Quotes of being alone

Hi Everyone, I'm researching CPQ software. Subskribe appears to be an up and coming company. The CPQ tool pushes sales reps outside of their CRM tool (eg. SFDC). After working 10+ years in SAAS at mid and enterprise level companies, I haven't met many reps that would be open to dealing with stand alone third party quoting system.
Does anyone have any thoughts or insights on what would convince a sales org to adopt a product like Subskribe other than price?
If Accounts Managers are open to separate QTC, would it be a hard requirement to have a mobile app to manage approvals and small changes?

I'm most of the way through book 11 (Knife of Dreams) in my first read/listening of the series. Book 11 might be my favorite so far, except for maybe 4, the Shadow Rising.
Book 11 has had some of the best scenes in the series so far, and it's also really feeling like Tarmon Gai'don is getting closer. (I'm ready to get over Elayne's arc with the succession. 🙃)
And so, I thought I would make a list of some of my favorites of the series so far.
Past Books
-Ingtar's confession and sheathing the sword
-Mat in the red door Ter'angreal (both times)
-Mat's arc of discovering his luck in Book 3, and also him beating up Gawyn and Galad
-Rand in the rings of Rhuidean: The steps forward taking Rand back in time to find the origins of the people of the Dragon was really well done and fascinating
-Rand reveals the secret of the Aiel at Alcair Dal: This felt like a dramatic courtroom case, where Couladin denies the secrets of Rhuidean and the clan chiefs side with Rand
-Perrin's return to the Two Rivers
-Min and Siuan's escape from the Tower
-Mat failing to get Rand's attention until he calls "Lews Therin"
-Perrin talking to the wolves preceeding dumai's wells: "They have shadow slayer." "We come."
-Elayne, Nynaeve, and later Egwene in Salidar: It's cool to start to see the respective strengths of these 3 blossom as Nynaeve heal's gentling, Elayne makes Ter'angreal, and Egwene discovering traveling and more
-Morgaize relinquishing the throne to Elayne as the Seanchan take Amador
-Egwene maneuvering several Ais Sedai to swear fealty on the march to Tar'Valon
-Nynaeve reuniting with Lan AND overcoming her block: I'd been waiting for both of those things to happen for books and they happened at the same time
-Seeing the awe and fear from several points of view as chanellers around the world feel Rand and Nynaeve cleansing saidin
Book 11
-Galad challenging tricking Carridin into a trial by sword: Is Galad a prick? Definitely. But this scene was cool anyway. The white cloaks ride for Tarmen Gai'don
-Nynaeve tricking Lan and leaving him in Saldea: "[Lan Mandragoran] rides from World’s End toward Tarwin’s Gap, toward Tarmon Gai’don. Will he ride alone?" Made all the better by the backdrop of New Spring
-Perrin negotiates with the seanchan: Boy was I wrong when I thought Faile's capture would be a one book affair. But intimidating the banner general with his yellow eyes, Two Rivers archers, and the royalty and Asha'man who follow him was pretty sick.
-🌟 Egwene's imprisonment in the tower: This was easily my favorite POV in the whole series so far. The dignity of Egwene as she refuses to deny who she is and the inevitable earning of respect from the novices, accepted, and many sisters was just so cool. For those who are Sanderson fans it reminded me of Bridge 4.
Last but not least:
-"The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again.": This quote ages like fine wine, and it's my favorite part of starting new book.

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/ThrowRa-Alergy posting in AITAH
Concluded as per OOP
1 update - Medium
Original - 9th May 2024
Update - 10th May 2024
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AITAH for telling my bf that his daughter is not allowed in my apartment because she doesn’t stop smuggling peanuts in?
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I can’t have any contact with peanuts and I am terrified of them due to some bad experience ms ending up in the hospital. I have my shots now on me all the time. It is not exactly airborne but I could have irritation and if it for example touch something that had been in contact with peanuts i could have swollen eyes and itchy nose and throat. Ingesting is fatal.
She is 14 and has no respect what so ever for my anxiety. My bf and I moved in and she lives with us every other week. Now I told my bf that I don’t want her here because she is not respecting my boundaries. But that I understand that he doesn’t want to live with me in that case we could revert back to him being with me when he doesn’t have his daughter. He got very upset because he said that he loved me and wanted a real relationship and to live in one home.
So I told him that maybe he should be with someone who isn’t allergic then. He thinks I am being very unfair. He said well, she will probably hate the next one too and the next and the next because she wants her mom and me to be together again so it wasn’t “me specifically” that she dislikes. I said that maybe he needs to take a break from dating then until she is onboard but he said that he couldn’t be single just because his daughter wants him to. Before me he was single for 6 years and that wasn’t good enough.
Before we decided to move in together, we have done some “trial” living together and never once did his daughter do anything about the nuts. But now for 4 months she has always peanuts with her. I don’t know why she is doing this. I thought we were cool. She just smirks and says maybe if you are so allergic, maybe you’re not meant to survive(a stand up comedy bit from Louis CK)
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Comments
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ERVetSurgeon
NTA but you need to leave this relationship. She thinks it is funny and he doesn't care. The amount of disrespect for your health is amazing.
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CruelxIntention
This. He’s allowing this instead of getting to the core of it and putting the child in therapy where she clearly belongs. She’s plenty old enough to know this can kill someone and to have complete disregard over that shouldn’t be overlooked. You may love this guy but I’m betting you love breathing more.
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WonderingGemini84

"You may love this guy but I'm betting you love breathing more."

THIS!!!
You can not love someone when you're dead.
The boyfriend doesn't seem to realise how serious "the no peanuts"-thing is. This is a non-negotable. Your home should be your safe space, she doesn't respect that and he doesn't hear you (or doesn't care enough)
Throw them out OP!!!
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weeperOfChimneys
NTA, she has all but said she's attempting to kill you with peanuts. Quoting a comedian doesn't make it funny or acceptable. He hasn't bothered to search her and divest her of the nuts when he picks her up either.

OOP: He offered this as a suggestion. Visitation before she entered my apartment but I don’t want this kind of life. I was fine only seeing him on his weeks off. But I understand that he wants something more permanent than meeting every other week so he probably should find another woman

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YoghurtSnodgrass
She would probably just hide peanuts around his place for you to hopefully come in contact with. Just break up. His kid is trying to kill you.
Where is she even getting all these nuts from? Is her mom buying them for her? Does she buy them from a vending machine at school? How crazy is the little turd?
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**Judgement - NTA*\*
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Update - 1 day later
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Hi everyone! Thank you so much for really caring about a stranger with a dilemma. I was glad that I wasn’t wrong in my guts. I told my bf that I wanted to break up.
He was very sad and tried to reason with me. He suggested that we could live separately. His daughter will soon be an adult. I told him that being 18 doesn’t guarantee that she leaves the nest nor that he stops being a father either. Any time she could come across hardships and wants to move home and she needs to find that home. She couldn’t have it with me.
And about living separately, while it is fine now and some few years ahead. What about the future?
He was silent and listening to me. I felt overwhelmed because I love him. He said that the only way his daughter will be happy is when he is alone. She is in therapy but she has not shown any regards for her father or his life. She seems to not see him as an individual with feelings. He is just a father. I didn’t know what to tell him and just said that she probably needed time to grow up.
Until he moves out, his daughter is not allowed to be in my apartment. She called and threw a tantrum about her father choosing me instead. That she has the right to live with her father every other week and this shouldn’t change. I didn’t say anything, they need to fix this as a family, I am not a part of this family anymore.
He rented his apartment for a year’s contract so I don’t know how he will manage to find a new or terminate the lease so he could move back to his old apartment. Anyway he is staying here for a couple of months.
I am very sad that this beautiful relationship has come to an end. But I need to think about myself now.
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Comments
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he_nooch73
Know you made the right choice for you, your health, your safety. As someone said in your other post ‘you may love him, but you probably love breathing more’. I think you’re right about his daughter never accepting his partners. He needs to address this with her in therapy. I hope her therapist knows about the peanuts because her behaviour is truly disturbing. I’m so sorry your relationship had to end.
Commercial-Ask3416
I feel so bad for you and your boyfriend. I feel like he is stuck between a rock and hard place regarding his daughter. I know people are saying he should discipline her or this and that, but it sounds like it wouldn't work and that she would likely escalate. I work with kids like her. Hoping her not being able to live with her dad the next few months will be a wake up call for her but in my experience I doubt it. Good luck to the both of you, especially him as he has to deal with the fallout. Not your monkey, not your circus anymore.
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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

Caution: Long Post
The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is without doubt and still is to this day one of the most influential, powerful, and iconic figures in American history due to his steadfast and nonviolent commitment in the fight for Civil Rights, Equality, and Justice during Jim Crow Segregation in the United States. The highlight of his career as an activist came in 1963 in which he delivered his famous "I Have a Dream" speech in front of Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. in which he envisioned a nation in which his children will be judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. This resulted in the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to be passed. Even after his assassination in 1968, his legacy inspired many similar Civil Rights Movements around the world.
Today, Martin Luther King, Jr. is hailed by both sides of the American political sphere as a beacon of hope on how to fight for justice and equality for all during turbulent times. But it's the Conservatives who constantly claim that they truly support him and follow his dream, especially in modern times and they've expressed it in a rather whitewashed and partisan fashion. The most obvious being their use of his "I Have a Dream" speech by quoting the one line that has often been cherry-picked and misinterpreted quite a lot in which they judge people not by skin but by their character. The main reason they do this is to give them the appearance that they are colorblind as their way of opposing racism. And in doing so, they consistently criticize Liberals of trying to divide the country into special interest groups and promote favoritism. As a result, they always claim that Dr. King is a Republican, let alone would've been one in this era given his views, along with the fact that he was a Christian. His niece, Alveda King even emphasized it herself.
Some of the ways that Conservatives try to supposedly live up to Dr. King's "colorblind" dream is by opposing supposed "Wokeness", Critical Race Theory, and the practice of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion everywhere. They also express it by opposing Affirmative Action and the use of racial quotas when it comes to applying for schools, universities, and jobs because they believe it causes Reverse Discrimination. In terms of nonviolence, Conservatives express their disapproval of the Black Lives Matter movement. On the basis of Christianity, Conservatives believe that Dr. King supported a fixed moral code as indicated in his Letters from Birmingham Jail since he led with love and not racial hatred by changing the lives of people and not the laws itself, along with the notion of self-sufficiency. Seeing all this, it seems like Conservatives are really desperate to prove how much America has progressed in this post-racial world in order to debunk accusations that it isn't a racist country and that's why they always prop up Dr. King by claiming that they follow his dream and will continue to do so. Well.....up until now.
During this year's Martin Luther King Day, a string of prominent Conservative activists and organizations suddenly turned on him. Starting off with Charlie Kirk of the youth Conservative movement Turning Point USA, who launched a blistering anti-MLK campaign in which he supposedly dispelled the alleged myths surrounding his popularity. He accused Dr. King of being a "bad person" and that his "sainthood will cause Black voters to realize it's being used against them to suppress the individual." He even went further by stating that "we made a huge mistake when we passed the Civil Rights Act in the 1960s" accusing it as "a way to get rid of the First Amendment". A while ago, the organization marketed the Conservative image of Dr. King when they sold $55 T-Shirts with his name as well as stickers of him with the words "Let Freedom Ring". Kirk was later joined by the Daily Wire's Matt Walsh who accused him of being a "communist". In fact, he railed against Dr. King a few years ago by accusing him of being a Womanizer, Adulterer, Plagiarizer, etc. Coming after Walsh was Human Events editor, conspiracy theorist, and fellow Turning Point USA alumna Jack Posobiec, who labeled Dr. King "a God of the Left" and stating that "the real legacy of the 1960s was enshrining Racial Discrimination and Race Consciousness into the Federal Bureaucracy." And finally, a popular Conservative Twitter account called "EndWokeness" called Dr. King "a Racial Marxist" because he "did not support a Colorblind Meritocracy" after it cited his quote on Wealth Distribution. What's even worse is that even non-White Conservatives hate him. Two examples include a commentator named Vince Everett Ellison and former football player and sports columnist, Jason Whitlock. The latest editions to the lineup of Black Guilt Conservatives, they railed against Dr. King and the passing of the Civil Rights by stating that they worsened the Black community by drifting them away from God into "Democratic Dependency". They even accused him of the same crimes as Walsh did.
With the sudden change in tone and emphasis from the Right against Dr. King, you have to ask yourself why they're doing this and what caused them to believe this way. And this is not an extremist fringe of the Right that some would expect to hear from. All of these are Mainstream Right-Wing Figures who have direct lineage to the GOP, including the current presidential nominee, Donald Trump. That's as Establishment you can get. Their remarks have been criticized by a lot of people from both sides and surprisingly by some Black Conservatives. One of them was Pastor Darrell Scott, a former faith advisor of Trump, who these days, is one of a few Black Conservatives who has been calling out other Black Conservatives for tearing down their own race in order to elevate their status among others, a very notorious habit of them. He criticized Kirk for inspiring a Hitler Youth. Another was Kimberly Klacik, who in 2020, gained viral for her campaign video stating that Black Lives don't matter to Democrats when she was running for Maryland's 7th Congressional District following the death of civil rights leader, Elijah Cummings, who was the incumbent. She criticized Kirk for his remarks stating that his rhetoric will prevent Blacks from voting Republican. Even with that said, there have been instances in which Conservatives themselves have questioned the Civil Rights Act and many of them have been pretty negative. If you check out other Conservative websites and especially here on Reddit, many of their criticisms echo the same sentiments as those Pundits stating that it was unconstitutional and that in infringed on the First Amendment, particularly the Notion of Freedom of Association.
That being said, there is some silver lining to this. Now, that they exposed themselves for what they really of think Dr. King, I think it's time for them to admit that they never really liked him in the first place, let alone understood who he really was and what he really stood for. In fact, they never really liked him at all. All they did was whitewash him and cherry-pick his ideas and speech for own Partisan Agenda. Dr. King constantly talked about the notion of Black Pride and campaigned about the need for Reparations. He also supported Affirmative Action stating in 1965 that "a Society that has done something special against the Negro for hundreds of years must now do something special for the Negro. Dr. King realized that our society was created in a way that managed to disadvantage the many for the benefit the few, and that America's Racial Hierarchy was connected to its Class Hierarchy. He also had political beliefs that manifested through both Racial Reconciliation and Concrete Policy Changes that could help restructure and benefit a divided and unequal nation. This is the reason why he referred to himself as a Democratic Socialist as he wanted a "Radical Redistribution of Economic and Political Power". In fact, he argued that true Equality can only be achieved, not just through legal rights, but through an equal distribution of resources. This is evident when he said “Call it democracy, or call it democratic socialism, but there must be a better distribution of wealth within this country for all God’s children.” This is the exact vision that Vermont Independent Senator Bernie Sanders believed in. After all, he did participate in the March on Washington in 1963. In regards to Police Brutality, while Dr. King opposed violent protest, he did acknowledge that a riot is the language of the Unheard and that it came from a place of Desperation. In fact, in his "I Have a Dream" Speech, he stated that Blacks could "never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the Victim of the Unspeakable Horrors of Police Brutality." After all, he was hounded by the FBI, was called a Communist, broke the law in protest of race-based Segregation and Violence, was thrown in jail, advocated Protests and Sit-Ins, opposed White Rule of Society, and was assassinated for his Race and his views on Race. Regarding the quote about the Content of Character from said speech, Dr. King's daughter, Bernice King stated that using solely that quote diminishes the purpose of the entire speech because her father's dream and work included "eradicating Racism, not ignoring it."
If anything, this goes to show that is Dr. King were around today, he would be heavily criticized for being Woke, politically correct, a Communist, a Race Hustler, and a member of the Radical Left. And we all know that the Right hates those ideologies passionately. But here's the thing, he never considered himself a Democrat, let alone a Republican. He was an Independent as he felt that both parties are the same. And reducing his legacy to a single quote diminishes the gains that he fought for and believed in. This especially goes to a lot of Conservatives out there who claim to follow his lead using that quote because they interpret them in a way that benefits them today than how he meant them back then. For you to claim that he didn't care about Skin Color is like saying Susan B. Anthony didn't care about Gender. And to those Conservatives who now hate him, including Black, I hope you're OK with people getting treated unfairly, including your own. Who knew being seen as an Equal is a Negative in your eyes.

I know we weren't on speaking terms when you passed, but I've missed you sorely since. Albeit conflictedly. In a way, I'm almost glad you weren't here to see most of the family join you, though I think you would've made it easier on the rest of us. I miss your bear hugs. I quote you all the time.
So. The cat you fought mom for me to keep recently got diagnosed with cancer. I think she's mostly been nice to him out of a sense of duty and knowing that's what you'd want and what you'd gotten him used to. I think he's kept her company , which is why I was happy to just visit. I know he's old, but it's hitting hard. I worry about her when she's all alone in that big drafty house.
And on that note, the neurologist appointments she's had to do since 2001? Well, they recently forwarded her to a neurosurgeon. But this time she doesn't have you. She's so scared and we're terrified right there with her.
I broke down to big bro, the other day. He said he thought I was dealing with it well cause I'd somehow managed to keep it reined in around mom, but the truth is I haven't slept since, and now we're changing all my meds again (btw, dad, I've ADHD , amongst the stuff you already knew about - the new meds have helped). He was driving me to the bus station as I sobbed and he couldn't hug me.
I told him we've lost so many people and he said that's just growing old. I said I was scared. He is too. And then he said: "if dad was here there'd be no waffling, he'd already have booked tickets and theyd be at a world specialist in a week." And that's true, isn't it? That's how it went before. I wish you were here to make her feel safe and to push her in ways we just cannot. I wish I had a hug.

So, my brother is in an emotionally abusive relationship. I texted him this past weekend about a text his girlfriend sent to my mom (it was extremely disturbing and out of line) it was a mature message. She went through his phone and read the message (which he didn’t answer) then she physically threatened me to my brother who then told my dad. I then sent him a text message about how if she physically threatens me again I’ll escalate it legally and that physically threatening someone isn’t okay (I sent 4 texts in the span of 48 hours, he didn’t answer, but she went through his phone and read them). I decided to block his number because I’m conflicted with the situation and I said my part (conflict gives me anxiety). I then removed him and his girlfriend from my social media, so they could no longer view anything I post. I then received a dm from his girlfriend saying “if you don’t leave blank and I alone, I will be having you charged for harassment :)” that is a direct quote. 1. I’ve never texted her… I don’t have her number. 2. I’ve met her in person 1 time for maybe 5 minutes like months ago. 3. I asked for her number in the text to my brother prior to discuss what she was saying to and about my mother and sent the text about her physically threatening me (I’ve said her name 2 times over text and actually in my entire life). So, is her use of threatening to press charges a use of intimidation (illegally) to prevent communication between my brother and I (obviously abusive and controlling). Could she try to press charges for harassment and what would a legal office even think of that? (Also, yes I did say that I would legally escalate it if I she physically threatened me, but I feel as if that’s different than her making a baseless threat.)

Well I guess that I have to start somewhere, so why not the end! I’ve been disowned for the umpteenth time by my parents (or rather by my mum because over the years, Dad has just learned to go along with whatever she says out of duress!) This has all been as a result of my having visited them in Hay ( a 700 kilometre round trip might I add) because my Dad’s brother passed away this week and it was Mother’s Day. I thought that I’d go to show my condolences and to wish my mother and sister who also lives there a happy Mother’s Day and bring them all some hand made gifts, I’m a bit sentimental like that.
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…

Well I guess that I have to start somewhere, so why not the end! I’ve been disowned for the umpteenth time by my parents (or rather by my mum because over the years, Dad has just learned to go along with whatever she says out of duress!) This has all been as a result of my having visited them in Hay ( a 700 kilometre round trip might I add) because my Dad’s brother passed away this week and it was Mother’s Day. I thought that I’d go to show my condolences and to wish my mother and sister who also lives there a happy Mother’s Day and bring them all some hand made gifts, I’m a bit sentimental like that.
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…

This story takes place over the course of about 2 ish years so details may get a little jumbled, so please bare with me. Let me start this story by setting the stage and important characters.
Dm - pretty okay guy but a little hot headed at times (This is mildly important)
Me - Aasimar warlock fighter multi class
K - tabaxi monk and problem player
There are a few other players but they don't really play too much of a role in this story, so I'll bring them up as needed.
We were playing Rime of the Frostmaiden, my first long term campign and the first character that I geniunely enjoyed and charished. Like I said above, I was playing an Aasimar warlock fighter, who was in the rime escaping a bounty on her head and was making ends meet by smuggling goods in and out of the ten towns. I loved her so much.
The campign starts and everything is fine for the most part, there are some in character disagreements but it was all in good fun, or so I thought. K's character constantly called my character evil for worshipping the Raven queen (hexblade warlock), before any of the problems actually start to arise its non stop and I quote, "Your a smelly stinky warlock drow!" I worked with my dm when making my charcter, and we decied that she was techinally a half helf, her fatehr being a dark elf. The only thing that made her stand out as anything else was the fact that she was well over six feet tall and build like a brick shit house.
I found out after these first few sessions that this player was the kind to run ahead of the party, without telling anyone in character, and get into trouble. The first time this happened and they showed their true colors was when we were exploring a mineshaft and turns out there was a Grell hiding in there under the specific condition, written IN THE BOOK mind you, that it would only come out if someone were in the room ALONE. Can you guess who found it and almost died as a result? If you guessed K, then you would be right. After a battle and K almost going down, almost, they start to raise hell and say that it wasn't fair and they couldn't do anything (The grell had them grappled and held in the air the majority of the fight while everyone else peppered it with spells). The DMm had to tell them that it wasn't an encounter that he made, that it was in the book and supposed to be there.
We continue with our sessioned and what not, having an occational out burst from K about the game being too hard from them splitting the party and running off. Things do start to bubble when the dm punishes K in game for their antics. For example, they start acting out of line with their gods beleifs and their god stops talking to/interacting with them, to which K whines and throws a fit over. A few more issues that we run into along the way include, but are not limited to

• K threatening to burn down a mans house because they losyt a fight. This fight was something set up by a fight club, with rules. The whole point of the fights were to rank up and challenge the champ.
• K breaking into their moms house through the chimmney and getting their ass lit on fire.
• K constantly stealing from the people of the ten towns, which if you know, are starving and activley dying.
• K complaining during almost every combat that it was unfair, unbalanced, and not fun. All the while everyone else, myself included, was having a great time
• K leaving call multiple times during session, espesially during combat, and blaming it on ADHD. This specific one pissed both me and the dm off, who I stated was a hot head before. He did not take kindly to his time and resourses being wasted. I was upset because I also have ADHD and found a ways to manage it during sessions, even offered to help K! But they always turned me down and just continued with leaving session and upseting the dm over it, while contining to blaim it on a mental illness that them and I shared.

The major two events that earn this post its title goes as follow, in this order.
My charcter was assasinated.
Her past caught up with her and she was killed, bled out in the middle of the tundra. But the dm and I talked about this, and it was meant to happen. You see, the dm sent me some cool prostetic homebrew that I really wanted to use. So we made a plan for my character to get killed, lose an arm in the process and be brought back as a reborn with an arm made of magic from the Raven Queen. What I wasn't expecting was the dm to give me a choice in letting my character die or taking the reserection in exchange for soemthing. The original trade would have been that she comes back to life but no matter what she or her father did, she and him would forever have their fates severed and couldnt do anything to save eachother.
This is a deal my character would not have taken, and I would have let her stayed dead to keep in charcter. But the dm threw me a bone and gave me a different deal instead. To which every time she died here after, she would have to stay dead for a longer and longer time, each time. Like that stop motion Pinoccio moive if you've seen it. While the dm and I were talking about it, I thought it would be funny to just roll new stats to keep everyone on their toes as we ended session before I made my decision.
Que K absolutly losing their mind in our general chat, saying that if my character dies then they wanted a new character too. The only reason this would be an issue was because we had lost a lot of the original party, K and myself being the only characters left. The Dm had even stated a while before that if we lost all the pcs that he would consider ending the campign, as no ones character would have the same inititave to act and all that. So K threaning to make a new character because I might make a new character, made things more complicated. I had put almost a year of my time at this point and didn't want it to go down the drain because of this. Which also plays into why the dm game be an easier deal for my character to take for her life back.
They had an actual break down over this, why? I still have no clue.
The second event was a dragon encounter. An Adult Black Dragon that was destorying the Ten Towns.
It was the most high stakes encounter we had ever had at that point, and everyone was stressed to say the least. My self and the artificer cast fly on eachother so we can actually reach the dragon who keeps doing fly by breath attacks. After almost an hour and a half of combat we finally slay the dragon, with myself landing the final blow. I was fucking estatic! My first dragon encounter and was the one to kill it. K however, wasn't happy.
Imeadiatly they start screaming about how they couldn't land a hit on the dragon and were useless for the fight. Saying that the Dm ran the encounter wrong, which upset the dm who was once again running a written encounter from the module. They kept screaming over the vc while we all tried to calm them down. It ended with the relativly calm barbarian pc who snapped and went off on them. There was so much yelling and fighting that I just left. I heard from the dm after the fact that K threatened to leave, which I guess they thought would work like it had in the past, but everyone who was left in vc told them to go ahead.
They stayed and we continued to have issues with them threatening to kill off their character if things didn't go their way or they weren't the mvp of every session. Needless to say, the dm kicked them after a few more sessions.

Already posted this is shrooms but thought I would post here as well. This is very important: I DO NOT CONDONE THE USE OF SUBSTANCES this is for educational purposes only
A little backstory, I’m 19M and have stuttered all my life. I’m not a very self conscious person but stuttering is my kryptonite. When I say I stutter I don’t mean I trip up on words hear and there I mean nearly every word I say can take me anywhere from a second to 30 seconds if I’m really having a bad block. A good portion of my life revolves around my stuttering. It dictates anything from my major in college to even the food I eat. It makes me feel less than human and is stopping me from being the person I want to be, at least that’s what it feels like. Through the years I have naively taken substances when I was far too young to both experiment and suppress the anxieties caused/formed by my stutter. Some of the substances were prescribed like Xanax and adderall while others I took to recreationally like MDMA, MDA, shrooms, LSD, alcohol, weed and some other more niche compounds. Most of there were done at wayyy to young of an age and I wouldn’t doubt it some of these causes lasting side effects even the LSD and shrooms which are physically safe. I stopped taking those drugs besides weed and alcohol until this year. (Sorry for the long backstory started rambling)
Fast forward to now me and three of my friends went on a climbing road trip with the first destination on our trip being Zion. We planned to take a 1/8 of GT each besides for my one friend who was going to take 2.5 since it was his first time. We took them on an empty stomach and started walking to our pre planned spot. They start hitting and fast, I have a decent bit of experience taking shrooms and have taken up to 5g with a good bit of experience of taking around 1/8 but these hit me like a train. We settle down in our spot when my friend who’s first time it was doing shrooms takes off with no shoes on in Zion national park without saying a word. It took us a while to realize because prior to taking off he was chilling in a dead tree near by and thought he needed some alone time. Anyways the three of us that are left start getting worried and we don’t know what to do. My one friend starts looping, saying “where’s __” over and over again but unfortunately repeating his name doesn’t summon him. At this point we are stopping balls and have no clue what to do but wait and hope he returns. I tried to calm him down saying he will be fine but honestly I wasn’t sure but at the time we couldn’t come up with a plan to find him (we did go looking for him but we were looping so hard there was no chance). This caused a lot of subtle anxiety for the first part of our trip with my one friend ever minute or so saying “where’s __” still. Our lost friend eventually appears out of the brush looking like a 6” 3’ hobbit it was quite a sight. I was scaring thinking he was off having a horrible trip or got hurt but the first thing he says is I quote “I know everything” to which I laughed and though to myself I have had that thought before this kid is tripping balls. Anyways we were all very relived but he tried to leave again saying he was feeling better away from the group which I get we probably weren’t giving off the best vide at that point but we didn’t want to stress over losing his again so I decided to tag along. This is where the stuttering backstory comes in, sorry again for the long post I wasn’t expecting to give a full trip report but here we are.
I was sitting with him on a tree nearby when we started taking about what he had just experienced/ is experiencing. It was very broken English but he was saying how we are all one and exclaimed how beautiful the whole experience had been and started asking me question about my trip and past trips. We somehow got to the topic of anxiety and the cause of it. When I started thinking about it I started to have very basic but meaningful realizations about my anxiety surrounding my stutter. I started speaking to my friend and rarely stuttering and even when I did, I didn’t care one bit, the anxiety I usually feel in the back of my throat wasn’t there and I could speak for the first time in my life. The whole we are all one mind set along with the heavy ego dissolution made me not care about if I stuttered or not it was beautiful. I felt like I could talk to anyone and not have the weight of my stutter glooming over me. I realized they are just people and their judgment (if they even are judging because the assumption that they are judging me is egotistical in a way since I am assuming they care about me enough to judge) shouldn’t effect the way I carry out my life and stop me from being happy. I also thought I am the one causing this anxiety for myself and all of this worry is for nothing since why be shameful about something I can’t change. I would always try to tell myself these things in my day to day life but I never really felt it. When I was tripping I was able to feel these thought and look at them in a new perspective I have never been able to in the past. No amount of alcohol, Xanax, MDMA or any other drug for that matter could have shown me that. During the trip I though I had cured my stutting even telling me friend I think I won’t be stuttering any more after this. Unfortunately this wasn’t the case but now I know it’s possible to reach that point, I feel I should have done a better job integrating my trip but there is still time and I plan to work on it. Maybe I say fuck it and pull a Paul stamets instead ha no jk. Anyways that’s a long story long sorry it was so drawn out and all over the place this wasn’t even the full trip but some of the more important bits. Hope you got something out of this but it was more of a vent because as one would image verbally telling a story to someone feels impossible with a stutter so it feels good get it out somehow.

I have heard some talk here that the Chinese Zen Masters didn’t talk about meditation. That seemed a little unbelievable to me, so I checked it out. I left Dogen out because he seems triggering to some on this subject.
Chinese Zen masters have written extensively about meditation and its practice. Here are just a few examples:
Huangbo Xiyun (9th century): "When sitting in meditation, do not think about good or evil. At that moment, what is your original face before your parents were born?" (The Zen Teachings of Huang Po, John Blofeld)
Hongzhi Zhengjue (12th century): "Silently sitting alone and casting off all affairs, I leave no traces, but continue on forever. The clear moon of enlightenment shines brightly; the wind of compassion gently blows." (Cultivating the Empty Field, Taigen Dan Leighton)
Huineng (6th century): "Just sit in meditation, and let go of all thoughts. Do not dwell in the past or anticipate the future. Your mind will then be in true meditation, free from all attachments." (The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch, Red Pine)
Guoan Shiyuan (13th century): "Meditation is like refining gold. It purifies the mind, allowing it to shine with wisdom and compassion. Through continuous practice, one can realize their true nature." (The Blue Cliff Record, Thomas Cleary)
Wumen Huikai (13th century): "When sitting in meditation, do not seek anything. Just be present, aware of each breath and each moment. In this stillness, the mind becomes clear, and wisdom naturally arises." (The Gateless Gate, Katsuki Sekida)
These quotes emphasize the importance of letting go of thoughts, being present, and experiencing the true nature of the mind through meditation.
They demonstrate that meditation has always been a core practice of Zen.

That was more than I planned on typing. So this is a post, instead of a comment.
Chris, I understand that you are here reading thighs that are posted. That should be obvious to everyone, it's the primary place to talk about it on Reddit, and well, you mention Reddit as a source. So let me start off by saying, I sympathize with you here. This would be horrible to be at the center of. Even after reading what you wrote and gaining understanding of what you experience has been like, I don’t think my imagination could even be capable of truly picturing what this must be like for you. I'm so sorry you have had to go through this.
I liked your piece. I agree with you on a lot of what you said. I’ve seen posts here that are insane Qanon shit. I mean there was one about matching symbols to tarot cards and the freemason ???????
Yeah all you full blown K-anon fuckers, abuse alleging fuckers, AND ESPECIALY all yall motherfuckers who wont shut the fuck up with the canine shit need to listen, or shits not gonna be ok. Yo ya hear me?
As the butterfly said, SHUT THE FUCK UP! (I’ll be honest, I'm not sure if that is actually a real quote, but it very well could be right? Hey sounds believable enough so I'll just s—
NO. I remember. I am conflicted. As all things are.
As you fuckers should remember too. You might be conflicted to reach but you must, stop, and think.
What if these walls could talk?
Well they would say things like, I AM A SUPER HOTEL FOR THE RICH. DO YOU REALLY THINK THE 1% OF THE WORLD, WOULDN’T LOVE HAVING THE LUXURY OF BRINGING THEIR DOG WITH THEM? AND IT'S TAKEN CARE OF FOR YOU PROBABLY AS WELL? WELL SHTI THAT SOUNDS LIKE A FUCKING GOOD IDEA THAT CAN ATTRACT MORE OF THE 1%
I AM TELLING YOU THE IDEA OF BEING ABLE TO AFFORD TAKING YOUR DOG WITH YOU IS SIMPLY A LUXURY.ONE THAT 99% OF US SIMPLY DON'T HAVE.
So remember. SHUT THE FUCK UP!
UNLESS YOU HAVE A CONCRETE THEORY (YOU MOST LIKELY DO NOT) THAN STOP and on that stop consider…
How can I ask this as a question?
And then consider again, well how can I disprove that question.
And if you to yourself, “ehh well yeah that is a good argument buuuuuuuuuut”
Then you are making accusations at that point.
DO NOT MAKE WILD ACCUSATIONS.
THIS IS A HIGHLY SENSITIVE MATTER AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS SUCH.
DO NOT GO MESSAGING, FOLLOWING, OR INTERACTING WITH THE PEOPLE INVOLVED IN THIS.
Ok, sorry about the all caps there, been wanting to say that but hey, sleep deprivation. :)
I guess Chris, I just want you to know I hope this all blows over soon and you don't have to deal with this anymore. But I do ask that you hear me out. Please, at least just this one time.
And the same goes for any of you I might have annoyed, pissed off, or confused by this pont. And yeah you might only experience more of those emotions after reading this, I am super sleep deprived after all. And it doesn't really matter, all that matters is that you hear my case with an open heart and mind.
For me, this has to be the largest amalgamation of human thought converging suddenly onto a single point. This has been truly an incredible mass social event. Even more so for me, since you know, I do fit the stereotype of a KendrickLamar lurker incredibly well at times.
And yes a massive event like this does bring with it a lot of people who are not equipped to handle the temptation of rampant speculation.
For especially in moments such as this. It becomes so easy to think or even maybe hope? That you might have at least caught a glimpse of.. Something? Yeah, there's probably the vapors of… something…. there… right?
And it becomes so easy for the vapor to plant its roots in your mind. Because only then could you nurture the roots so they embed deeply and grow into a mighty tree that produced the most amazing fruit you have ever seen.
I mean can you imagine? Me, out of everyone in the world? I am really the first person to make this connection that no one else has had? And then I can spread this gift with everyone nearly instantly?
Well shit, who wouldn’t take a bite of the forbidden fruit then?
I mean fuck, I probably did overstep my boundries in my lust.
Sex.
But I tasted the fruit. Well, at least… I think I did.. but does it matter? Whatever it was, it felt amazing.
But why am I rambling on about fruit like some kind of scholar trapped in a realm of infinite knowledge?
I should be talking about this beef, this truly legendary beef. So let me stake my final piece.
The truth is some people really are looking into this simply because they find this to be insane. I mean, DAMN!
Someone is out here claiming they have a way to blackmail Drake.
AND this happens right after multiple of the greatest diss tracks of all time!?
I mean are you kidding? Who isn't going to see this and get a bit curious?
Especially if you are a terminally online white guy under 40.
But what do we do? What is the solution?
Well it feels kind of obvious to me.
First site needs to have a team of moderators who are able to shift and handle large influxes of volume. Reddit you will have to eventually pay your moderators. I mean shoutout to the mods of the subreddits involved, I feel yall did as well as you could. Even if you did take down a post of mine…But yall cant do it alone. Nah, Reddit you will have to start paying moderators one day. I mean how many more Boston bombings and EbonyPrinces can you handle before it really starts eating into share prices?
But that does bring me to my second pont. A space with as much potential as this needs to be guided and directed in the correct way. Unfortunately that sounds really hard to figure out as you have to factor in developing procedures that quickly adapt to sudden spikes of both helpful and harmful lines of thinking, and because of the whole no sleep thing and it's not my job. No, it's the job of the rich people running social websites to safeguard against events like this. Unless Reddit wants it to be my job, then I would love to talk. (wow very reddit of me, as is all of this, probably…)
So yeah, thank you to anyone who reads this. I think I’ll check if any updates have happened while I wrote this for the past two hours and then unplug, relax and sleep. I think that is what Kdot would want right now for me and for a lot of you.
I wanted to end it with a verse here but couldn't think of anything and I know, Im yapin.

2296, The scene is set in a post apocalyptic Mojave desert, 15 years after a joint effort of the New California Republic, the Rangers, and the mysterious benefactor of the New Vegas Strip, Mr. House pushed back an attempted invasion of the Mojave and a final battle was waved for control of the hydroelectric powerhouse, Hoover Damm.
In the aftermath, Mr. House was removed from power discreetly, due to the actions of a wasteland wanderer on a mission for revenge, known only as the Courier. Mr. House's iconic Lucky 38 casino opened its doors, for the first time, offering a single floor casino and bar, it's upstairs remained an exclusive and mysterious meeting place for the New Vegas Strip's elite. The Lucky 38 represented one of the cleanest, most secure facilities, protected, like the rest of the strip, by the Securitron Mk 2, predominantly. Their presence ensured visitors on the Strip behaved themselves, though the other casinos maintained their own security and 'house rules' internally.
The Strip defined and maintained its status as an independent entity, determining through the Courier's observations that the NCR was stretching it's military might too thin, and couldn't realistically manage over the Strip and Mojave, so a new deal was struck, similar to the prior, but with The Strip extending it's Securitron security to enforce the immediately surrounding communities and a few outlying satelites. Trade to the surrounding areas increased, the Mojave benefitting from the prewar tech, pre-programmed security forces. The drug addicted fiends and other Raider groups would never be any match for their advanced weaponry, and ultimately were cleared out of existence.
The King's continued to watch over Freeside, making alliances with the Follower's of the Apocalypse... their desire to service the needs of the belittled, disadvantaged and destitute lined up, and this is where Mr. Wolf found his place in the story... the Courier and a Follower's doctor found love in the wasteland.... and raised a child together under a Ranger's flag... 23 years later? This is New Vegas...
A handsome man in a leather jacket sat in a dusty leather booth watching one of the girls dance on a pole, shaking her ass as bottle caps clinked on the stage in front of her. It was a swanky post apocalyptic casino strip club. A man in a leather jacket stood nearby, his hands crossed in front of his chest, "Kings" embroidered across the back in silver letters. A waitress approached him carrying a glass of some amber colored liquor, and sat it down at the half moon table. She lingered a moment in her lacey body suit, following his gaze up to the girl rubbing her tits in some older cowboys face.
"You don't get jealous seeing her like that, Mr. Wolf." The girl bit her lip and met his eyes as he picked up his glass and swirled it before giving it a smell and taking a slow swig. He tilted his head looking her over. She couldn't possibly be older then 19. Tight, perky little thing.
Mr. Wolf smirked and shook his head. "I like her... nice and wet when she comes to my bed."
The girl blushed and bit her lip. "So you like to watch?" She surmised.
"I don't mind, but why do you ask?" Wolf had these intense eyes that shot arrows into your very soul. It made her incredibly nervous... but she found it deeply exciting at the same time.
"Well... I'm living in 206 now... maybe... you might stop by sometime and I could dance for you? I know I don't have her body but... if you wanted something that was a little fresher... something... just yours?" She figeted her fingers against the table.
Jason looked her over once more and smirked.
"Two-Oh-six, huh?" He tilted his head, considering.
She nodded.
"Leave your cum soaked panties on my doorknob one of these nights if you really need it and maybe I'll come see if you got the moves." His Texan accent was subdued, but enthrallingly charming with his confident, somewhat bored with reality overtones.
"M-my panties?" She stammered turning bright red. "On your doorknob?" Alexa couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"If you're gunna shoot your shot with a dom... with an alpha... you need to be willing to submit. If you can't do that... I'm not interested." Wolf shrugged, completely unphased.
"But what about... what if..." Alexa glanced at Laura, the clubs most iconic stripper in the club, perhaps even the whole Strip.
She was taking some NCR soldier to the VIP lounge for a private dance.
Alexa had been bold enough to offer herself but now she was feeling nervous. If Laura wanted her out, she could lose her job... her home.
"Oh she won't mind... if anything she'll want to watch." Wolf shook his head, sensing her anxiety.
"Assuming of course... she likes the way you smell... she's funny like that." Wolf let the conversation end and Alexa nervously retreated.
Wolf sat drinking by himself, but got bored.
"Jakey, go get yourself a drink and sit down, I'm bored." Wolf called to his body guard.
Jacob looked over and nodded, giving the lounge one last look around before approaching the bar and getting himself a mug of beer, from the tuxedo shirt and boytie bartender Gerald, and returning to the table.
"What's on your mind boss?" Jacob had his hair slicked back in the usual King's gang hairstyle.
"Heard any rumors lately?" Wold looked at him, taking a drag from his cigarette and flicking the pack over to him.
"Honestly, boss, aside from the occasional drunkard or fiend rolling through freeside, nothing out of the ordinary... well, except... a way's out.. the crazy lady... Gloria was swearing up and down she found a headless metal suit of armor.. said the Enclave would burn down New Vegas. God's wraith and all that, you know how she gets."
"Enclave?" Jason's attention was piqued.
"Yeah, I don't know, she was probably just in withdrawal from the Jet... said she found it in the hollowed out shell of the Super Duper, out by the old highway." Jacob shrugged and drank from his beer and pulled a cigarette from the pack.
Wolf finished the last drag of his own cigarette. "Has anyone validated her claims?"
"Well... no... but... I mean... you've met her, she sees things that aren't there, all the time." Jacob shrugged and lit a cigarette.
Jason squinted, considering the resident crazy ladies most recent half coherent ramblings.
"That's an oddly specific hallucination though....take a group of guys out there tonight... humor me, and make sure she's not right." Wolf lifted his glass.
"Sir?" Jacob raised an eyebrow, thinking surely this could wait until tomorrow.
"Hypothetically" Wolf pondered aloud, "If there was... for some reason, there in-fact was... a pre-war, piece of military tech out there....a T-45, let's say, or T-60, best case scenario? We want it. Even if it's not at 100% capacity? It's fusion core alone... could change up the game for Freeside, something like that could make our tiny little city independent. We wouldn't have to be reliant on the scraps of New Vegas, and forget about the Hoover Dam completely."
Jacob caught Mr. Wolf's drift.. a fusion core could mean producing its own, radiation-free water, it's own electricity.. not just a little, a lot. Powering long dead machines, not to mention the agricultural benefits... producing healthier, higher yield tobacco... expanding their income ten fold.
Jacob suddenly felt like he understood Mr. Wolf's vision for the future.
"I should... go and deploy the King's to investigate." Jacob concluded.
"I think that would be for the best, I can take care of myself here." Wolf waved Jacob off.
Jacob downed his beer and excused himself.
Wolf drank the rest of his whiskey, extinguishing his cigarette.
Laura, the dancer came up to the table, and Wolf motioned to the blushing new waitress for a round, who felt a twinge of jealousy seeing her crush with the most popular stage act in town. She bit her tongue though, bringing over two more heavy pours of whiskey.
Laura eyed the girl as she came and went.
"She likes you." Laura concluded as the waitress walked away.
"Yeah.. I think she does." Mr. Wolf shrugged, flicking her a cigarette.
"The NCR boy liked me." She giggled wiping a little bit of cum from her lips and used half her shot like mouthwash.
"Get anything out of him.. other then.. his seed?" Wolf sighed.
"Of course," She grinned mischievously, "Apparently there's been trouble out West with the Brotherhood. They had some type of skirmish? Apparently NCR lost? NCR was apparently holding some old world tech, I don't know, but apparently it lit up the west coast power grid, like... in it's entirely?" Laura tilted her head to look at him.
"The entire western power grid was lit up by a single piece of tech??" Wolf shook his head at the topless girl beside him.
"Yeah, I had to make him cum twice for more details, but apparently it's the size of a grain of rice, with quote, unlimited energy potential." Laura relayed the information. It seemed more important then a suit of power armor or its fusion core.
"Who else knows about this?" Wolf demanded with his eyebrows squinted against his eyes.
"Anyone with a functional light bulb for... like... three hundred miles?" Laura guessed with a shrug.
"You said... it was the Brotherhood that took the win on the skirmish?" Wolf clarified some details.
"Yeah... rumor has it they have a new up and coming knight that's making waves." Laura shrugged.
"Stay on the rumors... I need details." Mr. Wolf nodded at her, drank his whiskey and stood up, downing his drink.
An energy source that powerful would have a big effect on the balance of power in the Mojave. It could mean a resurrection of the New California Republic to it's former glory and then some, and potentially... might mean a renewed effort to reclaim the western part of the former United States, in time.

I had heard some talk on zen that the Chinese Zen Masters didn’t talk about meditation. That seemed a little unbelievable to me, so I checked it out. I left Dogen out because he seems triggering to some at zen on this subject.
Chinese Zen masters have written extensively about meditation and its practice. Here are just a few examples:
Huangbo Xiyun (9th century): "When sitting in meditation, do not think about good or evil. At that moment, what is your original face before your parents were born?" (The Zen Teachings of Huang Po, John Blofeld)
Hongzhi Zhengjue (12th century): "Silently sitting alone and casting off all affairs, I leave no traces, but continue on forever. The clear moon of enlightenment shines brightly; the wind of compassion gently blows." (Cultivating the Empty Field, Taigen Dan Leighton)
Huineng (6th century): "Just sit in meditation, and let go of all thoughts. Do not dwell in the past or anticipate the future. Your mind will then be in true meditation, free from all attachments." (The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch, Red Pine)
Guoan Shiyuan (13th century): "Meditation is like refining gold. It purifies the mind, allowing it to shine with wisdom and compassion. Through continuous practice, one can realize their true nature." (The Blue Cliff Record, Thomas Cleary)
Wumen Huikai (13th century): "When sitting in meditation, do not seek anything. Just be present, aware of each breath and each moment. In this stillness, the mind becomes clear, and wisdom naturally arises." (The Gateless Gate, Katsuki Sekida)
These quotes emphasize the importance of letting go of thoughts, being present, and experiencing the true nature of the mind through meditation.
They demonstrate that meditation has always been a core practice of Zen.

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

thiss might be rly weird. 😅
so about a year and a half ago my friend who i had been talking to a lot wanted to get into a qpr (queer platonic relationship) with me since they said they felt like an emotional attachment to me in a platonic way. i had no idea what that was when they first asked me out, so i agreed based on their explanation of what it was like. i also was pretty sure i was in the aromatic asexual spectrum, so i thought it would be nice.
the weird thing was even though i claimed to be acearo, i was still messing around on dating apps. and shortly after the qpr started, i was visiting my friend group in my hometown for a bit. we were discussing dating app stuff with our other friend, and i shared some of my own stories as we talked. i mentioned after my stories that i wasn't using dating apps anymore and i only had one friend making app/quote unquote "dating app" left on my phone. my partnefriend got concerned and asked me what it was. i explained to them it was an app i told them about before. but the way they got defensive about it made me realize that they probably considered me being on dating apps of any sort as cheating.
so, i guess i just didn't know what i was getting into? i thought it was like just a stronger friendship or like best friends plus or something lol,, but my friend/partner seemed to want to do more romantic stuff like use pet names and go on dates and stuff. i said i was okay with that, but i didn't really want to do cuddling with them which i told them when we were establishing rules or boundaries or whatever. they were fine with it, but idk the pet names felt unnatural to me and "dates" felt like just hanging out with a good friend. they send couple memes to me saying it's us, but half the time i don't really agree. sometimes it feels like they think of me as their idea of their 'perfect version' of me or something, and not actually me. i do care about this person, but i cannot see myself doing anything remotely romantic with them, the more i inch towards it. after a few months of trying this, i decided i didn't like this, but i didn't know how to bring it up and now we're nearing one and a half years..
i think i went along with it because i cared about this person. and when we hung out together, it felt like just being with a friend and someone i really cared about. i do care about them a lot, and i very much enjoy their company. we've known each other for forever, and our friendship has gone through quite a lot of ups and downs. and recently i keep thinking of the downs and how we'd get into fights and annoy the shit out of each other. we were celebrating our anniversary with them coming up to where i live, and we had a disagreement at a restaurant that reminded me of those times when we were younger teens. and more recently i just feel hurt with some of the stuff they do/say. maybe remembering our past is making me more sensitive to the negatives, idk atp.
i think i am a person who will easy go along with something, and my friend/partner claimed a few things about me that i never even thought of for myself. i believed when they explained why they thought it. they told me i was autistic and deserved to be on disability because i was "disabled". i am able bodied,, just have some mental illness. when i told my dad, he got super mad because before i started this relationship, i was really good about school and making good grades. i dropped out my classes for a bit after the relationship started. my friend/partner has never showed much interest in school beyond high school and they didn't want a job until more recently when they realized yt and their small business weren't getting much money. i stopped school for a couple semesters just to work, but i plan to go back in next semester– when i told them, they said they were worried it would go bad for me again... and i guess i feel like the relationship is stopping me from doing better in school.
i don't want to say they're a bad influence, i think i am more just easily influenced or tend to mimic people around me... my partnefriend should live their life they want, but i think i also might be mimicking what they do kinda and that might be why my family does think they're a bad influence. and i feel more disconnected to my family when i started talking to my friend/partner more. they told me my dad is a manipulative person, but i don't even want to think that... sometimes i wonder if they said it because they consider their own parents (especially dad) manipulative. and i have met their family, they do seem p shitty even to me, but i don't see my own parents like that... my dad is doing his best i think, and he's good enough at least,, my friend/partner also claimed stuff like gender, gender preference, political views of mine when i never really told them that? most was similar to their own identity, and i honestly don't know what my gendegender preference/political views are specifically, ive never firmly said i was a specific label of any of those, but it still felt weird that they were putting me in this box when i felt uncertain about those things.
i also don't know if i'm really aroace. like i see happy romantic couples, and still want something like that. and i don't know if i can go and find someone like that if im platonically partnered with someone. and at this point i feel like "i didn't know what i was getting into" doesn't work if i try to just end things now,, i also am afraid it'll just go down terribly, and i'll never even get to be acquaintances with this person again. and i feel like our mutual friends will all side with them and i will just lose those friends forever as well. i'll feel even shittier if i try romance and see that i really am aroace and then id just be forever alone with no friends.
my partnefriend also bought tickets to go to a convention in a few months and id feel even shittier to end things poorly before that since they really wanted to go there and cosplay with me. the convention famously doesn't give any refunds too so they can't even get their money back for the tickets.
we're even planning to move out together in 2025, but i don't know if it's still something i want. we've been planning since like 2022 to move out together (it started out as just friends before they asked to be partners) but we keep having to push it further down with financial issues and such, so i don't even know if 2025 is a good year either. i am going through the process of switching my college major, and i feel like that's all ill really have time for soon especially when i start working alongside studying too. (im quite literally switching from an arts related major to something stem related lol.) i want to get my bachelor's and establish a good paying job before moving out. (and probably also work towards my master's) i don't even know if my friend/partner has anything going on in their future career and stuff, and i do not want to have to be financially responsible for them at all. i barely like when they ask me for money. they usually pay me back or pay for some of my stuff in return so it probably balances out, id just rather we each pay for our own things i guess,, or maybe im just being a prick abt it lol.
i just feel like an asshole, and im probably wasting their time by pretending to want to be more than just a standard friend and like everything is going ok on my side. i just don't know what to do. this is kinda my first relationship tbh, and definitely a first for qpr so i don't really have experience on how to end things lol, and i don't know what a good method to do so is.
sorry if this makes no sense, im rambling... but i am in need of advice... mainly, i am just looking for a way to end the relationship. but any other advice is fine, i need it. if im a piece of shit or you want to say something else 'negative' you can tell me that too, i just need honesty on my situation.
tldr; i am in a queer platonic relationship with someone who i saw as a friend. they wanted to be romantic. i did not. we are getting into disagreements. We seem to have different lifestyle choices, and it's getting to the point where i just want to end it. how do i break up with them that won't make things terrible between the two of us?

One of my girls has developed a lump (she’s a year and a half, its to be expected) so I booked her a vet visit. Id been there once before with one of my other girls for a checkup, and they were very nice. I wanted to know if my girl was completely blind (she is an albino feeder so I had no vet info). They couldn’t give me any answers, but I shook it off because it wasn’t important.
I took my other girl in today and they did an X-Ray. When the doctor came to speak with me, it was…strange. He told me about the lump and said he couldn’t tell if it was cancerous or not just from an X-Ray (again, expected). Then it got weird. He told me usually he doesn’t tell people to get their rats surgery because “why spend tons of money on a $10 rat”. Then he said my girl was developing tumors early, and rats can live for 7-8 years. I think I made 🤨 this exact face at him. After that I felt like I wasn’t in the hands of someone who actually cared about my pets well being. Then i got my quote.
$875 dollars.
Listen. I knew rat care would be expensive, I knew it, but I was expecting like $500 max. In the last week of research id done I never saw a number so high.
I thought I hit the jackpot, I live in the middle of nowhere so finding an exotic vet near me felt like a godsend. I dont feel comfortable going back there and leaving him alone with my baby. :(
So, if anyone knows a good vet in eastern NJ, northeast PA, let me know.

What's up guys and girls. I just got out of a 2 year relationship. Ex gf emotionally cheated on me, so I left. I felt crushed and alone because she was my everything, my lover, partner, best friend, supporter, everything. But now I am all I have. But now after 5 weeks I am feeling better. I have used the negativity and lonelieness and sadness and pain as energy to drive myself forward. And you don't need a breakup to learn this way! Here's my tips on how to become happier during your alone periods:

1. Journaling. Journaling helped me a lot to think thorough of my weaknesses, flaws, and strengths. It helps you observe yourself to better understand yourself. It's best to do this with a clear head so you're not biased against yourself. At first it may seem pointless since you're just writing it, but that's the point. Thats the start to self realization by knowing what and who and why you are the way you are.
2. Forgive yourself. Whether you messed up by trusting the wrong person, not being good enough, having any anger issues, not trying hard enough. Forgive yourself, do not burden yourself with yourself. Forgive yourself and ask yourself what you can do to change whatever it is you're giving yourself a hard time with. Forgiving yourself and learning to love yourself is a big step to living a peaceful life because you may underestimate what you can do in a year, 2 years, 3 years, 10 and even 20 years. Your life goes on and even though you may not like this chapter you're in right now you can always make changes to create better ones.
3. Go out for a walk under the sun! Does not matter if it's too hot or too cold. Exercise stimulates your brain and body to relaxation, and after walking for so many miles I'm sure it won't seem much of a chore after. Plus, you can also lose weight if that's a goal of yours. If walking under the sun, or even jogging, is something you would never do then give it multiple tries. It helps you push out of your "comfort zone" which is probably just sleeping around (I know my comfort was sleeping my days away depressingly). You can also listen to self help videos or podcasts while you walk. You may learn some new methods of quotes that you can implement into your life!
4. Avoid the junk food! Also known as comfort food! Too many carbs makes you feel lazy, which in turn mixes with your negative emotions. Making you even more glued to your bed. Or sofa. Instead, eat an apple or banana or another fruit. Or simply drink water! Your body will thank you for it in the long run. 😌
5. Pick up a healthy hobby. If you like to drink or smoke, cut back on it as much as you can. Make goals to quit those vices. Instead, learn to play the guitar, learn a skill like plumbing or wiring or carpentry, learn another language. You can also volunteer at animal shelters and walk dogs! They'll love you in return. Or you can feed the street pigeons. Helping out little critters like cats, dogs, pigeons or others can make you feel better about yourself. You'd be surprised how much they'd want to be around you or even snuggle up to you. Or even just ask your boss for longer hours! You just have to keep yourself busy from having too much time to think about anything negative.
6. Avoid social media: Social media only shows people's highlights and pushes the "you're either with me or against me" kind of mentality when you're watching reels of the top people, which leads to a certain identity loss for people who've yet to discover themselves. Plus it can get very toxic in the comment section.

Well those are the major things that have helped me to see brighter days while living alone. I hope you all find peace within yourselves because it is mostly found there (I say mostly because maybe some of you live in high crime areas or live with abusive family members). Remember to love yourself because at the end of the day you're all you have, so be kind to yourself and be your own best friend. If you need anyone to talk to feel free to hit me up and I'll get to you when I can. I know what it's like to struggle alone, to have nobody by your side. That's why I'm here to help. Best of luck to yall 🙏💪

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

DO NOT READ if you want to discover things for yourself. I suspect this may be a plot point in 2.3
There is quite a few things that are very random and yet unexplained in 2.0-2.2 story. There is a commonality between them.
Tiernan was ambushed by the Swarm near Penacony. But.. why is there Swarm in Asdana? Where are they hiding?
https://preview.redd.it/s2nttwq0ja0d1.png?width=1280&format=png&auto=webp&s=bd51bef9207dbd6cc30b8022928f77a69378774e
Razalina's story has the following "Towards the end of the War of Independence, she piloted a shuttle alone into the Memory Zone in search of secrets about the Primordial Dreamscape. She was never heard from again". Suspicious. Tiernan & Mikhail both had VAs, maybe we'll hear from her in the future?
Why is Argenti in Penacony? Last time he showed up, it was to deal with the Swarm and the story was about hallucinations caused by the bugs (referred to as "inharmonious pitch"). That story was kinda random and out of context with the entire Trailblaze quest. Unless... Oh wait, he is here again in Penacony for no reason whatsoever?
https://preview.redd.it/gv0em0cjga0d1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=2c704ec36f7b5b2ad156879919eaf6237b0d953a
Furthermore, Argenti's quest, Ruan Mei's quest, Swarm disaster, all about the Swarm, all right before Penacony seems... coincidental
In 2.0, in Sampo/Sparkle's Belobog dreamscape, we run into a Swarm bug hidden in a trashcan. Then Sampo starts bombing the f out of all the trashcans. Why would they bother introducing something so random? The swarm never even appeared in the main story before. In fact, wtf was the point of that dream to begin with? Unless... Sparkle was trying to tell us something
https://preview.redd.it/v1pxz1emia0d1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=2738a8b1fae72d042a7d0eff646f9183c3f27be8
https://preview.redd.it/wxm28txfea0d1.png?width=1280&format=png&auto=webp&s=96e059a7f7ef50c0a467544754db979bac060742
Then Sparkle starts handing out bombs left and right no reason whatsoever. Why?
Sunday said something along the lines of "it is not you who manipulates the Stellaron, but.." to the "Dreammaster", who told him to "No more questions". And then hundreds of raven corpses lie on the ground. What was this about? Why is "Dreammaster" in quotes. Why hundreds of ravens, not just one (sign of self-propagation)
https://preview.redd.it/br02qo9pla0d1.png?width=1280&format=png&auto=webp&s=92612d42375e7c998b8b27249f70b5a118e9049e
Forces of Preservation, Elation, Glamoth's Iron Cavalry, Order, Harmony, Trailblaze are all gathered on Penacony. Is it truely to deal with just Sunday and a Stellaron? When was the last time exactly these Aeons gathered from across the cosmos to deal with a crisis: The Swarm Disaster
Finally, more realistically speaking, 2.3 is Firefly's banner. What better way than to go out in a blaze of glory (3rd death) against the Swarm to end her story of Sam and begin her story as Firefly? (also this hypothesis gives Sunday an opportunity to redeem himself, which Hoyo likes to do for potential future banner characters)
tl;dr: The Swarm was the mastermind who brought the Stellaron to Penacony, hoping to hide within the Harmony/Order and absorb dream as power for rebirth.

I (F) have a best friend (F), basically wayyyy before me and my female girl best friend met I had a guy best friend.
When I met my gbsf (we’re gonna call her Lana and we’re gonna call her ex Alex) when I met Lana I was already best friends with Alex eventually Lana and Alex liked each other and ofc they told me they liked the other.
Lana told me she liked Alex and Alex told me he liked Lana so without selling the other out to them I got them together everything was perfect for 8 months until they started arguing, they would ask for my opinion and I opted to stay out of it. (Cause they’re both my bsfs tf I supposed to help you w?)
When they broke up it was so messy, tears, fighting,screaming, petty remarks , rumors, Lana threw milk on Alex at one point (just acting like children)
Anyways, recently it was Alex’s birthday I posted on my Snapchat “Happy birthday ”Alex” you’re a good friend and I’m grateful for you “ I said happy birthday because for my birthday he got me presents and said happy birthday to me I’m obviously gonna have fucking manners and be cordial?
Whatever whatever said happy birthday he said thank you, later in the day Lana swipes up Saying “crazy.” I said “I’m sorry, are you upset ?” She said “Ian even mad ts js weird you told me he was flirting with you and now you’re writing paragraphs about him?”
FIRSTLY, after they broke up he would try to flirt with me but I told him to shut it down and it makes me uncomfortable and he stopped and ofc I told her (that’s my bsf fuck?) but I’m sorry paragraphs about him? Baby I wrote 3 SENTENCE WORTH I WROTE 12 WORDS. And one of those words was tagging him.
Anyways she called me weird and said she wasn’t mad she was js finding it weird, but then Lana’s little sister texted me saying “why are you fucking writing paragraphs about him when yk how badly he hurt Lana” first of all it was 12 fucking words..I told her “it was a couple words he got me stuff and said happy birthday on my birthday all I said was happy birthday I don’t get the issue with this ?”
Lana’s little sister proceeded to ridicule me (she’s in 5th grade I’m not finna argue w a child 😂😂😂) and I js said okay, when this all started and Lana texted me she told me I sajd “I love you “ to him but I never did that was another girl so, what? Anyways our texts went like this
Me - “ Then I don’t remember saying I love you to him but on some real shit I’m sorry if I upset you n shit I would be mad too ik you deserve better n I rlly don’t wanna fight w you abt smth like this n I get where you’re coming from 100% you’re absolutely right n shi n honestly I’m sorry about making you feel like that I’m glad you told me and I’ll work to fix it At the end of the day you’re my bsf n I consider you a sister to me n you have every right to be mad I’ll give you space n shit to js think n be alone “
Lana - “okay well that’s still fucking weird”
Now here’s we’re I’m upset about, Lana is BEST FRIENDS WITH MY FUCKING EX.
My ex cheated on me, abused me, played w my feelings, barely committed to me, spread rumors about me etc. but Everytime he tries talking to her or play fighting her she play fights back or gets all giggly and laughs.
You’re mad at me for saying happy birthday but you wanna be friendly to someone who genuinely hurt me, I’m not saying he didn’t hurt her but I know everything that happened and I’m not finna put my homegirls business out there cause she still my day 1 idgaf but the beef was miscommunication over him play fighting girls.
I get you could be going through it but you not finna sit in my face and say I’m fucked up when you over here having Kumbaya moments.
Anyways sorry this js long but I genuinely love this girl I’ll take any advice or opinions you guys can give me I don’t wanna loose this girl I just can’t loose her she was with me when a loved one committed suicide she was with me when my dog died she’s been through it all with me
AITAH?
Edit 1 - I took someone’s advice and I told her she can’t control who I’m talking to but I understand why she wouldn’t like it I told her I’m uncomfortable with her being friends with my ex she proceeded to say im flipping the situation to make me look like the victim and lately she thinks I’m acting shady, weird and stuff I do is starting tk annoy her
For example she told me that when they broke up she thought I would have taken her side and completely cut him off she said she felt betrayed and that I was flirting with him because he doesn’t bring lunches to school (we’re juniors in high school) so I always offer some of my food (I always bring an extra yogurt or sandwhich or whatever I made that day because I know he’s gonna be hungry) and when I gave him my food she thought it was my “excuse to talk to him” I told her that’s ridiculous and I’d never let someone to hungry especially if I have extra food
I’ve been looking at her reposts on TikTok (yes I’m a stalker I js missssss my girlllll ) and she’s been reposting a bunch of stuff saying “these females doing me wrong” or js shit that says she got betrayed, when I made this post I was angry and needed to vent I worked out took my dog for a walk and now that I’m calm I’m not angry with her I’m just anxious she’s gonna end our friendship and I still don’t see the issue with me wishing someone a happy birthday I told her I was truly just trying to be cordial with him and that if nothing was going on between me and him before they dated nothings going to happen now ESPECIALLY if that’s her ex.
Plus Me and “Alex’s” friend (we’ll call him Leo) have been going on dates lately (dinners, picnics, watching movies at the others house, our families throwing like pool backyard stuff and inviting the other, etc ) so there’s quite literally nothing there between me and “Alex” “Leo”is a sweetheart and exactly my type “Alex” is the bipolar opposite of Leo but the two are best friends I told lana this and she said she wanted time and she didn’t know if she wanted to end the friendship with me because she quote on quote “Doesn’t know if she can trust me” and “doesn’t wanna interact with a potential snake”
She called me a potential snake..
I have no hard feelings towards Lana I’ve never been one to get hurt by words I just wanna let her get all her anger out she started getting disrespectful and I put my foot down and told her
“I know you’re angry but you have no fucking right to disrespect me when I’ve been nothing but logical and understanding with you I’ve tried getting your point and I’m sorry I caused you to hurt I really am but you can’t seem to calm down and be reasonable so please stop blowing my phone up and please only talk to me when you’re open to a logical unbiased conversation”
And I left it with that (I’ll fs give more updates)