put a smile on top of the banana sundae. I really do sympathize for the underdog but that might just be because I'm always looking for conflict and it's fun fighting for the losing side. That is why I always like to play the devil's advocate when I can because I just have the mental prowess to attack situations from all angles. Also, who wants to be a follower? People should think for themselves more often and stop succumbing themselves to social expectations and norms (go LGBT amirite?). Seriously, why do people fear so much shit...I literally don't give a shit (laugh out loud the fourth).
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
I think it is imperative that you should know...I literally could not give a rat's ass about hierarchies or institutions that establish control around me. If you don't like how the table is set, then turn the table! I own my life and as far as I'm concerned, you're just an animal just like me, so fight me if you really think you deserve to be dominant in this kingdom. I'm learning Jiu Jitsu here soon more so because of theoretical principles behind it, but it would be nice to establish form to all of this power (whatever fucking energy is inside of me that makes me so polarizing). Like I said, I tried the military and I ended up arguing with the Drill Sargents that were supposed to 'fix' me so I could be a more disciplined, responsible person. Funny thing is, everyone should try the Army or Marines for a month. Not because it's something you apply yourself to be in the future, but to reveal to you actually how much inner strength is stored inside of you despite the struggle. Also, just think about Middle Ages for a little bit, no one challenged the authority of the Pope for 1000 years and guess what happened? It was riddled full of tribal warfare, feudal governments, discrimination of ideas, and needless religious wars over a piece of land (is Jerusalem even that cool?). All of that happened because no one challenged the church superpower and exposed their social and financial greed. So, if you ask me, rules are meant to be broken and people that follow them should question the validity of them more often as to be aware of the deception that plagues society on a daily basis.
P.S. For some reason, I have been listening to Rosetta Stoned by Tool for the Last 4 hours and it has been one hell of a biography, so I would really appreciate it if you guys put in as much effort as I did in making this post. My ultimate goal in life is to search for ULTIMATE truth like King Solomon once did.
P.S.S. Tyler Durden is my spirit animal and Princess Rosalina is waifu AF. Good luck in the typing my fellow redditors!
P.S.S.S. Let me know if I had made a grammatical mistake or if I need to clarify a statement. I'm kind of bad at noticing those things because of how much I'm mulling over ideas in my mind.
2021.12.22 05:26 Hopeful_Seat5266Just another another individual confused about their typing...use ANY means necessary to type me (MBTI, Enneagram, Attitudinal Psyche, Temperaments, etc.).
Some people find it easier to identify others through visual typing (Ni gaze, Ne scattered eyes, etc.)...this may help them reach a conclusion or get a certain 'vibe' from me.
• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
Spoiler alert inbound...I type myself as ENTX 8w7 854 Sp/Sx; however, just because I think that about myself doesn't mean it's right. I find it easier to discuss ideas or conclusions I've reached with others to increase the probability that what I'm saying is actually true and not BS. I'm exactly 22.5 years of age and constantly changing my outlook on life. My titles are he/him/them if you're wondering, and I really don't care if you call me otherwise. I'm here to share as much as I can about me--good, bad, and ugly--in order for the readers to form a holistic analysis about my type even if it just a Reddit post. I know that what I will type WILL offend some people reading this post and I want to apologize in advance.
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
Even though I've never taken a mental health assessment before, I would like to believe that sometimes I FEEL (which is subjective and probably not true) that I'm either antisocial or a psychopath. I say that because I give off the impression that I'm some murderer or convict when I look or sometimes stare at others for longer than a second. I guess they would assume this about me because of how well I maintain eye contact with them, therefore making them feel vulnerable or exposed. Also, I have a thing where I test others to see if they are real or fake and present multiple 'shit tests' to quickly figure them out; people seem to think that I'm nice until it gets intimate, and then they run away from me. While I think through the consequences of my actions, I seldomly fear failure and never sympathize with the emotional ramifications of those actions taken.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
I would like to believe my father was an ESTP 8w7 and my mother--just as choleric--ESTJ CP 6w7. As you have already guessed, I am a victim of both mental and physical abuse. I have been cut with sharp knives and raped by my father (he went to jail twice and put on a restraining order) in combination with the emotional aloofness brought by my mother. Her attentiveness towards me was proportionally related to my academic and extracurricular achievement. I grew up in a 'Christian' household where my father identified with the popular prosperity gospel and the counterpart using it as social capital. Neither of them actually went to church and behaved quite hypocritically compared to what the Bible actually commands you to do. The familial atmosphere was governed through an authoritarian, conservative point of view and any liberal ideologies proposed by me or my friends were strictly forbidden. It is true that they say, 'Strict parents make for deceptive, rebellious children.'.
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
I currently work as a member (2 months from start date) at my university's (CSU) grounds crew department. It is a glorified title reserved for the landscaper...despite the mentally sedative aspect of working at this job, I truly enjoy that it's a hidden gem where you get to make an impact but never receive the accreditation from your peers. I have also worked at automotive shops, retail, fast-food joints, and warehouses for food banks. I try to add variety in what I do for work for the sole purpose of increasing my understanding about the world and then applying those skills in the future.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
I think it's important to mention that I'm not partial to either spending weekends alone or with others. I can be quite gregarious and manipulate the social atmosphere to understand others more deeply--or to get something out of it--but I prefer focusing on more solitary hobbies when I get the chance. I have this thing that if I die and do not produce something original or pursue something valuable to me, I would assume that I have failed at life. So, to combat this feeling of emptiness, I read as many books as I can (psychology, philosophy, sci-fi, self-help, etc.) to broaden my scope of what this world actually means to me and the aspects of what makes other people tick. I also play bass guitar when I feel inspired or struggle to understand my emotions. Furthermore, my short term goal with this landscaping job is to save roughly $1200 in order to buy an Arturia Keylab (88-key version) keyboard/piano, stand, and a foot pedal. I also like to party with friends SOMETIMES in order to understand myself better in a social environment and experiment with drugs or sex to get those primal instincts out of the way. Some other things to list is that I play video games, socialize and debate with others on discord, or participate in seasonal activities--summer hiking or winter skiing.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
I prefer to engage in activities that either decrease my cortisol levels or activities that I don't understand in order to acquire a better grasp of them. This could be a de-stresser like playing darts with a few friends or a new activity like playing chess with my roommate. Historically, I was never good at sports because I spent more time indoors partaking in indoor hobbies instead of playing sports with others. Obviously, you are going to be bad at sports (or anything really) if you don't practice at getting better playing them. Recently, I have been more involved playing either football or basketball on the weekends and slowly increasing my skill. However, I don't watch sports and if you catch me watching a sports highlight it's because I desired to improve a certain skill. I think watching sports is a waste of time and only holds true to how tribalistic humans can be about their Patriots or Yankees. Sports entertainment is like the devil deceiving the world that they're selling their souls for something worth while, except the consequence is an empty wallet instead of eternal condemnation.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
I'm probably just as curious as an Ne-dom would be. In contrast to what I just typed, I'm highly curious about subjects that will hold some value to me in the future. For example, if the game is chess and I know that I will mostly likely play in an amateur tournament, I will study the fundamental concepts for hours, play a few games, review my mistakes, and continuously apply the most effective mindsets and plays provided by the professionals. Comparatively, I'm not just going to watch a video about Bayesian probability, then read a wiki--maybe 10 articles--about D-Day, then play Sudoku because I got bored about reading copiously the events of D-Day, and then watch cat videos for 2 hours. That doesn't make any sense time-management wise if I'm trying to improve my chess game. The trend that I've noticed is that I prefer researching information and applying my knowledge about abstract topics as most people are oblivious to the topics of discussion or my friends are focused on learning more about it.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
I do not always enjoy being put or automatically exalted as holding the leadership responsibilities of my group. That is because I assume people are intelligent until proven otherwise, in which 90% of the time I'm proven wrong. There are many ways I assume leadership however, through charismatic interactions, leading by example (quite the effective example ;) ), or by my presence alone. The caveat to this is that I'm quite polarizing around others which leads to the majority of them hating me or the few inspired by me, to follow my lead. Very often am I a loner because of my cynical, smart-ass behavior, constantly challenging the logical robustness of my superiors. This summer, I completed basic camp (basic training for ROTC cadets) which was a truncated version of basic training where you get yelled at, droned to follow commands the moment the Drill Sargent raises his mandibles, and uphold the Army values of duty, respect, integrity, 'Oh, you know the thing!'. The problem was that I couldn't handle being a brainless drone and constantly challenged authority resulting in a bad reputation and almost being kicked out 3 times. I eventually quit that shit because I would rather do something more inspiring...than whatever that was. Side note: I don't hate you if you are currently serving or are a veteran who has served in the past. I want to thank you for your contributions--I come from a military family--but it's not for everyone.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
Considering that most likely I do not suffer from the cognitive impacts of Se or Si demon, I am actually quite coordinated. While I'm certainly not an athlete, I do have a grasp of how my body performs and actually use it better under pressure. The distinction of what my physical experience is like is as follows: A jock will weight lift because it makes him look cool in front of his friends and makes him feel more secure about getting the 'bitches'--I don't objectify women and therefore do not sympathize with those choice of words. I, on the other hand, weight lift because 1.) I'm like the guy off of 50 shades of grey and enjoy torturing others and myself (more so mentally concerning others), and 2.) because my telomeres will eventually shorten until my body dies. So, it is imperative to exercise and discipline myself with a good diet in hopes of slowing my body's natural carbon-dating process.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
I used to draw characters from my favorite video games back in high school before I lost my passion for it. I still appreciate art and the main reason I use Instagram is for art appreciation. The art I like is focused more on the anthropological side of things (humans, animals that are designed to look like humans, human symbolism found in objects, etc.). I really like to study humans, both male and female and appreciate studying the sexualization of both sexes (play on words maybe?). I like listening to many genres of music as a means of furthering my understanding of music theory and how I will apply it to my creation of music one day--progressive rock is my favorite genre because the field is quite experimental. I also play music from time to time even though I'm still an amateur. I started off with acoustic guitar, and then tried electric guitar for a bit before gifting it to a friend, then to bass guitar, and hopefully a piano in the next few months. I want to achieve Dave Grohl levels of instrument mastery in hopes (tired of that phrase already) of either forming a band or creating new music focused on the prog rock genre.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
I'm not one to berate any MBTI type because of how they perceive the world. I'm an opportunist who finds value in every function specifically perceiving functions. I think the past is beneficial to me (history, primary documents, laws, maps, cultural beliefs, religion) as it furthers my understanding about the world around me. However, history repeats itself, and I've learned that some traditions are archaic, humans are just animals that can critically think and will do anything in their power to dominate their peers, and that religion is full of shit because it is just a socially engineered hunk of garbage with the intent of mass mind control. I enjoy the present because if you master living in it, you will never be a slave to depression (obsession of the past) or to anxiety (obsession of the future). However, living in the present fully completely negates respect for the consequences of your actions; speeding into a wall, drinking to liver failure, fighting to see who's dick is bigger than who's and ultimately just getting stabbed to death in what was originally a fist fight. Also, living in the present or the past is quite the antithesis to innovation, and that bloody scares me. I enjoy the future because it literally increases your wisdom stats (IQ + Existential Anxiety * Absolute Truth). Constantly thinking about the future essentially matures your being quickly and prepares you for the worst while also effectively looking original. If I do fancy watching YouTube for 2 hours, it is because I want to know about recent developments in engineering, psychology, or art (NO cat videos). Thinking about the future was the essential element that allowed hunter-gatherers a competitive edge in their hostile environment, and because of that, we flex on our natural predators by dropping skyscrapers on top of them. On the other hand, thinking about the future potentially results in anxiety in tandem with inaction, and I despise inaction! Unfortunately, we have too many people on Twitter, Reddit, and Quora thinking about the future and the possibilities it brings instead of just going outside and realizing those ideas. Side note: if you suffer from anxiety, just get off of social media. Twitter comments are just distractions at best, and at worst, point your brain into a neverrending depressive downturn. Basically, too many people base their identity on what others think about them online and they need to stop fucking doing that!
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
I will admit, I have struggled in the past and will probably always struggle with asking for help from others. I really hate being seen as either weak or incompetent in the eyes of others and naturally struggle in isolation to figure something out. This is most likely due to my ego being so self-reliant like it is and, and I envy others for being able to achieve and produce things that I can't. I know this is a digression of the previous statement, but sometimes I just 'google image' famous actors and media stars and just feel envious that I wasn't able to decide my genetic makeup. I don't think I'm particularly unattractive, it's just that my body doesn't match my personality. Anyways, I love using my knowledge and hands-on expertise as a way to connect with others in my life and that is not through words of affirmation but through acts of service. I know that I'm an asshole and active benevolence through my actions is the best way I can help others get through their problems.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
When I make fun of someone else, it is usually because of how illogical or irrational they were behaving. I would reliably consider myself as someone who holds an IQ of 120-130, no less, no more (sorry ego stuff and I want people to give a shit about it). That being said, if I'm always searching for truth which is inherently logical or sound, why would I waste my time pursuing things that are inherently irrational? Most of my friends are rationals...but I also don't have many friends (laugh out loud). For example, when my roommate comes to me with an emotional problem, I will immediately brainstorm all of the LOGICAL ways to solve the problem instead of consoling him in hopes that it will somehow delete the breakup memory in his brain. By utilizing logic, you will most likely find the solution to your problem, but I also know that rationalizing everything will lead to errors in the real-world (social expectations).
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
Let's think about the Volkswagen car brand and why it is so successful...German engineering stands for 'precision in all that we do'. In layman's terms, this means that a driver enters a Volkswagen and touches the steering wheel, they must feel a sense of confidence and precision. Now, let's apply this concept to our daily lives. While I personally don't need to feel successful to be happy, you analyze type 3s and see that they are highly charismatic, competitive, and perfectionistic at everything that they do and that is why they are so liked--and probably why they are so successful. So, something to learn from them is that you actually have to give a damn about what you are doing in life if you want either yourself or others to be satisfied. It also assists building rapport in the leadership department, more people will respect you if you value efficiency productively manage your time. So, why would you be lazy and let life roll you out like a red carpet?
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
Since I spend a lot of my time analyzing and figuring out the environment around me, I don't necessarily demonstrate this dominatrix vibe. This controlling or overwhelming effect that people get from me comes from my body language (intense stare, broad shoulder stance, low voice) and confidence in my mental ability to get something done. Remember how I typed that I was going to write ugly things on this post? Well, people like me when I try to lure them in until they reach intimacy stage with me and then I reveal my true colors. I'm extremely possessive, aggressive, and condescending to those considering to love me. I enjoy BDSM and the darker aspects of brutal sex and a lot of the time, it is too intense for the people that I'm with. Word then gets out and then I'm lonely again, but that's just who I am. Otherwise, I expect to think and do things for themselves convincing me that they are at least superficially competent so I don't have to control them.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
My hobbies were previously stated so I will keep it brief. My social activities involve partying, hiking, rock climbing, biking, and debating (I do not do all of these often), and my isolationist activities revolve around listening to music, playing music, reading books, playing video games, and researching topics of interest (I do this more often).
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
I don't have a set learning style. There are certain things that require visual awareness, hands-on experience, logic building, intuitive ability, and read-write memorization. What do I do most often due to my lifestyle choices? That is the better question to ask. Well, I'm a horrible listener, so auditory learning is a struggle for me. I tend to rely on creative ways to learn things. For example, when learning a language like Russian (I'm still a beginner at it), I practice learning through mnemonic memorization (relating a word from a foreign idea or word to a concretely understood idea or word to deepen understanding of a certain topic). For other things, I just attempt learning through trial and error from what I've brainstormed instead of just googling everything (where's the fun in that?).
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
I have a knack of where I get the idea of something that I need to do without really being able to explain it in words. I just intuitively understand how something works when it's presented to me. I think it's important to plan everything but always have a contingency plan ready or be able to 'wing it' when things go south. I naturally want to see things from a big picture perspective and that is directly tied with the question 'why?'. Sometimes though, I struggle with understanding simple solutions because I forget the steps to say a math problem or changing a tire. So, I have been focusing more on being in-tune with what is presented to me and not just automatically assume I know how to do it. Anyways, while I prefer to plan my projects, I'm also exceptionally good at improvising even if it's emotionally frustrating at times.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
My professional aspirations? I'm currently studying cybersecurity, not necessarily because I like it, but because the job market looks good in that sector. I'm making sure that I live comfortably in order to accomplish the things that I'm actually passionate about. For the last 2 years, I have pursued professional gaming in shooters to no avail as 1.) playing video games for 8-12 hours a day literally fucks your mental health and creates quite an unbalanced lifestyle. and 2.) the games I played (Apex Legends, Overwatch, and R6: Siege) were highly saturated with aspiring pros and streamers and that made me feel unimportant...what I was doing unimportant. It also hampered my progress in university quite a bit and I'm paying the price now. I would rather enjoy learning rock instruments--pianos and violins aren't rock instruments but I want to learn them too--and starting a band at some point. That being said, I would like to, as a professional means, eventually work for the CIA as an intelligence analyst. I desire to know what secrets they're hiding for myself, as sharing confidential information could jeopardize my life.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
I literally don't fear shit. I mean, there was a rat under my bed earlier today and I beat the shit out of it with a broom (laugh out loud until I gagged). Seriously though, when you free your mind from social traditions and religious beliefs (yes, I'm an atheist) you don't even fear death. What I 'fear' is my past, for all of the bad decisions I have made even though it's not threatening to eat me. I suffer from nightmares almost on a nightly basis because of the people I've tortured and ruined in the past. I burned countless bridges with family members and partners alike. I can't help it, I'm extremely selfish and do things for my own gain. If I'm nice to someone, it's truly because the objective yield will leave me better off in the end, or as they say 'The ends justify the means'. Hm, I wonder if what I said actually classifies me as Sx first?
• What do the 'highs' in your life look like?
The high in my life would look like when I consume DMT for the first time and talk to the Jesters about what the meaning of life is about (laugh out loud x3)! Jokes aside, the highs in my life are considered to be the times that I created something unique or accomplished a long-term goal that was set out since adolescence. That I prove myself right to those that have doubted, villainized, and abandoned me in the past because they thought I too was awkward or a complete loser. I guess another 'highs' in my life is that someday, I would ultimately become a well-rounded individual enough so someone would love me without fearing who I used to be (I like INFXs BTW). I guess I do have a fear that no one would love me for who I truly am and that I will live and die as a loner never understood for who he actually was.
• What do the 'lows' in your life look like?
*Just think about what I typed above and infer the opposite, and you'll see what my lows look like...*basically I failed at life in my subjective view of failure. I failed in that I wasn't able to go against the crowd, to prove myself against the masses, that I was unable to find true meaning in what I was pursuing even though the universe has no obligation to make sense to us.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
How do I say this, it's like I'm 60% in my head but 40% in my body. It's like I'm schizotypal (probably incorrect usage of this term) vividly imagining the possible things that could happen in my environment and how they could play out while also seeing what's actually going on in front of me. It's like if you ever watched the movie inception or the matrix, I'm constantly visualizing things that aren't real in order to make life more interesting in a sense or open up the door for more ideas. So yeah, I do daydream a fanatical amount but I can always pull myself back to reality when I need to even if it isn't as inspiring. I wish real life were more like Ready Player One, where I could just open a door and it would a different universe or dimension so I could exercise my escapist fantasies.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
Well, I'm probably a lab rat if I'm stuck in an empty room...I mean do rats realize that they are being experimented on, that the cheese on the other side of the maze isn't just for their enjoyment? Anyways, I have a tendency to talk to myself in order to ensure that my thoughts are logical or what I'm saying is connected to some facet of reality. So, the 'reality' is, I would never get bored because I would probably be making shit up like a child and his Legos would. However, expect me to ask the question 'why' or 'why the fuck am I here and not someone else???'.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
I mean, here's the thing, I'm like the Limitless guy who can think of 100 things and settle on 1 course of action if necessary. However, while I can make decisions, even important decisions quickly, I don't feel comfortable about the fact that I didn't completely explore the other 99 possible solutions that would influence the outcome of that decision. My brain works constantly and I can never shut that damn thing off. This is something slightly off-topic but my brain works faster if it something I'm actually passionate about instead of something streamlined or easy to solve just by googling the answer to the problem. It is almost disrespectful to my intelligence (ego) if someone asked me for help to a problem that a common person could easily solve themselves (How do I know if my tires are flat?).
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
I have a love-hate relationship with emotions in general, not just my own. I feel bad for homeless people but I also know that some of them are just con-artists with a scraggly beard. I think being a gentleman who dresses well would probably get me laid more often but why would I lie to myself? The god that you serve probably makes you happy and I'm glad that you found the motivation to improve yourself, but I still think you're a fool for believing it (scientific revolution and enlightenment baby!). However, I love music and the fact that it will never betray me; that I am able to express the emotions I don't quite understand or want to vocalize in specifics thanks to the culmination of various vibrations that synthesize into a certain rhythm that I like. I like to make music because I know it brings people together and music therapy is something that I'm also interested in. The breakthroughs that come about in that field are quite fascinating to say the least. I want to connect with people in ways that my words never could by making them feel good with my skill and what I was able to create.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
No, did I say no? I must've actually done DMT if I said yes because the sober me would've definitely said NO. I really don't do compromising because I'm not going to let my ideas, intentions, actions, feelings, fall into the hands of someone else. I like to be self-reliant and that is congruent with how I present myself to others. I say things that just piss people off...why would I want to be fake? If I don't agree with what you think or believe, why would I just accept being an idiot? Now, I know what empathy is and when someone, who is in a VULNERABLE position requires it, or someone --who is a type 9--doesn't know how to stand up for themselves (I love type 9s too!), I will step in and educate them on how overcome something and put a smile on top of the banana sundae. I really do sympathize for the underdog but that might just be because I'm always looking for conflict and it's fun fighting for the losing side. That is why I always like to play the devil's advocate when I can because I just have the mental prowess to attack situations from all angles. Also, who wants to be a follower? People should think for themselves more often and stop succumbing themselves to social expectations and norms (go LGBT amirite?). Seriously, why do people fear so much shit...I literally don't give a shit (laugh out loud the fourth).
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
I think it is imperative that you should know...I literally could not give a rat's ass about hierarchies or institutions that establish control around me. If you don't like how the table is set, then turn the table! I own my life and as far as I'm concerned, you're just an animal just like me, so fight me if you really think you deserve to be dominant in this kingdom. I'm learning Jiu Jitsu here soon more so because of theoretical principles behind it, but it would be nice to establish form to all of this power (whatever fucking energy is inside of me that makes me so polarizing). Like I said, I tried the military and I ended up arguing with the Drill Sargents that were supposed to 'fix' me so I could be a more disciplined, responsible person. Funny thing is, everyone should try the Army or Marines for a month. Not because it's something you apply yourself to be in the future, but to reveal to you actually how much inner strength is stored inside of you despite the struggle. Also, just think about Middle Ages for a little bit, no one challenged the authority of the Pope for 1000 years and guess what happened? It was riddled full of tribal warfare, feudal governments, discrimination of ideas, and needless religious wars over a piece of land (is Jerusalem even that cool?). All of that happened because no one challenged the church superpower and exposed their social and financial greed. So, if you ask me, rules are meant to be broken and people that follow them should question the validity of them more often as to be aware of the deception that plagues society on a daily basis.
P.S. For some reason, I have been listening to Rosetta Stoned by Tool for the Last 4 hours and it has been one hell of a biography, so I would really appreciate it if you guys put in as much effort as I did in making this post. My ultimate goal in life is to search for ULTIMATE truth like King Solomon once did.
P.S.S. Tyler Durden is my spirit animal and Princess Rosalina is waifu AF. Good luck in the typing my fellow redditors!
P.S.S.S. Let me know if I had made a grammatical mistake or if I need to clarify a statement. I'm kind of bad at noticing those things because of how much I'm mulling over ideas in my mind.
submitted byHopeful_Seat5266toMbtiTypeMe [link][comments]• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
Spoiler alert inbound...I type myself as ENTX 8w7 854 Sp/Sx; however, just because I think that about myself doesn't mean it's right. I find it easier to discuss ideas or conclusions I've reached with others to increase the probability that what I'm saying is actually true and not BS. I'm exactly 22.5 years of age and constantly changing my outlook on life. My titles are he/him/them if you're wondering, and I really don't care if you call me otherwise. I'm here to share as much as I can about me--good, bad, and ugly--in order for the readers to form a holistic analysis about my type even if it just a Reddit post. I know that what I will type WILL offend some people reading this post and I want to apologize in advance.
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
Even though I've never taken a mental health assessment before, I would like to believe that sometimes I FEEL (which is subjective and probably not true) that I'm either antisocial or a psychopath. I say that because I give off the impression that I'm some murderer or convict when I look or sometimes stare at others for longer than a second. I guess they would assume this about me because of how well I maintain eye contact with them, therefore making them feel vulnerable or exposed. Also, I have a thing where I test others to see if they are real or fake and present multiple 'shit tests' to quickly figure them out; people seem to think that I'm nice until it gets intimate, and then they run away from me. While I think through the consequences of my actions, I seldomly fear failure and never sympathize with the emotional ramifications of those actions taken.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
I would like to believe my father was an ESTP 8w7 and my mother--just as choleric--ESTJ CP 6w7. As you have already guessed, I am a victim of both mental and physical abuse. I have been cut with sharp knives and raped by my father (he went to jail twice and put on a restraining order) in combination with the emotional aloofness brought by my mother. Her attentiveness towards me was proportionally related to my academic and extracurricular achievement. I grew up in a 'Christian' household where my father identified with the popular prosperity gospel and the counterpart using it as social capital. Neither of them actually went to church and behaved quite hypocritically compared to what the Bible actually commands you to do. The familial atmosphere was governed through an authoritarian, conservative point of view and any liberal ideologies proposed by me or my friends were strictly forbidden. It is true that they say, 'Strict parents make for deceptive, rebellious children.'.
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
I currently work as a member (2 months from start date) at my university's (CSU) grounds crew department. It is a glorified title reserved for the landscaper...despite the mentally sedative aspect of working at this job, I truly enjoy that it's a hidden gem where you get to make an impact but never receive the accreditation from your peers. I have also worked at automotive shops, retail, fast-food joints, and warehouses for food banks. I try to add variety in what I do for work for the sole purpose of increasing my understanding about the world and then applying those skills in the future.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
I think it's important to mention that I'm not partial to either spending weekends alone or with others. I can be quite gregarious and manipulate the social atmosphere to understand others more deeply--or to get something out of it--but I prefer focusing on more solitary hobbies when I get the chance. I have this thing that if I die and do not produce something original or pursue something valuable to me, I would assume that I have failed at life. So, to combat this feeling of emptiness, I read as many books as I can (psychology, philosophy, sci-fi, self-help, etc.) to broaden my scope of what this world actually means to me and the aspects of what makes other people tick. I also play bass guitar when I feel inspired or struggle to understand my emotions. Furthermore, my short term goal with this landscaping job is to save roughly $1200 in order to buy an Arturia Keylab (88-key version) keyboard/piano, stand, and a foot pedal. I also like to party with friends SOMETIMES in order to understand myself better in a social environment and experiment with drugs or sex to get those primal instincts out of the way. Some other things to list is that I play video games, socialize and debate with others on discord, or participate in seasonal activities--summer hiking or winter skiing.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
I prefer to engage in activities that either decrease my cortisol levels or activities that I don't understand in order to acquire a better grasp of them. This could be a de-stresser like playing darts with a few friends or a new activity like playing chess with my roommate. Historically, I was never good at sports because I spent more time indoors partaking in indoor hobbies instead of playing sports with others. Obviously, you are going to be bad at sports (or anything really) if you don't practice at getting better playing them. Recently, I have been more involved playing either football or basketball on the weekends and slowly increasing my skill. However, I don't watch sports and if you catch me watching a sports highlight it's because I desired to improve a certain skill. I think watching sports is a waste of time and only holds true to how tribalistic humans can be about their Patriots or Yankees. Sports entertainment is like the devil deceiving the world that they're selling their souls for something worth while, except the consequence is an empty wallet instead of eternal condemnation.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
I'm probably just as curious as an Ne-dom would be. In contrast to what I just typed, I'm highly curious about subjects that will hold some value to me in the future. For example, if the game is chess and I know that I will mostly likely play in an amateur tournament, I will study the fundamental concepts for hours, play a few games, review my mistakes, and continuously apply the most effective mindsets and plays provided by the professionals. Comparatively, I'm not just going to watch a video about Bayesian probability, then read a wiki--maybe 10 articles--about D-Day, then play Sudoku because I got bored about reading copiously the events of D-Day, and then watch cat videos for 2 hours. That doesn't make any sense time-management wise if I'm trying to improve my chess game. The trend that I've noticed is that I prefer researching information and applying my knowledge about abstract topics as most people are oblivious to the topics of discussion or my friends are focused on learning more about it.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
I do not always enjoy being put or automatically exalted as holding the leadership responsibilities of my group. That is because I assume people are intelligent until proven otherwise, in which 90% of the time I'm proven wrong. There are many ways I assume leadership however, through charismatic interactions, leading by example (quite the effective example ;) ), or by my presence alone. The caveat to this is that I'm quite polarizing around others which leads to the majority of them hating me or the few inspired by me, to follow my lead. Very often am I a loner because of my cynical, smart-ass behavior, constantly challenging the logical robustness of my superiors. This summer, I completed basic camp (basic training for ROTC cadets) which was a truncated version of basic training where you get yelled at, droned to follow commands the moment the Drill Sargent raises his mandibles, and uphold the Army values of duty, respect, integrity, 'Oh, you know the thing!'. The problem was that I couldn't handle being a brainless drone and constantly challenged authority resulting in a bad reputation and almost being kicked out 3 times. I eventually quit that shit because I would rather do something more inspiring...than whatever that was. Side note: I don't hate you if you are currently serving or are a veteran who has served in the past. I want to thank you for your contributions--I come from a military family--but it's not for everyone.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
Considering that most likely I do not suffer from the cognitive impacts of Se or Si demon, I am actually quite coordinated. While I'm certainly not an athlete, I do have a grasp of how my body performs and actually use it better under pressure. The distinction of what my physical experience is like is as follows: A jock will weight lift because it makes him look cool in front of his friends and makes him feel more secure about getting the 'bitches'--I don't objectify women and therefore do not sympathize with those choice of words. I, on the other hand, weight lift because 1.) I'm like the guy off of 50 shades of grey and enjoy torturing others and myself (more so mentally concerning others), and 2.) because my telomeres will eventually shorten until my body dies. So, it is imperative to exercise and discipline myself with a good diet in hopes of slowing my body's natural carbon-dating process.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
I used to draw characters from my favorite video games back in high school before I lost my passion for it. I still appreciate art and the main reason I use Instagram is for art appreciation. The art I like is focused more on the anthropological side of things (humans, animals that are designed to look like humans, human symbolism found in objects, etc.). I really like to study humans, both male and female and appreciate studying the sexualization of both sexes (play on words maybe?). I like listening to many genres of music as a means of furthering my understanding of music theory and how I will apply it to my creation of music one day--progressive rock is my favorite genre because the field is quite experimental. I also play music from time to time even though I'm still an amateur. I started off with acoustic guitar, and then tried electric guitar for a bit before gifting it to a friend, then to bass guitar, and hopefully a piano in the next few months. I want to achieve Dave Grohl levels of instrument mastery in hopes (tired of that phrase already) of either forming a band or creating new music focused on the prog rock genre.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
I'm not one to berate any MBTI type because of how they perceive the world. I'm an opportunist who finds value in every function specifically perceiving functions. I think the past is beneficial to me (history, primary documents, laws, maps, cultural beliefs, religion) as it furthers my understanding about the world around me. However, history repeats itself, and I've learned that some traditions are archaic, humans are just animals that can critically think and will do anything in their power to dominate their peers, and that religion is full of shit because it is just a socially engineered hunk of garbage with the intent of mass mind control. I enjoy the present because if you master living in it, you will never be a slave to depression (obsession of the past) or to anxiety (obsession of the future). However, living in the present fully completely negates respect for the consequences of your actions; speeding into a wall, drinking to liver failure, fighting to see who's dick is bigger than who's and ultimately just getting stabbed to death in what was originally a fist fight. Also, living in the present or the past is quite the antithesis to innovation, and that bloody scares me. I enjoy the future because it literally increases your wisdom stats (IQ + Existential Anxiety * Absolute Truth). Constantly thinking about the future essentially matures your being quickly and prepares you for the worst while also effectively looking original. If I do fancy watching YouTube for 2 hours, it is because I want to know about recent developments in engineering, psychology, or art (NO cat videos). Thinking about the future was the essential element that allowed hunter-gatherers a competitive edge in their hostile environment, and because of that, we flex on our natural predators by dropping skyscrapers on top of them. On the other hand, thinking about the future potentially results in anxiety in tandem with inaction, and I despise inaction! Unfortunately, we have too many people on Twitter, Reddit, and Quora thinking about the future and the possibilities it brings instead of just going outside and realizing those ideas. Side note: if you suffer from anxiety, just get off of social media. Twitter comments are just distractions at best, and at worst, point your brain into a neverrending depressive downturn. Basically, too many people base their identity on what others think about them online and they need to stop fucking doing that!
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
I will admit, I have struggled in the past and will probably always struggle with asking for help from others. I really hate being seen as either weak or incompetent in the eyes of others and naturally struggle in isolation to figure something out. This is most likely due to my ego being so self-reliant like it is and, and I envy others for being able to achieve and produce things that I can't. I know this is a digression of the previous statement, but sometimes I just 'google image' famous actors and media stars and just feel envious that I wasn't able to decide my genetic makeup. I don't think I'm particularly unattractive, it's just that my body doesn't match my personality. Anyways, I love using my knowledge and hands-on expertise as a way to connect with others in my life and that is not through words of affirmation but through acts of service. I know that I'm an asshole and active benevolence through my actions is the best way I can help others get through their problems.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
When I make fun of someone else, it is usually because of how illogical or irrational they were behaving. I would reliably consider myself as someone who holds an IQ of 120-130, no less, no more (sorry ego stuff and I want people to give a shit about it). That being said, if I'm always searching for truth which is inherently logical or sound, why would I waste my time pursuing things that are inherently irrational? Most of my friends are rationals...but I also don't have many friends (laugh out loud). For example, when my roommate comes to me with an emotional problem, I will immediately brainstorm all of the LOGICAL ways to solve the problem instead of consoling him in hopes that it will somehow delete the breakup memory in his brain. By utilizing logic, you will most likely find the solution to your problem, but I also know that rationalizing everything will lead to errors in the real-world (social expectations).
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
Let's think about the Volkswagen car brand and why it is so successful...German engineering stands for 'precision in all that we do'. In layman's terms, this means that a driver enters a Volkswagen and touches the steering wheel, they must feel a sense of confidence and precision. Now, let's apply this concept to our daily lives. While I personally don't need to feel successful to be happy, you analyze type 3s and see that they are highly charismatic, competitive, and perfectionistic at everything that they do and that is why they are so liked--and probably why they are so successful. So, something to learn from them is that you actually have to give a damn about what you are doing in life if you want either yourself or others to be satisfied. It also assists building rapport in the leadership department, more people will respect you if you value efficiency productively manage your time. So, why would you be lazy and let life roll you out like a red carpet?
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
Since I spend a lot of my time analyzing and figuring out the environment around me, I don't necessarily demonstrate this dominatrix vibe. This controlling or overwhelming effect that people get from me comes from my body language (intense stare, broad shoulder stance, low voice) and confidence in my mental ability to get something done. Remember how I typed that I was going to write ugly things on this post? Well, people like me when I try to lure them in until they reach intimacy stage with me and then I reveal my true colors. I'm extremely possessive, aggressive, and condescending to those considering to love me. I enjoy BDSM and the darker aspects of brutal sex and a lot of the time, it is too intense for the people that I'm with. Word then gets out and then I'm lonely again, but that's just who I am. Otherwise, I expect to think and do things for themselves convincing me that they are at least superficially competent so I don't have to control them.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
My hobbies were previously stated so I will keep it brief. My social activities involve partying, hiking, rock climbing, biking, and debating (I do not do all of these often), and my isolationist activities revolve around listening to music, playing music, reading books, playing video games, and researching topics of interest (I do this more often).
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
I don't have a set learning style. There are certain things that require visual awareness, hands-on experience, logic building, intuitive ability, and read-write memorization. What do I do most often due to my lifestyle choices? That is the better question to ask. Well, I'm a horrible listener, so auditory learning is a struggle for me. I tend to rely on creative ways to learn things. For example, when learning a language like Russian (I'm still a beginner at it), I practice learning through mnemonic memorization (relating a word from a foreign idea or word to a concretely understood idea or word to deepen understanding of a certain topic). For other things, I just attempt learning through trial and error from what I've brainstormed instead of just googling everything (where's the fun in that?).
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
I have a knack of where I get the idea of something that I need to do without really being able to explain it in words. I just intuitively understand how something works when it's presented to me. I think it's important to plan everything but always have a contingency plan ready or be able to 'wing it' when things go south. I naturally want to see things from a big picture perspective and that is directly tied with the question 'why?'. Sometimes though, I struggle with understanding simple solutions because I forget the steps to say a math problem or changing a tire. So, I have been focusing more on being in-tune with what is presented to me and not just automatically assume I know how to do it. Anyways, while I prefer to plan my projects, I'm also exceptionally good at improvising even if it's emotionally frustrating at times.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
My professional aspirations? I'm currently studying cybersecurity, not necessarily because I like it, but because the job market looks good in that sector. I'm making sure that I live comfortably in order to accomplish the things that I'm actually passionate about. For the last 2 years, I have pursued professional gaming in shooters to no avail as 1.) playing video games for 8-12 hours a day literally fucks your mental health and creates quite an unbalanced lifestyle. and 2.) the games I played (Apex Legends, Overwatch, and R6: Siege) were highly saturated with aspiring pros and streamers and that made me feel unimportant...what I was doing unimportant. It also hampered my progress in university quite a bit and I'm paying the price now. I would rather enjoy learning rock instruments--pianos and violins aren't rock instruments but I want to learn them too--and starting a band at some point. That being said, I would like to, as a professional means, eventually work for the CIA as an intelligence analyst. I desire to know what secrets they're hiding for myself, as sharing confidential information could jeopardize my life.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
I literally don't fear shit. I mean, there was a rat under my bed earlier today and I beat the shit out of it with a broom (laugh out loud until I gagged). Seriously though, when you free your mind from social traditions and religious beliefs (yes, I'm an atheist) you don't even fear death. What I 'fear' is my past, for all of the bad decisions I have made even though it's not threatening to eat me. I suffer from nightmares almost on a nightly basis because of the people I've tortured and ruined in the past. I burned countless bridges with family members and partners alike. I can't help it, I'm extremely selfish and do things for my own gain. If I'm nice to someone, it's truly because the objective yield will leave me better off in the end, or as they say 'The ends justify the means'. Hm, I wonder if what I said actually classifies me as Sx first?
• What do the 'highs' in your life look like?
The high in my life would look like when I consume DMT for the first time and talk to the Jesters about what the meaning of life is about (laugh out loud x3)! Jokes aside, the highs in my life are considered to be the times that I created something unique or accomplished a long-term goal that was set out since adolescence. That I prove myself right to those that have doubted, villainized, and abandoned me in the past because they thought I too was awkward or a complete loser. I guess another 'highs' in my life is that someday, I would ultimately become a well-rounded individual enough so someone would love me without fearing who I used to be (I like INFXs BTW). I guess I do have a fear that no one would love me for who I truly am and that I will live and die as a loner never understood for who he actually was.
• What do the 'lows' in your life look like?
*Just think about what I typed above and infer the opposite, and you'll see what my lows look like...*basically I failed at life in my subjective view of failure. I failed in that I wasn't able to go against the crowd, to prove myself against the masses, that I was unable to find true meaning in what I was pursuing even though the universe has no obligation to make sense to us.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
How do I say this, it's like I'm 60% in my head but 40% in my body. It's like I'm schizotypal (probably incorrect usage of this term) vividly imagining the possible things that could happen in my environment and how they could play out while also seeing what's actually going on in front of me. It's like if you ever watched the movie inception or the matrix, I'm constantly visualizing things that aren't real in order to make life more interesting in a sense or open up the door for more ideas. So yeah, I do daydream a fanatical amount but I can always pull myself back to reality when I need to even if it isn't as inspiring. I wish real life were more like Ready Player One, where I could just open a door and it would a different universe or dimension so I could exercise my escapist fantasies.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
Well, I'm probably a lab rat if I'm stuck in an empty room...I mean do rats realize that they are being experimented on, that the cheese on the other side of the maze isn't just for their enjoyment? Anyways, I have a tendency to talk to myself in order to ensure that my thoughts are logical or what I'm saying is connected to some facet of reality. So, the 'reality' is, I would never get bored because I would probably be making shit up like a child and his Legos would. However, expect me to ask the question 'why' or 'why the fuck am I here and not someone else???'.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
I mean, here's the thing, I'm like the Limitless guy who can think of 100 things and settle on 1 course of action if necessary. However, while I can make decisions, even important decisions quickly, I don't feel comfortable about the fact that I didn't completely explore the other 99 possible solutions that would influence the outcome of that decision. My brain works constantly and I can never shut that damn thing off. This is something slightly off-topic but my brain works faster if it something I'm actually passionate about instead of something streamlined or easy to solve just by googling the answer to the problem. It is almost disrespectful to my intelligence (ego) if someone asked me for help to a problem that a common person could easily solve themselves (How do I know if my tires are flat?).
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
I have a love-hate relationship with emotions in general, not just my own. I feel bad for homeless people but I also know that some of them are just con-artists with a scraggly beard. I think being a gentleman who dresses well would probably get me laid more often but why would I lie to myself? The god that you serve probably makes you happy and I'm glad that you found the motivation to improve yourself, but I still think you're a fool for believing it (scientific revolution and enlightenment baby!). However, I love music and the fact that it will never betray me; that I am able to express the emotions I don't quite understand or want to vocalize in specifics thanks to the culmination of various vibrations that synthesize into a certain rhythm that I like. I like to make music because I know it brings people together and music therapy is something that I'm also interested in. The breakthroughs that come about in that field are quite fascinating to say the least. I want to connect with people in ways that my words never could by making them feel good with my skill and what I was able to create.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
No, did I say no? I must've actually done DMT if I said yes because the sober me would've definitely said NO. I really don't do compromising because I'm not going to let my ideas, intentions, actions, feelings, fall into the hands of someone else. I like to be self-reliant and that is congruent with how I present myself to others. I say things that just piss people off...why would I want to be fake? If I don't agree with what you think or believe, why would I just accept being an idiot? Now, I know what empathy is and when someone, who is in a VULNERABLE position requires it, or someone --who is a type 9--doesn't know how to stand up for themselves (I love type 9s too!), I will step in and educate them on how overcome something and put a smile on top of the banana sundae. I really do sympathize for the underdog but that might just be because I'm always looking for conflict and it's fun fighting for the losing side. That is why I always like to play the devil's advocate when I can because I just have the mental prowess to attack situations from all angles. Also, who wants to be a follower? People should think for themselves more often and stop succumbing themselves to social expectations and norms (go LGBT amirite?). Seriously, why do people fear so much shit...I literally don't give a shit (laugh out loud the fourth).
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
I think it is imperative that you should know...I literally could not give a rat's ass about hierarchies or institutions that establish control around me. If you don't like how the table is set, then turn the table! I own my life and as far as I'm concerned, you're just an animal just like me, so fight me if you really think you deserve to be dominant in this kingdom. I'm learning Jiu Jitsu here soon more so because of theoretical principles behind it, but it would be nice to establish form to all of this power (whatever fucking energy is inside of me that makes me so polarizing). Like I said, I tried the military and I ended up arguing with the Drill Sargents that were supposed to 'fix' me so I could be a more disciplined, responsible person. Funny thing is, everyone should try the Army or Marines for a month. Not because it's something you apply yourself to be in the future, but to reveal to you actually how much inner strength is stored inside of you despite the struggle. Also, just think about Middle Ages for a little bit, no one challenged the authority of the Pope for 1000 years and guess what happened? It was riddled full of tribal warfare, feudal governments, discrimination of ideas, and needless religious wars over a piece of land (is Jerusalem even that cool?). All of that happened because no one challenged the church superpower and exposed their social and financial greed. So, if you ask me, rules are meant to be broken and people that follow them should question the validity of them more often as to be aware of the deception that plagues society on a daily basis.
P.S. For some reason, I have been listening to Rosetta Stoned by Tool for the Last 4 hours and it has been one hell of a biography, so I would really appreciate it if you guys put in as much effort as I did in making this post. My ultimate goal in life is to search for ULTIMATE truth like King Solomon once did.
P.S.S. Tyler Durden is my spirit animal and Princess Rosalina is waifu AF. Good luck in the typing my fellow redditors!
P.S.S.S. Let me know if I had made a grammatical mistake or if I need to clarify a statement. I'm kind of bad at noticing those things because of how much I'm mulling over ideas in my mind.
2021.12.21 06:38 Andreas_Corell1Seven years ago my sister disappeared; I finally found her.
PART 1
It all started when I was 14 years old, the girl I was dating cancelled my last minute movie date. I don't even remember what movie it was, only that my plans to kiss her were ruined at that moment, until my sister, Lucero insistently knocked on the bathroom door, where I was just touching up my last hair of my hairstyle, crying and feeling disgusted with myself, everything was supposed to be going great, or at least that's what I thought?
- Are you living off the toilet now, Brael? Get out at once.
- Go away, Lucero. Don't be a nuisance.
- Come on Braer, I want to go to the bathroom, I can't stand it anymore.
- Can you leave me alone Luz? Hold on a little, please.
- I see, what happened Braer?
- Nothing, nothing.
- Come on, tell the women's expert what happened.
- You're not an expert on women.
- Yes, I am.
- Of course you're not.
- How do you know that?
- You're barely turning 13, and you're just as experienced as I am in this love thing.
- Do you want me to show you my lady expert badge or what?
- Send it under the door, then.
- Ash, don't be a bastard Braerl, remember I dated someone older.
- The one who wanted to have sex with you and leave?
- The one...
- The one you cried for almost a month because he used you and left with the first girl he saw?
- Yeah, look, you're pushing it, Braerl. You don't want to make your sweet, innocent little sister cry, do you?
- I think I do.
- Son of a bitch, I'm done, I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna blow and when I blow, I'm gonna blow this door down. You hear me?
- Don't run out of lungs. Was I right? I don't want to get in trouble with mom.
- One, two and... - A stampede slammed the door, knocking me off my feet.
- You said you'd blow Light.
- First rule of understanding women my age, don't believe the first thing they tell you.
- That's cheating.
- I'm not saying no, and if you don't come out on the count of three, I swear by all the saints I'll kick that damn door down and kick your damn ass -I opened the door with a bang, managing to dodge my sister's brutal lunge that ended up hitting the wall.
- You're a bastard,' she cursed, rubbing her forehead with her left hand.
- Little bottle of sherry, everything you say will be the other way around.
- Too childish Braerl, that's why Alondra cancelled you.
- You crossed the line Luz, don't talk to me again.
I locked myself in my room and lay down on the bed, it had been a long time since I felt unhappy, defeated and stupid. I had a terrible attitude with my sister who hadn't done anything to me in the past, because she knows how easy she makes me cranky with her sarcasm every 5 minutes. A light knock-knock-knock, caressing my bedroom door, seemed far away.
- Hey, Braerl - I kept to myself, not answering, not making any noise.
- Oh, sorry. I didn't know you liked that girl so much
The silence between his sincerity and my apathy had built an invisible wall, where the light struggled to penetrate.
- Come on Brael, I know I was out of line, but you started it with that guy... but I followed him, I admit it.
Still nothing, my pride or maybe it was more my disappointment that kept me from responding.
- I'm going to hate myself for this, but I can go with you Brael.
- What?
- Don't make me repeat myself twice, please.
- How about I give you the tickets and you go out with some fuckboy?
- I don't talk to fuckboys anymore, Brael. Please, do you think that after being used as a third rate toy I'd still fall for the same tricks of those fuckboys?
- As a matter of fact, I do.
- I confess, yes. You're right, I haven't been able to get out of this shit spiral.
- It's not my problem. Just let me suffer in peace.
- Fuck Brael! - he drops his fist on the wood of the door - You know that once I start something, I can't stop until I finish it.
- Luz, it's that...
- It's nothing, now you get out of bed, wet your face and invite your little sister to the movies to listen to her love problems.
- Come on, you want to - I answered still discouraged, with an empty stomach and a lump in my throat.
'Although maybe, on second thought, she's got a point' I thought.
- Just to remind you, I will not admit and forget the advice you give me. you hear?
- Sure and strong ugly girl.
- Who are you calling ugly, toad face?
PART 2
The cinema we arrived at, is a local movie theater in town, which is well known and loved by the community. My parents built their history here and many friends wrote their first kisses inside empty halls in boring movies, others on the other hand, took a chance and stuck their hand in family movies, apparently I was the only haunted one who was destined to go to the movies with his little sister until she gets a boyfriend and it's my turn to go alone.
- Wow!
- What's going on?
- There are a lot of people at the movies.
- Is that what surprises you?
- Actually, no - he smiled sarcastically - we've been dating for a long time, Braerl.
- Don't tell me you're getting sentimental already.
- I don't know, maybe...
- Aha.
- You have to learn to guess what a girl wants through her body language Braerl.
- But I already know what you want.
- And what do I want?
- Some caramel popcorn and an apple soda.
- Damn it, you know me like the back of your hand!
- I've known toadhead for 13 years, now go and line up at the box office.
- I'm coming, radish head.
For some reason she had forgotten she already had the tickets beforehand, but I found it funny to see her standing there waiting for the moment for her short brain to click. The theater was a little crowded, the Divergent movie had been released a week ago, and me having made up tastes that didn't suit me to get a girl to like me who is most likely with another guy, or maybe not, took its toll on me. The guy who served me was friendly and helpful, as usual, and just at that moment when I was leaving to put sauce on my popcorn, I turned to look at my sister, in the middle of the lobby, watching me like a wave that is about to reach the city. I just nodded my head, pointing towards the entrance to the movie theater. We ran into each other just as I was handing over the tickets to be checked.
- Is something wrong?
- No, nothing.
- First rule when dating guys: pay attention to what they say.
- Is that it?
- Were you expecting advice that would explain the man's mind? I guess not.
- At least you would have given me a worthwhile piece of advice.
- What I told you isn't worth it?
- Well, I think it is.
- Life advice: don't be so haughty with your brother.
- Tuche, brother.
Our room was room 9, and it was down the hall. The change of atmosphere between the lobby and the hallway is something I'll never get used to. The lobby with warm colors, pleasant lights, and full of life, while the hallway with cold colors, monotonous lights and a world that seems dead for a century. We walked in silence, looking away once in a while to observe the movies that were on their way, the ones that had already arrived and the ones that we would never see. Without wanting to, and without knowing, we were both walking towards our destination, the anomaly of March 29, 2014, the disappearance of Lucero Argelia de la Cruz Montes. My sister.
PART 3
As we walked through that door the movie had already started. Dialogues and music were coming to us as we walked to get up to our seats. There was a row of white lights that went up with each step and marked the row with a letter of the alphabet. I chose the last seats, which were all the way to the top. Why? Well, I had my plans to kiss this girl and I hoped she was wearing a skirt, the rest I guess you can imagine. With each step up, I remembered the messages we sent each other every early morning, the songs we hummed on every outing, the linking of our fingers and a kiss on the cheek.
- Don't get left behind, monkey head - my sister interrupted the alternate futures I was imagining in my head.
- Shhh - answered someone unknown between the seats.
- Don't tell me shhh, what's wrong with you.
- Come on, let's keep going up, we are almost there.
Surprisingly, when we sat down, he made as little noise as possible. Lucero sometimes tends to be so unpredictable that he drives me out of my mind. The movie went normally, my sister got me to talk to her on several occasions and I enjoyed her company again. It had been a long time since I had a real talk with her, many times we move away, even if it is only a few centimeters from our siblings, who grow at our pace, but we move away, looking for our own individuality, forgetting that we can only find ourselves, in their look, in their affection and in watching them grow up.
Halfway through the movie, the popcorn had run out, however, at this local movie theater when you bought certain combos, you could go and refill another round of popcorn. I grabbed the container when my sister grabbed my wrist with some force.
- Fourth rule kid, women have initiative too. You don't have to be chivalrous all the time.
- In fact, it's the third rule.
- Fifth rule! I don't remember asking your opinion.
- You win, I give up. Go get the popcorn then, I left the ticket in there. Careful, you won't fall.
- Did you know that when you tell a person not to do something they end up doing it?
- This one, I guess it doesn't apply to everyone.
- Yes, it does! If I fall it will be your fault.
- Break a leg!
- That sounds better! I'll be right back. - she slowly and cautiously left the seat, stealthily walking across the room and taking care of every step on every step, I watched her lose herself in the darkness of the room, I watched her silhouette turn to enter the unknown. I returned my attention to the film, I became so interested in it that I somehow lost track of time. At some point I yawned and squinted, when I thought I heard my sister's laughter. I turned to her seat, but she hadn't arrived yet, maybe she was in line and was regretting missing the movie, or maybe she was already flirting with an older guy. Minutes passed and she didn't come back. The movie ended and she didn't come back. The theater manager took me very forcibly to the exit, and I walked somewhat fearfully towards the lobby, but Lucero was nowhere to be found. I approached the women's restrooms and asked a stranger if I could look for her inside. After a few minutes she came out without her, apparently she wasn't there either. I was about to make a fuss when the manager grabbed my shoulder.
- Is something wrong, kid?
- This one...
- You look very worried, did you get lost? did your friends leave you? maybe your girlfriend?
- Listen, no. I'm looking for my sister, she went out to refill another round of popcorn, but she didn't come back.
- I see, did your boyfriend come with you?
- No, he didn't.
- Do you know any lovers of hers?
- She just had her heart broken recently.
- This is very strange.
- It really is, she usually wouldn't leave without telling me first.
- Look kid, sit down over there, one of the employees will bring you a milkshake while I check the cameras and ask if anyone has seen her, is that okay?
- Thank you very much, Mr...?
- Ensign, I'm the manager of this cinema. What's your name?
- Brael, 14 years old. My sister's name is Lucero, her nickname is Luz and she's 13.
- Thanks for the information, Brael. I'll be right back.
My parents arrived shortly after and Ensign received them. I stood on the sidelines, from the table sipping my milkshake, somehow I still did not grasp the seriousness of the matter, everything felt distant and alien. After watching them talk for a long time from a distance, my parents approached me crying and hugged me, it was then when I cried too. Lucero disappeared without a trace and with her went the stability of our family. The first months were the hardest, then we began to laugh again in a low voice, almost like a murmur, laughter, memories, joy in words with the photo albums. And so the years passed, with the memory of Lucero's imprint frozen in a photo, beautiful and charismatic as always. But a little itch remained, latent and annoying every time I closed my eyes, the guilt of losing my sister. I never really got over it, I just tried to move on while behind my parents' backs I searched for evidence trying to piece together that night. The people at the movie theater got to know me well, and when I turned 19, they allowed me to work as a theater attendant, because even though I hadn't gathered any evidence all these years, I had to keep trying, after all, I had decided to focus all my time on finding her. While many of my friends were getting into college, making their lives, getting girlfriends, having fun, I was living a permanent regret. Until Andreas came along.
PART 4
I love playing Valorant, it's one of the few games where I can really get tryhard and also make me forget for a few hours the anxiety in the back of my head. I always get home at 11:00 p.m. and after dinner and a shower, I turn on the computer to make plays that should be on YouTube compilations. I'm part of a competitive team and we do discord calls for several hours, training, participating in amateur tournaments, and, above all, having a good time, until he arrived, Andreas Correlli. His username in discord as in Valorant, looked so clean and uniform, apparently a unique nickname that attracts a lot of attention.
He took part in the training that day, he almost didn't communicate with us, but he made very impressive moves, he knew how to camp the group and attack at critical moments despite what I had detected as shyness, a few days later he was already in the team, ready to participate in an upcoming competition. When one night after a lot of work, a private message came to me, I took it as a way to get closer to the members and create a bond of trust. After chatting for several weeks in a row, I began to have confidence in him, and after training, just him and me, we played chill games, by call and at first I detected his shyness, he spoke very little, but after many sleepless nights he was the one who now did not stop talking, to toxify the rivals, to laugh for behaving arrogant and losing, a nice guy, until, about to finish a game, he revealed something strange to me.
- Juli3n, do you have a moment?
- Sure bro, what's up?
- Your sister is coming back next week.
- I'm sorry?
- I can't reveal too much to you.
- What do you mean?
- Yes, your sister will be back on the penultimate show next week, unfortunately I owe you for the day.
- But how do you know that?
- Just listen Brael, it will take you a while to recognize her, but you have to protect her from the man in the black hat.
- Wait, just wait a minute man. I never mentioned to you about my missing sister and real name - bewildered, I approached the screen, trying to grab him so he wouldn't leave, so he would put things back in order.
- Sorry kid, my time is up, if all goes well, we'll meet again.
- Fuck, just wait... - he disconnected from discord instantly, and despite spamming him with messages, his profile resembled a graveyard, unreal and lonely. I tried to play another game to distract myself, but it was useless, a lot of questions flooded my head that from one moment to another I fell asleep.
It was noon, when the light began to bother my eyelids, and a strong headache became present in a slight and superficial way, I did not remember anything of the previous night until I turned on my computer, observing all the messages I had spamed to Andreas. I cursed under my breath, it was late and in a few hours I would have to leave for work, 'Is it true what he told me, is he just another internet stalker?' I thought, 'I don't really know this guy at all, and I don't remember him sending me a link to dox me, how strange'. I ended up coming to no conclusion, my stomach growled and that was more than enough of a sign that I had to get back to catching up on all this shit, maybe my first and only clue had finally arrived.
PART 5
As busy as I was at work, I ended up forgetting the small and revealing clue from days ago, all in all, her answer was so ambiguous that I could even be wrong, maybe doubting is wrong at this point, but in those small moments when the movie was over and I was leading the clients out, I felt my sister's presence in a murmur in the crowd, in an intrusive laugh, in a warm scolding. It was the last day of the week, the movie was almost over, and I was upstairs waiting to open the exit door and lead the customers to the lobby. I had one arm resting on my chin, suddenly something felt out of place. A figure entered and turned down the aisle to go up to the seats, but it was strange, for some reason it made me uncomfortable. He stopped halfway up the aisle, looking around with some popcorn in his hands.
I was overcome with the urge to talk to her, but she looked underage, it could be misconstrued and I really didn't want to lose my job. We exchanged glances for a moment, the discomfort grew from my esophagus to my entire chest, a pressure began to steal my breath. I leaned against a wall and pulled myself upright when....
- Excuse me, are you all right? - The girl's gentle hand on my head brought me back to reality.
- How did you know that?
- I left a while ago to refill the popcorn, and now that I'm coming back, it seems that the room and the people have completely changed.
- Can I see your ticket?
- Sure, it should be here somewhere - the girl started to rummage through her pockets, when she suddenly stopped, turning her head back, waiting for something I couldn't make out.
- Is something wrong, miss?
- No, everything is fine.
- Miss.
- Hey, I said everything's fine.
- Of course whatever you say - for some reason I thought it wasn't Lucero, she didn't look the same, besides the darkness in the room didn't let me see her completely. With two fingers she grabbed my shirt, her look showed how puzzled she was, but her previous words said the opposite. She looked from where we were to the entrance hallway and squeezed my shirt tighter, I did the same and I could see how a tall black silhouette walked slowly down the hallway. He paused to watch the movie for a few seconds and turned to look at me. Then he combed the entire room from top to bottom, left to right. The girl who a few moments ago was attending, crouched down behind me. ' a bad sign ' I thought ' maybe a stalker or a pedophile '. I didn't manage to observe his gaze, but I knew that he didn't stop looking at me at every step I climbed. I couldn't take my eyes off him, I was mesmerized by his unreal silhouette.
- Don't let him find me - whispered the girl behind me. Just those words brought me back to the present when there were two steps left to get the guy, who I could now distinguish wearing a huge coat, and a matching black hat. I instinctively signaled with my hands for him to stop. The guy cocked his head to one side, I followed his gesture imitating him, he clicked his tongue and finally spoke.
- Did you lose something sir?
- Yes, your ticket
- What?
- May I see your ticket sir? - I didn't understand what was going on, I just answered automatically, actually that guy made my skin crawl, and I had to follow my protocol so that in case he was related to the girl, I wouldn't notice. The guy reached into his coat pockets and I could see how well dressed he was.
- I think I lost him.
- Then you'll have to come with me to the hallway to look for him.
- With pleasure - just when he climbed another step, I stopped him again.
- This is the exit sir, we should look for him where he came in, maybe if we follow the steps you took, we can find him, remember that I am here to serve you.
- Yes, of course - he accepted with a gesture of annoyance going down the steps with heavy steps, I followed him closely. We arrived at the entrance and he went out first into the hallway, taking the lead. As I opened the doors and peeked my head out, I could not find him. My companions passed by and greeted me. I asked if I had seen a man leave, but they shook their heads and continued on their way. At the end of the corridor I could see people entering the rooms with their families, further down the hall I saw the line and the lobby. I felt peace of mind when after several checks of the hallway, that strange gentleman no longer showed himself.
When I returned to the room and looked up, the frightened girl from before was not visible, only her little hand clinging to a part of the wall. I walked slowly, confused and calm. I arrived and the first thing I noticed was how she was squatting, popcorn on one side and one hand covering her mouth. I slowly stroked her head and after a few moments, the stiffness of her body disappeared, hugging me tightly and terror took hold of me. ' This could be misinterpreted, we have to stand up and talk about what happened ' I thought. When I tried to stand up, she held on to me tighter ' fuck, quick before someone sees us like this, I still can't do my job, I need more answers ' I thought again.
- It's over, I think we can get our composure back together -I tried to resolve to relieve her and relieve myself.
- No, we can't.
- Come on, go down the hall, he's gone.
- I don't want to.
- No, please don't.
- No, please don't.
- Look, this can be misinterpreted in the eyes of others - I asked a little irritated, I had to behave like a responsible adult.
- But...
- Let's do this, if you look down the hall, I'll give you a pair of tickets, okay? Did you come with someone?
- Yeah, but I can't find him.
- Oh, maybe I stood you up in the middle of the show. Don't worry, most guys your age are jerks.
- You're a boy.
- At my age, you're either a king of jerks or you're mature. -I answered confidently; she looked deep into my eyes, bit her lip, pressed my shirt and with a jerk she stood up and peeked her head out into the hallway, finding nothing but darkness and loneliness. Can you see he's not here? I scared that stupid man away.
- And why were you trembling when he approached?
- I didn't do that.
- Yes, you did.
- No, you didn't.
- Yes, you did.
- Okay, look, you're right, I did, but you're not off the hook either.
- I like it, let's call it a draw.
- A tie, of course... in any case, what's your name?
- Lucero.
- Lucero?
- Uh-huh, is there something wrong with my name?
- No, it's just that you remind me of someone.
- Don't tell me I reminded you of your ex that you can't get over.
- Fuck, what a tongue you have for your age girl and no, nothing like that.
- So what's this about?
- It's going to sound weird, but can I ask you your last name?
- Lucero, Lucero Algeria de la Cruz Montes.
My heart stopped during those spaces between the letters of her name, the sound of the movie faded and it had been a long time since I had felt my vision darken. I managed to lean on his shoulder, with a terrible desire to vomit. Lucero held me as best I could, with an expression of naivety on his face.
- What's the matter?
- No, nothing - I answered still with my hand in my mouth and the food regurgitating in my throat.
- Come on man, you're not well. Too much sauce or some food that went bad?
- No, it's not that.
- Is it then?
- Now I'll tell you, just let me pull myself together -I took a deep breath and with the support I had I pushed myself to stand up straight, there was not much left for the movie to end-. What was the problem you told me about?
- People are different, and my brother is nowhere to be seen, he is supposed to be in the last row, more or less in the middle and nothing.
- Yeah, I get it, I think I get it.
- Are you sure he's okay now? You sound a little shaken up.
- I'm fine, I'm serious, one other thing, can I see your ticket?
- But I just gave it to you.
- Right,' I rummaged through my pockets and broke out in a cold sweat when I couldn't find it. I quickly bent down and found it next to the popcorn box, it was a little dirty, but after shaking it a little, I examined the details of the ticket in depth, realizing my mistake that I should have noticed at the beginning, the date of the ticket said: March 29, 2014.
- Now why are you crying? You are a very strange guy.
- Welcome Lucero -I tied to say while my hand was shaking with the ticket in my hand, tears came out and my voice was breaking into thousands of pieces.
PART 6
- Excuse me? how do you know me? and why are you crying?
- Luz... -I stopped in mid-sentence to think about what I was going to say, just tell her that she had disappeared and that for 7 years I have been looking for her, so I came up with a solution, I took out my cell phone and put the screen on her face.
- What do you mean?
- What do you mean, that what? -I answered grumpily.
- You change your mood quickly, a moment ago you were shrieking, but now you're sulky.
- But you will be,' I took a deep breath and proceeded to explain, 'just look at the screen.
- Aha And?
¬- Did you see what date it is?
- Should I see the date?
- You should see the date.
- I already saw it
- So?
- What are you getting at?
- Can you read the date out loud, please?
- Is this a fetish of yours?
- Please...
- Sunday, October 31, 2021.
- ¿Y?
- So what? So what?
- For God's sake, don't you realize it?
- Realize what, it's obviously a bad joke, if today is March 24, 2014. I think I'll report you to your supervisor, that's no way to treat customers, sir?
- Hey, I'll be 21 soon brat, behave yourself.
- Yeah whatever you say, but what's your name, I can't report you if I don't know your name.
- Look, here's my ID, come on, behave yourself.
- Brael Antonio de la Cruz Montes,' she whispered as her voice cracked. She trembled a little and I hugged her, she hugged me back as she sobbed.
-How?
- Even I have no idea, but wipe your tears with my shirt, come on.
- Are you sure?
- I really am, don't worry.
- Thank you.
The movie ended, I helped and guided the customers to the exit, my sister all the time remained behind me, hidden, her eyes shining and her cheeks red. After the room emptied, we embraced again and I bent down to explain the situation to her. She kept her hands over her mouth, repressing the pain and anguish, I stroked her head and led her out of the theater. Outside she looked around her, with a coarse curiosity, she kept spinning on her own axis, I put my hands on her shoulders and asked her to stay there on some nearby stairs, while I went to her supervisor to ask permission to leave for some excuse what she would think of on the way to her office. Lucero clung fearfully to my shirt with her fingers, but I made it clear that I would come back for her and that nothing was going to keep us apart again, because we are family, and the big brother's responsibility is to take care of his little sister. I had failed once, however, this time it would be different, I could feel it.
EPILOGUE
It sounds weird to put Epilogue because all this is not over yet, but if I put it this way is because I love to read in my spare time, so I hope you don't mind me taking this liberty. I will summarize what happened next to move on to what is important: I didn't even have to lie to my parents when I took her home, they recognized her immediately, and after a long hug, I explained in detail everything that had happened at the cinema, days later talking more calmly we decided to change her name Lucero, she agreed because we would draw too much attention if suddenly someone who had been missing for 7 years, came back safe, sound and with the same age. It's been a week since then, I'm just writing this after receiving a message from Andreas, explaining everything that is happening a few minutes ago, and this just got more interesting.
Andreas Corelli 11:34 pm
Jul3n I hope your sister made it home safe and sound and you were able to annoy that man in the hat, he is quite a nuisance, you may wonder how did he know your sister would be back? Well my little grasshopper, I hope you put on some horror music and pay attention, because from this shit you are never the same.
You and your sister are ANOMALIES, what do I mean? An AN ANOMALY is that which should not exist, yet it exists and is maintained despite its difficulties. Forgive the ambiguity of the quote, it's just that I got it in my head that way too, now I'll go with the explanation to make it clearer. Your sister and you must have died a long time ago, maybe since your birth or some critical moment in your childhood, where you met death and for various reasons came back to life, and you are still standing, surely right now you remember when you were about to die, although in reality you died and were reborn. Making clear this concept, which is essential that you explain it to your sister or not, I will leave it to your choice, and that is that, because of us, another dimension was created indirectly, obviously. I will ask you another question: Why do you think there are cases of unexplained or incredible disappearances? Where the last moments are recorded at the entrance of a parking lot, or in a recurring place and they are never seen again, and it is because when they enter through a door, they enter something that I call 'Liminal Space' I guess you know them, although it has another name and my colleagues call it 'Backrooms', and in fact there are establishments that really are Backrooms in the other dimension and that you MUST avoid at all costs. By the way, I forgot to tell you that I am part of a worldwide organization that helps people like you and your sister who have no idea of these capabilities to survive.
After laying out the concepts, let's get down to the nitty gritty. No one controls when to enter the other dimension, it just happens, to exit is the same, it just happens. We have not been able to elucidate if someone or something controls these exits and entrances at will of us, the anomalies, but I can tell you that you can avoid them, and it is by developing a kind of 'feeling', something like Spiderman's spider sense, exactly as you think, because you just 'feel' when in an automatic door, or an ordinary door, that little tingle at the back of your head, of alert and worry, however I have bad news for you, you can only develop it after entering the liminal space and survive at least once, I hope you don't get mad at me, I don't set the rules, I just decipher them to survive. It's true, I almost forgot, the experiences are totally individual and collective at the same time, besides the time spent outside the real world is very different, what do I mean, your sister went in 7 years ago, however, a fellow of ours nicknamed 'Kavinski' who lives in your city and you should thank him, he went in because he had a bad feeling, and following his instincts, he managed to see your sister and help her to come back, maybe your sister did not mention it at the moment, but give her patience, she was almost devoured in there. Now I guess you will be conflicted because I mentioned that the exits from the liminal spaces are random, and yes, but Kavinski is besides an anomaly, he is a 'Joker', they are special subjects that are able to determine when they can leave and enter at will, although of course, they are only 50% chance, we lost many taking out that percentage, so don't just thank him, invite him a pizza or something.
Finally, I know you have had enough: Kavinski asked me to comment to you that within three weeks a door would open, and that together with him and another one like you, he can give them a safe tour to develop that 'feeling' so they can fend for themselves, and yes, there are other types of anomalies that are able to have premonitions, all anomalies after returning from liminal space develop an ability, we already have several categories, and I would encourage you to go on the tour, I promise it is safe and Kavinski is one of the best men I know, besides you will meet those who decided to stay in hell. Good night and sleep well.
After thinking about it for a while, maybe it would be a good experiment to develop that *sense* and be able to protect myself and my sister. What do you guys think, do I go, stay and wait to be trapped with no one to help me? I'll write later if something interesting happens, see you.
Disclaimer: I'm Mexican and I use a translator, I have b2 level of English, but I'm lazy, please, don't riddle me, any doubt I'll pass it to Andreas, and no, I named this profile because of the enigma it causes me, and in case someone knows it.
submitted byAndreas_Corell1tonosleep [link][comments]It all started when I was 14 years old, the girl I was dating cancelled my last minute movie date. I don't even remember what movie it was, only that my plans to kiss her were ruined at that moment, until my sister, Lucero insistently knocked on the bathroom door, where I was just touching up my last hair of my hairstyle, crying and feeling disgusted with myself, everything was supposed to be going great, or at least that's what I thought?
- Are you living off the toilet now, Brael? Get out at once.
- Go away, Lucero. Don't be a nuisance.
- Come on Braer, I want to go to the bathroom, I can't stand it anymore.
- Can you leave me alone Luz? Hold on a little, please.
- I see, what happened Braer?
- Nothing, nothing.
- Come on, tell the women's expert what happened.
- You're not an expert on women.
- Yes, I am.
- Of course you're not.
- How do you know that?
- You're barely turning 13, and you're just as experienced as I am in this love thing.
- Do you want me to show you my lady expert badge or what?
- Send it under the door, then.
- Ash, don't be a bastard Braerl, remember I dated someone older.
- The one who wanted to have sex with you and leave?
- The one...
- The one you cried for almost a month because he used you and left with the first girl he saw?
- Yeah, look, you're pushing it, Braerl. You don't want to make your sweet, innocent little sister cry, do you?
- I think I do.
- Son of a bitch, I'm done, I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna blow and when I blow, I'm gonna blow this door down. You hear me?
- Don't run out of lungs. Was I right? I don't want to get in trouble with mom.
- One, two and... - A stampede slammed the door, knocking me off my feet.
- You said you'd blow Light.
- First rule of understanding women my age, don't believe the first thing they tell you.
- That's cheating.
- I'm not saying no, and if you don't come out on the count of three, I swear by all the saints I'll kick that damn door down and kick your damn ass -I opened the door with a bang, managing to dodge my sister's brutal lunge that ended up hitting the wall.
- You're a bastard,' she cursed, rubbing her forehead with her left hand.
- Little bottle of sherry, everything you say will be the other way around.
- Too childish Braerl, that's why Alondra cancelled you.
- You crossed the line Luz, don't talk to me again.
I locked myself in my room and lay down on the bed, it had been a long time since I felt unhappy, defeated and stupid. I had a terrible attitude with my sister who hadn't done anything to me in the past, because she knows how easy she makes me cranky with her sarcasm every 5 minutes. A light knock-knock-knock, caressing my bedroom door, seemed far away.
- Hey, Braerl - I kept to myself, not answering, not making any noise.
- Oh, sorry. I didn't know you liked that girl so much
The silence between his sincerity and my apathy had built an invisible wall, where the light struggled to penetrate.
- Come on Brael, I know I was out of line, but you started it with that guy... but I followed him, I admit it.
Still nothing, my pride or maybe it was more my disappointment that kept me from responding.
- I'm going to hate myself for this, but I can go with you Brael.
- What?
- Don't make me repeat myself twice, please.
- How about I give you the tickets and you go out with some fuckboy?
- I don't talk to fuckboys anymore, Brael. Please, do you think that after being used as a third rate toy I'd still fall for the same tricks of those fuckboys?
- As a matter of fact, I do.
- I confess, yes. You're right, I haven't been able to get out of this shit spiral.
- It's not my problem. Just let me suffer in peace.
- Fuck Brael! - he drops his fist on the wood of the door - You know that once I start something, I can't stop until I finish it.
- Luz, it's that...
- It's nothing, now you get out of bed, wet your face and invite your little sister to the movies to listen to her love problems.
- Come on, you want to - I answered still discouraged, with an empty stomach and a lump in my throat.
'Although maybe, on second thought, she's got a point' I thought.
- Just to remind you, I will not admit and forget the advice you give me. you hear?
- Sure and strong ugly girl.
- Who are you calling ugly, toad face?
PART 2
The cinema we arrived at, is a local movie theater in town, which is well known and loved by the community. My parents built their history here and many friends wrote their first kisses inside empty halls in boring movies, others on the other hand, took a chance and stuck their hand in family movies, apparently I was the only haunted one who was destined to go to the movies with his little sister until she gets a boyfriend and it's my turn to go alone.
- Wow!
- What's going on?
- There are a lot of people at the movies.
- Is that what surprises you?
- Actually, no - he smiled sarcastically - we've been dating for a long time, Braerl.
- Don't tell me you're getting sentimental already.
- I don't know, maybe...
- Aha.
- You have to learn to guess what a girl wants through her body language Braerl.
- But I already know what you want.
- And what do I want?
- Some caramel popcorn and an apple soda.
- Damn it, you know me like the back of your hand!
- I've known toadhead for 13 years, now go and line up at the box office.
- I'm coming, radish head.
For some reason she had forgotten she already had the tickets beforehand, but I found it funny to see her standing there waiting for the moment for her short brain to click. The theater was a little crowded, the Divergent movie had been released a week ago, and me having made up tastes that didn't suit me to get a girl to like me who is most likely with another guy, or maybe not, took its toll on me. The guy who served me was friendly and helpful, as usual, and just at that moment when I was leaving to put sauce on my popcorn, I turned to look at my sister, in the middle of the lobby, watching me like a wave that is about to reach the city. I just nodded my head, pointing towards the entrance to the movie theater. We ran into each other just as I was handing over the tickets to be checked.
- Is something wrong?
- No, nothing.
- First rule when dating guys: pay attention to what they say.
- Is that it?
- Were you expecting advice that would explain the man's mind? I guess not.
- At least you would have given me a worthwhile piece of advice.
- What I told you isn't worth it?
- Well, I think it is.
- Life advice: don't be so haughty with your brother.
- Tuche, brother.
Our room was room 9, and it was down the hall. The change of atmosphere between the lobby and the hallway is something I'll never get used to. The lobby with warm colors, pleasant lights, and full of life, while the hallway with cold colors, monotonous lights and a world that seems dead for a century. We walked in silence, looking away once in a while to observe the movies that were on their way, the ones that had already arrived and the ones that we would never see. Without wanting to, and without knowing, we were both walking towards our destination, the anomaly of March 29, 2014, the disappearance of Lucero Argelia de la Cruz Montes. My sister.
PART 3
As we walked through that door the movie had already started. Dialogues and music were coming to us as we walked to get up to our seats. There was a row of white lights that went up with each step and marked the row with a letter of the alphabet. I chose the last seats, which were all the way to the top. Why? Well, I had my plans to kiss this girl and I hoped she was wearing a skirt, the rest I guess you can imagine. With each step up, I remembered the messages we sent each other every early morning, the songs we hummed on every outing, the linking of our fingers and a kiss on the cheek.
- Don't get left behind, monkey head - my sister interrupted the alternate futures I was imagining in my head.
- Shhh - answered someone unknown between the seats.
- Don't tell me shhh, what's wrong with you.
- Come on, let's keep going up, we are almost there.
Surprisingly, when we sat down, he made as little noise as possible. Lucero sometimes tends to be so unpredictable that he drives me out of my mind. The movie went normally, my sister got me to talk to her on several occasions and I enjoyed her company again. It had been a long time since I had a real talk with her, many times we move away, even if it is only a few centimeters from our siblings, who grow at our pace, but we move away, looking for our own individuality, forgetting that we can only find ourselves, in their look, in their affection and in watching them grow up.
Halfway through the movie, the popcorn had run out, however, at this local movie theater when you bought certain combos, you could go and refill another round of popcorn. I grabbed the container when my sister grabbed my wrist with some force.
- Fourth rule kid, women have initiative too. You don't have to be chivalrous all the time.
- In fact, it's the third rule.
- Fifth rule! I don't remember asking your opinion.
- You win, I give up. Go get the popcorn then, I left the ticket in there. Careful, you won't fall.
- Did you know that when you tell a person not to do something they end up doing it?
- This one, I guess it doesn't apply to everyone.
- Yes, it does! If I fall it will be your fault.
- Break a leg!
- That sounds better! I'll be right back. - she slowly and cautiously left the seat, stealthily walking across the room and taking care of every step on every step, I watched her lose herself in the darkness of the room, I watched her silhouette turn to enter the unknown. I returned my attention to the film, I became so interested in it that I somehow lost track of time. At some point I yawned and squinted, when I thought I heard my sister's laughter. I turned to her seat, but she hadn't arrived yet, maybe she was in line and was regretting missing the movie, or maybe she was already flirting with an older guy. Minutes passed and she didn't come back. The movie ended and she didn't come back. The theater manager took me very forcibly to the exit, and I walked somewhat fearfully towards the lobby, but Lucero was nowhere to be found. I approached the women's restrooms and asked a stranger if I could look for her inside. After a few minutes she came out without her, apparently she wasn't there either. I was about to make a fuss when the manager grabbed my shoulder.
- Is something wrong, kid?
- This one...
- You look very worried, did you get lost? did your friends leave you? maybe your girlfriend?
- Listen, no. I'm looking for my sister, she went out to refill another round of popcorn, but she didn't come back.
- I see, did your boyfriend come with you?
- No, he didn't.
- Do you know any lovers of hers?
- She just had her heart broken recently.
- This is very strange.
- It really is, she usually wouldn't leave without telling me first.
- Look kid, sit down over there, one of the employees will bring you a milkshake while I check the cameras and ask if anyone has seen her, is that okay?
- Thank you very much, Mr...?
- Ensign, I'm the manager of this cinema. What's your name?
- Brael, 14 years old. My sister's name is Lucero, her nickname is Luz and she's 13.
- Thanks for the information, Brael. I'll be right back.
My parents arrived shortly after and Ensign received them. I stood on the sidelines, from the table sipping my milkshake, somehow I still did not grasp the seriousness of the matter, everything felt distant and alien. After watching them talk for a long time from a distance, my parents approached me crying and hugged me, it was then when I cried too. Lucero disappeared without a trace and with her went the stability of our family. The first months were the hardest, then we began to laugh again in a low voice, almost like a murmur, laughter, memories, joy in words with the photo albums. And so the years passed, with the memory of Lucero's imprint frozen in a photo, beautiful and charismatic as always. But a little itch remained, latent and annoying every time I closed my eyes, the guilt of losing my sister. I never really got over it, I just tried to move on while behind my parents' backs I searched for evidence trying to piece together that night. The people at the movie theater got to know me well, and when I turned 19, they allowed me to work as a theater attendant, because even though I hadn't gathered any evidence all these years, I had to keep trying, after all, I had decided to focus all my time on finding her. While many of my friends were getting into college, making their lives, getting girlfriends, having fun, I was living a permanent regret. Until Andreas came along.
PART 4
I love playing Valorant, it's one of the few games where I can really get tryhard and also make me forget for a few hours the anxiety in the back of my head. I always get home at 11:00 p.m. and after dinner and a shower, I turn on the computer to make plays that should be on YouTube compilations. I'm part of a competitive team and we do discord calls for several hours, training, participating in amateur tournaments, and, above all, having a good time, until he arrived, Andreas Correlli. His username in discord as in Valorant, looked so clean and uniform, apparently a unique nickname that attracts a lot of attention.
He took part in the training that day, he almost didn't communicate with us, but he made very impressive moves, he knew how to camp the group and attack at critical moments despite what I had detected as shyness, a few days later he was already in the team, ready to participate in an upcoming competition. When one night after a lot of work, a private message came to me, I took it as a way to get closer to the members and create a bond of trust. After chatting for several weeks in a row, I began to have confidence in him, and after training, just him and me, we played chill games, by call and at first I detected his shyness, he spoke very little, but after many sleepless nights he was the one who now did not stop talking, to toxify the rivals, to laugh for behaving arrogant and losing, a nice guy, until, about to finish a game, he revealed something strange to me.
- Juli3n, do you have a moment?
- Sure bro, what's up?
- Your sister is coming back next week.
- I'm sorry?
- I can't reveal too much to you.
- What do you mean?
- Yes, your sister will be back on the penultimate show next week, unfortunately I owe you for the day.
- But how do you know that?
- Just listen Brael, it will take you a while to recognize her, but you have to protect her from the man in the black hat.
- Wait, just wait a minute man. I never mentioned to you about my missing sister and real name - bewildered, I approached the screen, trying to grab him so he wouldn't leave, so he would put things back in order.
- Sorry kid, my time is up, if all goes well, we'll meet again.
- Fuck, just wait... - he disconnected from discord instantly, and despite spamming him with messages, his profile resembled a graveyard, unreal and lonely. I tried to play another game to distract myself, but it was useless, a lot of questions flooded my head that from one moment to another I fell asleep.
It was noon, when the light began to bother my eyelids, and a strong headache became present in a slight and superficial way, I did not remember anything of the previous night until I turned on my computer, observing all the messages I had spamed to Andreas. I cursed under my breath, it was late and in a few hours I would have to leave for work, 'Is it true what he told me, is he just another internet stalker?' I thought, 'I don't really know this guy at all, and I don't remember him sending me a link to dox me, how strange'. I ended up coming to no conclusion, my stomach growled and that was more than enough of a sign that I had to get back to catching up on all this shit, maybe my first and only clue had finally arrived.
PART 5
As busy as I was at work, I ended up forgetting the small and revealing clue from days ago, all in all, her answer was so ambiguous that I could even be wrong, maybe doubting is wrong at this point, but in those small moments when the movie was over and I was leading the clients out, I felt my sister's presence in a murmur in the crowd, in an intrusive laugh, in a warm scolding. It was the last day of the week, the movie was almost over, and I was upstairs waiting to open the exit door and lead the customers to the lobby. I had one arm resting on my chin, suddenly something felt out of place. A figure entered and turned down the aisle to go up to the seats, but it was strange, for some reason it made me uncomfortable. He stopped halfway up the aisle, looking around with some popcorn in his hands.
I was overcome with the urge to talk to her, but she looked underage, it could be misconstrued and I really didn't want to lose my job. We exchanged glances for a moment, the discomfort grew from my esophagus to my entire chest, a pressure began to steal my breath. I leaned against a wall and pulled myself upright when....
- Excuse me, are you all right? - The girl's gentle hand on my head brought me back to reality.
- How did you know that?
- I left a while ago to refill the popcorn, and now that I'm coming back, it seems that the room and the people have completely changed.
- Can I see your ticket?
- Sure, it should be here somewhere - the girl started to rummage through her pockets, when she suddenly stopped, turning her head back, waiting for something I couldn't make out.
- Is something wrong, miss?
- No, everything is fine.
- Miss.
- Hey, I said everything's fine.
- Of course whatever you say - for some reason I thought it wasn't Lucero, she didn't look the same, besides the darkness in the room didn't let me see her completely. With two fingers she grabbed my shirt, her look showed how puzzled she was, but her previous words said the opposite. She looked from where we were to the entrance hallway and squeezed my shirt tighter, I did the same and I could see how a tall black silhouette walked slowly down the hallway. He paused to watch the movie for a few seconds and turned to look at me. Then he combed the entire room from top to bottom, left to right. The girl who a few moments ago was attending, crouched down behind me. ' a bad sign ' I thought ' maybe a stalker or a pedophile '. I didn't manage to observe his gaze, but I knew that he didn't stop looking at me at every step I climbed. I couldn't take my eyes off him, I was mesmerized by his unreal silhouette.
- Don't let him find me - whispered the girl behind me. Just those words brought me back to the present when there were two steps left to get the guy, who I could now distinguish wearing a huge coat, and a matching black hat. I instinctively signaled with my hands for him to stop. The guy cocked his head to one side, I followed his gesture imitating him, he clicked his tongue and finally spoke.
- Did you lose something sir?
- Yes, your ticket
- What?
- May I see your ticket sir? - I didn't understand what was going on, I just answered automatically, actually that guy made my skin crawl, and I had to follow my protocol so that in case he was related to the girl, I wouldn't notice. The guy reached into his coat pockets and I could see how well dressed he was.
- I think I lost him.
- Then you'll have to come with me to the hallway to look for him.
- With pleasure - just when he climbed another step, I stopped him again.
- This is the exit sir, we should look for him where he came in, maybe if we follow the steps you took, we can find him, remember that I am here to serve you.
- Yes, of course - he accepted with a gesture of annoyance going down the steps with heavy steps, I followed him closely. We arrived at the entrance and he went out first into the hallway, taking the lead. As I opened the doors and peeked my head out, I could not find him. My companions passed by and greeted me. I asked if I had seen a man leave, but they shook their heads and continued on their way. At the end of the corridor I could see people entering the rooms with their families, further down the hall I saw the line and the lobby. I felt peace of mind when after several checks of the hallway, that strange gentleman no longer showed himself.
When I returned to the room and looked up, the frightened girl from before was not visible, only her little hand clinging to a part of the wall. I walked slowly, confused and calm. I arrived and the first thing I noticed was how she was squatting, popcorn on one side and one hand covering her mouth. I slowly stroked her head and after a few moments, the stiffness of her body disappeared, hugging me tightly and terror took hold of me. ' This could be misinterpreted, we have to stand up and talk about what happened ' I thought. When I tried to stand up, she held on to me tighter ' fuck, quick before someone sees us like this, I still can't do my job, I need more answers ' I thought again.
- It's over, I think we can get our composure back together -I tried to resolve to relieve her and relieve myself.
- No, we can't.
- Come on, go down the hall, he's gone.
- I don't want to.
- No, please don't.
- No, please don't.
- Look, this can be misinterpreted in the eyes of others - I asked a little irritated, I had to behave like a responsible adult.
- But...
- Let's do this, if you look down the hall, I'll give you a pair of tickets, okay? Did you come with someone?
- Yeah, but I can't find him.
- Oh, maybe I stood you up in the middle of the show. Don't worry, most guys your age are jerks.
- You're a boy.
- At my age, you're either a king of jerks or you're mature. -I answered confidently; she looked deep into my eyes, bit her lip, pressed my shirt and with a jerk she stood up and peeked her head out into the hallway, finding nothing but darkness and loneliness. Can you see he's not here? I scared that stupid man away.
- And why were you trembling when he approached?
- I didn't do that.
- Yes, you did.
- No, you didn't.
- Yes, you did.
- Okay, look, you're right, I did, but you're not off the hook either.
- I like it, let's call it a draw.
- A tie, of course... in any case, what's your name?
- Lucero.
- Lucero?
- Uh-huh, is there something wrong with my name?
- No, it's just that you remind me of someone.
- Don't tell me I reminded you of your ex that you can't get over.
- Fuck, what a tongue you have for your age girl and no, nothing like that.
- So what's this about?
- It's going to sound weird, but can I ask you your last name?
- Lucero, Lucero Algeria de la Cruz Montes.
My heart stopped during those spaces between the letters of her name, the sound of the movie faded and it had been a long time since I had felt my vision darken. I managed to lean on his shoulder, with a terrible desire to vomit. Lucero held me as best I could, with an expression of naivety on his face.
- What's the matter?
- No, nothing - I answered still with my hand in my mouth and the food regurgitating in my throat.
- Come on man, you're not well. Too much sauce or some food that went bad?
- No, it's not that.
- Is it then?
- Now I'll tell you, just let me pull myself together -I took a deep breath and with the support I had I pushed myself to stand up straight, there was not much left for the movie to end-. What was the problem you told me about?
- People are different, and my brother is nowhere to be seen, he is supposed to be in the last row, more or less in the middle and nothing.
- Yeah, I get it, I think I get it.
- Are you sure he's okay now? You sound a little shaken up.
- I'm fine, I'm serious, one other thing, can I see your ticket?
- But I just gave it to you.
- Right,' I rummaged through my pockets and broke out in a cold sweat when I couldn't find it. I quickly bent down and found it next to the popcorn box, it was a little dirty, but after shaking it a little, I examined the details of the ticket in depth, realizing my mistake that I should have noticed at the beginning, the date of the ticket said: March 29, 2014.
- Now why are you crying? You are a very strange guy.
- Welcome Lucero -I tied to say while my hand was shaking with the ticket in my hand, tears came out and my voice was breaking into thousands of pieces.
PART 6
- Excuse me? how do you know me? and why are you crying?
- Luz... -I stopped in mid-sentence to think about what I was going to say, just tell her that she had disappeared and that for 7 years I have been looking for her, so I came up with a solution, I took out my cell phone and put the screen on her face.
- What do you mean?
- What do you mean, that what? -I answered grumpily.
- You change your mood quickly, a moment ago you were shrieking, but now you're sulky.
- But you will be,' I took a deep breath and proceeded to explain, 'just look at the screen.
- Aha And?
¬- Did you see what date it is?
- Should I see the date?
- You should see the date.
- I already saw it
- So?
- What are you getting at?
- Can you read the date out loud, please?
- Is this a fetish of yours?
- Please...
- Sunday, October 31, 2021.
- ¿Y?
- So what? So what?
- For God's sake, don't you realize it?
- Realize what, it's obviously a bad joke, if today is March 24, 2014. I think I'll report you to your supervisor, that's no way to treat customers, sir?
- Hey, I'll be 21 soon brat, behave yourself.
- Yeah whatever you say, but what's your name, I can't report you if I don't know your name.
- Look, here's my ID, come on, behave yourself.
- Brael Antonio de la Cruz Montes,' she whispered as her voice cracked. She trembled a little and I hugged her, she hugged me back as she sobbed.
-How?
- Even I have no idea, but wipe your tears with my shirt, come on.
- Are you sure?
- I really am, don't worry.
- Thank you.
The movie ended, I helped and guided the customers to the exit, my sister all the time remained behind me, hidden, her eyes shining and her cheeks red. After the room emptied, we embraced again and I bent down to explain the situation to her. She kept her hands over her mouth, repressing the pain and anguish, I stroked her head and led her out of the theater. Outside she looked around her, with a coarse curiosity, she kept spinning on her own axis, I put my hands on her shoulders and asked her to stay there on some nearby stairs, while I went to her supervisor to ask permission to leave for some excuse what she would think of on the way to her office. Lucero clung fearfully to my shirt with her fingers, but I made it clear that I would come back for her and that nothing was going to keep us apart again, because we are family, and the big brother's responsibility is to take care of his little sister. I had failed once, however, this time it would be different, I could feel it.
EPILOGUE
It sounds weird to put Epilogue because all this is not over yet, but if I put it this way is because I love to read in my spare time, so I hope you don't mind me taking this liberty. I will summarize what happened next to move on to what is important: I didn't even have to lie to my parents when I took her home, they recognized her immediately, and after a long hug, I explained in detail everything that had happened at the cinema, days later talking more calmly we decided to change her name Lucero, she agreed because we would draw too much attention if suddenly someone who had been missing for 7 years, came back safe, sound and with the same age. It's been a week since then, I'm just writing this after receiving a message from Andreas, explaining everything that is happening a few minutes ago, and this just got more interesting.
Andreas Corelli 11:34 pm
Jul3n I hope your sister made it home safe and sound and you were able to annoy that man in the hat, he is quite a nuisance, you may wonder how did he know your sister would be back? Well my little grasshopper, I hope you put on some horror music and pay attention, because from this shit you are never the same.
You and your sister are ANOMALIES, what do I mean? An AN ANOMALY is that which should not exist, yet it exists and is maintained despite its difficulties. Forgive the ambiguity of the quote, it's just that I got it in my head that way too, now I'll go with the explanation to make it clearer. Your sister and you must have died a long time ago, maybe since your birth or some critical moment in your childhood, where you met death and for various reasons came back to life, and you are still standing, surely right now you remember when you were about to die, although in reality you died and were reborn. Making clear this concept, which is essential that you explain it to your sister or not, I will leave it to your choice, and that is that, because of us, another dimension was created indirectly, obviously. I will ask you another question: Why do you think there are cases of unexplained or incredible disappearances? Where the last moments are recorded at the entrance of a parking lot, or in a recurring place and they are never seen again, and it is because when they enter through a door, they enter something that I call 'Liminal Space' I guess you know them, although it has another name and my colleagues call it 'Backrooms', and in fact there are establishments that really are Backrooms in the other dimension and that you MUST avoid at all costs. By the way, I forgot to tell you that I am part of a worldwide organization that helps people like you and your sister who have no idea of these capabilities to survive.
After laying out the concepts, let's get down to the nitty gritty. No one controls when to enter the other dimension, it just happens, to exit is the same, it just happens. We have not been able to elucidate if someone or something controls these exits and entrances at will of us, the anomalies, but I can tell you that you can avoid them, and it is by developing a kind of 'feeling', something like Spiderman's spider sense, exactly as you think, because you just 'feel' when in an automatic door, or an ordinary door, that little tingle at the back of your head, of alert and worry, however I have bad news for you, you can only develop it after entering the liminal space and survive at least once, I hope you don't get mad at me, I don't set the rules, I just decipher them to survive. It's true, I almost forgot, the experiences are totally individual and collective at the same time, besides the time spent outside the real world is very different, what do I mean, your sister went in 7 years ago, however, a fellow of ours nicknamed 'Kavinski' who lives in your city and you should thank him, he went in because he had a bad feeling, and following his instincts, he managed to see your sister and help her to come back, maybe your sister did not mention it at the moment, but give her patience, she was almost devoured in there. Now I guess you will be conflicted because I mentioned that the exits from the liminal spaces are random, and yes, but Kavinski is besides an anomaly, he is a 'Joker', they are special subjects that are able to determine when they can leave and enter at will, although of course, they are only 50% chance, we lost many taking out that percentage, so don't just thank him, invite him a pizza or something.
Finally, I know you have had enough: Kavinski asked me to comment to you that within three weeks a door would open, and that together with him and another one like you, he can give them a safe tour to develop that 'feeling' so they can fend for themselves, and yes, there are other types of anomalies that are able to have premonitions, all anomalies after returning from liminal space develop an ability, we already have several categories, and I would encourage you to go on the tour, I promise it is safe and Kavinski is one of the best men I know, besides you will meet those who decided to stay in hell. Good night and sleep well.
After thinking about it for a while, maybe it would be a good experiment to develop that *sense* and be able to protect myself and my sister. What do you guys think, do I go, stay and wait to be trapped with no one to help me? I'll write later if something interesting happens, see you.
Disclaimer: I'm Mexican and I use a translator, I have b2 level of English, but I'm lazy, please, don't riddle me, any doubt I'll pass it to Andreas, and no, I named this profile because of the enigma it causes me, and in case someone knows it.
2021.12.20 23:42 mcc85sdp(PSDMaster[FightingEntropy]) - 12/20/21
[Fancy(Introduction)]
Hi, my name is Michael Cook. I'm an application developer, design artist, and system engineer AKA DevOps Engineer
The purpose of this post is to discuss and examine the PowerShell Deployment process, and to enhance it's capabilities. [FightingEntropy] is a module for PowerShell that features system management controls (among many other functions) for both the Microsoft Deployment Toolkit, AND PowerShell Deployment, and a core component of the module is PowerShell Deployment.
[Point]
The point is to treat these processes as alternate methods of achieving the same end result. Moreover, the PowerShell Deployment process has untapped potential in providing even more capabilities than your typical, standard-issue Microsoft Deployment Toolkit process... but- Either way you look at it...? This module [FightingEntropy] stands to make administration of both processes, a lot easier for everybody, and when people might be out there playing games...? You won't be. Because you'll be using this powerful tool that doesn't mess around or play games.
I know what you're probably thinking... 'Alright man. Just how powerful IS this tool anyway, hm?' Heh... *chuckle* Can't believe you would ask me a hypothetical question like that... but- since you've forced my hand? I will tell you...
[Fancy(Hype)]
[Focus] - The focus of this post is the [PSDMaster] project, essentially deploying the entire [PSDMaster] project to a living instance of a deployment share. The module has the capability of deploying, configuring, and deleting these shares all from the GUI.
[Explain - What This Is, and Where I'm @]
Now, I don't know if the description thus far perhaps, made you feel a little green around the gills, or gave you butterflies or not... maybe you felt a sudden urge to double up on your underwear because of how intense this thing sounds so far...
Well, don't sweat it. No reason to poop your pants. I know this thing sounds intense, but really, it's a cakewalk.
The state of this (function/module), AND, how useful it will be for anyone running [MDT] shares who want to enable [PSD] extensions... can't be understated. Also, being able to swap in the new components to install a brand new IIS MDT server is probably worth discussion, because even if someone wants to do that, then securing that method raises several concerns over network and internet security. Or even getting this thing working over VPN connections with the requirements to do that being built in...
[Aside: Mr. (NystromArwidmark) &/ MTN/Merlin.] I'm looking to take configuration of this thing to the extreme, as well as adding a number of new components and tools that don't yet exist... Input from the original authors is most definitely welcome... but also... I'm not sure how this process works for inheriting FriendsOfMDT scripts as a base, if I need your permission to repackage it and upgrade? If so, may I request permission to do so?
# [Preview/Demonstration (12/4/2021) [1600x900] approx. 2hrs.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yQr06_rA4I
I posted this video which covers the [FightingEntropy] module being installed and used, in the MDT forum recently. Installation of this module allowed for me to deploy a brand spanking new [PSD] share that was created, and then updated by the GUI, and then, a virtual machine is able to successfully boot from the [PSD] share created in the same video... by only using the GUI.
These guys probably understand just how much work I've put into this project. I want to make sure that it is a seamless presentation from beginning to end, mainly because many people try to ignore or write off my capabilities or determination. I ALSO posted this in the PowerShell forum where I went into depth about the content of the video.
Seeing as this is clearly focused on advancing MDT and PSD, it makes the most sense to put this here.
As for this video... It's a long video (2hrs). I know plenty of authors cut and section off their demonstrations, but I prefer a live capture approach. If I ever get access to a huge development bankroll where I can build myself a luxurious 4K studio, then I will go to town and start adding a bunch of flair to my demonstrations like IDK, Linus Media Group does.
Haven't been concerned with all of that quite yet.
Cutting the video into (pieces/sections) isn't a bad idea. But- I don't think that (cutting/shortening) it allows potential [students] to see the process (unfold/expand) in real-time. Which, learning how the process works when it's cut into sections may cause potential issues where the problem was fixed during a scene that was cut out of the video.
Or, perhaps an issue occurs during the stream, so troubleshooting it in real-time shows others a way to learn how to do that too.
However, doing that on a constant basis is pretty difficult to make entertaining... ...and I'm no GeoHotz. Not yet anyway.
Perhaps leaving some instructions PLUS some video and graphics may provide a more interactive way to introduce people to the thing I've spent the last 3 years slowly piecing together.
[Fancy(3_years)]
# [Other Reddit link] : Explains what's happening in the video link above[FightingEntropy(π)] FEInfrastructure Preview/Demo : PowerShell (reddit.com)
[10-15m] (Extracting/Building *.wim) files for the deployment share from the ISO list[15-20m] (Updating/Creating FE###:) deployment share[30-45m] (Install Target VM in New PSDEnvironment)
Note: Look, if you don't like virtual machines...? That's okay. Veridian can be temperamental at times... There exists no virtualization hypervisor that is without some type of flaw or drawback... However, Hyper-V was created with the best stuff in mind, and is rock solid.
But, don't take my word for it...
When asked about the best virtualization software out there..? Some guys at Microsoft probably said 'Already did that... it's calledHyper-V.', PCGamer probably said: 'Obviously if you want the best,Hyper-V, no question...' 5 other top magazine type websites: 'Hyper-Vdoes amazing things, always.'
Regardless, Hyper-V is also known as Veridian. Some people may say I'm overselling this Hyper-V... ...and that Oracle and Vmware are also great... ...and while they are... ...others may say I'm giving Hyper-V the credit it truly deserves.
My association with Hyper-V goes way back to Virtual PC 2007... that's what it used to be called. Didn't know that PowerShell could be used to configure and deploy virtual machines... ...but, that was a long time ago. Virtual PC 2007 eventually became... Hyper-V/Veridian.
Regardless, virtualization software is not necessary to use this process as it is meant to work on physical hardware too. So whether you're using virtualization or not...? I just gave Hyper-V an endorsement because of how awesome it is.
Eventually, the module will ALSO support: Todo: Media drive bootingTodo: Wifi connectionTodo: IIS/BITS site/share creationTodo: BrancheCache (I haven't touched any of that quite yet)Todo: StorageVHD
As for the video demonstration, it can be skipped if you would prefer. Part of the reason why YouTube and uncut videos are so great, is that if a person wants to fast forward through a bunch of stuff...? Nothin's stoppin' em from doin' that...
Being able to watch the process unfold from beginning to end demonstrates that the process IS able to manage itself that entire time. That's the real reason I don't cut the videos. Because if someone wants to discredit the work I did, or that I copied someone else's work that I didn't give credit to, or even tell me that I pieced everything together and doctored the video...? Then the video clearly shows that I am not doing that at all.
Perhaps after I start publishing this module on a regular basis, I can start to slice it all into sections, but- I'm just getting started here. And I thought that making this guide would help people get into the nuts and bolts of this thing... maybe someone would see it, and be so impressed that they thought to offer me some type of sponsorship. Who knows.
It's probably most helpful to show this process as an ebbing, and flowing, interactive-learning utility.
While I don't recommend testing this thing as much as I do...? (whenever I'm actually working on PSD scripts, I have to rebuild the images constantly, not sure there's a way around it...) perhaps having a collaborative effort would cut down on making changes to it. But besides that, I'm pretty close to issuing a full public release.While the video is about (2hrs) total, it only takes that long because my equipment isn't that great.
I'm about to post in depth, as to what the heck this [FightingEntropy(π)] project even is... and, where would one start, in order to (runuse) it, because the Microsoft Deployment Toolkit (AKA Top-Shelf Toolkit) is the core thing it is built around.
No games being played here, just knuckles being cracked, and getting down to business. ---
[Installation]
The function (New-FEInfrastructure) integrates many functions of ADDS, ADUC, ADSS, Active Directory, ADObjects [users/computers, sites/services, subnetlists], DHCP/DNS/WDS/IIS, Hyper-V
However, in order to use it, the module [FightingEntropy] needs to be installed first. To install the module, open a PowerShell console as an administrator, and then set the script execution policy to allow the installation script to run.
Then, you may run the following. To install [FightingEntropy(π)] :
To remove [FightingEntropy(π)]:
If the guy from the PowerShell Reddit decides to randomly show up, and he even sees what I just did there...? He's probably gonna leave a comment that says 'You shouldn't use aliases like that... utterly reprehensible Michael. Shame on you...' But, since I predict that he will try to do that...? I'm going to explain what those aliases are... just to rip the wind out of that dude's sails.
irm = Invoke-RestMethod iex = Invoke-Expression
There's nothing wrong with using aliases, but if you're going to share code with other users, typically you want to use the full version of the command for comprehension.
----
[Dependencies]
If everything thus far hasn't explicitly stated that this post is mainly for discussion and examination of the [PSDMaster] modification... it is. But also, [PSDMaster] is the same thing as [FriendsofMdt/PSD]
The former is the original name of the project which was written by Mr. Neihaus, and then [FriendsOfMdt/PSD] continued THAT project, which is cowritten and extended by the authors of the Deployment Essentials book series, (Johan Arwidmark) and (Mykael Nystrom). [FriendsOfMdt/PSD] is also cowritten in some proportion, by Jordan Benzing and Soupman.
As it stands, there are a number of prerequisites to use this thing. The official [PSD] installation method causes a bit of confusion... because to people who may not know, the installation script is for installing the [PSD] modification scripts to an [MDT] installation, not to create a new share.
However, the Function: FightingEntropy/New-FEInfrastructure eliminates many potential issues when installing PSD or creating a new PSD share, because the interface validates a bunch of stuff BEFORE it updates the deployment share, and then that updated share works immediately.
Since the boot image creation process for [PSD] takes more time than standard [MDT] to include components that [MDT] does not include by default, it increases the size of the boot images, AND increases the time wimsrv takes to produce the boot images.
And, if you compile a boot image that has *any* script that throws an error...? Then ALL of the time you spent updating that boot image was completely wasted. Which sucks. Pretty sure nobody likes the feeling of having wasted a bunch of their own time (or money)... but, some people make an enterprise off of doing that to people.
Essentially what I'm saying, is that working with PowerShell Deployment is actually a real pain in the neck, because of how hard it is to do correctly... especially if you don't have an idea of what's happening, nor an example to work with.
This module is meant to eliminate many of the problems people have when attempting to use it... but also, to add in additional components which haven't been demonstrated yet.
If the Get-FEDCPromo function is used to spin up a domain controller, it will install ALL of those server prerequisites... but for the sake of simplicity, I'll discuss that function some other time.
To install the required [windows server dependencies]:
To install [MDT/ADK/WinPE] AFTER the [FightingEntropy] module is installed:
'Get-MdtModule' will install all 3 if they are not installed, or if the version number is not high enough.
I originally got this idea from one of the [FriendsofMDT/PSD] functions, but I used a class and then added those packages to a static file. I'd like to make it more dynamic and allow other versions to be used, but haven't felt an inherent need to do that yet.
Anyway, if they are all installed, it will then return $MDT file path, so that it can be piped like this...
...and then that loads up the Microsoft.Deployment.Toolkit.psd1 file and then you can literally go to town and start using it to install Windows automatically over a network, but... with style.
---
[Usage]
This utility [FightingEntropy] installs all dependencies to create deployment shares for:
- [Microsoft Deployment Toolkit]
- [PowerShell Deployment (Toolkit)]
- installs,
- configures,
- controls all of the MDT shares and WDS images/server.
New-FEInfrastructure tells the PowerShell console that you've decided to instantiate a new journey. Console: Fine. I'm loading the module now... Hold up a minute. Console: Alright, you gotta log in, to use this thing. ----
[Get-FEADLogin]: Validates login and if successful, returns DirectoryServices properties
Console: Alright, I'm gonna load each component. I'll also show the 1) time and 2) date, plus the 3) thing I just loaded... Sound good? You: Uhhh, yeh. Console: Ok. Cool. Console: Hey, I got all the stuff you asked for... Here ya go. ----
[Module Information and Components]
While the console may not have an actual conversation with you...? The context is accurate.
As can be seen above, the GUI appears and it is displaying all of the module components, files, properties, and registry/module paths. I'm not going to cover *every* tab in this demo, as this thing is a bit complex.
Todo: At some point I intend to add hashing to each file. While adding another property to a class + datagrid component isn't very difficult, auditing every file would make the thing take longer to load.
-----
[Domain] : Panel for the Organization name, domain name, and creating AD Sites
The deployment share uses these values to determine the OUOrg, and the DomainName. This panel does not need to be fully populated for use with the [MDT/PSD] controller, but it was fully populated to demonstrate how it processes and presents the input it is given.
-----
[Image Controller]: Extracts (*.wim) files from (*.iso) files to import to MDT
This panel allows an image path to be accessed to load potential (*.iso) files, and when an image is selected, it can be mounted to extract (*.wim) files... but- only if the (*.iso) happens to be a legitimate Windows (*.iso) file... any other image type will reject the image, and unmount it in this context.
If the (*.iso) file IS a Windows Image, then it will process the content of the (*.iso) after mounting, and extract key properties of each index, and return the (*.iso) content with each of the corresponding (*.wim) files labeled with their proper index, name, size and architecture.
A single item or multiple items may be selected in the (*.wim) selector box, and if they are, then they are added to the queue extraction box. At which point the image may be unmounted, to mount a new (*.iso). Rinse, recycle, repeat these operations for each desired imagefile and imagename... or don't.
The extraction process may take several minutes depending on how many final images are queued. Once they are all extracted, the extraction path may be used to import them into the update controller, or in the MDT controller.
-----
[UpdateController]: Not fully implemented, allows updates to be applied to (*.wim) files
This is the [UpdateController] which is not yet fully implemented, even though it only needs a couple of tweaks to be usable. This tab will slipstream updates into the final Windows Images to be injected into [MDT/WDS] Boot images.
-----
[MdtController]: The bread and butter of this whole journey
Loads the controller that can (create/delete/deploy) [MDT/PSD] shares. It can also edit and set the properties of the drive to the registry. It can also update a selected drive, change settings, property values, select a different deployment share and then do a bunch of stuff there too... It also includes a way to import the (operating system/task sequences) as individual items.
That means, there's a task sequence that is automatically generated as a default, if an operating system is imported into the deployment share.
I've been attempting to build a tool that has feature parity between [MDT/PSD]. I have in the past, taken regular [MDT] sharing capabilities to the next level... but now I'm back for a larger challenge... Taking the [PSD] process to the next level now.
----
[PSDModules]
Anyway, there are multiple files that I've modified for [PSDMaster] to be installable whenever a deployment share is created, and they're listed in the graphic above, as well as below with a link to the copy I've been working on and making amendments to.
[PSDGather] : Collects/Restores PS Variables and general system information https://github.com/mcc85s/FightingEntropy/blob/main/Functions/PSDGather.psm1
[PSDDeploymentShare] : Deployment Share Items, Content, Connections, Credentials https://github.com/mcc85s/FightingEntropy/blob/main/Functions/PSDDeploymentShare.psm1
[PSDUtility] : Various tools for testing (connectivity/sanity) https://github.com/mcc85s/FightingEntropy/blob/main/Functions/PSDUtility.psm1
[PSDWizard] : Graphical user interface controller https://github.com/mcc85s/FightingEntropy/blob/main/Functions/PSDWizard.psm1[PSDStart] : The script that allows a task sequence to begin, or resume https://github.com/mcc85s/FightingEntropy/blob/main/Functions/PSDStart.ps1
The current scripts I've been editing DO work, but- I have been going through, line-by-line, trying to figure out if there's an easier (collection/gathering) method as many of the functions in these modules sort of repeat themselves... and that can be easily seen by reviewing some of the deployment log files.
It sure would be nice to have control of the BDDRUN module, so I wouldn't have to recompile the boot images, and then I could test these changes live... But, not quite sure how I'd get that up to test.
As it stands, setting up a test machine is pretty simple, and I can test the scripts on a particular machine by manually connecting to the updated files, but if I have to shut down, reboot, or wipe the slate clean, then they have to be injected again. Besides, once an instance of BDDRun is stuck or what have you... sometimes the changes to the script files don't translate over to TSEnv:
Either way you look at it, it's complicated to update these files - because you're either going to wait a half hour for the boot images to recycle and update, or you'll have 'execution context' errors.
----
Prior to writing this post, I'd taken several days off... Building a brand new boot image every time I want to edit PSDStart or whichever takes a good 20 min on this machine... and at many points, I tend to lose my train of thought or get sidetracked.
I've made many, many revisions to the entire process as well. I've even been attempting to convert some more of the (*.wsf) files (I don't quite understand VBScript syntax), and I was rebuilding the ZTIJoinDomain.wsf file... but- I'm not entirely certain that's necessary.
The [PSD
] method does not join the domain. The [MDT] method does.There are a lot of things I'd like to rewrite within BDDRun.exe I have no clue how to do that though.
I'd speculate that these guys probably finished all of this work in System Center, but I have no idea. -----
[Current]
As for 'current status'...? I've had the tool working, after the video above, I had a version that was fully deploying the operating system and bringing back the [TSProgressUI.exe] with a 'task completed' window... but the PSD process was not joining the domain. Otherwise, I had the operating system installing, and the task scheduler made it to complete. So, the [PSD] process appears to break a lot.
Controlling a process that breaks a lot isn't easy. Especially if you're working with this complicated series of modules, manifests, scripts to be copied, files to be sought for, volumes to be queried, and log files being written to places that get shuffled around so often, your head begins to spin.
So, in order to get the parts to work, [MDT] and [PSD] feature parity with the New-FEInfrastructure tool... it is imperative to have some of the work explained, shared, and demonstrated. Otherwise, I'm just gonna be this dog that keeps running in circles chasing my tail.
Me: Ah... there it is... my tail. *starts chasing it* Me: I'm gonna get this damn thing if it's the last thing I do... *still chasing it* Me: It's literally *right there*. WHY can I not reach this thing? *still chasing it* Me: I'm tired... Forget it.
---
Note for the official PSDMeisters...
It's not executing any post installation scripts after the OS is installed. Which, bummer man. $coolfactor hit zero a while back, $interestfactor is slowly draining, and my $stressfactor is growing...
Now I'm playing whackamole, everywhere I look.
Anyway... Tried adding a new task sequence to the template, but that's not getting it to kick over. vanilla MDT process appears to break upon running the post installation script, producing: 'Your deployment failed : (7) errors, buddy.' Wasn't doing that a while back, it is probably the execution policy.
As for the PSD side... Windows does fully install, but then it loads the desktop and just sits there. Watching. Waiting. Waiting for what...? Who knows, man.
I can re-engage it manually, but then again, I'd prefer the auto route fixing
I mean, I hate to take a page from the tootsie roll commercial... but I am curious.
How many times does the image need to be touched, before it is no longer considered a lite touch image...? Is the image name changed to a mediumtouch image if it passes that threshold...? or, heavy touch image...?
The world may never know.
I've been dabbling with a bunch of classes and functions to reduce the redundancy and/or resiliency of the ZTIGather stuff. If the class object can collect enough information in the beginning of the PSDStart.ps1 file, maybe it can identify all of the (variables/properties) needed to 100% of the time, precisely determine how far along the task sequence is... because the current method seems like a shot in the dark each and every time.
One that costs about a half hour to rebuild the image...
As I understand it, this is what I'm using to grab the volumes because 'Get-Volume' has consistency issues.
Tried to extend the function to the ZTIJoinDomain.wsf file, but I haven't gotten that working.
Some of the revisions include a way to collect all of the volumes that have a DriveLetter, and the intent was to use this one function to span across all of the instances in PSDstart.ps1 to determine: - where the system is in the task sequence - are there variables in the tsenv: that need to be restored - are there variables in the $DriveVariables.dat which might offset the process - does Scrooge McDuck actually swim around in a bunch of coins in his own personal bank... or is that for show? if it is for show, is there a way to determine how much money you'd need to have in real life, to literally be able to do what Scrooge McDuck does with his coin-swimming antics...?
Some of these questions may never be truly answered... but- maybe some of them will be.
- MC
submitted bymcc85sdptoMDT [link][comments]
2021.12.20 19:16 ta_findapathI (27F) feel insecure in my relationship, and I don't know what additional steps to take...
I've been dating my boyfriend (25M) for about a year now. Things... were not always the best, but it's getting better, and I do love him.
However, I started off this relationship feeling very secure, and now I realize I feel pretty insecure. I believe it's due to two reasons: 1, he admires other women both in front of me and when I'm away and 2, he's not genuine all of the time.
To explain #1: Before I start, I'd like to say I don't mind if my boyfriend likes girls' Instagram posts, as long as he doesn't comment/follow them and it's not excessive. We both talked about this in the beginning of the relationship. However, not too long ago, I found he follows a BUNCH of women who post half-naked photos. Some of them started their account months after we started dating, so he followed them while we were in a relationship. And, he has liked a bunch of their photos. Same thing with Facebook - I randomly came across a picture of some girl who posted a booty picture 1 month ago, and he 'hearted' it. Then in person, sometimes when we're watching a movie and a hot girl comes on the screen, or the main girl character starts stripping, he'd automatically go 'mmm!' or would say 'damn she's sexy'. I tried talking to him about it - more so about why he does it in front of me when I'm his girlfriend - and he said he'll stop, but he hasn't. I think what makes me feel insecure is that none of them look like me - I'm petite and a black woman, whereas the women he follows/comments on are white/Hispanic with big bums and stuff. To top it off too, he admitted to me a couple of months ago that before he met me, he didn't like black women since we didn't have the physical and personality traits he was looking for in a woman. But then he met me, thought I was cute, decided to give me a shot, and then we hit it off and now he looks to me as a person to marry one day. But IDK, this just rubbed me off the wrong way...
And to explain #2: I've realized he's not always genuine. I've caught him saying tiny lies multiple times. For example, he never saw Squid Games but when the conversation came up at a family gathering, he said he watched it and didn't like the English voice acting (which was my opinion that I told him). Or there are times in the beginning of our relationship where I'd ask his opinion on something, and he'd repeat exactly what I said almost word to word, but later in our relationship I've found that he didn't think the same way. And to tie it back to #1 - this weekend, we were lying down next to each other, and he shows me his Instagram explore page. He goes 'I don't know why, but my whole explore page is just half-naked women'. I tell him 'well, IG changes your explore page based off of the stuff you like or people you follow' and he goes 'well I don't like pictures like that at all, nor do I follow any women that post pictures like this.' He also said, 'I think it's sad when women post stuff like this because it's all for attention.' I really wanted to bring up what I saw but decided not to.
Putting this all together, I realized earlier this month that I feel pretty insecure. I've been having nightmares about him cheating on me out of nowhere. I hate that I feel this way, but I don't know what to do. Should I talk to him about it? And what should I say?
submitted byta_findapathtorelationship_advice [link][comments]However, I started off this relationship feeling very secure, and now I realize I feel pretty insecure. I believe it's due to two reasons: 1, he admires other women both in front of me and when I'm away and 2, he's not genuine all of the time.
To explain #1: Before I start, I'd like to say I don't mind if my boyfriend likes girls' Instagram posts, as long as he doesn't comment/follow them and it's not excessive. We both talked about this in the beginning of the relationship. However, not too long ago, I found he follows a BUNCH of women who post half-naked photos. Some of them started their account months after we started dating, so he followed them while we were in a relationship. And, he has liked a bunch of their photos. Same thing with Facebook - I randomly came across a picture of some girl who posted a booty picture 1 month ago, and he 'hearted' it. Then in person, sometimes when we're watching a movie and a hot girl comes on the screen, or the main girl character starts stripping, he'd automatically go 'mmm!' or would say 'damn she's sexy'. I tried talking to him about it - more so about why he does it in front of me when I'm his girlfriend - and he said he'll stop, but he hasn't. I think what makes me feel insecure is that none of them look like me - I'm petite and a black woman, whereas the women he follows/comments on are white/Hispanic with big bums and stuff. To top it off too, he admitted to me a couple of months ago that before he met me, he didn't like black women since we didn't have the physical and personality traits he was looking for in a woman. But then he met me, thought I was cute, decided to give me a shot, and then we hit it off and now he looks to me as a person to marry one day. But IDK, this just rubbed me off the wrong way...
And to explain #2: I've realized he's not always genuine. I've caught him saying tiny lies multiple times. For example, he never saw Squid Games but when the conversation came up at a family gathering, he said he watched it and didn't like the English voice acting (which was my opinion that I told him). Or there are times in the beginning of our relationship where I'd ask his opinion on something, and he'd repeat exactly what I said almost word to word, but later in our relationship I've found that he didn't think the same way. And to tie it back to #1 - this weekend, we were lying down next to each other, and he shows me his Instagram explore page. He goes 'I don't know why, but my whole explore page is just half-naked women'. I tell him 'well, IG changes your explore page based off of the stuff you like or people you follow' and he goes 'well I don't like pictures like that at all, nor do I follow any women that post pictures like this.' He also said, 'I think it's sad when women post stuff like this because it's all for attention.' I really wanted to bring up what I saw but decided not to.
Putting this all together, I realized earlier this month that I feel pretty insecure. I've been having nightmares about him cheating on me out of nowhere. I hate that I feel this way, but I don't know what to do. Should I talk to him about it? And what should I say?
2021.12.20 08:20 fainting--goatI was born twelve minutes after midnight
The first year I posted.
The second year I posted.
I went back to where it all started. To where I was born dead and to where I was somehow brought back. I told my parents I was going out of town for my birthday, bought plane tickets, and rented a car when I landed. I drove to a modest sized town with a single hospital. In my jacket pocket were copies of my birth certificate and my death certificate.
I was born twelve minutes after midnight, according to the birth certificate. My parents finally told me that wasn’t true. I was born at midnight, but I was quickly whisked away and returned later with no explanation. 12:12 AM is the time that was written on the birth certificate. And my parents didn’t find out the truth until they left the hospital and found a death certificate left under their windshield wiper. Filled out, but never filed.
I talked with dad some more over the past year about this. Mom doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s trying to forget it ever happened, I think. But dad… dad is still mad, all these years later. Angry about how he never got answers, about how the hospital blocked his attempts to contact the doctor that filled out the death certificate at every turn. We talked quite a bit about this and once I was convinced I knew everything, I started doing some digging of my own.
The doctor in question no longer works there. He unfortunately has a common enough name that I was unable to find where he moved to. That’s a dead end. Similarly, I made no progress with the hospital administration. The best I got was a half-hearted admission that perhaps some paperwork was filled erroneously and some miscommunication happened, but that was so long ago and it was unlikely anyone that remembered what happened still worked there. They understood my frustration, they told me, but it’d just be one of those things I’d never find out.
I wish I could just learn to accept that and move on. I would, if the stakes weren’t so high. But every year in those twelve minutes the void comes for me, trying to undo whatever mistake was made all those years back. Last year I lost my friend. She simply ceased to exist. I’m not going to let the void take anyone else and I certainly am not going to let it take me.
I’m tired of greeting my birthday with dread every year. I’m sick of having to run from death. I’m angry. I’m frustrated. And you know what?
I really don’t like running. It’s a shitty hobby. I can’t believe people do this for fun.
I planned my trip to give me a few days in advance of my birthday to scout out the hospital. My plan was to wander over to the nursery and if I got caught by a nurse, just pretend I was lost. When I got to that part of the hospital, I realized it was a lot newer than the rest of the building. I quickly found a fancy sign that thanked the generous donors that made the addition possible. It was built five years ago. So that obviously wasn’t what I was looking for.
I went back to the main entrance and chatted with the person at the desk after that, when it looked like he wasn’t very busy. I was waiting for my aunt to get out of surgery, I said, and was just killing time. Then I casually asked what was made out of the old nursery wing, because my mother used to work there before she retired.
It was all just inpatient rooms now, he said. Might even be where my aunt wound up, once surgery was done. I got the floor number from him and then made my excuses to leave. Not that he cared. It’s amazing how easy it is to just walk around somewhere when you look like you know what you’re doing.
I scouted the floor but didn’t see anything unusual. I mean… I didn’t expect to. If there was anything weird going on then I’m sure someone would have noticed by now. I was more just trying to find out if there was a decent escape route.
I didn’t want to run down the hallway in case anyone saw me, so my plan is to head down the stairwell. From watching it through the day it was clear hardly no one used it, so I wouldn’t run into anyone. I’m not very confident on how fast I’ll be on the stairs - I mean, I’m in great shape from running all the time, but it’s still a heck of a gamble to take. But I just feel that if I don’t take this opportunity to find out more of what’s happening, I’ll be running from this my entire life. I hate living in fear of this one night for the rest of the year. I have to do something.
So. I’ve got my route.
And that brings us up-to-date. I’ve scheduled this to automatically post, so if there’s nothing after this bit, that means I wasn’t fast enough.
Can’t tell you how glad I am to be able to put that strikethrough in.
I’m still shaking from adrenaline so I’ll just finish this up with an update and maybe by then I’ll have calmed down enough to go to bed.
I waited until midnight. I kept an eye on my watch so I could count the very seconds. I was poised to flee as soon as anything came at me. As midnight approached I felt something pressing down around me, like the pressure change from an airplane taking off. I swallowed and my ears popped. I heard a sound like a bubbling, like a hot tub somewhere was running, except it was all around me.
Then it was midnight and…
There was nothing to run from. The void had swallowed up the entire hospital. One minute I was standing alone with the harsh fluorescent light illuminating the drab walls and the next it had all changed. It was like every surface was dipped in ink. The darkness ran together and I could no longer see where the walls joined the floor. The overhead lights still shone, but the walls and the floor simply swallowed up the light. It was like staring at a single flat plane that just went on and on into eternity. I could only stare at it for a few seconds before vertigo made my head swim and I desperately squeezed my eyes shut and put out a hand, trying to ground myself with the feel of the wall. The texture of the once-beige paint beneath my fingers was the only thing that reassured me that I was still in this world.
The pressure around me was increasing. It felt hard to breathe. I opened my eyes and desperately looked for the stairwell. I had to get out of here. I had to escape before the void closed again and took me with it. I didn’t know if that was what would happen, but it was what I was thinking, panicking as my worst fears were realized.
I was inside the void. I’d made a terrible, fatal, error. That was all I could think of.
I found the door to the stairs by feel. My hands passed over the frame, indistinguishable from the rest of the blackness, and then found the bar that opened them. I stared down into an abyss. An empty hole in the world. Tentatively, I slid one foot forwards and felt stable ground. Another. I waved my hands out in front of me, desperately seeking the railing of the stairs. My brain was screaming at me that I was standing on nothingness, that the ground beneath me couldn’t possibly be solid, and I was too scared to even lift my foot. I shuffled awkwardly forward until I found the railing and then I clung to this like I was drowning.
The first step was the hardest. I located the edge with my toes and then gingerly lowered myself down. After that, I let my body take over, as I knew by instinct how tall each step would be. I reached the first landing and pivoted around to the next set, my hands clutched tight on the railing I could not see.
Ahead of me was the next floor. I could see its landing clearly. The void ended a few steps away.
The hands grabbed me at the border. The void seized hold of my ankles, my arms, my clothing. It didn’t want me to leave.
I twisted in their grasp, my throat seized up with terror so that I could barely breath, much less scream. I let go of the railing to strike at them, trying to break their hold. The ones I hit shattered like glass, but there were still more pouring out of the void to replace them. They seized my hair and then fingers wrapped around my neck.
My watch beeped at me as the timer I set went off. Eleven minutes and fifty seconds after midnight. In desperation, I shoved off the step, and let the weight of my body carry me forward.
And then it was twelve minutes after midnight, as I tumbled forward into the light and out of the void.
I only fell four steps, thankfully. It still hurt. I was so shocked by that point that I just lay there, panting and staring at the walls. I barely registered the pain. I was just grateful to be alive.
“Ma'am?” a voice above me said.
I blinked, reeling. There was a nurse kneeling over me, watching with concern. I must have been a sight - on the ground, pale, shaking, dripping in cold sweat. I tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come, so she helped me get up and sit on one of the stairs. She asked a few things - I can’t remember quite what - to make sure I wasn’t hurt and we sat side-by-side for a moment while I recovered my wits.
I asked her if she’d seen anything, when my heart had slowed enough that I could catch my breath. Something that couldn’t be explained. She said she hadn’t with a reflexive ease that I have to suspect she’d said this many times before, perhaps to patients that were awake at midnight. Maybe it was because I was freaked out and not thinking straight, because I did something risky. I took out the copies of my birth and death certificate and handed them to her.
I told her I died here, right at midnight. That no one told my parents, at least, not in an official capacity. She looked close to my age so I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish. Everyone that worked here during my birth was likely long gone before she came to the hospital.
She smoothed out the creases in the paper and drew in a sharp breath.
“I didn’t see anything,” she said, “but something felt wrong. It always does when midnight comes around.”
She paused and took a deep breath.
“It… felt especially wrong tonight. I was scared to go upstairs. And then… there you were. Like you appeared out of thin air.”
Then she asked me what I saw.
So I told her.
There was a rumor, she said. Among the hospital nurses. The doctors don’t pay it any heed, but the nurses and the rest of the staff that control where patients are placed do. No one that has any risk of dying are placed in these rooms. They call it the Bermuda Triangle. A little cluster of roughly a dozen rooms where the outcomes are never good.
And the funny thing is, she said, that before everyone started being careful about what patients went into these rooms, the people in them always died at the same time.
Midnight.
I asked how long this has been going on. My heart hammered in my chest. Did it start with my birth? Or did it cause my death?
She doesn’t know. But she’s going to try to find out. She lost a patient, she said, years ago when she first started working there. He coded and died in under a minute, as soon as the clock struck twelve. She’d reviewed it over and over in her head, trying to find what went wrong - what she’d missed that he could have deteriorated so quietly as the night progressed. Then an older nurse pulled her aside and told her it wasn’t her fault, that they’d put him in the Triangle and that was on them.
She didn’t want to believe it. Not at first. But, she said quietly, staring down the empty hallway, something always felt off about this part of the hospital. She didn’t seem to want to elaborate and I didn’t pry. I was emotionally drained enough already.
I gave her my number and got hers in return. We’re going to keep in touch. She’s going to try to find out more and I promised to help however I can as well.
And when next year rolls around… well, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.
submitted byfainting--goattonosleep [link][comments]The second year I posted.
I went back to where it all started. To where I was born dead and to where I was somehow brought back. I told my parents I was going out of town for my birthday, bought plane tickets, and rented a car when I landed. I drove to a modest sized town with a single hospital. In my jacket pocket were copies of my birth certificate and my death certificate.
I was born twelve minutes after midnight, according to the birth certificate. My parents finally told me that wasn’t true. I was born at midnight, but I was quickly whisked away and returned later with no explanation. 12:12 AM is the time that was written on the birth certificate. And my parents didn’t find out the truth until they left the hospital and found a death certificate left under their windshield wiper. Filled out, but never filed.
I talked with dad some more over the past year about this. Mom doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s trying to forget it ever happened, I think. But dad… dad is still mad, all these years later. Angry about how he never got answers, about how the hospital blocked his attempts to contact the doctor that filled out the death certificate at every turn. We talked quite a bit about this and once I was convinced I knew everything, I started doing some digging of my own.
The doctor in question no longer works there. He unfortunately has a common enough name that I was unable to find where he moved to. That’s a dead end. Similarly, I made no progress with the hospital administration. The best I got was a half-hearted admission that perhaps some paperwork was filled erroneously and some miscommunication happened, but that was so long ago and it was unlikely anyone that remembered what happened still worked there. They understood my frustration, they told me, but it’d just be one of those things I’d never find out.
I wish I could just learn to accept that and move on. I would, if the stakes weren’t so high. But every year in those twelve minutes the void comes for me, trying to undo whatever mistake was made all those years back. Last year I lost my friend. She simply ceased to exist. I’m not going to let the void take anyone else and I certainly am not going to let it take me.
I’m tired of greeting my birthday with dread every year. I’m sick of having to run from death. I’m angry. I’m frustrated. And you know what?
I really don’t like running. It’s a shitty hobby. I can’t believe people do this for fun.
I planned my trip to give me a few days in advance of my birthday to scout out the hospital. My plan was to wander over to the nursery and if I got caught by a nurse, just pretend I was lost. When I got to that part of the hospital, I realized it was a lot newer than the rest of the building. I quickly found a fancy sign that thanked the generous donors that made the addition possible. It was built five years ago. So that obviously wasn’t what I was looking for.
I went back to the main entrance and chatted with the person at the desk after that, when it looked like he wasn’t very busy. I was waiting for my aunt to get out of surgery, I said, and was just killing time. Then I casually asked what was made out of the old nursery wing, because my mother used to work there before she retired.
It was all just inpatient rooms now, he said. Might even be where my aunt wound up, once surgery was done. I got the floor number from him and then made my excuses to leave. Not that he cared. It’s amazing how easy it is to just walk around somewhere when you look like you know what you’re doing.
I scouted the floor but didn’t see anything unusual. I mean… I didn’t expect to. If there was anything weird going on then I’m sure someone would have noticed by now. I was more just trying to find out if there was a decent escape route.
I didn’t want to run down the hallway in case anyone saw me, so my plan is to head down the stairwell. From watching it through the day it was clear hardly no one used it, so I wouldn’t run into anyone. I’m not very confident on how fast I’ll be on the stairs - I mean, I’m in great shape from running all the time, but it’s still a heck of a gamble to take. But I just feel that if I don’t take this opportunity to find out more of what’s happening, I’ll be running from this my entire life. I hate living in fear of this one night for the rest of the year. I have to do something.
So. I’ve got my route.
Can’t tell you how glad I am to be able to put that strikethrough in.
I’m still shaking from adrenaline so I’ll just finish this up with an update and maybe by then I’ll have calmed down enough to go to bed.
I waited until midnight. I kept an eye on my watch so I could count the very seconds. I was poised to flee as soon as anything came at me. As midnight approached I felt something pressing down around me, like the pressure change from an airplane taking off. I swallowed and my ears popped. I heard a sound like a bubbling, like a hot tub somewhere was running, except it was all around me.
Then it was midnight and…
There was nothing to run from. The void had swallowed up the entire hospital. One minute I was standing alone with the harsh fluorescent light illuminating the drab walls and the next it had all changed. It was like every surface was dipped in ink. The darkness ran together and I could no longer see where the walls joined the floor. The overhead lights still shone, but the walls and the floor simply swallowed up the light. It was like staring at a single flat plane that just went on and on into eternity. I could only stare at it for a few seconds before vertigo made my head swim and I desperately squeezed my eyes shut and put out a hand, trying to ground myself with the feel of the wall. The texture of the once-beige paint beneath my fingers was the only thing that reassured me that I was still in this world.
The pressure around me was increasing. It felt hard to breathe. I opened my eyes and desperately looked for the stairwell. I had to get out of here. I had to escape before the void closed again and took me with it. I didn’t know if that was what would happen, but it was what I was thinking, panicking as my worst fears were realized.
I was inside the void. I’d made a terrible, fatal, error. That was all I could think of.
I found the door to the stairs by feel. My hands passed over the frame, indistinguishable from the rest of the blackness, and then found the bar that opened them. I stared down into an abyss. An empty hole in the world. Tentatively, I slid one foot forwards and felt stable ground. Another. I waved my hands out in front of me, desperately seeking the railing of the stairs. My brain was screaming at me that I was standing on nothingness, that the ground beneath me couldn’t possibly be solid, and I was too scared to even lift my foot. I shuffled awkwardly forward until I found the railing and then I clung to this like I was drowning.
The first step was the hardest. I located the edge with my toes and then gingerly lowered myself down. After that, I let my body take over, as I knew by instinct how tall each step would be. I reached the first landing and pivoted around to the next set, my hands clutched tight on the railing I could not see.
Ahead of me was the next floor. I could see its landing clearly. The void ended a few steps away.
The hands grabbed me at the border. The void seized hold of my ankles, my arms, my clothing. It didn’t want me to leave.
I twisted in their grasp, my throat seized up with terror so that I could barely breath, much less scream. I let go of the railing to strike at them, trying to break their hold. The ones I hit shattered like glass, but there were still more pouring out of the void to replace them. They seized my hair and then fingers wrapped around my neck.
My watch beeped at me as the timer I set went off. Eleven minutes and fifty seconds after midnight. In desperation, I shoved off the step, and let the weight of my body carry me forward.
And then it was twelve minutes after midnight, as I tumbled forward into the light and out of the void.
I only fell four steps, thankfully. It still hurt. I was so shocked by that point that I just lay there, panting and staring at the walls. I barely registered the pain. I was just grateful to be alive.
“Ma'am?” a voice above me said.
I blinked, reeling. There was a nurse kneeling over me, watching with concern. I must have been a sight - on the ground, pale, shaking, dripping in cold sweat. I tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come, so she helped me get up and sit on one of the stairs. She asked a few things - I can’t remember quite what - to make sure I wasn’t hurt and we sat side-by-side for a moment while I recovered my wits.
I asked her if she’d seen anything, when my heart had slowed enough that I could catch my breath. Something that couldn’t be explained. She said she hadn’t with a reflexive ease that I have to suspect she’d said this many times before, perhaps to patients that were awake at midnight. Maybe it was because I was freaked out and not thinking straight, because I did something risky. I took out the copies of my birth and death certificate and handed them to her.
I told her I died here, right at midnight. That no one told my parents, at least, not in an official capacity. She looked close to my age so I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish. Everyone that worked here during my birth was likely long gone before she came to the hospital.
She smoothed out the creases in the paper and drew in a sharp breath.
“I didn’t see anything,” she said, “but something felt wrong. It always does when midnight comes around.”
She paused and took a deep breath.
“It… felt especially wrong tonight. I was scared to go upstairs. And then… there you were. Like you appeared out of thin air.”
Then she asked me what I saw.
So I told her.
There was a rumor, she said. Among the hospital nurses. The doctors don’t pay it any heed, but the nurses and the rest of the staff that control where patients are placed do. No one that has any risk of dying are placed in these rooms. They call it the Bermuda Triangle. A little cluster of roughly a dozen rooms where the outcomes are never good.
And the funny thing is, she said, that before everyone started being careful about what patients went into these rooms, the people in them always died at the same time.
Midnight.
I asked how long this has been going on. My heart hammered in my chest. Did it start with my birth? Or did it cause my death?
She doesn’t know. But she’s going to try to find out. She lost a patient, she said, years ago when she first started working there. He coded and died in under a minute, as soon as the clock struck twelve. She’d reviewed it over and over in her head, trying to find what went wrong - what she’d missed that he could have deteriorated so quietly as the night progressed. Then an older nurse pulled her aside and told her it wasn’t her fault, that they’d put him in the Triangle and that was on them.
She didn’t want to believe it. Not at first. But, she said quietly, staring down the empty hallway, something always felt off about this part of the hospital. She didn’t seem to want to elaborate and I didn’t pry. I was emotionally drained enough already.
I gave her my number and got hers in return. We’re going to keep in touch. She’s going to try to find out more and I promised to help however I can as well.
And when next year rolls around… well, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.
2021.12.20 05:31 13floppydisksP4S Plex Server USA/EU/Middle East Servers 📷 4K Content 📷 High Quality Media IPTV 10GBit Requests via Discord 1Pb Library Google Drive Shares Local Storage
Server Type: Pay 4 Share (Premium)Server Locations: USA
Europe
Middle East
Why you want US: Join US: https://discord.gg/jWHRCGMReS
So you go on netflix just to find that they stopped streaming the show.Oh no wait, it expired 2 months ago. And the show already moved to Disney Plus anyway. Frustrating isn't it?
That's where we come in. We find all the shows for you so you don't have to.
Make it easy to watch tv again. Pop on a nice movie for date night. Click on a nostalgic cartoon from your childhood. Watch that show or movie that you suddenly remembered today, but has stopped airing for a decade.
Just watch, we'll do the work.
✅ Largest library around
✅ Just watch. Nothing complicated to do.
✅ Tv updated automatically via bots hourly
✅ More than 1,000 TB of content. This means that we're around for the long-term
✅ More content than most places
✅ Paid through Paypal (safer for you)
✅ Location inside a Datacentre with Tier 1 uplinks. This means fast fast fast connections inside the USA, in the APAC region (South East Asia, Japan, Australia, etc) and in Europe (UK, Germany, etc)Middle East (UAE,Saudi Arabia,Jordan etc.). There might be a few countries we'll miss, but there won't be many!
LIBRARY
Movies 27,000+
TV Shows 8,500+
Anime 4,000+
4K Movies 1,200+
4K Tv 700+
Cartoons 900+
PRICE
Monthly Price USD 19.99
Annual Price USD 199 (10 Months + 2 free)
Lifetime Price USD 399
IPTV Plans
Monthly Price USD 20.99
6 Month Price USD $125
Annual Price USD 199
Lifetime Price USD 399
Created by experts dedicated app for android users.IPTV will work with multiple devices (Smart TV,roku,ios and more).Multiple streams offered.For more info join discord.
IPTV Trials can be provided to users with active plex sub
IPTV has additional VOD library free of charge,though library is smaller compared to plex
Google Drive Pricing on Discord
Instant Access
More then 10000 Movies and More than 7000 TV Series/Shows
Everything is provided with the MAXIMUM Quality available.
Great Prices! and 4K at NO EXTRA COST!
Why shouldn't I buy netflix instead?
We have TEN times (10x) their movies and double their shows. You could get Netflix + HBO-Max + Hulu + Disney-Plus + Amazon Prime Video for around $55 USD and you'd still have less movies than you can have with us!
- Should I drop my cable bill?
- Will you suddenly drop me and disappear?
- Why do you charge so much compared to some others?
You can take up an hour of my time asking how best to change the audio settings in your plex device, or you can send me questions in the middle of the night about a missing tv episode or the wrong audio track. We'll always be happy to help.
Just watch your tv, we'll do the work!
Discord Server: https://discord.gg/jWHRCGMReS
You can join only via discord!
submitted by13floppydiskstoplexshares [link][comments]
2021.12.19 19:45 Twack2theFutureMeth and Taxes (Part 1 of 2)
TL,DR: The story of how I, a meth addict, fell in love with a fellow meth addict and suspected pwBPD. How I let the relationship destroy my mental health, corrupt my integrity and my values, and lose all respect for myself; ultimately leaving me discarded and miserable. Then how I got my revenge post-discard for the closure I so desperately needed, which has in turn provided me with the strength to begin rebuilding my life—just before it reached the point of no return. All names have been changed.Forewarning: This story is pretty heavy on the details and involves many adult themes and subject matter, as well as many words and situations some may find triggering. Please read at your own discretion. Part 2 will be posted in a few days.
- = Anything with an asterisk beside it means that it came from the pwBPD and was later revealed to be bullshit.
I also love how it feels to be high on methamphetamine. I first started using about just over a year ago and I have used just about all day, every day ever since. I still loved to do good unto others. In fact, now it felt even better to help others. Everything felt better (this wears off. To state the obvious, don't ever try meth). I felt like a brand new man. At least I did for a while. In 6 months I went from feeling like I'd live forever, to feeling like living another minute would be 60 seconds too long. All it took was one person coming along and it all went to shit. Well the meth and being generally unstable probably didn't help, but still. Now, looking back at the last several months of my life, if I were a stranger looking in, I don't think I would call myself a good person. Hell, I don't know if I could even call myself much of a person. More like a monster really. Maybe I am.
One thing about how meth is it has a very broad range in how it affects people, depending on the person. For most it makes them horny as hell, most will stay up for days on end doing various 'twacktivities' like taking shit apart or cleaning every square inch of their living space. The real bad ones eventually become psychotic and start having paranoid delusions and whatnot until they eventually crash. For me, it was quite the opposite. It lowered my sex drive if anything, I was perfectly content with my electronics remaining intact, I was every but as much if a slob as I'd always been, and I couldn't stay awake for more than 48 hours if I tried. For the most part it just made me want to pursue hobbies and kill it at work. I was self-employed and would crush a 12 hour day at work and then come home and spend all my free time on a newly acquired hobby. I was teaching myself how to play acoustic guitar, teaching myself how to use a DAW, making video skits and learning different filming and editing techniques. My favorite was writing humorous articles or stories to post to reddit (some of them autobiographical, some of them semi-autobiogtaphical, some of them purely fictitious for a laugh. I enjoy writing from this account as if I am a character, and that character is always changing depending on the tone of whatever I'm writing. This piece however, is entirely real).
Any other free time I had I spent on the various meth-related subreddits (I admit while I was sleeping every night, my usual 8 hours was probably somewhere closer to 4). I lived for making humorous comments or posts to post there. Before too long I was a pretty notable member of the community due to my writing and video contributions to the subreddits. I became a mod at methwithoutcommunism and then eventually a mod at meth as well. I've always been able to connect well with people and have a decent amount of life-experience and insight for a 30 year old (with the exception of the inability to say no to hard drugs). I like to think so anyways. With my natural desire to help people, I became somewhat of a magnet for people DMing me and asking me for advice or just wanting to be my friend. I even had people hitting me up who didn't even use meth but merely lurked the sub out of morbid curiosity. Or sometimes just women sending me their nudes for no reason. It was a bit surreal to be honest. My inbox looked like a shitty therapist's office, a trashier playboy magazine, and a meth meet-and-greet, all rolled into one. I loved it.
Of course, this kind of lifestyle is not sustainable, and I was bound to burn out. Enter pwBPD, Venus. She messaged me telling me how hilarious she thought I was. We exchanged banter and already I could feel this spark. This person just 'got' me. Eventually we added each other on Snapchat and I kid you not, Venus was gorgeous. I know meth head's have a reputation for being unsightly, but her, even at 37, looked 32 at most and even by non-methhead standards she blew me away. On top of that Venus was incredibly talented. She sent me video after video, picture after picture of all the things she's made or done. Here's she is playing and singing beautifully an original song on guitar, here is one of her meals she learned to make at a state-of-the-art culinary school (a career she didn't pursue), this is an art-piece she fabricated in her own machine shop, this is a hyper-realistic watercolour she painted, this is a jacket she custom made, etc. She is hands down the most talented person I've ever met. She had more hobbies and talents than I had fingers and toes and she excelled at all of them. She was also a fucking nightmare. But I didn't know that yet.
We'd spend all day, every day texting as often as we could, then video chatting in the evenings. The conversation was constantly engaging and never grew tiresome or died down. She was brilliant, cultured, hilarious. I had posted lots of very personal writing to the meth subreddits, detailing my abusive childhood, the many hardships and adversities I faced, the loss of my parents. She told me that she had lost her parents as well* and my writing had really resonated with her. I told her how I was very emotional, a symptom of my suspected ADHD. She told me she too was very emotional. How she had been diagnosed with everything under the sun before finally being diagnosed with the real cause for her condition: autism. It caught me by surprise but I figured she must be very high functioning. Nevertheless, I didn't think much of it. In fact, I almost completely forgot about it due to how well she communicated with me. She always knew exactly what to say. We agreed on everything. She laughed at all my jokes. Never before had I had a person understand me so perfectly.
By day 2 of knowing her, she was already regularly sending me nudes and dirty videos. Texting me dirty, flirtacious things. I couldn't even call her my dream woman because even in my wildest dreams women didn't come that perfect. I was head-over-heels in love with her after a week. She was all I thought about all day and all night. 3 weeks in we were in an official relationship. 4 weeks in she told me that she had never seen herself wanting to marry again after her brief marriage to her ex-wife (she was bi, but now just identifies as straight/demisexual/sapiosexual), but could see herself marrying me. We made plans to get promise rings and marry as soon as we could. She told me she had inherited a million dollar house on the coast in San Diego and was retired, only working for pleasure in her shop she had in her garage
Canada Single Ladies
. She wanted me to come stay there as soon as possible. Saying I wouldn't have to work, she'd cook all my meals, give me all the blowjobs I could ever ask for. She made it sound like paradise. I'm in Canada and didn't have a passport so no concrete plans were made yet but I was dying to at least go visit her. Even though we hadn't yet met in-person, it was and will forever be, by far the greatest month of my entire life. Every minute just became more and more heavenly. I was king of the whole world. Then my world came crashing down. The 5 months that followed were filled with the most tiring, dreadful, harrowing, and hopeless times of my whole life.It all started when I wanted a little more than I was getting from my social life, which had migrated to being almost exclusively online. See the problem with being a daily user of meth, is that you're a daily user of meth. And well, being a user of meth at any level of frequency tends to make normal people keep their distance. As a result, I was very careful to keep my usage a secret from everybody around me. If anyone found out it would be disastrous for me. Of course, having to be out and about in the real world would impose on my abilities to get high. So I would often stay home and socialize online in the various online meth communities. There are countless Discord servers, Snapchat groups, subreddits. Kik, Tumblr, Zoom, you name it. Any social media platform with a large enough userbase has meth communities within it. I mostly kept to Reddit, Snapchat and Discord. I had been accepted into a couple Snapchat groups, however they were all a bit lame. The same people just blowing a cloud, set to the same boring music. I was always making an effort to make my videos interesting at least half if the time. Making it into a skit or something like that. Still, I felt my creativity was unappreciated in these groups. Mostly because I'm a self-important, egotistical douchebag. So I created my own group.
It wasn't huge, about 8 or so people maybe, with each member individually selected by me. And despite none of them knowing each other beforehand, they all seemed to get along surprisingly well. I admit it was mostly gorgeous women. Mostly because I just so happen to get along better with gorgeous women. Or at least will nurture those relationships the most anyways. Funny how that works. Anyways, I did have Venus though so I never did anything inappropriate with any of them or hit on any of them ever (at least, not yet anyways). I genuinely do tend to just get along better with women, especially online. It was all purely platonic at that point with just some aesthetically pleasing bonuses.
Now this is where shit gets fucked. Even I can't fully comprehend how in the fuck this all could have happened. It started when I added Venus to the group, thinking I'd love to have her be a part of my little club. Well Venus just so happened to have made an enemy in her home city a few years prior, who I'll call Olga. Supposedly Venus gave a BJ to Olga's boyfriend, which Venus denies (*, probably). Olga didn't buy this and wanted revenge. She was a bit relentless and happened to run with a dangerous crowd. Venus eventually had to change her number and distance herself from many people. Well Olga, just so happened to be very good friends with one of the members of the group, who I'll call Hilda.
I only knew Hilda because she just so happened to know this other chick, who I'll call Winifred. Winifred had hit me up on reddit, and later became my snapchat friend. Winifred was a dissatisfied newlywed looking for a good time. She later introduced me to Hilda (later revealing to me she only did so with the intention of setting up a threesome, unbeknownst to Hilda). I began speaking to Hilda and she and I just so happened to hit it off as friends and she was eventually added to the group. Somehow, Hilda recognized Venus despite never actually having met her before—presumably through old photographs of Olga's, and Olga still had beef. So of all the meth-users in all the world who happen to use Reddit, I happened to form a Snapchat group of just ~8 of them. And of those 8, not only did 2 just so happen to live in the same city, but one recognized the other by being good friends with an enemy of hers. I don't know what the chances of that being are, but it has to be 1 in a trillion or some shit like that, or God has a fucked up sense of humor.
Now the details on what exactly happened next are a bit hazy to me, as they were all relayed to me by Venus (i.e. likely bullshit). Supposedly Hilda got Venus on the phone and made friendly chit-chat for like 2 hours. During which time Hilda, claiming to be curious about potential mutual connections, asked about a select few people before working up to asking about Olga. Venus said she did know Olga. Hilda then proceeded to talk shit about Olga and Venus, just speaking honestly, explained how Olga had done some nasty things to her due to suspecting Venus had sucked her bf off. Hilda relayed this information back to Olga. Olga having newly acquired Venus's cell phone number from Hilda, became hellbent on terrorizing Venus yet again, and sent Venus a text informing her of such. (The true nature of some of what actually happened was later revealed to me by Hilda, however I will hold off on revealing that.)
Now this information didn't all come at me at once, it was bit by bit over the course of many days. Venus has a tendency of telling you only exactly as much as she thinks you should know, revealing little bits more at a time as the situation progresses, but ultimately keeping you pretty in the dark. I knew that Venus had a problem with Hilda initially, due to what I had perceived as jealousy, as she had become informed of how I knew her in the first place (this was our first real argument and it took a couple weeks to resolve, by which I mean it took 2 weeks for me to break and just tell her exactly what she wanted to hear). She also had it in for Winifred due to her advances towards me. Called her a manipulator and a predator. She clumped in Hilda with Winifred for having associated with her. I thought she was being a bit ridiculous and that basically she equated them both to being very bad people based on some unsubstantiated assumptions. Even if Winifred's intentions were less than pure, it was silly to hold Hilda accountable for them, as Hilda had no knowledge of them. So with that in mind, I initially didn't really buy Venus's story and thought she was just being dramatic and overreacting. This caused a rift between Venus and I, who expected me to just automatically take her side and kick Hilda out of the group. Not wanting to ruin what I created, I refused to do so. Especially when I thought that Hilda did nothing wrong.
As more of the story came out, I had become less and less inclined with siding with her due to the intense arguments we would get in that were stemming from this whole incident. She would argue with me day and night. I couldn't get any work done because she'd want to argue. I couldn't sleep at night because she'd want to argue. She didn't work and evidently didn't sleep much and seemed to have all the time in the world to argue. Eventually it wasn't about who was right in the scenario, as I didn't even think it was a big enough deal to care. In fact that was the basis of most of my argument: why the fuck did it matter? Move on! For the love of God, please get the fuck over it.
Of course we all know, she couldn't. Eventually it was non-stop threats of suicide. Emotional blackmail. Endless tormenting. I was losing my mind. The worst part is she slowly started to insist we only text. Any time I called she would refuse to answer. Saying she was overhelmed and was non-verbal and could only text. It was maddening to constantly have to argue with her over text. I was fucking miserable.
Eventually I decided to message someone. Now this someone isn't just anyone. When I first got with Venus she told me she had a dude harassing her and stalking her. I'll call him Eric. She showed me screenshots of Eric's messages, obviously heartbroken, begging to be able to talk to her. It seemed to me like she had ghosted him. His messages seemed totally reasonable to me. She explained how she had gotten close with a mod on another drug-related subreddit. He came to her house eventually to help her build a website for her business. Somehow, he ends up beating the shit out if her and cops are called. He gets arrested for the assault as well as a bag of drugs in his bag that belonged to him.* Eric was also a mod of the same subreddit and Venus reached out to him for support. Venus later claims that he extorted her for his help in exchange for sexy videos.* I have included my conversation with him below that is 99% verbatim with only spelling errors corrected to avoid him possibly being identified. I realize I come off as a huge asshole in this convo. It's funny how a person who does everything in their power to make your life miserable can make you be somewhat of an asshole.
Me: Hey, man. Eric right? Sorry you don't know me. I know you though. Or know of you, rather. You knew Venus?
All Free Canada Dating Site
Eric: Sorry for the delay. I did. Or I thought I did. I don't really know though.Me: Yeah so did I. Been dating for a month or so. wondering if she's fucking with me. Things don't add up with her.
Eric: And they never will. Everything is a game. Shit, this is probably part of the game. Dating? i doubt she'd call it that.
Me: Yeah that's what everyone says to me. But she's acting fucked up and destroying my friendships by getting jealous and meddling. But like she is already talking about marriage so it's fucking me up thinking that and then now that im getting played. Were you two dating?
Eric: I wouldn't call it that, no. Even though she sent the nudes and the videos and called me baby and all the shit that people who are dating do, i wouldn't say we dated. A fling maybe, and that's putting it nicely. For all i know she could be behind you just reading what I say for some fucking reason that only makes sense to her. Have you all gone to only text messages yet? Or does she still answer when you call? And let me guess... she painted me as a horrible person who is abusive and harasses people... Like the dude before me. I'd get out while you can, man. I didn't have this warning. I had to learn the hard way.
Me: Oh yeah like she says she loves me and we used to video or phone chat every other night, though not anymore. FB friends and Instagram and all that shit. She's has started to raise some red flags for me that got me all in my head and now I don't know what's going on. I dumped her after the shit storm with all my friends but she's been begging to work things out. And yeah says you were an incel who is stalking her and that she went to you for friendship because of [redacted] beating the shit out of her. But that she was only ever nice to you and it was never more than purely platonic friendship and that you built up this idea in your head that you two were dating and are now stalking and harassing her and shit.
Eric: Hahahahaha. That must be why she was sending me videos of her masturbating a week into knowing her.
Me: But yeah that's basically what everyone is saying is get the fuck out. Just kind of getting a feel for if she's just kind of bat shit or if there's more to the story.
Eric: She's a pathological liar and much, much more.
Me: Oh yeah I got that shit on day 2. And she got all mad cause some other women were hitting me up and sending me flirty shit that I didn't even reciprocate when we weren't even official yet. Like a woman sent me shit on day 4 of knowing Amy and that has caused the shit storm for me currently. But yeah I figured she liked to lie or at least embellish things.
Eric: Dude, she's becoming infamous on reddit. Mod hopping, right?
Me: Damn for real? Like I got to wonder why the fuck she is doing this shit? Got to have a thing for mods for some duking reason. Like I turned down a meth mod offer but I still am somewhat well-known I guess a little bit but I do mod a small ass sub so I dunno. But yeah she must have a thing for the bigger time drug sub users at least. I wonder who else she's had a thing with.
100 Free Dating Site In Usa Canada And Australia
Eric: I mod [redacted], [redacted], and [redacted] and the dude before me modded [redacted]. I knew him before I knew her.
Me: I wonder if her story there where [redacted] got those felony charges is all bullshit or what.
Eric: I think so. I don't know the real story but I think what she says is bullshit. I think she's just insane.
Me: Yeah it's got to be. She seems to be a shit magnet and no doubt her bullshitting is a contributing factor. She's got something wrong in her head for sure. But alright I kind of got the affirmation I was looking for I guess so I won't bug you anymore. Sorry for bringing it up, I bet she did a number on you emotionally if she was as charming at first as she was with me so I hate to reopen old wounds. Thanks for the info, man.
Eric: Oh yeah... She was everything I wanted in a woman at first.
Me: Haha yup.
Eric: Nah you're not bothering me. It's actually kind of cathartic to finally talk about it. Has she been threatening to kill herself?
Me: Oh yeah, non-stop. She did that a bunch with you?
Eric: Yup.
Me: God damn, I knew it.
Eric: Dude, she's a damn good manipulator, i'll give her that. But she can't keep it going.
Me: I told her that I bet she's pulled that on 100 guys before.
Eric: Shit, probably 200.
Me: Probably. But yeah she is so emotionally manipulative. I found this chick who knows her friend-turned-enemy in real life. Like this chick is the enemy's good friend and the chick told me that everyone says she is batshit crazy.
Eric: Same here. Everyone i talked to, which wasn't a whole lot of people, all said she was nuts.
Me: And she's got that story of that dude who was her best friend who held a gun to her head and pulled the trigger and it didn't fire but then he ruined her reputation with lies and I'm wondering if she just ruined her own reputation and he told the truth.
Eric: I'd be willing to bet.
Me: God damn. Fuckin life is cruel. She really made me think she was the one.
Eric: I'm sure she's been doing this for years. Yeah me too, man. Me too.
Me: Oh probably.
Totally Free Dating Sites In Canada
Eric: I thought I had found the fucking end all, be all of women at first. God damn was I a fucking dumbass.
Me: The crazy part is I'm still into her enough that I have half a mind to try and work things out still every time I talk to her.
Eric: Shit before I just learned all this, I was too. I think it's that face.
Me: But then she pisses me off so much. Uses her autism as a crutch to win every argument and now claims her cancer is back for sympathy. She really knows how to fuck with me. I honestly don't think she even has autism.
Eric: Nope. She did that with me the whole time. Never had a chance to even say my side of shit.
Me: Fuck me, that has been my biggest issue with her this entire time.
Eric: It just gets worse.
Me: Won't hear a single fucking word I have to say.
Eric: Yup.
Me: Fuck, thank you so much, man. I think you gave me the final push I need to just end things with her.
Eric: I hope you can, man. It won't end well for ya.
Me: Appreciate it, man. Thanks for talking to me. Anyways, I doubt you're still in contact but if you are somewhat please don't say anything to her about this just yet, if at all. Anyways, I've been seeing you around meth a decent amount now that I've known who you are since the whole stalking claims, so I'm sure we will interact again soon lol.
100 Free Dating Sites In Usa And Canada
Eric: I don't talk to her anymore. She wishes I'd stalk her. That fucking pisses me off so fucking bad and she fucking knows it. Sorry. Yeah i'm around reddit and discord so i'll see ya.
Me: Alright, cool. Yeah fuck her. Lol if it's any consolation I watched her lose her shit when some chick she was pissed with wasn't replying to her text and finally after 3 days just said 'k' and made her lose her mind. I haven't seen anyone that angry in a loooooong time lol. But, word. Later, dude.
To be continued...
submitted byTwack2theFuturetoBPDlovedones [link][comments]
2021.12.17 18:31 BOKUtoiuOnnaI have been actively questioning for about 6 years straight now
I'm a bit fed up of questioning my gender because it's been 6 years straight. That's not counting the wanting to be a boy as a little kid, or the phase I had at about 13 where I would daydream constantly about being reincarnated as a really masc gay man (funnily now I only date girls, and i'm a bit concerned i might be gayer if i transitioned haha).I've watched every trans guy video on the internet. Multiple times. Even read really obscure blogs. I pass as male most of the time, I've even had people not see me for a few years and then just assume that I've come out as trans even when I've explicitly said otherwise. I'm terrified of women's toilets at this point. I sorta conduct my life as if I am a guy and have decided this is fine even if everyone else is constantly highly confused. I watch mens self help, I always insert myself on the guy side of gender debates as if it makes sense, I automatically choose the mens version of everything etc. My ex came out as trans last year and I spent a year having a breakdown about him being more masculine than me when I've been trying so hard for 6 years to find myself and he is just suddenly is on T.
The things that really hold me back are:
- I have zero problem with my chest, and even though I feel like I want to look more masculine, it feels wrong to me that to achieve that I have to have an elective (for me) surgery, when my chest does not freak me out or anything. I think my chest is masculine its just not to anyone else and that does cause plenty enough psychological issues like fear of sex. But it just doesn't feel like something i particularly want to do.
- When I look back at certain parts of my life, I see a little boy. When I look back at other parts though, I see a little girl. And I like her. And whenever I get too close to thinking I might be a guy, I feel intense greif for her and some compulsion to be feminine again. Even though I always wanted to present masculine the whole time.
- I was quite happy when I came out as a lesbian 6 years ago and I realised I could finally be myself. I bought loads of mens clothes, boxers, mens perfume etc. I was having the time of my life back then. I watched some trans guy content, but it was just for tips to look masculine. I never thought that was me. It wasn't till other people started asking if I was trans because I was so pumped about anything and everything masculine, that I started worrying, and my life has been shitter ever since. Now when i buy mens clothes half of the time im dysphoric about it not fitting right and not happy. I feel like I could've gone on being happy, and now I've caused myself a discontent that will lead to reliance on the medical system forever, and I just want to wind back the clock.
- I don't wanna change my damn name that's wierd af.
- Honestly if anyone says I am trans I will start arguing that I'm not very vehemently. I just really don't want to give up one life for another. Even though I wouldn't be, cos I literally already live like a dude. But I'm just like, what if one day maybe i sorta wanna be a girl again lol.
- Men are actually sorta boring tbh. Like geniunely I think about this. I'm not just being an asshole I just think women are more interesting. Also what if I do all this irreversible stuff and I'm like very ugly? Like these are little dumb things but boy do they bother me. Cos I sort really like myself now, I just want to scrape my brain out sometimes because I start being furiously jealous of my nephew or sth dumb like that.
- How do you even come out as trans? Surely everyone over the age of 40 just stops talking to you forever? It's even worse because I could really avoid telling most people I was gay. And that almost fucking killed me already.
Probably in about 8-24 hours I will have convinced myself again that I identify as VERY FEMALE. And go back to trying to focus on masculinising fitness goals and being a suoper successful breadwinner to compensate.
Thanks
submitted byBOKUtoiuOnnatoftm [link][comments]
2021.12.17 05:30 13floppydisksP4S Plex Server USA/EU/Middle East Servers 📷 4K Content 📷 High Quality Media IPTV 10GBit Requests via Discord 1Pb Library Google Drive Shares Local Storage
Server Type: Pay 4 Share (Premium)Server Locations: USA
Europe
Middle East
Why you want US: Join US: https://discord.gg/jWHRCGMReS
So you go on netflix just to find that they stopped streaming the show.Oh no wait, it expired 2 months ago. And the show already moved to Disney Plus anyway. Frustrating isn't it?
That's where we come in. We find all the shows for you so you don't have to.
Make it easy to watch tv again. Pop on a nice movie for date night. Click on a nostalgic cartoon from your childhood. Watch that show or movie that you suddenly remembered today, but has stopped airing for a decade.
Just watch, we'll do the work.
✅ Largest library around
✅ Just watch. Nothing complicated to do.
✅ Tv updated automatically via bots hourly
✅ More than 1,000 TB of content. This means that we're around for the long-term
✅ More content than most places
✅ Paid through Paypal (safer for you)
✅ Location inside a Datacentre with Tier 1 uplinks. This means fast fast fast connections inside the USA, in the APAC region (South East Asia, Japan, Australia, etc) and in Europe (UK, Germany, etc)Middle East (UAE,Saudi Arabia,Jordan etc.). There might be a few countries we'll miss, but there won't be many!
LIBRARY
Movies 27,000+
TV Shows 8,500+
Anime 4,000+
4K Movies 1,200+
4K Tv 700+
Cartoons 900+
PRICE
Monthly Price USD 19.99
Annual Price USD 199 (10 Months + 2 free)
Lifetime Price USD 399
IPTV Plans
Monthly Price USD 20.99
6 Month Price USD $125
Annual Price USD 199
Lifetime Price USD 399
Created by experts dedicated app for android users.IPTV will work with multiple devices (Smart TV,roku,ios and more).Multiple streams offered.For more info join discord.
IPTV Trials can be provided to users with active plex sub
IPTV has additional VOD library free of charge,though library is smaller compared to plex
Google Drive Pricing on Discord
Instant Access
More then 10000 Movies and More than 7000 TV Series/Shows
Everything is provided with the MAXIMUM Quality available.
Great Prices! and 4K at NO EXTRA COST!
Why shouldn't I buy netflix instead?
We have TEN times (10x) their movies and double their shows. You could get Netflix + HBO-Max + Hulu + Disney-Plus + Amazon Prime Video for around $55 USD and you'd still have less movies than you can have with us!
- Should I drop my cable bill?
- Will you suddenly drop me and disappear?
- Why do you charge so much compared to some others?
You can take up an hour of my time asking how best to change the audio settings in your plex device, or you can send me questions in the middle of the night about a missing tv episode or the wrong audio track. We'll always be happy to help.
Just watch your tv, we'll do the work!
Discord Server: https://discord.gg/jWHRCGMReS
You can join only via discord!
submitted by13floppydiskstoplexshares [link][comments]
2021.12.17 00:08 AlpsBorn4957My bf [39M] is always upset with me [34F] whenever he is stressed
tldr; title says it all. He is not stressed that often but whenever he is, it is horrible. Is there a chance I can live with him, or I should just run away? Should I apologize to him first? How do I talk to him?
-------------------------
We are both in our 30s and have known each other for 2 years, dated for 6 months. We were already good friends before we started dating and things have been moving smoothly; well, for most of the time...Normally, he is a loving person, but whenever he is stressed, whatever I do upsets him. I know we might sound like a pair of teenagers, but….
Recently, we decided that he moved in with me. The plan was to move most of his stuff into a storage. I know moving is stressful (I am an immigrant, and I had a lot of experience moving around; he's American btw). I wanted to be supportive, so I asked for a half-day off to help him, offered to bring him lunch during the moving day, etc...
Upset #1. Early in the morning on the actual moving day (also the last day he had to move out), I drove him to pick up the U-Haul. Then he tried to self-checkout the truck from safari browser, it didn't work. His cell connection was very slow in that area, so it took forever to load the page Then I suggested maybe you can download the U-Haul app, I can tether my phone for you. He was not convinced in the beginning but after fumbling his phone for another 20mins, he downloaded the app. I saw he was stressed so I half-jokingly said: maybe you should consider changing into an Android, like me, and joining my family plan (a different carrier). He was upset immediately: Why do you keep saying bad things about my phone, I love my phone, I don't like you say it.
Upset #2. To self-checkout U-Haul, they need to call my number to verify the information. I had to run back home to prepare for work, but I kept the phone on my side so I could quickly answer it. After multiple automatic texts, “we will call you shortly to verify your info”, my phone finally rang, but only for 4 secs. Before I was able to accept it, it hung up already. Then shortly I got a call from him, very upset: “Why you are not picking up your phone?”
Upset #3. I finished my half-day work, bought lunch, and drove over to his apartment. He was there moving by himself! I suggested to him we could hire a mover or grab two guys from HomeDepot; tbh, we are not young anymore and I’d rather pay someone to do the heavy lifting. He said he would consider it. He’s not a meager person so not sure why he didn’t hire anyone. Apprantly, he didn’t take my advice and I didn’t say anything, just wanted to offer whatever I can. He pointed to a giant container and asked me to give him a hand. Lord, it must weigh 500 pounds, all hardcover books! My immediate response was: “Geez, it’s better to use smaller boxes for heavy stuff, larger boxes for light things”. He was triggered immediately: “I like the way I do things, it’s more efficient. Your comments are not helpful, what I’m supposed to do? Go get smaller boxes and take everything out”? I was a bit annoyed too, so I talked back: “Yes, instead of putting everything in a giant box that no one can lift and possibly hurt your back, I’d rather split them into smaller boxes and make multiple trips”. I guess my comments were useless because eventually, I had to help him load multiple 500lbs+ giant boxes.
Upset #4. Before heading to the storage to help upload, I had to run back home to check some work stuff, also brought him some refreshments. When I joined him, he seemed in a better mood and I felt alleviated too. So, I grabbed the additional cart, loaded two boxes, and headed to his storage unit. He was upset again: “Can we load it with more boxes so it’s more efficient?” Me: “They are heavy, it’s really hard to push the cart already, plus I don’t want to hurt my back. I think I prefer making multiple trips.” Him: “Can we do it my way? You are wasting time.” Guess what: I gave in again, I told him: load as many as you want, I’ll help you push. I just stood on the side, standoffish, watched him hauling giant/heavy boxes on top of each other, gave him a hand if necessary, and ultimately used my entire body weight to push the cart.
When we finally finished and got back to my apartment, he stormed in and grabbed all his stuff. I asked “What’s wrong? Where are you going?” He looked at me as if I was a retard: “What’s wrong?! Think about what you did. I’m not staying.”
It was such a havoc day. I admit I could be more supportive and shouldn’t have commented on his MO. I got upset too and my chi might appear negative when I’m tired. But, if I was doing this whole moving thing, I would plan ahead, hire someone. I haven’t done any heavy lifting since I started working, yet here I am, lifting and still making him upset. I just feel like crying, from both my hurting back and my feeling.
submitted byAlpsBorn4957torelationship_advice [link][comments]-------------------------
We are both in our 30s and have known each other for 2 years, dated for 6 months. We were already good friends before we started dating and things have been moving smoothly; well, for most of the time...Normally, he is a loving person, but whenever he is stressed, whatever I do upsets him. I know we might sound like a pair of teenagers, but….
Recently, we decided that he moved in with me. The plan was to move most of his stuff into a storage. I know moving is stressful (I am an immigrant, and I had a lot of experience moving around; he's American btw). I wanted to be supportive, so I asked for a half-day off to help him, offered to bring him lunch during the moving day, etc...
Upset #1. Early in the morning on the actual moving day (also the last day he had to move out), I drove him to pick up the U-Haul. Then he tried to self-checkout the truck from safari browser, it didn't work. His cell connection was very slow in that area, so it took forever to load the page Then I suggested maybe you can download the U-Haul app, I can tether my phone for you. He was not convinced in the beginning but after fumbling his phone for another 20mins, he downloaded the app. I saw he was stressed so I half-jokingly said: maybe you should consider changing into an Android, like me, and joining my family plan (a different carrier). He was upset immediately: Why do you keep saying bad things about my phone, I love my phone, I don't like you say it.
Upset #2. To self-checkout U-Haul, they need to call my number to verify the information. I had to run back home to prepare for work, but I kept the phone on my side so I could quickly answer it. After multiple automatic texts, “we will call you shortly to verify your info”, my phone finally rang, but only for 4 secs. Before I was able to accept it, it hung up already. Then shortly I got a call from him, very upset: “Why you are not picking up your phone?”
Upset #3. I finished my half-day work, bought lunch, and drove over to his apartment. He was there moving by himself! I suggested to him we could hire a mover or grab two guys from HomeDepot; tbh, we are not young anymore and I’d rather pay someone to do the heavy lifting. He said he would consider it. He’s not a meager person so not sure why he didn’t hire anyone. Apprantly, he didn’t take my advice and I didn’t say anything, just wanted to offer whatever I can. He pointed to a giant container and asked me to give him a hand. Lord, it must weigh 500 pounds, all hardcover books! My immediate response was: “Geez, it’s better to use smaller boxes for heavy stuff, larger boxes for light things”. He was triggered immediately: “I like the way I do things, it’s more efficient. Your comments are not helpful, what I’m supposed to do? Go get smaller boxes and take everything out”? I was a bit annoyed too, so I talked back: “Yes, instead of putting everything in a giant box that no one can lift and possibly hurt your back, I’d rather split them into smaller boxes and make multiple trips”. I guess my comments were useless because eventually, I had to help him load multiple 500lbs+ giant boxes.
Upset #4. Before heading to the storage to help upload, I had to run back home to check some work stuff, also brought him some refreshments. When I joined him, he seemed in a better mood and I felt alleviated too. So, I grabbed the additional cart, loaded two boxes, and headed to his storage unit. He was upset again: “Can we load it with more boxes so it’s more efficient?” Me: “They are heavy, it’s really hard to push the cart already, plus I don’t want to hurt my back. I think I prefer making multiple trips.” Him: “Can we do it my way? You are wasting time.” Guess what: I gave in again, I told him: load as many as you want, I’ll help you push. I just stood on the side, standoffish, watched him hauling giant/heavy boxes on top of each other, gave him a hand if necessary, and ultimately used my entire body weight to push the cart.
When we finally finished and got back to my apartment, he stormed in and grabbed all his stuff. I asked “What’s wrong? Where are you going?” He looked at me as if I was a retard: “What’s wrong?! Think about what you did. I’m not staying.”
It was such a havoc day. I admit I could be more supportive and shouldn’t have commented on his MO. I got upset too and my chi might appear negative when I’m tired. But, if I was doing this whole moving thing, I would plan ahead, hire someone. I haven’t done any heavy lifting since I started working, yet here I am, lifting and still making him upset. I just feel like crying, from both my hurting back and my feeling.
2021.12.16 17:49 IsaacSam98A 'Quick' Guide to Every Innova Disc Part 8: (Destroyer - Groove)
Hello again discgolf! If you do not know what I do, I write reviews and guides here for fun. Here are my guides and reviews that I have made so far. If you like what I write, you can follow my username to get notified in your feed when I post things. You could be #240!
Previous Entries:
Innova Guide Part #1 (Aero - Roc) [1983 - 1989]
Innova Guide Part #2 (Phenix - Birdie) [1989 - 1991]
Innova Guide Part #3 (Jaguar - Pole Cat) [1991 - 1994]
Innova Guide Part #4 (Python - Rhyno) [1994 - 1998]
Innova Guide Part #5 (Eagle - Firebird) [1999 - 2000]
Innova Guide Part #6 (Valkyrie - Orc) [2000 - 2004]
Innova Guide Part #7 (Hydra - Max) [2004 - 2006]
The year is 2007, and things are about to change. Guys like Paul McBeth, Paul Ulibarri, Nate Sexton, Jeremy Koling, Gregg Barsby, and James Conrad are coming up in the sport. Nate Doss was probably the best player in the world at that time, and he won the 07 world title for Discraft. David Feldberg and Avery Jenkins won the 08 and 09 worlds respectively. In 2010 Eric McCabe, then sponsored by Discraft, won the world title and Doss won in 11.
Even though Innova was still the #1 brand, they were not exactly winning everything like they used to. But, they molded fantastic discs in this era, alongside a few notoriously bad ones. Also... Discmania is a thing now! During this time, Innova molded/designed discs for Discmania to sell under their brand, and they did not send them garbage molds either. Discs like the P2, PD, and FD would become classics in their own right. This guide does not contain anything from Discmania, Millennium, or Ching etc. (there is one exception to that...) But a future guide for those brands may be in order if demand warrants it.
Enough history, let's get to the discs!
(2007) Destroyer
Flight Numbers 12 5 -1 3
Avery Destroyer
Pre Everything Destroyer
Halo Destroyer
When the Destroyer was released in 2007, it became an instant classic! The Destroyer is one of the best selling discs of all time, and is currently the best selling disc for Innova. The Destroyer was the first 12 speed disc ever made, and at the time of its release it was the farthest flying disc in the world. People like discs that go far, and to no one's surprise the Destroyer was an instant hit.
Dave Dunipace knew he had something good with the Destroyer, and when Innova distributed the first runs of the Destroyer, legend has it that he told people to hold on to a few of them because they were going to valuable. For professionals, the Destroyer basically replaced every distance driver in their bag. Only the Wraith would really survive the Destroyer, with discs like the Orc (aside from Sexton), Beast, Tee-Rex, and Monster virtually fading away from MPO players bags.
If you have been following these guides, you'll notice there is an Innova distance driver succession that has taken place for MPO. It goes something like:
Lids -> Aero -> Phenix -> Viper -> Gazelle -> Cheetah -> Eagle -> TeeBird -> Valkyrie -> Beast -> Orc -> Wraith -> Tee-Rex -> Destroyer.
And to this date, it ends there. Yeah there are Innova discs that fly farther, and we will cover them later. But, in the MPO, they are not used often. The reason why the Destroyer stayed the king of all Innova distance drivers is because if you have decent arm speed, the Destroyer will go really far without sacrificing too much accuracy. They have straight to overstable flights, and they beat into turnoveflex drivers. For being a big rimmed disc, the Destroyer is fairly comfortable for backhands and forehands as well. Paul McBeth would even use Destroyers on short forehands because he just found them to be comfortable.
I usually list the pros that throw/threw certain discs, but for the Destroyer that would be a silly task. Aside from a few players, nearly every Innova professional bags a Destroyer. Usually the best Innova player has the honor of having the Destroyer as their signature disc. So far Avery Jenkins, Paul McBeth, and Ricky Wysocki have had that honor. Steve Brinster, Calvin Heimburg, and Philo to only name a few have had the Destroyer as their signature disc. In lighter weights, the Destroyer is a popular disc for FPO players as well.
Aside from advanced players, the Destroyer is popular amongst beginners and intermediate players as well. Usually among these levels, a Pro/DX Destroyer is more popular as they are much less stable than the premium versions. I'm not sure if it is a good idea to throw Destroyers if you are new, but people do it anyways.
Perhaps no disc varies as much from run to run as the Destroyer, and there are countless mold variations of this disc and certainly too many for me to get into. BUT, someone already wrote the perfect Destroyer guide, and I HIGHLY recommend you read it if you like Destroyers. I linked it here. That guide is a little outdated, in the meantime McBeth has left Innova, and Halo Destroyers are all the rage. Halos are considered to be a little more stable than the average Destroyer.
A few collectable Destroyers include:
The McPro Aviar Destroyer. Here is an article about that disc. They are the rarest/most sought after disc in disc golf.
PFN Destroyers of any kind. Avery Destroyers as well as 'Pre Everything Destroyers' can catch a good amount of money. 'D' Destroyers come from that batch, and those are my favorite.
First run Destroyers can catch a handsome sum as well.
Every brand has copied the Destroyer and sometimes they have tried to copy the Destroyer multiple times so their mold would match the current run of the Destroyer. I'm serious, this is something that happens. It's not a bad thing. Think of it this way, every club manufacturer makes a pitching wedge, but they each have their own little tweaks. And we the consumer, benefit from having all of those options. But do not be fooled when a new slightly OS 12 speed comes out, it probably looks like a Destroyer.
My Experiences with the Destroyer:
My first Destroyer was a beat in 160g Pro Destroyer. I was maybe 10, and threw the hell out of that disc. I would eventually crack that disc in half, and afterwards I saved my money to get a Champion Destroyer! Not only that, when I walked in to DiscGolfMart, I saw that they had a weird Destroyer with metal flakes in it. I was maybe 14-15, and I probably threw 260ish feet at the time. Needless to say, my new shiny Destroyer was worthlessly overstable for me, and I traded it for an Eagle or something. I didn't really take disc golf seriously until I was 20, and I learned WHY that Destroyer was so different from the one I had, and I finally stopped hating Destroyers lol.
Adult me likes to throw them into headwinds as they are a bit too much disc for me. Although, I did stumble on a beat in D that was beautifully straight, but I ripped it into a lake. The natural resting place of all good Destroyers after all.
(2007) Kite
Flight Numbers: 5 6 -3 1
The Innova Kite is a faster, domier version of the Innova Stingray. They were designed to be used by beginners, and to glide with the wind. Usually discs are designed to resist the wind, the Kite was designed to embrace it. No disc glides farther than a Kite, and it goes where the wind goes. I don't think a professional players has ever bagged a Kite, but do not quote me on that. It was popular enough among beginners and intermediate players for it to remain in production for awhile, but it has gone OOP. Innova still makes runs of the Kite on the factory store from time to time, but there are not many Kite huckers left.
My Experiences with the Kite:
The Kite is the worst disc I have ever thrown. Do not buy this disc. I know someone in the comments is going to say 'I like to throw the Kite on hyzer in a tailwind and have it glide for MILES.' They're not lying to you, they probably do that. But in my experience, when you release a Kite, the flight path is in god's hands.
Now, I have only ever thrown a DX Kite, so maybe the premium versions of the Kite are more reliable. So if you want to be weird, go ahead and get one. But I warned you.
(2007) Gremlin
Flight Numbers: 5 4 0 2
Innova Gremlin
Discmania Gremlin or GM
Ching Sniper
Perhaps the only mold to go OOP for three different companies, the Innova Gremlin has a confusing history and few remaining fans. In 1998 Ching partnered with Innova, and Innova designed molds for them in a similar way that Innova produces/produced molds for Discmania, Millennium, and Infinite discs. The first disc Innova designed for Ching was the Sniper, and it was relatively popular for a short period, but eventually it went OOP for Ching.
Innova decided that they would try and release the Sniper under a new name in 2003, and they sold the Sniper as the Gremlin. To make things EVEN MORE confusing Innova came out with two Gremlins. The original Pro-Line Gremlins were pretty beefy, so when Innova re-released StaChampion discs as a part of the CFR program, they made them using the Gremlin L mold. The DX versions have always been the X mold.
The Gremlin did not last long, and Innova passed the Gremlin onto Discmania where it became the Discmania Gremlin or GM (Greater Midrange). That was actually when the Gremlin was officially PDGA approved. Discmania changed the flight numbers for the GM, but it was the same mold as the Innova version... Anyways, the GM was also not popular and it went out of print quickly.
The Gremlin was essentially a faster version of the Roc, but the Roc was just too popular to compete with at the time. That combined with the massive amount of Innova mids made it hard for the Gremlin to stand out. The Gremlin did have its fans though, and the old Pro-Line Gremlins are sought after. Discmania/Ching discs are automatically collectable, so those old Snipers and GMs are also worth money.
I have never thrown a Gremlin of any variety before.
(2007) Sonic
Flight Numbers: 1 2 -4 0
Sonic
GG Sonic
The Sonic is a catch / golf hybrid disc made by Innova. It is based off the old Hero 235 that Innova made for catch. Basically, the Sonic is a lid made by Innova that can be used for short turnover approach shots. Sonics are all turn and no fade, and that makes them pretty unique. Usually a '0' in the LSS is a flat out lie, but with the Sonic it is true!
The Sonic is a bit of a call back to the old lids made in the early 80s, and older players liked them. Ken Climo even bagged one for a little bit, but they were not thrown often in disc golf tournaments. For awhile the Sonic was impossible for Innova to sell, and it went OOP.
Then Garrett Gurthie started to get media coverage, and he throws the Sonic all over the place. Thanks to him, the Sonic has a growing fan club, and it may go back in full production here again. Sonics are usually made in lighter weights in DX, but Garrett asked Innova to make a heavy premium version of the Sonic for his tour series disc. Those GG Sonics are very valuable, especially because he seems to have switched to Wraiths for his tour series disc.
My Experiences with the Sonic:
I used to play catch with my dog with a Sonic... Does that count? I never used it for disc golf sadly, I wish I had though, it would have been fun.
(2008) XCaliber
Flight Numbers: 12 5 0 4
Echo-Star XCal
Sex-Cal
A more stable version of the Destroyer, the XCaliber was designed for sidearm throwers and for shots into headwinds for powerful players. While certainly not as popular as the Destroyer, the XCaliber has remained a popular disc for Innova since its release. XCalibers are overstable, but they are not brutally overstable like a Max or Monster. Which means that the XCaliber could be used for distance forehand lines and hyzer backhand lines.
Steve Brinster was a big fan of the XCaliber, but perhaps the most famous XCal thrower is Nate Sexton. Recently, Innova made the XCaliber his signature disc, and they are referred to as Sex-Cals.
Old Echo-Star XCals are sought after as are PFN XCals.
I have never thrown an XCaliber.
(2008) Pig
Flight Numbers: 3 1 0 3
Pig
Wysocki Pig
The Pig was the first Thumbtrac disc made by Innova since the Puma back in the 1999. The Pig was designed to be nearly glideless overstable disc for approach shots and windy putting situations. No one in their right mind would have thrown a Pig of the tee, and the Pig was not very popular for the majority of its existence. But it did have enough fans for it to remain in production, as it was hard to mock the utility of a disc like the Pig.
Meanwhile, Ricky Wysocki armed with the power of a Grecian god, threw Harps (a similar disc) as far as most people throw mid ranges. When Ricky switched to Innova, he swapped the Harp out for the Pig, and he throws Pigs everywhere. Now the Pig is a wildly popular disc! This is proof that sponsorship is important as the Pig was nothing prior to Ricky.
Andrew Marwede has also been known to flick a Pig, but I cannot think of any other pros who utilize this disc, but I imagine I am missing someone. Fun fact, a 150g Pig floats in water.
My Experiences with the Pig:
My Dad has been a Pig thrower since day 1. He has always used it for windy putts, and it works well for him. When I told him someone could throw a Pig 300+ feet, he did not believe me XD
I like the Pig, but I am more of a Gator person.
(2008) Monarch
Flight Numbers: 10 5 -4 1
Monarch
Super rare Star Monarch
The Monarch was Innova's first foray into 'groove' technology. Groove technology is where you place a channel in the rim of a disc to make it lighter. This was before blizzard plastic, so this was the only method Innova had to make lightweight distance drivers in premium plastic. The Monarch was aimed at beginners, and I do not recall a professional ever throwing one. The Monarch was included in the premium starter pack for awhile before being replaced by the Valkyrie.
The Monarch had some fans, but the groove technology and its association with another disc we will discuss later made the Monarch less popular. Eventually, the Monarch went out of print. However, the Monarch has been continuously available as a factory second do to the large number of factory seconds that occurred during the Monarch's production.
My Experiences with the Monarch:
The Monarch is a great disc for everyone. It is a great turnoveroller disc for advanced players, and it is a good starter driver for beginners. I think this disc got a bad rap, and I highly recommend a Monarch. Get one, they are really cheap.
(2008) Boss
Flight Numbers: 13 5 -1 3
Wiggins Boss
PFN Boss (RARE)
The first 13 speed disc, the Boss at the time of its release, was the farthest flying disc in disc golf.
And it still is.
In 2012 David Wiggins (who was only 16) broke the old 2002 Sandstrom record with an amazing 836ft toss with a lightweight Boss. Simon Lizotte would break his record 2 years with a 863ft toss... also with a Boss. David responded by throwing a Boss 1109ft. Now, I know that 1000+ toss was aided by a tremendous tailwind, but dear god a man threw a disc 1100 feet! That is absurd! That record still stands, and has been fairly safe. There are faster discs in production, and we will cover the Innova ones later in future guides. Those discs have the potential to beat the Boss, but we have yet to see the conditions/perfect throw required to best Wiggins.
Bosses were designed to simply be faster Destroyers, although they are known to be little less stable than Destroyers. A few professionals throw Bosses on the course, with Alex Russell and Ricky Wysocki being notable examples. The Boss is actually Alex's tour series disc! David Feldberg threw the Boss a lot too, and it was his signature disc for a short while.
Beginners and intermediate players also throw Bosses. A lot actually, Innova sells a lot of Bosses to beginners. Again, just like with the Destroyer, that may not be the best idea, but it happens all the time. Part of this is Innova's fault, they advertise lightweight Bosses as the farthest flying discs in the world (they are, if you can throw them right). So, when someone asks a new employee at a disc shop 'which disc goes the farthest for me,' they'll point at a Boss.
Believe it or not, I have never thrown a Boss!
(2008) Groove
Flight Numbers: 13 6 -2 2
Groove
The Groove was the second disc made with the groove technology, and it is often regarded as the worst disc ever made by Innova. Just like the Monarch, the channel in the rim allowed the Groove to be made in lighter weights, and Innova marketed the Groove towards beginners. I do not think a pro has ever bagged a Groove, I could be wrong though.
It was a bad idea to market the Groove towards beginners, as the Groove was too overstable for someone with low arm speed. Also, many throwers found the Groove to be uncomfortable to grip and it forces you to power grip the disc. The comfort thing is not as bad when you develop throwing callouses, but when you are new, a Groove can hurt! Quickly, the Groove gained an infamous image of being the worst disc in the world.
Despite this, the Groove remained in production for awhile and it still has a strong fan base. Just like the Monarch, the channel in rim caused many production errors, and there are tons of F2 Grooves on the pro shop.
Whenever this disc is mentioned in a forum, there are usually funny arguments that take place. If this post becomes popular, grab some popcorn and watch the comments.
My Experiences with the Groove:
Young me hated the Groove. Now that I have some arm speed, I don't hate the Groove as much. I don't like it, and I don't bag it. But it is usable. If you stack this disc next to a Stego or a Tilt, the Groove would win every time easily.
That's all for today.
Thanks as always for reading! If I got something wrong, please tell me and I will edit appropriately. A few people PM'd me asking if this guide was official. IT IS NOT. I am doing this as a fan of Innova discs, and they are by no means sponsoring/helping me write any of this.
submitted byIsaacSam98todiscgolf [link][comments]Previous Entries:
Innova Guide Part #1 (Aero - Roc) [1983 - 1989]
Innova Guide Part #2 (Phenix - Birdie) [1989 - 1991]
Innova Guide Part #3 (Jaguar - Pole Cat) [1991 - 1994]
Innova Guide Part #4 (Python - Rhyno) [1994 - 1998]
Innova Guide Part #5 (Eagle - Firebird) [1999 - 2000]
Innova Guide Part #6 (Valkyrie - Orc) [2000 - 2004]
Innova Guide Part #7 (Hydra - Max) [2004 - 2006]
The year is 2007, and things are about to change. Guys like Paul McBeth, Paul Ulibarri, Nate Sexton, Jeremy Koling, Gregg Barsby, and James Conrad are coming up in the sport. Nate Doss was probably the best player in the world at that time, and he won the 07 world title for Discraft. David Feldberg and Avery Jenkins won the 08 and 09 worlds respectively. In 2010 Eric McCabe, then sponsored by Discraft, won the world title and Doss won in 11.
Even though Innova was still the #1 brand, they were not exactly winning everything like they used to. But, they molded fantastic discs in this era, alongside a few notoriously bad ones. Also... Discmania is a thing now! During this time, Innova molded/designed discs for Discmania to sell under their brand, and they did not send them garbage molds either. Discs like the P2, PD, and FD would become classics in their own right. This guide does not contain anything from Discmania, Millennium, or Ching etc. (there is one exception to that...) But a future guide for those brands may be in order if demand warrants it.
Enough history, let's get to the discs!
(2007) Destroyer
Flight Numbers 12 5 -1 3
Avery Destroyer
Pre Everything Destroyer
Halo Destroyer
When the Destroyer was released in 2007, it became an instant classic! The Destroyer is one of the best selling discs of all time, and is currently the best selling disc for Innova. The Destroyer was the first 12 speed disc ever made, and at the time of its release it was the farthest flying disc in the world. People like discs that go far, and to no one's surprise the Destroyer was an instant hit.
Dave Dunipace knew he had something good with the Destroyer, and when Innova distributed the first runs of the Destroyer, legend has it that he told people to hold on to a few of them because they were going to valuable. For professionals, the Destroyer basically replaced every distance driver in their bag. Only the Wraith would really survive the Destroyer, with discs like the Orc (aside from Sexton), Beast, Tee-Rex, and Monster virtually fading away from MPO players bags.
If you have been following these guides, you'll notice there is an Innova distance driver succession that has taken place for MPO. It goes something like:
Lids -> Aero -> Phenix -> Viper -> Gazelle -> Cheetah -> Eagle -> TeeBird -> Valkyrie -> Beast -> Orc -> Wraith -> Tee-Rex -> Destroyer.
And to this date, it ends there. Yeah there are Innova discs that fly farther, and we will cover them later. But, in the MPO, they are not used often. The reason why the Destroyer stayed the king of all Innova distance drivers is because if you have decent arm speed, the Destroyer will go really far without sacrificing too much accuracy. They have straight to overstable flights, and they beat into turnoveflex drivers. For being a big rimmed disc, the Destroyer is fairly comfortable for backhands and forehands as well. Paul McBeth would even use Destroyers on short forehands because he just found them to be comfortable.
I usually list the pros that throw/threw certain discs, but for the Destroyer that would be a silly task. Aside from a few players, nearly every Innova professional bags a Destroyer. Usually the best Innova player has the honor of having the Destroyer as their signature disc. So far Avery Jenkins, Paul McBeth, and Ricky Wysocki have had that honor. Steve Brinster, Calvin Heimburg, and Philo to only name a few have had the Destroyer as their signature disc. In lighter weights, the Destroyer is a popular disc for FPO players as well.
Aside from advanced players, the Destroyer is popular amongst beginners and intermediate players as well. Usually among these levels, a Pro/DX Destroyer is more popular as they are much less stable than the premium versions. I'm not sure if it is a good idea to throw Destroyers if you are new, but people do it anyways.
Perhaps no disc varies as much from run to run as the Destroyer, and there are countless mold variations of this disc and certainly too many for me to get into. BUT, someone already wrote the perfect Destroyer guide, and I HIGHLY recommend you read it if you like Destroyers. I linked it here. That guide is a little outdated, in the meantime McBeth has left Innova, and Halo Destroyers are all the rage. Halos are considered to be a little more stable than the average Destroyer.
A few collectable Destroyers include:
The McPro Aviar Destroyer. Here is an article about that disc. They are the rarest/most sought after disc in disc golf.
PFN Destroyers of any kind. Avery Destroyers as well as 'Pre Everything Destroyers' can catch a good amount of money. 'D' Destroyers come from that batch, and those are my favorite.
First run Destroyers can catch a handsome sum as well.
Every brand has copied the Destroyer and sometimes they have tried to copy the Destroyer multiple times so their mold would match the current run of the Destroyer. I'm serious, this is something that happens. It's not a bad thing. Think of it this way, every club manufacturer makes a pitching wedge, but they each have their own little tweaks. And we the consumer, benefit from having all of those options. But do not be fooled when a new slightly OS 12 speed comes out, it probably looks like a Destroyer.
My Experiences with the Destroyer:
My first Destroyer was a beat in 160g Pro Destroyer. I was maybe 10, and threw the hell out of that disc. I would eventually crack that disc in half, and afterwards I saved my money to get a Champion Destroyer! Not only that, when I walked in to DiscGolfMart, I saw that they had a weird Destroyer with metal flakes in it. I was maybe 14-15, and I probably threw 260ish feet at the time. Needless to say, my new shiny Destroyer was worthlessly overstable for me, and I traded it for an Eagle or something. I didn't really take disc golf seriously until I was 20, and I learned WHY that Destroyer was so different from the one I had, and I finally stopped hating Destroyers lol.
Adult me likes to throw them into headwinds as they are a bit too much disc for me. Although, I did stumble on a beat in D that was beautifully straight, but I ripped it into a lake. The natural resting place of all good Destroyers after all.
(2007) Kite
Flight Numbers: 5 6 -3 1
The Innova Kite is a faster, domier version of the Innova Stingray. They were designed to be used by beginners, and to glide with the wind. Usually discs are designed to resist the wind, the Kite was designed to embrace it. No disc glides farther than a Kite, and it goes where the wind goes. I don't think a professional players has ever bagged a Kite, but do not quote me on that. It was popular enough among beginners and intermediate players for it to remain in production for awhile, but it has gone OOP. Innova still makes runs of the Kite on the factory store from time to time, but there are not many Kite huckers left.
My Experiences with the Kite:
The Kite is the worst disc I have ever thrown. Do not buy this disc. I know someone in the comments is going to say 'I like to throw the Kite on hyzer in a tailwind and have it glide for MILES.' They're not lying to you, they probably do that. But in my experience, when you release a Kite, the flight path is in god's hands.
Now, I have only ever thrown a DX Kite, so maybe the premium versions of the Kite are more reliable. So if you want to be weird, go ahead and get one. But I warned you.
(2007) Gremlin
Flight Numbers: 5 4 0 2
Innova Gremlin
Discmania Gremlin or GM
Ching Sniper
Perhaps the only mold to go OOP for three different companies, the Innova Gremlin has a confusing history and few remaining fans. In 1998 Ching partnered with Innova, and Innova designed molds for them in a similar way that Innova produces/produced molds for Discmania, Millennium, and Infinite discs. The first disc Innova designed for Ching was the Sniper, and it was relatively popular for a short period, but eventually it went OOP for Ching.
Innova decided that they would try and release the Sniper under a new name in 2003, and they sold the Sniper as the Gremlin. To make things EVEN MORE confusing Innova came out with two Gremlins. The original Pro-Line Gremlins were pretty beefy, so when Innova re-released StaChampion discs as a part of the CFR program, they made them using the Gremlin L mold. The DX versions have always been the X mold.
The Gremlin did not last long, and Innova passed the Gremlin onto Discmania where it became the Discmania Gremlin or GM (Greater Midrange). That was actually when the Gremlin was officially PDGA approved. Discmania changed the flight numbers for the GM, but it was the same mold as the Innova version... Anyways, the GM was also not popular and it went out of print quickly.
The Gremlin was essentially a faster version of the Roc, but the Roc was just too popular to compete with at the time. That combined with the massive amount of Innova mids made it hard for the Gremlin to stand out. The Gremlin did have its fans though, and the old Pro-Line Gremlins are sought after. Discmania/Ching discs are automatically collectable, so those old Snipers and GMs are also worth money.
I have never thrown a Gremlin of any variety before.
(2007) Sonic
Flight Numbers: 1 2 -4 0
Sonic
GG Sonic
The Sonic is a catch / golf hybrid disc made by Innova. It is based off the old Hero 235 that Innova made for catch. Basically, the Sonic is a lid made by Innova that can be used for short turnover approach shots. Sonics are all turn and no fade, and that makes them pretty unique. Usually a '0' in the LSS is a flat out lie, but with the Sonic it is true!
The Sonic is a bit of a call back to the old lids made in the early 80s, and older players liked them. Ken Climo even bagged one for a little bit, but they were not thrown often in disc golf tournaments. For awhile the Sonic was impossible for Innova to sell, and it went OOP.
Then Garrett Gurthie started to get media coverage, and he throws the Sonic all over the place. Thanks to him, the Sonic has a growing fan club, and it may go back in full production here again. Sonics are usually made in lighter weights in DX, but Garrett asked Innova to make a heavy premium version of the Sonic for his tour series disc. Those GG Sonics are very valuable, especially because he seems to have switched to Wraiths for his tour series disc.
My Experiences with the Sonic:
I used to play catch with my dog with a Sonic... Does that count? I never used it for disc golf sadly, I wish I had though, it would have been fun.
(2008) XCaliber
Flight Numbers: 12 5 0 4
Echo-Star XCal
Sex-Cal
A more stable version of the Destroyer, the XCaliber was designed for sidearm throwers and for shots into headwinds for powerful players. While certainly not as popular as the Destroyer, the XCaliber has remained a popular disc for Innova since its release. XCalibers are overstable, but they are not brutally overstable like a Max or Monster. Which means that the XCaliber could be used for distance forehand lines and hyzer backhand lines.
Steve Brinster was a big fan of the XCaliber, but perhaps the most famous XCal thrower is Nate Sexton. Recently, Innova made the XCaliber his signature disc, and they are referred to as Sex-Cals.
Old Echo-Star XCals are sought after as are PFN XCals.
I have never thrown an XCaliber.
(2008) Pig
Flight Numbers: 3 1 0 3
Pig
Wysocki Pig
The Pig was the first Thumbtrac disc made by Innova since the Puma back in the 1999. The Pig was designed to be nearly glideless overstable disc for approach shots and windy putting situations. No one in their right mind would have thrown a Pig of the tee, and the Pig was not very popular for the majority of its existence. But it did have enough fans for it to remain in production, as it was hard to mock the utility of a disc like the Pig.
Meanwhile, Ricky Wysocki armed with the power of a Grecian god, threw Harps (a similar disc) as far as most people throw mid ranges. When Ricky switched to Innova, he swapped the Harp out for the Pig, and he throws Pigs everywhere. Now the Pig is a wildly popular disc! This is proof that sponsorship is important as the Pig was nothing prior to Ricky.
Andrew Marwede has also been known to flick a Pig, but I cannot think of any other pros who utilize this disc, but I imagine I am missing someone. Fun fact, a 150g Pig floats in water.
My Experiences with the Pig:
My Dad has been a Pig thrower since day 1. He has always used it for windy putts, and it works well for him. When I told him someone could throw a Pig 300+ feet, he did not believe me XD
I like the Pig, but I am more of a Gator person.
(2008) Monarch
Flight Numbers: 10 5 -4 1
Monarch
Super rare Star Monarch
The Monarch was Innova's first foray into 'groove' technology. Groove technology is where you place a channel in the rim of a disc to make it lighter. This was before blizzard plastic, so this was the only method Innova had to make lightweight distance drivers in premium plastic. The Monarch was aimed at beginners, and I do not recall a professional ever throwing one. The Monarch was included in the premium starter pack for awhile before being replaced by the Valkyrie.
The Monarch had some fans, but the groove technology and its association with another disc we will discuss later made the Monarch less popular. Eventually, the Monarch went out of print. However, the Monarch has been continuously available as a factory second do to the large number of factory seconds that occurred during the Monarch's production.
My Experiences with the Monarch:
The Monarch is a great disc for everyone. It is a great turnoveroller disc for advanced players, and it is a good starter driver for beginners. I think this disc got a bad rap, and I highly recommend a Monarch. Get one, they are really cheap.
(2008) Boss
Flight Numbers: 13 5 -1 3
Wiggins Boss
PFN Boss (RARE)
The first 13 speed disc, the Boss at the time of its release, was the farthest flying disc in disc golf.
And it still is.
In 2012 David Wiggins (who was only 16) broke the old 2002 Sandstrom record with an amazing 836ft toss with a lightweight Boss. Simon Lizotte would break his record 2 years with a 863ft toss... also with a Boss. David responded by throwing a Boss 1109ft. Now, I know that 1000+ toss was aided by a tremendous tailwind, but dear god a man threw a disc 1100 feet! That is absurd! That record still stands, and has been fairly safe. There are faster discs in production, and we will cover the Innova ones later in future guides. Those discs have the potential to beat the Boss, but we have yet to see the conditions/perfect throw required to best Wiggins.
Bosses were designed to simply be faster Destroyers, although they are known to be little less stable than Destroyers. A few professionals throw Bosses on the course, with Alex Russell and Ricky Wysocki being notable examples. The Boss is actually Alex's tour series disc! David Feldberg threw the Boss a lot too, and it was his signature disc for a short while.
Beginners and intermediate players also throw Bosses. A lot actually, Innova sells a lot of Bosses to beginners. Again, just like with the Destroyer, that may not be the best idea, but it happens all the time. Part of this is Innova's fault, they advertise lightweight Bosses as the farthest flying discs in the world (they are, if you can throw them right). So, when someone asks a new employee at a disc shop 'which disc goes the farthest for me,' they'll point at a Boss.
Believe it or not, I have never thrown a Boss!
(2008) Groove
Flight Numbers: 13 6 -2 2
Groove
The Groove was the second disc made with the groove technology, and it is often regarded as the worst disc ever made by Innova. Just like the Monarch, the channel in the rim allowed the Groove to be made in lighter weights, and Innova marketed the Groove towards beginners. I do not think a pro has ever bagged a Groove, I could be wrong though.
It was a bad idea to market the Groove towards beginners, as the Groove was too overstable for someone with low arm speed. Also, many throwers found the Groove to be uncomfortable to grip and it forces you to power grip the disc. The comfort thing is not as bad when you develop throwing callouses, but when you are new, a Groove can hurt! Quickly, the Groove gained an infamous image of being the worst disc in the world.
Despite this, the Groove remained in production for awhile and it still has a strong fan base. Just like the Monarch, the channel in rim caused many production errors, and there are tons of F2 Grooves on the pro shop.
Whenever this disc is mentioned in a forum, there are usually funny arguments that take place. If this post becomes popular, grab some popcorn and watch the comments.
My Experiences with the Groove:
Young me hated the Groove. Now that I have some arm speed, I don't hate the Groove as much. I don't like it, and I don't bag it. But it is usable. If you stack this disc next to a Stego or a Tilt, the Groove would win every time easily.
That's all for today.
Thanks as always for reading! If I got something wrong, please tell me and I will edit appropriately. A few people PM'd me asking if this guide was official. IT IS NOT. I am doing this as a fan of Innova discs, and they are by no means sponsoring/helping me write any of this.
2021.12.16 14:13 Trash_TiaThanksgiving 2020, I was kidnapped with two other students on my way home for the holidays-- A year later, we are not allowed in theatres anymore.
I like snow.
I've always liked it. How could I not?
It gave me a school day when I was a kid, and I could weaponize it in fights with my siblings. It brought along cosy nights with a movie and hot chocolate topped with marshmallows--snowball fights at school. I liked it, sure. At least--when it wasn't being thrown in my face.
I liked being a spectator--watching it from the comfort of my bedroom window. I could watch flakes dancing across my window pane for hours. That's the kind of snow I liked. I'm talking about the other kind. You know, the kind that you have to stand in-- the kind that gets into your bones and makes you wish you had worn a warmer coat in the morning. It was the bitter lashing across my raw cheeks, pretty flakes that had started off slow and light, becoming progressively heavier, hitting me in the face in a hurricane of white. That's the kind of snow I hated.
It was cold. It was so fucking cold, and I was starting to regret staying behind to help my professor clean the lecture hall. I have a hard time saying no to people. It sounds ridiculous, but I'm being serious. If I'm invited to a party when I have morning classes the next day, all the logic seems to be burned from my brain—and I say yes. When my dad asks me for cash for gambling—I say yes. And in this case, when my English professor asked me to help clean up books and equipment, even when it's a late class and I know that I have to get that last bus—I say yes.
So, technically, it was my fault that I'd found myself at odds with a snowstorm. When I let out a sharp exhalation, my breath twirled in the air in puffs of white. Dragon breath. That's what I called it when I was a kid. Pretty, I thought. I'd think it was pretty if I wasn't freezing my ass off on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. I've always been an unlucky person so I wasn't exactly surprised when I missed my bus back home. I'd rang for a cab, but most of them were busy. It was going to be an hour wait. So, I had accepted my fate. I was watching traffic fly by in a sharp blur of red which was hurting my eyes, when my phone vibrated in my jeans.
Mom. I could tell it was mom because she always sent multiple texts. Pulling off a glove with my teeth, I slipped my phone from my pocket, glimpsing 3 new notifications. All from mom. She'd tried calling me, and then sent two frantic messages in quick succession. I had to bow my head to shield my face from the brunt of the storm. Mom was making a huge deal of nothing as usual, though part of me revelled in that. I missed her. I was in my second year of college and still got homesick pangs in my gut when she rang and texted during class.
22:13: Mom: Why did you stay behind? I'll come and get you, it's not a long drive. Can you find a coffee shop?
Coffee shop? There was no coffee shop. The nearest Starbucks was back on campus—and campus would be my last resort if I couldn't get home. Which meant spending Thanksgiving alone with stale chips and Netflix shows.
I was already typing back with numb fingers. The last thing I wanted was mom driving nearly two hours at night to pick me up. I'd find another way. No, I'm fine, I texted. I'm getting a ride with a friend. Will be home soon.
So, I had no idea how I was going to get back home and was trying really hard not to freak out—but I wouldn't tell her that. Mom had more things to worry about than me. I told her I'd be fine, and that I'd call or text if there were any problems. When three bouncing ellipses popped up indicating she was typing, I bit back a groan. I could practically sense her wariness, and it was making me feel worse. Before she could send a dozen messages asking me if I was cold, if I was wearing warm clothing (yes) and who exactly this so-called friend was—I tapped off the app and checked the weather. Heavy snow was forecast for the next four hours. When I looked down, snow was accumulating on the sidewalk fast. It was nice to look at—sure. When I glanced up and caught the flurry under the lampposts glow, I felt comforted. I mean I did—until my phone attacked me with four more vibrations. Lit up on my notifications was a weather warning for snow, and another plethora of texts from mom.
Mom – 22:25: Are you sure? It's freezing!!!
Mom: 22:25: Which friend?
Mom: 22:25: Please be careful. I love you. Ring me when you're in the car. Dad's making dinner x
Instead of answering her, I shoved my phone in my pocket and slid my glove back on. It was too cold to type. Plus, I'm pretty sure she already knew I loved her too—and all the soppy bullshit. Bouncing on my heels to keep warm, I scanned the road in front of me. I just had to wait it out, and then I'd call a cab when one was available.
I fell into a sort of daze, watching the snow. It softened slightly—no longer hitting me in the face. I was frowning at the sky, trying to find stars in a pool of black—at least to entertain myself- when a voice startled me our of my stupor. I'd gone numb a while ago, so I was just standing, sort of swaying back and forth. I didn't notice the fancy black car pull up in front of me. When the engine revved though, warm exhaust fumes hitting me in the face, I almost cried in relief. There was a woman maybe in her mid-fifties sticking her head out of the window.
She was large and round with greying hair and kind eyes blinking up at me.
'What's a young lady like you doing out here?'
Gesturing to the flurry of snow prancing around me, she frowned. 'Sweetie, how on earth are you not an icicle?' Trying to laugh, I shook my head. I didn't realise my teeth were chattering until I opened my mouth.
'I'm okay,' I managed to get out. Though I was visibly shivering. 'I'm waiting for a ride.'
Blinking at me, she ushered me forwards. 'Come, come! Let me look at your hands!'
Her words were so forceful I stumbled forwards and showed her my frozen fingers. When she cradled her own hands around mine I felt the slightest bit of warmth—of comfort. I had to force myself not to cling onto her.
'Oh, you're frozen! Where are you headed?'
'Ohio.' I said, through gritted teeth.
The woman's smile broadened. 'Well, what a coincidence! We are too! Why don't you hop in?'
My first thought was to accept—of course it was. If I stayed out in the snow any longer I was sure frostbite was inevitable. I was poised and ready to jump forwards, but I hesitated on the curb. I'd heard horror stories about hitchhikers being hacked apart. Though they were just that— stories. I found myself nodding and grabbed the handle on the door, struggling to get it open.
The woman chuckled. 'It gets stuck sometimes, don't be afraid to give it a tug.'
I did, getting impatient. I was freezing to death and the only thing between me and instant warmth was the damn door. After three embarrassing attempts I finally got it open—only for something to smack against the window. It took me disorienting moment to realise it was a guy.
At first I thought it was a doll or a mannequin—the way his body was limp, his head hitting the pane. His face was hidden under a baseball cap and a mop of dark brown hair.
When I could only stare at him curled up against the window—twisted like a pretzel in possibly the most uncomfortable position I'd ever seen I shot a wary look at the kind woman. Though she just tutted. 'That's my son, Jonas. I'm sure he won't mind you clambering over him, sweetie. Don't be shy.'
It's not like I could ask him. When I accidentally kneed him in the gut in my frantic attempt to get to my seat, he didn't move. 'Uh—' I let out a nervous laugh, unsure whether to try again. Maybe he was sick. 'Is he okay?'
'Yes, yes—he's fine. It's been a busy day.'
With the guy's mother's sort of blessing I managed to scoot over him, careful not to wake him and slumped into the middle seat-- where I met my second unsuspected seat mate. This time it was a girl. Her head was against the window, a pretty halo of strawberry blonde curls.
She was sleeping too, though her neck was at an awkward angle. 'Don't mind my kids,' The woman murmured. 'They're tired. We've been on a family day out.'
'Ah.' I nodded, shooting a look at the girl. I caught drool on the window. 'That sounds... really great.'
The woman hummed. 'Mmm. It's been our first day out in quite a while. I think the excitement got to them.'
She seemed to be in her own world playing with the radio, so I focused on enduring the next few hours.
It couldn't be that hard, I thought. The backseat passengers were sleeping and their mother kept to herself.
I tried to get comfy, plonking my bag on my lap. Though it was hard with limited leg room. The whole car was like an oven—the perfect amount of warmth. When the mom reached forward and cranked up the radio playing 90's songs, I turned to my left neighbor—her son.
He was completely out of it. Just like the girl. The woman's words played over in my head. The excitement had got to them? They were my age—maybe a year older—so in their early to mid-twenties. I found it hard to believe that they had been so pooped out after a day out with their mom they'd passed out. Though I wasn't going to question it. I had a ride. I estimated it would take maybe an hour and a half if the woman kept at the pace she was going.
So, maybe I'd be a little late for dinner. That was fine though. My family had a tradition every night before Thanksgiving. We'd make pumpkin pie and play Monopoly. Dad usually burned the pie and blamed it on mom—so Monopoly was tense. Maybe it was a good idea I was missing it. 'Where did you go?' I asked, eager to make the journey go faster. 'With your kids, I mean.'
'Oh, just our special place.'
I opened my mouth to ask where exactly that place was when the woman reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a thermos, throwing it in my lap. 'There's hot cocoa in there if you need it,' she said. 'It might be a little lukewarm, but it's still good.' Her gaze found mine in passing headlights and her smile widened.
'It's delightful. You should try some if you're thirsty. After standing in the cold for so long, I couldn't imagine not being thirsty!'
My first instinct was to reject it, but the drink was warm in my hands—and the idea of hot or lukewarm chocolate after standing in a blizzard for almost two hours was heaven.
I nodded in thanks and screwed off the cap. After an experimental sip I got a mouthful of fresh whipped cream and marshmallows and I remembered how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten anything since lunch—which was just a limp burger and some fries. I gulped down the hot cocoa and sat back with a relieved breath. Passing back the thermos I shot the woman a grateful smile.
'Thank you.'
I noticed something smudged on the rim when she reached to put it back in the glove compartment.
Red, I thought. Lipstick. 'No problem!' Her voice was sing -song. 'It's a family recipe I've been using for years.'
I nodded, turning back to the guy. Still no movement. The hot cocoa crawled back up my throat in a sour paste. I had the sudden irresistible urge to start yelling. Maybe that might wake him up. 'So, did they have any?'
'Hmm?'
'Your kids.' I said patiently. 'Did they have any cocoa?'
I was starting to think – bad things. But I wasn't going to jump to conclusions yet.
The hot cocoa. If it was the reason behind them sleeping, there didn't have to be an insidious reason, right?
Maybe it was intentional. Maybe they wanted to sleep.
'Ah, Stella did, but Jonas missed out. I don't think hot cocoa agrees with him. The poor dear.' She was quick to change the subject. 'What's your name?' The woman caught my eye in the car mirror. 'Come on, don't be shy.'
Resting my clammy palms in my lap I managed a smile. 'Hey, you don't have to, uh, drop me off at home anymore. I can just call my mom and she can come and pick me up,' I said. 'Really, it's—it's no problem.'
'I said I'll take you all the way home, so that's what I'm doing. Now, what did you say your name was?'
I was starting to get that brewing feeling of panic. Her questions were getting personal, and I didn't want a quiz. What I wanted was to go home. When I glimpsed out of the window, the stretch of road in front was unfamiliar.
'Dodie.' I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. My gaze kept flicking to the woman's kids.
I couldn't stop looking at them, waiting for any inclination of movement—of life. There was nothing.
'Dodie? Very pretty. Is it short for anything?'
I shook my head. I never used my real name—only in official papers. Mom and dad did when they were pissed. 'Just Dodie.' I said, and then, because I couldn't stop myself, 'Which way is this? Are you sure you're going towards Ohio?' My voice was trembling slightly, and all of the nightmare scenario's I imagined in my head at 1am were starting to blossom into my mind one by one. The woman ignored my question with a sigh, leaning back into her seat.
'Dodie.' She hummed, murmuring my name to herself whimsically. 'Dodie, Dodie, Dodie.'
I'd found myself unable to stop staring at the girl lying against the window. I was waiting for her to wake up and tell her mom to turn down the radio, or maybe give me a sleepy greeting.
But she didn't move. Neither did the boy, still curled up against the opposite door. I nudged him slightly. Just with my elbow. When there was no response I did it again—harsher. Still nothing.
With the woman distracted I leaned over him where I finally found a face. His eyes were shut peacefully, dark brown hair hanging in clumsy curls across a bronze forehead.
'Hey.' I said, poking him in the face. I expected his eyes to fly open in almost a cartoon like fashion. They didn't, however. When I shoved him again, his body tipped further towards the window and I got a glimpse of the back of his head. I saw dark curls matted with something.
When my gaze flicked to his neck there was something pooling down pale skin and staining the collar of his shirt. Blood. The colour was unmistakable—glistening in his hair in the light of a passing car. I sat up too quickly and the world seemed to go topsy turvy, my vision blurring.
Blood, I thought feverishly.
From where he'd been hit from behind.
The heat that had once felt amazing on my icy skin was suddenly overwhelming—suffocating. I had to get out. Straightening in my seat I tried to smile—tried to act like my world wasn't collapsing around me. There was something clouding the edges of my vision, blurring in and out, in and out. When I turned my head to look outside I saw nothing. I only saw the dark.
There were no streetlights, no passing cars. The car picked up speed like she knew. 'Hey.' My voice came out in a sharp gasp. When I tried to sit up, my body didn't work like it should have, slumping into the girl. She was warm, I thought. She was breathing. I couldn't say the same for the boy. 'Actually, can you—can you let me out here?' Again, I tried to force my body into a sitting position but I couldn't move. My vision was feathering, going in and out of focus.
'Hey!' This time I cried out, but the woman didn't turn around. She was singing along to the radio. I recognised the lyrics crackling through buzzing static.
'What did you do to them?' I whispered, my words slurring. I felt the boy's head, and my fingers came back warm and wet. 'He—he needs a hospital!' I was yelling, but it's like my words weren't breaking through the sound barrier. I couldn't—think. The radio was distorted, an old recording of a song I'd heard a million times.
My body went into fight or flight. I had to get out. I didn't care how. I had to escape.
'Let...let me out!' I managed to force myself across the seat and reached for the door, but my fingers were numb—wrong, entangling with thin air. I grasped onto something real, something sturdy that could anchor me. But I only found the sleeping girl's shoulder, and I shook her until her head dropped limply against her chest.
My mouth opened with pleads for her to wake up-- for the boy to wake up. But she was still. She wasn't moving, and I knew why. I was stupid, I thought. I was so fucking stupid.
I should have waited. I should have waited for mom or gone back to the dorm. When my eyes went heavy, my arms flopping to my sides, I felt myself fall forwards. At some point my belt stopped me, but in my head I was falling down a hole, plunging further and further into the dark.
The car was moving, the two sleeping bodies beside me bumping into me every so often.
Except I couldn't move. I couldn't scream. The world continued to spin, even in the dark. I was spinning around and around and around, and all the while the woman continued to sing along to the radio on an endless loop.
'—Because of the wonderful things he does!'
And it started again.
Over and over again.
When I emerged from the dark I was aware of two things. I couldn't move—I was sitting upright, my head hanging—and I was too warm. Far too warm. I could almost pretend I was cosy if it weren't for something tight wrapped around my wrists—slicing into my flesh.
When I gave an experimental pull, they only tightened. There was a sharp aroma tickling in the back of my nose and throat, but I couldn't make sense of it. It smelled like mom's kitchen when I was a kid and I'd gotten too excited about dinner and knocked a freshly made pumpkin pie off of the table.
The smell, though, was too strong. Like it was close. So close, I could take a bite out of it.
When I cracked an eye open, I was greeted to a checker table cloth. And sitting on top of it was a bowl of pumpkin pie drizzled with custard. I could hear voices, but they were dulled, drowned out like I was underwater. For a moment I was confused. Was I home?
The table cloth wasn't familiar, but it made sense—right?
I was going home for Thanksgiving. The food in front of me looked home-cooked and my mouth watered. In the mess of my mind I was home with my parents. I was safe. But I was tied up.
The realisation hit me like icy cold water and I sat up straight, swallowing a scream clawing at my throat. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust because the room was so bright.
I was in a dining room. But it wasn't my mother's dining room. It was boxlike and mostly empty bar a cooker and refrigerator stuffed under a countertop which looked like it had once been clean, now yellowing and splattered with food stains. The rest of the kitchen wasn't much better—boxes overflowing with what looked like books and clothes covering the floor. The dining table in front of me presented a cooked turkey and bowls of vegetables—a beaker of thick gravy.
The voices I'd been blocking out seemed to drift back my ears. I was half aware of a figure hurrying around, setting knives and forks on the table.
Someone was sobbing—a girl. I was too scared to look. I kept my focus on my plate.
'I hope you like it!' A familiar voice trilled, and my body stiffened. I sensed her hovering over me, pouring something onto my plate—and my stomach twisted. 'I spent all day cooking, so you better appreciate it!'
I jumped when her hands entangled in my ponytail and wrenched my head up. 'Sit up straight, Dodie!'
When I did, or when I was forced to, I glimpsed the blonde girl opposite me. Stella.
This time she wasn't asleep, her eyes wide with fright, lips twisted with disgust. Her head was bowed, ringlets of blonde dangling in her face, shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.
Next to her was Jonas. Also awake, though barely. His eyes were half lidded, and I was reminded of his head injury. When his head dropped, the woman was behind him in the blink of an eye, ragging him up by his hair. 'What did I tell you?' she hissed in his face. 'We're going to have a nice family meal before I play with you. So, eat up! I want your hearts to be happy and healthy for tonight!'
Her words barely registered in my head—or I just didn't want them to.
'Fuck you.' Jonas spat, jerking away from her. 'What did you—hit me with?'
'The curved frying pan, of course!' The woman sang. 'It did the job didn't it?'
'You're a psycho!' He yelled. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?'
'Jonas, I will not tolerate that language,' she said stiffly. 'No son of mine—'
This time he laughed, though it was strangled.
'Are you stupid? I'm not your son! You whacked me over the head with a frying pan and threw me in your car!'
'Please.' Stella whimpered, her gaze glued to the table. 'Please let us go. I just want to go home.'
The woman seemed to take pity on her. 'Oh, Stella. I am going to let you go home. Eat up first, okay?'
'How are we supposed to eat when our hands are tied?' Jonas spoke up dryly. 'Do you expect us to eat like dogs?'
It turned out, yes—she did. Because if we didn't, she pulled out a gun and pointed it in our face. I felt all my dignity drain away as I ate like a fucking dog. The pumpkin pie was easy because I could just nibble on the crust and hope she wasn't watching. The actual turkey dinner was where I gave up being human for the sake of staying alive and chewed through rubber turkey and dry mash potatoes until it was coming back up my throat in a sour bile.
When I was done, the woman teased a glass of Coke in front of me, and I needed it. Swallowing hard, I parted my lips, letting her tip the glass so I could take a gulp. The soda was ice cold pouring into my mouth and dribbling down my chin in icy rivulets. When I stopped drinking, she only forced the glass further, and I choked on another mouthful. This time, the cola hit the back of my throat, a striking explosion causing my body to jerk.
'She's going to choke.' Jonas hissed out. 'Hey, she's going to choke!'
Stella started screaming.
'Stop.' I managed to splutter through a third mouthful. The glass rim gagged my lips as she forced it further into my mouth and I continued drinking, despite my stomach revolting. She didn't stop until the glass was empty, and my cheeks were burning, my lungs on fire. The woman finally retracted the drink with a bright smile.
'Better, Dodie?'
I could only nod, choking back tears.
When we were finished eating, the woman took our jackets and shoes and socks before ushering us to our feet. I struggled to stand up with my hands tied, but I didn't have a choice. When Jonas and Stella jumped up, I stayed still—petrified to my chair. It wasn't until the ice cold steel of her gun was protruding into the back of my neck when I forced myself to stand without tipping over.
I thought the woman was going to let us go—some naïve, hopeful, stupid part of me really thought that. Though when she led us through a lounge with a fireplace and down a winding hallway with peeling walls, I understood what my fate was. When I turned back I wanted to run.
I knew the way back to the door, and whether it was locked or not, I didn't care. I had to get out. But I couldn't move. I couldn't think. When we were shoved into the basement, my bare feet slapped on ice cold concrete and I shivered in my sweater. Stella and Jonas were a lot worse off—the two of them in jeans and a thin t-shirt.
Though I wasn't concentrating on what I was wearing, or the chill running through my body. I was staring at a cage in front of me. It looked homemade and from the look of it, we weren't the woman's first victims. I glimpsed a crumpled football jersey and a converse shoe. The woman stepped in front of us, her eyes glittering.
'Stand in a line.' She ordered. I noticed her hands around the gun were shaking.
She was excited.
We did as we were told, stumbling into a clumsy line. I stood in the middle, Jonas on my left, Stella on my right.
'Right. Okay. Stay like that!' she squealed before hurrying into a separate room.
She was gone for maybe a minute before returning, dragging along three figures. For a dizzying moment I thought she was carrying bodies, though when she stepped back into the light I realised they were life sized puppets—or figures. Something like that. I recognised them automatically. The characters from the Wizard Of Oz. When I was a kid we always watched it at Thanksgiving, though the sweet memories of curling up with my parents in front of a black and white Judy Garland were swallowed up, poisoned, by the woman's manic singing.
I stared at each figure. They had an uncanny resemblance to the real characters and looked to be homemade—though very well done. The straw on the scarecrow looked real, as well as the lion's fur. The tin man looked the most amateur but I couldn't help but marvel how perfectly sculpted its features were. Whoever had made the figures had some real talent. When the woman took a step towards us, we took a resounding step back.
'Do you like them?' she asked, with real childlike glee. 'I made them so long ago, though they still hold up to this day!'
Jonas was shivering, his shoulder bumping against mine.
'This is it?' He hissed through chattering teeth. 'This is what you wanted to show us?'
Shaking her head, the woman giggled. There was a glitter in her eye. I found my gaze back on the scarecrow's straw face. There was something smeared red below its cartoon mouth. Though the colour was dark. Old.
The woman caught my eye, her expression darkening. She turned to the scarecrow. 'Oh, did I not clean up properly? That's a shame. I wanted them to look brand new. They've been in storage for quite a while.'
Before any of us could speak, she was skipping towards us. The woman stood in front of Jonas first and poked his forehead, her smile growing sickeningly wide. 'Scarecrow.' She said, before hopping on one foot to Stella and tracing the material of her t-shirt. The girl squeaked but didn't try and get away. 'Tin Man.'
When she landed in front of me, I didn't look at her, even when she was prodding my chest and face. I was looking back at the scarecrow and the shades of red discolouring its mouth. It was there and I hadn't seen it.
Maybe I didn't want to see it. Sometimes out brain tricks us our perception when the truth is too hard to take in. I was looking at the Tin Man figure, and there it was—old, grainy red shining in the place where its heart should be. I was going to be sick. I knew—I knew what she wanted. I knew exactly what the crazy bitch wanted.
'Cowardly lion!' The woman's voice felt far away, even when she was right in front of my face.
'I don't understand.' Jonas whispered, Stella huddling into my side. 'What do you want?'
'Well, isn't it obvious?' She cocked a brow. 'You've read the Wizard of Oz, right? The lion wants courage, the Tin man wants a heart, and the Scarecrow—' Her gaze flicked back to Jonas. 'What did the scarecrow want?'
'He wanted a brain.' He said, his cheeks paling. I felt him stiffen up next to me. He bent over and gagged.
'You can't be—you can't be fucking serious!
The woman frowned. 'Why of course I'm serious!' She reached out and traced his face with crimson fingernails. 'I used my daughter initially, but she started smelling. I didn't like the smell. So, I want to start fresh!'
I blocked out most of what happened next. Because I don't want to relive it. She dragged away Stella, and I remember the girl's face. She wasn't screaming or crying or struggling. Her eyes were wide, petrified to thin air. She knew what was going to happen to her.
Jonas and I were shoved into the cage and threatened with the gun if we tried anything. I sunk to my knees and stared at the ground—until Stella's screams started up, melded with a drilling sound which pierced my ears. I expected Jonas to try and fight back, but he slipped to the ground, his back to the iron prongs of the cage. 'I'm going to die.' He said in a spluttered laugh.
'I'm going to fucking die, and I never told my mom I loved her. I never told—I never told my dad I didn't mean it when I called him a useless piece of shit—' His ramblings turned into sobs, and the boy was rocking backwards and forwards.
'I'm going to die. He whispered—and it hit me that he was right. We were going to die.
In the worst way possible.
Stella's cries continued on, and I couldn't block them out. When I buried my head in my lap they were somehow louder. I was trying to think of what my last words to my mom had been when warm breath tickled my cheeks.
When I lifted my head, blinking in dim light, Jonas was kneeling in front of me.
'Why don't we make a pact?' He hissed out a frenzied breath, eyes wide and determined. 'Right now. We make a pact that we all get out of here alive. And when we do, we can...' he trailed off. 'What do you like doing?'
I thought for a moment, but my mind was blank. 'Being alive.' I said through my teeth.
His lips curved into what could have been a smile. 'I mean a hobby.'
What did I like? I racked my brain but I couldn't think. 'Going to the movies?'
He nodded. 'Okay. We can—we can do that. What about the new Wonder Woman? I think it comes out Christmas Day, so we can go and see it a week after.'
His words weren't making sense. We were going to die, and he was setting up a three person date. 'What?'
'Wonder Woman.' Jonas repeated in a breath. 'Work with me. I know this is bad, but it's just like a horror movie. And there are survivors, right?' He pulled a face. 'I mean, sometimes there are. What I'm trying to say is we're going to get out of this, and then we'll go and see the new Wonder Woman, okay? Me, you and Stella.'
His words were comforting, and I found myself nodding, even when the drilling got louder.
'Right.' I said though a sob. I couldn't find a reality where that was possible, but I wanted to believe it in that moment. That's what Jonas wanted. He didn't want to sit in silence or cry or freak out. He wanted to hope.
'You, me and Stella.' He whispered. 'We'll get out of here. I know we will.'
We were both nodding and smiling, even when Stella's screams has stopped.
And the drilling had continued.
The world we'd built around ourselves for several peaceful minutes came crashing down when the woman hurried back. She wore a plastic apron which was painted red, her gloves dripping. Jonas got to his feet and pressed his face against the bars of the cage. 'Stella?'
His voice was a soft croak. I don't why he was calling for her, but even if he was, it still gave me slight flickering hope that somehow, the girl was still alive.
Even when I knew she wasn't.
Jonas pressed his head against the bars. 'Stella?' He whimpered. 'Stella?'
His voice became a whine, and then a sob. He slammed his head into the bars. 'Stella! Hey, Stella!'
'Stella is sleeping.' The woman said softly. 'She's gone home.'
Silence. Silence, and I couldn't take it anymore. I looked for anything— anything I could find to stop the world going on in front of me. I thought about smashing my head against the floor, but she'd just wait until I woke
When she took Jonas, I didn't look. I blocked out his cries and focused on the words he'd left me with. We were going to the movies, I thought. We were going to the movies. When the drilling started again, this time it was louder, and I forced my head into my lap and screamed so I couldn't hear him. I wanted to cover my ears, but I couldn't. Maybe she wanted that. Maybe she wanted me to hear everything in excruciating detail.
With my own choked scream blocking out the worst of it, I could still hear trickles of him coming through, so I imagined the noise wasn't a drill. I was back in my mother's garden watching my father cut through the lawn. I was seven years old again clutching a blueberry popsicle. 'Dad!' I shouted, keeping distance. The noise scared me. When dad turned around his eyes widened and he shut off the lawnmower. 'Go back inside, Dorothy!'
And then it hit me.
I never once thought of saying my name.
The illusion fizzled out and I lifted my head, jumping to unsteady feet.
'Hey!' I slammed my bound hands into the bars.
'You have a Scarecrow, and a Tin Man and a lion, right? What about a Dorothy?'
The drilling stopped, and so did the screams. My breaths came fast. It was a stupid idea, but if she really wanted a Dorothy— I could stall time to save Jonas. When the woman came back, her eyes were wide an trancelike.
'Dorothy?' She whispered, leaning into the bars. 'You're Dorothy?'
'Yes.' I gasped out.
Her gaze flicked to my bare feet. 'But.. where are your Ruby slippers?'
'I left them at home.' I startled myself with a laugh.
Her eyes glittered and I tried not to look at her dripping gloves. 'I've waited for so long.' She whispered.
'I've had so many Dorothy's, and they all grew cold. They all stopped smiling and started to smell.' Inclining her head, the woman seemed to be in awe. 'You're her? The real Dorothy I've been looking for all these years?'
I nodded, swallowing hard. I had to get Jonas out. Before I could speak, she opened the cage, her bony fingers wrapping around my arm. When I struggled, she stabbed the cold metal of her gun into my neck. I was pulled into a bright room, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't look. Whatever happened, I couldn't look. I wouldn't look. But as I was dragged, stumbling, staggering—I had to look to avoid falling and getting a bullet In my brain.
All I saw was silver surfaces. Makeshift beds spattered crimson. I saw figures hanging from the ceiling dressed in ragged clothes—and the smell. I had to swallow to stop myself gagging.
When I was slammed against a steel surface, she pressed her face against mine.
'You don't look like Dorothy. You don't have her hair or her dress, or her slippers!' She hissed out, pulling a trash bag in front of her. I saw severed limbs overflowing and I bit back a scream which she muffled with duct tape. 'Don't worry, my dear.' The woman whispered, her breath tickling my face. She gently pulled the bindings from my wrists. 'I'm going to make you into the perfect Dorothy.'
I focused on how quiet the room was. There was no heavy breathing, no sobbing. Nothing.
When she pulled out a dismembered leg, holding it up to the light and frowning at it, my body went into fight or flight, eliciting a response. She hadn't tied me down. Gasping through the tape on my mouth, I managed to sit up and grabbed at her blindly, and when she let out a shrill cry, I dug my fingernails into her flesh taking her off guard. When I was sure I had the upper hand I wrapped my arms around her neck and squeezed, sending the two us to the ground.
The impact felt like lightning bolts striking through my body. I cracked my head on rough concrete—stars exploding in the backs of my eyelids—but I forced myself to get up. If I didn't get up I was dead. Without her gun, she was just as weak as me. She struggled but I tightened my hold and with scrambling hands I grabbed for the first thing in my peripheral, something sharp, the blades still tainted red. I didn't think, bringing the weight of it down on her head until she stopped struggling, stopped squirming, her arms going limp.
I couldn't hear them anymore.
I couldn't their screams.
There was just me—and her.
At the corner of my eye, every surface glistened red. I kept going until I was screaming, until I knew she wasn't going to get back up. Part of me wished she had succeeded in killing me. Because then I wouldn't have been alive to witness what had done to the others.
When I shakily got to my feet, I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to get out, I thought. And the woman was right. I really was the cowardly lion. I didn't want to see her other victims. I didn't want to see her failures and successes. I was stumbling over to the exit with my hands covering my eyes — when a muffling sound caught me off guard. I went back to where I'd left her body, but the woman was still an explosion of red on the ground, pooling crimson growing around her.
Each slab of metal she was using as a bed was separated by yellow curtains. When I saw a flash of strawberry blonde curls hanging over the edge, something warm crawled up my throat.
I wouldn't look, I thought dizzily. I would never look.
I was making a beeline for the door to try and find a phone, when I glimpsed them.
The Tin Man and The Scarecrow were leaning against the wall. I found myself nose to nose with them.
The muffling sound got louder in my ears—it sounded distant. Faded.
There was something oozing down the Scarecrow's face. I caught rivulets of it running from its eye.
I stepped back. Something cold slithered down my spine, my lungs suddenly starved of oxygen.
I squeezed my eyes shut and counted.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
I counted. I kept counting until my breathing was steady.
Until the room was lighter, and things were less clearer.
The muffling was no longer faded, growing louder in my ears.
'Mmpphh!'
The noise was coming from across the room.
I found Jonas tied to one of the tables, a strip of tape covering his mouth. When I ripped it off, he gasped out.
'Am I good?'
I found myself nodding, ignoring startling gore splattered around him.
'Yeah.' I swallowed. 'You're okay.'
His lips curled into a smile. 'See. I told you we'd get out.'
A hand was suddenly on my shoulder. Stella. There was a warm smile on her lips.
'Let's go.' She shivered, grabbing my hand. Jonas jumped off of the bed, and I found my phone in the woman's pocket. I sat on the floor for a long time with them either side of me. They were talking, but I was mesmerised by the sight in front of me. I told myself I wouldn't look. But I was.
I couldn't take my eyes off of the cruel reality refusing to take hold. I wouldn't let it. The bronze arm hanging limply over steel, a halo of strawberry blonde curls tainted crimson—I wouldn't think about them. I buried my head in my arms, finding solace in the darkness.
'I'm sorry.' I said, the words tangled in my mouth.
The word followed me when the police came. An officer came to sit in front of me and gently lifted my head.
'Dorothy Park? Can you hear me?'
'She's in shock...' A far-away voice murmured.
I couldn't answer her. All I could say was sorry.
'I'm sorry.' I said, when I crawled into the back of a police car. My body was exhausted. After being checked over by paramedics I joined the others. Jonas jumped in after me, followed by Stella. 'I'm sorry.' I said, when Stella grabbed my hand and squeezed it. 'It's okay.' She said, leaning into me. Her curls tickled my cheeks. She was a lot colder than I remembered. 'I can't wait to go home,' she whispered, leaning back into the seat.
'Almost home, mom...'
I did hold that promise I made to Jonas.
The three of us have been inseparable since. They're my new best friends.
Mom tells me it's not healthy—especially when I took them to the Wonderwoman movie. She thinks being with them is only making it worse. They had to go back and visit their families, but they gave me them back. Though they are lighter now. Easier to carry. But I like them being here.
I like knowing they're always going to be here with me. My therapist told me I locked away a lot of things that I saw that night— and I know she's right. But I don't want to admit it.
I hid away in my own world because I couldn't handle it. A little like Dorothy. Sometimes I remember —- when pills bring me back to my reality. When I can't handle being with them.
When they make me cry. I've thrown them in the trash so many times, but I can't resist pulling them back out. I hide them away. I pretend they don't exist. But for now, they're here. I'm not going to let go of them again. I promised them.
Jonas and Stella are here as I type this.
We're going to see the new Spiderman movie. Jonas can't wait.
I just hope they'll let us into the theatre this time.
submitted byTrash_TiatoDrCreepensVault [link][comments]I've always liked it. How could I not?
It gave me a school day when I was a kid, and I could weaponize it in fights with my siblings. It brought along cosy nights with a movie and hot chocolate topped with marshmallows--snowball fights at school. I liked it, sure. At least--when it wasn't being thrown in my face.
I liked being a spectator--watching it from the comfort of my bedroom window. I could watch flakes dancing across my window pane for hours. That's the kind of snow I liked. I'm talking about the other kind. You know, the kind that you have to stand in-- the kind that gets into your bones and makes you wish you had worn a warmer coat in the morning. It was the bitter lashing across my raw cheeks, pretty flakes that had started off slow and light, becoming progressively heavier, hitting me in the face in a hurricane of white. That's the kind of snow I hated.
It was cold. It was so fucking cold, and I was starting to regret staying behind to help my professor clean the lecture hall. I have a hard time saying no to people. It sounds ridiculous, but I'm being serious. If I'm invited to a party when I have morning classes the next day, all the logic seems to be burned from my brain—and I say yes. When my dad asks me for cash for gambling—I say yes. And in this case, when my English professor asked me to help clean up books and equipment, even when it's a late class and I know that I have to get that last bus—I say yes.
So, technically, it was my fault that I'd found myself at odds with a snowstorm. When I let out a sharp exhalation, my breath twirled in the air in puffs of white. Dragon breath. That's what I called it when I was a kid. Pretty, I thought. I'd think it was pretty if I wasn't freezing my ass off on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. I've always been an unlucky person so I wasn't exactly surprised when I missed my bus back home. I'd rang for a cab, but most of them were busy. It was going to be an hour wait. So, I had accepted my fate. I was watching traffic fly by in a sharp blur of red which was hurting my eyes, when my phone vibrated in my jeans.
Mom. I could tell it was mom because she always sent multiple texts. Pulling off a glove with my teeth, I slipped my phone from my pocket, glimpsing 3 new notifications. All from mom. She'd tried calling me, and then sent two frantic messages in quick succession. I had to bow my head to shield my face from the brunt of the storm. Mom was making a huge deal of nothing as usual, though part of me revelled in that. I missed her. I was in my second year of college and still got homesick pangs in my gut when she rang and texted during class.
22:13: Mom: Why did you stay behind? I'll come and get you, it's not a long drive. Can you find a coffee shop?
Coffee shop? There was no coffee shop. The nearest Starbucks was back on campus—and campus would be my last resort if I couldn't get home. Which meant spending Thanksgiving alone with stale chips and Netflix shows.
I was already typing back with numb fingers. The last thing I wanted was mom driving nearly two hours at night to pick me up. I'd find another way. No, I'm fine, I texted. I'm getting a ride with a friend. Will be home soon.
So, I had no idea how I was going to get back home and was trying really hard not to freak out—but I wouldn't tell her that. Mom had more things to worry about than me. I told her I'd be fine, and that I'd call or text if there were any problems. When three bouncing ellipses popped up indicating she was typing, I bit back a groan. I could practically sense her wariness, and it was making me feel worse. Before she could send a dozen messages asking me if I was cold, if I was wearing warm clothing (yes) and who exactly this so-called friend was—I tapped off the app and checked the weather. Heavy snow was forecast for the next four hours. When I looked down, snow was accumulating on the sidewalk fast. It was nice to look at—sure. When I glanced up and caught the flurry under the lampposts glow, I felt comforted. I mean I did—until my phone attacked me with four more vibrations. Lit up on my notifications was a weather warning for snow, and another plethora of texts from mom.
Mom – 22:25: Are you sure? It's freezing!!!
Mom: 22:25: Which friend?
Mom: 22:25: Please be careful. I love you. Ring me when you're in the car. Dad's making dinner x
Instead of answering her, I shoved my phone in my pocket and slid my glove back on. It was too cold to type. Plus, I'm pretty sure she already knew I loved her too—and all the soppy bullshit. Bouncing on my heels to keep warm, I scanned the road in front of me. I just had to wait it out, and then I'd call a cab when one was available.
I fell into a sort of daze, watching the snow. It softened slightly—no longer hitting me in the face. I was frowning at the sky, trying to find stars in a pool of black—at least to entertain myself- when a voice startled me our of my stupor. I'd gone numb a while ago, so I was just standing, sort of swaying back and forth. I didn't notice the fancy black car pull up in front of me. When the engine revved though, warm exhaust fumes hitting me in the face, I almost cried in relief. There was a woman maybe in her mid-fifties sticking her head out of the window.
She was large and round with greying hair and kind eyes blinking up at me.
'What's a young lady like you doing out here?'
Gesturing to the flurry of snow prancing around me, she frowned. 'Sweetie, how on earth are you not an icicle?' Trying to laugh, I shook my head. I didn't realise my teeth were chattering until I opened my mouth.
'I'm okay,' I managed to get out. Though I was visibly shivering. 'I'm waiting for a ride.'
Blinking at me, she ushered me forwards. 'Come, come! Let me look at your hands!'
Her words were so forceful I stumbled forwards and showed her my frozen fingers. When she cradled her own hands around mine I felt the slightest bit of warmth—of comfort. I had to force myself not to cling onto her.
'Oh, you're frozen! Where are you headed?'
'Ohio.' I said, through gritted teeth.
The woman's smile broadened. 'Well, what a coincidence! We are too! Why don't you hop in?'
My first thought was to accept—of course it was. If I stayed out in the snow any longer I was sure frostbite was inevitable. I was poised and ready to jump forwards, but I hesitated on the curb. I'd heard horror stories about hitchhikers being hacked apart. Though they were just that— stories. I found myself nodding and grabbed the handle on the door, struggling to get it open.
The woman chuckled. 'It gets stuck sometimes, don't be afraid to give it a tug.'
I did, getting impatient. I was freezing to death and the only thing between me and instant warmth was the damn door. After three embarrassing attempts I finally got it open—only for something to smack against the window. It took me disorienting moment to realise it was a guy.
At first I thought it was a doll or a mannequin—the way his body was limp, his head hitting the pane. His face was hidden under a baseball cap and a mop of dark brown hair.
When I could only stare at him curled up against the window—twisted like a pretzel in possibly the most uncomfortable position I'd ever seen I shot a wary look at the kind woman. Though she just tutted. 'That's my son, Jonas. I'm sure he won't mind you clambering over him, sweetie. Don't be shy.'
It's not like I could ask him. When I accidentally kneed him in the gut in my frantic attempt to get to my seat, he didn't move. 'Uh—' I let out a nervous laugh, unsure whether to try again. Maybe he was sick. 'Is he okay?'
'Yes, yes—he's fine. It's been a busy day.'
With the guy's mother's sort of blessing I managed to scoot over him, careful not to wake him and slumped into the middle seat-- where I met my second unsuspected seat mate. This time it was a girl. Her head was against the window, a pretty halo of strawberry blonde curls.
She was sleeping too, though her neck was at an awkward angle. 'Don't mind my kids,' The woman murmured. 'They're tired. We've been on a family day out.'
'Ah.' I nodded, shooting a look at the girl. I caught drool on the window. 'That sounds... really great.'
The woman hummed. 'Mmm. It's been our first day out in quite a while. I think the excitement got to them.'
She seemed to be in her own world playing with the radio, so I focused on enduring the next few hours.
It couldn't be that hard, I thought. The backseat passengers were sleeping and their mother kept to herself.
I tried to get comfy, plonking my bag on my lap. Though it was hard with limited leg room. The whole car was like an oven—the perfect amount of warmth. When the mom reached forward and cranked up the radio playing 90's songs, I turned to my left neighbor—her son.
He was completely out of it. Just like the girl. The woman's words played over in my head. The excitement had got to them? They were my age—maybe a year older—so in their early to mid-twenties. I found it hard to believe that they had been so pooped out after a day out with their mom they'd passed out. Though I wasn't going to question it. I had a ride. I estimated it would take maybe an hour and a half if the woman kept at the pace she was going.
So, maybe I'd be a little late for dinner. That was fine though. My family had a tradition every night before Thanksgiving. We'd make pumpkin pie and play Monopoly. Dad usually burned the pie and blamed it on mom—so Monopoly was tense. Maybe it was a good idea I was missing it. 'Where did you go?' I asked, eager to make the journey go faster. 'With your kids, I mean.'
'Oh, just our special place.'
I opened my mouth to ask where exactly that place was when the woman reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a thermos, throwing it in my lap. 'There's hot cocoa in there if you need it,' she said. 'It might be a little lukewarm, but it's still good.' Her gaze found mine in passing headlights and her smile widened.
'It's delightful. You should try some if you're thirsty. After standing in the cold for so long, I couldn't imagine not being thirsty!'
My first instinct was to reject it, but the drink was warm in my hands—and the idea of hot or lukewarm chocolate after standing in a blizzard for almost two hours was heaven.
I nodded in thanks and screwed off the cap. After an experimental sip I got a mouthful of fresh whipped cream and marshmallows and I remembered how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten anything since lunch—which was just a limp burger and some fries. I gulped down the hot cocoa and sat back with a relieved breath. Passing back the thermos I shot the woman a grateful smile.
'Thank you.'
I noticed something smudged on the rim when she reached to put it back in the glove compartment.
Red, I thought. Lipstick. 'No problem!' Her voice was sing -song. 'It's a family recipe I've been using for years.'
I nodded, turning back to the guy. Still no movement. The hot cocoa crawled back up my throat in a sour paste. I had the sudden irresistible urge to start yelling. Maybe that might wake him up. 'So, did they have any?'
'Hmm?'
'Your kids.' I said patiently. 'Did they have any cocoa?'
I was starting to think – bad things. But I wasn't going to jump to conclusions yet.
The hot cocoa. If it was the reason behind them sleeping, there didn't have to be an insidious reason, right?
Maybe it was intentional. Maybe they wanted to sleep.
'Ah, Stella did, but Jonas missed out. I don't think hot cocoa agrees with him. The poor dear.' She was quick to change the subject. 'What's your name?' The woman caught my eye in the car mirror. 'Come on, don't be shy.'
Resting my clammy palms in my lap I managed a smile. 'Hey, you don't have to, uh, drop me off at home anymore. I can just call my mom and she can come and pick me up,' I said. 'Really, it's—it's no problem.'
'I said I'll take you all the way home, so that's what I'm doing. Now, what did you say your name was?'
I was starting to get that brewing feeling of panic. Her questions were getting personal, and I didn't want a quiz. What I wanted was to go home. When I glimpsed out of the window, the stretch of road in front was unfamiliar.
'Dodie.' I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. My gaze kept flicking to the woman's kids.
I couldn't stop looking at them, waiting for any inclination of movement—of life. There was nothing.
'Dodie? Very pretty. Is it short for anything?'
I shook my head. I never used my real name—only in official papers. Mom and dad did when they were pissed. 'Just Dodie.' I said, and then, because I couldn't stop myself, 'Which way is this? Are you sure you're going towards Ohio?' My voice was trembling slightly, and all of the nightmare scenario's I imagined in my head at 1am were starting to blossom into my mind one by one. The woman ignored my question with a sigh, leaning back into her seat.
'Dodie.' She hummed, murmuring my name to herself whimsically. 'Dodie, Dodie, Dodie.'
I'd found myself unable to stop staring at the girl lying against the window. I was waiting for her to wake up and tell her mom to turn down the radio, or maybe give me a sleepy greeting.
But she didn't move. Neither did the boy, still curled up against the opposite door. I nudged him slightly. Just with my elbow. When there was no response I did it again—harsher. Still nothing.
With the woman distracted I leaned over him where I finally found a face. His eyes were shut peacefully, dark brown hair hanging in clumsy curls across a bronze forehead.
'Hey.' I said, poking him in the face. I expected his eyes to fly open in almost a cartoon like fashion. They didn't, however. When I shoved him again, his body tipped further towards the window and I got a glimpse of the back of his head. I saw dark curls matted with something.
When my gaze flicked to his neck there was something pooling down pale skin and staining the collar of his shirt. Blood. The colour was unmistakable—glistening in his hair in the light of a passing car. I sat up too quickly and the world seemed to go topsy turvy, my vision blurring.
Blood, I thought feverishly.
From where he'd been hit from behind.
The heat that had once felt amazing on my icy skin was suddenly overwhelming—suffocating. I had to get out. Straightening in my seat I tried to smile—tried to act like my world wasn't collapsing around me. There was something clouding the edges of my vision, blurring in and out, in and out. When I turned my head to look outside I saw nothing. I only saw the dark.
There were no streetlights, no passing cars. The car picked up speed like she knew. 'Hey.' My voice came out in a sharp gasp. When I tried to sit up, my body didn't work like it should have, slumping into the girl. She was warm, I thought. She was breathing. I couldn't say the same for the boy. 'Actually, can you—can you let me out here?' Again, I tried to force my body into a sitting position but I couldn't move. My vision was feathering, going in and out of focus.
'Hey!' This time I cried out, but the woman didn't turn around. She was singing along to the radio. I recognised the lyrics crackling through buzzing static.
'What did you do to them?' I whispered, my words slurring. I felt the boy's head, and my fingers came back warm and wet. 'He—he needs a hospital!' I was yelling, but it's like my words weren't breaking through the sound barrier. I couldn't—think. The radio was distorted, an old recording of a song I'd heard a million times.
My body went into fight or flight. I had to get out. I didn't care how. I had to escape.
'Let...let me out!' I managed to force myself across the seat and reached for the door, but my fingers were numb—wrong, entangling with thin air. I grasped onto something real, something sturdy that could anchor me. But I only found the sleeping girl's shoulder, and I shook her until her head dropped limply against her chest.
My mouth opened with pleads for her to wake up-- for the boy to wake up. But she was still. She wasn't moving, and I knew why. I was stupid, I thought. I was so fucking stupid.
I should have waited. I should have waited for mom or gone back to the dorm. When my eyes went heavy, my arms flopping to my sides, I felt myself fall forwards. At some point my belt stopped me, but in my head I was falling down a hole, plunging further and further into the dark.
The car was moving, the two sleeping bodies beside me bumping into me every so often.
Except I couldn't move. I couldn't scream. The world continued to spin, even in the dark. I was spinning around and around and around, and all the while the woman continued to sing along to the radio on an endless loop.
'—Because of the wonderful things he does!'
And it started again.
Over and over again.
When I emerged from the dark I was aware of two things. I couldn't move—I was sitting upright, my head hanging—and I was too warm. Far too warm. I could almost pretend I was cosy if it weren't for something tight wrapped around my wrists—slicing into my flesh.
When I gave an experimental pull, they only tightened. There was a sharp aroma tickling in the back of my nose and throat, but I couldn't make sense of it. It smelled like mom's kitchen when I was a kid and I'd gotten too excited about dinner and knocked a freshly made pumpkin pie off of the table.
The smell, though, was too strong. Like it was close. So close, I could take a bite out of it.
When I cracked an eye open, I was greeted to a checker table cloth. And sitting on top of it was a bowl of pumpkin pie drizzled with custard. I could hear voices, but they were dulled, drowned out like I was underwater. For a moment I was confused. Was I home?
The table cloth wasn't familiar, but it made sense—right?
I was going home for Thanksgiving. The food in front of me looked home-cooked and my mouth watered. In the mess of my mind I was home with my parents. I was safe. But I was tied up.
The realisation hit me like icy cold water and I sat up straight, swallowing a scream clawing at my throat. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust because the room was so bright.
I was in a dining room. But it wasn't my mother's dining room. It was boxlike and mostly empty bar a cooker and refrigerator stuffed under a countertop which looked like it had once been clean, now yellowing and splattered with food stains. The rest of the kitchen wasn't much better—boxes overflowing with what looked like books and clothes covering the floor. The dining table in front of me presented a cooked turkey and bowls of vegetables—a beaker of thick gravy.
The voices I'd been blocking out seemed to drift back my ears. I was half aware of a figure hurrying around, setting knives and forks on the table.
Someone was sobbing—a girl. I was too scared to look. I kept my focus on my plate.
'I hope you like it!' A familiar voice trilled, and my body stiffened. I sensed her hovering over me, pouring something onto my plate—and my stomach twisted. 'I spent all day cooking, so you better appreciate it!'
I jumped when her hands entangled in my ponytail and wrenched my head up. 'Sit up straight, Dodie!'
When I did, or when I was forced to, I glimpsed the blonde girl opposite me. Stella.
This time she wasn't asleep, her eyes wide with fright, lips twisted with disgust. Her head was bowed, ringlets of blonde dangling in her face, shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.
Next to her was Jonas. Also awake, though barely. His eyes were half lidded, and I was reminded of his head injury. When his head dropped, the woman was behind him in the blink of an eye, ragging him up by his hair. 'What did I tell you?' she hissed in his face. 'We're going to have a nice family meal before I play with you. So, eat up! I want your hearts to be happy and healthy for tonight!'
Her words barely registered in my head—or I just didn't want them to.
'Fuck you.' Jonas spat, jerking away from her. 'What did you—hit me with?'
'The curved frying pan, of course!' The woman sang. 'It did the job didn't it?'
'You're a psycho!' He yelled. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?'
'Jonas, I will not tolerate that language,' she said stiffly. 'No son of mine—'
This time he laughed, though it was strangled.
'Are you stupid? I'm not your son! You whacked me over the head with a frying pan and threw me in your car!'
'Please.' Stella whimpered, her gaze glued to the table. 'Please let us go. I just want to go home.'
The woman seemed to take pity on her. 'Oh, Stella. I am going to let you go home. Eat up first, okay?'
'How are we supposed to eat when our hands are tied?' Jonas spoke up dryly. 'Do you expect us to eat like dogs?'
It turned out, yes—she did. Because if we didn't, she pulled out a gun and pointed it in our face. I felt all my dignity drain away as I ate like a fucking dog. The pumpkin pie was easy because I could just nibble on the crust and hope she wasn't watching. The actual turkey dinner was where I gave up being human for the sake of staying alive and chewed through rubber turkey and dry mash potatoes until it was coming back up my throat in a sour bile.
When I was done, the woman teased a glass of Coke in front of me, and I needed it. Swallowing hard, I parted my lips, letting her tip the glass so I could take a gulp. The soda was ice cold pouring into my mouth and dribbling down my chin in icy rivulets. When I stopped drinking, she only forced the glass further, and I choked on another mouthful. This time, the cola hit the back of my throat, a striking explosion causing my body to jerk.
'She's going to choke.' Jonas hissed out. 'Hey, she's going to choke!'
Stella started screaming.
'Stop.' I managed to splutter through a third mouthful. The glass rim gagged my lips as she forced it further into my mouth and I continued drinking, despite my stomach revolting. She didn't stop until the glass was empty, and my cheeks were burning, my lungs on fire. The woman finally retracted the drink with a bright smile.
'Better, Dodie?'
I could only nod, choking back tears.
When we were finished eating, the woman took our jackets and shoes and socks before ushering us to our feet. I struggled to stand up with my hands tied, but I didn't have a choice. When Jonas and Stella jumped up, I stayed still—petrified to my chair. It wasn't until the ice cold steel of her gun was protruding into the back of my neck when I forced myself to stand without tipping over.
I thought the woman was going to let us go—some naïve, hopeful, stupid part of me really thought that. Though when she led us through a lounge with a fireplace and down a winding hallway with peeling walls, I understood what my fate was. When I turned back I wanted to run.
I knew the way back to the door, and whether it was locked or not, I didn't care. I had to get out. But I couldn't move. I couldn't think. When we were shoved into the basement, my bare feet slapped on ice cold concrete and I shivered in my sweater. Stella and Jonas were a lot worse off—the two of them in jeans and a thin t-shirt.
Though I wasn't concentrating on what I was wearing, or the chill running through my body. I was staring at a cage in front of me. It looked homemade and from the look of it, we weren't the woman's first victims. I glimpsed a crumpled football jersey and a converse shoe. The woman stepped in front of us, her eyes glittering.
'Stand in a line.' She ordered. I noticed her hands around the gun were shaking.
She was excited.
We did as we were told, stumbling into a clumsy line. I stood in the middle, Jonas on my left, Stella on my right.
'Right. Okay. Stay like that!' she squealed before hurrying into a separate room.
She was gone for maybe a minute before returning, dragging along three figures. For a dizzying moment I thought she was carrying bodies, though when she stepped back into the light I realised they were life sized puppets—or figures. Something like that. I recognised them automatically. The characters from the Wizard Of Oz. When I was a kid we always watched it at Thanksgiving, though the sweet memories of curling up with my parents in front of a black and white Judy Garland were swallowed up, poisoned, by the woman's manic singing.
I stared at each figure. They had an uncanny resemblance to the real characters and looked to be homemade—though very well done. The straw on the scarecrow looked real, as well as the lion's fur. The tin man looked the most amateur but I couldn't help but marvel how perfectly sculpted its features were. Whoever had made the figures had some real talent. When the woman took a step towards us, we took a resounding step back.
'Do you like them?' she asked, with real childlike glee. 'I made them so long ago, though they still hold up to this day!'
Jonas was shivering, his shoulder bumping against mine.
'This is it?' He hissed through chattering teeth. 'This is what you wanted to show us?'
Shaking her head, the woman giggled. There was a glitter in her eye. I found my gaze back on the scarecrow's straw face. There was something smeared red below its cartoon mouth. Though the colour was dark. Old.
The woman caught my eye, her expression darkening. She turned to the scarecrow. 'Oh, did I not clean up properly? That's a shame. I wanted them to look brand new. They've been in storage for quite a while.'
Before any of us could speak, she was skipping towards us. The woman stood in front of Jonas first and poked his forehead, her smile growing sickeningly wide. 'Scarecrow.' She said, before hopping on one foot to Stella and tracing the material of her t-shirt. The girl squeaked but didn't try and get away. 'Tin Man.'
When she landed in front of me, I didn't look at her, even when she was prodding my chest and face. I was looking back at the scarecrow and the shades of red discolouring its mouth. It was there and I hadn't seen it.
Maybe I didn't want to see it. Sometimes out brain tricks us our perception when the truth is too hard to take in. I was looking at the Tin Man figure, and there it was—old, grainy red shining in the place where its heart should be. I was going to be sick. I knew—I knew what she wanted. I knew exactly what the crazy bitch wanted.
'Cowardly lion!' The woman's voice felt far away, even when she was right in front of my face.
'I don't understand.' Jonas whispered, Stella huddling into my side. 'What do you want?'
'Well, isn't it obvious?' She cocked a brow. 'You've read the Wizard of Oz, right? The lion wants courage, the Tin man wants a heart, and the Scarecrow—' Her gaze flicked back to Jonas. 'What did the scarecrow want?'
'He wanted a brain.' He said, his cheeks paling. I felt him stiffen up next to me. He bent over and gagged.
'You can't be—you can't be fucking serious!
The woman frowned. 'Why of course I'm serious!' She reached out and traced his face with crimson fingernails. 'I used my daughter initially, but she started smelling. I didn't like the smell. So, I want to start fresh!'
I blocked out most of what happened next. Because I don't want to relive it. She dragged away Stella, and I remember the girl's face. She wasn't screaming or crying or struggling. Her eyes were wide, petrified to thin air. She knew what was going to happen to her.
Jonas and I were shoved into the cage and threatened with the gun if we tried anything. I sunk to my knees and stared at the ground—until Stella's screams started up, melded with a drilling sound which pierced my ears. I expected Jonas to try and fight back, but he slipped to the ground, his back to the iron prongs of the cage. 'I'm going to die.' He said in a spluttered laugh.
'I'm going to fucking die, and I never told my mom I loved her. I never told—I never told my dad I didn't mean it when I called him a useless piece of shit—' His ramblings turned into sobs, and the boy was rocking backwards and forwards.
'I'm going to die. He whispered—and it hit me that he was right. We were going to die.
In the worst way possible.
Stella's cries continued on, and I couldn't block them out. When I buried my head in my lap they were somehow louder. I was trying to think of what my last words to my mom had been when warm breath tickled my cheeks.
When I lifted my head, blinking in dim light, Jonas was kneeling in front of me.
'Why don't we make a pact?' He hissed out a frenzied breath, eyes wide and determined. 'Right now. We make a pact that we all get out of here alive. And when we do, we can...' he trailed off. 'What do you like doing?'
I thought for a moment, but my mind was blank. 'Being alive.' I said through my teeth.
His lips curved into what could have been a smile. 'I mean a hobby.'
What did I like? I racked my brain but I couldn't think. 'Going to the movies?'
He nodded. 'Okay. We can—we can do that. What about the new Wonder Woman? I think it comes out Christmas Day, so we can go and see it a week after.'
His words weren't making sense. We were going to die, and he was setting up a three person date. 'What?'
'Wonder Woman.' Jonas repeated in a breath. 'Work with me. I know this is bad, but it's just like a horror movie. And there are survivors, right?' He pulled a face. 'I mean, sometimes there are. What I'm trying to say is we're going to get out of this, and then we'll go and see the new Wonder Woman, okay? Me, you and Stella.'
His words were comforting, and I found myself nodding, even when the drilling got louder.
'Right.' I said though a sob. I couldn't find a reality where that was possible, but I wanted to believe it in that moment. That's what Jonas wanted. He didn't want to sit in silence or cry or freak out. He wanted to hope.
'You, me and Stella.' He whispered. 'We'll get out of here. I know we will.'
We were both nodding and smiling, even when Stella's screams has stopped.
And the drilling had continued.
The world we'd built around ourselves for several peaceful minutes came crashing down when the woman hurried back. She wore a plastic apron which was painted red, her gloves dripping. Jonas got to his feet and pressed his face against the bars of the cage. 'Stella?'
His voice was a soft croak. I don't why he was calling for her, but even if he was, it still gave me slight flickering hope that somehow, the girl was still alive.
Even when I knew she wasn't.
Jonas pressed his head against the bars. 'Stella?' He whimpered. 'Stella?'
His voice became a whine, and then a sob. He slammed his head into the bars. 'Stella! Hey, Stella!'
'Stella is sleeping.' The woman said softly. 'She's gone home.'
Silence. Silence, and I couldn't take it anymore. I looked for anything— anything I could find to stop the world going on in front of me. I thought about smashing my head against the floor, but she'd just wait until I woke
When she took Jonas, I didn't look. I blocked out his cries and focused on the words he'd left me with. We were going to the movies, I thought. We were going to the movies. When the drilling started again, this time it was louder, and I forced my head into my lap and screamed so I couldn't hear him. I wanted to cover my ears, but I couldn't. Maybe she wanted that. Maybe she wanted me to hear everything in excruciating detail.
With my own choked scream blocking out the worst of it, I could still hear trickles of him coming through, so I imagined the noise wasn't a drill. I was back in my mother's garden watching my father cut through the lawn. I was seven years old again clutching a blueberry popsicle. 'Dad!' I shouted, keeping distance. The noise scared me. When dad turned around his eyes widened and he shut off the lawnmower. 'Go back inside, Dorothy!'
And then it hit me.
I never once thought of saying my name.
The illusion fizzled out and I lifted my head, jumping to unsteady feet.
'Hey!' I slammed my bound hands into the bars.
'You have a Scarecrow, and a Tin Man and a lion, right? What about a Dorothy?'
The drilling stopped, and so did the screams. My breaths came fast. It was a stupid idea, but if she really wanted a Dorothy— I could stall time to save Jonas. When the woman came back, her eyes were wide an trancelike.
'Dorothy?' She whispered, leaning into the bars. 'You're Dorothy?'
'Yes.' I gasped out.
Her gaze flicked to my bare feet. 'But.. where are your Ruby slippers?'
'I left them at home.' I startled myself with a laugh.
Her eyes glittered and I tried not to look at her dripping gloves. 'I've waited for so long.' She whispered.
'I've had so many Dorothy's, and they all grew cold. They all stopped smiling and started to smell.' Inclining her head, the woman seemed to be in awe. 'You're her? The real Dorothy I've been looking for all these years?'
I nodded, swallowing hard. I had to get Jonas out. Before I could speak, she opened the cage, her bony fingers wrapping around my arm. When I struggled, she stabbed the cold metal of her gun into my neck. I was pulled into a bright room, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't look. Whatever happened, I couldn't look. I wouldn't look. But as I was dragged, stumbling, staggering—I had to look to avoid falling and getting a bullet In my brain.
All I saw was silver surfaces. Makeshift beds spattered crimson. I saw figures hanging from the ceiling dressed in ragged clothes—and the smell. I had to swallow to stop myself gagging.
When I was slammed against a steel surface, she pressed her face against mine.
'You don't look like Dorothy. You don't have her hair or her dress, or her slippers!' She hissed out, pulling a trash bag in front of her. I saw severed limbs overflowing and I bit back a scream which she muffled with duct tape. 'Don't worry, my dear.' The woman whispered, her breath tickling my face. She gently pulled the bindings from my wrists. 'I'm going to make you into the perfect Dorothy.'
I focused on how quiet the room was. There was no heavy breathing, no sobbing. Nothing.
When she pulled out a dismembered leg, holding it up to the light and frowning at it, my body went into fight or flight, eliciting a response. She hadn't tied me down. Gasping through the tape on my mouth, I managed to sit up and grabbed at her blindly, and when she let out a shrill cry, I dug my fingernails into her flesh taking her off guard. When I was sure I had the upper hand I wrapped my arms around her neck and squeezed, sending the two us to the ground.
The impact felt like lightning bolts striking through my body. I cracked my head on rough concrete—stars exploding in the backs of my eyelids—but I forced myself to get up. If I didn't get up I was dead. Without her gun, she was just as weak as me. She struggled but I tightened my hold and with scrambling hands I grabbed for the first thing in my peripheral, something sharp, the blades still tainted red. I didn't think, bringing the weight of it down on her head until she stopped struggling, stopped squirming, her arms going limp.
I couldn't hear them anymore.
I couldn't their screams.
There was just me—and her.
At the corner of my eye, every surface glistened red. I kept going until I was screaming, until I knew she wasn't going to get back up. Part of me wished she had succeeded in killing me. Because then I wouldn't have been alive to witness what had done to the others.
When I shakily got to my feet, I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to get out, I thought. And the woman was right. I really was the cowardly lion. I didn't want to see her other victims. I didn't want to see her failures and successes. I was stumbling over to the exit with my hands covering my eyes — when a muffling sound caught me off guard. I went back to where I'd left her body, but the woman was still an explosion of red on the ground, pooling crimson growing around her.
Each slab of metal she was using as a bed was separated by yellow curtains. When I saw a flash of strawberry blonde curls hanging over the edge, something warm crawled up my throat.
I wouldn't look, I thought dizzily. I would never look.
I was making a beeline for the door to try and find a phone, when I glimpsed them.
The Tin Man and The Scarecrow were leaning against the wall. I found myself nose to nose with them.
The muffling sound got louder in my ears—it sounded distant. Faded.
There was something oozing down the Scarecrow's face. I caught rivulets of it running from its eye.
I stepped back. Something cold slithered down my spine, my lungs suddenly starved of oxygen.
I squeezed my eyes shut and counted.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
I counted. I kept counting until my breathing was steady.
Until the room was lighter, and things were less clearer.
The muffling was no longer faded, growing louder in my ears.
'Mmpphh!'
The noise was coming from across the room.
I found Jonas tied to one of the tables, a strip of tape covering his mouth. When I ripped it off, he gasped out.
'Am I good?'
I found myself nodding, ignoring startling gore splattered around him.
'Yeah.' I swallowed. 'You're okay.'
His lips curled into a smile. 'See. I told you we'd get out.'
A hand was suddenly on my shoulder. Stella. There was a warm smile on her lips.
'Let's go.' She shivered, grabbing my hand. Jonas jumped off of the bed, and I found my phone in the woman's pocket. I sat on the floor for a long time with them either side of me. They were talking, but I was mesmerised by the sight in front of me. I told myself I wouldn't look. But I was.
I couldn't take my eyes off of the cruel reality refusing to take hold. I wouldn't let it. The bronze arm hanging limply over steel, a halo of strawberry blonde curls tainted crimson—I wouldn't think about them. I buried my head in my arms, finding solace in the darkness.
'I'm sorry.' I said, the words tangled in my mouth.
The word followed me when the police came. An officer came to sit in front of me and gently lifted my head.
'Dorothy Park? Can you hear me?'
'She's in shock...' A far-away voice murmured.
I couldn't answer her. All I could say was sorry.
'I'm sorry.' I said, when I crawled into the back of a police car. My body was exhausted. After being checked over by paramedics I joined the others. Jonas jumped in after me, followed by Stella. 'I'm sorry.' I said, when Stella grabbed my hand and squeezed it. 'It's okay.' She said, leaning into me. Her curls tickled my cheeks. She was a lot colder than I remembered. 'I can't wait to go home,' she whispered, leaning back into the seat.
'Almost home, mom...'
I did hold that promise I made to Jonas.
The three of us have been inseparable since. They're my new best friends.
Mom tells me it's not healthy—especially when I took them to the Wonderwoman movie. She thinks being with them is only making it worse. They had to go back and visit their families, but they gave me them back. Though they are lighter now. Easier to carry. But I like them being here.
I like knowing they're always going to be here with me. My therapist told me I locked away a lot of things that I saw that night— and I know she's right. But I don't want to admit it.
I hid away in my own world because I couldn't handle it. A little like Dorothy. Sometimes I remember —- when pills bring me back to my reality. When I can't handle being with them.
When they make me cry. I've thrown them in the trash so many times, but I can't resist pulling them back out. I hide them away. I pretend they don't exist. But for now, they're here. I'm not going to let go of them again. I promised them.
Jonas and Stella are here as I type this.
We're going to see the new Spiderman movie. Jonas can't wait.
I just hope they'll let us into the theatre this time.
2021.12.16 00:29 Pyrite_n_Kryptonite“Please don’t think I find you unattractive” (part 3a, and the reason for the title)
Recap for those who don’t want to comb through previous posts but want info to be caught up: I had been bbqdpineapple here, and I fell in love with a woman in this forum last year. It ended badly, and I struggled with processing the experience. I also had a hard time being in this subreddit, in part, because the few times I came across posts from the woman I had fallen for, I not only would battle anxiety, but I also had a hard time forgiving her, and myself, and move on from the situation. After basically going quiet for a while, and wandering through occasionally since the end of June, in the middle of September I came across a post and she was the first respondent. It set off a massive anxiety reaction, I messaged her and said that I hoped she didn’t do to anyone else what she’d done to me, which included gaslighting, contempt, stonewalling, and then I deleted my account. Two days before my birthday (a week after I sent my message to her), she posted about the experience, saying she had waited a year to talk about this thing that had been weighing on her. A friend told me about the woman’s post, and I was both amused and stunned at what the woman had said, because for a long time I had been working to give her the benefit of doubt (we’re human and fallible, after all) regarding how things fell out, but her recounting of what happened was not just inaccurate, there were direct lies within it and was framed in a way that made her a good person and me a bad person, and elicited sympathy for her. I realized then that the benefit of doubt was no longer necessary on my part.
Since she’d avoided answering me directly when I'd asked her about her responses to things before she went No Contact with me, I finally got her “version” of the story in those lies. I was not going to come back here (let the situation/fallout with her sit as it was), but there are a lot of us wandering around trying to work out what this new understanding about ourselves means to us, what we do with it, and many of us open our hearts to new relationships. I’ve watched quite a few women come out boldly and move on with their lives, and also watched others quietly go back to Comp Het. I wondered, even before my own situation, if maybe they had fallen in love and had a bad experience or what caused the shift. Whether they simply decided to go away, had a bad wlw encounterelationship for the first time since coming out (or potentially coming out), or whether there was something between those extremes, their stories matter, too. That thought kept going through my head: I wish I had their stories, so what if it would benefit someone else to have mine? I grappled with it, started typing out some thoughts in early October, but since school has been hectic I’ve only been able to type here and there. I finally started posting last month (November), and this is the third part (links to the first two will be mentioned in this post).
I apologize for the delay for those who may be following along. I was going to post weekly, but the school term was challenging (and I instituted a policy with myself to not talk about this when I feel emotional about it), so there have been more breaks in the limited chances I did have to type things.
Note: I call my husband A, her (now ex) husband B, and she is C in this narrative. (And that should catch us up.)
After falling for C last year, her visit to my area in October (details of that can be found in the first post here: https://www.reddit.com/latebloomerlesbians/comments/qvi365/please_dont_think_i_find_you_unattractive_part_1/ ), the drama that ensued, and the split of A and me (with me going to C’s house on a very strict 2 month limit from B and C to get on my feet and out of their house, starting the week of Thanksgiving last year), I thought being at her place would at least be more peaceful than the previous months I’d gone through. I also hoped that it would give us time together, in a casual and somewhat constrained setting, so we could connect in person the way we had online.
However, like I said prior, I knew that I was going to be in her husband’s house, and I do believe in respecting those spaces, which meant that I had to put myself firmly on lockdown before going up there.
Let me back up a teeny bit here, and point out that I loved her. Deeply. I had fallen for her, openly (my husband had picked up on it even before I had acknowledged it to myself). As A put it, C was the me to the me that I had been looking for for years. A, when asked (and even when not, hah), will tell people that I have given too much of myself to people, and one point that bothered him about his and my relationship is that he watched me give to others for years (including to him) without getting much in return. Here, I finally had a connection with someone who seemed to understand, wanted to give in a reciprocal way, and who felt like an amazing “fit” in terms of interests, personality, dreams for the future, and more.
One of the reasons my marriage had been a challenge through the years was the disconnect between A and me in terms of interests. Before he and I were married (while he and I were still in the fundamentalist religious environment we’d leave), I’d had dreams of what being married would be like (who doesn’t), and yet the reality was…not that at all. It wasn’t just my trauma that made an appearance (which we didn’t know or understand, initially, and that alone created tension between us, and contributed to our Dead Bedroom), but I struggled to conform to the “wife” role, especially when I got sick and could no longer work and also come home to cook/clean. Beyond that, he and I had very few interests in common, which meant that if I was interested in something (such as going to a museum), I would either have to find friends to go with me or go by myself. However, in order to stay connected to him, when he had interests, I made a point to try to connect with them for our sake. That disparity was hard through the years, and I learned to minimize my interests and wants (and either go alone or find someone else to go with me when I did want to do something), or compromise by doing what he liked.
That often meant that I felt I was having to parse out pieces of myself, or share limited parts of myself with others. Yet, with C, the more we talked about what we liked, what interests we had, the more it felt that I had finally met this one person that I wouldn’t have to partition myself with. It was uncanny how much it seemed we had in common, and what we wanted from life. It made me feel that I could be wholly and completely me, and all of my pieces would be appreciated.
Isn’t that also part of this journey for many of us? Realizing how much we partitioned through the years, and finally wanting to stand before someone else and be seen, completely, and loved, also completely, for who (all of who) we are? But not just to be seen, but to see someone else, connect with them and their heart and who they are, and know that there is a meld, a fit between one person and another on a level we might not have experienced before.
I didn’t realize, until her, how many of my dreams, interests, and wants had slowly faded through the years. But, apparently my heart had held on to them, and when I fell for her, my heart once again woke up to the wants and dreams. I could picture us, she and I, turning off the lights and dancing on the deck with slow music under the stars; building a garden where we could have our own oasis; spending time tucked away in bed together laughing and talking, or getting up late on a Saturday (simply because we could) and going to a market and getting fresh ingredients then spending time in the kitchen together, or running out to a new exhibit at a museum; reading books together or talking about a new article on AI or space or the new dinosaur bones that had just been found; going on hikes together (and maybe finding spots to snuggle along the way); taking a drive anywhere for a few hours and just enjoying nature and each other’s company, and so much more. I can do (and do) many of these things with other people in my life, but to have that one person I could share all of that with felt…magical. Even though I knew I would be sharing her with her family, it still felt like more than what I’d experienced in my marriage in that way, and I wanted to have that opportunity with her.
Then let’s add in the sexuality aspect. I had felt broken for years. Wondered what was wrong with me sexually. I’d been able to get aroused before I was married (although my kiss with my catalyst showed me the vast differences between what I felt then and what I could feel, but I wouldn’t know that until decades later), but shortly after getting married is when my health tanked, and I thought that my lack of arousal/desire was due to my health or the trauma issues that had come up. It’s hard for me to say this, but since I’ve been talking about it in therapy recently, I’m going to bring it up here: My husband believed that “she comes first” (which I know isn’t always the case), but that created a lot of pressure for me to have an orgasm so we could then focus on him/his pleasure. I don’t even know when I began to do this, but I could get my body to orgasm without any arousal (he had asked me to never fake an orgasm, because he wanted it to be real and true, so that meant either I orgasmed and he could have his, or if I couldn’t or didn’t then it would sometimes lead to a fight or him leaving the bedroom in anger, so I can see how/why I began to do so but that is only in retrospect). Eventually, and I don’t even know when I began to do this, I began to fantasize about women, and that would get me to orgasm even more quickly, so that became my default when I was with him, and when I was by myself (usually to ease cramps from periods, because I also have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, which can mean awful periods) I would orgasm without arousal because I saw orgasm as a tool to help ease the cramps and not much more than that. Sex was not about slowing down, enjoying the moment, or even enjoying myself in the moment, and I have been curious to know what a different framework for that connection with someone would be like.
Whether it was purity culture, abuse, disconnect/tension in my marriage, or other things, I never felt sexy or sexual, and the attempts I made in my marriage to spark things failed. It was painful, but I still kept trying to connect there (he does admit that I did so, long after he had checked out). I did so even after A told me (relatively early in our marriage) that he was not sexually attracted to me (which served to make me feel even more like a failure with each failed attempt to appeal to him). When we did have sex (with the expectation that I orgasm first) I ended up feeling like a fleshlight for him. I couldn’t understand why he still wanted sex with me, which is why in 2012, I had gotten to where I told him that if he wanted to pursue something with someone else, he was free to do so. It was clear he was frustrated by our Dead Bedroom and I didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay limited for my sake (or even stay married). He rejected the idea of an outside relationship for himself, and, by that point, he was drinking heavily which meant I also had to juggle cleaning up after drinking binges, navigating sexual relations with drunk him, and manage both the internal and external stresses of sex. Needless to say, sex was not something I looked forward to. I also didn’t enjoy solo play, even though I was that friend that encouraged others to explore themselves and watched several of them (not literally, haaaah!) move beyond the fundamentalist framework we had been raised in, and start learning to explore their bodies. For me, I didn’t know if it was because I had other factors to deal with, but I could not connect with myself even when I knew I should. Not seeing myself as sexy/sexual was part of it, but no matter how much I wanted to feel sexy to/for myself, I couldn’t. Not even with solo play. That was always practical. And yet, I wanted (such a mild word compared to how it felt) the sexual connection that I’d read about for years, the losing of self with someone else, knowing I would be safe, seen, loved. Without shame or inhibitions. With laughtejoy. But also wanting to know that I was seeing someone else, and enjoying the whole aspect of who they were, and how that would enhance my own experience.
I wanted to be able to give, not just take. There is something so…powerfully sexy to me about the idea of having a woman in my hands and.... Perhaps it's because I know how locked down I had been for years, and how difficult it could be for me that colored the image, but the thought of watching a woman enjoy what I wanted to do to her was so sexy (and I was finally where I could admit this want to myself).
I never could quite get this all to line up with A, and that made me feel guilty. (This is something that I’ve seen come up here often enough, so I know I’m not alone, and it is something that can sit in our heads for years and make us wonder why things aren’t lining up before we realize we are gay.) I couldn’t understand why there was such a disconnect, I just knew that there was one. My catalyst experience helped me understand a large part of that context (as Emily Nagoski speaks to), and the concordance. However, I also felt that my catalyst was not someone that would be good relationship fit, so there was grief involved in that I didn’t think I would ever line up all of these pieces of myself. On one hand my catalyst had showed me that I was not broken sexually, but I couldn’t share much of the other pieces of me with her. Then there was A, who I could share some other pieces with, and we truly had become best friends through the years, built businesses together, etc., but the sex was…empty. With C, I finally felt that it all was coming together.
This is partly why I made the decision to go to C’s house when she made the offer. After much discussion with my therapist, I made the choice to, for the first time, really and consciously choose me, even though I knew it would also be painful to divorce if that’s what it led to. I had no idea how things were going to end up with C, and I had no idea how things were going to end up with A (although, at that point, and he says this, too, we both felt that divorce was inevitable), but I was finally for the first time making an active and conscious choice to choose me. Even if nothing worked out with C, I needed to get out of that conditioned environment that (in many ways) was a continuation of trauma from my childhood, stretch a little, and see how I could or would grow.
I did have options, as A pointed out. I could have stayed local while he moved, gone to my best friend’s house, or gone to C’s. My trauma therapist liked the idea of me finally getting footing regarding my sexuality, and so after much anxiety, moments of panic, struggle, tears, pain over the thought of really possibly losing A, I made the choice to go to C’s. Despite some of the reservations I felt about how interested she was, I thought that even if we never got into a full relationship, at least our friendship was solid and would hold, and having that friendship and support felt invaluable when looking toward an uncertain future.
Did I say that I loved her? That’s like calling a flood a stream, a hurricane a small storm. She was, I thought, worthy of upending my life, going out on this limb. The 2-month hard deadline from B and C for me to be at their house felt manageable, because A and I had talked extensively about this being a separation, and although he had made it clear that if we divorced he expected me to walk away with nothing, he had also said that he would support me during the separation.
A’s biggest discomfort was that I was going to C’s house, and although he understood the points the therapist had made about me getting some footing, he also made it clear that if C and I had sex, he was out. If we divorced, I knew I’d have no financial support, unless I fought him legally (and since I had no funds for that, I had no idea how that would end up). For me, I knew that if C and I had sex, it would mean we were actually in a relationship. She had also offered to help me financially if I needed it, in extension to staying with her. I did not want to have to take her up on that as that is not my nature, but I kept it in the back of my mind, just in case (if the situations had been reversed, I would have offered the same). So, I went to C’s house knowing that going there truly could mean the end of my marriage. This is partly why when A went one direction and I went the other, we separated our items and he took his stuff and I took mine.
Going to C’s place, as I mentioned in the first of these posts, was going to be a challenge, and I knew it. I had no illusions about my chances to get a job: I’d been out of the work-force for years, I was looking during a pandemic, and I knew I’d be applying during Christmas season (typically a slow turnaround time), but I figured I could begin all of the processes that needed beginning, and even if I didn’t have a sure job by the end of the two months, I’d probably have enough applications put in that something would come through. Being at her place though would give me the chance to look for apartments, get the job applications in, start the process toward building something for myself, no matter how things went (with A or C).
I also remained concerned about how B felt about me being in his house, especially since A had said he felt that B wasn’t as comfortable with it as C had stated, and I knew B and C had come out of a religious environment also (with B still occasionally checking out other denominations), so I didn’t want to infringe on any lines/boundaries that B may hold despite leaving their religion. Before I got to their house, I made sure to lock myself down hard regarding arousal/thoughts of C, because I didn’t want to act in any way that B might take as a slight to him. That was difficult because I was feeling my body wake up after being so dissociated from it, and I wanted to lean into the connection I was starting to feel with myself (and C), but knew that if I did get a chance to do so, it would be once I got my apartment. That thought brought stress with it, because if I was actually getting that chance to lean in, it would mean A and I were divorcing/divorced for sure, and I would have no support, so it was a mix of exciting and terrifying to think about. I told myself to just take each day at a time, and really tried hard to simply focus on getting the job/apartment taken care of.
The first week I was there, C took me out for breakfast and to show me around. I paid for it, because I wanted to minimize how much of a burden I was/could be, and made sure to pay C back money she had given me prior in case I needed it for emergencies, as well as give a couple hundred dollars toward groceries. (I knew that one of B’s constant gripes was about money, and I wanted to be sure that I did not give them cause to be angry over what I paid/did not pay. I asked multiple times what I needed to give to help offset the expense of me staying with them, and I picked up groceries a couple of times for the family on top of what I paid them in cash.) Then, I had that moment when B came into the area when I was sleeping (see those details here: https://www.reddit.com/latebloomerlesbians/comments/r35ti1/please_dont_think_i_find_you_unattractive_part_2/ ), we had Thanksgiving to get through, and by Saturday of that week, I was relieved when C offered for me to go with them on a visit to a state/national park in their area.
Nature is my happy place, and I needed that breather in so many ways. Part of my need to get away was wrapped up in knowing that I had wished some friends and my potentially-ex in-laws Happy Thanksgiving, and had gotten some very chilly responses which let me know that A had already been telling some friends (as he informed me) that we were separated at the moment, with the potential of it being permanent. It was hard to think that some of those relationships were already shifting, but I knew it was possible when he told me that he was telling people about what we were doing. It’s still an emotional hit though.
Going to the park with B and C (getting out in nature, and a good walk) and the snowball fight C’s daughter and I had the following week were probably the most relaxed I was when I was there, even though my muscles yelled at me the next day (totally worth it!).
By Tuesday the 8th of December, I had one interview (that I declined to go back for a follow up for, because it was a sales position that relied on commission, which I found out only in the first interview or I wouldn’t have gone to the first interview, and I needed a steady paycheck figure I could rely on when applying for apartments), and by the 11th, I had an interview with a group for a volunteer position. I have been wanting to get into advocacy of some kind, and this was with a sexual assault center. If I did volunteer (as I found out when I asked), I might be able to segue that into a job. I was pretty excited about that, but kept applying to other jobs because the volunteer to paid, if it happened, could take as long as a year (or more).
Along with this, I was getting a few hours here and there with an attorney I work with doing research. It wasn’t much, but I knew that whatever hours I worked would help toward an apartment or other costs.
I need to make a brief correction here. I said at the end of post 2 that Lisie, one of my birds, died on the 11th. I had forgotten that my photo album had glitched at one point, and put wrong dates on photos. I went back to verify the date recently, and realized that Lisie died on the 14th. That is only relevant because a lot happened in that timeframe, and I wanted to be clear on the order of events.
Why am I mentioning all of this when I should be talking about my relationship with C? It’s relevant. But, I also mention it because I’m trying to set the scene for the interactions we had.
Between the puppy keeping the birds on edge, and me spending time with the family while the puppy was awake (and running around in the living room area, which kept the birds wound up), my time to look for jobs and work the part time one I did have was during the day until around 3ish (although sometimes that was later, sometimes sooner), and then after midnight after B and C went to bed. I would usually stay up and work on more job applications, or use that time to look for apartments, do research, or catch up with A or friends. Along with this, my phone was losing charge often, so I kept my phone on a charger downstairs so that I could have it available at night, so I wasn’t even able to use my phone to do some of that catching up. It all had to happen later (or during the day before I went upstairs).
I knew that I wasn’t sleeping much, with some nights getting no sleep at all, but I didn’t realize until I recently went back and looked at notes to friends, etc. that I was not sleeping a lot more than I’d thought. It may be one reason why I started getting more migraines, but the stress alone could have done that.
I usually fell asleep between 2 and 3 am (if I slept). B often got up by 4/4:30, and he would let the puppy out, which meant that the puppy would then come back in and start playing with toys. Between hearing the footsteps overhead, the dog running, toys banging, I would often wake up a bit, then fall back asleep until my alarm at 6:30. I was struggling to get it all done, but I knew I had a deadline that I was working toward so I couldn’t let up much. Even on weekends, before I could hear the family up and moving in the main area, I would often do more job searches and save them for the following week to apply to.
My third week there, I got the news that my father-in-law’s health was much worse than expected, and I was trying to talk more with A, when I could, about how that was impacting him. It wasn’t just me that had a difficult relationship with my father-in-law, and I knew that his father’s declining health could bring up some of those past memories for A. But, since he was busy at work, and I was mostly unavailable until midnight-ish, it was still less than we had been used to talking, and that was impacting both of us, because no matter how our marriage ended up we both were still friends first and foremost. I still loved him and wanted to be sure he was as okay as possible, despite the circumstances.
For the most part, C and I interacted when I was upstairs with the family. Despite her asking me to spend more time upstairs per B’s request, when she was at work I was less inclined to do so because I needed to focus to look fofill out applications (it was easier for me to do my part-time research upstairs than it was to do the job searches), and I also struggled to be around B due to his comments and attitude. I was also starting to notice that any time she and I hugged before she went to work, or if she offered me a hug in general, if B was in the room he would watch. I don’t think he meant anything by it, and for most people it may seem like nothing, but having already been triggered by him (and not fully knowing how at the time, understanding that came much later), knowing that he was watching made me feel even more like I had to be so very careful to not make him think I was disrespecting him and/or his house (and that was simply easier through minimizing my interactions until I had to be in the common spaces when everyone was around) or let C lead the way in interactions she and I had.
The weekend of December 12/13 was a point of note in several ways.
Saturday, B stated that we all needed to clean the house after several weeks of disarray. I was given the room the birds were in to clean and the basement bathroom, and everyone else was given their respective areas. To start things off, C put on a music list, and we all began to clean. I had been changing the cage papers at the beginning of every week (I didn’t do it more often because I was trying to keep the birds as uninterrupted as possible), and every night before going to bed I swept that room's floor (which I had to do on my hands and knees because I couldn’t get a broom or vacuum around the other things in that space), but I know that birds can create a lot of dander, so I made a point to pull anything I could away from walls, and wipe the walls as much as I could, cleaned each blind slat, cleaned the windows, and pulled up the air duct vent covers and cleaned as far as I could in the air ducts. At one point (C was upstairs cleaning and the kids were away, working in the areas they were supposed to be in), B was in the main living room area and I was in the other room. The music that had been playing (C’s list) was still going, and out of the blue B started complaining about the music. “What is this? What kind of music is this?!?” By that point, I had learned that he complained like a dripping faucet (lights, kids, money, things), but here he was complaining about the music his wife put on. I sat there thinking to myself, how weird it was that a grown man, who knew it was his wife’s music playing, would be so petulant about it. It was vocal, insistent, and annoying enough (he even came to the doorway of the room I was working on and asked the question in a way that almost felt like he was asking me why I had put the music on, which was so weird to me because we both knew it was his wife’s music) that I found myself gritting my teeth while trying to clean, and it made me think even more that perhaps the relationship that had been presented as solid between B and C was not such. It was also notable that when C came back downstairs, the complaining stopped. That then made me wonder if he was trying to needle me because the music had some songs she and I had connected over (and did he know that?), or if there was more involved in his (perhaps unexamined or deliberate) complaining. Either way, I was glad to escape to downstairs and clean the bathroom I was using (which I was also doing often, but getting away to clean the bathroom was worth the peace).
That evening, we adults went out to eat and came back to drama at the house, with the end result being that B was annoyed enough to tell the kids that if they didn’t go to bed, he was going to spank them both. I mention that only because it may be relevant to how the next day went.
Sunday morning, C and I sat at the kitchen table talking about many things (patriarchy, our upbringings, etc.) while the kids occupied themselves with games and B came and went into the area off and on or played video games. At one point, C was talking about an insecurity of hers, and she said, “I can see that you are feeling sorry for me.” I replied with how I was feeling, which was that I was not feeling sorry for her, rather I was feeling for all of us who have ever dealt with that insecurity and wishing I could hug us all. It’s not fun to feel insecure about our bodies, and I know the damage it can create inside, and it often makes me wish I could hug the world and put all of our pieces back together. I tried to express that to her. Her response indicated that she wasn’t sure if she believed me, but I let it go.
That afternoon C and I went downstairs to the basement to wrap Christmas presents. That gave us a chunk of uninterrupted time to talk. There, I shared some articles A had sent me regarding Twin Flames and Microcheating, because I was baffled by his comments. Was it a retroactive response on his part? I didn’t know. (I have asked myself since then if that was one thing that she used later on against me.)
In that ongoing conversation as we wrapped presents, she asked me if I felt she was the same in person as she presented herself online. I paused a second, then said yes. There were things that I was not sure about, and so not having definitive “You are/are not like what you presented,” I could only default to yes, but I did have some reservations because there were some inconsistencies that I had chalked up to the situation being as complex as it was.
As the conversation progressed, she mentioned how she was jealous of my catalyst. When I asked why, she said that it was because my catalyst and I were able to go to Pride together the year before, and had spent time together. I didn’t say it, but I sat there thinking, “Why be jealous of someone who hasn’t come close to experiencing what you and I are talking about having between us?” It gave me a moment of, “Huh?” but I let it go, because I figured that if it was something to actually deal with (she and I had talked, months prior, extensively about communication, and how important it is to have that in a relationship, about boundaries, about kindness), we could address it after all the commotion of me being at their place had died down.
Later in the conversation, she also mentioned that she was concerned that once I got on my feet, I would no longer be interested in her and would want to date other women. Considering I had given her no reason to feel that way (I was there, in her house, discussing relationship stuff with her and the possibility of a future together), it made me wonder where that was coming from (especially also because she knew how difficult and challenging my marriage had been, and yet I had been faithful, so why would that change simply because I was with a woman). As A points out, I am not only stubborn, but I am (as he says) “steadfast” and extremely loyal (to my own detriment, at times).
As the conversation continued, we started talking about the types of women we are attracted to. She told me what she was attracted to, and then asked me what my type was. I answered simply, “You.” Which was true, because she not only presented as butch/futch (butch is an automatic attention grab from me, and while I do appreciate the whole scale from femme to butch, I appreciated her esthetic), but she also matched the intellect and interests and so much that made her appealing to me. She didn’t really reply to that, and the conversation kept going.
At one point, she started talking about a friend of hers that she found attractive, and then said something along the lines of that she hoped it wouldn’t hurt my feelings, but that if she could ever have sex with that friend she would. It set me back a second, but I replied that I know couples who navigate such things and talk about/through them without it being an issue.
Let me point out here that it wasn’t that she made that comment, it was how she said it. When she made the comment that her friend wore very pretty bras, her eyes lit up and sparkled in a way that I had never seen them sparkle when she spoke with me. That was…a revelation, for sure. I also realized that although she had made references to exclusivity with me (along with her husband) prior, that clearly either she had changed her mind or something had shifted.
It was disorienting to be told that she expected that I might want to explore later and that it bothered her, while in the same conversation I was being told, without any equivocation or sense of irony, that she expected to be able to explore other women if she got the chance. It was there that I began to wonder if some of my concerns about being a third wheel, again, in a romantic relationship were not just fears but reality. I do not expect to be the be-all/end-all for someone. We are humans with varying needs and wants, and I do recognize this. I am not everything, nor can I even pretend to myself that I am. But, I spent years having to take second (or third or fifth) place in my marriage (it is something he and I have discussed extensively through the years), and it was a hard hit to my heart to realize that I was with someone who seemed to expect me to put her first, but was setting my expectations for her to not do the same fowith me.
The afternoon wore on and we kept wrapping presents, and then there was a commotion because her son was angry about something, then B was clearly angry about something. After the presents were finished and she went upstairs, I could hear the murmur of C and B’s voice and then she came back down to explain that B had been upset because he wasn’t sure what dinner plans would be since she and I had spent all day together. She was trying to explain why B had angrily left the house to go for a walk (and find their son), and that things were smoothed out again. Meanwhile, I was still trying to process not just the emotional load of B being angry and expressing that, but also what she and I had talked about.
Because of how the day had gone, I’d kept the birds covered, in part because I had noticed Lisie going downhill (and planned to call the vet the next morning when offices were open) and I wanted to minimize issues for them while I was downstairs that afternoon. I was worried about Lisie, bothered by how the weekend had gone, dealing with stress from A (regarding his job and his father), and the conversation with C was an additional stress.
In the morning, I went upstairs to check on the birds, and Lisie had died during the night. It took time to call and connect with a vet who could do a necropsy that day, and when C came home for lunch I told her that I would need to take Lisie to the vet for a necropsy and I would not be back until later. C hugged me, and then I left.
The drive to and from the vet was over 3 hours, and I ended up grabbing dinner on my own and then drove out to a lake to sit there for a while. Grieving. Stunned. Wondering what mess I had truly gotten myself into. It was challenging being there, and I knew it would be, but the emotional weight was getting heavier and heavier. Trying to navigate all of this was a lot. I didn’t have my therapist to help me navigate this, just the therapy books I was trying to work through that my therapist recommended, and the marriage counselor A and I were seeing during this time via teletherapy.
Because I do believe in communication, as C and I had talked about, I addressed the only thing I could think about regarding the weekend, which was that I could at least find out from C what her thoughts were. I sent her a message saying that it seemed that I was not her type, and that I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. (Because of how time ran together, I can’t remember if I did it that night, or the next morning while she was at work.)
She replied back with, “Please don’t think I find you unattractive,” then pointed out how I was missing the forest for the trees (or only seeing the trees and not the forest, or something along those lines). Because she often presented herself as being a stickler for honesty, the first thought I had was saying, “I don’t find you unattractive,” is definitely not the same as saying, “I find you attractive.” Was her “honesty” code so strong that she can’t even admit that she didn’t find me attractive? (I do realize trauma does hardwire our brains for negativity so that was probably in play in my reaction, and yet, this was supposed to be someone who said she loved me and wanted to be with me, but did she really?)
Let me point out here (again) that I know I’m not beautiful, but because of the experience I had with my husband for years, I at least want to feel somewhat desirable or desired by the person I am in a relationship with. I certainly don’t want to feel as though the person I am thinking about being intimate with would rather do so with a bag over my head (or over my body). Candidly, that is where my catalyst had the edge: she made it clear that she wanted me. My catalyst had made me feel desirable, and I thought I would have that with C. To find out that was possibly not the case? It hurt.
When C got home from work the day after Lisie died, she asked if she could come downstairs and we talked about her response to me a little bit. Her daughter came down, and C explained to her that C had hurt my feelings and we were smoothing it over. It helped a little, but my heart…yeah that was hurting. For multiple reasons.
At some point, I messaged a friend to ask for their take on the comment that had been made (someone who knew about the situation with C and me, and who is also gay), and I asked if I was out of line for feeling hurt. My friend replied that, no it wasn’t out of line for me to be hurt, and that it did sound like somehow something had shifted in C, or between C and B, or something, but she agreed with me that this whole thing was feeling more convoluted. We both felt that either C wasn’t telling me the whole story of what was going on with her, or that something else was off, but we couldn’t figure out where/how.
I’d known that the situation with C might not go well, but I’d at least expected her to communicate with me if her feelings changed. One thing my trauma therapist had been working with me on was not catastrophizing, so I resolved to go back to what I had been doing: applying to jobs, looking for apartments, and let the rest fall as it would. But I admit, her comment, on top of navigating around her husband, dealing with my own, trying to find a job and an apartment was...not easy, and I really wasn't sure where it all would land.
This is a decent stopping point (thanks to Reddit’s character limit), so I’ll pick up with Part 3b next week.
submitted byPyrite_n_Kryptonitetolatebloomerlesbians [link][comments]Since she’d avoided answering me directly when I'd asked her about her responses to things before she went No Contact with me, I finally got her “version” of the story in those lies. I was not going to come back here (let the situation/fallout with her sit as it was), but there are a lot of us wandering around trying to work out what this new understanding about ourselves means to us, what we do with it, and many of us open our hearts to new relationships. I’ve watched quite a few women come out boldly and move on with their lives, and also watched others quietly go back to Comp Het. I wondered, even before my own situation, if maybe they had fallen in love and had a bad experience or what caused the shift. Whether they simply decided to go away, had a bad wlw encounterelationship for the first time since coming out (or potentially coming out), or whether there was something between those extremes, their stories matter, too. That thought kept going through my head: I wish I had their stories, so what if it would benefit someone else to have mine? I grappled with it, started typing out some thoughts in early October, but since school has been hectic I’ve only been able to type here and there. I finally started posting last month (November), and this is the third part (links to the first two will be mentioned in this post).
I apologize for the delay for those who may be following along. I was going to post weekly, but the school term was challenging (and I instituted a policy with myself to not talk about this when I feel emotional about it), so there have been more breaks in the limited chances I did have to type things.
Note: I call my husband A, her (now ex) husband B, and she is C in this narrative. (And that should catch us up.)
After falling for C last year, her visit to my area in October (details of that can be found in the first post here: https://www.reddit.com/latebloomerlesbians/comments/qvi365/please_dont_think_i_find_you_unattractive_part_1/ ), the drama that ensued, and the split of A and me (with me going to C’s house on a very strict 2 month limit from B and C to get on my feet and out of their house, starting the week of Thanksgiving last year), I thought being at her place would at least be more peaceful than the previous months I’d gone through. I also hoped that it would give us time together, in a casual and somewhat constrained setting, so we could connect in person the way we had online.
However, like I said prior, I knew that I was going to be in her husband’s house, and I do believe in respecting those spaces, which meant that I had to put myself firmly on lockdown before going up there.
Let me back up a teeny bit here, and point out that I loved her. Deeply. I had fallen for her, openly (my husband had picked up on it even before I had acknowledged it to myself). As A put it, C was the me to the me that I had been looking for for years. A, when asked (and even when not, hah), will tell people that I have given too much of myself to people, and one point that bothered him about his and my relationship is that he watched me give to others for years (including to him) without getting much in return. Here, I finally had a connection with someone who seemed to understand, wanted to give in a reciprocal way, and who felt like an amazing “fit” in terms of interests, personality, dreams for the future, and more.
One of the reasons my marriage had been a challenge through the years was the disconnect between A and me in terms of interests. Before he and I were married (while he and I were still in the fundamentalist religious environment we’d leave), I’d had dreams of what being married would be like (who doesn’t), and yet the reality was…not that at all. It wasn’t just my trauma that made an appearance (which we didn’t know or understand, initially, and that alone created tension between us, and contributed to our Dead Bedroom), but I struggled to conform to the “wife” role, especially when I got sick and could no longer work and also come home to cook/clean. Beyond that, he and I had very few interests in common, which meant that if I was interested in something (such as going to a museum), I would either have to find friends to go with me or go by myself. However, in order to stay connected to him, when he had interests, I made a point to try to connect with them for our sake. That disparity was hard through the years, and I learned to minimize my interests and wants (and either go alone or find someone else to go with me when I did want to do something), or compromise by doing what he liked.
That often meant that I felt I was having to parse out pieces of myself, or share limited parts of myself with others. Yet, with C, the more we talked about what we liked, what interests we had, the more it felt that I had finally met this one person that I wouldn’t have to partition myself with. It was uncanny how much it seemed we had in common, and what we wanted from life. It made me feel that I could be wholly and completely me, and all of my pieces would be appreciated.
Isn’t that also part of this journey for many of us? Realizing how much we partitioned through the years, and finally wanting to stand before someone else and be seen, completely, and loved, also completely, for who (all of who) we are? But not just to be seen, but to see someone else, connect with them and their heart and who they are, and know that there is a meld, a fit between one person and another on a level we might not have experienced before.
I didn’t realize, until her, how many of my dreams, interests, and wants had slowly faded through the years. But, apparently my heart had held on to them, and when I fell for her, my heart once again woke up to the wants and dreams. I could picture us, she and I, turning off the lights and dancing on the deck with slow music under the stars; building a garden where we could have our own oasis; spending time tucked away in bed together laughing and talking, or getting up late on a Saturday (simply because we could) and going to a market and getting fresh ingredients then spending time in the kitchen together, or running out to a new exhibit at a museum; reading books together or talking about a new article on AI or space or the new dinosaur bones that had just been found; going on hikes together (and maybe finding spots to snuggle along the way); taking a drive anywhere for a few hours and just enjoying nature and each other’s company, and so much more. I can do (and do) many of these things with other people in my life, but to have that one person I could share all of that with felt…magical. Even though I knew I would be sharing her with her family, it still felt like more than what I’d experienced in my marriage in that way, and I wanted to have that opportunity with her.
Then let’s add in the sexuality aspect. I had felt broken for years. Wondered what was wrong with me sexually. I’d been able to get aroused before I was married (although my kiss with my catalyst showed me the vast differences between what I felt then and what I could feel, but I wouldn’t know that until decades later), but shortly after getting married is when my health tanked, and I thought that my lack of arousal/desire was due to my health or the trauma issues that had come up. It’s hard for me to say this, but since I’ve been talking about it in therapy recently, I’m going to bring it up here: My husband believed that “she comes first” (which I know isn’t always the case), but that created a lot of pressure for me to have an orgasm so we could then focus on him/his pleasure. I don’t even know when I began to do this, but I could get my body to orgasm without any arousal (he had asked me to never fake an orgasm, because he wanted it to be real and true, so that meant either I orgasmed and he could have his, or if I couldn’t or didn’t then it would sometimes lead to a fight or him leaving the bedroom in anger, so I can see how/why I began to do so but that is only in retrospect). Eventually, and I don’t even know when I began to do this, I began to fantasize about women, and that would get me to orgasm even more quickly, so that became my default when I was with him, and when I was by myself (usually to ease cramps from periods, because I also have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, which can mean awful periods) I would orgasm without arousal because I saw orgasm as a tool to help ease the cramps and not much more than that. Sex was not about slowing down, enjoying the moment, or even enjoying myself in the moment, and I have been curious to know what a different framework for that connection with someone would be like.
Whether it was purity culture, abuse, disconnect/tension in my marriage, or other things, I never felt sexy or sexual, and the attempts I made in my marriage to spark things failed. It was painful, but I still kept trying to connect there (he does admit that I did so, long after he had checked out). I did so even after A told me (relatively early in our marriage) that he was not sexually attracted to me (which served to make me feel even more like a failure with each failed attempt to appeal to him). When we did have sex (with the expectation that I orgasm first) I ended up feeling like a fleshlight for him. I couldn’t understand why he still wanted sex with me, which is why in 2012, I had gotten to where I told him that if he wanted to pursue something with someone else, he was free to do so. It was clear he was frustrated by our Dead Bedroom and I didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay limited for my sake (or even stay married). He rejected the idea of an outside relationship for himself, and, by that point, he was drinking heavily which meant I also had to juggle cleaning up after drinking binges, navigating sexual relations with drunk him, and manage both the internal and external stresses of sex. Needless to say, sex was not something I looked forward to. I also didn’t enjoy solo play, even though I was that friend that encouraged others to explore themselves and watched several of them (not literally, haaaah!) move beyond the fundamentalist framework we had been raised in, and start learning to explore their bodies. For me, I didn’t know if it was because I had other factors to deal with, but I could not connect with myself even when I knew I should. Not seeing myself as sexy/sexual was part of it, but no matter how much I wanted to feel sexy to/for myself, I couldn’t. Not even with solo play. That was always practical. And yet, I wanted (such a mild word compared to how it felt) the sexual connection that I’d read about for years, the losing of self with someone else, knowing I would be safe, seen, loved. Without shame or inhibitions. With laughtejoy. But also wanting to know that I was seeing someone else, and enjoying the whole aspect of who they were, and how that would enhance my own experience.
I wanted to be able to give, not just take. There is something so…powerfully sexy to me about the idea of having a woman in my hands and.... Perhaps it's because I know how locked down I had been for years, and how difficult it could be for me that colored the image, but the thought of watching a woman enjoy what I wanted to do to her was so sexy (and I was finally where I could admit this want to myself).
I never could quite get this all to line up with A, and that made me feel guilty. (This is something that I’ve seen come up here often enough, so I know I’m not alone, and it is something that can sit in our heads for years and make us wonder why things aren’t lining up before we realize we are gay.) I couldn’t understand why there was such a disconnect, I just knew that there was one. My catalyst experience helped me understand a large part of that context (as Emily Nagoski speaks to), and the concordance. However, I also felt that my catalyst was not someone that would be good relationship fit, so there was grief involved in that I didn’t think I would ever line up all of these pieces of myself. On one hand my catalyst had showed me that I was not broken sexually, but I couldn’t share much of the other pieces of me with her. Then there was A, who I could share some other pieces with, and we truly had become best friends through the years, built businesses together, etc., but the sex was…empty. With C, I finally felt that it all was coming together.
This is partly why I made the decision to go to C’s house when she made the offer. After much discussion with my therapist, I made the choice to, for the first time, really and consciously choose me, even though I knew it would also be painful to divorce if that’s what it led to. I had no idea how things were going to end up with C, and I had no idea how things were going to end up with A (although, at that point, and he says this, too, we both felt that divorce was inevitable), but I was finally for the first time making an active and conscious choice to choose me. Even if nothing worked out with C, I needed to get out of that conditioned environment that (in many ways) was a continuation of trauma from my childhood, stretch a little, and see how I could or would grow.
I did have options, as A pointed out. I could have stayed local while he moved, gone to my best friend’s house, or gone to C’s. My trauma therapist liked the idea of me finally getting footing regarding my sexuality, and so after much anxiety, moments of panic, struggle, tears, pain over the thought of really possibly losing A, I made the choice to go to C’s. Despite some of the reservations I felt about how interested she was, I thought that even if we never got into a full relationship, at least our friendship was solid and would hold, and having that friendship and support felt invaluable when looking toward an uncertain future.
Did I say that I loved her? That’s like calling a flood a stream, a hurricane a small storm. She was, I thought, worthy of upending my life, going out on this limb. The 2-month hard deadline from B and C for me to be at their house felt manageable, because A and I had talked extensively about this being a separation, and although he had made it clear that if we divorced he expected me to walk away with nothing, he had also said that he would support me during the separation.
A’s biggest discomfort was that I was going to C’s house, and although he understood the points the therapist had made about me getting some footing, he also made it clear that if C and I had sex, he was out. If we divorced, I knew I’d have no financial support, unless I fought him legally (and since I had no funds for that, I had no idea how that would end up). For me, I knew that if C and I had sex, it would mean we were actually in a relationship. She had also offered to help me financially if I needed it, in extension to staying with her. I did not want to have to take her up on that as that is not my nature, but I kept it in the back of my mind, just in case (if the situations had been reversed, I would have offered the same). So, I went to C’s house knowing that going there truly could mean the end of my marriage. This is partly why when A went one direction and I went the other, we separated our items and he took his stuff and I took mine.
Going to C’s place, as I mentioned in the first of these posts, was going to be a challenge, and I knew it. I had no illusions about my chances to get a job: I’d been out of the work-force for years, I was looking during a pandemic, and I knew I’d be applying during Christmas season (typically a slow turnaround time), but I figured I could begin all of the processes that needed beginning, and even if I didn’t have a sure job by the end of the two months, I’d probably have enough applications put in that something would come through. Being at her place though would give me the chance to look for apartments, get the job applications in, start the process toward building something for myself, no matter how things went (with A or C).
I also remained concerned about how B felt about me being in his house, especially since A had said he felt that B wasn’t as comfortable with it as C had stated, and I knew B and C had come out of a religious environment also (with B still occasionally checking out other denominations), so I didn’t want to infringe on any lines/boundaries that B may hold despite leaving their religion. Before I got to their house, I made sure to lock myself down hard regarding arousal/thoughts of C, because I didn’t want to act in any way that B might take as a slight to him. That was difficult because I was feeling my body wake up after being so dissociated from it, and I wanted to lean into the connection I was starting to feel with myself (and C), but knew that if I did get a chance to do so, it would be once I got my apartment. That thought brought stress with it, because if I was actually getting that chance to lean in, it would mean A and I were divorcing/divorced for sure, and I would have no support, so it was a mix of exciting and terrifying to think about. I told myself to just take each day at a time, and really tried hard to simply focus on getting the job/apartment taken care of.
The first week I was there, C took me out for breakfast and to show me around. I paid for it, because I wanted to minimize how much of a burden I was/could be, and made sure to pay C back money she had given me prior in case I needed it for emergencies, as well as give a couple hundred dollars toward groceries. (I knew that one of B’s constant gripes was about money, and I wanted to be sure that I did not give them cause to be angry over what I paid/did not pay. I asked multiple times what I needed to give to help offset the expense of me staying with them, and I picked up groceries a couple of times for the family on top of what I paid them in cash.) Then, I had that moment when B came into the area when I was sleeping (see those details here: https://www.reddit.com/latebloomerlesbians/comments/r35ti1/please_dont_think_i_find_you_unattractive_part_2/ ), we had Thanksgiving to get through, and by Saturday of that week, I was relieved when C offered for me to go with them on a visit to a state/national park in their area.
Nature is my happy place, and I needed that breather in so many ways. Part of my need to get away was wrapped up in knowing that I had wished some friends and my potentially-ex in-laws Happy Thanksgiving, and had gotten some very chilly responses which let me know that A had already been telling some friends (as he informed me) that we were separated at the moment, with the potential of it being permanent. It was hard to think that some of those relationships were already shifting, but I knew it was possible when he told me that he was telling people about what we were doing. It’s still an emotional hit though.
Going to the park with B and C (getting out in nature, and a good walk) and the snowball fight C’s daughter and I had the following week were probably the most relaxed I was when I was there, even though my muscles yelled at me the next day (totally worth it!).
By Tuesday the 8th of December, I had one interview (that I declined to go back for a follow up for, because it was a sales position that relied on commission, which I found out only in the first interview or I wouldn’t have gone to the first interview, and I needed a steady paycheck figure I could rely on when applying for apartments), and by the 11th, I had an interview with a group for a volunteer position. I have been wanting to get into advocacy of some kind, and this was with a sexual assault center. If I did volunteer (as I found out when I asked), I might be able to segue that into a job. I was pretty excited about that, but kept applying to other jobs because the volunteer to paid, if it happened, could take as long as a year (or more).
Along with this, I was getting a few hours here and there with an attorney I work with doing research. It wasn’t much, but I knew that whatever hours I worked would help toward an apartment or other costs.
I need to make a brief correction here. I said at the end of post 2 that Lisie, one of my birds, died on the 11th. I had forgotten that my photo album had glitched at one point, and put wrong dates on photos. I went back to verify the date recently, and realized that Lisie died on the 14th. That is only relevant because a lot happened in that timeframe, and I wanted to be clear on the order of events.
Why am I mentioning all of this when I should be talking about my relationship with C? It’s relevant. But, I also mention it because I’m trying to set the scene for the interactions we had.
Between the puppy keeping the birds on edge, and me spending time with the family while the puppy was awake (and running around in the living room area, which kept the birds wound up), my time to look for jobs and work the part time one I did have was during the day until around 3ish (although sometimes that was later, sometimes sooner), and then after midnight after B and C went to bed. I would usually stay up and work on more job applications, or use that time to look for apartments, do research, or catch up with A or friends. Along with this, my phone was losing charge often, so I kept my phone on a charger downstairs so that I could have it available at night, so I wasn’t even able to use my phone to do some of that catching up. It all had to happen later (or during the day before I went upstairs).
I knew that I wasn’t sleeping much, with some nights getting no sleep at all, but I didn’t realize until I recently went back and looked at notes to friends, etc. that I was not sleeping a lot more than I’d thought. It may be one reason why I started getting more migraines, but the stress alone could have done that.
I usually fell asleep between 2 and 3 am (if I slept). B often got up by 4/4:30, and he would let the puppy out, which meant that the puppy would then come back in and start playing with toys. Between hearing the footsteps overhead, the dog running, toys banging, I would often wake up a bit, then fall back asleep until my alarm at 6:30. I was struggling to get it all done, but I knew I had a deadline that I was working toward so I couldn’t let up much. Even on weekends, before I could hear the family up and moving in the main area, I would often do more job searches and save them for the following week to apply to.
My third week there, I got the news that my father-in-law’s health was much worse than expected, and I was trying to talk more with A, when I could, about how that was impacting him. It wasn’t just me that had a difficult relationship with my father-in-law, and I knew that his father’s declining health could bring up some of those past memories for A. But, since he was busy at work, and I was mostly unavailable until midnight-ish, it was still less than we had been used to talking, and that was impacting both of us, because no matter how our marriage ended up we both were still friends first and foremost. I still loved him and wanted to be sure he was as okay as possible, despite the circumstances.
For the most part, C and I interacted when I was upstairs with the family. Despite her asking me to spend more time upstairs per B’s request, when she was at work I was less inclined to do so because I needed to focus to look fofill out applications (it was easier for me to do my part-time research upstairs than it was to do the job searches), and I also struggled to be around B due to his comments and attitude. I was also starting to notice that any time she and I hugged before she went to work, or if she offered me a hug in general, if B was in the room he would watch. I don’t think he meant anything by it, and for most people it may seem like nothing, but having already been triggered by him (and not fully knowing how at the time, understanding that came much later), knowing that he was watching made me feel even more like I had to be so very careful to not make him think I was disrespecting him and/or his house (and that was simply easier through minimizing my interactions until I had to be in the common spaces when everyone was around) or let C lead the way in interactions she and I had.
The weekend of December 12/13 was a point of note in several ways.
Saturday, B stated that we all needed to clean the house after several weeks of disarray. I was given the room the birds were in to clean and the basement bathroom, and everyone else was given their respective areas. To start things off, C put on a music list, and we all began to clean. I had been changing the cage papers at the beginning of every week (I didn’t do it more often because I was trying to keep the birds as uninterrupted as possible), and every night before going to bed I swept that room's floor (which I had to do on my hands and knees because I couldn’t get a broom or vacuum around the other things in that space), but I know that birds can create a lot of dander, so I made a point to pull anything I could away from walls, and wipe the walls as much as I could, cleaned each blind slat, cleaned the windows, and pulled up the air duct vent covers and cleaned as far as I could in the air ducts. At one point (C was upstairs cleaning and the kids were away, working in the areas they were supposed to be in), B was in the main living room area and I was in the other room. The music that had been playing (C’s list) was still going, and out of the blue B started complaining about the music. “What is this? What kind of music is this?!?” By that point, I had learned that he complained like a dripping faucet (lights, kids, money, things), but here he was complaining about the music his wife put on. I sat there thinking to myself, how weird it was that a grown man, who knew it was his wife’s music playing, would be so petulant about it. It was vocal, insistent, and annoying enough (he even came to the doorway of the room I was working on and asked the question in a way that almost felt like he was asking me why I had put the music on, which was so weird to me because we both knew it was his wife’s music) that I found myself gritting my teeth while trying to clean, and it made me think even more that perhaps the relationship that had been presented as solid between B and C was not such. It was also notable that when C came back downstairs, the complaining stopped. That then made me wonder if he was trying to needle me because the music had some songs she and I had connected over (and did he know that?), or if there was more involved in his (perhaps unexamined or deliberate) complaining. Either way, I was glad to escape to downstairs and clean the bathroom I was using (which I was also doing often, but getting away to clean the bathroom was worth the peace).
That evening, we adults went out to eat and came back to drama at the house, with the end result being that B was annoyed enough to tell the kids that if they didn’t go to bed, he was going to spank them both. I mention that only because it may be relevant to how the next day went.
Sunday morning, C and I sat at the kitchen table talking about many things (patriarchy, our upbringings, etc.) while the kids occupied themselves with games and B came and went into the area off and on or played video games. At one point, C was talking about an insecurity of hers, and she said, “I can see that you are feeling sorry for me.” I replied with how I was feeling, which was that I was not feeling sorry for her, rather I was feeling for all of us who have ever dealt with that insecurity and wishing I could hug us all. It’s not fun to feel insecure about our bodies, and I know the damage it can create inside, and it often makes me wish I could hug the world and put all of our pieces back together. I tried to express that to her. Her response indicated that she wasn’t sure if she believed me, but I let it go.
That afternoon C and I went downstairs to the basement to wrap Christmas presents. That gave us a chunk of uninterrupted time to talk. There, I shared some articles A had sent me regarding Twin Flames and Microcheating, because I was baffled by his comments. Was it a retroactive response on his part? I didn’t know. (I have asked myself since then if that was one thing that she used later on against me.)
In that ongoing conversation as we wrapped presents, she asked me if I felt she was the same in person as she presented herself online. I paused a second, then said yes. There were things that I was not sure about, and so not having definitive “You are/are not like what you presented,” I could only default to yes, but I did have some reservations because there were some inconsistencies that I had chalked up to the situation being as complex as it was.
As the conversation progressed, she mentioned how she was jealous of my catalyst. When I asked why, she said that it was because my catalyst and I were able to go to Pride together the year before, and had spent time together. I didn’t say it, but I sat there thinking, “Why be jealous of someone who hasn’t come close to experiencing what you and I are talking about having between us?” It gave me a moment of, “Huh?” but I let it go, because I figured that if it was something to actually deal with (she and I had talked, months prior, extensively about communication, and how important it is to have that in a relationship, about boundaries, about kindness), we could address it after all the commotion of me being at their place had died down.
Later in the conversation, she also mentioned that she was concerned that once I got on my feet, I would no longer be interested in her and would want to date other women. Considering I had given her no reason to feel that way (I was there, in her house, discussing relationship stuff with her and the possibility of a future together), it made me wonder where that was coming from (especially also because she knew how difficult and challenging my marriage had been, and yet I had been faithful, so why would that change simply because I was with a woman). As A points out, I am not only stubborn, but I am (as he says) “steadfast” and extremely loyal (to my own detriment, at times).
As the conversation continued, we started talking about the types of women we are attracted to. She told me what she was attracted to, and then asked me what my type was. I answered simply, “You.” Which was true, because she not only presented as butch/futch (butch is an automatic attention grab from me, and while I do appreciate the whole scale from femme to butch, I appreciated her esthetic), but she also matched the intellect and interests and so much that made her appealing to me. She didn’t really reply to that, and the conversation kept going.
At one point, she started talking about a friend of hers that she found attractive, and then said something along the lines of that she hoped it wouldn’t hurt my feelings, but that if she could ever have sex with that friend she would. It set me back a second, but I replied that I know couples who navigate such things and talk about/through them without it being an issue.
Let me point out here that it wasn’t that she made that comment, it was how she said it. When she made the comment that her friend wore very pretty bras, her eyes lit up and sparkled in a way that I had never seen them sparkle when she spoke with me. That was…a revelation, for sure. I also realized that although she had made references to exclusivity with me (along with her husband) prior, that clearly either she had changed her mind or something had shifted.
It was disorienting to be told that she expected that I might want to explore later and that it bothered her, while in the same conversation I was being told, without any equivocation or sense of irony, that she expected to be able to explore other women if she got the chance. It was there that I began to wonder if some of my concerns about being a third wheel, again, in a romantic relationship were not just fears but reality. I do not expect to be the be-all/end-all for someone. We are humans with varying needs and wants, and I do recognize this. I am not everything, nor can I even pretend to myself that I am. But, I spent years having to take second (or third or fifth) place in my marriage (it is something he and I have discussed extensively through the years), and it was a hard hit to my heart to realize that I was with someone who seemed to expect me to put her first, but was setting my expectations for her to not do the same fowith me.
The afternoon wore on and we kept wrapping presents, and then there was a commotion because her son was angry about something, then B was clearly angry about something. After the presents were finished and she went upstairs, I could hear the murmur of C and B’s voice and then she came back down to explain that B had been upset because he wasn’t sure what dinner plans would be since she and I had spent all day together. She was trying to explain why B had angrily left the house to go for a walk (and find their son), and that things were smoothed out again. Meanwhile, I was still trying to process not just the emotional load of B being angry and expressing that, but also what she and I had talked about.
Because of how the day had gone, I’d kept the birds covered, in part because I had noticed Lisie going downhill (and planned to call the vet the next morning when offices were open) and I wanted to minimize issues for them while I was downstairs that afternoon. I was worried about Lisie, bothered by how the weekend had gone, dealing with stress from A (regarding his job and his father), and the conversation with C was an additional stress.
In the morning, I went upstairs to check on the birds, and Lisie had died during the night. It took time to call and connect with a vet who could do a necropsy that day, and when C came home for lunch I told her that I would need to take Lisie to the vet for a necropsy and I would not be back until later. C hugged me, and then I left.
The drive to and from the vet was over 3 hours, and I ended up grabbing dinner on my own and then drove out to a lake to sit there for a while. Grieving. Stunned. Wondering what mess I had truly gotten myself into. It was challenging being there, and I knew it would be, but the emotional weight was getting heavier and heavier. Trying to navigate all of this was a lot. I didn’t have my therapist to help me navigate this, just the therapy books I was trying to work through that my therapist recommended, and the marriage counselor A and I were seeing during this time via teletherapy.
Because I do believe in communication, as C and I had talked about, I addressed the only thing I could think about regarding the weekend, which was that I could at least find out from C what her thoughts were. I sent her a message saying that it seemed that I was not her type, and that I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. (Because of how time ran together, I can’t remember if I did it that night, or the next morning while she was at work.)
She replied back with, “Please don’t think I find you unattractive,” then pointed out how I was missing the forest for the trees (or only seeing the trees and not the forest, or something along those lines). Because she often presented herself as being a stickler for honesty, the first thought I had was saying, “I don’t find you unattractive,” is definitely not the same as saying, “I find you attractive.” Was her “honesty” code so strong that she can’t even admit that she didn’t find me attractive? (I do realize trauma does hardwire our brains for negativity so that was probably in play in my reaction, and yet, this was supposed to be someone who said she loved me and wanted to be with me, but did she really?)
Let me point out here (again) that I know I’m not beautiful, but because of the experience I had with my husband for years, I at least want to feel somewhat desirable or desired by the person I am in a relationship with. I certainly don’t want to feel as though the person I am thinking about being intimate with would rather do so with a bag over my head (or over my body). Candidly, that is where my catalyst had the edge: she made it clear that she wanted me. My catalyst had made me feel desirable, and I thought I would have that with C. To find out that was possibly not the case? It hurt.
When C got home from work the day after Lisie died, she asked if she could come downstairs and we talked about her response to me a little bit. Her daughter came down, and C explained to her that C had hurt my feelings and we were smoothing it over. It helped a little, but my heart…yeah that was hurting. For multiple reasons.
At some point, I messaged a friend to ask for their take on the comment that had been made (someone who knew about the situation with C and me, and who is also gay), and I asked if I was out of line for feeling hurt. My friend replied that, no it wasn’t out of line for me to be hurt, and that it did sound like somehow something had shifted in C, or between C and B, or something, but she agreed with me that this whole thing was feeling more convoluted. We both felt that either C wasn’t telling me the whole story of what was going on with her, or that something else was off, but we couldn’t figure out where/how.
I’d known that the situation with C might not go well, but I’d at least expected her to communicate with me if her feelings changed. One thing my trauma therapist had been working with me on was not catastrophizing, so I resolved to go back to what I had been doing: applying to jobs, looking for apartments, and let the rest fall as it would. But I admit, her comment, on top of navigating around her husband, dealing with my own, trying to find a job and an apartment was...not easy, and I really wasn't sure where it all would land.
This is a decent stopping point (thanks to Reddit’s character limit), so I’ll pick up with Part 3b next week.
How To Set The Date and Time On a Rolex Datejust Bob's ...
- RickRoll'D - YouTube
- CollegeHumor - YouTube
- GameTrailers - YouTube
- Results - YouTube
Checkout DROPOUT: https://signup.dropout.tv It's our new ad-free, uncensored, subscription video service! The cast you love in brand new, exclusive series! Original and funny videos from ... https://www.facebook.com/rickroll548Reddit AMA: https://www.reddit.com/r/IAmA/comments/mx53y/i_am_youtube_user_cotter548_aka_the_inventor_of/As long as troll... We would like to show you a description here but the site won’t allow us. IGN’s home for the latest game trailers, including new gameplay, cinematics, announcements, and reveals. Subscribe to stay up to date and get notified when new trailers arrive, that includes ...
[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ]