So, I started talking to this girl who randomly added me on Instagram about 4 years ago. We got along great and she seemed very shy but interested to message me. As time went on we both came to notice a connection, we would both make each other laugh, great conversations, and even flirt a bit. July 4th 2022 she actually called me on Instagram but unfortunately I didn't hear it, until awhile later. Found out she wanted to see me and meet in person. After that we kept messaging but it went down. I believe she ended up being with some other guy. Fast forward to about a week ago. I liked a photo she posted and she instantly messaged me, in spanish. We got to talking and thought I was with someone which I told her I wasn't, then tells me she doesn't want to interfere if I am because she likes me and has feelings for me. Anyways we tell each other our availability, we decide Saturday, she said she might be able to but won't know until Friday evening at the latest. So I messaged her Saturday, no response until around 7pm telling me that she went with her family and was helping clear some space for a remodel she's doing at her grandmother's house. She was very close to her grandmother as well, lived with her when we started talking. She apologized and said she was so sorry but was very busy cleaning and with her family. 2 different guys tried talking to her and both she screenshot and sent them to me, she told them she's taken. She calls me baby, and mi amor, because we pretty much message only in spanish. She shows her mom a picture of me telling me she thinks I'm handsome as well. Anyways, fast forward to yesterday, I go to linkd in images and her picture pops up. But it's not the same name she has on Instagram. I message her about it and she tells me, "I was hoping you wouldn't see that because I don't like explaining it, I dont even use that app anymore". I told her its nothing bad just don't know why you have a different name. I asked her if she was playing with me and if she could explain. Then I thought about it and told her, you know what nvmd, if you don't feel comfortable telling me right now it's ok, whenever your ready to. She just said thank you for understanding and she's kind of stopped messaging me a bit. Like she's a bit distant. We still message but doesn't feel the same. She also asked me if I was sure about her not telling me. Was it a mistake and should I had seen if she would've told me? Or did I do the right thing? I also want to try again about meeting in person but don't know how she feels. She also told me she's a bit afraid of meeting because she doesn't want to get hurt, like by a failed relationship, that she wants to make sure and realize that she feels safe with me and that I won't leave her. Any pointers on this situation would be great 👍

I wanted to get some thoughts and feedback on something a few friends and I have been discussing recently: the problem with green based land ramp in commander, and how we have been considering addressing it in our playgroup.
The Problem: Land-searching ramp ≤ 3 offers green decks too much consistency and safety compared to options available to non-green decks The Solution: Removing all land-searching ramp ≤ 3 mana ([[Nature's Lore]], [[Farseek]], [[Sakura Tribe Elder]], [[Cultivate]] etc.) from the format
I'd also like to preface this by saying that I acknowledge that this could be a bad/dumb take, and that it is not a definitive way to solve a highly diverse and complicated format; it's just an idea we've been tossing around that we might try to implement into our own playgroup, and I wanted to get some outside opinions. I also acknowledge that this sort of "fix" will almost certainly never see the light of day on any sort of grand scale, as I imagine most commander players would not like to see a mass banning/format warp to solve a problem that you could argue doesn't even exist. I'd also like to say that this is all in regards to non-cEDH gameplay/playgroups, as I feel that cEDH is its own format and this discussion doesn't really apply to cEDH gameplay. All that being said, here are my thoughts:
In the current era of EDH gameplay it's pretty much been established that turns one through three are the setup turns where you deploy your ramp and mana fixing so that you can cast your proper board impacting beaters, card advantage engines, interaction, etc., on turns four and beyond. For decks not in green this typically involves playing mana rocks such as [[Arcane Signet]], talismans, signets, and maybe a [[Sol Ring]] if you're lucky. For green based decks, this usually means playing cards like [[Nature's Lore]], [[Farseek]], [[Rampant Growth]], etc., which are predominantly viewed as the inherently correct choices to run over the aforementioned mana rocks played by the non-green decks. These are often viewed as the preferred sources of ramp for green decks because they offer your deck more mana consistency (often able to ramp out shock lands and triomes in multi-colored decks) with greater safety and reliability.
Now why is this a problem for the format? I feel like the innate reliability and safety of land-searching ramp puts green decks at a significant advantage over other decks in both the early game as well as the late game. In the early game these ramp spells offer mana fixing, flexibility, and consistency at a much better level than most early game mana rocks available in non-green decks. For example, a Temur deck can easily keep a hand with two Forests and one of their ramp spells, such as Farseek or Cultivate, since they can search out a [[Ketria Triome]] or their two other basic lands they need and immediately have access to all three of their colors. If an Esper deck, on the other hand, has an opening hand with two Plains and one of their ramp spells, such as a [[Talisman of Hierarchy]] or [[Azorius Signet]] , they might be forced to mulligan since they don't know when they'll get access to their third color. In essence, green decks are able to keep greedier hands with greater consistency due to the mana fixing that their land-searching ramp spells often provide them.
The other problem with land-searching ramp spells is the "safety" they provide. The benefit of running land-searching ramp spells is that lands often remain safe from interaction from the rest of the table. When the board starts to fill up with too many troublesome creatures and other nonland permanents, some sort of wrath is almost always inevitable. Nowadays these wraths often include spells like [[Farewell]], [[Cyclonic Rift]], [[Austere Command]], [[Ondu Inversion]], etc., usually leaving the board empty, all mana rocks gone. This often gives the green decks a considerable advantage over the non-green decks, as they are often left with their ramp intact and are able to redeploy and build up a new board state quicker and more reliably than the rest of the table. Often times the solution to this particular problem is to run some sort of land destruction to counteract this, with [[Ruination]] being mentioned more as of late. Land destruction in EDH is a touchy subject; some people think it should be utilized more often, some people think it shouldn't be allowed at all. Personally, I don't think that destroying lands should be the solution. The problem is that single-target land destruction is inefficient, making it a poor solution to land ramp, and mass land destruction often goes against the "Spirit of Commander" because it often leads to prolonged games and a "feels bad" state of play. This is why I believe that the best way to "solve" the green based land-searching ramp problem is to cut it off at the source: removing land-searching ramp ≤ 3 mana from the format.
I am not advocating from the removal of green ramp, or even land ramp as a whole. I believe that ramp is a core part of the green color identity, and I believe that green should be able to ramp better and more efficiently than the other colors. I just believe that there should be a sort of check and cost to green ramp that can potentially be punished, rather than land-searching early spells that are almost always strictly better than what the rest of the color pie can play. If green decks want to ramp hard in the early game, I am all for them playing creatures like [[Delighted Halfling]] or [[Birds of Paradise]], or enchantments like [[Wild Growth]] or [[Utopia Sprawl]] - ramp that can be punished with a wrath or with interaction like everything else. And I am all for big land-searching ramp spells like Explosive Vegetation or Hour of Promise, where you actually have to sacrifice a turn and potentially leave yourself exposed, rather than taking advantage of the first three turns of the game when everyone is trying to setup for their future games. I don't think that removing land-searching ramp spells ≤ 3 mana would remove the viability of any decks and leave them unable to function; I just think it would lower the consistency and advantages that I feel green decks, particularly 3+ colored green decks, are currently taking advantage of in the format.
Anyways, that went on way longer than I'd anticipated. I'm just curious what the communities thoughts are. Is this just a god-awful take, or do you agree with me to some extent or another? Is there even a problem to address? Hell if I know, I'm just rambling based off of the experiences I've had with my playgroup at my LGS.
TLDR; I believe that land-searching ramp spells ≤ 3 mana give green decks a greater advantage in your average EDH games, and that removing them from the format would help balance the format.

So, I finished Rebirth a few days ago, and I've had some time to think about it all. This has lead me to the conclusion that Aerith's potential death creates huge plot holes in the "Re-trilogy". I'll lay everything out and I'd like to see what people think.
In Remake and Rebirth, it is clear that Aerith, Sephiroth, and even Cloud have knowledge of the past/future. This is evidenced when Aerith gives Marlene a vision of her (Aerith's) death. This is also confirmed in Rebirth when Marlene tells Zack and has a flashback to that exact moment. She also gives Red XIII knowledge of her death, as well as the knowledge of the Whispers. This is confirmed in Remake as Red XIII admits he found out about the Whispers when "Aerith reached out" to him. It's also confirmed in the "date" sequence between Red XIII, and Cloud in chapter 12 of Rebirth. During which Red warns Cloud of Aerith being in danger and asks Cloud to keep Aerith safe. (There is more evidence, but I'm trying to keep this relatively brief.)
Cloud and Sephiroth are shown to have prior knowledge early on in Remake. Cloud clearly sees visions of Aerith's death, which is either visions of the future, or visions of a past. I'm inclined to believe the later. This is because when Cloud meets Aerith for the first time in Remake, Sephiroth appears and tells Cloud he is "Too weak to save anyone". To me, this is a clear nod to Aerith's death in the OG. There is also the scene where Cloud first sees and follows Sephiroth, they then have an exchange of words. Cloud says "You're not real. You're dead. I killed you with my..." To which Sephiroth replies "Oh, you need not remind me." There is also the moment just after Aerith is taken by Tseng, and the Sector 7 plate fell. Cloud has one of his turns, sees Sephiroth, and Sephiroth says "You have failed again, I see." Which is either talking about Aerith being captured, or failing to stop the plate from falling. Either way, to have failed *again* means to have tried before, which Sephiroth clearly knows about. So this shows that they both have prior knowledge of events.
So this brings up the plot holes with Aerith's "death" in Rebirth.

1. Why wouldn't Aerith or Red outright tell the others of her potential death so they could take steps to avoid it, and allow Aerith to potentially have a better outcome for herself? Yes their memories were stripped by the Whispers after they left Midgar, but that doesn't stop them from explaining this in the Shinra building just after Aerith was saved from Hojo's lab.
   
2. How come Cloud didn't put the pieces together from his visions to at least figure out what was going on before things got to that point?
   
3. The biggest plot hole of them all. Why did Sephiroth kill Aerith again, when his murder of Aerith was the ENTIRE reason his plan failed in the OG? Yes, he was defeated in combat, but Holy went off far too late to stop Meteor, and it was Aerith from within the lifestream that stopped it. His plan would have ultimately worked if Aerith was alive. Sephiroth having prior knowledge of these events means he MUST have known this. So why kill her again if it was the reason he failed the first time? If the point was to send Cloud over the edge, why not Kill someone else? Tifa for example. Cloud has known Tifa longer than anyone as she was a childhood friend. That would have achieved the same result, if not accelerate the process, and Aerith wouldn't be within the lifestream to put a further obstacle in Sephiroth's way. It makes him look horribly inept.
   

Finally, there is the whole concept of the Whispers. What would be the point of introducing an entity that exists solely for the reason of keeping "fate" in order, only for them to be defeated to allow fate to be changed, just to have everything end up exactly the same anyway? If the outcome was inevitable no matter what happened, then fate wasn't threatened at all. So the Whispers would have had no reason to intervene.
So this leads me to three possible conclusions.

1. There is something obvious that I'm missing that would explain all of this.
   
2. Aerith is ultimately alive at the end of Rebirth.
   
3. This is a massive oversight by the writers of the story.
   

I'd like to hear some opinions on this. Thanks, if you took the time to read this.

If you ask other RVers which national park is their favorite, someone is bound to mention Joshua Tree National Park in Southern California. It's a camper's paradise with wide open space and panoramic views.
Most evenings, the landscape glows at golden hour, and the sky turns from red hot at sunset to dark blue and star-filled at night. You can enjoy the remoteness of the park but also its proximity to Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley.
Take the time during your visit to enjoy the endless roads of the desert landscape, play on the rock formations, and, of course, marvel at the Joshua Trees.

Why Visit Joshua Tree National Park?

The first reason to visit Joshua Tree National Park is to see its famous and fascinating Joshua Trees. Since the Mojave desert is the only place in the world where they grow naturally, Joshua Tree National Park is the best place to see them.
These trees range between 15-40 feet tall and can live an impressive 150 years. They’re members of the Yucca family and appear as though they're from a different planet, with limbs unpredictably jetting out like they have their own minds.
Another great reason to visit Joshua Tree National Park is the warm weather and abundance of sunshine. It’s no secret that RVers love to snowbird and the Californian desert is a wonderful place to be during the spring and fall months. You’ll enjoy sunny days and clear nights, perfect for dry camping with solar panels.

When to Visit Joshua Tree National Park

Joshua Tree National Park is open year-round, but the best times to visit are during the spring and fall months. Park elevations range from 536 feet to 5,814 feet above sea level, so expect conditions to vary depending on where you go in the park.
Here’s more information on the seasonal weather in Joshua Tree.

Spring

Spring is a very popular time in the park because the temperatures range from the mid-60s in February to the mid-70s in April. Depending on the year, wildflower blooms can be seen in the latter part of spring at the lower elevations within the Pinto Basin.

Summer

Due to extreme desert heat (+100℉ days are the norm), the park is pretty quiet during the summer. Late in the summer, monsoon season hits Joshua Tree, which cools down the daytime temperatures but can also lead to flash flooding in valleys and ravines.

Fall

Monsoon season continues into the fall, but it soon gives way to one of the best times to visit. Temperatures from August into October fall from the upper 90s into the low 80s, and evening temperatures range from the low 70s to the low 50s, on average.

Winter

In the heart of winter, the park's average daily temperature is 60 degrees Fahrenheit, which is perfectly comfortable, but the nights get cold and often drop to freezing. Overnight temperatures in December and January average in the mid-30s.
Check the park’s website for the latest weather alerts and condition updates.

Where to Stay

Joshua Tree National Park is pretty remote and expansive. You'll want to stay a few days. Unlike other national parks, there are no lodges or resorts for overnight accommodations. There are eight developed campgrounds, however, and camping out under the stars at Joshua Tree is an unforgettable experience.
Here are a few important things to be aware of ahead of time if you plan to camp in Joshua Tree.

Reservation versus First-Come, First-Served

Four of the developed campsites require reservations. They’re larger than the first-come, first-served campgrounds, and some offer water and flush toilets. These campgrounds fill up very quickly. We recommend planning well in advance.

Reservation Required Campgrounds

• Black Rock Campground
• Cottonwood Campground
• Indian Cove Campground
• Jumbo Rocks Campground

Black Rock and Cottonwood are the most developed campgrounds (water, toilets, sanitation dump) and are the only campgrounds you can stay in if you have a larger rig.
Black Rock has six sites that can accommodate rigs with a total length (tow vehicle included) of 38-40 feet and seven sites up to 42 feet. Cottonwood has around twenty-five campsites that can accommodate rigs slightly longer than 35 feet.
Indian Cove and Jumbo Rocks both have a few spots for RVs up to 35 feet in total length. If you have a rig larger than 35 feet, site availability may be considerably limited.

First-come, First-served Campgrounds

These campgrounds are great options if you have a smaller rig and the good fortune of securing a site. During the popular season, these campgrounds fill every weekend and often during the week, as well.

• Belle Campground
• Hidden Valley Campground
• Ryan Campground
• White Tank Campground

These are primitive campgrounds, so you will need to bring (and carry out) everything you’ll need during your stay.

Staying Outside the Park

If you’re unable to find a site in the park or you’re looking for a campground with more amenities, here are a few nearby campgrounds:

• TwentyNine Palms RV Resort and Cottages: About 10 minutes from the north entrance.
• Sam’s Family Spa and Resort: About 45 minutes from the main visitor center.
• Catalina Spa and RV Resort: About 50 minutes from the main visitor center.
• Palm Springs Oasis RV Resort: About 45 minutes from the south entrance.
• Indian Waters RV Resort and Cottages: About 30 minutes from the south entrance.

Invest in a Good Sam Membership and save 10% on nightly stays at Good Sam Campgrounds.

Tips for Your Camping Stay

• Reservations for the reservable campgrounds can be made up to six months in advance.
• Reserve using the links below or by calling 1-877-444-6777.
  • Black Rock Campground
  • Cottonwood Campground
  • Indian Cove Campground
  • Jumbo Rocks Campground
• No campgrounds in the park offer electric RV hookups.
• Generator use is restricted to 7-9 am, noon-2 pm, and 5-7 pm.
• Hammocks are not permitted in campgrounds and must be hung from rocks or climbing bolts elsewhere to protect the park’s sensitive vegetation.
• Backpacking is permitted in the park, but it requires more advanced planning and preparation.

How To Get Around

Nestled between I-10 and California SR 62, Joshua Tree is located in Southeastern California and is easy to access. Several towns nearby, including Palm Springs, Indio, and Twentynine Palms, make perfect supply stops before entering the park.
Indio is the last best stop on I-10 if you’re entering the park from the south. The park’s south entrance is located off Exit 168, about 30 minutes east of Indio. The park also offers a west entrance on Quail Springs Road, about 10 minutes southeast of the town of Joshua Tree. And the north entrance is just ten minutes south of Twentynine Palms on Utah Trail.
Several paved roads allow you to traverse the park, but going from site to site can require long drive times. The most frequented sites are located near the northern edge of the park, so if you’re coming from the south along I-10, you’ll be driving through the park for an hour or so before you spot your first Joshua Tree.

Places to Go

There are many places to visit in the park that offer a variety beyond the infamous trees. It’s a unique location that features the intersection of two desert ecosystems.

Cholla Cactus Garden

The Cholla Cactus Garden is its own special area and is unlike any other part of the park. Be sure to enjoy the flat, ¼-mile nature trail to get the best look at the cacti. This patch of cacti is incredible because it mostly consists of Teddybear Cholla, which is the star of the cactus world.
The Cholla Cactus Garden is so impressive, and you’ll love snapping photos of these majestic plants. Their beauty changes throughout the day depending on how the sunlight hits them. A small word of advice, look but don’t touch. Ouch!

Arch Rock

Arch Rock is a very popular rock formation located a half-mile from White Tank Campground. The loop trail is easy to follow and a perfect activity for the whole family. Of course, the Arch Rock itself is the thing people most want to see, but there's lots of space to wander around and explore the other rock formations, too.
It’s also a very popular place for night photography and stargazing. If interested, White Tank Campground is a really convenient place to stay because of its proximity to the trailhead.

Keys View

Keys View is a popular lookout that offers incredible panoramic views of the park and the Coachella Valley. If beautiful scenery is your thing, make sure to visit Keys View. It’s about a 20-minute drive from the main road to the lookout via Keys View Rd.

Ryan Mountain

One of the most popular activities in the park is the hike to Ryan Mountain. This 3-mile round trip trail leads to the summit, where you’ll be treated to sweeping 360-degree views. The hike is listed as challenging by the NPS, so be sure to bring plenty of water and expect changing weather conditions.

Things to Do

The combination of the Mojave Desert and the Colorado Desert makes Joshua Tree a wonderful desert wilderness to explore. Here are some of the most popular activities in the park:

Hiking

Hiking is a great way to get off the road and experience more of the desert landscape. The National Park Service offers plenty of safety tips for hiking in Joshua Tree, and here are some of the park’s most popular trails:

• Barker Dam Trail: An easy 1.1-mile trail with interpretive exhibits containing information on park history. It’s a popular place for viewing bighorn sheep from a safe distance.
• Oasis of Mara Trail: A 0.5-mile trail to explore a desert oasis and learn how it’s harbored human and animal life for centuries.
• Lost Horse Mine Trail: A moderate 4-mile out and back trail to explore what was once the area’s most successful gold mine.
• Mastodon Peak Trail: A moderate 3-mile loop trail with an optional scramble to the top of a granite peak.
• Lost Palms Oasis Trail: A challenging 7.5-mile out and back trail down a canyon to one of the park’s most remote fan palm oases.

The Park Service DOES NOT recommend attempting challenging hikes in the heat due to the elevated risk of sun exposure and dehydration.

Mountain Biking

The majority of the park’s paved roads are not suitable for road cycling. However, several backcountry roads are perfect for mountain bikes. There are even three campsites within Ryan Campground dedicated to cyclists.
Be aware that bikes are only allowed on roads open to vehicle traffic but that the main park roads do not offer bike lanes or wide shoulders. Consult the park’s website for safety tips and road recommendations before biking in Joshua Tree.

Photography

Photographers love Joshua Tree because of the variety it contains. From sunrise to sunset, photographers can find landscapes, animal inhabitants, and even human visitors to place in frame.
Commercial photography does require a permit, and if you’re interested in expanding your knowledge, the Desert Institute offers field courses in partnership with the Joshua Tree National Park Association.

Stargazing

Stars can be hard to come by in urban areas like San Diego and Los Angeles, but Joshua Tree is a different story. Designated as an International Dark Sky Park, it offers some of the best stargazing in all of Southern California.
After the sun goes down, keep your headlamp in red light mode to preserve your night vision. Your eyes will need less time to adjust when you lie down to see how many shooting stars you can count!

Rock Climbing

Rock climbing, in addition to bouldering and slacklining, is another great activity to enjoy in the park. To date, there are more than 8,000 known climbing routes, over 2,000 bouldering problems, and numerous natural rock gaps that make the perfect spot to set up a slackline.
On a busy weekend, the park may have hundreds of climbers enjoying their slice of this monzogranite mecca. So be sure to follow Leave No Trace Principles and familiarize yourself with the park’s climbing management plan before your visit.

What to Bring and How to Prepare

• The desert can be dangerous, and the weather can change quickly. Check the forecast frequently and pack layers to prepare for changing conditions.
• The remote location means there is no cell service in many parts of the park. Communicate your plans to loved ones or authorities ahead of time, especially if traveling alone.
• Investing in a cell signal booster may improve cell reception in areas with limited service.
• A quality camping cooler is a great way to keep food and beverages cold in the heat of the desert.
• Bring an extra canopy tent and ensure your awning is in good condition so you can escape direct sunlight during the heat of the day.
• Keep up with air conditioner maintenance to regulate the temperature inside your RV.
• For the latest info on visiting Joshua Tree, visit their website: Joshua Tree National Park.

Brief History of Joshua Tree National Park

Despite its harsh desert environment, humans have inhabited the area that is now Joshua Tree for more than 5,000 years. In the modern era, the biggest threats to this natural environment were land developers and cactus poachers.
In the late 1920s, a Pasadena resident named Minerva Hoyt began voicing her concerns about the unregulated removal of cacti and other desert plants to be used in home gardens throughout Los Angeles.
In a relatively short time, her conservation efforts resulted in the formation of the Joshua Tree National Monument in 1936. The original protected area encompassed roughly 825,000 acres but was reduced by about 265,000 acres in 1950 when the Park Service excluded certain mining parcels in the eastern part of the park.
On Halloween in 1994, the Desert Protection Bill passed and Joshua Tree was elevated to national park status. The bill also added back approximately 234,000 acres of what had been lost in the 50s.
Plan your next trip to the national parks in an RV. Rent an RV, trade-In your RV, or buy a new or used RV and start traveling for less than $5 a day.
Have you been to Joshua Tree National Park? Share your tips and advice in the comments below.

Hei, hi and hello!
I’m Onsie Onsfjord or Fjord feel free to call me whichever is not mind to me.
I’m a 26-year-old English Norwegian who’s mainly lived his whole life in the United Kingdom and graduated from university with a degree in Computer Networks and is now working as a DIE for the NHS (Digital Infrastructure Engineer).
Caught you off guard with that job title acronym huh? Yeah, trust me when I first started it had me in fits of laughter, but you get used to it after a while.
So a bit about me; - I’m an introvert and tend to avoid public crowds, events and such and just try to vibe with friends on a nice game of anything (which you’ll see below) - I’m an avid IT nerd and will most likely remain this way for my whole career as IT is my education and career at this point - On top of IT you guessed it I’m also a very big avid “gamer” I mainly play PC and PS5 games with my current interests being in Helldivers 2, Star Wars: The Fallen Order, and Jedi: Survivor amongst a few other things like WoW, CoD, SWTOR and so on. - I love learning, whether it be history, game lore, languages, cultures, etc. You name it, and I’ll probably be interested in it (Trust me, you give me a flag of any country, and I’ll be able to tell you the country’s name and political structure. - I’m also an avid book reader and you’ll most likely see my shelf full of different manga from all types of genres, I don’t particularly watch anime, I mainly read instead because I find it more “interesting” for better or not. (Not that I'm opposed to watching it) - I’m trying to learn to cook myself but not very good at it as my most recent attempt I ended up giving myself food poisoning so it’s sufficient to say you will have a big gamble if you’d like me to cook ha-ha. - I do watch football from time to time and do support a few clubs from around the world (mainly northern Europe, the UK, and the US) feel free to guess if you’d like! - I’m currently on a VLCD and have lost about 2 stone within 1 month which I’m super super happy about.
In terms of looks and such I’m what an average 26-year-old would look like who is 6’1/6’2 with a picture on request.
Please don’t judge too much as I’m still working on improving myself.
What am I about? I’ve always made it a goal to help, care for, and support those close to me, whether it be friends, old friends, or the equivalent of my family. They’ve been there for me, and I’ll go hell and back for them as they’ve stood by me through thick and thin, even through the loss of other close friends; they’ve picked me up and brushed me down and set me straight to which I will always forever be in their debt and have helped them being.
Whilst I’ve been shot and backstabbed by many of those who I thought were close to me I just try and see the positive and avoid the unnecessary drama and arguments as life is just way too generally short for that kind of stuff and we should all get along with each other in my mind.
What am I looking for? I apologize if this comes off as really picky - Someone in the realm of the US, Canada or Europe - Someone between the age of 20 to 28 years old - Someone who has an interest in IT, manga, gaming, and such (It’s easier to talk to people with the same interest I’ve found though you don’t need to work in IT at all) - Just be a kind honest individual who I can back and vice versa. Be there for each other.
I am looking for a monogamous and serious relationship and not a friendship, however, I’m fine with starting out as friends whilst getting to know each other etc.
The end? Well, I’d like to say that this was the short and sweet version of myself without giving much more away about me but hey hopefully you’ve stayed this far and if you have, I have a very small simple request for you!
If you do decide I’m someone you’d like to get to know and all of that stuff then when messaging me, please make a somewhat attempt of an introduction (I’m not asking for the mass of paragraphs or anything) just a hi, your name (doesn’t have to be your real name), where you’re from, how old are you, what you do, hobbies, etc and we’ll go from there!
Low-effort chats & messages will be removed also, so I know that you’ve made it this far please put your answers to this question (wrong answers don’t matter, it’s what is attempted counts)
“I was born in the winter on a remembrance day, which day was this?”
Take care and hope to see your message 😊

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

Today I want to answer this common question: what do you do when you share mutual friends with your abusive ex? It's a situation many find themselves in because during the relationship, you naturally share friends due to shared interests or simply being together. But when the relationship ends, it leaves you wondering what to do with these mutual friends. It can be tough, especially when you're still hurting from the breakup and crave support from friends but now you don’t even know which friends to trust. So, how do you navigate this tricky situation?
Limit Communication
Limit the information you share with mutual friends before considering cutting ties with them. Even during no contact, these friends may still communicate with your ex. Avoid sharing every detail of your plans or recovery journey, as they might inadvertently reach your ex and sabotage your progress or draw you back into the relationship. Mutual friends create an indirect channel of communication, so you don’t have to tell them every single detail of your recovery journey.
Do not try to Win them Over.
Additionally, refrain from attempting to win them over to your side or convincing them to end ties with your abusive ex simply because you've broken up. Trying to recruit them may backfire, as they may isolate themselves from you or even view you as the problem. You may feel desperate because of loneliness, or you might approach the situation with good intentions like wanting your friends to see the truth about your ex. But it never really works that way since you’re the one who saw and experienced the abuse firsthand and your mutual friends may have been getting the ‘good’ side or the superficial charm side of your abusive ex.
Beware of Flying Monkeys
Another important point to consider is to know that your mutual acquaintances may potentially becoming proxies for abuse. They may start smearing your name or making you feel like the abusive one. They may do the abuser’s bidding unknowingly or knowingly and you will end up getting hurt in the name of wanting to be with your friends.
Therefore, sometimes it's necessary to cut off mutual friends too, as you can't always rely on them during your healing journey. Until you learn to be your own friend, you'll remain vulnerable to manipulation and exploitation, both from others and from yourself. Healing is your journey, and even if you have to do it without the support of your friends, know that you're doing it for the one friend who matters the most: yourself. It can be a lonely journey, but it's better to embrace the loneliness and the emptiness inside than to belong to a crowd where people exploit each other.
Note from the Author
If you’re ready and you’d like my help with healing, finding peace in life and breaking free from these toxic patterns, then you can book a FREE BREAKTHROUGH CALL with me HERE. Happy healing 💙💙. Feel free to share and comment! Use this information with caution, it comes from my own thoughts & bias, experiences and research😊.

"Himiko?" Kokichi knocked on the door to Himiko and Tenko's room later that night. Himiko had taken a long nap after such a disappointing day. But, before she fell asleep, she reflected deeply on what Kokichi had told her. She had to admit that he was right, that she needed to a better attitude about herself. But, how to do that, she didn't know. She suddenly remembered his words: You should be smart, confident, and capable of doing things your way. Her way? What was her way, exactly?
"Himiko?" Kokichi whispered a little louder. Himiko opened her eyes, hearing Kokichi calling out to her. She scrambled out of bed and went over to answer the door. Kokichi smiled at her with his usual cheeky grin. "Hey, sleepyhead! Are you still planning on selling cookies?" Himiko took a deep breath and nodded. Kokichi had given her some courage to actually try things and take chances, to try and overcome self-doubt.
"Yeah. I'm ready," she said. There was still a part of her that didn't want to, but she forced that part of her into silence. She lifted her chin and smiled at him. "I'm ready, Kokichi." Kokichi smiled back at her.
"Alright, Monkey Buns!" he cheered, giving her a high five and then a hug. "Same place?"
"Alright," Himiko nodded. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She remembered what Kokichi had told her earlier about being smart and confident her way. "But, on the way over there, can we stop by my, um..." She paused to whisper. "...secret lair? "
"Ooooh?" Kokichi murmured with a curious smile. "Yeah, we can stop by." Himiko nodded and retreated back into her room to grab the two tin bowls of cookies she had baked with Three and Ten.
"Nyeh...okay, I'm ready," Himiko said. Kokichi took her hand in his, and the two crept downstairs. Some of the others were still in the dining room eating dinner, so Kokichi and Himiko had to leave through the front door to get to Himiko's secret magic room under the gazebo. Kokichi stood outside to keep watch while Himiko went inside her magic room. Once inside, she went for her magical dream powder bottle and poured some of its purple, sparkly contents into a small vial, hiding it in one of her jacket's pockets. Then, she met back up with Kokichi.
"Now I'm ready," she said.
"Okie-dokie!" Kokichi replied, taking the tin bowls from Himiko to hold them for her. "Let's go, HimikoCocoa Bean!" They then hurried over to D.I.C.E. headquarters.
"Boss!" Four said, jumping up from the couch. "And Boss Lady!"
"Hey, Ichiro," Kokichi and Himiko replied.
"Wanna hear a song that I heard on the radio?" Four asked. He cleared his throat, and began singing without waiting for a response. "If you like piña coladaaaaas, and getting caught in the rai-"
"Okay, Ichiro, that's enough," Kokichi interrupted, wincing from Four's terrible voice.
"Urgh...thank you!" Five exclaimed as she wrapped Kokichi's cape around him. After Three placed Kokichi's hat on his head, she turned to Himiko.
"So, Himiko, did you sell a lot of cookies?" she asked eagerly. Himiko gave her an apologetic look and shook her head. Three's shoulders slumped.
"Oh..." she said softly.
"What? Why?" Ten asked. "Did they not like them? Because I put all my blood, sweat, and tears into those things! Er...well, not literally...duh."
"Yeah, I hope not!" Two exclaimed, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "I bet there are people in this world who actually do stuff like that!"
"Nee-heehee...I know a very horny someone who'd do something like that," Kokichi said.
"The tin bowls are still so full!" Three said, her voice dripping with disappointment.
"It's not really the cookies that people didn't like, Keiko," Himiko said. "It was because of me."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Nine asked.
"Well, I'm not really popular at school to begin with," Himiko said. "But, I wasn't really trying my best to sell them because I didn't think I could."
"Ouch," Six muttered.
"Oh, well...still!" Three huffed. "They could have at least tried your cookies, anyways! Those...those...clowns! " Then she turned to nobody in particular. "No offense, me," she mumbled to herself before turning back to Himiko.
"Hey, no offense to the rest of us, either!" Four said.
"Should we take offense?" Nine asked. "It's not like we're actual professional clow-"
"We get it, Hideyo!" everyone but Himiko interrupted simultaneously.
"Nyeh, well...anyways, thanks to Kokichi, I've decided to try again," Himiko said, giving Kokichi a shy smile.
"Aww, HimiCocoa Bean, you're making me blush!" Kokichi teased, wrapping his arm around her waist. "But, I only get half the credit. You should give yourself credit, too!"
"And you should give us those cookies," Four said, pointing to the tin bowls in Kokichi's hand.
"Himiko, are you still going to sell these?" Kokichi asked. Himiko thought for a moment. She remembered what Tsumugi said about chocolate chip cookies being plain and boring.
"No," she finally answered. "Actually, I've decided to go with Ten's plan from earlier."
"Right! Um...wait, what plan was that again?" Ten asked.
"The plan to make the snickerdoodles," Himiko said.
"Oh, yeah!" Ten remembered, a grin crossing his face.
"But, I wanna add a secret ingredient of mine," Himiko said.
"I hope it's not blood, sweat, and tears," Two said, shuddering.
"Why not?" Seven asked with a creepy smile. "Don't you like that salty, metallic flavor in your cookies?"
"Ew! Yuck! Kokichi, make her stop!" Five said, covering her ears.
"Tsukiko, don't make me tell Emi to get Mr. Sparkles," Kokichi warned. Seven hid under a blanket.
"No, please. Anything but that accursed pink and plushy unicorn!" she hissed. Five grinned smugly at her.
"Can we help you bake again, Himiko?" Three asked hopefully.
"Nyeh...of course!" Himiko answered.

"Neat-o! Let's get started!" Ten said, rubbing his hands enthusiastically. Kokichi nodded to Himiko encouragingly, and she followed Three and Ten to the kitchen. They soon got started on the batter. Himiko removed the vial of dream powder from her pocket.
"Oooo! What is that stuff?" Three asked, entranced by the purple, glittery powder.
"Hopefully the thing that'll win over any potential customers," Himiko answered before pouring the powder into the mixture. She mixed the batter until it became a shiny, glittering harmony of many colors.
"Holy Constantinople-y!" Ten exclaimed. "What the heck kind of secret ingredient is that?!"
"The batter looks so...pretty!" Three breathed in awe. "It's so...shiny and sparkly!" Then, she lowered her voice. "Is this...some of your magic, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...that's right," Himiko nodded.
"I know this is might sound like a dumb question, but...are you allowed to do that?" Ten asked.
"Nobody at school knows about my magic except for Kokichi," Himiko said. "So, technically, it's not not allowed. And besides, Kokichi said that I need to be smart and confident my way. And magic is my way of doing just that."
Part Eight
Sunday afternoon. Himiko took a deep breath, deeply breathing in the warm air as a gentle breeze flowed around her. Today, she felt lucky. She stood behind her table at the front of the school. Above her was a more colorful, glittery sign she and Three had worked on with the word, "Snoozydoodles," written in swirly letters. Hopefully it would be enough to bring in some customers. Her snickerdoodles were laid out on three large trays in front of her so that the other students could see their colorful and sparkly design.
"Hiya, Himiko!" came a cheerful voice. Himiko looked up and was surprised to see Three.
"Keiko?" she whispered. "Nyeh...what are you doing here?"
"I decided to come and cheer you on...and to make sure the turd buckets here buy your cookies," Three replied. "I put some love and special care into those cookies, and I didn't bust my tail just to have nobody buy them!"
"Nyeh...but...Ten and I worked on them, too," Himiko pointed out. "And I put my 'special ingredient' in them."
"I know," Three said. "But, I feel like if I worked hard on something, either by myself or in a group, I'd like for the world to see it, that's all."
"I understand," Himiko said with a small smile. "Wait...this is supposed to be a competition between me and Kokichi! I don't think he'd appreciate you helping me out, especially since I should be doing this myself."
"Well, I'll just be here for emotional support, then!" Three said. Himiko smiled gratefully and nodded.
"I guess that's okay," she said. " Thanks, Keiko. I like your outfit, by the way." Three scanned her outfit proudly. Instead of her D.I.C.E. uniform, she wore an oversized, cream-colored fluffy sweater over a short, pink ruffled skirt. She wore a pair of white tights with some loose pink socks and a pair of black and white checkered lolita shoes with pink straps. In her hair were pink bows over each pigtail.
"Eeee! Thank you!" she squealed happily. "It's not very often I get to go out in cutesy clothes like this, unless I'm undercover! Well...I guess you might say I'm going undercover right now, but...eh, whatever."
"Speaking of which, why are your shoes checkered?" Himiko asked. "Won't that give you away? Part of the reason why people know your organization is because of the checker pattern scarves...which makes me wonder how people haven't suspected Kokichi being part of...you-know-what."
"Heehee...I call that the 'Sailor Moon Effect,'" Three giggled. "But, anyway, when members of the organization are wearing casual clothes, we have to wear some article of clothing with a black and white checkered pattern to let other members know our affiliation. The beauty of it is that there are people not affiliated with us who wear checker patterned clothing, so it gives us a chance to blend in as if we're just regular people. That's why we have a codeword to tell the difference between members and the 'reggies.'"

"What's the codeword?" Himiko asked. Three leaned in closer to Himiko.

"'Funny business,' " she whispered.
"Nyeh...that's actually really cool," Himiko admitted with a smile.
"Yeah! You should really join, Himiko!" Three said. "I think you'll have lots of fun!"
"Fun with what?" asked Tenko, suddenly appearing with Angie and Tsumugi behind her. She had a frown on her face and marched right up to Three. "Himiko, who's this girl, and what's she trying to get you to join? WAIT!! Is this girl the friend you were talking about?! The one who helped you bake cookies yesterday?!"
"Yeah," Himiko nodded.
"Hey! I recognize you!" Angie said. "You're one of the girls who rescued Himiko from that crazy girl many months ago!" Three brightened.
"Yeah! That's me!" she said.
"Tuh...I could have rescued Himiko, you know," Tenko huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Three.
"Well...why didn't you?" Three asked.
"Urgh...!" Tenko scoffed. "Who do you think you are?!"
"I'm Michika!" Three lied, using one of her aliases. "I'm here to support Himiko with her cookie sale!"
"She doesn't need your support," Tenko said, stepping in between Three and Himiko. "Himiko already has me! Right, Himiko?"
"Umm..." Himiko mumbled.
"Of course you do!" Tenko interrupted.
"But...you didn't even let her finish," Three said.
"I didn't have to," Tenko said. "I already knew what she was thinking because we're best friends."
"Well...then...if you're her best friend, why dont'cha buy a cookie?" Three suggested craftily.
"Hmph! I will!" Tenko scoffed and turned to Himiko. "How much for a cookie, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...same as before," Himiko answered. Tenko paid ¥500 and grabbed a shimmery, glittering light green snickerdoodle from one of the trays. "Ooo, these are pretty, Himiko! Did you bake them all by yourself?"
"No, um...Michika helped me again," Himiko answered. Tenko glared at Three and flipped her hair at her.
"Well...they're okay, then," she said haughtily. "But, they're extra special because you helped, Himiko!"
"What are these cookies called, Himiko?" Tsumugi asked, scrutinizing a glittering blue cookie.
"Nyeh...they're called 'Snoozydoodles,'" Himiko answered. "They're snickerdoodles, but a special kind of snickerdoodles."
"Oooo! Why are they called 'Snoozydoodles?'" asked Angie.
"You have to eat them right before going to sleep to find out," Himiko answered mysteriously. Tenko hovered her cookie in front of her mouth.
"Oh! So, I have to eat this right before bed?" she asked.
"That's right," Himiko nodded.
"Aw, that's so creative, Himiko!" Tenko cried in adoration. "You're really clever, too! I bet you thought of the name!" Three rolled her eyes in annoyance. Himiko provided a little baggy for Tenko to put her cookie in, and provided some for Angie and Tsumugi, as well, after they had paid for their cookies.
"Thank you, Himiko," Tsumugi said.

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Himiko!" Angie chirped.
"Well...I guess we'd better try out the other cookies," Tsumugi said. "Everyone else said they'd have different flavors of cookies, too. Although, I don't think I'll try Kokichi's after what happened yesterday. I can plainly still feel the burn on my tongue."
"Hmm...I thought his cookies were divine!" Angie exclaimed. "I have never felt such an intense rush of heat before! Especially in a cookie!"
"Leave it up to a degenerate male to bake something so...horrible! " Tenko spat. Three raised a brow at her.
"Degenerate male?" she repeated. She didn't like hearing her boss being referred to that way.
"Yeah! Males are all scum of the Earth!" Tenko said. "Kind of like...best friend stealers."
"I wasn't trying to steal your best friend," Three said, fed up with Tenko.

"Huh...why did you assume I was talking about you? " Tenko asked. "You know what happens to people who assume things, don't you?"

"They end up knocking all 32 teeth out of the person accusing them of assuming things?" Three replied, trying to keep her cool.
"And you're violent!" Tenko shouted. "You're clearly a bad influence on Himiko!" Three stared at her in disbelief, creating an awkward silence to linger in the air.
"Well, um...I guess we should be going then," Tsumugi said, hurriedly yanking Angie away. "C'mon, Angie. Tenko? Are you coming?"

"No. I think I'll stay right here and help Himiko, since she clearly needs my support," Tenko said, glowering at Three.
"Tenko..." Himiko sighed in exasperation, but Three merely smiled sweetly at Tenko.
"Oh, my gosh! Where'd you get your outfit?" she asked. Tenko looked down quizzically at her outfit.
"W-Why...do you want to know?" she replied with suspicion.
"It's just so pretty!" Three replied. "Are you, like, the Ultimate Princess, or the Ultimate Cheerleader, or something?"
"Um...n-no...I'm the Ultimate Aikido Master," Tenko stammered as a small blush appeared on her face.
"Oh, wow! That's even better!" Three exclaimed. "I bet you give those...degenerate males...what they deserve all the time!" The hardened look on Tenko's face from before disappeared.
"You bet I do!" she said proudly.
"Oh...I wish I could be like you!" Three breathed. "You're, like, my hero! I bet you're a hero to girls everywhere!" Tenko lowered her head bashfully, blushing like crazy.
"N-No...I'm not all that...great," she sputtered.
"I bet you'd do anything for girls, huh?" Three asked.
"Oh, yes!" Tenko answered. "So long as you aren't a degenerate male, you're a friend of mine!"
Says the girl who just accused me of stealing her best friend, Three thought to herself. "Hooray! I'm happy to hear that! But...to tell you the truth, I can't believe you just ditched your other friends. They were girls, after all, and you just let them walk right into the school where they could be potential prey for those boys-er...I mean, degenerate males." Tenko gasped with realization.
"Oh, my gosh! You're so right!" she cried. "But...what about Himiko?"
"I'll look after her," Three said. "You trust me, right? I am a girl after all."
"Ohhh...well, okay," Tenko said. Then, she smiled. "I'll trust you, Michika! Take care of Himiko!"
"Oh, I will!" Three said. "Bye! Goodbye!" Tenko waved goodbye, leaving Himiko and Three alone. Three exhaled. "Finally, she's gone!" Himiko stared at her in amazement.
"Nyeh...that was incredible!" she cried. Three shrugged modestly.
"Yeah, I guess I picked up a little bit of manipulation skills from the boss," she said. "He's way better at it than I am, though! That girl was so annoying, by the way! Is she seriously your best friend?!"
"Well, yeah, I guess," Himiko answered. "She wants to support and protect me all the time."
"Sounds more like she wants to breastfeed you, or wipe your butt after you poop," Three said in disgust. She and Himiko shuddered at the thought. "Well, anyways, now that 'Tin Cup' is gone, let's put you on the cookie map!"
"Right!" Himiko said, and gave Three a high five.

Hei, hi and hello!
I’m Onsie Onsfjord or Fjord feel free to call me whichever is not mind to me.
I’m a 26-year-old English Norwegian who’s mainly lived his whole life in the United Kingdom and graduated from university with a degree in Computer Networks and is now working as a DIE for the NHS (Digital Infrastructure Engineer).
Caught you off guard with that job title acronym huh? Yeah, trust me when I first started it had me in fits of laughter, but you get used to it after a while.
So a bit about me;

• I’m an introvert and tend to avoid public crowds, events and such and just try to vibe with friends on a nice game of anything (which you’ll see below)
• I’m an avid IT nerd and will most likely remain this way for my whole career as IT is my education and career at this point
• On top of IT you guessed it I’m also a very big avid “gamer” I mainly play PC and PS5 games with my current interests being in Helldivers 2, Star Wars: The Fallen Order, and Jedi: Survivor amongst a few other things like WoW, CoD, SWTOR and so on.
• I love learning, whether it be history, game lore, languages, cultures, etc. You name it, and I’ll probably be interested in it (Trust me, you give me a flag of any country, and I’ll be able to tell you the country’s name and political structure.
• I’m also an avid book reader and you’ll most likely see my shelf full of different manga from all types of genres, I don’t particularly watch anime, I mainly read instead because I find it more “interesting” for better or not. (Not that I'm opposed to watching it) - I’m trying to learn to cook myself but not very good at it as my most recent attempt I ended up giving myself food poisoning so it’s sufficient to say you will have a big gamble if you’d like me to cook ha-ha.
• I do watch football from time to time and do support a few clubs from around the world (mainly northern Europe, the UK, and the US) feel free to guess if you’d like!
• I’m currently on a VLCD and have lost about 2 stone within 1 month which I’m super super happy about.

In terms of looks and such I’m what an average 26-year-old would look like who is 6’1/6’2 with a picture on request.
Please don’t judge too much as I’m still working on improving myself.
What am I about? I’ve always made it a goal to help, care for, and support those close to me, whether it be friends, old friends, or the equivalent of my family. They’ve been there for me, and I’ll go hell and back for them as they’ve stood by me through thick and thin, even through the loss of other close friends; they’ve picked me up and brushed me down and set me straight to which I will always forever be in their debt and have helped them being.
Whilst I’ve been shot and backstabbed by many of those who I thought were close to me I just try and see the positive and avoid the unnecessary drama and arguments as life is just way too generally short for that kind of stuff and we should all get along with each other in my mind.
What am I looking for? I apologize if this comes off as really picky

• Someone in the realm of the US, Canada or Europe
• Someone between the age of 20 to 28 years old
• Someone who has an interest in IT, manga, gaming, and such (It’s easier to talk to people with the same interest I’ve found though you don’t need to work in IT at all)
• Just be a kind honest individual who I can back and vice versa. Be there for each other.

I am looking for a monogamous and serious relationship and not a friendship, however, I’m fine with starting out as friends whilst getting to know each other etc.
The end? Well, I’d like to say that this was the short and sweet version of myself without giving much more away about me but hey hopefully you’ve stayed this far and if you have, I have a very small simple request for you!
If you do decide I’m someone you’d like to get to know and all of that stuff then when messaging me, please make a somewhat attempt of an introduction (I’m not asking for the mass of paragraphs or anything) just a hi, your name (doesn’t have to be your real name), where you’re from, how old are you, what you do, hobbies, etc and we’ll go from there!
Low-effort chats & messages will be removed also, so I know that you’ve made it this far please put your answers to this question (wrong answers don’t matter, it’s what is attempted counts)
“I was born in the winter on a remembrance day, which day was this?”
Take care and hope to see your message 😊

(sorry this is long, I just started and couldn’t stop)
I'm a 57F professional working as a Contracts Specialist for a large Tech Company. I discovered I have total Aphantasia about 2 months ago. I hate saying it that way, I "have" Aphantasia. It sounds like a disease or something. Still working on a way to word that when I share this with people who have never heard of it.
I have spent the months doing as much reading and self-searching as possible. I immediately felt relief when I discovered what Aphantasia is and have never had the feeling that I am missing out by not seeing the images, but I can sure understand why some would feel that way. For me it was the answer to questions I have been asking myself all my life. I just found out "I'm not crazy" AND "I'm not alone". I've never posted anything like this before, but when I joined, reading things like this from others when they first find out they are an Aphant was very helpful.
Some things I have thought about since learning this about myself.
Psychology Profession and Memory Loss - I have known I have a bad memory since I was a kid, I never understood why I couldn't remember things until someone "triggered" the memory. Once triggered, I can remember things fairly well. As many young adults, I had some issues adjusting to college life and chose to seek help with a professional. This was my first experience with being told I must be repressing a traumatic experience from my childhood. We spent many months/years and many tears trying to determine what that could be. Now I should add I was abused as a child and had remembered and dealt with that. My parents ended up shipping me off to my Grandparents to get away from her influence. But answer me this, if I remembered it and dealt with it and no longer had negative consequences from it, why didn’t my memory get better? Over the years I have seen a couple other therapists that wanted to concentrate on repressed memories because of my memory. I went along for a while but finally became convinced that there were no other memories to find. But that profession took a lot of my money, time and emotional wellbeing - yet nothing was ever discovered. I doubted people in my life that I never should have. Now I believe Aphantasia should be a part of all professional training for mental health wellness. I'm old, so maybe it is now??
Fake Memories - After experiencing this kind of high pressure "therapy" I can totally understand how people create fake memories. So many thoughts and details were provided during these sessions, I could have easily started to "make" things up and that leads to believing it happened in that environment. As a woman, I am always looking to please people, I tried to please my therapists. Aphantasia or not, false memories are not as hard to plant as you might think especially when that person is trying to make you happy.
Being Present - This has been a big thing the last few years. People pushing for you to be present in your life. Professionals have also mentioned that my memory issues may be due to the fact that I have never "been present" in my life. It took a few sessions to understand what the hell they meant and then spent much time trying to "be present" and I the only thing I determined is that I have always "been present" as best I can! I stopped going to therapists after this one.
Objects & Memories - I now understand why I have been holding on to things that most people would have let go of by now. For instance I have a large stuffed animal collection and have always told my husband I could not get rid of any of them as each one is a trigger for a good memory. I am afraid if I get rid of it, that memory will be lost forever. If the memory really does go away, then I can get rid of that object. If there is no memory trigger, it's pretty easy to let go. Same with taking photos, I have a better understanding of why I always had my camera out. Without a picture, did it really happen? Not in my memory!
Deep Connections - Aphantasia may be a factor in my perception as to why I cannot make deep connections with people. Because my brain does not pepper me with visions and thoughts of loved ones, I don't think about other people very often. I don't know what people mean when they say "I miss you". I truly am an OUT OF SIGHT OUT OF MIND lifer. When I have expressed to others that I feel that way, I have been told they feel a deep connection and don't know what I would mean by deeper. Now I believe since I don't think about others often, I've just convinced myself over the years that my feelings must not be deep. If it were deep, wouldn’t I be on their minds like I am on theirs? I am starting to understand things a bit differently now, I love and care DEEPLY for the people in my life, I'm just not triggered to remember them.
Learning/Training - I have always had issues with classroom learning. I have trouble concentrating on what is being presented unless there is some kind of hands-on activity associated with the training. I recently moved to a new position at work, I used to be a corporate trainer. To start my new position there was a large learning curve. I found when someone one told me something about the job I needed to see it or even better perform the task myself. That is not always available in training situations. It has taken a while to get up to speed in this position and I was doing a great job of beating myself up about not catching on quickly. I must be getting old, I thought. I was usually frustrated as a trainer when I had to train people my age, they just didn't seem to "get it" when others did. Well here's my payback, now I have to learn and I'm the one not "getting it". I do really wish I had known about Aphantasia/Hypophantasia/Hyperphantasia while I was a trainer. I think about all the improvements I could make on the material if I knew how the student's memory worked. I never really used much visual assistance, other than performing the task in front of them, and now I think that would have been helpful for "normal" memory types. The good thing about my memory is that once I understand WHY something is done, I've got it, it's in the vault. I actually do better than most others once that lightbulb goes off. Sometimes it just takes a while to really have that understanding. I am very detail oriented and technical; I can pick up computer operating systems quickly, they make sense.
Face/People Recognition - I have a hard time identifying characters in a movie, especially if they are wearing similar clothing or haricuts. I even have difficulty remembering my waitperson after talking to them directly. I usually remember if they were Female or Male, but not always. If I need something from them, I am awful at locating my wait person. I usually end up asking some random employee. Once I am familiar with the person, I will recognize them, but there has to be some kind of connection made. This has proven to cause quite a bit of embarrassment when I run into someone I have met and have zero recollection of who they are or where I met them. Unfortunately, this has happened more than a handful of times. It makes the other person feel bad and that's the last thing I want to do.
Another thing I noticed that I believe fits in this section, is how people can imitate others. I now understand how they can do that; they actually have a mental image of that person doing something. They can see them moving, hear them talking and then interpret that to an imitation. That was one of the many lightbulbs that went off in my head while researching Aphantasia. I mean how does someone tell a sketch artist what someone looked like after a crime? Not only face blindness but adrenaline flowing as well. But some people can remember down to the angle of their eyes and shape of the mouth. That has always been such a mystery to me, how can people do that? Now I understand, they actually SEE the face.
Processing Information - One thing I have been wondering is if Aphantasia has anything to do with how fast my brain processes information on the regular. I have been called a fast thinker when I come to a conclusion quickly and process what is in front of me quicker than others. I notice this when playing games, learning and putting things together during a conversation. I have the ability to see the big picture which allows me to put things in place and make decisions quickly. It drives me crazy when it takes my mom 5 mins to make a move in a game. I can understand that a bit better now, so learning this about myself has also helped me understand others. Others have all kinds of images they are needing to process to decide. And after sharing my findings with my family I have determined that my mom is a Hyperphantasic. Her memory is amazing, she remembers everything from her childhood from 4yrs on. I've always been jealous of that kind of memory.
I even understand how Chess works and what they mean by look ahead 5 moves.
Psychedelics - In the Aphantasia community, I have FINALLY found kindred spirits when it comes to experimenting with certain drugs. Aspirin, Antihistamines, pain killers and other prescribed drugs work just fine. But when I have taken any illicit psychedelics, nothing happens. The first time I noticed I was not as affected as others was in college. I just figured everyone else was really exaggerating and I wasn't interested in trying again. But I have since tried experimenting again with my husband who has gotten into Microdosing. We thought it would be interesting to take a recreational dose. He had an awesome time with lots of visuals and motion. For me, nothing. I could make the grass or a picture on the wall get "movement" but nothing like what he was experiencing. Decided to try again, this time with my sister and husband. I took a double dose this time just to make sure I would feel something. Nope, nothing. I have tried up to 10g at a time with nothing (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, DONE BY A PROFESSIONAL). I have never heard of anyone else having this kind of experience until I joined this group. There have been several people indicate they have similar experiences including one who even called out that they don't feel anything more than a minor wavey feeling.
Now I think it is probably for the same reason we don't have a "minds eye". Some synapses somewhere are not sparking normally. I do believe for some Aphants, this does actually lead to some visual or other sensory experiences they have not had before. But for some of us, we don't have the ability to "Trip". This is probably the only thing I have found that I don't like about Aphantasia. I have been able to put a positive spin on most of what I have found, but I do wish I could experience that feeling others have while taking a "Trip".
Where do you see yourself in 10 years? – This is a question that I have had to answer many times in my career, it is one of the favorite questions asked during an interview. I’ve never been good at answering that question. Others would provide great details on where they see themselves going, but I have never had the ability to look that far ahead. I don’t see myself anywhere specifically, I tend to follow the opportunities that come my way.
In conclusion (yes finally almost done) I've gone 57 years telling myself I can improve my memory, "I'll remember that if I really think hard" but I never do. Or I try to make sure I am "Present" so I can remember, nope, doesn’t help either. Now that I have an answer that explains my brain is acting differently than most people, I don't kid myself anymore. I'm just not going to remember and that's OK, that's how my brain works and part of who I am. There is nothing I can do about it, no more wasted time working on my memory!!
I can honestly say I am grateful to learn about this memory process and for the ability to move on from difficult situations. There are many more things I could get into, but that would be an even bigger book. My sister can get stuck on something that is difficult for her to get past, the images of bad things “haunt” her. For me, as soon as the actual event is over, it may take a few days depending on the severity, it is buried and does not "pop in" and bring me back. If only I had known this when I was younger, I can only imagine what I could have accomplished! I imagine my self-doubt/hate could have been less with this information as well as the therapist bills that could have been saved. This is such important knowledge, I am so happy to see research being done!! I only hope the information continues to spread so more people are aware. I don’t know if all the things above are in direct relation to Aphantasia, but my eyes have been open to these differences.

I had a friend I knew since we were 10, lets call her Raya. Me and her have been pretty close, or I thought. We would always hang out, do things together, etc. but we had a pretty bad fall out recently because I couldn’t tell her everything I wanted to say.
Starting from the beginning, Raya moved into a flat pretty close to mine because it was close to her college. I took that as a great opportunity to hang out with her more because we were already so close. So i start inviting her over to mine, inviting her to outings, and to parties i went to.
We were mostly fine, up until my birthday party. I was in a sad mood because a lot of my friends weren’t able to attend, and Raya wasn’t exactly helping me in any way either. She was just talking a lot and not letting us get a word in. She would constantly interrupt whatever I was gonna say and it was really discouraging for me. When things like that happen I tend to go nonverbal. While at the party me and another one of my friends were talking about how low our pay is and how we could barely afford rent and stuff. And Raya decided to butt in and brag about how much she made at her current job, and how she was able to pay her parents bills. It made me really upset because I started comparing myself to her. I was taking a break year and working full time so it made me feel like a failure because how was she able to do all that on top of juggling school. And months later I confronted her about it, she said she was trying to make me feel better by letting me know she had my back. But I still don’t understand how that even correlates to what she said. She also had to ask my boyfriend what to get me for my birthday, which I felt hurt by because she’s known me since elementary school.
Another incident was at a party I invited her to she kept flirting w my boyfriend’s friend. She had a pretty bad record with guys, and she tends to dump them at the drop of a hat. Neither me and my boyfriend wanted that for his friend so we told her to cut it out. But, a week later we go to another party and she does the same thing. And she did it at every party I invited her to, even when she started dating someone else. I wish I had her boyfriends social so I could have told him, but I didn’t.
I eventually confronted her about all those things, and her first response wasn’t an apology or acknowledgment that she did wrong. It was that she was autistic (i did know this beforehand), and had a hard time understanding social queues. I also told her that i felt our relationship was very much one sided, and how I felt like she knew nothing about me and how I always had to make plans with her and how she never texted me first. I felt like she didn’t care about me and was using me for the things I did for her. She said she had no idea i felt that way and would like to start over with me to get closer. I was hesitant but i eventually said yes.
The next month was fine, we hung out and she even initiated it a couple times. But as time went on I kinda realized if she really cared about me she would’ve already been doing those things. She got a new boyfriend and was gushing about how well she knew him and how she’s getting him a super personal gift and it planted that seed in my head. I don’t want to be treated like her boyfriend lets make that clear. But all the basic things she knew about him like his birthday and his job, it made me realize she didn’t even know those things about me.
I hosted another party later that month and I invited her one last time. It was already cemented in my head I wasn’t going to be friends with her anymore after that. So party starts and she does her Raya thing. Constantly talking over people, bragging about this that and the third, and whatever else. It was really annoying me and I was kinda drunk at that time. She told me, in a way i think she thought was funny, ‘haha im so drunk i got your boyfriend and his friend mixed up’ and I just thought ‘ugh i want her to leave’. And for context boyfriend and his friend are both black but thats where the similarities end. So i was like ‘They look nothing alike what are you racist or something?’ And it sobered both of us up. I knew she was upset and pretty soon after she left.
I apologized the next morning and she was like ‘I need time to think on it’. We didn’t speak for a month and then she texts me out of the blue ‘its fine, i forgive you. But dont do that again’. So I thought it would be another reset. I invited her for a girls night with my other friend, but my other friend couldn’t show up so I tell Raya ‘hey other friend cant come, but youre still free to come right?’ And she was like ‘Uh no i have an exam to study for’ even though she initially agreed to come when my other friend was gonna come.
I decided then and there I didn’t want her in my life anymore so I invited over Raya to my house one last time and told her I didn’t wanna be her friend anymore. And she gets so mad, she leaves and goes home and sends me paragraphs about how friendship isn’t about how much you know about a person but being there for them. And how I never acknowledged her autism and how I always treated her like shit and how I was the same girl i was in high school (i wasnt the nicest then i can admit).
But my issue was, i know autistic people need to be told things very directly but I told Raya countless times before I wasn’t raised in an environment where i could freely say what I feel, it was literally the reason I was in therapy (and she knew i was going too). And i also tended to get overwhelmed by my emotions and go nonverbal. But I guess she also decided to not remember that about me. I could have done it better, i could have been nicer, and i could have told her that we just weren’t compatible as friends anymore. I wish I hadn’t said what I said at the last party. And i hate how our friendship crashed and burned so quick. She was so important to me, but it’s better for the both of us to not be friends anymore I think. But I cant help but think I couldve done better.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

My downfall according to my father began in the last two years. Our relationship had always been rocky but it was fine. In front of my family friends we always look so close and he is so proud of me...but I know he hates me for not being more, particularly these last two years. I am gonna be honest...my downfall really began in high school, but I think he doesn't want to say it. I put on the hijab in junior years of high school and he was okay with it, but said it was not something he sees as necessary. But because all the uncles and aunties praised me like oh she is so pretty but she covered up and started using me as an example in the the group.. like it was so embarrassing. ESPECIALLY the uncles like one of them turned to his wife and started lecturing her on the spot like you don't wear it and she is so much better...and then they all praised my dad (like this was his accomplishment) and therefore he was pound of it. Like yeah my daughter covers up....
But hijab was just the first thing...I started pushing way from all of it...the journey of med school and all. I never cared for it. When college started, I started as a pre-med student but I KNEW I wasn't living up to the potential of a future doctor. I didn't do any extracurriculars or volunteering (part of it was COVID during the first two years) but the last two...I should have done more. But I was enjoying living the muslimah life to much. I went class yes, but nothing else just straight home. I don't know I felt like I was living in a daze...I went to class, then home, study, sleep, pray, class, then home, study sleep, pray.... And my parents loved that. I know It now. They liked this version of me...this girl was the perfect girl...she does well in school but also looks and acts like a proper traditional girl, never talking to guys, never social media, like I didn't even know about reddit until last year and made my first post actually 4 months ago something about being lost after postundergraduate...funny thinking 4 months back I thought everything was fixed.
I gave into my impulses...I wanted to be married and live that period drama hallmark simple life *we have it hard, but through faith and God we will make it through* life. I also think I highly romanticized the idea of marriage and the saving yourself for him maybe to other people too far. In the last two years, I went into some weird vortex or something. I just wanted to be the girl who lived for him I think 🤦🏻‍♀️....its silly and cringe and I know that now. But it made sense then okay, like in order for you to get into really good research labs, you have to work with others but I just couldn't...I wanted to never speak to another guy unless absolutely necessary life or death situation. Which again I understand is silly....🙄 no need to rub it in like everyone else I know. So I kind of did something really bad... I knew what I was doing even though later I feigned innocence. I switched my major from a science major to art...[and if my brother sees this.....it is still a subject you could get into med school with just no longer that "it" popular major for premed for the last TimE AND I WILL DELETE THIS LATER SO STOP AND LET ME GET MY ANGER OUT AS I HAVE NO OTHER WAY OF GETTING IT LITERALLY STUCK IN THIS ROOM ALL THE TIME]
Anyway, in the last 7 months the number of fights here was record breaking. I finally stated I didn't want to do anymore schooling. At one point I told my mom how I don't really care for a career and wanted to be married to the love of my life and I accidentally showed her or I think I told her after watching a movie (I cannot remember there has been too much going on) my Pinterest board of things I want to do as a wife...stuff like baking for him, and making his lunch...and really embarrassing things. ANYWHO.. she told my dad and well ensue the yelling and crying. I started feeling bad...thus enter studying for the entrance exam and racking in volunteer hours. I even stated working part time for "customer experience" and to see "how life is difficult and giving up on a career is stupid." TO my girls who work retail wow just seeing how horrible it is. LIKE LITERALLY HARASSMENT IN RETAIL IS REAL My first week this customer started following me around the store and asked me to out and I said no and then he came back and would not leave literally had to to get security on him. then came entering the job field and then to tie it all together the topic of the hijab. My dad hates that I wear it because it stopped a lot of reputable jobs and uuhgjgghjhhj OMG MY GOD I CANNOT I THOUGHt WRITING THIS WOULD BE CATHARTIC AND IT WAS BUT NOW I AM DONE BECAUSE I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO MAKE SENSE OF THIS AND THERE IS TO MANY DETAILS AND NOTHING REALLY MAKES SENSE and I am tired of the yelling. I tried to explain that to be the girl who gets into top schools and all needs to be someone who has an extensive resume (not just the amount.. quality over quantity) but THEY DON'T EVEN LET ME OUT OF THE HOUSE LIKKEEEE MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. YOU CANNOT HAVE THE GIRL WHO IS BOTH AT HOME TRADITIONAL DOES NOTHING AND THE GIRL [WHO ALSO IS GOOD I think if there is any muslims girlie out here trying and living according to the Quran and Hadith and following your dreams to become a doctor to help people, then you do you I am not judging you at all..this is just my thing with my parents] who GOES OUT TO VOLUNTEER AND DOES INTERNSHIPS LIKE HELOOOOOOOO THIS IS NOT BACK HOME WHERE ALL YOU DO IS STUDY AND GET IN. YOU NEED TO BE AN ALL ROUNDER APPLICANT WHO DOES A LOT OF OTHER THINGS NOT JUST STAY HOME
But it's okay..since he SO BADLY WANTS ME TO BE THAT GIRL....I WILL. I HAVE NO ISSUE BEING THE GIRL WHO GETS THINGS DONE. WHEN I AM DONE, WE WILL SEE WHO WINS THIS FIGHT. THIS COMPLETE 180 THAT I AM ABOUT TO TAKE IS JUST GOING TO MINDBLOWING. YOU WANT NO HIJAB ME..FINEEEEEEEEEEEEE AND TO MY MOM WHO IS ALL "SINCE YOU WANTED TO BE MARRIED SO BADLY...WHY DIDNT YOU JUST BRING SOMEONE HOME" I WILLLLLLLL. I DENIED THEM IN THE PAST because I WAS SHY AND I WAS TRYING TO BE RESPECTABLE DAUGHTER FOR YOU........BUT LETS SEE HOW MANY YOU CAN TURN AWAY NOW

My boyfriend got mad at me for blocking her classmate, as he is bothered about what this girl will think if she sees that she is blocked on my boyfriend’s account. I just want to feel secure in our relationship and not feel anxious about him cheating on me again. Please let me know if I am wrong for taking this action. I just want the best for us.
I blocked my boyfriend's classmate on his account for several reasons:
1.) I checked his phone, and I saw that he was searching his classmate's social media account.
2.) He told me that he just accidentally clicked her account; later on, I brought up what he did, and he confessed to me, saying that he literally took a look at her account, and he just lied because he didn't want me to get angry. He told me that he took a look at her account because he was curious as he saw that his classmate was viewing his stories even though they are not mutual on any social media. This made me wonder if she is interested in my boyfriend because, as a girl, this is my way of showing interest in a guy (like, let me show you that I am viewing your stories even though we're not mutuals, just so you know that I am checking on you and I am interested in you).
As a woman who has experienced cheating before, this issue was very serious to me. I have trust issues and insecurities as I caught him talking and inviting other girls to come over and hang out (drinking).
3.) My boyfriend and THIS classmate are in the same circle of friends (which was made up just recently), so they have been adding my boyfriend to a group chat where there are a lot of girls (his classmates). It gets me annoyed every time somebody in the group chat says something to my boyfriend about things that are not related to school. My boyfriend will respond to those chats, but I told him to stop entertaining them if they are not school-related because it makes me feel uncomfortable, especially since this classmate that we argued about is included in the group chat.
4.) I saw a picture of THIS classmate being very close and touchy to another man, even though she has a boyfriend. She was also sending pictures of cigarettes, like, girl, for what reason? (My boyfriend loves smoking cigarettes), some nonsense stuff, a picture of her face with her revealing clothes (I don't know if it's because she wants to look cool or what), in the group chat, knowing that there are boys in there and anyone can see what she sends. The thought that she is doing this even though she has a boyfriend made me realize how trashy his classmate is, and I don't want my boyfriend around her.
Am I wrong for blocking this classmate on my boyfriend’s account, as I don’t want this kind of girl around him? I am thinking that this classmate is interested in my boyfriend, and my boyfriend is also interested in her, as I caught him checking her profile.

Just recently I've had a close friend of mine venting about something pretty messed up that happened some years ago, even before I knew them (we've been knowing each other for about an year and a half).
It involves their step-father, and now, while neither they explained further in detail what exactly happened, nor am I going to for privacy reasons, it was pretty bad.
[TRIGGER WARNING: I am going to give a clearer explanation of the situation as I believe that, in order for you to understand, I should provide a more detailed telling of what happened. However, if you believe to be someone sensitive or you're not used to hear about explicit and traumatic stories, then I recommend you to skip the next paragraph, or just stop reading the post for your own good.]
Anyways, as I previously said, I haven't been given many details, but enough to know in what kind of situation my friend was in. It started when they were at the end of elementary school, and finished when they were about in middle school; while they said that the abuser never went as far as "deflower" them, he still has done something that is depraved enough to make him into a child predator. I'm pretty sure that I can't describe it in here because of Rule 4, but I don't feel like saying it anyways because it would be disrespectful towards my friend's regards (they don't know that I'm posting about this, but I feel like there's something deeper about it and I need answers; that's the main reason why I'm trying to be as transparent as possible).
They still live with their step-dad, but they just avoid him. I've always noticed it, yet I didn't know the reason until recently, though I've always noticed that they avoiding him that way was weird even for a step-dad - kid relationship, and so I've kind of thought that there was something more. I didn't expect it to be so serious, obviously.
Now, I didn't come here just to vent about a traumatic story a friend told me, and I don't need you to believe if it was real or not. I've come here to tell you because it made me have many thoughts about it.
I know the post it's starting to get long, so I'll try to cut it short. Really, I apologize for it being so long, but I feel like I need to share this.
For context, I've been in the internet not as long as many have here, but I've heard some of the most disturbing and depraved stories around on the internet. I've been watching Iceberg videos about true crime stories and some seriously messed up topics, even from reddit or 4chan, so It's not the first time I hear something messed up.
I've also had other friends share very traumatic and disturbing experiences, especially from when they were very young, that could be almost even worse.
If I'm going to be honest, I'm not going to say this to belittle this person's experience, but I've heard some things that could be way much worse and intense, like things that you can hardly recover from if you live them. That was just to clarify that I'm, if not completely desensitized, hard to impress.
So, while they were telling me this, I've felt a strong feeling of anguish that I haven't felt in years from hearing this kind of things, and I was starting to get incredibly uncomfortable, like as if it was something that had to do with me personally, and not just as a friend listening.
The feeling has lasted for almost an hour, and even when I would hear stories of this kind, and would get the chills from it being it too gruesome, I've never thought about it so intensely, and for so long.
I've also felt kind of guilty, and if I had to give a reason for it, it would be probably because I've made some pretty dark humored jokes that were close to the topic, though it's the humor that me and them are used to, and I've never seen them get uncomfortable at them, and they've done some pretty dark toned jokes about it to (it was before I found out about this fact, that's also why I didn't really expect it, especially because this friend as hardly ever been open about traumatic experiences). But at the same time, I still feel guilty about it, even after knowing that it's not my fault since I didn't know about this, and also because they still seem to be comfortable when I do that kind of jokes, so I don't know really why I feel this way.
I've also never felt so personally involved in a story of a deeply traumatic experience, and while I still felt disgusted, I've felt very deeply disturbed while hearing it, and afterwards.
I don't know if it's because, while other people venting to me about this have felt more free, while this friend was cleary hesitant about telling it. Though they didn't seem uncomfortable about the experience itself, but rather what would I have thought of them after hearing it and if my personal view about them would've changed (of course it didn't). In fact, they have referred that they were "fine" about it (I'm guessing they meant that they recovered from it, yet I'm sure that nobody recovers completely from something like that), and they were chuckling about it, but it was clear that their laughter came from nervousness, which makes completely sense, because someone will hardly feel completely comfortable about telling something like this.
But what I'm just saying is, they didn't look anguished or deeply scarred from it, thankfully, so I don't think that it was their tone or body language to make me feel that bad about it.
Now, I've made this post for a question that involved mostly me rather than them. I hardly recollect any memories that go from my early childhood to about 4th-5th grade. I've already mentioning that I can be very paranoid, and I think a lot, maybe even too much. But you could already tell from reading this.
I feel like as if my brain wiped away part of my childhood. I still have some memories about some friends I've made, and some games I used to play, but I hardly remember anything that I haven't been told from my parents. I've felt like this way before I was told this story, by the way.
Now, for context, I live in a healthy household, and no one from my family has never abused me. I've never been bullied or abused by adults, at least not at the point for it to be traumatic, and I don't live in a place where there's a high crime rate. Besides, I've never left home alone until middle school.
I'm don't know much about psychology, but I know that sometimes it can happen that your brain erases traumatic memories from the past, yet they still remain in your subconscious, so they can still have effect on you.
Now, going straight to the point, I've already said that I'm paranoid, but I'm very afraid that something important from my childhood might have been erased, and I can't remember it at all.
I'm not saying that anything actually happened, but I've also never felt this strange in a while, so what I'm looking for is answers, and if you would mind to answer my doubts it would be very kind of you, after all is what I've been writing this post for.
Feel free to ask any questions, however keep in mind that I won't give away very private or specific information about my or my friend's personal life. Also consider that I' a minor, just so that you might think twice before asking certain questions.

I was in a christian cult - not using the word lightly, they literally wanted to "take over" the city we were living in and openly talked about their indoctrination tactics and did not shy away from the manipulation aspects.
I got divorced and got out, but I have a child with my ex husband and we share custody nearly 50/50. I have her 4 nights a week and do all school drop offs, he has her 3 nights a week including Sunday morning church. I also have another, younger daughter.
As a single mom of 2 working at the local community college, I do not make enough money to be comfortable. Everything is paycheck to paycheck, and often things get in the negative before I can figure it all out. I recently reapplied for food stamps and found out I was going to qualify for the bare minimum because I couldn't claim her on my application after he and his wife had claimed her and started receiving benefits. Even still, I make every effort imaginable to continue to give my family a good life and never allow our lack of finances to negatively affect giving my girls a magical childhood.
In general we have a good coparenting relationship. We don't interfere with each other's lives, we are flexible and work together when things come up. Before his new wife came into the picture, I did all the work of finding a good school and moving into that area, even though he wanted her to attend christian school, I take care of all her doctor, dentist, etc., appointments. I hold her social security card and birth certificate. I keep track of who gets what holidays in a year. His new wife came in and has been so kind and respectful, my daughter loves her, and I'm grateful he married someone who will be good to my daughter.
–
I am worried now, because a few weeks ago, out of the blue, my daughter was upset about "having to tell her friends she won't see them next year, when she goes to a new school."
I reached out to her dad and his wife and asked "hey, she said this "XYZ" and before I react, I just wanted to ask you guys about it. I don't know of any plans to change her school"
They responded about being in the process of interviewing for a new job outside of town and hoping for it. They had asked my daughter how she would feel about changing schools as a way to take her preferences into account when making the decision, but nothing had been decided and they had not officially been offered the new job.
A few weeks went by and two separate times on a pickup day they told me she would be at her aunt's house because they were BOTH going to be in the other town at an interview for this job.
Today he reached out and told me "we" got the job, and they'd like to sit down and talk about logistics and dynamics and things.
–
I am extremely worried that this new job is something church related, as I can't think of anything else that would interview a husband and wife together.
I am extremely worried that he is going to request that my daughter moves in with them during the week and attends a new school closer to their new house.
I am scared for my daughter. The christian schools in my area (if not in general) are known for being absolutely vile - lying, promiscuity, drugs, much worse than the public schools because the religious families raise kids who are better at hiding things from their parents and other adults. I'm scared because my girl is so sweet, so innocent, and so impressionable. I wanted to raise her to be able to confidently make her own decision whether she wanted to believe in those things or not, and I'm worried that she will be indoctrinated in a cult-like way by these people who openly, proudly, flaunt those cult claims.
I am also very worried that by fighting for her to stay with me, I am not going to be doing what's best for her. I don't make much money. I'm a single mom. I don't have that kind of social community and network, like... if I'm struggling, I don't have anyone else to turn to. We always have food, whether I get to eat it or not. We don't have power or water shut off, we're not at risk of homelessness, but that's because I work myself to exhaustion making sure I have the resources to keep things on and paid. I was paid on the 10th and I was getting an overdraft fee last night because bills needed to be paid. Like. How can I possibly be able to do what's best for her? I don't want things to change like that. I do want what's best for my daughter, but how do I give her that as a single mom in this economy in this capitalistic hellscape? I don't even know if there's advice for this situation, I just don't know who to ask.

I was in a christian cult - not using the word lightly, they literally wanted to "take over" the city we were living in and openly talked about their indoctrination tactics and did not shy away from the manipulation aspects.
I got divorced and got out, but I have a child with my ex husband and we share custody nearly 50/50. I have her 4 nights a week and do all school drop offs, he has her 3 nights a week including Sunday morning church. I also have another, younger daughter.
As a single mom of 2 working at the local community college, I do not make enough money to be comfortable. Everything is paycheck to paycheck, and often things get in the negative before I can figure it all out. I recently reapplied for food stamps and found out I was going to qualify for the bare minimum because I couldn't claim her on my application after he and his wife had claimed her and started receiving benefits. Even still, I make every effort imaginable to continue to give my family a good life and never allow our lack of finances to negatively affect giving my girls a magical childhood.
In general we have a good coparenting relationship. We don't interfere with each other's lives, we are flexible and work together when things come up. Before his new wife came into the picture, I did all the work of finding a good school and moving into that area, even though he wanted her to attend christian school, I take care of all her doctor, dentist, etc., appointments. I hold her social security card and birth certificate. I keep track of who gets what holidays in a year. His new wife came in and has been so kind and respectful, my daughter loves her, and I'm grateful he married someone who will be good to my daughter.

I am worried now, because a few weeks ago, out of the blue, my daughter was upset about "having to tell her friends she won't see them next year, when she goes to a new school."
I reached out to her dad and his wife and asked "hey, she said this "XYZ" and before I react, I just wanted to ask you guys about it. I don't know of any plans to change her school"
They responded about being in the process of interviewing for a new job outside of town and hoping for it. They had asked my daughter how she would feel about changing schools as a way to take her preferences into account when making the decision, but nothing had been decided and they had not officially been offered the new job.
A few weeks went by and two separate times on a pickup day they told me she would be at her aunt's house because they were BOTH going to be in the other town at an interview for this job.
Today he reached out and told me "we" got the job, and they'd like to sit down and talk about logistics and dynamics and things.

I am extremely worried that this new job is something church related, as I can't think of anything else that would interview a husband and wife together.
I am extremely worried that he is going to request that my daughter moves in with them during the week and attends a new school closer to their new house. I am scared for my daughter. The christian schools in my area (if not in general) are known for being absolutely vile - lying, promiscuity, drugs, much worse than the public schools because the religious families raise kids who are better at hiding things from their parents and other adults. I'm scared because my girl is so sweet, so innocent, and so impressionable. I wanted to raise her to be able to confidently make her own decision whether she wanted to believe in those things or not, and I'm worried that she will be indoctrinated in a cult-like way by these people who openly, proudly, flaunt those cult claims. I am also very worried that by fighting for her to stay with me, I am not going to be doing what's best for her. I don't make much money. I'm a single mom. I don't have that kind of social community and network, like... if I'm struggling, I don't have anyone else to turn to. We always have food, whether I get to eat it or not. We don't have power or water shut off, we're not at risk of homelessness, but that's because I work myself to exhaustion making sure I have the resources to keep things on and paid. I was paid on the 10th and I was getting an overdraft fee last night because bills needed to be paid. Like. How can I possibly be able to do what's best for her? I don't want things to change like that. I do want what's best for my daughter, but how do I give her that as a single mom in this economy in this capitalistic hellscape? I don't even know if there's advice for this situation, I just don't know who to ask.

I may have missed some more recent (late 2023-24) declarations, so let me know if I should add anything I've missed.
Stugotz personal record book. Sorry if the links are expired on some things. They're old.
[Time Stamps] Started to use them in late 2019. They may not be exact based on what podcast app or service you use. But they'll be close.
I DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS:

FOOTBALL

(1) UCF is the 2017-2018 national champion.
(2) If Kirk Cousins goes to the Jaguars and not the Jets, no championship he wins will count in the personal record book.
Note (2)(a): Still pending sort of since Kirk is with the Vikings now – possible in future he could go to Jags.
(3) Eli manning has 1 ring. He doesnt get one for throwing a ball into David Tyree's face / Tyree getting a football stuck in his helmet.
(4) Carson Wentz has a Super Bowl 52 ring.
Note (4)(a): Foles does not have a Super Bowl 52 ring.
(5) The Raiders defeated the Patriots in their divisional playoff matchup in 2002 (Tuck Rule game), and then would defeat the Rams in Super Bowl 36.
Note (5)(a): In this scenario also, Bill Belichick was also "fired and looking for a job" after the Tuck Rule game and has 0 rings.
(6) If the 2017 Patriots won Super Bowl 52, James Harrison would not have a ring (Patriots lost to Eagles).
(7) Peyton Manning has one ring (Broncos ring does not count).
(8) Peyton Manning must give such ring he lost (above) to Von Miller, who thus has 2 rings.
(9) Aaron Rodgers can have all the rings he wants for keeping all of central Wisconsin employed.
(10) Brian Billick has 0 rings (2000 Ravens Super Bowl) because that defense carried him.
(11) Tony Boselli is a Hall of Famer.
(12) Tarik Cohen is an honorary Jew.
(13) JuJu Smith-Schuster is also an honorary Jew. L'Chaim.
(14) Drew brees has three rings for winning the super bowl for the city of New Orleans.
Note (14)(a): There was discussion on this where the number started at three, went up to five, came down to two, but it ended up at three.
(15) Mike McCarthy has no Super Bowl rings.
Note(15)(a): Dan also has this in his record book, and it is the first entry into the Le Batard Personal Record Book.
Note 15(b): In fact, McCarthy has -3 (Negative three) rings.
(16) Any Super Bowl rings Antonio Brown gets with the Patriots will not count in the Stugotz personal record book (9/9 Weekend Observations National Hour 2).
(17) Ohio State's 76 to 5 victory over Miami (Ohio) on 9/21/19 does not count.
(18) Due to Bill Belichick's 219 wins with Tom Brady, Bill's week 7 2023 victory over the Bills was actually his 81st victory and not his 300th victory.
(19) The 2002-03 Miami Hurricanes actually won the Fiesta Bowl/BCS National Championship game against Ohio State.
(20) If JJ Watt joins the Texans for the 2024 season or later on, none of the Super Bowl rings will count in Stugotz's personal record book

BASKETBALL

Kevin Durant
(1) If Westbrook wins a championship and beats Kevin Durant along the way in the playoffs, Westbrook will have won 2 championship rings.
(2) "STRAP IT ON BOYS, GONNA TAKE YA FOR A RIDE:"
Kevin Durant has 0 rings (Zero rings)
Kevin Durant has -1 rings (Negative 1 rings).
Kevin Durant has -4 rings (Negative 4) (As of 4/11/18)
Note (2)(a): This number is subject to change based on Stugotz altering rings to the "-4" current total. Specifically as seen recently when Stugotz adjusted the number from (i) 0 rings to (ii) -1 rings to (iii) -4 rings.
Note (2)(b): Here is a tweet transcript of the conversation where this was discovered.
Archive link
(3) If Kevin Durant wins an NBA title for the NY Knicks, he will gain 11 rings.
Note (3)(a): As seen above in "(2)," Kevin Durant has -4 rings.
Note (3)(b): [Math] If Durant were to remain at -4 rings, and subsequently win an NBA title for the Knicks, he will have 7 rings total. This was specifically stated (-4 + 11 = 7), and a question about a non-specifically stated Personal Record Book entry is posed below in "Note (3)(c)(i)."
Note (3)(c): If the Golden State Warriors had won a championship playing 3 on 5 with Kevin Durant, Kevin Durant would have 1 ring.
Note (3)(c)(i): [Confusion] I am unsure if "Note(3)(c)" means he would gain +1 ring, and therefore be "up" to -3 rings total. Possibly, Stugotz means if the Golden State Warriors had won a championship 3 on 5 with Durant, Kevin Durant would be at +1 rings total (Positive 1 rings).
(4) Kevin Durant's dagger in Game 3 did not count, because according to Stugotz, none of Durant's stats count. KD's official statline last night was 0/0/0 and the Cavs blew the Warriors out by 40.
(5) Anything Kevin Durant has done with the Warriors so far is not in Stugotz' personal record scroll.
Note (5)(a): Stugotz did not take his feathered pen and write anything in his scroll (King Roy approves).
(6) Westbrook has ALL of KD's rings.
(7) For every time KD says he doesn't give a BLEEP, Stugotz adds 2 "I do give a BLEEPS" in the personal record book.
(8) Per Dan, speaking on Stugotz' behalf, Kevin Durant has no Olympic Gold Medals (9/18/19 National Hour 1 @ 00:07:50).
Michael Jordan
(1) Jordan has 9 rings because:
(a) The Rockets have to give their 2 rings from 1994 and 1995 to Jordan (+2); and
(b) The Bulls would have won the 1999 Finals over the Spurs if Jordan didn't retire (+1; 9 total).
Note (1)(a-b)(i): Put LeBron's rings in a box and put Jordan's rings in a box. Jordan is +6 by the way over LeBron box-minus, despite box-minus sounding like a dumb stat.
(2) Michael Jordan was suspended for 2 years for gambling (Said 4/25/18 Hour 2, 14:30 in podcast).
Note 2(a): HOWEVER, MJ still has 9 rings as see above in (1)(a) and (1)(b).
(3) Any game Michael Jordan played wearing the uniform #45 does not count.
LeBron James
(1) If LeBron James goes to the Golden State Warriors, every Championship he wins will result in a deduction of 2 previously won championships.
(2) The Miami Heat LeBron teams were the GREATEST teams in the history of sports (5/7/18 Local Hour).
(3) The Miami Heat LeBron teams were also the MOST INTERESTING teams in the history of sports.
(4) If, after the 2018 NBA Playoffs:
(a) LeBron does not make it to the finals and the Celtics do; and
(b) The Houston Rockets do not make it to the finals and the Warriors do; and
(c) LeBron goes to the Houston Rockets for the next season, THEN
LeBron is allowed to win rings that count in Stu's personal record book.
Note (4)(a-c)(i): HOWEVER, Harden & Chris Paul - if they remain on the Rockets with LeBron on the team - are not allowed to have any of the rings won with LeBron count in Stu's personal record book.
Note 4(a-c)(ii): To quote the big man Stu (with Dan agreeing of course), "Do it on your own” (Dan agrees here).
(5) If LeBron wins an NBA Championship with the 2018 Lakers roster (as of 7/23/18), then that wins counts for 6 rings.
Note (5)(a): Thus LeBron would have 9 rings.
Kyrie Irving
(1) Kyrie Irving hit one of the biggest shots in NBA Finals History, but was only in that position because of LeBron James. Kyrie Irving, did hit one of the biggest shots in NBA Finals history that won everyone on that team a Ring, except for you (Kyrie). (3/9/20 Hour #3; Google Podcast @ 07:00).
Note (1)(a): Stugotz: "A little revision to the uhhh Stugotz Personal Record Book that I'll come around to writing...or Mike will." I'M WRITING IT YOU IDIOT MORON JACKAL
Misc. Basketball
(1) The Houston Rockets have 0 (Zero) NBA Championship victories.
Note (1)(a): See "Michael Jordan (1)(a)" for reasoning.
Note (1)(a)(i): [Restated Reasoning] Michael Jordan is actually in possession of those 1994 and 1995 Rockets rings because Michael Jordan would have won those championships if he stayed in Chicago.
Note(1)(b): [CONFLICTING HOT TAKE] Stugotz has also said Jordan didn't get the Rockets' rings because he was actually suspended for gambling.
Note (1)(b)(i) NEEDS CLARIFICATION PLEASE. Stugotz keeps going back and forth. In "Michael Jordan Note 1(a)," the opposite of "Miscellaneous Basketball Note (1)(b) is stated because he has gone back and forth on this issue.
(2) Steve Kerr has no rings as a coach. In fact, he has never even coached a game.
(3) Mychal Thompson (Klay's dad) has no rings. (Said on Zach Harper podcast).
(4) Clyde Drexler no rings (Said on Zach Harper podcast).
(5) Giannis Antetekoumpo is pronounced Yani Adababoombo.
(6) As long as James Harden has his beard, he cannot win any championships.
Note (6)(a): If the Rockets win a ring, then the ring goes to the beard.
(7) Lamarcus Aldridge cost the Spurs game 2 of the 2017 Western Conference Semifinals, even though they won.
(8) If the Sixers happen to win a championship, Sam Hinkie gets a ring.
(9) Chris Paul has NOT made a Western Conference Final since he had to join the Rockets to do so.
(10) Michael Jordan winning the NBA Finals in 1999 also means that Tim Duncan only has 4 rings instead of 5 rings.
(11) The Warriors only have 1 ring
Note (11)(a): Durant still has -4.
(12) Boogie Cousins cannot win a NBA Championship and have it count if he does so with the Warriors.
(13) Billy Donovan was the NBA Coach of the Year in 2017 (12/13/17 @ 28:10 Hour 1).
Note (13)(a): The Thunder blowing the 3-1 lead to the Warriors that year had nothing to do with Donovan. It was Durant's fault.
(14) The OKC Thunder actually did win the WCF against the Warriors in 2017 when up 3-1.
Note (14)(a): This does not apply to Durant though.
Note (14)(b): The Thunder also beat whoever they would have played in the Finals. Durant still no ring.
(15) Embiid has his 2023 MVP taken away and given to Jimmy Butler.
(16) Caitlin Clark's NCAA all-time scoring record still belongs to Pistol Pete because unlike Pistol Pete, Caitlin didn't do it in 3 years and she did it with a 3 point line.

BASEBALL

Babe Ruth
(1) Babe Ruth is black.
(2) Babe Ruth never hit a baseball. Not once.
(3) Babe Ruth is the number two black baseball player of all time behind Barry Larkin.
(4) Babe Ruth is NOT a top 20 Baseball player of all time. He's a pitcher.
Note (4)(a): However This is somewhat confusing/interesting because:
(i) Stugotz has said "Babe Ruth is the number two black baseball player of all time behind Barry Larkin; and"
(ii) This MUST mean Stugotz can only have 1 black player in his top 20 Baseball players of all time Barry Larkin; because
(iii) The only way this can work logically is if in the list of greatest players #1 through #20, only Barry Larkin is on the latter top #1 through #20 list. I would like some clarification on if he wishes to change this take/record.
(5) Babe Ruth is also not a top 20 pitcher of all time.
Misc. Baseball
(1) Stugotz has declared that in his personal record book, Baseball no longer allows pitchers to hit (Stated on 05/03/2018 @ 12:38:52 P.M).
Note (1)(a): Excludes Bartolo Colon, and Shohei Ohtani.
Note (1)(b): You are either a pitcher or a hitter. Not both.
(2) If the Dodgers won the 2017 World Series Clayton Kershaw would not have had a ring.
(3) Wade Boggs DOES have a ring because he rode around on a horse with a beer afterward.
(4) Clayton Kershaw did not win an MVP award because the award for pitchers was already given, the CY Young award.
(5) Miami beat LSU in the 1996 College Baseball World Series.
(6) The 1986 NY Mets did not win the World Series against the Boston Red Sox.
Note (6)(a): This "pains" Stugotz.
(7) The Red Sox retroactively winning the 1986 World Series may result in taking a ring away from the Mets.
Note (7)(a): Stugotz has to think about it though, he's not sure yet.
(8) Bryce Harper did not win the 2018 home run derby because he cheated.
(9) Kershaw's Earned Ring Average (ERA) is 0.00.
(10) Mike Minor (Rangers Pitcher) does not have 200 strikeouts in 2019. He's at 199 (National Hour 2, 10 mins 40 seconds in).
Note (10)(a): Chris agrees too. And who really cares (15% on poll do care).
(11) The 2020-2021 Mets, during the Coronavirus outbreak, are 0-3 and Jacob deGrom is somehow 0-1 with a 0.00 ERA and 1 complete game. The deGrominator. (Google Podcast 3/30 Hour #3 @ 19:20)

HOCKEY

(1) Ray Bourque doesn't have a ring.
(2) Alex Ovechkin may or may not have won the Stanley Cup against the Vegas Golden Knights.
Note (2)(a): "I mean he beat an expansion team . . . bunch of players nobody wanted" (We get the sense that Dan agrees).

TENNIS

(1) If anyone wins a major in Female Tennis without Serena Williams playing, it does not count and they have 0 rings.
(2) If Maria Sharapova wins a grand slam in which Serena isnt competing it doesnt count.

GOLF

(1) If Jason Day wins the 2018 Masters, it counts as an American winning (as far as bets are concerned).
(2) Vijay Singh did not play in the 2018 Masters.
(3) Steph Curry did not win the 2023 American Century Celebrity Golf Championship Tournament . Mardy Fish was the real winner.

SOCCER

(1) Lionel Messi is stripped of all his achievements for using HGH. He never played soccer. He is still 5'1". "Fraud."
(2) Soccer is dead.

NCAA DIVISION 1 WOMEN'S LACROSSE

(1) Rachel has more rings than Kevin Durant

MISCELLANEOUS

(1) Aqua?
(2) Rings plus-minus is the only way to measure greatness.
(3) The HBO Andre the Giant film was good, not great, and Stugotz didn’t learn anything.
(4) Benoit Lecomte (guy they interviewed) can not and will not swim from San Francisco to Tokyo in the personal record book because he is most likely taking a dip for a few minutes then coming back on the boat and enjoying some filet mignon by the pool.
Note (4)(a): "Do it without a yacht. And how about ya do it without the little magnetic field around you that keeps sharks away. How bout that. Allows dolphins through though? Anyway.."
(5) Justify (the Horse) only has a double crown.
Note (5)(a): This is the first ever double crown.
(6) Tango and Cash is in the action movie Hall of Fame. and Cliffhanger has the greatest 5 minute intro of any movie of all time.
(7) Maximum Security (a Horse) won the 2019 Kentucky Derby.
(8) Fruit Stripes Gum is NOT a 1st Ballot Hall of Famer in Stu's "Gum Hall of Fame." (08/12/2019 Hour 2 @ 15:25).
Note (8)(a): "It loses it's flavor so quickly"
Note (8)(b): Also, "[...] Bazooka...1st Ballot Hall of Famer." Also, "Big League Chew..1st Ballot."
(9) Chris Cote owns all intellectual property rights to the "Friends" (TV Show) Movie with a misleading preview that eventually has a climax leading to an intense murder mystery. (10/29/19 Hour #2 @ 03:15).
Note (9)(a): "If they make this without crediting Cote, they're stealing it."
(10) That guy killed the pigeon (12/10 Hour 3 @ 08:20).
(11) Billy owns the record for world's longest Plank (2/25, Hour #3; Google Podcast @ 30:55).
Note (11)(a): Possibly in just the Non-Marine edition.
(12) Zach Buchanan won a Pulitzer Prize for his story on the Madison Bumgarner / Mason Saunders rodeo fiasco (2/28/20 Hour #2; Google Podcasts @ 21:35).
(13) Findlay the Golden retriever holds the Stu Gotz Personal Record Book record for most tennis balls held in a mouth at one time by a dog at 6 (2/11/2020)
(14) Ace Davis (The kid who "proved" Tom Brady was cheating with science) and his fathefamily are heroes (4/1 Hour #3; Google Podcast @ 18:50).
(15) Dan did NOT do more push-ups than Domonique Foxworth (Dan did push-ups on a non-linear platform) (4/28/2020 Hour # 1).

SPORTS MEDIA DREAM TEAM™

Sourced from Google Podcast; 05/06/2020, Hour 2 @ 09:00
(Head Coach) Ernie Johnson - "When you look over to the bench, what you need is someone to stand tall, someone who is confident, someone who is competent, someone who has all the credibility -soaked in credibility - when you have the Head Coach of the Sports Media Dream Team."
(1; Point Guard) Mike Greenberg - "Doesn't really want to answer the big questions, but has no problem distributing those questions to other people who are happy to answer them."
(2; Shooting Guard) Stephen A. Smith - "Never met a topic he doesn't like. Short memory, doesn't care, Greeny could throw him anything and Stephen A. is gonna run with it even if he knows nothing about the topic. That is how it works. Stephen A. is the greatest of all time."
(3; Small Forward) Chris Fowler - "A do it all guy. Studio show? Great. Play by Play? Even better. Can do everything."
(4; Small Forward Replacement) Maria Taylor) - "Need Play by Play, need Sideline, need Studio Host - she can do it all"
(5; Power Forward) Dianna Russini - "You need some crazy, some don't mess with us, someone to tear someone's head off in the event that they come after one of us."
(6; Power Forward Replacement) PFT Commenter - "He just comes in and acts crazy, throws his arms and hair around, and give ya 5 to 10 really crazy minutes."
(7; In honor of the Chicago Bulls, Stugotz needed a Wennington, a Purdue) Scott Van Pelt - Dan debated whether or not SVP should be on the Sports Media Dream Team™. That's what he's doing.
(8; Bench Player w/ No Position Specified) Doris Burke
(9) Teased...