Tranquility bath salts positive snorting

some background: i’m 20f and my brother (J) is 27. we fought like siblings growing up but started getting closer the closer i got to being an adult. my parents have always had relationship problems and my mom’s been accusing my dad of cheating (and using me as a therapist) since i was about 8. that aside, my parents are great. love them to death.
me, my brother, my sil, and my niece had a little bonfire tonight. it was getting late so sil and neice left to go to bed and it was just me and J. we had a couple of drinks in us. we were just talking, mainly venting about how annoying our parents are with the whole “cheating” situation. i guess this suddenly reminded of something because he asked me “do you remember the beach trip?”
the beach trip from hell is what everyone calls it. i was about 3/4 years old and my brother was 10/11. what i remember (or thought i remembered): my parents got in a huge fight. my mom took me and my brother to a motel to get away from him. my mom called my grandparents to pick us up from 2 states away because my dad had the car. we had domino’s pizza. they picked us up and we all went home.
what really happened: my mom accused my dad of cheating. fighting constantly. they were both on either bath salts or meth. my dad wanted a divorce but wanted to ensure full custody of just me since my brother is just his stepson. he hired a hitman in Myrtle Beach, who called himself The Rampart, which is why we took the beach trip. when we got there, my mom saw the messages between he and the hitman on facebook. she freaked out and took my brother and fled, where they hid under a car outside of the hotel for like 3 hours. they bought a cheap motel close by.
my mom told J that he needed to go in and get me from my dad. he had a .380 (with the serial number scratched off because his dad’s neighbor gave it to him for some reason) and $600 from mowing grass (which he was saving to buy another gun) in his backpack. mom gave him the room key and he went into the hotel, went into his room, ran past my dad over to the couch where i was sitting, told me i need to come with him, and dragged me out.
we went back to the motel and called my grandparents to have them come get us. we ate pizza while we waited. they got us and we went home to stay with my grandparents.
when my dad got back, he and my mom agreed to meet at a local fast food joint to talk. they agreed that they were crazy from the drugs and needed to put everything behind them for us (the kids). they’re still together today.
i promise this isn’t made up for internet points. my brother wouldn’t lie to me like that and he’s not nearly this creative! sorry it’s not written very well but i’m drunk and nauseous and and have a headache and tired and it’s 3am so i’m going to bed. goodnight

I’m trapped. I can hear that thing lumbering through the hallway. My God, what the hell is it? I’m trying my best to keep quiet but I can’t help but whimper. The soft scratching of my pencil on this notepad sounds deafening in the quiet of this tiny closet. I’m almost certainly gonna die in this place. I just hope someone can find this, maybe it will do some good. Or maybe it already doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I have until that wheezing thing finds me. Oh God, or that grey stuff might ooze under the door and dissolve me. Oh my God! What it did to Benny, Bill, Jonesy and Donald! To all of them! Even if I don’t survive, the world needs to be warned!
Long story short, I was a cop but I got shot in the head. The doctors said I was lucky, that it went straight through without hitting anything vital. However, I still needed three steel plates to hold my fragmented skull together. Also ended up with permanent tremors in my right hand from brain damage. So it’s no surprise that my cop career didn’t thrive. Just a year later I was a “retired” 45-year-old cop, living on scraps. After a few months, I started to get desperate for work. One evening at my pub, my friend, Graham, mentioned an acquaintance who was looking for employees for some private research institute in the Mojave Desert. “What, are they still blowing A-bombs out there?” I scoffed, eyebrows arched with bemused incredulity. Graham stared down at his beer, “Not sure what the hell they do. But they pay super well, so who cares,” he took a long sip of beer, foam clinging to his lips, “I think it would be a good fit for you”.
Turns out this facility, and it really is known as the “Facility”, was located in the middle of nowhere. When I looked it up online I couldn’t find any information. Later that week I called the number that Graham had scrawled down for me on a beer stained napkin. My right hand was useless to me if I wanted it to do anything that required fine motor function, so when I dialed the number on my phone I had to use my left hand. The phone rang twice before a metallic feminine voice answered and said to hold for an operator. After a few seconds of muted elevator music, I spoke to a soft voiced man who told me my skill set was perfect for their current vacancy: a security management position. He said if I filled out some forms they would pay for me to fly on out for an interview in person.
One month and several NDAs later, I was employed again! By the time I started my new job I realized I had no idea what research went on down here. During the interviews my duties as a security manager had been discussed but any mention of their actual research interests had been carefully avoided, redacted or omitted. The security staff were also told to avoid fraternizing with anyone not from their own department, including security personnel from other sections of the Facility. On my first day I asked others about the nature of the Facility’s research, but no one had any interest. “Just stick to your contract. No point in rocking the boat,” my new boss, Bill, said to me curtly. So since then I’ve not discussed it with anyone else.
If only I had, maybe I would have seen this coming. The section of the Facility which I managed was section B.15. This area, like most of the core Facility, was located several hundred feet below the sun scorched surface of the Mojave Desert and comprised many green painted corridors peppered with tall, wide doors made from dark, stainless steel. The rooms inside were large and sterile. Artefacts were cleaned and studied in these rooms after they were brought from the excavation sites (sites E.1 through E.27). Of course, whether we wanted to know the nature of the research or not, eventually, after patrolling some of the research labs for weeks, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the scientists were mostly archeologists or paleontologists. I would often find objects of different sizes and shapes lying around in various states of cleanliness. Some looked like ancient amphoras, or large stone bird baths. Others were less identifiable: a chipped statue, a melted lump of some unidentifiable metal or large chunks of a glass-like material. I found this all extremely curious because, as far as I knew, the Mojave Desert didn’t have much in the way of ancient architecture. At least of any ancient civilization that I know.
As the months went by I started to get friendly with the other guards, most of them ex-cops too, and we started playing cards and drinking Irish coffee in the evenings. My two main colleagues consisted of a jovial, short man with orange hair named Jonesy and a much older much grumpier and much balder man, Donald. They were good men and we had a lot of laughs together. My stomach twists when I think about where they are now. Though I grew fonder of my fellow guards, I found myself developing a severe dislike for the white coated researchers. Most of them were pernicious and arrogant. The only scientist my security buddies and me could stand was a scrawny man named Benny. Our favorite thing about Benny was that he never talked about his work.
It was earlier today, at around 1400h, when all the scientists were running from their rooms. They must have received some message a few minutes before and we watched them from the surveillance monitors as they got all excited and leapt up. Their lab coats flapped and flowed around as they jumped to their feet and made for the main exit. Soon after this the large red landline phone near my video surveillance desk began to ring. Expecting the call, I picked up the receiver before the first ring finished, “Hey boss, what’s all the excitement about?” Bill’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant “The diggers have found a friggin’ huge object out here! The biggest thing they’ve ever dug up, it’s really irregular. They want to bring it to B.15 and I need you to organize the logistics and security”. My brow furrowed, “I guess it’s too big for the main entrance? Maybe we could bring it in via the big doors of the auxiliary hangar?” Bill grunted with agreement, “Yea, we’ll have to improvise a bit but should be manageable. I have no idea what it is… well you’ll see for yourself. I’ll get some of the boys from B.14 to help you out. And just, well…” He paused for a moment, “just be careful.” I grunted, my eyebrow arched from surprise; why was he so afraid? “Um thanks, appreciate it, see you guys soon”.
Donald, Jonesy and I had coffee in the office and called the guards at the hangar doors to arrange clearance. About an hour later we were at the platform near the doors waiting for the cargo to arrive. The massive metal hangar doors had been opened, which was rare. What was more irregular was that nearly every staff member from sections B.11 to B.18 were all gathered together in a silent knot of people. Despite the silence the air sizzled with anticipation, as well as the searing heat. I stood transfixed from curiosity at the massive doorway, waiting in the shade of the hangar as the relentless sun beat down outside. In the distance I saw a black speck grow larger against the bright blue sky. Slowly it took the form of a helicopter which was carrying a large rectangular shaped mass below it.
Within less than a minute the helicopter made its cacophonous approach toward the hangar and gently lowered the object onto an enormous wooden scaffold. I barked orders and signed forms as the guards rushed about, making sure the other personnel stayed a safe distance away. The air was blaring with the sound of the helicopter blades and sand rocketed into my face, forcing me to splutter. “Alright, let’s get this thing processed!” I yelled over the sound of the helicopter as its engines powered down, my colleagues and I wiped dirt from our faces. Bill emerged swiftly from the chopper and shook my hand. We quickly reviewed the paper work he gave me and then he made his way back downstairs to his office in section B.1. He was keen to get away for some reason.
“Alright, it’s officially in my care now. Show’s over. Get the non-essential personnel out of here immediately and secure the object. I want to get Benny up here to analyze it ASAP.” As my colleagues cleared away most of the staff and the excitement died down I was finally able to take a moment to inspect the object. It had been lowered onto the wooden scaffold fitted with wheels just outside the hangar and had been pushed slowly into the center. The few aircraft in this hangar were all currently under repairs and were non-operational, therefore there was plenty of space. As soon as I saw the sheer size of the object, I knew it would be difficult to transport, but not impossible. The object was a wall. Or a large fragment of a wall.
It was about twenty feet long, eight feet thick and ten feet high. At first the wall appeared made from some sort of boring grey stone. However, when I looked closer the wall was… alive. The wall’s surface bubbled slightly. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I stepped closer. When I was only a few inches away from it I felt cold. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek and I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone far away calling my name.
I felt a strange pressure around my head. A sudden invasive thought wormed to life: throw yourself into the wall. I shuddered and held myself back despite the sudden strong desire. I heard the faint voice of Benny and crashed back to reality. My eyes snapped open and I found my nose an inch away from the wall. It radiated cold like an open freezer and it smelled like rotting clay. The surface of the wall simmered ever so slightly. It reminded me of the fizz of some grey effervescent medicine. I paled as I took a large step backward, “I.. uh, what is this?” I turned to face Benny who stood with another scientist. He glanced at her briefly before he approached the wall to apply more straps. He was careful to avoid touching the wall with his bare skin. “Honestly, we have no idea”.
I got Donald and Jonesy to help Benny transport the wall down to room 278B via the service elevator. Donald grumbled about how badly the wall smelled and Jonesy had eyes as large as saucers when he saw it up close, “It looks so unreal!” Once downstairs I returned to my office to get some more coffee and file away the paperwork. I tried to put the strangeness of the wall out of my mind, but it had truly unnerved me. I felt so tired, my forehead drenched with cold sweat. I had been working extra shifts lately, but I had never been hit by such exhaustion so rapidly. As I sat at my desk facing the surveillance monitors I was unable to fight the sleep forcing my eyes shut.
I’ve had many hangovers in my life, most of them unpleasant, but when I woke up at my desk I’d never felt quite so singularly awful. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my whole body felt exhausted. My arms felt like molasses as I attempted to move. My forehead throbbed and I felt bruised. I also felt a pressure squeezing my head from all sides. It was quite peculiar. I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.
Then I froze.
A hand was lying motionless on the floor just behind the table in the center of the office. I leapt to my feet and rushed forward. I gasped from horror as I saw Donald lying on the floor, his chest sliced to ribbons. Gallons of crimson red stained his blue uniform and his eyes stared up empty and terrified. Pallid and shaking I went to my office landline to call for backup immediately. As the receiver met my ear my stomach dropped into my feet.
The line was dead.
The sole means of communication within the core Facility is done through landlines. The landlines are monitored at all times and any interruption results in an immediate response from security. We had many protocols and fail safes to ensure communication remained enabled, but the line was dead and there was no sign of any response. In fact, how long had I been asleep? What was happening? I rushed back to the monitors. I hadn’t noticed it before but I couldn’t see anyone. The cameras were all operating normally but not a single person could be seen. The corridors were just as green and bare as most late evenings. I looked at the clock, it was only 1817h. I had slept for about two and a half hours. Where were the janitors? My heart was hammering in my chest and I couldn’t catch my breath. Meanwhile my head was throbbing and my eyes were burning. Suddenly I heard an indistinct whisper. Gooseflesh bloomed all over my back and arms.
I’d heard this voice before.
I’d heard this voice from the wall.
I turned to the monitors and searched for the wall. It had been brought back to the surface; the hangar! It sat upon the bare ground right by the massive doors. However, the doors were all sealed. The wall itself looked different. It was enormous! Almost three times longer and taller and wider. Just then, I realized that the titanium blast doors had been sealed as well. My heart rate doubled as I noticed large dents, scorch marks and scratches all over the doors. Someone had tried to break them down. The hangar floor was covered in blood and ash as well as abandoned weapons. My God, I even saw a rocket-launcher lying blackened and fractured near the doors. What the hell had happened?
I spun my head to look at the security control panel on the wall to my left. My heart, already blaring, felt like it leapt out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I realized someone, probably Donald, had activated a quarantine procedure. This meant that the entire Facility would be sealed airtight. The only way to open any doors now was from the outside. My God! Why had he done this? Where was everyone? Did he try to wake me? Did I really sleep through all this? I looked back at Donald, my heart still hammering from seeing his dead eyes stare into mine. I sighed sadly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was currently 1831h. I returned to the monitors and began to rewind the security footage.
Surveying the screens, I watched my past-self enter the security office at around 1600h. By 1610h I had passed-out on my chair, drool dangling from my mouth. “Ok, so let’s see where the wall was at that time. Should be room 278B.” I thought to myself aloud as I clicked on the button that would display the footage from that room as well as the surrounding corridors. The screen was black as the footage loaded and I was about to hit the play button but hesitated. Did I really want to see this? I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths. I can’t figure my way out of here if I don’t know what’s going on. I have to know. I hit play.
The camera was located opposite the door giving a full view of the room. At first everything seemed normal. Benny and some other scientists had transported the wall into room 278B. It was 1623h when they were taking the straps off the wall. A loud popping sound was heard and the researchers spun around. The lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Suddenly something long and slimy exploded from the wall, curled around Benny, and pulled him in. He screamed in terror as he vanished, his cries immediately silenced. My jaw dropped open and a small yell escaped me.
Without realizing it, I was instantly on my feet, shaking my head in pure denial. My heart burst. What the hell was that? What the hell? What the hell? My head was full of static. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched guards and researchers rush into the room. The wall shimmered, it’s simmering surface began to boil and bubble and it grew three feet higher. I saw it reshape itself so that intricately carved figures appeared on the wall’s edge. I leant in closer and gasped. One of those figures looked just like Benny, his mouth stretched open wide into a permanent scream. I didn’t want to continue watching, but I had to. The guards and researchers were horrified by what they saw before them. Suddenly, without warning, their body postures relaxed, their eyes grew glassy, and their arms fell slack at their sides. Those within the room moved as if sleepwalking. Some stayed still while others left the room. Brow furrowed from confusion and fear, my eyes swiveled to the footage of the corridor outside. The guards and researchers that had just exited 278B immediately began attacking and grappling those around them. I yelped as a vacant-eyed guard lazily shot another man in the leg. The thrall then dragged the wounded guard into room 278B. The mad guard held the wounded guard’s leg fast as he casually walked into the grey wall, pulling the struggling man in behind him. During this altercation I noticed Donald for the first time, he was hiding behind the corner of the corridor at the far end and was firing his gun at the madmen. He didn’t manage to hit anyone though. He then ran over to help a stray researcher to their feet and then they both ran down the corridor and out of view.
I can still hear the cries of pain and pleas for mercy as those who fell victim to the thralls were each dragged into that horrifying wall. With every person it swallowed, the wall wriggled and grew and grew. More and more ghastly decorations began to bloom on its surface, all of them made from the bones or likenesses of those who had been absorbed. The bigger it got the stronger its psychic influence became until it seemed to reach nearly everyone in the Facility, turning them into thralls. I looked on in horror as one by one, all janitors, researchers, guards, diggers, admin staff, everyone gradually stopped what they were doing, mid conversation, their eyes emptying. The janitors dropped their mops and buckets. Researchers dropped precious materials and equipment without care, letting them smash to pieces. In unison they all slowly, with vacant expressions, moved toward room 278B. Among the horde of thralls, I saw Bill and Jonesy, and so many others I knew by face. A guy who’d held the door for me once, a researcher who always slurped her coffee at lunch. Hundreds of people! What filled me with an unnamable dread was that I knew what was gonna happen. I knew what was coming. I tried to shout at the monitors, “Stop! Wait!” I grabbed the monitors and shook them with frustration.
A terror began to fill my stomach, deep and cold and aching. Suddenly I noticed Donald reappear on the screen. He was trying to hold back the researcher he’d helped earlier, but it was useless. I saw Donald, chest heaving from effort, stare with incredulity as he sat defeated on the ground. Everyone else around him stumbled dreamily toward their doom. But Donald refused to give up. I saw him run from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to stop them. He threw chairs and tables in their way but they simply pushed them aside or jumped over them. I saw him run toward this office. I saw him enter, saw myself slumped on my chair still completely unconscious. I saw Donald try to shake me awake, he slapped me a few times and was yelling in frustration. He gave up with me eventually and ran over to activate the quarantine lockdown. I saw him tear down the hall back toward room 278B, pistol in hand.
My best guess was that he saw what was happening in room 278B and decided he was gonna stop it. However, as soon as he got close to the door a long pale tendril burst through the door directly into Donald’s chest. The tentacle had a hooked end and it slashed at him. I saw blood spurt out of him, saw him stumble and fall from the ground in fright. However, he still managed to get a hold of his gun and fired multiple shots at the tendril. It writhed and flailed. Donald took the opportunity to climb to his feet. He grimaced and clasped his chest as crimson leaked to the floor. He moved back down the corridor, much more slowly than before. Eventually he got back to the office. He locked the door and then collapsed. I cried out in frustration. That whole time I was completely useless!
My mind felt like static again for a few seconds. I couldn’t work out what my next move should be. A thought hit me hard, one I should really have thought of before. Why had Donald and I not been psychically affected by the wall? Everyone had been enslaved, everyone had been forced to walk into that wall. Why not Donald? And me? I knew it must be connected to my horrendous sleepiness. My eyes grew wide with sudden realization. “Shit, the steel plates in my head!” Donald had a single steel plate in his skull because of a rock-climbing accident he had in his 20s. When I got close to the wall, had it sensed my resistance? Had it tried to incapacitate me? If so, it means this thing possesses sentience.
While I pondered this, I noticed some thralls re-strap the wall in room 278B. They transported it to the elevator and back up to the hangar. Once there, the thralls moved the wall off the scaffold onto the floor and began to beat heavily on the large metal doors with bare fists. Some even shot at the doors with their handguns. The ricochets killed a few of them but not one single person seemed to even notice. Some of the guards even used a rocket launcher! I yelled with shock as they fired at deadly close range, lazily blowing themselves up, leaving the doors scorched. After this proved futile, the thralls all grew suddenly rigid. Next, they all formed a line in front of the wall and one shambling step after another, all the remaining employees were - assimilated. Even the dead and wounded were not spared. Those still alive carried the corpses of their fellow thralls into the wall.
It was 1705h when the last employee disappeared forever into the grey horror, and the wall expanded to its current size. Without warning, a large writhing mass of twisted limbs emerged from the wall. I gasped from horror. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was because the lighting in the hangar wasn’t good enough, but it definitely wasn’t human. Its silhouette was about seven feet tall and thin and stretched. It had too many legs and it didn’t seem to have a head. This thing lumbered over to the doors and began to strike them with a strength and ferocity one would only find in a starving polar bear. I could tell that the doors were taking strain, and they began to bend, but even then, they would not yield. After about half an hour of smashing the door, the creature stopped and slowly shambled toward the stairs. My heart froze. It was coming here! Or was it here already?
My eyes swiveled back to the main monitor and I was surprised to see Donald still alive. He was scratched and bleeding badly as he shakily pushed himself from the floor. He then looked up at the ammunitions cupboard and began to search through his keys. I saw him curse. He couldn’t find the key with his trembling, bloodied fingers. In the next instant his eyes bulged and he heaved as if vomiting. His body doubled over and long grey tendrils oozed from his mouth and wriggled furiously. He grabbed his throat and fell forward onto the floor. Frozen in horror I watched as his body squirmed and he wriggled as if his intestines were filled with snakes. I continued to watch absolutely transfixed as three long grey tendrils emerged again from between Donald’s lips. Slowly they wriggled free of his mouth. They were about half a foot long, dull grey and thin like spaghetti.
I watched as they slithered toward my unconscious form on the monitor. I bit my lip and stood up. Slowly my brain put two and two together. Bile rose in my throat. I yelled at myself to wake up and see the worms. Just then my stomach dropped and I could feel an itchiness in my belly. I could feel the wriggling itch of a thousand grey eels in my gut. Or was I imagining it?
My stomach writhed and I was about to puke when I saw myself awake and stretch in my chair. The worms somehow realized I was awake and they moved out of view towards the –before I could watch the screen any longer, I heard a hiss and something slimy and long wrapped itself around my throat so tight I couldn’t breathe. I gasped with surprise and strained my neck to look at the monitor that showed the room in real time. I saw from the camera behind my head that something thin and grey had wrapped itself around my throat. I saw two more of those things coming at me from behind as well. They were about to come wriggling up my chair when I grimaced with anger and grabbed my gun from its holster. The thing around my neck was hissing and making awful clicking and guttural noises. Its small worm head had a mouth that bit and it latched onto my neck to suck my blood. I pulled at the leach and pressed my gun up against it. I pulled the trigger. With an earsplitting bang and a sound like a water balloon popping the leach was reduced to sticky goo. I pulled the remnants of the leach off my neck and spun around just in time to shoot and kill the others. I grinned with a mad-joy and yelled with relief. Immediately, a wave of nausea and exhaustion hit me and I fell back onto my chair. “What the hell was that? What the hell do I do now?” I sat still for a moment and tried not to lose my mind completely. I swear I could hear Woody the woodpecker laughing somewhere in the distance. I needed to keep it together. I took a long deep breath and tried to think of a way out.
Summarizing the details of my predicament, I realized I was trapped alone inside the Facility with an otherworldly force. Also, even if I found a way out, I’d potentially be letting an evil into the world that could destroy all life. At once an old thought returned to me, one I’d often experienced as a cop. “If I need to sacrifice myself to save others, I will do so without complaint.” A wry smile spread over my face. “Once a cop, always a cop.” My smile vanished as a I continued to think. “But my God, if this thing gets out. If it gets into the minds of other people. If it gets larger and larger. Could it swallow the world? The solar system? What other monstrosities would it unleash?” I was talking aloud now; the sound of my voice gave a new reality to my situation that made me shudder. I turned back to the monitor. It seems I was all caught up with what had happened. I stared blankly into the screen while I watched my past-self continue to wake and wince from pain. I switched the monitor off and saw my reflection in the blackness of the screen. I was pale and my eyes were wide and unblinking. “What do I do now?” I turned in my chair to look at Donald’s body. Were all those worms gone? Could some still be hiding? And what should be done with his body? Probably best to have it burned. “Poor Donald, he didn’t deserve this”, I muttered softly as I examined his corpse, making sure there were no unexplained twitches beneath his skin. My eyes moved from his body up to the ammunition’s cupboard just above. “Wait, why was he trying to get into the cupboard earlier? We don’t have much…”, my eyes grew large with realization. “Holy crap, he was trying to get the bomb! Me and Donald were gonna use a left-over bomb from the excavation site to blow some random shit up!”
I sighed sadly and heavily. We never got around to it. I stood up quickly and walked up to the cupboard. I pulled out my keys and quickly found the key I’d need. I opened the cupboard with little effort and found the ten kilos of plastic explosive inside. It had already been set up with a sixty second timer and a remote detonator by a colleague. I sat at the table with the explosive, a vague plan forming in my broken mind. “Maybe if I somehow get this wall-thing to eat this bomb then...”
Before I could formulate my thoughts fully, the lights flickered, and the entire Facility was plunged into darkness unceremoniously. My nerves were burning with fear. What had happened? Had that thing knocked the power out somehow? The next few seconds that past were some of the longest I’d ever experienced. However, dim green light bloomed to life and the reserve power kicked in. Then I heard slow, shuffling footsteps in the corridor just outside the office. I froze once again, my insides turning to mush. My mind raced. Had I remembered to lock the door? My stomach leapt into my feet as I heard the shuffling get louder and louder. I heard hoarse, wheezing breaths, as if the thing struggled to breathe. I jumped from fright but remained absolutely silent as whatever the thing was banged on the door with a deafening blow.
BANG! The door shook and bent slightly.
BANG! Silence for a moment.
BANG! BANG! Again silence. My heart was hammering in my ears and I sat deathly still. I could hear that thing breathing louder. After a few moments I heard it shuffle away. My entire body was shaking as relief washed over me. Whatever the thing was, it had walked away and I could no longer hear it. I turned to look at the monitors. Dare I turn them on and check what it was? After a few seconds of consideration, holding my breath, I turned to the monitors and switched them on. I waited in nervous anticipation as the screens flickered to life showing me that all the corridors between me and the wall were currently empty. I didn’t bother checking the corridor I suspected the shambling thing was in. I didn’t want to see it unless I needed to. I’d had just about all the stress and terror I could take and by this stage I felt weirdly calm. It must be shock. A thin sigh escaped me as I stood. The fear in my blood began to feed a furnace of anger in my heart. I thought about all those who I had lost. I felt my expression turn to granite, “It’s time to kill this thing.”
I opened the door slowly, my fully loaded gun in my good hand. Spare ammo along with the explosive and a shotgun was stashed in my backpack, and the remote detonator was tied to my belt. I held a heavy-duty flashlight in my shaky right hand. I moved cautiously through the dark green corridors. I’d never thought of how creepy this place could be until this moment. Gooseflesh crept up my arms and neck as I continued. All I could hear were my soft footfalls and shallow anxious breaths. I cleared the corridors one by one until I made it to the stairs that would lead me to the thing that looks like a wall. I walked up the stairs slowly, my ears honing in on any sound. That’s when I heard it. I heard the soft sound of crying.
Someone was crying. I stopped dead in my tracks. My entire body shook from the adrenaline surging through me. I took one step. Then another. Slowly, I climbed. Once my head could peek over the top, I froze. Jonesy was squatting on his knees, naked. He was between the wall and me, with his back facing me. The terrifying thing loomed enormous before us. It was now framed intricately with the skeletons of hundreds of people, all twisted and screaming in agony. Writhing, tortured souls fused together. Then came the sound of crying and moaning from the wall. I could hear them all. They were all screaming. Screaming for me to help them. To join them. I felt that pressure squeeze against my skull tighter and tighter. I shook my head in defiance. “No! You bastard! NO! I will not join you! You’re not Jonesy!” All at once the moans and wails stopped. I suddenly found myself at the top of the stairs without knowing when I’d finished climbing them. “But we are Jonesy” came a voice that was not human. It was a voice made from all those it had swallowed up. It was as though something had made a distorted copy of the voices of all those people and then just used them all at once to speak. It didn’t understand the concept of individuality. All of a sudden, the wall rippled and grey tendrils squirmed from the flesh of the wall, curling around Jonesy as they teased his face and slowly pulled him in. As he disappeared there was a horrendous sucking, squelching noise. “We are Jonesy. We are all. We can be all. We will be all. All and all and more than all.” The voice was chanting this over and over. Louder and louder.
A deafening blast came from the wall and a slithering, writhing mass of tangled human limbs emerged. It had four legs and several arms. It looked like the bodies of eight or more people shuffled and glued into an otherworldly horror. Its multiple mouths screamed a high pitch squeal that was more horrifying than the screams of the damned, and its sharp pointed teeth gnashed and chomped. I only had a second to dodge this monster. I leapt to the side and fired multiple shots at the thing’s center of mass. Its horrifying body of fused torsos wriggled and bled black ichor. It screamed with pain and jumped at me, grabbing my leg. It tossed me into the air and I almost lost my gun as I slammed into the floor a few feet away. Before I could catch my breath, it was upon me again. From the ground I fired several shots at it. This made it jump away and scuttle down the stairs. With it momentarily out of sight, I quickly got to my feet and kept my eyes on the stairs.
After a second, I decided to kneel and take off my backpack as fast as I could. I pulled out the bomb and started the timer. I also decided to get the shotgun out and get it loaded. I needed to do this now or never. As the final shell clicked into place I heard a roar coming from the stairs. The thing was back. Before I could react, it leapt at me and knocked me to the ground. The bomb flew from my grasp. It bared down on me, grabbing at my throat ready to tear me apart. My reflexes saved me though and I managed to use my shotgun to hold the thing at bay, but it was too strong. Desperate, I kicked it hard in the chest and it let go. I used this moment to grab the bomb that lay behind me; only 37 seconds to go! Terrified and crazed, sweat pouring down my face, my mind in pieces, I rammed the bomb into the creature’s mouth and kicked it back again as hard as I could. I heard it yelp like a wounded dog and it lost its footing. It fell sideways and in that second, I took my shotgun and fired at it in the chest. The force of the close-range blast sent me flying. At the same time the creature was hurled back into the wall where it was enveloped quickly.
My head was fuzzy. I was dizzy and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was the bomb going to work? I felt something warm and wet drip into my ear and touched the side of my head. My fingertips came away soaked in blood. My head was spinning. With a foggy mind I grabbed my bag, collecting my weapons and flashlight. As I stood up I heard a low rumbling sound. The ground beneath my feet shook and for a moment I was confused. Then I looked up at the wall. Its surface was roiling and boiling like I’d never seen before. It was shaking and growing. I turned to run when suddenly there was a massive blast from inside it, and the entire wall exploded into hundreds of small grey chunks. These chunks rained down all around the hangar, smashing several aircraft. The blast knocked me off my feet and this time I definitely passed out because when I awoke I could see daylight through the tiny cracks in the blast door. Where the wall had once been now stood a small blackened crater. I turned around to inspect the wall pieces and found that they – my eyes grew wide and my mouth opened. They were melting. As I approached a fragment of wall, a horrible twisted hand shot out at me. I yelled and jumped away. It was still alive! I watched in dumbfounded horror as the pieces continued to melt and began to merge, just like that scene from Terminator 2.
It was rebuilding itself. Then I heard a groan. My blood became ice. I turned slowly in terror to find the shambling, wheezing monstrosity behind me. Like the creature I'd shot, this one seemed made from bits and pieces of human limbs knitted together randomly. This one had legs which came out its mouth, its head positioned within its torso where the bellybutton should be, and it wheezed in pain. I almost puked from fright but my legs were already carrying me away. I sprinted down the corridors, ignoring all the pain and fear and exhaustion and anger and frustration I had inside me. Without thinking, I leapt into the first janitor's closet I found and locked the door with a dull clunking sound. After catching my breath, I found this notepad and pencil, and have been writing this report in the sterile glow of my flashlight. Hopefully, I have left some useful information for anyone who may find this.
Now I lie in wait for that thing. Now I lie in wait for that grey ooze. What is that thing? Is it truly indestructible? If it can survive a bomb like that, what hope do we have? It’s no wall at all. It’s a membrane. An interface. Somewhere very different is pressing up against us. It has torn a small hole, and was now prying it open further. I should blow up this whole damn place! I should burn it! But would it matter? Or would it just be buried, to be rediscovered? I think even if I survive this, nothing can help us. So here I wait, hoping to be saved, but even as I write this I can hear that thing walking past the door. With a soft click I turn off my flashlight. I try not to breathe. I can hear the snuffling, it’s right outside! I can smell its ugly breath.
Oh God! I hear the jingling of keys. The door is unlocking! How? How?
Oh God! The doorknob is turning...

(Prev) wiki
She wasn’t sure when she dozed off, but when the beeping of her qcom woke her it had only been a few hours. She turned the camera to face the celling and opened the channel to find The Director wearing an expression that made her think of cats and canaries. “Pointing the camera away from yourself, smart. That said, I need to see you.” She adjusted the camera hastily. “Ok, good. It has been a busy few hours, but productive. Seems like there are an awful lot of people who really do believe in the Charter and the promise it stands for.
“The New Guard, as we found they’d been calling themselves, tried to go media blitz and paint themselves as Glorious Saviors of a Confederation in Crisis, call for a lesser form of martial law, and use some obscure legal jargon to call for my arrest. No one was buying their crap, though. The whole thing makes me thing of those videos where someone tries to launch a watermelon with large rubber bands and it hits them in the face instead… except they will be feeling this one for a bit longer.”
The woman’s smirk grew. “One of them got arrested – by his own body Confederation guards – on the podium where he was trying to rally a crowd. A crowd who wasn’t having any of it, by the way: I’m still not sure that the guards didn’t arrest the guy just to get his tone-deaf ass – and themselves – out of there before a real confrontation started. Seems like the civics being taught in schools these last few years worked.”
Julia raised here eyebrows. “Trying to call for emergency powers for themselves and your arrest? That was their end game?”
“More like their fallback plan, and – based on what we’ve put together from interrogations and documents so far – it might have worked in fifty years when they planned on moving to their end game. They were only a few weeks from trying to introduce educational legislation which would have enabled them to shut down those civics classes in as little as a decade.”
Julia let out a low whistle. “I suppose that they are the ones behind the whisper campaigns against the real ‘old guard’ like you and my father?”
“That part we already knew. We’d back-tracked a lot of those psy-ops and had a number of these people as suspects already. Forcing their hand, now, brought our suspects out into the open and brought the majority of the rest out into the light. We have most of the ring leaders in custody, and real identities for the rest.” The Director took a long slow breath. “You were right. Pushing this out into the public was the right thing to do, and was not something they were adequately prepared for. Don’t mistake me, they had made preparations, but not ones that were good enough... they really didn't expect us to go public. Of course, there preparations were especially not good enough to deal with something as blatant as what you brought.
“So, the arrests have been made, and you are not going to be needed for testimony. Also, anyone that may have been missed will be lying quite low. You are free to exit the Bitha Embassy and return to your own. Second-Ambassador Jorgenson will be swearing you in, then handing the Embassy over to you.
“No, don’t look at me like that. You aren’t being elevated to First. Jorgenson, however, is going to resign the moment you are sworn in. She was a victim in all of this, not a perpetrator… but she did not report it either, and let herself be hemmed in. She will be staying on for a while to smooth the transition for the new First, but her official title will be consultant and she will have no authority.
“Your job is to Hold the Fort and Keep Calm. Official statements will be coming from the First Ambassador when she arrives in a few days, until then you are to say as little as possible, and not to initiate any official meetings with foreign Ambassadors.
“Yes, yes, I know we can’t forbid you from meeting with family for personal reasons. The fact that Salish couldn’t have done so, legally, is one of the reasons you were recruited after all. Just make sure that dear ‘ole uncle knows that your meeting is off-the-record, and please don’t go airing all of our dirty laundry to the Council’s Prime Minister?”
The comment brought an instinctive guarded reaction from Julia, but she suppressed it and forced herself to put on an open smirk. “I promise to reveal nothing which will compromise the Confederation to the Prime Minister. He, my Aunts, and I have over a decade of personal gossip to catch up on, we’ll be busy.” Never mind the fact that something like this is what amounts to personal gossip in my family… we know how to compartmentalize.
Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because The Director gave her a dirty look before she answered. “You will be getting official interim statements by the time you are sworn in and get your Ambassadorial credentials. Jake is going to be on the ship with the new Ambassadors, so you will get your Confederated Intelligence Directorate briefing – and equipment – from him.
“Now pay very close attention, because this next bit is vital. Until Jake arrives you are an expired asset. There is no reason any intelligence operative on the Council world will even know about you, much less try to contact you. So, if you receive any contact do not answer. If someone tries to physically contact you then do not walk, run.
“The last item, there is an official document on the qcom device for the Bitha Ambassador, with a hash-stamp that has been entered into Council Records. It permanently and irrevocably passes ownership of the qcom device you are using to the Bitha Embassy, with the single provision that it not be removed from the Embassy for any reason without proper authorization from a Confederation official.
“You should note that one of your first orders of business as Ambassador-plus-Secret-Intel liaison is going to be to hand out several similar pieces of equipment and documentation to certain key allies.
“Now, you have your marching orders, please get out of there and back to the Embassy.”
Julia nodded, logged off, dropped the privacy field, returned the qcom with a few hasty instructions, and made her way to her new home.
The rest of the day ended up feeling rather anti-climactic by comparison. She barely got through the door before it closed behind her and she was sworn into her new position. They tried to move her, temporarily, into the First Ambassador’s office and quarters, but she put her foot down on that one, with the excuse that she really didn’t want to have to play musical spaces the moment she managed to get settled in.
Not that she saw her new office, nor quarters, for the rest of the day. Normally she’d have expected a day or two to get settled, and then a little light duty to get into the tempo of the place. Instead she hadn't even made it to her new office door before she found out she had over half a dozen appointments, with Embassy staff and various Ambassadors she was assured were too important to be allowed to wait and a small mountain of email.
None of the ever-so-urgent appointments were from people she knew, and she strongly suspected those people were waiting out of respect for her, her father, or both. By the time dinner rolled around she felt like the phrase ‘unable to comment at this time’ had been burned onto her tongue. She considered rebelling and going after dinner, but settled for a glass of water and hustled to the next meeting.
At long last the official appointments ended. She pushed through a double-handful of emails, triggered the AI, and handed the rest off to it after deciding she’d look at anything it couldn’t handle in the morning.
She then ordered a bourbon. A frightened secretary informed her that there was no booze whatsoever in the Embassy: Salish had forbidden it. She looked the girl square in the eye and told her to get it from the former Ambassador’s secret stash. The girl looked about to deny knowledge of any such stash, but a small grin and a shooing motion convinced her.
As she nursed her second glass the call she’d been waiting for came in. “Hello Uncle. I’m sorry I haven’t made it over there yet, been a lot here to unpack.” She giggled a bit at herself. Unpack… I still have to unpack. Wow, I really am strung out for this stuff to have already started going to my head. When was the last food I had anyway? “I really want to see all of you, and I’m about to…”
Uncle’s face darkened. “Sit your pale little butt back in that chair, nurse that drink in your hand, and bloody well relax. Have you given up on the deluge of email and messages yet?”
She nodded, and he started to continue, but Aunt Golna pushed him out of the way. “Good. I bet you haven’t even seen your room yet, much less unpacked it? Right? Thought so. You just sit tight, dearie, and order yourself up a little snack. Aunti Trio and Kaptain Kazoom are coming to the rescue!”
Her Aunt’s use of the childhood joke combined with the booze and her pent up stress to send her into a fit of giggles, then hysterical laughter. She laughed until she started to snort-laugh, which made her – and those on the other end of the line – laugh all the harder. That set her off to laughing even more, and it took every scrap of self-control she had left to stop before she was in danger of losing whatever she still had in her belly.
When she finally managed to wipe the tears from her cheeks she looked at the screen with the intention of waving her relatives off, only to find that her Aunt had been replaced by one of their daughters. She felt her eyes widen in horror as her cousin smirked at her and spoke. “Don’t bother trying to stop them, cousin. Or me. Now that I’ve delivered that message, you sit back and enjoy the rest of that glass. Moms and Dad should be there by the time you are done, and I won’t be much behind ‘em!”
If I wasn’t so damned exhausted I swear I’d beat the blue out of every one of their hides. She stared blankly at the now-darkened screen. Are they trying to cause an inter-stellar incident?! I… She sat back and took a long breath. Had probably better get used to this sort of thing. Their motto may be ‘For the Diadem, first foremost, and always,’ but that just means that they act for the Empire *more*, not for family *less*. And, you know that. You always have. Hell, they are probably more protective and careful of their family than…
Three tall, blue, sympathetic-faced women swept into her office and wrapped her – still seated – into a warm embrace. She found herself wrapped in ble skin, white, red, and yellow hair, and the scent of various flowers. After a few moments the door closed and a warm, male, Venter voice seemed to quietly fill the room. “Come now, my loves. Let the poor girl breathe.” None of her alien aunts moved a single muscle. He chuckled. “Ok, fine then. Let up and let me give my niece the proper hug she was denied by protocol on the dammed landing pad!”
The arms which had been wrapped around her brought her to her feet and she found herself wrapped in another hug. Then her three Aunts joined back in and a tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding – and which the booze had failed to vanish – began to ease out of her in fits and starts.
A single tear formed in her eye, and she let it roll down her cheek. Aunt Yoro, signature glasses off of her face for once, whispered in her ear. “It is ok. Let it out. You've had to put up with far more today than any sapient has a right to.”
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i don't know anything about babies in general, although i have mastered mh baby. actually, he has probably mastered me, lol, because i really threw out all i learned and researched pregnant and just did what he needed to be comfortable, and i don't regret it. i brush aside almost advice, because it's kinda silly and common sense that i obviously already tried. although my mom taught me a lot about how to play and amuse, lol! also just do not let him cry, and do not let anyone else handle it when he does, it's what my baby and i both need.
so i want some insight and perspective on whether i had a "high needs" baby or if this was typical?
i am a FTM, EBF, and solo parent.
i wonder if my perception is because i solo parent. i live with my folks, and his dad and i are together and will be back under one roof in august, but i moved in with them when baby was around three months old. his dad worked long hours during the newborn days. i haven't been apart from him for more than a handful of times for even an hour, and i did everything, every nap, diaper change, overnight, bath and bedtime routine, obviously nursing as he's EBF. never took a bottle or paci, i am the paci, lol.
my folks will entertain him while i finish something up or eat or pee, they are obsessed with him, but yeah! and his dad is over about twice a week, and sleeps over sometimes, but that's family time.
i think as a newborn he was pretty typical, other than being crazy alert after week two.
he couldn't tolerate being set down at all, even freshly changed, fed and well rested for the first month or two, so i adjusted. contact naps. never took a paci or bottle, but i fell in love with breastfeeding. every hour, feed, sometimes two. comfort nurser. he couldn't sleep unless nursing.
witching hour he would be awake for 5-8 hours, and only wanted me, but i could keep him from crying for more than five or ten minutes.
by two months, i could pop him in the swing or his recliner bouncer for five or ten minutes while i sang and talked to him or was close by, and that helped a lot, since i basically held him eighteen hours a day, and he loathed being worn until he could face out at six months, lol. i could eat!
but his sleep regression at 3.5 months was brutal. 5-40 minute crying before each nap, and 30mins-3hours before bedtime. adjusting the wake windows made it worse, although breaks helped, or running another bath as that was his bedtime routine from month two and was very soothing for him. obviously the typical waking every 30-45 minutes during the day naps, and 30minutes-2 hours overnight. oddly super chill during night wakes, haha, except when he woke during the transfer to the bassinet, which was at least four times per try. often i would feel so rotten for him having to go through that i would just hold him and stay up.
i ended up bedsharing at four months. i was sleeping 2-6 very broken hours a night, after the newborn sleeplessness, i was so sick. we found out i had severe PP hyperthyroidism, so i had gnarly insomnia, anxiety, felt like death. no chance to catch up on sleep as a solo parent, and it was very unsafe. i fell asleep nursing him in our glider, which is so dangerous, and that was the final straw.
my mom wanted to keep trying bottles, but i just couldn't when he was struggling so much. nursing is his comfort, his safe place, and even with the walking, he didn't soothe for others, and i couldn't deal with not being there if he cried. i don't think he could either. so i walked him for hours on a second degree sprained ankle, lol, with an ice pack duct taped to my sock.
the inconsolable crying before naps and bed lasted about a month, and resolved.
but he was just so fussy from 3 months to just recently. you couldn't sit down holding him for more than five minutes. he constantly needed to be walked, on your shoulder. couldn't tolerate being worn until he could face out. he loved books, being sung to and listening to music, peekaboo, standard stuff, but would fuss again after a few minutes. i would try to sing to him and talk to him and make a game of even folding laundry for five minutes with him next to me in the bouncer, and he couldn't tolerate it. i remember my mom saying oh let me show you how i cooked quick dinners, and trying to amuse him as she did, and he lasted ten minutes with both of our best efforts, lol.
i think he just needed a lot of stimulation and was frustrated with being a baby.
i did notice other posts online from similar babies. my son is just a vibrant little person. he's always been early on social and cognitive milestones, he is super vocal and rowdy and silly, and he just started crawling. i have noticed he really is so much happier now that he can express himself more (he babbles like mad and says mama and attempts to sing when we do, and has a few tricks like waving) has better hand control, and can crawl!
my mom says he's unusual, and she nannied before she had me for many infants. she says in many positive ways, as i already wrote, but also much more challenging in the sense of how much you need to do for him to be comfy, and the sleep stuff, but i think that's not uncommon.(but she also says i was freaky independent for an infant as long as she was in sight, and would just chill and watch her and listen to her sing and talk and play by myself and needed to be alone to sleep, lol, and i'm her only so who knows.)
is this typical? or more unusual? i just wonder how much of my perception is because of my style and because it was just me essentially?

Hey hey, over the colder months from November onwards my eczema came back with vengeance. Even without a visible rash, my arms, stomach and legs all had this terrible itch like my skin was just asking for me to give it a reason to flair up. Creams like e45 would irritate any flair up and make my skin 10 times worse.
Turns out, the apple cider vinegar and sea salt bath at a luke warm temperature works wonders for some reason, then a quick drying session so I'm not wet but definitely damp (try to dab with your towel). Whilst damp I apply hypoallergenic moisturiser to all itchy areas followed by additional dabbing with a towel.
On top of this, I asked myself if my diet was really as good as I thought it was (it wasn't). I focused on getting more vitamins A, C and D into my diet. It sounds bad but i always kind of thought the entire vitamin had always been a lie and it didn't matter that much, turns out it's important?? Shocking.
I keep my bedroom reasonably humid (not too much) to make up for working in cold dry conditions all day everyday, I used a humidifier for this.
Finally I forgave my skin for being pretty shit. I'm not sure how much psychology plays into skin care but I genuinely think I saw improvement when I stopped seeing it as an annoyance and instead saw it as another part of me that just needed some tlc.
Sorry for any bad grammar I'm just spitballing on my way to work.

The global market for process analyzer market is projected to have a considerable CAGR of around 8.1% during the forecast period. Process analyzers are electronic tools used for the examination of various industrial processes. They determine the chemical composition and physical properties of substances to enable process optimization and asset protection. They can also withstand harsh environments and extreme climatic conditions. Owing to these benefits, process analyzers are widely used in the chemical, oil and gas, petrochemical, and pharmaceutical sectors. Furthermore, as industrial wastewater contains high quantities of salts, particles, and toxic materials that are damaging to the environment, there is an increasing demand for wastewater treatment plants. The need for wastewater treatment and disposal is increasing as a result of the growing water shortage, which is also contributing to market growth. However, the need for highly skilled employees is required in the process analyzer sector for method operation, development, validation, and troubleshooting.
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Geographically, the global process analyzer market is classified into four major regions including North America (the US and Canada), Europe (UK, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, and Rest of Europe), Asia-Pacific (India, China, Japan, and Rest of Asia-Pacific), and Rest of the World (Latin America and the Middle East and Africa (MEA)). The Asia Pacific is projected to have a significant CAGR in the process analyzer market. In Asia-Pacific, the deployment of process analyzers and solutions is expected to increase rapidly during the forecast period in China, India, and Japan. Due to large-scale improvements and technological innovations in the manufacturing industry, the market in Asia-Pacific is growing rapidly, demanding the employment of process analyzer solutions. Due to the low labor costs and easy availability of a competent workforce, most of the major global firms from various industries have shifted their manufacturing operations to Asia-Pacific.
full report of Process Analyzer Market available @ https://www.omrglobal.com/industry-reports/process-analyzer-market
· Market Coverage
· Market number available for – 2024-2030
· Base year- 2023
· Forecast period- 2024-2030
· Segment Covered- By Source, By Product Type, By Applications
· Competitive Landscape- Archer Daniels Midland Co., Ingredion Inc., Kerry Group Plc, Cargill
· Inc., and others
Global Process Analyzer Market Report by Segment
Liquid Analyzer
• PH/ORP Analyzer
• Conductivity Analyzers
• Dissolved Oxygen Analyzers
• Turbidity Analyzers
• Others
Gas Analyzer
• Oxygen Analyzer
• Carbon Dioxide Analyzer
• Hydrogen Sulfide Analyzer
• Moisture Analyzer
• Toxic Gas Analyzer
Global Process Analyzer Market by Industry
• Oil & Gas
• Petrochemicals
• Pharmaceuticals
• Water & Wastewater
• Power
• Food & Beverages
• Others (Paper & Pulp, Metals & Mining, Cement & Glass, semiconductor processing)
Global Process Analyzer Market Report Segment by Region
North America
• United States
• Canada
Europe
• UK
• Germany
• Italy
• Spain
• France
• Rest of Europe
Asia-Pacific
• China
• India
• Japan
• South Korea
• Rest of Asia-Pacific
Rest of the World
• Latin America
• Middle East & Africa
The Report Covers
​

• Annualized market revenues ($ million) for each market segment.
• Country-wise analysis of major geographical regions.
• Key companies operating in the global process analyzer market. Based on the availability of data, information related to pipeline products, and relevant news is also available in the report.
• Analysis of business strategies by identifying the key market segments positioned for strong growth in the future.
• Analysis of market-entry and market expansion strategies.
• Competitive strategies by identifying 'who-stands-where in the market.

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In the coastal paradise of Newport Beach, where the rhythm of the ocean orchestrates the daily symphony of life, there exists a moment of unparalleled beauty that captivates both locals and visitors alike: the breathtaking sunset. As the sun descends beneath the horizon, painting the sky with hues of fiery orange, soft pink, and tranquil blue, Newport Beach transforms into a canvas of natural wonder, inviting all who witness it to pause, reflect, and revel in the sublime beauty of nature.
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Nestled along the pristine shores of Southern California, Newport Beach boasts a unique vantage point for observing the sunset. Whether you find yourself strolling along the sandy shores of Corona del Mar State Beach, perched atop the iconic Newport Pier, or sailing across the shimmering waters of Newport Harbor, each vantage point offers a different perspective, yet all promise an unforgettable experience.
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For those who prefer to feel the warmth of the sand beneath their toes, Corona del Mar State Beach provides an idyllic setting for sunset viewing. As the gentle waves lap against the shore and seagulls glide gracefully overhead, beachgoers gather along the coastline, eagerly anticipating the evening spectacle. With the iconic rock formations known as "Little Corona" silhouetted against the horizon, the scene is set for a mesmerizing display of color and light.
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Meanwhile, the Newport Pier stands as a beacon of tranquility amidst the bustling activity of the waterfront. Stretching out into the ocean, the pier offers unobstructed views of the sun as it dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow upon the surrounding landscape. Whether you're fishing from the pier, enjoying a leisurely stroll, or simply soaking in the sights and sounds of the ocean, the Newport Pier provides a front-row seat to nature's nightly performance.
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For those seeking a more adventurous vantage point, a sunset cruise on Newport Harbor offers an unparalleled experience. Drifting lazily across the tranquil waters, passengers are treated to panoramic views of the coastline bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. Against the backdrop of sailboats gliding gracefully across the harbor and waterfront mansions aglow with evening warmth, the sunset cruise offers a truly magical way to experience Newport Beach's natural beauty.
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Yet, perhaps the true magic of Newport Beach's sunset lies not only in its breathtaking visual splendor but also in the sense of peace and serenity it evokes. In a world that often moves at a frantic pace, the sunset serves as a gentle reminder to slow down, to savor the moment, and to appreciate the beauty that surrounds us. It's a time for reflection, for gratitude, and for connecting with the natural world in a profound and meaningful way.
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As the last rays of sunlight fade into the twilight sky, casting a soft, ethereal glow over Newport Beach, one can't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the beauty of the world we inhabit. In that fleeting moment between day and night, as the sky erupts in a symphony of color and light, Newport Beach's sunset reminds us of the timeless majesty of nature and the profound impact it has on our lives. So, the next time you find yourself in Newport Beach, be sure to set aside some time to catch the breathtaking sunset – it's an experience you won't soon forget.

Hello lovely people, I hope you're all alright. 💖
I feel I should get this out...even on a throwaway, as I have had absolutely no one else to truly let it all out. Please be warned this is gonna likely be super lengthy so you have NO obligation to read it...maybe it's just cathartic enough in of itself to just ramble openly into the void, as an otherwise deeply private person💖
Ive always known I cant/don't want children. I adore them but I have been psychologically too negatively affected by the horrific fallout of my parents' tempestuous, painful divorce that has since wrecked myself and my 8 other wonderful siblings.
All that's to say, I'm absolutely fucking terrified of ever going through another termination. PLEASE do not be put off by my words. I had a surgical termination, and the nursed and doctors were absolute literal angles. My bf of 10 years was with me. Other than when the dilation rods were inserted (I must warn anyone who needs this - brace yourselves for about 20 seconds of heavy pain), the anesthetic worked wonders.
Whether or not this has anything to do with it...the termination happened 2 days after my 30th birthday, and just four days after officially being made unemployed from a very well paid and enjoyable job, due to the contract ending. I was (and since then, still am) at a very low place, and haven't told a soul.
For me personally, knowing I was still right in my decisions, knowing I was not and will never be ready to be the best mam a child of mine deserves....I am so sad. More sad than I ever anticipated, if I'm honest. I am very introverted and through my 20s i whittled my social circle down smaller and smaller I think bc childhood trauma was becoming more brutal and significant surprisingly. And despite how close I am to my siblings, I opted to keep the pregnancy and termination private to just me and my partner. I knew my decision for years beforehand, and also it still made me feel so sad and distressed to be in this position to have to have a termination despite being so cautious with contraceptive all these years. I was just so distraught at it all I wanted to just get through it.
I also held back from my partner too. I'm a dreadful people pleaser. I cared more about his emotions than my own and so I held back and still do now.
I never told him that I obtained an ultrasound of my little baby that was once unexpectedly in my belly for a little short moment, nor the precious inked footprints the clinic gave me when it was all over. I felt, and still feel, the strangest and saddest pull. Its not regret in its usual form: I still KNOW I did the right thing. I simply feel too lost and emotionally deconstructed at 30 to ever do justice to a precious child. In another life, I know I'd have wanted motherhood. But my life path and its resounding quiet traumas that linger on me stated otherwise.
I don't expect anyone to have gotten this far, it was just so lovely to just finally write about it all here. Thank you for this safe space. I know I made the right decision, and not so much for myself: I'd have loved that baby with all my heart. But for the baby's sake: I fear I'd never be able to have given him the life he deserved.
The moment we both realised I was pregnant I felt so utterly shocked, disturbed, immediately guilty at knowing what my decision would be, and guilty on my secrecy. As mentioned, I couldn't bare discussing this with anyone else other than my partner who needed to know and ofc we are on the same wavelength. I KNOW now that I needed my mam maybe, or my sister..but I've gone my whole life hiding or minimising any of my own struggles at all I'm chronically private due to extreme people pleasing amongst some other deeper heavier stuff etc. So to this day I mentioned nothing. The worst thing was seeing my dad, who I love so much. Seeing him the day before my birthday (at that point I'd known for about 2 weeks I was pregnant and was waiting for the termination). Keeping this heavy heartbreaking secret, and hugging him in birthday celebrations and feeling so awful for being untruthful Also perhaps maybe I just wanted to cry and have comfort from my daddy in this scary life moment. I feel in total I've been a fake. The weeks that have followed, the rare times I've ventured outdoors also wallowing in unemployment too, I've been lactating. The cruel salt on the wounds. Lactating for the baby that now isn't here. I'm just so sad. And I never prepared myself for how sad I'd be left feeling over a decision I also know was 100% right. I haven't brought it up to my bf at all since. He hasn't asked me how I am at all since, I think the last time he asked me was probably about 3 or 4 days after the termination.
What's compelled me to word vomit perhaps is how last night feeling quite dire and desperately low (still no job, bf isn't my biggest fan, fighting off depression, months of not talking to anyone properlyor leaving the house, feeling so ugly too) i finally felt randomly pulled to revisit my precious, secret pictures. Ultrasound and baby feet. I finally allowed myself to start really crying about it all, and so last night I just cried and cried, and fell asleep hugging the little trinket I keep these pictures in. I also happen to keep a small cutting of a jacket of my grandpa that passed years ago, so now I feel both baby and my grampa are together in this trinket and last night I let myself feel comforted by the idea of their company stored inside there.
I wish my boyfriend would let me cry to him. I wish he didn't get over it all so quickly. I wish I had someone's chest to lean into and sob about it all.
The two weeks of waiting for the procedure, my mind was made up solidly. And still, I found myself stealing tiny moments of maternal holding at night in bed. I couldn't help it. I'd lie on my side trying to pretend life was normal...and I'd feel my baby in my belly. And I'd quietly cry and feel so disgustingly selfish and warped for having the audacity to hold and rub my belly gently, knowing the decision I had made. I stole these little late night moments to just cradle this little obscure, surreal, tiny bundle in my hands because I could not ignore - for two tortuous weeks - the sensations of movement and tightness. It was torture. And every single night leading to the appointment, making sure my bf was already sound asleep, I would quietly cry whilst holding my belly and whisper just how sorry I was for all of this. I felt so much love and guilt for this tiny mass in my belly.
I never found out his gender. The second I woke up from the surgery, I asked the nurse if they'd known the gender and she said no. She then asked me, "What do you think the gender was?"
I immediately replied, "a boy", despite having not thought hard about it until then. She said, "If this is your gut instinct then by all accounts, you're more than likely right."
I would've named him James.

Preface: this is for Vedic astrology and so refers to sidereal Cancer, not tropical cancer.
Cancer is a symbolic gateway to the realm of manifestation, where the primal cosmic vibration, Pranava, underwent differentiation into four fundamental entities, corresponding to the multifaceted aspects of Brahma: Vaisvanara, Hiranyagarbha, Prajna, and Ishvara. This process shows how the unified essence of Pranava is fragmented into distinct forms, each embodying a unique aspect of divine consciousness. Furthermore, Cancer is believed to encapsulate the essence of Parabrahman, the supreme reality, through its manifestation of the fourfold nature of existence: Sthula (physical), Sukshma (subtle), Bija (causal), and Sakshi (the silent witness). These facets represent the underlying substratum of reality, encompassing both the tangible and intangible dimensions of existence. Cancer is also associated with the four states of consciousness, elucidating the journey of the soul through various levels of awareness: Jagrath (wakeful), Sushupati (dreamful sleep), Turiya (deep sleep), and Nirvana (deep meditation). Each state unveils a distinct aspect of the soul's journey, from the mundane realm of everyday wakefulness to the depths of meditative absorption. These attributes are suggestive of the fact that Cancer has a wide range of operation and operates in the subjective as well as the objective realm of manifestation. The profundity of Hindu scriptures necessitates meticulous study and meditation to unveil the significance of their myriad symbols. Yet, it is understood that the cosmic manifestation, as delineated in these scriptures, encompasses both outer and inner realities, existing across dimensions with varying states of consciousness corresponding to diverse levels of manifestation. Cancer symbolizes the juncture where consciousness and matter were liberated from Pranava's unity within the Trinity. It explicates the interaction of time and space on the involutionary path of the soul and therefore can be confusing to pin down.
Cancer rules the natural fourth house in the zodiac. And despite what most traditional Western* astrologers will try to tell you, the significance of Cancer ruling the 4th house is very important, both to the essential meaning of this house and the sign itself. The number four holds a connection with the genesis of differentiation, acting as the stage of material cosmic creation. In Hindu mythology, Brahma epitomizes this stage of manifestation, depicted with four heads, a deeply important symbolic representation. Within the human constitution, the lower quaternary— encompassing the physical body, etheric double, astral body, and lower mental body— is transient, dissipating after each incarnation. Conversely, the higher triad, comprising the causal body, intuitive body, and spiritual body, serves as an enduring vessel of the human monad. Cancer signifies the moment of differentiation wherein the higher triad begets the lower quaternary. Brahma's four heads symbolize this quaternary, while also assuming multifaceted roles, such as overseeing the Cardinal directions and housing the four Vedas, among other functions. Each tier of manifestation harbors its distinct state of consciousness along with its presiding deity. And in the context of Vedic astrology, this symbolism holds many implications for understanding the significance of Cancer ruling the fourth house. The fourth house in Vedic astrology is not only about the physical home and family ties but also about one's karmic roots and emotional foundations. It delves into ancestral lineage and the imprints of time passed. It is the foundation of our inner world of emotions and subconscious mind. Often referred to as the bhava of the heart in Vedic astrology, the 4th house symbolizes the core of one's being and the sanctuary of the soul. As the ruler of the natural fourth house with which it gains its connection, Cancer holds sway over this inner sanctum, influencing how individuals perceive and experience their emotional landscape. Cancer's nurturing and sensitive qualities enliven the fourth house with a deep sense of security, comfort, and well-being, represented by the Moon. Just as the fourth house signifies the dwelling place of the soul within, Cancer's association with Brahma's four heads and the differentiation process speaks to the intricate layers of the subconscious mind. It suggests that, within the inner sanctum of the fourth house lie the seeds of karmic influence, ancestral memories, and emotional patterns carried over from past lives. In this way, both Cancer and the 4th house demonstrate the cosmic storehouse of our karmic heritage. It is the seed of our beginnings that later blossoms into the tree of our culminated experience.
Delving even deeper into the significations of Cancer, we see that it is representative of the Hindu concept of the Hiranyagarbha, often translated as the "golden womb" or "golden egg." Described in scriptures such as the Rigveda and the Upanishads, Hiranyagarbha symbolizes the primordial cosmic matrix from which the universe emanates. According to the Rigveda, Hiranyagarbha emerges from the cosmic waters, representing the potentiality of creation encapsulated within a golden egg. This cosmic egg contains the seeds of existence, embodying the latent energy that precedes manifestation. The Chandogya Upanishad further elaborates on Hiranyagarbha, depicting it as the source of all life and consciousness, from which the cosmos unfolds in its myriad forms. Thus, Hiranyagarbha represents the ultimate origin and substratum of the universe, symbolizing the infinite potentiality that gives rise to creation. In Vedic astrology, the association between Cancer and Hiranyagarbha lies in their shared symbolism of primordial creation and cosmic potentiality. Just as Hiranyagarbha represents the cosmic womb from which the universe emerges, Cancer is the gateway to manifestation of the creative principle. Both concepts signify the beginning nurture of creation, embodying the fertile essence from which all life arises and the subjective principle is concretized.
The core defining characteristics of Cancer, which illuminate its intrinsic nature, have been aptly portrayed as "saumya" (gentle), feminine, moveable, and watery, endowed with nocturnal strength and an affinity for aquatic habitats such as ponds or sandbanks. A cursory examination of these attributes demonstrates how the nuanced consciousness, increasingly entwined across various levels of manifestation, be it exoteric, esoteric, causal, or the Sakshi level, finds meaning in these descriptors. Water, often heralded as the essence of life manifesting in diverse forms, serves as a fitting emblem for Cancer. It is colorless, odorless, and seemingly without form, yet it nourishes and sustains all living entities. It is not uncommon for individuals under the Cancer ascendant to retreat from the mainstream of life, metaphorically excavating metaphorical holes into the realm of materiality, thus grounding themselves in earthly pursuits. Furthermore, it is not uncommon for other people to come to them. When Cancer is the Ascendant, the individual will function like a mighty ocean; diverse kinds of people will present to them their woes and sorrows, problems and confusion, and the Cancer native will enlighten and sustain them, assuaging their sorrows. Like water, Cancer is moveable, adaptable, and elusive. The societal milieu and environmental context in which an individual resides play an important role in shaping their fundamental nature. In different circumstances, they will be different people. And while this is true to a degree for all people, for Cancer-born individuals specifically, the context in which they are found will affect them deeply, reflecting the karmas of nurture. The feminine principle in nature (you can think of it like Yin, which is also a Sanskrit word), often synonymous with Prakriti, embodies the receptive aspect of creation, serving as the conduit for Purusha. Individuals born under the sign of Cancer are often similar to this principle, assuming the role of a vessel through which circumstances shape their being as mentioned before. They exhibit a propensity to yield to external forces, allowing events to mold their destiny without attempting to assert their own influence. This inclination, however, does not imply a lack of preferences, emotions, or willpower though; rather, their sensitivity is such that their innermost thoughts and feelings are transparently reflected in their demeanor and actions. Their gentle but sometimes tough temperament gives to them a uniquely graceful and commanding aura, and for that, they are often glorified yet victimized by society, seen both as the conniving seductress and the doting mother.
The ruler of Cancer, the Moon, perpetually expands when bathed in the radiance of the Sun's reflection, yet wanes in its absence, creating an intimate link between Cancer and the Sun. This proximity is evident in the positioning of Leo, the domicile of the Sun, adjacent to Cancer, lending a distinctive quality to this lunar-ruled sign. Cancer possesses the capacity to reflect the sublime glory of the divine, embodying the noblest form of spiritual manifestation and willingly sacrificing personal ego at the altar of the higher triad. However, Cancer remains fully individuated, possessing a keen awareness of its actions. Spiritually, those born under Cancer transform into occultists rather than mere psychics; in politics, they emerge as kingmakers rather than monarchs; in sports, they assume the role of coach over player; and as educators, they serve as guides rather than authoritarian figures. The potential for expansion and growth within Cancer ascendants is vast. They may exhibit tendencies toward materialism or inertia (tamas/ignorance), yet possess the capacity to delve into the essence of existence for spirituality. Nevertheless, the inherent traits of crab-like tenacity, egotism, or self-awareness persist, occasionally manifesting as over-occupation in mundane affairs. Hence, the ancient seers aptly categorized Cancer as either a Brahmin or a Sudra, showing that there can be myriad contradictions observed within Cancer ascendants, ranging from stark individualism to the unparalleled generosity of selfless service—from apparent folly to profound understanding.
Cancer experiences Jupiter's exaltation and Mars's debilitation. The Moon's dominion over human emotions grants Cancer ascendants a natural predisposition towards emotional tranquility, often remaining unruffled even amid life's most challenging crises. Their serenity is most pronounced when personal desires yield to a focus on the universal life force symbolized by the Sun. Jupiter, the divine counselor, holds heightened sway within Cancer, guiding aspirants towards their spiritual destination. Cancer individuals excel as educators, aided by the sign's supportive influence, which extends to facilitating deeper levels of meditation. Even those unversed in formal meditative practices may find themselves drawn to introspection, contemplation, and deep thought. Emotional fervor, aggressive pursuits, and the quest for personal glory pose risks for Cancer individuals. Despite Mars's debilitation in this sign, it serves as a yoga-karaka due to its rulership over the 5th and 10th houses. Consequently, Cancer ascendants thrive when they transcend personal concerns and courageously engage in activities related to the earth, such as agriculture, transportation, warfare, medicine, and mechanical engineering. Their detached demeanor positions them as adept advisors, leaders, scientists, inventors, and even artists.
For Cancer individuals, Saturn, the planet of constriction, presents significant challenges. The inclination towards thoughts of suicide can arise naturally due to Saturn's influence, especially as it governs the 7th and 8th houses, predisposing individuals towards self-annihilation. On a physical level, this may manifest as a life marked by misery, sorrow, poor health, anemia, depressive episodes, and a bleak outlook. However, for those advanced souls traversing the path of withdrawal, Saturn can inspire a life of renunciation, dedication, and altruistic endeavors for universal welfare. The trials faced by Cancer ascendants often extend to their marital life. They may not find common marital happiness, not due to sexual incompetence, but rather psychological complexities. Despite their dynamic mental nature, Cancer individuals may struggle with commitment, leading to dissatisfaction in monogamous relationships. While fidelity may not be at risk, a deep-seated dissatisfaction with the mundane aspects of married life can drive them away from marital bonds, leading to divorce, attempts to escape, or the creation of unbearable psychological complexities that undermine marital love. Cancer ascendants often postpone or enter into marriage later in life due to their ambivalence towards assuming the responsibilities of married life. Despite longing for affection and companionship, they harbor undefined fears regarding marriage. They may appear respectable and desire marriage until it becomes a reality, at which point they may seek to extricate themselves from it. They may engage in clandestine affairs while pining for the stability of marriage but feeling suffocated once within it. While they may excel as lovers, they often struggle as married partners, growing resentful of the perceived constraints imposed by stable relationships. Partners of Cancer individuals in such marriages may warrant careful psychological analysis due to the complexities involved.
Cancer individuals are drawn to material wealth and worldly success, but often find such achievements unfulfilling. They oscillate between pursuit and renunciation, which can be emotionally draining without a commitment to letting go of worldly attachments. They have a unique relationship with Venusian individuals, often gravitating towards those deeply entrenched in worldly pursuits. This may lead them to associate with individuals engaged in morally questionable behaviors, even if they themselves are spiritually evolved. They may feel a sense of duty to help such individuals, whether through medical treatment or spiritual guidance, driven by compassion and a strong sense of responsibility.
Cancer individuals are inherently adaptable, thriving amidst both opulent luxury and dire adversity, each situation unveiling new facets of their personality. Trials and tribulations serve to dismantle their selfish egos and peel away the outer layers of their inner life. Regardless of circumstances, Cancer individuals yearn for the unattainable, perpetually dissatisfied with their current state and constantly striving for advancement. Their journey resembles that of a chrysalis transforming into a butterfly, undergoing various stages of evolution before reaching maturity. This process fuels their introspection, prompting them to document their experiences and aspirations, often seeking self-validation. When directed outwardly, Cancer ascendants can catalyze significant social change, quietly and persistently advocating for a new societal order.
Jupiter, governing the 9th and 10th houses from Cancer, offers vast opportunities for expansion to Cancer ascendants. With Mars in a favorable position (as the ruler of the 10th house and exalted in Capricorn), individuals can continually evolve and ascend to great heights of success. However, maintaining balance is crucial to prevent potential downfall. As politicians, they must remain vigilant about their party's position; as scientists, they must remain dedicated to their research; and as spiritual teachers, they must seek higher initiations. Despite their expansive nature, Cancer individuals are perpetually dissatisfied. Their life challenges often stem from marriage and other constraints. While materialism may offer discipline, they are prone to experiencing great highs followed by significant lows. Success as occultists is within their grasp, but without it, they may endure a series of frustrating experiences.

Nothing significant was accomplished today. After bathing, I went back to sleep. When I woke up, I boiled me some rice to go with my stew from Friday. Then I was on YouTube, which has been my preoccupation these past few days. I've been severely depressed. Haven't been able to get to doing anything productive except sleep and binge on YouTube.
Besides being depressed, I find myself pushing people away for being…well, you know, people. I'm just so tired of people. This must be how caged animals feel after some time before lapsing into a phase of aggression . I'm still in my phase of coldness. For example, Ben acted like a human on Thursday after my court because I didn't let him have his way… Still waiting for him to call since then.
Also, A.D was here to see me today but could quickly picked up in my tone that I didn't want to see him and so left. I don't mind losing them and many more like them. You don't need people who only come to you for what they can get and stay away immediately you don't let them get some anymore. It's good practice to deliberately say “NO” to people sometimes to test if they'd still be with you when you don't let them have what they want from you.
You lose some and win some goes a saying. I've lost a lot on the outside but gaining grounds in these four walls. Today is my 341st day in prison and I've managed to, with the use of positive devices, make myself one of the most influential people here, within and outside the cell. I can say without bragging that I carry an influence that is very significant now. So much so that my words alone can destabilize the cell or topple the present provostship. All I need is to speak.
As an instance of this, a court was convened in the cell to try a case between Pastor KC and one Locker at night. The provost discharged the obviously erring Locker on technical grounds and KC who was the complainant wasn't very pleased and stepped out to challenge the provost's decision, causing a debate that almost devolved into shawoo (a brawl). All it took to tame the rising inferno was me stepping to the floor and telling them that the provost's decision would not be challenged and wasn't open for debate, and then dismissed the court, leaving the provost's decision sustained.
But it wasn't just that simple. Besides just influence, I made recourse to the law of cells. I quoted the first one which states that the provost's order is final. Meaning that it shall not be challenged, and to do otherwise is an attempt at mutiny. Then I asked the provost if he'd suspended the law in our cell to which he answered in the negative.
Hearing that, I bellowed that we'd stand on law one, that the provost's decision stood and would not be debated. The clamor fizzled out like a whirlwind when spent. Many who had perceived the previously looming danger sighed in gratitude and relief, some even silently mouthing “thank you” as I returned to my bunk.
A shawoo, without fail, often results in deaths and is to be avoided at all costs. And I can say that I stopped that bullet using my words dipped in influence. I remember setting the cell on fire some days before the last provost left using the reverse. I always stand with the people no matter what. So, my position wasn't so much about right or wrong, but rather about what was best for all – peace, the opposite of shawoo.
Tomorrow is Monday and there are many things I can guarantee on a prison day like that, but none of them is early opening.
Goodnight Diary!

Monday
Dimmy: Good morning from Stevie Kate in her zipped-up crib tent jail! In honor of Earth Day, she’s sleeping atop more plastic than every Dallas influencer combined contributes to the landfill! Dance, monkey, dance! I mean sing, monkey, sing!
Sorrowful Kate: 🎼I am a child of God, And he has sent me here, Has given me an earthly home With one parent kind and one to fear.
I am a child of God, And so my needs are great; Help me learn why I’m exploited online Before it grows too late.
I am a child of God. Rich blessings are in store; If I learn to help my parents shill They’ll be able to consume more and more. 🎶
Dimmy, laughs nervously: That’s enough, Stevie Kate. Let’s talk like Peppa Pig in a British accent instead! Cockney Kate: Hello, cheerio, have a great day!
Dimmy: The girls and I miss my parents already! Luckily Normal Sister is here! Isn’t she pretty? If I ate food and washed my hair, we could be mistaken for twins! Stevie Kate adores her. I am so glad my family has been cycling through to help me with London and Stevie Kate, help me keep my sanity, and keep the fridge troll away. Ahh I just love being a mom when I have lots of help. Especially when there are more Johnsons, less Houghtons! Oh by the way, London learned how to hold her own bottle while my parents were here! Stay tuned to see what other milestones she reaches next before Lily does! Let’s see, what else have we been up to, other than holding London’s head in an awkward, unnatural position… Oh, princess Candyland! We played lots of Candyland and Stevie Kate gave London a bath.
Dimmy: Don’t mind my breast pumps, I realized my giveaway story was taken down so I have to share it again. So weird! Did all of you assholes report my fake giveaway to Instagram? Your punishment is this multi-story razor shill. It’s a GAME CHANGER.
Tuesday
Camera Kate spent the day taking pictures with Kimmy’s phone and her linkable toy camera that prints black and white photos. She also spent the morning coloring her cardboard bakery but Dimmy wasn’t interested in that because she didn’t have a code for it. She did have a code for bras though so she dumped the kids on her sister, then laid underwear out on her bed to shill. Oh well, at least she didn’t wear the bras over her shirt like Tiffany did. Use code FFSANOTHERSHILL if you want to see more underwear linked up by influencers.
Dimmy: I’m done shilling bras to the poors! Have you finished cleaning my house and doing all the laundry yet? Normal Sister: Actually we’re packing now. We have to head home today! Dimmy: What?! But I have a massage booked for 3:00! Normal Sister: Yeah, sorry, family emergency! The emergency is I’ve barely seen you because you’ve been shilling things on Instagram the whole time we have been here!
Thursday
🚨‼️ BREAKING NEWS‼️🚨 Dimmy finally washed her hair!
But then she ruined it with Divi scalp serum. For shill’s sake.
Dimmy: Look at this photo of me in a dress! See I have proof that I actually got ready today… but this dress became covered in spit-up 10 minutes later so I’m back in my comfies now. Don’t lie, Kimmy. Spit up or not, we know you only put that dress on for 10 minutes so you could link it.
🚨‼️ BREAKING NEWS‼️🚨 Dimmy is dying!
Oh wait, never mind, she literally is not. She just said that as a lead up to her Stoney Clover shill. The overpriced childish-looking bag company sent her a large pouch personalized with “It’s a great day to be a Houghton” and she claims she is literally dying. Like it’s so stinkin’ cute, she is literally dead. Also dying is Tiffany, who threw her phone in anger when she saw Kimmy’s big Houghton bag on stories. She chucked her “Moffitt Miracle” Stoney Clover in the trash and beat Adam about the face and neck with her white plastic boots.
Meanwhile Stevie Kate camped out in the narrow side yard with her Minky blankets, Tonies and Magic Spoon while her mom was preoccupied with her shills, London MiShill, and literally dying.
Continued in Comments
LINK TO PHOTO

First - Previous - Anchor Points: Uplift - Patreon
CHAPTER 7 – SHAKEDOWN
DATE: DECEMBER 29th, 6 A.U. (AFTER UNIFICATION) LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, ABOARD UTRN INDOMITABLE WILL, BLACK SITE S33
CAPTAIN HENRY O’TOOLE
A bead of sweat rolled down Henry’s brow while he watched Paul on the monitor. So far, the ship had performed every test admirably and each section chief had signed off that their systems were ready for service.
We're as ready to launch as we're ever going to be... Henry took a deep breath as the dry dock doors finally finished their painfully slow opening process.
"Alright, Paul, it's time." Henry spoke from his captain's chair on the systems map platform overlooking the rest of the CIC.
Off to his right, a screen displayed a small group wearing space suits on the primary observation platform over the hull of the Indomitable Will. Paul stepped forward, one magnetized step at a time, as he examined a champagne bottle in his suited hands. He looked back at the rest of the station leadership behind him before he turned back to the ship to speak.
"This project has been the subject of my every waking hour for nearly two years now, but for the men behind me it is the culmination of a lifetime of knowledge and five years of very hard, very fast-paced work. You have clearly, with plenty of help, out-done yourselves. I know there is normally much more fanfare around a ship launch but we've all decided against that, considering the circumstances. I still want to show our esteem for the hard work of each and every one of you who helped make this possible with at least a few words before we break this bottle over the hull. In another set of circumstances this would be a mission for the history books, with the eyes of a hopeful world upon us as we embarked on a mission of peace and exploration. Our enemy has robbed this possibility from us, replacing it with a desperate gamble for our very survival, should the worst come to pass. We all know the stakes both of success and failure, and I trust that we will embark upon this journey with the appropriate understanding of just how critical our own roles will be in the coming months and years. We have picked out the best crew we could find, and you have all proven yourselves ready for the responsibility that we are about to shoulder together. Our ship was named the Indomitable Will, as nothing less will be acceptable in the months ahead if we hope to succeed against the impossible odds we face. In the name of the North American Union and the United Terran Republic, I christen thee the UTRN Indomitable Will, SVM-001!"
Paul then threw the bottle toward the ship. A gasp emerged from below as the bottle bounced off the bow, rather than breaking upon it. Henry's stomach instantly tied itself in knots, and the mood in the CIC plummeted as the camera showed the unbroken bottle sailing off screen.
It's just a superstition, everyone, we'll be fine.... Henry pulled himself together as he saw Paul board the ship and seal the airlock behind him. Looking around the room at the scared looks and tense whispers, Henry decided that he needed to just proceed as if things were normal.
“Helm, activate Telekinetic drive generators and set them to hover. Disengage the docking clamps! Has STC forwarded us the asteroid drift charts for navigation yet?” Henry said with all the confidence he could muster.
Aye Captain!” their helmsman said.
“Asteroid drift charts are updated, awaiting orders, sir.” Navigation reported in.
"The lieutenant is on board, sir!" His officer of the watch stated.
"Excellent, let's get under way then." Henry said.
Henry coolly readjusted his balance as the ship began accelerating slowly out of its berth and into the blackness of space. Small glints were visible off the otherwise pitch black hulls of the eight frigates that waited a few hundred kilometers ahead. One by one, in a preordained order, each frigate fell in alongside their new mothership and docked themselves into their assigned saddle. There each ship would stay, ready to launch from embedded electromagnetic rails at a moment’s notice should the need arise.
As the last frigate settled into place, Henry steeled himself to give the next order. As much as he trusted his genius of a girlfriend and the massive amount of testing they had done, even she admitted that the first test fire of each individual system would be a risky endeavor.
Get it together, Henry, that bottle is just an old superstition. Henry shook his nervousness off and called Chantal’s station in between both of the C.L.A.P.P.E.R reactors.
Her smiling face greeted him. “Hiiii Henry! We are all warmed up and ready down here. Just give the word my captain, and we can fire at will.”
“Well then, no sense in beating around the bush, let's begin our space trials then. Looks like our capacitors are about full, so prepare to warm up the port side C.L.A.P.P.E.R reactor. Fire control, prepare a firing solution for the target I have marked on the system map.”
Well, here’s to not blowing us all up moments after launch….
Henry watched as the last few percentage points filled on their capacitor charge before he yelled out “Fire!” The lights dimmed as all available power was routed along with a full capacitor charge into the port compression fusion reactor. The infinite repulsive effect of the null matter fed into the system to squeeze the Deuterium charge together. The null matter forced mass particle collisions and raised the contained pressure and heat exponentially until it sparked a runaway fusion reaction. The lights returned to full brightness in the CIC as the negative mass field-collapsed. Powerful electromagnetic containment fields forced the fresh plasma from the reactor and then down the barrel in a tightly contained packet.
The moment the blazing plasma escaped the muzzle, it was captured within a new null barrier generated by a drone that launched alongside it. Together, they accelerated straight towards the asteroid Henry had designated for testing. At the last second, the drone cut the barrier and swerved to the side to return to the Indomitable Will, ready to fly again. The asteroid was atomized on impact as the plasma ball expanded into a bright cloud of charged particles. A cheer emerged from the CIC as the main screens replayed the scene from multiple angles. Henry looked over to see an ecstatic Chantal on screen.
“THAT ASTEROID JUST GOT CLAPPED!” She shouted.
She shrugged at Henry while she mouthed the words 'I had to say it' with a shameless wink. Henry just laughed,being well-used to her humor and antics by this stage.
“Charge capacitors to full and prepare the starboard C.L.A.P.P.E.R to fire!” Henry shouted, as he assigned their next target, a double-thickness section of alien hull plate which had been stealthily cut from the underwater portion of the downed craft in the heart of the Manhattan Crater Bay. He watched the display as the ship’s four LFTR cores worked at full capacity to fill the dedicated stacked and twisted graphene super-capacitors for the starboard C.L.A.P.P.E.R. The moment they read full, Henry yelled. “FIRE!”
Again, the lights dimmed as the starboard C.L.A.P.P.E.R released it’s contained plasma packet into the void which was captured by a fresh drone. Alien hull plate was notoriously difficult to pierce with most conventional weaponry, which was why the idea of working fusion plasma weaponry had been so attractive. The running joke was that Naval R&D was constantly five to ten years out from working plasma weaponry and always would be, as most of the technologies involved were the very same ones that were necessary for fusion power generation.
Once the C.L.A.P.P.E.R system could be proven to be viable, stable, safe, and effective without major maintenance headaches, it would forever change the balance of power in the favor of humanity. The prototype had already seen extensive testing and improvements, Henry hoped he would be able to come to rely upon the working models in his ship when it counted most. At least if they were to become a ticking time bomb, they could be rapidly ejected far, far away in a real emergency.
Just like before, the drone dropped the barrier at the critical moment to deliver its payload and returned to the ship. No matter how effective the exotic alloy blend, or how well the outer ceramic layers dissipated heat, there was a point at which physics would not be denied. Henry smiled as the super-heated plasma boiled its way straight through the double-thick hull plate piece. The insane difficulty of smuggling away a hull plate section for this test meant it could only be performed once, but the results were undeniable as the damage inflicted was utter and complete. The still-hot plasma dissipated in a cone shape into the void far beyond the initial impact point, implying that the damage to unlucky ship’s interior after a direct hit would be every bit as catastrophic.
“Dr. Washington, this weapon system might just change everything for us.” Henry said, beaming with pride.
“Thank you, my captain. I will work my tail off to keep my babies working as promised.” Chantal smiled without reservation. Henry was happy to let her bask in the feeling; she had more than earned it.
“Temperatures that high and pressures that extreme take a toll, we ought to save this thing for a really dire situation, to reduce wear and tear, if nothing else.” Paul said, spoiling the mood as he entered the CIC.
Henry stared daggers at the man. In spite of that, Paul remained stubbornly unperturbed with his trademark cocky smile plastered on his face.
“Yes, Paul, that has long been considered in the materials science, such concerns informed our alloy choices and helped us design the maintenance cycle. Obviously, all systems have a defined lifespan that reduces with use before we must to take them offline for preventative maintenance and parts replacement. It helps that we have plenty of other offensive options at our disposal that we could use first.” Chantal shrugged, shedding the negativity like water off a duck’s back.
That was one thing that Henry was truly beginning to appreciate about her above all else; she had a relentless positive mental attitude ingrained within her. This time, Henry smirked at Paul.
"Alright, enough, let's get back to the task at hand." Henry said in order to cut Paul off from a snark filled reply.
“I am satisfied with these tests here to say that the system is working as intended. Does my captain agree to certify the C.L.A.P.P.E.R system as ready for duty?” Chantal asked.
“I will agree to certify the C.L.A.P.P.E.R as ready for duty, pending a full inspection and report to be delivered in my quarters at the start of C shift.” Henry replied with a smile.
“Awesome! I had better get down there and inspect things while they are hot.” She said, “I can’t wait to give you the full and exhaustive report on the matter in your quarters later, Captain. I'm sure you'll find my report to be... most stimulating.” She then cut the feed with a smile that made Henry stiffen in anticipation.
With monumental effort, he snapped himself out of it and fired up the ship-wide intercom.
“All right, Helm, I am charting a course for you to guide us through, Should be around a three hour flight at one gee. Fire control, I want a full systems test of every laser battery on this ship in the meantime. Once we clear this cluster of asteroids and we have some room to maneuver we will test the drone launch and recovery systems as well as test our pilot’s response readiness times. Magazine control, I want you to test the feeding systems for our tactical missile inventory. We will test every major combat system on this ship by the end of today. If I haven’t mentioned your section yet, you can expect a visit from me soon, so be ready.”
Henry looked over his extensive list of tasks and systems he had to personally sign off on and resigned himself to a long couple of days. He then picked up his tablet and walked out of the CIC with the intent to waste no more time. He reached the quick lift and rode it down one level into deck one and then made his way over to engineering. He received salutes as he passed and exchanged words where needed to check systems until he reached the door that allowed maintenance access to their FTL system. He stopped dead in his tracks as he got a crawling, horrible sense of trepidation while staring at the door. Suddenly the lights flickered and died out; the room looked very different bathed in amber emergency lights. The effect lasted only a second before the regular lights came back and the feeling of fear dissipated.
What... in the fuck...? Henry shook it off, continued his checklist, and made a note to look into the lights. This whole deck is on the essential systems power bus...
Idly, he wondered how many other little technical gremlins existed in the ship's other systems. He shuddered at the thought, though was thankful that most technologies used in his ship were already battle proven in the rest of the fleet. There were some novel systems, though, and the launch of a new class of ship always required addressing unforeseen technical challenges. Those were the ones that worried him most.
He looked at the checklist again, a bit more thankful for the thoroughness of it and got back to work. Each of his frigates had been checked and had been flying drills and running supplies around S33 for some time. They were all relatively proven, simple designs and could be relied upon when the moment came. His own ship, was a different matter, and he was determined to catch every little issue he could before they left their home port and the possibility of easy repair behind.
It was going to be an intense few weeks, but Henry found himself to feel more excited by the prospect more than he felt overwhelmed by it. He took that as a good sign, and thus encouraged, got back to work. Next stop was electrical, which seemed destined be a source of trouble for him already. While it was true they had very little time to work out any issues before their official launch, Henry was grateful to have some say in pushing that back if need be.
Fighting back a headache, Henry opened his neural implant interface and messaged the electrician's mate to meet him immediately.
MEANWHILE…
DATE: DECEMBER 29th, 6 A.U. (AFTER UNIFICATION) LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, S33
FIREMAN APPRENTICE ANDREW REESE
“The captain wants to meet with me any minute, and not a single one of you worthless lot have anything for me to report to him?”
Andrew felt the tension in the air as the question lingered. Never had he felt so at the bottom of the power dynamic before, and it infuriated him. The Chief had rank on him, and he had to continue to play the role of loyal crewmate if he wanted to remain above suspicion.
“What about you, NUB? We pulled you from the line at Liberty Station, or how about one of you two? You three are supposed to have college backgrounds. Anything?”
Reese felt very little tension himself, even as the chief briefly locked eyes with him. Beside him, the others seemed ready to crack under the pressure.
I'll have to be careful when I test that one.
Andrew then realized that he had been forgetting to blend into the background emotions of the moment; he had allowed himself to be seen as an anomaly.
Sloppy, time to turn this around.
“We've been at this for hours it feels like, I don’t know about an answer, but we can stall for time by blaming it on the mass power draw for the C.L.A.P.P.E.R being fired back to back. That should mollify the captain and buy us some time here to find the real answer.” Andrew said, hoping he had struck a perfect balance. The chief simply laughed for a moment before collecting himself.
“All right, I like it, simple, plausible, and nebulous enough that it should work as a delaying action. Now split up and look to your training partner for assignment. We will comb through every system and sort this issue out, or command will have our heads! Dismissed.”
Excellent, he just had to make himself just the right amount of indispensable without directly kissing ass while he continued to subtly probe the loyalties of those around him.
Unfortunately, his mission had borne little fruit thus far, as his opportunities to recruit had been rather scarce. He had met quite a few people who were clearly excited about the idea of being explorers and cared little about the obvious risks. Once the ship was underway, it would hopefully get easier. He simply needed more opportunities to flash his charm and to build enough trust to slowly sap some of these fools naive confidence to replace it with hard realism.
Andrew knew that he had to play the long game with each and every one of these people. The price of failure in any way meant death for them all, and Andrew planned on surviving this mission, whatever it took.
First - Previous - Anchor Points: Uplift - Patreon

I’ll admit, I’m hooked ( pun intended ) You guys have been incredibly helpful on this journey Basically as the title says. I started with a cheap spinning reel and found that I do indeed enjoy fishing. I’m finally in a position to set myself up with my first “decent” combo. I have a budget of around $80-$120. Obviously the lower cost the better but I want something that will last me a few seasons and will not give me any trouble fresh water fishing in Virginia. I have no plans to salt water fish with it either. My target species are: Panfish, LM Bass, Chain Pickeral, and I wouldn’t mind being able to get in a striped bass. My preferences: I really enjoy shorter rods. I definitely wouldn’t be comfortable going over 6’6 and would honestly prefer a 6’ rod. I am mostly comfortable with spinning reels but want something that feels good if that’s not being too vague lol. Thanks a ton!

[US to Anywhere][Perfume][Sell/Picky Swap]
Feel free to make offers.
BASIC INFO

• Please comment to claim!
• Shipping to the US is $5 or FREE if you buy $50+
• International shipping would probably ~$18 but please ask for a quote if outside the US. $10 anywhere for $50+ purchases (up to 8oz/225g). I can also ship to Ajevie.
• I try to ship next business day after payment.
• Payment or communication should be sent within 24 hours of claiming.
• By default, all packages include candy, stickers, and teabags
• Open to offers but picky about swaps.

FREE PACKING MATERIAL
At work I throw out thousands of clean bubble wrap sleeves (~3"x4", no sticky strip) and sheets of ultra-thin packing foam. They are used to ship stainless steel components and are perfectly clean. Take as much as you want for the cost of shipping.
[US/US][buy/swap]Perfume
ISO (minimum purchase/swap quantity is 3mL)
I'm more open to purchasing if the item is DCed/not available direct. If it is still available from the shop, I strongly prefer swaps but would be open to buying partials or discounted bottles. I will probably swap heavily in your favor for prioritized ISO items.
If something is marked "FS", I'd probably accept partials/decants with 2mL+. If something is marked "sample", I'd take a FS as part of a swap.

• Alkemia: Confectionaire, Cupid's Arrow, This Summer Night (sample or 5mL)
• Amorphous: Sanguneta, Strawberry Fawn (dram/5mL)
• Area of Effect: Kokiri's Emerald, Game Over, Riften, The Fade, Camper, Outset Island (3mL preferred)
• BPAL: Dark Chocolate, Whiskey, and Cardamom-Infused Caramel (any amt)
• Cocoa Pink: Vampire's Bane (2.5 or 10 mL)
• Debaucherous Bath & Body: Coyote Red (any amt, DISO), The Bee Queen (any amt), Red Queen's Rage (FS/partial)
• Haus of Gloi: Molokai FS (5mL)
• Poesie: Strange Unearthly Thing (5mL)
• Possets: Coo (5mL)
• Sorcellerie: Moon Magic, Where the Wild Things Grow (pref 5mL for both)

FOR SALE
FULL SIZE/PARTIAL BOTTLES (2.5mL+) All full (no visible depletion) unless noted.

• Arcana Craves - Pumpkins Crave Quietude (Soft vanilla, white amber, white musk, Mysore sandalwood, sweet pumpkin, and a tiny pinch of white pepper) ~4.5mL (to label) Swap for ISO
• Arcana Wildcraft - Nog AF (Eggnog, Arcana’s beloved Yellow Cake note, rum, fresh milk, nutmeg, and a drizzle of toasty caramel) Full to label $17
• Arcana Wildcraft - The Cunning Folk (An unread magical grimoire smudged with tobacco and surrounded by offerings of chocolate and golden amber) 5mL $20
• Arcana Wildcraft - Witches Trace Sigils in the Dirt (Moss, soft forest floor, blood cedar trees, tangled vines winding over crags, damp patchouli leaves, and rosemary) 5mL $20
• Arcana Wildcraft - Mountain Witch (Roasted black coffee beans with a swirl of woody incense, wild-harvested spruce needles, fir balsam absolute, green moss, damp firewood, soft earth, and a hint of Oregon wildflowers) 5mL $20
• Black Hearted Tart - Cloud On My Tongue (Cotton candy, pink peony, pink musk.) 4mL full $9
• Darling Clandestine - Pyrotechnik (cantaloupe and raw sandalwood darkened with smoke and earth) 9mL $14
• Deep Midnight - Afterfest (Bread, Honey, Tea, Hops) Full 9mL rollerball, used once $22
• Nui Cobalt - Bee in Your Bonnet (Raw rhubarb and cardamom with toasted oats, Madagascar vanilla, ginger ale, and caramelized honey) 5mL top of label $14
• Possets - The Golden Diadem (sweet hawthorne, honey and molasses, syrup of tamarind, and candied ginger) 5mL $13
• Possets - Heka (gourd accord and slides into a fine brew of lavender, oakmoss, and thyme which are twined around a resinous ambery heart) ~3mL in original bottle $10
• Solstice Scents - Corvin's Smoked Apple (applewood smoke, apple, caramel, benzoin, guaiacwood) 5mL (open but with box) $16
• Solstice Scents - Upstairs Window (Glowing Amber, Dragon's Blood, Beeswax, Spices, Fog) ~4mL (leaked in transit from shop) $14
• Solstice Scents - Sirocco (Sandalwood, Saffron Threads, Hot Baked Earth, Myrrh, Spices, Oud & Jasmine) 5mL $17
• Wylde Ivy - Midnight Dreary Collection Complete dram (3.7mL) gift set in themed box. Tested but full. $45 for set (orig $55) or $11/ea to split (dram size not offered separately on site).
  

  A Midnight Dreary: coffee grounds, cedar smoke, rum, well aged leather, black vanilla, singed tonka, dripping wax, with a touch of spiced amber and fireplace embers.
  An Agony of Desire: bergamot, mandarin, juniper berries, pepper spiked plum, orris, white sandalwood, incense smoke and amber musk.
  Lost Lenore: dewy pink roses, faded parchment, ambergris, dried heather flowers, and white amber sugar.
  This Kingdom by the Sea: sea salt sprayed stone, sun bleached cedarwood, black amber resin, flowering wood sage, and sweet dune grass.
  The Moon Never Beams: vanilla beans, tonka infused cream, vanilla sugar musk, and just a whisper of vanilla orchids.
  

SAMPLES (and partials 2.5mL and under)

• Aether Arts - Reflection (Sage and Ozonic notes; Cactus Flower, Watery Notes, Sage and Floral Notes; Cedar and Woody Notes.) .74mL shop slink $6
• Alkemia - The Love Thief (Siberian roseroot, oud, myrrh, tonka, vanila, spices, ed zafran, candied angelica, davana, santal, vetiver) .74mL $4
• Arcana Craves - Honey Craves Sunshowers (warm cardamom, bright sunshine and scattered raindrops, then softened with Tahitian vanilla, sheer georgette, salty Ambroxan, and wildflower honey) 2mL in orig bottle $8
• Deep Midnight - Faerie Kitten (Sandalwood, Frangipani, Pear, Patchouli) $3
• Deep Midnight - Jersey Devil (Cranberry, Pine, Soil, Moss, Fog, Dead Leaves, Myrrh) $3
• Morari - Gingered Suede (Crystallized Ginger, Geranium, Suede, Benzoin) 1mL $2
• Morari - Penelope (Plumeria, melon rind, tomato, guava, jasmine, salt) 1mL $2
• Morari - The Wood Witches Magic (Cherry, Cardamom, Amber, Agarwood, Patchouli) 1mL $2
• Olympic Orchids - Night Flyer (sandalwood, olibanum wood, vetiver, furry musk accord, wet earth, damp air, mineral notes, resins, leather, figs, banana, soft tropical fruits.) .74mL $2
• Pineward - Mint Cocoa (notes unknown) 2mL EDP sample $5
• Pineward - Glühwein (cranberry, champaca, cherry compote, raspberry, fir balsam, chocolate, davana attar, oakmoss, frankincense) 2mL EDP sample $5
• Pineward - Cotswold (cedar, smoke, oakwood, ponderosa pine needles, vanilla.) ~.6mL in old-style slink $2
• Possets - Silver Roses (Rose, silver base) $2
• Solstice Scents - Tenebrous Mists (Skin Musk, White Amber, Sea Spray, Sandalwood, Bay Rum, Tea, Smoke) $2
• Solstice Scents - Mountain Vanilla (sweet clover, coumarin, vanilla musk, fresh green accord, poplar buds, morning dew) ~2mL in orig bottle $8
• Wylde Ivy - The Owl (crystalized wildflower honey, smoked vanilla beans, raw amber, and kindled birch wood) 2mL EDP sample $4
• Wylde Ivy - Clear Quartz (sweet ozone, fresh cotton, white tea leaves, babies breath, bergamot, sweet crystal water, white amber, and sheer musk) 2mL EDP sample $4

JEWELRY
I made these years ago and have worn each once or twice. Both are brass with stone, glass, and metal beads. I'd be happy to swap for 'em for approximate values (or just sell).

• Vaguely witchy purple necklace and earring set $25
• Sorta art deco-ish green necklace $20

My first post here. I’ve found comfort in knowing there are so many of us. On the flip side, it makes me feel even more hopeless that this may just be how it is.
I grew up never having any direction on how to cleanse down there. So I used Dial or whatever fragranced bar soap there was. Never had an issue. In early adulthood I discovered bubble baths gave me a UTI but still no BV / YI.
In my first pregnancy I developed my first yeast infection. Treated it with Diflucan. In my second pregnancy I found out I tested positive BV / YI in my baseline screening. Treated both.
Things must’ve been mostly okay in the 2 years after that because I don’t remember anything particularly hellish. Since the beginning of 2022 I’ve been dealing with BV or YI on and off. In the last year the longest I’ve gone is 1 month without issue. It’s typically 2 weeks.
I’ve tried Monistat, Metrogel, Diflucan, oral antibiotics, probiotics, boric acid, switching to bamboo toilet paper, washing underwear seperately and on hot (tried using bleach and no bleach, use gentle detergent), tried using soap and no soap (I typically do none just water), baking soda baths. I am at the end of my rope.
Most days I have a constant uncomfortable feeling, slight burning and mild itching. My discharge appears normal. There is no fishy odor. No chunks. No green.
Please someone tell me there is light. Bc I feel so hopeless. I never knew feminine health could impact mental health so much.

Don't really post on reddit but I guess i need peoples opinions on this one. Or better to say , different points of view. I am 23 and have been diagnosed with MS when I was 16. I am an "Economist" by profession so I take most information that i consume , mainly statistically and realistically. Now , anyone that has studied economics is all too familiar with the uncertainty of our suggestions or our decisions . You take the information that you are given and with that you try to make as good of an analysis as possible , but not necessarily come up with an absolute solution as things may be unpredictable.
And yet I look at MS data , I look at personal experiences aswell and I sometimes think i am thinking our of character as all my conclusions seem to look at a positive outcome and I am afraid my human nature of hope, and the desire to maybe even lie to myself may be alluding me. I had two relapses , the first being worse than the first , and in the second relapse , all the symptoms went away on their own without corticosteroids (although it took almost 1 year). I told my doctor her in Italy that i want an all or nothing treatment (i meant HSCT) and lets say he was quite reluctant but diplomatic in his aproach as he was charsimatic enought to convince me not to do it. Giving up on the HSCT , i asked atleast to be put on a clinical trial . Atleast help future ms'ers and the community in general. After all i am quite young and generaly hard to break mentally ( this is a self-proclamation , take it with a grain of salt).
I have tried my best , to have my neurologists answer me this selfish but quite important question. "If hypothetically , the ms'ers who are in their 20-30's and have a low EDSS and take DMT , remain stable and without relapses for decades to come , Would you feel confident to say that highly likely , by the time these people start to experience PIRA that reflects on their EDSS significantly , some new treatment would have emerged that would stop this process entirely?" The answer is always "I cant say for sure". I attempted to reassure them that the answer that they would give , will not be used against them by me personally in case something went wrong with my wellbeing and yet still they don't answer the question.
I took this as quite a red flag and yet when i look at statistics , it just doesn't make any sense. All MS metrics , from average EDSS by age being lower than in the past (even considering the fact that doctors have gotten better at diagnosing milder MS and treatments themselves have gotten better be it in efficiency and availability), funding in new MS research being triple that of last year , the number of drugs being now researched seem to be mainly targeting progression etc (AI in medicine , much higher investment in the field as more people are being diagnosed with MS , government funding in preventing disability in youngsters as its better than life benefits).
I will not go into detail as i assume people that follow this page , tend to be quite informed on the Ms community landscape , and i know that a lot of you are quite disappointed in the progress that the medical field has archived may not have been enough ,but wouldn't you say , that looking at the current situation of MS treatment , it almost seems impossible that in the near future (15-30 years) this disease will be tackled at a adequate level , so it may not even have an impact in our everyday lives? Are the doctors just too scared to give an answer to my question out of the fear of responsability in case such statements might be used against them in the future or am I just being naive , in a field that statistics might not matter as much? Thank you for taking your time to read this.