I, 23 M, was so horny one night kaya nagpagisipan ko magbrowse online ng mga sex toys na obviously for me to use. Then, I stumbled upon this black rubber buttplug sa shoppe at okay naman ang reviews. Sabi it was the best plug na natry nila so na curious naman ako kung bakit. Never ko pa natry gumamit nun kasi sabi nila for beginners siya haha pero mukha naman ako beginner na hindi so... Inaadd to cart ko na and waited.
Dumating na yung araw ng delivery which is yesterday then kavoom pagkabukas ko sobrang laki nung plug! Yung girth (diameter) niya parang pang monster cock na nakikita ko sa kinky sites or manhwa iykyk. Dahil curious ako gusto ko itry kasi nandito naman na. Nagprepare na ako and everything para easy nalang yung insertion. To sum it up, half lang napasok. Medyo disapponted ako last night pero sabi ko ttry ko kinabukasan.
Sumapit na ang umaga at nagfreshen up na ako for work. I had this bold idea na ipasok parin habang naliligo kasi naudlot last night. I did everything I could lagyan ng soap then push further tapos napasok naman sa wakas. Medyo uncomfortable siya at first kasi sobrang laki. Na-feel ko na nahihit yung prostate ko at every movement. Nung tatanggalin ko na hindi ko na makuha! Nagpanic ako sa cr kaso kung magtatagal pa ako malalate na ako sa work. Kung gaano kahirap ipasok ganun din sa paglabas. Hnayaan ko nalang muna at nagmadaling magbihis.
Nakaalis na ako ng bahay while (yep u guess it) wearing the goddamn thing. It felt kinky kasi hindi alam ng mga nakakasalubong ko na may suot akong ganun. Pero hindi natatapos ang kalbaryong yun kasi nararamdaman ko na lumalaki yung bulge sa pants while walking. If i continue to move, tatayo at tatayo si junjun. Nung nakasakay na ako sa e-jeep, mas malala pa pala ang pagdadaanan ko kasi it felt like riding a dick. Tinatamaan yung prostate ko. Parang mababaliw na ako sa pagpipigil. Ganun ba naffeel niyo kapag gumagamit non??? Damn... Tiniis ko hanggang makarating sa work place.
Now, I'm sitting writing this whole madness while my ass is twitching from the pain. I want to jerk off so baaad. I'll wait for lunch break para tanggalin.
Help?

The shelter I'm staying at gives us a small semi early dinner at 4pm. I get really hungry because of my hrt, so most days I make the 10 minute walk to the nearest corner store. The time before last (I wasn't even going to the store, was walking past it to go to the library) I got shoes and water bottles thrown at me and they yelled "get on with that sideways shit". My shorts were a little short. And I had a crop top on. But it is summer in Texas and hot as hell. I don't expose my belly for attention, I just love how the wind feels on it! Sue me bitches.
Walking out today I got a water bottle thrown at me again and I dodged it ever so gracefully and didn't even look back. I'm not interacting with them but also not showing fear. These people make me sad. It's literally free to be nice to others... And spreading positivity feels amazing like wtffffffffff. I hope things do not escalate beyond this. I have mad ninja dodging skills, it's whatever. I will not let fear stop me from shining and feeling my best (which is when I have snacks) ✨💙
I love you all, it is time for me to watch anime until sleep blesses thy eyelids 💙

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.

Hi there,
Im a student headed for an exchange semester (Fall) at UofT, I have been advised that as I don't qualify for guaranteed on campus housing, I should apply to some of the independednt student residences. The ones I can see that allow leases for a single semester are

1. Hoem on Jarvis (1,2 & 3 semester leases available, furnished rooms)
2. Tartu College (4, 8 and 12 month leases; furnished with optional meal plans)
3. Neill-Wycik Co-op College (Short-term flexible leases)
4. Campus Co-operative Residence (Affordable room rates)

Which of these would you suggest are the best for social interaction over a short semester. I can apply to the on campus colleges but only via a waitlist which supposedly has low chances of working, do you think its worth applying to every college in this way aswell as some external housing? Should I look for a sharehouse with a few individual people?
Thanks alot.

I have the PG248QP I am able to apply 500hz on cod mw3 it runs fine, but on cod black ops Cold War it only lets me apply 360hz. The 500hz option is there in game but it just don’t let me apply it. Any help appreciated

I'll try to keep this brief but I have a lot to say and I tend to ramble. I (20F but 19 at the time) have been broken up with my ex (20F) for almost a year now. When we first ended things I felt SO MUCH RELIEF I was in almost a euphoric state for the first week or two. I knew she was extremely toxic but didn't care to question it because I was just so happy to never have to see or speak to her again but quickly that wore off and I realized just how terribly she treated me. In the past month or two it's starting to get to me again after a few conversations with close friends where I told the stories of things she did to me, hoping to have a laugh at the absurdity but underneath realizing just how much she put me through. I still can't accept that it was truly mental or emotional or verbal etc. abuse. I guess I just want somebody to tell me if I'm victimizing myself, or if my mental illness is making me delusional if I was the real abuser the whole time, or if we were both toxic (all her words). I just wanna list off some of the things she did, partially for myself to lay it all out and partially to ask everyone here if I'm the problem or if she was just toxic w/o being "abusive". I'm avoiding specific details because I don't want anyone I know to stumble upon this and know it's me so apologies if theres little context but here it is:

• biggest one on the top: when we first got together I had just gotten out of a relationship and was struggling metally. I had been in therapy for a while before we met and started mood stablizers soon after we were together. she constantly would use this against me to tell me i'm crazy, that my mental illness was ruining our relationship, that i was "a disease", that I was just like her crazy ex etc.
  
• another huge one! she insisted on extravagant expensive gifts then later expected unquestioned obedience because of it. when i caught on to this and began denying gifts it would cause arguments
  
  • i identified as bisexual at the time which she constantly used against me. if we were ever in the presence of men, even if i didnt interact with them, she would get mad and either give me the silent treatment or start an argument about it. when i expressed multiple times that I may not be attracted to men she would get angry because it proved to her how "easily impressionable" i am
  • constant lies. about things my friends or even my mom had said allegedly about me (they never did), about things that she had or hadn't done, she would even tell lies to my friends and mother about things that I had allegedly said about them (i never did) even right in front of me but she was so convincing to everyone around us that I seemed like the liar no matter how much i denied or explained
  • insults! mainly about me but also my friends and family
  • always wanting a reaction so that she could then point to me as an abuser. e.g: screaming at me and throwing things until i removed myself into a seperate room where she followed me and recorded me without my knowlege as she taunted me until I yelled at her to leave me alone, then played back the recording to show me how poorly i talk her
• she told me so many times that my majors were not as difficult or as important and I "couldn't possibly understand" how much more effort and intellect it took for what she studied (we're both in college and I'm literally a double major!! if that matters)
  
  • told me she was embarrassed of me because my interests and hobbies weren't "resume-worthy"
  • belittled my morals and values, the things i thought were important whether they were big things or small, and my plans for the future
  • controlling to an INTENSE degree. e.g: getting upset with me because i wouldn't let HER floss MY teeth or threatening to break up with me because I wouldn't hide my stuffed animals in the closet when she came over
  • laughed and called me things like pathetic unstable when i would try to tell her certain things she said and did were hurting me. was just all around very cruel and mericless with her words to the point where I seriously think she was nearly incapable of empathy
  • she told me things about myself as if they were fact. this one is hard to explain but for instance: "you just let your s/o's walk all over you" or "youre just not a hard worker". it was said so causally and matter of factly that it wasn't even an insult just an absolute truth she had observed
  • things she admitted to before we broke up: when i opened up to her about my ex and things i went through as a child she later admitted that she was happy that i was "weak" and would tolerate poor treatment. she admitted that she would poke and taunt and yell her own mother until she got the reaction she wanted so that she point out "how crazy she was acting". she admitted to reading my journal the first time she came over to see the excerpts of my ex and, again, figure out just how badly she could treat me.
  • I do want to say that she never actually hit me or physically assualted me but she would often imitate in the moment that she was about to (partially because she wanted to hit me, and partially because she knew it would trigger me because I was abused as a child, again she admitted this part)
  • in arguments: deflected, shifted blame, gaslit, yelled, threw things, hit nearby objects, etc. these arguments would go in circles for hours with the topics ending up miles away from what the intital point was. things typically went from "that didnt happen" to "it did happen but i didnt mean it" to "i meant it but you deserved it". even when I gave in that wasn't enough, she would just leave and ignore me for a day or two
  • she often wouln't take accountability and instead would try to psychoanalyze why what she did upset me, blaming it on my childhood or my ex but never on her actions
  • profuse apologies afterwards. she always promised to stop and to go to therapy but that never happened. somehow she was able to do this without ever actually acknowleging that what she did was wrong
  • i won't go into detail but when it came to bedroom activites there were a few rare times when consent was ... unclear. especially near the end when she was often insistent that I would drink more (she was sober)
  • when i caught on to these patterns by calling her out for fake apologies, gaslighting, lying, manipulation, not taking the bait by reacting, sticking to my boundaries, not letting her deflect in arguments etc. she would throw full temper tantrums. screaming crying throwing herself on the ground type of tantrums. I was so drained at that point that all i could do was just sit and watch and wait for her to stop
  • her poor mom had gotten it for 20 years before me. she told me multiple times to get out of the relationship but i never listened. I hope shes doing well but i'm afraid that checking up on her might invite my ex back into my life

i'm sure that when i post this i'll think of a million more things but this is what i could think of off the top of my head sorry its so long. Writing this all out its so clear that this wasnt normal but i still constantly question whether im just erasing my own hand in it, refusing to acknowlege all the harmful things i did or how i somehow forced her to be this way, if i truly am just so delusional that i made all of this up because i want to be a victim, if i was the one who abused her first, if its my fault because i stayed and let it happen. and if none of those things are true then what do i do from here? I'm moved on and so insanely happy to be single and never have to interact with her again but i'm realizing more and more how much it has affected me.
tldr: my ex gf fits a ton of the criteria for an abuser but i still question whether i am making it up and/or if im the actual abuser just manipulating the situation for my own gain. if i'm not the abuser then how do i accept it and not be affected by it anymore?

I started getting sick (sore throat, congestion, sneezing, coughing) and it’s been hell. Honestly I’d take an extra week with drains instead of being sick.
It’s also been hard because I’m on wellbutrin and I have negative interactions with typical cold medicine, particularly dextromethorphan (cough suppressant) so I have been relying on expectorant, decongestants, cough drops, teas, sleeping next to a humidifier, etc.
Luckily it’s not hurting too much to cough but sneezing hurts. It’s more annoying than anything as I’ve been sneezing like crazy. Also, I think my lymph nodes are swollen or something because my armpits hurt real bad, they feel sore and swollen.
I’m really worried getting sick is going to affect how my scars heal or just the healing process in general. On the other hand, should I not be too worried that I got sick now since my immune system is already focusing on healing myself? I’m just trying to think positively but also want to be realistic. Haven’t had a fever and I’ve been testing negative for covid.
I’m seeing my doctor tomorrow for my first post op appointment. I’m pretty sure I will be getting my drains out as the output has been less than 15ml for more than 3 days now. Fingers crossed being sick won’t change anything.
Anyone else experience getting sick shortly after getting top surgery? Was there anything you did that helped get through it?

I (23F) grew up in an extremely rural, non diverse area. When I was younger ( around 15) I moved to a more diverse area and started working at a chain resturant. One of my coworkers (25 Ish at the time) who was a black woman, always wore her hair natural but on this day she had straightened her hair. I am someone who compliments people a lot. If I see someone wearing something that I like, I will always go out of my way to give a quick “I love your shoes!” or “Your makeup looks beautiful!”. So, noticing that she had seemingly put in extra effort to do something new to her hair, naturally I said “You did your hair different! It looks pretty!” I didnt think twice of it, but she turned around, gave me the nastiest look, and said “Just an FYI, most black women actually DONT like it when you comment on straight hair.” I was taken aback, because I didnt mean to offend her, and because I didnt grow up in a diverse area, I had no idea that this would be seen as offensive. I gave her a quick apology, just saying “Im sorry, I didnt know that comment was offensive, thank you for letting me know.” I havent thought about that interaction in YEARS, seeing as Ive moved on in life, moved to a different city, and had many phases of life (graduating highschool, graduating college, starting my career, literally a lifetime) given its been nearly 8 years. Me and her are still mutuals on social media. I was scrolling through twitter when I saw that she had quote tweeted a post. The OG post was “What is the dumbest thing a YT person has ever told you?”, she quote tweeted the story, but added a lot of derogatory launguage about my weight at the time (I was nearly 200 pounds, I have since lost over 90 pounds), saying that the “fat white bitch needed to worry more about what she was eating than what I was doing to my hair.” I am genuinely confused. I understand now, as a woman in her early 20s with much more life under her belt, that its better to not comment on black peoples hair, but I really dont think this two second interaction that happened when she was in her mid twenties and when I was a sophomore in high school warranted this kind of hate. She also commented on my hair at the time (I went through an “emo phase”, deciding to dye my hair pink and black) saying that at least she could afford to go to a hair salon, instead of having to resort to “cheap ass” home methods. I am at a loss, we were pretty cool other than that small interaction and have not talked in years. AITA? Was my comment really that offensive?

Was super excited to put this together with these amazing people!!! Celebrating the release of Superblack, we present: Everything Black!! We appreciate everyone's support with this! We also wanted to showcase all of the new maps when Into The Light dropped! Hope you enjoy!! P.S. surprise at the end :) Everything Black (Superblack) <------- 4k Version on YouTube
All on Twitter:
@BulkerGamer - LeadeCoordinatoRecorder @Savannathun @Ravioli1911 @MrTragicX @Knowah721 @Osmjau93 @Slideshot_ - Me, OP :)

Well this was my very first year participating in the madness lol. Out of 300+ Releases , Honestly only 2 were MUST haves for me which were , My Life With The Thrill Kill- Kult Kooler Than Jesus EP.
With 11.5x11.5 blotter sheet Limited to 775 & & Garbage - Lie to Me EP. Limited to 3k
Luckily I was able to get those among the rest. Gotta admit Alot of stress & anxiety comes with this day. It's completely turned into something else which I do not know how it was before but I've heard it was a much better environment, with more actual music fans & that type of crowd etc not the people scared to even say what vinyl there getting or straight lie to u in the face about it lol anyways ended up spending $370 on all these SMH plus 1 more Olivia (not pictured).
My only regrets are falling for the resale hype buying the Noah koan BS , honestly was just trying 2 justify spending so much. since I did everything ALMOST right though I figured I'd try to get one for resale & those things won't even sell for face value! 🤣. That kid completely conned RSD by releasing the album 2 days later after he was the #1 selling artist prior so they FLOODED RSD 24 with 30k releases that were ALL bought from him) Republic (including the EP) but that was 15k x $39 that could have went to the local record store on a normal release aka a huge part of what the whole thing is about keeping them in business instead Noah koan was #1 this year again according to Billboard.com so there marketing obviously worked even i fell for it loll. So I guess I'm stuck with that haha but other than that the only things I wanted that I could not get were DELORES OREDION are you listening Dio Zoetrope Black Sabbath Paranoid UK RSD Tricky Angels with Dirty Faces RSD UK Noel Gallagher Lil peep & Dead or Alive.
But id say I did good this year and I'm excited for Black Friday just hoping the list will be better this year.

Character Name: ⇨ Charolette Charlie Emily Media: ⇨ Fnaf games Looking for...: ⇨ Dada (Henry) , Mama (Mrs Emily) nd Sammy Do Not Interact...: ⇨ doubles, William (kind of iffy) Body Age: ⇨ 16 General Information ⇨ as far as I remember I'm pretty compliant to the game lore Memories ⇨ I don't remember too much but, I remember some type of black void for a bit before becoming aware of what happened and realizing I possessed the marionette. Shadow Bonnie's music box was always playing in the background when I was trapped in the pizzeria, papa had light brown hair and blue eyes, mama had brown hair and green eyes, Sammy had brown hair and brown eyes, I had curly hair and brown eyes, I wore a green jumper a lot with a white shirt and a hair bow, I was tan I was about 3 at the time everything happened so I don't remember too much. The other kids had dragged me outside that night I believe, papa was in his office working that night. I don't even know if this is all correct it's all so blurry before the incident.

Yo ik this sub is going dark soon but I'm at a loss and hoping for some input to direct me on how to find the information or anything really.
Q: how long can a landlord have contractors working in a property that's actively lived in?. Like is there acceptable business hours?
Edit: we live in Missouri Montgomery county
Basically my fiancee and I live in a shared living space. A duplex if u will. Tbh it's a trailer with an addition. Both spaces have a bedroom and a living room with shared kitchen. Possibly a shared bathroom but It wasn't part of the original agreement.
So our old "roommate" a crackhead who stole a lot from us. Finally got kicked out after a year + of not paying. She let him stay so long bc we where paying. Rediculous in my mind but that's beside the point rn.
The landlord wanted to "remodel" a lot of stuff when he moved out 2 months ago. She didn't do anything for the first month and a half. A few days ago she says our new roomie is moving in this Thursday. And she's been trying to "redo" it all in the 11 days. She's been very irregular in providing notice often telling us at 7-10pm that's she or her "handyman" will be here at 8am. Only once have we denied entry bc of lack of notice. The real issue is that she's wanting us to let the handyman in before we leave for our jobs. Leaving him here with all our stuff and free access to all but the locked bedroom (pets I don't want to be lost)
Today we had to leave a key out for him to come in at 8 am while we slept. (we both work nights and this was the easiest solution) so he came in at 8am. Around 9am the landlady came in to (save money and paint herself) w.e. it's our day off so we slept till 4pm to make up sleep. At 2pm she left and texts my man that the handyman will be working a bit longer to get some stuff done bc she's pressed for time (why'd u wait a month before doing anything. And set a date for the new tenant if u weren't ready??) at 7pm we called and asked her how much longer he was going to be working. He's hammering all day. And the paint thinner is so strong in the house I threw up as soon as I woke up. Both of us have headaches. No windows open or anything. Anyway at 7 she says she'll talk to him. My man left the room (we've been hiding from the smell) and heard him answer the phone and talk to her.... And 45 min later he's still working with no sign of stopping. So my man goes and asks him.dudes A little rude says the landlord never called and is mad. Whatever. He finally leaves at 8pm.
Also I'd like to mention the handyman had his woman helping him (fine) and his two young children in the car. They keep going in and out of our house to talk to Mom and dad. (Not fine)
That's the exact reason why I don't want to leave some random handyman in the house as long as he wants when we work nights. Like he could be bringing them here to sleep and leave before we get home and we'd never know.
Also mentioning how we have black mold but it's more important to her to remodel then to fix the black mold.
So how long can a landlord have contractors working in a property that's actively lived in?. Like is there acceptable business hours?

Long time lurker, first time redditoposter. I've been listening and reading a lot of these horror stories and figured it might be fun to share mine.
I haven't actually played a game of DnD or DnD adjacent since about 2020/2021, mostly because of what transpired during the games I actually did play before that. I love the concept, I love creating characters and stories and worlds, but I get a pit in my stomach when I actually try to play again.
I had my first opportunity to play DnD my freshman year of college. I dropped in on the campus tabletop club and I was quite anxious. I was the only girl in the room, everyone seemed to have known each other or clicked well, but I wanted to branch out of my comfort zone. The first night went well! We played a very quick heist one shot where we made a character with one flaw and one interesting trait. Through unfortunate rolls and circumstances, we had a TPK, but it was a fun time. I was invited afterwards to join a Pathfinder campaign that a few of the members were going to start up for the new semester, and so I scheduled a time to meet with the DM and create my first full fledged character.
Now, the DM was kind of eccentric, a little whack if you will but very excited to help me make my first character. I thought he was just goofy and really into the game. God I wish I picked up on all the red flags that would come.
He first asked me what kind of race I'd like to play as. I had always been drawn to tiefling characters because I liked the aesthetic. His eyes lit up at that for some reason. Then he asked what class I'd like; if I'd like to be primarily a support or tank or what have you. I didn't want to get overwhelmed in my first game and thought support might be nice. I could watch how combat worked while just keeping everyone going and buffed. I said let's try bard! The grin that crept up on his face...
He immediately started talking about how saucy that would be, how my character would be so flirty and fun. I expressed some discomfort in having my character immediately fall into the "h*rny bard" category I had seen meme'd on so much, but he laughed and waved it off by saying he "was a theater kid in high school! Everyone was super h*orny and making out backstage all the time. It just comes with the environment!" Being a new player, and wanting to fit in, I pushed down my discomfort and thought okay, I'll play her as a joke character I guess.
For awhile it was fine, I got to play her as a dancelyre player who was part of a traveling circus. Nothing weird was coming up the first few sessions. Most of the other PCs either joined together by taking quests from the town job board, or had ties built in to their backstory. My first red flag should have been that the DM, despite constantly raving about all his planning, was frequently skipping around the story. He would suddenly decide the plot point we were on wasn't interesting enough for some reason, and just throw us into another scenario. We left so many lose ends because he just didn't feel like finishing them, regardless of if we were engaging in it or not. But hey, he's the DM right? That's what I thought, he had the right to change it. I had no prior experience to see this was just bad DMing.
We ended up joining an archery competition as we were tempted by a mystery grand prize. At the sign up table, out of nowhere, the DMPC attending to registration suddenly starts flirting with my character. I got flustered in a negative way because this DM got very into character (giving me looks, leaning in as he spoke to me, the whole shebang). I panicked, all of a sudden being the focus of a room full of men seeing how I'd react to it. I again, stupidly, went along with it. I had her (nervously) flirt back lightly, and I was relieved it didn't go much further at that point. Skipping to the end of the archery competition, my bard ended up in the final two and sabotaged an assassination on the town's mayor mid competition. The party was invited to a celebratory dinner at the mayor's house afterwards, where we once again ran into the NPC that flirted with my character at registration. He invited her to bed, and again I got extremely uncomfortable and flustered. None of this was discussed beforehand, nor was I even asked if I was comfortable with such topics before joining the campaign. The guys at the table were egging me on, and I felt pressured to accept. With a few hoots and hollers, we had a fade to black scene (thank god). I went home feeling very icky, but convinced myself I was being a wimp. And the table had enjoyed my antics that night, so I should be grateful.
I had the thought between sessions to write in a childhood friends to lovers interest for my bard to try and avoid any more unexpected encounters like that again, thinking if the DM had another character to play as with some personal tie to my bard, that would make be feel better about the interactions. He was brought up once, where I milked the f*ck out of my character's attachment to him, hoping to drive home that this was juicy potential relationship to build over the campaign. He never came up again during that campaign. The DM also completely disregarded many of the notes I gave him detailing this love interest's personality, and took many 'creative liberties' with him, but not enough where I would decide to say something.
Another few sessions happened where we struggled through the DMs inconsistent storytelling and jumping around to whatever plot point had his interest at the moment. He was constantly putting us in fights we could not hope to win, way too challenging for our lvl. 1-3 party. We often sat around the table in disappointment and defeat as we got absolutely destroyed by monsters (no one being able to land hits for sometimes 3-4 rounds at a time because of how high the AC or CR was), while the DM laughed and basked in the dreary nature of the table. He would usually eventually fudge rolls to give us an out when we were close to TPKs. He even gave us a deck of many things and insisted our PCs "felt compelled" to pull cards despite the players disagreeing they that wanted to. He attempted to force my character to drastically change her alignment to an evil one for shits and giggles because of one card pull (later allowed me to ignore it because I didn't even WANT to use the deck), and got three of us killed by having them pull a card that summoned the highest CR monster you could use.
One night he texts the group chat that he decided he's done running that story, and wants to run another one shot instead. We had one last session to "close" that first campaign and discuss the one shot options. During our meeting, he gleefully admitted to me that he had planned for my bard to get PREGNANT in that one night stand with the NPC from the archery competition. Not only did he plan to do that without my consent or knowledge, he had planned for it to be a HAG baby that would have entirely f*cked my PC up (he explained it as the man having been a witch in disguise or something?? And said that's how hags are made? Which to my knowledge is entirely incorrect. Maybe it was a homebrew rule, but regardless, I was mortified. And now very grateful he lost interest in that campaign).
Moving on to the one shot, another player decided to try DMing, and so the Problem DM had a chance to be a PC, yay! He privately messaged me and asked if I'd be interested in connecting our characters and their backstories. I said yes and we got to work. We spent a few nights discussing their dynamic and I was really excited to go into this game. Well, come the night of the session, we were going around the table introducing our characters. The Problem DM went before me, and introduced an entirely different character than the one we discussed, and one that would often almost kill us during the one shot (to which the guy would cackle and mock us for getting upset each time). I asked him what happened to our plan, and he said earlier that day he decided he wanted to do something different. I sighed and let it go, because at least it was just a one shot and my character could still function without his connection to the other PC. Another one shot where the Problem DM got to be a PC, he seemed to make it his goal to be the biggest asshole to everyone else's character. My PC was an archaeologist, and when she excitedly discovered some old pottery in a dungeon, he had his PC run up and smash everything and laugh in her face.
The next campaign we tried that had issues was a Starfinder campaign. Our party was considered its own crew for a space ship, plus one DMPC that was placed into the mix supposedly to help us if we fell short, since we were all unfamiliar with Starfinder and spaceship battle mechanics. She was honestly a really cool character! And we had one or two sessions to establish the story and how the crew interacted. Now, this was my mistake, not taking any of the other creepy habits of the DM into consideration, but I offhandedly mentioned to the table at large that my PC (a woman) might be developing a crush on this DMPC (also a woman). They had gone through a lot together in-game at that point and it felt natural. The next session, you'll never guess, the DMPC started flirting hard core with my character. I was confused and asked the DM what that was about, as we had never had any interactions between those two that would be read as romantic. Even if I mentioned my character was crushing, she had never let it on, and the DMPC had never indicated she felt a similar pull as well. The DM didn't really have an explanation, just that apparently in-universe, the DMPC had been flirting more and more with my character since their last adventure together alone. I thought, okay, I guess...
Honestly? What transpired would have been an insanely cool plot twist if we had had the time to actually roleplay and develop the relationship between my character and the DMPC, as well as the crew at large and the DMPC. She ended up being part of a cult that wanted to steal an artifact we had acquired. She was apparently trying to 'romance' my PC because my PC was the one who often guarded the artifact, and needed her to let her guard down. It would have been a super impactful betrayal, but it was literally only a handful of sessions between the first meeting, and the plot twist. We just had to trust the DMs word that we had all gotten super attached to her between actual session meetings and we all should feel like we were stabbed in the back by this trusted individual. And I especially should feel heartbroken because she never really was interested in me anyway.
Later on down the line, despite some very interesting story points, it got creepy again. Our PCs ended up being sucked into a death game show, and isolated from the outside world while being broadcast to universal TV stations. At some point we were all given access to the internet after a few weeks in isolation to search up anything we wanted. Everyone searched up their names among other things. The DM described us finding our newly formed fanbases. He described the other PCs fanbases (men played by men) as having hot debates on their intelligence and decisions during the show, or bets on if they'd be the last ones standing; that sort of stuff. He described my fanbase as leering creeps saying the most unhinged things about what they wanted my PC to do to them s*xually, as well as some spreading photos of my PC without her face covering (she was a Kasatha, which canonically keep their mouths covered. But she had been forced to remove it briefly when it almost waterboarded her after she fell into a river).
Eventually, we weren't able to meet consistently enough to warrant running campaigns anymore, and I fell out of touch with all involved. Oh, we also lost a player at some point right after he confessed to me and I declined his interest.
I went another year not playing before another friend group of mine invited me to play as a guest character. I thought this would be a nice way to ease back into the game slowly after my horrid experiences before. Rather than make an entirely new character for one or two sessions, I brought back my tiefling bard because I still really liked her character, and had started to reshape her personality without being pressured to have her be a s*xual chess piece. The new DM dropped my character in a labyrinth their current party had been trapped in for awhile. I was made to be a level or two higher and be an ally they encountered to help them escape. We did, it was fun! But I was only there as a guest, and had only planned my character to be in one to two sessions before leaving. I was consistently mentioning to the party that my PC would be leaving as soon as they get to her major city, but either they didn't think I was serious or didn't remember. I may have been convinced to come on full time, but unfortunately, history repeats itself. We got to a session where the party got to a tavern and drowned their sorrows and nursed their labyrinth bruises with beer, and the idea of a threesome was thrown in the air between my PC and two others. Now, half of this group were dating someone else in the group, and seemed very comfortable roleplaying casual s*x between their PCs because of it. They started a damn chant pressuring me to say yes, already trying to roleplay it, and I felt sick. I was too anxious at the idea of saying no with how aggressive everyone was for me to agree, so I tried to "roll for yes or no" as an out; the dice failed me, and it rolled a number assigned to yes. I was very quiet the rest of the session, and afterwards messaged the DM that I want my character to leave at the beginning of the next session.
The DM then tried to convince me to stay, despite me saying a clear no multiple times within the same conversation. They begged me to stay saying the party loved my PC a lot, and they would hate to lose me. When they finally relented, they then tried to smoothly transition to talk of making me a new character so I could permanently stay with the party, without compromising my bards story and decision. I kind of got on their case about that, and told them to stop pressuring me and I did not want to play with that group anymore. Eventually, they gave up, but not without some low key guilt tripping.
I tried playing with one more group after this, and while it didn't get creepy, it was also a disappointment as none of the players seemed to care besides me and the DM, despite everyone having encouraged starting the game because they wanted to learn how to play for the first time. Players slowly started ghosting us, drama happened between two players that joined just to have an excuse to talk and try and date (which ended up very messy and they both left), and the new players would get angry at me or the DM if they got confused with the rules or combat dynamics (the wizard rushed ahead of me, the tank barbarian, and then acted like it was my fault when they nearly got killed in the first round because "the tank is supposed to protect the damage dealers").
The DM and I stayed in contact after all the other players ghosted the chat, and ended up bringing over some other new players who had also played before, and re hauled the campaign. This one had so much promise...then quarantine hit, and we couldn't keep up with regular meetings.
At this point, with all my games ending with creeps, messy player dynamics or falling through, I decided maybe these kinds of games weren't for me.
I have new friends now inviting me to play, who have very functional groups (experienced professional DMs, closeknit friend groups, long-running campaigns), but I am too wary to accept any more offers for games, despite deep down really wanting to try again and be part of something I know can be amazing. Maybe I will one day, but until then, I just have these horror stories to think about.

I've proceeded to analyse tominecon_decoy.7z, to hopefully give you some hints / useful info:

"data" file - decoy.7z

I've checked it's distribution to see if it's a random file (probably created with dd from /dev/urandom) or in fact an encrypted file. It's most likely pure random data.

#=============================================================================# # dieharder version 3.31.1 Copyright 2003 Robert G. Brown # #=============================================================================# rng_name filename rands/second mt19937 data 1.82e+08 #=============================================================================# test_name ntup tsamples psamples p-value Assessment #=============================================================================# diehard_birthdays 0 100 1000.14824994 PASSED diehard_operm5 0 1000000 1000.99221054 PASSED diehard_rank_32x32 0 40000 1000.62322888 PASSED diehard_rank_6x8 0 100000 1000.94647366 PASSED diehard_bitstream 0 2097152 1000.39253237 PASSED diehard_opso 0 2097152 1000.75828360 PASSED diehard_oqso 0 2097152 1000.87984506 PASSED diehard_dna 0 2097152 1000.29672829 PASSED diehard_count_1s_str 0 256000 1000.73366092 PASSED diehard_count_1s_byt 0 256000 1000.20492264 PASSED diehard_parking_lot 0 12000 1000.14511226 PASSED diehard_2dsphere 2 8000 1000.27126738 PASSED diehard_3dsphere 3 4000 1000.54520320 PASSED diehard_squeeze 0 100000 1000.78978626 PASSED diehard_sums 0 100 1000.00770937 PASSED diehard_runs 0 100000 1000.04017858 PASSED diehard_runs 0 100000 1000.62921475 PASSED diehard_craps 0 200000 1000.26167301 PASSED diehard_craps 0 200000 1000.97952518 PASSED marsaglia_tsang_gcd 0 10000000 1000.91089978 PASSED marsaglia_tsang_gcd 0 10000000 1000.65922260 PASSED sts_monobit 1 100000 1000.85781635 PASSED sts_runs 2 100000 1000.99942293 WEAK 

"secret.mp4" file - decoy.7z

Transcript.srt (Whisper v2)

1 00:00:00,000 00:00:06,000 Kids get the best of it with WDCA Channel 20 in Washington, D.C. 2 00:00:06,000 00:00:14,000 Think twice before you answer. 3 00:00:14,000 00:00:16,000 Think twice. 4 00:00:16,000 00:00:20,000 Think twice before you say yes. 5 00:00:20,000 00:00:23,000 Think twice before you answer. 6 00:00:23,000 00:00:26,000 Think twice before you say yes. 7 00:00:26,000 00:00:28,000 You know, I know y'all saying this and that. 8 00:00:28,000 00:00:31,000 Look at this food. Got this watermelon here. 9 00:00:31,000 00:00:36,000 The reason why I say think twice is because... 10 00:00:36,000 00:00:40,000 That's giving me a little air. That'll give me a little air, y'all. 11 00:00:40,000 00:00:45,000 The reason why I say think twice is because... 12 00:00:45,000 00:00:54,000 I just can't understand how we as black people started eating watermelon in the closet. 13 00:00:54,000 00:00:57,000 Lord have me. 14 00:00:57,000 00:01:00,000 This is called the heart. 15 00:01:00,000 00:01:06,000 You know, it makes me feel so bad sometimes when I see black... 16 00:01:06,000 00:01:08,000 My black brothers and sisters. 17 00:01:08,000 00:01:14,000 And they'll see me eating a piece of watermelon like this here. 18 00:01:14,000 00:01:17,000 And they'll go... 19 00:01:17,000 00:01:20,000 And they'll go to frown their faces on me. That's despicable. 20 00:01:20,000 00:01:22,000 But it's good. 21 00:01:22,000 00:01:24,000 And you know the thing that makes me mad? 22 00:01:24,000 00:01:28,000 When I go to their parties, they will take a big pretty watermelon like this... 23 00:01:28,000 00:01:31,000 And cut all kinds of gadgets. 24 00:01:31,000 00:01:34,000 And then cut the inside. 25 00:01:34,000 00:01:36,000 You see this good piece of watermelon here? 26 00:01:36,000 00:01:39,000 Cut all the guts out that good watermelon. 27 00:01:39,000 00:01:42,000 And mix it up and mess it up with something else. 28 00:01:42,000 00:01:44,000 Man, sometimes they got a notion to put liquor in it. 29 00:01:44,000 00:01:49,000 And then after they cut them little crevices in it, then put it back inside of that hood. 30 00:01:50,000 00:01:55,000 Man, that's a waste of watermelon when all you got to do with it is pick it up like this here. 31 00:01:55,000 00:01:58,000 Look here, let's pick it up like this here. 32 00:02:03,000 00:02:05,000 I don't mess it up. 33 00:02:05,000 00:02:07,000 I can work my eye out. 34 00:02:07,000 00:02:10,000 That's the way you eat a watermelon. 35 00:02:10,000 00:02:13,000 And I don't care if you use a PHD, if you use a whatever. 36 00:02:13,000 00:02:17,000 You can't tell me cutting all that out, putting it back in there. 37 00:02:20,000 00:02:22,000 Yeah, Lord. 38 00:02:22,000 00:02:24,000 It's better than this here. 39 00:02:24,000 00:02:26,000 Now, I know you're sitting at home. 40 00:02:26,000 00:02:28,000 That's an ignorant nigga. 41 00:02:28,000 00:02:30,000 But this is a sweet watermelon. 42 00:02:30,000 00:02:34,000 I ain't going to waste no time cutting no watermelon up and mixing it up in no fruit cocktail. 43 00:02:34,000 00:02:37,000 All I'm saying to you, be yourself. 44 00:02:37,000 00:02:39,000 Because I went to a party the other night with some white folks. 45 00:02:39,000 00:02:40,000 They didn't have it in that thing there. 46 00:02:40,000 00:02:41,000 They had slices. 47 00:02:41,000 00:02:43,000 Walk around, Peter Green, you want a slice? 48 00:02:43,000 00:02:44,000 I said, yeah, give me a slice. 49 00:02:44,000 00:02:48,000 One of them, they said, I don't think, I didn't think you blacks eat watermelon like that. 50 00:02:48,000 00:02:50,000 You can't eat watermelon like that no more. 51 00:02:50,000 00:02:52,000 I said, look, lady, don't try to get out on me, you understand? 52 00:02:52,000 00:02:55,000 You just want to eat the good part and want me to cut it all up and do it. 53 00:02:55,000 00:02:59,000 And then, you know, I was mad with niggas for putting salt on a watermelon until two old bamboos. 54 00:02:59,000 00:03:02,000 I was talking to two cold-blooded country bamboos. 55 00:03:02,000 00:03:04,000 And I said, why y'all put salt on watermelons? 56 00:03:04,000 00:03:05,000 Niggas were a man in my home. 57 00:03:05,000 00:03:07,000 I said, you know, I'm down in that bottom in Virginia. 58 00:03:07,000 00:03:08,000 I said, let me tell you about salt, Peter. 59 00:03:08,000 00:03:11,000 He said, you Washington niggas put too much salt on it. 60 00:03:11,000 00:03:13,000 I said, I watched you, Peter. 61 00:03:13,000 00:03:21,000 You dump salt on it and say you put a twang of salt on a sweet melon and it brings out like accent. 62 00:03:21,000 00:03:22,000 I said, what you say? 63 00:03:22,000 00:03:24,000 He said, man, I love watching you Washington people. 64 00:03:24,000 00:03:26,000 Y'all dump salt on it like you got chicken. 65 00:03:26,000 00:03:29,000 He said, but you twang it. 66 00:03:29,000 00:03:31,000 I never knew that. 67 00:03:31,000 00:03:37,000 But I just want to sit here this evening and let y'all know there's two things you don't do. 68 00:03:37,000 00:03:42,000 Don't cut the insides out of no watermelon and mix it with nothing else. 69 00:03:42,000 00:03:46,000 And don't put no two sticks around a corner rochner. 70 00:03:46,000 00:03:48,000 You know, y'all niggas put two sticks. 71 00:03:48,000 00:03:49,000 Don't do that. 72 00:03:49,000 00:03:55,000 You get one of them big rochners, saturate it with some butter and hit that. 73 00:03:55,000 00:03:57,000 Be yourself. 74 00:03:57,000 00:04:01,000 And always remember that I got it off the vine. 75 00:04:01,000 00:04:02,000 It's sweet like, honey. 76 00:04:02,000 00:04:04,000 And I'll plug it all the time. 77 00:04:04,000 00:04:06,000 Sit back, y'all. 78 00:04:06,000 00:04:08,000 This nigga's good and crazy. 79 00:04:08,000 00:04:09,000 Hold it, boy. 80 00:04:09,000 00:04:14,000 I tell y'all just. 81 00:04:14,000 00:04:17,000 Adjust the color in the taco. 82 00:04:17,000 00:04:19,000 Give yourself a slice of watermelon. 83 00:04:19,000 00:04:22,000 And get ready to groove with Petey Green's White. 84 00:04:52,000 00:05:21,000 Mm hmm. 85 00:05:21,000 00:05:48,000 Mm hmm. 86 00:05:48,000 00:05:49,000 Mm hmm. 

https://chat.openai.com/share/e/6f2d2803-f158-4d03-811f-366c8900ac35

TLDR: called 911 because I can’t stand the active psychosis and the ranting and raving and threatening me. Started a scuffle, I got hurt. He went to jail. If there were better resources for us we would have had help before it came to this. But he won’t agree to antipsychotics outside the “system”. So back he goes around and around. I really don’t want to deal with anything……BUT I NEED TO: consider either a restraining order or filing a request for the state to assign him a guardian.
Had to call 911 on my loved one / ex partner who is unmedicated schizophrenic. I have no idea what set off this episode but I suspect stealing others medication (stimulants) or buying them from someone. I am constantly fooled into thinking that he is doing fine and he was taking some medication (not antipsychotics) that usually keeps him pretty stable as long as he doesn’t abuse drugs or suddenly change his meds. He has never been physically abusive but I just don’t have the patience anymore. I can’t keep my cool when he is out of his mind and won’t leave him alone. I want the psychosis to stop and I know that a shot of haldol will fix it. A scuffle ensued, my mom made me call 911 and he went to jail. (Where he has been many times before but not usually because of me) I have made the decision to stay away from him however possible and if he doesn’t go somewhere else I will evict him and only interact with him through the court system. Not sure, I just want it all to go away. If I don’t give up completely I may still file a request for the state to assign him a guardian. I am ADHD and the court system with its rules is absolutely hell for me. Not even sure if it will accomplish anything but I am out of patience and ideas. He also betrayed me in ways he hasn’t before and I know that he really doesn’t remember or realize who we used to be to each other. Last time he was psychotic he vanished and broke my heart. This time I am sad but mad too, I know the loneliness and sorrow for his situation will set in but I don’t know how to help and he’s not getting better with me. Or it’s like he gets better and then just relapses. He’s so traumatized and so am I.

I finally published for the first time. Not the first time I've finished a novel, but certainly the first time I have actively published one .. one that I've been a little proud of. I know it's a long process to get noticed, or even start to see some traction in sales & downloads, but how do you go about promoting your novel? I feel like I'm stuck. 😕
Beginning of chapter one below - if anyone would like to provide feedback that would be lovely. 🙂
[2,310] It began like a surreal haze, a fever dream dancing with unknown figures swirling around her like a languid tornado, their movements seemingly slowed by some unseen force as she awoke to a world spinning out of her control. She found herself surrounded by strangers who moved like spectres in a dream, fragmented flashes who assaulted her consciousness - a woman gently pressing a cloth to her throbbing head, another offering sips of water while she coughed and struggled to swallow, a man peering down at her with a furrowed brow, and a mysterious figure lingering in the doorway with an unsettling glint of desire in his eyes.
The room buzzed with a quiet urgency as they hovered around her, their faces etched with concern and something else she couldn't quite place - an undercurrent of tension that seemed to pulse in time with her own racing heart. These disjointed images flitted in and out, creating a mosaic of fragmented reality. Awake, her body throbbed with pain; asleep, she plunged into a black abyss, time slipping away unnoticed. Each awakening brought the desire for oblivion as her mind plunged back into the depths of darkness.
Beth jolted upright, startled by the sharp bang of a car backfiring. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she attempted to sit up, her back and legs resisting her will. A woman, the same from her fleeting visions, hurried into the room with a damp cloth and a glass of water.
"Easy now," the woman spoke gently, her mild Spanish accent adding warmth to her sharp words as she pressed the cloth to Beth's forehead and helped her sit up, "you're weak, rushing won't do you any favours. The sooner you regain strength, the sooner you can move."
A man, the one with the odd expression in her visions, appeared in the doorway once again; "and the sooner we can leave this place, I'm sick of it." He grumbled, striding away with urgency and frustration. His steps were heavy and fraught with agitation, each one seeming to leave a deep imprint on the ground beneath him. His grumbling was like distant thunder, punctuated by the clenching of his jaw and the tightening of his fists.
"Don't mind my brother," the woman interjected sharply, "it's not you - he hates everyone." Hate, Beth pondered, wondering what she might have done to earn his disdain.
"Are you hungry?" The woman stood, walking to the other side of the room to adjust another pillow behind Beth's back. Beth nodded; "I'll get you some soup."
Left alone, Beth surveyed the room - beige walls, a shattered TV, torn brown curtains. She squinted at the notepad on the side table, revealing the branding - Mill Village Motel Eatonville. The coffee pod machine at the room's far end, covered in dust, hinted at a neglected past.
"You're awake," startled, Beth turned to find the man with the furrowed brow at the door - tall and dark, with piercing brown eyes, he appeared softer now, "how are you feeling?" Beth managed a brief smile before adjusting herself, wincing in pain. He rushed to offer a hand, and she took his arm to shift as he adjusted the pillow.
"Want to give walking a try?" The man's warm, brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at her, his features etched with concern, his furrowed brow now smooth and his brown eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar kindness.
She shook her head, and the woman returned with soup and water; "she needs to eat before attempting to walk, Austin," she said, setting the tray before Beth.
"Then we'll try again tomorrow," Austin expressed, heading towards the door, "the sooner we leave, the better - we've been here for too long." His footsteps echoed with determination and authority, less frustrated than the other man's but equally resolute.
"I apologise if it's cold. Heating options are limited here. Need a hand?" The woman offered. Beth shook her head, the pounding of her headache resonating through her body.
"Well I'll leave you to it then. Shout out if you need anything, if you can talk at all." Beth glanced down at her bowl of soup, parting her lips as if to speak, but no words escaped. A deep sigh escaped from the woman's mouth as she turned and left the room, leaving Beth alone with her cold, untouched meal. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of muffed chatter outside.
The days stretched longer as Beth's need for rest diminished. Boredom and confusion settled in, intensifying as the people from her visions became tangible presences, moving in and out of her room. They attended to her needs but seldom engaged in conversation. At night, their muffled voices in the adjoining room became a distant comfort, and the faint echoes of their arguments a source of intrigue.
"We need to leave," a frustrated male voice pierced through the thin walls, "we have to head further south before winter traps us with little supplies and an extra mouth to feed - considering you're all so intent on keeping this girl alive."
"This woman," a familiar female voice retorted, likely the one who had been caring for her, "needed help - I distinctly remember a time when I wasn't doing well and needed it too."
"You're my sister, of course, I wasn't going to leave you behind."
"I'm not talking about you, Luis," she yelled, "I'm talking about before you came back from Minnesota and found me."
"Why can't we just leave her here with some supplies and a gun. Why do we need to bring her with us?"
"Jesus Christ Luis we're not leaving her here alone and you two can have it out later," intervened another man, "but Luis is right - we need to leave before the snow settles in."
The argument faded into muffled voices again, and Beth strained to catch the words exchanged between the trio. A knock at the door startled her.
"May I come in?" A young girl, the same from her visions, had opened the door quietly without her even noticing. "I thought the yelling might have woken you." Beth nodded, maintaining her silence.
"I'm Chantelle." Her soft Southern accent flowed like a gentle breeze through a cornfield. She pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Luis can get into it with everybody, but he means well. Well, no, that's a lie. I don't know why I said that. He's a dick."
"I gathered," Beth whispered and laughed a little, suddenly overtaken by a violent cough.
Chantelle rushed to hand her water; "so, you do speak. From the way Austin and Val were sayin' it, it sounded like you were mute. I thought, you couldn't be deaf because you've been nodding and smiling like a dang puppet."
Beth laughed and took another sip; "I didn't really have anything worth saying until now. No one has bothered to make conversation."
"Your accent, where are you from?" Chantelle sat down on the wooden chair, her long dark hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with kindness as she looked towards Beth.
"Australia," Beth paused, realising she hadn't thought about home for a while, "I'm from Australia," she repeated.
Chantelle pulled out a deck of cards; "well, I figured you might be bored and needed a little human interaction that didn't make you feel like you were in a hospital."
Beth's eyes lit up, and Chantelle smiled; "what do you want to play?"
— — —
"What do you think you are doing?" Austin stormed into the motel room.
"We're leaving. Today," Luis' words cut through the air.
"The van's still in bad shape, and we won't survive this winter on foot." Austin's arms were folded tightly across his chest, the muscles in his biceps and forearms bulging with tension. His jaw was clenched, and his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Then fix the damn van!" Luis yelled, the sound piercing through the walls and resonating outside the motel room for others to hear the heated exchange.
"Oh, sorry, I'll just take it down the road to the mechanic, shall I?" Austin raised a quizzical eyebrow, smirking at his friend. The men paused their argument, exchanging laughter.
"Luis, what's going on with you?" Austin softened his tone, taking a seat on the other bed. "We've been friends since high school, grew up together, served in the army together. This isn't you."
"I don't know, man." Luis sat on the other bed, facing his friend, his face buried in his hands. He rubbed his face hard, threw his head back, and sighed heavily. "This just isn't—" he paused.
"Isn't what?"
"Isn't life." Luis gestured around the room.
"We'll get to the coast, find a boat, just like we planned." There was a slight taste of bitterness in the air, as if Austin's mild frustration was tangible.
"And then what?"
"Do the best we can," Austin stood up, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we all have our dark moments, brother. You helped me get through mine, I'll help you get through yours."
Austin walked out of the motel room into the crisp morning air. The atmosphere was fresh, with a subtle scent of dew and grass. The sweet aroma of winter's imminent arrival filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of burning oil from their broken down van across the parking lot.
"Ben thinks he can fix the van by tomorrow. He found the parts we need on the other side of town." Val caught Austin as he had walked outside.
"He went scouting alone?" Austin looked across the lot at Ben, deep into the hood of the black church van they had found a while back.
Chantelle bounded up before she could answer; "Beth seems much better today. She's eatin' and drinkin' more. I think she could try walkin' today."
"Beth?" Val and Austin remarked in unison.
"Mmm, she speaks - she might have a lot more to say if either of you bothered to converse with her instead of just talkin' to her." She walked off towards Ben, a light air in her hopeful stride.
— — —
Austin found Beth sitting on the edge of her bed, her feet bare and dangling idly over the side. Her toes were curled, squeezing them tightly as she wiggled them back and forth. Her face was tense with concentration as she tried to alleviate the tingling sensation in her feet.
"Beth." His voice was soothing and calming, his words spoken with a gentle tone as he tried to ease Beth's discomfort.
"Chantelle?" She looked up at him, as he nodded, smiling gently. "She's a good kid." She smiled and looked back at her toes.
"Do you want to try walking today?" He walked towards the chair on the other side of the room and sat down as it creaked underneath the weight of him.
"The sooner I can walk, the sooner you can get out of here." She said with a sarcastic air, mocking Luis.
"The sooner we can get out of here." He repeated sarcastically with a smile, a light spread of jest washing over him as he joined her in mocking his friend.
"Your friend Luis seems to be very against bringing me along with you." She looked back at him.
"I'm not in the business of leaving people behind. Especially in Washington in the middle of October," he sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, "you wouldn't survive the winter."
"Then maybe you should have just left me to die." She turned her body to face him abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interjected before he could respond.
"Why did you help me? You don't know me, why did you even bother?"
"Like I said, Beth," he stood up, his wistful tone switching back to cold and dry, "I'm not in the business of leaving people behind." He walked over to her slowly.
"I've lost too many people. I've watched people kill others over a can of soup. I've seen friends leave friends behind to save themselves," he sat down on the end of her bed, "I don't leave people behind."
His brown eyes cut through his words like a thunderstorm. She looked at his face, tired and weathered from sleepless nights with one eye open to ensure his group's safety. She pegged him as their leader - strong and determined with clear military training.
"What happened to you?" She asked softly.
"What happened to you?" He countered; "I refuse to believe you survived a pandemic alone for six months in a foreign country."
She said nothing and looked back at her feet. They sat in silence for a while before he stood up and headed for the door.
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow. We need to head south before it's too cold, and we don't know how long the van or the car will last, so part of that might be on foot."
"I'll try walking today." Beth nodded obediently.
"I'll send Val and Chantelle in to help you." He replied, his voice maintaining the cold cadency.
"Thank you." She smiled, wriggling her toes as the numbness started to dissipate. Before he could leave, she looked up at him again.
"Austin?" He stopped at the door and turned to her. "I know you've all done a lot for me, including putting your friendship with Luis on the line, so thank you. But I have a favour to ask," her voice grew quiet, "before we leave."
"What is it?" He asked sternly at her audacity to ask for another favour.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He noticed her green eyes glisten with the added layer of acridity and the change in her demeanour; "before we leave, I need you to help me bury my husband."

I finally published for the first time. Not the first time I've finished a novel, but certainly the first time I have actively published one .. one that I've been a little proud of. I know it's a long process to get noticed, or even start to see some traction in sales & downloads, but how do you go about promoting your novel? I feel like I'm stuck. 😕
Beginning of chapter one below - if anyone would like to provide feedback that would be lovely. 🙂
[2,310] It began like a surreal haze, a fever dream dancing with unknown figures swirling around her like a languid tornado, their movements seemingly slowed by some unseen force as she awoke to a world spinning out of her control. She found herself surrounded by strangers who moved like spectres in a dream, fragmented flashes who assaulted her consciousness - a woman gently pressing a cloth to her throbbing head, another offering sips of water while she coughed and struggled to swallow, a man peering down at her with a furrowed brow, and a mysterious figure lingering in the doorway with an unsettling glint of desire in his eyes.
The room buzzed with a quiet urgency as they hovered around her, their faces etched with concern and something else she couldn't quite place - an undercurrent of tension that seemed to pulse in time with her own racing heart. These disjointed images flitted in and out, creating a mosaic of fragmented reality. Awake, her body throbbed with pain; asleep, she plunged into a black abyss, time slipping away unnoticed. Each awakening brought the desire for oblivion as her mind plunged back into the depths of darkness.
Beth jolted upright, startled by the sharp bang of a car backfiring. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she attempted to sit up, her back and legs resisting her will. A woman, the same from her fleeting visions, hurried into the room with a damp cloth and a glass of water.
"Easy now," the woman spoke gently, her mild Spanish accent adding warmth to her sharp words as she pressed the cloth to Beth's forehead and helped her sit up, "you're weak, rushing won't do you any favours. The sooner you regain strength, the sooner you can move."
A man, the one with the odd expression in her visions, appeared in the doorway once again; "and the sooner we can leave this place, I'm sick of it." He grumbled, striding away with urgency and frustration. His steps were heavy and fraught with agitation, each one seeming to leave a deep imprint on the ground beneath him. His grumbling was like distant thunder, punctuated by the clenching of his jaw and the tightening of his fists.
"Don't mind my brother," the woman interjected sharply, "it's not you - he hates everyone." Hate, Beth pondered, wondering what she might have done to earn his disdain.
"Are you hungry?" The woman stood, walking to the other side of the room to adjust another pillow behind Beth's back. Beth nodded; "I'll get you some soup."
Left alone, Beth surveyed the room - beige walls, a shattered TV, torn brown curtains. She squinted at the notepad on the side table, revealing the branding - Mill Village Motel Eatonville. The coffee pod machine at the room's far end, covered in dust, hinted at a neglected past.
"You're awake," startled, Beth turned to find the man with the furrowed brow at the door - tall and dark, with piercing brown eyes, he appeared softer now, "how are you feeling?" Beth managed a brief smile before adjusting herself, wincing in pain. He rushed to offer a hand, and she took his arm to shift as he adjusted the pillow.
"Want to give walking a try?" The man's warm, brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at her, his features etched with concern, his furrowed brow now smooth and his brown eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar kindness.
She shook her head, and the woman returned with soup and water; "she needs to eat before attempting to walk, Austin," she said, setting the tray before Beth.
"Then we'll try again tomorrow," Austin expressed, heading towards the door, "the sooner we leave, the better - we've been here for too long." His footsteps echoed with determination and authority, less frustrated than the other man's but equally resolute.
"I apologise if it's cold. Heating options are limited here. Need a hand?" The woman offered. Beth shook her head, the pounding of her headache resonating through her body.
"Well I'll leave you to it then. Shout out if you need anything, if you can talk at all." Beth glanced down at her bowl of soup, parting her lips as if to speak, but no words escaped. A deep sigh escaped from the woman's mouth as she turned and left the room, leaving Beth alone with her cold, untouched meal. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of muffed chatter outside.
The days stretched longer as Beth's need for rest diminished. Boredom and confusion settled in, intensifying as the people from her visions became tangible presences, moving in and out of her room. They attended to her needs but seldom engaged in conversation. At night, their muffled voices in the adjoining room became a distant comfort, and the faint echoes of their arguments a source of intrigue.
"We need to leave," a frustrated male voice pierced through the thin walls, "we have to head further south before winter traps us with little supplies and an extra mouth to feed - considering you're all so intent on keeping this girl alive."
"This woman," a familiar female voice retorted, likely the one who had been caring for her, "needed help - I distinctly remember a time when I wasn't doing well and needed it too."
"You're my sister, of course, I wasn't going to leave you behind."
"I'm not talking about you, Luis," she yelled, "I'm talking about before you came back from Minnesota and found me."
"Why can't we just leave her here with some supplies and a gun. Why do we need to bring her with us?"
"Jesus Christ Luis we're not leaving her here alone and you two can have it out later," intervened another man, "but Luis is right - we need to leave before the snow settles in."
The argument faded into muffled voices again, and Beth strained to catch the words exchanged between the trio. A knock at the door startled her.
"May I come in?" A young girl, the same from her visions, had opened the door quietly without her even noticing. "I thought the yelling might have woken you." Beth nodded, maintaining her silence.
"I'm Chantelle." Her soft Southern accent flowed like a gentle breeze through a cornfield. She pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Luis can get into it with everybody, but he means well. Well, no, that's a lie. I don't know why I said that. He's a dick."
"I gathered," Beth whispered and laughed a little, suddenly overtaken by a violent cough.
Chantelle rushed to hand her water; "so, you do speak. From the way Austin and Val were sayin' it, it sounded like you were mute. I thought, you couldn't be deaf because you've been nodding and smiling like a dang puppet."
Beth laughed and took another sip; "I didn't really have anything worth saying until now. No one has bothered to make conversation."
"Your accent, where are you from?" Chantelle sat down on the wooden chair, her long dark hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with kindness as she looked towards Beth.
"Australia," Beth paused, realising she hadn't thought about home for a while, "I'm from Australia," she repeated.
Chantelle pulled out a deck of cards; "well, I figured you might be bored and needed a little human interaction that didn't make you feel like you were in a hospital."
Beth's eyes lit up, and Chantelle smiled; "what do you want to play?"
— — —
"What do you think you are doing?" Austin stormed into the motel room.
"We're leaving. Today," Luis' words cut through the air.
"The van's still in bad shape, and we won't survive this winter on foot." Austin's arms were folded tightly across his chest, the muscles in his biceps and forearms bulging with tension. His jaw was clenched, and his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Then fix the damn van!" Luis yelled, the sound piercing through the walls and resonating outside the motel room for others to hear the heated exchange.
"Oh, sorry, I'll just take it down the road to the mechanic, shall I?" Austin raised a quizzical eyebrow, smirking at his friend. The men paused their argument, exchanging laughter.
"Luis, what's going on with you?" Austin softened his tone, taking a seat on the other bed. "We've been friends since high school, grew up together, served in the army together. This isn't you."
"I don't know, man." Luis sat on the other bed, facing his friend, his face buried in his hands. He rubbed his face hard, threw his head back, and sighed heavily. "This just isn't—" he paused.
"Isn't what?"
"Isn't life." Luis gestured around the room.
"We'll get to the coast, find a boat, just like we planned." There was a slight taste of bitterness in the air, as if Austin's mild frustration was tangible.
"And then what?"
"Do the best we can," Austin stood up, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we all have our dark moments, brother. You helped me get through mine, I'll help you get through yours."
Austin walked out of the motel room into the crisp morning air. The atmosphere was fresh, with a subtle scent of dew and grass. The sweet aroma of winter's imminent arrival filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of burning oil from their broken down van across the parking lot.
"Ben thinks he can fix the van by tomorrow. He found the parts we need on the other side of town." Val caught Austin as he had walked outside.
"He went scouting alone?" Austin looked across the lot at Ben, deep into the hood of the black church van they had found a while back.
Chantelle bounded up before she could answer; "Beth seems much better today. She's eatin' and drinkin' more. I think she could try walkin' today."
"Beth?" Val and Austin remarked in unison.
"Mmm, she speaks - she might have a lot more to say if either of you bothered to converse with her instead of just talkin' to her." She walked off towards Ben, a light air in her hopeful stride.
— — —
Austin found Beth sitting on the edge of her bed, her feet bare and dangling idly over the side. Her toes were curled, squeezing them tightly as she wiggled them back and forth. Her face was tense with concentration as she tried to alleviate the tingling sensation in her feet.
"Beth." His voice was soothing and calming, his words spoken with a gentle tone as he tried to ease Beth's discomfort.
"Chantelle?" She looked up at him, as he nodded, smiling gently. "She's a good kid." She smiled and looked back at her toes.
"Do you want to try walking today?" He walked towards the chair on the other side of the room and sat down as it creaked underneath the weight of him.
"The sooner I can walk, the sooner you can get out of here." She said with a sarcastic air, mocking Luis.
"The sooner we can get out of here." He repeated sarcastically with a smile, a light spread of jest washing over him as he joined her in mocking his friend.
"Your friend Luis seems to be very against bringing me along with you." She looked back at him.
"I'm not in the business of leaving people behind. Especially in Washington in the middle of October," he sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, "you wouldn't survive the winter."
"Then maybe you should have just left me to die." She turned her body to face him abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interjected before he could respond.
"Why did you help me? You don't know me, why did you even bother?"
"Like I said, Beth," he stood up, his wistful tone switching back to cold and dry, "I'm not in the business of leaving people behind." He walked over to her slowly.
"I've lost too many people. I've watched people kill others over a can of soup. I've seen friends leave friends behind to save themselves," he sat down on the end of her bed, "I don't leave people behind."
His brown eyes cut through his words like a thunderstorm. She looked at his face, tired and weathered from sleepless nights with one eye open to ensure his group's safety. She pegged him as their leader - strong and determined with clear military training.
"What happened to you?" She asked softly.
"What happened to you?" He countered; "I refuse to believe you survived a pandemic alone for six months in a foreign country."
She said nothing and looked back at her feet. They sat in silence for a while before he stood up and headed for the door.
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow. We need to head south before it's too cold, and we don't know how long the van or the car will last, so part of that might be on foot."
"I'll try walking today." Beth nodded obediently.
"I'll send Val and Chantelle in to help you." He replied, his voice maintaining the cold cadency.
"Thank you." She smiled, wriggling her toes as the numbness started to dissipate. Before he could leave, she looked up at him again.
"Austin?" He stopped at the door and turned to her. "I know you've all done a lot for me, including putting your friendship with Luis on the line, so thank you. But I have a favour to ask," her voice grew quiet, "before we leave."
"What is it?" He asked sternly at her audacity to ask for another favour.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He noticed her green eyes glisten with the added layer of acridity and the change in her demeanour; "before we leave, I need you to help me bury my husband."

I think it all started when I was incredibly young. Youngest in my family and I couldn't get away from my family no matter where I went. I think my child self knew it was all bad news. But without knowing anything else. How else was I supposed to know anything.
From there it was just moments of socializing. Always with my angry siblings. Then the isolation, with angry family.
It'd this emotion now. It in everything I do. I feel it before I get a great relationship going. I feel it when I'm around and meeting others. It's just about a near constant.
I know it's freaky to say it. But sense finding that imaginary voice it's been helpful. I've had actual moments of real emotions. Like ive allowed myself to feel again. I had a great interaction with some customers. But now it's like this emotion back again. It's really strong.
It's really hard to explain this to anyone. My coworkers think I'm crazy and I know their right. How can I not be crazy. I come out of my home every six months for events at my job. But the rest of the time all I can do is work and go home. It's my comfort. But I've been like that for so long.
I know this problem goes way back. But I just don't know how to not feel this way. I'm also seeing my black and white thinking and thats hard to push through. But im getting better at being aware of it. It got my mental tools and their helping me. But it's still really persistent emotion.
None of its real. Absolutely nothing about this emotion is real. Even when I feel it from when I wake up tell I go to bed. It's not real. It's just a feeling I've been stuck in for to long. It's just an emotional tumor put there by my family.
If I just breath I’ll be fine. I'm taking my own advice and moving slow. But focusing better then ever, can't wait for my boss to notice. I'm having moments of genuine emotions. Hopefully I'll find away for my genuine self to come through to my coworkers. I'm breaking my bad habits, it's getting a little challenging.
I'm good and I'm doing good. I just don't feel good.

Since there was many people who decided to confront, harass, or downright misinterpret the message, I am putting out this open letter addressing every concern addressed to me holistically:
Open Letter to Faculty, Staff, Students, and the General Community Addressing Concerns Regarding the May 13th ASUW Newsletter
NOTE: These are my thoughts and feelings solely as Jacob Feleke, not intending to represent the ASUW.
I wanted to take a moment to thank you all for sharing your concerns about the recent ASUW newsletter. Your insights are invaluable, and they resonate deeply with my own commitment to promoting inclusive dialogue within our university community.

1. Malcolm X Quote: The acknowledgment of the sensitivity surrounding the use of a quote from Malcolm X, with the claims of anti-Semitic rhetoric in the past, struck a chord with me. As someone with Jewish ethnicity and Semitic myself, I fully understand the importance of ensuring that our messaging remains sensitive and respectful. However, I do want to include the fact that Malcom X began his transformation after his pilgrimage to Mecca in 1964, where he experienced and interacted with people from diverse racial backgrounds and realized faults within himself. Following his journey, Malcolm X underwent ideological shifts, moving away from separatist and divisive teachings. I do not include Malcom X to incite or aggravate, but rather to show the change people exhibit in their teachings. “Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve done” - Bryan Stevenson, Just Mercy.
2. Alleged Misuse of Power and Political Bias: I want to emphasize the significant impact of ASUW legislation, which, while not legally binding, influences every aspect of student life, from social functions to the allocation of student funds. As the democratic voice of students, ASUW engages the campus community through programming, services, and advocacy. We amplified the students who brought forward the divestment bill, which underwent rigorous (and a bit vociferous) questioning to reach its final form. The students who presented or supported the bill, some being Jewish themselves, were subjected to ad-hominem attacks being described as “self-hating” by students and described as “ignorant” by faculty and staff along with threats of not being able to find a job after college. Through their trials and tribulations, the approval of this bill by ASUW Student Senate and its presentation to the Board of Directors, and later the Board of Regents on May 9th, as Official Student Opinion underscores our commitment to representing student perspectives in our decision-making processes.
3. Portrayal of Conflict and use of the word 'martyr': I fully appreciate the significance of promoting balanced and respectful discourse. The emphasis on understanding and addressing the concerns of all members of our community has been an issue as the entire campus, and the world is virtually polarized. From the Black Student Union sit-in at Gerberding Hall in 1968, and the May 1970 Antiwar Strikes, these events on our campus occurring simultaneously with the rest of the world did indeed cause students to be martyred for their activism. I emphasize the term ‘martyr’ as we see other universities today engaging in increasing repudiation and silencing of students, which I fear may escalate to lives lost if matters escalate from outside agitators, law enforcement, or universities themselves.
4. Alleged Lack of Representation: The allegations regarding the lack of representation of Jewish students on the ASUW is quite frankly a matter that I am not at liberty to discuss, out of privacy for the students, nor is a well researched allegation. Again, as a semitic individual myself, with Jewish heritage, coupled with a Hebrew name ‘Jacob’, I share the dedication in ensuring that every student's voice is heard and represented within our student organizations. The calls for greater inclusivity and representation in the ASUW mirrors my own aspirations, for our own university community.
5. Questioning of the Peaceful Dialogue: The skepticism about the peaceful nature of the encampment protests underscores the urgent need for transparency and accountability within activist movements. I am deeply committed to ensuring that the activism in the ASUW is conducted in a manner that respects the rights and perspectives of all individuals. The concerns serve as a reminder of the importance of upholding principles of nonviolence and inclusivity in our advocacy efforts. We all want to support activism, and it's crucial to make sure it's done in a way that respects everyone's rights and opinions. In the same breath, I will not condone or tell students to stand silent when being harassed.

In summary, I am truly grateful for everyone's thoughtful critiques and the dedication to fostering a more inclusive and respectful dialogue within our university community. Your insights have sparked important reflections on the implications of our actions and messaging, and I eagerly anticipate working together with everyone to address these concerns constructively.
Sincerely,
Jacob Feleke

I was walking around my house when I saw this super cute black kitty outside. there was a snowstorm happening so the game said the cat was cold and longed for a home. I tried to give it a blanket but it ignored me and I couldn't interact with it anymore 😭 the game said I could try again tomorrow but how long does it takes for the kitty to accept my blankets/food cans? will the kitty go away eventually after a few days? and if it goes away, will it ever come back??😭😭

TLDR: My "mother" is a vile evil woman who has stolen from my grandma and nephew, committed crimes and exploited people, had me working at 15 to support the family while she did nothing, and lied to me so I wouldn't see my grandma on Mother's Day. I have a long post on my full story on another subreddit on my profile if you want more context.
My "mother" is a vile, awful person who has committed heinous and despicable acts. To make an extremely long story short, I grew up in an unstable household. My dad wasn't around and my mom was unwilling to work to support us. I was pawned off to my grandparents who lived with us, and they were more parents to me than my actual parents were. Everything my mom has done has been to fuel her ego, and as with many narcissists, to seek validation to reinforce her nonexistent identity outside external validation. She needs validation constantly on how young and beautiful she looks, how rich and great she is, and how she is an excellent and caring mom. Yet a good mother wouldn't have had me and my siblings and grandparents living in a former drug house infested with millions of roaches, rats, black mold, and on again off again running water and electricity. A good mom also wouldn't have sat around having parties and drinking while I, at 15 years of age and two senior citizens, broke our backs trying to sell and rent party supplies and carrying an 800 lb bounce house to customers that wanted to rent them. I worked at 15 like a Victorian boy instead of going to school trying to make ends meet because my parents wouldn't. My "mother" has done everything evil you can think of, from scamming and stealing from innocent people, catfishing other men (while with my stepdad), pretending to be my sister online for validation and money, forcing my sister to be a model and hook up with much older men for the promise of advancement (she was 17 and these men where in there 30s or older), spies on my widowed sister-in-law, had me living in deplorable conditions and having me eat old food infested with roaches and rat droppings, conducting illegal gambling business and money laundering, kept the fact that (some of) my siblings are adopted from them, baby trapped my stepdad, had little to no concern for my mental health and did not help or try to accommodate my sensory issues (I suspect I may have level 1 autism, mostly with sensory issues) and much, much, much more. I have been going to therapy and am currently doing emdr to undo the damage that my evil "mother" has done. She is a master of manipulation, love bombing, and buying people's love, loyalty, and affection. I, for the second time, have gone no contact with her.
Now that there's some context, my grandmother means everything to me. She lives in a convalescent home and my mom has control over her. I wanted to see her on Mother's Day. My mom asked if I was going to come to lunch. I said we were visiting my wife's mom, then coming to the house later at 5. She said that was not going to work because they were going to eat at 1. I said, OK well, if we can't do the restaurant, then take her to the house, so we can all visit her at 5. She said she couldn't do that, and why couldn't we just go to eat with them and then, IF there's time, we could go to my mother-in-law's house for a little bit. I said no, everything has been arranged already, and as usual you don't inform anyone of plans and expect everyone last second to cancel theirs and do yours. We were going to make my mother-in-law a priority, however, there was time for both. She got mad and said she would not be bringing my grandma to the house and I guess that was it. I said, well, I guess it is. On Mother's Day, I called my grandma, and she was upset and crying, asking why I hadn't seen her, and that she had come to visit the house. My mom took her to the house after lunch and didn't tell me. Neither did any of my other family. She said that she wanted to come back home and didn't want to live at the facility. She is fairly healthy and in reality, doesn't need to be at the facility. After talking to her, I confronted my mom and said that I explicitly told you that I wanted to see Grandma, and you said you were NOT bringing her to the house. You did bring her to the house and intentionally did not tell me. Because I did not bow down and follow your commands like everyone else, you deliberately orchestrated this, so I would not see her in an act of revenge to spite me. There was no reason you couldn't have called or texted and told me you were bringing her, especially after I told you I wanted to see her, even if it was at the last minute. It was an intentional act. She just said you are always talking shit about me. I told her it's not talking shit if it's true. She then hung up. This is what she does. If you don't follow the Führers command, bow at her feet, and tell her how wonderful and gracious she is, she will seek vengeance and do things to spite you, to bring glory for herself.
My grandma told me that my "mom" mistreats her, and is collecting pay from the government pretending to be her caretaker (when in reality my mom does absolutely nothing and has no job whatsoever. She dedicates her life to crime, fraud, and scams. She ran an underground casino with my stepdad and when they got busted my stepdad took the fall) but instead dumped her in a conversant home and does not care for her at all. Besides all that, my grandma also stated that she takes all of her social security money and keeps it. This is not surprising because my nephew, who is technically an orphan, having lost both parents recently, is under the custody of my horrible "mother" and he had some kind of inheritance left for him. When my "mother" discovered this, she swept in and wiped it clean. Her greed is deplorable. Wherever there is money, the Sheriff of Nottingham will do anything to get every last coin wherever she can get it. She even charges people $5 to use the washing machine. The most important thing to my "mother" is herself and her endless black hole of needing to be validated and praised, along with the endless black hole of greed. It is her entire identity. I am so enraged, and I can not let these things happen. When will my "mother" face consequences for her actions? She cannot continue to commit evil acts and not only get away with them but also prosper because of it. One of the worst parts, however, is that everyone, even if they have their problems with her, always goes along with what the dear leader says and continues to enable her by telling her she's a good mom and that they appreciate her. She needs to face consequences for her actions, but I don't know what to do. She can't continue to harm people and get away with it. I need help.

TLDR: My "mother" is a vile evil woman who has stolen from my grandma and nephew, committed crimes and exploited people, had me working at 15 to support the family while she did nothing, and lied to me so I wouldn't see my grandma on Mother's Day. I have a long post on my full story on another subreddit on my profile if you want more context.
My "mother" is a vile, awful person who has committed heinous and despicable acts. To make an extremely long story short, I grew up in an unstable household. My dad wasn't around and my mom was unwilling to work to support us. I was pawned off to my grandparents who lived with us, and they were more parents to me than my actual parents were. Everything my mom has done has been to fuel her ego, and as with many narcissists, to seek validation to reinforce her nonexistent identity outside external validation. She needs validation constantly on how young and beautiful she looks, how rich and great she is, and how she is an excellent and caring mom. Yet a good mother wouldn't have had me and my siblings and grandparents living in a former drug house infested with millions of roaches, rats, black mold, and on again off again running water and electricity. A good mom also wouldn't have sat around having parties and drinking while I, at 15 years of age and two senior citizens, broke our backs trying to sell and rent party supplies and carrying an 800 lb bounce house to customers that wanted to rent them. I worked at 15 like a Victorian boy instead of going to school trying to make ends meet because my parents wouldn't. My "mother" has done everything evil you can think of, from scamming and stealing from innocent people, catfishing other men (while with my stepdad), pretending to be my sister online for validation and money, forcing my sister to be a model and hook up with much older men for the promise of advancement (she was 17 and these men where in there 30s or older), spies on my widowed sister-in-law, had me living in deplorable conditions and having me eat old food infested with roaches and rat droppings, conducting illegal gambling business and money laundering, kept the fact that (some of) my siblings are adopted from them, baby trapped my stepdad, had little to no concern for my mental health and did not help or try to accommodate my sensory issues (I suspect I may have level 1 autism, mostly with sensory issues) and much, much, much more. I have been going to therapy and am currently doing emdr to undo the damage that my evil "mother" has done. She is a master of manipulation, love bombing, and buying people's love, loyalty, and affection. I, for the second time, have gone no contact with her.
Now that there's some context, my grandmother means everything to me. She lives in a convalescent home and my mom has control over her. I wanted to see her on Mother's Day. My mom asked if I was going to come to lunch. I said we were visiting my wife's mom, then coming to the house later at 5. She said that was not going to work because they were going to eat at 1. I said, OK well, if we can't do the restaurant, then take her to the house, so we can all visit her at 5. She said she couldn't do that, and why couldn't we just go to eat with them and then, IF there's time, we could go to my mother-in-law's house for a little bit. I said no, everything has been arranged already, and as usual you don't inform anyone of plans and expect everyone last second to cancel theirs and do yours. We were going to make my mother-in-law a priority, however, there was time for both. She got mad and said she would not be bringing my grandma to the house and I guess that was it. I said, well, I guess it is. On Mother's Day, I called my grandma, and she was upset and crying, asking why I hadn't seen her, and that she had come to visit the house. My mom took her to the house after lunch and didn't tell me. Neither did any of my other family. She said that she wanted to come back home and didn't want to live at the facility. She is fairly healthy and in reality, doesn't need to be at the facility. After talking to her, I confronted my mom and said that I explicitly told you that I wanted to see Grandma, and you said you were NOT bringing her to the house. You did bring her to the house and intentionally did not tell me. Because I did not bow down and follow your commands like everyone else, you deliberately orchestrated this, so I would not see her in an act of revenge to spite me. There was no reason you couldn't have called or texted and told me you were bringing her, especially after I told you I wanted to see her, even if it was at the last minute. It was an intentional act. She just said you are always talking shit about me. I told her it's not talking shit if it's true. She then hung up. This is what she does. If you don't follow the Führers command, bow at her feet, and tell her how wonderful and gracious she is, she will seek vengeance and do things to spite you, to bring glory for herself.
My grandma told me that my "mom" mistreats her, and is collecting pay from the government pretending to be her caretaker (when in reality my mom does absolutely nothing and has no job whatsoever. She dedicates her life to crime, fraud, and scams. She ran an underground casino with my stepdad and when they got busted my stepdad took the fall) but instead dumped her in a conversant home and does not care for her at all. Besides all that, my grandma also stated that she takes all of her social security money and keeps it. This is not surprising because my nephew, who is technically an orphan, having lost both parents recently, is under the custody of my horrible "mother" and he had some kind of inheritance left for him. When my "mother" discovered this, she swept in and wiped it clean. Her greed is deplorable. Wherever there is money, the Sheriff of Nottingham will do anything to get every last coin wherever she can get it. She even charges people $5 to use the washing machine. The most important thing to my "mother" is herself and her endless black hole of needing to be validated and praised, along with the endless black hole of greed. It is her entire identity. I am so enraged, and I can not let these things happen. When will my "mother" face consequences for her actions? She cannot continue to commit evil acts and not only get away with them but also prosper because of it. One of the worst parts, however, is that everyone, even if they have their problems with her, always goes along with what the dear leader says and continues to enable her by telling her she's a good mom and that they appreciate her. She needs to face consequences for her actions, but I don't know what to do. She can't continue to harm people and get away with it. I need help.