For context, I am in University about 50 miles from where she and my parents live, so I commute every weekend and most weekdays to see her. I love her. Plain and simple, in so many ways. We used to work together until she got a better job recently. Yesterday was her birthday. I made her some cookies common in the continent she's from, and baked them into heart shapes. I also got her 25$ of lottery tickets, flowers, her favorite energy drink, and a handwritten card with a lot of writing and drawings of us and her cat. I dropped it off to her in the morning after an all-nighter (going through it with finals and papers right now) and drove to the University to work my full shift. First she texted me thanking me for the gift, then asked me "what the fuck" those cookies were and that she choked on them. I was sad, told her what they were, and she told me I shouldn't have cooked something as a gift since I'm a bad cook. (I am, but I've made other stuff that she liked in the past). She also complained that the whole point of buying lottery tickets is to buy them, not to scratch them (I disagree?). She texted me that I shouldn't have gotten her anything if it was just going to be low effort.
I saw her later that night after she got out of work, and she was mad at me. She said I ruined her birthday by giving such a low effort gift, and that I didn't care about her. She brought up that I ruined her birthday last year too (by not immediately stopping our text conversation about some other girl and wishing her happy birthday the minute it got past midnight). Anytime I responded that I did put effort into the cookies, she would just deny it. Incredibly frustrating since I know how much effort I put in. She was mad the flowers I got her were not in a boquet, only loose, which didn't make it seem like a special occasion. At the heart of it she was mad that my gifts weren't special? To me the card and cookies were plenty special but she just says that it was stuff I've given her other days. She started calling me ret*rded, to which I responded "You're mean to me and I don't like it". I don't remember much of what she said (I'd had 4 hours of sleep in the past 2 nights), but she doubled down and continued calling me a wide variety of hurtful words, from ret*rded to stupid to childish and immature. I was already long sobbing, and in the middle asked her to just hit me instead. She obviously refused. She asked if I even wanted to go on our trip this upcoming weekend. I responded yes, and she replied that maybe I don't if I don't care about her enough to get her a decent gift.
She's horrifically depressed, and I know she has some specific trauma in response to people not caring about her birthdays. I think that explains part of it. Still, I tried. I am also depressed myself. I've tried bringing it up to her a few times and she responds that I'm "always bitching too much" because my life is so perfect. Compared to hers its way better, yes, but that doesn't mean I need a reason to be depressed. She's also acted distant the entire Spring semester. I rarely spend time with her, and even more rarely is it time that isn't just "okay we can see each other for 5 minutes but I have to go in". We havent' had sex since January, or cuddling. I very much miss both of these things, and we've had (rare) opportunities for them shes missed because shes too busy sleeping (I'm not allowed in her appartment to join her, mom discovered we had sex).
At the end of being yelled at when she denied me a hug and told me essentially to go away, I had a nervous break. Honestly I've been working too much and I'm overwhelmed with needing to find a new second job and the immense weight of finals and final essays ,things breaking on my car, and now this. I sped off, her and her mom heard my tires squealing and uninvited me from the trip. I drove recklessly for about 2-3 minutes on backroads while scream-crying about killing myself and fighting the urge to drive into a tree. Not proud of it. But I am devastated about missing the trip. She backed out on us living together, and promised we could have time to cuddle on the trip. I honestly don't feel like I have anything to look forward to.
I do a lot for her. I drive two hours round trip every time I want to see her, sometimes even for 5 minutes to drop off some food before going back. I've spent the past academic year working to support our long-standing plans of moving out together (This past weekend was my first time having more than one day off in a row since accompanying her to her surgery in October). I bring her flowers weekly, at work I do all of the hard stuff for her and massage her shoulders if she feels sore. I bring her food from my University and any treats she wants from the surrounding stores. I always ask if she wants anything. I have never said anything hurtful to her. She apologizes when she hurts my feelings too much and she realizes it, like last night. I spend thousands on her, whether jewelry (the most expensive ring she lost), buying her contacts or paying big bills when shes strugglign like drivers' ed or her wheel bearing replacements.
She texted me that shes sorry I'm not going and that she hurt me but I need to control my emotions better. That she loves me so much and regardless of our fights she will always love me so much. I responded that I felt like an unappreciated chore and didnt want to get yelled at. She replied that I'm not a chore she just hasnt had time and has been too depressed to make time for me. We texted a bit and I slept a few hours until my final/work today. She clearly didn't like me defending myself by saying that if i got a present i didnt like i wouldnt call my partner a "worthless ret*rd" by responding "i never called you worthless dont put words in my mouth...i sent you messages apologizing and being worried and your response is victimizing and arguing more...not happy with ruining my birthday? had to go further and ruin the day after?"
We've been texting each other throughout the day happier things. She's been sending me recipes to be a better cook and wants me to see her for 5 minutes after work in about 2 hours from the time of writing. I want to be with her. I love her, I've done so much, I will continue. But I feel like I'm being verbally abused. And I don't know how to stop it. I'm so overwhelmed with everythign in my life and I really just need someone on my side. I think i'll just first establish a rule of not interrupting/yelling and then telling her how hurt and lonely I feel. That I love her and I can totally work with her on managing time for me and depression but that I cannot tolerate verbal abuse.
TLDR: Gave girlfriend cookies for her birthday. She didnt like them and called me a ret*rd. I had a nervous break from other combined stressors, made a scene with reckless driving, got uninvited to a trip with her and her mom. She is texting me recipes and being nice to me today. I will see her in a few hours. I am hurt and overwhelmed with life and just want to be treated like I'm loved.
Thank you readers

Edit: If you are going to comment on the length of this post, please don't. This is not a simple snark but rather an actual critical think piece about feminism and Taylor Swift.

Introduction

Pertaining to Taylor Swift, "Female Rage" has deviated from its intended meaning after Swift debuted a new performance of The Tortured Poets Department during the Eras Tour. Now, according to Swift's use of the phrase, female rage is interpreted as public backlash against Swift's dating choices rather than as a response to the broader injustices against women and women's rights. This post examines Taylor Swift's flawed feminism, philanthropy, branding, and the controversial trademark petition for the phrase "Female Rage: The Musical". Swift's background as an entertainer, indeterminate politics, and alignment with capitalism over feminism pervades her legacy, again threatening her public tolerance as not just an individual but as a brand.

Once Upon a Female Rage...

If you were cognizant in the early 2010's, you've heard countless jabs at Taylor Swift in the media. Magazines, radio, or online. Music critics did not take her seriously as a songwriter; parents put a woman on an unrealistic pedestal as the ideal role model for their children; she dated too much and used men as lyrical fodder. No matter the story, it inevitably spread, conjoined with everyone's respective opinions, and you'd be left to wonder, "Why does everyone hate this girl so much?"
Taylor's target demographic has always been young or adolescent girls, more so when Swift herself was one. She made music that spoke to the awkward misfit, cultivating a para-social relationship with fans on MySpace, then later twitter, Instagram, and YouTube, where Taylor posted relatable vlogs showcasing the life of a homegrown American girl. Taylor had a delayed public "growing up" and, compared to her female pop contemporaries, Swift never "gratuitously sexualized her image and seems pathologically averse to controversy" (and, apparently, never even had a sip of alcohol until she turned 21). She was more than happy to spin this narrative to allude to an inherent moral superiority above other women in the industry (Better Than Revenge, heard of it?), engaging in the very slut-shaming that she herself endured (the Madonna and Whore archetypes). The victim complex arose with the need to prove Taylor as a different type of pop girl. Based upon her holy and clean image, Swift had been dubbed "a feminist's nightmare", and that "[To Swift] other girls are obstacles; undeserving enemies who steal Taylor’s soulmates with their bewitching good looks and sexual availability." Feminism and Tennessee-Christian country values don't exactly mix, it seems.
Years later, Swift befriended Lena Dunham and thus experienced white feminism osmosis, where Dunham taught Swift that real feminists defend rapists, makes insensitive jokes about rape and abortion, and prioritize all-white casts. Swift then declared herself a feminist in 2014, saying,

"Becoming friends with Lena – without her preaching to me, but just seeing why she believes what she believes, why she says what she says, why she stands for what she stands for – has made me realize that I’ve been taking a feminist stance without actually saying so."

I suppose the male-centric songwriting subject that permeates Swift's discography contained covert feminism and that we just didn't see that. Perhaps, the "Bad Blood" song and music video were written only in jest and not about poor Katy Perry, for Swift, as a feminist, would "never make it a girl fight" or tear other women down (though all Katy did was date your terrible ex-boyfriend and allegedly steal three backup dancers from your tour). In 2013, Swift said, in response to Tina Fey and Amy Poehler's joke towards her serial dating, "There is a special place in hell for women who don't help other women."
There was that time in 2015 Taylor said that Nicki Minaj was "invited to any stage [she is] on" (as if Taylor expects to have access to every stage, award, and platform that Nicki might not otherwise have as a black female artist...yikes!) in response to Nicki's criticism of the white + thin VMA nominations. Later, Nicki responded with confusion, as Swift continued, "It’s unlike you to pit women against each other. Maybe one of the men took your slot..". Of course, this 'beef' was 'squashed' when Nicki performed with Taylor at the VMAs, with Nicki quite literally only having 38 seconds of stage time without Taylor. Maybe all that parading around with a legion of famous white women - similar to the way Taylor might've done with her numerous 1989-era handbags - was in fact a stance against gender inequality, and that this display of "girl power" should be enough to constitute Swift as a feminist icon.
Even while Swift says that Dunham informed her feminist outlook, she dances around the exact contents of those beliefs: "what she believes, what she says, what she stands for" is not exactly insightful towards what beliefs Swift might have inherited. Taylor never broaches women's rights topics such femicide, FGM, forced pregnancy & marriage, sex trafficking, women in slavery, women's financial and political oppression, women's educational rights, women's health, or women's autonomy, so we can assume she only gives a fuck about "girls supporting girls" (whatever that fucking means).
Despite some questionable (and sometimes vindictive) behavior, Taylor as a young woman did not deserve every media lashing that she received. We cannot deny that most headlines and criticisms perpetuated a misogynistic rhetoric which has plagued Swift for a majority of her career. Acknowledging events such as the development of her ED, her sexual assault trial, "Famous" lyric and MV depiction of Taylor, and the explicit Twitter deepfakes, for example, as both disgusting and unfortunate things that happened to a young woman in Hollywood does not negate the fact that Taylor is mostly a performative feminist.

Get Your Fucking Ass Up and Be a Philanthropist, It Seems Like Nobody Wants to Be a Philanthropist These Days

In 2013, Taylor Swift cut the ribbon at the grand opening of the Taylor Swift Education Center at the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville, Tennessee. The donation amount - $4 million - was the largest individual artist gift ever donated to the Country Music Hall of Fame, which is, of course, mentioned on Swift's website. The two-story facility features three classrooms, an instrument room, and an interactive children's exhibit gallery. Swift also performed at "All for the Hall" charity shows and has donated numerous artifacts from her career (such as notable guitars, tour costumes, etc) to the museum.
This was over 11 years ago, and it is still the only notable philanthropic contribution Taylor Swift has made.
For a woman of her net worth and stature, and a woman who recognizes the difficulties for women in film and music, you would think that Taylor Swift might establish a scholarship program for women to study the arts or something. Perhaps Swift might even consider becoming a member of organizations that support female artists, or one that supports LGBTQ+ causes (since she is now proudly an ally), yet she remains superficial with her graces. Broader philanthropy, such as donating relief aid to Palestinian women or women impacted by violence and discrimination will probably never receive any financial support from Miss Swift because then she'd be using her money towards philanthropies involving anyone but white entertainers.
She even says herself in Miss Americana, "My entire moral code as a kid and now is a need to be thought of as 'good'." Well, she's certainly thought of as good, though her actions say otherwise. She's more than happy to do a vaguely altruistic song and dance for a clip-worthy interview quote and mass appeasement, then fuck off to one of her mansions on a 20 minute private jet flight, rather than actually contribute to anything pertaining to the causes she has endorsed. Yet, far too many people continue to give a woman such as her their money, time, and energy, and she hoards these resources to herself.

I Like Some of the Taylor's Songs, But What the Fuck Does She Know About Feminism?

Swift continued with her self-proclaimed feminist campaign, positioning herself as a political activist and LGBTQ+ ally in the Miss Americana documentary. The primary focus of the documentary consists of the sexual assault trial, Andrea Swift's cancer diagnosis, Taylor's ED and body dysmorphia, media scrutiny, and, largely, finally speaking up about her politics publicly, mostly her opposition to the 2018 Tennessee Republican senate candidate, Marsha Blackburn, and Blackburn's beliefs. Swift says, following a scene discussing her experience during the trial,

"I just couldn't really stop thinking about it. And I just thought to myself, next time there is any opportunity to change anything, you had better know what you stand for and what you want to say."

We must ask ourselves, though: when has Swift ever spoken up to change anything? Okay, pulling her entire catalogue from Spotify because they didn't pay their artists enough and similarly pulling her catalogue from Apple Music are changes that she leveraged due to her revenue potential and power, but they are not pertinent to the average woman's rights. Moreover, these are issues that directly impacted Taylor's income, which was enough reason for her to protest in the first place. Swift has sold the most units for a female artist in first week sales, is the first female artist with 100k monthly Spotify listeners, is the first female artist to win the Album of the Year Grammy 4 times, and is the first female artist to do X, Y, and Z, all while being inoffensive and family-friendly to boot. The actual Taylor Swift seems unwilling to compromise the brand of Taylor Swift by contributing in meaningful ways to feminist causes, especially if it is for women outside of America and Hollywood.
The reason political anthems such as "The Man" and "Only the Young" of the Lover era feel disingenuous and corporate is because, well, it is. Taylor has taken every opportunity to advance her career or public image at the expense of other women. What is truly genuine to Taylor's outlook on other women is vying for male attention, taking down female competition, and vocalizing feminist injustices only if they directly impact her and her money. Some will argue that it's satisfactory for a woman with such a huge platform to even TALK about feminism, but that just isn't enough. It's even less impressive when you candidly look at the scope of her feminist lens: "If I was the man, then I'd be THE MAN", or "I really resent the ‘Be careful, buddy, she’s going to write a song about you’ angle, because it trivialises what I do", and, of course, "We all got crowns". Feminism, but only when it happens to me. It gets worse when you look at Taylor's track record of copying other famous women and removing other female artists as potential threats to her pop prowess.
It's good for PR to align yourself with certain blanket feminist and political beliefs, therefore good for branding, therefore good for ticketing and merchandise sales, therefore good for business. And Taylor Swift is a business.
She's not a feminist. Taylor Swift is a capitalist.

I Can't Pay Those Sweatshop Workers a Livable Wage or Benefits! How Else Would I Make My Billions?

Recently, Taylor's team filed to trademark the phrase "Female Rage: The Musical" after Taylor said during Paris N1 of the Eras Tour,

"So you were the first ones to see The Tortured Poets at the Eras Tour...or as I like to call it, 'Female Rage: The Musical'."

This trademark petition was filed last week on Saturday, and news comes about just as numerous unofficial fan-made merch designs have cropped up with this phrase plastered on Fruit of the Loom basics. I'm of the opinion Swift's team motioned for a trademark so that they can send out cease & desists to all those that make knockoff merch, which disrupts potential sales for Bravado, UMG's choice merchandising company; however, since it was filed earlier, perhaps Swift has bigger plans with the bizarre use of the gendered phrase. One Swiftie referred to the phrase "female rage" as "a funny Eras Tour joke". Could it be a possible fourth version of the Eras Tour Movie? Whatever the reason, the motion to capitalize off of such a concept is disgusting, but not unsurprising, for a woman that profits on her vain feminism.
Swift, through her company, TAS Rights Managements, has also trademarked over 200 phrases, including "1989", where she owns the property rights to this calendar year on keychains, phone cases, sunglasses, stationary, bags, beverage ware, clothing, entertainment services, your subconscious, and, of course, Christmas ornaments.
The vapid consumerism in Swiftie culture is, frankly, disgusting. Bravado's sustainability statement is non-existent, the quality control is abysmal, and the materials they use are horrible. The materials, such as acrylic and polyester, are made from petrochemicals. This means they are non-renewable, shed microplastics, and are quite toxic in production. The manufacturing process to make all of those lazy-rushed Eras Tour logo graphic tees is a huge blow to environmental well-being. Apparently, though, Swifties don't give a fuck. They sell out products in seconds and either have to face the manufactured scarcity or buy from a scalper that resells for 200% of the already ridiculous retail price. This doesn't include the environmental impact of vinyl records, CD, and cassette production, of which Taylor produces many variants that sell unsustainable amounts.
If we're talking about women's rights violations, why is no one acknowledging the women that work in the inhumane sweatshop conditions that have to pump out fugly t-shirts and hats? The millions of plastic microfiber dander they are inhaling, or the toxic dyes that touch their bare skin? Are they being compensated fairly for their skilled labour and are they in safe working environments? Do these women have minimal bargaining power, and do they have authority over their worker's rights? Is Taylor Swift female raging at their injustices? Does Taylor Swift ever feels bad that her wealth was built on the backs of women of color, disadvantaged by the demands of the global economy and garment industry? Do you think she ever says a little white feminist prayer for them before she goes to sleep at night?
What's even crazier is not that Taylor herself doesn't care, it's that Swifties don't care. There CANNOT BE ethical billionaires. You only make a billion dollars if you are exploiting other human beings for capital gain. Based on public perception of the possible "Female Rage: The Musical" trademark, it seems like Swifties are already asking for merch with this phrase. "If Taylor made it, I'd buy it." Oh, cool. So not only do you champion Miss Swift's avarice and billionaire status, but you also are unashamed to admit to your blind consumption of her music and merchandise, no matter where they might originate in production or sincerity. Just as Swift takes and takes and takes, Swifties' consumerism of Taylor Swift cannot be quelled.
The tortured artist's most vulnerable and sincere poetry...available now in 21 different versions!

I Am Tortured Poet, Hear Me Whinge

Look - even if Taylor's intention is to characterize TTPD as more "tortured" and "angry", the main thread of the album is "I was ghosted by my decade-long situationship with a controversial indie boy and my fucking stupid fans wrote a 'Speak Up Now' open letter prompting me to drop him" anger, which is adequately expressed in the lyrics and performances. The extent of Taylor's "female rage" on TTPD is on tracks such as "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?", which contends with relentless media scrutiny; "But Daddy I Love Him", where Swift firmly states she'll date whoever she likes no matter how "Sarahs and Hannahs" may react; and "The Albatross", a track mythologizing her reputation and the consequences of dating her. Of course, these coincide with deep psychological wounds that formed during Swift's early years in the media, and so, from her feminist perspective, these subjects tackle the misogyny and double standards that she faced.
Yet Taylor Swift still has no grounds to be claiming that TTPD best exemplifies female rage and therefore she, in the context of this album, is female rage incarnate. As the daughter of a stock broker and mutual fund marketing executive, Taylor was born into wealth and allowed privileges like trips and subsequent relocation to Nashville all so that she might get a record deal. Her father even invested at least $120,000 into the then-fledgling label, Big Machine Records, which ensured Taylor's place with Borchetta after leaving her dead-end development deal with Sony. The fact that her parents were able to buy her a fucking brand new guitar for Christmas and pay for music lessons says so much about the financial security and safety of her childhood.
Money is privilege and protection, and despite Swift's experiences with misogyny and loser boyfriends, she does not know what female rage is.
Her rage is derived from her frustrations with her obsessive fans pulling the moral superiority card on Taylor in response to her rebound with Matty Healy. That's literally it. She's just pissed that the monster she created is no longer obediant, it's become a feral, sovereign entity that depletes the world of its natural resources and thinks it is more intelligent than it actually is because it's mommy has started to talk to it with big words. Apparently, 'illicit', 'elegy', 'nonchalant', and 'precocious' are considerably big words for the oafish monster, and I find it strange that this level of literacy is present in a group of fans that allegedly have GPAs of 3.5 or higher, but I digress.
Taylor Swift has never been one paycheck away from destitution. Taylor Swift has never experienced racial discrimination. She may have instances of gender discrimination, but she possesses the ideal white, blonde American beauty standard and therefore reaps the benefits of being a conventionally attractive woman. Taylor Swift has sufficient social capital. Taylor Swift is a billionaire woman prolonging her victimhood though she, as a woman, has mostly had control over her image and music (unlike her contemporaries). Taylor Swift is NOT entitled to be championed for her "female rage", nor should she be. Taylor Swift has never even been the struggling artist, for fuck's sake. I don't give a fuck if she's trying to fill the empty lunch tables of her past. Taylor Swift purporting herself, her unpolished album, and her lukewarm feminism as a musical bleeding with female rage is asinine.

Sigh Try and Come For My Job, Poors

Out there in the world right now is a 23-year-old woman, a recent college grad, who works as a barista. She has to wake up and get ready to go into a minimum wage job because she cannot get a job in her field. She doesn't have healthcare benefits or sick time, so she has to go into work no matter how she's feeling. All day long she is berated by vicious customers and creepy men, and, exhausted from being on her feet, she knows she has to go home to her shitty roommate that never does the dishes and her roommate's shitty dog. To comfort herself, she considers getting a treat, but thinks against it when she remembers that matcha lattes cost $15 and they taste like milky dirt. She knows that she needs to buy groceries this week, and so the woman resolves to go home, but notices that her gas tank is low. She goes to put gas in the car, but the pump stops at $27.86 because that's all that she has in her checking account. The woman, bereft and reeling, sinks into the driver's seat. "Well," she thinks, her head in her hands, "at least I don't have Taylor Swift's job. I just couldn't imagine."
Fame is somewhat of a choice. If at any moment Taylor feels that she is misunderstood, misconstrued, or overwhelmed by public opinion, she can LEAVE the public eye - Lord knows she has the retirement fund and residuals to do so. In "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart", the TTPD song about meeting the demands of your career-zenith mega-tour while in the relationship trenches, Taylor ends the song by rambling,

"You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart...you know you're good...and I'm good, cause I'm miserable, and no one even knows!...try and come for my job."

Yeah, obviously we wouldn't know, you recently passed the billionaire threshold and are the most famous and in-demand performer in the world right now. Taylor Swift makes an estimated $10 to $13 million dollars A NIGHT on the Eras Tour. Furthermore, the Eras Tour movie grossed $261.6 million globally, (which, as the producer, Taylor takes home 57% of the ticket sales) not counting the streaming revenue from Amazon Prime Video and the estimated $75 million deal that Disney paid to have it on Disney+. We're not even considering the income from cheap plastic popcorn buckets and drink cups plastered with colored squares in her Era-specific likeness.
It's funny. Taylor Swift often said that being famous wasn't hard, that she "isn't complaining". I'm sure it is difficult to always have to present in a good mood, else you'll end up misrepresented in the media, and I'm sure it's invasive to virtually have no privacy or semblance of anonymity. Still, Taylor Swift shows up each night of tour and performs. For a majority of her career, she has penned her sad songs while on the road. Most of "Red", her breakup album, was written in the thick of the Speak Now World tour. Now, some Swifties say they almost "feel bad" for attending the Eras Tour with Swift's revelations in this song, that they have had a 'dimmed experience' upon hearing Taylor's misery whilst performing. Despite the fact that Taylor said that "this was the happiest she's ever been" at Gilette Stadium in May, the lyrics "boohoo, woe is me, smile for the cameras and make the fans happy!!!" are jarring for Eras attendees.
While Taylor Swift was making double-digit millions a night in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and feeling miserable, Ana Clara Benevides Machado passed away due to heat exposure. The concert promoters, Time For Fun, are now the subject of a criminal investigation due to their lack of adequate hydration and safety. Taylor Swift cancelled the Sunday show that was to follow and offered VIP tent tickets to Benevides Marchado's family, which was a kind gesture, but perhaps incongruous to the incident of which they were offered as consolation. Everyone grieves differently, of course, but I'm not sure attending the very show at the very same venue that my daughter or sister passed away in two days prior, where the singer CONTINUED the show despite her death, would be healthy for closure.
There was no female rage at the show as Swift never saw Benevides Machado pass out. There was no female rage towards the disregard for fans as humans while Swift elected to proceed with her Brazil tour dates despite the country being in historic heatwaves (at risk of overheatting herself). If Taylor Swift was so shaken by touring with a broken heart or a fan's passing, she wouldn't have added an additional North American leg of Eras just two months after the Matty breakup. She's brokenhearted but willing to mend the cracks with your money and move onward with her worldwide female rage induced pillaging.
No matter what happens, even if you die at a Taylor Swift concert, Taylor collects a big fat check and flies away. She doesn't know you as anything other than a conversion rate or earning potential despite what her nearly 20-year long parasocial relationship with fans might otherwise indicate. She knows that, while some Swifties are without disposable income, they feel obligated to spend on a "48 Hours Only!" exclusive vinyl variant instead of necessities because they are so entrenched in Taylor Swift's intoxicating celebrity, they'll prioritize materialistic fandom before their needs. This is good enough for her because this means she can expand her real estate portfolio and finance her cat's lavish lifestyles. They're worth an estimated $100 million dollars. Her three cats could pool their net worth and solve world hunger.
While you and I might be denied bereavement leave and barely surviving the current political and economic climate, Taylor Swift has to, instead of gets to, perform for stadiums at full attendance for three nights in a row across the globe. You and I might be replaced by AI at our longtime jobs, but Taylor Swift is threatened with losing more and more money each time you listen to a "Stolen Version" of her songs. If we don't buy every variant of all of her albums, then who is going to pay for the fucking cats?
It is tone deaf to spend as she spends and lives as she lives in this economy, but this is her reality. She was able to donate $100,000 to all of her tour truck drivers, and that's wonderful, but it leads me to wonder about the ethos of the 2020s where one woman can hoard such life-changing amounts of money. Remember in 2014 when she gave a fan $90 ($120 in today's money) to get Chipotle because she had no fucking clue how much it cost? This is a 34-year-old woman who is increasingly out of touch with the reality for working class people and women in general. Normal everyday adults must wake up and go to their thankless jobs, and yet Taylor Swift, despite all her riches, incessantly references the lows of her life and career as a public figure and entertainer to farm sympathy and drive sales. And still, the corporate women have latched onto "I cry a lot, but I am so productive! It's an art!" as their cubicle battle cry.
Do you think that, from up in her private jet, Taylor Swift gazes at the world through her poetic, tortured eyes, and thinks, "All the little people, in their cars, walking, going about their lives...all those girls that don't support girls...do they know that I've made an album about female rage?"

Conclusion/TLDR

Thank you for reading. I would love to hear your critical insights towards this entire ordeal: TTPD, the trademark, the implications of it all.
TLDR: Taylor Swift is a bad feminist and is delusional to think that the TTPD eras set exemplifies female rage at women's injustice.

My boyfriend and I are moving in together and therefore need a larger apartment than either of us currently have. His lease is up 8/31, mine 8/14 but I prefer to have things handled and planned early, giving us both time to move at a leisurely pace.
This weekend we applied for a townhouse with a preferred move in date of 7/20 (because of course, we have a family vacation over 8/1) and had to request documents from or current property management companies. My PM company called me to confirm I wanted this since my lease isn't up until August.
Can someone tell me- am I the crazy person? It's it totally abnormal to be looking this early? I know I'm anxious about this and I want all my ducks in a row but isn't it a good thing to have a plan? I'm willing to pay the double rent for a month to have a good place to be.
Additional info: moving from 2x2 to 3x2.5 in Boise, ID with 2 cats. Very expensive market but alright amount of openings in the area currently. Not many where we want to be in our price range so we want to jump on this.

Synopsis:
Carlos was an ordinary software engineer on Earth, up until he died and found himself in a fantasy world of dungeons, magic, and adventure. This new world offers many fascinating possibilities, but it's unfortunate that the skills he spent much of his life developing will be useless because they don't have computers.
Wait, why does this spell incantation read like a computer program's source code? Magic is programming?
___
Here we go with book 2!
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Carlos lounged comfortably on one of the mayor's fancy sofas. At 23 years old with a healthy body he really didn't need cushioned upholstery, but he liked how it felt. Honestly, he was probably more comfortable with high quality furniture than someone of his relatively low-income background should be in this world. Spoiled by the mass production factories of modern Earth, I suppose. All of this stuff here is probably handmade. Er, make that definitely handmade. Unless they have magic factories I haven't heard about, or something. He mentally shrugged. There was no point trying to change his attitudes toward furniture now. While this world might have higher prices for a lot of things than he was used to, he was also a lot richer than he was used to thanks to having become a noble lord. People would expect him to treat fine furniture as cheap because of his station.
I might have the physical habits of a couch potato, but at least I don't look like one. Too skinny. Not as skinny as Amber, though. He smiled as he watched the young woman next to him on the sofa continue animatedly expounding on their recent adventures together. She was lanky, with few curves to speak of and spindly limbs, far from any conventional picture of feminine beauty. Her hair, a slightly lighter shade of brown than his own, was cropped short. He thought she was 18 or 19 years old, but wasn't sure. Have I really never asked her age before? ... Would that be a rude question here? Regardless of her age, she had grown her confidence a lot since their first meeting a few weeks ago. She'd found her footing in a new life that she'd seized with utter determination, and he saw no sign of the shyness that she'd first greeted him with. The way her potential was finally blooming was beautiful to watch.
Carlos turned his gaze to the sofa across from them and carefully held back from laughing at the expressions Trinlen was making as Amber wrapped up explaining the events and developments they'd gone through since their introduction to him at the Royal Mage Academy. Carlos had contributed a fair amount to the explanation at first, but Amber had taken to it with enthusiasm when she arrived, and he could tell she was enjoying it. The young man in front of them, newly graduated from said academy, was on the edge of his seat and leaning forward, hanging attentively on every word. His casual attire, plain and made of cheap materials, looked thoroughly out of place on the finely embroidered velvet of the sofa, but he'd shown no sign of even noticing the finery around him. Excitement warred for control of his face with surprise, disbelief, envy, and dismay.
Amber finished her impromptu monologue, and Trinlen slowly schooled his face into a neutral expression. His voice was tense and tightly controlled. "So... In short, you're telling me that in the mere two weeks since you met me, you discovered a mana-poaching conspiracy of nobles, were abducted right under the noses of two royal guards without them even noticing, absorbed mana so fast that you gained 6 levels in a day and a half - so unfair, by the way - somehow learned an obscure portal spell from just its name and description, found evidence of a conspiracy against the Crown, and personally met a princess." He paused, then threw his hands up as he wailed in frustration and disappointment. "And I missed it!?"
Carlos threw back his head and burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Trinlen just sounded so much like a little kid who'd barely missed out on a candy store giving away its entire stock for free. It was such an incredible light-hearted contrast with how everyone else viewed these same events that the sheer ridiculousness of it was overwhelming. Amber joined the laughter a moment later, shaking her head in amused disbelief, and after a few more seconds Trinlen started chuckling too.
Carlos's laughter eventually trailed off, and he took a deep breath to settle down. "Thanks, Trinlen. It's been a very stressful two weeks, and laughing like that helped release a lot of it. Feels good. Anyway, what have you been up to? I thought you would take a whole month to graduate?"
"Technically I only said 'next month', not that it would be at the same point in the month. But yes, this is earlier than I expected. The normal graduation ceremony is still a week and a half away." Trinlen shrugged. "They didn't explain the reasons, but after what you said I'm guessing your meeting with the princess prompted her to do something. The vice headmaster called me to his office yesterday morning, a few teachers grilled me on my classwork, and they declared I'd passed my exams. Then they told me to pack because I'd be teleported to my new employers the next day, and here I am." He sighed. "Hmph. Now I won't get to humiliate Norla in front of the whole academy when she gives her speech." Then he perked up and grinned widely. "But it sounds like you two are going to be so much fun that I'll get over it in no time!"
"I'm not sure if I agree with your idea of fun, Trinlen, but if it motivates you to help us more then that's good enough for me." Carlos chuckled again. "Anyway, do you need some time to get settled in? You might need to think about lesson plans for us too. We don't need just catalogues of incantations to learn anymore, at least not for simple ones, but I believe you learned other things in the academy too. You mentioned creating your own spells, as I recall."
Trinlen nodded. "I did mention that, yes. I'm guessing your lack of need for a catalogue is because of your newfound ability to somehow pull entire incantations from thin air? You'll have to at least tell me about the limitations of that so I'll know what I still need to teach you, but yeah, there are other things. For one thing, there's your sloppy terminology! Why does no one outside of the academy care about properly distinguishing between the states of mana? Is it really that hard to understand that calling aether, mana, and essence all by the same term obscures your meaning and often causes confusion? Or are people so stupid that they can't even understand the difference?"
Carlos blinked and exchanged a look with Amber. His comprehension aid informed him about the distinction the instant Trinlen spoke the terms. That would have been nice to know earlier. The comprehension aid is a house secret, so we should let him explain. "At least for us, it's just ignorance. I don't think I've even heard the other two terms you mentioned, and certainly no one ever explained them. So, what is the difference?"
Trinlen paused, cocked his head for a moment, and slowly deflated after his impassioned rant. "Yeah, okay, that's fair. I don't think I ever heard about it before going to the academy either." He sat up straight. "Aether is what you've been calling ambient mana. It's thin like air, and it's everywhere. Its only use is converting it to mana or essence. Mana, using the term with proper precision, is thicker but still fluid like water. It exists primarily in people or creatures and is used as fuel to supply power for spells and magical effects. Essence is hard and solid. It is the material that soul structures are made of, as well as the forms of active spells and enchantments. Am I clear so far?"
Amber answered first. "Yes, I'm familiar with each of the forms you described. I have questions about more details - so many questions - but you should get properly settled in, and maybe eat lunch, before we really get down to it. Have you spoken with Mayor Stelras yet? Do you have lodging sorted out?"
"I went by his office first. He's having someone take my luggage to an inn. The Adventurer's Haven, I think? He said something about a 'low-value target' and having an empty suite already booked." Trinlen's eyes widened. "Waaait a minute. Is he putting me in the room you two were abducted from?"
Carlos shrugged. "Sounds like it."
"Nice! Think there'll be any evidence left of how it was done?"
"Haha! Probably not by this point, but you're welcome to look. Now go get unpacked, eat a meal, and start planning your lessons for us. I'm glad you're here, but we have some other things to do too."
Trinlen nodded and stood up. "Sure. I'll be back before you miss me."
Carlos waved as Trinlen sauntered out the door. He and Amber sat in companionable silence for a while as he felt the mana - or essence? - of Trinlen's soul moving off into the distance. "Well. That was interesting. It's good to have him, but I was expecting a bit more time to think and plan before he'd get here."
"Yeah." Amber stretched and then leaned back into the sofa's cushions, luxuriating in their soft firmness. "So, how much are we going to tell him? How useful will his knowledge even be for us, now that we have, what did you call it, the reference documentation? That bit about the states of mana is good to know, but is it really relevant and important, and how much more can there be that's not in the documentation?"
"Be careful talking about that out loud, remember?" Carlos relaxed and draped his arms across the sofa's back as he focused his mind on their mental bond through Purple, their friendly dungeon core. [On Earth, we made many languages similar to the language of incantations, and we had the reference documentation for all of them. We even published that documentation free for everyone to have. Teachers for those languages were still useful, and even critically important for many people. Having access to knowledge doesn't mean you automatically understand how to properly apply it. There may be related knowledge we have no idea even exists. There could be techniques and patterns for how to use the language that are simply outside the scope of the documentation. Perhaps most importantly, a teacher can use their experience to notice a student's mistakes and correct them before they become problems.]
[Hmm.] Amber bit her lip, thinking. [Like how I knew about making soul structures and synergies between them, but had no idea about the importance of being able to examine and fix them, I suppose.]
Carlos nodded. [Yeah. And that's a really simple example. I know some that are a lot more complex, though I'm not sure how many of them are even applicable for incantations. Inversion of control, dependency injection, factory patterns...] He shook his head. [Just the context knowledge needed to be able to fully understand those could take days or weeks to teach well enough for you to use them. I could maybe explain the basic ideas faster with some simplified analogies, but that would lose so many details that I doubt it would still be useful.]
Amber paused. [... Even my comprehension aid is baffled by the terms you just said. It translated the individual words that you said, but all I got for the phrases is a confusing jumble.] She chuckled. [Anyway, I concede the point. Trinlen will still be able to teach us important and useful things. We still need to decide what secrets to share with him.]
[A lot depends on how good he is at keeping secrets. We don't actually know him all that well yet. He's certainly fun, and he seems clever, but for assessing his integrity we're leaning pretty hard on just a janitor vouching for him.] Carlos frowned in thought. [In order for him to do his job, he needs to know that we can only "pull an entire incantation from thin air" if it's a simple one. He does not need to know the full details of help, however, and most certainly does not need to learn to use it himself. That secret is a very sensitive one, where even just letting too much knowledge of it spread would lose us a major advantage.]
[Definitely. No casting help where he can hear it, and don't say anything about it that's not directly relevant for his teaching, either. Not until he's earned our full trust.] Amber lapsed into silent consideration. [We should introduce him to Purple. We'll kind of have to at some point anyway, and the really valuable thing there is Purple himself, not just the knowledge of his existence.]
Carlos nodded. [True. I think that probably is the least sensitive of our house secrets, and being able to call him through a bond with Purple would be useful.] He chuckled. [And maybe his cleverness will end up producing some good ideas for Purple to use. See if he can find a more productive outlet than pranks for his creativity. And then... If he keeps that secret well enough for long enough, we can consider trusting him with more secrets.]
Amber sent back wordless agreement.
Carlos started sitting up, lifting himself out of the comfortable cushions. "Well, we should get some food ourselves, too. And maybe introduce Trinlen to everyone else along with Purple." He stood up and spotted a letter he'd set aside when Trinlen arrived. "Oh yeah, and what do you think we should do about Kindar?"
"Wait, what's this about Kindar?"
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hello! i was lucky enough to go to the matinee for starkid innit while i was in london for a college trip! it was so beyond cool and everybody i met was incredible. overall, heres ALL my thoughts!

• I was sitting in row L all the way at the top. my seat was INCREDIBLE! the pallidum was a perfect place for this event. also, the people around me were so much fun!
  
• the primark bit was so good but when jeff said he got it in america i whooped thinking atleast one other american was there but people boo’d and i just slowly sunk into my seat LMAO
  
• COREY. corey. CoReY. he SHINED in this event. i feel like i never get to really enjoy his full voice in the shows and idk about the night show but he was KILLING pays to be animal and show stopping number at the matinee it was insane. hes so beyond talented and im so glad he got time to shine.
  
• truthfully, i was never super into a very potter musical. i just dont really like the franchise so i never reaaaally got into it. however, Not Alone had me crying my eyes out. all of the songs done from it were so fun and i think its convinced me to watch it. (special shoutout to jamie cuz shes breathtaking and so incredible)
  
• merch sold at the matinee SO fast. i was lucky to snag a sweatshirt however its a size a little too small
• i so wish i participated in bracelet trades or cosplay! going to this was a last minute thing and if i had known i would be there with SLEEVES of bracelets and probably a TGWDLM costume.
  
• everyone at this concert was so nice and so cool. it was so fun to feel like i could enjoy this show however i wanted to without being judged. especially as an american, i was a little nervous. but everyone was just so fun. shoutout to all the matinee people <3
  

overall, this concert was something ill never forget. Im from pennsylvania, and though im in america, i don’t think id ever get the chance to see a starkid show. i never thought, over my 10 years of loving them, thatd i see any of them live. starkid has gotten me out of huge artistic slumps and just in general was always there if i needed something fun. i love starkid so much and the community around them is just beautiful. london starkid fans, you guys are amazing <3

Has anyone successfully used this overclock? I am trying to build it, but it never feels like it does enough damage or has big enough area. Does the damage boost effect the Thin Containment Field damage? Or is that separate?
My best use has been doing a burning nightmare build with goo bomber special to light a row of goo on fire, but then I am not really using the damage buff the overclock gives.
I'd love to hear if any of you dwarves have found a good way to use Overcharger for the EPC

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weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.

hello everyone. these last few days I've been going through a lot and i thought it might be a good idea to ask for help in here.
this year i'm sharing a house with a roommate who turned out to be an immature, spoiled, childish bitch. i've been always respectful to her and i assume i have tried to be as considerate as it's humanly possible.i'm very calm and when at home, i'm usually busy studying or watching movie with a headphone or doing other silent activities. i even don't like talking over the phone that much and at times that i'm obliged to use it, i lower my tone as much as i can. also, as i brought almost 90% of the furniture and the apartment was basically furnished when she arrived, and i agreed her to take the best room.i never even mentioned all the favors I did and I really regret what i did, because none of these roomie-pleasing acts paid off.if anything, she became more controlling and rude.she had talked to me in an offensive manner two times before this but i hadn't said anything in response and had suppressed my anger in order to avoid conflict( classic trauma response, right?).ten days ago i invited my sister over( and i hadnt invited anyone before this) and she traveled hundreds of miles to come and see me. i had done it with her permission and she said it's alright for my sister to come and stay. so she came and stayed a couple of days and we were mostly hanging out outside and we just came back at night to sleep in my own room.she was acting alright in the first 2 days, then she started to act in a passive-aggressive manner –she slammed the door as soon as she heard us preparing the table or quietly laughing, she avoided us each time we were in the living room and would sneakily jump out of her room to use the bathroom or toilet as soon as we moved into my room. she had done this before during the last semester's finals, too. but this time it had got way more obvious and way more aggressive. after my sister left, she quitted even looking at me or saying hi to me when she saw me.( she had done this before too, but i had convinced myself not to take it to the heart specially as she got friendly with me again after the finals were over! she's such an unstable player.) last day she wrote me a scroll on telegram and as hard as she tried to seem cultured and civilized, she just oozed out even more controlling shit.it was the juice of her message: ''don't use the living room for studying. only use it for going to the kitchen or to the toilet, because i feel uncomfortable doing cooking and shit when someone's in there reading.'' i answered that i'm well-aware that living room might be distracting at times, but i'm not bothered by the sound of her doing her stuff and she doesnt need to worry about it and she can also freely use it. but then she started to argue with me saying ''living room is not for studying'' and weeping over her victim complex ''noooo, i'm not comfortable,you MUST go to your room just like i've tolerated you reading now you must act to my desire''. this time finally i became furious and assertively talked to her that it's her problem that she doesn't want to see me AT ALL and for this irrational demand, i would not have any more compliance. i'm silent as a rabbit, not making a fucking noise and really dont occupy much area in a 80 m² living room!! if she wants to use it as well, she's welcomed, but she can't command me to stay prisoned inside my small gloomy room without no proper light. interesting part is that she even doesnt prefer to study in the living room and all she's mad about is she cant use it for toilet and kitchen without coming to see me staying in there. although my whole body was trembling with rage ( and simultaneously with fear of a conflict or a loud argument) i managed to be assertive and talk my words.then she left me unread, although i'm quite sure she's read it.
now although i've come out ratherstrongly, whenever i use the living room, every moment of being there feels like torture.the silence in the living room feels like a ticking bomb that might explode in any minute. i'm anxious af and i have endless ruminations about how she might just walk out of the door and snap at me.she still continues slamming the door and walking thumpering her feet on the ground.also, i know it's very unlikely, but my mind constantly jumps to the possibility of being attacked or she getting physical with me. i'm very sensitive to loud noises and arguments. i try to avoid them as much as i can. i get this semi-panic attack feeling whenever even two strangers argue with eachother. i know me keeping using the living room to my desire will serve her right and will bring me back some power over the household affairs, but i can barely even concentrate this way; while i rigidly sit there, my muscles tense as rock and i hear my hear ponding.
so, i appreciate your advice: do you think i'd better fight or flight? regarding that my finals are arriving in 10 days or so...
P.S: special thanks to you ma' for the perfect upbringing and all that dreadful childhood days you would shout at me – your voice's still ringing in my ears and although you encourage me to stand for my rights, i always fail because i've always been on the lower end of the power imbalance seasaw. i never dared disagreeing with you, now how you expect me to be magically a brave person who can disagree when she's not pleased?

I'm fairly new in this group. Have been reading through posts and recognise so much of my own experience. My mom is bpd and managing our relationship has been my biggest struggle since childhood. it hasn't been all bad, i was 'lucky' to be left with my grandparents in a differrent town so they raised me till i was 9 and again between 11 and 13. my mom 'brought me over' between 9 and 11 in an attempt to convince my dad to stop cheating. it ended in divorce. i lived with her from 13 to 20 them moved out of town for school and eventually started working abroad at 23 and haven't moved back. during my years with her, she used to blow up on my dad until stopped coming over than i was next in line.. complete chaos not knowing what might trigger her, she'd start screaming at me until she got tired than 'forgive me' and expect me to act as if nothing happened. big part of moving abroad was trying to put as much distance between us. she lost her job when i was 24 and i have been supporting her all this time - monthly cash few hundreds (while i've been in debt myself and still trying to dig out of it), all new furniture and appliances, extra whenever she needed it, gifts on special ocasions etc, and being in touch although she was never happy and still kept blowing up. ended up in therapy several times. constant stress all these years plus guilt for moving far etc (only child). in the meantime she cut ties with everyone else in her life, so of course i am 'her only reason to live'. and it's always 'you don't love me' etc and me trying to convince her that's not true. we text daily and talk 2-4 times as week but she would like daily-those conversations are negative and depressing and draining at the best).sometimes work gets very busy and i can't call as often because i literally work morning to midnight- usually that's when she gets'deathly sick' with random dangerous ilnesses she finds online. this was last week and i made the mistake to just text while i worked (it was past midnight where she is, not much to be done till next dayanyway), tell her to try to rest and we'll talk in the morning.she sounded perfectly healthy next day but blew up on me on how if it was dad i would have cared but i treat her like she's nobody, the money i send don't matter, it's love she needs etc, started yelling and i eventually ended the conversation. that was friday.i called on tuesday hoping to go back to normal(we usually make up after) but got 'i'm eating fries to save money i'd rather rot than accept money from you' 'you only ever loved your dad' 'you hated me since you were a child' etc. she was very calm through this, usually she screams and i excuse it on 'heat of the moment' but this was all calculated. she went on for a while, dismissed anything i tried to say, went on to 'you should pray i die soon so you don't have a burden anymore' 'tough luck for you to have a crazy mom' an goodbye have a good life'. so i said goodbye too. the insistance that i hated her since my childhood while i feel like i constantly give up peace, sanity, time, money and basically raised her for 23 years since she stopped working broke something. i decided i'm done. and have felt lighter than i did in ages, showed up better in my marriage, i feel like a new person.. i got a couple more texts of the 'i hope youcan live with yourself while i have noone to bury me kind'. not answering. i won't till she at least retractswhat she said (she will eventually cause by end of month she'll start worrying she wont get her money, she lives on a small pension otherwise). i want out. but she's 70, unwell, and i'm an ocean apart. i don't have it in me to completely desert her. elder care where she is is very rough. not sure what to do.. thoughts?

I dunno why I became so obsessed with it (I typically don't obsess over getting game achievements), but I did. At the beginning I was moving so fast I was almost sure I'd finish the tree even without opening all rooms/reading all books, but after Level 6 things got incredibly slow, especially since I haven't get luck to learn Vac until I finished about half a branches.
The last branch to fill was The Bosk, and doing it required little cheating with wiki to find out which skills are suitable for it and summoning Numa four or five times in a row to learn Kernewek Henavek. Incredibly frustrating.
https://preview.redd.it/6sncyi7uz60d1.png?width=2880&format=png&auto=webp&s=dd2294cee091b8f1c3993cd2f0d26618d6344bc7
Some less frustrating frustrations (may be spoilering):

• Gathering doesn't depend on skill, skill level or soul level, and there is no secrets. I actually expected som interesting stuff that could be gathered only with particular skill!
• Films and phonograph records are the same each time;
• Nameday Riddle is mentioned in a few books like it's something special, but it doesn't. actually I find it completely useless - there are easier ways to get enough moth, and there are no recipes requiring it
• So many workstations i haven't used even once though I complete the game up to the point when there is nothing left to do but write a History three times;
• Impossibility of getting rid of furniture (why can't I burn the goddamn chair or throw it away?);
• Can't label shelves in storages (like... I can have an organised book collection, but cannot label 'beverages with moon aspect' shelf? absurd);
• Unusual Nun's description says she can use Omens 'unlike other Assistants', but all Omens are Memories as well, so all Assistants can be boosted with them. Confusing!
• Sebastian's Swords cannot be put at any place besides their original place, regardless if its a shelf or a wall;
• Sort of bug - I'm not sure what exactly causes it, but sometimes when I read a new book and change cards to get the optimal combo to match aspect, the desk starts crafting instead. It's definitely something to do withe the order of filling slots, but I'm not sure what exactly;
• Sometimes (very rarely, caught it only 3 or 4 times in three gameplays) books disappear. Like... I consider an uncatalogued book, press 'collect' and it doesn't appear neither in top slots, nor on the bridge;
• No unique crafting for Stones or Gems
• Candles recipes aren't recorded
• If I don't buy a book from Oriflamme, they keep offering me this very same book and the only way to get another offer is to buy it (I wonder how they keep their business profitable with this approach)
• By the time I reach underground vaults I don't really need things stored there because I either can craft them or have another way to get enough aspects to read books requiring it
• The further you proceed with opening rooms, the less books you get
• If you throw a book away, nothing happens (I expected some curse, or malady, or unique memory)

Living in GermanyLiving in Germany as a student can be both exciting and challenging. The country offers a rich cultural experience along with top-notch education, but it's no secret that managing finances as a student can be tough. From accommodation to daily expenses, every euro counts. In this article, we'll explore some budget-friendly tips to help students make the most out of their time in Germany without breaking the bank.

1. Student DiscountsOne of the perks of being a student in Germany is access to a wide range of discounts. Whether it's public transportation, museums, or even grocery stores, always carry your student ID to avail of these discounts. Many establishments offer special rates for students, helping you save money on essentials and entertainment.

2. Shared Accommodation

Rent can eat up a significant portion of your budget. Consider opting for shared accommodation such as shared apartments or student dormitories. Not only does this reduce your rent expenses, but it also fosters a sense of community and allows you to split utility bills, further lowering your monthly costs.

3. Cooking at Home

Eating out frequently can drain your finances quickly. Embrace cooking at home as a way to save money. Plan your meals, buy groceries in bulk, and explore budget-friendly recipes. Not only is cooking at home economical, but it also gives you control over your diet and allows you to experiment with different cuisines.

4. Utilize Student Services

Take advantage of the various student services offered by universities and local authorities. This includes discounted or free access to fitness centers, counseling services, career guidance, and academic resources. These services are designed to support students and can help you save money while enhancing your overall experience.

5. Second-Hand Shopping

Furnishing your accommodation or updating your wardrobe doesn't have to be expensive. Explore second-hand stores, flea markets, and online platforms for pre-loved items. You'll be surprised at the quality and affordability of items you can find, from furniture to clothing and electronics.

6. Public Transportation

Germany has an efficient public transportation system, making it easy and affordable to get around. Invest in a monthly or semester transportation pass, which is often discounted for students. Avoiding car ownership not only saves you money on fuel and maintenance but also reduces your environmental footprint.

7. Part-Time Work

If your visa allows, consider taking up part-time work to supplement your income. Many students find jobs in cafes, retail stores, or as tutors. However, ensure that your work hours don't interfere with your studies, as academic success should remain your priority.

8. Budgeting Apps

Technology can be your ally in managing finances. Explore budgeting apps that help track your expenses, set financial goals, and identify areas where you can cut back. By staying organized and aware of your spending habits, you can make informed decisions to save money effectively.

9. Explore Free Activities

Germany offers a plethora of free activities and events, especially in major cities. From cultural festivals to outdoor concerts, keep an eye out for free or low-cost entertainment options. Join student clubs and organizations that organize affordable outings and social gatherings.

10. Health Insurance

Health insurance is mandatory for all students in Germany. Opt for public health insurance, which is generally more affordable than private options. Compare different insurance providers to find a plan that suits your needs and budget, ensuring you have access to healthcare without hefty costs.
In conclusion, navigating student life in Germany on a budget requires resourcefulness and smart planning. By leveraging student discounts, embracing shared accommodation and cooking at home, utilizing student services, exploring second-hand options, prioritizing public transportation, considering part-time work, using budgeting apps, enjoying free activities, and opting for affordable health insurance, you can make the most out of your experience without financial stress. With these budget-friendly tips, students can thrive academically, culturally, and financially during their time in Germany.
as a student can be both exciting and challenging. The country offers a rich cultural experience along with top-notch education, but it's no secret that managing finances as a student can be tough. From accommodation to daily expenses, every euro counts. In this article, we'll explore some budget-friendly tips to help students make the most out of their time in Germany without breaking the bank.

1. Student DiscountsOne of the perks of being a student in Germany is access to a wide range of discounts. Whether it's public transportation, museums, or even grocery stores, always carry your student ID to avail of these discounts. Many establishments offer special rates for students, helping you save money on essentials and entertainment.

2. Shared Accommodation

Rent can eat up a significant portion of your budget. Consider opting for shared accommodation such as shared apartments or student dormitories. Not only does this reduce your rent expenses, but it also fosters a sense of community and allows you to split utility bills, further lowering your monthly costs.

3. Cooking at Home

Eating out frequently can drain your finances quickly. Embrace cooking at home as a way to save money. Plan your meals, buy groceries in bulk, and explore budget-friendly recipes. Not only is cooking at home economical, but it also gives you control over your diet and allows you to experiment with different cuisines.

4. Utilize Student Services

Take advantage of the various student services offered by universities and local authorities. This includes discounted or free access to fitness centers, counseling services, career guidance, and academic resources. These services are designed to support students and can help you save money while enhancing your overall experience.

5. Second-Hand Shopping

Furnishing your accommodation or updating your wardrobe doesn't have to be expensive. Explore second-hand stores, flea markets, and online platforms for pre-loved items. You'll be surprised at the quality and affordability of items you can find, from furniture to clothing and electronics.

6. Public Transportation

Germany has an efficient public transportation system, making it easy and affordable to get around. Invest in a monthly or semester transportation pass, which is often discounted for students. Avoiding car ownership not only saves you money on fuel and maintenance but also reduces your environmental footprint.

7. Part-Time Work

If your visa allows, consider taking up part-time work to supplement your income. Many students find jobs in cafes, retail stores, or as tutors. However, ensure that your work hours don't interfere with your studies, as academic success should remain your priority.

8. Budgeting Apps

Technology can be your ally in managing finances. Explore budgeting apps that help track your expenses, set financial goals, and identify areas where you can cut back. By staying organized and aware of your spending habits, you can make informed decisions to save money effectively.

9. Explore Free Activities

Germany offers a plethora of free activities and events, especially in major cities. From cultural festivals to outdoor concerts, keep an eye out for free or low-cost entertainment options. Join student clubs and organizations that organize affordable outings and social gatherings.

10. Health Insurance

Health insurance is mandatory for all students in Germany. Opt for public health insurance, which is generally more affordable than private options. Compare different insurance providers to find a plan that suits your needs and budget, ensuring you have access to healthcare without hefty costs.
In conclusion, navigating student life in Germany on a budget requires resourcefulness and smart planning. By leveraging student discounts, embracing shared accommodation and cooking at home, utilizing student services, exploring second-hand options, prioritizing public transportation, considering part-time work, using budgeting apps, enjoying free activities, and opting for affordable health insurance, you can make the most out of your experience without financial stress. With these budget-friendly tips, students can thrive academically, culturally, and financially during their time in Germany.

Some of the builds here are incomprehensible and it's hard to decipher how the builder built it, what's cruciating to think about is "how" they imagined it, how did they start, what made them improve and for how long they have been building for. My builds look complicated enough due to the terraria texture otherwise it would be ones and zeros on the screen while someone who has a knack with 3d building no matter what texture you'd use it would look 3d because it follows understanding and certain experience that I can't seem to fathom or acquire it. Seeing my builds I felt happy satisfied until I saw someone else with raw understanding what to improve on, using tools and what blocks are correct to use if you'd want them 3d. I can mess around with shapes that terraria gives and make builds under visible distances, I like the little details like little mushrooms on a big mossy rock, lots of bushes berries trees but that isn't important its not something impressive if im given the helping hand with textures shapes allready made that I use like lego, building for 4 years that gotta be a joke I can't improve, I keep procrastinating my builds even if they should be enjoyable. I no longer feel happy for making a little fairy in the air or by remembering the movie "brave" scene about whisps id like to place some in borreal forest but that won't be neccessary because my builds still suck.
I have hit a wall where I don't improve and I have no energy or reliable memmory to remember lots of blocks, it's also frustrating finding items in my inventory as I spend most of 1 min looking for actuator or brush, my brain fails me. I've watched live speed terraria builders and they all seem to get along very well with the tools and the game as a whole for building meanwhile it takes me 3 months to build a build that people would estimate it to be 4 hours long.
I was excited to use rubble maker but again, it won't matter it will be a detail that only the artist of these rubble textures can be proud of and not the person which is gonna be me who decides to use them in a way to improve the look on my build, we'd all want to be able to order all the furniture, medieval barrels ale cegs now that seems like a lot of fun getting a bunker next to your apartment rhsts purely there to drink cold fermented drinks but thst ain't like it, someone had to make these barrels and decorate them beautifully, id say its even more difficult to paint a barrel than make it if you got all the ingredients, art is difficult on you even if you're trying to satisfy your artisitc personality, its allways gonna make you feel like shit.
I'd like to think that none of this will matter, that creation is all equally shared and all gave their effect on how our world currently looks like, I cant feel happy now, it feels like people all over internet have been trying to suppress my interests, now everyone is supposed to "create" something worth while to fuel contribution and take celebrations with you at home. People call me delusional unrealistic and pathetic for wanting to believe that little creatures fairy glowy happy creatures live deep in forests, or thst flowers are fairies or that if any creature glows its like a little pokemon or special luck to encounter one in the wild. Instead of accumulating all this joy into one inspirational build on terraria that will gradually interest me more for mythical creatures or just creatures overall im instead supposed to get along in the same constant speed everyone is heading. Like I was once shamed for not being studious because everyone else were furious that they've been poked all through years and now have anger towords me because im lesser competent. There won't be no peace, and it feels like I don't want peace either because im angry sad frustrated that I have the feeling of urgency as if anything I built on terraria was lesser worth than those who sweat their way to being better.

Hey, this is a throwaway acct. I (31f) have recently started therapy for depression and suicidal tendencies. In one of my sessions, I talked a little about a relationship I had when I was younger, and how I had a lot of guilt about it. I was around 14/15 years old at the time, and he was 26/27 and a secondary school teacher (not at my school). I was also a chorister at a cathedral, and he sang in the back row as a lay clerk.
Anyway, at the time I felt it was a mutual thing. I fancied him and I was excited when he fancied me back. He'd always make me feel so special, saying how none of the other girls were as cute or funny as me. He'd drive to my house and I'd sneak out and perform oral sex in his car. I'd even go to his house in my school uniform and we'd have oral sex. Please note that he had a girlfriend at the time, who he's now married to and they have 2 children of their own.
My therapist told me that this was assault, and that he's a pedophile. Is he right? Did he groom me by making me feel special and keep the relationship a secret? I still feel like I'm 100% responsible, and now I'm worried that he's not a nice person and I should have reported him. I'm really struggling to comprehend that it wasn't a relationship because it felt like one and I honestly thought that I was in love.
I'll add that I'm now very happily married to my wonderful husband (same age as me). The depression and suicidal tendencies are something I'm working on, but I'm wondering whether perhaps this relationship has contributed to my mental health.

Vote on a match featuring the detective teams allied against a masked vigilante having gone berserk!

(Shoutouts to u/ShimoDragon and Heart of the Rose for the match!)
Scenario: The Kamala Rose International, Vasitanagarh — 2:06PM
Weeks ago, in the very center of The Kamala Rose International lay the fantastical garden known as the Heart of the Rose, in the center of that garden stood a gazebo, and in the center of that gazebo was a table surrounded by four individuals in a heated discussion.
“That was sloppy work, Margherita!” Sulka slammed their fist against the table in an uncharacteristically loud fit of rage, “I told you to get rid of that man last week! Now because of your pointless delays he was able to leak that scandal to the news!”
“Hey hey, levati dai coglioni! I don’t appreciate the blame being thrown onto me here,” Margo threw up his arms in response, looking more annoyed than upset, “You never told me there was any urgency. Besides, it takes a bit of time to frame an accidental death. What, do you think you can just shoot a guy in the head and call it a suicide? You watch too many movies if you think that kind of thing can just happen overnight, mammalucco.”
“Do you even care that our operation here is in jeopardy now that that video is drawing prying eyes our way?!” Sulka almost spat at the italian man, “Your nonchalance is insulting!”
“Easy, Sulka,” Jim Peckle interjected, “Margo did his best. No way for him to know that things would turn this way.”
“You’re both right, actually,” Margo sneered, “I did my best, as I do with every job, but I honestly couldn’t care less if this little crime ring collapses. You lot are nothing more than a side hustle to me, my allegiances lie back in Italy. In other words, stop pestering me and vai a cagare.”
With a swish of his apron Margo left, leaving Sulka to smolder in a more recognizable quiet anger.
“That’s the last time we give him a time sensitive job, if you ask me,” Pluto spoke up for the first time since arriving (late), “The unwanted attention is a problem, don’t get me wrong, but I’m more concerned with how we even got to this in the first place, hey? That guy in the video was talking about missing people, Kiisseli. Just what the hell have you been up to?”
“Need I remind you, Hendrix,” Sulka’s cold gaze turned to meet Pluto’s, “that part of our arrangement involves the right to privacy. I do not intend to pry about what you use our resources for so I expect that you will do me the same decency.”
“Excuse me…?” Pluto straightened up from his relaxed position, “You don’t get to just shrug this off after bringing the feds to our damn doorste-”
“To be curt,” Sulka cut him off, “It’s none of your damn business, Pluto. So drop it.”
Behind Sulka’s back, Jim quietly scoped his nearest emergency exit.
Pluto’s vein bulged visibly at Sulka’s words, “You’ve got people paying attention to the airport cuz you’ve been pulling some shady bullshit and you just managed to get your ass handed to you by a cat and some whackjob in a mask, hey. Obviously this is my fucking business!”
“I may have been beaten by a “whackjob” as you put it,” Sulka slowly rose from their chair, “but I could certainly beat you if you’re going to keep acting like a thorn in my side.”
“You could beat who?” Pluto’s voice raised an octave in sheer frustration and confusion, “Trust me, you don’t want this smoke, Kiisseli.”
“What’s this about smoke?” Dark Disquiet shimmered into view and lit a fire in its palm behind Sulka as they spoke, “Because from where I stand you’re the only one who should fear getting burned, Hendrix.”
“This isn’t the time or place for a fight,” Jim stepped in between the two, holding up his hands. Behind his dark sunglasses, his eyes flicked cautiously over to Sulka. “Everything just goes up in flames. Nobody wins… Best cool things down and make peace.”
An uneasy silence hung over the gazebo until Pluto clicked his tongue in frustration, “Yeah. Fine. Better an ally than an enemy, I suppose. But let it be known that next time I have to deal with problems caused by your actions I’ll be expecting a damn good explanation, hey? Now I’m getting out of here before your self important face pisses me off any more than it already has.”
Once Pluto had left earshot, Sulka let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of their nose, “I hate to admit it but I too am in a state where I still need to rely on Hendrix’s assistance. Oh how I despise co-leadership…”
“I like having him around,” Jim replied, shrugging minutely, “He brings a lot to the Heart. He’s easygoing, and a lot more dedicated than he seems on the surface. It would be a shame to drive him away.”
“You’ve already deescalated the situation, Jim Peckle. Any further arbitration would be pointless, unless you mean to crawl your way back onto my good side. In which case you have a long way to go,” Sulka made a dispassionate gesture towards the exit, “You may leave as well, but don’t assume that this means you’re off the hook. You’ve not yet been forgiven for leaving me in the dirt and running off with that costumed clown after our fight.”
Jim hesitated for a moment before deciding to swallow his pride and take his own advice. Instead, he simply gave a light nod in response and scurried out of the gazebo.
For a time Sulka sat in silence, partially to gather their thoughts and partially to make sure their team members had cleared out. “Marko, Olli, come here now.”
Barely missing a beat, the Runoilija brothers ran in to greet Sulka, “Right here boss!” Marko, the bigger of the two, responded, “Sorry we weren’t here for the meeting–that kid you hired a while back was break dancing in the halls outside the garden and we were entranced by the little guy!”
“Enough!” Sulka was all too familiar with how the brothers could prattle on if left unchecked, “I didn’t call you over to have you discuss your simplistic entertainment. I have a job for the two of you.”
“Lay it on us boss, we’ll get it done in no time,” Olli rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“To be more accurate it’s closer to a reassignment than a job,” Sulka tucked their hands behind their back, beginning to pace across the raised dais. “Thanks to this mess we’re in, I’ll be forced to decrease, if not totally halt, my… cultivation, we’ll call it, her at the Rose. In order to make up for the drop-off in offerings we will need to expand operations outside of the airport. I’ve already made the arrangements. Starting tomorrow, you two will be stationed at Club Naraka over in Port Konwar. You will remain vigilant for any and all stand users that enter the building. I don’t care how you do it but make sure you check every guest. Once you find a stand user you are to restrain them and call for me. This is by far the most promising location I’ve managed to get a hold of, so I am expecting big things. Are there any questions?”
“Uh, it’s a club, yeah?” Marko cocked his head, “That means there’ll be booze, right?”
“...Yes Marko,” Sulka sighed, “There will be drinks of all kinds.”
“Alright! We won’t let you down boss! You can count on us!” Olli beamed—and promptly tripped on Marko’s heels in his haste as the two of them rushed for the door.
Sulka sighed again, if that pair of fools weren’t so loyal they would’ve discarded them long ago.
Scenario: ???, ??? — 1:20 AM
THUMP
THUMP
THUMP
Reese’s eyes slowly opened, his vision hazy. His head stung—that was the first thing he noticed, the dull throbbing pain in his temple. He couldn’t think straight. Where was he? Why was he here? What was-
God, his head.
“Ghhh...” He massaged his temples, blearily trying to force some sense into his brain. He was... Where was he...
Memories came back to him slowly, filtered through heavy bass and the scraping of a rusty fan overhead. He was looking for leads on something... His father was looking into Nightblooms... There were rumors of knowledgeable Stand users here... His teammates had told him not to go, but he-
The door creaked open, slamming against a dingy, degraded concrete wall. Reese lifted his head, slowly. His head felt like a ten ton weight on his shoulders. He could hardly see. What the fuck happened?
Through the now open door a stream of light poured in highlighting the silhouettes of two men. The bigger man on the right spoke first, “So this kid is the fresh meat, huh? And you’re sure he’s one of us this time?”
“Oh definitely,” The skinny man on the left replied, “This guy’s a stand user, no doubt about it.”
Reese could hear what the men were saying but his mind was covered in a fog and it was difficult to comprehend the words. Fresh meat? Stand user? Did these two bring him here? What did they want?
The skinny man kneeled down to bring himself face to face with Reese. Even in the darkness of the room he was close enough that Reese could make out his distinctly crooked nose , “I’m gonna make this real simple for you, pal. You see our boss is a very important person. They are the type with big plans that some people might not agree with. Because of that, they like to make powerful friends whenever possible. Friends like you, for example. For that very reason the boss is on their way here right now to meet you! I’m sure the two of you will get along great but I thought I should give you a bit of a warning. The boss doesn’t like it when their offer of friendship gets turned down, you see. There’s only one thing they hate more than that. Unnecessary risk. If they can’t have you as a friend… Well, I’m sure you’ll make the right choice once you meet them.”
“Uhhh, Olli?” The bigger one tapped the skinny man on the shoulder, “I don’t think this kid is hearing you. Look at his eyes, it’s like he’s still asleep.”
“Wha-?” Olli aggressively grabbed Reese’s head and forcefully opened his eyelids all the way to stare into the boy’s pupils, “Goddamnit, the drugs still haven’t worn off! Urgh, just put him back to sleep Marko. I’ll give him the speech again once he wakes up.”
Reese wanted to run or fight or something but he could barely move as the skinny man- Olli let go of his head. Drugs? Had these two drugged him? His mind was swimming with Olli’s monologue creating a whirlpool of words and phrases that he recognized but could not focus on. With every ounce of his available strength he lifted his body onto his elbows and looked up to his captors.
“W-wait a se-” He couldn’t even form a full sentence before the bigger man- Marko reeled back and threw out a punch.
There was a violent shake.
A loud thud.
And then black.
Scenario: Club Naraka, Port Konwar — 1:22 AM
Club Naraka was, if nothing else, accurately named.
When you first stepped into the subterranean hell pit of human desire, you were greeted with the thick smell of booze and cigarettes and other far less legal things. It had a way of overwhelming every sense, actually. Harsh lights strobed against the otherwise dim chambers of each floor, and the bass thumped hard enough to feel in your ribs. When you eventually found yourself in a place where it didn’t smell so harshly of booze, it was because it smelled like vomit instead, or some other thing you didn’t really want to figure out the source of.
Emile Gulati, 27 years old, stared with half lidded eyes at the air freshener she’d hung behind the bar, wishing with all of her heart that it actually worked. It was her last little rebellion against this place. She tried wearing earbuds, but she couldn’t hear her own music over the stuff they played in the club. She tried normal earplugs, but those hardly worked, and just made it harder to bartend. She considered nose plugs, but that’d just make her look weird - customers gave her enough shit already.
“Evening, bartender~.” A sleazy looking man had somehow wandered over to the bar without her noticing, splaying himself over the counter. Emile tried her best to hide her immediate disdain. “You, uh, wow, huh, eheh.” He pointed at her. “Nnnn~ice outfit. Eheh.”
She scowled.
“You gonna order something or what?” Emile made sure to step back a few feet. Best not to stand too close to guys like this - she’d learned that the hard way just a week ago. “I don’t work here as a fucking model. Get a drink.”
“Bitch.” The man sneered. “You people should be more agreeable. Tsch.” He wandered off, having seemingly forgotten what he came for in the first place. Emile sighed in relief. She idly looked back at the little bottle under the counter, and winced. She’d made a routine of reminding herself it was there and feeling like shit about it.
Being a bartender here was bad enough, but every now and then she’d get a lovely text from a higher up on the burner phone they’d given her to slip a few drops of that into their drink. Within moments a security guard would drag them away, leaving Emile with no explanation. Not that she was expecting one, granted. But she would’ve liked to know what exactly she was doing here. For closure, or something. Maybe.
Couldn’t pay rent in Mist City without a job, she reminded herself for the fourth time that night. The latest one really got to her - some bright eyed youngster filled with determination who was trying so hard not to look like he was there on some sort of mission. She had hope that whatever job it was would succeed, but that hope seemed to evaporate like a fine mist when she watched him disappear behind the elevator doors.
She rubbed her temples.
“...”
And exhaled. This place got in the way of her reason, the music keeping her from thinking. Was next month’s rent worth the people she’d screwed over? Hell if she knew.
“I’m taking my fifteen,” said Emile, to no one in particular. She marched away from the bar, stalking towards the elevator. When the doors closed behind her, she found herself blessed by something close to peace and quiet. It reassured her.
Equally reassuring was the golden coin beneath her feet, glinting in harsh LED light.
“...Lucky coin, huh?” She picked it up, admiring it for a moment before pressing down on the lowest button on the elevator keypad. She didn’t know what she was actually going to do - but it’d probably be better than doing nothing.
When the doors opened, Emile found the floor was completely barren. No one wandered through the dusty concrete halls; the only thing that gave her company was the thick, noxious smell that clung to the air. Preferring not to investigate its source, Emile began walking through the halls…until her eye caught on an open door. Unsure where else to go, she peeked inside.
Curled on the cold floor was a body. Emile’s stomach dropped–until she saw movement in the person’s chest. Still alive. That she could work with. Rushing over, Emile knelt next to the unconscious person, as she had with countless blackout drunks. She made sure he was on his side, and then gently stirred him until he woke. All the while, dread tangled her organs in knots. Who would do such a thing? Why? Still, the answers didn’t matter. What mattered is that something was very wrong with this place, and they needed to leave as fast as possible.
Yet, when the young man opened his eyes, he didn’t look at her with shock or fear, but anger. A righteous fury that had him just about jumping to his feet.
“Woah! Woah, settle down, you were unconscious, your body needs time-” Emile began, before the man shook his head. That alone seemed to dizzy him, as he braced himself against the wall.
“I don’t have time. I need to- I can’t have been the only one. I need to-”
Emile stepped closer, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but he immediately bristled at the touch, as if on reflex.
“You’re hurt- look, man… something’s up with this place. We need to get out of here.”
But he just shrugged her off, moving towards the nearest unlocked door. Without hesitation, he flung it open, frantically looking for other survivors. Yet, what he and Emile found…were rows of bathtubs. That horrid, sharpened smell was even stronger now, nearly overwhelming. It was all Reese could do to not keel over. Instead, Emile moved to support him, and the two crept closer, peering over the edge.
Inside the tub, something boiled, bubbled, churned.
The thing inside could barely be called human. The acid gnawed at the corpse like a desperate, starving animal, stripping the charred flesh off of its bones. Unable to support itself, it collapsed further, head sinking under the liquid. Soon, its blank, lifeless expression was stripped down to its gleaming bone. Gone. All gone.
Reese felt like he was standing in a tunnel. Lightless. Empty. Infinite. The feeling of Emile letting go, the sound of sharp retching, something splattering against the tile, all of it was muffled.
What cruel animal is man.
It was the twin jolts of fear and rage that hit him like an IED. Pounding adrenaline restarted his heart, clicking the world into focus. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emile heaving, shuddering, pulling at her hair. All the unconscious drunkards, for all the rowdy bar fights, none of it could have prepared her for these horrors. That adrenaline pumped through her in turn, she could feel that fear grow sharp and jagged-
She could feel something take that fear, guiding it towards a sound. Footsteps. Reese didn’t seem to hear them, only her. She tried to speak- nothing. No sound could escape her lips. The fear that gripped her chest was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She couldn’t make a whisper but with the full force of her adrenaline she could still move.
The next few moments were a blur. A bottle on a shelf, shouting from the previous room, a desperate lunge, and the distinct sound of rending flesh. Suddenly everything was vivid and clear again. She felt the guards blood trickle through her fingers as Emile looked down and witnessed what she had done. The bottle had become a knife, and she had stabbed someone.
The guard fell to the ground as Emile stared at her shaking, blood stained hands, “I- that wasn’t- I didn’t mean-” She was stammering all while Reese watched on in silent shock.
“He’s not dead Emile,” a feminine voice echoed through her skull, “You have to finish it. You have to make sure.”
Her eyes darted from one end of the room to the other, trying desperately to find the source, but the longer she delayed the louder it got.
“Kill him. Kill Him. KILL HIM. KILL HIM.”
What happens when an animal is backed into a corner?
It attacks.
Suddenly, something in Emile snapped- no, it shattered like a broken bottle. A low scream escaped her throat betwixt clenched jaws as she savaged upon the barely breathing man.The knife became her teeth, raised into the air and plunged into red flesh. A wet schlllrk rang as she pulled it back out, only to bury it down again and again and again.
Reese moved quickly, instinctually- tackling her to the ground. A desperate move- to break this haze that she was in, end whatever vile urge had overcome her.
His eyes widened as they tumbled onto the floor, spotting several pairs of feet. Guards. He had tackled them into the direct view of more guards.
”Shit.”
A snapping noise split the air. An ethereal crocodile came from the ether, ready to defend its user.
A cornered animal attacked.
Meanwhile in the upper floors of the club the Runoilija brothers sat at a bar. Olli casually nursed an elaborate cocktail as he criticized his larger brother, “I think you hit that guy a little too hard, he should be awake again by now but there’s no news from the guards… You better not have killed him by accident like that last guy, Sulka’s already pissed enough at us as is.”
“That was not my fault!” Marko slammed his beer mug on the counter, “That last one wouldn’t stay down, so I just kept hitting him until he did. How was I supposed to know that he’d die so easily!”
“You literally just gave a textbook description of negligence, you moron. Of course it was your fault!” Olli smacked Marko on the side of his head to emphasize his point.
“Why’d you always gotta hit me…” Marko grumbled as he rubbed his head, “If you’re so sure that I’m the moron then let's bet on whether the fresh meat has gone cold or not. Whoever loses pays for the other’s drinks for the rest of the night.”
“Alright deal,” Olli snickered as they shook hands, “I’ll go take a look.”
Olli’s hand restlessly gripped the switchblade in his pocket as he descended through the floors of the nightclub. He fully intended to finish off the drugged up kid in the basement, assuming he refused to work for the boss like most did. He would pin the blame on his dumbass brother and have him pay for his drinks for the whole night. A win-win scenario.
Suddenly, a vibration from his phone. An update from the guards:
The prisoner got out. There are two of them now.
Marko received the same message back at the bar above. In a fit of rage he chucked his mug of beer at the wall with his full strength, just barely missing the skull of the bartender who was serving him. Before he had a chance to cause any more senseless damage another message addressed to himself and all the other guards came through, this time from his brother.
Find them both, NOW! Kill them if you have to, just make sure they don’t leave! If they’re gone when Sulka gets here we’ll all be fucked!
Marko stood up from the bar and began to push through the flirting couples and stumbling drunkards of the nightclub as his Ultraviolet materialized. The fresh meat had a helper and the two were trying to scurry away like rats? That was fine by him. Marko specialized in hunting down rats.

The music seemed to distort more intensely the longer Reese listened. Maybe it was the dull ache of the base, punctuated by a hundred frenzied footfalls, a rhythm that toppled over itself. Maybe it was the rage that sent his own heart racing. He could feel it pound against ｢Magenta Mountain｣ as he held the hourglass close to his chest. Still, there was no time to rest.
Finally, the two of them found the source of the noise. A dark, dingy dancefloor. It stunk of sweat and mildew, and the dancing bodies seemed to twist in the low light. Even as the two entered, splattered in blood, no one took notice. They were too caught up in dance, alcohol, god knows what else. In this moment of respite, Reese turned to Emile. Her gaze was as vacant as his own, she seemed to look right past him.
“Hey, focus.” Impatience had made his voice sharp. There wasn’t time for niceties, not for her. Emile’s eyes readjusted, finding him. In the dark, he could not see that was shone in her expression wasn’t malice, but fear.
“What the hell was that!?” he pressed. She shrunk away in turn.
“...I had to get out.”
“I know that,” Reese frowned, “We’re in the same boat. But that’s not an excuse- I could have helped! You didn’t have to-”
“I have to get out,” Emile continued. Her gaze went past him yet again. Her body shuddered. “Please, please just let me out. I’ll do anything, anything you want, I can’t stand this hell- just let me out!”
“I…” Reese swallowed, hugging his Stand tight. “What?”
His mind reeled, trying to process his next steps. This woman was unstable, that was clear. Unstable, violent, dangerous—not just to others, but herself. If Reese allowed her to simply leave, without understanding what was happening, who knew how many would suffer? Yet, the crowd shifted in strange ways, the beat becoming frantic, the music growing warped and mutilated. Should he stop the woman? Should he protect her from these maddening halls? What should he do? What should he do?
The moment Reese looked up, trying to make a call–Emile was gone. She had vanished deep into the crowd, following that horrid, golden voice. The music reminded Reese of the howl of coyotes in the night. The raucous celebrations of beasts who found their meal.
Against his beating heart, he felt ｢Magenta Mountain｣. Inside those grains lay the vast expanse of evolution, and its uniting link: the will to survive at any cost. His beasts had all failed, each one had faced death, and lost. At this moment, Reese understood them. He knew what it was to be a cornered animal. He would deal with the moral quandaries of man once he escaped. But first, he had to escape. The grains of sand were slipping through the hourglass. He knew he would not die like all those beasts that came before him. He would escape. He would survive. He had to.
Nothing else mattered.
Lost in the crowd, he and Emile reached that same conclusion.
Nothing else mattered.
Open the Game.
Location: Club Naraka, with the players currently on the second basement floor. Throughout the stage, the brown sections of the map are doors, furniture, lockers, crates, and whatever makes sense for the location. The players may interpret the map to read furniture as what would make sense for the location and may find any items that would be reasonable to find in that area of a club; if these ever would conflict in strategies, treat both readings as, somehow, correct.
Green circles are guards, each of which have 333 physicals, Guard: 3, and Basic Weapon Use: 3. These are overall competent operatives who aren’t going to be utterly trivial to get past, and each is armed with a handgun loaded with 9mm bullets and a baton.
The 2nd basement floor has MARKOV on one side in the bar, and Reese on the other in the boiler room. A few guards are already on the map; neither has immediate line of sight on either player.
North of MARKOV is a storage closet, which opens into a bathroom. North of this is the backrooms of the club, with the currently full dance floor in the middle. North of the boiler rooms is the security guard room, and at the far northeast of the map is the office of the club’s owner, filled with various trophies.
Of note for Reese, there are a few dead rats (purple triangles) in the boiler room, and a piece of coral (purple circle) in the office. This chunk of coral is 8 kg, and when reanimated by ｢Magenta Mountain｣ forms as a sort of hemisphere 2m across and 1.5m high.
The 1st basement floor is mostly for club business, with speakers and various technical material spread around. Of note, the many, many guards on the south of the first level will, if the players choose not to fight through the closest stairways, slowly fill into the lowest level, chasing the players. In essence, there will be significantly less guards around the stairs to the ground floor if the players take the longer path.
Finally, the Ground Floor is an open warehouse space with no traditional obstacles- as everything in this room is currently floating airborne, with a gloating Sulka armed with a fire extinguisher acting as the final obstacle. Between Sulka’s mobility, their guards acting as easier targets, and the needs of the match, they may not be RETIRED, but attacks launched at them will temporarily distract them and force them to block or avoid them. Otherwise, Sulka will alternate between launching single massive crates and flurries of small objects at the players as they fight their way through the ground floor, up to the doors at the north.
Goal: Fight your way out of Club Naraka! In particular, leave the club in better shape than your opponent.
While combat is allowed and expected, for the most part guards won’t leave too far from their base location; they can be snuck past. The winner of the match is who gets out of the club in the overall best condition.
Combat between players with the intent or foreseeable result of RETIREMENT is not recommended, though other types of interference are.
Additional Information: MARKOV’s current user is Emile Gulati, who has 233 physicals and 3 Bartending; Bartending gives Emile a thorough understanding of the layout of the club as well as preternatural skill in being able to throw around glass bottles or other similarly hefty items.
As for other NPCs besides the guards, the clubgoers have 222 physicals, Ignoring Any Chaos Around Them 5, and Mostly Irrelevant To The Match 4. Essentially they can act as a sort of cover in the dance floor, but besides hiding among them, don’t worry about anyone besides guards too much.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Gallery of Wayward Reverie	Markov	“Come on, what are you doing anyway? Calm down—got up on the wrong side of the bed or something?” Use a variety of tools, items, and tactics during your escape!
I.M.P.A.C.T.	Reese McGuffin	“What I have to do is look for the bone using my strings…” Use a variety of tools, items, and tactics during your escape!

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I just had my gallbladder removed yesterday and wanted to share my overall experience with gallstones, as I've found it useful and comforting to read accounts from others.
Warning signs
I first experienced symptoms last fall. After eating a heavy meal, I had abdominal pain lasting four or five hours that I assumed was the result of something off in the ingredients. Then, about a month later, the same thing happened again with a different meal. About a month later, the same thing happened yet again. I don't get sick to my stomach very often, so I made an appointment with my PCP in January and explained my symptoms. My PCP quickly suggested that the pain might be the result of gallstones, and he explained that gallstones are common for people in their 30s.
Symptoms
My symptoms were pretty consistent. Every gallbladder attack happened in the evening, typically after midnight, and most attacks lasted between 4-6 hours, although they were occasionally milder and shorter. The pain level would start at around a 3 and then gradually work its way up to around a 7 before fading back down again. Pain was focused on my upper right abdomen, although it sometimes radiated throughout my abdomen or to my back. Pain medication didn't really help. At the worst moments of pain, I would often experience vomiting. At first, gallbladder attacks occurred only after heavy meals, but in the last few months, attacks seemed to be random, occurring after even light meals. While the attacks generally happened every 3-4 weeks, I would sometimes experience two or three attacks in the same week. Once, I had three nights of gallbladder attacks in a row. The worst attack, which lasted around 8 hours, occurred a few weeks ago.
Tests
My PCP ordered an ultrasound in February, which came back negative for gallstones. My PCP put me on omeprazole in the event that the abdominal pain was the result of an ulcer. In the meantime, my PCP ordered a CT scan for March. The CT scan came back positive for gallstones, and the physician who examined my ultrasound revised their diagnosis, having mistaken a gallstone shadow for a pocket of gas. My PCP explained that I had what appeared to be 1.5cm gallstone lodged in the bile duct, and he recommended surgery to remove the gallbladder. I quickly agreed. The surgery was scheduled for May.
Diet
After my first appointment to address the abdominal pain back in January, I made fairly sudden changes to my overall diet, because my PCP ordered blood work, which showed that I have high cholesterol. I really wasn't the healthiest eater prior to my gallstone diagnosis, which can't have helped. After getting diagnosed with high cholesterol in January, I quickly shifted to a high-fiber, low-saturated fat diet. I cut out alcohol and fatty foods almost entirely. To be honest, I didn't really notice a change to my gallbladder symptoms after changing my diet, although eating healthier meals probably didn't hurt. I did develop some anxiety around eating as a result of the gallstones, and in the last four months, I've lost around ten pounds. I tried to eat three or four small meals throughout the day rather than a couple larger meals. In the last few months, it wasn't uncommon for me to be eating less than 1200 calories per day, which probably wasn't healthy.
Prepping for Surgery
I had pre-op phone appointments with my surgeon's scheduler, a nurse, and my surgeon. They explained how the procedure would go and what the risks were, and they emphasized that I could choose to pursue or not pursue the surgery. They also sent me some materials in the mail, including instructions for the days leading up to the surgery and some special soap, which I used in the shower in the three days before my surgery. The day before the surgery, my surgeon's office sent me a message through my care provider's online portal with the check-in time.
The Surgery
The morning of the surgery, I showered as normal and wore loose-fitting, comfortable clothes. My wife brought me to the hospital, and we checked in at the surgery center. We weren't waiting long, maybe fifteen minutes, before I was called back to prep for surgery. A nurse showed me around, asked me some questions, took my blood pressure, and had me change into my hospital gown and hospital socks. A few other nurses came by to stick an IV in my hand and shave my stomach. After a while, my wife was allowed to come back and sit with me and the nurses. My surgeon came by briefly to say hello and talk through the procedure and ask if I had questions. We waited for maybe an hour before they were ready for surgery. A few nurses wheeled me to the operating room, where I got onto the operating table. Honestly, that's the last thing I can remember. I woke up a few hours later with my wife sitting next to me.
Post-Surgery
I had some abdominal pain after waking up from surgery, but the overwhelming feeling was fatigue. I can't remember ever feeling as tired as I did in the twenty minutes or so after waking up from the surgery. It was very uncomfortable and disorienting, but it passed. As many have reported on this subreddit, the abdominal pain after the surgery wasn't as bad as a gallbladder attack. Walking around after the surgery wasn't so difficult as I thought it would be. I live on the third floor of an apartment building without an elevator, and walking up the stairs wasn't terribly difficult. I'd read here and the nurses warned me that I would have shoulder pain after the surgery as a result of gas from the surgery pressing on my diaphragm. At first, I thought I might have lucked out because I didn't experience shoulder pain at all yesterday. But the pain hit last night and was much worse than the abdominal pain, even with semi-frequent walking to relieve the gas. I've taken pain medication as suggested by the physicians, alternating between oxycodone + Tylenol and Advil.
Today
Because of the shoulder pain, last night was rough, and I didn't get much sleep, but between taking pain medication and walking around, the shoulder pain has subsided, and I managed to get around four hours of sleep this morning sleeping on my back. My wife has been giving me ice packs periodically for my incisions, and I've been eating low-fat, high-fiber foods. Overall, I have much more mobility today, and getting up and sitting down is much less painful than it was yesterday. I still haven't had a bowel movement since the surgery, although the nurses warned me that this might happen because of the ocycodone and anesthesia. I took stool softeners yesterday and today, and I'm trying to drink lots of water. The nurses warned me that constipation could be painful after surgery, so I'm doing what I can to encourage a BM. Fingers crossed that my recovery keeps moving in the right direction! I'll add an update to this post after a week or so, but I hope the above helps other folks experiencing gallstones.

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Can I just say can we Australians get fucking AUSTRALIAN servers. Like holy shit what makes you think as DEVS "Hey lets just lump in Aussies with Chinese with 160+ ping constantly and also the fact we ALL know it's hacker central, I'm sure they'll have fun" Like fuck me dead man. I am sick and tired of getting interested in a game only for it to only have Asian server available to us SPECIALLY considering how fucking notorious it is for cheating. I don't mean to be racist but I am sick and tired of playing with Asian named folk. 4-5 raids in a row I died straight off spawn to a "knife" and Chinese character user name. Yea people can say "Just push through, you can do it" yea nah bud, I just wasted 300-400K buying simple shitty kits only to die constantly off spawn. Now I have around 70K, I would do scav runs but it doesn't help every scav and their mum is also killing every fucking thing to so trying to play scav is basically playing PMC with a even shitter kit. This is meant to be a "more simpler" Tarkov and fuck it only feels worse specially as an Australian. I'd rather just play Tarkov at this point and have at least 20ms and can at least "compete" against the cheaters and hell other players as again I have fucking 20ms compared to 160+. Take this for what its worth but for me personally I'm done with being baited into playing these "cool" games only to find out I get shafted for living in Australia. WE as Australians do not want to be playing with 160+ ping and specially don't want to be versing against cheaters 24 fucking 7.

Years ago I had a dream that started with an advertisement for paints. By the style and everything and the fact that there was some weird chemical that was supposed to make it better than other paints, I assumed this was taking place in the 80s. Then I was in the consciousness of a girl and I was either found by, adopted by, or the daughter of a woman. I was in this HUGE rectangular room and I wasn't really allowed to leave. There were watercolor paints and brushes inside this desk on the other side of the room. The woman gave me the paints that were advertised in the beginning and because I found them special, I kept waiting to use them. The woman would get upset that I was painting with the old paints and not the new ones. Something happens, she dies and I leave the house with nothing. End of Dream 1.
Now, today I took a small nap and ended up having a dream connected to the other one. I was in the house I currently live in, my family and some of my sisters friends were watching TV and playing videogames. There's a whole thing about my eye being messed up and that's what the beginning is about, it does continue throughout it but I don't think it's super relevant. Then me, my sister, my cousin, my mom, and two guys that I don't think I've met before go to this big building. We're really just looking around, the building is abandoned so everything is disheveled, a bit dirty, and disorganized. We visit about two rooms, I start organizing water color paints that were the closet and looking at what looks like coloring book pages. A lot of them were like cartoony but witchy stuff. This doll on a shelf in said closet starts moving it's head. It kinda responds to us when we say something by moving it's head. I get creeped out and I bounce outta there.
So the group splits up, the two randos come with me and the others do their own thing. We go into another room and wouldn't you know it? It's the big rectangular room from before. It's way dirtier, there's more furniture and a sheet covering some furniture in the middle. That desk from before is still there by the door. We walk to the other corner of the room where "my" bed would have been. There's a racecar bed and dream me was honestly a bit sad that "my" bed wasn't there anymore. There were two other beds in the room but they also weren't "mine". So me and one of the randos start organizing the desk after looking around and the other one sits by the door. The watercolor paints were usually in a tray thing and there would be indents for the block to sit in. But after moving some of those, there's a crate with big plastic paint bottles. We move it to a different desk with less clutter. I pick one up and I'm looking at the label. The bottles actually look like one of the paint bottles I have in real life, which got dream me excited. I can't actually read anything but the word "DREAM" in big, swirly, rainbow text but apparently it was still watercolor paint because dream me was disappointed it wasn't acrylic. It was also watery and I didn't like that either.
I look up and instead of a sheet covering furniture like before, there's rows of tables with kids sitting there. Because this is a dream, we are unphased and me and the rando start organizing some paint brushes. Eventually we turn around and start talking to the kids. (Note: Sometimes dialogue in my dreams is choppy and unfinished but I understand what they're saying. So this isn't completely accurate, but I know I need to put it in a way that makes sense to others.) I say "Hi kiddos, who are you guys? Why are you here?". One of them pipes up and says "I was a Vietnam soldier." I look at him and I'm confused. He continues "Whenever I use the paint, I dream about being a soldier riding a horse." Then a little girl says "Yea, I swear I used to be a ballerina before I came here and used the paint." Me and rando who was helping me organize look at each other, then the crate of paints. We're both like "They were made in the 80s, that's why these things are happening."
Then we have to leave. We say bye to the kids and meet up with the others. Everyone else is walking to the car but me and one of the randos stop at the entrance to talk. He's outside but I'm still in the building so we're literally talking inside of the entrance. We just talked about how weird everything is and after more eye stuff, it ends.
I know that's really long, if you read through it then thank you. Thought it was kinda crazy to have a dream from so long ago continue like that.