Disclaimer: I am NOT shitting or willing to undermine any woman's choice during labor, pregnancy or motherhood. If things that I find irritating are your cup of tea I totally support it, as long as you don't push it on other people.
I'm sick of people trying to "console" me because I will have a planned C section and try to convince me that "I'm still going to be a real mom". Thank you but I never doubted that. You can keep your condescending to yourself.
I'm sick of people telling me how BRAVE AND STRONG I am because I chose to to have a donor conceived child on my own after a difficult divorce and 9 year marriage. Thank you but I am not here to inspire or impress you. I'm here to live my best life in the circumstances I cannot change. "You're so brave and strong I could have never done that!!!!" is a nice way of saying "Wow your life sucks but you're still fighting, I hope I won't have to experience it though", I don't need that. I am a mom just like every other mom, the fact that I don't have a partner is circumstantial. Lots of people don't have my level of professional fulfillment but I don't tell them "Wow it's so brave and strong of you to choose not to pursue your career but instead have 3 kids with your college boyfriend and be totally dependent on him financially, I personally could have never done that", why is it okay the other way around
No I don't need you to comment on my future child's astrological sign. No I don't need a natal map thank you very much.
I'm sick of people pushing this breastfeeding Uber alles narrative to absolute absurdity. I AM aware of BF benefits and will try my best to successfully implement it and keep it going for as long as I can, but Jesus Christ! The level of drama I hear from people all the time about these insane battles they fought for the sole sake of continuing breastfeeding while convincing me I will have to do the same is crazy.
No, being a mom is not "my only job from now on". My job is my job, I'm an engineer. I may or may not be able to go back to work (remotely at least) as soon as I wish I will. Yes I may need to take a longer break than I ideally want. It can happen and I will suck it up, and deal with it like an adult, because the baby is my primal responsibility and sacrifices have to be made. But I will never NOT want to continue doing the job I've been doing for a decade now and studying for another 6 years.
No I didn't stop reading news and discuss politics as soon as I got pregnant. No the baby is not the only thing that matters for me now, I'm not brain dead, I still care about, you know, STUFF.
I can go on and on like that. I'm sorry if it's a bit all over the place but at 30w I finally snapped. Needed to vent and get it out of my system. I went to first aid courses today and it was fine, moms and dads to be were all really nice people, but I got a bingo of all the most annoying shit during the lunch break (astrological sign, natal map, you're so brave, fight for BF, forget about your job, etc, etc).

I have pretty severe OCD and the main theme right now which is absolutely destroying every aspect of my life is existential OCD, the fact that I'm conscious and have thoughts 24/7 that I can NEVER escape gives me the absolutely worst confusion and sense of panic ever, the fact that I'm essentially "stuck" in existence and my own body feels like the actual scariest possible feeling any lifeform can possibly have
The question is how can I ever get better through therapy and medication when the thing that is scaring me is so deep? It's literally just existence and consciousness that terrifies me, and unfortunately medication and therapy are both a part of existence and existence IS the thing that is terrifying me so much, there is literally NOTHING in existence that can sooth me or help me because anything in existence that can is a part of existence itself, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I genuinely feel like I have absolutely no choice but to end it because my brain just cannot stop freaking out and panicking over it's own consciousness
Do I need to get myself sectioned or something? (Not that there's any point because the psych ward is also part of existence)

Hello, here are some visualizations to help silence your mind.
First visualization

1. Take three deep breaths and imagine your brain is like a galaxy and all your thoughts are stars. Imagine the stars disappearing one by one as you relax.
   
2. Relax every part of your body one by one, starting with your face. Move to the next part of your body with every deep breath, neck, shoulders, spine, hips, etc.
   
3. Divide this into 10 sections. Each time you move to the next section imagine the number flashing three times in white. So — 10 10 10 — relax your face — deep breath — 9 9 9 — relax your neck — deep breath — etc. Do this until you end at your feet.
   

Second visualization
This one I created and it works very well for me.

1. Wait until you’re about five minutes in before you start, let your mind wander without judgement.
   
2. Now imagine you are a light being floating above a huge ocean, you can’t see the land anywhere. This ocean is your unconscious mind. You look down at your body, its glowing bright white everywhere.
   
3. Submerge yourself into the ocean of your unconscious. As you descend, the water gets less and less clear; notice the water going from clear to dark deep blue. You are descending slowly, maybe taking rests in between your descents. Maybe being visited by some beings who want to help you on your way down.
   
4. You are so deep in the ocean now that everywhere is pitch black. You can hold your hands up to your face but you can’t see them, you can’t hear anything but your own heartbeat. You’ve reached the bottom of the ocean floor and it’s very peaceful and easy to let go.
   

Please try these and let me know how it works for you!

TW//A lot of self hate about being ADHD and thoughts of suicide. I'll label the suicide portion.
I can't handle being disabled anymore. I feel like such a waste. I hate myself. I can't wake up without being worried that I'm forgetting something or that I've missed a due date or that I'm behind on work or a million other things, but it also makes me feel so stupid. I feel like a moron. Everything I do is so hard. I don't comprehend the things I read, I don't process the things my professors say in lectures either. I'm at college learning nothing. I have no motivation to be here. I have no desire to be try other than the fear of failure and when I finally get some motivation, I can't focus long enough to actually get any work done. I want to scream. I'm not an idiot. I know I'm not but I can't help but feel like one when everything I do is so much harder for me than everyone else around me.
I feel like I'm doomed to mediocrity. That I had all this potential to be someone special and make a difference in the world, but instead I've been given this limiting force that I can never escape no matter what I try. I'm trapped under the boot of my own brain. I'm socially awkward because of the anxiety that being a hyperactive kid with an abusive support system gave and I can't even make myself focus on getting better.
I hate myself and every part I hate comes from the fact that I can't operate in the bounds of normal life even though I try. I have such deep internalized abelism that all I ever want is to be surrounded by "normal" people, but "normal" people find me obnoxious or just not enjoyable to be around. It makes me hate the people I can get along with. It makes me dislike my girlfriend who I love because we have so much in common. Any time I see her ADHD manifest in something I don't like about my own ADHD, it makes me feel frustrated at her when I have no right to be. I love her, but I'm not good enough for her. My own self hate is going to rub off on her and I can't do that to her. I don't want to break up and hurt her, but I don't think a relationship is healthy for either of us so long as I'm still hating myself in a way that makes me upset with her. Beyond that, I find my friends annoying because they remind me that I'm also disabled.
Suicide Section Below:
I feel powerless. Every part of me I want gone is a permanent fixture of my life. I don't like who I am, but being anything else would feel inauthentic. I would just be a caricature of the kind of person I wish I was without ever actually achieving it. I just want to give up. I don't feel like there is any hope for happiness in my future because even learning to love myself for who I am is going to be inauthentic. Such a large part of me wants to die and be free of it. I can't because I know if I did, so would my sister, and then my mother probably would as well. My father might even, though I'm less worried about his doing it. He's got a wife and a step son, and my cousin who might as well be his adopted son. I want to die, but I can't so instead I just march through life being weighed down by a force I can't escape. If I had money I'd move across the world. Go live a whole other life in a whole other country. Leave everything behind me and never have to think about it again, but since I don't, all I have is suicide, and I don't even have that because I can't drag other people down with me. I'm trapped in a life I hate that I can never truly change because the parts I hate are inherent to who I am. I just want to fucking get out. I just want to fucking get away. I want to be a different person but I can't.
Suicide Section Over:
I can't handle being disabled anymore. I wish there was a surgery or a medication that just made me normal. I hate living like this so much. I don't feel like I can do it anymore.

I know your YMMV but from personal experience, did you lose your appetite for days you know after being elbows deep in a decomposing human body? had seen a video on VICE about a FP who doesn’t particularly like steak anymore for example because the cutting reminds her of when the brain is sectioned. Any personal insights would help. Also kinda weird question, do you guys eat your lunch inside the morgue? Thanks!

I (31f) am guilt ridden for hating the thought of taking care of my (55f) ailing mother.
Long ass story and tons of rambling. I'm doing this on a throwaway account.
I was conceived during one of my mothers many short-lived relationships ( her words, not mine) she never intended to be permanently attached to my bio dad nor him to her. Which really didn't turn out to be a problem for him because I've only seen him a handful of times during my whole life. (he is a whole other thread)
My mother has made it her mission for my older sister and I's entire life to know that she really didn't want children, especially if they were going to be girls. The number of times throughout our lives, where we were told this or that wouldn't have happened if we were boys or things would have been better if she had never had children at all. Is outrageous. She reminded us often that the only thing we had going was pretty faces and okay bodies. That JJ needed to watch it with her weight, or she'd look like a linebacker. Mine was, that I wasn't academically inclined like my sister she probably could make it without a man, but it was life or death that I stay pretty because I was too dumb and lazy to work. Even going so far as to say, we stole her beauty, youth, and all her life opportunities from her. She believed that boys wouldn't have done that, they were easier to handle, more respectful, less demanding of material things, would grow to provide/ protect their mother and she wouldn't have worry about them being sexually misbehaved.
Any and everything was a competition between not only my sister and I but my mother between us. We weren't smart enough. We weren't feminine enough. Our hair wasn't perfect. Our clothing, the way we spoke, we weren't likable, lady like, and we would never get husband's being so opinionated/ un womanly. But when one of us did something that she liked, it was used against the other to "motivate" us to do better. By the time I reached my mid to late teens, I had my first sewer slide attempt. After many years of her mental badgering, an dealing with being sa'd ( I was told by mother that I wasn't the only girl who'd ever been touched I should be over that) had me in a bad place for a long time. It left me with scars up both arms, depressed, and paranoid, especially around men I didn't know..my mother " Now people know somethings wrong with you, and men don't wanna deal with that shit"
She was almost unhinged when my sister became old enough to decide which parent that she would like to live with and if she wanted to visit the other at all. She ended up living with her father for almost three years, and it was the worst. My mother began pulling me in tighter away from my bio dads family during this time, even though he wasn't around they wanted me to be. But her logic was that they were only doing that because they felt bad for me. That his mother was an alcoholic who should be around children anyway. After almost a year of avoiding then eliminating all contact with them, I didn't see them again. And to this day have no clue were are how to( I don't even know my father full real name she wont give it and has never told anyone who is still living I've tried all I get is a nickname ) She became obsessive with knowing all the inner workings of my sister father's home. Constantly reminding me that JJ abandoned her family for the man who mistreated her mother and I was to never be like JJ. Anytime my sister came home to visit was a s*** show of them arguing, claiming her father was brainwashing her to keep her from her mother.
She had no qualms about saying this to JJ and reliving the horror of being a teen mom to a black mans child in the south. How much she had to suffer because of her, and him being inattentive as a teenfather. How much their relationship was solely based on her getting pregnant. He only wanted to deal with her now that she was almost done being raised. Finally, that led to JJ not coming back for months at a time. During those years, I became my mother's little "buddy", informing her of where my sister was, how she was doing mentally, emotionally, academically and socially, especially if it had to do directly with her father. All of that continued even into my JJ, returning to my mother's home after her father got a traveling job and offered for her to stay full-time with her stepmother and stepbrother. But JJ wanted to come back to the city.
The real fun began, My older sister had years away from my mother to build walls, actually get a sense of what manipulation was and how to defend herself against it. And starting teaching me how. Like my mother wasn't gonna die if we stayed after school to join choir, rap music wasnt the devil, the gates of hell weren't opening because JJ wore a crop top, the world wasn't gonna burn down because I cut my bangs or either of us gained ten pounds. Again, all of this became hot ammunition for my mother. Especially the weight gain and appearance side of things, my mother didn't approve of me adapting my sister tone with her. I was tired of crying all the time and feeling absolutely awful about even being alive and allegedly ruining my mother's life and making her existence miserable.
We were developing and growing into women that she didn't visualize us being. My mother has been all about herself and what other people think about her from the moment she could understand the notion. She would an still does live beyond her means all the time to keep up the front that we practically she was better than everyo, e including family. So of course she couldn't have whatever nonsense we were up to.
The constant love bombing hate train continues, and we both had just learned to go with the flow. After graduating high school, my sister moved out the week after she stayed close in the neighborhood. I would hide out in my room when I'm not working to escape our mother when she is at home. Mynannies' place was where to be, I even lived there for a year after my sister left. I found a cool friend in my step-dad she married when I was entering middle school,who until I had graduated spend ninety-five percent of his time out of the house at work and had now gotten a real look at my mother the more time he spent with her. She blamed me personally when he remarried and had small children because I was being spoiled rotten to the point where he didn't want to have kids with her because "he" believed it would bother me. In reality, she had her tubes tied and burnt. We would go every weekend he was off to get books and coffee. It was like own little therapy from her. He eventually told me one weekend that he needed a break from it all. He left to stay with family after convincing from his mom, Grandma Gia. I don't blame him he was providing everyone with the healthcare, utilities, clothes, food, spending money, and whatever else we wanted or needed. While she was in charge of rent and her cigarettes. She asked for a divorce if he wasn't going to live with his wife. What was the point? He gave it to her.
He would still come see me and even took me on a trip during the divorce, which pissed her off good. After we came back in town, she couldn't hold it in. As I was getting my bags out the car she, starts screaming to where God and everybody outside in our neighborhood could hear about how he would rather spend time with her daughter, then with his wife and how it had always been that way that's why they ended up even filing for divorce. He never wanted to take her on trips or buy her favorite things. Then looked me dead in my face and said are you fucking my husband? Turns to him and says are you fucking my daughter?
That was the real start of me seeing blatantly, How demented, manipulative and just all around horrible she was. I was just shell shocked that's what her perverted brain could come up with the man that I saw is my protector an father figure during some of the most excruciating violating times of my life you accuse me of sleeping with. And that was the only reason you could come up with as to why he wanted be around me?
Skip around through my life where I got engaged at twenty two and was constantly harassed and got left threatening depressing voicemails of how I had forgotten I had a mother and didn't care if she died because I found a man to put a ring on my finger. That relationship did not last long after her constant calling and visiting his job to figure out my whereabouts. I had to return home after that relationship ended to get myself together financially. She told me that she had thought about committing suicide because nobody loved her. That I had gave her life purpose by coming home. Which blew my mind because Firstly, I was going through some of the most depressive months of my life, losing someone that I thought would be my husband and the father of my children because of my mother's constant harassment. Secondly my entire life you've told me how much of a burden I have been. I called my sister who I now know at the time was going through the worst domestic situation and she helped me get away from that quicker than I could have alone.
I got a well-paying job got my own place to stay my own vehicle. Thank whatever believe in.
And despite all of that, I still from a very young age even into my mid twenties desperately wanted a mother that wanted me and I could have a good healthy relationship with. I had friends that had loving Mother's, kind mother's , parents that wanted them around and participated actively in, their upbringing, so why not me? Even after I found out from relatives and my sister ( With the paperwork proof and photographs of my adoptive family who were there at my birth and named me) that I was originally to be aborted, but I was too late in term, so adoption was the other option. But she was guilted out of it by our family. I have offered to take her to therapy sessions. My therapist, having reached out to her with no response. She has no belief in it. She thinks it's for the weak minded and that there's nothing so wrong with our family. My mother is of the opinion that we were just unappreciative children because we could have had crack addicts for parents or she could have been a prostitute selling her kids for drugs. Or just left us with our fathers.
Now to present day, I am 31. My sister gone. I am her only hope of having someone take care of her in terms of children. She quit her job of 30 years of she could retire and travel. She was tired of working which is fine. And no, she did not have some nickel and dime job. She worked for the local government. Like my mom got presented with a seal of the city when she retired, they printed it in a news letter. She blew all that money. Gambling, traveling up-and-down the coast, going on shopping sprees, buying herself a new car. And of course, her expensive cigarette addiction. Again, all good and well, it's your money do with it what you want, you're an adult, but when you know you have crippling diabetes, a heart condition and suffer from chronic seizures, I would have saved that money for my health care.
She has now suffered from four strokes and is losing her ability to live on her own. Driving terrifies her, she can't stand up to go on a full grocery trip,she is on fixed income of disability and has medicaid. Now I am not completely heartless when she had her first stroke.I offered to move her out of her deteriorating home and in with me for free. Like everything free. She argued that she did not want to live with a roommate and in a rental. I told her that you need somebody taking care of you. You fall you have vertigo and spells of where you can't recall time. You need someone monitoring you. She still said no. I have gathered a community around her of family including her older sisters. They come and help take care of her.Make sure she is bathed.Gets to go to the grocery store.Covers that doctor's appointments when I can't be off work to do those things. One of her sisters is a full time stay at home wife and has offered her to come live out on her property that they own and have her own section of the house to herself. Just so that they know that she is being monitored all the time. I have even had some of her nieces and nephew's. My cousins offer her a home to live in and full-time. Healthcare with them all she has to do is stop smoking and take her medication the way she should. That is a no go for her. Of course, she has smoked my whole life, which I understand it is an addiction but when it comes down to your livelihood, I think she would want to make the sacrifice of keeping some of her ability to be independent while having the help she needs.The way she won't even go to the neurology appointments or physical therapy that she has been assigned.
Our latest blow up has been over in the span of two months I got into a relationship with my friend of three years turned boyfriend, I lost my job and the saddest part my close cousin lost his inner fight. This kicked up this narrative in her that I should be more appreciative of the family I have instead of trying to prioritize other people particularly men over my mother. The harassing phone calls and text messages have begun again. It's to the point where I just want to change my number. I'm a unloving child that I would rather be laid up under a man than with my dying mother. I'd regret not seeing my momma. The guilt would eat me alive before I realized I didnt have family anymore. You have tons of men and jobs but you got one mother don't waste it. I'm unemployed an have nothing better to do come see your momma you must not love me. See what happened to your cosuin thats why you need to be checking on family instead of being out and about( that part she said at the dinner we had before his funeral, her older sister quickly told her thats not a childs job to stay under their parent their whole life. Once several of her cousins and even my uncle who's son we are grieving agreed she was quite for a few weeks) the list of shit she has said goes on and on.
I've been unemployed for about 2 weeks now and got a job through one of my friends running his business while he's away on a trip. It's in my mother's neighborhood. So I stopped by there to check on her. The first thing at her mouth was. It's nice to know you remember you had a mother. Then she proceeds on a fifteen minute tirade of I must have been too busy getting dicked down to come check on her knowing that she has a ingrown toenail infection. My lease is ending soon. So I need to figure out if I'm moving home or not because she needs help. What was I going to do if they chopped her feet off? I tried to stay cordial and be as unaffected as I possibly could, by just reminding her that I couldn't stay long that I have been trying to get a job (I'm sure we all know life is expensive and I can't be unemployed for long even though my boyfriend has offered to take care of me. I still like being able to be independent.) I told her it was getting late and I needed to go balance his books before. It was too late to turn them in. She then screamed at me. It's not gonna kill you to sit down and rub my f****** foot. I did it and quite huffy too. I have not answered her phone calls since I left.
I feel so guilty that no one should have to die alone or feel like they are unloved. But with the same respect every time I come over to do anything for her even before she was sick. There would be something that I was not doing properly for her to be called out of my name to be screamed at to be mentally and emotionally punished. Because I am not in awe of my mother. I love her because she is my mother but if she were a person I met on the street and had to endure just a drop of the stuff that she has said done and will not take accountability for. I wouldn't want to speak to her for the rest of my life.
I have personally out-of-pocket. Paid tons of money for therapy just to get to the point of realizing that this isnt my fault. That has absolutely nothing to do with me, something or someone caused the breakdown of her internally.
Side note my mother's parents were phenomenal people. They contributed to the level of love and compassion that my sister and I were able to keep within ourselves. My Nannie and Pawpaw never met a stranger. When I say love was grown in my grandparents house. I mean it from the ground up. Every holiday, we would have about twenty to thirty people show up to participate and just being together because of my grandparents, sense of community and giving. I stuck by my Pawpaw like glue and JJ loved my Nannie to death.My Pawpaw passed from cancer right before freshman year of high school and Nannie was never the same she passed four years after I graduated. Really do credit them with being the foundation of trying to undo the nature and nurture of my mother.
I am truly sorry for being all over the place. I just wrote it out as it came back to my mind.
So aitah for not wanting to move home and take care of her?

My background: I am a construction consultant working on cost management. The experience might give me some insight into a predictive approach but not so much on agile.
I only spent three weekends and five weekdays (after work from 5 pm) preparing for the exam. I watched only 1/10 of Andrew Ramdayal’s last year to fulfill the PDUs requirement since I found it boring and superficial in nature (Sorry, AR).
Here’s what I did to pass with a short period of preparation:
1st Weekend: I went through Third3Rock’s notes and watched David Mclachlan’s 150 PMBOK 7th questions.

• Third3Rock’s notes allow you to go through key concepts required in the exam, instead of spending hours going through lengthy PMBOK/PDUs courses where most of the principles are similar in nature. 

2nd Weekend: I watched David Mclachlan’s 200 Agile,150 Waterfall Questions, PMBOK 6th and PMBOK 7th video at 2x.

• David Mclachlan’s videos are not similar to the exam compared to Study Hall, but it’s a good interactive way to learn the key concepts and give you the mindset to analyze the questions. 

3rd weekend & 5 weekdays after work: Study Hall Practice Questions + Mini Exam + 1st Full Exam and go through Third3Rock’s notes again.

• I scored 68% in Practice Exam with most expert questions wrong and 50% of difficult questions wrong. I kinda expected since I didn’t have a good foundation of knowledge. Then I scored 65% in the mini exam. My 1st Full exam is 79% with expert / 88% without expert. • I recommend doing Practice Questions once without going through them again since some questions are not well-written or the concepts are out of the syllabus. Mini exams are more difficult than the full exam. Don’t be intimidated by the score. Go through all the questions no matter if they’re correct or not. 

Exam Day: My exam started at 10 so I woke up earlier to do 20 practice questions to activate my brain.
The actual exam is divided into three sections with 60 questions each. Most people on Reddit recommended an 80/75/75 approach, but I would recommend each of you determine based on the exam difficulty. My first section is incredibly easy so I only allocated 75 minutes. I found the second section to be the most difficult.
StudyHall is the best material to study, since I found quite a lot of exam questions similar to the StudyHall mini exams and full exam.
The key to success is practise. Identify the keywords, and understand why you are right/wrong. Don’t be deterred due to your background. The exam is irrelevant to your job.

Hey Everyone,
Passed the exam with AT/AT/AT earlier this week. I got a lot of useful information out of this sub so hopefully, some of these tools. tips, and tricks can help someone going down the PMP path. :)
Taking The Exam
So as you know, the test is 4 hours long 180 questions. For pure test taking suggestions I would recommend the below.

• Do it in person, if possible.
  • The test centers are quiet, nice, and in my experience, friendly.
  • Doing it online, while flexible, leaves many variables open that doing it in person will solve. Most importantly, you're not subject to a proctor you can't see and talk to in regards to whatever concerns they/you may have.
• Take your breaks
  • You get two break, use them. It's an important way to help you rest your brain for a bit and move around. It is extremely hard to focus on 180 questions at one time over several hours.
• Show up early to the testing center
  • At least at my testing center, it was really busy. Show up early so you're among the first to check in and get going. Helps prevent anxiety as well.

Test Itself

• About 5 drag and drop questions
• About 5 multiple selection questions
• 1 graph question
• 2 calculation questions where you have to break out the calculator
  • No formula questions
• About 50% agile & 50% Predictive/Hybrid
• 2 questions I wasn't super confident in / didn't know
  • Some very specific agile questions that probably would be "Expert" in StudyHall
• Completed in 3 hr 30 min
  • Spent about an hour on each set of 60 questions
  • After completing a set I'd spend ~10-15 min reviewing my answers. Only changed a few of them after re-reading the questions.

Test Observations

• Lots of conflict resolution questions .
• Could be me but, things seemed to get progressively harder each set of 60 questions. Nothing unsolvable or things you weren't able to reduce.
• Lot's of questions to see if you'd follow the process.
• A few questions to see if you'd follow the law / regulations.
• Found that highlighting everything burned too much time. Ended up only highlighting questions that were long or complex.
• The strikethrough tool is your friend. Use it to eliminate bad options. I found that I was able to knock out at least 2 options almost instantly.
• Test tries to steer you towards escalating the issue to sponsoleadership. In very very rare cases, at least in the exam, should you escalate.
• Lots of questions on change management.
• Large emphasis on communication and stakeholder management.
  • Communicate, communicate, and communicate.
• StudyHall more or less directly aligns with the exam.

Exam Question Tips

• Always assess and then look for opportunities resolve
  • Resolve issues collaboratively with the team, if possible
• Always communicate and be an active listener. Confirm that your message is received and understood.
• Solve issues early and don't let them escalate.
• Prioritize legal issues and concerns. Can’t generate business value if you can’t get your stuff to market.
• Motivate, facilitate, and be a leader for your team.
• Train and mentor team members.
  • Enable mentoring, training, or shadowing for team members needing help with quality, developing experience, or direction.
• Ensure requirements are clear and if stakeholders don’t know what they want, help facilitate and guide them to a project vision and what they want out of it.
• Understand how to run a sprint (planning, stand ups, review, retrospectives, etc).
• Prioritize the backlog to deliver business value.
• Identify risks (both positive and negative) and put them in a risk register, identify risk responses.
• Include all stakeholders and ensure they receive communications.
• Always follow the plan, if you need to change the plan, conduct change management process
• Follow the contract and be a good business partner.
• Be conscientious of cultural differences and practices.
• Resolve conflicts collaboratively.

Materials Used
Andrew Raymadal 35 Hr. PMP Exam Prep Course (Udemy)

• Took notes on all of the sections, reviewed notes after completion
• Ok for covering the major sections but polishing was done elsewhere
• PM Mindset Tips were good
• 7/10: Good for foundation but long (nothing he can do about that) and arduous. Real understanding starts after the foundation has been completed.

PMI StudyHall

• Most important tool used for my preparation. Accurately reflects what the actual exam looks like
• Bought the basic package, if I were to do this again I would buy the more expensive package and focus on that package’s expanded set of questions and practice exams
• 9.75/10

PM Aspirant Process Group Game

• Good for mapping out predictive processes and how things interconnect
• Quick and easy to digest
• Full transparency: Norton Web Protect says it's a suspicious link. I didn't have any issues with it and didn't seem to find anything that would trigger that. Up to you if you're alright with using the tool.
• 8/10

PMP Exam-PMI New Format 2024 Mock Simulator (PMBOK7 Updated)

• Seemed like 80% agile
• Useful to the extent that it exposes you to agile questions but not really reflective of the actual exam
• Really good explanations though for the questions and answers
• 8/10

150 PMBOK 7 Scenario Based PMP Exam Questions and Answer

• Awesome set of questions and answers that will closely reflect what you will see on the exam
• To be transparent, I only went through about 25% of the video since I primarily used StudyHall
• 9.5/10

The Complete Project Management Body of Knowledge in One Video (PMBOK 7th Edition)

• Covers the PMBOK in a digestible manner
• Watched it 1 time and felt that that was all I needed for this overview
• 9.5/10

Materials Aware Of But Didn't Use
Third3Rock Notes

• Apparently really comprehensive and good but didn’t want to review/pay for any more materials

200 AGILE PMP Questions and Answers - the BEST Preparation for the Exam!

• Made by the guy who made the 150 PMBOK 7 Scenario PMP question
• From what I’ve read in the subreddit, also a great tool

100 WATERFALL PMP Questions and Answers - EXCELLENT Preparation for the Exam!

• Same as above

Conclusion
Hopefully some of these tips/resources are able to help you out. Keep grinding and putting in those long hours. It will be worth it. Good luck!

Before I begin, I want to first clarify these things:

• I have NO hate towards BTS, ARMYs, etc. This post is made not to spread any form of hate. Please know that. I also know that not all fans are like that
  
• This post is made because things have gone overboard and it's been really frustrating, I've spoken to my boyfriend about this, but as he doesn't get Kpop at all, I just felt the need to rant here. I don't want to talk to my friends about this as I don't want them to judge my friend (although I am pretty sure some of our mutual friends are aware of her obsession with BTS).
  
• Forgive me if my sentences sound emotional and all over the place, I just am after what happened and I'm so frustrated with my friend
  
• My explanations might not be really detailed. I'm ranting everything out, so I'll try to recall every incident so i can explain them as much as possible. I'm crying and my brain's a bit foggy, sorry
  

Elsi* (NOT her real name) has been my close friend since we were 13. When we were in high school, I was a huge kpop fan (namely Super Junior, TVXQ). I am still a Kpop fan, but it's more of me listening and enjoying music than anything else.
When we were 22, BTS debuted. Back then, they were relatively unknown in the Kpop world. I wasn't aware of their existence, but somehow, Elsi was (she was not a Kpop fan before BTS). When she discovered BTS, she told me she "felt the need" to "feed her boys" because "nobody would feed them" and that "they were poor and starving" (YES, she said all that). Anyway, she somehow felt the need to promote BTS, so she kept sending me videos of BTS, songs, websites, pictures, etc., in hopes that I would become a fan. I did not. Don't get me wrong, I like some of BTS's songs, but I like a lot of Kpop songs in general.
Because I did not like BTS as much as she did, she started picking on me. She would laugh at me in front of our friends like a teenager, and would always say things like "You have bad taste in music because you don't like BTS!". It would drive me crazy, but as she was my best friend, I let it slide. Despite her 'teasing' and all, she would constantly spam me with BTS content. She even asked me for favours (til this day) to 'stream' BTS's music, or vote for them in awards. In the past, back in 2014-2015, she would ask me to spam singers like Beyonce, Rihanna's music videos with the words "Listen to BTS!" or "Check out (insert music video for BTS). It's great!", in hopes that all this spamming would reach more countries and hopefully, gather more fans for "her boys". I found her behaviour slightly annoying, but I chose to let it slide again, as I thought she was just going through a phase.
She would spam other singers' music videos with BTS promotions. She was even the president of some BTS fan club (if I'm not wrong, now has more than 100k followers, according to her). To her, everything BTS does is perfect and they can do no wrong.
She would even compare my real life boyfriends to BTS members. For example, once, my now ex-boyfriend and I had a fight over his friend's sister. His friend's sister bullied me and everyone knew about it including my ex. Instead of protecting me, he defended his friend's sister's actions. I cried to Elsi about it, and instead of being the good friend she was since we were 13, her response was like this,"Oh, you know my Kookie will never do that to me, if his friend's sister were to bully me. He would always protect me with his strong, muscular arms." I get that Jungkook is good and hot and all, but was it really necessary mentioning him when I was upset about my then-bf and wanted a friend to talk to?! If Jungkook noticed her one day and asked her out on a date (sorry, ARMYs on this example), I would support her 100%! But I felt it was unnecessary of her to compare my situation to an idealized version of Jungkook (they've never met in person, she's only been to their concerts but that's it).
Elsi would also compare her real life romantic relationships to the 'characters' of the BTS members. She's had a few short-term relationships, and all of them ended because those guys "couldn't satisfy her as much as the BTS members would if they were her boyfriend". She would constantly joke about how all the BTS guys would be loyal to her for life, and she's settled in life as long as she has "her boys". Again, I'm happy for her if she's truly happy with her choice, but then things got worse.
Elsi comes from a poor household. After graduating from high school at 17, she started working as a waitress. She wasn't paid well. In addition to that, she chose to leave her family home at 17, as her family had a lot of issues and she couldn't stand them anymore. If I'm not wrong, her salary used to be about $2000. Her rent used to be about $800, so she had about $1200 to use for her living expenses and bills. After becoming an ARMY, she would borrow money from friends and family, including me. At first, I thought nothing of it as I assumed she needed more money because her salary wasn't enough. I found out after that she actually used all the money she lent from me and her other friends/family to buy BTS merch. Once, she ate only plain pasta and leftovers from the restaurant so she could save up for a BTS concert. She actually uses the money to travel to different countries to watch BTS live in concert.
I decided to talk to her about her spending habits, but she got so offended and angry she started a fight. We managed to patch things up, and I made her promise to only buy what she can afford and not go to the extremes. Til today, she has not paid me the money she owed.
The reason why I decided to post this here is because, in addition to all the things that happened in the past, recently, a few friends and I spontaneously visited her flat. We've never been to her place before, so one of our friends thought of 'surprising' her, since she knows her address. When we arrived, she got really mad because we came to her place unannounced (our fault). What concerned us, though, was the fact that there were payment reminders from banks and even threats from loan sharks (or money lending places, saying her payments were due). There were also unpaid bills from last year. I'm not sure whether she paid her rent or not, but she got all sensitive when we asked.
We were shocked because Elsi actually visited Korea last month (some solo trip, apparently she went to some places that were connected with BTS members or something. According to her, it helps her cope with them being in the military and she wants to be close to them, etc.). Now I've been to Korea before and it's not exactly cheap, and Elsi looked like she had a lot of money to flex during her trip (from what I saw on her Insta). Oh, and her flat was filled to the brim with BTS merch! She even had a few copies of the SAME album from the group, sealed and covered in dust. According to her, these were too precious to open, and now that she has the internet she can stream all she wants through Spotify, Youtube, Weverse, etc.
I know I've dismissed her actions in the past, but after seeing those payment reminders and threats, I called her out when I reached home. She's now in her early 30s, like me, and while I understand she currently does not have many commitments in her life, her life as a devoted ARMY isn't exactly the healthiest. Now, I want to also add that I know not all ARMYs are like that. I know another person who is also an ARMY but she's not like that. Also, if you are rich, by all means, please do whatever you are doing.
When I called her out, we got into a BIG fight. She insisted that she still needs to "look after her boys" while they're serving in the army. She insisted that if she does not support them, they would go broke. Hell, SHE'S the one who's broke now, and all her boys are now filthy rich! I tried to calmly explain my concerns as a friend, and i suggested ways we could help her financially, but she has to know how to control herself. Instead of listening to what I had to say, she continued insisting that I would not understand, since I'm not a BTS fan. She kept insisting that she needs to support her boys, etc etc. At this point it felt like she was in a cult, instead of a fandom.
I know I shouldn't have done this, but I asked her if any of her BTS boys would recognise her if they were to see her on the streets. She hesitated, and out of anger I continued, "You devoted so much of your money and time on them, but do you think they would recognize you if they saw you?!" somehow that triggered her and she started screaming and cursing at me, saying that I'm insensitive and that I don't get what being a fan is like. She also threw insults at me, at my personal life, and all that. It was hurtful, because I never attacked her personally in any way. I was just raising a concern because I find her behaviour alarming. I've never thrown insults at her, except that part where I asked her if BTS members would recognize her irl.
To make things worse, after our fight, she started posting 'indirect' posts shading me all over her social media, bitching about me. For eg., she posted a purple square on Instagram with the caption, "Never trust friends who don't like BTS. True friends will support your choices no matter what. #FOREVERARMY" When a fellow ARMY friend of hers commented in the comments section of that post, she replied, "You know who, she sucks." with a smug emoji, and her friend responded, "Ya she sucks, BTS is better than her any time (purple heart)". It really, really hurts.
I've seen her supporting them since their debut, and it frustrates me to see how devoted she is towards them, so much so she neglected herself. I mean, what happens when the BTS members get married?! How would she feel?!
Also, I want to add that none of us friends are allowed to joke with her about BTS. She always insults us, makes fun of us and the celebrities we like, but when we say the same thing about BTS, she would go crazy and not speak to us for weeks. She's insulted some of the singers I like and song choices of mine, and I didn't mind at all. But if she were to ask me if I liked x song from BTS and my answer is 'no', she would go crazy and start insulting my 'bad taste' in music.
Anyway, I just want to get all of this off my chest. I'm exhausted, and I'm considering ending our friendship. It's just too much at this point. I'm going to go to a corner and cry now. Thanks for reading.
TLDR; My best friend is a devoted ARMY (BTS fan). Has been for years since their debut. Since becoming an ARMY our friendship deteriorated. I'm not a BTS fan and that led to a lot of fights, started by her because she couldn't understand why I wasn't 'stanning' them. She would compare my real life relationships to BTS members. She also compared ex boyfriends to BTS members. Friend doesn't have much savings, uses all her savings for BTS merch, concerts, anything related to BTS. Now in her 30s, we visited her recently as a surprise and found out she's been owing money to banks, loan sharks, etc. She recently returned from Korea after a solo trip to 'get closer to her BTS boys'. In the past, we've fought over this but this time round, I couldn't take it anymore I had a serious talk with her about it. Instead of cooperating, she argued and that argument turned into a huge fight. After our fight, she posted indirect insults about me all over her social media. It was hurtful. Wanted to rant to someone about this and get it off my chest. Considering to end this friendship for good. Gonna cry now. Thanks.

These are all my thoughts, if you disagree that is okay. All of this is completely based on the show, I haven’t read the comics or books yet. I’d like to keep everything nice and civil in the comments :)
I am not an Azula apologist, but I do have a lot of sympathy for her. This came up in avatarmemes and I wanted to fully share my perspective. I am not here to justify her actions. Everything she did was horrible and wrong and she should face repercussions. I however do not think she is the crazy evil villain. She is 14 years old. She is a child, an abused traumatized child. I don’t think she necessarily deserves redemption, but I do think she deserves help. Ozai was incredibly abusive to her full stop. The abuse was very different from the abuse Zuko experienced, but it was still abuse.
From what we know from the show, we actually have no idea if she was truly born evil or not. Her mother thought she was a monster, but she also very much neglected her in comparison to Zuko. Azula was left to her abusive father. Azula was a protege, she was very talented from the beginning. Yes that meant Ozai “favored” her to Zuko but it wasn’t good for her either. From a young age she was under her father’s thumb. He was controlling her, grooming her to be the perfect daughter in his eyes. She never got a chance to be anything but. She never had anyone to protect her from Ozai.
She overheard her grandfather talking about wanting her father to kill her older brother. She knew that if she ever strayed from perfect, she would be in danger. This was confirmed when at 11 years old, she watched Ozai permanently scar and banish her older brother. Yes she did look on happily, because she is her father’s daughter. That was super super fucked up. I’m not sure I fully believe it was because she is just evil. I think she had been incredibly desensitized to violence since she grew up surrounded by it. And, as long as Ozai hated her brother so much, it made her the golden child. It made her safer.
As long as she was always perfect, always obedient, she was safe from her father’s wrath. I’m going to reiterate that she is 14. Fourteen. She is a child. She has no agency. She has no ability to be a “normal” 14 year old girl. When she is training with lightning, and a hair falls out of place, she is upset and angry because she thought, she knew, it wouldn’t be good enough for her father. Ozai made sure she was his perfect little puppet. He would not let her be anything but perfect. It is evident that everything she does is for her father’s approval.
When you are living in survival mode the way Azula was, you learn to put up an incredibly good front. You learn to become the perfect presentation your abuser wants so no one knows how bad it is. If people know how bad it is, then the abuser takes it out on you. Azula learned how to be the perfect princess, fearing she would end up like Zuko or her mother.
I can’t say if she enjoyed people suffering naturally, I can’t say if she learned it from her father. We simply do not know.
But I have deep sympathy for her. I will never excuse what she did, but I can understand. I think she needs help. The funny thing about being abused as a kid, you never know what life could’ve been like if you’d grown up safe. We don’t know what Azula would’ve been if Ozai wasn’t controlling her. But she is a kid. She had no real agency over what she did, only really how she did it. If she didn’t do it, she would be punished by Ozai. She wanted her father’s love and approval, although I don’t think Ozai is capable of real love.
I would feel differently if she was an adult, if she had more control and knowledge. But she was a girl, just getting past puberty. All she’s known is Ozai’s control.
I am not saying she deserves a redemption arc, or if she’s capable of one. But I think she needs help. And only after healing from all the trauma, could we know who she actually is without anyone’s control. I’ve had sympathy for her from early on in the show and this is why.
If you made it all the way through this post, thank you for reading it :) I am sorry if it is a bit jumbled, I have a traumatic brain injury that makes it hard to collect and communicate my thoughts. I’d love to talk and clarify anything, and it’s okay if you disagree with my interpretation. It’s art after all, and we all take art in differently. Please just be kind to everyone in the comment section :)

I posted this on "Humbled by Bumble", and someone wanted our Potato Queen to read it someday, so I shall now post it here. Enjoy!
So basically I was a second semester freshman in college, just broken up with my first serious boyfriend (who was also abusive, controlling, grooming, etc. etc.), and my delulu brain decided the best way to get over that relationship was to immediately get into a new one. My roommate ("R") and I were good friends at the time -- or at least that's what I thought. She decided to set me up on a blind date with one of her friends, telling me that we would be a good couple, we shared similar backgrounds (My mom's side of the family came to the US from Germany right before the borders closed in the 1930s, he identified as German), we both like DnD, yada yada. Again, delulu brain thought this was a good idea. R arranged for us to meet at this resteraunt that was nice, but not super expensive nice. The day rolls around, and I go to the resteraunt to meet this guy (alone, because R didn't want to be there so that she "wouldn't get in our way." She also didn't want to give me his number, which again, 20/20 hindsight, was a pretty big red flag). I got there early and he was running late. R texted me to let me know he was caught up in some traffic. No problem, but after another 15 minutes I decided to order because I was getting a little hangry, and I also was feeling like my bloodsugar was getting low. I let my "friend" know that I was ordering, and to let the guy know. No response, which I find out why later. Around the same time that my food comes, the guy ("N") shows up. He apologizes for being late, but kinda snarks at me for already eating. I explain that my blood sugar was low, and that I have a seizure disorder that can be triggered if my body gets stressed out from things, such as too low blood sugar. He looked miffed, and made a comment that was something like: "R mentioned that you were like a doll, but she didn't say anything about your brain being broken too." I've mentioned this in a previous Charlotte Dobre comment section, but I have Ehler-Danlos Syndrome or EDS. Because of my EDS, I have joint, heart, lung, skin, and immune issues. While I'm pretty open when it comes to talking about my disabilities and history of chronic pain and illness, I have a zero-tolerance policy for ableism. Before I can even say anything though, N starts to talk about how hard it is to find a "perfect girl who understands her place in the world." What. The. Fuckity. Fuck. By this point, dear readers, delulu brain has long since fled the building, and all the alarm bells are going off, Purge style. I'm sitting in this booth horrified out of my mind as this man goes on this long misogynistic and racist rant, when all of a sudden I see something peeking out from his shirt sleeve (he was wearing a short sleeved button-up). I recognize what it is because I learned all about them growing up, and how they hurt and terrorized not just our family, but millions of people across Europe. Beloved readers, it was a swastika tattoo. N (which you may now see why I referred to him as that) has a swastika tattoo. The guys a fucking neo-nazi. I am on a date with a neo-nazi. I'm pissed at R, because why on Earth would she think that I would be okay going on a date with a white supremacist?! I might be German, but my family was targeted by the Nazi's for being vocal allies to Jewish people and criticizing Hilter and his views, and were eventually forced to flee or risk persecution. I was and am very vocal about being anti-oppression and pro-equality. Also, R was a Jewish black female, and it was confusing as hell why she would be friends with someone like N. Literally made no sense (at the time). At this point, I'm ready to make a crazed excuse to leave and chew out R. But unbeknownst to me, my server and some of the other staff at the resteraunt had overheard what was going on, and were making a plan to rescue me. Right as I'm about to fake a phone call to get the hell out of this shitshow, a server comes over with a glass of wine and "accidentally" spills it on my dress. I'm shocked by this, N is pissed and is yelling at the server (which as someone who was working retail pissed me off, so I started defending the server), and the server uses this to apologize and pull me to the bathroom in order to "help get the stain out." I get dragged to the bathroom where 3 other staff are (two women, one man), and the guy legit grabs my arm and drags me out a side door into an alleyway. I'm freaked out (understandably), but then he explains that his shift ended so he was going to take me home, and that this was a rescue mission (he later apologized for not letting me know in the bathroom). He says that the manager copped my meal, and was also in on it. The other three female staff plus the manager were gonna distract the guy so that I could get away, because his car was parked near the windows by the front of the resteraunt, which could be seen from the booth N and I were in. We manage to get into his car, and I'm ducking down so I can't be seen while giving this guy the address to my dorm. We get there, and I thank the guy while hustling inside to give R a piece of my mind. I unlock my door and storm in, only to find R in the act...with someone who is decidely not her "long-distance" boyfriend (he lived 2 hours away from our campus and neither of them had cars). Number one: I recognize this guy ("A") because he's a known white supremacist (while also being half hispanic, because why not I guess), has had numerous complaints filed against him for sexual assault and DV, and is super conservative (like belongs to a cult church conservative), misogynistic, manipulative, and a pathological liar, the whole shebang. Number two: We only have twin beds in our dorm, and they've pushed both of them together to make a big bed. Number three: They're doing the nasty on MY blanket that's on MY bed. Number four: I'm going to need to burn that blanket. I'm not normally a yeller, but I offically reached my "Hulk Smash" rage mode, and began screaming and cussing out R. We fought for about 5-10 minutes with the rest of our dorm watching/hearing us (mortifying R, but I was too pissed at her for all her betrayals to even care). I wasn't close to R's boyfriend, but I abhor cheaters. I was also made about the whole shitty date thing, and the fact that she thought I would be cool with that. She screamed that N was like my ex, and she thought it would be great if N and I got along, so that N, R, A, and I could go on double dates and whatnot. I yelled back that my ex was a horrible person (the first time I actually admitted that out loud), and that I never want to date someone like that ever again, nor would I wish that kind of person onto anyone else. Our dormmates were equally pissed at R while I dragged all the dirty laundry, since we were at a very liberal college, and most people also dislike cheaters. The RA shows up, and it turns out A was illegally living in the dorms, with R sneaking him into our room whenever I was out. The cops get called, and both R and A are dragged off in cop cars. I call my parents and ask if I can come home for a while (I lived in the same state as my college, and within not fun but doable commuting distance). My parents were shocked to hear what happened, and my mom made the 2 hour drive over to come get me. Some of the other people in the dorm helped me pack some of my stuff, and even offered to store my things in their dorms until I could pick it up at a later date. I later found out that A got R to join his church, and that R really changed a lot after that happened. I'm not sure when they met on campus, but apparently R was really drawn to him and vice versa. Last I heard, the two of them are married with three kids (I'm in my mid-twenties for context, R is a year younger than me, and A is three years older than me, making him four years older than R). I'm now a loyal customer to that resteraunt, and pretty close friends with the staff and manager. The female server who spilled wine on me actually got married this summer, and asked me to be one of her bridesmaid. Ironically, the color of our dresses was called "wine." The male server is also dating and living with my cousin (who he met at my 20th birthday party that was held at the restaurant). So I guess I'm the better matchmaker. And the manager and his husband (who works as a chef at the restaurant) adopted their second child about half a year ago. So yeah, that's the full story of how I went on a terrible date that wound up with me being lowkey abducted by the resteraunt staff.

Hello all, I'm so happy this section of Reddit exists. I feel so alone in my shame from trich. I've had it since I was 15 and I'm now 26. It seemed to come out of nowhere. I started by pulling mascara "off" my eyelashes and some would come out. Kinda felt good? Then came my introduction to tweezers + eyebrow shaping - that quickly spiraled to say the least.
I feel like I've given up a long time ago because it feels unbeatable. How do I find the strength to conquer this for the rest of my life?
I've been on citalopram (celexa) for multiple years now and that seems so help my stuck brain from anxiety. The pause and ponder from having so many mental tabs open. I also feel I am not myself when I don't take them.
I just started Wellbutrin 2 weeks ago, at 150mg but just increased to 300mg. The initial feelings were great - calmed my ruminating mind. I also pulled less at 150mg. But now that I'm taking more I've been pulling like crazy! Even my widow's peak (I'm strictly eyelash and eyebrow!).
Does anyone have a story regarding either of these medications relating to your trich?

Just a preface: not posturing… last time someone commented on that… it’s not that… I just wanted to get all of this out and see if it meant anything in regards to Socionics, is all. Thank you :)
Hello. I've been seeing many people being typed on this subreddit through the answering of questions - namely this one person, recently, who wrote ALOT.
I think I'm going to keep my answers brief as it is getting a little tiring just constantly expressing myself lately - not that I do not find any kind of meaning in it, it is just that it's tiring, is all, that I keep saying the same things over and over again - similar to how I feel about art... I find such relief in the fact that I struggle so greatly with accepting things, because it means I will remain eternally rotating, like a cylinder, I will roll over everything and flatten it out.
I'll first answer the basics: I am 16 and male - although I hate that I have to include the fact that I am a male, and often just choose to identify as nothing out of spite - I am aware that testosterone influences my behaviour - likely even this very aggression - but, I don't know... I don't see any use in denying that I hate having to mention that. Everyone gives in to expression, it's implanted in me to feel a certain way... and I can deny those feelings out of some kind of individual principle, in order to maintain the idea that I remain under my control... but why? To spite who exactly? I always do that: deny myself happiness out of principle. That said: I don't exactly act on this stupid, nonsensical philosophy in a physical way - I never do! I always say one thing, am true to it inside and then I completely release it in the moment and forget all about it... that's not quite true... it always lingers, I suppose.
Maybe I don't need these questions after all; I find it unbelievably easy to rant, on and on and on; truth is: I don't think I'm great a listener at all... despite being so quiet. I am always so obsessed with this one thing, and it is all mine.
It's honestly my fatal flaw: brain fog and an absolute rejection of everything... I mean, I suppose I evaluate it all... whenever a novel idea is thrown at me, my first reaction, in all honesty, is to hate it. But, that's slightly off-topic if I am honest... I was going to say that I simply cannot let go of certain ideas that permeate my mind - they're always there... and I'll be damned if I cannot find a million different, vague ways to connect them back to that one thing, the very thing that irks me because each and every piece of literature goes straight back here - I've likely left it unresolved and that is why.
Every word links back to that... it is my saving grace and yet the source of all my turmoil: I wish to express the struggle of its existence; I do not love! I hate love! But that very hatred, and the way that I struggle and fight my own existence, the way that I will not accept my nature, that ardour to fight is what I live for! The very thing that torments me... but obviously, it's really the metamorphosis of this ardour... and how after absolutely draining myself of all that pent-up energy, I can finally accept - and that, in itself, was not even my doing, but the fact that I am human! Physical! But perhaps it was my doing! And that entire battle was my accepting this metamorphosis and stirring and writhing in order to create myself anew. It is so layered - to me, maybe not you; I wouldn't doubt that no one reads up to here.
I can't even imagine myself existing if I am entirely honest... I don't know what I am, I simply cannot pinpoint anything anymore. I feel so much hatred, but I know all of that hatred will simply be channelled into a more compelling love- not love, acceptance... letting my arms go limp and nature take it's course. So that is the very reason for the hatred: love...
I feel I lose interest quickly in things... I am inquisitive in my own way, but only if I already know a lot about the content - or if it REALLY interests me. I was at the library with my Dad, and each and every book I picked up, it reminded me of something else - this kept me entertained for an hour; at a shop full of gemstones and minerals, however, this would not likely be the case.
I have loads of ideas... and I despise that I have to fight for survival - that is what life feels like to me: a constant fight for survival... and the physical part is the hardest. I have an incredibly fatalist mentality and was born with seemingly absolutely zero tenacity - I cannot endure even the slightest mark on my skin.
I have lots of ideas though - as I said... they're mostly themes and struggles in my life: I can struggle with love, stupidly, believing it is not special - Adam did not choose Eve; what if God chose to birth one Ave of his rib in Eve's stead? Had Eve not then been born, Adam would have loved Ave, would he have not? Therefore does he truly love Eve, unconditionally? Or just whatever was available to him? If I were Adam, I'd kill God for that betrayal.
What’s more: I feel I am an awful writer… I just find that all the other writers - everyone that I admire, that is - are so authentic and pure in their word-choice and themes… whereas I feel so contrived at all times. There’s a section, from Xiu Xiu’s ‘Apistat Commander’: ‘All this relief, it’s the oddest thing, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…’ it’s is so vague… yet so real… it’s always pleas for company that get me, like a doe… here’s another:
‘his farewell… and before my death // perhaps near by once more Ill hear // my native tongue! And someone dear, // I’ll dream, some brother, or some friend, // how, gently, over me he’ll bend, // how, tenderly, he’ll wipe my brow // clean of death’s icy sweat, and how // he’ll sing to me in undertone // of that dear country, once my own… // and so I’ll sleep - no curse, no groan!’
I think I’m torn between what happiness even means: is it to stay loyal to a cause, a philosophy, to deny oneself love and life and joy simply to stay loyal to one’s values? Because - and, again, it’s complicated - but I have such an impulse to deny everything that makes me human… it’s not just that that excites my emotions though - not in a way that I am dancing with alacrity -, it’s the journey itself… the metamorphosis and I see this rejection of the human experience as an integral part of this metamorphosis. But… again: is it best to deny myself human pleasures, to deny myself this experience merely out of precedent? Or is it best to admit that I was wrong - in a roundabout way - and give in to my urges? I’m still unsure… this kind of behaviour is never mimicked in my life, by the way; it’s never been an actual, practical problem: I don’t wake up every morning and question if I should go to college as I’m forced into it by society - although that’s a boring view… I’m focused on the spirituality of it almost… the physical, I suppose; I don’t give a damn to think about how society oppresses me. I’m aware of it! Marxism: false consciousness - ironic -, alienation of labour and whatnot… I just don’t really care. It’s my mentality that I care about; my actions are a negligible part of myself. That’s something I’ve always disagreed with: actions maketh man or whatever.
I’ll end there. Thanks to anyone who’s read this far. And please - this is the most I have ever written and by far the most expressive I have ever been publicly - so please, if you know my type - or at least have any idea - I would love to know your thoughts…

Just diagnosed 2 weeks ago after an attack of optic neuritis. My question is about the specific visual symptoms.
When I arrived at the hospital, I was describing my vision as "blurry," with a white light cutting in from the outer side of my vision, also pain with eye movement.
Since then, I had MRI of brain and optic nerve and lumbar puncture that all indicate MS. I had IV steroids and the eye pain resolved mostly (just tender now), but blurriness persists. (Also, of note, I have met with several doctors but all my questions were deferred to the Neuro, then when I meet with him it was awful and I didn't ask any questions, so I'm trying to find another Neuro.)
My experience with the "blurry" vision has been interesting. While I describe it as blurry, it's more like there's a smudge on my glasses, or a thick cloud of fog. When I close that eye, I see what looks like electricity, or like a neuron diagram, with white spots and "electric" lines zapping between the spots. (I know I am not seeing neurons, I assume it's just the nerve mis-firing or something.) And, the blurry feels like a sensation, like it's moving or flashing. Today, the "blurry" seems worse, and I think the electricity-looking visuals are happening while my eye is open. I love looking at them with my eyes closed, but with it's open, there's a sense that things are moving or flashing and it makes me feel very uncomfortable.
My questions are... Does anyone else have these strange visuals? Will I get used to them as they heal? I don't want to patch that eye because I don't want to lose function (am I crazy for thinking that?). On top of this, I am very tuned into the sensations in and of my body, so this is all-consuming and distracting, and causing me to feel very emotionally fragile. My biggest question is can I do anything to distract from it?
Thanks in advance!

I've decided I want to start doing in depth reviews of books I read, gather my thoughts and flaws about them and then seek recommendations based on how much I enjoy the books!! I'm a little behind on this books as I only realised these reviews would be valuable to me at like chapter 6 of Full Brutal
THERE WILL BE SPOILERS
Reflections

• I hate hate hate the name of the teacher being 'Bob'. Genuinely annoys me because every other name in the series so far has seemed very well thought out and fitting of their characters - Although Bob feels like such a cop-out. Even a Rob would have been better. This man is an important character: A pedophile who is literally speaking as vile as Kim himself and her vehicle for this sick and twisted relationship she has with romance, and he's fucking 'Bob'. 'Amy' slaps, 'Katelyn' is amazing, Kim's boyfriend 'Derek', even 'Simone'. But GOD, 'Bob' is just so unserious.
  
• The blackmail segment kind of irritated me a little. We know Mr. Blakley is a horrible person, despite being desperate to retain his family and teaching status after banging a teen, and I just feel like the section where they try and blackmail each other is almost uncreative. I want at parts to see more from Kim than 'tehehe, but you won't do that, my silly boy', kind of behaviour. Her inner thoughts are so vapid and she is so hurtful and manipulative, that I just rolled my eyes when they just had a flirty, cheeky, 'tiff-off'. Let me peek into her vileness before the gore begins. Let it seep out of her more desperately as she blooms into this new, sadist, version of herself.
  

(About above), because currently at this point, her vileness is made up of weird experiences she has with violent media, like masturbating to 'A Serbian Film' (later addition: She watched SALO too, another kinda 'tick-box' of gross horror movies, to me), which is uncomfortable but she doesn't seem real to me yet. Her most 'real' moments are when she is with Katelyn. But she does not ever seem to let this darker self slip out at any point and it starts feeling unrelatable and 'eye-rolly'.

• I especially enjoyed the dynamic between Katelyn (?) and Kim. I think it is actually a truly mortifying example of corruption. Kim pulls very good big sister roles in this segment, I think this storyline could progress gruesomely and amazingly. Although part of me feels like Kim only has one personality outside of her 'vile inner thoughts' and 'not like other girls' acts. I want more from her. I want her to be MORE relatable. I want to feel disgusted as I realise I can see parts of myself in her, and be horrified.
  
• I began feeling a bit like the sex was a tad gratuitous. I do like her accompanying inner dialogue about how repulsive everything is but just the language usage (slit, sex, snatch, cunt) is hard to get by when at the same time she seemed incredibly naïve about pregnancy, and sex. It was furthermore frustrating that she made active comments about his role as a sex-ed teacher, went to his classes, and wasn't worried about being pregnant when a guy came inside her. She literally commented on it when they did it. I get her character is going through 'denial' when it comes to her pregnancy, but through the rest of the plot and into Part Two, I still feel like her apparent burden of a foetus is not really there for memorable reasons. We don't even get to see the impact this violative pregnancy has on her body, something she values so much. She is always slim and pretty, and her symptoms become things like her sore breasts, which bulge.
  

Kim is vain, clearly, only harming herself when desperate for a feed later on, and is very intent on maintaining her 'sexiness', but for god sakes you want her to be pregnant? Do it then. Teenage pregnancy is such an interesting topic to delve into in horror (just pregnancy itself is), so show that! Make her body swell, her stomach bulge, her joints ache. Don't just use it to make her titties bigger and to give her cannibalistic cravings. She is a corrupted woman, in the body of a teenage girl, show this impact. That message is so important to her story.

• Aftermath of the party; Honestly, I really like this personality of Kim. She's so much more than 'tehehe', I want this everywhere. She's so much more and it's scary because it's rooted in how some women treat others realistically. Some teenage bullies do victimise young girls like this, and Kim is so much more of a vile person. The realism makes me cringe from the discomfort.
  
• The spontaneity of the first murder causes a lot of intrigue as to how and if she could even get away with this. I'm also not even mad that Mr. Blakley's dead, seeing as he was a pedophile. I won't comment on her personality in these moments again but it was bordering on 'tehehe', and it's a little frustrating. As someone who was an edgy teenage girl, I want to feel more than this.
  
• It was at Chapter 18 that I realised how irritatingly convenient Kim's dad being away is. Her wealth, her private loft, her ability to buy phones and her sheer resources take me out of the story a lot. In fact, she buys a lot of incriminating things, duffle bags and the phones which she uses to abuse Katelyn.
  
• It took until chapter 21 that the pregnancy was taken up as a TOPIC again. It's frustrating how little it has come up, and I find it very irritating she only refers to the baby as 'fuck-demon'. It's just a little exhausting - there is an uncreatively surrounding this baby. The story could be so much more already. I rambled about it before so I wont further here.
  
• Derek literally fell into her lap. I don't know if I like HOW he came into her talons, but genuinely I enjoyed the gore considerably. Cannibalism is my favourite trope, and especially in women - and it was well described. I wish the stakes were higher, though. Derek was honestly kind of a bit of a nothing-burger to me so I didn't exactly feel much sadness for him. I admire the writing style of this author, it has a poetic-ness.
  
• There are a few awkward pop-culture references that take me out. Drake, Juliette has a Gun, Gucci, etc. I don't even know what to say about it, I just find that it exceptionally takes me out of the rhythm. Speaking of things that irritate me about references, calling her vagina 'sex' is really irritating.
  
• What she gets away with is insane. I'm saying this after she has killed Derek, had a guy eat her out in the presence of his body, and then dissolved him, burying his bones in the Blakley's back yard. And somehow she is not entirely closing open ends. Things are wild. Way back, she bought drugs from a student (Zach) who is known to sell drugs. spun a story about Derek drugging Katelyn. I know EVERYONE in this school is terrible but it perplexes me that Zach OR ANYONE didn't say anything about HER BUYING DATE RAPE DRUGS. Darn, even the school dealer is a bad person?
  

It connects to how much people just LOVE Kim. Like everyone absolutely adores Kim, whether they're mentioned or not. It just makes my brain explode.

• Nnnngh, very sexy wallet Chekhov's Gun.
  
• The killing and torture of Ashton and Amy was in no way long enough for as good as it was. I wish it had been more visceral, more gory, more of anything. She is about to be caught, she is about to be finished. It is about a 5 minute description of their murders. I wanted more. Amy was such a included character and I desperately wished that it went on more.
  

Part of me feels like it kind of gives off a privileged school-shooting kind of energy. I have become disappointed in that, since I'm just not sure what to think. I don't respect school shooting energy in a privileged, unrealistic and unrelatable character. Kim means nothing to me, in the end and I feel like she was unrelatable enough to not make me feel for her any deeper.
Everyone loves her, she can seduce teachers, her friends adore her and trust her despite multiple deaths which get increasingly closer to her proximity - and so do strangers. All she is became a sociopath who can only feel like a pick-me, or a 'hehehe, I'm so edgy.' I just don't know what to say, honestly. And then she becomes an amazing shooter, who gets shots on majority of who she aims at, after one round at the shooting range with her nothing dad.
As I write this I am listening to her final rampage in the town. I just don't respect Kim's character enough to be horrified by her actions. It's hard because I do enjoy the writing style, and I think the author can do a lot when it comes to impressionable descriptions of violence and gore. But unfortunately I just am kind of disappointed by Kim herself.
Amy, Katelyn, darn Simone all had considerably more vibrant personalities. Kim just does not scare me. I'm sure there is a message about Full Brutal, specifically. And to be able to reflect on it I could come up with more but right now I have this:
To me, it's a message on teenage boredom, cruelty, mental health and a vile version of a 'coming of age' and loss of innocence. It feels like a 'Mean Girls', 'Clueless', 'Jennifer's Body' but without the final sprinkle of relatability I feel I needed from a teen girl killer feature. The authors descriptions are fanciful and eloquent, but as a mentally ill woman who was once a mentally ill teen, I feel like this book could have meant more to me. In some way, it also felt misogynistic as well, in a strange way I cant explain.
I'd love to hear what others think about the 'message' of Full Brutal, although I do know a lot of splatterpunk extreme horror lit doesn't NEED to be so closely examined.
Anyway.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
7/10 stars for me - Feel free to discuss below and recommend my next book!!

It couldn't be.
I dropped the reusable bags but kept walking, kicking through the pile on my way into the store.
"Uh, Chris?" Shannon asked. "The bags?"
"Yeah, yeah." I didn't stop, leaving her behind in the lobby. I walked through the produce section to clothing to housewares to a wall of toilet paper. The Value Club had everything but an easily accessible back door.
Shannon found me sitting on a gigantic multipack of triple-ply quilted, the good stuff.
"Hi," I said, afraid to look at her.
"Hi," she said before sitting beside me. The pack was so wide, practically a couch.
"Did you know Value Club is actually the last Price Club and the managers pooled their money to keep it out of the Costco merger?"
"I did," Shannon said. "Someone usually mentions it every single time we shop here." She squeezed my kneecap. "Want to tell me why you're sitting on toilet paper? That's new."
"Can we leave first?"
My wife's dark eyebrows knitted with concern. "Chris, what's going on?"
"We have to go, Shannon," I urged her, panic beginning to rise. "The orange horse," I whispered, "is here." I covered my mouth, afraid that it might hear.
"The what?"
I wrung my hands. "Didn't you see it? It's right inside the front doors. The coin operated ride. Oh god, what if some kid rides it? That's why it's here. Of course. Why else?"
"Chris," Shannon said slowly, "you're scaring me."
"We have to go." I tugged on her wrist.
"Okay, okay, we can go." She started pulling me because I only stared helplessly at the toilet paper wall again. "Come on."
"Not that way!" I said too loud. A teen moving paper towels from a pallet to another pallet stopped and took out his earbuds. "We have to go out the back," I said more calmly.
Patiently, Shannon helped us find an exit through a delivery bay. We had to walk around the fortress of a store in the rain. I wouldn't let her go back into the lobby for the bags I'd dropped.
"Chris, come on. It's wasteful."
I'd already started the car. "You should have got them before."
"When you dropped them?"
"Yeah."
"I was more worried about my flaky husband."
"Get in the car, Shannon. There's no time." If she went back in, I would have left her behind. I love her but this fear runs deeper. She would have understood if she'd been there all those years ago with the orange horse.
When we were safe(r) in our kitchen and had changed out of our wet clothes, I opened up two bottles of wine and set them on the granite island.
"Gonna be some afternoon," she said, going to the cupboard for our wine glasses. Retreating to the living room couch, Shannon waited patiently while I lit the fireplace and drank and muttered about the heavy rain and whether or not our stunted trees by the back fence could survive another deluge.
Eventually, the alcohol wore through her patience. Shannon was not happy drunk. Neither was she mean, however. Aggressive would be more accurate. Often sexually, which I would have enjoyed if not for that thing at Value Club.
"Spill it, my love," she demanded.
I drained my glass and poured some more.
"Enough dramatics. Now, Chris."
"I'm not trying to be dramatic," I said truthfully. "I'm procrastinating because I don't want to talk about it. I don't ever want to think about it. It was thirty years ago."
"Chris…"
"Okay. Okay." I had to work up to it. "Remember Channel 14?"
She shook her head. "Not at all. Channel 14?"
"Local cable," I said. "It ran local TV shows. Pretty much all garbage, created by the best losers of Bridal Veil Lake. Anyone could have a show if they had a bit of money or a connection."
She sipped her wine, readying herself for what I was about to drop. Shannon is the best. Did I really want to bring her into my nightmares? She deserved better. We would stop going to Value Club. A childless couple didn't need to shop there. We just liked big stuff.
I put down my wine.
"Oh no you don't," she said, gripping my forearm, at first tenderly, and then pressing her sharp nails against my skin. "My love, if you don't tell me now, I intend to draw blood." She smiled and I knew the threat would be carried out.
"Okay, okay, so…"
The tip of talons dug in.
I yelped. "A talking horse! A talking horse! I was on a kids' show about a talking horse."
Nails relented, and her touch became comforting again. "The orange horse?"
I nodded. I had to sit down in one of our reading chairs by the fire.
My wife looked worried. I never acted like this. Our decade of marriage had been carefree and easy. "What happened on the show, Chris?"
"The horse could talk."
"Yes, you said that-"
"No, you don't understand. It could really talk. The hard plastic mouth moved and it could talk. The eyes too. The painted black dots rolled around in the whites." I shivered despite the waves of heat coming from the fire.
Shannon topped us up. "You never mentioned being on a kid's show before. How old were you?"
"Four. Five when it ended. I was the last kid. I can't remember the names of the others. One was Bella, I think. It called her Octa-Bella. I don't know why."
"Well, now I have to see, Chris," she said. She took out her phone.
"Good luck finding a copy of that-"
"Your mom has it in the shared drive."
Of course she did.
Shannon started watching with the volume high. Mom, damn it, she never understood the dread of that place, and didn't believe me when I said I was scared. To this day, she thinks we don't speak or see each other often because I'm so busy. The truth is I'll never stop resenting her for bringing me to Channel 14.
I didn't have to see the video on Shannon's phone to pair the awful piano intro with the black screen gradually filled with mechanical white type: The Orange Horse.
The words disappear and then, depending on the episode, there are kids, or one kid, on a stage in the dark, surrounding a shiny orange horse, a coin operated ride with a real leather saddle and reins that never helped anyone.
Poor sound quality picks up or makes an ambient buzzing that persists throughout each episode. That sound makes my stomach turn because it means it will speak soon, and it will choose.
"Hello children," says the orange horse, his voice a deep and unfriendly monotone. "Which one of you will try tonight? Have you decided? Or shall I?" The hinged mouth moves but rarely in synchronization with its words.
As Shannon watched and listened, I recalled the strong oiled scent of the mechanical beast and the way its pinprick eyes could swell until they took away the rest of the already empty scene and you would be alone with it. No one could come to save you, even had they wanted to.
Shannon paused the screen with her thumb. "Hang on, there's a timestamp thingy in the corner. Past midnight. Were you filming at night? That couldn't have been legal. Not even in the 80s."
"We weren't recording," I said, trembling so hard I could barely drink. "It was live. There wasn't a script. No rehearsals. No crew. Just us and the horse."
Shannon knelt down and weaved her fingers with mine. "My love, there must have been some people. Somebody filmed this. Your mom, for all her faults, wouldn't have ditched you with nobody."
"She brought a toddler there at midnight," I said, more angrily than expected. "You overestimate her parenting." Still, Shannon's suggestion stirred up a memory.
There had been an old man, a somber, silent guy. I don't remember him saying anything. He opened the studio doors and ensured they closed behind me.
"Have fun," my mom would say from the walkway outside. Channel 14 was a small, squat building, a brown, windowless rectangle. It'd been on the outskirts of Bridal Veil Lake beside a strip joint that never changed its sign: Grand Opening December.
The old guy would point the way to the heavy curtain at the end of a long, dim hallway. None of the track lights above were ever completely functional. They flickered and held on to burnt out tubes that seemed to emit a smoke coiling around the popcorn ceiling.
Beyond the curtain, the other kids were already there. We never talked or said hello. The orange horse ride waited, a presence demanding your attention. I remember the kids screaming when it spoke.
If you hadn't been through the ordeal already, you screamed. Some weeks there were a lot that screamed. Most times we waited for it to choose a rider in silence.
Often, the heavy oil odour would turn my stomach. There was another little girl in a knitted, pink sweater. She used to hold my hand until the night she was chosen. I never saw her again after that.
I remember her ride.
I remember prying my fingers from hers, and how she cried when the orange horse said her name. Stirrups, a rein, and the pommel were all too big for children. The saddle had been made with adults in mind it seemed.
"Erin, it's your turn to ride, time to see what wriggles inside." Its rhyme was as clumsy as its mouth. The eyes rolled and stopped with a sharp click that always made the chosen rider flinch. They were just dots of paint, and yet you just knew when the orange horse stared at you.
Her little hand slipped on the hard plastic mane as she tried to climb up. I steadied her and helped her on. She wrapped the reins around her forearms. The stirrups were too low; she couldn't put her feet through, so she tried to brace her heels against the lump of tail fused to the orange body. Others had tried that too.
The ride started gently at first, and then, without warning…
"Chris! Chris!" Shannon was shouting at me. A frantic shrieking tore from my throat. I lay on the floor by the fireplace and the waves of heat were too much. Sweat and drool and tears ran in rivulets down my face and body. I'd also pissed myself but didn't notice until I got changed later.
My wife held me without judgment and rocked me back and forth as she did when this would happen in the middle of the night.
"Oh my god, it's your night terrors," she said. "This is what they're about."
"Yeah," I admitted weakly. "Did you see it? Did you see what it did?"
She shook her head. "The ride starts and the footage ends immediately. You were so cute, but, yeah, not happy. None of the kids looked very happy."
"We weren't."
Shannon tapped her phone and brought it to her ear.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling your mom," she said.
"What? Why?" I tried to get up and found that more difficult than expected due to drunkenness and wobbly limbs full of fear.
"Hey, Jacqueline, yeah, it's Shannon." She walked off and I heard the side door swing open and bang shut. Her voice became an angry murmur through the walls. Not a nice drinker at all.
I sprawled on the couch and watched the fire.
The side door banged again and Shannon stood above me. "Let’s go." She took my hand and started pulling.
"What? Where?" I was afraid I already knew.
"To that stupid horse ride."
I leaned back, and she groaned from the sudden extra weight. "Come on, Chris. You need to see that it's just a toy, and nothing-"
"It's not, it's not. I'm not going back. We're never going there again."
"Chris, sweetheart," she said with false patience, "your mom explained it all. T You wanted to be on the show because you watched it on TV. She thought it'd be a good way for you to meet some other kids. When it was canceled, she said you were sad."
"And you believed her?" I wrung my hand out of Shannon's. "What about all the kids?"
"What about them?"
"They didn't come back…" I tried to remember Erin's ride and what had happened. The orange horse always got carried away and the kids fell off, and then… I couldn't remember.
"So you think the orange horse killed them? And your mom thought that was great and kept bringing you? Chris, be reasonable. There's no mention of this show on the internet, and nothing about kids dying on a show or going missing. Was it a weird experience? For sure. Did it traumatize you? Yes. Was a plastic horse somehow responsible or were you just so young that your mind misinterpreted details, got confused, and made it scarier than it seemed?"
"Shannon," I said, weary from her rant. "You weren't there."
"True, but where was I when I was four? I couldn't tell you. We barely remember anything before five. And what we do recall can be easily misconstrued due to our underdeveloped kid brains."
She was beginning to make sense, and I started to feel a little dumb. The fear remained, however, and I didn't want to go to Value Club. We argued some more, and came to a compromise by evening: Baby steps.
We'd pay the orange horse a quick visit after supper, and I could say when it was time to leave. The store didn't close until nine. Since we were a little drunk, we'd take a taxi. It all seemed so reasonable.
I hesitated outside the automatic sliding doors. A steady stream of customers gave us looks, some irritated, as they passed around Shannon and I. She tugged gently on my arm and whispered support.
Every instinct told me to run. That thing waited inside, just on the other side of some opaque glass. I held my breath, closed my eyes, and let her be my guide. The oiled saddle clotted the air with its odour. I gasped because I thought we were close to it.
When I opened my eyes, the stench seemed to fade, and the orange horse was still some meters away. Its long body gleamed beneath the huge lights hanging from the ceiling. I could see our faint shadows in its hind quarters.
"You okay, Chris?" Shannon asked. "You want to go?"
I kept staring at the horse's face.The pinpoint eyes were needles. The closed mouth hid teeth. There were teeth in there. Surely, that hadn't been a false memory.
"Chris?"
"Do you have a quarter?"
She opened her hand, the warm coin inside. "You don't have to. Really, I'm sorry if I was pushy. Clearly, this thing freaked you out a lot when you were a kid. Imagine how tired you must have been, filming at midnight."
I remembered the last show.
"Christopher," it said, "it's your time to ride, time to see what wriggles inside." Five-years-old and I felt a hundred. I was the last one, the only kid on the stage that night.
The orange horse had no one but me to choose. So I started climbing up to the saddle before its clunky mouth shut.
But then…
"I slipped off," I told Shannon.
"You what?" She'd been staring at the orange horse too, and had her arms wrapped around herself. "This thing is sort of creepy. No wonder you're traumatized. Gotta be worse in the dark, alone."
"When it was my turn," I said, "there was no one there to catch me when I lost my grip on the stupid mane. I fell and cut my lip, I think. Somebody came and brought me outside to my mom. She was smoking and sitting on the hood of our car. My lip got so fat."
"Why were you alone?"
"I don't know."
"Are you sure you were alone, Chris?" Shannon asked reluctantly. "I mean, it doesn't make a lot of sense. We should talk to your mom again. I shouldn't have yelled at her."
I looked at the quarter. The orange horse worked on its own. It moved without money. I tried hard to recall a coin slot, but couldn't.
Doubt gnawed hard at my certainty about the stupid ride and the whole Channel 14 ordeal. Maybe the ride just looked like the one from my memory. Yet, I'd started trembling so much, I dropped the quarter.
That's when its mouth unhinged to reveal paint chipped squares resembling teeth, and the eyeballs rotated around and around. I seized hold of Shannon as she put a protective arm in front of me.
A speaker somewhere inside the horse began a script so static ridden we couldn't make out any words.
"Okay, that is scary," Shannon confirmed. I backed away from her and the orange horse. "Chris?"
"I want to leave now. You said I could decide. I'm deciding. Let's go. Please, Shannon, please. I want to go." The voice had been incomprehensible but I felt called to ride. I'd never done mine. Only I had escaped. What had happened to the other kids?
Time to see what wriggles inside…
"Fuck this thing," Shannon said. She scooped up the quarter and advanced on the ride. I swear its attention shifted from me, and I felt so guilty, but the sense of relief wasn't mere imagination.
"Shannon," I said, "get away from it." I wanted to go closer and pull her away, but couldn't get my legs to move. "Shannon…"
She swung her long leg over the saddle and picked up the reins. "This is the most poorly thought out children's ride ever. Her feet slid into the stirrups easily because the whole saddle had, of course, been originally made for an adult. The orange horse looked small beneath her. "You're going to see, Chris. I'm going to show you."
"Shannon, don't-"
Her whole body jolted intensely after the first sway of the ride. The metal in the stirrup made contact with the steel base, where an exposed wire coiled below in the interior, electrifying the plate into an instrument of death.
She didn't look dead. I smelled her death - her cooking flesh - before I saw it.
Had I not been a coward, and tried to grab her, I'd have been electrocuted too.
Employees raced around and an old guy used a broom to unplug the ride. Shannon's body slumped over the orange horse as its eyes spun around one last time.
It's your turn to ride…
I could hear its voice so perfectly within my thoughts.
"It's happened before," my mom said, "in China. I looked it up." We were suddenly sitting inside an ambulance and I don't remember when she arrived or how we got here." My eyes felt sore. "Kids never could reach the stirrups, and even then, it was a fluke, Chris. If the steel part hadn't touched the other steel part, well, we wouldn't…" She cleared her throat, unable to finish her sentence.
"Mom," I said, "why did you put me on that show?"
"The show? Channel 14?" She pretended to clear her throat again. "You were fascinated with the horse. You begged me to take you to see it, even when they weren't filming. Even when there were no other kids there. You loved that thing."
"I didn't," I said. "It scared me. What was the show about?"
"The orange horse," she said, as if that explained it all. A paramedic appeared to check on me. The ambulance started moving. We were going to the hospital.
Time launched itself to Shannon's funeral and then an idle Tuesday afternoon of no particular importance. I held another glass of wine. I sat in one of the reading chairs. Hers remained empty.
Would always be empty.
Heavy rain poured. Those stunted trees by the fence were up to their evergreens in water.
It was just an accident. My mom had been right about coin operated rides. Apparently, they send kids to hospitals every year. Even the exposed wire thing had happened before.
I started to cry. If I hadn't gotten so spooked in Value Club, Shannon would be here, alive, and we'd be happy.
"Stupid horse," I cursed into my cup before slurping some more wine.
That's when the TV came on. It began with a warm, yellow light in the center of the screen, which expanded until the typewriter noise began. I seized the arms of the chair. My cup shattered against the fireplace.
T H E O R A N G E H O R S E
The white letters appeared one at a time with the mashing of those keys. A blurry scene gradually focused like a dream and there I was, five-years-old, exhaustedly standing by the ride.
"Christopher," the horse said, eyes spinning, lazy mouth opening only once for multiple syllables, "it's your turn to ride, time to see what wriggles inside."
I started screaming. My memory hadn’t been mistaken about the smallest detail. I had been alone. My small hand reached for the mane and I slipped, and my chin clipped the hard plastic. What happened next, I did not recall.
Five-year-old me sprawled out on the floor. I looked unconscious.
The orange horse snorted and his eyes spun so fast, the black dot blurred into a ragged circle.
"Time to see what wriggles inside," it said again. And then again. And again. And again. I hadn't moved. I was unconscious.
A curtain pushed aside briefly, revealing a host of people sitting on bleachers. I'd always thought we were alone. An older man stepped onto the sound stage and knelt down by my head.
"Kid didn't even make it to the saddle," he called back to the audience and the crowd beyond the curtain laughed until the orange horse emitted a sharp, piercing whinny. They quieted instantly. The older man's smile fell and he bowed his head low, mumbling apologetically as he scooped me up.
The thrum of the lights or a furnace dominated the empty space once more.
"Better take him, Jacks," he said.
The curtain swept aside and my fucking mom walked out in a huff. She had the old guy carry me off the stage. That's about when I started to regain consciousness.
My TV shut off then. It didn't have to show me what followed because I remembered my mom lighting up a cigarette and sitting on the hood of our car.
I must have been groggy from the fall or the late hour. Seemed like we were outside Channel 14 a long time before she took me home. She never said a word. She didn't have to in order to convey her disappointment.
Behind a row of empty bottles, I found my phone. I got my coat and hopped in the car without waiting for a response. She'd be there. I knew she would.
Jacqueline waited inside the front entrance of Value Club, staring at the horse nobody had bothered to move. Only a stretched out bit of caution tape deterred any future riders.
The urge to punch my mom in the back of the head dwindled swiftly in the presence of the orange horse. I felt exhausted and stupid.
"What the fuck, mom?"
"Watch your language, Chris." My mom swore all the time, casually and for fun. Now in her seventies, she rarely hesitated to pepper her judgments of other drivers with a litany of expletives. Her sudden attention to etiquette implied the religious significance of the horse I now suspected.
"So what? You think it's Jesus? Horse Jesus? Fucking plastic horse Jesus?"
"Sh!" she hissed.
The mouth unhinged and popped so hard I thought it would fall off. Again, static came from the deeply buried recorder within. It didn't matter. I knew the words and what it wanted. Unbelievably, the ride remained plugged into the wall, and I had zero confidence the exposed wire had been fixed.
"You never did take your ride, Chris," Jacqueline said. She kept her hands folded against her chest and continued looking at the stupid, fucking horse.
"You want me to fucking die? Like the other kids on the show? Fuck, why was it a show? Why did it want a show? Huh?!" I ripped away the caution tape. "Why'd you make it a show, you fucking piece of shit!" I threw an ill advised punch against the side of its head and immediately broke my hand. "Fuck!"
"Christopher!" Jacqueline cradled my swelling, bleeding fist. "The show was an invitation. How was anyone to know about it otherwise? And nobody died. Sure, some kids fell off, and got injured. Most kids, I guess. Nobody died until… Shannon. And that was an accident. The orange horse was a test. If you could hang on, then you were in. If not, then-"
"You were outside. Holy… mom, what the hell is going on? What is this thing?"
She wrapped my hand in a kerchief from her purse and patted my cheek before she spoke. "It's something, Chris. It's really something. That's all I can say with any certainty. The people in this town, they all follow something, and this… this is just the something that found us first. You want to know what it is, then you know what you have to do."
It's your turn to ride.
I started my approach, each step a triumph over fear so deeply ingrained into my character I didn't know myself without it. If I could take that ride, and hang on for the duration, I would be someone totally new.
Shannon's death had been an accident.
Something greater resided in or around the orange horse.
My whole life I'd been waiting to find…
what wriggles inside
I threw up all over the saddle as soon as my undamaged hand gripped the pommel. A strong grip snagged my collar and dragged me away before I could even try to mount. The struggle against the intervener lasted only a few seconds before I was pinned to the ground by three Value Club employees and a security guard.
"Sir! That isn't safe!" the guard yelled in my face.
"Hey," another employee said, "somebody plugged it back in."
Jacqueline was already long gone by that point. Eventually, I calmed down enough to be escorted from the store. My mom wasn't in the parking lot, and she wouldn't answer my calls or texts. Her apartment had been vacated already for a week.
In short, I don't know where she is. Or why she probably wanted me dead.
I got rid of my TV. I'm tempted to ditch all screens, including the one I'm currently typing this on. I'm terrified the orange horse will take it over to send me another video.
Value Club removed the ride. Some PR person promised it'd be destroyed asap. Yet, I got a weird feeling they were lying. I'd chop and burn the evil thing myself if I thought it would kill it.
But the orange horse remains. It visits during my sleep. I'm a kid again, and I always take my ride, and fall off when it gets out of control.
I fall and fall and fall, back into my body, asleep until impact. I sit up and gasp, but my wife isn't there.
Shannon's gone.
And I'm alone because I couldn't ride a stupid, plastic horse.

Commander Leandra gazed out of the main viewport of the retaliation. Twinkling lights in the void of space were her only visual indication of the forces they were up against. And, judging by the fact it looked like a night sky back on Earth... there were far too many for her ship to handle alone. But alone they were, and if she didn't get these refugees home, she could hardly call herself a commander. Her sensor technician let out a long, deep sigh.
​
"They're between us and the slip-gate commander, what are your orders?"
​
Leandra felt the oppressive silence fall like the gavel of a judge, all eyes fixed on her. Her eyes wandered up to a genuine wood sign, hung from the ceiling by two lengths of paracord. The oath engraved upon it was one she held near and dear to her heart.
​
"By gun, by sword, or by bare claws I give my life so that others may live. I will go unmourned, and forgotten in their stead. For this is my purpose, and thus..."
​
She hadn't realized she'd been reading it aloud until the bridge crew burst out in unison.
​

"I VOLUNTEER!!!"

​
To say the unanimous shout vibrated the deck plates would have been an understatement. it felt as if the entire ship shuddered in response to the will of its crew. The shout was carried up and down the ship, carried on the voices of young and old, frail and strong, from the bridge to the brig the shout could be heard at cacophonous volumes. Commander Leandra took a deep breath and asked.
​
"Simian, estimated hostiles."
​
"Ma'am! scanners indicate a ballpark in the tens of thousands, most are boardefighter craft, but the rest are Hulks."
​
Leandra's mouth turned down in a frown. Hulks, a colloquial term for any ship larger than an orbital station and capable of Hyper liminal travel. Nodding sharply, Commander Leandra glanced to Hylda who was manning the point defense systems, then at Rannan who stood guard by the door. Her eyes fell on each and every one of the flushed, and pale faces that surrounded her. She knew her men were scared, Death scared even her... But she was a volunteer, and she had a job to do.
​
"Laura, Compress the shield around the refugee quarters, turn it to max power, and polarise it, Reroute power from engines five and seven if you have to. Carter, I want all weapons systems operating at 75% power or more, reroute power from the hydroponics bay and cafeteria. Hylda!"
​
Leandra's wife looked up with a sharp, focused look.
​
"I'm giving you full authority over all point defense systems, if anything comes within a hundred kilometers of this ship, I want it turned into space dust."
​
Hylda nodded and jacked a port into the base of her skull, syncing with the ship's systems, spare monitors extending from her battle station. Leandra then looked at her throttle man and gave the order.
​
"Full steam ahead. Put us right in the middle of them."
​
Leandra slowly clasped her hands behind her back, waist-length crimson red hair pressed against her back as she peered out from beneath the brim of her tricorn hat. Then, she slowly hit the comms button as the ship began to accelerate forward.
​
"This is Commander Leandra, Man your Battlestations and strap in, We either win, or we die trying. Nos pro lapsis pugnabimus , et pro vivis moriemur."
​
The ship began to vibrate as all 300,000 of her crew rushed to their battle stations. Old hymns were being sung like warcries as all cannons came online at the same time, 1,000 in total. Leandra picked up a few of the more passionate lyrics and recognized their respective hymns. From the halls of Montezuma, The Battle Hymn of the Republic, Union Dixie, and countless others were sung side by side making the very ship itself seem as though it were singing.
​
The first of the Geknosion laser pulses slammed into the retaliation heat sensors chirping as the sensor array was heated to an uncomfortable temperature by the pulses. A burst of kinetic flechettes slammed into the viewport and Leandra hit the shutters, big metal plates slamming down and sealing off the transpari-steel viewport against damage. The ship would shudder every time a cannon battery fired, a hundred guns going off at once, temp-rifts opening up just outside the muzzle and then collapsing behind the slug to accelerate it even further. She glanced at Hylda's screens, watching as her wife expertly lazed down two geknosian boarding craft as they entered the three-hundred-meter kill range of the point defense systems. A missile impacted against the hull somewhere along the main body of the ship, almost throwing Leandra to the ground as she stabilized herself against the console. Her throttle man had sweat beading on his forehead as he held the throttle at its maximum, the ship's auto stabilization fighting him every step of the way.
​
"Damage report!"
​
She called out urgently.
​
"All systems functioning Commander! They were aiming for the refugees! the shield took it, but we can't take another missile in that spot until that section's generator restarts"
​
"ETA!?"
​
She commanded, Her throttle man crying out.
​
"T-MINUS TEN MINUTES UNTIL GATEWAY CROSSING!"
​
Leandra slammed a few buttons, initiating a manual restart of the powered-down shield generator. Activating the sensor array's super cooling she shouted into the intercom.
​
"All guns focus on the hulks! Hylda, aim for the fighters and missiles"
​
"Aye aye, Lea!"
​
The ship was rocked yet again by another missile, but this time an alarm began to blare.
"Status!"
​
Her engineer surfed through the diagrams, locating the affected area and paling.
​
"They got the main shield generator! All shields are down and not responding! They're aiming for the goddamn refugees on purpose!!"
​
Leandra's blood went cold as Hylda let out a scream of rage and elation as she lazed down dozens of fighters, but a glance at the sensor tech's screen showed they were surrounded. Three sharp pulses of light and another alarm blared as her sensor tech exclaimed.
​
"FUCKFUCKSHIT!!! they got the main array! switching to tertiary systems but we're practically goddamn blind!"
​
Leandra cursed as she was forced to open the shutters for visual acquisition. Silver and purple knife-like ships flashed across the viewport, some detonating as bright pulses of light focused on their engines. A ringing filled Leandra's ears as she watched a ship purposefully slam into a point-defense turret, ripping it completely off the "teeth" of the spinal gun.
​
Slowly she closed her eyes, folding her hands in prayer for the first time since she was but a little girl.
​
"I don't know if you can hear me... but please, if you can, Lady Liberty, take pity on the souls we watch over, and see that are guided to safe pastures, whether or not we shepherds make it. Amen."
​
Leandra opened her eyes, letting out a slow breath as a supernatural calm fell over her. an alarm stopped blaring and her engineer shouted.
​
"SHIELDS ARE BACK UP AND WORKING AT 110% EFFICIENCY CAPTAIN! ITS A MIRACLE!"
​
Leandra pointed at him and shouted.
​
"KEEP THE REFUGEES SAFE! THAT IS MISSION PRIORITY NUMBER ONE!"
​
"AYE AYE, CAPTAIN"
​
Leandra turned her head to look out the viewport, just as Hylda was jumping from her chair. Leandra froze as she saw the Geknosian boarding craft spearing right towards the compromised transpari-steel viewport.
​
It happened so fast Hylda screamed something and leaped over the console, shoving Leandra back where Rannan grabbed the back of her uniform.
​
The pointed tip of the geknosian fighter crumpled the transpari-steel, only making it roughly a quarter of its length in before the pressurized air in the bridge shoved it back out into space alongside anything not strapped down...
​
Which included Hylda.
​
The last thing Leandra saw of her beloved was the tears in her eyes boiling in the vacuum of space as she smiled softly, mouthing
​
"I Volunteer"
​
and then the shutters slammed down, sealing the bridge from any further suicide attacks. Alarms blared but to Leandra they were silent, her heart having been ripped out through a broken viewport.
​
^"mom!"
​
"Mom!"
​
"MOM! PLEASE!"
​
She looked up into Rannan's grief-contorted face as he shook her shoulders, something inside of her slowly withering away as she forced herself to stand. Despite the chaos around her, a cool calm settled over her being as she listened to the shouted reports.
​
"BATTERIES TEN THROUGH EIGHTEEN HAVE BEEN DISABLED."
​
"HULL RUPTURE! Compartment Z80! Repressurizing and sealing!"
​
Her hands danced across the console before she slowly removed a key tied to a string around her neck. A key slot popped out of the console and she inserted the key, twisting it a quarter turn to the right, then back around to the left and back to start. The entire ship thrummed and began to slowly rotate in a spherical motion, slamming its bulky mass into the fighters surrounding it like a colossal battering ram. The bridge had gone silent as the lights dimmed and a smooth mechanical voice inquired.
​
"Voice authorization."
​
Leandra's voice was colder than liquid oxygen as she stated.
​
"Icarus protocol, engage."
​
"Icarus protocol engaging, stand by for total non-essential system shutdown."
​
The ship's lights went out as a deep humm could be heard from below their feet.
​

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

​
She didn't need to see it to know what that roar meant. Not twenty kilometers from her position, magnetically stabilized by the "teeth" of the spinal gun, a small white star had formed in front of and behind the retaliation the twin stars devouring and slagging every ship that dared come to close as the ship began slowly advancing on the largest targets, The Hulks. The Icarus star generator thrummed loudly each time it came in contact with metal. The small suns slagged and instantly decommissioned any vessel they passed within a hundred kilometers, the only reason it didn't affect the retaliation was that all shield power was being focused on repelling the heat away from the main vessel.
​
for twelve minutes they spun around the battlefield, demolishing everything in their path. and when no hostiles remained, the system auto-powered down, reabsorbing the energy used to create the stars as the lights flickered back on. She waited, letting her sensor tech double and triple check his readings before relievedly calling
​
"all clear!"
​
Leandra slowly nodded and walked out of the bridge, intending to make it to her room, but the pain in her chest was too much and she fell to her knees in the middle of the hallway. Crying out in anguish and slamming a fist into the floor as she bawled her eyes out, hoping to fill the painfully empty space in her chest with tears. and, over time, eventually, something did replace the grief in her heart.
​
a feeling of utter emptiness weighed her down as she slowly got to her feet and shuffled to her room with blotchy, red-rimmed eyes. Unsure if she'd ever feel whole again.

Modern Type Theory
By The Modern Type Institute [Version 5.4]
Supplementary - Database - Website - Language
5.4 – What’s New?

• Introduction of Integrated Update Log
• Introduction of Summary Foot Notes
• Textification of Visuals

CHAPTER 1 PRE-TYPE
An Overview of the Theory
History & Placement
Before there were cognitive types, there was Carl Gustav Jung, a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst who spent his entire life trying to understand the underlying mechanisms of human cognition and consciousness. He published his research in many parts and books, one of them being his famous book, "Psychological Types," released back in 1921, in which he discussed the possibility of categorising people into a number of archetypes and what constitutes them. Later on, in the coming decades, groups and people such as the Briggs Family, Ausra Augustinaviciute and many more would expand upon Jung's admittedly incomplete theory through different lenses, in the forms of books and research that would later be used to build entire communities around them.
So many, in fact, that there would be, on average, two new schools of thought each year passing from the day Carl Jung published his original work back in 1921, about 5 on average each year if we start counting from the day the Briggs published their most popular work back in 1956. It goes without saying that the said amount of theories, while greatly appreciated in many ways, is in fact way more than any one person can be expected to read over, let alone understand. And it is also unfortunate that the community's efforts just keep on dividing the community in the same pseudo-scientific pit that it finds itself in.
This great amount of attraction to Jung’s original work and its derivatives did not come for no reason. However, while the individual reasons may differ, ultimately everyone agrees that Jung had found a treasure with the way he decided to split the hairs of reality in order to understand the underlying mechanisms that run our cognition on a daily basis. Ultimately, the typology community has always held great potential for changing the course of all human lives and history, but it has always been held back by the many divisions that form from within it and the cracks found within theories that do not behold themselves to scientific protocols or methods. In that, the MTT finds its purpose in uniting the typology community at large into one great theory that takes every great element from every other theory to create one greater theory that is constantly improving through the infrastructures provided by the MTI to constantly research it in as many ways as possible in order to ensure that the MTT is truly the best.
Summary; Carl Gustav Jung, a psychiatrist, studied human cognition and consciousness, introducing the concept of psychological types in 1921. Subsequent researchers like the Briggs family expanded on his work, leading to numerous typological theories. The Typology community aims to unite these theories into a comprehensive model with the help of MTI through the MTT model, striving for a more cohesive and scientifically grounded approach.
GIF - Figure 1.
In the graphic above we can see the development of Jungian Typologies over time, it starting with Jung’s original work then with a follow up from Katherine Briggs and it would not take too long for so many others authors to hop on board.
Framework & purpose
The Modern Type Theory (MTT) is a system that approaches cognition algorithmically from the perspective of evolutionary cognitive psychology and connectionism. It hopes to have a cohesive and accurate model that represents the functions of the human brain through modified Jungian faculties in an electro-like circuit model. This model represents the individual colours of cognition through an analysis, dissection, and mix of the primary colour provided by Carl G. Jung and improved upon by various typological teams. These teams include but are not limited to Dave and Shan from OPS, the various authors of Socionics, the various authors of the MBTI system and its sub-schools and more.
The MTT and MTI aim to achieve these goals by ensuring that the MTT remains open source and institutionally backed to ensure that it has all the resources it needs to become a perpetually growing community, sustained theory, and practice that is ever more scientific than any of the other theories that came before it, so that it can be a beacon of truth for the community at large.
Quote “The typological community has always held immense potential for knowledge and the betterment of the world. However, it has consistently failed to reach its full potential due to various unclear reasons. At MTT, we believe that we have identified many of the factors that held the community back from reaching its metamorphosis, and we are committed to being the driving force behind change.
The MTI aims to achieve these goals by aggregating efforts in researching the truth of value of other typology systems and synthesizing their functional elements into one greater cohesive model that being the MTT.
Quote “The Modern Type Theory is a typological theory based on the works of C.G Jung as well as other derivatives such Aušra Augustinacvičiūtė, Dave & Shan Powers and many others. It specifically orients itself on a modified cognitive model that would be best described as a mixture of Evolutionary Cognitive Psychology and Connectionism, it proposes that everyone has a type and that types represent functional dynamics that evolved to fit and answer for tribal and evolutionary needs, It attempts to explain it through the use of the Jungian Functions as information and energy processing units.“
And it goes without saying that the MTT has not only been built on the backs of giants in terms of the typology community from greats like the Briggs, John Beebe, Linda Berens, Gulenko, Ausra and more but also on the backs of giants from other fields such as C.R. Darwin, Michael Faraday, Luigi Galvani and more as will be illustrated by the following figure below:
Summary; The Modern Type Theory (MTT) is a cognitive system integrating evolutionary psychology and connectionism to model human brain functions based on Jungian faculties. It aims to be open-source, institutionally supported, and scientifically advanced. MTT seeks to unify typology systems, like MBTI and Socionics, into a cohesive model. The MTI initiative combines research efforts to synthesize typology elements into MTT.
Figure 2.
Outside indirect contributions to the development of MTT by people such as Alan L. Hodgkin, David S. Wilson, Charles R. Darwin, Walter H. Pitts, Seymor A. Popert and others.
A Basis For The Theory
Evolutionary Specialization Theory
The Modern Type Theory is a theory that bases itself upon a hypothesis built by its founders, which is named the Evolutionary Specialisation Theory or EST for short. It suggests that types came about due to evolutionary needs which could not be met by singular individuals due to the finite nature of their capacity. This required that individuals would cognitively specialise in order to tackle the various needs of their groups and have their needs met as well. This is due to, as mentioned prior, a finite capacity of the human brain, but also due to time constraints posed by short lifespans and the social nature of humans. In that way, the theory suggests that the types represent different systems of allocating the human capacity or energy, and that typology is the study of the systematic way in which mental energy is allocated.
Quote “ In essence, human biology evolved to allocate mental energy through different types, each offering distinct competencies. This can also be seen on an individual level, aligning with mainstream biological views that types represent survival strategies arising from energy limitations. Quote “
Quote “The theory stems from the idea that due to cognitive limitations imposed by the need for survival, the human brain has not evolved to be able to make all possible observations and make decisions from all possible points of references. But rather that it has specialized in some capacity in its tribal nature, that caused imbalances due to the specialization and the contradictory nature of psychological reality but also left the space for balance.”
And in despite of the hypothetical having a foundationally intuitive background it does not go without basis in mainstream biology, it finds resonance in foundational biology such as some of Charles R. Dariwn’s observations, particularly in the Descent of Man where Darwin hints at the advantage of the product of individual individuation within the tribe for survival and growth. As for instance when he noted "If one man in a tribe... invented a new snare or weapon, the tribe would increase in number, spread, and supplant other tribes.", This goes along with broader biological theories including but not limited to: Group selection, Kin selection, Inclusive fitness, Multilevel selection theory, Reciprocal altruism and Mutualism).
Summary; The Evolutionary Specialization Theory (EST) proposes that types evolved due to cognitive specialization for survival needs in groups, stemming from human brain limitations and social constraints. It suggests that types represent different systems of allocating mental energy. This theory finds resonance in mainstream biology, supported by observations from Charles Darwin about individual innovation within tribes contributing to growth and survival.
Figure 3.
Artistic Representation of the division of labour
The Tritype Pyramid
One of the most important things to mention when constructing a framework of cognition is a mention related to the various layers at which cognition operates, this recognition has been arrived at by various other individuals from the community such as Gulenko and Linda barrens but also us as well. The different typologists call it different things but we call it the “Tritype Pyramid”, and what it is is the three main levels of cognition and the ways it expresses it self. The three are known by three names starting with the Express self which is the highest level of cognition which is simply whatever you decide to display to the world which may speak of your innate cognition or your learned styles of cognition and or neither of them, followed then by the level under it which is the Codified self which represents everything the you learn and the style or styles of cognition you learn to emulate which is still tied to the innate cognition but entirely so to allow for a level of dynamic cognition not limited by the evolutionary tendencies. Finally there is the lowest level representing the most innate level cognition that being the Process self which is the fixed evolutionary level of cognition that is extremely hard to change on any level and nearing on impossible. That precise level is what most of what type tries to explore, not so much the dynamic elements that change on a day to day basis but what the underlying framework and structure that lies under all of them is which is represented through the systems that are known as Types.
Summary; The "Tritype Pyramid" framework discusses the three levels of cognition: the Express self, representing what you show the world; the Codified self, reflecting learned cognitive styles; and the Process self, representing innate cognition that is hard to change. This framework aims to explore the underlying structure of cognition beyond dynamic elements.
Figure 4.
This Figure above says that the self is a mix of inborn nature ("process self") and learned experience ("express self" & "codified self"). That human core nature shows most in new situations, while experience shapes how one adapt and express the self.
The Information Theory
The Plane
The first fundamental premise of MTT and for Jungian theories in general is that cognition is a metaphor for the inner plane of information, and that metaphor itself can be represented through what we know as colours. Cognition is a light spectrum of colours, and all intermix and create variations of their primary colours. For the naked eye, it just looks like a plane of information akin to a canvas with a bunch of colours just thrown around with no rhyme or reason and a seemingly infinite amount of colours with no overarching theme or limit.
But a typologist's eyes, much like the eyes of an artist, see beyond the seeming chaos into the inner structure and beauty of the canvas, and see the individual primary colours that make the painting come to life. They do not see it as a black box that cannot be understood and just produces results that are beyond comprehension. But a delicate systematic approach, all priming from basic elements, grows in complexity over time to produce the final result which can be a complex or simple work of art, but ultimately arrives from the same basic colours and paintbrush.
So, the other part of the premise is that we are able to partition the spectrum of light into the different primary colours, which we can use to reverse engineer the complex paintings that our brain is capable of producing. By doing this, we are able to break down any complex thoughts into their smaller primary elements which make them up, to understand the underlying structure behind thoughts which have a seemingly infinite complexity when, in reality, they do not. They are just more complex mixes of the same primary colours at the end of the day.
Summary; The first premise of MTT and Jungian theories suggests cognition is metaphorically represented by colours, forming a spectrum. Typologists and artists can see beyond chaos, understanding the structure and beauty of the canvas as a systematic approach from basic elements to complex results. By partitioning the light spectrum into primary colours, complex thoughts can be broken down into smaller elements for better understanding, revealing their underlying structure.
GIF - Figure 5.
The Plane of Colours Visualized
Speed / Energy
Now that we know of the plane of information representing space, we can add another dimension in play which would represent time, an essential element when constructing the metaphysics of anything, some would argue as much as the most essential element in any form of metaphysics. As for the reason for why such a dimension would be needed in a typology, it will become clearer as we move forward in the theory book but to quickly introduce it, we can say that not only are there electrons in the brain which when combined with the chemical processes and the means which are the neurons produce information of different kinds, but that such information travels through the brain and converts into other forms which all not only takes place in space but in time as well. We will represent said movement and speed by either the willingness to go faster or the willingness to go slower i.e. Accelerative and Decelerative, where elements that are accelerative accumulate momentum and move faster and the decelerative ones will act in the opposite manner.
Figure 6.
Simple Visualization of the Plane of Information with the added dimension
Capacity Management
Base LAws
Following the established principles by the EST section of the theory book, we can establish a few rules around the mental energy management laws, which will be referred to as capacity, so as not to confuse with energy as a synonym for change of momentum. The first of these will be that there exists no equilibrium of capacity as that would break the specialisation law established by the EST. The second will be that capacity management happens in categories and the hierarchy of categories is determined by the ratio of imbalance. That is to say, the energy division cannot be done from element a from group a, such that group b will be the benefactor. Analogously, you can't lower your video resolution to get better audio as they operate on different planes — an imperfect analogy. The other part of that is that if group a has a ratio where element a is 80 to b's 20, while group b has a ratio of a's 60 to b's 40, group a would be higher up due to the more extreme ratio. The third and last is that elements within subgroups are often ordered based on their individual size within the main group. So, if a and b were to be subgroups of delta, the individual elements within groups a and b would be ordered based on their individual sizes.
GIF Figure 7.
Visual Demonstration of the Laws
CHAPTER 2 The Elements
Jungian Faculties
Introductory metaphor
The Jungian faculties split the hairs of reality akin to splitting the layers and tones of a picture, then split it again into the individual colours to see how they differ, then to see what the primary colours are. Then we can reverse engineer the picture by mixing the colours together again according to an algorithm, by which we can then apply the same principle over and over again to all pictures because they all come from the same primary colours in spite of the seemingly unique mix. The elements will be the representation of the primary colours from which we can build everything that is cognitive, from which we can explain all behaviour.
GIF Figure 8.
The elements through colours
Processing Units
Most of MTT, including the elements, will be revolving around one main core idea, which is that of processing units, their interactions and the framework around them. Processing units represent the various processing drivers of the brain in the kind of information and energy they deal with, and the intricacies of said interactions. They cover the range of cognition and the difference in it, and a lot more, so that MTT takes a semi-connectionist approach to constructing a framework around cognition. It works on the axiom that the brain functions a lot like an electrical framework, akin to the work that has been done in similar fields, such as in the case of the Hodgkin Huxley model.
Figure 9.
The Circuit
The First Dichotomy

• The first dichotomy is that of the agent and its perception of the world; it is the dichotomy between the drivers of decision making and that of observation. Simply put, in MTT, the first dichotomy is that between the processes responsible for observation, data intake, and output versus the processes responsible for judgement and decision making. Also, the dichotomy known as deciding v. observing, as the elements mentioned earlier, will be distinguished through the fact that they are responsible for observations or decisions, which is also synonymous with judgement v. perception.

Figure 10.
The distinction between the agent and its observations
Decisions

• The first thing we want to start talking about is the decision-oriented processes. These are processes directly responsible for managing identities, meaning the creation, perception, and management of self and others. But most importantly, this all plays into making decisions or the judgement calls, ultimately so that you can say that something is functionally the right thing to do or that something feels like the right thing to do. What matters is the decision ultimately, and any decision requires a driver. The drivers are the so-called decider functions, but before we get ahead of ourselves, let's describe the axis of decision and the elements within it.
• Feelings or values are one of the two main ways of arriving at a decision. It is one of the abstract mechanisms as it cannot be quite explained explicitly, but it revolves all around the value orientation of something so that the right decision is one that is based on the values of the individual and the individuals around them. The other way of arriving at a decision, however, is thinking or function and as the name implies, it is all about the functionality of the decision. So instead of thinking of the emotional impact of the decision relative to a set of values, it is all about the functional impact on what does or does not work.

Summary; The decision-oriented processes involve managing identities and making judgment calls based on feelings/values or thinking/functionality. Decisions require drivers known as decider functions. Feelings/values focus on value orientation, while thinking/functionality emphasizes the practical impact of decisions.

• Figure 11.

Decision Elements Symbolized
Observations

• Observations are all about the perception of objects in relation to each other. They are the processes responsible for the quantification and intake as well as output of things or objects. They are also responsible for the perception of systems, time and space. They play a vital role in everything as they constitute the data and patterns in terms of intake and output. Not only do they play a vital role relative to each other, they also play a vital role relative to the decision-making process, as without things to cast judgement upon, it cannot be done. They are also directly related to the perception of order and chaos as well as perpetrators of either. The underlying position behind observation will always be that of information relative to objects, so that any issues of the world, whether they be systematic, time or space related, will be observation issues.
• Sensing, the explicit and concrete way of perceiving the world, is all about sensory data, the simple "what can I see, taste, touch" and so on. Sensing makes up the perception of literal things, while on the other hand, we have the second way of perceiving the world, which is through intuition. Intuition perceives the implicit world; it is responsible for the perception of patterns or for seeing between the lines. While sensing is there, intuition is kind of there as well, as you can see the patterns or pattern emerge, but more mentally than in reality.

Summary; Observations involve perceiving objects in relation to each other, quantifying and processing data. They are crucial for decision-making and understanding order and chaos. Sensing involves concrete perception of the world using sensory data, while intuition perceives patterns and implicit information.

• GIF Figure 12.

Artistic expression of change in objects
Anti Category

• In each of the dichotomies, there exists an anti-pair which moves against the category, so that if the category is identities, it tries to not be identity-related and if it is objects, it tries to not be object-related. This fact may make it difficult for individuals from other schools of thought to comprehend why the categories are applied. We can see this in the case of thinking, for example, where it tries to be objective and disconnected from identity even though it is based on identity and in intuition where it is all about what isn’t in the object. Therefore, it tries to make itself appear beyond the object even though the patterns ultimately emerge from the objects themselves.
• Figure 13.

Artistic expression of negative space
Axes

• Due to the dichotomous nature of the elements in each category, we can create axes out of them so that we would have the T-F axis and the N-S axis. By further asserting that each individual is dominant in one of each of the elements as supported by the base laws, we can start creating a base typology through creating the types based on the dominance of the elements. Consequently, we would have [TN, NT, FN, NF, TS, ST, FS, SF] types. By further asserting the laws established in the base laws section, we can arrive at the base types, which would be [TNSF, NTFS, FNST, NFTS, TSNF, STFN, FSNT, SFTN].
• In this, we know that each type has both axes and that they are dominant in one element of each. This would create types that are dominant in function, inferior in values, with a secondary dominance in patterns and a secondary inferiority in sensing. Alternatively, there could be types that are dominant in values, inferior in function, with a secondary dominance in sensing and a secondary inferiority in patterns, as well as everything in between.
• The T-F axis is an axis of decision, so it is called the deciding axis. Likewise, N-S is an observing axis, so it is called the observing axis. Those who lead with a deciding axis are known as deciders, and those who lead with the observing axis are known as observers.
• Quote “First we will start with the basic dichotomies with a better or worse option for each, so that we have T>//

Summary; The content discusses creating a typology based on dominant elements in individuals, resulting in types like TNSF and NTFS. Types can be dominant in function, values, patterns, or sensing. The T-F axis is the deciding axis, while the N-S axis is the observing axis, categorizing individuals as deciders or observers based on their dominant axis.

• Figure 14.

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