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Please Consider Supporting My Mom's Dream of Sharing Her Handmade Jewelry with the World
2024.05.15 01:00 SloppyNoggin Please Consider Supporting My Mom's Dream of Sharing Her Handmade Jewelry with the World
Hi everyone,
I hope this message finds you well. I'm reaching out to this amazing community because I believe in the power of kindness and support that I've seen here so many times.
My mom has always been an incredibly creative and talented person. She has been making beautiful, unique jewelry for as long as I can remember. It was always her dream to share her creations with the world, and she finally took the plunge and opened her own Etsy shop.
Her shop features a variety of handmade jewelry pieces, each crafted with love and care. She uses high-quality materials and puts a piece of her heart into every item. From elegant earrings to charming bracelets and necklaces, there's something for everyone.
However, like many small business owners, she's struggling to get the word out and attract customers. It would mean the world to her (and to me) if you could take a moment to check out her shop. Even if you're not looking to buy right now, a favorite on her shop or sharing it with friends and family can make a huge difference.
Here's the link to her shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/Earthlybloom
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. Your support not only helps a small business owner but also encourages a wonderful woman who has put her all into her craft.
Wishing you all the best ❤️
submitted by SloppyNoggin to etsypromos [link] [comments]
I hope this message finds you well. I'm reaching out to this amazing community because I believe in the power of kindness and support that I've seen here so many times.
My mom has always been an incredibly creative and talented person. She has been making beautiful, unique jewelry for as long as I can remember. It was always her dream to share her creations with the world, and she finally took the plunge and opened her own Etsy shop.
Her shop features a variety of handmade jewelry pieces, each crafted with love and care. She uses high-quality materials and puts a piece of her heart into every item. From elegant earrings to charming bracelets and necklaces, there's something for everyone.
However, like many small business owners, she's struggling to get the word out and attract customers. It would mean the world to her (and to me) if you could take a moment to check out her shop. Even if you're not looking to buy right now, a favorite on her shop or sharing it with friends and family can make a huge difference.
Here's the link to her shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/Earthlybloom
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. Your support not only helps a small business owner but also encourages a wonderful woman who has put her all into her craft.
Wishing you all the best ❤️
2024.05.15 00:57 endofmyrope2024 Situation regarding my infp friend
Howdy 🤠
To start, my infp friend and I dated briefly and decided to be friends after my feelings went unreciprocated. I took some time apart to move on from my feelings and now I just see them as a friend.
Recently they’ve told me that they were briefly dating someone right after ending things with me and I had took my space. They said this person did not reciprocate their feelings and now my friend is extremely heart broken but not only that they told me they feel terrible because I guess they understand the pain I must’ve felt when they didn’t reciprocate my feelings and how they weren’t honest with their true feelings toward me, and other things that went down between us. Said they’ve been dissociated from their feelings for so long they haven’t really processed their feelings for like a year and is figuring out how they will be a good friend to me after everything.
I told them I forgave them and look forward to foraging new foundation for our friendship but they’ve been super distant and we’re supposed to go to an event together this weekend. I can tell they’re being extremely hard on themselves and I feel bad so I’m giving them space to process what they need to so I’m on the fence if I should still go to the event with them. I worry I’m gonna make them feel worse somehow ? I’ve already asked if they still wanted me to show up and they said they did but idk the vibes are off and think I should continue to give them space and not go to the event.
What yall think ? How can I support my friend?
submitted by endofmyrope2024 to infp [link] [comments]
To start, my infp friend and I dated briefly and decided to be friends after my feelings went unreciprocated. I took some time apart to move on from my feelings and now I just see them as a friend.
Recently they’ve told me that they were briefly dating someone right after ending things with me and I had took my space. They said this person did not reciprocate their feelings and now my friend is extremely heart broken but not only that they told me they feel terrible because I guess they understand the pain I must’ve felt when they didn’t reciprocate my feelings and how they weren’t honest with their true feelings toward me, and other things that went down between us. Said they’ve been dissociated from their feelings for so long they haven’t really processed their feelings for like a year and is figuring out how they will be a good friend to me after everything.
I told them I forgave them and look forward to foraging new foundation for our friendship but they’ve been super distant and we’re supposed to go to an event together this weekend. I can tell they’re being extremely hard on themselves and I feel bad so I’m giving them space to process what they need to so I’m on the fence if I should still go to the event with them. I worry I’m gonna make them feel worse somehow ? I’ve already asked if they still wanted me to show up and they said they did but idk the vibes are off and think I should continue to give them space and not go to the event.
What yall think ? How can I support my friend?
2024.05.15 00:57 redditnewbie6910 did i miss a patch note about advise feature?
 | i never had this before the new 100/120 system and the quick advise feature, so i dont know if its new or not, but i didnt read any notes about it, and nobody talked about it. so regardless if its new, how do we get this? like the pink hearted one is the right option, so it gives u the answer right there in game. but its not consistent, sometimes i get it for some characters, sometimes i dont, i havent found any pattern yet. does anybody know anything about this? submitted by redditnewbie6910 to NikkeMobile [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/zzukkv462h0d1.png?width=739&format=png&auto=webp&s=934a0adbcb82391f46b9efbff7f9871b1f4624f3 |
2024.05.15 00:49 BigFrasier The Most Unusual Dream I've Ever Had
I'll preface this by stating that, while I am someone deeply curious about the unexplained, those topics don't often make appearances in my dreams, let alone to this level of detail.
It was an unremarkable evening a few years ago. I can't recall any distress or commitments the next day that would've disrupted my sleep/dreams and I hadn't been drinking at all. I simply fell asleep at a normal hour like I would any other night.
The dream began with me asleep on the floor of a basement I'd never been in before. It looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't a perfect match to any basement I'd been in (asleep or otherwise). I woke up wrapped in a throw blanket an old flat pillow under my head. My back hurt and my eyes felt itchy. Even though I didn't have glasses on I could see perfectly well after rubbing my eyes.
The room was dark, except for a single, blue LED that I assumed was coming from a TV or a game console or something. All around me were other sleeping people that I assumed were friends of mine. They were all similarly laying on the floor but non of them moved or made any noise.
I glanced over to the stairs at the back of the room and my blood ran cold.
There was a strange figure, stocky and standing at about shoulder height, walking across the room. He was draped in what looked like a purple bedsheet with yellow patterns on it. His skin was a dull brown/green and his face seemed almost frog-like. He had front facing white eyes with no pupils and a long slit like mouth. A long, black beard hung down from his chin over his chest. He was wearing some kind of hat that curled backward behind his head in a nautilus shape. His arms and fingers were long and thin and protruded from his baggy sleeves.
His movements were unlike anything I'd seen in my life. It was almost like an animatronic or someone moving underwater. I couldn't see his feet so it looked like he was floating along the ground. His arms moved smoothly at his sides as he "walked". He turned his head to face me, and that's when I heard his voice.
"Can you see me?"
I didn't hear a voice say it. It was like the words were in my brain but I didn't put them there. I could tell they came from him. I nodded, I was a bit scared but I had this gut feeling that he wasn't dangerous. It kept me from full on panicking. In my head I thought of what I was going to say and was alarmed when he answered me in the same manner as before.
"Yes, I can." I said, "What are you doing down here?"
He just repeated, "You can see me?"
"Yes! I can see you. Is everything alright?"
There was a pause.
"Yes. Don't be afraid."
I stood up, and walked over my sleeping friends towards him. As I did I replied.
"I'm not, who are you?"
His answer still puzzles me years later.
"I am you, in a way. I control you. We are each other."
Immediately, this strange warmth rose in my stomach. I was overcome with this feeling of joy and friendship.
"So you control me? Like a video game?" I even mimed the action of holding a controller for him. He made a nervous laugh.
"Not exactly. In a way. Yes. Its hard to explain. I'd rather not. But yes. It's nice to see you. Controlling you. People, are how we experience. We live in you. We don't move around on our own."
Another pause came as I tried to figure out what to say next.
"I have to leave. It was nice seeing you. You won't see me again."
And with that he was gone. No flash of light, no fading out, he was there one second and gone the next.
From there I woke up in my bed. Nothing strange had happened. No missing time, no marks or changes in my life. I just moved on and now I occasionally think about it. I've still yet to see him again.
submitted by BigFrasier to HighStrangeness [link] [comments]
It was an unremarkable evening a few years ago. I can't recall any distress or commitments the next day that would've disrupted my sleep/dreams and I hadn't been drinking at all. I simply fell asleep at a normal hour like I would any other night.
The dream began with me asleep on the floor of a basement I'd never been in before. It looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't a perfect match to any basement I'd been in (asleep or otherwise). I woke up wrapped in a throw blanket an old flat pillow under my head. My back hurt and my eyes felt itchy. Even though I didn't have glasses on I could see perfectly well after rubbing my eyes.
The room was dark, except for a single, blue LED that I assumed was coming from a TV or a game console or something. All around me were other sleeping people that I assumed were friends of mine. They were all similarly laying on the floor but non of them moved or made any noise.
I glanced over to the stairs at the back of the room and my blood ran cold.
There was a strange figure, stocky and standing at about shoulder height, walking across the room. He was draped in what looked like a purple bedsheet with yellow patterns on it. His skin was a dull brown/green and his face seemed almost frog-like. He had front facing white eyes with no pupils and a long slit like mouth. A long, black beard hung down from his chin over his chest. He was wearing some kind of hat that curled backward behind his head in a nautilus shape. His arms and fingers were long and thin and protruded from his baggy sleeves.
His movements were unlike anything I'd seen in my life. It was almost like an animatronic or someone moving underwater. I couldn't see his feet so it looked like he was floating along the ground. His arms moved smoothly at his sides as he "walked". He turned his head to face me, and that's when I heard his voice.
"Can you see me?"
I didn't hear a voice say it. It was like the words were in my brain but I didn't put them there. I could tell they came from him. I nodded, I was a bit scared but I had this gut feeling that he wasn't dangerous. It kept me from full on panicking. In my head I thought of what I was going to say and was alarmed when he answered me in the same manner as before.
"Yes, I can." I said, "What are you doing down here?"
He just repeated, "You can see me?"
"Yes! I can see you. Is everything alright?"
There was a pause.
"Yes. Don't be afraid."
I stood up, and walked over my sleeping friends towards him. As I did I replied.
"I'm not, who are you?"
His answer still puzzles me years later.
"I am you, in a way. I control you. We are each other."
Immediately, this strange warmth rose in my stomach. I was overcome with this feeling of joy and friendship.
"So you control me? Like a video game?" I even mimed the action of holding a controller for him. He made a nervous laugh.
"Not exactly. In a way. Yes. Its hard to explain. I'd rather not. But yes. It's nice to see you. Controlling you. People, are how we experience. We live in you. We don't move around on our own."
Another pause came as I tried to figure out what to say next.
"I have to leave. It was nice seeing you. You won't see me again."
And with that he was gone. No flash of light, no fading out, he was there one second and gone the next.
From there I woke up in my bed. Nothing strange had happened. No missing time, no marks or changes in my life. I just moved on and now I occasionally think about it. I've still yet to see him again.
2024.05.15 00:44 shaneka69 LIBRA ZODIAC PREDICTIONS MAY 2024
LIBRA ZODIAC PREDICTIONS MAY 2024
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2024.05.15 00:35 idkwat2pick69 Why can't I [20M] find a girlfriend ?
Hi !back on reddit after 3 years. last time i was in high school and searching for help to cure loneliness and social anxiety. I'm better now. I remembered people were nice to me to i'm back :) .
This is not a super-sad post like i used to post about my loneliness. But something isn't working with girls. I'm at university, don't go out very often but i have friends,. I don't have a main friend groups but rather multiples friends (some are creally close one). if you people consider that post i'll be really grateful
I have girl-friends, and have good relationships with woman in general (saying that cuz I used to be affraid of their perception of me), discussions with them. However, whenever i meet a girl i really like get so uncomfy and completely unable to have normal interations. I'm 20 and feel like this is a "teen-age" social behavior. I'm kinda good looking, kinda funny and normal dude, used to be shy but not anymore.
So, to put context : my mother asked me if i was gay since i've never had a serious relation with a woman. I said no. (i don't take it as an an offence actually that was kinda funny to ask me that(i'm lying that was kinda an offence) )
But i litteraly can't have a girlfriend. When i meet a girl that I found good-looking i'm getting unatural. I know some girls find me cute (not being narcissic) but I CANT .This week i had 2 parties (post-exams parties) where i met a girl i found cute. I'm unable to talk normally. I told a dude that i liked that girl at the first party (good friend i trust him + i was drunk, he told me he'll help me out since he's a friend of her).. The next day i saw that girl at the second party. She looked at me multiples times. I think (maybe i'm crazy) it was the "come and talk to me i know what u said last day" eye contact.
This was also a problem sexually. Even if i've picked up girls in high school, i had my first sexual relationship only this year at 20, with a long-time friend, even if there's no real love feelings behind it and she live in another country. And i'd prefer beeing friend with her anyway even if she lived there.
Last week i saw couple's sending each other cute message and I litteraly cried. I need that cuddles, that deep connection, someone to think of all day, someone to share food, travels, laughs. Sex sucks when there's nothing behind it. Its like eating but not tasting anything. I feel like i'm missing the purpose of life. I mean... friendship is good, but my HEART tell me I need that.
I spoke to that to people and some told me i'm scared to be loved. I felt that but not sure if that's really the point. So I thought random people on a weird website could help me out. Yeah i don't really know why i'm writing that here, but if only 2-3 people could give their opinions it would be nice.
I'd be grateful to anybody answering that so you can be "brutal honest"
Have a nice one !
submitted by idkwat2pick69 to AskGirls [link] [comments]
This is not a super-sad post like i used to post about my loneliness. But something isn't working with girls. I'm at university, don't go out very often but i have friends,. I don't have a main friend groups but rather multiples friends (some are creally close one). if you people consider that post i'll be really grateful
I have girl-friends, and have good relationships with woman in general (saying that cuz I used to be affraid of their perception of me), discussions with them. However, whenever i meet a girl i really like get so uncomfy and completely unable to have normal interations. I'm 20 and feel like this is a "teen-age" social behavior. I'm kinda good looking, kinda funny and normal dude, used to be shy but not anymore.
So, to put context : my mother asked me if i was gay since i've never had a serious relation with a woman. I said no. (i don't take it as an an offence actually that was kinda funny to ask me that(i'm lying that was kinda an offence) )
But i litteraly can't have a girlfriend. When i meet a girl that I found good-looking i'm getting unatural. I know some girls find me cute (not being narcissic) but I CANT .This week i had 2 parties (post-exams parties) where i met a girl i found cute. I'm unable to talk normally. I told a dude that i liked that girl at the first party (good friend i trust him + i was drunk, he told me he'll help me out since he's a friend of her).. The next day i saw that girl at the second party. She looked at me multiples times. I think (maybe i'm crazy) it was the "come and talk to me i know what u said last day" eye contact.
This was also a problem sexually. Even if i've picked up girls in high school, i had my first sexual relationship only this year at 20, with a long-time friend, even if there's no real love feelings behind it and she live in another country. And i'd prefer beeing friend with her anyway even if she lived there.
Last week i saw couple's sending each other cute message and I litteraly cried. I need that cuddles, that deep connection, someone to think of all day, someone to share food, travels, laughs. Sex sucks when there's nothing behind it. Its like eating but not tasting anything. I feel like i'm missing the purpose of life. I mean... friendship is good, but my HEART tell me I need that.
I spoke to that to people and some told me i'm scared to be loved. I felt that but not sure if that's really the point. So I thought random people on a weird website could help me out. Yeah i don't really know why i'm writing that here, but if only 2-3 people could give their opinions it would be nice.
I'd be grateful to anybody answering that so you can be "brutal honest"
Have a nice one !
2024.05.15 00:32 businessnewstv How to Handle Customer Complaints in Your Cleaning Business in 2024
Understanding the importance of handling customer complaints
Understanding the importance of handling customer complaints is crucial for the success of any business. In the cleaning industry, where customer satisfaction is paramount, it becomes even more essential. Customer complaints provide valuable feedback and insights into areas that need improvement. By addressing and resolving complaints promptly and effectively, cleaning businesses can demonstrate their commitment to customer service and build trust and loyalty. This, in turn, can lead to positive word-of-mouth referrals and repeat business. Therefore, it is imperative for cleaning businesses to prioritize the handling of customer complaints as a key aspect of their operations.The impact of customer complaints on your cleaning business
Customer complaints can have a significant impact on the success and reputation of your cleaning business. It is crucial to understand the negative consequences that can arise from unresolved complaints. Firstly, customer complaints can damage your business's image and reputation. In today's digital age, dissatisfied customers can easily share their negative experiences on various online platforms, which can deter potential clients from choosing your services. Secondly, customer complaints can result in a loss of business. When customers are unhappy with the quality of your cleaning services, they are likely to terminate their contract and seek alternative options. This can lead to a decrease in revenue and a decline in customer loyalty. Lastly, customer complaints can hinder business growth and innovation. By addressing and resolving complaints effectively, you can identify areas for improvement and implement necessary changes to enhance customer satisfaction. This proactive approach can drive innovation and help your cleaning business stay ahead of the competition.Key principles for effectively handling customer complaints
When it comes to effectively handling customer complaints, there are key principles that every cleaning business should follow. One important principle is dealing with shame. It is crucial for businesses to acknowledge any mistakes or shortcomings and take responsibility for them. Instead of avoiding or ignoring customer complaints, businesses should address them head-on and seek to find a resolution. By demonstrating a willingness to learn from mistakes and improve, businesses can build trust and credibility with their customers. Dealing with shame also involves being empathetic towards the customer's feelings and concerns. By showing understanding and compassion, businesses can create a safe and supportive environment for customers to express their complaints. Overall, dealing with shame is a fundamental principle in effectively handling customer complaints and should be a priority for every cleaning business.Creating a Complaint Management System
Establishing a clear process for receiving and documenting complaints
To effectively handle customer complaints in your cleaning business, it is essential to establish a clear process for receiving and documenting these grievances. This process should be formal and systematic, ensuring that all complaints are addressed promptly and thoroughly. By implementing a structured approach, you can demonstrate your commitment to customer satisfaction and improve the overall quality of your services. To begin, designate a dedicated point of contact who will be responsible for receiving and managing customer complaints. This individual should possess excellent communication skills and the ability to remain calm and professional in challenging situations. Additionally, develop a standardized form or system for documenting complaints, including details such as the customer's name, contact information, nature of the complaint, and any actions taken to resolve the issue. This documentation will not only help you track and analyze patterns in customer feedback but also serve as a reference for future reference. Finally, establish clear timelines for addressing and resolving complaints, ensuring that each complaint is acknowledged and investigated promptly. By following these steps, you can establish a clear process for handling customer complaints and maintain a high level of customer satisfaction in your cleaning business.Training your staff on complaint handling procedures
Training your staff on complaint handling procedures is crucial for the success of your cleaning business. By providing comprehensive training, you can ensure that your employees are equipped with the necessary skills and knowledge to effectively address customer complaints. One important aspect of complaint handling is understanding how to communicate with customers, especially through email marketing. Email marketing allows you to reach out to customers directly and address their concerns in a timely manner. It is important to train your staff on the best practices of email marketing, including crafting professional and empathetic responses, personalizing the communication, and providing clear instructions on how to resolve the issue. By incorporating email marketing into your complaint handling procedures, you can enhance customer satisfaction and maintain a positive reputation for your cleaning business.Implementing a feedback mechanism for customers
Implementing a feedback mechanism for customers is crucial in the cleaning business industry. By providing a platform for customers to express their concerns and suggestions, cleaning businesses can gain valuable insights into their performance and identify areas for improvement. One effective way to implement a feedback mechanism is through the use of online surveys or feedback forms. These tools allow customers to easily provide feedback on their experience with the cleaning service, enabling businesses to address any issues promptly. Additionally, offering incentives such as discounts or rewards for completing the feedback process can encourage more customers to participate. By actively seeking and listening to customer feedback, cleaning businesses can enhance their services, build customer loyalty, and stay ahead of the competition.Active Listening and Empathy
The role of active listening in resolving customer complaints
Active listening plays a crucial role in resolving customer complaints in the cleaning business. By actively listening to customers, cleaning business owners and employees can gain a deeper understanding of their concerns and frustrations. This allows them to address the issues more effectively and provide appropriate solutions. Active listening involves giving full attention to the customer, maintaining eye contact, and avoiding interruptions. It also includes paraphrasing and summarizing the customer's concerns to ensure accurate understanding. By practicing active listening, cleaning businesses can enhance customer satisfaction and loyalty, ultimately leading to the success and growth of the business.Demonstrating empathy to understand customer concerns
Demonstrating empathy is a crucial skill when it comes to understanding and addressing customer concerns in the cleaning business. By putting ourselves in the shoes of the customer, we can gain a deeper understanding of their perspective and the impact that their concerns may have on their overall satisfaction. This involves actively listening to their complaints, acknowledging their emotions, and validating their experiences. By showing empathy, we can create a supportive and understanding environment that fosters trust and helps to resolve issues effectively. It is important to remember that demonstrating empathy is not just about saying the right things, but also about taking appropriate actions to address the customer's concerns and provide them with a satisfactory resolution. By doing so, we can not only retain our customers but also enhance our reputation as a reliable and customer-centric cleaning business.Using effective communication techniques to show empathy
Using effective communication techniques to show empathy is crucial when handling customer complaints in your cleaning business. By actively listening to the customer's concerns and validating their feelings, you can demonstrate that you understand their perspective. It is important to use appropriate language and tone to convey empathy and assure the customer that their complaint is being taken seriously. Additionally, offering solutions and taking prompt action to address the issue can further show your commitment to resolving the problem and satisfying the customer's needs.Resolving Complaints in a Timely Manner
Setting realistic response timeframes for complaint resolution
Setting realistic response timeframes for complaint resolution is crucial for the success and profitability of home security companies. By ensuring that customer complaints are addressed in a timely manner, companies can maintain customer satisfaction and loyalty. It is important to establish clear expectations with customers regarding the timeframe for complaint resolution, taking into account factors such as the complexity of the issue and available resources. By setting realistic response timeframes, home security companies can demonstrate their commitment to excellent customer service and enhance their reputation in the industry.Prioritizing urgent complaints to prevent escalation
To effectively handle customer complaints in your cleaning business, it is crucial to prioritize urgent complaints to prevent escalation. By promptly addressing and resolving these issues, you can demonstrate your commitment to customer satisfaction and maintain a positive reputation. Prioritizing urgent complaints involves identifying the severity of the issue, assessing the potential impact on the customer, and taking immediate action to address the problem. This proactive approach not only helps in resolving the customer's concerns but also prevents them from spreading negative feedback. By prioritizing urgent complaints, you can ensure that your cleaning business maintains a high level of customer service and fosters long-term relationships with your clients.Providing regular updates to customers during the resolution process
Providing regular updates to customers during the resolution process is crucial for maintaining customer satisfaction and trust. It shows that your cleaning business takes customer complaints seriously and is actively working towards a resolution. By keeping customers informed about the progress of their complaint, you demonstrate transparency and professionalism. This open communication also provides an opportunity to address any concerns or questions that customers may have, further enhancing their experience with your business. To ensure effective communication, consider using various channels such as email, phone calls, or even a dedicated customer portal. By providing regular updates, you not only keep customers informed but also show them that their feedback is valued and taken seriously by your cleaning business.Offering Fair and Reasonable Solutions
Assessing the validity of customer complaints objectively
Assessing the validity of customer complaints objectively is an essential step in managing customer feedback in any business. It allows companies to determine the accuracy and legitimacy of the complaints and take appropriate actions accordingly. In the cleaning business, this process becomes even more critical as customer satisfaction is crucial for maintaining a positive reputation and attracting new clients. When assessing customer complaints, it is important to consider various factors such as the nature of the complaint, the credibility of the customer, and any supporting evidence provided. By objectively evaluating customer complaints, cleaning businesses can identify areas for improvement, address customer concerns, and enhance their overall service quality.Providing appropriate compensation or remedies
When it comes to handling customer complaints in your cleaning business, providing appropriate compensation or remedies is crucial. As an entrepreneur, it is important to understand the value of customer satisfaction and the impact it can have on your business. When a customer expresses dissatisfaction with your cleaning services, it is essential to address their concerns promptly and effectively. Offering compensation or remedies demonstrates your commitment to resolving the issue and ensuring customer satisfaction. By doing so, you not only retain the customer but also enhance your reputation as a reliable and customer-centric cleaning business.Negotiating mutually beneficial solutions
Negotiating mutually beneficial solutions is a crucial aspect of handling customer complaints in your cleaning business. It involves finding a middle ground that satisfies both the customer's needs and the company's objectives. By approaching the negotiation process with a formal and professional tone, you can effectively address the customer's concerns and work towards a resolution that not only resolves the issue at hand but also strengthens the relationship with the customer. It is important to listen attentively to the customer's grievances, empathize with their perspective, and propose practical solutions that demonstrate your commitment to their satisfaction. Through open and transparent communication, you can foster trust and collaboration, ultimately reaching a mutually beneficial outcome that leaves both parties satisfied.Learning from Customer Complaints
Analyzing patterns and trends in customer complaints
Analyzing patterns and trends in customer complaints is a crucial aspect of managing a cleaning business. By carefully examining the feedback received from customers, businesses can identify common issues and recurring problems that need to be addressed. This analysis allows businesses to understand the root causes of customer dissatisfaction and develop effective strategies for improvement. Furthermore, by identifying patterns and trends, businesses can proactively implement preventive measures to minimize the occurrence of future complaints. The insights gained from this analysis can also help businesses make informed decisions regarding product or service enhancements, employee training, and customer communication. Overall, analyzing patterns and trends in customer complaints enables cleaning businesses to enhance their operations, maintain customer satisfaction, and ultimately foster long-term success.Identifying areas for improvement in your cleaning business
Identifying areas for improvement in your cleaning business is crucial for its long-term success. By understanding the specific aspects that need attention, you can enhance the quality of your services and exceed customer expectations. One effective way to identify these areas is by regularly assessing customer feedback and complaints. Analyzing customer complaints can provide valuable insights into the issues that customers are facing and help you pinpoint the root causes. Additionally, conducting internal audits and evaluations can help you identify any operational inefficiencies or gaps in your cleaning processes. By addressing these areas for improvement, you can ensure that your cleaning business continues to thrive and deliver exceptional service.Implementing changes based on customer feedback
Implementing changes based on customer feedback is crucial for the success of any business. In the cleaning industry, it is especially important to listen to and address customer complaints in order to maintain a high level of customer satisfaction. By actively seeking feedback and taking prompt action to resolve issues, cleaning businesses can improve their services and build a strong reputation. One area that can greatly benefit from customer feedback is marketing. Understanding the marketing impact on patient retention is essential for cleaning businesses to attract and retain customers. By analyzing customer feedback related to marketing strategies, businesses can identify areas for improvement and implement changes that will positively impact patient retention. This may include adjusting advertising campaigns, targeting specific customer segments, or improving the overall messaging and branding. By actively incorporating customer feedback into marketing strategies, cleaning businesses can enhance their ability to attract and retain customers, ultimately leading to long-term success.Conclusion
The importance of a customer-centric approach in handling complaints
A customer-centric approach is crucial when it comes to handling complaints in your cleaning business. By prioritizing the needs and concerns of your customers, you demonstrate your commitment to providing excellent service and ensuring customer satisfaction. Taking a customer-centric approach involves actively listening to their complaints, empathizing with their frustrations, and taking prompt and effective action to resolve their issues. This approach not only helps in resolving individual complaints but also builds trust and loyalty among your customer base. By putting the customer at the center of your complaint handling process, you show that their satisfaction and experience are your top priorities, which can significantly enhance your business reputation and success.Building customer loyalty through effective complaint resolution
Building customer loyalty through effective complaint resolution is essential for the success of any cleaning business. When customers have a complaint, it is an opportunity for the business to demonstrate their commitment to customer satisfaction. By addressing complaints promptly and professionally, the business can not only resolve the issue at hand but also build trust and loyalty with the customer. This can lead to repeat business and positive word-of-mouth recommendations. Implementing a structured complaint resolution process, training staff on effective communication and problem-solving skills, and monitoring customer feedback are key steps in building customer loyalty through effective complaint resolution.Continuous improvement for long-term business success
Continuous improvement is essential for long-term business success. In the cleaning industry, it is crucial to constantly strive for excellence in order to meet the evolving needs and expectations of customers. One area where continuous improvement can make a significant impact is in handling customer complaints. By actively seeking feedback and implementing necessary changes, cleaning businesses can enhance their customer service and satisfaction levels. This not only helps in retaining existing customers but also attracts new ones. Additionally, continuous improvement allows cleaning businesses to stay ahead of the competition and establish a strong reputation in the market. To achieve continuous improvement, cleaning businesses can explore various landscaping payment solutions that streamline the payment process and provide convenience to both the customers and the business. These solutions can include online payment platforms, mobile payment options, and automated invoicing systems. By adopting such solutions, cleaning businesses can improve their efficiency, accuracy, and overall customer experience.In conclusion, starting a cleaning business can be a lucrative venture. With the right knowledge and resources, you can easily get started today. If you want to learn more about how to start a cleaning business in 2023, check out our website for detailed information. Our website, titled 'How to Start A Cleaning Business 2023 [Detailed Information] #cleaningbusiness - YouTube', provides a wealth of information and resources to help you kickstart your cleaning business journey. Don't miss out on this opportunity, visit our website now!
2024.05.15 00:30 Temporary-Driver-772 Devil's Bargain Counter
Reflecting on 2021, truly marked the zenith of my young career. The pandemic was coming to an end, I was fresh from the hallowed halls of a prestigious but unheralded college, thrust into the corporate labyrinth where, as a mere sidekick to the big shots, I contributed to a deal of record-breaking magnitude. My modest corporate minion life was exaggerated into legend by my professors during an alumni reunion, leading to a rather embarrassing episode where I was paraded around as the poster child of their education career’s success. My parents, not ones to shy away from a bit of pomp, lauded my achievements to anyone within earshot.
But as 2022 unfurled its chaos with the epidemic, my professional life spiralled downwards as swiftly as it had risen. I was laid off, and replaced by a nepotistic hire—my boss's new mistress's nephew. During my dismal final days, my colleagues, once comrades became corporate sharks, whispers of them scheming to claim my last efforts as their own filled the empty office spaces.
Compelled by financial duress to abandon my central city dwelling, I relocated to the outskirts with two college mates, Jaz and Kath, who had similarly found themselves victims of the economic downturn. We settled into apartment 606, a unit with dubious charm, suspiciously affordable on the 13th floor of a dreary building, its corridor haunted by a flickering sensor light that was only designed to function on rare occasions. Yet, the apartment itself was surprisingly very well furnished, almost like something that jumped out from a design mag, out beating sample rooms in Ikea, boasting a spacious balcony, a living room ready for an impromptu soirée, a dining table that’s good enough to hold a banquet(became our co-working space) and a kitchen isle that became our sanctuary and curse.
When we first settled into our new abode, we discovered a trove of fine kitchen utensils, perfect for whipping up sophisticated cuisine and crafting cocktails worthy of a swanky soirée. Tucked away in the fridge, among the remnants of the previous tenants' life, was a quaint note: “The three of us really enjoyed our stay here, especially our meals and nights spent by the kitchen island. We hope you find as much joy in it as we did. Use it well.” With a casual flick of my wrist, I dismissed the note into the garbage can, oblivious to the depth of its seemingly innocuous message. Little did I know, that piece of paper was more a passing of the torch than a simple goodbye.
Our initial days in apartment 606 brimmed with camaraderie and impromptu celebrations: movie nights sprawled on the living room sofas, barbeque dinners under the stars on our balcony, and co-working sessions at the dining table, peppered with resume tweaks and contemplative conversations over cocktails. We even scored a second-hand karaoke machine, allowing me to channel my inner diva—a throwback to my musical theatre days in college and my stint as the voice of corporate presentations and negotiations at my previous job, where I was known for my resonant yet finely tuned voice.
Yet, as the months wore on and the job market remained unyielding, our early merriment slowly surrendered to a creeping anxiety. The kitchen island, once the heart of our home where laughter and shared meals flowed freely, gradually morphed into the epicenter of our collective unease, bearing silent witness to the quiet desperation settling over us.
One evening, in the suspiciously affordable yet stylish apartment, I sank into the sofa, my spirits dampened by my favorite team's disheartening loss. The mood was grim, mirroring my fears of my beloved player's potential retirement at season's end. Later, as we congregated around the kitchen island for dinner, I transformed into an impromptu sports commentator, passionately preaching about the game’s disappointing details that led to failure and my favorite player’s fine qualities. Meanwhile, Jaz updated us on a friend's melodramatic breakup, with guesses that something ugly must have happened behind the scenes. Kath, ever the culinary enthusiast, not only served up her delicious pasta but also dished out the latest celebrity gossip, each tidbit as spicy as her sauce.
The next day, during a late breakfast at the same kitchen island—our unwitting oracle—we were hit by a triple whammy of reality checks. The news of my favorite player's retirement broke, echoing my gloomy predictions from the night before. Jaz chimed in with an update that our friend had uncovered a cheating scandal worthy of its own reality TV special. And Kath, never one to be left out of the drama: her favorite celebrity was now the star of a scandal.
By the third morning, as we sipped our coffee, the newspaper slapped me with another bizarre twist. I was going through the devastating economics and politics sections, then I saw the sports section——featured an irate coach, hell-bent on convincing my favorite player to dismiss retirement plans and keep his jersey on a little longer. Meanwhile, Jaz had good news for a change: it turned out our friend's love story might have a second act after all, as misunderstandings were being cleared up. Amidst these revelations, Kath, who had been grumbling about the nearby supermarket’s inability to stock anything remotely gourmet, and hadn’t had a taste of her favorite Blue Mountain coffee since the beginning of that year, triumphantly found a can of Blue Mountain coffee, and it was on sale and therefore affordable—proof that miracles happen, and sometimes they even go on discount.
As I sat there, absorbing the serendipity of our discussions manifesting into real-world events, I couldn't help but marvel at the mysterious knack of our kitchen island. Was it merely a coincidence, or had this stylish piece of decor become the unlikely conductor of our lives symphony? One thing was certain: life in apartment 606 was never dull, and our kitchen island seemed to be more than just a place to eat—it was a place where, apparently, you could stir the pot of fate.
I decided to conduct a whimsical experiment with our now seemingly magical kitchen island. Clearing my throat theatrically, I declared, "I should be interviewed for a director position." To my sheer astonishment, the next day a headhunter rang me up, claiming I was the ideal candidate for a directorial role at a prestigious corporation in my field. Despite the other candidates possessing decades more experience which defeated me with no effort, and my own lingering self-doubt from months of unemployment, I sailed to the final interview round with the company's executives.
Upon returning to our apartment, I found Kath flaunting a chic dress from a designer brand brand she’d snagged on clearance—a little luxury courtesy of our wish-granting island. Inspired, I approached the island and cheekily requested, "Get us jobs. Something fun." Lo and behold, the following day was spent lounging and binge-watching Netflix, only to be interrupted by a call from a former bigwig at my old job. He was venturing into a more illustrious company and wanted me onboard. The informal chat that followed was a breeze, and just like that, I was back in the game with a fancier title and a fatter paycheck.
The subsequent week was a flurry of celebrations. Jaz secured a senior-level position, and Kath landed her dream job at an influencer management agency. Feeling triumphant, we decided to indulge in a night of fine dining—our first in months. That Friday evening when I went from office to restaurant, on a whim, stopped at a convenience store to grab snacks and cigarettes for our post-dinner revelry. Outside, I encountered a homeless person. After offering him a sandwich (which he traded for a cigarette instead), he took a drag, peered into my eyes, and ominously muttered, “Look, young lady, this isn’t my business, but be wary of what you wish for; everything comes with a price. Good luck and god bless you.”
His words barely registered until later that evening when a mishap occurred that seemed to underline his warning. As we enjoyed syphon coffee post-dinner, a barista accidentally tripped over Kath’s flowing dress. The resulting spill left her with first-degree burns, abruptly ending our night as we rushed to the emergency room. Though it was "just" a first-degree burn, the pain was significant enough to require several days off for Kath’s recovery. Amid the drama, I couldn't help but wonder about the cryptic caution from the man outside the store—had our fortunate streak come with a hidden cost?
We chalked up the coffee calamity to bad luck. The next month flowed smoothly: Kath's fingers healed, she returned to work, and I quickly found my groove at the new job. With all of us gainfully employed, our communal meals at the kitchen island became rare. My mornings were a whirlwind of grabbing breakfast and coffee on the go, followed by an hour's commute to a job that had me scarfing down instant noodles by nightfall, just in time for a quick shower.
As the busy season kicked in, my workload ballooned—not just from the seasonal uptick, but because I was hell-bent on proving my mettle. I quickly outshone most of my peers, and my employer, recognizing a budding overachiever, piled on major tasks, which I eagerly accepted. What started as the occasional hour of overtime soon devoured my weekends. Unpaid overtime, as the fine print in my contract gleefully noted, became my new norm. Driven by a mix of ambition and expectation, I had become the go-to young hotshot, the erstwhile record-breaker now expected to continually outdo myself.
Mentally, I was too swamped to entertain thoughts of anything beyond work, which, in a twisted way, felt like a break. Physically, however, the strain began to show. A bout of flu caught on a business trip escalated into a fever. Sick as I was, deadlines waited for no one, and I soldiered on medicated and miserable. By the time I made it home, my voice had abandoned me. Unable to utter a word the next morning, I resorted to emailing my manager about my sorry state.
That week, robbed of my voice, I mused that it was perhaps a well-deserved hiatus for my overworked vocal cords—a silent retreat if you will. But when my voice did return, it was as a raspy whisper, a shadow of its former crisp and melodious timbre. My doctor offered a grim prognosis: slight improvement might come, but the golden tones were gone for good—scarred by the relentless grind. Ah, the price of ambition—a scratchy throat as a permanent reminder of my corporate conquests.
It seemed I had unwittingly exchanged the clarity of my voice for the tumult of career success. In the midst of our domestic enchantment with the possibly mystical kitchen island, Kath unearthed the contact of a reputed psychic, hailed as the finest in the land. However, the consultation fee was nothing short of princely, and with Jaz vehemently dismissing anything that couldn't be explained by cold, hard science, she promptly opted out of splitting the bill. Kath and I, unwilling to drain our wallets on what could be mere phantasmagoria, reluctantly let the opportunity pass.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice a curious change in Jaz’s routine. She had ceased dining at the kitchen island, avoiding it as if it were cursed—or perhaps, in her view, simply out of style. The Saturday morning brought a particularly harsh twist: a murder of crows took to spiralling above our balcony, their cries as sharp as the plot of a Poe novel. We found ourselves drawn to the infamous kitchen island, lined up like the cast of a macabre play, silently praying for the birds to disperse. Kath, ever trying to restore some semblance of normalcy, offered up cups of Blue Mountain coffee. She absentmindedly inquired if I wanted cream or sugar in mine—a blunder that made me realize just how long it had been since our last coffee klatch at this very spot. My inner monologue couldn't resist a dark wish for the crows to scatter, perhaps too dark, for they began to dive bomb our balcony in a feathery kamikaze. The spectacle was enough to knock Jaz off her feet—literally—as her mug met its end on the floor. Kath, meanwhile, made a hasty retreat to worship the porcelain god, and I sat frozen, my brain offline, pondering the twisted power of our kitchen island's apparent wish-granting.
After the unnerving spectacle of crows turning our balcony into a scene straight out of a Hitchcock film, our first rational step—post-collective fainting, of course—was to summon cleaners to manage the feathery carnage. Then, still rattled but increasingly curious, we visited a psychic, who, contrary to the crystal-ball-gazer image, operated out of a posh boutique in a high-end mall and dressed more like she was headed to a fashion show than a séance. We laid bare our saga of the seemingly cursed kitchen island, complete with photographic evidence of where domestic bliss meets eerie phenomena.
The psychic introduced a term that chilled the air around us: “limbo,” the threshold between our world and the otherworldly, and she dubbed our kitchen island the "Devil’s Bargain Counter." According to her, our wishes came with a heavy and unpredictable price, because we have accidentally started trades with beings from the netherworld. Her advice was disarmingly simple: cease all trades on the island. To address the repercussions of past wishes, she advised us the first line of defence, which was an eclectic mix of offerings laid out on our cursed countertop: raw meat(rooster works the best), a cocktail of spices(coca and cinnamon preferably), liberal splashes of spirits(whiskey and rum ideally), and an eerie bouquet of black flowers(luckily I found some black roses at a flower shop of the mall). In a grander gesture of appeasement, Kath relinquished her shiny new diamond bracelet, Jaz her absurdly expensive headphones, and I parted with cash—— a hefty slice of my bonus in hopes of placating whatever capricious spirits we'd angered.
Our return to normalcy was brief but sweet, prompting us to plan a getaway, eager to forget about our nefarious kitchen island. Yet, the respite was merely a tease. Jaz, in a stroke of spectacular misfortune, narrowly dodged disaster twice in one day—first nearly becoming subway track fodder on her way back after work, and then almost getting knocked out by a rogue plant at our apartment building’s doorstep. Clearly, our previous offerings were mere appetizers to whatever forces we'd stirred. The psychic, summoned once again to our now-dubious sanctuary, decreed that the spirits had developed rather expensive tastes, unsatisfied by our initial gestures.
In a desperate bid for closure, we had the psychic over for a nighttime ritual, timed perfectly with Earth's closest approach to the netherworld, according to her. Our living room turned into a ritual chamber, with windows blacked out for days, to keep the otherworldly dealings strictly nocturnal. That night, we arranged ourselves around the island, now less a kitchen fixture and more an altar of last resort.
The psychic, amidst a chorus of Latin incantations, directed us through a chilling séance that included a mirror that reflected nothing but darkness and a burning black candle, the three of us sat in a row, joined hands, eyes closed. When the black candle was flickering at its last, the first eerie scratches heard prompted our eyes to open prematurely, we saw a command appear on the island, written by invisible hand and pen, in blood-red script, urging us to find the next "succeeder" before our lease on otherworldly disturbances could be terminated.
With bated breath, we agreed, and as if by magic, our signatures materialized on the countertop, then faded as the candle sputtered out. We tore off the black cardboard taped on the windows at dawn, the sunrise revealed a final message etched into the surface: "Debt cleared." As the daylight grew, the ominous inscription dissolved into nothingness, signalling the end of our spectral saga.
The ordeal, now officially behind us, left us enjoying a semblance of normalcy: life in 606 returned to its mundane rhythm, with dinners and movie nights back on our social calendar. Though not without its scars—literal and figurative.
It’s been two years since then, Jaz, in the throes of romantic bliss, is now gearing up for a new chapter waiting to be written alongside her soon-to-be spouse; Kath, her career finally taking a lucrative turn, was poised to upgrade her living situation, she secured a lease on a lavish serviced apartment in the city center—a place that matched her newfound financial swagger.
I’m not without my own leaps forward. With a modest boost from my parents, I took the plunge into homeownership, snagging a property within the city’s vibrant confines. The process was a whirlwind of paperwork and decorating decisions, culminating in a space I could truly call my own.
As we are packing up now, my last act is to type out our story, at the infamous island, and of course, I left a note in the fridge for the next tenants:
"Welcome to 606. We had a wonderful time here, especially at the kitchen island, filled with joy and unforgettable moments. We hope you find as much happiness as we did. Use the isle well. Warm wishes, the previous tenants."
submitted by Temporary-Driver-772 to creepypasta [link] [comments]
But as 2022 unfurled its chaos with the epidemic, my professional life spiralled downwards as swiftly as it had risen. I was laid off, and replaced by a nepotistic hire—my boss's new mistress's nephew. During my dismal final days, my colleagues, once comrades became corporate sharks, whispers of them scheming to claim my last efforts as their own filled the empty office spaces.
Compelled by financial duress to abandon my central city dwelling, I relocated to the outskirts with two college mates, Jaz and Kath, who had similarly found themselves victims of the economic downturn. We settled into apartment 606, a unit with dubious charm, suspiciously affordable on the 13th floor of a dreary building, its corridor haunted by a flickering sensor light that was only designed to function on rare occasions. Yet, the apartment itself was surprisingly very well furnished, almost like something that jumped out from a design mag, out beating sample rooms in Ikea, boasting a spacious balcony, a living room ready for an impromptu soirée, a dining table that’s good enough to hold a banquet(became our co-working space) and a kitchen isle that became our sanctuary and curse.
When we first settled into our new abode, we discovered a trove of fine kitchen utensils, perfect for whipping up sophisticated cuisine and crafting cocktails worthy of a swanky soirée. Tucked away in the fridge, among the remnants of the previous tenants' life, was a quaint note: “The three of us really enjoyed our stay here, especially our meals and nights spent by the kitchen island. We hope you find as much joy in it as we did. Use it well.” With a casual flick of my wrist, I dismissed the note into the garbage can, oblivious to the depth of its seemingly innocuous message. Little did I know, that piece of paper was more a passing of the torch than a simple goodbye.
Our initial days in apartment 606 brimmed with camaraderie and impromptu celebrations: movie nights sprawled on the living room sofas, barbeque dinners under the stars on our balcony, and co-working sessions at the dining table, peppered with resume tweaks and contemplative conversations over cocktails. We even scored a second-hand karaoke machine, allowing me to channel my inner diva—a throwback to my musical theatre days in college and my stint as the voice of corporate presentations and negotiations at my previous job, where I was known for my resonant yet finely tuned voice.
Yet, as the months wore on and the job market remained unyielding, our early merriment slowly surrendered to a creeping anxiety. The kitchen island, once the heart of our home where laughter and shared meals flowed freely, gradually morphed into the epicenter of our collective unease, bearing silent witness to the quiet desperation settling over us.
One evening, in the suspiciously affordable yet stylish apartment, I sank into the sofa, my spirits dampened by my favorite team's disheartening loss. The mood was grim, mirroring my fears of my beloved player's potential retirement at season's end. Later, as we congregated around the kitchen island for dinner, I transformed into an impromptu sports commentator, passionately preaching about the game’s disappointing details that led to failure and my favorite player’s fine qualities. Meanwhile, Jaz updated us on a friend's melodramatic breakup, with guesses that something ugly must have happened behind the scenes. Kath, ever the culinary enthusiast, not only served up her delicious pasta but also dished out the latest celebrity gossip, each tidbit as spicy as her sauce.
The next day, during a late breakfast at the same kitchen island—our unwitting oracle—we were hit by a triple whammy of reality checks. The news of my favorite player's retirement broke, echoing my gloomy predictions from the night before. Jaz chimed in with an update that our friend had uncovered a cheating scandal worthy of its own reality TV special. And Kath, never one to be left out of the drama: her favorite celebrity was now the star of a scandal.
By the third morning, as we sipped our coffee, the newspaper slapped me with another bizarre twist. I was going through the devastating economics and politics sections, then I saw the sports section——featured an irate coach, hell-bent on convincing my favorite player to dismiss retirement plans and keep his jersey on a little longer. Meanwhile, Jaz had good news for a change: it turned out our friend's love story might have a second act after all, as misunderstandings were being cleared up. Amidst these revelations, Kath, who had been grumbling about the nearby supermarket’s inability to stock anything remotely gourmet, and hadn’t had a taste of her favorite Blue Mountain coffee since the beginning of that year, triumphantly found a can of Blue Mountain coffee, and it was on sale and therefore affordable—proof that miracles happen, and sometimes they even go on discount.
As I sat there, absorbing the serendipity of our discussions manifesting into real-world events, I couldn't help but marvel at the mysterious knack of our kitchen island. Was it merely a coincidence, or had this stylish piece of decor become the unlikely conductor of our lives symphony? One thing was certain: life in apartment 606 was never dull, and our kitchen island seemed to be more than just a place to eat—it was a place where, apparently, you could stir the pot of fate.
I decided to conduct a whimsical experiment with our now seemingly magical kitchen island. Clearing my throat theatrically, I declared, "I should be interviewed for a director position." To my sheer astonishment, the next day a headhunter rang me up, claiming I was the ideal candidate for a directorial role at a prestigious corporation in my field. Despite the other candidates possessing decades more experience which defeated me with no effort, and my own lingering self-doubt from months of unemployment, I sailed to the final interview round with the company's executives.
Upon returning to our apartment, I found Kath flaunting a chic dress from a designer brand brand she’d snagged on clearance—a little luxury courtesy of our wish-granting island. Inspired, I approached the island and cheekily requested, "Get us jobs. Something fun." Lo and behold, the following day was spent lounging and binge-watching Netflix, only to be interrupted by a call from a former bigwig at my old job. He was venturing into a more illustrious company and wanted me onboard. The informal chat that followed was a breeze, and just like that, I was back in the game with a fancier title and a fatter paycheck.
The subsequent week was a flurry of celebrations. Jaz secured a senior-level position, and Kath landed her dream job at an influencer management agency. Feeling triumphant, we decided to indulge in a night of fine dining—our first in months. That Friday evening when I went from office to restaurant, on a whim, stopped at a convenience store to grab snacks and cigarettes for our post-dinner revelry. Outside, I encountered a homeless person. After offering him a sandwich (which he traded for a cigarette instead), he took a drag, peered into my eyes, and ominously muttered, “Look, young lady, this isn’t my business, but be wary of what you wish for; everything comes with a price. Good luck and god bless you.”
His words barely registered until later that evening when a mishap occurred that seemed to underline his warning. As we enjoyed syphon coffee post-dinner, a barista accidentally tripped over Kath’s flowing dress. The resulting spill left her with first-degree burns, abruptly ending our night as we rushed to the emergency room. Though it was "just" a first-degree burn, the pain was significant enough to require several days off for Kath’s recovery. Amid the drama, I couldn't help but wonder about the cryptic caution from the man outside the store—had our fortunate streak come with a hidden cost?
We chalked up the coffee calamity to bad luck. The next month flowed smoothly: Kath's fingers healed, she returned to work, and I quickly found my groove at the new job. With all of us gainfully employed, our communal meals at the kitchen island became rare. My mornings were a whirlwind of grabbing breakfast and coffee on the go, followed by an hour's commute to a job that had me scarfing down instant noodles by nightfall, just in time for a quick shower.
As the busy season kicked in, my workload ballooned—not just from the seasonal uptick, but because I was hell-bent on proving my mettle. I quickly outshone most of my peers, and my employer, recognizing a budding overachiever, piled on major tasks, which I eagerly accepted. What started as the occasional hour of overtime soon devoured my weekends. Unpaid overtime, as the fine print in my contract gleefully noted, became my new norm. Driven by a mix of ambition and expectation, I had become the go-to young hotshot, the erstwhile record-breaker now expected to continually outdo myself.
Mentally, I was too swamped to entertain thoughts of anything beyond work, which, in a twisted way, felt like a break. Physically, however, the strain began to show. A bout of flu caught on a business trip escalated into a fever. Sick as I was, deadlines waited for no one, and I soldiered on medicated and miserable. By the time I made it home, my voice had abandoned me. Unable to utter a word the next morning, I resorted to emailing my manager about my sorry state.
That week, robbed of my voice, I mused that it was perhaps a well-deserved hiatus for my overworked vocal cords—a silent retreat if you will. But when my voice did return, it was as a raspy whisper, a shadow of its former crisp and melodious timbre. My doctor offered a grim prognosis: slight improvement might come, but the golden tones were gone for good—scarred by the relentless grind. Ah, the price of ambition—a scratchy throat as a permanent reminder of my corporate conquests.
It seemed I had unwittingly exchanged the clarity of my voice for the tumult of career success. In the midst of our domestic enchantment with the possibly mystical kitchen island, Kath unearthed the contact of a reputed psychic, hailed as the finest in the land. However, the consultation fee was nothing short of princely, and with Jaz vehemently dismissing anything that couldn't be explained by cold, hard science, she promptly opted out of splitting the bill. Kath and I, unwilling to drain our wallets on what could be mere phantasmagoria, reluctantly let the opportunity pass.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice a curious change in Jaz’s routine. She had ceased dining at the kitchen island, avoiding it as if it were cursed—or perhaps, in her view, simply out of style. The Saturday morning brought a particularly harsh twist: a murder of crows took to spiralling above our balcony, their cries as sharp as the plot of a Poe novel. We found ourselves drawn to the infamous kitchen island, lined up like the cast of a macabre play, silently praying for the birds to disperse. Kath, ever trying to restore some semblance of normalcy, offered up cups of Blue Mountain coffee. She absentmindedly inquired if I wanted cream or sugar in mine—a blunder that made me realize just how long it had been since our last coffee klatch at this very spot. My inner monologue couldn't resist a dark wish for the crows to scatter, perhaps too dark, for they began to dive bomb our balcony in a feathery kamikaze. The spectacle was enough to knock Jaz off her feet—literally—as her mug met its end on the floor. Kath, meanwhile, made a hasty retreat to worship the porcelain god, and I sat frozen, my brain offline, pondering the twisted power of our kitchen island's apparent wish-granting.
After the unnerving spectacle of crows turning our balcony into a scene straight out of a Hitchcock film, our first rational step—post-collective fainting, of course—was to summon cleaners to manage the feathery carnage. Then, still rattled but increasingly curious, we visited a psychic, who, contrary to the crystal-ball-gazer image, operated out of a posh boutique in a high-end mall and dressed more like she was headed to a fashion show than a séance. We laid bare our saga of the seemingly cursed kitchen island, complete with photographic evidence of where domestic bliss meets eerie phenomena.
The psychic introduced a term that chilled the air around us: “limbo,” the threshold between our world and the otherworldly, and she dubbed our kitchen island the "Devil’s Bargain Counter." According to her, our wishes came with a heavy and unpredictable price, because we have accidentally started trades with beings from the netherworld. Her advice was disarmingly simple: cease all trades on the island. To address the repercussions of past wishes, she advised us the first line of defence, which was an eclectic mix of offerings laid out on our cursed countertop: raw meat(rooster works the best), a cocktail of spices(coca and cinnamon preferably), liberal splashes of spirits(whiskey and rum ideally), and an eerie bouquet of black flowers(luckily I found some black roses at a flower shop of the mall). In a grander gesture of appeasement, Kath relinquished her shiny new diamond bracelet, Jaz her absurdly expensive headphones, and I parted with cash—— a hefty slice of my bonus in hopes of placating whatever capricious spirits we'd angered.
Our return to normalcy was brief but sweet, prompting us to plan a getaway, eager to forget about our nefarious kitchen island. Yet, the respite was merely a tease. Jaz, in a stroke of spectacular misfortune, narrowly dodged disaster twice in one day—first nearly becoming subway track fodder on her way back after work, and then almost getting knocked out by a rogue plant at our apartment building’s doorstep. Clearly, our previous offerings were mere appetizers to whatever forces we'd stirred. The psychic, summoned once again to our now-dubious sanctuary, decreed that the spirits had developed rather expensive tastes, unsatisfied by our initial gestures.
In a desperate bid for closure, we had the psychic over for a nighttime ritual, timed perfectly with Earth's closest approach to the netherworld, according to her. Our living room turned into a ritual chamber, with windows blacked out for days, to keep the otherworldly dealings strictly nocturnal. That night, we arranged ourselves around the island, now less a kitchen fixture and more an altar of last resort.
The psychic, amidst a chorus of Latin incantations, directed us through a chilling séance that included a mirror that reflected nothing but darkness and a burning black candle, the three of us sat in a row, joined hands, eyes closed. When the black candle was flickering at its last, the first eerie scratches heard prompted our eyes to open prematurely, we saw a command appear on the island, written by invisible hand and pen, in blood-red script, urging us to find the next "succeeder" before our lease on otherworldly disturbances could be terminated.
With bated breath, we agreed, and as if by magic, our signatures materialized on the countertop, then faded as the candle sputtered out. We tore off the black cardboard taped on the windows at dawn, the sunrise revealed a final message etched into the surface: "Debt cleared." As the daylight grew, the ominous inscription dissolved into nothingness, signalling the end of our spectral saga.
The ordeal, now officially behind us, left us enjoying a semblance of normalcy: life in 606 returned to its mundane rhythm, with dinners and movie nights back on our social calendar. Though not without its scars—literal and figurative.
It’s been two years since then, Jaz, in the throes of romantic bliss, is now gearing up for a new chapter waiting to be written alongside her soon-to-be spouse; Kath, her career finally taking a lucrative turn, was poised to upgrade her living situation, she secured a lease on a lavish serviced apartment in the city center—a place that matched her newfound financial swagger.
I’m not without my own leaps forward. With a modest boost from my parents, I took the plunge into homeownership, snagging a property within the city’s vibrant confines. The process was a whirlwind of paperwork and decorating decisions, culminating in a space I could truly call my own.
As we are packing up now, my last act is to type out our story, at the infamous island, and of course, I left a note in the fridge for the next tenants:
"Welcome to 606. We had a wonderful time here, especially at the kitchen island, filled with joy and unforgettable moments. We hope you find as much happiness as we did. Use the isle well. Warm wishes, the previous tenants."
2024.05.15 00:29 businessnewstv FAQ: How to Validate the Quality of Pet Products Sold Online
Importance of validating the quality of pet products
Validating the quality of pet products is of utmost importance when purchasing them online. It ensures that the products meet the necessary standards and are safe for our beloved pets. One key aspect of this validation process is establishing better communication with the sellers and manufacturers. By maintaining open lines of communication, pet owners can address any concerns or questions they may have about the product. This not only helps in making informed decisions but also allows for a seamless exchange of information between the buyer and the seller. Therefore, better communication plays a vital role in ensuring the quality and safety of pet products.Common challenges in validating pet products online
When it comes to validating pet products online, there are several common challenges that pet owners face. One of the main challenges is the overwhelming amount of options available. With so many different brands and types of pet products being sold online, it can be difficult to determine which ones are of high quality. Another challenge is the lack of physical interaction with the product. Unlike buying from a physical store, pet owners cannot touch or inspect the product before purchasing it online. This makes it important to rely on other indicators of quality, such as customer reviews and ratings. Additionally, pet owners may also face challenges in verifying the accuracy of product descriptions and claims made by sellers. Some sellers may use misleading language or exaggerated claims in their advertisements. Therefore, it is crucial for pet owners to do thorough research and consider multiple sources of information before making a purchase.Benefits of purchasing high-quality pet products
When it comes to purchasing pet products online, there are numerous benefits to choosing high-quality options. Firstly, high-quality pet products are designed with the well-being of your furry friend in mind. They are made from safe and durable materials, ensuring that they will not harm your pet or break easily. Additionally, high-quality pet products are often more effective in meeting your pet's needs. Whether it's a nutritious diet, comfortable bedding, or engaging toys, investing in high-quality products ensures that your pet receives the best care possible. Lastly, purchasing high-quality pet products can save you money in the long run. While they may have a higher upfront cost, these products are often more durable and long-lasting, reducing the need for frequent replacements. Overall, opting for high-quality pet products is a worthwhile investment that benefits both you and your beloved pet.Understanding Product Labels
Decoding pet product labels
When it comes to decoding pet product labels, it is important to understand the information provided and make informed decisions for your furry friends. Pet product labels can be filled with complex terminology and misleading claims, making it crucial for pet owners to be aware of what they are purchasing. By carefully reading and interpreting pet product labels, you can ensure the quality and safety of the products you choose for your pets. Additionally, if you have any questions or concerns about a specific pet product, it is always recommended to reach out to the manufacturer or consult with your veterinarian for further guidance. Inspiring action through email is a powerful tool that can be used to advocate for better pet product labeling standards and transparency in the industry. By contacting pet product companies and expressing your concerns, you can help drive positive change and ensure that pet owners have access to accurate and reliable information about the products they buy.Identifying key information on labels
When it comes to identifying key information on labels, it is important to ensure that the quality of pet products sold online is validated. This is crucial for pet owners who want to make informed decisions about the products they purchase for their beloved pets. By carefully examining the labels, pet owners can gather essential information about the ingredients, nutritional value, and potential allergens present in the products. This helps in determining whether the product is suitable for their pet's specific needs. Additionally, labels also provide information about the manufacturer, certifications, and any additional instructions or warnings. By paying close attention to these details, pet owners can ensure that they are purchasing high-quality and safe pet products online.Evaluating the credibility of product claims
When it comes to evaluating the credibility of product claims, it is important to consider various factors. One such factor is the Canva 2023 guide. This comprehensive guide provides valuable insights and information on how to validate the quality of pet products sold online. By following the guidelines outlined in the Canva 2023 guide, pet owners can ensure that they are making informed decisions when purchasing pet products. The guide highlights key aspects to look for, such as product certifications, customer reviews, and ingredient transparency. By utilizing the Canva 2023 guide, pet owners can have peace of mind knowing that they are purchasing high-quality and reliable pet products.Researching Brands and Manufacturers
Finding reputable pet product brands
When it comes to finding reputable pet product brands, there are several factors to consider. One important aspect is to look for brands that have a strong reputation in the pet industry. This can be determined by researching customer reviews and feedback, as well as checking if the brand is recommended by veterinarians or pet professionals. Additionally, it is crucial to consider the ingredients and manufacturing processes used by the brand. High-quality pet products should contain safe and nutritious ingredients, and be manufactured in facilities that adhere to strict quality control standards. Lastly, it is advisable to choose brands that have a transparent and responsive customer service, as this indicates their commitment to customer satisfaction. By considering these factors, pet owners can ensure that they are purchasing pet products from reputable brands that prioritize the health and well-being of their furry friends.Investigating manufacturer's reputation
When it comes to purchasing pet products online, it is crucial to investigate the manufacturer's reputation. This step is essential in ensuring the quality and safety of the products being sold. By researching the manufacturer's background, customer reviews, and any certifications they may have, pet owners can make informed decisions about the products they choose for their beloved pets. Taking the time to investigate the manufacturer's reputation can help avoid potential risks and ensure that only high-quality pet products are purchased online.Checking for certifications and accreditations
When it comes to checking for certifications and accreditations, it is essential to ensure the quality and safety of pet products sold online. Certifications and accreditations serve as indicators that the products have met certain standards and regulations set by reputable organizations. These certifications and accreditations provide reassurance to pet owners that the products they purchase are reliable and trustworthy. By verifying the presence of certifications and accreditations, pet owners can have peace of mind knowing that the products they choose have undergone rigorous testing and adhere to industry best practices. This not only safeguards the health and well-being of pets but also contributes to workplace productivity.Reading Customer Reviews
Importance of customer reviews
Customer reviews play a crucial role in the decision-making process when it comes to purchasing pet products online. They provide valuable insights into the quality, reliability, and effectiveness of the products. By reading reviews from other pet owners, potential buyers can gain a better understanding of the product's performance and suitability for their pets. This is particularly important when it comes to garden supplies, as the quality of these products can directly impact the health and well-being of pets. Therefore, it is essential for online shoppers to carefully evaluate customer reviews and consider them as a reliable source of information before making a purchase.Analyzing the credibility of reviews
When analyzing the credibility of reviews, it is important to consider various factors. One such factor is the use of auto templates. Auto templates are pre-written review templates that can be easily copied and pasted by sellers to create fake reviews. These templates often contain generic and exaggerated language, making it easier to spot suspicious reviews. By identifying the use of auto templates, consumers can determine the authenticity of the reviews and make informed decisions when purchasing pet products online.Identifying red flags in customer feedback
When it comes to identifying red flags in customer feedback, there are several key factors to consider. One of the first things to look for is an unusually high number of negative reviews or complaints. This could indicate a potential issue with the quality of the pet product. Additionally, pay attention to recurring themes or patterns in the feedback. If multiple customers are reporting the same problem or concern, it may be a sign that there is a genuine issue with the product. Another red flag to watch out for is overly positive or overly negative reviews that seem suspicious or biased. These could be fake or manipulated reviews, which can skew the overall perception of the product's quality. It is also important to consider the credibility of the source of the feedback. Reviews from verified purchasers or reputable websites can carry more weight than anonymous or unverified sources. By being vigilant and considering these red flags, consumers can make more informed decisions when it comes to purchasing pet products online.Comparing Prices and Value
Determining the true value of pet products
Determining the true value of pet products is essential for pet owners who want to ensure the well-being and safety of their furry friends. With the increasing popularity of online shopping, it can be challenging to validate the quality of pet products sold online. However, by considering a few key factors, pet owners can make informed decisions and choose products that meet their pets' needs. One important aspect to consider is the reputation and credibility of the seller. Pet owners should look for trusted brands and sellers with positive reviews and ratings. Additionally, checking for certifications and quality standards can help ensure that the products meet industry standards. Another factor to consider is the ingredients or materials used in the pet products. Pet owners should be aware of any potential allergens or harmful substances that could be present. Lastly, comparing prices and researching the market can help pet owners determine the true value of the products and avoid overpaying. By taking these steps, pet owners can make confident choices when purchasing pet products online.Comparing prices across different platforms
When it comes to purchasing pet products online, it is important to compare prices across different platforms. This allows pet owners to ensure they are getting the best value for their money. By comparing prices, customers can identify any price variations or discounts offered by different sellers. Additionally, comparing prices can help pet owners avoid overpaying for products that may be available at a lower cost elsewhere. Taking the time to compare prices across different platforms is a simple yet effective way to validate the quality of pet products sold online.Considering long-term cost-effectiveness
When considering the long-term cost-effectiveness of pet products sold online, it is important to take into account various factors. One such factor is the branding of the product. Branding plays a significant role in determining the quality and reliability of pet products. For photographers, it is essential to choose products that align with their brand image and values. By selecting pet products from reputable brands, photographers can ensure that they are investing in high-quality items that will last longer and provide better value for money. Additionally, reputable brands often offer warranties and customer support, further enhancing the long-term cost-effectiveness of their products.Seeking Professional Recommendations
Consulting veterinarians or pet experts
Consulting veterinarians or pet experts is an essential step in validating the quality of pet products sold online. These professionals have the knowledge and expertise to assess the safety and efficacy of various products, ensuring that they meet the necessary standards for the well-being of your pets. By seeking their guidance, you can make informed decisions and choose products that are suitable for your pet's specific needs. Whether it's selecting the right food, toys, or grooming supplies, consulting veterinarians or pet experts can provide valuable insights and recommendations to ensure the health and happiness of your furry companions.Getting recommendations from trusted sources
When it comes to finding the best pet products sold online, getting recommendations from trusted sources is essential. One reliable way to ensure the quality of these products is by looking for square features specifically designed for home-based businesses. These features provide added convenience and functionality, making it easier for pet owners to manage their purchases and ensure the well-being of their furry friends. By incorporating square features into the online shopping experience, pet product sellers can offer a seamless and reliable service to their customers. To learn more about the benefits of square features for home-based businesses, click here.Considering specialized pet product review websites
When considering the quality of pet products sold online, it is important to take into account the information provided by specialized pet product review websites. These websites offer valuable insights and unbiased opinions from experts and other pet owners who have tested and evaluated various products. By consulting these review websites, pet owners can make more informed decisions and ensure that they are purchasing high-quality products that meet their pets' specific needs. Additionally, these specialized websites often provide detailed information on product ingredients, manufacturing processes, and safety standards, allowing consumers to have a better understanding of the products they are considering. Overall, relying on specialized pet product review websites can be a helpful resource in validating the quality of pet products sold online.Conclusion
Importance of ensuring the quality of pet products
Ensuring the quality of pet products is of utmost importance for both pet owners and businesses. When it comes to pet products sold online, it becomes even more crucial as there is limited opportunity for physical inspection before purchase. Pet owners rely on the information provided by the seller to make informed decisions about the products they buy for their beloved pets. A business that sells high-quality pet products not only promotes the well-being and safety of pets but also gains the trust and loyalty of their customers. Therefore, ensuring the quality of pet products is essential for business promotion.Taking proactive steps to validate online purchases
Taking proactive steps to validate online purchases is essential in ensuring the quality of pet products. With the increasing popularity of online shopping, it is important to be cautious and thorough when making purchases for our furry friends. One effective way to validate the quality of pet products sold online is by utilizing Google revenue streams. By leveraging the various revenue streams offered by Google, such as Google Ads and Google Shopping, pet owners can access valuable information and reviews about the products they are interested in. These revenue streams provide a platform for sellers to showcase their products and for buyers to make informed decisions based on the experiences of other customers. By using Google revenue streams, pet owners can gain confidence in the quality and authenticity of the products they purchase for their beloved pets.Enhancing the well-being of pets through informed choices
In today's digital age, pet owners have access to a wide range of pet products sold online. However, ensuring the quality of these products is crucial for the well-being of our beloved pets. By making informed choices, we can enhance the overall health and happiness of our furry companions. With the abundance of options available, it is important to be knowledgeable about the factors that determine the quality of pet products. This article will provide a comprehensive guide on how to validate the quality of pet products sold online, empowering pet owners to make informed decisions and prioritize the well-being of their pets.In conclusion, starting a pet supplies business online can be a lucrative venture. With the increasing demand for pet products, there is a great opportunity to tap into this market. By following the step-by-step guide provided on our website, you can learn how to start your own pet supplies business and achieve success. Don't miss out on this chance to turn your passion for pets into a profitable online business. Visit our website today and take the first step towards building your own pet supplies empire!
2024.05.15 00:04 Saun9 Really need some people who talk with empathy and respect 😞.
Hey there! This is Saun
Let me be honest upfront - I gotta admit, I'm feeling a little burnt out on the social scene here. Don't get me wrong, I love my country, but lately, it feels like everyone's competing in aCringe Olympics. You know, the kind of interactions where respect goes out the window, and people just try to one-up each other with negativity? Ugh.😭
I'm craving something different. Deep down, I believe there are still awesome people out there who value genuine connection. Folks who want to have conversations that go beyond the superficial, where we can share our thoughts and feelings freely, knowing the other person will actually listen and care. 😊
That's why I decided to give a try of the idea of a pen-pal app, where letters take time to travel based on distance, really resonates with me. It feels like it forces us to slow down, to put more thought and heart into what we write. Maybe even cultivate a friendship that unfolds with the anticipation of a real letter arriving in your mailbox.
So, if you're someone who appreciates a good conversation, who isn't afraid to be vulnerable and share your true self, and who wouldn't mind a friend who's always down to explore new ideas and perspectives, then drop me a line!
I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to interests, but I'm particularly passionate about Travel, Fitness and Gaming. Who knows, maybe we'll discover some hidden common ground!
Looking forward to meeting you!
Best, Saun ♥️♥️♥️
Mostly reply time will be 1 week with medium to long letters.😊
Just wanted to share feelings about our lives and feel vulnerable. I am huge into gaming and travelling so if you are one of these we are CRUSING!!
Just looking for a kind person because my life is surrounded by toxic people and cant get out of it
submitted by Saun9 to penpals [link] [comments]
Let me be honest upfront - I gotta admit, I'm feeling a little burnt out on the social scene here. Don't get me wrong, I love my country, but lately, it feels like everyone's competing in aCringe Olympics. You know, the kind of interactions where respect goes out the window, and people just try to one-up each other with negativity? Ugh.😭
I'm craving something different. Deep down, I believe there are still awesome people out there who value genuine connection. Folks who want to have conversations that go beyond the superficial, where we can share our thoughts and feelings freely, knowing the other person will actually listen and care. 😊
That's why I decided to give a try of the idea of a pen-pal app, where letters take time to travel based on distance, really resonates with me. It feels like it forces us to slow down, to put more thought and heart into what we write. Maybe even cultivate a friendship that unfolds with the anticipation of a real letter arriving in your mailbox.
So, if you're someone who appreciates a good conversation, who isn't afraid to be vulnerable and share your true self, and who wouldn't mind a friend who's always down to explore new ideas and perspectives, then drop me a line!
I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to interests, but I'm particularly passionate about Travel, Fitness and Gaming. Who knows, maybe we'll discover some hidden common ground!
Looking forward to meeting you!
Best, Saun ♥️♥️♥️
Mostly reply time will be 1 week with medium to long letters.😊
Just wanted to share feelings about our lives and feel vulnerable. I am huge into gaming and travelling so if you are one of these we are CRUSING!!
Just looking for a kind person because my life is surrounded by toxic people and cant get out of it
- What are some ways you show your friends that you care about their feelings?
- For the music lover: What's a genre of music you've always been curious about but haven't explored yet? Maybe we can swap recommendations(spotify blend)!!!!
- Is there a cultural tradition or belief you hold dear that you'd like to share?
- Tell me about a time you had your perspective completely changed by someone else's experience.
- What's the most embarrassing (but funny in hindsight) cultural faux pas you've ever made while traveling (or even in your own country)?
2024.05.15 00:03 captain_DA The Qabalah: Malkuth, where the lighting strikes.
In the realm of nature, nothing quite captures the awe-inspiring force of lightning. Even in our modern-day age, with all our wonders and technologies, witnessing a lightning strike and hearing its thunderous sound can’t help but leave us with a sense of awe and respect for the power of the natural world.
Among the Cherokee, a special kind of respect was paid to lightning. The burnt wood from trees struck by lightning was sought after by shamans. The wood would be buried in soil to ensure a healthy crop and warriors were rubbed with the charred wood for strength, effectively being “charged with bolts of sacred fire”.
To the Cherokee and other groups, lightning was a dramatic display from the spiritual realm, and served as a reminder of the spiritual forces that pervade the natural world and influence human life.
Interestingly, the branching pattern observed in lightning strikes is mirrored across various natural phenomena in our world, with one of the most recognizable patterns being the network of branches in trees.
This striking similarity stems from a shared principle of growth and movement: both the electric charge of lightning and the tree limb navigate from a point of lower potential to one of higher potential, albeit in opposite directions—lightning moves from a high potential charge to a lower one, while a tree limb grows towards a zone with low potential, in this case, a shaded area, towards a zone of greater potential, or sunlight exposure.
This observation highlights a universal pattern of progression; each decision branching out like the limbs of a tree or the forks of a lightning bolt. Perhaps this progression is archetypal, instilled by the Logos as a concept, which is why it is so prevalent. When perceived from a broader perspective, our lives too unfold in a similar branching design, marked by choices and diverging paths that closely resemble the intricate patterns seen in trees and lightning.
This image of a tree and lighting serves to demonstrate that the realm we inhabit is full of metaphors pointing toward higher concepts. Matter is, as the author Walter Russel wrote, “merely the record of ideas and not the ideas themselves”.
Material objects are the shadow of a greater concept which is more nebulous and abstract. The idea reigns supreme, yet its manifestation is physical form. For instance, before we create anything in the physical, it begins first as an idea in the imagination.
Within the imagination, the concept is still nebulous and it has the opportunity to take many forms. It is not yet concrete and “real”. It is still in “potential”.
Once the concept is acted upon, and work is done to bring it into form, then suddenly it has a real-world impact. It is “real”. Yet, at the same time, it’s not real. It’s only the shadow of the concept itself.
This brings up an interesting question: which is superior? The idea or the form based on the idea?
Some would suggest that the point of art, for instance, is to convey concepts. Observing a masterpiece allows us to converse with concepts of a higher order, transcending the physicality of the art piece itself. It matters not what medium the art takes, what matters is the concept that is being conveyed.
This dynamic interplay between the ethereal and the tangible showcases how higher ideas manifest and how these manifestations, in turn, draw us closer to the divine.
As the author and occultist David Goddard writes in his book Tree of Sapphires,
“By the penetrative observations of the Microcosm, you receive intimations of the Macrocosm”.
Perhaps no spiritual tradition encapsulates this concept more distinctly than Qabalah.
Qabalah is a form of Jewish mysticism aimed at understanding the nature of God and the universe. It offers a framework for comprehending the relationships between the Divine, the cosmos, and humanity through a system of ten spheres (Sephiroth) and 22 paths that represent different aspects and levels of consciousness and reality.
The system is visually represented by the Tree of Life, which serves as a map illustrating how the Infinite One, or Ain Sof, interacts with the finite world. Its emanations are called Sephiroth, which are attributes or aspects of the Infinite One.
Holistically, the Tree of Life can be viewed as the process through which the Infinite One differentiates itself into physical reality, metaphorically representing the transition from 0 to 1. It also represents the path back towards unity, from the lower to the higher.
As David Goodard writes,
“It is the lighting flash from Kether at the top of the tree, down to Malkuth that shows the path of involution, or the One Life-Power descending, plane by plane, veiling itself in denser vibratory states.
The sequence of the lighting flash from Malkuth ascending to Kether is the way of evolution, termed the Path of the Return.”
It is the Path of the Return that we will be discussing - starting with the very last sphere on the tree: Malkuth
Malkuth
The Tree of Life is a visual metaphor for how the One differentiates itself into many. One way to study the tree is to see it as a system of triangles made up of various interconnected paths. These paths are described as Activating, Formative and Balancing.
The author Robert Wang in his book The Qabalistic Tarot writes,
“...each of the key triangles on the Tree refers to one part of the Soul: The Supernal Triangle is the Supreme Spiritual Self, the Ethical Triangle is the Higher Self, and the Astral Triangle is the Personality in incarnation.”
In addition, he writes “the core structure of each part of the Self is composed of three aspects, an Activating (Yod-Fire), a Formative (Heh-Water) and an energy which is Balancing (Vau-Air)”
Therefore, each sphere works with the other to form the whole. The only exception is the final sphere, Malkuth. Malkuth contains all three aspects and includes a fourth: “Heh” or “Earth”. Yod Heh Vau Heh, also known as the Tetragrammaton, or the “unprounceable name of God”. Malkuth is the solidified end result of the actions of the Yod Heh and Vau.
You might also liken these forces to the Hegelian dialectic of Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis.
The forces can also be thought of states of consciousness.
The Tree of Life is also divided into three Pillars. The left Pillar are considered “active” forces and the spheres on the right side of the Pillar are considered “formative” or “passive” forces. Within the Middle are the equalibrating forces, considered consciousness itself by Qabalaist.
To visualize this better, think of music played from a guitar. The string is the formative, or passive force, the tension and vibration of the string is the active force, yet without the balancing force of the musician, no music could be created. You would just have noise.
We should regonize that there is no true beginning and no true “end”. When one looks at the Tree, both the bottom, Malkuth, and the top, Kether are both the beginning and the end. The top of the Tree contains the sphere known as Ain Soph, which is God prior to any self-manifestation, existing in no-thing, or what Ra refers to “Intelligent Infinity”.
Therefore, as the light moves further from Kether, it gradually gets stepped down into lower and lower vibrations, filtered through the activating, formative and balancing forces of each triangle.
Malkuth is denest realm on the tree, the “final” destination of the light from the One. It is the what we call the physical universe, the world of form.
In the book The Mystical Qabalah, the author and mystic Dion Fortune writes this about Malkuth,
“It is the formative, concreting function of Malkuth which finally renders tangible and definite what was, upon the higher planes, intangible and indefinite, and this is its great service to manifestation and its characteristic power.”
Within Malkuth, the tangible is precise, and the abstract takes a backseat. Forms here acquire a defined outline, in contrast to the superior spheres where the form is fluid and undefined.
Malkuth is the grounding point of the Divine’s will, where the idea finally becomes manifest.
However, the process of grounding this energy requires the use of channels and links.
Dion Fortune also writes,
“The whole problem of Malkuth is a problem of channels and connecting links. The rest of the work is done by the mind on the subtler planes; the real difficulty lies in the transition from the subtle to the dense, for the subtle is so ill-equipped to work on the dense. This transition is effected by means of the magnetism of living things, whether organic or inorganic.”
The physical, being a dense realm, can be difficult to break through without the appropriate channels and magnetism of beings and objects existing in this realm.
Being immersed in matter, it can be easy to think that we are cut off from the Divine. And, while it can be difficult to hear at times, the subtle calling of Spirit is always transmitting information.
As we work on clearing the rocks and thorns that block the heart, it becomes easier to hear the call of Spirit and to form that connection to the higher realms.
The more we form the connection and listen to the higher callings of Spirit, the greater impact Spirit can have in Malkuth.
The conduit for this connection is, of course, you. All of us have the potential to be channels for the Divine. In fact, as wanderers, this is perhaps the main reason for incarnating on this planet.
To act as that grounding point for the Divine. This is the natural role of humanity. To be the embodiment of Spirit in the physical realm of Malkuth.
This is the act of being a co-creator of the Logos.
Recall that each Logos is responsible for setting up the archetypal framework of a particular system. Everything materializing in Malkuth is a direct offspring of these archetypical blueprints.
Take, for example, the form of the galaxy. Our galaxy adopts a "spiral" configuration which one can see throughout the physical universe. This shape happens to resonate deeply with narrative structures, notably the "Hero's Journey"—a seemingly universal storytelling structure that is found in almost all myths told across cultures and time.
It can be argued that the reason this storytelling structure is so universal is because it is archetypal. That is, it is not learned, but rather inherent in all of us, accessible by those sensitive enough to perceive within the Deep Mind.
The narrative arc of the hero's journey unfolds as follows: The protagonist starts with a certain limitation, be it a belief system or another type of restraint. Eventually, the call to adventure beckons, leading them to accept this quest.
This journey propels them through trials and tribulations, adversity, and shadowy depths, facilitating their growth and leading to the acquisition of vital wisdom. After triumphing over these challenges, the hero returns, ready to embark on a new cycle, equipped with newfound insights.
This narrative framework underscores the principle of continual growth. To evolve spiritually, one must journey beyond the familiar, confront their inner darkness, and from this confrontation, arise, reborn. However, like in real life, the process is never-ending.
If one were to conceptualize this structure visually, it would mirror the form of a spiral.
Since the spiral shape is so ubiquitous, and if we understand that the Divine imprints higher concepts into the physical, then it appears that this archetypal story structure could be a universal pattern, at least in our logos.
This raises an interesting thought: galaxies with alternative formations might operate under distinct archetypal systems, a reflection of the endless variety and complexity inherent in the cosmos. Perhaps a hint as to what those archetypal frameworks could be is found it the shape of their galaxies.
How often have we heard of individuals being suddenly "struck" by a bolt of "creative genius"? Numerous tales abound of artists, scientists, writers, and the like who have given birth to magnificent creations, only to profess that the origin of their "unique" ideas felt as though they were not entirely of their own making but were, in essence, "channeled" from an external source.
This phenomenon suggests a connection to a higher reservoir of knowledge and inspiration, indicating that profound concepts are omnipresent, awaiting discovery and expression in our world.
This is part of our role here in Malkuth. To be conduits, grounding points, for higher concepts. To be the builders, where we can, of the archetypal frameworks thought up by the Logos.
This is true co-creation. To be aligned with the Divine, with Nature, allows one to receive, thus enabling them to move beyond the limitations imposed by Malkuth.
Malkuth is the first step on a journey back to the Ain Soph, back to no-thing. It is an essential step in our journey. As Dion Fortune writes,
“The Qabalah teaches that the body is the Temple of the Holy Spirit, and that unless we learn the lessons of Malkuth there can be no lasting progress beyond. The fact is that our first spiritual lessons come from those around us.
And if we cannot function effectively on the material level, learning from the day to day patterns which we have chosen for our incarnation, it is unlikely that we will be able to function effectively on a more refined spiritual plane. The ability to sense the importance of the ordinary is a special form of discrimination.”
submitted by captain_DA to lawofone [link] [comments]
Among the Cherokee, a special kind of respect was paid to lightning. The burnt wood from trees struck by lightning was sought after by shamans. The wood would be buried in soil to ensure a healthy crop and warriors were rubbed with the charred wood for strength, effectively being “charged with bolts of sacred fire”.
To the Cherokee and other groups, lightning was a dramatic display from the spiritual realm, and served as a reminder of the spiritual forces that pervade the natural world and influence human life.
Interestingly, the branching pattern observed in lightning strikes is mirrored across various natural phenomena in our world, with one of the most recognizable patterns being the network of branches in trees.
This striking similarity stems from a shared principle of growth and movement: both the electric charge of lightning and the tree limb navigate from a point of lower potential to one of higher potential, albeit in opposite directions—lightning moves from a high potential charge to a lower one, while a tree limb grows towards a zone with low potential, in this case, a shaded area, towards a zone of greater potential, or sunlight exposure.
This observation highlights a universal pattern of progression; each decision branching out like the limbs of a tree or the forks of a lightning bolt. Perhaps this progression is archetypal, instilled by the Logos as a concept, which is why it is so prevalent. When perceived from a broader perspective, our lives too unfold in a similar branching design, marked by choices and diverging paths that closely resemble the intricate patterns seen in trees and lightning.
This image of a tree and lighting serves to demonstrate that the realm we inhabit is full of metaphors pointing toward higher concepts. Matter is, as the author Walter Russel wrote, “merely the record of ideas and not the ideas themselves”.
Material objects are the shadow of a greater concept which is more nebulous and abstract. The idea reigns supreme, yet its manifestation is physical form. For instance, before we create anything in the physical, it begins first as an idea in the imagination.
Within the imagination, the concept is still nebulous and it has the opportunity to take many forms. It is not yet concrete and “real”. It is still in “potential”.
Once the concept is acted upon, and work is done to bring it into form, then suddenly it has a real-world impact. It is “real”. Yet, at the same time, it’s not real. It’s only the shadow of the concept itself.
This brings up an interesting question: which is superior? The idea or the form based on the idea?
Some would suggest that the point of art, for instance, is to convey concepts. Observing a masterpiece allows us to converse with concepts of a higher order, transcending the physicality of the art piece itself. It matters not what medium the art takes, what matters is the concept that is being conveyed.
This dynamic interplay between the ethereal and the tangible showcases how higher ideas manifest and how these manifestations, in turn, draw us closer to the divine.
As the author and occultist David Goddard writes in his book Tree of Sapphires,
“By the penetrative observations of the Microcosm, you receive intimations of the Macrocosm”.
Perhaps no spiritual tradition encapsulates this concept more distinctly than Qabalah.
Qabalah is a form of Jewish mysticism aimed at understanding the nature of God and the universe. It offers a framework for comprehending the relationships between the Divine, the cosmos, and humanity through a system of ten spheres (Sephiroth) and 22 paths that represent different aspects and levels of consciousness and reality.
The system is visually represented by the Tree of Life, which serves as a map illustrating how the Infinite One, or Ain Sof, interacts with the finite world. Its emanations are called Sephiroth, which are attributes or aspects of the Infinite One.
Holistically, the Tree of Life can be viewed as the process through which the Infinite One differentiates itself into physical reality, metaphorically representing the transition from 0 to 1. It also represents the path back towards unity, from the lower to the higher.
As David Goodard writes,
“It is the lighting flash from Kether at the top of the tree, down to Malkuth that shows the path of involution, or the One Life-Power descending, plane by plane, veiling itself in denser vibratory states.
The sequence of the lighting flash from Malkuth ascending to Kether is the way of evolution, termed the Path of the Return.”
It is the Path of the Return that we will be discussing - starting with the very last sphere on the tree: Malkuth
Malkuth
The Tree of Life is a visual metaphor for how the One differentiates itself into many. One way to study the tree is to see it as a system of triangles made up of various interconnected paths. These paths are described as Activating, Formative and Balancing.
The author Robert Wang in his book The Qabalistic Tarot writes,
“...each of the key triangles on the Tree refers to one part of the Soul: The Supernal Triangle is the Supreme Spiritual Self, the Ethical Triangle is the Higher Self, and the Astral Triangle is the Personality in incarnation.”
In addition, he writes “the core structure of each part of the Self is composed of three aspects, an Activating (Yod-Fire), a Formative (Heh-Water) and an energy which is Balancing (Vau-Air)”
Therefore, each sphere works with the other to form the whole. The only exception is the final sphere, Malkuth. Malkuth contains all three aspects and includes a fourth: “Heh” or “Earth”. Yod Heh Vau Heh, also known as the Tetragrammaton, or the “unprounceable name of God”. Malkuth is the solidified end result of the actions of the Yod Heh and Vau.
You might also liken these forces to the Hegelian dialectic of Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis.
The forces can also be thought of states of consciousness.
The Tree of Life is also divided into three Pillars. The left Pillar are considered “active” forces and the spheres on the right side of the Pillar are considered “formative” or “passive” forces. Within the Middle are the equalibrating forces, considered consciousness itself by Qabalaist.
To visualize this better, think of music played from a guitar. The string is the formative, or passive force, the tension and vibration of the string is the active force, yet without the balancing force of the musician, no music could be created. You would just have noise.
We should regonize that there is no true beginning and no true “end”. When one looks at the Tree, both the bottom, Malkuth, and the top, Kether are both the beginning and the end. The top of the Tree contains the sphere known as Ain Soph, which is God prior to any self-manifestation, existing in no-thing, or what Ra refers to “Intelligent Infinity”.
Therefore, as the light moves further from Kether, it gradually gets stepped down into lower and lower vibrations, filtered through the activating, formative and balancing forces of each triangle.
Malkuth is denest realm on the tree, the “final” destination of the light from the One. It is the what we call the physical universe, the world of form.
In the book The Mystical Qabalah, the author and mystic Dion Fortune writes this about Malkuth,
“It is the formative, concreting function of Malkuth which finally renders tangible and definite what was, upon the higher planes, intangible and indefinite, and this is its great service to manifestation and its characteristic power.”
Within Malkuth, the tangible is precise, and the abstract takes a backseat. Forms here acquire a defined outline, in contrast to the superior spheres where the form is fluid and undefined.
Malkuth is the grounding point of the Divine’s will, where the idea finally becomes manifest.
However, the process of grounding this energy requires the use of channels and links.
Dion Fortune also writes,
“The whole problem of Malkuth is a problem of channels and connecting links. The rest of the work is done by the mind on the subtler planes; the real difficulty lies in the transition from the subtle to the dense, for the subtle is so ill-equipped to work on the dense. This transition is effected by means of the magnetism of living things, whether organic or inorganic.”
The physical, being a dense realm, can be difficult to break through without the appropriate channels and magnetism of beings and objects existing in this realm.
Being immersed in matter, it can be easy to think that we are cut off from the Divine. And, while it can be difficult to hear at times, the subtle calling of Spirit is always transmitting information.
As we work on clearing the rocks and thorns that block the heart, it becomes easier to hear the call of Spirit and to form that connection to the higher realms.
The more we form the connection and listen to the higher callings of Spirit, the greater impact Spirit can have in Malkuth.
The conduit for this connection is, of course, you. All of us have the potential to be channels for the Divine. In fact, as wanderers, this is perhaps the main reason for incarnating on this planet.
To act as that grounding point for the Divine. This is the natural role of humanity. To be the embodiment of Spirit in the physical realm of Malkuth.
This is the act of being a co-creator of the Logos.
Recall that each Logos is responsible for setting up the archetypal framework of a particular system. Everything materializing in Malkuth is a direct offspring of these archetypical blueprints.
Take, for example, the form of the galaxy. Our galaxy adopts a "spiral" configuration which one can see throughout the physical universe. This shape happens to resonate deeply with narrative structures, notably the "Hero's Journey"—a seemingly universal storytelling structure that is found in almost all myths told across cultures and time.
It can be argued that the reason this storytelling structure is so universal is because it is archetypal. That is, it is not learned, but rather inherent in all of us, accessible by those sensitive enough to perceive within the Deep Mind.
The narrative arc of the hero's journey unfolds as follows: The protagonist starts with a certain limitation, be it a belief system or another type of restraint. Eventually, the call to adventure beckons, leading them to accept this quest.
This journey propels them through trials and tribulations, adversity, and shadowy depths, facilitating their growth and leading to the acquisition of vital wisdom. After triumphing over these challenges, the hero returns, ready to embark on a new cycle, equipped with newfound insights.
This narrative framework underscores the principle of continual growth. To evolve spiritually, one must journey beyond the familiar, confront their inner darkness, and from this confrontation, arise, reborn. However, like in real life, the process is never-ending.
If one were to conceptualize this structure visually, it would mirror the form of a spiral.
Since the spiral shape is so ubiquitous, and if we understand that the Divine imprints higher concepts into the physical, then it appears that this archetypal story structure could be a universal pattern, at least in our logos.
This raises an interesting thought: galaxies with alternative formations might operate under distinct archetypal systems, a reflection of the endless variety and complexity inherent in the cosmos. Perhaps a hint as to what those archetypal frameworks could be is found it the shape of their galaxies.
How often have we heard of individuals being suddenly "struck" by a bolt of "creative genius"? Numerous tales abound of artists, scientists, writers, and the like who have given birth to magnificent creations, only to profess that the origin of their "unique" ideas felt as though they were not entirely of their own making but were, in essence, "channeled" from an external source.
This phenomenon suggests a connection to a higher reservoir of knowledge and inspiration, indicating that profound concepts are omnipresent, awaiting discovery and expression in our world.
This is part of our role here in Malkuth. To be conduits, grounding points, for higher concepts. To be the builders, where we can, of the archetypal frameworks thought up by the Logos.
This is true co-creation. To be aligned with the Divine, with Nature, allows one to receive, thus enabling them to move beyond the limitations imposed by Malkuth.
Malkuth is the first step on a journey back to the Ain Soph, back to no-thing. It is an essential step in our journey. As Dion Fortune writes,
“The Qabalah teaches that the body is the Temple of the Holy Spirit, and that unless we learn the lessons of Malkuth there can be no lasting progress beyond. The fact is that our first spiritual lessons come from those around us.
And if we cannot function effectively on the material level, learning from the day to day patterns which we have chosen for our incarnation, it is unlikely that we will be able to function effectively on a more refined spiritual plane. The ability to sense the importance of the ordinary is a special form of discrimination.”
2024.05.15 00:03 Minimum-Arrival4423 Possible rheumatoid arthritis? Something else?
24, female
Symptoms: body aches, mainly leg pain, most severe in the hips. Locking sensation in hips. Fatigue. Sun sensitivity. Weakness. Brain fog. Heart palpitations. Chest pain. Swollen hands and ankles. Numbness and tingling in hands and feet, very cold. Muscle spasms. A couple weeks ago, my hips hurt so bad that I almost cried just from being lightly touched
Diagnosed with lyme disease when I was little, but now the doctor says my blood tests indicate that I've never had lyme disease. When I was diagnosed with lyme disease, i was about 9 years old and I was in so much pain that I couldn't walk. It was the worst pain in my life. Growing up I always complained of pain, mainly in my legs and back but my family said it was growing pains. I've also always needed 10-12 hours of sleep and even then I'm still exhausted.
ANA 1:40 titer, A-27 pattern
Mutate Citrullinated Vimentin: 75 u/mL
CCP antibody: <16 units
CRP: <3 mg/L
RA latex turbid: <14 IU/mL
Sed rate: 12 mm/hr
They also tested me for a lot of lupus specific antibodies and all those came up negative. My mom has fibromyalgia, my sister has type 1 diabetes and hashimotos. My cousin and my great-great grandma both have/had rheumatoid arthritis.
I have had MRI w/o contrast and Xrays done about 2 years ago and nothing bad showed up.
I have been having problems for a long time. Any opinions or advice appreciated
submitted by Minimum-Arrival4423 to Autoimmune [link] [comments]
Symptoms: body aches, mainly leg pain, most severe in the hips. Locking sensation in hips. Fatigue. Sun sensitivity. Weakness. Brain fog. Heart palpitations. Chest pain. Swollen hands and ankles. Numbness and tingling in hands and feet, very cold. Muscle spasms. A couple weeks ago, my hips hurt so bad that I almost cried just from being lightly touched
Diagnosed with lyme disease when I was little, but now the doctor says my blood tests indicate that I've never had lyme disease. When I was diagnosed with lyme disease, i was about 9 years old and I was in so much pain that I couldn't walk. It was the worst pain in my life. Growing up I always complained of pain, mainly in my legs and back but my family said it was growing pains. I've also always needed 10-12 hours of sleep and even then I'm still exhausted.
ANA 1:40 titer, A-27 pattern
Mutate Citrullinated Vimentin: 75 u/mL
CCP antibody: <16 units
CRP: <3 mg/L
RA latex turbid: <14 IU/mL
Sed rate: 12 mm/hr
They also tested me for a lot of lupus specific antibodies and all those came up negative. My mom has fibromyalgia, my sister has type 1 diabetes and hashimotos. My cousin and my great-great grandma both have/had rheumatoid arthritis.
I have had MRI w/o contrast and Xrays done about 2 years ago and nothing bad showed up.
I have been having problems for a long time. Any opinions or advice appreciated
2024.05.15 00:02 e_hawthorne Emilie Autumn Did It Better: Mental Health Edition
Okay this is not specifically Taylor AND Travis, but I feel this sub would get where I am coming from.
Now I am not one to ever compare one individual's mental health conditions that may be with another person. Everyone has their own struggles and challenges they go through, even if the severity differs. However, in this situation, I would like to put my two cents in on a subject many of us already have started to discuss: Taylor's usage of mental illness, mental institutions, and just overall angst she has been harbouring since TTPD's announcement to present times. As others have pointed out before me, it has never been confirmed if Taylor has any medical condition or has any mental disorder. She did confirm back in 2019 though I believe, she has never gone to therapy as she sees her mom as the only therapist she ever could need (if it has changed since then, please let me know). To be honest, yes, it's not our place to know if she doesn't want to share, about anything involving herself, especially like mental health, as it's a personal subject for many, whether famous or not. Also I truly think therapy while super helpful for some, may not be the right for others in contrast. It genuinely depends on each individual on what they need and what works best for them. Alas, whatever we want to call Taylor is doing for the TTPD era with the usage and imagery of mental illness, personally I'm not only over it but disgusted by it.
For starters, we are led to think all this imagery and wordplay and overall presentation of mental illness and mental institutions and lobonomies etc are solely due to her broken heart over a former love (popular suggestion says it's for Matty Healy but some think it's still Joe and some think it's for other people completely or even other situations). We're left with solely her songs and her choices in words both in songs and in real life, to theorize what they could be alluding to. I have seen many Gaylors suggest these are influenced by the LGBTQIA+ was and have been treated in mainstream society. How, homosexuality was even listed an actual illness not so long ago unfortunately.
But for the sake of calling a spade a spade and being simplistic, I am just going to follow the popular belief that this era is just her choice of showing her reaction and feelings towards some ex-lover and feeling scorned by them, most likely it's Matty. Or least the grand majority of the songs seem to lean in his not so favour. That being said (and as someone who has been there with Taylor since Debut), she could have honestly chose a better direction. Mental illness isn't a joke to make people laugh at parties. It isn't a trend or the latest accessory to buy at the mall. It's not something you can just shake off and pretend it's done by the next album. It's real and it's really affects your every day life. Just as mental institutions are no joke. They're not fun playgrounds to meet potential besties at. It's literally a place that originally people were sent to against their will. Even in present times, some people are still sent to them against their will. Yes, some go now voluntarily, but it isn't always the case. I understand being heartbroken and something like ghosting can make one feel emotionally vulnerable and hurt on a multitude of levels. I just wouldn't justify making chronic word usage of "asylums", "madhouses", phrases like "they sent me away" or referencing coming straight from the hospital if she just meant it "symbolically". I get she could have easily meant Hollywood and stardom especially like she has experienced, is a crazy experience to endure, but in that case, it seems like her previous analogies of a circus works better without offending potential parties or people with actual experiences with mental institutions and/or mental illness. It reminds me of how several people say something like "I always wash my hands, I'm OCD" or "War time flashbacks, I got PTSD from *names a very underwhelming situation that disturb a person slightly*", It's careless and callous wording all around. The fact we have even seen some of Taylor's so-called fans start to make their own medical bracelets to play up this theme is disturbing in my opinion. Again mental illness isn't some necklace to show off like a diamond studded piece.
I'm not saying Taylor couldn't have felt maddened in a way by her experiences that inspired TTPD thus how she chose to display this era and such. In my own personal experience without going too much into it, I had my own ghosting experience a few years back that wasn't fun in any way, and it was with someone, who reassured me for months on end that they were going to stay and we'd always be in each other's lives so obviously my trust and faith were both shaken when I noticed one night, I got blocked from all their social media and they didn't answer any call or text I left. However, I didn't go around not only acting like a tortured Victorian woman, who was imprisoned against her own will in a sanitarium but marketing myself as one and even trying to trademark a term I clearly didn't create. Granted say Taylor hypothetically went through a whole bunch of worst case scenarios: loved ones dying, friends leaving her when she needed them the most, people she care for getting sick, potential bankruptcy, etc then fuck, I get her reason behind using all this theme and the imagery as well. But I am going to take the benefit of the doubt and say she really chose a serious topic and things associated with it, just because something went awry again with her and some person she dated unfortunately. And what makes it even more vulgar in my opinion is it's not even like her first break up. It's much more than her first rodeo at this game yet she chose to display all of her feelings for it this time in perhaps, one of the worst ways. She is being insensitive to the ones who actually have been in mental institutions, whether by choice or not, and/or are suffering from mental illness. Again maybe she has something too, maybe not but regardless, she seems tone-deaf to the bigger picture here, similar to her using soldier terminology despite never been at war or even in service.
Many musicians have used this imagery before as we've established but it doesn't make it any more right. Several artists in comparison have been public with their mental health situations and don't even choose to use this type of imagery for themselves. They'll mention it time from time, but it's definitely not treated like a personality trait from them. It's just an aspect of them but not the whole picture. The fact she's even referring to herself as "The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department" sounds like the combination of one of the most pretentious and woe is me crock I have ever heard. We don't see Morrissey calling himself, "The Pope of Mope" (yes, the fans do but he doesn't) and I doubt we'd see Robert Smith call himself, "The King of Sad". Yet Taylor who has had what seemed like a well off childhood and many good things happen to her and never seemed to brand herself as anything less than cheery adjectives for more over a decade, it just sounds so off-putting now she's trying to play the tragic role like it's natural or genuine.
I find it important to note, one particular musician named Emilie Autumn, has been inspired by the Victorian era for her whole career and real life "tortured" writers , along with incorporating the whole asylum analogy long before Taylor, but in sheer contrast, it was documented she actually went to a psych ward in a book she published in 2009. In the book itself, she discusses what it was in both a fictional way and factual way of what she went through as well showcasing how women were treated there in present times compared with the 1800s hasn't changed that much. She wanted to write the book to empower women though and to rise above the turmoil and be stronger because of it. She was no victim here (nor trying to just use it "alt points"). She has since (and even before the book) been very open about her experiences with mental illness (she's openly bipolar and the abuse she's endured over the years, as well her songs show she's not afraid to tackle the harder subjects) and what's it really like to be in a psych ward. I feel Emilie Autumn accomplished making mental illness a subject we can understand and even relate to, without it feeling gimmicky or a cash grab until she comes up with another aesthetic. Again I'm not saying Taylor's life story has been nothing but peaches and cream though, I recognize it hasn't been. And again she isn't expected to tell us her entire medical history and every blemish she ever had, but I don't support nor think her going around at her concerts with her dancers dressed as nurses and doctors and her using mental institutions as settings when she has been so mum on the subject of mental health, whether hers or in general, is a good look especially if she's just doing it to songs about how a guy stopped pursuing her and they weren't even together for that long. It comes off disrespectful and even condescending to the ones, who really have mental conditions and we can't just shake it off with a dance number. I'm sorry she got hurt (whether she still is or was is debated), but it doesn't give her a free pass to use something as heavy as this as just an aesthetic and equally turning a blind eye when some of her fans think it's just a lighthearted thing too. I will never get over how so many are now using asylums so loosely, like "OMG this album makes me crazy, send me to an asylum next". That's fucked up to say the least. Ultimately, I just hope this phase changes fast, and hopefully, Taylor can heal from whatever she is or isn't singing about, and more people step in when an idea is just isn't a good one.
submitted by e_hawthorne to travisandtaylor [link] [comments]
Now I am not one to ever compare one individual's mental health conditions that may be with another person. Everyone has their own struggles and challenges they go through, even if the severity differs. However, in this situation, I would like to put my two cents in on a subject many of us already have started to discuss: Taylor's usage of mental illness, mental institutions, and just overall angst she has been harbouring since TTPD's announcement to present times. As others have pointed out before me, it has never been confirmed if Taylor has any medical condition or has any mental disorder. She did confirm back in 2019 though I believe, she has never gone to therapy as she sees her mom as the only therapist she ever could need (if it has changed since then, please let me know). To be honest, yes, it's not our place to know if she doesn't want to share, about anything involving herself, especially like mental health, as it's a personal subject for many, whether famous or not. Also I truly think therapy while super helpful for some, may not be the right for others in contrast. It genuinely depends on each individual on what they need and what works best for them. Alas, whatever we want to call Taylor is doing for the TTPD era with the usage and imagery of mental illness, personally I'm not only over it but disgusted by it.
For starters, we are led to think all this imagery and wordplay and overall presentation of mental illness and mental institutions and lobonomies etc are solely due to her broken heart over a former love (popular suggestion says it's for Matty Healy but some think it's still Joe and some think it's for other people completely or even other situations). We're left with solely her songs and her choices in words both in songs and in real life, to theorize what they could be alluding to. I have seen many Gaylors suggest these are influenced by the LGBTQIA+ was and have been treated in mainstream society. How, homosexuality was even listed an actual illness not so long ago unfortunately.
But for the sake of calling a spade a spade and being simplistic, I am just going to follow the popular belief that this era is just her choice of showing her reaction and feelings towards some ex-lover and feeling scorned by them, most likely it's Matty. Or least the grand majority of the songs seem to lean in his not so favour. That being said (and as someone who has been there with Taylor since Debut), she could have honestly chose a better direction. Mental illness isn't a joke to make people laugh at parties. It isn't a trend or the latest accessory to buy at the mall. It's not something you can just shake off and pretend it's done by the next album. It's real and it's really affects your every day life. Just as mental institutions are no joke. They're not fun playgrounds to meet potential besties at. It's literally a place that originally people were sent to against their will. Even in present times, some people are still sent to them against their will. Yes, some go now voluntarily, but it isn't always the case. I understand being heartbroken and something like ghosting can make one feel emotionally vulnerable and hurt on a multitude of levels. I just wouldn't justify making chronic word usage of "asylums", "madhouses", phrases like "they sent me away" or referencing coming straight from the hospital if she just meant it "symbolically". I get she could have easily meant Hollywood and stardom especially like she has experienced, is a crazy experience to endure, but in that case, it seems like her previous analogies of a circus works better without offending potential parties or people with actual experiences with mental institutions and/or mental illness. It reminds me of how several people say something like "I always wash my hands, I'm OCD" or "War time flashbacks, I got PTSD from *names a very underwhelming situation that disturb a person slightly*", It's careless and callous wording all around. The fact we have even seen some of Taylor's so-called fans start to make their own medical bracelets to play up this theme is disturbing in my opinion. Again mental illness isn't some necklace to show off like a diamond studded piece.
I'm not saying Taylor couldn't have felt maddened in a way by her experiences that inspired TTPD thus how she chose to display this era and such. In my own personal experience without going too much into it, I had my own ghosting experience a few years back that wasn't fun in any way, and it was with someone, who reassured me for months on end that they were going to stay and we'd always be in each other's lives so obviously my trust and faith were both shaken when I noticed one night, I got blocked from all their social media and they didn't answer any call or text I left. However, I didn't go around not only acting like a tortured Victorian woman, who was imprisoned against her own will in a sanitarium but marketing myself as one and even trying to trademark a term I clearly didn't create. Granted say Taylor hypothetically went through a whole bunch of worst case scenarios: loved ones dying, friends leaving her when she needed them the most, people she care for getting sick, potential bankruptcy, etc then fuck, I get her reason behind using all this theme and the imagery as well. But I am going to take the benefit of the doubt and say she really chose a serious topic and things associated with it, just because something went awry again with her and some person she dated unfortunately. And what makes it even more vulgar in my opinion is it's not even like her first break up. It's much more than her first rodeo at this game yet she chose to display all of her feelings for it this time in perhaps, one of the worst ways. She is being insensitive to the ones who actually have been in mental institutions, whether by choice or not, and/or are suffering from mental illness. Again maybe she has something too, maybe not but regardless, she seems tone-deaf to the bigger picture here, similar to her using soldier terminology despite never been at war or even in service.
Many musicians have used this imagery before as we've established but it doesn't make it any more right. Several artists in comparison have been public with their mental health situations and don't even choose to use this type of imagery for themselves. They'll mention it time from time, but it's definitely not treated like a personality trait from them. It's just an aspect of them but not the whole picture. The fact she's even referring to herself as "The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department" sounds like the combination of one of the most pretentious and woe is me crock I have ever heard. We don't see Morrissey calling himself, "The Pope of Mope" (yes, the fans do but he doesn't) and I doubt we'd see Robert Smith call himself, "The King of Sad". Yet Taylor who has had what seemed like a well off childhood and many good things happen to her and never seemed to brand herself as anything less than cheery adjectives for more over a decade, it just sounds so off-putting now she's trying to play the tragic role like it's natural or genuine.
I find it important to note, one particular musician named Emilie Autumn, has been inspired by the Victorian era for her whole career and real life "tortured" writers , along with incorporating the whole asylum analogy long before Taylor, but in sheer contrast, it was documented she actually went to a psych ward in a book she published in 2009. In the book itself, she discusses what it was in both a fictional way and factual way of what she went through as well showcasing how women were treated there in present times compared with the 1800s hasn't changed that much. She wanted to write the book to empower women though and to rise above the turmoil and be stronger because of it. She was no victim here (nor trying to just use it "alt points"). She has since (and even before the book) been very open about her experiences with mental illness (she's openly bipolar and the abuse she's endured over the years, as well her songs show she's not afraid to tackle the harder subjects) and what's it really like to be in a psych ward. I feel Emilie Autumn accomplished making mental illness a subject we can understand and even relate to, without it feeling gimmicky or a cash grab until she comes up with another aesthetic. Again I'm not saying Taylor's life story has been nothing but peaches and cream though, I recognize it hasn't been. And again she isn't expected to tell us her entire medical history and every blemish she ever had, but I don't support nor think her going around at her concerts with her dancers dressed as nurses and doctors and her using mental institutions as settings when she has been so mum on the subject of mental health, whether hers or in general, is a good look especially if she's just doing it to songs about how a guy stopped pursuing her and they weren't even together for that long. It comes off disrespectful and even condescending to the ones, who really have mental conditions and we can't just shake it off with a dance number. I'm sorry she got hurt (whether she still is or was is debated), but it doesn't give her a free pass to use something as heavy as this as just an aesthetic and equally turning a blind eye when some of her fans think it's just a lighthearted thing too. I will never get over how so many are now using asylums so loosely, like "OMG this album makes me crazy, send me to an asylum next". That's fucked up to say the least. Ultimately, I just hope this phase changes fast, and hopefully, Taylor can heal from whatever she is or isn't singing about, and more people step in when an idea is just isn't a good one.
2024.05.15 00:00 AVeryOddLife 10 Reasons I Have Not Tried to Reach Out
- I'm nervous about it. Many years ago in the 90s I was a mentally ill teenager and without going into details me not respecting boundaries got me in a lot of trouble. It was traumatizing and I don't want to go through it again.
- Even before that when I was a child and throughout most of my adult life every idea I've had has been laughed at, I've faced constant discouragement from family, basically every time I go even a little outside of my comfort zone bad things happen.
- I want to respect your boundaries. You've never told me explicitly not to contact you like others have said to me before but you blocked me on pretty much every app. I purposely deleted your number from contacts just so I wouldn't even be tempted to cross that line. If I really really want to reach out to you I'm sure I could find the number in a backup here somewhere. But I get the feeling it's a bad idea.
- The ratio of my messages to your responses when we did communicate is weighted very heavily towards me. It gets very discouraging after awhile.
- I said I wasn't ok and didn't get a response for months. I know you might say "go get a therapist" but I wasn't looking for a therapist. I would have been fine with "hey I'm sorry to here you are not feeling well. Let's get together for coffee sometime".
- I felt a little used. I did a lot of work for you. It was never about the money. I would have helped you for free. It was just I wanted to help you with something long term and you used my help as a short term fix and I ended up doing work through you for people I didn't want to be doing work for anymore. I left because those people didn't appreciate me, and through you I ended up doing it for pennies on the dollar. Again, the money didn't matter, it was the principle. I would have gladly helped you for free.
- I'm afraid you might think I was using you. Like this was some long term devious plan. I'm really not that clever. As I got to spend time with you I liked you.
- We're defintiely at different stages in life because of our different ages (late 20s vs early 40s). It's definitely a factor holding me back.
- Even if you for some reason wanted to be with me, I was and am too weak. Without getting into a sob story about my life, it's been a very bad one. I'm depressed and overweight and not wealthy (though I do alright). I could just never give you the things you deserve. I would want you to be with someone that makes you happy and that you would feel fine showing off to your friends. Someone who doesn't have to struggle to do things around the home to maintain it. Someone who can do fun activities outside with you. Unfortuantely that's not me.
- Anytime I've opened my heart to be vulnerable, I've been hurt. I've already told you in person about a couple of those times. (If you remember the only reason I was telling you was to make you feel better since you were telling me about your crush on one of your coworkers).
Just please don't think me staying away or being mean has anyting to do with you. It's been hard for many years now. It would be nice to have someone here to help. To talk to. About anything. I could just sit here and listen to you complain about work for hours. And I know I'm far from blameless. I could write a longer letter with all my faults.
I sent you one last thing on your birthday earlier this month. I just wanted perhaps the last thing you ever got from me to be something nice. Because the message before that came from a place of hurt.
But even me with all my faults deserves some happiness, kindness, and respect. I hope you find those in your life. And I hope someday I get to experience them too.
Sorry for the paragraphs and paragraphs and not respecting the boundaries of friendship. I guess to the void the words go. I've lost my train of thought.
2024.05.14 23:48 StarleyForge Just finished 1440 layer 10” Damascus chef knife
 | 1440 layers 80CrV2 and 15N20 Modified ladder pattern. submitted by StarleyForge to Bladesmith [link] [comments] Purple Heart handle with copper spacer and pins. Finishing up the little sister still. Will be 8” full tang chefs knife. This one took a while. |
2024.05.14 23:45 MycologistSecure4898 Good luck, babe
Well, after 3 cancellations and a lot of me chasing them to pin down plans, the conversation with LO finally happened. As I expected it was thoroughly anticlimactic.
LO made it clear that this whole experience has been more emotionally intense for me than it has been for them. In other words, they don’t really care. We talked, I apologized, they accepted my apology, and we hung out for several hours.
I am proud of myself for staying calm enough to apologize and listen to their actual feelings. I am annoyed however because I still fell into my fawn response and didn’t voice any of the disrespectful things they do that trigger me. So I ended the conversation feeling one down and waiting on them (yet again) to define the terms of our friendship going forward.
I finally know LO doesn’t care about me. I feel free. Not sad really. Just annoyed I wasted so much time on this person.
I also met a young part of me that wants to be held and did an ideal parent meditation that helped me realize why I’m addicted to LO.
LO triggers me back to the feelings of not belonging and loneliness I felt from early childhood. We have such similar trauma that my parts feel like I can redeem my childhood wounds by convincing them to love me. It’s the same dynamic I had with my mom and other caregivers.
I spent some time with those parts and helped them unburden. I also had an amazing date with a really cute person last night, which helped. (Not feeling another LO coming on, just genuinely had a good time). I am going to keep working on addressing my attachment issues so I don’t keep trying to get my emotional needs met from LO or other suitors by playing out old patterns from childhood.
I feel free. I am more fed up and burnt out with LO than anything at this point. They don’t like me, I’ll never understand why, and it’s not my responsibility to convince them to love me or to save them from their own very similar wounds. They’re just a person, one who increasingly treats me poorly.
One piece that stood out for me was listening to LO complain about how badly the men they are dating are treating them. That the things these men are doing are the exact same things LO does to me and I find triggering, and also that the things LO wants from these men is what I offered (emotional support, care, consistency). I feel like Chappell Roan wrote “Good Luck, Babe” for this exact type of situation. I have compassion for LO, and obviously these men are behaving terribly, but it just strikes me as ironic that, here I am, right here ready to love you exactly like you want, and…crickets.
This experience forced me to heal from the last cobwebs of my childhood emotional neglect trauma so that I can finally find healthy love, love myself, and live my life on my own terms.
I don’t need LO. I need myself and the solid people in my life who do choose me and want me always.
submitted by MycologistSecure4898 to limerence [link] [comments]
LO made it clear that this whole experience has been more emotionally intense for me than it has been for them. In other words, they don’t really care. We talked, I apologized, they accepted my apology, and we hung out for several hours.
I am proud of myself for staying calm enough to apologize and listen to their actual feelings. I am annoyed however because I still fell into my fawn response and didn’t voice any of the disrespectful things they do that trigger me. So I ended the conversation feeling one down and waiting on them (yet again) to define the terms of our friendship going forward.
I finally know LO doesn’t care about me. I feel free. Not sad really. Just annoyed I wasted so much time on this person.
I also met a young part of me that wants to be held and did an ideal parent meditation that helped me realize why I’m addicted to LO.
LO triggers me back to the feelings of not belonging and loneliness I felt from early childhood. We have such similar trauma that my parts feel like I can redeem my childhood wounds by convincing them to love me. It’s the same dynamic I had with my mom and other caregivers.
I spent some time with those parts and helped them unburden. I also had an amazing date with a really cute person last night, which helped. (Not feeling another LO coming on, just genuinely had a good time). I am going to keep working on addressing my attachment issues so I don’t keep trying to get my emotional needs met from LO or other suitors by playing out old patterns from childhood.
I feel free. I am more fed up and burnt out with LO than anything at this point. They don’t like me, I’ll never understand why, and it’s not my responsibility to convince them to love me or to save them from their own very similar wounds. They’re just a person, one who increasingly treats me poorly.
One piece that stood out for me was listening to LO complain about how badly the men they are dating are treating them. That the things these men are doing are the exact same things LO does to me and I find triggering, and also that the things LO wants from these men is what I offered (emotional support, care, consistency). I feel like Chappell Roan wrote “Good Luck, Babe” for this exact type of situation. I have compassion for LO, and obviously these men are behaving terribly, but it just strikes me as ironic that, here I am, right here ready to love you exactly like you want, and…crickets.
This experience forced me to heal from the last cobwebs of my childhood emotional neglect trauma so that I can finally find healthy love, love myself, and live my life on my own terms.
I don’t need LO. I need myself and the solid people in my life who do choose me and want me always.
2024.05.14 23:44 Nemo__404 Deathworlders Should Not Be Allowed To Date! [Ch. 34/??]
first
Luna VI query: Set the source to the leaked files of the first reconnaissance operation of Irisa.
Certainly!
Luna VI query: What did Ryo do during the first hour of the war?
***
Ryo had already reached a state of full awareness after waking up, and yet he hadn't moved an inch, immersed in his inner world as he thought about what he and Elysira had done at night.
And what a wild night it was.
The way that she had skipped the journey to go straight for the finishing line had caught him unprepared. Still, with the mystery of their physical compatibility out of the way from the get-go, Ryo had been left with a lot of time to explore the other hiccups and perks of this interspecies endeavor.
From the occasional accident with her claws to the new possibilities her tail brought to the table, Ryo had enjoyed everything.
There was not an ounce of regret in him, but the memory of their last act lingered incessantly in his thoughts—a vivid Recollection of Elysira’s tail wrapping around his leg and letting silence prevail as his arm shyly enveloped her, allowing them to fall asleep side by side.
The one memory that held him in place, fearing their next interaction when the slightest of his movements would inevitably wake her up, mirroring what had happened all in the previous mornings.
What would she say?
Would she think that they are in a relationship now?
What would he do if the concept of casual hook ups didn't exist for the Irisians?
Ryo touched his face and shook his head, instantly deciding it was time to start his morning routine to distract him from those absurd thoughts.
The brain IO interface captured his intention, turning on the lights on the ceiling with maximum brightness, something that he was sure would wake her up at once given how sensitive to change all Irisians were.
And yet he was wrong.
Elysira’s head tilted away from the light as eyelids fluttered, but the only other thing she did before stopping moving was strengthening her grip on his leg quite a bit, making him realize that her tail had not let go of him the whole night.
Upon noticing how numb his leg felt, Ryo propelled his body upwards, intending to uncoil her tail from his leg and start his day. Hopefully, Elysira wouldn't mention what they did, and he too would be able to pretend it never happened.
However, the moment his upper body lifted from the ground and he got a full view of her body, he was unable to remove her tail from his leg, captivated by a simple but powerful sight.
With her hands inside the pockets, Elysira had used his jeans to restrain her claws, putting herself in a very uncomfortable position, likely afraid of hurting him during her sleep.
His eyes widened, dispersing his previous train of thought from existence. The hand that was supposed to be dealing with her tail moved toward Elysira's exposed neck instead, aiming to wake her up with a gentle touch.
And as if he had just perturbed the stillness of a calm lake with a stone, a barely perceptible ripple of yellow spread on her skin from the contact with his fingertips. It traveled through her neck, reaching the soft lines of her face, and even traveled down her long hair strands.
At the same time that it felt wrong to be able to take a peek at her emotions so easily, Ryo couldn't help but wonder—which other colors had the darkness stolen from him? While immersed in this question, Ryo kept caressing her neck until her eyes opened slowly, resetting all the back spots of her body at once as consciousness took control over instinct.
Elysira’s grip on his leg loosened when she realized she was overdoing it. Her gaze started scanning every inch of him, starting from the accidental scratches of her own making and unashamedly stopping at places she had not seen before.
Unbothered by her curiosity, he even removed some of the loose strands in front of her eyes and threw them behind her long ears to make her job easier, feeling some apprehension only when she lost interest and sought eye contact.
Traces of purple appeared around her black spots as she spoke. "What do you humans do after... what we did?"
Ryo winced, but his tone was gentle. "Silly girl!" He felt deep regret for how he had skipped the part of Irisian relationships in favor of politics when she was teaching him about her species. "It could be everything or nothing."
He expected some intense reaction from Elysira, but there wasn't a lot of emotion showing. As he searched her skin, he also realized he was unable to look at her the same way as before.
From seeing her small breasts, which he now knew for a fact fit on his hands, to the very memory of all evenness that he now was able to associate with the sheen her skin exhibited from certain angles, Ryo realized he had lost the ability to gauge her emotions without feeling a hint desire.
She noticed how long he was staring at her and a hint of yellow appeared. "I don't need everything, but nothing is not enough!"
How did Ryo fail to see that this conversation would inevitably happen when they were having fun at night?
"Oh!" He was unable to keep his mouth shut, which resulted in red and purple manifesting on her skin as he felt the pressure for a quick reply.
He had heard the Irisians speaking terms such as chosen, mate, and family, but Ryo didn't know much about this, and now was not looking like a good time for asking for clarification.
The translator would do its job in conveying his intention. But what would he say? Friends with benefits maybe? He gave up that one on the spot; he didn't consider their previous relationship a friendship, and somehow, he felt a dangerous desire to want more than that from her.
Under the pressure of his previous mistake, he told her the highest relationship he was willing to have without a care in the world for consulting his superiors. "Is girlfriend good for you?"
Elysira’s eyes widened as her skin maintained the same tones. But it lasted only a second before a golden hue took over, leaving little room for her black spots. "Wait, are you serious? I never thought you would consider anything more than being my exclusive pair."
"I am serious, but what's the difference?" Ryo instantly felt he could have gotten away with being just friends with benefits.
"Two differences." She took her clawed hands from the pockets of his jeans and pressed them against his neck in a fast but controlled movement. "One is implied trust." Her head approached him slower as if she would kiss him, but instead, her lips diverted toward his ears where she whispered, "And the other is a promise for the future."
"That seems alright."
As he said that, Elysira had already started taking little bites on his earlobe, her other hand joining around his neck while her tail was sneakily pushing the rest of her body on top of him.
"This will have to be quick, we-"
Ryo was about to give up the time they had for breakfast, when a powerful explosion shook the ground, causing the whole tent to vibrate.
Elysira’s pointy ears began to twitch and her body receded, trying to get of clue of what happened as she displayed purple. "I hear nothing."
"This was not far from here; I don't think it was a landslide." Ryo summoned a window with all the cameras outside and found nothing unusual, even with the infrared inspection.
Elysira could see what he was doing since they had never left the shared augmented space.
"Can we see what Amara is doing? She might know more than us."
He still was incapable of referring to her as his girlfriend even in his thoughts, but he still felt a hint of pride for her quick thinking. "Let's see."
He quickly summoned a live feed and promptly instructed the AI to go through the recordings of the whole night. "Nathan and that princess are still inside the tent. Time to go there."
Ryo wasted no time explaining, quickly standing up to begin the search for his underwear. The floor was still littered with paper sheets, and there were even some opened water bottles around, but he still found what he was looking for before pulling his jeans from under Elysira’s butt and getting dressed with haste.
He wore his shoes but didn't bother with his shirt and jacket, just taking his already loaded gun from the holster and getting some spare ammunition before heading outside cautiously.
"I'm going with you." She got out of the tent almost at the same time as him, proving that not needing clothes had its advantages.
"Stay close." He activated the infrared view mode and scanned the surroundings just to be sure, then hasted his steps towards Nathan's tent which was about forty meters ahead.
There was little he expected would go wrong on such a short journey, but Elysira’s ears began to twitch halfway through, prompting him to stop advancing. "Hear someone?"
"Something." She then used her tail to point uphill, in the direction where the rest of the group had set camp on the previous day. "I think it's a drone."
"Fuck, I hope you are wrong." He raised his 3D-printed revolver and felt like cursing more at the fact he didn't even have a proper pistol, pulling back the harmer and getting himself in front of Elysira.
Thanks to her acute hearing, when he heard the buzzing of the drone, his gun was already pointing in the right direction. Upon getting the first glimpse of the flying object and noticing how fast it was moving, he didn't hesitate to do a partial activation of combat mode.
The world slowed down for a moment, allowing him to see the device flying among the very few beams of blue light that made their way through the canopies. He didn't wait a single second and corrected his aim slightly to the left before pulling the trigger.
Bang!
The drone was torn to pieces and many parts fell about twenty-five meters away from them, at a distance that any explosives wouldn't hurt himself or Elysira.
When his eyes found her behind him, there was yellow and purple on her skin as she asked, "What if it was friendly?"
"The owner can send the bill up the chain for all I care." Ryo lowered the gun and did a full scan all around once more, only to find nothing again.
Her tail wrapped around his arm as all purple on her body disappeared, leaving only a hint of yellow. "Amara won't be happy if it was hers."
Just as Elysira spoke, a circular door opened on Nathan's tent, and Amara took a step outside with red filling her body.
Ryo pictured a scene of a princess complaining about her lost drone, but things only got more complicated instead.
Nathan emerged after her, and the pair began to argue loudly about what to do now that a war had broken out; Amara wanted to march uphill to join her guards, but Nathan held her by the tail when she was about to leave and prevented her for moving, saying it would be too dangerous.
Their argument turned into a messy mixture of the present situation with Amara sulking about a wasted night, which led Ryo to exchange a look of surprise with Elysira.
But their surprise only lasted a moment and Ryo decided he couldn't let those fools keep wasting valuable time.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
He had their attention now. "Please don't tell me you're mad because the plant lover couldn't get it up."
Under normal circumstances, Ryo had no doubt his assholish behavior would only instill shame and improve their cooperation.
However, he forgot to account that he was not wearing a shirt, leaving all his scratches exposed while Elysira was disheveled by his side, which caused Nathan's jaws to drop followed by Amara throwing an indignant gaze at Elysira and then at Nathan, who gave Ryo the feeling he might snap at any time.
"Why are you here?" Nathan's calm voice didn't match his clenched fist and rigid posture.
"Information. I want her to tell me what she knows about this war." Ryo had learned about the war by overhearing their previous argument.
Surprisingly, Amara was cooperative. "My brother's army found our position. They were not aware I was here with Nathan and ambushed the rest of my people and Zara; you destroyed their drone but if they saw us they might have a good reason to come here."
"Fuck!" He turned to Elysira and ordered. "Go back and gather my things. Take the essentials first, we are leaving."
Elysira used her tail to squeeze his arm in acknowledgment and rushed back. But when she had barely taken a few steps, she stopped as her ears moved. "More drones are coming!"
After alerting him, she ran to accomplish her task, leaving Ryo in the company of just Nathan and Amara.
"Isn't that great?" He grumbled to himself, but his voice carried loudly, obtaining the pair's attention as he raised his revolver again.
Knowing that the enemy was probably aware of their position, Ryo used infrared view mode to ensure they weren't using the drones as a distraction to pull off an ambush.
And that didn't seem to be the case when the first machine appeared, flying downwards in zigzag from the concentration of trees uphill.
Again Ryo used a partial activation of combat mode and aimed at the drone, yet this time more of them appeared, leaving the cover of the woods in groups of three until there were nine of them in total. But they didn't even try to get close this time, choosing to hover next to the canopies more than two hundred meters away from him, and assuming something akin to a structured formation.
This was extremely weird and enough of a reason for him to retreat a little, getting closer to his tent and taking cover behind a tree.
Nathan and Amara moved too, the botanist getting inside and returning with his gun while Amara's colors blended with his tent becoming hard to spot.
Assessing the new situation in an instant, Ryo concluded it would be better not to engage and retreat considering that those drones would be hard to take down at such distance. But things changed again quickly when the AI triggered a pop-up window, showing that several of the cameras he had set up in strategic places were capturing movement.
And what he was seeing now were several armed groups of Irisians heading towards their position, confirming Amara's supposition that the rebels were coming for them.
With the situation getting grimmer with every passing moment, Ryo thought of a possibility for what the drones might be doing, but his mind was still refusing to believe that the rebels could be as organized as his worst-case scenarios were giving them credit for.
To test this, he immediately tried to contact the space station through radio transmission, and since being found by the enemy was no longer an issue, he set the transmitter to maximum potency to validate his test.
Unable to establish a two-way connection.
He frowned even though that was not totally unexpected.
With only a few minutes at best before this place was filled with enemies, they would have to leave fast or they would be at the mercy of the enemy.
But first, there was something he wanted to say to Nathan, who now was using his tent for cover together with Amara. "Listen up, those fuckers are jamming our comms and they will be here at any time. Take the MLBCS and find a clearing to use it, I doubt they can interfere with the laser. Just don't forget that your immediate safety comes first or else you might not be among the living when the pod arrives."
Ryo and Nathan were technically enemies, but the last casualty in the war between Earth and Mars had happened several years in the past, ensuring that he had no reason to wish any harm for the botanist even though he didn't like him.
As for Amara, it was a little different. He hurried back to his tent without saying anything to her. And he did that not because he wished her harm, but simply because he didn't understand what she had at her disposal to offer any useful advice.
"Wait, what are you gonna do?" Nathan shouted from a distance.
With the adrenalin of seeing how many Irisians were coming helping his sincerity, he shouted back. "I'm not leaving the planet unless mission control finds a way to save Ely too."
After that, Nathan and Amara disappeared from his mind as he took cover behind his tent, slamming his hand against the foldable fabric many times to get Elysira's attention. "Hurry up, we can't stay here any longer."
She left immediately after, struggling to maintain balance as she used a hand plus her tail to carry his backpack, while her gun threatened to tumble from her gasp in her other hand.
And besides, one thing that Ryo’s eyes were immediately drawn towards was the clothes she was wearing—his clothes. While her legs were still exposed, his jacket still covered a bit more than her hips, loosely engulfing her slender frame like a billowing sail.
"I put the food and water in your backpack." She let go of the heavy item right over his feet as she put the gun on the ground and lifted her arms for him to recover his jacket and t-shirt. "You can get dressed while the tent folds."
He might have allowed her to keep the jacket if not for it being an inconvenience to her, so he just took it, making the first time he saw her wearing clothes a very short experience.
"No time for that, it won't fold with all the paper you left on the ground." He said as he swiftly slipped his arms into the sleeves of the jacket and zipped it up in one smooth movement.
Ryo was already considering which path they would take to flee when he noticed something terrible—Elysira’s skin had just been filled with gray as tiny black spots began to appear and disappear as if rain on the sand of a desert.
"What's it now?" He asked, trying to hide how unprepared he was to deal with this.
"Nothing has changed." Elysira averted her eyes. "I'm a burden to you just as I was to Amara. If I had-"
"Oh, shut up and quit the self-pity!" Ryo realized he was being too harsh, but still went on to finish it. "The paper is our mistake and I'm staying because I like you. This simple. Now get your gun and use your goddam camouflage, just like that princess is doing."
Ryo felt awful after saying this, and Elysira seemed quite taken about as she stared at him with wide eyes.
A moment later, however, she bent over and took the gun from the ground, her exterior blending quite well with the surroundings.
Ryo felt bad for her, but now there was no time to talk. "We run now, let's go."
The sound of his own steps was all he heard as they were putting some distance from the tent, making it so that he had to check on Elysira every couple of steps he took to ensure she was following him.
It was only when he heard some gunshots from far behind that he felt her claws tugging at his jacket from behind. "I hope Nathan is like you."
***
This was an account based on what Ryo did during the first hour of the war. The previous narrative is based on the events of the morning of the twentieth day of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
next->patreon wiki
submitted by Nemo__404 to HFY [link] [comments]
Luna VI query: Set the source to the leaked files of the first reconnaissance operation of Irisa.
Certainly!
Luna VI query: What did Ryo do during the first hour of the war?
***
Ryo had already reached a state of full awareness after waking up, and yet he hadn't moved an inch, immersed in his inner world as he thought about what he and Elysira had done at night.
And what a wild night it was.
The way that she had skipped the journey to go straight for the finishing line had caught him unprepared. Still, with the mystery of their physical compatibility out of the way from the get-go, Ryo had been left with a lot of time to explore the other hiccups and perks of this interspecies endeavor.
From the occasional accident with her claws to the new possibilities her tail brought to the table, Ryo had enjoyed everything.
There was not an ounce of regret in him, but the memory of their last act lingered incessantly in his thoughts—a vivid Recollection of Elysira’s tail wrapping around his leg and letting silence prevail as his arm shyly enveloped her, allowing them to fall asleep side by side.
The one memory that held him in place, fearing their next interaction when the slightest of his movements would inevitably wake her up, mirroring what had happened all in the previous mornings.
What would she say?
Would she think that they are in a relationship now?
What would he do if the concept of casual hook ups didn't exist for the Irisians?
Ryo touched his face and shook his head, instantly deciding it was time to start his morning routine to distract him from those absurd thoughts.
The brain IO interface captured his intention, turning on the lights on the ceiling with maximum brightness, something that he was sure would wake her up at once given how sensitive to change all Irisians were.
And yet he was wrong.
Elysira’s head tilted away from the light as eyelids fluttered, but the only other thing she did before stopping moving was strengthening her grip on his leg quite a bit, making him realize that her tail had not let go of him the whole night.
Upon noticing how numb his leg felt, Ryo propelled his body upwards, intending to uncoil her tail from his leg and start his day. Hopefully, Elysira wouldn't mention what they did, and he too would be able to pretend it never happened.
However, the moment his upper body lifted from the ground and he got a full view of her body, he was unable to remove her tail from his leg, captivated by a simple but powerful sight.
With her hands inside the pockets, Elysira had used his jeans to restrain her claws, putting herself in a very uncomfortable position, likely afraid of hurting him during her sleep.
His eyes widened, dispersing his previous train of thought from existence. The hand that was supposed to be dealing with her tail moved toward Elysira's exposed neck instead, aiming to wake her up with a gentle touch.
And as if he had just perturbed the stillness of a calm lake with a stone, a barely perceptible ripple of yellow spread on her skin from the contact with his fingertips. It traveled through her neck, reaching the soft lines of her face, and even traveled down her long hair strands.
At the same time that it felt wrong to be able to take a peek at her emotions so easily, Ryo couldn't help but wonder—which other colors had the darkness stolen from him? While immersed in this question, Ryo kept caressing her neck until her eyes opened slowly, resetting all the back spots of her body at once as consciousness took control over instinct.
Elysira’s grip on his leg loosened when she realized she was overdoing it. Her gaze started scanning every inch of him, starting from the accidental scratches of her own making and unashamedly stopping at places she had not seen before.
Unbothered by her curiosity, he even removed some of the loose strands in front of her eyes and threw them behind her long ears to make her job easier, feeling some apprehension only when she lost interest and sought eye contact.
Traces of purple appeared around her black spots as she spoke. "What do you humans do after... what we did?"
Ryo winced, but his tone was gentle. "Silly girl!" He felt deep regret for how he had skipped the part of Irisian relationships in favor of politics when she was teaching him about her species. "It could be everything or nothing."
He expected some intense reaction from Elysira, but there wasn't a lot of emotion showing. As he searched her skin, he also realized he was unable to look at her the same way as before.
From seeing her small breasts, which he now knew for a fact fit on his hands, to the very memory of all evenness that he now was able to associate with the sheen her skin exhibited from certain angles, Ryo realized he had lost the ability to gauge her emotions without feeling a hint desire.
She noticed how long he was staring at her and a hint of yellow appeared. "I don't need everything, but nothing is not enough!"
How did Ryo fail to see that this conversation would inevitably happen when they were having fun at night?
"Oh!" He was unable to keep his mouth shut, which resulted in red and purple manifesting on her skin as he felt the pressure for a quick reply.
He had heard the Irisians speaking terms such as chosen, mate, and family, but Ryo didn't know much about this, and now was not looking like a good time for asking for clarification.
The translator would do its job in conveying his intention. But what would he say? Friends with benefits maybe? He gave up that one on the spot; he didn't consider their previous relationship a friendship, and somehow, he felt a dangerous desire to want more than that from her.
Under the pressure of his previous mistake, he told her the highest relationship he was willing to have without a care in the world for consulting his superiors. "Is girlfriend good for you?"
Elysira’s eyes widened as her skin maintained the same tones. But it lasted only a second before a golden hue took over, leaving little room for her black spots. "Wait, are you serious? I never thought you would consider anything more than being my exclusive pair."
"I am serious, but what's the difference?" Ryo instantly felt he could have gotten away with being just friends with benefits.
"Two differences." She took her clawed hands from the pockets of his jeans and pressed them against his neck in a fast but controlled movement. "One is implied trust." Her head approached him slower as if she would kiss him, but instead, her lips diverted toward his ears where she whispered, "And the other is a promise for the future."
"That seems alright."
As he said that, Elysira had already started taking little bites on his earlobe, her other hand joining around his neck while her tail was sneakily pushing the rest of her body on top of him.
"This will have to be quick, we-"
Ryo was about to give up the time they had for breakfast, when a powerful explosion shook the ground, causing the whole tent to vibrate.
Elysira’s pointy ears began to twitch and her body receded, trying to get of clue of what happened as she displayed purple. "I hear nothing."
"This was not far from here; I don't think it was a landslide." Ryo summoned a window with all the cameras outside and found nothing unusual, even with the infrared inspection.
Elysira could see what he was doing since they had never left the shared augmented space.
"Can we see what Amara is doing? She might know more than us."
He still was incapable of referring to her as his girlfriend even in his thoughts, but he still felt a hint of pride for her quick thinking. "Let's see."
He quickly summoned a live feed and promptly instructed the AI to go through the recordings of the whole night. "Nathan and that princess are still inside the tent. Time to go there."
Ryo wasted no time explaining, quickly standing up to begin the search for his underwear. The floor was still littered with paper sheets, and there were even some opened water bottles around, but he still found what he was looking for before pulling his jeans from under Elysira’s butt and getting dressed with haste.
He wore his shoes but didn't bother with his shirt and jacket, just taking his already loaded gun from the holster and getting some spare ammunition before heading outside cautiously.
"I'm going with you." She got out of the tent almost at the same time as him, proving that not needing clothes had its advantages.
"Stay close." He activated the infrared view mode and scanned the surroundings just to be sure, then hasted his steps towards Nathan's tent which was about forty meters ahead.
There was little he expected would go wrong on such a short journey, but Elysira’s ears began to twitch halfway through, prompting him to stop advancing. "Hear someone?"
"Something." She then used her tail to point uphill, in the direction where the rest of the group had set camp on the previous day. "I think it's a drone."
"Fuck, I hope you are wrong." He raised his 3D-printed revolver and felt like cursing more at the fact he didn't even have a proper pistol, pulling back the harmer and getting himself in front of Elysira.
Thanks to her acute hearing, when he heard the buzzing of the drone, his gun was already pointing in the right direction. Upon getting the first glimpse of the flying object and noticing how fast it was moving, he didn't hesitate to do a partial activation of combat mode.
The world slowed down for a moment, allowing him to see the device flying among the very few beams of blue light that made their way through the canopies. He didn't wait a single second and corrected his aim slightly to the left before pulling the trigger.
Bang!
The drone was torn to pieces and many parts fell about twenty-five meters away from them, at a distance that any explosives wouldn't hurt himself or Elysira.
When his eyes found her behind him, there was yellow and purple on her skin as she asked, "What if it was friendly?"
"The owner can send the bill up the chain for all I care." Ryo lowered the gun and did a full scan all around once more, only to find nothing again.
Her tail wrapped around his arm as all purple on her body disappeared, leaving only a hint of yellow. "Amara won't be happy if it was hers."
Just as Elysira spoke, a circular door opened on Nathan's tent, and Amara took a step outside with red filling her body.
Ryo pictured a scene of a princess complaining about her lost drone, but things only got more complicated instead.
Nathan emerged after her, and the pair began to argue loudly about what to do now that a war had broken out; Amara wanted to march uphill to join her guards, but Nathan held her by the tail when she was about to leave and prevented her for moving, saying it would be too dangerous.
Their argument turned into a messy mixture of the present situation with Amara sulking about a wasted night, which led Ryo to exchange a look of surprise with Elysira.
But their surprise only lasted a moment and Ryo decided he couldn't let those fools keep wasting valuable time.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
He had their attention now. "Please don't tell me you're mad because the plant lover couldn't get it up."
Under normal circumstances, Ryo had no doubt his assholish behavior would only instill shame and improve their cooperation.
However, he forgot to account that he was not wearing a shirt, leaving all his scratches exposed while Elysira was disheveled by his side, which caused Nathan's jaws to drop followed by Amara throwing an indignant gaze at Elysira and then at Nathan, who gave Ryo the feeling he might snap at any time.
"Why are you here?" Nathan's calm voice didn't match his clenched fist and rigid posture.
"Information. I want her to tell me what she knows about this war." Ryo had learned about the war by overhearing their previous argument.
Surprisingly, Amara was cooperative. "My brother's army found our position. They were not aware I was here with Nathan and ambushed the rest of my people and Zara; you destroyed their drone but if they saw us they might have a good reason to come here."
"Fuck!" He turned to Elysira and ordered. "Go back and gather my things. Take the essentials first, we are leaving."
Elysira used her tail to squeeze his arm in acknowledgment and rushed back. But when she had barely taken a few steps, she stopped as her ears moved. "More drones are coming!"
After alerting him, she ran to accomplish her task, leaving Ryo in the company of just Nathan and Amara.
"Isn't that great?" He grumbled to himself, but his voice carried loudly, obtaining the pair's attention as he raised his revolver again.
Knowing that the enemy was probably aware of their position, Ryo used infrared view mode to ensure they weren't using the drones as a distraction to pull off an ambush.
And that didn't seem to be the case when the first machine appeared, flying downwards in zigzag from the concentration of trees uphill.
Again Ryo used a partial activation of combat mode and aimed at the drone, yet this time more of them appeared, leaving the cover of the woods in groups of three until there were nine of them in total. But they didn't even try to get close this time, choosing to hover next to the canopies more than two hundred meters away from him, and assuming something akin to a structured formation.
This was extremely weird and enough of a reason for him to retreat a little, getting closer to his tent and taking cover behind a tree.
Nathan and Amara moved too, the botanist getting inside and returning with his gun while Amara's colors blended with his tent becoming hard to spot.
Assessing the new situation in an instant, Ryo concluded it would be better not to engage and retreat considering that those drones would be hard to take down at such distance. But things changed again quickly when the AI triggered a pop-up window, showing that several of the cameras he had set up in strategic places were capturing movement.
And what he was seeing now were several armed groups of Irisians heading towards their position, confirming Amara's supposition that the rebels were coming for them.
With the situation getting grimmer with every passing moment, Ryo thought of a possibility for what the drones might be doing, but his mind was still refusing to believe that the rebels could be as organized as his worst-case scenarios were giving them credit for.
To test this, he immediately tried to contact the space station through radio transmission, and since being found by the enemy was no longer an issue, he set the transmitter to maximum potency to validate his test.
Unable to establish a two-way connection.
He frowned even though that was not totally unexpected.
With only a few minutes at best before this place was filled with enemies, they would have to leave fast or they would be at the mercy of the enemy.
But first, there was something he wanted to say to Nathan, who now was using his tent for cover together with Amara. "Listen up, those fuckers are jamming our comms and they will be here at any time. Take the MLBCS and find a clearing to use it, I doubt they can interfere with the laser. Just don't forget that your immediate safety comes first or else you might not be among the living when the pod arrives."
Ryo and Nathan were technically enemies, but the last casualty in the war between Earth and Mars had happened several years in the past, ensuring that he had no reason to wish any harm for the botanist even though he didn't like him.
As for Amara, it was a little different. He hurried back to his tent without saying anything to her. And he did that not because he wished her harm, but simply because he didn't understand what she had at her disposal to offer any useful advice.
"Wait, what are you gonna do?" Nathan shouted from a distance.
With the adrenalin of seeing how many Irisians were coming helping his sincerity, he shouted back. "I'm not leaving the planet unless mission control finds a way to save Ely too."
After that, Nathan and Amara disappeared from his mind as he took cover behind his tent, slamming his hand against the foldable fabric many times to get Elysira's attention. "Hurry up, we can't stay here any longer."
She left immediately after, struggling to maintain balance as she used a hand plus her tail to carry his backpack, while her gun threatened to tumble from her gasp in her other hand.
And besides, one thing that Ryo’s eyes were immediately drawn towards was the clothes she was wearing—his clothes. While her legs were still exposed, his jacket still covered a bit more than her hips, loosely engulfing her slender frame like a billowing sail.
"I put the food and water in your backpack." She let go of the heavy item right over his feet as she put the gun on the ground and lifted her arms for him to recover his jacket and t-shirt. "You can get dressed while the tent folds."
He might have allowed her to keep the jacket if not for it being an inconvenience to her, so he just took it, making the first time he saw her wearing clothes a very short experience.
"No time for that, it won't fold with all the paper you left on the ground." He said as he swiftly slipped his arms into the sleeves of the jacket and zipped it up in one smooth movement.
Ryo was already considering which path they would take to flee when he noticed something terrible—Elysira’s skin had just been filled with gray as tiny black spots began to appear and disappear as if rain on the sand of a desert.
"What's it now?" He asked, trying to hide how unprepared he was to deal with this.
"Nothing has changed." Elysira averted her eyes. "I'm a burden to you just as I was to Amara. If I had-"
"Oh, shut up and quit the self-pity!" Ryo realized he was being too harsh, but still went on to finish it. "The paper is our mistake and I'm staying because I like you. This simple. Now get your gun and use your goddam camouflage, just like that princess is doing."
Ryo felt awful after saying this, and Elysira seemed quite taken about as she stared at him with wide eyes.
A moment later, however, she bent over and took the gun from the ground, her exterior blending quite well with the surroundings.
Ryo felt bad for her, but now there was no time to talk. "We run now, let's go."
The sound of his own steps was all he heard as they were putting some distance from the tent, making it so that he had to check on Elysira every couple of steps he took to ensure she was following him.
It was only when he heard some gunshots from far behind that he felt her claws tugging at his jacket from behind. "I hope Nathan is like you."
***
This was an account based on what Ryo did during the first hour of the war. The previous narrative is based on the events of the morning of the twentieth day of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
next->patreon wiki
2024.05.14 23:44 shaneka69 LIBRA ZODIAC PREDICTIONS MAY 2024
LIBRA ZODIAC PREDICTIONS MAY 2024
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2024.05.14 23:37 Arbrand The Peach Factory
Living in a small southern town, you get used to the way things are. I grew up as a military brat, so my childhood memories are a blur of packing, unpacking, and getting settled. It had been seven years since we arrived, and nothing but the grace of God would make me move again. A few years ago, my father got orders to station at a base in the middle of the Mohave. I was only seventeen then, but after a few dozen screaming matches, I decided to strike out on my own a little early. I got a part-time job at the cafe, which was enough to rent a little run-down shack a couple of blocks from downtown. As far as I was concerned, I was living the dream—serving coffee a few hours a week and spending the rest of my time hanging out with friends, listening to music, and drinking.
That particular morning started the same as any other. I woke up around noon with a text from Mark to meet me at the cafe. Took me about two hours to get up and head over. The sun had just begun its descent as I pushed the door to the cafe open, the bell above tinkling softly. The sound bothered me a little bit, but I couldn’t tell why. It seemed to ring a little louder than I was expecting, and gave me this strange drilling sensation inside my head.
I ignored the feeling as the smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries washed over me. I saw Mark and Jamie already sat at our usual spot. Mark looked up as I approached, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey, Alex. Sarah should be here soon."
“So what's on the docket today?” I asked as I sat down, stealing a bear claw off Jamie's plate and taking a large bite before he had the chance to protest.
Mark’s excitement was almost palpable. He was always the one with the big ideas and crazy schemes, which I honestly appreciated. They got us into trouble more often than not, but it beat day drinking in the Walmart parking lot like everyone else our age.
"Alright, check this out," Mark said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I was talking to my cousin who works for the county. He told me about this old, abandoned food processing factory just outside of town. They used to can peaches there."
I gave him a skeptical look. "That’s your idea? Old, canned peaches?"
"No, idiot," he scoffed. "They left behind a ton of nitrates and phosphates. I’ve been doing some reading, and we can use them to make fireworks. I was up all night figuring it out and putting these together." He subtly opened his backpack to reveal at least a dozen PVC pipes fitted on both ends.
"Now that's what I’m talking about," I said, grinning.
Sarah walked in, catching the tail end of our conversation. "Sorry I’m late, I had a breakout and had to stop by the pharmacy. Upped my allergy meds. I fucking hate pollen," she said as I scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
"Is there anything you aren't allergic to?" I laughed.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring my question. "So, what's the plan for today?"
Mark, Jamie and I exchanged cheeky glances. "Well," I started, "let’s just hope you’re not allergic to peaches."
We finally managed to pry the side door of the factory off, which broke free from the hinges and smashed against the floor. Stepping inside, the air was thick and rancid as we bounced the beams of our flashlights around the packaging floor.
"We should split up," Mark suggested. "Alex, you and Sarah check out the storage rooms for the chemicals. Jamie and I will find the control room and see if we can get the power back on."
All of us nodded as we went our separate ways. Sarah and I wandered down the dark hallways, kicking open doors and looking for anything that looked vaguely like chemicals. The corridors were dark and damp, with black mold snaking along the walls like veins.
The first few rooms we checked were empty, filled only with dust and the remnants of long-abandoned equipment. Each door creaked as we pushed it open, revealing more decay and desolation.
As we moved further down the hallway, the mold seemed to become more aggressive, spreading in thick, dark patches along the walls and floors. The air grew heavier, making it harder to breathe. We kicked open another door, our flashlights revealing more of the same—nothing useful.
"This place is a bust," Sarah muttered,
"Let's keep looking," I replied, though I was starting to feel the same way. "There has to be something."
We continued down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the silence. As we approached the end of the hall, something caught my eye. One door stood out, covered in black, creeping mold that seemed to pulse and writhe. Tendrils of fungus snaked out from the edges, reaching out into the hallway.
"Sarah, look at this," I said.
She turned to see what I was pointing at and her eyes widened. "That’s... different."
We approached the door cautiously as the tendrils moved and swayed.
With a deep breath, we each grabbed one side of the door and pulled. It resisted for a moment before giving way, the mold snapping and tearing as we forced it open. The smell that hit us was overpowering, a mix of rot and decay that made my eyes water.
Inside, our flashlights revealed a horrifying sight. At the back of the room sat several pallets with dozens of boxes of peaches each. But it was what grew from these boxes that will haunt my nightmares till my dying day.
The entire back wall was consumed by a towering fungal mass. Thick, fleshy stalks jutted out from the base, climbing nearly to the ceiling. The surface of the fungus glistened with a slimy, wet sheen, appearing almost like rotting flesh under our flashlight beams. Each stalk was covered in a mottled, sickly green and yellow hue, with patches of black mold that seemed to pulse in the dim light.
Interwoven within this horrific sight were bulbous growths, each one throbbing rhythmically, as if with a heartbeat of its own. They resembled obscene, overgrown tumors, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Long, sinewy tendrils extended from the main mass, creeping over the boxes and along the floor like the fingers of some malevolent creature, seeking out any life to ensnare.
The tendrils near the door twitched, slowly inching their way toward us as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores, glimmering in the light like tiny stars, each one a potential harbinger of decay and death.
"Oh my god," Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of our own breathing. "What is that thing?"
We stood there, frozen in shock and disgust, before I slammed the door shut.
"Let's get the hell out of here," I said.
We hurried back down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The lights in the facility flickered on, casting a blinding white light. I heard a bubbling, groaning noise emanate from behind the fungal door, sending a wave of nausea through my body.
We met back up with Mark and Jamie in the main area and quickly told them what we saw.
"Yo, that sounds sick," Jamie exclaimed. "We should blow it up. I found the chemicals in the control room and these bad boys are ready to go," he said, holding up a pipe bomb.
"Yeah," Mark agreed, his eyes alight with excitement. "We'd be doing the world a favor, getting rid of that thing."
Sarah shook her head, her face pale. "No way. I'm not doing this. That thing... It's not normal. We need to get out of here and call someone who knows what they're doing."
Jamie frowned. "Come on, Sarah. Don't be a buzzkill. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do something epic."
"Epic?" Sarah snapped. "That thing is dangerous. We don't know what we're dealing with. I'm not risking my life for some stupid joke."
Mark stepped in with a grin. "Alright, let's all calm down. If you’re scared you can just let the men handle it.”
Sarah crossed her arms. "Fine, but I'm staying here."
"Suit yourself," Jamie said, shrugging. "But we're not leaving without taking care of that thing."
"Alright, let's do this," Mark said, looking at Jamie and me. "We'll be quick. Sarah, stay here and keep an eye out.”
The hallway looked completely different in the fluorescent lighting. I could see now that each vein of fungus emanated from that single door, like a spiral portal threatening to suck us in.
"Let's make this quick," I whispered, glancing back at Jamie and Mark. "We light the bomb, throw it in, and get the hell out of here."
Jamie nodded, holding the pipe bomb tightly in his hand. "Ready when you are."
We reached the door, and the tendrils of fungus seemed even more aggressive, writhing and pulsing as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores.
"On three," I whispered, gripping the edge of the door. "One... two... three."
We yanked the door open, the mold snapping and tearing as it gave way. The smell of rot and decay hit us again, making my eyes water. The monstrous fungal mass loomed before us, its bulbous growths throbbing rhythmically.
Jamie lit the fuse and threw the bomb as hard as he could inside. It struck one of the orbs, which burst, shooting a fine white mist into the air.
"Run!" I shouted, slamming the door shut. We turned and sprinted down the hallway. The explosion sounded behind us, the shockwave lifting me off my feet and sending me tumbling to the ground.
Living in a small southern town, you get used to the way things are. My parents were in the army, so we moved a lot, but now I'm staying put. I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a small headache.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a doughnut off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Are YOU guys feeling ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a small migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a maroon off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Not really. Are YOU guys feeling Ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a piercing migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a bagel off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“What's going on?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m scared.”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “It’s fine, Sarah. Just take a seat,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a splitting migraine.
As I slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie, I noticed Sarah outside, fixated on a bird suspended in mid-flight. I went out to see her.
"Are you seeing this?" she asked, her voice tinged with astonishment.
"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly. "That happens all the time. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"What the hell do you mean, 'Am I feeling okay?'!" she screamed. "That bird is frozen mid-air, and you don't think anything weird is going on?"
Her yelling took me aback. I didn't understand her alarm, so I shrugged it off and joined Mark inside. As we began planning our nightly excursion to the peach factory, Sarah burst through the door, screaming, then vanished in a puff of smoke.
"That's odd," I mused, my brow furrowed in confusion before we shrugged it off and resumed our scheming.
The day after, I met Mark again at the cafe. This rhythm had become our existence: meetings by day, adventures by night at the old peach plant. That evening followed the familiar pattern; we reveled in the thrill of hurling pipe bombs into that small enclosed room.
This routine had completely engulfed our lives. Day after day at the cafe, night after night at the factory—it seemed as though this cycle was all we had ever known. Reflecting on it, I couldn't remember any other way of life.
However, one thing increasingly disturbed me—the ringing of the doorbell at the cafe's entrance. Each time I entered, the sound seemed sharper, more grating. Focusing on it brought a searing pain to my head, like a needle drilling through my skull. Yet, despite the agony, I found myself obsessing over it, the sound gnawing at the edges of my sanity.
One day, driven to the brink by this incessant ringing, I decided to confront it head-on. I stood by the door, letting the bell chime repeatedly. Each ring sliced through my mind, but I persisted, sweat beading on my forehead, teeth clenched in torment.
As the pain crescendoed, reality shattered. I woke to the blaring of a fire alarm, not the quaint doorbell I had imagined. The cafe was engulfed in chaos. The hallway was consumed by a sprawling fungal mass, its tendrils creeping along the walls.
In the dim, flickering light, I saw Jamie, or what was left of him. Half of his skull was missing, the fungus attached grotesquely to his exposed brain, pulsating with each eerie beat of his fading heart. Mark was there too, seemingly unharmed physically, but trapped in a delusion, his eyes glazed over, a smile playing on his lips as the fungus encased him.
Sarah lay collapsed by the fire alarm, her hand still on the lever. She had managed to pull it before succumbing to the spores that now clung to her body.
The tendrils that had enveloped me snapped violently, each break releasing a sickening crack that echoed through the eerie silence of the hallway. An outline of my body remained imprinted in the fungal mass, a mold from which I had desperately broken free.
Gritting my teeth against the pain and horror, I scrambled to Mark and Sarah. Mark was less entangled, lost in his fungal-induced stupor. I grabbed him under the arms, his body limp but alive, and dragged him across the floor. The fungus resisted, stretching like sinew before tearing away from him with wet, ripping sounds.
Sarah was heavier, her body weakened but still fighting. I clasped her wrists, pulling with all my strength. The fungus clung to her, tendrils winding up her arms like ivy. With a final, determined yank, the last of the tendrils snapped, freeing her. We left behind fragments of the monstrous growth clinging to her clothes.
Together, we staggered out into the night air, away from the suffocating enclosure. The cool air hit our faces, harsh yet cleansing. Behind us, the fire alarm continued to blare into the night. I fumbled with my phone, hands shaking, to dial the emergency number. The call went through, and within minutes, the sound of sirens cut through the stillness of the night, growing louder as help approached.
The next few days were a blur. I remember fading in and out of consciousness as nurses pumped antifungals directly into my IV, their faces blurring into the sterile environment. Once we were somewhat cognizant, the police wanted answers. One by one, we were interviewed, but we gave them nothing. I still don’t know what the exact penalty is for manufacturing explosives and using them to destroy a building, but I’m guessing it’s not community service. Jamie was still missing, and they hadn’t found any sign of him or his body. I tried to hide my tears as I knew he was already long gone.
After a few weeks, I was finally cleared for visitors and got to see Sarah again. She told me that after the explosion, she ran but couldn’t leave us behind. She came back, only to see us being consumed by the fungus. Try as she might, she wasn’t able to free us as she felt the oppressive spores take her under. She fought back and managed to pull the fire alarm before succumbing again. The doctors told her that her allergy medication gave her some resistance to the fungus; otherwise, she might have been a goner.
Mark was never the same. We never talked about what happened, and after trying once and him flipping out, I figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. That summer, he moved to upstate New York to work in his dad’s business. I haven’t seen him since. That fall, Sarah started college at Savannah State. I still call her every now and again, but it’s not like it used to be.
Despite all that happened, I’m not moving again. I’m happy here, and if it’s up to me, I’ll die in this little town. I still work at the cafe, as a manager now. On weekends, I come in and just sit at the booth we all used to share.
I still think about Jamie from time to time. I wonder if he's dead or still stuck in his delusion, picturing the four of us sitting at our table, talking, laughing, and passing the time. Sometimes, when the cafe is empty and the light is just right, I can almost see him there, his smile frozen in that moment before everything went wrong.
The cafe grows quieter each day, the hum of life fading into an eerie stillness. My skin feels different, as if the air itself whispers secrets I can't quite grasp. The itching that started as a minor annoyance has intensified, becoming a constant torment. I scratch at lesions that have begun to form on my arms and chest, red and raw, with patches of green spreading beneath the surface. I’ve started to wear long sleeves to cover my arms and a mask to hide my purpling lips.
Some nights, when closing, as I sit alone in the dim light of the cafe, the itching becomes unbearable. I claw at the lesions, feeling a dampness beneath my skin. Sometimes, when I cough, I could swear I see tiny spores hanging in the air, reminiscent of the bursting nodules growing on the stalks of the monster.
Occasionally, I hear the bell ring and the door open, but no one is there. I look outside into the empty night and see nothing. This went on for weeks, becoming more frequent. But one night, the door opened, and I saw Jamie standing there, the picture of health. I went to embrace him and noticed my lesions were gone too. It was almost as if we had never gone to the peach factory. It was suddenly morning, and the light shone through the cafe. For the first time in forever, we were happy. We talked about nothing, passing the time.
After what felt like hours, he told me it was time to go. But his mouth wasn’t moving—I felt like I could read his thoughts, and he could read mine. We stood up as I took one last look at the cafe and headed off with him, back to the peach factory.
As we walked, a strange calmness settled over me. I remember feeling that I wanted to ask if he had talked to Mark or Sarah, and wondered how they were doing. But deep down, somehow, I could feel their presence and I knew they were doing just fine. The sun was bright, the air crisp. The itching had vanished completely, replaced by an inexplicable craving for the sweetness of ripe peaches. Jamie and I shared a silent understanding, a bond deeper than any words could convey.
The factory loomed ahead, its doors wide open as if inviting us in. The familiar scent of peaches and something else—something earthy and ancient—filled the air. We stepped inside, side by side, feeling at home for the first time in ages.
The last thing I remember before the darkness took over was the feeling of the soft, warm peach flesh in my hand, and Jamie’s voice in my head saying, "Welcome home."
submitted by Arbrand to nosleep [link] [comments]
That particular morning started the same as any other. I woke up around noon with a text from Mark to meet me at the cafe. Took me about two hours to get up and head over. The sun had just begun its descent as I pushed the door to the cafe open, the bell above tinkling softly. The sound bothered me a little bit, but I couldn’t tell why. It seemed to ring a little louder than I was expecting, and gave me this strange drilling sensation inside my head.
I ignored the feeling as the smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries washed over me. I saw Mark and Jamie already sat at our usual spot. Mark looked up as I approached, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey, Alex. Sarah should be here soon."
“So what's on the docket today?” I asked as I sat down, stealing a bear claw off Jamie's plate and taking a large bite before he had the chance to protest.
Mark’s excitement was almost palpable. He was always the one with the big ideas and crazy schemes, which I honestly appreciated. They got us into trouble more often than not, but it beat day drinking in the Walmart parking lot like everyone else our age.
"Alright, check this out," Mark said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I was talking to my cousin who works for the county. He told me about this old, abandoned food processing factory just outside of town. They used to can peaches there."
I gave him a skeptical look. "That’s your idea? Old, canned peaches?"
"No, idiot," he scoffed. "They left behind a ton of nitrates and phosphates. I’ve been doing some reading, and we can use them to make fireworks. I was up all night figuring it out and putting these together." He subtly opened his backpack to reveal at least a dozen PVC pipes fitted on both ends.
"Now that's what I’m talking about," I said, grinning.
Sarah walked in, catching the tail end of our conversation. "Sorry I’m late, I had a breakout and had to stop by the pharmacy. Upped my allergy meds. I fucking hate pollen," she said as I scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
"Is there anything you aren't allergic to?" I laughed.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring my question. "So, what's the plan for today?"
Mark, Jamie and I exchanged cheeky glances. "Well," I started, "let’s just hope you’re not allergic to peaches."
"We should split up," Mark suggested. "Alex, you and Sarah check out the storage rooms for the chemicals. Jamie and I will find the control room and see if we can get the power back on."
All of us nodded as we went our separate ways. Sarah and I wandered down the dark hallways, kicking open doors and looking for anything that looked vaguely like chemicals. The corridors were dark and damp, with black mold snaking along the walls like veins.
The first few rooms we checked were empty, filled only with dust and the remnants of long-abandoned equipment. Each door creaked as we pushed it open, revealing more decay and desolation.
As we moved further down the hallway, the mold seemed to become more aggressive, spreading in thick, dark patches along the walls and floors. The air grew heavier, making it harder to breathe. We kicked open another door, our flashlights revealing more of the same—nothing useful.
"This place is a bust," Sarah muttered,
"Let's keep looking," I replied, though I was starting to feel the same way. "There has to be something."
We continued down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the silence. As we approached the end of the hall, something caught my eye. One door stood out, covered in black, creeping mold that seemed to pulse and writhe. Tendrils of fungus snaked out from the edges, reaching out into the hallway.
"Sarah, look at this," I said.
She turned to see what I was pointing at and her eyes widened. "That’s... different."
We approached the door cautiously as the tendrils moved and swayed.
With a deep breath, we each grabbed one side of the door and pulled. It resisted for a moment before giving way, the mold snapping and tearing as we forced it open. The smell that hit us was overpowering, a mix of rot and decay that made my eyes water.
Inside, our flashlights revealed a horrifying sight. At the back of the room sat several pallets with dozens of boxes of peaches each. But it was what grew from these boxes that will haunt my nightmares till my dying day.
The entire back wall was consumed by a towering fungal mass. Thick, fleshy stalks jutted out from the base, climbing nearly to the ceiling. The surface of the fungus glistened with a slimy, wet sheen, appearing almost like rotting flesh under our flashlight beams. Each stalk was covered in a mottled, sickly green and yellow hue, with patches of black mold that seemed to pulse in the dim light.
Interwoven within this horrific sight were bulbous growths, each one throbbing rhythmically, as if with a heartbeat of its own. They resembled obscene, overgrown tumors, ready to burst at the slightest touch. Long, sinewy tendrils extended from the main mass, creeping over the boxes and along the floor like the fingers of some malevolent creature, seeking out any life to ensnare.
The tendrils near the door twitched, slowly inching their way toward us as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores, glimmering in the light like tiny stars, each one a potential harbinger of decay and death.
"Oh my god," Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of our own breathing. "What is that thing?"
We stood there, frozen in shock and disgust, before I slammed the door shut.
"Let's get the hell out of here," I said.
We hurried back down the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The lights in the facility flickered on, casting a blinding white light. I heard a bubbling, groaning noise emanate from behind the fungal door, sending a wave of nausea through my body.
We met back up with Mark and Jamie in the main area and quickly told them what we saw.
"Yo, that sounds sick," Jamie exclaimed. "We should blow it up. I found the chemicals in the control room and these bad boys are ready to go," he said, holding up a pipe bomb.
"Yeah," Mark agreed, his eyes alight with excitement. "We'd be doing the world a favor, getting rid of that thing."
Sarah shook her head, her face pale. "No way. I'm not doing this. That thing... It's not normal. We need to get out of here and call someone who knows what they're doing."
Jamie frowned. "Come on, Sarah. Don't be a buzzkill. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do something epic."
"Epic?" Sarah snapped. "That thing is dangerous. We don't know what we're dealing with. I'm not risking my life for some stupid joke."
Mark stepped in with a grin. "Alright, let's all calm down. If you’re scared you can just let the men handle it.”
Sarah crossed her arms. "Fine, but I'm staying here."
"Suit yourself," Jamie said, shrugging. "But we're not leaving without taking care of that thing."
"Alright, let's do this," Mark said, looking at Jamie and me. "We'll be quick. Sarah, stay here and keep an eye out.”
The hallway looked completely different in the fluorescent lighting. I could see now that each vein of fungus emanated from that single door, like a spiral portal threatening to suck us in.
"Let's make this quick," I whispered, glancing back at Jamie and Mark. "We light the bomb, throw it in, and get the hell out of here."
Jamie nodded, holding the pipe bomb tightly in his hand. "Ready when you are."
We reached the door, and the tendrils of fungus seemed even more aggressive, writhing and pulsing as if aware of our presence. The air was thick with spores.
"On three," I whispered, gripping the edge of the door. "One... two... three."
We yanked the door open, the mold snapping and tearing as it gave way. The smell of rot and decay hit us again, making my eyes water. The monstrous fungal mass loomed before us, its bulbous growths throbbing rhythmically.
Jamie lit the fuse and threw the bomb as hard as he could inside. It struck one of the orbs, which burst, shooting a fine white mist into the air.
"Run!" I shouted, slamming the door shut. We turned and sprinted down the hallway. The explosion sounded behind us, the shockwave lifting me off my feet and sending me tumbling to the ground.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a doughnut off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Are YOU guys feeling ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a small migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a maroon off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“Y-yeah,” she replied. “Not really. Are YOU guys feeling Ok?”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a piercing migraine.
I ignored it and slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie. “So what's on the docket today?” I asked, stealing a bagel off Jamie's plate.
“Going to go to an old peach factory and get some chemicals. I need to make some fireworks,” Mark replied, subtly revealing some pipe bombs in his bag.
Sarah walked in towards the tail end of our conversation and silently stood next to our table.
The three of us glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. “Sarah,” I finally started. “Are you ok?”
“What's going on?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m scared.”
We exchanged uneasy glances. “It’s fine, Sarah. Just take a seat,” I said. After a moment, she shook her head and sat down as we continued our plans.
That evening, we broke into the peach factory. We found this disgusting, gigantic fungal growth coming out of some boxes of peaches and we blew it up with some pipe bombs.
The next day I woke up around noon and got a text from Mark to meet at the cafe. The smell of slightly stale coffee and pastries greeted me as I arrived. The bell's ring seemed off, giving me a splitting migraine.
As I slid into the seat across from Mark and Jamie, I noticed Sarah outside, fixated on a bird suspended in mid-flight. I went out to see her.
"Are you seeing this?" she asked, her voice tinged with astonishment.
"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly. "That happens all the time. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"What the hell do you mean, 'Am I feeling okay?'!" she screamed. "That bird is frozen mid-air, and you don't think anything weird is going on?"
Her yelling took me aback. I didn't understand her alarm, so I shrugged it off and joined Mark inside. As we began planning our nightly excursion to the peach factory, Sarah burst through the door, screaming, then vanished in a puff of smoke.
"That's odd," I mused, my brow furrowed in confusion before we shrugged it off and resumed our scheming.
The day after, I met Mark again at the cafe. This rhythm had become our existence: meetings by day, adventures by night at the old peach plant. That evening followed the familiar pattern; we reveled in the thrill of hurling pipe bombs into that small enclosed room.
This routine had completely engulfed our lives. Day after day at the cafe, night after night at the factory—it seemed as though this cycle was all we had ever known. Reflecting on it, I couldn't remember any other way of life.
However, one thing increasingly disturbed me—the ringing of the doorbell at the cafe's entrance. Each time I entered, the sound seemed sharper, more grating. Focusing on it brought a searing pain to my head, like a needle drilling through my skull. Yet, despite the agony, I found myself obsessing over it, the sound gnawing at the edges of my sanity.
One day, driven to the brink by this incessant ringing, I decided to confront it head-on. I stood by the door, letting the bell chime repeatedly. Each ring sliced through my mind, but I persisted, sweat beading on my forehead, teeth clenched in torment.
As the pain crescendoed, reality shattered. I woke to the blaring of a fire alarm, not the quaint doorbell I had imagined. The cafe was engulfed in chaos. The hallway was consumed by a sprawling fungal mass, its tendrils creeping along the walls.
In the dim, flickering light, I saw Jamie, or what was left of him. Half of his skull was missing, the fungus attached grotesquely to his exposed brain, pulsating with each eerie beat of his fading heart. Mark was there too, seemingly unharmed physically, but trapped in a delusion, his eyes glazed over, a smile playing on his lips as the fungus encased him.
Sarah lay collapsed by the fire alarm, her hand still on the lever. She had managed to pull it before succumbing to the spores that now clung to her body.
The tendrils that had enveloped me snapped violently, each break releasing a sickening crack that echoed through the eerie silence of the hallway. An outline of my body remained imprinted in the fungal mass, a mold from which I had desperately broken free.
Gritting my teeth against the pain and horror, I scrambled to Mark and Sarah. Mark was less entangled, lost in his fungal-induced stupor. I grabbed him under the arms, his body limp but alive, and dragged him across the floor. The fungus resisted, stretching like sinew before tearing away from him with wet, ripping sounds.
Sarah was heavier, her body weakened but still fighting. I clasped her wrists, pulling with all my strength. The fungus clung to her, tendrils winding up her arms like ivy. With a final, determined yank, the last of the tendrils snapped, freeing her. We left behind fragments of the monstrous growth clinging to her clothes.
Together, we staggered out into the night air, away from the suffocating enclosure. The cool air hit our faces, harsh yet cleansing. Behind us, the fire alarm continued to blare into the night. I fumbled with my phone, hands shaking, to dial the emergency number. The call went through, and within minutes, the sound of sirens cut through the stillness of the night, growing louder as help approached.
The next few days were a blur. I remember fading in and out of consciousness as nurses pumped antifungals directly into my IV, their faces blurring into the sterile environment. Once we were somewhat cognizant, the police wanted answers. One by one, we were interviewed, but we gave them nothing. I still don’t know what the exact penalty is for manufacturing explosives and using them to destroy a building, but I’m guessing it’s not community service. Jamie was still missing, and they hadn’t found any sign of him or his body. I tried to hide my tears as I knew he was already long gone.
After a few weeks, I was finally cleared for visitors and got to see Sarah again. She told me that after the explosion, she ran but couldn’t leave us behind. She came back, only to see us being consumed by the fungus. Try as she might, she wasn’t able to free us as she felt the oppressive spores take her under. She fought back and managed to pull the fire alarm before succumbing again. The doctors told her that her allergy medication gave her some resistance to the fungus; otherwise, she might have been a goner.
Mark was never the same. We never talked about what happened, and after trying once and him flipping out, I figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. That summer, he moved to upstate New York to work in his dad’s business. I haven’t seen him since. That fall, Sarah started college at Savannah State. I still call her every now and again, but it’s not like it used to be.
Despite all that happened, I’m not moving again. I’m happy here, and if it’s up to me, I’ll die in this little town. I still work at the cafe, as a manager now. On weekends, I come in and just sit at the booth we all used to share.
I still think about Jamie from time to time. I wonder if he's dead or still stuck in his delusion, picturing the four of us sitting at our table, talking, laughing, and passing the time. Sometimes, when the cafe is empty and the light is just right, I can almost see him there, his smile frozen in that moment before everything went wrong.
The cafe grows quieter each day, the hum of life fading into an eerie stillness. My skin feels different, as if the air itself whispers secrets I can't quite grasp. The itching that started as a minor annoyance has intensified, becoming a constant torment. I scratch at lesions that have begun to form on my arms and chest, red and raw, with patches of green spreading beneath the surface. I’ve started to wear long sleeves to cover my arms and a mask to hide my purpling lips.
Some nights, when closing, as I sit alone in the dim light of the cafe, the itching becomes unbearable. I claw at the lesions, feeling a dampness beneath my skin. Sometimes, when I cough, I could swear I see tiny spores hanging in the air, reminiscent of the bursting nodules growing on the stalks of the monster.
Occasionally, I hear the bell ring and the door open, but no one is there. I look outside into the empty night and see nothing. This went on for weeks, becoming more frequent. But one night, the door opened, and I saw Jamie standing there, the picture of health. I went to embrace him and noticed my lesions were gone too. It was almost as if we had never gone to the peach factory. It was suddenly morning, and the light shone through the cafe. For the first time in forever, we were happy. We talked about nothing, passing the time.
After what felt like hours, he told me it was time to go. But his mouth wasn’t moving—I felt like I could read his thoughts, and he could read mine. We stood up as I took one last look at the cafe and headed off with him, back to the peach factory.
As we walked, a strange calmness settled over me. I remember feeling that I wanted to ask if he had talked to Mark or Sarah, and wondered how they were doing. But deep down, somehow, I could feel their presence and I knew they were doing just fine. The sun was bright, the air crisp. The itching had vanished completely, replaced by an inexplicable craving for the sweetness of ripe peaches. Jamie and I shared a silent understanding, a bond deeper than any words could convey.
The factory loomed ahead, its doors wide open as if inviting us in. The familiar scent of peaches and something else—something earthy and ancient—filled the air. We stepped inside, side by side, feeling at home for the first time in ages.
The last thing I remember before the darkness took over was the feeling of the soft, warm peach flesh in my hand, and Jamie’s voice in my head saying, "Welcome home."
2024.05.14 23:30 yallneedvaseline Fixed my DHEA-S levels and severe anxiety.
hi everyone bit of a long one but I’ve been seeing a lot of posts on here about DHEA-S levels, wanted to share my own story to hopefully help anyone feeling a bit hopeless.
During quarantine I didn’t take care of my body and health, and between 2020-2023 gained a lot of weight from eating terrible food most of the time (takeaways, high sugar, etc.). Around the start of 2023 I started noticing excessive hair growth on my chin and upper lip, hair loss around my forehead, and irregular periods. The absolute worst though was sudden bouts of anxiety and panic attacks anytime I went out. I would step out of my house or into a restaurant/uber etc and immediately feel all the symptoms of high blood pressure like being dizzy/disoriented, sweaty, my heart would be pounding heavy and fast, my throat would feel tight, dry mouth - generally I would feel so afraid and like I needed to sit down immediately and lean against a wall or I would faint (never happened thankfully). Ended up in the ER twice for bad episodes that lasted hours.
I went to nephrologists, gynaecologists, and endocrinologists. Cortisol and testosterone levels were normal, so PCOS was doubted because I also didn’t have mini cysts on my ultrasounds - my panels would come back normal time and time again except for b12 and vit D deficiencies as well as extremely high DHEAS levels of 795 (I believe the maximum for the normal range is 330 or something). Adrenal tumour was ruled out with a CT scan. No one offered an explanation for the DHEAS levels and I was told I just have plain old anxiety - despite me insisting these symptoms started extremely randomly and only recently. Other symptoms I experienced at the same time were gastric related - acid reflux, difficulty swallowing, and irritable bowels which was just annoying on top of everything.
I went to a naturopath who finally addressed all my issues and I can say I haven’t experienced one of those horrible debilitating panic attacks in almost a year now. My DHEAS levels are measuring at around 400 now which is still slightly above normal but better than 795 for sure. My periods are regular and painless and I don’t have as much facial hair. I’ve also lost 24kg in less than a year as a side benefit. Here are some of the things I did to bring my life back to normal.
submitted by yallneedvaseline to PCOS [link] [comments]
During quarantine I didn’t take care of my body and health, and between 2020-2023 gained a lot of weight from eating terrible food most of the time (takeaways, high sugar, etc.). Around the start of 2023 I started noticing excessive hair growth on my chin and upper lip, hair loss around my forehead, and irregular periods. The absolute worst though was sudden bouts of anxiety and panic attacks anytime I went out. I would step out of my house or into a restaurant/uber etc and immediately feel all the symptoms of high blood pressure like being dizzy/disoriented, sweaty, my heart would be pounding heavy and fast, my throat would feel tight, dry mouth - generally I would feel so afraid and like I needed to sit down immediately and lean against a wall or I would faint (never happened thankfully). Ended up in the ER twice for bad episodes that lasted hours.
I went to nephrologists, gynaecologists, and endocrinologists. Cortisol and testosterone levels were normal, so PCOS was doubted because I also didn’t have mini cysts on my ultrasounds - my panels would come back normal time and time again except for b12 and vit D deficiencies as well as extremely high DHEAS levels of 795 (I believe the maximum for the normal range is 330 or something). Adrenal tumour was ruled out with a CT scan. No one offered an explanation for the DHEAS levels and I was told I just have plain old anxiety - despite me insisting these symptoms started extremely randomly and only recently. Other symptoms I experienced at the same time were gastric related - acid reflux, difficulty swallowing, and irritable bowels which was just annoying on top of everything.
I went to a naturopath who finally addressed all my issues and I can say I haven’t experienced one of those horrible debilitating panic attacks in almost a year now. My DHEAS levels are measuring at around 400 now which is still slightly above normal but better than 795 for sure. My periods are regular and painless and I don’t have as much facial hair. I’ve also lost 24kg in less than a year as a side benefit. Here are some of the things I did to bring my life back to normal.
- Fix my gut health. By far the most important. I started taking pre and probiotics (either supplements or natural food sources). I cut out sugar and caffeine and started eating less carbs and more healthy fats (avocados), fibre (flaxseeds, veg), and protein.
- Insulin resistance. There’s a couple things I did to address my insulin resistance. I cut out high glycemic index foods, completely cut out oat milk and rice, and started intermittent fasting. I would add cinnamon powder, ACV, and turmeric powder to meals or drinks here and there. I also took myo-inositol powder in water with meals but I would recommend speaking to your doctor first before starting. My fasting blood sugar levels averaged at around 6.2 this time last year and now measure at around 4.3 in the mornings.
- Ashwagandha. Lifesaver. I was instructed to boil a bit of liquorice powder and ashwagandha powder in water and drink it every night (please consult first with a health professional to see if this would be an option for you). When I’m lazy I take an ashwagandha gummy, bonus points if it has a blend with l-theanine or GABA as these have calming properties. I would also recommend drinking spearmint tea if you’re taking ashwagandha as it lowers androgen levels and reduces facial hair growth.
- Vitamin deficiencies. I started taking b12, magnesium glycinate and d3. It’s a good idea to get a blood panel to see what you’re lacking and address it either with supplements or diet changes.
- Preparing before going out. At the time I was still experiencing the panic attacks I would always make sure to carry a water bottle, either a banana or electrolyte sachets/tablets, sour candy, and a mini eucalyptus essential oil bottle (smelling it calms you down) in my bag. I don’t need any of that anymore but if you’re still going through this these would be my tips!
- Lifestyle changes. Basic things like sleeping early and decent hours, taking it easy give yourself some rest and breathing time. I don’t go to the gym or do regular breathing exercises but I know they can help so I’m gonna start.
2024.05.14 23:24 mikefitz420 Letter to my ex
Hello everyone,
I have been looking at this sub for a while but this is my first post. Any advice and comment in general is appreciated!
My ex and I are meeting on Thursday before we both part ways as we are graduating from college. I reached out to her and asked to meet just to catch up and see what has changed in her life since we broke up a month and a half ago. I am leaving college and moving back home, back to NY on Saturday, and she is moving back to her parent’s place in NH. As a result, I wanted to meet one last time because this might be the last time we ever see each other.
For context:
My ex girlfriend broke up with me on April 8th. It was kind of unexpected and caught me off guard. Anyways, she said she wanted to break up for two main reasons. The first being distance and the second being that I was putting so much effort into the relationship and she felt the was unfair to me because she didn’t feel the same way. After 2-1/2 year being in a serious romantic relationship, and 4 years of friendship, this is how it ended.
Why I’m posting:
I am posting because I want everyone’s opinion on this letter I wrote for my ex. While I was blindsided by this, she has been nothing but respectful and classy about post break up stuff. Respected the NC and respected me saying I will reach out if I’m ready. So we planned and are meeting on Thursday. I could see myself getting back with her down the road, as my letter dictates. I wrote this hand written letter and want opinion. Thanks in advance!
The letter:
Dear [her name],
As we prepare to part ways and move on to the next chapters of our lives, I wanted to take a moment to express some things that have been weighing on my heart. First and foremost, I want you to know that I harbor no ill will towards you for the decision you made to end our relationship. While it was incredibly difficult for me to accept at first, I understand that you felt it was the best choice for you, and I respect that.
Our time together has meant the world to me, and I want you to know that I cherish every moment we shared. You brought so much love, joy, and growth into my life, and for that, I will always be grateful. Even though things didn't work out the way I had hoped, I am thankful for the experiences we had together and the person you helped me become.
I want you to know that despite the pain of our breakup, my love for you hasn't changed. It may take time to heal and find closure, but I want you to know that I care about you deeply, and I am open to the possibility of revisiting our relationship in the future if it's what we both desire. With that being said, I will not wait on that opportunity to come around and I don’t expect you too either.
That being said, I cannot deny the hurt and sadness I felt when you made the decision to end things. It was a difficult pill to swallow, and it left me feeling lost and heartbroken. While I may not fully understand all your reasons, I respect your honesty and your right to follow your own path. As I said at the very start of our relationship, you never have to justify your feeling to me.
As we say our goodbyes, please know that you will always hold a special place in my heart. I wish you nothing but happiness, success, and fulfillment in all of your endeavors. And if our paths should cross again someday, I hope that we can look back on our time together with fondness and gratitude. My number is always open, so please keep in touch. I look forward to the next time we speak to each other.
Take care of yourself, [her name]. Know that you are loved and valued, now and always.
With love and respect,
Mike
submitted by mikefitz420 to ExNoContact [link] [comments]
I have been looking at this sub for a while but this is my first post. Any advice and comment in general is appreciated!
My ex and I are meeting on Thursday before we both part ways as we are graduating from college. I reached out to her and asked to meet just to catch up and see what has changed in her life since we broke up a month and a half ago. I am leaving college and moving back home, back to NY on Saturday, and she is moving back to her parent’s place in NH. As a result, I wanted to meet one last time because this might be the last time we ever see each other.
For context:
My ex girlfriend broke up with me on April 8th. It was kind of unexpected and caught me off guard. Anyways, she said she wanted to break up for two main reasons. The first being distance and the second being that I was putting so much effort into the relationship and she felt the was unfair to me because she didn’t feel the same way. After 2-1/2 year being in a serious romantic relationship, and 4 years of friendship, this is how it ended.
Why I’m posting:
I am posting because I want everyone’s opinion on this letter I wrote for my ex. While I was blindsided by this, she has been nothing but respectful and classy about post break up stuff. Respected the NC and respected me saying I will reach out if I’m ready. So we planned and are meeting on Thursday. I could see myself getting back with her down the road, as my letter dictates. I wrote this hand written letter and want opinion. Thanks in advance!
The letter:
Dear [her name],
As we prepare to part ways and move on to the next chapters of our lives, I wanted to take a moment to express some things that have been weighing on my heart. First and foremost, I want you to know that I harbor no ill will towards you for the decision you made to end our relationship. While it was incredibly difficult for me to accept at first, I understand that you felt it was the best choice for you, and I respect that.
Our time together has meant the world to me, and I want you to know that I cherish every moment we shared. You brought so much love, joy, and growth into my life, and for that, I will always be grateful. Even though things didn't work out the way I had hoped, I am thankful for the experiences we had together and the person you helped me become.
I want you to know that despite the pain of our breakup, my love for you hasn't changed. It may take time to heal and find closure, but I want you to know that I care about you deeply, and I am open to the possibility of revisiting our relationship in the future if it's what we both desire. With that being said, I will not wait on that opportunity to come around and I don’t expect you too either.
That being said, I cannot deny the hurt and sadness I felt when you made the decision to end things. It was a difficult pill to swallow, and it left me feeling lost and heartbroken. While I may not fully understand all your reasons, I respect your honesty and your right to follow your own path. As I said at the very start of our relationship, you never have to justify your feeling to me.
As we say our goodbyes, please know that you will always hold a special place in my heart. I wish you nothing but happiness, success, and fulfillment in all of your endeavors. And if our paths should cross again someday, I hope that we can look back on our time together with fondness and gratitude. My number is always open, so please keep in touch. I look forward to the next time we speak to each other.
Take care of yourself, [her name]. Know that you are loved and valued, now and always.
With love and respect,
Mike
2024.05.14 23:22 i-will-overcome Relapsed & Struggling
I've been struggling with a very destructive pattern of paying for sex for some time now. I don't do it often, and bc of that I've fooled myself into believing that these act-outs are just a series of one-off events brought on by specific stressors in my life, but it has undoubtedly become a pattern and I know that I need some accountability.
For context, from a young age I've always engaged in somewhat deviant (to me) sexual behavior. I was raised very strictly catholic and from a young age was told in school that it was a sin to masturbate. I matured earlier than many boys and started masturbating in 4th grade. The first time scared the hell out of me as I had no idea what was happening. All I knew is it felt good and that I couldn't talk to it about anyone.
Fast forward to 8th grade - I was in a serious relationship through 9th grade. This was the first time I had sex of any kind with another person. I also was cheating on her with many other girls.
Next was sophomore year of high school. The first time I experienced true love. And the first time I felt I had such a deep connection with someone else that was respectful and honest. And still I ended up cheating on her toward the end of our two years together. We remain friends to this day which I'm very thankful for, and hey it was high school - water under the bridge, young people make mistakes right? maybe, but...
Fast forward to my college years, I was in a very serious relationship for the entirety of college that culminated in marriage right out of school and a subsequent divorce a few years later. She was the one. Beautiful, smart, sexy. She had everything I wanted (or thought I wanted in my juvenile brain). But as we entered our 3rd year of dating, we began to have many serious sexual issues that we would later find out, stemmed from both of our underlying trauma surrounding sex. We continuously played out a very destructive sexual fantasy that was never explicitly spoken about until the very end of our relationship. In addition to this, I also had many emotional and physical affairs along the way.
That failed marriage prompted a complete overhaul of my life. I was devastated and I knew there were many things I needed to sort out if I was ever going to have a healthy relationship to sex and with another person. Thus, I found a therapist. An amazing therapist. I didn't realize how good he was until much later. The work we did together changed my life. I found a stable career. And I found the girl of my dreams. The relationship was calm, respectful, loving, and without the vicious ups and downs I had previously known. The sex was good and meaningful. We are still together - married with three children. And to this day I have not had any sort of emotional connection to anyone else but her.
And yet, I'm here. Early in my relationship with my now-wife, I visited a massage parlor and cheated. I talked about this with my therapist. We dug in and explored why I felt the need to do this and discovered that this acting out had very little to do with my relationship and everything to do with some unresolved issues inside of me. Thus, the advice was to not disclose the transgression to my partner as it would only cause her pain. That took me a minute to understand but I believe it was the right decision. I still do. And with time, I moved past it.
That was my only transgression for a long time. After many years of intensive therapy I was a new man, feeling more confident and secure in myself than I'd ever been. And so on my therapists advice we began to taper off on the sessions until finally we felt the bulk of our work was done and that I we would check in only on a necessary basis.
And then 3 years into my marriage, I acted out again. I visited another sex worker. I was devastated. But I felt confident that I could handle this on my own. I didn't call my therapist. I journaled, I downloaded a sober app, I conducted therapy sessions with myself, and I held myself accountable. And with time I began to feel better until the guilt faded away and after numerous successful moments where I stopped myself from acting out. This gave me a security that I might finally have kicked my issue. And so I went on with life, I dedicated myself to being the best partner and father I could be. I didn't think of my transgressions often - only when those impulses would arise or I would catch myself drinking a bit too much and experiencing intrusive thoughts.
And then after almost 2 years of sobriety, I did again last week. And I'm crushed. It shakes the foundation I've fought so hard to build. It makes me question everything. It makes me feel like a broken person doomed to failure. And my deep fear now is that I've pathologized this behavior. I've normalized it. And that thought sends me into a panic. Is this what my life will be? Will I always have to carry around this shadow self? This is not the man I want to be. This is not the partner or father I want to be.
And what makes it that much more difficult is that my family and friends adore me. I've been referred to as "golden boy" more than a few times. I have an enviable life. And I'm the type of person who friends and family confide in and look up to. I've been told I emanate a quiet strength and people feel safe around me.
And yet, here I am with this terrible secret. I don't feel like the man people think I am or that I portray myself to be. I've called my therapist and we will speak tomorrow, but any words of encouragement or additional resources would be much appreciated. I cannot allow this to happen again. It is eating away at my heart.
submitted by i-will-overcome to SexAddictionHelp [link] [comments]
For context, from a young age I've always engaged in somewhat deviant (to me) sexual behavior. I was raised very strictly catholic and from a young age was told in school that it was a sin to masturbate. I matured earlier than many boys and started masturbating in 4th grade. The first time scared the hell out of me as I had no idea what was happening. All I knew is it felt good and that I couldn't talk to it about anyone.
Fast forward to 8th grade - I was in a serious relationship through 9th grade. This was the first time I had sex of any kind with another person. I also was cheating on her with many other girls.
Next was sophomore year of high school. The first time I experienced true love. And the first time I felt I had such a deep connection with someone else that was respectful and honest. And still I ended up cheating on her toward the end of our two years together. We remain friends to this day which I'm very thankful for, and hey it was high school - water under the bridge, young people make mistakes right? maybe, but...
Fast forward to my college years, I was in a very serious relationship for the entirety of college that culminated in marriage right out of school and a subsequent divorce a few years later. She was the one. Beautiful, smart, sexy. She had everything I wanted (or thought I wanted in my juvenile brain). But as we entered our 3rd year of dating, we began to have many serious sexual issues that we would later find out, stemmed from both of our underlying trauma surrounding sex. We continuously played out a very destructive sexual fantasy that was never explicitly spoken about until the very end of our relationship. In addition to this, I also had many emotional and physical affairs along the way.
That failed marriage prompted a complete overhaul of my life. I was devastated and I knew there were many things I needed to sort out if I was ever going to have a healthy relationship to sex and with another person. Thus, I found a therapist. An amazing therapist. I didn't realize how good he was until much later. The work we did together changed my life. I found a stable career. And I found the girl of my dreams. The relationship was calm, respectful, loving, and without the vicious ups and downs I had previously known. The sex was good and meaningful. We are still together - married with three children. And to this day I have not had any sort of emotional connection to anyone else but her.
And yet, I'm here. Early in my relationship with my now-wife, I visited a massage parlor and cheated. I talked about this with my therapist. We dug in and explored why I felt the need to do this and discovered that this acting out had very little to do with my relationship and everything to do with some unresolved issues inside of me. Thus, the advice was to not disclose the transgression to my partner as it would only cause her pain. That took me a minute to understand but I believe it was the right decision. I still do. And with time, I moved past it.
That was my only transgression for a long time. After many years of intensive therapy I was a new man, feeling more confident and secure in myself than I'd ever been. And so on my therapists advice we began to taper off on the sessions until finally we felt the bulk of our work was done and that I we would check in only on a necessary basis.
And then 3 years into my marriage, I acted out again. I visited another sex worker. I was devastated. But I felt confident that I could handle this on my own. I didn't call my therapist. I journaled, I downloaded a sober app, I conducted therapy sessions with myself, and I held myself accountable. And with time I began to feel better until the guilt faded away and after numerous successful moments where I stopped myself from acting out. This gave me a security that I might finally have kicked my issue. And so I went on with life, I dedicated myself to being the best partner and father I could be. I didn't think of my transgressions often - only when those impulses would arise or I would catch myself drinking a bit too much and experiencing intrusive thoughts.
And then after almost 2 years of sobriety, I did again last week. And I'm crushed. It shakes the foundation I've fought so hard to build. It makes me question everything. It makes me feel like a broken person doomed to failure. And my deep fear now is that I've pathologized this behavior. I've normalized it. And that thought sends me into a panic. Is this what my life will be? Will I always have to carry around this shadow self? This is not the man I want to be. This is not the partner or father I want to be.
And what makes it that much more difficult is that my family and friends adore me. I've been referred to as "golden boy" more than a few times. I have an enviable life. And I'm the type of person who friends and family confide in and look up to. I've been told I emanate a quiet strength and people feel safe around me.
And yet, here I am with this terrible secret. I don't feel like the man people think I am or that I portray myself to be. I've called my therapist and we will speak tomorrow, but any words of encouragement or additional resources would be much appreciated. I cannot allow this to happen again. It is eating away at my heart.