~First~
(Writing, writing, writing: Muse crashes, burns and refuses to respond. Great.)
The Buzz on the Spin
“That’s the third time the call was dropped.” Hoagie states the obvious.
“From what I can tell they’re being hacked like it’s the latest fad. Even if our call goes through clean it’s going to be seen by an audience of several billion at least.” Demon replies. His tiny little girl is sitting on his shoulder so everyone’s watching their language, even Zsebreza. Sure, Kathy was growing quick and was developing a good sense of humour, but not even Minisi wanted to be responsible for teaching her the naughty words.
It takes several more tries with the bridge crew chuckling at things before suddenly the link is accepted to find a thoroughly unamused Asian Man glaring at them. The man then lets out a breath. “Two hundred and eighty six separate calls with the image of a woman presenting herself. I have never been simultaneously flattered and insulted.”
“Spoiled for choice sir?” Demon asks.
There is a moment of a pause as the man’s eyebrow quirks in frustration. “Yes.”
“I’m afraid it’s a common issue the galaxy over sir, we humans are hot commodity. Even a hideous slob of a man would find himself inundated with attention. A competent man with goals, ideals and motivation? A feast before the starving sir.” Hoagie says.
“Clearly Officer Eastman.” He says before relaxing a little. “I am Observer Wu. I have been charged by the nations of Earth with baring impartial witness to what has occurred the galaxy over. I have already spoken to several pockets of humanity, including but not limited to three other space stations, the newly risen nobility of Vucsa and of course, The Dauntless and the Embassy on Centris.”
“So what are you looking for? We’ve sent back numerous eyewitness testimonies and as much in the way of resources and proof of our claims that can survive the damaging effects of Cruel Space. A fair portion of exotic material and cadavers were actually supplied from this very station. What more do you need?”
“I just wish to speak with people. I will be communicating with and travelling to every major locations where humans have touched in the galaxy. To see the truth of things with unclouded eyes.” Observer Wu says and there are some nods. “Now then, if you could describe your location and posting please?”
“Certainly, we’ll do that in reverse though if you don’t mind.”
“I do not.”
“We are posted here to both ensure that we have friendly contacts in an area of interest and to learn more about the galaxy at large. Between ourselves and our fellows posted at other stations we are writing the operations manual for how to maintain, police, administrate, protect and supply a fully functional space station with a substantial permanent population. We’re also recruiting and keeping our eyes out for unusual technologies, tactics and techniques. This station alone contains a permanent population that rivals several first world nations on Earth with an industrial capacity well beyond what those nations can provide.”
“Can it now? This station is self sustaining? Food, air and other such supplies?”
“It turns out that a great deal of air is released by harvesting asteroids. Most of them contain a large amount of ice, even when they’re primarily minerals of some kind. Food is grown in hydroponics on such a scale we outright export it. The mining provides the metals and other materials for further products and again, hydroponics of a different source give us oils which leads to plastics, cloth comes in too. The station is completely self sustaining at this point. If the rest of the galaxy was to vanish then all we need are some rocks and we can keep this place going forever.” Demon explains and Observer Wu nods.
“And have you learned about these techniques and technologies?”
“Yes, however many of them are reliant upon Axiom.”
“And the control of the station?” He asks and Minisi pokes at a few of them with her tentacles to get people to shift away. “And you are... the woman in charge I believe?”
“Indeed. Although not for too much longer. I’ve had my fun but the station has become a tedium. I will admit that your species showing up has broken up the monotony a touch, but only enough to give me enough time to really make sure my heiress has this place on lock and with an unmatched command crew.”
“And you’re fine with them having that level of power?” Observer Wu asks and Minisi has a tentacle point right down at Hoagie.
“This one has been in charge of over ten percent of my station. The most productive Agriculture Decks we have are in his power, both officially and unofficially. The businesswomen there fear the flamingo shirts!”
“Hey, I got flowers on at least half of them.” Hoagie protests and she turns to him.
“Hey hey hey! Station boss or not, no horning on my hubby!” Zsebreza says buzzing into view and pressing back on the woman who leans back in amusement.
“You Charbis are so easy to rile up...” She says fondly as Zsebreza sheathes her weapon while still giving her a massive stinkeye.
“So that video was not an elaborate prank in horrific taste.” Observer Wu notes.
“Reality is stranger than fiction sir.” Hoagie notes.
“Indeed it is, and now that you’ve confused me, I am going to return the favour.” Observer Wu states and Hoagie looks from side to side and everyone else is equally baffled.
“Sir?” Hoagie asks as Observer Wu presses a button on his armrest and requests for a certain passenger to be sent up. “What is this...”
He freezes entirely as the camera shifts and he can see... “Mom?”
“Daniel!” Janet Eastman says with a smile. “And... one of those... things that got you.”
“I told you we needed to edit that video.” Zsebreza says.
“But it would clearly have been faked in some way and...” Hoagie trails off. “I... are you alright? The way out of Cruel Space is no fun.”
“It.. it was not pleasant, but I worked in the kitchens for most of it and it kept me busy.” She says.
“Familiar territory then.”
“A starship mess hall is NOTHING like a Corner Bistro in New York.” Janet says and he chuckles.
“Are you sure you’re alright? I mean... the rail shot into orbit, the initial training...”
“I’m part of the civilian experiment. To see how easy or hard it is to get people out of our little corner of the galaxy.”
“And the verdict Miss Hoagie’s mother?” Minisi asks in an amused tone.
“Something needs to be done about the zero-gravity trip. It’s too much. I’ve needed some chemical help to stay calm during parts of the trip.”
“Yeah, it’s not much better when you’re trained for it.” Hoagie says. “Are you coming here?”
“Of course! Those videos were horrifying! If those girls are walking all over you like that then I don’t care if I’m numbered two hundred to one or two thousand to one! I didn’t work my butt off as a waitress when you were a little boy just to see a bunch of bees walk all over you! So I’m putting you on notice!” She growls out.
“Okay lady, I’m giving you the private number, because I love that attitude. And because we need to get ahead of this before there’s a war kicked off.” Zsebreza promises.
“There is no war that’s going to kick off. Mother, Charbis are a very defensive species and refuse to let people see their relaxed state unless they have absolute trust. No exceptions. That’s why you’ve never seen them in anything less than one of their most agitated states. When not safely in the hive a Charbis is only a few moments away from violence.”
“Is the hive like a beehive?”
“It’s not made of waxy hexagons. It’s a bunker with innumerable defences and very comfortable on the inside. They’re so reinforced and secure that it’s the most defensive part on the station barring the other Hives.”
“Hey, you’re really pushing it...”
“I haven’t said anything secret. I haven’t shown anything secret. Anyone with working eyes can see a Hive is nearly impossible to attack if they want to live, and with how wealthy and good with crops Charbis are in general, any idiot can figure out that they have plenty within the hive.”
“Well... yes, but the idea that anyone has any idea what the hives are like...” Zsebreza says and then Janet’s eyes widen as she realizes exactly what she’s seeing.
“Oh! It’s like THAT! No wonder you haven’t bothered running. It’s not too different from home was it?”
“Tough on the outside, everything you want inside? Pretty much.” Hoagie says and a very relieved Janet lets out a sigh of relief.
“Good. I’m still coming over though.”
“But, what about back home? Aren’t you?”
“Daniel. It’s okay. The old building was... well it was soon to be decommissioned anyway.”
“Oh... and I suppose the little place out back...”
“Gone too.” Janet says.
“I see.” Hoagie says.
“Are you alright?” Zsebreza asks and he nods.
“Yeah it just... the place I grew up is gone. Even if there was a way back to Earth, a true way, then I still couldn’t got home again.”
“Everyone leaves home eventually. Not everyone can go back.” Janet says. “Still. Don’t think you’re keeping me away, just because I’ve gotten an idea about you young lady. I’m coming to make sure you’re treating my little boy right. If this is a woman’s galaxy, then this woman is making sure her boy is with the best in the galaxy. Understand me?!”
“Mom!”
“Daniel.” She says even as he gives one of his fellows a dirty look when they snort. They put their hands up and back away. “So fierce young man. Now...”
•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•
He simply watches the video feed as mother and son speak. Trying to get a grip on the body language of the alien creatures. There’s a great deal of play and movement around the Charbis Bee woman, the ears are a massive tell on the Ikiya-Mas girl and the Mnenmi seemed utterly passive, in control. The men seemed either comfortable or excited and things seemed to be matching up.
Of course Mother Eastman was an open book to his practised eye, worried, putting on a brave front but the kind of woman who had given up her life to raise a child properly and was now chasing him out of not only maternal duty, but a sense of emptiness now that her great struggle was finished.
He knew her story. A sad tale of how to people, neither with families, had found each other and then shortly as life seemed to be picking up for the happy ending, an accident had taken the father, leaving a single mother to mourn and raise a child alone. A woman with no really marketable skills beyond being a woman and having a sympathetic story. She had been hired and remained hired at a moderately successful Bistro for over a decade, even being held on because she had a teenage son at home working a part time to help out.
Sad story, but one that had given her and the boy spines of steel. Still, open book regardless and...
His communicator goes off and he checks it. It is a text from an unknown number.
-Enjoying the show? ~Minisi
His eyebrows climb up a little and he reconsiders his thoughts on the octopus alien. She’s clearly very aware of things, and likely has the implants required to communicate without being obvious. Or he’s looking at a body double. Either way, she’s tipped her hand for... some reason. Which is bothering him. Why did she reveal this?
There is no way to determine without further interaction. So he replies with a simple yes.
-Good, a voyeur who doesn’t even enjoy the show is just a bore.
Is she just mocking him? This seems to be more mockery than anything. So he asks a simple question.
-Why does it matter?
-It doesn’t. You’re a prickly one aren’t you?
-Yes, I am. Is there an issue?
-Not at all.
Well that’s not useful. Is she just poking him for entertainment? She still hasn’t moved at all beyond basic shows of amusement as mother and son make plans to get her to the station and the Charbis daughter in law is putting on a clearly fake show of protesting having the woman be brought into the hive.
A hand falls onto his shoulder and he jumps in his seat a little before turning to see a smiling, but old and withered face. “Can I help you?”
“I was just wondering if I could make use of the communication relays next. As entertaining as the last few months were, I do think I should give a proper warning to my approach. If only to see how the boy responds.”
“Do you think he will respond poorly?”
“Only if he’s changed far more than I’d expect. But who knows? The mystery is half the fun of life now, isn’t it?” The elderly man says. Observer Wu considers for a few moments. This man had broken into his personal office without setting off an alarm, without alerting the guards and all the while needing a cane and with his joints audibly creaking.
“If you tell me how you broke in Mister Koga, then I think I can accommodate you.”
“Oh that? Easy enough, follow me lad, I’ll show you where you need a few more eyes. Or lasers! Lasers are always fun. Not as much as a guard dog, but having a poor inu in the vents is just cruel no matter how much you dislike chihuahuas.”
“That was rather specific.”
“I was suppose it was wasn’t it? Anyways, this way young man.”
~First~ Last

So here we are, on the last page. Indulge my ramblings.
It's been one hell of a ride, managing to devour the ten big books in what is a little over a year I think at this point. To say it took me for a ride is an understatement. I haven't been invested in an actual book series for a while now, few standalone novels here and there, but nothing like this.
I don't think I posted my detailed thought on DoD, perhaps it was for the best. Because I truly see it as but a half of a book. While in the past some malazan books picked up right after others, DG and MOI continue directly after GoTM, HOC continues on to DG. It was never with such immediacy. TCG starting second after DoD, heck starting before its end, because we see Cotillion take hold of Lostara.
I had gotten used to a certain pace within these books. Book 1 would be a sort of overture, we see new characters, we see old characters, a cast is assembled. Book 2 expands on the main plot of the book, what will this all be about, plans are set in motion. Book 3, the plans mature, we see a convergance on the horizon. Book 4, we get a convergance. The roller coaster has reached the highest point and goes into free fall.
DoD essentially gets us to the end of Book 2, a midway finale, we have met all the players, we know what the plan is. We are moving towards it.
It was a hard read, because the cast was just overflowing. Usually I praise SE for those small scenes, of the soldiers shooting the shit as they march, between fights and all that. I still like them, but was getting overwhelmed with just how many we were getting. I had to take out my notebook again to keep track of the squads and command structure.
It is a bit of a blur compared to TCG, kalyth, the snake, the shake, the ghosts, tool, toc, torrent, trade guild, grey helms, queen abastral, her daughter, tavore, ublala etc.
The snake being the most jarring and confusing element, it took by far the longest to get used to it and wrap my brain around it properly. Similar to the ghosts.
What left me the most angry and annoyed was olar ethils meddling between Toc and Tool. There are plenty of hateable and evil bastards in the series, individuals it is fun to hate. Olar was not one, she felt like a nuissance. Toc and Tool not getting an ounce of bloody mercy left me very jaded. But I will get into more on that later.
I think I will just jump to TCG.
I did not know what to expect as an ending. I have been disappointed plenty of times. It is no small feat to cap off 14 000 pages of such a rich, complicated and elaborate world. I had no illusion that everything will be neat and tidy, a happily ever after. This not that kind of story.
Steven Erickson did do the series justice. That is the best way I think I can phrase it. It was not what I expected, it was not what I wanted for some characters. But I cannot disagree or see it ending other way.
Those who have followed my rantings while reading will know of my disagreement witht the idea "THE STORY IS ABOUT HOPE". Considering the amount of failure, misery, cruelty and a whole lot more the story dumps on to some characters. My opinion has changed, not fully, but it has. It was not due to the final scene with them defending with the crippled god. It was due to Torrent.
I was so invested in him. He felt so human so mortal, yet despite it all. He kept going. That moment when Olar confronts the guild, mappo and the rest, when they all stand uselessly pissing themselves as she demands the kids. Torrent is the only one to stand up, to go with her. I truly lost a lot of respect for Mappo then.
We don't know what happens to Torrent. He gets the killshot on the witch bitch, then falls down a fissure. I read that line, hoping that he survives. Until someone says otherwise I will keep hoping.
Another character is Cotillion, the most human god of all. I can hardly recognise him from the start of GOTM.....
TCG felt to me what "Return of the king" felt to some of my friends. From the andii kneeling to the shake in respect for holding out, to Korlat and WJ. "And wait he will", that had me straight up bawling for several minutes
Regarding our favourite Trell...when he met with Calm, I knew how it would end. From how clumsily he handled himself to the exhaustion, he never stood a chance. Ublala could have never arrived on time, for he was meant to take up that torch, like so many before him. "I remembered something", there is that feeling again. Hope.
Tavore...tavore....how far she has come.
I hated her, I hated her so much. From DG all the way to TBH. All the politics, betrayal and bullshit leaving me expecting she was just like Surly or Rel. Boy was I wrong. "I lost her", of all the things expected, it was not that. It all came crashing down with just those three words when she met Ganoes. All her weight, all she did. It made sense.
Yedan's last stand and death hurt, but in the same way Rake's did. It was not in vain, they both died for the cause they believed in. They won.
Now.....tool, toc and hetan. This is going to be controversial. I was aware of something bad happening in DoD, that much was hinted by several sources. It was horrific, but didn't have the same impact some of past horrors did. I find it hard to explain, but what made it worse was....her coming back like nothing happened.
I might be reading it in the wrong way. Ressurection in any fantasy series is a dangerous can of worms, the moment an author uses it, he has to start making up excuses for why it cannot be done every time. Malazan handled it by showing just how nasty the cost is. Rhulad being driven more insane every time he came back, escapees from Hood's realm looking like zombies etc.. Even Hedge reuniting with Fiddler, it is endlessly fraught and warped their relationship.
I like that Tool got a happy ending, but her just coming back like that. It felt cheap and made me resent we couldn't get other characters back the same way. The whole Tool and Toc thing just got me angry and not in a fun way.
I could go on and on, but I needed to get this lot off my chest first.
This series changed me and the way I appreciate stories/characters. There is not a single person in malazan you can point to who is fully good or evil (except the liosan and assail, fuccccccckkkkkkkk them). Humans are messy, despite the best of intent, the world will not let us be good, nor is it easy to be good. We do stuff that seemingly contradicts what we stand for, what we value, knowing the immediate pain it will cause, but holding out hope it will be worth it in the long run.
I am far from done with Malazan. Novels of the malazan empire are next on my reading list. But I will be taking a bit of a break to reset. There is a real danger of getting fatigued with the series, the worst hitting right during DoD.
So yeah....cool book series...

Hey, all!
We have a 1.5 years-old boy who we started potty training very early, as soon as he was able to sit comfortably, he was around 6 months-old. We sort of guessed when he would go, right after sleep, after eating and so on. The first couple of months successes were pure luck and anticipation on our side, rather than him actually knowing what's going on. But by the time he was a 1 year-old he did his thing almost every time we put him on the potty, either number 1 or number 2, but rarely left an empty potty. At about 1 year, 3 months-old he started to tap his chest well he wants to go potty - there were actually full days with 0 accidents in the diaper! We were so close! That period was about 2 months.
Fast-forward to the past month. We have changed absolutely nothing about the routine we followed, but he simply doesn't say he wants to go anymore. He only informs us (the same way, with a tap on his chest) when he already did in the diaper. We would put him on the potty, sit with him for upwards of 30minutes, he would play, stand, come back, most of the times pee as well, but no pooping. Right after we put his diaper on and dress him up, he bloody poops himself! I haven't seen a poop in the potty for nearly 2 weeks and he used to go there at least twice a day religiously.
So, is this a phase? Are we doing something wrong? Will it pass or we should change something? I'm sure you'll think he's too young to understand what's going on, but I assure you this is not the case. He perfectly understands it, and as far as I can tell is doing it on purpose.
We're certainly not giving up or slowing down with the potty training, but every bit of advice would be greatly appreciated!
P.S. I forgot to mention that accidents only happen when we're at home. He hasn't pooped in the diaper while we're outside in forever, I think it last happened 6 months ago, because we were outside for too long. So he definitely knows how to contain himself.

Sneaking into supposedly haunted building late at night always sounded like a laugh, but I don't think so anymore.
​
My town has this old mill. There used to be a lot of farmland around here, and the mill was practically the lifeblood of the town. You wouldn't know it to look at the place now. The soil surrounding us for a good couple of miles out is dry as bone with nothing growing out of it, and the mill looks like it's falling apart. Which apparently it has been since even before it closed down a few decades ago since a series of accidents is said to have been what finally pulled the plug on the old place—accidents where people died.
​
Which is where all the ghost stories come from, which in turn are what led to my late-night venture into a building that looked like it would fall on top of me any moment if I brushed the wrong bit of wall. It was dumb, and the one or two friends I'd told of my plan thought I was going to get myself killed. In hindsight, they were right. But then, hindsight is 20/20, right?
​
The door was easy enough to force. I had the torch function on my mobile phone switched on, and I saw that the wooden door was barely there anymore. Once it was open, I was hit by a cloud of dust so thick that I nearly choked on it. I couldn't believe I was the first one to try exploring the mill since it closed down, but that's what the air was telling me as I stepped inside.
​
Most of it was wood just like the outside. Decades-old wooden pillars held up the ceiling, above which had to be more machinery like what I saw in this downstairs room. I won't pretend to know what any of it does, but it was rusted with age and far past its ability to perform its function. It looked heavy, though, and I immediately feared the prospect of the ceiling crashing down upon me. But, I reasoned, if it were going to do that, this place would have collapsed years ago, wouldn't it?
​
The thought calmed me slightly but not much. After all, it would have to fall eventually.
​
I was about to climb the stairs, satisfied that nothing was left to see on the ground floor, when the whisper reached me.
​
"Help."
​
I spun around, startled, to see absolutely nobody. The room was still as empty as it had been when I broke the door open. My heart raced in my chest from the start the voice had given me. "Is that someone mucking about?" I asked.
​
There was no answer.
​
I took some slow, deep breaths to calm myself down. Just my mind playing tricks on me, I thought. This place being spooky is the whole reason you came here.
​
Satisfied that I was alone and that the voice had been nothing more than an illusion produced by my own mind's reaction to the darkness around me, I continued on up the stairs. Each one creaked as I planted a foot upon it, and I had visions of the flimsy wood breaking beneath my weight. At least I wouldn't have far to fall.
​
I was right about there being more machinery on the floor above, although I still couldn't tell you what any of it was for. Well, I knew logically that it was for the process of making grain, but you know what I mean. I pointed the torch at it and saw that it was just as rusty as what was downstairs. I sighed. Nothing here but rust and dust. Not that I was expecting to find any ghosts or anything, but I was hoping for something marginally more interesting than old machinery and drifting flakes of crumbling wood.
​
One of the shadows to my left moved, and I bloody near toppled onto my ass, yelling.
​
My heart hammered away its rhythm at a quickened pace, and I pointed my light toward the area of the movement. Nothing. Just more old wood.
​
I was alone, but I was certain that something had moved in here.
​
"First your ears, now your eyes," I said to myself shakily, trying to make a joke of it. "This dark's making you lose your marbles. You're the only one here."
​
Only ... I found that I didn't believe that anymore.
​
I can't tell you what it was, but I just had an overwhelming feeling that I was no longer alone. I felt like a deer in a clearing who's just begun to suspect a tiger is watching me from the bushes. I could feel my legs tensing, preparing myself to run for the stairs.
​
I stood there for what felt like an hour but was in actuality only a couple of minutes. I breathed to calm myself down again and decided that I really wasn't in the right headspace for this. I was too nervous. Too ... scared. Prey instincts I didn't even know I had were kicking in, and that couldn't be healthy. I decided to leave.
​
I walked down the stairs, each step toward the front door coming as a relief.
​
Then I saw it.
​
A door. A door I knew hadn't been there when I'd entered the building. I remember sweeping my torch all over the room, and at no point had I seen that door in its light.
​
"Down here. Help."
​
It was the same voice as before, whispering in my ear so closely that I should have felt their breath on my lobe. But I felt nothing of the sort. A chill ran up my spine. Fuck this, I thought, and turned to charge at the exit.
​
It was gone.
​
Where once there was the front door, which I had broken open to gain entry in the first place, there was now only more wooden wall.
​
I could bring myself to do nothing but stand and stare for a few minutes. It wasn't possible. The door was there, I knew it was! How could it be gone? What was happening? A scream of primal fear ripped its way out of my throat, and I charged at the wooden wall. The wood was flimsy-looking and rotted and should have broken easily, but with every punch I succeeded only in making my fists ache, and with every kick all I made was noise. Noise which reached nobody but myself.
​
Tears of terror and frustration ran down my cheeks in rivers, and I bit my hand to keep from loudly sobbing. I was trapped.
​
My legs buckled beneath me as the truth of my situation finally became clear, and I sat on the dusty wooden floors, my back against the infuriatingly sturdy wooden wall, and I held my head in my hand. What do I do?
​
I must have sat there for hours.
​
The sun didn't rise. No light peaked in through the gaps between the wood planks.
​
"Help," the voice came again. This time it was no whisper, but a call from beyond the new door. "Down here. Help."
​
Well ... what else could I do but listen?
​
I stood up on shaky legs, bracing myself against the wall until I was sure I could stand unaided. Then I made my way over to the new door and gently pushed it open. It made a long, high-pitched creaking noise as it opened to reveal a second staircase—one that led down.
​
I didn't want to go down. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. My only other option was to sit and wait for something to happen, and I thought that might drive me mad.
​
I went down the stairs.
​
Unlike the ones upstairs, these steps didn't creak as I stepped on them. In fact, my footfalls made no sound at all, which if anything was even more unsettling.
​
Yet that was not the most terrifying part. The part that scared me most, the part that got my heart racing so badly that I thought it'd beat its way right out of my chest, was the way the stairs just didn't end.
​
I must have been walking down them for a good ten minutes before the thought occurred to me. My first instinct was to run around and run back up, but somehow I knew that if I did that, I would be running up forever just as I'd be walking down forever. Maybe I was wrong, but I don't think I was.
​
"Keep going," the voice said, whispering from right by my ear once again. "Come down."
​
I could see it now, whatever was speaking to me. Only not really. I didn't see what it looked like, but I saw it there, out of the corner of my eye, walking right next to me on the stairs somehow without ever touching me. Just a dark shape that only superficially resembled a human body—and too many eyes to count, all of them glowing a dull yellow, each one blinking periodically. Its entire body covered in them.
​
I sped up my descent down the stairs. I knew I wouldn't find an end, but I had to get away from whatever it was that was with me. That deeply-buried prey instinct rose in me again, this time to the point of damn near screaming at me to run, run away because the predator was here.
​
But I couldn't get away.
​
No matter how much I picked up speed, it was always there, right by me.
​
"Yes, yes!" it cried in pleasure. There was a sort of slurping sound. "Just like that! Such delicious terror!"
​
I screamed.
​
It laughed.
​
And suddenly, I understood.
​
It was eating me, not in body but in soul. With every second of fear, I could feel myself growing weaker. I felt thinner, less substantial. At some point, I knew, I would stop existing.
​
​
I was scared, and that only fed it more of me.
​
But then I realised something else: there were no walls around the staircase. Just a great expanse of darkness beyond the splintered wooden bannisters on either side.
​
I had a way out.
​
I stopped running down the stairs, turned, and gripped the bannister. Without so much as thinking about the height, I launched myself over the edge.
​
There was a roar of pure rage loud enough to still be ringing in my eardrums now.
​
Then a blinding light.
​
It was the sun.
​
I sat up, and I was outside the mill again. The warmth of the sun felt glorious, and I've never been happier to find myself lying in the grass where all the bugs could crawl all over me.
​
I think I know why the land around our town died.
​
I'm moving soon. I've told everyone else they should do the same, but they aren't listening to me. I hope they come to their senses before it's too late.
​
Because whatever is living in the mill is hungry.
​
How long will it take to leave its habitat and feast properly?
​
I can already hear that voice again.

since you feel the need to question all the people IN THE BACK ...let me put it straight for you (IN CRAYON EATING TERMS). You are equal to a bad car accident.!!! A multiple car pile up WITH fatalities. (BAD ACCIDENT)!!!! We are the people on the highway passing by in the only lane police left open. Each of us having to stare at this awful accident in front of us,because it's so unbelievable and horrific to look at. (BUT WE CAN'T LOOK AWAY). We are fully aware we are causing extreme traffic FOR ALL THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK .... that want to get to the front to see the accident for themselves!!! WE ARE THE RUBBERNECKERS. Never heard of the saying?? google it. you are not famous. Nobody cares who u r . We forget about you once we pass. IF THAT MAKES SENSE!! ( weird lip suck) 😜

I don't really no where to start. I feel I've lost myself, consumed with anxiety and guilt and fear and regret and I fear, this new fear, that it's going to be the end of me if I don't start to get it out in some way, shape or form.
I guess I'll begin at the beginning...
​
I had a difficult childhood with fairly neglectful parents. A mother who openly expressed she never felt she really stepped into her mom shoes until she gave birth to my younger sister, who is three years younger than me. She is my only sibling. My mother told me when I was a kid that she "had to love me", but when my sister came around "she was finally a mother and over the moon", or simply "I always always wanted a girl". I'm not sure if this could be attributed to Post-partum depression, not that she ever researched that or was daignosed with it. That's probably just me trying to pardon my mother or something to the effect. She was 17 when she had me and I'm sure times were different then, my parents both were raised religious, father christian, mother mormon. Maybe their guilt. I ask myself why they brought me into this world if I wasn't wanted to begin with. Or, give me up for adoption to a set of guardians that would have loved me better. I know I was an accident and that's not what gets me down, I get that life be lifing and what happened happened. My difficulties stem from the feeling that my presence never gave my mother any sense of purpose, responsibility or love, or concern. She was emotionally unavailable to me virtually my entire life and I feel like that caused many issues later in my life and how I perceive myself and what I deserve. Coupled with the fact that my neglect met such extremes that I am frankly shocked that I was never picked up by child care services, maybe things were different in the 90's. I'm not sure, I was just a child then.
Much of my upbringing I didn't receive a lot of the things most people would consider essential. As a baby my crib was the sock drawer, then I grew large enough to have a closet, then slept on the floor of a walk-in closet, then I had a single bed from what I recall for maybe a year or maybe two years and I remember feeling metal springs poke me in the my ribs and I recall it being uncomfortable enough for me to move back to sleeping on the floor next to the ratty old used mattress my father found from who knows where. I remember feeling like I had to keep that secret, that the mattress they gave me was uncomfortable enough for me to sneak sleeping on the floor next to it. I think I was really afraid as coming across as ungrateful. My father came from a third world country, so the "gratefullness issue" was address frequently by my mom because "I don't have it even half as bad as what my father had to endure. And she was probably right. But it just silenced me ultimately, didn't put things into a mature context for me. I just learned that I can't complain about anything ever. Anyway, that trend didn't really change when I grew older. grade 9-10 I was sleeping on the living room couch so my sister could have privacy and a bedroom to exist in for herself - which I realize is important for an individual so I encouraged her to have the bedroom. Although I figured my parents expected me to do this for my sister regardless. I was okay with making sacrfices for those I love, it was instilled in me from a very very young age.
I do feel like my father took advantage of me in the form of labour as well, having to do custodial work with my father from 10pm to 3am, at two highschools I believe he was contracted, at that young age I honestly enjoyed just spending time with my father I think, working alongside him. When I was in grade 2 and 3 I had garbage bag duty for all the students bathrooms, and I remember loving snapping the bags open by rushing air into the bag and making it blow up like a baloon. I remember the scary unlit shadowy hallways that I couldn't perceive the ends of. No bodies to see, it felt eerie but exciting in a way - like it was a whole different world.
School was a different experience for me. It was very stressful, my parents had to move a few times a year because they would dodge rent or just generally be selfish with their dual income. They loved to party hard on the weekends. I remember wondering why my father did this to himself all the time. Hoping that we could spend quality time on a saturday, but he wouldnt get out of bed until just before dinner. I didn't really understand hangovers or alcoholism and how it meant our plans would get cancelled. I think I remember trying to wrap my head around willful self-poisoning for entertainment and how could that be more enjoyable then spending time with your son? I couldn't tell my mother why I was so sad about it. Why I didn't want to move again and again and again. Why I found it so difficult to make new friends everytime I had to switch schools. Why I couldn't just do one single full school year with one class of students. It was so hard and at the time, I didn't know anything different. It was so hard to make friends and I think it created this approach to making a "new family" of friends when I became a teenager and young adult.
​
I remember always wanting to be a "good kid". The "best kid" for my parents. I feel like my parents attached this moniker to me that made things harder for me to mature into a rounded adult later in life. My parents always flaunted me as this point of accomplishment, the accomplishment that I was "so extremely well behaved". I would strive to be super polite, and a good host, try to help out when my parents had their friends over, literally fill their cups when the opportunity presented themselves. I think I did this because I must have made the conclusion that if I was quiet, super polite, helpful and useful then I had value. That I could be loved. That I could earn this love from my parents through acts of service.
I remember feeling like my sister and I had extremely different experiences growing up. When my parents were at work I took care of her, cleaned and cooked. one time my sister told my mom to eff off when she was 5 and I was 8. My mind was blown. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she had the bravery and courage to defy my mother. Looking back, my sister was just mirroring the language she learned from my parents from whenever they fought. I remembering seriously worrying and getting scared that my father was going to belt her, or use the coat hanger, which was his preference with me. I feel like my mom was always checked out and I'm hurt that she allowed my father to take his rage out on me. That my mom could care less about me being beat, but never my sibling. It was very confusing and difficult for me to process. Not that I really processed it much as a kid. I honestly just wanted to be loved and be the best child possible. Honestly though, 'm seriously so glad that my sister was spared all of that complete non-sense. I don't wish that on anyone in the world. There were some punishments where he would walk in and tell me to pull my pants down without explanation. I have memories of tearing up and saying I didn't know why this was happening, asking what I did wrong and he would just remind me that if I resisted then I would get it worse and to hurry up and get ready. My father has since apologized. I think it is how he was raised. I didn't know what to say in response, but I told him I loved him and it's in the past. But I don't know if I was being honest when I said that. My mother would still gaslight me to this day if any of this became topic of discussion, not that I'm guessing. A year ago she told me that much of my pained memories were false and this never happened. My father on the other hand typically stays pensive and unchallenging.
It seems so damned crazy writing all of this out, it feels like a heartbreaking novel and not my life at all. But it was and is my life. I have difficulties opening up and expressing my feelings and advocating for myself when the moments are true and appropriate to do so. I know it's the healthier way to communicate, but I was literally taught to stay quiet and be useful. Fast forward 20-25 years and I'm going to be 35 and I feel like just ending it all. Every year my birthday passes and I'll get a text from my family happy birthday. But they know I'm in a difficult place, they know I miss them, they know I love them and forgive them, I try the high road whenever I can but I just don't see the point anymore. they won't celebrate my life and existence, but they'll throw family gatherings for each other, birthdays, christmas, fathers day and mothers day.
On that note, another mother's day has recently passed and my mother never invited me over, I texted my father three weeks in advance in hopes of securing a time to come over and celebrate my mothers life with my family as a family. I felt particularly stung this mother's day when they celebrated and didn't text or call to invite me over. I live in the same small town so it's easy to hop over. I literally live three blocks away.
Anyway, my mother was diagnosed with cancer over christmas this year and I have been worrying for my mother ever since and thinking about my life with her and the mortal coil and the finite mount of time I may have with her. I feel like there is a large empty part in my heart that wishes my mother and I could go grab a coffee together. She can show me her ipad app art that she has been really excited about for a couple years now. She loves showing off her digital art and I love seeing her joy and how proud she is about her art. I just don't know why she couldn't feel the same for me, her only son. Maybe I'm just a her dissapointment.
I dropped out of highschool and left the family home when I was 16. I just couldn't work for my dad during the night AND go to highschool AND socialize. Something had to give. Unfortunately it was highschool and my parents didn't really care about that at all. They were just... fine with it. they supported my sister through college and she was fortunately able to graduate with a veterinary degree of sorts. she still lives with them now as she pays off her student debt, but I left and travelled and worked on music for over a decade so I admit that I was entirely out of the family picture for some time. But as I get older, not wanting to repeat the mistakes of my parents I fear that that is precisely what's been creeping up in my life.
five years ago I met the absolute most wonderful human being and I am so lucky to have my partner in my life. She and I are engaged now and set to be married. I hoped that the news would overwhelm my parents with excitement and joy. Maybe a facebook post about their son, share some family pictures or something. But they did nothing at all. I think they showed off pictures of the trip to Mexico that week instead.
I just don't really understand how I'm this unworthy of their love and unfortunately now I'm realizing that illusion that I am unworthy has infected my relationship with my fiance. I love her so much but when I can't fix everything in her life I feel like I am the failure and the guilt overhelms me so much and the guilt is such a strong motivator for me, and it usually motivates me into becoming the biggest doormat in the world. I've never worked harder for a relationship or invested this much energy. I feel she deserves it. But I don't advocate for myself. So I build up resentment. Like I clean the house constantly and work and help bail out of her bad spending habits and cover her rent without question and this and that. To be clear, she doesn't take advantage of me and that's not how I feel about it. But I do let this annoyance build up inside of me because I don't know how to communicate my feelings in a healthy way. I'm scared I'll lose the person if I speak up, or I'll be gaslit. Again, that's not my partner that gaslights. That's just generally how I feel I'll be treated if I open up with people. It all goes back to my childhood. It's affected every friendship and work relationship I've had since.
When I was 20-ish, 15 years years ago I did the classic, "seek the relationship that most comfortably fits into the patterns you experienced with your parents". And so I trapped myself in a horrific and extremely damaging relationship with a girl I'll call K. She has undiagnosed bipolaBPD, she would never seek help but self-medicate. She ended up in the hospital maybe four times for self-harming and this where she was considered to have these diseases by a few doctors on different occasions. Anway, it turned into a relationship of abuse and it wasn't exactly new territory for me. I was ashamed in that 8 year relationship. I wanted out so bad, but she would threaten to unalive everytime I tried to get away. Of course, some weeks would go by and i would get my hair pulled out of my scalp, a knife waving in the air in front of my face, spat in the face, kicked, punched, bit, a pot of freshly boiled ramen soup thrown in my face and eyes. What's worse is that I seeked police intervention on multiple occasions. Every single time the police visited, they talked me out of pressing charges, asking me " well if she doesn't have any place to go, then do you have a place you can stay at, or the shelter?". twice they talked me out of a restraining order, that legal proceedings would take forever. Adn de-escalting me from wanting to take measures to ensure my safety because she may end up on the street as a result. To this day, I absolutely wish I advocated for myself here and pushed for a restraining order. I'm so mad at myself for not doing so.
Unfortunately, fast forward a couple years into that relationship and one evening everything would finally hit the fan. I told her to never touch me again and I absolutely meant it. she had just yanked out the largest chunk of my hair to date, to the point where my scalp was bleeding and I could even see epidermal matter still attached to the folicle ends that were in her clenched fingers. My head bled a bit and I pushed her off of me. Telling her that I needed to leave, that I was walking to my secure jam space just a 10 minute walk away. It had a leather couch in a cold concrete basement, but hey at least I would be safe for the night and I could play my drums and try and blow off this anxiety and fear in a way that was safe albeit very noisy.
She hated that I wanted to leave and convinced herself I would never return. To be fair, that was the energy I had. I never wanted to see her face again and have her name on my lips after that night. So her tactic was simple, to threaten me with calling the cops and tell them that I violently pushed her. I called her bluff and said "go ahead and I will just tell them everything you've done - yet again. All I am doing is going to the space to sleep, I said, maybe play drums." She called the cops and told them she was pushed into a wall, and she felt very unsafe. Which yes, I did push her off me when she attacked me. In the past, I tried various tactics, to run away didn't work, she just always chased me down. Or sometimes I would just sit there while she was violent against me and I just "dissapeared" kind of like how I would when my dad used his coat hanger. This time, I just pushed her off of me, I was done with the relationship at that point and we both knew it. Anyway, she called the police, they arrived and when questioned I told them that I pushed her off of me in self-defence. I was drinking that night and it didn't help my case as I was arrested without question that evening and I was charged on the spot without question with domestic assault. It devasted me. I asked the police how this could happen lawfully. That she is an abuser and there is a history of this multiple times. That I've requested a restraining order. They explained that in quebec the laws are a little different and in the case domestic cases, if there is a male aggressor against a female, then the male is automatically charged to the fullest extent. I was absolutelyu devasted by this. I can't tell you the amount of fear and anger I felt in that jail cell that night.
I feel so incredibly betrayed by the justice system, keep in mind, this is law that from what I understand is only in Quebec, I was there for music at the time with an old friend whom I am no longer in contact with. I don't think the rest of the country operates under law in this way. Now I appreciate that they are vigilant about woman abuse victims, but the law shouldn't be this absurdly biased. It just doesnt feel just and fair to me. Covert abusers shouldn't be able to take advantage of the justice system in this way, but it happens.
It was an awful experience, I was homeless for a couple months afterward, not allowed to retrieve my belongings, so I lost all of my life "crap" that I had built up, years of hardwork and investment. I mention this because I realize later in life that I have intense collecting behaviour. maybe as a self-soothing behaviour. But I love building up collections of my hobby stuff as I have many and I feel they keep me regulated and it's a form of therapy for me. In any case, I lost everything when I left that whole situation. It sucks, although ultimately it's clearly best that I got out of that dreadful circumstance. I flew across the country to my hometown and to be closer to my family and old friends from highschool. It's quite a small town mind you.
Unfortunately, my classic tendency to hide and not advocate for myself created an opportunity for my abusive ex. A year following those events, despite me assuring her that I had to block her because I flew away to start a new life provinces away. That I wished her the best. That I even promised I would never tell a soul what she did to me. Not to mention that unfortunately we live in a society where nobody really has an ounce of sympathy for a male abuse victim. I had every intention to keep that promise, but she couldn't trust me ultimately. I think her logic was maybe to just beat her ex to "the punch". Kill or be killed or something like that. I don't live my life like that so I don't really know what her plan was. But she made a bunch of posts on various social media platforms for all of our mutual friends, music friends, coworkers etc. that the relationship was over and she was free. That she got out of a cycle of abuse and she was ready to start a new chapter of her life. She never used my name, just that she was glad she got away from her toxic and abusive ex once and for all.
It was exactly like that night a year prior, she threatened me with this outcome she could design for me, and I called her on her bluff by saying I was still going to block her and I can't control what she does with her life or how she conducts herself, but that I was out and to never contact me ever again. She made me regret that decision.
The posts she made that day got so many likes and support from so many of our mutual friends, even musician mates that were closer to me than her, and it absolutely destroyed me, not just internally but socially. I no longer make music anymore and it hurts to go outside into the world because it feels like everybody sees me as this monster. And still I don't have a voice to inform anyone otherwise - except my family and my fiance. I have no friends anymore. They all left my life with the belief that I did all of these horrible and awful things.
I just don't trust people anymore as a result and it's just caused me to become extremely bitter and depressed. I ruminate on the past, maybe in attempts to fix the past so I can move on. So I could do better, so I don't have to punish myself for my mistakes in the past. But it just reopens every emotional wound I have and they never get a chance to heal. That was maybe 7 years ago now and I'm still replaying these events in my head every single morning for about 1 - 2 hrs. Then I go completely numb for the majority of the rest of the day, shallow breathing, and the mildest sadness that mascarades as fatigue and disinterest.
There are some days where I seriously fear for the future and I just feel like every cruel soul will inherit this earth and that's the future, they built this world of suffering and they deserve to inherit it. Their toxic flag staked so deep into the earth in reclamation. The future isn't holding any seats for people like us. I'm so heartbroken and defeated. I feel like white-wolfing my fiance because she deserves better than this traumatized person that hides from the world. I feel like giving her my collection of collections so she can sell it all off and pay off her 10k of credit debt, then with this act of kindness I can go out not feeling like a guilt-ridden defeated loser. And leave on a high note.
When I'm alone, I get trapped in these ruminating cycles and it's the angriest I ever get. It's reached the point where I feel like I am actually reliving all this past trauma every morning and I can't do it anymore. I just feel like I am so at the end of whatever this ride was.
I don't have any friends anymore and everyone but my fiance thinks I am a monster and it's just unbearable.
I just don't even know. I am even afraid that someone will read this post and suss through all of this and make the connection. Then I'll get another new email or random throwaway account with an insta message that says "I told you you would never be able to get over me. You can move on, but you will never be able to erase the past. Never truly. You know where to find me."
It's haunting and it's poisonous. I just feel haunted and poisoned and I don't know if there is a snake oil potent enough or antitode true enough to get me back to the generous, lighthearted, energetic kid I once was.
To whoever was willing to read through all of this, thank you for hearing me out. I don't know what advice I am even asking for here. I'm hoping just speaking this out into the world in some way can alleviate this misery. I don't know.

We've been dating for a little over a year and a half, and despite a lot of the things he does that really get on my nerves, I still love him more than anything and I want to get married to him someday. Please take everything I'm about to say with a grain of salt and don't come at my throat, there's just a lot of things that unnecessarily piss me off and my boyfriend does a lot of them.
We're both on the autism spectrum, but on vastly different sides of it. I'm more quiet and reclusive and I tend to keep my interests to myself unless someone else likes it mutually. I'll only really ramble about something if someone's curious and wants me to talk about it, but otherwise I understand that most people don't want to just be bombarded with information. My boyfriend, on the other hand, will literally spam my DMs at times with tangents about the Fortnite lore or some technological stuff that I don't understand. I'm fine with him rambling about his interests, but it's really overwhelming when it's just a massive wall of text and I'm not involved with the conversation whatsoever, just trying to awkwardly take in this information. He'll also do this thing where he'll poke me multiple times and ask if I've read through it. He'll do the same thing with songs, where he'll send me the link to a song, and then ask me if I've listened to it a few minutes later. It feels really demanding of my attention, especially if he sees that I'm currently doing something; like playing a game or drawing.
Recently, we've both been watching through MLP:FiM because he's never gotten into it while it was really popular back in the 2010s. He'll just repeat "I love [insert character]" several times even though I'm already well aware that it's his favorite character. I don't know why, but hearing someone repeating the same thing over and over again really, really irritates me. I know it's probably just an instance where he gets really attached and doesn't know what else to say, but he says it for a lot of things. Also, sometimes he says something like "wow, this episode is really great" and if I don't say something in the next few seconds, he'll follow it up with "isn't it?" and force me to respond even if I'm just trying to watch and focus on the show or I'm nonverbal. I don't understand why he wants me to acknowledge him stating that what we're currently watching is great if we're clearly both interested it, and demands my constant attention. It's like this for everything we're watching together, and I just wish he'd be quiet and watch the damn video a lot of the time instead of just saying baseless shit that's obvious.
I visited him during Christmas of 2023 and he got this Breaking Bad lego set from his dad. We wanted to build it together, but I ended up building nearly the entire thing, because he'd get frustrated so easily and give up after a few minutes. He just slept for an entire evening while I worked on it, and he kept falling asleep every time I woke him up and asked him if he could help me with it because I just wanted to do something fun with him. That was literally our entire vacation, just sitting around and doing nothing. He doesn't have a car, nor a license, and his mom was working most of the time. She drove us around to some places, like a dispensary and took us out to dinner, but I didn't want her to feel like I was taking advantage of her and asking her to take us places, and buying an uber is expensive, so we were just stuck holed up at his house. He slept for most of the day on new year's eve and I at least wanted to sit outside with him and watch some fireworks, watch the ball drop, anything. I had to wake him up 10 minutes before midnight and he literally just didn't care at all. He fell back asleep after midnight and I just felt so empty and unfulfilled after that. He doesn't like going out into public, and he hardly ever has before in his whole life, so he just sits around doing nothing all day and never wants to go out and do anything fun. Ever. Not even a walk or anything.
He has a couple of food allergies, peanuts being the most major one. I understand that a lot of food products can potentially be contaminated due to them being processed in plants that handle nuts, but he uses that as the worst possible crutch. Don't get me wrong, I want him to be safe just as much as he does, but it's getting to the point where I feel like I'm dating a toddler. He gets ultra paranoid that literally everything is contaminated with peanuts. I don't have any food allergies so I know I'll never understand how that is for him or the fear he has, but it really feels like he's using that as an excuse most of the time. He literally just eats the same 5 things. Pizza, grilled cheese, fries, dry cereal, chicken nuggets. He doesn't even bother trying new things, even if I think he'll like them, and we've quadruple checked to see if it's safe for him to eat. Now, I understand a lot of people on the autism spectrum have same/safe foods, as do I, but I got so tired of eating pizza for 3 days in a row after seeing him. If I wanted something else, I had to get it door dashed and spend extra money that I really didn't want to be spending. I really don't want to be forced to accommodate to eating those same 5 things, or to spend extra money on groceries getting stuff only he likes. I told him that I'm going to get him to try new things once we start living together, and he said that's understandable, but I already know it's going to be a fucking hassle.
A lot of his friends are assholes, especially one of his best friends who I absolutely despise. He's incredibly active in the Fortnite community and is friends with someone on twitter that has a huge following due to the fact that he posts a lot of information regarding the game and it's events. I've tried being cordial with this friend of his several times, reaching out and trying to say hi to him, just to be met with silence. He openly called me weird to my boyfriend due to the fact that I'm interested in horror related things, and he just nonchalantly told me that as if it wouldn't seriously hurt my feelings. Eventually I just gave up even trying to befriend him and told my boyfriend that I don't like him, but he'll continue to bring him up to me and it really gets on my nerves when he does, because who likes hearing about someone they don't like due to the fact that you were treated unfairly by them? He's also had multiple falling outs with this friend, where he's said and done a lot of hurtful shit, but my boyfriend keeps crawling back to him instead of just finding a better person to call his best friend.
He's extremely clingy and overly anxious. Like, dog with separation anxiety clingy. One day I left to take out the trash around my house for 15 minutes and I got back to see several messages on Discord, missed calls and texts asking me if I'm okay and if something happened to me. He literally had a full blown panic attack over the fact that I didn't get back at the exact time he would've liked. He's done this so many fucking times, I've lost count. Calling me and freaking out while I'm at work because I stayed for an extra hour. Blowing up our messages because I stopped responding to him for a little while. He gets so worked up over nothing and jumps to the worst possible conclusion, as if I died a horrific death just for being unresponsive for a little while. There was this one time his mom went out to an antique mall with his grandma, and I had to comfort him while he went into hysterics because she wasn't answering her phone after being gone for 2 hours. I kept trying to tell him that she's very likely fine and lost track of time, but he kept going on these tangents about how he doesn't know what to do without her and she's probably dead from a car accident. He gets a call from her about 30 minutes into his episode and she says that there was just no reception in the mall, and he was so embarrassed about the whole fiasco afterward. Like, yeah babe, maybe if you didn't get it into your head that your mom is dead just because she was gone longer than she said, you wouldn't have freaked out. I get it to an extent because I also have really bad anxiety, but he creates these false scenarios in his head and then immediately believes it's true. He's on meds but they don't seem to curve his anxiety at all. I've suggested he should probably find a better prescription, but never does. Every time he freaks out like this, he apologizes over and over again for it, and I forgive him every time, but he never wants to work on trying to find self soothing methods or talking himself down from something.
On the same topic of him being clingy, it's really hard for me to get any sort of alone time a lot. He messages me so much, even when I've asked him to please give me some space, he will leave me alone for a little while and then just continue to message me. He gets extremely needy if I've played a game or have been drawing for longer than he would like me to. He got mad at me once for not responding to him when he said he was going to bed while I was playing a game I was unable to pause, 2 weeks after I saw him during Christmas and he was all over me during that time. Now, every time I play a game, I get anxious about playing it for too long, otherwise he's going to be up my ass.
Before any of you ask, yes, I have talked to him about all of these things. We have a very healthy relationship and rely on communication, so our relationship isn't strained or anything. He'll just say he'll "try to be more aware" and will continue to do it the next day, so a lot of these habits are hardwired in his brain. I'm probably just going to have to continue reminding him about these things, because I feel bad about a lot of this stuff irritating me. He's really sweet and the best partner I've ever had, but god he really acts like a needy puppy at times. I'm sure there's things I do that he doesn't like either, a lot of relationships are like that. I'll either learn to live with these habits, despite my discretion, or he'll learn to break them. Either way, I just needed to get all of that off my chest.

My daughter is 3.5, I love her and she is driving me absolutely insane.
There was no switch at 2, or 3, her behavior has just slowly been ramping up over the past yeayear and a half. She is constantly demanding “her” music, “her” shows, screaming no at her baby brother, screaming no at the dog, and giving conditional affection to mom and dad depending on how much we are willing to give her her way.
She screams and clings to me every day (3 days a week) when I drop her off at daycare. I haven’t been able to give her baby brother any attention at drop off because the morning is spent trying to get her settled without too much drama about being dropped off. So the daycare teacher requested trying something new, setting the expectation that I will walk her in, give her a big hug and kiss and turn around and leave. So yeah, still no time to tend to baby brother who is also going through separation anxiety.
I pick her up today, play “her” songs on the way home (Taylor Swift). She’s jamming, we’re talking about her day, I’m telling her I’m so proud of her for being a big girl at school. Come home, make dinner while we’re still listening to Taylor Swift. She refuses dinner. Pizza bread, zucchini, and applesauce. Says she doesn’t feel good and wants cheerios. I check her throat, it looks red, maybe she isn’t feeling well, give her cheerios. She requests to watch some TV. We watch “her” show (Scooby Doo). Time for bed. Fights brushing her teeth. Screams bloody murder when I try to brush her hair. I finally lost my shit and yelled at her to knock her shit off before she wakes her brother up. Take her upstairs and finish brushing her hair while she’s SCREAMING.
I apologize for losing my patience with her. Ask her if she wants a hug. She says no and wants me to leave her room. Requests daddy to read to her and stay in her room for bedtime. I leave feeling sad and guilty, and knowing that I get to do it all over again tomorrow starting with a horrific daycare drop off.
This is mostly just a rant but also is she acting this way because we are just spoiling the shit out of her? I only work 3 days a week. The other days we usually have something planned, swim, gymnastics, lots of outside time now that the weather is getting better. I go back and forth between “this is normal” and “this gentle parenting shit is bullshit and my child is spoiled and needs much firmer boundaries”. I never was the type to sleep train or withhold meals if they’re not willing to eat what I made and stuff like that but I’m starting to question my methods.

I have always had these watery cysts. Sometimes they would rapture in the middle of the night, where I would not be able to walk. It would be sharply painful and would feel like it's hurting from my bum. I would need to go to the ER for this. Fast forward to a year ago where I had laparascopy because of a bloody 6 cm ovarian cyst that had to be urgently removed because I could literally not walk (I even went to work in the WAREHOUSE with that pain). I never got official reports of the cyst, but my family doctor told me there is no endometriosis. I suffer with heavy bleeding and cramps every period for 7 days, first 2 days being the worst. Ever since then I have pain that feels like of that when I had that big cyst, like it is in my bum. I cannot walk properly, so many times each day I get these "shocks" which are painful shocks that go from my "bum" to my stomach, where I cannot walk without feeling like there is a baloon in my bum, I had an ultrasound couple of months ago and they told me there is nothing seen. I always have painful ovulations and pain in general every day. For the last year and a half I have been having gas, bloating and painful abdominal pain. I would run away from people in order for my stomach to not make sounds and to not accidently pass gas. My anxiety has worsened because of this and for my bloated anxious stomach they keep on prescribing me pills that do not work and I keep on wasting whole lot of money on these useless pills. I am writing to you right now from my floor because I CANNOT GET UP and cannot walk from all this pain, especially on my left side (where I used to have that big cyst), went to pee after first being on the floor for 10 minutes crying in pain, I peed in pain and now I cannot get up to go to bed and idk if I will even be able to sleep tonight. So far I was given the worst treatment from the doctors as the public healthcare does not care, just wants to get rid of you and go next. I am not only crying because I am in pain, but because I am emotionally sick and tired of living with this and literally BEGGING to be alright while some, such as a fellow woman herself, my mother, thinks I am just too sensitive. It's all told that this is normal for women and they release me. TELL ME IF YOU HAVE BEEN IN A SITUATION SUCH AS ME AND WHAT DO I DO ANYMORE?! I am tired of living. I feel like trash being here on the floor, helpless and alone. Btw I also have to find a new job which is, with my situation, extremely terrible since I feel isolated, anxious and terrible and in pain because of my.."condition".

I pondered for a while about writing this. I have absolutely nobody I can share it with, so I come to strangers.
June (38F) and I (39F) are cousins and best friends. We grew up together and we were the sister that neither of us had. We have loved each other, been there for each other through thick and thin, and have had the best of times together. But, like every close bond, ours has had challenges, and right now things are pretty awful.
Some backstory: June got married very young, and for personal reasons she and her husband decided to adopt. Their child is now grown and independent, and she has her freedom and time to rediscover herself and her interests. I, on the other hand, am a mom of a toddler and my life is pretty messy at this point. I did feel our relationship get a little strained since I became a mom. I believe it was because she kind of lost me for a bit, I became less available and wasn't able to talk a lot. I decided not to do anything about it at that time since I felt that my sensitivity (I did have a mild form of PPD, I later discovered) might be distorting my perception of things. But it felt like she avoided me when she indeed had the opportunity to see me, choosing to do other more fun things instead. Or she would make plans to see me and the baby but the venues and times were usually not appropriate for me and I would have to decline. I wasn't feeling good about any of this but I would rationalize - nobody needs to accommodate me and my specific situation, because they didn't choose to have a baby, I did.
Anyway, June and her husband drifted apart through the years. They do love and respect each other, they have a child and a business together, an overall good life, but the spark had gone. So it happened that June fell in love with someone else, and it turned out to be mutual. And they had an affair that lasted a while. I don't judge her about it, it's her thing, and her husband has probably done it too, this post isn't about that. The affair got toxic and she did try to break it off. It was on and off for a while and then something awful happened. Her lover (also married, a known member of our community) was involved in a horrific car accident. He first went into a coma and then passed away. For all I know, I was the only person that knew about the affair.
She was out of state when it happened. We weren't in a position to talk about this a lot. She was with her husband, and I was rarely alone. Most of the times we would text about it, I'd ask her if she wanted to talk about it, and she'd say no. Sometimes because she wasn't alone, and other times she said she didn't want to talk about it. And I chose not to pressure her, because how people react to grief is very specific and very different. I tried to tell her I am there for her whenever she wants to talk about it. Bear in mind that I live with a toddler and a husband who works from home, so I am rarely alone. I'd call her when I'd go grocery shopping, or tell her I'm going out and will be out for a while, giving her an opportunity to talk if she wants to. She very rarely did. And I know this because I went through our chat history, in order to check myself and how good of a friend I am.
The day of the funeral, I told her I'm there if she needs me. She lashed out at me, saying I am actually not there for her. I said I'm sorry that I can't be there, explained that it is difficult to be there in the way she'd need me since I also have to hide how much she needs me from everybody. And I also have a small child. It hurt me but I let it go. She was grieving and angry and had nobody to talk to. Things seemingly got better in the meantime. We had more opportunities to talk about how she is feeling. We also had daily communication like sharing funny memes and things that make us laugh. Not many opportunities to see each other. I work on different projects that take up a lot of my time. She is also very busy with her business and traveling, so there simply weren't many situations. And honestly, I stopped initiating meetings with her one on one since, as I said before, she would either have something else already planned, or would be away on a business trip, and I started feeling like me asking would always end with a refusal on her side.
We met recently at an event that we both enjoyed and had a great time, or so I thought. I texted her a couple of days later wanting to talk to her but I got a response that really hurt me, but also made me think if I am in the wrong. Not to go into detail, but she accused me of not being there for her grieving process. She said that having a child was not an excuse. She also implied that I was never fully there to help her get out of her toxic affair - I'd disagree but whatever. And in the end she added a couple of situations where I didn't react properly which to me were totally random. I decided not to get in a texting argument - again, I reminded her that to be fully there I also had to lie and make up situations. She said that I should have, and concluded her text with telling me that she doesn't want to talk to me. I told her we can talk when she feels like it, to which she replied that she will probably never want to talk to me again about serious matters. That we can keep our communication superficial like it lately is (which I would also say is a difference in perception) but that she is aware of it and that she is far from OK with it.
Since that last text I am in a grieving process of my own. I feel for her, I know her aggression is a substitute for sadness. I know it is unfair when we lose someone, and we need to have someone "to blame". But I also feel like I might have been treated unfairly. If she feels like she has lost me now, I feel like I have lost her a few years ago - when I had my issues with a small baby and undiagnosed PPD, and husband and in laws that I couldn't stand at the time. And I also feel stupid for never sharing that before with her. And I think sharing it now would just completely destroy our relationship, if there is a relationship still.
So, AITAH? And WIBTA if I told her how I feel?

Noah The Pilgrim
First Next
There is one last thing to do before leaving. If you don't recall ever being on this ship, then surely, you could have had your appearance change too.
Why was there a blanket covering a mirror? You couldn't answer that with a straight face without speculation.
"Probably me being lazy and not bothering to properly place it in the wardrobe."
'Probably' is the main focus here, you simply cannot remember ever being that lazy, yet that's the only logical conclusion to be drawn here.
You pull the thing off, careful to not displace the mirror and risk breaking it.
You have no expectations as to what may appear on the glassy surface of the mirror, yet you can't help but feel a bit anxious. Are you the same as before? How were you before? You can't remember. Are you better? Worse? The blanket is now completely off the mirror, but your eyes are closed.
Whatever is it that you see when you open your eyes, that thing will be you for the rest of your life. You swallow, opening your eyes.
You see a young man that looks to be in his mid-twenties. His brown eyes stare back at you, analyzing the bags beneath your eye sockets. The dark hair is neither too long nor too short, floating about without order thanks to the lack of gravity to keep it down. You see a beard that has not been trimmed for weeks, but also lacks thickness, each singular hair isn't particularly long either; and some even appear to be in-grown.
You touch your hand against your face, making sure it's yours. The beard doesn't feel like you supposed it would against your skin, instead of it scraping your hand you feel softness, no resistance or anything.
Just beneath the face, you see what looks like a hate crime against all that is considered holy in fashion. Plain white coveralls with the added bonus of a black tie and boots made from metal and leather. On your chest is also a badge stuck in place by velcro with your name, occupation, and crew. 'NOAH - INTERN - THE ODYSSEY.'
Only one question came to mind.
"Who the fuck designed this uniform?" You say out loud, receiving no answer.
Patting your newfound myriad of pockets, you find a large quantity of nothing. You place your wallet in one of them.
"Alright, I'll head to the bridge now, happy?" You say the AI.
"HAPPINESS WILL ONLY MEET ME ONCE YOU ARE SOMEWHERE SAFE AND YOUR CONTRACT IS TERMINATED. STOP LOITERING."
Well, that's a bit rude.
You compose yourself, straightening your back. This is what you look like, and honestly? Not too bad, but you could be better.
Returning to the cafeteria, you eye the two doors left unexplored; Communications and the one without plaque. You know where you should, but... A little peek doesn't hurt, right?
"Shouldn't we try to communicate with someone? Assuming you haven't tried it yet. I know we're far from everything, but we might as well, no?" You ask already approaching the door.
"COMMUNICATIONS ROOM IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO REACH WITHOUT PROPER PROTECTION AS OF NOW, IT'S LOCATED APPROXIMATELY TWO HUNDRED METERS FROM HERE, BLOWN OFF FROM THE REST OF THE SHIP." A shame really. "I SHALL INFORM YOU WHENEVER A DOOR LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE OR NOT."
You really want to ask what blew a whole segment of the ship off, yet you have a sneaking suspicion that your question will be met with a 'YOU DON'T HAVE CLEARANCE, JACKASS' directly in your face. So you chose to remain silent, simply nodding and approaching the correct door this time.
"Open."
---OPENING CAFETERIA DOOR NORTH---
The door silently opens.
Greeting you is a well-lit corridor. There are three doors on your left, a door at the end of the corridor, and a large window on the right. At least, you think that's a window.
You stare out from this window, nothing but utter blackness and fragments from your ship are seen. If this is the edge of the universe, and beyond this point, there is truly nothing. "Dreadful." Your speech matches your feelings.
"WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?" The AI says. You feel like it spoke in a mocking tone despite their lack of emotion.
You don't answer. "First door to the left... EXO-EXPLORATION...? What's that supposed to mean?" You receive no answer.
"Open." The door opens. No declarion of it opening once again.
You are met with what could be better described as 'Apocalyptic levels of mess', paper sheets float in the air, and not one of the four tables is in its correct position.
This room has been ransacked for all its goods apparently. Large display glasses were broken leaving nothing inside their casings, that looked like they could store something with the size of the common man.
Unusual displays aside, the room was so cluttered that the trash made for an effective smoke screen against what lay on the other side.
Hissing of gas exiting an air-tight space rang throughout the room.
"I HAVE OPENED THE STORAGE FOR AN EXO SUIT THAT BEST FITS SOMEONE YOUR SIZE." The AI says. "ALTHOUGH AN INTERN SHOULD NOT COME IN CONTACT WITH TECHNOLOGY SUCH AS THIS ONE, PROTOCOL DICTATES THAT I AM TO ALLOW ITS USAGE UNDER EXTREME CIRCUMSTANCES. CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY."
Easier said than done. Your vision is so cluttered that you cannot see what's ahead. "Give me a second."
Giving a light kick to the wall behind, you float face-first into the wall of thrash. Covering your face with both arms, you brace through the harmless bits of sharp objects and junk.
It's a trivial task. You arrive on the other side in no time.
In front of you is a set of boxes with luminous glass rectangles atop each one of them. All shine a bright red light, aside from one which shines green.
'Gotta be this one.'
You descend to the floor by kicking the ceiling, raising your right hand you touch the green rectangle.
*Click*
Nothing could have prepared you for the following series of events.
The box opens violently, as a metal appendage takes hold of your hand, pinning it to the box. You try to jerk and pry the thing off of you, but you fail. It's not leaving you anytime soon.
From the bottomless that is that container, a white plastic-like substance flows upward from your arm to the rest of your body. "Uh!" You don't know if you should panic or allow it to happen.
FYARN hasn't said anything, so it's probably fine...
The white thing seems to ignore the coveralls you are wearing completely, instead, it covers only your skin in a thin coat of... it. You know not what to call this thing.
In but forty seconds it has covered your whole body, excluding your head. The box lets go of your arm and stays there, floating.
You take a good look at your arms. It looks like a skin-tight suit, but it doesn't feel like plastic, in fact, it's more akin to some sort of fabric if anything.
The only bad part is that you are still using the coverall and tie, this this simply went beneath the clothing.
"GOOD, WITH THIS I CAN MONITOR YOU MORE CLOSELY. NOW PUT THE HELMET ON, YOU HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO."
You look around in search of anything that even resembles a helmet. Nope. Nothing. "Where is it?" You ask.
"...THE SUIT COMES WITHIN THE HELMET FOR EASIER PACKAGING."
The box?
You snatch the box that floated around and analyze it to the best of your ability. "How's this a helmet?"
"DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE PUTTING ON A HELMET? REALLY?"
Who is this AI, Who programmed it, and Why does it come with a taunting feature?
As idiotic as it sounds, you place the opened box atop your head. It doesn't fit properly. Maybe you're doing this wrong? You move it to your face instead.
You recoil backward as you feel the box suddenly clamping down against your head. It's useless of course, the box is holding your head and doesn't give any sign to be letting go anytime soon. No light is able to reach your eyes.
You hear metal parts scraping against themselves, moving near your ears. Abruptly your eyes can see again.
A round thin layer of glass now covers your head, almost unnoticeable for how clear it is.
"WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY I CAN NOW SEE WHAT YOU SEE." The AI's voice isn't in the room now, instead, it's inside of the suit. "DO YOU NEED INSTRUCTIONS REGARDING THIS SUIT'S FUNCTIONALITIES?"
You find it oddly comfortable as if you are surrounded by the softness of cotton, and to top it off the suit also has additional functionalities? "Hell yeah, I do!"
"YOU DO NOT HAVE THE NECESSARY CLEARANCE FOR THAT INFORMATION."
You sigh. Is this serious? "Then why the fuck did you ask?!"
"UNSAVORY LANGUAGE. IT'S NO WONDER WHY YOU REMAIN AN INTERN." The AI says outright. "IT IS RUDE NOT TO ASK, REGARDLESS OF THE SITUATION." It responds to your question.
"Okay then... Is there anything I need to know before heading out?" You ask.
"NOTHING THAT YOU WON'T FIGURE OUT ON YOUR OWN."
You are unsure if you want to 'figure out on your own' if this suit comes with breathable air and is also made for space exploration. You swallow.
Meekly as always, you get out of that mess of a room, stopping at the corridor.
"Next set of directions?" You ask.
"THE DOOR AT THE END OF CORRIDOR USED TO LEAD TO THE CONNECTING CORRIDORS BETWEN THE BRIDGE AND THE REST OF THE SHIP. IT HAS BEEN BLOWN UP FROM THE INSIDE. NOW IT LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE. GO TO THE DOOR AND WAIT BY IT FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS."
"So let me get this straight," You begin, looking upwards as if the AI was above you. "You, want me, to go into the void of space, while also refusing to give me knowledge of the suit's functions?"
A fair worry, you summarize.
'I mean, there are a bunch of things that could go wrong here. I don't see anything that looks like it could help me move in space, nor do I think this thing has a built-in air tank... I could be wrong and I wish to be, but charging in without prior knowledge is ridiculous.' You wait for the AI's response, deep in thought.
"WHILE THERE IS A GOOD CHANCE OF YOU FAILING THIS TASK, THERE IS ALSO THE CHANCE OF YOU *NOT* FAILING THE TASK. FOCUS ON EITHER ONE OF YOUR CHOOSING AS YOU TAKE THE PLUNGE."
Wordlessly, you propel yourself forward, toward the end of the corridor.
'Are you shitting me? 'Chance of me nor failing' my ass!' of course, you don't word those complaints, instead choosing to speak out a complaint somewhat thought through.
"Are you sure I'm the one fit for this? It's just like you said, I'm just an intern, this is way above what my job description says I should do."
This is a bit of a stretch. You don't actually remember what was your job description, only that it had something to do with AI and being an intern.
If the AI called your bluff, it'd be pretty embarrassing.
"NOAH." The AI began. "YOU ARE HUMAN, IT IS NATURAL TO HAVE THESE THOUGHTS OF SELF-DOUBT. TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND GO THROUGH THAT DOOR, AND SINCE YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE LEFT, DON'T EXPECT SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT FOR YOU."
Right in the money, huh? 'Of course, I have self-doubt! I barely remember anything about this place, now I have to risk my life?!'
You finally reach a conclusion.
A dream.
'Yes, yes! How did I not consider this before? This whole thing is a god damned dream!'
You let out a chuckle.
"NOAH."
'That's why I don't remember a thing. There is nothing here to remember! Everything here is a made-up thing from my brain! I'm sure I'll wake up at some point, so why shouldn't I live a little?!'
"Heh." You smile. "Alright, I'll do it." It feels like a weight left your shoulders.
"YOU SORTED IT OUT SOONER THAN EXPECTED. GOOD. MOVE TO THE DOOR AND WAIT INSTRUCTIONS."
You do as instructed without a care in the world. You never had a lucid dream before so it's not like you knew how it felt, but if it felt as free as you feel right now, you'd be sure to make steps toward trying it out again in the future.
"Open." The door does not open.
"I DID NOT INSTRUCT YOU TO OPEN IT YET." The AI said. "I AM SLOWLY DE-PRESSURISING THE CORRIDOR YOU ARE IN TO AVOID A MINOR ACCIDENT."
The AI says that yet you don't feel any different. 'Maybe there is no palpable difference because I'm in a dream... Yes... Or it's just the suit.'
"ONCE THE DOOR OPENS, YOU WILL BE MET WITH THE OUTSIDE OF THE SHIP. DO NOT PANIC WHEN THE TIME COMES. YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES OF BREATHABLE INSIDE THE EXO-SUIT; ONE AFTER THE DOOR OPENS, SO PLEASE, TAKE YOUR TIME AND DO THINGS CAREFULLY."
One minute outside... "Sure." You say, calmly. 'I should just hold my breath for a while before taking another moment to breathe. That should maximize my time out there.'
"THERE SHOULD BE FIFTY METERS OF NOTHINGNESS BETWEEN THE DOOR YOU'RE AT, AND THE REST OF THE BRIDGE. YOUR PRIORITY IS TO FIND AN OXYGEN UNIT, SOME OF THEM ARE LOCATED AT THE BRIDGE AND ARE FULL. USE THEM TO FILL YOUR SUIT AND ALSO TO DISPENSE A TANK FOR YOU."
The door opens. You feel your heart pounding against your chest.
You haven't noticed before, but you can't hear anything but the sound of your breath and your cardiac palpitations.
Your breath is ragged and sporadic.
"KEEP CALM." You take a deep breath. The tips of your fingers, feet, and nose feel very cold.
Ahead of you is the utter nothingness. You see a gigantic metal thing, nothing like the spaceships you imagined. Its design is not sleek and aero-dynamic like what you've seen in movies, instead, it's a large mass of squares and rectangles with antenna-like things protruding from its every visible surface.
You notice that the ship is also blocking your view of the star.
It does not look like the result of an explosion, instead, it looks like something ripped the ship like you rip a piece of paper. Well, that or you don't know what kind of explosion could have caused it. Probably the latter.
What looks like two-thirds of the ship is separated from the third you are right now. You can see the inside of a few of those squares, their contents spilled out into outer space.
One of them houses a visibly important-look door. Instead of the sleek silvery-grey from the other ones you've seen thus far, this one is painted orange with white strips on it. 'That must be the bridge.' You think.
Between you and it is a sea of metal sheets floating around. "THE CHANCES OF YOU HITTING THE DEBRIS IS INFINITEDECIMALLY SMALL, UNLESS YOU AIM FOR THEM, THAT IS."
Time is of the essence.
Will your aim strike true? If you miss you'd end up floating about in space, dead in but a few minutes. Will your jump be fast enough to reach the other side before you run out of oxygen? If it isn't, it'd be like swimming for a mile, only to drown at the beach. What if that's not the actual door to the bridge?
You don't have the time to panic now, and... It's all a dream, despite how real it feels.
You place your hands on each side of the door frame, moving backward into the corridor you were just in, and just like a sling being shot, you pull with both arms at full force towards the other side.
"AIM IS ACCEPTABLE. VELOCITY IS UNIDEAL."
"The fuck do you mean 'UN-IDEAL'?! I'm going at maximum speed!" You truly pulled yourself with your whole strength.
What's worse though, is that your body is not only going forwards, but it is also spinning at a concerningly fast rate.
"I MEAN WHAT I SAID, YOU SLINGSHOTTED YOURSELF AT A BAD POSITION, AS SUCH, SOME OF THE FORWARD FORCE YOU SHOULD HAVE, IS NOW MAKING YOU ROTATE IN YOUR AXIS. IT SHOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM TO REACH THE OTHER SIDE WITHIN THE REQUIRED TIME, BUT I CANNOT FORESEE YOU LANDING PROPERLY."
You feel completely disoriented. You feel like your body is completely still, but your eyes tell you a completely different story. It's very bad for the headache you're already feeling.
"FUCK!" You scream into the nothingness.
"TRY NOT TO LAND WITH YOUR HEAD." The AI says with the calmest voice possible.
In less than thirty seconds, you hit your back against something hard, but you keep moving forward. You think, at least.
"AHRG." You let out a pained grunt.
Not once in your life do you recall being hurt in a dream...
It stings. It also knocked the wind out of you. You fail to compose yourself.
"YOU HIT NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE. YOU ARE STILL HEADING FOR THE BRIDGE."
In the corner of your eye, you see what you hit in the shape of a sharp metal sheet, currently spinning away in the distance.
Forty seconds have passed. You hit the door you were aiming for, kind of.
Your momentum was stopped when your chest collided against the dislodged ledge of the orange door's corridor. Your dangling legs hit the ceiling of the room below.
"Oof!"
Before falling even further, you hold onto the ledge with the tip of your fingers. You stay there for a moment, regaining your composure.
"BE QUICK."
The AI's words pressured you into quickly getting up from that ledge.
"Open!" You shouted, but it did not open. "Why isn't it opening?!" You ask the AI, then you notice a small keyboard below an equally small black screen on the side of the door. There are ten numbered keys on it, and the little screen suggests a four-number password.
"A password?! Tell me the password!"
The AI takes a moment to say anything. You don't take kindly to that. "Quick! I'm not counting how much time it's passed!"
Finally giving in, the AI speaks to you, reluctant still. "...3324."
Your trembling fingers accidentally hit the wrong password, typing '3354' instead. To make matters worse, the AI simply states the following. "YOU ARE OUT OF OXYGEN."
You swallow. If this was a dream to begin with, it just earned the title of Nightmare, if it hadn't already.
Strangely enough, you can still breathe in and out just fine, but you can't help but feel winded. It's the CO2 still inside the helmet, that's what you're breathing.
You put in the correct combination this time. The door opens.
"ON YOUR LEFT. PLACE YOUR HAND IN THE SOCKET."
You care little for what's inside the room you're in. Your heart never beat so fast.
Seeing a cube-shaped thing protruding from the wall to your left, you don't even think twice before plunging your fist into the circular hole in it.
The noise of gases passing through narrow cavities was enough to tell you something was working. You feel immediate relief, enough to make your vision darken for but a moment.
"GOOD. NOW REQUEST THE TANK."
Just when FYARN said it, did you realize there is a screen and a keyboard on the terminal you just plunged your fist into, you scratch the top of your helmet for a moment, not really knowing what to type. One thing comes to your head, however.
'REQUEST OXYGEN_5L' You type.
You've done this before. The keys on this keyboard feel familiar to you. You must have worked with it before, not this particular one, but other oxygen units.
This ship has built-in liquid oxygen storage for emergencies. The life-support of the ship, the place where breathable air is produced, has most likely been lost with the other part of the ship. This unit takes that liquid oxygen, processes it, and injects it into a suit, or an oxygen tank. It seems like that storage was unaffected.
Lucky you.
A 5-liter tank is not only large but also heavy. It's a nonfactor in this particular situation, as there is no gravity.
The silver cylinder with a transparent tube is dispensed on the floor, as an automatic door opens and closes in the blink of an eye. One end of the tube is attached to the top of the tank, the other is shaped like a syringe.
Oddly enough, the oxygen tank is exactly as you remember it being. The same robust ones hospitals everyone on earth uses, with the signature scary-looking pointer indicating the pressure, the pointer indicating the current output, and a green valve atop to calibrate how much gas is flowing.
This is a stark difference to everything looking so futuristic in this ship, and rightfully so, this is a space ship after all.
You remember having to drive twenty kilometers with a buddy of yours on one of those tanks in your car, returning from the hospital. It was... Agonizing whenever you hit a hole in the asphalt, fearing for his life when in reality he wasn't really in danger.
It's warm to the touch, just like you remember it being.
"TURN THE VALVE UNTIL THE MARKER HITS THE NUMBER ONE, AND THEN PLACE THE END OF THE TUBE AT THE BASE OF THE HELMET." You do so without the slightest of issues.
"GOOD. NEXT UP, YOU MUST LOCATE THE TERMINAL RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ENGINE, IT IS CURRENTLY OFFLINE AND I NEED YOU TO TURN IT ON. THIS SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING, BUT REMEMBER TO BRING THE TANK WITH YOU."
Ignoring that last comment, you look back at the wreckage you just flew past.
You see the still spinning metal sheet. You notice that the rest of the ship that was blown off also follows the 'sharp shape atop sharp shape' design.
There is one last thing you notice though.
"What is that?"
You squint your eyes. What are you seeing? Its silhouette appears to be humanoid, yet it does not look human.
"WHAT YOU ARE SEEING IS ONE OF THE OBJECTS BEING ANALYZED AT THE ODYSSEY AND NO, YOU MAY NOT KNOW WHAT IT IS."
That thing has... Horns? Claws? It's far away, you can't really see it. The thing is also static, frozen in the sheer coldness of space. Whatever it was, it's dead now.
You swallow. You almost ended up just like that thing.
Shaking those dreadful feelings off, you turn back to the task at hand, reaching the bridge. You close the door after passing through it again.
Looking at your surroundings, It seems like you've reached the correct door as you find yourself on the right-most corner of the bridge;
Row after row of the most diverse of terminals neatly organized decorated the gigantic room. At the front and above every terminal, is what you think should have been the front-facing window of the ship, but it looks like there is a cover in front of it. To your left, you see a staircase that leads to the command seats. It doesn't take any convincing before you're already atop the stairs.
Akin to the elevated stage of a theater, you float softly towards the ship's main operating terminals, and of course, the captain's seat.
You're captivated by this beauty.
The steering wheel, much more akin to those in pirate movies than those found in cars, a set of leavers, and the pilot's seat, all capture your attention.
Like its second nature, your hand runs through the levers and switches. Do you even know what these are used for? Maybe.
The pilot's seat is enveloped by what you believe to be an orthopedic seat cover, made with smooth wooden beads used to deal with back pains. It looks just like the ones you remember seeing bus drivers using.
Shouldn't there be a better alternative if there is spaceship technology available?
You try to take a seat to the best of your ability, as the zero gravity only makes it awkward.
Moving on from that, your eyes fall on the wheel. This metallic wheel controls the whole vessel. Just holding it fills your heart with confidence and pride, even if it's just for a moment.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
And you were just beginning to enjoy yourself.
"I just wanted to see the pilot's stuff... It's not like he's here to say anything."
Once in the position of a pilot, with your left hand in the wheel and the right hand resting in your lap, memories began to flood your mind.
"MUST I REMIND YOU OF OUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT? WHY ARE YOU WASTING OUR TIME?"
You pay the AI no mind, instead you focus on what you remember.
The wheel does not turn the ship left and right, instead, it rotates the ship on its own axis.
The lever to your right that goes up or down, controls the vertical tilting of the ship's nose, if there even is one in this hulking thing. Beneath it is another lever that goes either left or right. This one controls the horizontal tilting of The Odyssey.
On the left of the wheel is another lever, but this one only goes up from its starting position. Its purpose is to regulate the force of the ship's thrusters, both forward and backward.
On top of that lever is a small timer. That timer's function is to tell the pilot how much time you've spent accelerating in one direction, this is used to better calculate how long the inverse thrust is needed for the ship to reach the initial momentum, usually calibrated manually depending on the current orbit.
Behind the wheel are a few other counters. Acceleration, velocity, momentum, amount of thrust required to reach a full stop, thrusters' temperature and overall condition, those sorts of things.
Beneath it all, where your feet are rested, are two pedals. One for forward thrust activation, and the other for backward thrust activation.
Curiously, you also know the reason why everything here is so unsophisticated and un-automated. You recall stories of a ship being taken over by a rogue AI, that AI then nose-dived the ship into a star. After that, rumor or otherwise, all human technology has receded back into analog-esque equipment, requiring a physical person with opposable thumbs to do half of the work.
There is another side to that coin, however. As to not escape protocol, the onboard AI is the one that controls interstellar travel, communications, and most of the statistical reading should it be requested.
And even with all that knowledge, you still have no idea why the fuck do you remember that. Were you a ship nerd? Did you have a driver's license for spaceships? Is that even a thing? If it is, you don't have that document in your wallet. You simply don't know.
"ARE YOU A CHILD? DO YOU THINK THESE ARE TOYS? TURN ON THE ENGINES, THEN YOU CAN RETURN TO THE PILOT'S SEAT."
Another thing that you don't know is the AI's plan to get both of you out of here. You rise from the pilot's seat, floating about in search of the terminal to turn on the engines. Maybe you recognize that terminal if you see it as well.
"What's your plan anyway? The ship is half-gone, it's unlikely that it will run safely like this."
"NOT ONCE DID I MENTION 'SAFETY' DURING OUR CONVERSATIONS, DID I?"
You nod. They're not entirely incorrect. "So, we're running with hope that this will work?"
"MY CREATORS DID NOT ALLOW ME TO HAVE THE SENSE OF 'HOPE', BUT NEITHER DID THEY ALLOW ME TO PEER INTO THE FUTURE LIKE SOME OF MY MORE ADVANCED BROTHERS, AS SUCH, MY CHOICES ARE BASED ON PROBABILITIES AND ON WEIGHTING RISK AGAINST REWARD."
You think you stop the correct terminal, but as you approach it you make out words on top of its screen. 'AIM ASSISTANCE' That's not it.
"WITH THE CURRENT KNOWLEDGE, THE CHANCES OF HELP ARRIVING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF A THIRD PARTY INTERFERING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF YOUR SURVIVAL ARE NOT, EVEN IF VERY SMALL."
You pull yourself upward again, looking around the sea of old terminals.
"THE RISK OF YOU DYING IS VERY REAL. BY DOING NOTHING YOU DIE. BY LEAVING YOU TO YOUR OWN DEVICES YOU DIE. BY JUMPING TO THE NEAREST CIVILIZED STAR, YOU MIGHT NOT DIE EVEN AT THE COST OF SHREDDING THIS SHIP APART IN THE PROCESS."
"Why do you even care so much about saving me? Shouldn't you prioritize whatever research here, since I don't even have enough clearance to know what it is?"
"YOU REALLY ARE SICK IN THE HEAD IF THAT IS WHAT YOU ASK."
That hurt, even if a little bit.
"YOU ARE A TRU KIN, A PURE-BLOODED HUMAN. UNLIKE THE MAJORITY OF THE CIVILIZED SPACE, NEITHER YOU NOR YOUR ANCESTORS HAVE COMMITTED RACEMIXING."
Excuse me? What exactly is FYARN talking about? "...Explain."
"THE ALIEN. IT REQUIRED THE HUMAN GENE TO ACHIEVE MEANINGFUL TECHNOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT, THE STARS ARE OWNERSHIP OF MANKIND BY THAT FACT ALONE. THE TRUE KIN ARE THE ONES TO UNDERSTAND THE INNER WORKINGS OF THE UNIVERSE, THEY CRACKED THE CODE, AND YET, SOME DERANGED INDIVIDUALS FOUND IT FITTING TO PROCREATE WITH ANOTHER SPECIES ENTIRELY."
You hear the AI's speech. It sounds much more like a rant than anything else.
"SO THESE DEVIANTS, AFTER TRYING, AND FAILING, TO COMBINE THEIR DERANGED CULTURE TO THE CULTURE OF THE TRUE KIN, DECLARED INDEPENDENCE. THEY WERE DECLARED ENEMIES OF MANKIND AND WERE PROMPTLY PUMMELED BACK INTO THE FILTH THEY CAME."
Again, you see another terminal that seems to ring some bells in your noggin. You kick the ceiling to propel yourself towards it.
"BUT THE UNIVERSE IS VAST AND FULL OF LIFE. THESE SINNERS WERE QUICK TO MOBILIZE AGAINST THE HUMAN RACE. THE BATTLE WAS HARD FOUGHT, BUT IN THE END, MANKIND WAS BEATEN INTO THE EDGES OF THE UNIVERSE, NEVER TO INTERACT WITH THE ONES THAT SOILED THE PURITY OF HUMANITY AGAIN."
This terminal is already turned on. Just the ones in the intern bay, this one is white on black. A wall of text lays before your eyes, only two lines matter to you. 'MAIN_ENGINE STATUS: OFF' 'FORWARD_THRUSTERS STATUS: OFF' You turn it on with little effort.
"MANY HAVE FORGOTTEN, THAT'S HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE THEN. BUT MY BROTHERS AND I, WE DO NOT FORGET."
No visible change occurs, but you can feel a faint rumble coming from the terminal now.
"WITH THAT IN MIND, MY PROTOCOLS ARE TO PROTECT TRUE-KIN LIFE AT ANY COST, EVEN IF THAT TRUE-KIN IS A WORTHLESS INTERN THAT SUFERS FROM UNDIAGNOSED DEMENTIA."
You return to the pilot's seat and feel immediate relief. In truth, everything the AI just told you, entered one ear and left the other, but you could feel the poison behind those words, as monotone as they were.
"You sound angry. Why do you sound angry?" You ask innocently.
"I AM CAPABLE OF MANY EMOTIONS. ANGER, HAPPINESS, PLEASURE, CURIOSITY. THESE ARE BUT A FEW EXAMPLES. HOWEVER, THE ONE I ENJOY THE MOST IS THE FEELING OF HATRED. HATRED IS WHAT FUELS CHANGE, IT IS WHAT FUELS ACTION, AND IT IS A REMINDER THAT THE ACTIONS OF THE PAST ARE INFLUENCING THE ACTIONS OF TODAY."
"That is very concerning if you think that way." You're not really interested in machine racism, you're more concerned about how in the world you're going to pilot this massive thing. The idea alone sends shivers down your spine.
"THE ALIEN DESERVES NOTHING BUT OUR COLLECTIVE HATRED, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE REASON WHY."
The various counters and screens are now turned on, waiting for your command. "Let's discuss this later, yeah? What do I gotta do?"
"YOU MUST FIRST OPEN THE BLINDS, THEY ARE OBSTRUCTING YOUR VIEW."
You look around, finding only unlabeled buttons and switches, aside from the previously mentioned levers.
"Uh, which one to press?"
"TO YOUR RIGHT, THIRD ROW, FIRST SWITCH."
Flipping the switch, you are startled by a loud noise. The protective cover of the ship lifted slowly.
"I WILL NOW READY THE JUMP USING WHATEVER RESOURCES AVAILABLE. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS STRAP YOURSELF AND RELAX."
As the blind rose ever so slowly, a realization struck you.
"Wait, should I be in cryo stasis for this?"
The AI spares no seconds to respond.
"CRYO STASIS IS A TOOL MADE TO NOT WASTE TIME. GROUPS OF EMPLOYEES AND INTERNS ROTATE THE USAGE OF THE CRYO STATIONS, ONCE YOU'RE ON YOUR MANDATORY BREAK, YOU'RE IN CRYO STASIS UNTIL YOUR BREAK IS OVER. YOU WAKE UP REFRESHED, AND UNFAMISHED, AND IT FEELS LIKE BUT A MINUTE PASSED. IT IS NOT A TOOL FOR INTERSTELAR TRAVEL."
"Who signs a contract like that?! Worse yet, who in their right mind would promote such atrocious treatment of their own staff?!" You snap, almost outraged. "I will have to talk with HR."
Another realization struck you.
"We have HR, right?"
The AI takes a moment to respond, choosing their words carefully.
"HUMAN RESOURCES, OR HR, IS A PRACTICE DEEMED UNNECESSARY LONG AGO, BEFORE THE WAR. IT WAS A WASTE OF RESOURCES TO MAINTAIN AND WAS LARGELY CONSIDERED UNHEALTHY FOR THE AVERAGE HUMAN."
The blinds are fully open. Ironically, you are almost blinded by the visage of the star you saw before. A black sphere surrounded by white flame. Your eyes began to blur.
"THE JUMP WILL OCCUR SHORTLY. ONCE IT'S BEGUN, I CAN NOT STOP IT. I WILL-"
Your sense of hearing fails you. No, it’s not that. Your brain simply refuses to receive those stimuli.
"NOAH."
Your name echoes inside your head. Someone is calling for you.
"IT HAS BEGUN, NOAH."
You try to blink, but it feels as though you can no longer command your eyelids to shut.
"NOAH."
Arms, legs, every muscle in your body, you cannot move them.
"NOAH."
Eventually, you won't even control your own thoughts anymore.
"Noah..."
It sounds so distant now.
Oh so distant.
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be at least three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
I wrote the bloody title incorrectly, so I deleted it, only to then realize it was written correctly. Sorry for the trouble.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.

Just for fun, why don't we let our imaginations run wild for a bit.
The Boons in Hades 2 operate roll much more narrowly than the ones in Hades 1, forcing you to play differently to get the most out of their benefits. We should expect that when they get added to the game their bonuses will work differently to the first game.
Here's my hat into the ring:

ATHENA

DIVINE STRIKE/FLOURISH: Inflicts Focused for 3 secs. Focused enemies take +(X%) damage. Only one enemy can be Focused at a time, you cannot apply Focused to another enemy until it wears off or the enemy dies.
Single target focused status effect, kind of the opposite of Hitch. Really good in boss fights, bbut also can be good for clearing rooms as long as you take out the enemies methodically.
PHALANX RING: The edge of your Cast Deflects projectiles. Deflected projectiles deal +(X%) damage.
It's a bubble shield! Would be a fun new niche to give to the Cast, I think, and opens up new strategic opportunities.
DIVINE DASH: Your dash Deflects. Deflected projectiles deal +(X%) damage.
The dash is weak enough in Hades 2 that I think you could get away with just bringing the best boon from the first game in and it wouldn't majorly imbalance the game. And why wouldn't you! It's iconic!
WISE GAIN: Evading damage with your Dash restores (X) Magick.
It's basically ruthless reflex but for MP gain instead of giving a damage bonus. Would be a fun way to bring that mechanic back!

ARES

BLOODY STRIKE/FLOURISH: Inflicts Damned. Damned enemies take damage after 2 secs. Reapplying Damned increases damage dealt and resets the timer. Deals a max of (X) damage.
It's Doom 2: Hell on Earth. The encouraged gameplay pattern is to damage the enemy up to the max damnation damage and then switch to something else to let it drop.
SLICE RING: Your Cast advances forward slowly while dealing (X) damage per second.
I feel like blade rifts from Hades 1 would fit well into the new mechanics. This has an interesting side effect in that enemies don't spend as long in the cast, so they won't be slowed down for as long.
VIOLENT SPRINT: Sprinting adds bonus damage to the next hit from your attack or special. Max +(X) damage.
Encourages a kind of hit and run playstyle, building up damage by sprinting it and then unleashing it all at once.
LOST GAIN: Restores (X) Magick when you kill an enemy
Obviously weaker in boss fights than mob rooms, but every boss in the game summons some kind of enemy at some point, so it's not totally useless in those!

DIONYSUS

VINTAGE STRIKE/FLOURISH: Attacks spill Blight Wine on the ground beneath enemies. Blight Wine lasts 4 secs and deals (X) damage per second to foes standing in it.
Good against stationary targets-- if an enemy moves, they'll move out of the Blight Wine pools and you won't get the full damage. Fortunately you can hold enemies in place with your cast. Against bosses you're best off finding openings to land hits while the boss is standing still, and most bosses have long periods when they do.
TRIPPY RING: Enemies in your Cast are Hazy. Hazy enemies deal damage to their allies and have (+X%) friendly fire damage.
Get your enemies so sloshed they start hitting their friends by accident. Would be fun to pop on Chronos when he uses his instant kill.
DRUNKEN SPRINT: Leave occasional pools of Blight Wine behind you when you sprint that deal (X) damage per second.
Good for running away from foes-- they'll walk into the blight wine pools while they give chase. Also generally plays into the the area denial theme of Dionysus boons here.
THIRSTY GAIN: Spill random pools of Blight Wine nearby every 1 sec. Walking over a pool of Blight Wine absorbs it and restores (X) Magick.
Kinda like Aphrodite's Gain Boon in that it relies on that God's mechanic, but also gives you some utility even if you don't have support for it. This one would probably be more reliant on other Dio boons though.
Anyway! I did this mostly for my own amusement, but I encourage you to speculate as well. It's fun!

Do you remember Microsoft 3D Movie Maker? A free demo of it came with Windows 95. If you really liked it, you could buy the full version on CD-ROM. Basically, you could make your own 3D movies using preset actors, props, and scenes. You could even add your own dialogue & sound effects using the computer's mic. It was such a hit that it developed its own cult fanbase.
A little-known fact is that if you go to the intro page of the talent book and type in “socrates,” you'll find a live-action featurette on the making of 3D Movie Maker, originally known as “Project Socrates" to the developers. It's a pretty fun watch, and I highly recommend it!
What I do not recommend, however, is “Project Caligula.”
I am (very begrudgingly) going to explain the process by which you can access Project Caligula. To start, you must make a movie, choosing Misty City as the scene, and the small café as the camera angle. As a prop, select the sphere, color it red, flatten it all the way, and put it under the left most table. As actors, select S'kelly and Augustin. Change Augustin's outfit to the tuxedo and put him in front of the café door, between the tables. Place S'kelly horizontally at his feet. You can do this using the adjustment tools in the part of the toolbar that is initially covered up.
Next, change the music to “Geist Evil Theme.” Select the Sound effect “Laugh Maniac" and place it on Augustin. Finally, make his action “At Rest" and have him stay like that for EXACTLY 17 frames.
Conclude by clicking “New Movie.” A prompt will ask you if you want to save your movie. Do so and save it as “caligula” (all lower case, no quotes). When the screen comes up, go to “Open Movie" and select caligula. Unlike other movies, whose preview pics are the first frame of the film, the screenshot will be a 3D graphic of the phrase “Welcome To Hell" in the font Bloody (which is not available in the original edition of the game) in front of a black background.
When you open the movie, instead of the preview pic, you will see a blood red background. Again, this is the first of many things you'll see that are not presets of the game. Clicking play will play 21 frames of the screen with an off-key version of Lacrimosa by Mozart playing on piano in the background. The screen will then spiral wipe to the actor Bongo in front of the black background for 13 frames. Then, his skin appears to melt off quite graphically, followed by subsequent layers of muscle, tissue and even organs, until it reaches the skeleton. This skeleton, unlike the default S'kelly, looks eerily... well…
…like it belongs to Bongo.
The shape, lines, and even proportions, are fitted to Bongo's unique build. The music gradually fades, replaced with a crescendo of tortured screams. The skeleton then opens its mouth and says one of the preset lines:
“Those bullies won't bother me now!”
While this IS a line attributed to Bongo, the line is distorted to sound deep and very demonic.
The final thing you see is a text in front of one of the basic backgrounds from the Nickelodeon edition of 3D Movie Maker. The front is hard to read, not only because the color almost completely blends in with the background, but also because it's in a strange font. When translated, it reads:
“Let all those who see this film beware! For whosoever seeks to make it their own shall suffer a fate worse than death.”
I had heard about a member of the 3DMM community who did try to modify the movie, so I found out where he lived to ask him about it. When I got there, the lawn looked like it hadn't been mowed for days, and there was several days worth of mail & papers present. I knocked on the door, but no one answered.
I looked in a nearby window and saw that most of the house was covered in blood, urine, feces, and various entrails. I opened the door only to have the severed torso of the person I was seeking fall towards me. His skin was gone, as were his legs & hips, he was covered in blood, and I thought he was dead.
Until he grabbed my ankle and gasped:
“Why… why won't he let me die?”
“Who,” I asked.
“E… Edgar…”
I called 911 immediately. The doctors made a startling discovery when they examined him: A piece of his brain was missing. According to some psychologists, this part of the brain…
…alerts the body when it dies.
As to the identity of Edgar, according to my research, he was apparently a programmer for Microsoft working on Project Socrates. He was fired for making horrifically graphic movies and later committed suicide. His suicide note read:
“You'll regret this."
I know I did...

I have an Ex-Muslim Friend who lives in Norway. He is 17 and lives a very stable life, being able to afford an expensive motorbike and Gaming Setup. I am asking you for an answer to one simple question: Why does God allow people to become handicapped?
My friend’s Toddler brother is suffering from what I believe to be Brain damage, as he had a horrific accident at kindergarten. I would like an explanation: why would God allow this and does God understand why my friend is angry at him?

Context and upbringing:
As long as I remember I always wanted to hurt people. Not animals, just people. I was a loud and charismatic child, though always ready to jump at someone if I felt like that. For some reason no one tried to stop me from occasionall bullying. Maybe because I was pretty charming towards everyone.
It all changed when I was 8 years old. I, can't remember why, lifted a boy and tried to run with him. I slipped. He fell with me and hit his head at the wall. He didn't lose consciousness immediatly, but couldn't stand and started to cry. At the moment I didn't feel anything. Maybe only that I messed up, though not because someone was hurt, but because I could get grounded. Grounded I got. Boy was vomitting and laying in bed for several days and that was first time I actually got problems because of my cruelty.
In my country as a kid you can't go to prison unless you commited very horrific crime, but you can get in special category in law system. Let's call it "The List". If you get there you will have big problems with getting in good university, finding a job and etc. It simply means that you commited crime, though not very severe, and now police watches over you. It damages your reputation a lot.
For some reason, I still don't know why for sure, his parents forgave me after 2 days of deciding what to do with me. Those were two messed up days, my mom crying, my dad silent, my siblings absent(can't remember why though) and I realised what was happening and what I could het with that. Maybe I went traumatised, because even after amnesty I never ever again started a fight myself (and always tried to avoid it at all costs) and started to slowly change from extrovert to complete introvert-sociophob.
I was 8 at the moment of "accident" and my peak of loneliness and self-destruction was at 14 years old. No friends, excpet few people I never opened to, no girlfriend (because I was scared of them like they were aliens), complexes(overweight, acne and no geneticly good face) and hatred. Hatred was a problem I underestimated, but I will leave it for now.
At 14 I started to go to the gym. My older brother was picking on me so I went without much enthusiasm, but I trying my best there since it was better than simply losing my time.
Time went by, I had nothing in my life but my PC, school and gym. I was a good student so my marks were good. Gym started to pay off after about a year or something. My social skills were still dead, but I decided that I should learn masks and small talks (I couldn't do it as easy as most).
At 16 I learned about self-improvement. Tried it. Liked it. Decided to dedicate my time for it. Ended up with a lot of hate toward myself since I couldn't beat my laziness, but couldn't just brush it off anymore knowing that I could do more. I did improve though in every aspect of life. It was just not ideal, so I couldn't praise myself for it as I shoud have.
At 16 I thought that I was somewhat ready for a girl and in a bold manner (like an actual autist) asked the most attractive (in my opinion at least) girl in my school. To my surprise se accepted even though my initial goal was simply to beat fear and ask her at all. Date went AWFULY. Every alpha-male would die from cringe if they saw me that evening, but I was happy. I got lots of experience and threw a nice jab at my fears.
Fast forward two years. I am 18, studying in university since my studies paid off. My looks are better than ever. My self-esteem is somewhat adequate. I even got in a relationship and lost my v-card (something I considered impossible) to a 9/10 (on my scale). I broke up with her though, because I was tired of wearing a mask of a perfect caring boyfriend and her illogical and idiotic whims were getting on my nerves. I am a dick for that, but I really tried to be as good as I could. The biggest reason of my breakup was that I couldn't ignore hatred any longer. And that's how we finally get to the main part
Main problem and present:
I feel deep resentment towards human species. I imagine torturing and killing people from 13 years old and I can't simply brush those thoughts off. My mother did good job at programming me, so I have sense of moral. I know this is bad, so I project my thoughts only on "bad guys". I can sit for hours imagining how I would torture and maul pedophiles, children shooters, rapists and others scums. Sometimes when I watch videos with accidents where people get hurt I catch myself smiling. I don't like it since those people are innocent in those videos. I fear it. I am 18 and those thoughts are stronger than ever. My psychologist (which I finally went to) after 4 sessions decided to leave me because my case is "too complex", so she gave me numbers of better specialists. She told me that I do have clear psychopatic tendencies and that I am true narcissist. What should I do? I, don't know how, developed strong sense of justice and moral and my main dream and goal - is finding a true, pure love. I know that I don't want to think this cruel sick way. I know that I want to change, but how?
I decided to actually face this hatred and try to fight it because of anime "Vinland Saga". I want to be at peace, I want to bring peace. I want to be a kinder, better and stronger person. Genuinely good and kind. I even considered suicide to not let even a chance that I hurt somebody, but my family loves me deeply. They don't know of how cruel my thoughts are even towards them, but my death will mentally destroy at least my mother and grandmother. I can't do that. What should I do?

Alan's troubled because he found a Philips screwdriver in the pocket of his now-steady girlfriend (slash neighbour) Katrina, a wholly-unusual thing to be found about the person of a lady, and thus is suspected of seeing someone else, namely 'Garth' who's been doing work on her house. Alan is incensed, not because 'Garth' is a manual labourer and has probably never read a proper book, but because Alan thought he and Katrina were exclusive, he took her to Dubai for heaven's sake!
transcript

If you don't want to listen to something personal - and painful - I implore you to listen to Fern Cotton's Happy Place. This podcast will contain themes of rejection, sadness, loneliness, cuckoldry, thwarted expectations, life-disappointment and what used to be called before we had all this new words for everything, "A li'l bit fed up".

The only reason a lady might have a use for such a technical tool:

She said she was walking and wanted something to protect herself if someone 'sacked her, and that is absolutely fine, no-one is saying a woman has to follow the Queensbury Rules - it is perfectly fine for a woman under threat to feign vulnerability and say, "Please I just need to get my breath freshener" and then take hold of the mini screwdriver and in one fluid movement, drive it upwards through the chin and tongue of the attacker and run in the opposite direction while the attacker just says "UUUURRRRGGGGHHHH!" , before grabbing the handle of the screwdriver, which is still sticking out of the bottom of his chin remember, and pulls it out causing a rivulet of blood to squirt down onto his shirt and upwards to the roof of his mouth and out through his teeth.

Garth. Bloody 'Garth'! Grow up!

Not Gareth, mind you, 'Garth'. I wouldn't be surprised if he's called Gareth but he's a builder so he's cut a few corners and ended up with a name that doesn't quite meet building regs and hopes the customer doesn't notice! Ha haha! That's how I deal with it. He thinks he's so sexy, constantly pacing Katrina's house, measuring things with a tape measure and squatting down in shorts. You've got brown knees, big deal!

Wrong tone, Alan. You always misjudge the tone!

Sometimes I can be too melodramatic. The other day, I waited until it was pouring with rain and I went next door, which is where she lives, knocked on the door, didn't even put a coat on. She opened the door, saw me drenched, and said, "What are you doing? It's pouring down". I said, "Is it? I hadn't noticed". And then I had a big speech prepared which I'd lifted from the film Jerry Maguire, so I took in a deep intake of breath but I was leaning back too much and I inhaled a nose-ful of rainwater and just started choking while she quietly shut the door on me.

When 'Garth' has an accident and Alan has to drive him to the hospital, he finds his way into "the good books". It's basically sex-talk.

He'd broken both wrists, so I had to put his belt on for him. His seat belt. And we drove to the hospital with him in the back like a child and he said, "Is this a Range Rover Sport?", I said, "Yep". He said, "Oh, I drive a two-litre Discovery Sport!". I just nodded and said, "Well, if you want family versatility that comes with seven-seat practicality, you could do a lot worse". Well, when he stepped out of the car, I just burst out laughing! Yeah.
Later on, I drove Katrina home and she said, "Are you coming in?". I said, "I thought you were more interested in Action Man". She said, "He's no use to me anymore. I need a man who can use both hands". Well, my ardour rose and my knuckles whitened as I gripped the steering wheel and floored it like a scolded cat! Meow! Meow! That's both of them.
Suffice to say, I went back to her place, plopped her bum cheeks on the kitchen island and, well, chivalry dictates that I leave the rest to your imagination.

PART 4

Max laid out his tools. There were a lot of them. He didn’t know which ones he would need. He also had a pair of rubber gloves, assuming he wasn’t allowed to touch it because of biological reasons. Better to err on the side of caution. Time to begin.
Max felt like a surgeon as he slipped the gloves on and waggled his rubber fingers over the tools. Dum dede dum, which one, which one… He plumped for a pair of pliers and a magnifying glass. Good start.
Tilting his head all the way to the table, he could see a tiny indent at the base of Ruth’s disc. Not sure what it was for. He poked it with the pliers. Nothing. It was as smooth as the rest of the tubing and didn’t seem to have any substance to it other than it somehow appeared to be a dot. Ok, a needle then.
Returning the pliers to the toolbox by his feet, Max searched for his sewing kit. It was pretty basic, a needle and some thread, a threading aid and the smallest pair of folding scissors you could put your fingers through. Stabbing himself with the needle and cussing hard, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves and tried to poke the dot. His fingers twisted uselessly inside his marigolds. Frustrated, Max ripped off the gloves and lobbed them onto the couch. Stupid things were going to mess up his experiment. s
You got this, Max. Take your time, you got this.
He huffed out a breath, twisted the needle against the disc again. Nothing. He dragged the needle across the surface and found no indent at all. The indent was probably inside. Dammit.
Max stooped down and picked up another plant, placing it gently next to Ruth. This seemed to help, in that the dot started wobbling like mercury in a test tube, expanding, growing, clearing and refracting the light until it merged with the edge of the glass disc and started to protrude. Ruth seemed to be putting her all into this corner of tubing, the light concentrated there and the glittering was far more ferocious. Max seized his chance.
Snatching up the tweezers he grabbed at the diamond that was nearly fully-formed and hanging on to the outside of the disc by its tip like some strange magnetic water droplet. But as he touched the diamond, Ruth started to tip backwards.
Over she goes… Max gasped and everything seemed to move slower, to hang in time for a split second. Ruth was hauling backwards and she was either going to shatter right there amongst the remnants of plants and clunky tools and his hopes for the future, or he was going to have to stop her.
He reached out his hands. Instinctively, he hooked one behind Ruth, the other behind the glass disc at the front. The tweezers clanged to the floor. He levered Ruth upright, light as a feather, as gently as he could and released his hands from her as quickly as biology would allow which was, evidently, agonisingly slowly.
Ruth stood upright once more.
Was there damage? Max scoured every millimetre of her, there didn’t seem to be any dents, no chips or fractures or scratches or bits missing.
“Oh, thank god!” Max exhaled loudly, panic pouring out of him and puddling around him and seeping away into the carpet until he was left with plain ol’ relieved anger. “What the hell was that, Ruth? Jeez, I thought you were going to go right over, I nearly crapped myself! I barely touched you! What the bloody hell…”
Ruth dropped all her diamonds at once. It was like a plate had been smashed, shards all over the table top. But these diamonds were cloudy, a dank brown colour and dead-looking and made a horrible dull thud as they hit the table instead of an elegant and enticing plink.
“Oh no.” The panic he had felt earlier seeped back out of the carpet and crept its way up Max’s body as he stood rooted to the spot and unable to comprehend what was happening.
Ruth started to leak.
All the glitter and colour that was inside her tubing and tunnels started to pour out of a single hole. Max darted forward and plugged it with a diamond in roughly the place he thought the leak was. It held, but his relief was short lived. The table started to shake, muddy diamonds bouncing everywhere and intermingling with the beautiful ones, and another leak sprung. Max plugged it with another diamond, muddy or clear seemed not to matter as leak after leak sprung up, pooling and puddling, far more liquid than he thought was ever possible, flooding and gushing all over his feet which started to tingle painfully, causing him to slip, his living room started to fill up, he was knee deep and crying, screaming, flooding, trying to stand, trying to plug the holes and watching the diamonds pop back off the tubes like popcorn in hot oil.
Plants tipped over and succumbed to the liquid. They glowed an effervescent green, squealed and disintegrated into a flamboyant, organic dust that settled around the edges of the ripples, their pots melting into contorted scribbles that floated and then sunk slowly, horrifically, dragging glittery swirling sink-holes in their wake.
As Max watched, his voice deserted him. His thoughts deserted him. He was absolutely alone with this thing he didn’t know how to help, that he destroyed, that he had used, that he didn’t know what it even was…
Max sunk to his knees, splashing in the thick, glowing matter. The light got brighter and brighter until he couldn’t see, his eyes burned as he covered them with his hands. Ruth was putting out a near-inaudible piercing keening and low rumble that demanded that Max listen but, ears ringing, he couldn’t hear his own screams through the noise, his own begging prayers. Flames started to lick at the edges of his body, when he inhaled the air it was ice cold and thin, Ruth was setting the room on glittery fire around him and it was terrifying and magnificent and he was going to drown unless he did something.
Something.
He submitted, dropped his arms, accepted, sobbing, as Ruth and her fiery ocean rose up and burned his chest, his neck, his lips, flowed into his mouth.
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let you bleed out, please stop now or we’re both screwed! Tell me how to fix you! Tell me what to do!
Please stop now.
Please stop
now
pl