Bit of a longer post, sorry bout that, but I felt it was time, perhaps once again, to point out the flaws and limitations in the CDC’s stats on sexual violence, specifically as they relate to the National Intimate Partner Sexual Violence Survey (NISVS), which is the source of all the fun stats on sexual violence that get thrown around by the 451 percenters. Who are the 451 percenters? Those the folks who believe and spread the lies bout sexual violence being endemic to society. Everyone’s a sexual predator! All 451 percent of women are violated, and all 451 percent of men are violators.
TL;DR: An analysis and rebuttal to the CDC and NISVS’s statistics on sexual violence. The CDC uses NISVS to generate the stats on punny sexual violence that make wild claims, like one third of all women, etc… the 451 percenters’ claims bout punny sexual violence. They use a ‘yes means yes’ method of determining what counts as punny sexual violence, which is aesthetics based. Elevating aesthetical concerns to ethically obligatory concerns is fascistic, and a grave moral fallacy. ‘Yes means yes’ is also puritanical, meaning it overly moralizes sexuality. Putting puritanical fascists in charge of determining how many punny sexual offenses are happening is like putting the KKK in charge of determining how many jews are sexual predators. “All 451 percent of them, obviously!”
Body Of The Post
‘Yes means yes’ is an aesthetical ethical concern, ‘Do I want it or not’. This is what the National Intimate Partner Violence Survey (NISVS) and the CDC use and reflect in their stats on sexual violence. Vibes. They are the ‘emmitt till got what he deserved’ crowd. Whistling at a lady is a criminalizable offense to these folks, a ‘punny sexual violence’.
‘No means no’ is an ethically obligatory concern, ‘Did I refuse it or not’. This is what the criminal stats on sexual violence use and reflect in their stats on sexual violence. Hard data. They are the ‘emmit till did nothing wrong’ crowd. Whistling at a lady is at most tasteless, emmitt till could do far better.
‘Wanting’ or ‘Not Wanting’ something does not consent make. I can want to fuck someone, but not consent to do so. I could not want to fuck someone, but nonetheless consent to do so. The former perhaps because I think it is a bad idea to fuck ‘em even tho I want to. The latter, perhaps because I think it is a good idea to fuck ‘em even tho I don’t want to.
The ‘yes means yes’ folks, the CDC & NISVS stats on sexual violence all mistake ‘wanting’ and ‘not wanting’ for ‘consenting’ and ‘not consenting’; these are not the same things. This is deliberate on their part too. They believe that ‘yes means yes’ is what ought to constitute a determination of sexual violence. Regardless of how y’all view that, it is a deeply controversial notion, and not necessarily reflective of what most people think of when they think of sexual violence.
‘Unwanted’ essentially means ‘I don’t like it’. It is a complaint bout the aesthetical qualities of the sexual encounter, not its consensualism. If this is at all unclear, the simplest method to understand why this is so is to note two unrelated aspects.
One is racism. People regularly ‘feel fearful’ of men for no reason at all, but they also feel fearful of men because of racism all the time. That fear factor ™ is what makes the encounter ‘coercion’ or ‘unwanted’. The person literally does nothing wrong, *just exists* and the other person freaks out.
Note in the quoted sections at the end of this post how much of the stats rely on fear and feelings to generate their numbers.
Two is the person came on too strong or in an undesirable way. The person flirts in a normal and perfectly fine way, but the other person freaks out. Think bout it people, for the love of god think bout it. ‘Coming on too strong’ and ‘an undesirable flirtation’ are being counted as ‘punny sexual violence’ in these stats.
It’s entirely puritanical, and entirely a concern bout aesthetics.
There are other sorts of coercive methods, but the point here is that the terms ‘unwanted’ and ‘coercion’ only really cash out as ‘I don’t like it for some reason or another’ in the CDC’s and NISVS’s stats.
When you see that lady spouting off bout her fears of mexican rapists, she’s reflected in these stats folks. They’re just surveys. People who lock their car doors in ‘bad neighborhoods’ are reflected in those stats.
These all translate to ‘I felt threatened’ (big black boy vibes) or ‘felt pressured’ (scary white guy vibes), or ‘felt in danger’ (native american coming to get you vibes), or ‘felt uncertain if you wanted it’ (arab terrorist vibes) or 'felt like I was being manipulated' (angry asian martial artists vibes) . Doesn’t have to be racism at play here either, women can be irrationally fearful of any man. Vibes.
The actions themselves are not criminalizable.
Non p-hacked stats try to avoid these kinds of obvious ambiguities in the language used to generate the 451 percenters’ stats. These folks however lean into the lies and deceptions, and deliberately use language designed to deceive people reading the stats into thinking that people have been harmed. They take language that means literally ‘I like or don’t like it’ and translate that to mean ‘I was sexually harassed, sexually assaulted, or even raped’.
This is how they inflate the numbers, so we get to the 451 percenters’ wacky ass beliefs; ‘451 percent of women will suffer egregious sexual violence to them at least fifty times in their lives’. All this means is vibes. 451 percent of women get some bad vibes bout some dudes.
You can hear it echoed in the bear or man discourse. Why do women choose the bear? Vibes and irrational fears. ‘We choose the bear because we don’t feel safe!’ translates directly to ‘Emmitt till whistled at me, and he’s a big black boy, that’s scary’ and ‘the mexican rapists are swarming over the border to get me’.
These are the stats that people point to when they try to justify their misandristic hot ass takes. They are self-referential to that same fear based aesthetic the stats are. The stats are reflective of peoples’ irrational fears, and people use those stats to justify their irrational fears, and people spread those fear based stats thereby spreading their unjustified fears. It’s a circle rub.
To criminalize these kinds of things is to be fascistic (treating aesthetics as if they were of obligatory concern), to believe that they are morally reprehensible is to be a puritan (overly moralizing sexuality).
The folks deriving these stats translate ‘unwanted’ (aesthetical ethics) to ‘sexual assault’, ‘sexual harassment’, or ‘rape’ (obligatory ethics), then lump everything together as ‘punny sexual violence’ to get the big numbers used to scare people and terrorize men. That’s called fascism.
“[T]here remains a likelihood of underreporting due to the sensitive nature of SV”.
This justification means that they do not trust people to report SV, ‘don’t believe women when they say they haven’t suffered any SV, manipulate the questions so they say yes to something they don’t think is SV, or which simply isn’t SV, and we’ll just call it SV of this or that sort. Later we’ll propagandize people so they too come to believe our puritanical misandristic hot ass takes.’
There is no lie nor hyperbole in what I am saying here. That is the rationale and the method. If you bone up on your academic lit in the topic, this is, well not verbatim what they say, I am lambasting them here, but this is the crux of what their argument and justifications are, and they explicitly hold that they ought be propagandizing people to their puritanical beliefs.
They push the fascistic (aesthetical ethical) and puritanical (overly moralized sexual ethics) discourse into the public by presenting stats that merely reflect fears and pretend that they are reflective of sexual violence. People then come to believe that those kinds of fear based concerns are actually sexual violence. An ‘unwanted flirtation’ becomes in their minds and only in their minds a sexual violence.
Emmitt till got lynched for whistling at a lady. They only disagree bout the racism, but he definitely deserved to be punished in some way like all men do for whistling at someone they think is hot af. Puritanism.
All just vibes, all but aesthetics, and all fascistically raised to a level of ethically obligatory concern.
“Just as SV is not limited to physically forced penetration, its perpetrators are not limited to strangers. Indeed, perpetrators of SV are more likely to be someone known to the victim. Sexual violence is a problem embedded in our society and includes unwanted acts perpetrated by persons very well known (e.g., family members, intimate partners, and friends), generally known (e.g., acquaintances), not known well or just known by sight (e.g., someone in your neighborhood, person just met) and unknown to the victim (e.g., strangers). “
Be afraid of everyone, any man out there could be your next rapist! That’s right ladies and gents, you’ve been raped several times already, you just didn’t know it. But don’t worry, the statisticians know better. They asked you an unrelated question you said yes to since you were too dumb to know that you were raped, and counted it as rape. Then they informed you that you ought be afraid of everyone in your community, lest they also rape you, unbeknownst to you of course. But again, don’t worry, the statistician will count those too.
As a measure of fear the 451 percenters capture, well or worse who knows, all the racism, sexism, bigotry, and various phobias in the society, and how those fears are transferred onto masculine bodies as imaginary perpetrators of punny sexual offenses. None of it is real, there are not 451 percent of sexual violences happening, 451 percent of men are not sexual predators, and 451 percent of women are not victims of sexual violence.
‘Safety culture’ mostly reflects irrational fears.
Ask the kkk how many black people are rapists, you’re gonna get a high number. Ask puritans how many people are punny sexual offenders, you’re going to get a very high number. Such is the most tame interpretation of what is going on. The 451 percenters are puritans, they’ve overly moralized sexuality, counting offenses to their sensibility rather than criminal actions.
Puritans informing you how ‘vile and wicked’ your sexual ways are; advocating to make their puritanical beliefs bout punny sexual offenses into legally enforceable laws. These are the same kinds of concerns bout a someone dressing too provocatively, such is a ‘punny sexual violation’ to the sensibilities of others.
The less tame version of this is that it is exactly what fascists do. Lie to people especially bout punny sexual offenses in order to ratchet up the fear levels in the population, so they run to them to solve the ‘problem’.
Could be both tho.
Either way, their misandry murders little boys. They celebrate terrorizing men, and rejoice in lynching folks. They’re despicable people.
Solutions?
Ruthlessly love them. Write them love poems, show them kindness and generosity of spirit, but give them not a dime in money, nor ever relent to their irrational fears. Extol their beauty and virtues, make love with them, utterly ruthlessly. Be overtly sexual bout it, in this give them no quarter, bring to an end their puritanism by giving them no plausible cause to be thus. No one under the duress of loves’ enticements and sexual pleasures be puritans. Be relentless, show them masculine sexuality; give them nothing to complain bout, but give them masculine sexuality. Don’t fall for their puritanism, be the boys of summer.
Respect a ‘no means no’ ethic as a code of obligatory actions. Use aesthetical ethics towards good sex with mutual respect given; don’t ever take that as a one way thing. Do not conflate the aesthetics of good sex, 'enthusiastic yeses’ with those of the ethics of obligation ‘no means no’. Don’t be puritans, don’t be fascists, be sex positivists.
Call out the stats when folks bring them up, refer people to these points, feel free to refer people to this post and/or the attached video. ‘But the CDC said’ is not a valid argument; they have put puritans in charge of determining punny sexual offenses. They find punny sexual offenses everywhere they look.
If you’re super coolio, start advocating against the CDC’s use of NISVS to determine what constitutes sexual violence. It doesn’t match with criminal data’s methods, it doesn’t utilize the metrics of ‘no means no’ which are the proper metrics to use, instead it utilizes what amounts to peculiar beliefs bout the aesthetics of sex as a means of measure for punny sexual offenses.
They are spreading a puritanical belief system bout punny sexual offenses, nothing more, and they are causing public health problems by spreading their lies. They are not counting sexual offenses, they are not a criminal justice system, they aren’t technically even in the business of understanding sexual violence. They are the Center For Disease Control, not the ‘center for social engineering sexual practices control’.
Original video on the topic, with some additional resources for understanding these issues in the description.
The Rest Of This Post Is References To The CDC, NISVS, And Crime Data Reports, Along With Some Quotes Thereof With Short Specific Retorts Highlighting The Relevant Info In The Quotes As It Pertains To The Post. This Is But A Small Sample Of How They Use Language Of Aesthetics To Make Their Ethical Claims, And How Their Language Is Misandristic.
sv_surveillance_definitionsl-2009-a.pdf (cdc.gov)
Fast Facts: Preventing Sexual Violence Violence Prevention Injury Center CDC
Key Terms & FAQs National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey (NISVS)Funded
Programs Violence Prevention Injury Center CDC
Some key quotes from this, Bolded text hereafter are coded for ‘yes means yes’ methods of understanding sexual violence, and sometimes misandristic language. Italicized text are quotes from the sources:
“Rape is defined as any completed or attempted unwanted [unwanted is an aesthetic criteria, not a consent criteria which is ‘a no was stated’ attempted while a real thing allows for further insertion of scary vibes to pad the stats, e.g. the blackness of the lover] ...includes times when the victim was drunk, high*, drugged, or passed out and unable to consent.* [puritanical belief bout drinking and drugs, e.g. one cannot consent if drunk or high. Note that it is separate from being drugged or passed out and unable to consent, and that criminally speaking being drunk or high is not indicative of a lack of capacity to consent, also note this is de facto applied to women only].
“Sexual coercion is defined as unwanted sexual penetration that occurs after a person is pressured in a nonphysical way. In NISVS, sexual coercion refers to unwanted vaginal, oral, or anal sex after being pressured in ways that include being worn down by someone who repeatedly asked for sex or showed they were unhappy; feeling pressured by being lied to, being told promises that were untrue, having someone threaten to end a relationship or spread rumors; and sexual pressure due to someone using their influence or authority.”
Unwanted is an aesthetic category, not a consent category. ‘Sexual coercion’ is not a criminal offense either. It is a puritanical belief bout sexuality that is based on a sex negative view, e.g. that sex is a bad unless and until magical words are said to make it into a good. Calling it ‘sexual violence’ is just lying. Coercion is defined misandristically to only be bout penetration, which precludes all the ways that women use sex and sexuality to manipulate, use, abuse, and harm people; note that there are essentially zero surveys done that include some ‘feminine coded coercive behavior’ into these stats. That is by design. Including not incidentally the way that women have historically and currently used irrational fears over their sexuality to terrorize men and get people murdered.
“Unwanted sexual contact is defined as unwanted sexual experiences involving touch but not sexual penetration, such as being kissed in a sexual way, or having sexual body parts fondled, groped, or grabbed.”
Unwanted is aesthetics, not consent. Also this literally describes flirting. I know they want to try and capture some other sort of notion, grossy mcgrosser pinning someone down and groping them, but all this describes here, and all the stats can possibly reflect, is flirting.
“Non-contact unwanted sexual experiences is defined as those unwanted experiences that do not involve any touching or penetration, including someone exposing their sexual body parts, flashing, or masturbating in front of the victim, someone making a victim show his or her body parts, someone making a victim look at or participate in sexual photos or movies*, or* someone harassing the victim in a public place in a way that made the victim feel unsafe.”
This category is quite broad and puritanical in its disposition, as it assumes there is something wrong with seeing naked images unless and until expressed verbal consent is given, and undoubtedly ignores the en masse flood of naked images of women online to which basically every guy is exposed to. Compare again to people who claim that women ought not be allowed to show their ankles as it causes a ‘harm’ to those who are ‘forced’ to see it. Exact same shite. Aesthetical concerns of wanted or unwantedness, and also notice the expressly stated vibes check ‘victim feel unsafe’. Look out for the black boys, they make them feel unsafe!
Crime/Law Enforcement Stats (UCR Program) — FBI
Quick Facts on Sexual Abuse Offenses (ussc.gov)
It’s worth mentioning that statistically speaking, if one uses the stats derived from crime data as opposed to statisticians making numbers up, the percentages of men who do sexual violence, depending a bit on how you count it, are: 0.0516% or .478% or .0957%. Although the video goes over this all in pretty good depth, just do a little sniff test here; are .478% of the male population sexually violating a third of all women, 55.5 million women?

As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

I am neha ( 26 f ) , I am here to vent and get some suggestions or maybe even a real friend . This is a story of how I ruined my love life and destroyed the man who meant everything to me . We grew up in Coimbatore , i first met my boyfriend when I was in 11th grade , I actually saw him in a video , it was a Facebook video made by his friends , one of his friend proposed a girl , so they made a video of it , he was there in it too . He is tall , above 6ft , he looked ok , normal , a bit weird too with his specs and curl hair . He didn’t stand out , after few days I saw in a local chat place , he was with his friend , all sweaty , they came from gym . I recognised him immediately though. I saw him sneakily , idk why , after going home I sent him a request to his Insta . We started talking the same night , he said he saw me too , we connected way too fast , he was very funny and practical, we became best friends very soon , we almost spoke daily , in that following year we became so close, there wasn’t anything sexual , we just talk about our day and our lives daily , then he got into a relationship with a girl , I liked her too , life was so easy and fun back then , after we got into college , I Started to date a guy in my college , but we didn’t stop talking , nothing changed between us , after going to college we started getting drunk and smoking up , it was all new and we all did it almost everyday in first year , it was pretty fun . The guy I was with that time , didn’t really smoke up that much , he got drunk but he didn’t smoke pot that much , but the rest of us gathered everyday to smoke pot and play carrom . We both even meet at night to just smoke up and listen to music . At the end of the first year , one day he called me one evening and told me that he wanted to meet me , he sounded very low , I was with my my boyfriend and his friends that time but I left there immediately,booked an auto and Met him at a usual place near an IT park , we drink coffee and smoke cigarettes there usually.he was already there when I went in , he saw me and smiled but that looked very sad , he told me that his girlfriend kissed someone , a distant cousin of her actually , she kissed him in a moment and texted her girlfriend about it , she mentioned that she regrets it very much , I can’t stand it , I don’t know what to do , I feel nauseous, stuff like that . He showed the screenshots , he didn’t talk much he just smiled but that killed me . I was so angry on her , I didn’t even know what to do to make him feel better at that moment, I said she is not worth it , don’t worry , things like that . He didn’t talk about it after that , he changed the topic and he just sat there for 30-40 mins just smoking thinking about something. We speak almost daily and I know everything about him , he told me when they first had sex , we speak about everything, just not anything sexual to each other , when I saw him like this , I was feeling only rage , I was so angry on her , I don’t understand why she kissed some other guy , after getting into that relationship he was very loyal , I know how loyal he was , he even got a tattoo of her initials , but when he knew about this kiss , it made him so sad I guess . After 2 hours , we went home . I called her as soon as I went home , i scolded her so much , she started crying and told me that it was a mistake, she sounded very regretful too , she cried so much , I couldn’t bring myself to be mean after that .but that night i couldn’t sleep , my ex called me all night but I didn’t pick his call , I kept texting him , we used to text in Snapchat daily , I kept sending him texts and he texted me back to , he said he is going to get drunk and pass out , I also felt that’s better , after some days she even cut her hand , like scratches with knife on wrists , she was very regretful too , then somehow they didn’t break up , he wanted to after that but she didn’t let him , but gradually it got ok , but after this we started to speak and meet more frequently than before , I started to drop him in my college , both of our colleges are in same road , we started going in one vehicle daily. Mostly I drove , we speak all the time about nothing , even when we were going on my scooty , we just make fun of people in road , we laughed , had fun . One day he even pressed my breasts accidentally, side of my breast . I started neglecting my ex , that guy I dated that time , after few months , people started to notice , but still we didn’t care . (I actually come off from a well doing family , my family has enough money but my parents have a very unsuccessful marriage, they don’t even speak to each other , I have a younger sister and elder sister . My elder sister is married , my younger sister difference is 3 years . My parents doesn’t speak to each other , my mom openly says that they are together only for the kids . ) I loved being with him , he made me feel safe , comfortable and it’s always warm when I’m with him . We smoked pot all the time though , it was so fun , we even bunked college went to room and just smoked pot and watched anime all day . One day my ex boyfriend and his friends were in Ooty and they wanted me to come , I said I’ll come with him , I can’t come alone , and I asked him to come . We rolled some joints and started to go in his bike , we went a beautiful ride , stopped and smoked up in between, after we reached there I went with my ex boyfriend. We all smoked up that night got drunk , he usually doesn’t talk that much , but all of us were drunk and it was chill , some of my friends like him some don’t , but it’s all chill . We stayed in a tent stay there , that night I was with my ex , he wanted to make out , we kissed and did some stuff but I just felt restless and distracted, I kept thinking about him and my ex was a drunk too , it didn’t turn me on , after some time he passed out . I went out and went to his tent to see him if he is asleep , but he wasn’t there , then I started to look for him and I found him near the fire place , he was smoking up there alone with a phone in his hand , he was just singing this song 7 years by Lucas I think , he was singing along with a joint in his hand , he saw me coming , smiled but he didn’t stop singing, I can see him feeling even little embarrassed, but he looked so happy and free . I sat down there started to smoke up with him . After sometime I asked him why haven’t even kissed even once , I just asked him in a fun way but he got all serious all of a sudden , he saw me straight in the eyes and told me that he would love to kiss me , I literally felt butterflies in my lower tummy , my hips felt all tight too , idk , I still remember everything though . I kissed him in an instant, I kinda rushed in and kissed him, it felt magical . We kissed for a long time , we just kissed , nothing else . But I loved it , after sometime we separated, he saw me smiled and said I tasted sweet and bitter with weed taste . But my heart was beating so fast that time , I wanted to make out with him right there , I’ve felt horny before but he was the only guy made me feel like this , I tried to kiss him again but he stopped me and told me im drunk and asked me to go sleep . Next morning they asked me to go with them but my mind was fully on that kiss , I came back to cbe in his bike , we didn’t talk anything for the first time I just hugged him on the way back , it was nice too . I thought about plans to break up with my ex , after he dropped me home I kept thinking about the kiss , things got normal after a few days , we were like before but we started to flirt a bit , I started to call him baby and it gradually became very intimate . One day in a movie I kissed him again and he kissed me back too , we started making out bit by bit , it developed into a place where he started to grope me while im driving , I enjoyed every bit of that , I broke up with that guy I was with but he was still with that girl . Around final year first semester end they broke up too . We had intercourse the next day , it was amazing , I loved everything about him and the best thing is he is my best friend too . We rented a place for us by college end , we had sex every single day , it was the best , I loved staying with him . After this there was covid and we had to stay in our place , for one whole year I lived with him happily, he never let me down even once , he was already very caring from beginning but after we got committed , he really did treated me like a princess . He didn’t speak much but his actions were most considerate , we both worked remotely and having the time of our life , two years went by , I was happy and fullfilled , at the end of third year he quit his job and tried to get a different better job with extra good pay , 3 months passed by , one day few friends of mine from my work visited our place , they told me about opportunity to work in chennai for a month , I took it and went to chennai for a month , he dropped me to bus and sent me off to chennai . We spoke daily but not that much , I went out with my friends daily got drunk , just having fun . Some of my friends think my boyfriend is beneath me , one even said that I deserve better , she said he didn’t even get a job in three months joked and asked me whether I am the one who’s paying rent , actually he never asked me rent or money , he always paid for everything , but that time when they were joking I didn’t defend him , I still couldn’t believe that I didn’t say anything . In that week I met a guy , he came with my friends , he flirted with me when I was there , after I went back to PG I got a text from this guy , he got my number from my friends it seems . After some texts I responded and we started texting ,i liked the attention I think idk , I was talking to my boyfriend daily too , but somehow he noticed that I am not ok , he asked me about it and I said it was work issue and I am tired , 3^rd weekend I met that guy alone , he wanted to have a drink and I went , I slept with him that night , to be honest the sex wasn’t good , when he got inside me I felt darkness , I swear . Idk why I did it , after sex that guy slept in a second , I saw him lying down and I felt like killing myself , I left to my pg in midnight , I booked a cab and went back . I saw my snap notifications from him but I couldn’t open it , I blocked that guy’s number , I went to pg , cried myself to sleep . Next morning I spoke to my boyfriend , told him that I got cold and resting today , he told me that he got a job as a business manager for a US IT firm , he sounded so happy and told me that he called yesterday night to tell me this . I was crying so hard when he was on the phone , at that moment I swear I even fogot the face of that I slept with , he asked me to get rest and I hung up . I couldn’t talk to him , I felt so guilty and ashamed , as I was thinking this I get a notification my swiggy that he placed order to my pg , he bought soup . I broke down , it was like everything is telling me how big mistake I made , suddenly my thought went to that day he told me about his ex’s kiss , I can see that sad smile . I decided not to tell him and love him more and more , he had his birthday in 15 days I wanted to do something for him . When I came back from chennai , he picked me , he was so happy to see me , he spoke about his new job to me on the way , he was like a child , maybe cause he missed me for a month , I can see that he is so happy like silly child just to see me , after going home I had sex with him , I even rimmed him and I kinda liked it , it was the best sex we had , I felt alive and also very guilty . I treated him better and better to ease my guilt , but this made him very happy , I arranged a small party with my sister ,his friends and my mom .the day before his birthday we got drunk he asked me why I am not being adamant like before , ‘enna kadhal ha ‘ (joking sayin I am so in love) he joked about how afetr five years we can get super rich and start a family , I melted hearing all this .i promised myself that I will never let him down . but ha ha This is why I think karma is a bitch , at the noon of his birthday I got a text from that guy saying that he is thinking about that night . He heard the notification took the phone to pass it to me , he just saw the phone simply , just a glance and he just stopped and opened the text , I was blowing up balloons opposite of him , I saw his face and my heart sank , he came closer and gave me the phone , he didn’t speak anything , I opened my phone in a panic , saw the text and I saw him , he asked me ‘ so you slept with some guy ? ‘ , I didn’t reply , my whole mind got blank , I felt like I was gonna faint , he just saw me and said why . Of all these years I knew him I never saw him cry , but now his voice was shaking , he just asked me ‘ yen ‘ (why in tamil) . I saw tears on his eyes , I can see his eyes becoming lifeless in a matter of minutes , I tried to hug him but he just moved away , no matter how much we fight , when I hug him , he gets all cute and lovely , but he just moved away in an instinct . He then came forward hugged me tightly , he said ‘ sorry ‘ . I still don’t know why he said sorry , but that sounded so weak to me , he is my everything and I hurt him , I know everything about him and I still fucked up . He hugged me for some more time , I knew this warmth might be the last thing . After few mins , he rubbed his eyes in my dress , saw me smiled the same way . But it felt more like he is laughing at himself , I watched my 6 ft man walking out of the room , I just stood there alone , and I felt very cold , I remember that cold everyday , evening people came for the party and he got ready and cut the cake , fed me the first piece , my mom and sister was there too , he behaved very good , spoke with my family , but I can see that he is broke , but he still made it through the night , I went to speak with him that night , but he said he can’t . he said ‘ please I can’t ‘ . I choked hearing his voice , he went to terrace , I didn’t sleep at all that night , I walked around our little one bhk apartment , I smoked two packs of cigs that night , I went to check on him in the terrace by 4 , he was sleeping there on the floor , he hugs himself in sleep and its so cold , I cried watching him , just one day ago he was being silly like a kid talking about future family , now he is there alone , heartbroken . Morning usually he makes coffee and rolls one , I made coffee and rolled one , waited for him to come down . He came down saw me and smiled , but its not the cheerful smile , it just hurt so bad watching him like that , he drank the coffee , smoked up with me , even told me its good. Then he got ready , I cooked but he said he can’t eat , he is not hungry , that morning was so silent , he cheers up with he sees me , he was my biggest fan , now he left home with just saying bye . I got a text from him that aftrn asking me to move back to my mom’s if possible , I was dead . I couldn’t say no , I hurt him , he didn’t even scold me , he even requested me , I can only say yes . I asked him that I want to stay one more night , he said ok like always . That night I asked him to cuddle with me , he said ok , he wanted that too it seems , we just hugged in silent , he slept off quickly , he always told me that when I sleep with him it makes him stressfree and he gets a good night sleep . He was asleep on my breasts , I saw him sleeping and I couldn’t stop my tears , realising that this is the last time , I made a stupid mistake , but everything felt unimportant now , I saw him sleeping and I kissed him on his cheek , must have whispered sorry a 100 times , our four years relationship came through my mind , I realize that he made sure I was happy in every way he knew , I proposed him , I made him fall for me , now I broke his heart . I didb’t sleep that night too , morning I dozed off , when I woke up he wasn’t there, he made juice for me and left for work . I packed some of my stuff and went to my mom’s . when I stepped out of our little home , I broke down and cried . I went home and cried , I told my mom we fought , but my sister knew something was up , she tried to ask him but he said it was a small fight , I confessed to her that night , I still remember seeing her confused look , she is a gen z kid , but even she gave me a look of confusion , she didn’t understand how I could do that , she liked my boyfriend very much , she was almost proud of him . But when she knew I cheated on him , she felt disgusted I think . Our sister bind kind of broke too that night . My life was dull , I missed him every second , I missed talking to him , I missed his smell , everything . I just focused on work , two months went by with no contact . I saw him near IT park at our spot one day, he looked like he was sick , he lost weight , his eyes are dry , he looked so pale . I saw him from a distance and I couldn’t believe my eyes , my baby looked so weak and sick , he was having a coffe and smoking a cig alone at the place we used to sit . My eyes teared up watching him , he looked so lonely . None of my friends knew we broke up because I cheated , he specifically asked me not to say anything to anyone . I didn’t speak to him that day , I couldn’t . I was full with guilt . After going home I called his friends and asked how he was and they said that they lost all contact with him and he is ghosting everybody . I broke him and also made him alone , I seriously considered killing myself but I was a coward . After a month , when I was in office , my mom got a diabities issue and fainted , my sister called him in a hurry , he came immediatiely and admitted mom in hospital , when I came there I saw him with a plastic cover with insulins for my mom . After my elder siter came , he left , he asked me to call with updates . Before leaving he asked me why I cheated , he said “ is it because I am not satisfying you “ or “ you wanted a emotial support “. when he said that , I just stood there , I can see his face , hiding a humiliation , I never had a sex issue with him , I loved being with him , but my baby asked me this , I felt ashamed . I couldn’t face him , I just stood there , he said never mind and left . I stood there seeing him leave ,but I didn’t give up , I started texting and snapping so much and somehow I made him talk to me normally , but his eyes has lost its color, he looks like he is tired of everything . After few days we both got drunk and alone , I kissed him as soon as I got the chance , he kissed me back too , usually when he kisses , he hold me ears , looks me in the eyes and kiss me , he did the same out of the habit , as soon as our eyes locked , he bursted out in tears , I truly felt how much this man loved me and how much I hurt him , he wanted to do more but he stopped himself , when he burst into tears, my heart completely broke , I hate myself so much , I hate my friends for fucking up my mind , I hate that guy . My man is gettting punished for giving everything to me , its been a year , he changed , he looks lean , unhealthy , I even think his hair is falling , almost like a zombie . I would glady kill myself for him , I just want him to be happy , I destroyed the only person I love , I see how devastating this can get for him, he looks so weak , I can’r accept it . I should’ve defended him when they joked about him . Its all my fault , its been a year and I still can;t go back to him , I can’t imagine another guy to raise my kids , I want him . Help me .

I'm an alcoholic, I've been sxually assaulted, groomed online at 11, groomed by dad until 13, possibly as r*ped by dad at 3-4, my dad is an angry drunk and my mom has been addicted to xans for 17 yrs of my life. I have fucking cptsd and a possible dissociative disorder. I've had psychotic episodes from 11-15 that have probably fried my brain. I accidentally tried to off myself at 9/10 and tried again at 11/12. I've alr taken pills and I started drinking at 14. I literally cut a hole in my ankle w nail scissors and sawed my nose bridge w a butter knife at 11. I still remember what both of them sounded like. I wish I didn't the sound is horrible.
I had alcohol poisoning which gave me a seizure and landed me in the er 1 month ago, I was s*xually assaulted 3 weeks ago, I have exams, I have 2 infected cysts, my room is a literal biohazard, my skin looks like shit cus I haven't been taking care of it, I haven't texted back any of the ppl I'm trying to date in like a month, AND the thing that rlly shits me is that my mom ordered my fav takeout and I didn't even eat it. It was fucking £18 and I have not had a single bite. I can't even eat it later cus I left it out for hrs and forgot abt it so now I have to throw away my fav food that my mom ordered. I'm literally abt to cry that was my fav food and I was so excited but I forgot abt it and now I can't have it. All I wanted was my fucking chicken, milkshake, and mac n cheese. I rlly wanted that food.
On top of all that me and my mom had a fight last night where I ended up telling her that I don't feel like she cares abt me, that she never wanted me/a child, that she would've been happier if she never had me. I feel like me being born was the start of the downward spiral in her life and I'm scared ill end up like her. If she never had me she wouldn't have stayed w my dad. I'm worried ill end up older, no friends, hating my job, no s/o and crying to my kid abt how I hate my job.
I feel like I was doomed from the start. I come from a line of drug addicts, alcoholics, and depressed ppl. My grandpa was an alcoholic, my dad is an alcoholic, my mom was addicted to xans, my grandma was addicted to xans, and my other grandma had depression. It's also been mentioned that all my grandparents' parents rlly sucked.
I left my childhood hair clip box in a hotel room 2 yrs ago when we moved countries to leave my dad. It's cus we didn't pack properly and we had to take all our stuff in trash bags to a hotel. We couldn't fit everything into our bags. I left it to take some of my mom's stuff. It was a very cute little brown square box w a checkered border on the lid. It had lots of cute stickers and little girl hair clips and it had stickers of little Einsteins and the wonder pets. If ur wondering if im still pissed abt that, the answer is yes. It was a cute little box that was mine that I wasn't ready to let go of but I had to leave it in a dingy hotel so its probably in a landfill rn or it's been incinerated so that's js fucking amazing.
If ur wondering if I want to off myself or if I will try the answer is no. I like movies and my dog and my mom and music and flowers and ppl laughing too much. I also have a lot of ppl I fucking hate and I refuse to die before them out of spite so I'm def not dying.
Edit: the cysts r not from the sa it was groping over my clothes and also js wanted to say that sometimes I feel like being sa'd and stuff was inevitable. Like I feel like it was js my destiny in some twisted way like it was always going to happen to me whether it was now or when I'm 80. A boy also told me that girls like me get r*ped so that might be part of why I think like this.

The question being posed is structured in a way that invokes the most emotional response from anyone who engages with it, which I feel is intentional.
Generally, I’ve seen the question posed as, ”If you were alone in the woods, would you rather encounter a man or a bear?”
If we break the question down into the information that we know, we can determine the following:
• We are alone in the woods,
…and that’s it. We don’t actually have any other information to go off of. We don’t have any idea of how the encounter takes place, the distance between the man/bear and the woman that is encountering them, if the woman has anything to defend herself typically carried when alone in the woods such as a firearm or some sort of blade or hatchet, or the surroundings at all. And that is exactly why people feel so strongly one way or the other.
Even just the concept of “a forest” looks vastly different from person to person. For me, a forest looks similar to the way they do in the southeastern United States, which is a temperate coniferous forest characterized by lots of pine and thick undergrowth. For others, it may more closely resemble a temperate broadleaf forest, which is the vast majority of the continental U.S.. The actual forest type is probably one of the least important pieces of the puzzle, but the point is that we use our own lived experiences to fill in the blanks of what we expect the scenario to look like.
We see this trope of “The Unknown” used very effectively in the horror genre, as it is entirely up to us to come up with the perceived reality of the situation. All we know is that the protagonist of the story is in a bad position and is currently under threat. With that, our brains come up with the worst thing that we could plausibly believe if we were in the same position. This phenomenon, while powerful, also leads to difficulties for the horror genre if the threat ever becomes tangible. If you’ve ever seen a scary movie and the monster turns out to be a weird goofy looking puppet that is obviously not real, you’ll end up feeling disappointed, as you had a perception in your mind that the threat was far more frightening than it actually is.
For most women, they have zero experience with bears, especially in the context of seeing them up close with no barrier to separate them from you. However, there is an innumerable amount of interactions between women and men. While logically, encountering a bear is probably more dangerous from an outward perspective, lived experience forces people to fill in the blanks. I’ve been with my wife since we were in high school, and she was groped by a man that she knew at a college party I was not able to attend. That experience will live with her for the rest of her life and I regret every day that I was not there to do anything about it. She would be correct to pick the bear, as she has grown up in a society where things like this are not treated as harshly as they should be. We could get into the specifics of how and why it is this way, but that is the way it is.
The disconnect comes from the way this is perceived by others who view it as a way to dogpile men as a collective without taking into consideration that they are nothing like the men that women typically fear. Based on the lived experience of many men, the level of distrust the average woman has for an average man can be genuinely damaging to the mental perception they have of themselves. This is why they feel defensive, not that they are jumping at the chance to run into a woman who is alone in the woods. When I first heard the question, my immediate reaction was to feel defensive because I know that I would never do something to a woman in that scenario. Every day I strive to make the women in my life feel as safe as possible. I only realized later that the image of a man in this imagined scenario will always be the worst version possible. It required me to chew on it a lot before gathering my thoughts and realizing that the answer is not obvious despite what people say.

TL;DR: The question is worded as vaguely as possible to ensure that people will paint a mental picture that is the worst thing they could imagine, rather than what is likely. This tactic is used commonly in the horror genre. Men need to be more empathetic towards women who pick the bear, but men should also not be ridiculed for initially feeling hurt by the perception that being in the woods with a literal bear, apex predators of the forest, is preferable to being in the woods with them. We need more empathy on the whole, and this question requires an introspective understanding that many people have not regularly trained. Go to therapy you filthy animals!

I am NOT the Original Poster. That is u/Uncle-Barnacle. She posted in EntitledPeople.
Thanks to u/No-Mechanic-3048 for the rec!
Trigger Warnings: animal abuse; sexual harassment;
Mood Spoiler: Good ending for OOP
Original Post: January 27, 2024
As the title says, last week I kicked what I thought was a good friend out of my house because I can no longer handle her antics. Just wanna write it here just to destress and deal with the grief of losing a friend.
Kendall (25F) and I met in university in 2016, we studied different majors but were from the same department so we share many classes together and bonded over our passion for gaming and memes.
Upon graduation, Kendall moved back to her hometown due to covid and found a job there, we kept in touch online through Instagram.
About 3 years later, Kendall told me she found a better paying job in the city I so she's planning to move out from her parents place. When I asked her about her plans on her accomodations she replied with "That's the thing, I was going to ask if you have an extra bedroom that I could move into"
For context, I have inherited an apartment from my late grandfather which is a nice 3 bedroom 2 bath near the city center last year January and I currently live alone there since it is closer to my workplace and it has all the convenience of public transport.
After some thinking I thought that there's no harm in living with Kendall since I considered us as close friends. We discussed the terms and ofc the rent. A week later Kendall moved into my apartment. It was great at first, my home felt more lively than usual and the thought of going home to a close friend warmed my heart and gave me a sense of security. Things were okay for awhile and then sh*t goes downhill super quick.
Kendall started complaining about many things at home, about her work, her savings and how she feels homesick. At first I was very accommodating, thinking maybe she just needs time to get used to the city life. I offered as much help as I can, even to the point of if she's low on money I don't mind voiding a month's rent if it meant I could help her to achieve financial stability.
I taught her how I save money, how I live off with my then low salary with several commitments like my car, my dog and a student loan. I grew up where my parents expect me to be independent so I told her things I'd do when I'm low on cash, how to get freelance jobs etc but she always seem to have excuses for every suggestion I have. Finding a freelance job is too hard, or how she couldn't let go of her premium junk food, that she isn't willing to cook or meal prep, and I eventually decided to leave it as it is.
And after two months of living together, I realised Kendall started treating me as some kind of competition. She would constantly ask me things like how much money I make a month, how many job hoppings did that take. Anything that she thinks she's better than me, she'll definitely pop that question. She boasts about how she is loyal to her "sh#tty paying company" and how I would never be able to move up the corporate ladder as she called me "an industry frog" 🐸.
She once snooped my savings balance and asked how tf did I have so much saved up with commitments etc (mind you she didn't have a lot of commitments since her parents paid off her student loans and fully paid off a brand new car for her) and maybe I should stop collecting rent from her. I got mad, and told her if she isn't happy living with me maybe she should move out. Queue crocodile tears as she said it was a joke I didn't have to take her seriously she begged for forgiveness and promised to never snoop my personal items and details again. I let it go once, but she kept bringing things up like, "well you have the cash and a credit card" everytime I told her I rather stay home because I no longer have the budget to go out and "have fun". Comments like these became more frequent when I got a new job 6 months ago.
On top of that, she doesn't clean up after herself, tried to flirt with my boyfriend and at times parked in my parking space when our initial agreement was that she has to find her own parking space if she's moving in with her own car because my apartment only has one parking lot per unit.
The straw that broke the camel's back was when I caught her kicking my dog in his abdomen when I got home from work. I yelled at her and rushed to check my dog, luckily he was fine but I still rushed him to the vet for safety measures. I got home and she sneered that it was just a dog and as a friend I shouldn't treat her like that. I asked why she'd kicked my dog and she didn't answer me, she shrugged and tried to escape into her room.
At this point it was already about a year since Kendall moved in with me. I lost my cool and told her off, bringing up her problems and how I tried to be nice and accommodating. Then I told her I'm giving her a week to move out and that from then on I rather we keep our relationship casual or we don't ever talk at all. Kendall cried and begged me to not kick her out but soon it turned into her screaming back at me, calling me a bad friend because apparently in her words, I "didn't tell her off on how badly she was behaving" (like wtf?!). There was a lot of back and forth which I don't remember what I said, but I remember eventually calling her an entitled brat. She cried again saying it was uncalled for and stormed off to her room.
The next day I was bombarded with texts from other uni friends, some calling me selfish and others sympathize with me. Apparently, Kendall posted our argument on Facebook and Instagram, painting me to be the bad guy. I was upset at first but I decided that after Kendall moved out we would no longer be friends as well as those who took her side of the story and condemned me.
Last week, Kendall left, and I have changed the locks on my apartment. I curled up in bed and cried myself out, probably from the sadness of losing a friend or maybe I am finally letting out all the frustrations.
I am definitely still griefing about this loss of a friend as I've had many good times with Kendall. For now I wanna focus on myself and hopefully I eventually get over this.
Edit: The whole "teasing" that I have more money than Kendall gotten worse when I told her I was given an offer by an MNC as a Senior Designer, and I disclosed her the offered salary (as we always did, like I know how much she earns too) which was about 50% more than hers. That was dumb on my part, I now understand why my parents told me to never disclose/discuss salaries the moment I started working
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: Kendall should eat a whole bag of dicks. You did well looking out for yourself, and your dog.

OOP: Yea but it took me a year to see how my "friend" didn't treat me like one ☹️

Commenter: Per your post, I would think that Kendall is a user rather than an actual friend. You will need time to heal. I recommend that you seek short-term psychological counseling to help - and maybe find out how to more effectively set and enforce personal boundaries.

OOP: Im planning to look into those as well, if I could afford them. But for the time being I'll try to find comfort in spending time with doggo, my bf and drowning in my hobbies :))

Commenter: If I were you, I'd be telling everyone she was hurting your dog - that would probably swing some opinions real quick

OOP: I did but some still called me an AH for kicking a poor girl who has travelled far from her hometown out in a big city 😒 I got off fine but why can't she?

Commenter: Also, time to step back for just a moment. Your so-called friend had No Student Loans and a Brand New Car. She has parents who can help her out. They created this puppy- kicking monster; they can deal with her. You gave her plenty of opps to play nice.
You don't owe her squat!!! Hold your head high! You're a wonderful person

OOP: Yet I don't understand where her money went, her wallets are always empty near the end of the month. She once showed me her savings balance, which was two digits, she was asking if I could lend her money. Luckily I didn't lend her any, but that's probably why she was angry at me for a week lmao

Commenter: This type hates being told no. They often seek revenge. If they put a fraction of that energy into working for what they wanted? They’d be in great shape. May you think of her no more & enjoy your life!

OOP: Exactly what I thought, there were so many other things and ways she could have work around to be stable financially, it's true I probably didn't have to collect rent from her but I was glad I did, even if it wasn't a year's worth. I spent so much for that thorough checkup of my boii after she kicked him :((

Commenter: I would have thrown her out on her ass the second I saw her kick my dog. That is completely unacceptable. She's lucky you gave her a week.

OOP: It ain't easy out in the city where I'm from, but she moved out in a couple of days after asked her to move out, last I heard one of our uni friends who called me an AH allowed her to crash at their place while she finds her own place to rent. I wish them good luck for sure they gonna end up like me

Commenter: Change your accounts so all paper work is clear so she cannot pretend to be you. Social security office visit to be sure no new accounts have been opened in your name is mandatory to cleanse sociopath vibe from your life.

OOP: Oh no worries about that, where I'm from to make most accounts would need my fingerprints and my physical id which neither have been missing, but thanks for the heads up on that! I've never considered from this angle

OOP originally paid the dog tax but has since deleted the picture.
Commenter: Anyone who could harm such a sweet boi would instantly be dead to me. For this alone, you are absolutely in the right!

OOP: I was really worried, but luckily the vet said he's as fit as a fiddle and as sturdy as ever
(to a different comment) From the checkups and with my vet's assurance, it seems like I caught her hurting my dog for the first time. He has never shown any sign of nervousness or anxiety near Kendall up till the day she kicked him, then again I didn't have cameras installed at home so I'm not sure if she has every attempted anything prior to this.
The most important thing is my ol'boy is still healthy and happy, with a tiny bruise which dissipated after a few days

Update Post 1: February 14, 2024 (3 weeks later)
Hello everyone, I'm here with some updates about me and my doggo as well as my now ex-friend, Kendall.
Let's start off with the update about myself. I've been doing well and surprisingly as some of you mentioned previously, I had gotten over the lost of this friendship rather quickly. My boyfriend planned a trip to a pet friendly beachfront hotel and I spent a few days with just my boyfriend and doggo. We played in the sea water and I watched my dog played in the sand. Overall had a great time and we even had grilled fish together while watching the sun set. (Doggo had a deboned fish fillet)
I am also grateful for my friends who stood by my side regarding this issue, they check in on me from time to time and sent me funny content to watch during my free time. Some of them even told me their stories about Kendall and their discontentment with her behavior, which I will list some below.
Friend A: Kendall ridiculed Friend A several times because Friend A earned less than Kendall despite he has worked a year longer than Kendall.
Friend B: Kendall trash talked Friend B's company via instagram just because Kendall flunked her interview with said company with flying colors.
Friend C: Kendall always demands Friend C to be her personal driver during our college days. If Friend C refuses, Kendall will guilt trip her.
Friend D: Ruined Friend D's assignment by 'pranking' him. She actually formatted his laptop when the project was due in two weeks. When confronted, all Kendall said was 'oopsies'.
There are many more but these are the more icky ones I've heard from my friends.
And now with that out of the way, here is today's main course:-- after I kicked Kendall out of my house, one of my uni friends, let's call her Anne, stood by Kendall's version of events and has allowed Kendall to move in with her instead. Anne called me out of the blue this afternoon and her first question to me was: "How on earth did you managed to put up with Kendall for a year? She's driving me crazy!!" Long story short, whatever Kendall did when she's living with me, she now does it to Anne. Snooping Anne's personal items, leaving dirty laundry around...generally being a prick in the butt. Anne told me she's planning to force Kendall out of her house too. I didn't comment much since Anne were among those who called me a cruel person, but now it has came back to bite her.
But wait, that's not all, according to Anne, Kendall lost her job because she tried to ask for a 100% increment and assaulted her supervisor when the increment request was turned down two weeks ago. She was immediately escorted out of the office building by security. And she just texted me 20mins ago saying she needed a favour from me that she wants a job at my workplace.
I replied stating there isn't any vacancy. Tbh even if there is I wouldn't hire her lmaoo.
So yea, I hope this is the last time I will hear from Kendall and I'll only update if somehow , something interesting happened that involves Kendall 🤣
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: "Anne told me she's planning to force Kendall out of her house too." How in the ever loving world did you not reply, "Wouldn't that be cruel though?"

OOP: I went with a sarcastic tone of, "Oh wow really? What happened?" 🤣

Commenter: Bet Kendall applies to the company and uses OP as a reference anyway.

OOP: Regarding this I have no worries about it since hr has to wait for me to filter through candidates for my department before sending out an email invite for job interviews. I'll make sure to shred Kendall's if I see hers

Commenter: What about the other departments??

OOP: She only has skills for my dept, sadly. I'm working in an advertising agency it's either graphic designer or motion designer, Kendall can't for the love of God make good designs. She would only want my department. Even if she tried, I doubt she could get into my company since one of the requirements is to be able to converse in basic japanese and you are tested during the interview plus you would need to show the certification of JLPT.
Thanks for giving this advice guys, but no worries I doubt Kendall would be able to pass the first screening :D

Commenter: I can imagine her turning up on your door step wanting a place to stay do you have a camera doorbell. just in case she will be getting desperate for friends and a place to stay now people are realising how crazy she is.

OOP: I have set up a new doorbell cam, I live in an apartment and there's plenty of cameras in the lift and corridor. Plus, I wouldn't be that afraid of her appearing at my door step since the security would call me to verify if I have visitors. A simple "no" would render her plans useless.

Commenter: Please keep us posted if anything happens with Kendall going forward. This is too funny and she’s too crazy for this to be the end of it.

OOP: Man I can't believe I was crying over the loss of this friendship. Rn I'm laughing at everything she has done or tried to do to people.

Commenter: Shouldn't she have been arrested for the assault? [at work]

OOP: Maybe her employer didn't press charges? Idk

Commenter: How many days she stay with Anne?

OOP: I think it's about or almost a month? She moved in quite quickly with Anne after I told her she had a week to leave.

Update Post 2: May 5, 2024 (3+ months from OG post)
At this point I wonder if I should change the title to "The Kendall Chronicles" 🤣
Hello everyone, it's been about two months since I kicked my now ex friend, Kendall out of my home. For those who has read my story before, just wanna let you guys know doggo and I are well fed and happy.
If you guys remember last time, Anne, one of my friends who sided with Kendall, told me about all the horrible things that has happened while having Kendall as a roommate. Ho boy, Anne had to call the cops to evict Kendall.
I happen to meet Anne at a pet friendly cafe to enjoy a good book yesterday while my doggo gets to enjoy playing at the doggy daycare-ish kinda area. I did wonder if it was intentional on her side since all my friends know I love this cafe in particular. Anne greeted me and asked if she could sit and have a chat with me. We started out with some small talk but the moment she brought up about her evicting Kendall, I just sat there and listened.
I gave Anne a smile and prodded her lightly with a comment I borrowed from the previous comment on reddit, "Oh, so you're gonna really kick her out then? I remember someone last told me it was cruel to kick a friend out of their homes." Anne stuttered for awhile before saying how I should have made a post to counteclarify Kendall's social media claims about me. I simply told her neither have I the energy to do so nor I have the need to. Which in turn, landed us in some brief awkward silence before I asked what she needed from me. Anne told me she wanted someone to vent to about Kendall and didn't know who to turn to.
Anne told me she filed a police report against Kendall; for theft and destruction of property, and ultimately Anne needed the assistance of police officers to evict Kendall from her home. She is also in the midst of filing a restraining order as she mentioned Kendall looked completely psycho at that moment. Unlike me, Anne lives in landed property so I guess she'd be a lot more worried about Kendall coming back to find her.
Kendall apparently stole Anne's debit card and spent a whopping 2k$ in total. Anne only found out about the missing money when she found her debit card missing from her wallet. She checked the bank statements only to find that 2k$ went to clothes, expensive meals and clubbing activities. At this point, one might ask, how did Anne know it was Kendall that spent that money? Well, the answer presented itself when Kendall came home screaming at Anne for terminating her debit card. According to Anne, Kendall was shouting every insult in the book while flailing her arms around with Anne's debit card in hand which Kendall proceeded with slamming the card on the table before storming off into her room.
That was the first time Anne felt afraid of another person much less a friend. Since then, Kendall made Anne's life hell on earth. Kendall would leech off Anne's groceries, judges her choice of snacks, body shames Anne etc. Kendall also attempted to seduce Anne's boyfriend. She once kissed Anne's boyfriend, (let's call him Jason) on the cheek and giggled before running straight for her room during movie night. In another instance she groped Jason's manhood right in front of Anne but later claimed that she was drunk and thought what she touched was a couch pillow. The worst thing that Kendall did was throwing herself onto Jason and saying she has a fever and later guided Jason's hand to feel her breast in which Anne walked in at the same time Jason's hand was under Kendall's shirt. These incidents has since cause a strain between the three and Jason felt awkward to the point where he told Anne he would stop visiting her house unless Kendall moves out. Anne cried for a bit when she reached this part.
Anne then told Kendall to move out, and gave her a week to do so. Kendall then cried and ran out of the house only to come back later in the evening to lock herself in her room. Anne presumed that Kendall is packing her stuff and she decided to ignore Kendall for the time being. The next morning Anne woke up to the sound of some grunts and broken ceramics. She rushed out to her yard to see an unhinged Kendall swinging a rod against everything she could hit, a tree, flower pots, even the grass on the ground. This led Anne to immediately lock her doors and call the police fearing for her own safety. The police arrived and handled the situation swiftly and they took Kendall away. There were still a lot of screaming and shouting. Anne said she's not sure if Kendall is being locked up or has anyone who would've posted bail for her.
While I guess it was kinda nice sipping tea about Kendall but at how Anne described Kendall is behaving, I wonder if she'd actually needed professional help. I can't help but feel sad for her condition despite we have gone no contact for two months.
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: And why is this still your problem , Anne made her choice , why you still talk to her, she not a good friend , she is like Kendall, a two face snake.

OOP: I have went no contact since Anne's last call two months ago but I believed she went to my favourite cafe spot to try to bump into me and well I have a hard time turning others down so I decided to serve myself some Kendall tea I guess
After this I would probably not want to hear anything about Kendall, Anne or anybody that decided to take in Kendall

Commenter: What about Anne's bf ? He's not naive to the point of having his hand led under shirt iniit

OOP: Anne only told me about the things Kendall did to Jason, maybe she did mention his reaction but I just don't remember the entire thing she told me (I have bad memory)
The gist of it is that these "interactions" had affected their relationship. She didn't further elaborate I didn't probe.

Commenter: While these stories are interesting to read, I wonder how true they actually are. If her parents were so wealthy and paid for her education and car, then at what point has anyone called them and informed them to her behavior? I’m not buying it

OOP: I never had her parents' contact so it didn't really cross my mind to call her parents. While it is hard to believe, it is true, some of us had long severed ties with Kendall since her incident with me.
Kendall also didn't say much about her parents. For all I know was that she moved out of her parents' place because she wanted a better paying job.

I'm sure this has came up here before but i'm curious what the explanation is as i can't find one. Nearly everything about the Demon suggests it's Lamashtu not Pazuzu. I don't believe it was a mistake as Blatty was very well educated and heavily researched The Exorcist, and certain things about the Demon clearly point to Lamashtu which couldn't be a simple mistake.
At the start there's this passage:
Rotted teeth. The Kurd was grinning, waving farewell. The man in khaki groped for a warmth in his pit of his being and came up with a wave and a mustered smile. It dimmed as he looked away. He started the engine, turned in a narrow, eccentric U and headed toward Mosul. The Kurd stood watching, puzzled by a heart-dropping sense of loss as the jeep gathered speed. What was it that was gone? What was it he had felt in the stranger's presence? Something like safety, he remembered; a sense of protection and deep well-being. Now it dwindled in the distance with the fast-moving jeep. He felt strangely alone.
That's talking about the Pazuzu statue leaving the area very clearly, that's the "safety" that's leaving, Merrin is leaving in his Jeep with the Pazuzu statue, that's why he immediately felt uneasy. The very next scene is Merrin (referred to as The Man in Khaki) going through the stuff they excavated and finding the Pazuzu statue.
You could argue it's Merrin who brought that sense of safety. But i can't agree, Blatty researched this stuff too well he's knows what Pazuzu is supposed to be. It's supposed to be a protector of mothers and pregnant women against Lamashtu the Demon that attacks mothers and pregnant women and children/babies. The first direct description of Pazuzu is this too:
It was a green stone head of the demon Pazuzu, personification of the southwest wind. Its dominion was sickness and disease. The head was pierced. The amulet's owner had worn it as a shield.
"Shield" i think seriously suggests protection too. This is seriously suggesting Pazuzu is a protective Deity, which makes no sense for the Demon inside Regan. Its dominion was sickness and disease, is referring to crops right? Or peoples reaction to the havoc he caused to farmers? He caused famine and blight through its destruction of the crops. Exorcist II is a piece of shit and doesn't involve Blatty but i think those researching it clearly realized what Pazuzu actually is as a menacing deity so turned it into a swarm of locusts, that feels more like Pazuzu not the terrorizing mothers part which is diametrically opposed to what it's supposed to be.
It never made sense that Pazuzu was the demon when he's supposed to be the being that protected mothers, the demon in The Exorcist terrorizes Chris. When i first found that out i thought Blatty just didn't really research things and just thought Pazuzu was a creepy statue, but then i found out he seriously did research everything including Mesopotamian Faith.
Isn't it possible that in the Book version at least, Merrin knowingly or unknowingly brought along the statue of Pazuzu (isn't it suggested visually in a scene, with a shadow or something?) and that protected Regan from Lamashtu or another Demon? It would work very well as before Merrin's arrival the demon is clearly winning.
The main thing that suggests it's Pazuzu in the movie is Mercedes McCambridge being credited as the voice of Pazuzu i believe, but was Blatty responsible for the credits or was the studio? I'd guess the latter?
Then everything regarding animals heavily suggests it was Lamashtu.
Lamashtu is depicted as a mythological hybrid, with a hairy body, a lioness' head with donkey's teeth and ears, long fingers and fingernails, and the feet of a bird with sharp talons). She is often shown standing or kneeling on a donkey, nursing a pig and a dog, and holding snakes. She thus bears some functions and resemblance to the demon Lilith^\3]) in Jewish mythology.
Regan neighs various times, a neigh i think could be confused with a donkeys bray if coming out of a little girl, plus it's Karras who calls it a "neigh". "nursing a pig and a dog" she oinks and barks various times. "Nursing a pig" is especially interesting, as he calls Regan her "sow" which is the name for a female pig, he says it lovingly also calling her his "pearl and flower". Then during the spiderwalk scene she darts her tongue out like a snake.
Pazuzu doesn't match nearly as well as Lamashtu: Pazuzu is depicted as a combination of diverse animal and human parts. His body of canine form, though scaled not furred,[18] with birds' talons for feet, two pairs of wings, a scorpion's tail and a serpentine penis.[17] He holds his right hand up and his left hand down. His face is striking, with gazelle horns,[19] human ears, a doglike muzzle, bulging eyes, and wrinkles on the cheeks.[19]
The Demon almost always refers to Regan as a Piglet or Sow, and calls Chris "the sow mother".
There's also the problem that the Demon is a compulsive liar and it says there's multiple beings inside Regan, including something it refuses to call a Demon because it's stupid and Demon means "wise one". But i'm just curious for an explanation of the discrepancies between Pazuzu the Mesopotamian Deity and the Demon in the book, especially since Lamashtu matches it much better.

Preface: "Don't you ever dare to think you can escape me, Dalia. You're mine to love, mine to hate, mine to protect, and mine to destroy. You belong to me, you've always been." His words were nothing but a mere whisper as the man who clutched onto me once again savored my lips as if he'd been famished his whole life for this very moment. His tongue danced with mine in a game neither of us understood. Were they fighting for love or fueled by hate?
One of his hands secured me in my position, as if he was scared I'd escape. And his other hand took its sweet time caressing and teasing my skin as it traveled to its destination. His lips never left mine, even as my lungs burned for air and I wriggled my body to make him stop. But he didn't. It was as if he was intent on making it my last kiss, and is determined to make it worth it. The moment he found my burning core, he cupped it, squeezing it until I withered in pain.
I bit onto my bottom lip, sinking my teeth so deep that drops of blood dripped from it as I tried to hold in the loud, throaty moan daring to escape. There was just a thin wall keeping us apart from the horde of media who were standing outside eagerly waiting to get their hands on something that would tear us to shreds. If there's something better than a scandal, it's a celebrity scandal. And an affair of a newbie actress with Hollywood's heartthrob is definitely news worth telling. It could ruin his career and my life, yet it didn't matter to him. All he wanted in this moment was to claim the woman he's loved all his life and who destroyed his love within a minute.
"Do you know, Dalia, what you mean to me? I love you so damn much that I could write your name all over my life. Yet I hate you just as much that I'd burn down everything I am to wipe you from existence," he breathed against my lips, finally allowing me to breathe. I took a lungful of air, only to have my breath catch in my throat as his fingers ruthlessly slid into my folds.
"Altair, stop! It... it hurts," I barely managed to speak the words when another of his fingers slid into my burning core, stretching me to a point I'd never experienced before.
But my pleas had no effect on him; his three fingers continued to torture me, sliding to the depths of my womanhood and then pulling back, only to fill me to the brim once again. The sensation of his fingers sliding against the sensitive walls of my core set my skin ablaze, yet I couldn't get enough. I've always hated when a man touched me, but why does my body betray me when it comes to him?
What makes him so special? Is it the love he once had for me? Or is it the fact that he's become my only salvation in this godforsaken world? But does it even matter? It's a tale of love, hate, and revenge. Whether love wins or hate does, it doesn't matter, because all I want is my revenge.
Episode 1: If I were to tell the joke that's stood the test of centuries, it'd be the one and only...
Love!!!
Yeah, I'm talking about those jittery butterflies in your belly doing the cha-cha like it's spring break in there, eyes locked on their face like they're the last chocolate chip cookie in the jar, heart pounding like it's trying to escape your chest, and you doing all sorts of wacky things – like ditching that sweet gig in Paris and hauling ass through the airport like your butt's on fire just to win them back. Let me tell you, all these feelings are nothing but a big ol' scam, like pyramid scheme-level scam.
Now, before you happily-ever-after believers start throwing fairy dust at me, hear me out. I might sound like the president of the anti-love club right now, but sweetie, I've been dealing with cheaters practically every damn day for the past 90 days.
When my friend Maeve and I, both broke as jokes, launched 'Siren's Call,' our very own loyalty-testing agency a year ago, we never imagined we'd be drowning in cases. And, now it's my bread and butter, catching those sneaky snakes red-handed, gathering evidence so their poor suspecting partners cash in on a jackpot of karma during divorce settlement.
And, at the moment, I find myself in the company of my client number 47, Julia's husband David, who seems to have mistaken my waist for a decorative armrest. Ah, the joys of being treated like furniture. This man didn't bother to ask for my consent. Ughh, I hate it... I absolutely loathe it when they touch me. And my body isn't holding back from showing him just how much it detests his touch.
Sweat drips down my forehead, my hands tremble with nerves, my knees feel like jelly and I fear I might collapse any second, and my stupid heart twists painfully in my chest. 1... 2... 3... I silently count, reminding myself of the hundred damn reasons why I have to put up with this. But it's not doing much to help. I feel bile rise in my throat, and I have this overwhelming urge to hurl all over this guy. Gross, I know, but so are his words.
"I figured a classy dame like you would have good taste," he slurred, leaning in closer like he thought he was being suave. But all I wanted to do was smack him upside the head.
"Well, my taste buds are alright, but when it comes to men, they've got a history of bad choices" I gritted my teeth, struggling to keep my cool.
"Let me guess, your heart's been shattered, huh? Man, who in their right mind would break the heart of someone as stunning as you? I swear on my mom's lasagna, if you were into me, I'd get my eyes laminated. So that, I wouldn't even think about checking out anyone else but you," He licked his lips, his gaze descending to my breasts, as if he's suddenly forgotten the art of subtlety.
"Aww, you're so loyal, just like my neighbor's dog, Jimmy," I cooed, feeling sick as his hands started wandering. 'It's all for Maeve's sake.' I chanted in my head again and again, praying, hoping my fear just doesn't win.
"Bet Jimmy's a real cutie, just like me," he tilted his head, poking his fingers in his chubby cheeks, trying to look adorable. "Kill him, his wife will thank you later," And now my inner voice was beyond over this guy.
"Mhmm, you two could practically pass for twins. He barks too much, just like you" I quipped, unable to hold back any longer as my patience wore thin.
Alright, maybe that's not the textbook way to flirt, and more likely make any boy run away. But, I'm telling you, I'm a freaking expert at flirting game. Check out my track record – I've charmed 46 men out there. But for some reason, this dude's really getting under my skin.
"Hahaha, a babe with a sense of humor, deadly combo, I swear." And ladies and gentlemen, we have a contender here who clearly left his self-respect at home, all in the hopes of scoring tonight – either that or it never made it into his wardrobe to begin with!
"You know, I've got some tricks up my sleeve too. How about we bounce to my place, and I'll show you what I've got? I bet you'll be impressed..." His spiel got cut off by his wife's ear-splitting voice, which unfortunately blasts painfully loud through my cheap Bluetooth earpiece lodged in my other ear.
"Ha, is this guy seriously trying to flex his skills? What skills does he even have, airing out the same dirty skivvies for a month? This freeloader's been mooching off me for a decade, and now he's out there two-timing me. You know what, Dalia? Just break it..."
"Break what? His eggs?" My bestie Maeve chimed in. This girl just loves violence I swear.
"Eggs... his noggin, break whatever needs breaking. Personally, I vote we send him packing. We'll stash this motherfucker in the backyard cemetery; nobody will bat an eye if one more schmuck vanishes." Mrs. 47's fury practically singed my ears.
"Yeah, but if the cops catch wind, we're toast, right, girl? We're only on the hunt for proof of your heartbreak, not to bust your hubby's skull." Maeve and Mrs. 47 are both lurking outside, tasked with keeping an eye on us, but it seems they missed the memo on stealth.
"Excuse me? What did you think? My place..."The man raised his voice, clearly annoyed by the fact that I've just ignored his proposal. And at this point, to be honest, I just want to get it over with.
"Sure, let's roll." I could still hear Maeve and Mrs. 47 squabbling, but I'm too wiped to care. So I tagged along quietly, praying I get the dirt I need ASAP, so I could crawl back into bed with a wad of cash and maybe hopefully with the last remaining threads of sanity
*****************************
The car ride with this idiot has been nothing but pure torture. He's been trying to grope my legs, hands, waist, hairs – heck, he even made a play for my toes – don't ask me how, trust me, you don't want the gory details.
I swear, I was so close to jumping out of the window – not because of his pervy touching habits, but because of his awful flirting skills. Someone needs to sit this guy down and give him the lowdown: to pull off a "baby girl," you've gotta be either Massimo-level hot daddy or Christian Grey-grade charmer, and sadly, he's rocking neither the Italian stallion vibe nor the billionaire allure. He's more like the guy who brings store-bought cookies to a bake-off – well-meaning, but totally missing the mark. But the good thing is, we've finally made it to his lavish two-story house.
And when I say lavish I so damn mean it, this blue white building is a perfect blend of modern chic and classic. The front yard is so vast, you might need a GPS just to navigate your way to the front door. The façade screams "I've made it" with its grandiose columns and a front porch spacious enough to host a block party. And this... meticulously manicured lawn – damn it's so green! is this even possible? I'm sure as hell it's Photoshopped.
But all those good vibes flew out of my brain the moment we neared the front door and it freaking swung open in our faces... by itself, and there was pitch darkness in the house.
Mrs. 47, aka Julia, made sure that none of the staff was at home when we came here. She's with Maeve a few blocks away, waiting for us to go inside, so how the heck did the door just magically open? Mr. Clueless over here must be as lost as me, by the way he's standing there staring into the abyss.
I had a bad feeling about this dude, an even worse feeling about this house, and the absolute worst feeling about this whole damn night.
"No one... should be home at this hour. So why the heck is this door...?" He gulped nervously. So, now he's sweating bullets about getting busted?
"You sure this place isn't haunted?" My serious tone freaked even myself out.
"N-No... I mean, the only ghost I've seen in this house is my wif... wi... widow sister." His words came out slower than a whisper, as he took a few steps back.
"Why don't we go inside and check? I'm sure your widowed sister won't mind me crashing your crib." With a flick of my finger, I motioned for him to follow as I strutted confidently inside. I've seen this kinda stuff go down in horror flicks a million times. It's very first warning from the demons hiding out in the house. And even though I'm pretty sure I'm way smarter than those clueless teens who bite the dust first in horror movies, because they gotta know what the ghost looks like, when it comes to curiosity, I'm just as dumb as 'em.
☠️⚠️Warning: First things first, do not, I repeat, do not enter a strange house with an unknown strange man, kiddo. He could turn you into tomorrow's newspaper headline. Secondly, when you see a door open by itself, pray to God, Buddha, almighty, and burn that darn house down before the ghost catches up to you.☠️⚠️
Back to the story... the house was painfully silent; the only sounds were the 'tick-tock' of some ancient million-dollar antique grandpa clock and the 'clip-clop' of my borrowed, worn-out dollar store heels. Not a soul, ghost, or even a hint of a breeze in sight... until the silence was shattered by a loud, over-the-top laugh. Whoever's trying to be a monster needs acting lessons ASAP.
"Who- Who are you?" Mr. 47, shaking like a leaf beside me, yelled out with whatever ounce of bravery he had left.
"Me? You're asking who I am? I'm your sweet-sweet death, loser. Hahahaha!" That darn fake laugh again. Whoever they are, they really need to stop now.
"I'm your sweet-sweet death, loser! Hahahaha!" The mystery voice cackled again. I swear, they either forgot their lines or missed the memo about subtlet. Their silhouette is now slightly visible in the darkness; they're standing on the head stairs, descending one step with each passing minute. And guess what they did next? Yep, you guessed it right: that man screamed 'I'm your sweet-sweet death' one freaking time again.
"Alright, Mister Mystery, zip it. If you belt out those cringe-worthy lines one more time, I'm gonna hit you where it hurts – real bad." I shot him a warning glance, trying to keep my cool. And surprisingly, he actually listened.
He didn't repeat those god-awful words, but this time, he screamed at the top of his lungs "You worthless, good-for-nothing Jojo! I trusted you with one simple task and you botched it up royally. Congratulations, asshole, you've single-handedly sabotaged my grand entrance. Didn't I specifically instructed you to flick the switch the moment I dropped my killer line, didn't I?"
And just like that, the lights flooded the house. For a second, I was blinded; it was so darn bright. But once my eyes adjusted, I wish I hadn't seen what was in front of me. In all my 27 years, I've never been scared, but in that moment, I screamed like a banshee.
"Holy shit! whoever's on the clock right now – God, Buddha, or even the intern – I'm officially calling in that favor. Save me!"

Dating sucks! Haha!
I (43F) went out with a Hinge date (50M) yesterday (Sunday). Casual, daytime beers. No biggie. We had matched, chatted a bit, and scheduled the date last Tuesday. I almost cancelled because we didn’t really interact that much in the interim and as we got closer I just wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t feel like putting in the effort getting ready for a date who didn’t even say hi in five days. But, he confirmed the day prior so I decided to go along with it. Laughably big mistake.
Here’s why:
1) He rolled up 10 minutes late in a wrinkly white T-shirt smelling like stale cigarettes. He had been napping and almost forgot. He didn’t even introduce himself.
2) He dominated the conversation with these tidbits:
—He expects his partner to pick up extra jobs doing Door Dash or Uber if her primary job doesn’t make the same amount as his.
—He told me all about his best friend/roommate of two decades who is soon moving to Puerto Rico because the dumbass thinks he can evade over $1M in back taxes he hasn’t paid. He’s been living off the grid for twenty years to avoid filing taxes and thinks Puerto Rico has some sort of amnesty.
—Within an hour, he’s discussing us cuddling on the couch watching movies (after having great sex) with his dog. Who is apparently “looking for a new mommy.”
—He told me about, not only his exes, but all of the previous hookups, threesomes, anal sex, and kinks he’s had.
—Of course, sex is very important to him. He assured me he’s been told he has a very nice c*ck.
3) He started calling me baby.
4) He crushed six beers in the time we were there (four more than me) and yet we still split the bill straight down the middle. Less the 70¢ I didn’t have on me. [I would’ve left much earlier but we had to wait forever for this damn bill!!]
TW! Sensitive! 5) He walked me to my car (mainly because it was two down from his) where he managed to position himself blocking the driver’s side door so I couldn’t get in. Then he proceeded to slobber all over my face with his while groping all over my body.
I didn’t have time to react straight away and feel really violated, actually. I did manage to tell him he was too handsy, and he stopped for a minute.
6) TW! Sensitive! When I pulled back he accused me of not liking kissing and tried to force my hand to touch his erect penis through his pants. I said no and he just shrugged “I guess I’ll just go home and masturbate.” Mind you, this is 4pm in the afternoon on a really busy street with loads of pedestrians. Just showing his audacity. Obviously, I managed to eventually leave.
7) And, the best for last! He couldn’t cross the street because it was less than 100yds from his CURRENT, ACTIVE restraining order! Apparently his former, female, roommate, didn’t like that he showed up on the Ring camera with a gun yelling at someone out in the street! All a huge misunderstanding, of course.
So, yeah. Absolutely horrific. But this nutjob honestly thought there was a future here simply because we both like Pink Floyd. He was very offended when I sent him a courteous rejection text.
I’m off dating for a while, truthfully. Especially after this one. Going to spend time surrounded by amazing women and work on myself. Just putting this out there to show that being single is desirable!

To clarify, this dream was out of my control however I had conscious of myself only. I was able to move and talk in full control and the dream felt like 6-8 hours though it was 2. Scariest shit I have ever experienced whilst dreaming. I had a lucid dream that began quite nice and quickly abrupted into havoc. There was an old lady faintly similar to this woman from Shameless. Originally I was treated kindly by her and she was some sort of waitress or server at this restaurant me and a few mates were at (none of this was even close to reality) and she stopped me on our way out. The woman pinned me against the wall and began hugging me very sensually, groping my back and rubbing my sides. I got her off me and began leaving to go to the car as my SO came to me and asked if anything was going on or something being wrong. The lady came back and tried to begin touching me again so I, no joke, grabbed her arm and slung her into a car. She violently slammed into the car and planted head first on the ground, I felt like I had blood on my hands. I continued leaving and she approached me in a lobby of some sort. She, again, pressed me against a wall and began hugging on me and harassing me. Everytime she would get close to me or touch me she would be smiling like she was in love with me or something saying "It's ok!" In a comforting voice. The nightmare has left me restless and super paranoid. She's engraved in my mind and im worried if I sleep again she will come back. If the dream reoccurs I will update..
I spoke to my partner and she told me she has had the same woman and apparently others she know have aswell in the past month or so. This woman was super polite however there was some kind of evil to her. Her look in my eyes and the way she smiled was something out of a movie. Anyone else had a similar dream recently???

At this point I wonder if I should change the title to "The Kendall Chronicles" 🤣
Hello everyone, it's been about two months since I kicked my now ex friend, Kendall out of my home. For those who has read my story before, just wanna let you guys know doggo and I are well fed and happy.
If you guys remember last time, Anne, one of my friends who sided with Kendall, told me about all the horrible things that has happened while having Kendall as a roommate. Ho boy, Anne had to call the cops to evict Kendall.
I happen to meet Anne at a pet friendly cafe to enjoy a good book yesterday while my doggo gets to enjoy playing at the doggy daycare-ish kinda area. I did wonder if it was intentional on her side since all my friends know I love this cafe in particular. Anne greeted me and asked if she could sit and have a chat with me. We started out with some small talk but the moment she brought up about her evicting Kendall, I just sat there and listened.
I gave Anne a smile and prodded her lightly with a comment I borrowed from the previous comment on reddit, "Oh, so you're gonna really kick her out then? I remember someone last told me it was cruel to kick a friend out of their homes." Anne stuttered for awhile before saying how I should have made a post to counteclarify Kendall's social media claims about me. I simply told her neither have I the energy to do so nor I have the need to. Which in turn, landed us in some brief awkward silence before I asked what she needed from me. Anne told me she wanted someone to vent to about Kendall and didn't know who to turn to.
Anne told me she filed a police report against Kendall; for theft and destruction of property, and ultimately Anne needed the assistance of police officers to evict Kendall from her home. She is also in the midst of filing a restraining order as she mentioned Kendall looked completely psycho at that moment. Unlike me, Anne lives in landed property so I guess she'd be a lot more worried about Kendall coming back to find her.
Kendall apparently stole Anne's debit card and spent a whopping 2k$ in total. Anne only found out about the missing money when she found her debit card missing from her wallet. She checked the bank statements only to find that 2k$ went to clothes, expensive meals and clubbing activities. At this point, one might ask, how did Anne know it was Kendall that spent that money? Well, the answer presented itself when Kendall came home screaming at Anne for terminating her debit card. According to Anne, Kendall was shouting every insult in the book while flailing her arms around with Anne's debit card in hand which Kendall proceeded with slamming the card on the table before storming off into her room.
That was the first time Anne felt afraid of another person much less a friend. Since then, Kendall made Anne's life hell on earth. Kendall would leech off Anne's groceries, judges her choice of snacks, body shames Anne etc. Kendall also attempted to seduce Anne's boyfriend. She once kissed Anne's boyfriend, (let's call him Jason) on the cheek and giggled before running straight for her room during movie night. In another instance she groped Jason's manhood right in front of Anne but later claimed that she was drunk and thought what she touched was a couch pillow. The worst thing that Kendall did was throwing herself onto Jason and saying she has a fever and later guided Jason's hand to feel her breast in which Anne walked in at the same time Jason's hand was under Kendall's shirt. These incidents has since cause a strain between the three and Jason felt awkward to the point where he told Anne he would stop visiting her house unless Kendall moves out. Anne cried for a bit when she reached this part.
Anne then told Kendall to move out, and gave her a week to do so. Kendall then cried and ran out of the house only to come back later in the evening to lock herself in her room. Anne presumed that Kendall is packing her stuff and she decided to ignore Kendall for the time being. The next morning Anne woke up to the sound of some grunts and broken ceramics. She rushed out to her yard to see an unhinged Kendall swinging a rod against everything she could hit, a tree, flower pots, even the grass on the ground. This led Anne to immediately lock her doors and call the police fearing for her own safety. The police arrived and handled the situation swiftly and they took Kendall away. There were still a lot of screaming and shouting. Anne said she's not sure if Kendall is being locked up or has anyone who would've posted bail for her.
While I guess it was kinda nice sipping tea about Kendall but at how Anne described Kendall is behaving, I wonder if she'd actually needed professional help. I can't help but feel sad for her condition despite we have gone no contact for two months.

Hello, I feel detachment to my partner, and possibly losing attraction to them. They go on reddit sometimes so I hope they don't see this yet.
I (23nb) have been dating my partner (23nb) since December 2023 but we have been fully committed/official only since March 2024.
Here are instances they touched me with sexual intent without my full consent:

1. In June 2023, when we were still FWBs I asked them if we could lessen our sexual interactions for a day before they leave the city. They touched my butt, and my people pleasing side pleasured them back.
   I didn't mind this at first because they don't fully recall this and they mightve just misread the situation.
   
2. Early Feb 2024, saw each other after months of LDR, While watching a movie, and cuddling, they rubbed my nipple. They apologized for this, I also explained that I have experienced some form of sexual assault in the past, so even though I understand they were physically flirting with me, I don't want to be sexually touched outside the bedroom unless I asked for it , I told them they can just ask me if they want to touch my sensitive parts, they didn't do it again after this and we moved on. However, the next day, I did get a flashback to sexual trauma that i experienced from a family member, and cried during work.
   
3. Late march (?) 2024 In a mall, while sitting together they lightly placed their hand on my crotch over my pants asking me if I'm full from eating (I think?) and immediately put their hand away saying they meant to touch my stomach, they apologised. I messaged them later on for reassurance asking if it was an accident, they said it was.
   
4. April 12?? 2024, during vacation we were showering together. They teased me with a hair pull, this scared me a bit, I thought they were angry. Turns out they were trying to be sexual with me because I recently asked if we could try hair pulling in bed, but that was back in March (the hair pulling attempt in bed) and I did tell them in bed that I felt unsure about it. They apologised for this too.
   
5. May 1 2025, we had many highs and lows recently due to other reasons so it was nice to go on a date again, a karaoke date. During this they held my butt, when I pointed it out they apologised and put their hand away, saying it was meant to be placed on my hip/leg. We carried on with our date feeling happy.
   

A day after #5 I confronted them thru chat, asking if it really an accident, I also reminded them of #3 and #4. They said they were thinking about these too, and said none were an accident, and they simply acted upon their urges. Still apologetic, they shown awareness of how bad it is for them to still do all that despite my clear boundary.
Otherwise, they're very respectful of my consent when it comes to the bedroom, always asking me if something is okay, asking me if something hurts, immediately stopping when I want them to stop. I'm just confused why they can't do that outside the bedroom sometimes. And otherwise they have been an incredibly honest partner, so I feel turned off knowing they lied to me.
Recently we had a video call to talk about this. They opened up to me about how they've been doing some research, they might be hypersexual, which started ever since they lost their virginity, and learned to masturbate (they are a late bloomer for the latter).
At home they'd often seek sexual content to watch or listen to when they feel lonely/bored, even during work, it used to be everyday too. Hypersexuality is all they could think of as to why they have a hard time controlling urges lately, as a reason but not as an excuse tho.
They don't feel like they completely understand themself right now. I'm their first partner, they hadn't groped anyone else nonconsensually outside this.
We were thinking of ways on how to prevent or stop the nonconsensual touching. They were thinking that maybe we'll try sitting across each other for a while, instead of next to each other. And because they have a hard time verbally communicating sometimes, their sister adviced them that they could give me a nonverbal cue if they feel any urges, by poking my upper arm, just so I know what's going on, and so I can verbally directly give a No. They will also lessen their time for porn and masturbation.
They confessed that the noncon touching was a mixture of sexual intent, and wanting to show affection. They admitted feeling afraid to admit their own mistakes, which explains the lying. They feel guilty about this, they cried alone after realising what they did, when I asked what thoughts went in their head after learning what they did, they had thoughts about wanting to cut their hand off. I told them if it happens a few more times again I will breakup.
Right now I feel lost, I opened up about being touched inappropriately before by other people, and now they did something a bit similar to me. ("a bit" because the others were more forceful and one of these people did not take accountability)
My partner deceived me in some way telling me it was all an accident, then telling me truthfully that it wasn't. To cope, I remind myself at the very least they expressed wanting to make changes and that they seeked advice from family, and that they did their own research.
A part of me wants to break up, but also doesn't. I feel scared that I won't be able to trust them anymore. I have kinks I've always wanted to try with them that involve a lot of strict trust and consent but i don't know anymore if I can still do it with them. But I also know that if they cry about something it means they won't do it anymore. But I also don't like the feeling of staying with someone knowing they violated my physical boundaries and lied about it.
Currently taking a few days long cool off for us to process things (and also 'cause I broke their emotional boundary before all this , but that's a separate issue). I removed our nicknames on messenger for my own mental health, probably bad timing because they're studying for an exam, but I can't handle seeing their petname in my phone rn.
Any advice? I know it's inappropriate behavior, but is it SA? I've been reading reddit threads about people being SA'd by their partner and I'm so confused as by definition nonconsensual touching is SA, but I can't seem to see it as that, and I can't find anyone with the same experience.
I want to go through couple counseling but we can't afford that rn

Obviously arguing logic has limited effects when trying to advocate for Men's Rights. The opposition is too locked in their message and that does not allow much self reflection to consider our arguments.
But a new tactic of flipping a mirror to the more outrageous expectations on modern men has seemed to make an actual dent. At least the opposing view is paying a LOT of attention to the messaging.
I speak of course of the Drizzle Drizzle response to the Sprinkle Sprinkle trend.
I think we could apply this to the Male Gaze trope. Give a me shot here.
Its time to start complaining about culture appealing to the female gaze. It is time for less attractive men and more clothes on them in our media.
Why would I point to this? I think if you aren't familiar with the recent controversies for the video games Steller Blade and Star Wars Outlaws, ten minutes on YouTube will explain it better than this post. The main thrust of my argument is that the Male Gaze is again in people's targets and industries are shifting based on this bias.
Time to flip the mirror. It's time to make the Male Gaze as ironic and hypocritical as possible. A little over the top. Match the energy of the people screaming about the Male Gaze.
Examples:

Thor, Love and Thunder

In the scene with the confrontation with Zeus, they chain the very attractive man (unrealistic body expectations) against his will (enslavement) in public (humiliation) and strip him naked in front of the crowd (SA and dehumanizing). Chris Hemsworth is very attractive and hardly an example of a 'real' man. This is obviously a blatant appeal to the Female Gaze at the expense of dehumanizing men in the eyes of female oppressors and normalizing the ideas of enslaving and SAing men.
This encourages women to believe they are entitled to seeing men held against their will and on display for women to leer at with their perverse Female Gaze.

Magic Mike

A group of unrealistic outstanding physical specimens forced to prostitute themselves to the Female Gaze to make ends meet. These caricatures of real men that exist only because they use steroids and workout 4 to 6 hours a day.
No real man has the time (4 to 6 hours daily) or the resources (steroids, doctors, trainers) to meet this impossible standard that is portrayed as realistic to satisfy dangerously perverse women who get off on focusing their Female Gaze on men pushed into prostitution (human trafficking).
Then these men must dance and perform humiliating acts for their oppressors. These men are forced to slowly reveal their bodies in public for no other reason than to satisfy the lustful Female Gaze. These are sexually groped and are sexually victimized by female patrons into prostitution afterward by women who 'want what they paid for'!
Exploitation. Unrealistic standards. SA. Etc.
Men will die because of this movie.
Think it might work? I am going to have fun trying it.

The four of us arrive at the fairgrounds via portal-a-potty from the Veil. The carnival is dark and quiet. All the string lights are off and the toy-filled game booths locked shut. The sky is clouded over, hiding the stars. To the East, it’s turning from black to deep blue and purple, the sun is probably moments away from peeking over the horizon.
Dumah holds the latrine door for me, my dirt-based magic copy, and Meredith in Mr. Gin’s body. He doesn’t say a word, and even though he has no face --just a slightly yellowing skull-- he gives off this heavy sadness that I can’t quite put into words. Meredith places a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t acknowledge it.
We walk in silence through the carnival. Occasionally I spot movement out of the corner of my eye. It’s other people. They pass us without noticing. A heavy-set man in suspenders and big, rubber boots, his arms gripping an awkward-looking box with labels I can’t read. With him are a thin man with a funny, little hat that doesn’t sit right on his head and two ladies in sequined leotards, each holding a cup of steaming liquid I assume is coffee. Adults love their coffee.
Eventually, we reach Madame Gwendolyn’s trailer. There’s a light on inside and the door is shut against the chilly night air. The poster of Felix and Joey has been torn off but the tape remains, each still dutifully holding one of the four corner pieces.
Dumah brushes past us, moving to the front, then turns to look down at me with his empty sockets.
“You can speak.”
I feel the weight lift from inside my throat. Other Lily gives a clearing cough. Meredith practices like she forgot how talking works, making little “me me me me” sounds. She nods Mr. Gin’s head in acknowledgment that her voice is back. This causes it to fall off his neck with a gross, peeling sound and land in the grass with a thump.
“Oh!” she says with a hint of embarrassment. She pivots Mr. Gin’s headless body toward the ground and starts feeling around in the grass while whatever section of her is still inside his head maneuvers his eyes in their sockets to watch. I try to imagine what it must be like to try to control your hands to find your own head when you’re watching from an entirely different angle.
Dumah also watches Meredith blindly groping the ground. “I need to stitch the head back on that body.”
“Yes, please!” says Meredith as Mr. Gin’s hands finally find his face. Watching her ghost move Mr. Gin’s mouth and make it talk gets me thinking... how is she doing that? There’s things called vocal cords that are in a person’s neck that need to be connected in order to make mouth sounds, and I’m pretty sure Mr. Gin’s vocal cords got shredded like parmesan cheese on a delicious pile of spaghetti.
Damn, I’m hungry.
Meredith stands up and holds still while Dumah does his hand magic and welds the head back onto the unappetizing, bloody stump at the top of the neck. When he’s done, you can see that the flesh didn’t go back together quite right, not after two times getting ripped apart, and there’s a funny ring of jagged lumps right above Mr. Gin’s collar bone.
“Did it hurt?” I ask Meredith as she feels the results with his fingers.
“I can’t feel anything.”
“You’re lucky,” I tell her. I remember how badly it hurt when Samael had that thing mend my tummy stab wound. “I got patched up by a lady in black called a flesh-stitcher. It felt like I was burning alive.”
“The Draugr,” Dumah says sadly, “I taught them everything they know. They were meant to be caregivers, but Samael--” his voice cracks at his brother’s name, “--he took them and tossed them in the Pit. Twisted them to cooperate with those ghastly demons, sewing souls into bags of their own flesh and such. I... I never understood the rationale behind it.”
Meredith swallows loudly. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound like fun.”
Dumah seems oblivious to Meredith’s discomfort. He stares into the distance as the first glimmer of sunlight breaches the horizon. His voice becomes a whisper. “It’s not the worst treatment. There’s a certain chamber in one of the lower levels of the Pit that Belphegor has dedicated to boiling feces.” He snaps out of his trance and puts a bony hand on dirt Lily’s head. She looks at me in annoyed confusion. I shrug at her.
“We should get going,” I remind him, mainly trying to save us from any more grisly descriptions of how the Pit works.
Dumah opens the trailer door without knocking and ushers us into the main cabin.
Inside we find Madame Wendy and Mr. Dutch. Madame Wendy sits in a rocking chair, wrapped from head to toe in a big, checkered blanket. She looks like she’s aged another twenty years. Her eyes are closed and she’s snoring, with a bit of drool running down her chin. Mr. Dutch is pacing back and forth in a long coat like cowboys wear in cowboy movies. He’s fidgeting with something underneath it, and when he turns at our arrival, I see it’s one of those shoulder-strapped gun holsters.
“Holy shit!” Mr. Dutch says in a loud, whispered voice, “It’s you! You’re back! In the--” His voice goes up an octave as he looks at Dumah’s bony, Skeletor face. “--flesh. You came back.” He sees me and dirt Lily and his hands start to tremble, reflexively reaching for the gun tucked in his armpit. “You caught him? Samuel?”
“Samael is dead,” says Dumah. There’s grief in his voice that I’ve never heard before, not even moments ago when he was talking about his flesh-stitchers getting used for bad stuff.
Mr. Dutch’s big, hairy brow furrows as he looks at me and my dirt golem. “But there’s two of her again.”
“Yes, that’s part of why we’re here,” Dumah tells him. He turns to acknowledge the two of us standing beside him. “We’re going to get rid of one of them.”
Madame Wendy gives a loud snort that startles all of us except Dumah, but then she mumbles something groggily and continues snoring.
Mr. Dutch pets her head gently. “I gave her a sedative.”
“If you please,” Dumah says, extending his hand out to the man, “relinquish your firearm to our friend here.” He gestures to Meredith and lets his words sink in for a moment. “Before we arrived, we contacted a law enforcement associate of Miss Madwhip who is right now on his way.” His empty sockets burn in dirt Lily’s direction. “We need to give him a show, to tie up all the loose ends.”
Mr. Dutch pulls the gun out of its holster. His hand trembles as he turns it over to Meredith, who plucks it from him and holds it like it’s going to bite her.
“Now, Francis Rutherford Dutch,” Dumah looms over the man in an unthreatening way, “you once offered us your help. To what ends are you willing to go?”
“Any,” the grown man responds, cringing away from Dumah’s towering form. “Whatever you need from me. I will serve you.”
“Even if it means setting aside all earthly possessions and committing yourself, body and soul, to protecting this child?” He waves a hand at me and smacks me in the face by accident since I’m right there and this trailer is cramped with six of us in it.
Mr. Dutch hesitates. I don’t think he was prepared for the question. “What do you mean?”
“We failed, Mr. Dutch,” the angel of death says grimly, “Samael is gone but his machinations have grown fruit. Even as we stand here, unspeakable horrors that haven’t seen the light of day in millennia are loose upon this world. Every nightmare ever imagined. The universe as you knew it is gone.”
“W-w-what?” Mr. Dutch clutches his chest, digging his fingers into the fabric of his shirt. The poor man is either having a heart attack or an alien is about to burst out of his chest. Of course, the way things are now, both seem completely possible. I don’t say this though because he seems to be steadying himself with his other hand and maybe it’s not a heart attack after all, in which case I don’t want to give him one by suggesting that an alien could pop out of him for realsies.
Dumah swats me accidentally with his hand again, right across my eyes.
“Shit!” I hiss.
“Lillian must be protected. From all harm. She is needed in order to send the dream fey back. Without her, well--” he places his phalanges on my noggin like he did to my dirt golem earlier. I feel him tussling my hair. It doesn’t change the soreness in my face from being slapped twice. “--it will be a lot more difficult.”
I can see the gears turning in Mr. Dutch’s meatball. After a minute of awkward silence, he slowly kneels down in front of Dumah, bowing his head. “I-- yes, I accept this responsibility.”
Dawn’s first rays come through the curtains like a spotlight in the middle of a three-ring circus. Particles of dust dance like fairy lights around Mr. Dutch. Only Madame Wendy’s phlegm-caked snoring breaks the mood.
“Then rise, Sir Francis,” Dumah tells the kneeling man, “and prepare yourself for the journey ahead. Pack light.”
“Think Highway to Heaven,” I add, rubbing my nose, “or The Incredible Hulk.”
Mr. Dutch gives me a puzzled look as he stands back up. I don’t think he watches a lot of TV. He leans down and presses his lips gently on Madame Wendy’s sleeping forehead, then without another word, brushes past us toward the door and outside.
After he’s gone, Dumah takes the rocking chair with the sleeping fortune-teller curled up in it and scoots it around so she’s facing the wall. I don’t know what Mr. Dutch gave her but it’s certainly doing its job. The angel of death and silence turns to me and my dirt counterpart.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks both of me.
I clench my jaw “I don’t wanna go back to the foster center.” I look at dirt Lily. She seems distant, not really there. I can’t blame her. Maybe her whole life is flashing before her eyes. My eyes. Could she live a good life if we let her? “Do you?”
She finally feels my stare and glances at me. There’s something glistening in the corner of her eye, but she says nothing, just nods. Then she realizes what she just did and quickly stutters, “I mean no. I don’t either.”
“So be it.” Dumah turns his attention to Meredith who has gone from pinching the gun by its handle between thumb and forefinger to turning it over and over in his hand like some sort of puzzle box. “Meredith, once this is done, I will take you home.”
“Home?” she scrunches up Gin’s forehead. “I’m not staying with Lily and Mr. Dutch?” the realization of what this means suddenly dawns on her and panic fills the eyes her ghost is hiding behind. “No! I don’t want to go! I don’t want to be dead!”
“You’re already dead, child. I’m sorry. Remember that your family is waiting to be with you again, on the fields of light.”
Meredith drops the gun to the floor. “But this is my family!” She tramps Gin’s body over and wraps his arms around me tightly. I can feel him shaking. “I want to be here! I want to be here with you!”
I squeeze Meredith, trying to ignore the fact that I’m actually hugging Mr. Gin who earlier tried to murder me and in fact stabbed what he thought was me with a knife and made that version of me bleed out. No, this isn't him. This is Meredith. This is her in my arms. These are her arms around me. This is her body, wracked with sobs, hugging me close.
“You are with me,” I tell her. “You always will be.”
I feel added pressure to the side. My dirt golem has joined the hug. She stares at me, emotionless. I don’t say anything but she has successfully made this moment even more awkward. Kudos, me.
Meredith finally straightens up and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Snot runs out of her nose. “Always,” she whispers, looking down at the two of me, “thank you for being my friend.”
My mouth twitches in one of those half smiles for just a second. “Thank you for being mine.”
When we finally step back out of Madame Wendy’s trailer, the fairground is alive and bustling. No customers yet, just the carnival people getting everything set up for another day and night of festivities. The dew that collected on the field overnight has turned to mist and coils around everything like Dumah’s black fog only white. Speaking of which, I wonder what happened with the police being called in regard to Dumah nearly ripping a man’s tongue out of his head, or the disappearance of Felix Clay and Mr. Gin. Then I realize I don’t even know what day it is or how much time has passed. Are they missing me at the foster center? Is there one of those police APB things out on me?
Dumah takes each of us aside privately. First, he talks to Meredith. I don’t know what he tells her, and I can’t read it on the face of dead Mr. Gin. She spends most of the conversation looking at Felix’s gun that was handed back to her, but at one point she looks up at me. She can’t seem to hold eye contact though, and quickly looks down again.
When it’s Dirt Lily’s turn, she spends the conversation with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. I know what she’s thinking: that it’s not fair that she has to die. But really, she should be grateful that she got to live to begin with. I know from her perspective she’s always been alive, just as from my perspective I’ve always been the living one. I can’t imagine being told that I was only brought to life hours ago and everything I remember is someone else’s memories.
Then comes my turn.
“Lily,” says Dumah as we walk behind Madame Wendy’s trailer, “I... I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
“We pride ourselves on being so above everything, without fear. But we’re not above it. And we’re not without fear.”
“This is a terrible pep talk.”
“I’ll leave the pep talk to Paschar. I can only ruminate on the facts. The fact is, there are things in the Veil that were locked away because even in dreams they posed a danger. Now, they are here. They could be watching us as I say this.”
I look around, but we’re alone. Off in the distance, I can just make out Dirt Lily busying herself with the claw machine. She doesn’t have any quarters, so I can only imagine what she’s doing. Probably what I would be doing: pursing her lips and fidgeting with the machine’s joystick.
Dumah continues. “If I could, I would have marked Mr. Dutch as my totem bearer. Then, I could help you even from beyond the Veil. But the risk is too great, and the totem system is flawed.”
Don’t I know it.
“You find them.” Dumah points at me, then at himself. “I will reap them. I will tear this new flesh off them and scatter their essences across the void like ashes.”
“What about her?” I nod in my dirt golem’s direction. “Will it hurt when--”
“No. You won’t feel a thing.”
That’s the most I get in the way of comfort from our conversation.
It’s another half hour before Detective Guthrie finally arrives. Or maybe it’s ten minutes. I’m a real bad judge of time after so much of it spent in the Veil.
I don’t notice him at first; he’s just another shadow of a person in the fog. But I quickly realize it’s him when I notice how cautious he is in his approach. Other, regular folk, just walk by with barely a glance in my golem’s direction. But not Guthrie. His right arm is outstretched away from his body and he’s got his standard issue police pistol in his hand. Silently, he approaches the little girl fumbling with the claw machine, unaware that another set of eyes watches him from nearby in the cab of a rusty, beat-up pickup truck. My eyes. Well, mine and Mr. Dutch.
“Are you scared?” asks Mr. Dutch.
I watch the tall shadow of Detective Guthrie. “Yes. But I’m also tired of being scared all the time.”
“At least you know there’s something more.” My new guardian tries his best to give me comfort. He’s going to have a lot to learn, and it’s going to be me that has to teach it all to him. “My biggest fear has always been that when I die, there’d be nothing. You know? That’s it. End of story. But you, and this... all of this... it’s given me something I never realized I’d lost: hope.”
Off in the distance, dirt Lily turns. Guthrie must have called out to her. Or maybe she just knew. I don’t know how much of me is truly in there. Would I have turned without his voice? Would I have the strength to turn, knowing that my death was waiting for me? I feel like I would keep tugging on that joystick, trying to make the claw machine work even though I knew it’s not made of magic. What’s different about her? She is me, and yet she’s not.
Guthrie holsters his gun and opens his arms. She goes to him. I wonder what he’s saying to her. Maybe he’s giving her a lecture on running away. Maybe he’s telling her how much trouble she’s in. Maybe, just maybe, he’s telling her that it’s going to be alright. “It’s going to be okay, Lily. Let me get you home.”
I look at Mr. Dutch. His eyes are glued on the events unfolding in front of us. Personally, I don’t want to watch what happens next.
“Have you ever killed someone?” I ask.
His eyes take on that distant, faraway look where he’s not seeing Guthrie and dirt Lily anymore, he’s seeing something from his past. “Yeah, I’ve killed people.” He doesn’t elaborate. I don’t press him for more information. In my meatball, the angel radio static clears and I see everything: his tours of duty in a country called Vietnam, the flashes of faces at night with flares overhead, explosions... so many explosions, and the nights he’s woken up alone, drenched in sweat.
“Madwhip!”
Gin’s voice breaks the silence of the increasingly foggy morning. I instinctively look up at hearing someone call my name. Meredith comes out of her hiding spot between several nearby game booths. She raises the gun. My dirt golem turns to meet her fate. Guthrie hesitates, confused. I feel my heart race. Don’t do it, Guthrie, don’t try to save me.
The flash and the crack of the gun are simultaneous. I recall a vision I had earlier at the fair. I see part of it come true as the bullet shears away a section of other me’s face. I don’t see it clearly, just the dark spray of blood and other stuff. One shot, right in the head. Not bad for a ghost in the body of a twice-decapitated dead man who’s never fired a gun before.
“NO!” Guthrie shouts. He drops and rolls like a professional, drawing his gun and unloading it into Gin’s corpse. There’s a dozen loud pops as Meredith does her best to pretend it hurts. After the last shot, she drops like a sack of potatoes without a dramatic flourish like cowboys do in cowboy movies. Guthrie rushes over and kicks the gun away, then reloads his pistol and sweeps around, searching the area for anyone else. Eventually, he runs back to my body and starts cradling it in his arms.
“Oh God, somebody help!”
“Sorry, Guthrie,” I whisper, “but Lily Madwhip must die.”
Other people are already running to the scene. They crowd around the detective and the two bodies like seagulls fighting over a scrap of bread. I wish they’d move so I can see. I didn’t want to watch but now I can’t look away. No, forget that... this is morbid.
“Let’s get out of here before we’re noticed.”
Dutch turns the engine over in his pickup. The vehicle looks like a piece of shit but that much seems to be in decent shape. He backs us out slowly, quietly, with the headlights off, trying not to draw attention. Ahead of us, the dark shapes of the people melt into the fog. Goodbye, Guthrie. Goodbye, dirt Lily.
Goodbye, Meredith.
A lone shadow stands closer than the rest. He watches us go, his head concealed by his thick robe. He raises one hand before he too vanishes into the gray.
We merge onto the highway and leave Topsfield behind us. Dutch tries turning on the radio, but the antenna must be busted because the reception is terrible. Ultimately, he decides to turn it off and starts singing a song to himself about whether or not someone has ever seen rain. I sit quietly and ponder where in the world you’d have to live to have never seen rain. Even the desert sees rain. Maybe somewhere really cold like Antarctica, where all they get is snow. I wonder if Dutch knows another song called, “Do You Live in Antarctica?”
It’s an hour later and we stop at a gas station in a town called Shrewsbury. Dutch pulls a wad of dollar bills out of his back pocket and thumbs through them. After counting them to himself (there were thirty three), he looks at me with a hint of embarrassment and says, “I’ll be right back.” He gets out and walks toward the little store by the pumps.
“Sir Francis!” I call, leaning across the cab to talk to him through the open window.
He turns. “Yeah?”
“Buy three of those scratch-off lottery tickets with the little hot air balloons on them.”
He does a half double-take. That’s where you start to do a double-take but then realize the person you’re talking to can see the future and is in cahoots with angels and you should probably do what they say.
“Yes ma’am.”
He walks in, the door ringing its little bell as he opens it, leaving me to think about how many shrews have to be buried in one place before they name the entire town Shrewsbury. Twenty-five hundred dollars is a lot of money. We’ll need it to get by. For starters, I’ll need some new clothes. I’ve been wearing these for at least a couple days now. They’re peed in, and probably covered in enough criminal evidence to put me away for life.
I pop the glovebox. Inside I find the usual junk, as well as a small spiral notepad and a barely functioning ballpoint pen attached to a broken chain with the name of a bank on it. I use it to practice my new signature. Alexandra Maverick. I write it a dozen times, filling the page, while I wait for Dutch to return.

I (27F) met this guy (32M) on a dating app recently… and I felt like I manifested him.
He was so intentional and caring in his pursuit of me. Super attractive. Smart and spiritual. And he checked off a lot of my other boxes.
We had our first date about a week after connecting, and it was great. We spent like 3 hours talking and getting to know each other. During that time, I learned that we had been in similar professional circles and knew a handful of the same people — despite never meeting. I also learned that he didn’t drink.
Before I left, he asked if we could set up our next date. So we did … and even though he didn’t kiss me, he verbalized after the fact that he was attracted to me and that when it came to physical intimacy — he wouldn’t do anything until I gave him persmission.
The next day, we’re talking on the phone like lovebirds — and he ends up asking me out again for an impromptu casual hang (think ice cream or coffee) the following day. Normally, I wouldn’t see someone so soon after connecting with them, but it was really cute the way he asked and I was really excited about him.
It was then that I called my guy friend who knew him and asked about him — he couldn’t really tell me much except that the guy was independently wealthy and was known for traveling and tricking off — so he advised me to take things slow and be careful.
Our second date was wonderful — it ended up being so romantic like fresh out of a movie or something. He gave me a long hug and kinda gripped my neck as he made a joke about how he’s “still not gonna kiss me”. I laughed along saying that he didn’t have permission yet but come our next date (that we had already set up) I’ll be ready.
Our third date didn’t go super perfect — I showed up an hour late despite pushing the time back multiple times. He was pretty peeved but in that moment I got to see how he handles conflict — he sat me down, we talked about it, and then he gave me a hug. It was honestly a perfect way to handle that and it made me like him more. Instead of moving forward with the plans we made, we went to a local juice bar and chatted and then we went back to his place and cuddled. As it started to get late, I asked him to spend the night, given that I had a morning obligation nearby. He agreed and we talked over boundaries — I told him he was allowed to kiss me but no sex. He asked if he was allowed to grope me or touch my booty — and I told him he could.
Later, I’m in his bed in my body suit — after taking off my make up and brushing my teeth. I could tell he liked the sight of my ass but he didn’t comment on that.
He followed a really strict bedtime routine and once we were in bed it appeared that we were just gonna go to sleep. So I jokingly asked if we were just going to go to sleep? “No smooches?”
He laughed and instructed me to lay a certain way so I could cuddle him. I did and eventually we fell asleep. I turned over after that and went to bed — I was awoken in the morning because he had asked me to change positions cuz I guess I was snoring.
He woke me up again once it got close to the time I said I needed to leave the night before. I jumped up, got dressed, gave him a hug and left. Again, no kiss — even though it’s clear he “has permission” or whatever.
And our communication hasn’t been the same since. I was trying not to think too much about it. After all, we’d only known each other for a week — and to see each other three times in one week is kind of a lot. So I figured it was natural to want space but as this second week of knowing him has gone by… I wonder if he’s decided to pull away. Earlier in the week, he was pretty responsive albeit taking a 12-24 hours to respond. At first he was apologetic and said he was busy working, but I told him I trusted that he’d respond when he had time. He told me he appreciated me understanding.
But yesterday, I told him that I missed him in a cute/playful way and got no response at all. I’m taking that to mean that he’s decided that he doesn’t want to pursue me after all. I don’t know if that’s really true because before I sent the message he had said he was on his way to large event.
Anyways the change in pattern is eating at me because I really liked him and wanted this to work out in some way. I’m not saying I thought we’d get married but I at least wanted to explore where this could go.
Idk what I did that was so wrong where we wouldn’t have a conversation. It’s bringing up a lot of insecurity and fear of rejection. Am I overthinking all of this?
If you agree that it sounds like he’s not interested in me anymore, can you provide some words of wisdom? Especially when it comes to coping? I’m journaling, praying, meditating and more but my heart hurts. And I know that’s ridiculous cuz I barely know this man.
I know it sounds so silly and insecure but I was excited about finally being excited about someone who appeared to like me back. For whatever reason, I have a pattern of dating guys who like me very much but I feel a bit more ambivalent. This felt passionate despite the lack of physical intimacy.

Hello I watched the adaptation yesterday and I’m actually so Impressed I really felt like reading the manga at times while watching it 10/10.
I just wanted to ta have the opinion of fellow City hunter fans when it comes to how much of Manga/Anime Ryô’s perverse side was portrayed in the movie.
A bit of context, I’m a french City Hunter fan and I’ve seen many people (in the french community) criticizing the fact that this side of Ryô was too mellowed out and started blaming the woke culture and saying that the character wasn’t fully respected.
For my part, I’m a big fan of the absurdity of Ryô’s perverseness in the Manga and find it hilarious but still I think it would’ve been of bad taste to tune it up to that level in a live action to the point where it even might’ve hindered the watch experience.
I think the Netflix adaptation falls not far from the sweet spot for this, do you feel the same? Or did you really want to see the guy groping women and doing more of his pervy shenanigans ?

tw: abuse, and this is so so long, and im on mobile so excuse anything messed up, my mind is a jumble of thoughts right now.
for a short backstory and tldr of the last two or so years of a sitcom shitshow that’s my life, • aug 22 - inpatient for the bad thoughts for a week, made it out okay but was living a state away from all family and friends (moved for a relationship and it ended may 22, for clarification I ended it due to needing to figure myself out, terrible mental health issues and a bum ex, ultimately led to choosing to go inpatient) •oct 22 - visited home state bc parents were having issues, oldest child instincts kicked in and went home to help, ended up confessing to my mom my stepdad (who adopted me legally and was in all aspects my dad but had no blood or biological relation to me) had been in my words “weird with me” growing up. she pressed, i panicked because this has been my secret since i was 12. i told no one that my stepdad had laid in bed with me every morning before work and cuddled me, and then turned to groping me a little under the shirt, then under any bra i had on with his hardon in my back every time. never full penetration but, still. it wasn’t every morning and it didn’t start that bad, i pretended to be asleep every single time. that started when i was about 12 and up to this visit with my mom when i got a little too high and word vomited the confession, i had told only my two best friends on a sad drunk night and it was never brought up among us again because i wanted to push it so deep it basically wasn’t real at all.

a small interjection here, i never before this viewed my stepdad as my abuser. i got kicked out when i was 18 and went NC with my parents for quite a while but our relationship was if anything doing much better me living further away, my stepdad was somehow also always my default parent. i had more in common, we would do more together growing up like going to comic book stores or watching new scary movies and what not whereas my mom was somewhat emotionally absent and that is honestly understandable i guess. i always felt as she didn’t like me much because i guess my looks and attitude somewhat reminded her growing up of my biological dad who was insanely abusive to her and left when i was 6. anyways, interjection kinda to say, he was my favorite growing up while also abusing the everliving shit out of me in all ways, beating me, the assaulting, verbally you name it. but after i left and moved away we talked almost weekly if not more texting about movies and things we used to do growing up. stockholm syndrome maybe. idk my mom was to checked out to notice or care or interject, and my stepdad made my entire family and the adults in my life think i was the devil reincarnation, i was screaming for help looking back but, in ways the were not productive i guess. or loud enough. unfortunately this confession though was like an atom bomb in my life. i was due to go back to the state i had been living later that day, remember i was visiting my family and it was a short 4-6h drive, but was going to take my brother (6M at the time) out to lunch and ice cream at McDs before I headed home. After telling my mom she seemed off but in my deluded and mentally ill mind it would blow over ultimately i guess. tbh i don’t remember that day 110% clearly. I took my brother to McDs and we were chilling in the play place, hanging out like a 21y and 6y do ya know. I got the text “Take *brother* to gramma K (stepdads mom) before you head home, please” i just said okay and my heart dropped I knew something was up. My mom then said my stepdad was on his way, and about an hour after that first text she said “Nope stay at grammas” I said are you sure I was just about to leave and she said 

“I didn't expect him to admit this.” I just said yeah.
and my life fell apart. he went inpatient that day because he kinda went off the rails saying he didn’t mean it he was sorry that he didn’t do anything sexually and he was just cuddling and even blamed it on my younger sister dying (stillborn in 2013) and him not knowing how to deal with it. he had a knife in his hand and my mom called me. she sounded so scared and asked me to put my grandma (stepdads mom) on the phone so i did and she i guess talked my stepdad down. (also i always called him dad so im just gonna type that im feeling lazy and this is a novel) my grandpa (dads dad) then went to our house and took my dad on a drive i guess. i went back after dad was gone and my moms friends and my friends were there. there was a lot of apologizing from the adults my mom has known her whole life who thought i was the devil reincarnation, i forgive them as an adult, as a kid it was hard wanting to be heard and loved and being the subject of constant disdain. anyways that night was crazy a much of it a blur of tears and apologies. i’ve never been apologized to so much but i didn’t even know what to say to them, i didn’t deserve them in my head. i was still just shocked anyone believed me and it was as big in their heads as it was in mine. he went inpatient and CPS got involved based only on what he said in the hospital and the fact that there was still one minor in the house they had to investigate, and then the police too kept trying to get in contact with me and all that for my statement.
i unfortunately for some reason gave the investigator with the police the run around for so long simply because i wasn’t processing this right. after that night, i called my job back home and asked if i could WFH temporarily, yadda yadda they say no, i lose my amazing job that i loved. within that week i get a text from my landlord back home with a picture of my door with a five day notice to pay just over a grand in back rent. now that made no sense to me as I always paid my half with my ex and had been paying full rent since he moved out. as it turns out he hadn’t paid his portion for months and neither he nor the landlord told me that i had basically been paying on what he owed for ages. at that point i was panicking and asked if i could just move out before the five days and not have an eviction on my record, and that’s what i did. i drove from my hometown to there and back in one day. got on the road at noon saturday, drove up packed my apartment grabbed my cats and drove back and made it back to my hometown by 7am sunday. i was exhausted and my life had quite literally crumbled to an insane degree in just over a week. honestly i’m not sure how I survived that and I really just have my friends to thank for helping me keep my head up.
so i moved back officially, i stayed with my mom for about a week and then a friend for a few months. now ill be the first to admit i was a terrible roommate, i couldn’t find a job for almost two months, i was sad i never left my room and just wallowed and isolated. it wasn’t good.
•now dec 22, i had my birthday beginning of the month and then finally found a job, and also got told i had to find somewhere else to live by my friend and ending up staying in my grandparents basement for a week or two during christmas till i got my own apt, i also had a conversation with my dad that i recorded, its over an hour long and hard to listen to not gonna lie. he basically admits it all, and lots of tears were shed by me. however i was still ignoring the investigation and the calls from the investigator but he finally ended up cornering at my moms when i visited her and he happened to show up shortly after me with CPS in tow, and i kinda had to talk to them.
Now I basically sat down with the officer and CPS and told them everything I could. He recorded it on bodycam and gave me a rundown of my dads charges if i chose to press charges, which were basically Aggravated Criminal Sexual Abuse. a scary combination of words for sure. but i didn’t know what to do that day so they said, call us back with an decision on the next few weeks. that was december of 22 and i still haven’t pressed charges. i don’t know why im so scared or what im so scared of but I just. I have so many thoughts conflicting and I don’t talk about it so I just sit and bottle and bottle and do nothing.
My mom divorced him and sold their house, she lives in a nice house now with my brother and sister (20F) and dogs. But me doing nothing has given my dad a big head and he is pushing for custody and shit with my brother and trying to act big and bad because he thinks he can’t be touched because it’s been so long and I’ve done nothing. CPS and the cops said they can’t do anything without me starting that process because we were adults when it was reported. It sucks. A lot has been resting on me for so long and I’m so tired.
Anyways back to other shit.
•jan 23 i got my own apartment, cute lil place but a lot of issues truly with the landlord and building. but it was mine. no problems there for a long time it was chill, i just worked, hung with friends and pretended nothing was wrong in life. just a little later that year a building in my city collapsed and the spotlight was on the landlord there, who happened to be mine too. shortly after THAT, my building got condemned.
•aug 23 back to square one of having to find a place again, and honestly i didn’t have savings, i work a minimum wage job and was scraping by paycheck to paycheck anyways and choosing to forgo food often because i didn’t deserve it and also didn’t have money for it. i lost probably 100lbs in 6 months from just hating being alive. my amazing best friend and her wife let me stay with them until i could find a place or a couple months. that went just fine again no issues, they were amazing and it helped being around people who love me so much. back up to mar 23 i meet a guy, we have a weird sort of situation. we’re not dating, were just kinda hanging and fucking pretty often relevant later.
•dec 23 i end up moving out of my friends and kinda in with the guy, it was not really talked about but i went from visiting every other day or every day to spending the night to spending the night for a week and
now we are here in apr 24 and im still staying with him. that’s most of the backstory to where im at now. living with him (28m also) it started great it really did. and i love him absolutely i do but he isnt in the same spot and doesnt feel the same, im not sure but he lets me know enough that we aren’t dating and i expect too much from him (basically expect him to act like a bf which i dont think i do but there are some things that would be nice if he did like show interest or ask how i am or anything) but he has said in arguments before he gives me too much respect for the place i hold in his life and he “could treat me like all the other basic ass bitches i fuck with” but he doesn’t and lets me live with him. he can either be so so nice and amazing or so cold and distant. i know he talks to other girls still and is on dating apps and such but there’s not much I can do since we’re not together and he said himself “idk i just love bitches” at this point, i have wasted over a year with this guy who can’t give me even a sliver of commitment. it is what it is.
overall though, i want to move out from with him things have been so much worse lately, more arguments, more getting ignored, days without sex or being touched at all, but i can’t find anywhere to go. i’ve been denied from 9 apartments in the last 4 months. my job makes too little, and my credit isn’t great because im 23 and stupid. i’m just stuck in this house with him, i am behind on bills mainly my car, my registration is expired and my plates are suspended which caused me to get pulled over recently. i went to my first court date, and it got extended. i somehow missed the second one by no fault of anyone but myself and now im just in shutdown mode again not knowing what to do about the fact that i probably have a warrant and still can’t afford my registration and barely insurance. i’ve tried government assistance for shit and none of it has worked or i’ve gotten approved.
at the point im at i just feel like ive dug myself such a hole there is no way to get out except for this to be the natural end of shit. i resigned myself to the fact years ago this life isn’t for me and i will end it myself one day and honestly im shocked I have lasted to nearly 24 years old but i just don’t think its in the cards for me here anymore. it wont be today, maybe not tomorrow but. i dont know at this point im just rambling and rambling on about my shitty situation and no one will read to this, and if you have i’m sorry. thanks for listening.

(originally posted on JustSyncIntuit original post)
I warn you that this post will be long and in three parts. It's the transcription of an episode of serendipity that will take us, starting with Charles Lindbergh, then through Shakespeare and other points of interest, on the trail of a spirit.
TL;DR: Here's a 👁️‍🗨️ table of contents.
⚠️ This post was intended as a follow-up to Identity Crisis, which I published on Retconned on July 24, 2022. The wave of coincidences hadn't stopped with the publication of the post.
I had hoped to publish the post before August 2022, but it didn't work out as expected.
However, I persevered and took the necessary time to finish it, which ended up being 21 months! During that time, I made additional connections and the topic's content expanded.
First, I'll repost here what I already wrote in the Identity Crisis thread and then add the rest of the story:
​
^{⌄ original posts ⌄}

IDENTITY CRISIS

I would like to talk about an entertaining little experience triggered by the post: Charles Lindburg or Lindbergh? by Emilieduchatelet1706.

Doubtful ressemblance

Seeing images of Charles Lindbergh immediately came to mind a certain resemblance to Patrick McGoohan.
Charles Lindbergh vs Patrick McGoohan
Well, I readily admit that it's not obvious, and I don't even dare to defend my case, but it's the rest of the story that matters.
Patrick McGoohan, plane… immediately, there too, I had in mind the episode of Columbo, Identity Crisis (s05e03).
Patrick McGoohan plays Nelson Brenner, the killer, and Columbo discovers that he was an aviator in his life full of travels and experiences. Columbo calls him a hero, much like Charles Lindbergh.
I think it's even likely that the character of Nelson Brenner was inspired by Lindbergh.

Fun Fact

Fun fact: As I write these lines I mechanically typed on Google "charles lindbergh" hero, and on the first link I clicked on I see this.
In the image Lindbergh stands in front of his plane, the Spirit of St.Louis. The article talks about his multiple lives. The first line, which I have highlighted, says: “Who the hell was Charles Lindbergh, whose multiple avatars spanned the entire history of the 20th century?”
…and Columbo is there in the corner.
In this video that I had prepared and uploaded before starting to write my post (and therefore before coming across the article), Columbo asks Brenner if he is the one standing in front of a plane (a “T33… SilverStar”) in a photo in black and white.
And ends with “Yes I seem to remember reading about that”... I find it a bit funny in this new context.

Steinmetz

In the episode there is another shady character whose true identity remains a mystery, he's called Steinmetz.
Mechanically too, I had typed Steinmetz on Google and I came across Charles Proteus Steinmetz, American mathematician and electrical engineer. I notice that his real name is “Karl August Rudolph Steinmetz”.
August, that sounds familiar to me. I look at Charles Lindbergh's page and yes that's right, his name is "Charles Augustus Lindbergh".
-> Identity Crisis
 
These entertaining little coincidences…

TAPESTRY OF LIFE

Small personal theory

I'm beginnig to imagine a small personal theory (a small hypothesis to guide my thoughts). That of a new birth in adulthood (rather around 40 years old than 20 years old). In any case a threshold in life.
In this vision, the genetic heritage is replaced by the knowledge of life before, that is to say before the threshold, and wisdom.
The reborn person by groping their way, configures (and reconfigures), (re)connects the data of the previous life to adapt to the (true) life to come. In a better way of their formatting before in the previous matrix with its so-called genetic program and the teaching received. And it's as if there was an underlying program of knowledge and wisdom from the start that tutored their life. A better program.

Not so personal?

I'm not a Christian... but a quick quick look at Wikipedia shows that I may not be far from the concept of born again that we hear about here and there.

Jesus replied, "Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again."
"How can someone be born when they are old?" Nicodemus asked.
"Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother's womb to be born!" Jesus answered, "Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit."
— Gospel of John, John chapter 3, verses 3–5, NIV[8]

Water and Spirit

In the previous image of the article -> Spirit of St.Louis is the name of the plane, and in front of the magazine cover with Columbo there is a magazine cover where it is written: La guerre de l'eau est déclarée (Water war is declared).

ALL IN ONE

Yesterday I was watching the first video again where Columbo looks at the picture on the wall. On the same wall I see a portrait that looks familiar, it seemed to me that it was supposed to represent Shakespeare (but maybe not, maybe it's Cervantes :D).
I've heard of a theory that Shakespeare didn't exist and that in fact Francis Bacon (the philosopher) was the author of his work. I have since associated the "idea" of Shakespeare with Francis Bacon.
Well, this theory is completely in line with the subject of Steinmetz in the Columbo episode. But we see that the portrait of Bacon does not at all resemble that of Shakespeare: Shakespeare vs Francis Bacon.
But Steinmetz himself? Francis Bacon vs Charles Steinmetz.
Wonderful! Bravo. Bravo.
​
^{⌄ follow-up ⌄}
⚠️ A note about the use of the word similarity in this post:
When the word 'similarity' is used in this post, it means that the elements being compared share the same idea, but are not necessarily identical copies. For example, something that moves from right to left can be seen as different from something that moves from left to right, but at the level of idea there may be a resemblance.

THE SIMPSONS

▶ The Simpsons - Steinmetz; Very soon after posting, doing a quick search on Steinmetz I come across a scene from The Simpsons episode "Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield (s07e14)":

Homer as Steinmetz

Homer Simpson challenges Mister Burns to a game of golf. Burns as usual is mistaken about the identity of Homer Simpson. He calls him... Steinmetz!

Club sandwich

Homer says "Mmm... open-faced club sand wedge" and puts the word 'club' right before 'sand wedge'. The result is the phrase "club sandwich" (~ sand wedge). And one of the traditional ingredients in a club sandwich is bacon.

SHAKESPEARE

Interesting documentary

I don't know how I landed on the topic The Shakespeare Hole that I had already seen in the past but it was exactly the right time to remind myself of a documentary on Shakespeare that I had forgotten in a mental watch-later-list.
It is an interesting documentary, Cracking the Shakespeare Code (2017), about hidden codes in the work of Shakespeare with in particular the thesis that Sir Francis Bacon would be one of the authors. Viewable here.
This time I watched it! And... this lack of unfamiliarity... I don't remember ever watching it before but I didn't feel any sense of novelty. Hmmm...
For those interested, there are other hypotheses regarding Shakespeare's authorship.

Shakespeare the Bard

Shakespeare is known as "the Bard". The word bard, which means poet, also has other definitions, a piece of armor or ornament on a war horse and by analogy... bacon placed on game or meat before roasting.

COLUMBO

Sometimes the synchronicities come completely out of the blue, sometimes I have an intuition of where to focus my interest. Trivially I told myself that I was going to watch the episode of Columbo talking about Shakespeare, Dagger of the Mind.
In this episode several elements seem to gently taunt my flow of thoughts but it is obviously not the easiest things to explain. However I can relate a really curious series of synchronicities concerning golf and the Simpsons episode I mentioned above:

Welcome to the club

▶ Columbo in the club; Columbo while in London is invited to what I guess is called a gentlemen's club. There he makes two remarks:

• "When you said 'club', I thought you meant a country club or a health club."
  
• "When you said 'tea', I was afraid we were gonna get nothin’ but those tiny sandwiches."
  

Note the vocabulary used which, more or less subtly, refers to golf (while the episode has nothing to do with golf at all). A country club is commonly referred to simply as a golf club. And with ▶ the first video of The Simpsons freshly in mind, the words club, tea, and sandwich resonate like synchronicity. Especially with the formulation used by Columbo which adds a note of irony. Tea sounds exactly like tee, and sandwich for sand wedge.
▶ The Simpsons in the club; In the same episode of The Simpsons, the Simpson family is invited to a country club. Which echoes Columbo's words.
We will even notice that Homer and the kids remain at one entrance to the room while Marge is invited in among the other women. Which is the opposite of the Columbo video where the butler says: "Why do you think we keep the ladies out, sir?".

Pearls and balls

▶ Columbo - pearls; Note that in the scene a character throws a round white object which hits the head of another character who then lies on the ground in the middle of white pearls.
▶ The Simpsons - balls; Here a character hits a golf ball in the air which hits the head of another character who then lies on the ground before kneeling and finding himself in the middle of white balls.

Ruse

⚠️ SPOILER WARNING: Skip this one if you don't want to know how Columbo confounded the culprits just yet.
▶ Columbo - subterfuge; Without formal proof, Columbo discreetly puts a white bead in an umbrella which allows the culprits to be confounded by their reactions.
Also note these three points:

• A character who verifies that the bead is genuine: "Why, it’s the same. Exactly the same."
  
• A character who accuses another of trickery: "He put it there. Can’t you see? Before we came. He put it there!"
  
• A private discussion between two characters with the idea of keeping the subterfuge secret: "Off the record, eh?"
  

▶ The Simpsons - cheating; Smithers puts a golf ball on the green near the hole to make Mr. Burns win.
And note the same three points:

• A character who verifies that the balls are genuine: "These aren't reptile eggs."
  
• A character who accuses another of trickery: "You've been cheating. No matter where Mr. Burns hits the ball you put a fresh one on the green."
  
• A private discussion between two characters with the idea of keeping the cheating secret: "If you would keep quiet about the alleged decades of cheating I'm sure he'd support your application for membership tonight."
  

"sir" scenes

▶ The Simpsons - sir; Homer says: "For once, maybe someone will call me "sir" without adding, "you're making a scene"."
▶ Columbo - sir; A character hears himself called "sir" and arguably, he's making a scene...

BACON

When you're in a synchronistic wave, the interest isn't just the thrill of the coincidences, but also the fact that you learn about areas you weren't so interested in. And I found out more than enough about bacon. So much so that I saw references to bacon everywhere. It was no longer of interest.

Bacon overload

I wanted to move on, which was immediately comically reflected in the synchronicities as I came across these two clips of the Simpsons (from other episodes) that say it all:
▶ The Simpsons - Butter your bacon: "So, you think you know better than this family, huh? Well, as long as you're in my house, you'll do what I do and believe what I believe. So, butter your bacon!" :-)
▶ The Simpsons - The bacon man: The clip I saw at the time on the Internet only included the part where Homer takes his order. So without any mention of Shakespeare. But already the fact that Homer presents the "portrait" of the omelette and says that we could add a "bacon nose", "bacon hair", "bacon mustache", etc... that made me chuckle. It gave me the impression that they were mimicking what I was doing just before with the portraits of Shakespeare, Francis Bacon and Charles Steinmetz.
It was more than a month later while writing this post and creating the video extract that I noticed that Shakespeare was mentioned just before! "I'm getting a sweatshirt with Shakespeare's face on it!". So we have a mention of a portrait of Shakespeare followed by a "portrait of bacon".

Bacon numbers

And the Internet bombarded me with bacon number this, bacon number that... what!? This profusion of bacon has even been prophesied; they made a law about that, the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon!
I quote:

In a January 1994 interview with Premiere magazine, Kevin Bacon mentioned while discussing the film The River Wild that "he had worked with everybody in Hollywood or someone who's worked with them."
Following this, a lengthy newsgroup thread which was headed "Kevin Bacon is the Center of the Universe" appeared.

→ L.O.L.

PROTEAN SPIRIT

PROTEUS

I overlooked something about Steinmetz the first time, he's called Charles PROTEUS Steinmetz:

Steinmetz Americanized his name to Charles Steinmetz. He chose Proteus as his middle name—the nickname his professors in Germany had affectionately bestowed upon him in recognition of the shape-shifting sea god. In Greek mythology, Proteus was a cave-dwelling prophetic old man who always returned to his human form—that of a hunchback. Steinmetz thoroughly enjoyed the comparison.
src: Charles Proteus Steinmetz, the Wizard of Schenectady

Shakespeare and Proteus

It's no surprise Shakespeare and Bacon, prolific writers, talked about Proteus. On the Proteus wikipedia page there is this quote:

I can add colours to the chameleon,
Change shapes with Proteus for advantages,
And set the murderous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down.
— William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part Three, Act III, Scene ii

I wanted to know what the last line meant and a quick search led me to this Reddit post, What does Richard/Gloucester mean when he says "Tut, were it farther off, I’ll pluck it down.". This is a transcription of a scene from the film Richard III (1955).
In the video they refer to, the original monologue from the play Richard III is mixed with parts of a monologue by the same character (Richard III) from another play, Henry IV (the one in the Wikipedia quote):

[…]

And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,

[…]
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
[…]
I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall,
I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
Deceive more slyly than Ulysses could,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.

I can add colours to the chameleon,
Change shapes with Proteus for advantages,

And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
Tut! were it further off, I'll pluck it down.

Bacon and Proteus

Francis Bacon also speaks of Proteus in "De sapientia veterum, liber", translated into English in "Of the Wisdom of the Ancients". It's short and interesting to read.

XIII. Proteus Or Matter

PROTEUS, the poets tell us, was herdsman to Neptune. He was an old man and a prophet; a prophet moreover of the very first order, and indeed thrice excellent; for he knew all three,—not the future only, but likewise the past and the present; insomuch that besides his power of divination, he was the messenger and interpreter of all antiquity and all secrets. His dwelling was under an immense cave. There it was his custom every day at noon to count his flock of seals and then go to sleep. And if any one wanted his help in any matter, the only way was first to secure his hands with handcuffs, and then to bind him with chains. Whereupon he on his part, in order to get free, would turn himself into all manner of strange shapes—fire, water, wild beasts, &c., till at last he returned again to his original shape.
The sense of this fable relates, it would seem, to the secrets of nature and the conditions of matter. For under the person of Proteus, Matter—the most ancient of all things, next to God—is meant to be represented. Now matter has its habitation under the vault of heaven, as under a cave. And it may be called the servant of Neptune, inasmuch as all the operation and dispensation of matter is effected principally in liquids.
[…]
src: https://www.bartleby.com/82/13.html

Spirit and Water

Consonant values

I noticed that the consonants of P-r-o-t-e-u-s are the same as those of S-p-i-r-i-t.

Matter of fact

The sense of this fable relates, it would seem, to the secrets of nature and the conditions of matter. For under the person of Proteus, Matter—the most ancient of all things, next to God—is meant to be represented. Now matter has its habitation under the vault of heaven, as under a cave. And it may be called the servant of Neptune, inasmuch as all the operation and dispensation of matter is effected principally in liquids.

Proteus, associated with matter, emerges from the sea^*️⃣ and sleeps in a cave, changing shape in between if one tries to capture him. The example of water is notoriously the first that comes to mind when we talk about the states of matter.
^*️⃣Note that in the video ▶ The Simpsons - The bacon man there is mention of returning to the ocean ("So, here for a snack before they roll you back into the ocean?"), in context I find that line a little ironic.

Capture the Serendipity

He can foretell the future, but, in a mytheme familiar to several cultures, will change his shape to avoid doing so; he answers only to those who are capable of capturing him.
src: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proteus

At this point I reflect on how easily connections come to us when we are in this particular position of observer, whether we like it or not. This is the principle of serendipity. Very strange word which I bet many have trouble pronouncing correctly and which for me has changed during my life (Mandela Effect). By the way, I had posted about this on Retconned in the past and when looking for my post I preferred to go through Google rather than the Reddit search engine.
This is where I get suggested a movie, Serendipity (2001), but it's a romantic comedy, I'm not too into that, I'm barely interested. But my instinct tells me it's not there by chance. If I don't watch the film, I will still look into the director's filmography.
Peter Chelsom; I'm looking at the list of movies he's directed. Not very funky at first glance but there are one or two key words, one or two imagery elements that have been involved in previous synchronicities for me that kept me from abandoning this lead in a hurry. I ended up clicking on the link of the movie The Mighty (1998).

The Old Man of the Sea

A young boy suffering from a debilitating disease causing deformities rides 👁️‍🗨️ on the shoulders of another, stronger boy. The young boy lends his insight while the other boy lends his strength.
It reminds me of the story of the Old Man of the Sea:

• In The Odyssey: Book IV, Homer (the other Homer) calls Proteus the wise Old Man of the Sea.
  
• The Old Man of the Sea in the tales of Sinbad the Sailor depicts 👁️‍🗨️ an old man clinging to a man on his shoulders.
  

While writing these lines

While writing these lines from my notes (more than a month later^*️⃣) I distractedly watched the Serendipity movie trailer... and there I see a golf scene that I hadn't noticed before (probably because I had not watched the entire video). I decide to watch the film.
^*️⃣Also while writing these lines I mentally played with the word "serendipity"; seren-dipidy, seren-pididy, etc. Which inevitably reminded me of ▶ this scene from a music video where Ben Stiller struggles to find the right name for rapper Puff Daddy. The plot coincidentally revolves around a golf ball...

SERENDIPITY

The plot of the film is a story of a character who seeks the identity of another, enough to entice him to pursue serendipity. Reminds me of the content of this post.
Moreover, there are several factual elements that suggest that resemblance:

Amazing likeness

Knockoff

▶ Serendipity - Prada:

• Purchase of a product (supposedly) from a luxury fashion house brand: "Ooh! Prada!" ... "I'll take it."
  
• Discussion about a knockoff product name: "Eve, that's a horrific knockoff. At least my fake says Prada. Yours says Prado."
  
• Discussion about altering the product a bit to make it more presentable: "Yeah? Well, I say for a dollar, I can buy a little magic marker and fix that."
  

▶ The Simpsons - Chanel:

• Purchase of a product (supposedly) from a luxury fashion house brand: "Oh, it's beautiful. Can it be a real Chanel?" ... "All right, I will buy it."
  
• Discussion about knockoff product names: "Don't be a sap, Dad. These are just crappy knock-offs." | "I know a genuine Panaphonics when I see it. And look, there's Magnetbox and Sorny."
  
• Discussion about altering the product a bit to make it more presentable: "Homer, please, I have to alter this suit so it looks different for tomorrow." | "Just slap some bumper stickers on it."
  

Golf

▶ The Simpsons - golf; To put into context, we had in the episode of The Simpsons:

• A character hit in the head by a golf club.
  
• A character hit in the head by a golf ball.
  
• A multitude of white balls scattered on the green.
  

[+]

• A character acknowledging a buried feeling: "I knew my kind wasn't welcome here."

▶ Serendipity - golf; The film Serendipity uses the synchronicity of golf as an factor of serendipity. And note these points:

• A character hit in the head by a golf ball.
  
• A character hit in the head by a golf club.
  
• A multitude of white balls scattered on a green floor.
  

[+] just a tiny bit of interpretation here:

• A character saying: "I think I swallowed a filling". Which I think is to be understood in the context of the film as "I think I swallowed a feeling".

Serpent and Destiny

Furthermore, the serpent is, in my humble opinion, an underlying theme in the film. I will avoid going too deep into the interpretations and just quickly relate a few noteworthy elements:

Serpent of old

▶ Serendipity - Cool Yule; The film opens with the song "Cool Yule" by Louis Armstrong with the Commanders. With these lyrics:

♪ And you gonna flip when Old Saint Nick ♪
♪ Plays a lick on a peppermint stick ♪

Old Nick could mean the Devil, Old Serpent, etc. An interesting discussion about the adjective "Old" in Old Nick.

Another one bites the dust

▶ Serendipity - crawling; A scene where the main character, Jonathan Trager (black jacket), is crawling on the ground.

In order, garter.

▶ Serenditpy - T-r-a-g-e-r; Jonathan Trager, T-r-a-g-e-r. Trager anagram of garter. Like a garter snake. But also a vocabulary used for a bride (which is in line with the apparent theme of the film).
Reminds me of something I jotted down somewhere...
...there it is:

Notably the pendant suspended on a ribbon from around Bacon’s neck, which in earlier portraits was deliberately concealed in such a way as to suggest a secret, is in this picture shown exposed, revealing itself as the Lesser George and thereby suggesting or indicating that Bacon was a secret Knight of the Garter, or had the right to be one.
src: https://www.fbrt.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/Portraits_of_Francis_Bacon.pdf#page=6

Some infos on The Order of the Garter.

Snake Club

The presence of the word snake in Beckinsale (the name of the main actress) is obvious. But, I was interested in the consonants of the word and I saw there the term Snake Club.
I explain, we remove the vowels and: b.c.k.n.s.l → s.n.k c.l.b
I do a Google search on "snake club". I come across a page on a movie site that talks about what looks like a Z movie titled "Snake Club: Revenge of the Snake Woman". I scroll down a bit and come across 👁️‍🗨️ this poster showing Kate Beckinsale herself in the first place of movie recommendations.

IN THE QUR'AN

CLUB AND SNAKE

At the time of the synchronicities with the Simpsons episode, I was interested in the symbolism of golf. The golf club is reminiscent of a farm tool, the hoe, I kept that in mind. With the intrusion of the serpent into my serendipity, I was instead led to think about the story of the staff of Musa (Moses) in the Qur'an. Especially in Surah 20, Ta-Ha:

20:17 And what is that in your right hand, O Moses?"
20:18 He said, "It is my staff; I lean upon it, and I bring down leaves for my sheep and I have therein other uses."
20:19 [Allah] said, "Throw it down, O Moses."
20:20 So he threw it down, and thereupon it was a snake, moving swiftly.
20:21 [Allah] said, "Seize it and fear not; We will return it to its former condition.
- Translation: Sahih International ⇠ I'll keep this translation throughout the topic.
src: Qur'an 20:[17-21]

This new perspective has taken the serendipity in a interesting direction. A scene described in this same surah caught my attention; Musa and Harun confront the magicians summoned by Pharaoh:

20:61 Moses said to the magicians summoned by Pharaoh, "Woe to you! Do not invent a lie against Allah or He will exterminate you with a punishment; and he has failed who invents [such falsehood]."
20:62 So they disputed over their affair among themselves and concealed their private conversation.
20:63 They said, "Indeed, these are two magicians who want to drive you out of your land with their magic and do away with your most exemplary way.
20:64 So resolve upon your plan and then come [forward] in line. And he has succeeded today who overcomes."
20:65 They said, "O Moses, either you throw or we will be the first to throw."
20:66 He said, "Rather, you throw." And suddenly their ropes and staffs seemed to him from their magic that they were moving [like snakes].
20:67 And he sensed within himself apprehension, did Moses.
20:68 Allah said, "Fear not. Indeed, it is you who are superior.
20:69 And throw what is in your right hand; it will swallow up what they have crafted. What they have crafted is but the trick of a magician, and the magician will not succeed wherever he is."
20:70 So the magicians fell down in prostration. They said, "We have believed in the Lord of Aaron and Moses."
20:71 [Pharaoh] said, "You believed him before I gave you permission. Indeed, he is your leader who has taught you magic. So I will surely cut off your hands and your feet on opposite sides, and I will crucify you on the trunks of palm trees, and you will surely know which of us is more severe in [giving] punishment and more enduring."
20:72 They said, "Never will we prefer you over what has come to us of clear proofs and [over] He who created us. So decree whatever you are to decree. You can only decree for this worldly life.
20:73 Indeed, we have believed in our Lord that He may forgive us our sins and what you compelled us [to do] of magic. And Allah is better and more enduring."
src: Qur'an 20:[61-73]

I spotted other similarities:

Intrigue and trick

➔ Qur'an 20:[61-63]; Note this:

• A secret confabulation: 20:62 "So they disputed over their affair among themselves and concealed their private conversation."
  
• Characters implying that other characters intend to use a trick: 20:63 "They said, "Indeed, these are two magicians who want to drive you out of your land with their magic and do away with your most exemplary way."^*️⃣
  

^*️⃣The magicians repeat here the words of Pharaoh a few ayat ("verses") before: "He said, "Have you come to us to drive us out of our land with your magic, O Moses?" Qur'an 20:57.
▶ Columbo - subterfuge (spoiler!); We have already mentioned these points in ALL IN ONE > COLUMBO > Ruse:

• A character who accuses another of trickery: "He put it there. Can’t you see? Before we came. He put it there!"
  
• A private discussion between two characters with the idea of keeping the subterfuge secret: "Off the record, eh?"
  

▶ The Simpsons - cheating; Same here:

• A character who accuses another of trickery: "You've been cheating. No matter where Mr. Burns hits the ball you put a fresh one on the green."
  
• A private discussion between two characters with the idea of keeping the cheating secret: "If you would keep quiet about the alleged decades of cheating I'm sure he'd support your application for membership tonight."
  

By hook or by crook

➔ Qur'an 20:[64-73]; Note this:

• An injunction to throw a staff...: 20:69 "And throw what is in your right hand; [...]"
  
• ...that will swallow up an illusion (objects that move like snakes; see 20:66): 20:69 "[...] it will swallow up what they have crafted. What they have crafted is but the trick of a magician, and the magician will not succeed wherever he is."
  
• Characters thrown down to prostration^1️⃣: 20:70 "So the magicians fell down in prostration. They said, "We have believed in the Lord of Aaron and Moses.""
  
• Characters acknowledging a hidden feeling: 20:73 "Indeed, we have believed in our Lord that He may forgive us our sins and what you compelled us^2️⃣ [to do] of magic. And Allah is better and more enduring.""
  

^1️⃣The magicians didn't just fell down, they were thrown down: fa-ul'qiya [So were thrown down] al-saharatu [the magicians] sujjadan [prostrating].Note that this is the same verb, in the passive form, as in the previous ayah in which Musa was asked to throw down his staff: wa-alqi [And throw] ma [what] fi [in] yaminika [your right hand]. This emphasizes the correlation between the two events.
^2️⃣The Arabic word "akrahtana" translated as "you compelled us" carries a notion of aversion. That is to say, to be compelled to something that generates aversion. Here the magicians finally admit their true feelings towards Pharaoh's orders.
▶ The Simpsons - golf; Notice the similarities:

• A character throws a golf club...
  
• ...which hits another character who then falls face down.
  
• The latter acknowledges a buried feeling: "I knew my kind wasn't welcome here."
  

▶ The Simpsons - cheating; ~ Swallowing fake snakes:
The club-thrower character puts a whole golf ball in his mouth, chews it, and proves that "these aren't reptile eggs".
▶ Serendipity - golf; Note the same similarities here:

• A character is hit by a golf club and then falls face down.
  
• The same character who says: "I think I swallowed a filling". Which I think is to be understood in the context of the film as "I think I swallowed a feeling"^*️⃣.
  

^*️⃣Note also the use of the verb "to swallow".

Destiny and Serpent

Divine measure

In Surah Ta-Ha Allah commands Musa to meet Pharaoh, reminding him of the divine interventions in the key stages of his existence on Earth:

20:36 [Allah] said, "You have been granted your request, O Moses.
20:37 And We had already conferred favor upon you another time,
20:38 When We inspired to your mother what We inspired,
20:39 [Saying], 'Cast him into the chest and cast it into the river, and the river will throw it onto the bank; there will take him an enemy to Me and an enemy to him.' And I bestowed upon you love from Me that you would be brought up under My eye.
20:40 [And We favored you] when your sister went and said, 'Shall I direct you to someone who will be responsible for him?' So We restored you to your mother that she might be content and not grieve. And you killed someone, but We saved you from retaliation and tried you with a [severe] trial. And you remained [some] years among the people of Madyan. Then you came [here] at the decreed time, O Moses.
20:41 And I produced you for Myself.
20:42 Go, you and your brother, with My signs and do not slacken in My remembrance.
20:43 Go, both of you, to Pharaoh. Indeed, he has transgressed.
src: Qur'an 20:[36-43]

All of these life events brought Musa to the ad hoc place and time: 20:40 "[...] Then you came [here] at the decreed time, O Moses.".

Tamed serpent

A sinuous life course alternating between threat and benevolence though not turning away from fate. Symbolized from the outset by the abandonment of the baby on the river, a river that snakes its way to destination. And marked at the appointed moment by the transformation of the staff into a serpent before it is returned to its former condition.
End of part 1/3.
The continuation is in On the trail of a spirit (2/3) →