I have been a plus subscriber since it was released in my area(Fort Lauderdale, Florida). Since then I have received access to all the features and even some early release features and truly enjoy seeing/using the newest features as they’re released.
Well, I have still yet to receive the memory roll out from April. There haven’t been any billing issues or anything like that either. My partner lives with me and she received access the day of release. I reached out to openAI support back on 5/2, I did get a response and have been going back and forth with a customer service agent. The last update was on 5/8 and that was to escalate the problem to a “specialist team”.
Has anyone else not received access that lives in an area where memory is available? The funny part is I received the 4o update. Still no memory. Does it make sense to create a new account and start a new subscription?
TL;DR: I’m a ChatGPT plus user that lives in the US and still doesn’t have access to memory. Looking to see if anyone else is in the same boat or has received help from OpenAI support to troubleshoot their access to memory.

So I have an S Corp. I never owe any money when I file my S Corp tax return. I know they are due by March 15. So I went to the post office on March 11 and sent an extension and have proof that my envelope was post marked March 11 which matches the certified mail receipt. I got a letter today that the IRS rejected my extension because my extension envelope was post marked March 18 and they only received it on March 26! Huh???!!! How do they send me an official letter when I sent it via post office certified mail return receipt. May they didn’t receive it until March 18 but I clearly sent it in March 11. Do I just reply to the letter and send a copy of the post office receipt? They have already sent me a bill for $250 for failure to file. I ended up filing on March 20. I’m really annoyed and upset. Please calm me down.

The origins of this list came about when the Denver Nuggets won the NBA chip last year. I asked my bball group chat if winning the NBA chip made Jamal the best NBA player named Jamal/Jamaal. I then made this list:
Jamal Murray Jamal Crawford Jamal Mashburn Jamaal Magloire Jamaal Tinsley
After some research we learned about Jamaal Wilkes and then we made Tinsley an honorable mention.
With the NBA playoffs coming, I thought I tried to do something similar but on a much larger scale and share it with the NBA subreddit community.
I'm not sure if such a list has been done before. If it has, please send me the link to it so I can read it.
Also this is how I came up with the list. The list is not in any specific order per letter. Its more like the first name for each letter is the first name I thought of. Whenever I have trouble finishing up the list, I go to Google and basketball reference. I indicate when I do so.
The list is done by first name and not last. So for example, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar will fall under K and not A. The other thing is players will be listed by their actual given name and not nicknames. For example, magic Johnson will be under I for Earvin "magic" Johnson.
Please let me know what you think about the list and let me know what players you feel I missed. Also let me know which letter has the best NBA players. EDIT: I added Joel Embiid, Anthony Edwards and William "Bill" Russell on this list because they shamefully slipped my mind last time.
A:

Alex English
Allen Iverson
Anthony Davis
Adrian Dantley
Andre Iguodala
Amar'e Stoudemire
Alonzo Mourning
Anfernee "Penny" Hardaway
Artis Gilmore
Allan Houston

Honorable mentions: Aaron Gordon Arron Afflalo Al Jefferson Antoine Walker Andre Miller Antawn Jamison Al Horford, Anthony Edwards
B:

Baron Davis
Bernard King
Bradley Beal
Ben Wallace
Ben Gordon
Blake Griffin
Brook Lopez
Brad Daugherty
Brad Miller
Bam Adebayo

Honorable mentions Buddy Hield Byron Scott Bonzi Wells Ben Simmons
C:

Chris Paul
Charles Barkley
Clyde Drexler
Chris Webber
Carmelo Anthony
Chauncey Billups
Chris Bosh
Chris Mullin
Christian Laettner
Carlos Boozer

Honorable mentions
C.J. McCollum Cedric Maxwell Chris Kaman Corey Maggette Cuttino Mobley
D:

Dirk Nowitzki
David Robinson
Dwyane Wade
Dwight Howard
Damian Lillard
Draymond Green
Dikembe Mutombo
Dominique Wilkins
Dennis Rodman
Derrick Rose

Honorable mentions
DeAndre Jordan Domantas Sabonis Demar DeRozan DeMarcus Cousins
E:

Elgin Baylor
Elton Brand
Elvin Hayes
Eddie Jones
Emanuel David "Manu" Ginóbili
Eric Gordon
Evan Turner
Eric Bledsoe
Earvin "Magic" Johnson
Eddie Johnson

Honorable mention Enes Kanter Emeka Okafor Evan Mobley
F: (I had to use basketball reference for the majority of these)

Furkan Korkmaz
Fred Brown
Frederick "Freddie" L. Lewis
Franz Wagner
Francis "Frank" Stanley Kaminsky III
Francisco García
Fredderick Edmund "Fred" VanVleet
Frank Vernon Ramsey Jr
Franklin Delano Selvy
Fred Hoiberg

G:

Giannis Antetokounmpo
Gary Payton
George Gervin
Grant Hill
Gail Charles Goodrich Jr
George Mikan
Glen Rice
Gilbert Arenas
Glenn Robinson
Goran Dragic

Honorable mention Gerald Wallace Gordon Hayward Gordan Giriček
H: (had to use basketball reference for #9&10)

Hakeem Olajuwon
Harold Everett "Hal" Greer
Hersey Hawkins
Hubert Davis
Horace Grant
Harrison Barnes
Hassan Whiteside
Hedo Türkoğlu
Harthorne Wingo
Hamidou Diallo

I: (had to use basketball reference for #6-7)

Isiah Thomas
Isaiah Thomas
Ish Smith
Iman Shumpert
Immanuel Quickley
Isaiah Rider
Isaac Okoro
Ime Udoka
Isaiah Stewart
Isaiah Hartenstein

J:

Jason Kidd
Julius Erving
John havlicek
Jerry West
Jimmy Harden
James Worthy
Jayson Tatum
John Stockton
Jimmy Butler
Joel Embiid

Honorable mention Jamal Crawford Jamal Mashburn Jack Sigma Jason Terry Joe Johnson Jerry stackhouse Jamal Murray Joe Dumar John "hot rod" Williams Joakim Noah, Jermaine O'Neal
K:

Kareem Abdul Jabbar
Kobe Bryant
Kevin Durant
Kyrie Irving
Klay Thompson
Kevin Garnett
Kevin Love
Kahwi Leonard
Kevin McHale
Karl Malone

Honorable mention Kevin Love Karl Anthony Towns Kevin Johnson Kemba Walker Chris Middleton
L:

LeBron James
Larry Bird
LaMarcus Aldridge
Lou Williams
Lafayette "Fat" Lever
Luol Deng
Luka Dončić
Latrell Sprewell
Larry Johnson
Lamar Odom

Honorable mentions Lonzo Ball Lamelo Ball Luis Scola Landry Shamet Lance Stephenson
M:

Michael Jordan
Mark Jackson
Moses Malone
Manu Ginóbili
Marc Gasol
Mark Price
Mike Conley
Mitch Richmond
Monta Ellis
Maurice Edward Cheeks

Honorable mentions Metta world Peace (formerly Ron artest) Micheal Finley Mike Bibby Michael Redd Michael Beasley Michael Cooper Maurice "Mo" Williams Mahmoud Abdur-Raouf
N: (used basketball reference for norm Nixon)

Nate Robinson
Nikola Jokić
Nikola Vučević
Nick Anderson
Norman Powell
Nicolas Batum
Nene Hilario
Norm Nixon
Nick Van Exel
Nate "the great" Thurmond

Honorable mentions Nikola Mirotić Nikola Peković
O: (used basketball reference for #7)

Oscar Robertson
Otis Thorpe
Otto Porter
O.J. Mayo
Omer Asik
Omri Casspi
Onyeka Okongwu
OG Anunoby
Obi Toppin
Otis Birdsong

P:

Paul George
Paul Pierce
Patrick Ewing
Pau Gasol
Paul Millsap
Pascal Siakam
Pooh Richardson
Paul Westphal
"Pistol" Pete Maravich
Purvis Short

Honorable mentions Patrick Beverly Patty Mills Pat Connaughton
Q: (used bball reference from #4-10)

Quentin Richardson
Quincy Acy
Quincy Pondexter
Quincy Douby
Quinn Cook
Quinndary Weatherspoon
Quinn Snyder
Quentin Grimes
Quintin Dailey
Quinton Ross

R:

Ray Allen
Russell Westbrook
Rajon Rondo
Robert Parish
Reggie Miller
Robert "Bob" Lanier
Robert "Bob" Cousey
Ralph Sampson
Robert E. Lee "Bob" Pettit
Robert "Bob" McAdoo

Honorable mention Rasheed Wallace Rudy Gay Rik Smits Rick Barry Richard "RIP" Hamilton Rod Strickland Ron Harper Rudy Gobert Ronaldo Blackman
S:

Shaquille O'Neal
Scottie Pippen
Steve Nash
Stephen Curry
Shawn Kemp
Serge Ibaka
Sidney Moncrief
Shawn Marion
Shai Gilgeous-Alexander
Sam Cassell

Honorable mentions
Samuel Dalembert Shareef Abdur-Rahim Sam Perkins Stephen Marbury Stephen Jackson Steve Francis Steve Smith
T:

Tim Duncan
Tony Parker
Tracy McGrady
Terry Porter
Tom Chambers
Thaddeus Young
Tyrese Haliburton
Toni Kucoc
Trae Young
Tayshaun Prince

Honorable mentions Terry Rozier Tobias Harris Tyreke Evans Tyler Herro Ty Lawson
U: (literally used bball reference for everyone after udonis)

Udonis Haslem
Uwe Blab
Usman Garuba
Udoka Azubuike
Ulice Payne
Uluss Thompson
Uroš Slokar
Ulysses Cleon Reed
N/A
N/A

V:

Vince Carter
Victor Oladipo
Vlade Divac
Vin Baker
Vernon Maxwell
Vinnie Johnson
Vince Edwards
Vern Fleming
Vince Taylor
Vinny Del Negro

Honorable mentions
Voshon Lenard
W: (used basketball reference for #8-10)

Wilt Chamberlain
Walt Bellamy
Walt Frazier
Willis Reed
Westley Sissel "Wes" Unseld
Willie Anderson
William "Bill" Russell
Wesley Person
Walter Davis
Wayne Embry

Honorable mention Willie Cauley-Stein Wayne Ellington Wesley Matthews
X (used basketball reference for all except #1&2)

Xavier Tillman
Xavier Henry
Xavier McDaniel
Xavier Munford
Xavier Cooks
Xavier Rathan-Mayes
Xavier Sneed
Xavier Silas
Xavier Rey
Xue Yuyang

Y. (Used bball reference for #5-10)

Yao Ming
Yi Jianlin
Yuta Watanabe
Yogi Ferrell
Yakhouba Diawara
Yaroslav Korolev
Yinka Dare
York Larese
Yuta Tabuse
Yante Maten

Z (used bball reference for #7-9)

Zion Williamson
Zach Randolph
Zach Lavine
Zaza Pachulia
Zach Collins
Ziaire Williams
Zoran Planinić
Zydrunas Ilgauskas
N/A
N/A

Thank you for the read to all those who read. Let me know your thoughts on the players I chose for each letter and if I missed any players or if I put someone on the list who doesn't deserve to be on it. Also let me know which letter has the best NBA players.
Looking forward to reading your comments!

I am about to see my extended relatives and they are critical and love to give advice. I know this comes from their own trauma, but they remind me of my mother, and I just want to lash out. I never do, but the feeling is bottled up. Let’s say they are the opposite of me in politics, vaccine stance, and how to present to the world, which could be fine, if they didn’t also love dishing out their advice, which is based on their POV. Also, they are not better off than I am in intelligence or financial status but go out of their way to tell me how well off they are. Which tbh is not much, I am smart and can pay my bills, but no rich genius and neither are they. I am going to see them in 10 days, and I am already stressed. Can’t back out. Can’t go NC. And, this also brings up a dark part of my personality that I don’t want to indulge. The one that learned from my mom to cut people down to size. Any tools to help me survive? Also, I am trying to see them as also wounded souls. But, it is a TRIGGER! Big capital letters trigger. No small thing here.

Hey all. So we live in a semi rural setting and don’t have mains sewerage, instead the village has a sewage treatment plant which the house is connected to but the title deed has no mention of it. When we moved in no one was able to pass us on the information for how to pay and no one from the council was interested in sorting it so we just let it slide. I made an effort after about 6 months and called the council, they came and put some dye down the loo and traced it to the local sewer treatment plant, I expected to hear from them shortly but nothing received until about 4 months later I get a letter telling me that I can appoint a solicitor to draw up an agreement to use their sewage treatment facilities and then they’ll bill me… no thanks I thought to myself and just filed it away (I’m 90% sure I still have the letter but I can’t currently find it).
Roll forward 5 years and I get a letter through the door telling me to start paying almost £50 a month for the sewerage! Given that it isn’t mentioned anywhere on the title deed etc. do I actually have to start paying them?? Are there any holes I can make them jump through, I feel like an out of blue demand given that they previously said I would need to instruct a lawyer doesn’t seem right.
Bit of a niche situation but any advice appreciated. Thanks!

Little one turned 5. Is watching a few non age appropriate things cause I am a bad dad that can't say no.
(Chucky, Critters, Gremlins, Commando the gorey ending...).
Today we watched Charlie's Angels.
1) It holds the attention span of a 5 year old, despite the "twist".
2) she loves the girls and their disguises.
3) They jump of planes dispose of a bomb, land in a cigarette boat, they race formulas in traffic, they race cars, they back flip kick..
4) the action is not 10/10.But frankly... I've seen legit action movies be considered better with far shitting action scenes (multi cuts, cgi..).
5) the movie is pretty funny...
6) the characters ar pretty cool. Great cast. Bill Murray, Sam Rockwell, Comeback Barrymore, Peak Diaz, Tim fucking Curry is that movie! Crispin Glover!
Movie was pretty me when I saw it as a young cinephile.. But when the target audience is Dad's with Daughters.. It's a great movie.
I'm literally laughing randomly thinking about how much the little one liked their disguises and the action scenes.
Even drew Barrymore sticks her tongue playfully on numerous occasions.
There is plenty of profanity but it goes under the radars. The word bitch is thrown around and... When Crispin first shows up "Smack my bitch up starts playing".
A (beloved) character gets the sword treatment.
Overall the verdict is...
We didn't know what we had till it was gone. Even our shit movies were gems!
Next on the list of action movies are Charlie's 2, Tomb Raider (which I also hates as a young cinephile)

My son (just finishing 3rd) was homeschooled for kindergarten. He loved learning, and of course we went past curriculum and onto other grade level education.
Being how much he loves learning, he's frustrated with public school, since the teachers always focus on the students who need the most help. They look at my son and shrug, like, "oh he's fine. Hes brilliant". Which is what upsets him. He wants that same amount of one on one time with his teachers. He's at school simply to be educated, and feels like no one there cares.
Meanwhile my younger daughter, who's just finishing 1st grade, loves school. She's more creative and dramatic, and an excellent helper in class. She's a team player. She's not great with reading, but we're working on that. She also is taking advantage of the schools speech therapy program, which has been a big help to her letter pronunciation.
I don't want one kid to be in public school without the other. If I keep my son home I feel like I'm spoiling him, and the same if I keep my daughter in school. But I don't want my son to hate school. He loves learning and I don't want him to connect a sucky learning environment, with education.
In the end I plan to pull them out for middle school. I just don't think that time in their life, where their developing, physically, emotionally, and are all hormonal, do I want them around other kids in that same boat. Remembering public middle school, it was an incredibly hostile place for both kids and teachers.
My son would only need to be in public school for 2 more years before starting middle school at home.
This all feels like rambling. Please tell me your thoughts.
Add: thanks guys for y'all's input. This is exactly what I needed ❤️

Fletch gently pushed open the large and lavishly decorated bronze doors of the university administration building and ambled out into the portico. He set his cup of coffee down on the pedestal of a granite pillar and pulled his cigarette case from the breast pocket of his tan trench coat. The old chief inspector plucked a cigarette from the ornately engraved case with slender fingers and wondered why the Kael let him come at all.
Something felt very off with the whole thing. The more he thought about it, the more he questioned the story he got. Mike Anderson was certainly depressed, but as far as Fletch could tell, he had not displayed any suicidal behavior. And why now? Fletch thought. Things were on the upswing for the kid. His grades were excellent, his family situation was good, and he was out of the house more this term than the last. Fletch scratched his mustache. Why would the seals hide the autopsy and the gun? He brought the cigarette to his lips, snapped the filigreed case shut, and slipped it back into the breast pocket of his coat. Fletch flicked open his lighter and sighed as he lit his cigarette. Murder.
It was a hopeless case. These days, warrants were approved by the seals, and even if they weren't, he doubted that he could get one anyway. His suspicion of foul play was backed by nothing but his instinct.
Fletch watched students hustle and bustle through the plaza in front of him as he puffed away at his cigarette and pondered his theory.
But why kill him now? They could have done it in complete secrecy while he was a POW. And it couldn’t be to keep what happened in Philadelphia under wraps. His death brings more attention to it. And he wasn’t a rebel. So why? Fletch sipped at his coffee as he flicked ash from his cigarette. Vengeance? Did he kill some noble brat during the war?
Fletch scratched at his grey mustache and glanced at his watch. I’ll have to follow that thread. He tossed his half-smoked cigarette into a puddle as he briskly walked down the steps and through the university plaza.
The withered investigator was deep in thought when he entered the parking lot. What do I tell that Enrique chap? He unlocked his car and crawled in. I certainly can’t tell him that his mate’s been clipped with no evidence. Fletch turned the key, and the engine of his little Volvo sputtered to life. It’s no bleeding use. I’ll just tell the lad they weren’t interested in sharing and keep my suspicions to myself.
As he reached for the shifter, Fletch noticed a delightfully thick manilla envelope stuck in the gap between the center console and the passenger seat.
He pulled the envelope from the crack. Gingerly, he opened it and pulled out a small note. It read We’re even now, prick.
Fletch smiled and couldn’t help but mutter, “The game is afoot,” as he flicked through the stack of documents inside.
Isabella poked her head into the large office and saw Professor Dret’la with a ball of dark green yarn on her lap and bone darning needles beset with carvings in her hands.
Isabella was struck with confusion. What? She crochets!?
The professor looked up from her labor, spotted the confused girl outside her door, and called, “Come in.”
Isabella walked into the office and took a seat. She gestured to the yarn in the professor's hands. “What are you making?”
The professor smiled as motherly as one could with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. “It will be a hat for my son. He just received his commission as a junior biologist, so he has to rummage around in freezers to get samples for his whole research team.”
Isabella blinked. This was not characteristic at all for the quick-tempered professor with a penchant for launching chalk across lecture halls at the mildest provocation.
Isabella shook off her shocked expression and gave the tall professor a dimpled cheek smile. “That’s so sweet! I’m sure he’ll love it. One of the best gifts I’ve ever received was a thick wool sweater from my mamma during a training exercise off the coast of Norway.”
The professor, still smiling, sat up straight. “I hope that’s the kind of reception I get.”
The professor’s demeanor hardened as she stowed the yarn and needles in the desk drawer. “Now, let's get down to business.”
Isabella gulped.
“To start, congratulations. You’ve passed our testing and been selected for officer training.”
Isabella asked, “Who else was selected?”
“There are nine others: Robert Rhodes, Elena Pavel, Hal Jellico, Zheng Li, Brooke Halsey, Colow Aden, Magnus Tordenskjold, Bill Lee, and Kazuya Yamamoto.”
Isabella didn’t recognize all the names.
“Should you choose to accept, you will be taking a prep course taught by Colonel Ocidea and I starting next week and lasting all through the summer. If we deem you ready, you’ll ship out for basic training and then off to the Royal Military Academy, where you can earn your commission.” Dr. Dret’la leaned in close to Isabella. “Do you accept?”
Without hesitation, Isabella answered, “Yes.”
“Mike, come over here. You’re going to want to see this.” Calty voiced from her seat in the front of the cockpit.
Mike rolled off the couch and walked into the front of the cockpit as the captain shouted, “Decelerate!” Mike couldn’t help but grab onto the back of Calty’s seat as the FTL drive kicked into gear. The cockpit glass dimmed just before blindingly bright blue jets of fire from the front-facing engines came into view. A bright green circle flickered onto the glass surrounding a marble-sized dot darker than the rest of the now dim screen. The dots and circles expanded at an extreme pace until they took up most of the display. Another dot appeared—minuscule compared to the other—surrounded by a red circle. The growth of the shadowy dots and the circles around them slowed and then stopped entirely as the engines sputtered out.
The HUD faded out of view, and the tint of the glass slowly lightened, revealing a vast planet embraced by blue-green ice with a colossal foundry in its orbit. The planet, a gas giant called Drassus, was orbited by four rings. One was made of containers, and the other three were made up of loose ore gleaming in the nearby star's light. Exhaust chimneys spewing gas and fire sprouted from the otherwise spherical foundry, giving it a sea urchin-like profile, which, together with the weave of pipes bringing fuel from beneath the icy surface of the planet below, made the foundry resemble an old naval mine.
The captain strode up to the front of the cockpit. “One-third ahead and steer 14 degrees left. We’re unloading in bay three.”
Six mech suits and a tug exited a plasma-shielded hanger as the ship came to a halt. The mechs glided to the front of the ship and started dismounting the external cargo bay from the Broken Fin while the tug hitched onto the opposite end of the ten-kilometer-long rack of containers.
A little while later, the tug pulled away with the load of containers, and the comm system blared to life. “Broken Fin, you are cleared to leave. The UO corporation thanks you for your business.”
The captain replied, “Our pleasure. Broken fin out.” as the ship pulled out of the loading bay.
He turned to the navigation officer and said, “Lock in coordinates for jump to Kael Prime.”
The captain went to the central control board and pulled up traffic control. “Tower 1, this is the Broken Fin. We request a jump slot to Kael Prime from Drassus.”
“Broken Fin, request granted. Your departure slot is at 16:33.”
Mike glanced at the top right of the ship's HUD and looked at the time. 16:21.
Better get my stuff together…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ship shuddered ever so slightly despite the inertial dampeners as it exited FTL. Mike was lounging on the couch with his bag at his feet. He was ready to get off this tub.
Mike idly watched flames lick at the cockpit window as the ship descended into the atmosphere of Kael Prime. He looked at Dreki, who was sitting on the other couch. His muscles bulged through his clothes despite wearing a white sweater so large it could be mistaken for the sail of an average-sized boat. Mike asked, “Do you know anything about what’ll happen to me now?”
The big Kael shifted in his seat. “Technically, I’m not supposed to tell you anything, but what the hell.” Dreki pulled the collar of his sweater down, revealing an angry white number burnt into his iron-gray skin just below the collarbone. “First, you’ll get branded.” He released his shirt and pointed to a small scar on the side of his head. “Then you’ll get an AR implant.”
“Where will I be getting that?” Mike asked.
“The Imperial Science Academy. We’re going to be staying there for a few days. They’ll run a bunch of tests and get you fitted for equipment there. After that, I’ll drop you off at the spaceport, and you’ll be off to Tlaxcalssus for basic training. After that, I don’t know.”
“Thanks.”
The ship shook as it touched down on the landing pad. “Time to go.” Dreki shouldered his pack and walked out the door. Mike fiddled with the straps of his bag as he followed Dreki down the ramp and to the far side of the ship, away from the rest of the passengers. Mike's nose was immediately assaulted with the acrid smell of sulfur from where the fiery exhausts of engines had melted asphalt. The spaceport was swarming with vehicles and filled with the constant roar of ship engines and a symphony of smaller equipment. Power loaders and mechs loaded and unloaded heavy cargo, shuttles bustled to and fro with passengers, baggage carriers snaked through the crowded landing pads, and vehicles that looked like floating garage doors zipped through the air at ankle height, bringing pilots and crew to their ships. Mike couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, in the heartland of the enemy, walking through what was essentially a ten-acre parking lot.
Dreki plopped his bags on the ground and yawned as he stretched his arms over his head. “Our skiff will be here in a minute.”
Mike tuned out the beeps and whirrs of the tank-sized forklifts and mechs unloading the ship and gazed out beyond at the horizon. You’re not in Kansas anymore, bub. Mike thought as he studied the skyline of the imperial city basked in the glow of the early evening sun. Some of the buildings wouldn’t look all that out of place on Earth, but the skyline was assaulted with abominations that pissed on the laws of physics as Man understood them. Tusk-shaped skyscrapers defied gravity with their seemingly unsupported curves, and even more absurd were pyramids stacked atop another point-to-point like hourglasses. Any delusion of normalcy that Mike could come up with was shattered.
Dreki picked up his bag and pointed to a slab of black marble speeding towards them at ankle height. “Here’s our skiff.” A railing popped out of the center as the skiff came to a gliding halt. Dreki boarded the skiff and took hold of the rail, and Mike followed suit.
They sped through the spaceport and stopped outside what looked to Mike like a train station. Dreki shouldered his bag and stepped off the skiff. Mike stepped off and quickly fell in pace with Dreki. The big Kael led Mike into a grand station bustling with people. Most were Kael, but there was a smattering of other species. Some stared at Mike, others glanced, but most completely ignored him as he followed Dreki through the hall and onto a platform. Unfamiliar aliens clearly weren’t an uncommon sight here.
The walls of the station were covered with mosaics depicting Kael warriors from the distant past. Dreki noted the human's curiosity and said, “The founders of the clans.” He leveled a massive hand toward an opulent, towering mosaic of a Kael warrior wielding a bronze falx. The imposing figure's body was made of blue gemstones, the eyes rubies, one tusk silver, and the other gold. “That’s the founder of my clan, Drekalla Gold Tusk.”
Mike asked, “How’d he manage that?” As he followed Dreki into a mostly empty train car.
Dreki plopped down on a bench. “He was the war priest of Hroptaug the Conqueror during the unification wars. After the wars were won, Hroptaug granted us the Steam Hills.” Dreki pointed through the train window at the mosaic of another warrior whose body was made of milky white pearls. “That one,” He paused and spat on the floor, “Tiblan the Terror, challenged Drekalla to a duel for most of that land. Drekalla was cutting him to pieces, but the craven poisoned his blade. Just before Drekalla could deliver the final blow, the poison reached his heart, and Drekalla died. The only wound on his body was a cut across his forearm that barely drew blood.” Dreki rolled up his sleeve, showing a scar that reached from his elbow to the middle of his forearm. “Every K’alla is cut the same way to remind us of the blood feud.”
Mike inwardly sighed. Kael and their damned feuds… “How long ago was this.”
“Seven thousand four hundred and fifty-one years ago.”
Mike held back a snort. The absurdity of it all. The first human law codes came about to stop blood feuds, and out here, they have feuds that have lasted longer than Earth's recorded history.
“How’s that feud been going as of late?”
Dreki’s face sagged, “Not good.”
They both grew quiet. Mike shuffled uncomfortably.
Mike glanced at the route display and broke the silence, “What's with the middle city, inner city thing?”
Dreki relaxed slightly. “Oh, so the city used to be a fortification. The inner city is actually a volcanic island. The middle is built over the river, and the outer city was built on the banks.”
“I see.”
The doors closed, and the intercom sounded, “Next stop, the inner city.”
Dale Robert’s wrinkled face was unreadable, and his highly decorated black and blue dress uniform immaculate as he led a horse through the street. He felt the eyes of thousands of onlookers on him, and he hated it. The pure black horse had a black leather saddle on its back. Two tall, glossy black boots were placed backward in silver stirrups, and the elaborate hilt of Mike’s basket-hilted broadsword jutted from the top of a black leather scabbard buckled to the saddle. Roberts followed the horse-drawn caisson bearing the flag-draped coffin of his old commanding officer. Not much farther now, he thought. The sounds of the cartwheels rolling and the horse’s tack jangling were wholly drowned out by boots stamping the ground in unison. Almost all of the 1800 survivors of the 801st regiment were there, resplendent in their dress uniforms, marching behind Mike one more time. The local police and fire departments joined them.
Roberts was unsure about it all. He felt that the poor kid's family would have preferred a smaller service back home in Colorado instead of this damn near royal procession. And Roberts was damn sure that the seals did not give their permission for this, no matter what the police chief said.
A reporter ducked through the police barricade and tried to ask the marching soldiers questions, but they remained stone-faced as the procession marched nearer to the gates of Philadelphia National Cemetery. Roberts handed the reigns of the riderless horse to another man in uniform and joined seven other members of Charlie platoon in pulling the casket from the cassion. They silently began their march to the grave, closely followed by General McCarthy, the man who was Joint Chief of Staff, and the color guard. Bagpipers began to blare, “Going Home.” Roberts heard the sound of gravpulse engines and looked up in dismay as a Kael gunship broke through the low clouds and descended to just barely above the cemetery. A loudspeaker blared, “Disperse at once.”

From henrymakow.com:
https://vaticancatholic.com/secret-letter-from-the-the-central-conference-of-american-rabbis-revealed/
"the dumb goyim will fight while we profit"
I want to know, in 2024 in Western countries, is the rule that we should all treat each other with respect and be color-blind to race or culture or nationality in terms of fair treatment and respect, or does it only matter if particular favored groups are respected? And why?
What happened to the concept of all men being created equal?
Congress's Antisemitism bill disrespects the concepts of equal treatment under the law, and freedom of speech and religion.
This is a slide back into the Dark Ages where heretics to the current ruling monarch or church were burned.

Read this first https://www.reddit.com/ShingekiNoKyojin/comments/1csxjdx/before_the_battle/

The cart with Zeke, and Reiner are heading back to the port, they are already late. They took too long waiting for the scouts and are thinking the ship isn't there. They are currently running back to the port. Reiner's limbs haven't regrown yet.

Zeke: "Reiner. I can't believe you. I understand that those spear things are new, however, when they were thrown, you are telling me you just let them hit you? It messed the whole plan up, Bertholdt didn't transform."
Reiner: "I think it is over for me. Wait a minute.. hey.. where's Bertholdt?"
Zeke: "Eren was holding him hostage, we couldn't get him. That is your fault. We lost the Colossal. You will be stripped of the armor, your group also lost Marcel, of course we have Porco. However, Marcel was more skilled. Now Annie is being held hostage. Now what Reiner? You will surely be stripped of the armor."
Reiner: "I-"

Suddenly, in the distance, yellow light appears in Shiganshina

Zeke: "Pieck stop. They must have gotten a titan serum. Erwin is probably eating Bertholdt."

Pieck stops, Reiner watches in horror. Then, steams comes out of the city.

Reiner: "It's my fault. My life is over. I didn't follow the plan"
Zeke: "It very much is, it was all your fault as well. What if other countries find out that we lost these titans? They won't hesitate to attack. If you dare to throw me under and blame me, I will set up a new warrior to eat you."

Pieck runs to the port, some titans try to chase after her, but there aren't many. After 2 days they arrive, with no rest. Zeke told her to get there as fast as she could, so they might have a slim chance of reaching the boat.

Magath: "Where's the founder?"
Zeke: "Reiner?"
Reiner: "We failed because I didn't follow the plan, we lost Bertholdt as well, they have his power."
Magath: "You can't be fucking serious. We spent all that money and training for you and only you return? Marcel was lost the first day and now those 5 years were all for nothing?!"
Reiner: "Well we have some knowledge -"
Magath: "Reiner. All I will say is that you WILL be stripped of the armor. We wasted money on you. You're lucky we decided to return despite you not being here, Eldian."
Zeke: "The battle began after 4 days sir. Reiner didn't follow my plan. It is his fault."
Magath: "All 3 of us, get on the ship now, we need to talk about the information. Reiner, we will find a new warrior within 6 months."
Zeke: "The founding titan lays within Eren Yeager, he is my half-brother. My father Grisha, must've gotten away when he got sent to "heaven". It appears that the Attack Titan lays within Eren as well, since the only way Grisha could get to the walls was if he was a titan. We also don't know what happened to that titan as well. The scouts may come here soon, they will go beyond the walls after all they clear out all the titans. Should we send more?"
Magath: "I'm not sure yet. However if the world finds out that we lost 2 titans, we may be in trouble."

4 months later, Zeke meets with the Azumabitos and tells them about how Marley lost 2 titans. They publish newspapers around the world. Many countries in the Mid East unite to form a union, thinking they can beat Marley. The union declares war immediately.

Magath: "Reiner, you are incredibly lucky that someone told the outside world about the loss of our two titans. If you fight in this war and prevail victorious, you will not be stripped of the armor. That person will be tortured and killed."
Reiner: "I won't waste this chance, sir."
On Paradis, the scouts reach the sea. All the titans are gone and none are sent back to Eldia. Eren by each day, gets more miserable knowing what he is going to do. The country is blooming. The scouts saved Paraids, railways are being built as well as ports. However, there is debate to attack Marley or wait. People are not sure.
Currently, the M.E.A.F are winning the war.
Eventually, as we know leaves the Scouts after a meeting about treatment of subjects of ymir turns on them.
Eren plans a raid on Liberio, writes letters talking about how Zeke will join their side. Eren currently lives in a hospital, disguised as a wounded soldier, despite Eren fighting in the war.

I won't disclose its actual location, so if that's why you're here, sorry to disappoint. It's not time for that yet. However, I do think it's time to start getting the word out. I've noticed an increase in what I'll call "Antennas" lately, or people who can detect cross-planar phase shifts. Without getting into all the math (some of which I don't even know), this is basically a phenomenon which refers to entropy seeping into our universe from other realms or universes or whatever you want to call it. Simply put, people think our universe is a closed system to entropy, meaning that the disorder of any variable in our universe can only increase or decrease in direct proportion to other variables in that same system (the universe). Under this precept, we can establish rules like the Laws of Thermodynamics, and for most people, they're effective. But not for Antennas.
Put another way, if you throw a bunch of bouncy balls into a box, there are a number of different configurations that the balls could take on, with different speeds and magnitudes. You can calculate all of those if you have the right numbers. Now let's say you throw in another set of balls that you don't consider in your calculations of the initial set. Well, then you're not going to get an accurate picture of what's happening. Most people only see the first set and calculate based on that, but some people can see two, three, four or more sets.
You'll understand the concept better when I tell you the story, but I wanted to give you a primer on an important concept that will help you understand why this place, which I'll call "Area X", exists, and what the goals of the people who work there are.
Also note that I'm going to be using the alias "Trent" moving forward. Please refer to me as such in any direct messages.
***
Eighteen years ago I started working as an independent Home Inspector. I dropped out of community college after my first semester (not because I didn't find some of the subjects interesting, but because deference to a man or woman has never been my style) and started working some odd jobs. I did construction work for a couple years, then plumbing. I even drove a garbage truck for six months. I've always found pleasure in using my hands, and getting dirty was never a problem for me. Still, having a boss really dragged ass, so I spent my free time working on creating my own business. It took a few years and lots of savings, but I finally managed to get basic set of Home Inspection equipment: Tyvek coveralls, a cheap half-face respirator, voltage & AFCI/GFCI testers, CO2 and radon monitors, an IR camera, and telescoping mirrors in addition to the boots, safety glasses, electric gloves, ladder, and toolkits I already had on hand.
My buddy at the time was in the business, but he was moving off to the coast, so he helped me get set up and even introduced me to some of his clients. Of course, by that time I had already gotten my State license, but I still was a bit apprehensive to work with insurance agencies. I thought I could make a living working independently, inspecting for mold or sizing up a house for a prospective buyer. Eventually, though, I realized I should probably take every job available to me.
Easing into the business went about as well as it could have. The clients my friend referred to me were very satisfied with my work, and I was able to retain them. Then, in order to increase my reach, I hired someone on Fiverr to build a website for my company which led to a marked increase in traffic and conversions. About six months through, I began to get on a first-name basis with the boys and girls down down at Allstate and Progressive, and they fed me some of the bigger cases. In fact, I got so booked by year's end that I had to hire someone to help manage my schedule and the Excel spreadsheet with all my finances. I capped off a successful year with a 5-star Google rating and a trip to Ireland to visit some family and friends and get piss drunk. When I got back, it was the grindstone all over again, until the summer when I discovered… well, you'll see.
First off, I want to say that I was never one to believe in the paranormal. I grew up watching the movies and hearing the ghost stories round the campfire like every other kid, but it never struck a chord with me. If I can't touch it or see it or hear it, does it really exist? Probably not. So don't go thinking this was a scared man seeing his own shadow. That being said, I had this sense that something was off about this house when I parked along the curb and looked through a large window, perhaps two times the size of my van, to a dingy, dark foyer.
The entire neighborhood was stacked with upper-middle class domiciles, though it seemed like only two thirds of them were occupied, mostly by professionals who commuted to the City every weekday, and the rest were empty. As a man who understands real estate, to say this was strange would be an understatement. Still, I had no problem appraising the mini-mansion for a couple of newlyweds looking to enter the community. I did some research on the property ahead of time, and it seems that it was owned by a couple of old timers who had gone off the grid some time ago. The water and electric bill were both unpaid dating back to 2004 (it was June of '06 now). The bank had repo'd the house (which only had about 100k left on it) and held it for a year and a half before putting it back on the market. I tried to find out more about the old couple who vanished, but there was nothing in the news.
I stepped out of the van in my coveralls and grabbed my suitcase which had my mask, gloves, and eye protection in it. I liked to do a preliminary survey first, running an eye test on the exterior then interior before bringing out the big guns (that way I could identify the areas where I think there could be problems instead of running a metal detector over the whole damn ocean seaboard). I was about to do just that when the window caught my eye again. It felt uncharacteristic of me to be so occupied with this window, but I detoured to the front porch and peeked inside anyway.
Most of the furniture had already been moved out, meaning all that was left was a single three-seater couch, a couple candlesticks on the fireplace mantle, a pristine chandelier overtop a dining room table, and the kitchenware: an oven, gas stovetop, marble countertops, and an island. I could see into the living room very clearly with the afternoon light, but the dining room was dim enough that there were a few structures I couldn't quite make out in the distance. One of them appeared to be some kind of china cabinet or bookshelf—I figured it was the former considering where it was located. The other shadow looked kind of like a grandfather clock. Or at least that's what I thought until it moved.
When I say it "moved", I don't mean to say that it picked up and walked away. If you're not familiar with the Necker Cube, I suggest you search it up, because that kind of illusion is the best way to describe what I saw. At first I was seeing the grandfather clock in a certain way—pushed into the corner of the room—and the next second my vision "corrected" and it was maybe five feet to the left of its former position. I shook my head and looked again and saw the grandfather clock in its second orientation, standing in the center of the room against the wall. I figured I was just seeing things, but even so I spent a little extra time dawdling around the Egress window, taking notes, and delaying the interior inspection.
When I finally grew a pair and went inside, I walked straight to the dining room. Sure enough, the grandfather clock was stowed away in the corner of the room. I spent a couple minutes watching it with my pencil and travel notebook out. I'm the kind of guy that likes to collect hard data when the chips are down. Unfortunately, the clock apparently already had enough fun and was content with sweating me. Oh, well.
I fitted my pencil behind my ear and pocketed my travel notebook, then flipped the rest of the first floor lights on and completed my prelim. I concluded that everything was pretty standard. If anything, the house was in better shape than I'd expect considering it presumably hasn't been lived in for a couple years. I say "presumably" because one can never count out squatters, even during those times. Mainly I was expecting more dust build up and cobwebs than there were. Perhaps someone from the department had come by recently. It's unlikely, but possible.
I did the same check upstairs and it came back mostly clean. There was a bit of staining near the attic I wanted to check for mold. Based on its color, it was probably just a minor case of Aspergillus, but better safe than sorry. Then I got to the basement, and, well, let's just count out the idea of anyone dropping by. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what I found.
The first thing that caught my eye was the long, slender body of a birch tree lying pale and dead across a large portion of the even larger unfinished basement's cement flooring. I had to do a double take to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but, yep, there it was. Its crown was sealed up in the wall with only its trunk hanging out, which made me think of those medieval pillory devices which locked up people's heads and arms. Then confetti-scattered around the tree and all over the basement floor was a minefield of broken glass and ceramic tangled up with a set of random objects. And when I say random, I mean random. There was an unfurled Somali flag (the blue one with a single star in the center), some packaged drinks and condiments branded with all sorts of different languages (I could only make out Gaelic and Chinese or Japanese, I couldn't quite tell), a broken dome-shaped security camera, an otoscope (the thing the doc uses to check your ears), Hot Wheels cars (okay that one isn't so strange), and the list goes on.
At that moment, I wasn't freaked out or disgusted. I was more or less just confused. I started walking through the rubble, trying to avoid the sharp fragments but pretty confident that my steel toed boots would crush most the pieces anyway, when I heard a clink just up ahead. I was able to spot the coin in time, just before it jingled to a halt atop an old Life magazine. I picked it up and noted right away its oval shape and bronze color—clearly not American made. I tried reading it, but not only was the language not English, it appeared to be so old that most of the lettering had been filed down. I looked up at the ceiling to see if it dropped from a shelf, but there was nothing that could have been holding the coin. I considered for a moment, looking around at the other junk, and had the crazy idea that maybe all this stuff just appeared here. I popped the coin in my pocket and headed back to the van when I stopped by the tree and realized something. It wasn't a birch tree—it was a palm tree. I just didn't realize because of how ashy and decayed the bark was.
Now at this point you might think I've been acting a little nonchalant for such a strange occurrence, and I don't blame you, but if you're gonna stick around with me that's just something you're gonna have to get used to. I guess I was just born with a screw loose, but I really don't scare easily, and I tend to look at everything pragmatically. If you dig deep enough, you'll always find another plausible explanation. That being said, I do want to get to the part about Area X, so let me give you the rundown on what I learned about this basement.
I ended up trekking back to the van and picking up my gear. I was no longer running the routine inspection, obviously, but I figured I might as well throw 30 thousand dollars of scanning equipment at whatever the fuck anamoly existed in that basement. Most of it came back negative. There was a bit higher-than-usual EM interference as picked up on the voltmeters, but nothing that screamed danger close. Still, it was enough for me to set up my volt testers and IR camera while muddling through the rest of the junk. I won't bore you with another list of items, but I did find one thing of value: a diamond necklace. And not just any diamond necklace, it was one of those Queen-wearing, multi-row, big-jeweled necklaces like out of some Historical Fiction movie from the thirties. I almost didn't pocket it because I'm used to expensive items being owned by someone… someone who might want it back. But I figured if there was ever a place the finder's keeper's rule applied, it was probably in this Quantum graveyard.
7 O'clock rolled around and I hadn't eaten. I'm a pretty bulky guy, carrying my share of both muscle and fat, and most people think that means I need to eat a ton but that's really not the case. Mostly I just get dehydrated easily, especially in the summer. That said, I was bordering on famished territory and considered heading out for a bite when I heard another sound. The first thing I did was check my scanners, and sure enough the voltage needle was fully spun to the right side of the dial. EM interference. Then I went to see what had dropped. I was able to pick the object out pretty quickly since I had spent the last 6 hours staring at the mosaic of a basement floor. It was a silver briefcase, like one of those out of a crime novel, and it was cracked open.
I had this sense then that I was standing at a precipice, and if I opened the briefcase and looked inside, I wouldn't be able to stop whatever would come afterwards. Part of me deep down knew that I was just that type of guy that had to know, and maybe this was my Hamlet moment where it would be a trait gone a step too far. But then again I didn't really believe in any of that sentimental bullshit, so I opened the briefcase.
The gun surprised me a little, but not as much as the piece of paper laid atop a case file reading in large black font, "FIND ME". I expected the envelope to have some missing person file in it, but instead there were all these schematics and blueprints for some kind of device. Whatever it was, it was pretty massive. Some of the lengths were hundreds of meters long. And what's more strange is based on the blueprint's locale, it appeared to be underground. I looked back through the pages a couple times, then checked the note—nothing strange there. The gun appeared to be a simple glock. I was no gun expert, but I had been to the range pretty regularly with my construction buddies, so I got used to the feel of a pistol and rifle and some of the different names; however, I realized pretty quickly it wasn't your standard glock when I couldn't find mag-release. That's when I noticed how light the gun felt. I tried to chamber a round, but again, there was no hammer. What the hell kind of gun was this?
I ended up throwing everything back in the briefcase, including the necklace, coin, and a few Koozies I found that were branded with one of my favorite sports teams (never let an opportunity go to waste). I put up all my shit back in the van and spun over to a local burger joint, got my fill, and went home. I made sure to draft an email to the prospective buyers, telling them the house had several patches of black mold and a bit of a rat problem before drifting off to sleep. Although I really didn't do much of that.
When I woke up, I took a cold shower and downed a can of Reign, then commuted to my gym and got a lift and some sauna time in before making the trip back to the house. I brought some extra supplies with me for some experiments I cooked up while not sleeping the previous night.
First, I had two camcorders set up on a couple tripods in either corner of the basement. I wanted clear footage of these mystery objects spawning in. Then I set up a voltmeter in a similar fashion, but I had a wire extending out of it on a circuit which fed to an alarm that would blare when the reading was over 250 volts. Upstairs, I rearranged some of the furniture so that the small number of tables, chairs, clock, cabinets, and other little pillows or vases I could find were scattered across the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Then I pulled up a lawn chair to the front porch window and waited.
I didn't have to wait long though. In about a minute, I started to notice some of the objects moving. It was strange. When a few of them would shift simultaneously, it was like looking at a holographic card that would change shape depending on where your eyes were in relation to the image. Every time I saw a shift, I felt an awkward feeling in my eyes. They went blurry for a fraction of a second, then there was a twinge of pain, as if my brain couldn't handle the contradictory stimulus. It didn't get more crazy than that though—until the alarm went off.
I had cracked open the small rectangular window in the basement to the side of the house so I would hear it. It took four hours and several strange stares from passersby walking their dogs before it rang, so I was a bit lost in my thoughts, but when I heard the beep I perked up fast. It lasted for maybe 5 seconds total, but what I saw was truly miraculous. The best way I can describe it is a pool of silver or gray or translucent light emerging in the foreground between me and the objects in the different rooms. A series of twisting tentacles sprouted from the gray octopus-like head and spun in a way that reminded me of that little kids ride at the amusement parks. Then the objects started to "heat up" is the way I describe it. Their position became relative, meaning they were here one second, there another, then they popped out of existence entirely. Suddenly the rooms were all empty, then they were full of things I had never seen before. Then five seconds passed and the octopus vanished and it was back to the same old objects in their usual places.
It took a few minutes to process what I saw, and even then I wasn't sure I really saw it. I went inside and looked around at my distribution of the house's furnishings. They were all there, intact. Then I went downstairs to check the cams. I rewinded a couple minutes and played it back, but there was no flying object to be found. Instead, there was some gray static that lasted half a second and then the object, a kid's treasure chest toy, was there on the ground. But you want to know the really strange part? I rewinded the tape again, and when I watched the footage back, the treasure chest was always there.
I later came to understand that these poppings in-and-out of our reality are only conceivable to a conscious mind that can track the interference patterns—not rote computational instruments. In fact, even most people can't do it (although everyone has at least a slight awareness of it, even if only subconsciously). Plus, locations like the basement of this house are very rare and kept under tight lock. That became obvious to me two days later when, after my normal morning routine, I pulled up to a driveway and curbside filled with unmarked government vehicles. Either bravely or stupidly, I pulled up to a few officers (they were wearing suits in 85 degree weather, so I assumed…) who were idling by the large fence of crime scene tape and asked them what the score was.
"There was a crime," said the short man with a unibrow.
"Oh, is that right? Damn shame. Someone break in? I have a niece who lives nearby, so…"
The man looked at his two compatriots, both of whom were wearing sunglasses and a "get this civilian fuck out of here" expressions. "Oh, yeah," he started in a reassuring tone that was so condescending it would have annoyed anyone except me, "we found a body. We think it was a homicide. Best to keep your kids away from here for a while."
I thumbed the stubble on my chin, my other hand outstretched on the wheel, and considered moving on, but my mouth had other ideas. "That right? But uh, isn't this house vacant? I mean, I don't remember no one living in it."
The short man, now tall with temper, said, "Yeah, some squatters. We think there was a dispute over some drug money. Nothing for you to worry about though, we got it under control. Now if you wouldn't mind moving along, we have a lot of work to do."
Oh, I'm sure you do, I thought, but only said, "Of course, sir, sorry for keeping you from your job." Then I rolled up the window and cruised on, keeping my eyes on the house which slowly diminished in the side-view mirror.
Luckily I had been smart enough to break down my camp and lug home all my equipment each night, so I didn't leave anything incriminating. I didn't move the furniture back, so maybe that would come back to haunt me, but considering the kind of shit going down in that house, I didn't think they would notice.
For any of you wondering about the conclusion of the house story, I went back a couple weeks later after the suits had left and the tape was taken down and confirmed that not only was the basement entirely cleaned out, but it was no longer exhibiting any strange properties. I looked for a story related to the house, maybe a made up murder of some kind, but there was nothing. That bastard lied to me and didn't even bother to cover his story up.
Now, in the aftermath of an event such as this, I really only had one of two options. I could forget it, move on, continue living life. The necklace was surely worth a fortune. I could sell it and have enough to retire, or at least hire enough people and expand my business large enough to retire within ten or so years. Or I could take all that money and invest it in my own PI business with only a single objective: finding out what those people knew, and why they were hiding it.
I think you know me well enough by now to guess which line of reasoning appealed more to me.
***
For the sake of brevity, I'm going to omit most of my encounters along the journey to discovering Area X. There's a lot to tell, and if it appeals to you perhaps I'd be willing to share at a later date, but for now I want to get this part of the story, the more proximal part, out in the open.
Three years ago, I discovered the source of what I'll call "The Receiver". This is the device that was schematized in the documents that I found in the briefcase. What it does is a complex answer, and how it does it is pretty much all speculation, but here's what I've been able to find out: this universe we live in is a node in a network of many other spaces. These spaces exist in higher dimensions that we cannot directly perceive, but using a conceivable analogy, just think about a flower with petals. The petals are these other dimensions which bleed into our world, which is at the center. However, it's not that pretty. We see the physical world through the lens of spacetime: sizes, speeds, etc. These other dimensions don't necessarily have space or time. In fact, what actually exists there, I couldn't say. The only data I have on them is from two sources: correspondence information and server data from the secret agency (which I'll call "the Organization") that keeps this under wraps, and first-hand experience with realms from these other entities, either directly (I experience it) or through the eyes of someone else with the same or greater abilities than I possess.
I referred to these people with abilities earlier as "Antennas", and I will continue to use the term. Antennas really come in three flavors, marked by the strength of their ability: weak Antennas, like me, are able to observe spontaneous interactions between our universe and other dimensions (phase shifts) when there is a strong force of collision like existed in the basement; moderate Antennas may see phase shifts occur at any point, and they usually are able to retain memories from across the different transformations; strong Antennas, and I don't know if they exist yet, but they are able to consciously interact with these other realms and cause phase shifts to occur.
I mentioned that moderate Antennas are able to retain memories from before and after a phase shift. Technically, all Antennas have this ability, but it's about degree. I can recall only very specific instances and without much detail. Moderates are usually able to pick out much more nuanced minutiae. At the lower end of moderate scale, most of those details fade or get fuzzy over time, but for the very strong Antennas, they hold onto almost everything. One other property that scales with strength is interaction with other conscious entities. Only a small percentage of moderates are able to do this. What's interesting is that these entities can possess (yes, like ghosts) people who aren't even antennas, but no one is aware of such possession at this deep of a level. I have several companions now, and only two have had interactions with these otherworldly beings. Not all of them are malevolent, some of them are whimsical or kind, but there are a fair share of demons out there.
Getting back to the point, Area X started as a government funded project in the 70's. At that time, they were focused on a few subjects: Artificial Intelligence, DNA sequencing, and psychedelics. Yes, they were part of the infamous LSD experiments. But they looked at these subjects through a common lens—there was something that the burgeoning tech industry, fueled by the advent of a commercial computer market, was missing. As the tech giants rose in the early 2000's and began to collect mass amounts of data, this other agency was decades ahead in a different metric, although it was completely (and still is) hidden from the public. Their efforts to understand psychedelic experiences led to a formalized method of understanding interactions between multiple realities. They built certain scanning equipment to detect anomalies like the one I found in the basement; although their tools were much more sophisticated and didn't utilize voltage readings. Then they ran tests in these areas. One area in particular is a hot-bed of phase shift interactions. That's where Area X is located (and the Receiver).
The Receiver is a giant electromagnetic orb that has trapped the kind of multi-dimensional energy that causes the phase shifts; since the Organization seized control of the lab, it's effectively become a map of the Earth in relation to these other worlds. For the past twenty or so years, the Organization has been studying this map, using the data big Tech companies have collected to essentially develop a Rosetta Stone for interpreting the meaning of the fluctuations in their scanning equipment. Recently, the public, though going the long way round, was actually pretty close to a breakthrough in this same department until recently when ultra-powerful LLMs surfaced, and the whole world began going down what I'd argue is the wrong rabbit hole of language processing. But I digress.
Area X is essentially a private military base built for defending the most impactful piece of technology ever invented. With the Receiver, the Organization now has the power to essentially predict any and all future outcomes, the only thing holding them back is the limitations of their own scanning equipment which will get better with time. To put it into perspective, the Organization has access to a kind of data allocation tool which in one day can produce over ten thousand times that the Big Data companies combined would be able to filter through in the next decade. You might think, then, that the problem is merely asymmetric power, and that is certainly a concern, but it isn't the main concern. The main issue is that this organization is actively recruiting (and kidnapping) Antennas from around the world in an effort to find or make one of them into a strong Antenna. In other words, they want a subject who is able not only to see the future, but to manipulate it at will.
balance to the world. I've been working on amassing resources, capital, and building my own team, and now I'm ready. You might ask why I'm posting this here. Wouldn't it be better to keep all this secret? Well, yes, it would be. But that's the problem. Nothing is secret anymore. They know about me and the others, and if I don't make a move, they will. In a way, this is a letter directly to the organization that I know, and I'm coming.
In a different way, I wanted to release this information to the public. There are lots of people out there waking up and realizing that the world they experience is not the one others experience. If you think you might be an Antenna, don't be afraid—you have a special gift that can be controlled. If you want more details on how to control it, or if you're interested in my mission, don't be afraid to reach out. This hasn't always been my life's work, but it is now.
At least until I die.

On Tuesday, May 28th, the City Council will vote to approve a bill that will reduce pay for food delivery drivers. App companies are already dramatically reducing offers to some drivers, in violation of current law. (See pictures in comment section)
As Council President Sara Nelson said herself on April 25th, this bill was conceived and written by the app companies and their lobbyists:
“In public comment this was referred to as Sara Nelson’s proposal. Yes, I did advance this legislation. But I want to make sure people recognize that this was an agreement forged between Drive Forward and the network companies.” (From the April 25, 2024 meeting of the Governance, Accountability, and Economic Development Committee Meeting. Timestamp 2:45:30)
Drive Forward is funded and backed by Uber. Based on tax filings, this is their board of directors:

Brooke Steger (President of Drive Forward) is the former Uber Pacific Northwest General Manager.
Caleb Weaver (Treasurer of Drive Forward) worked as a lobbyist for Uber from 2016 to 2021.
Abdul Yusuf (Vice President of Drive Forward) was a manager at Eastside for Hire, another organization funded by Uber.
Allison Ford (Secretary of Drive Forward) is Public Policy Manager, PNW at Uber.
Adria Stoliar (member of Drive Forward board) is Senior Manager for Public Engagement-West at DoorDash.

GIG-WORKERS LIKE ME NEED YOUR HELP!!!

We are desperately trying to get an actual stakeholder process to take place. A process that Sara Nelson committed herself to in a January 4th special article to The Seattle Times:
“Under my leadership, this council won’t externalize our policymaking authority. We will consider perspectives from people on all sides of an issue. And before referring new policy legislation to committee, I’ll confirm it has gone through a robust stakeholder process.”

Please, contact the Seattle City Council directly - [council@seattle.gov](mailto:council@seattle.gov)

And stay connected for updates through Working Washington - https://actionnetwork.org/letters/protect-gig-worker-minimum-wage

I (27F) last last winter (2022) wrote a long letter to my mom. I poured my heart into it, I cried the whole time writing it. I showed it to my husband to make sure I wasn’t being too mean in my writing towards my mom. I showed it to my stepsister to again make sure it was okay and made sense and to get emotional support (I’m Mexican and I didn’t want to push too far because i understand how deep generational trauma is and the parent child dynamic) I even showed it to my stepdad who immediately called me apologizing for the things I wrote in the letter (which I will get into in a moment) and was telling me about how he will divorce her (I didn’t want that and made me feel shitty) and explained why some scenarios ended up the way they did. Everyone encouraged me to send it. I was so confident that my mom was going to read it and drive over ? Write back? Call me. Something ! So I mailed it. (I mailed it because I instantly cry every time I try talking to her in person about not surface level things, it would of been easier getting words out especially when having to translate to Spanish)
In the letter I wrote about:
-Feeling emotionally neglected -the name calling my mom would do (calling me “retarded” and mimicking noises and movements of people with disability towards me among other things -My uncle being a pedo and scaring me into not saying anything to them, i later said something to a friend in HS who went to the counselor who called the police and I made up a person to protect my uncle, I was then grounded for over a year. -the carpet in my bedroom always being wet when it rained which is a lot where I live ruining my feet with a fungal infection that was just ignored (i understand it was a money issue but the hurt remains) -being yelled at for not cleaning everyday (I was the only child who would clean the kitchen and pick up leaves in the fall and stuff), sometimes she would clean again after I would do it. when asking to teach me how to do it better I would be ignored -asking her a question and being ignored -being blamed for high utility bills n being expensive for needing braces -my boyfriend in high school being suicidal when I would try to break up with him and hurting that I couldn’t go to them for help -saying that I tried to hit her to my step dad when I moved out of the way of her too quickly and making a scene about it leaving me confused -about the time she grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the shower because I forgot to pick up the hairs I left in there after my shower -understanding that i understand she probably had a rough childhood and that all I wanted was a normal mother daughter relationship
That’s pretty much the gist among a bunch of other little things that really hurt me and I explained that it was hard to form a relationship with her in my adulthood and trust her with my kids until we addressed these things. I wanted to be acknowledged. Not even an apology really. But a conversation. I wanted to understand her more because I literally don’t know anything about her. We would never talk unless it was to eat dinner or clean something. I was always in my room during that time.
I waited a few weeks, my stepsister would visit them here and there and tell me how my mom appears sad? And maybe she needed more time.
A few months pass by I see my mom smiling in Hawaii having a good time.
At this point I’m in therapy because I’m losing hair from the stress of this and severely depressed.
Fall comes around and I finally go to visit with the encouragement of my husband, stepsister and stepdad. She acts like I’m not even there. This makes me angry. At one point my mom goes outside to smoke a cigarette im at the table with everyone and I start just talking about the hurts again, I say my mom is a narcissistic. My mom comes back inside. And for an hour. I’m complaining and she’s in the living room a few feet away saying absolutely nothing.
I leave feeling so weird. So lonely? We are now I’m 2024. I don’t have a relationship with her or my step dad really. I had to block her because she would go to Hawaii again and just living her life having a great time I was trying not to be bitter. Or angry. My step sister and step dad eventually started to question how legitimate my statements were (a lot of the meanness was when it was just my mom and I) it was so painful being misunderstood. Being told that that’s just the mom that I have. Being told that things were maybe my fault for having a problem with everything (I would always speak up when my parents would be racist and things)
I few months ago I did send her a text as a final effort. I asked why she never responded. If she wants to just leave this alone that’s okay and I will move on. And she told me that all that was on the letter were complaints. And told me about how when I was 20 I made a comment on a Facebook post about bad parenting and how everyone saw. About how embarrassed she was when people reached out to her. About how I wrote that I felt like I was in a dark environment. I didn’t know everyone saw it. I apologized for that. She told me to come over to talk because she personally has some complains about me. But she never acknowledged me. I didn’t want to go, to feel yelled at and again taken back to being a child getting yelled at.
I’m currently feeling grief. Mistrust to my family. Lonely. Jealous? About how my other siblings seem to be having a better time. How do I move on from feeling misunderstood. I feel like everyone is okay and I’m abandoned. I feel guilt for pulling my small family away from them from how hurt I am. Most times I’m okay until I see my stepsister at a family gathering that I’m never invited to. And then I’m back again to being a lonely child.

Hi everyone! I need some advice on how to deal with an unusual situation.
I signed up for a new insurance company (SF). After paying for the new plan I noticed the effective dates were incorrect and not what i had initially chosen. They were 1 day after my previous insurance coverage was going to end. I chose previous day start so they would OVERLAP but this option in the online date calendar did not stick.
Immediately I call my local agent for the first time. I said id like to keep what i have chosen and choose those same options but change start date. She insists we start a new plan and go over my coverage. I reluctantly agree only because after all she is helping me correct an error that occurred with the start date.
She goes to review my plan options. Then says something i dont even want to repeat word for word... She described several awful scenarios in attempts to guilt me into accepting the options she wanted me to have. I felt her tone with me was extremely inappropriate. I SHOULD HAVE ended the conversation there. At this point i felt shamed and pressured. I explain that im trying to keep it around a certain price while still retaining good coverage. We agreed on a lower deductible and more benefits as long as my budget is taken into consideration. I dont need or want the funeral benefits, or any of the other stuff she finessed me into getting. In the moment i told myself ill just deal with it if the price is OK to me.
I was thankful she was helping me correct the start date so didnt want to argue. I agreed to the changes and all felt okay. She did mention several times "i shouldnt be doing it this way but i want to help you" which i didnt understand and struck me as odd. I told her i really appreciated her help. She then asked for me to leave her a google review which i agreed to. I was waiting till this all settled... i never did it after what happens next. We end the call on a good note and said shes reach out to me with updates.
After WEEKS its been radio silence. I try calling the office and cannot get a live person. I stopped after several attempts and figured theyd get back to me. Nothing ever happened. I login to the online account and attempt to make a request for changes on my policy. Never heard back. Theres alot going on in my life right now so i gave up after awhile. Figured everything would work itself out and id get a final correct bill or a call someday. I was so wrong.
Several days ago i get cancellation notices due to non payment. Im furious. The billing was never figured out and they are billing me for two policies. From what the letters say they want the full amount of both or theyll cancel me on that day and my policy "could be" reinstated theyll let me know. I panicked and thought i never want to deal with or talk to them again!!! Not taking a chance of them "reconsidering" and also im not paying 2 bills one of which is way higher then expected. So.... I instantly signed up for a new policy with a new provider starting a day before this messed up policy cancels. Im covered with no gap in coverage. I have exactly the coverage i want now and no longer wish to do business with SF.
TODAY is one day after old policy cancels i get a call from my agents office. The message from secretary stated they apologize its taken so long. Theyre finally figuring out the billing and give me a balance. The number given was what i agreed to at the time of plan setup. Im OK with paying that.
My question is how to proceed and deal with this billing? Id like it taken care of and pay what i owe WITHOUT having to speak to anyone at that office. Should i call the 1800 number or would they just forward me to the office? It may sound childish but theres no way i feel comfortable dealing with anyone at that branch ever again. Nor will i give them my bank card info or anything. Ill mail in a check or pay by CC online if i have to but not to that agents office. They made me feel like crap all through the process. I dont want to explain all this to customer service or file any complaints. How can i cancel, pay this off, and move on? From the letter i got its cancelled as of yesterday. The call today took me by total surprise.
Thanks for sticking with me thru all this. Any advice is appreciated.

My medical provider made an error on a visit. They sent a claim that was a doctors visit. It was a blood draw and not a doctor's visit (3rd 2nd claim for 2023). As such, HealthNet, my insurance, had 4 visits for 2023. So my 4th visit I got a bill for $550 dr visit and $150 xray.
I been trying to resolve this for about 3 weeks with HealthNet. Taking a long time because I only have so much time during the day and week to be on hold and talk to them. Also, every time I talk to someone it is someone from outside USA and we keep going in circles.
So, I had my insurance broker contact HealthNet for a list for all dr visit. They do see a possible mistake. But it will take them 30-45 days to review and give a respond.
In the meantime, I called my med provider to try to put a hold on my account and let them know that the insurnace may reprocess the claim. However, they told me that the last claim (4th), was sent to a debt collector.
My question is do I contact the debt collector and tell them the situation? I haven't received any calls/emails from them. I looked at my piles of letter and one is from them 04/2023.
Since the error is on my Medical provider and or HealthNet, will my credit be affected ?
This is my first time being in debt collections.
The $150 should I pay directly to debt collector or medical provider? If I do this will they start calling me for the $550?

Red Seas Under Red Skies by Scott Lynch, Reminiscence: By Their Own Rope to Chapter 7
Welcome back to Tal Verrar, where the artifice is real and the pirates are fake. Let's see if we know the Gentlemen Bastards’ business this week.
Summary
Six months since the last Reminiscence, Locke has locked up the mysterious chairs and is with Jean in Vo Samara. Jean brought rope which was secured around a thick tree trunk. They're practicing getting to the vault. They used harnesses and a safety line to rappel down the cliff.
Someone calls down to them from the top. He'd steal their coats and chop the ropes. He was a highwayman always on the lookout for people to rob. He called them heretics and cut one of Locke’s lines. Jean tried to throw a knife at him, but only the hilt hit. Then the thief fell off the cliff onto Locke’s harness. Jean grabbed the bandit by the hair, and Locke held a knife to his throat.
His name was Trav, and he was unemployed. Jean made it up first and hauled them up. Locke berates the incompetent thief. He left a purse of silver for him. He could be helpful to them later if he remembered their kindness. It had been eighteen months since anyone tried to kill them.
In the present day, they eat breakfast at The Gilded Cloister. They discuss the attack last night and who might want them dead. Merrain is dressed as a waitress and hands them a bill and a note to meet where they first met. They are on their guard all the way there. They enter an abandoned shop where four men in gray cloaks and hats wait for them. The four men are decoys. Jean and Locke don their own cloaks and hats and get in a carriage.
Merrain is already in their carriage. They will head to the docks. They hoist themselves into a boat filled with rowers. Merrain is the coxswain. They enter the Sword Marina and the stone walls of the bay. A man meets them there and says it's a fool's mission. He's Caldris the ship's master. He leads them to a dinghy in a “pissing-pond” for practice. Stragos had tricked him with poisoned wine, too, so he “volunteered” his services.
Every ship must have a woman officer and a cat for luck. They have a kitten but don't need the woman yet. Caldris cut their palms with a knife and put a slice of bread over it as part of a ritual to the deity Iono Stormbringer. They practice rowing for hours. He bet them that they would capsize, and he won.
Locke is exhausted, but he has to see Requin and give him the chairs and tell him of the voyage. Merrain almost didn't let him go. After two hours, he and the chairs go to see Requin. He waits at the service entrance and pays a servant to get him Selendri. She used to be an Eye of the Archon before her injury.
Requin loves the chairs. Locke says he won them in a card game. He tells Requin that he'll be away for a while to find a lockpicker named “Calo Callas.” Requin makes him promise to tell him of any more plans right away.
They learn how to use a Verrari/Camorri quadrant (sextant) among other navigational instruments, books, and charts. Stragos and Merrain pay a visit to fit his uniform. He must look the part of a Captain at least for a day.
The ship The Red Messenger is in the harbor one day. It was seized from a man who tried to smuggle in stiletto wasps. The enormity of his task hit Locke as he boarded for the first time. Two weeks of training had prepared him to climb the ropes to the mast and sails. Caldris was feeling his age as they climbed down. Luckily the captain and the master stay on deck.
Jean found Locke in a sailor’s bar trying to get drunk and forget anything nautical for a night. (Wrong place for it.) Six watchmen entered and caused tension. The bar patrons were hostile, so one of the watchmen left some money for a round on him and all left. Locke and Jean give their free dark ale to a dockworker woman. The woman was choking and gagging. One the bar workers had put some poison (and not salt) in the drinks!
A ship leech used Locke’s stiletto to perform a tracheotomy on her so she could breathe. It was too late, though. The barkeeper accused the doctor of killing her. The other sailors demand he apologize. Then he drank some ale to prove it wasn't deadly. Jean asked where the second assistant was. Authorities would be called, so Jean and Locke made their exit. The free ale was a cover, and the watchmen were used by someone trying to kill them. The Priori did it.
Jean catches a man in the alleyway. He's an Eye, but who can be sure anymore? They want him to send a message to Merrain that they need a place to stay and protection.
They check out of the inn, and Locke sends a note to Requin. Caldris is even harder on them in his training. All three devise hand signals for when they can't speak among the crew. Caldris and Merrain are impressed by Locke's acting prowess.
Later on, Locke and Jean knock out a guard with a hood full of a sedative. A tower is their destination. Stragos had brought one of his own ships for them to do a demonstration. They sail to Windward Rock where a prison tower stands. That's where Stragos locked up the other Captain for stealing and treachery. He says that this Captain is Locke.
In the tower, Locke hands his papers to a woman who shows them to the lieutenant behind a desk. His pseudonym is Orrin Ravelle. He and Jean are there to see the prisoners. They both attack the guards. A poison called witfrost will put them asleep for the night.
Stragos tells Locke about Highpoint Citadel Gaol and Windward Rock. He has arranged for Ravelle to have a paper trail. He will find his crew in Windward Rock. The prisoners were in one large cell. Locke tells them that he chose them to be his crew. (Stragos chose 44 and made their lives miserable so they would want to leave and be on his crew. Four were women and got too sick, or so he said.)
Locke promises them equal shares of any plunder and freedom from the hell cell. They clamber to join.
Caldris had a bad feeling about the voyage if there won't be any women on board and no basket of cats.
Prisoner Jabril is made acting mate. Two younger prisoners row a boat out to a bigger boat. They all board and sail to the Red Messenger.
Merrain had hidden nearby, and after they all left, she snuck into the tower and killed the guards except the two on the top floor.
Locke pretends to knock out the guard on the ship. Duties are assigned. The guard is placed in the smaller boat. Some of the men were on the ship before and were assigned topmen. So starts their voyage. Locke was having fun playing the part of rogue Captain.
They sight sails on day three, but it's too early to be pillaging. Locke orders them to practice archery. Caldris estimates that they'll make it to the Ghostwinds in two weeks.
The crew drank and partied, playing knife throwing games. Locke saw bioluminescent ghostly things called flit-wraiths. Caldris had seen unbelievable things out on the sea. Two of the islands’ populations were destroyed: one by fire during a war and one by some kind of monster from the jungle.
The crew notices there are no cats. Locke had forgotten them on shore. (Uh-oh!) He tells them they're shy and hiding. Caldris is tired and gets little sleep. He is pissed off that there's no cats. The crew will mutiny if they find out. They'll have to fight another ship just for the cats. (They better hope it rains cats and dogs.)
A storm is brewing. The crew ready the ship and its supplies. Locke and Jean spend rare time alone in the stern cabin. Caldris feebly knocks at the door, and has a heart attack. He dies just as the storm hits. (Double uh-oh!)
Extras
Marginalia
Parts of a ship
Ship's cats
Ship's cats in hammocks
St Corella’s fire is actually St Elmo's Fire.
Larboard used to mean left.
Navigate back here May 23 for Part 2, Chapters 8-11. Questions are in the comments.

Dear Gambling Addiction,
I love to write so I thought I would write you a letter today. It has been almost 16 years since we last met, and to be honest, I don't miss you one bit.
There was a time when you were the only thing that mattered. I would do anything for you. Lie, cheat, steal, not eat, not sleep, or anything really. When I say you were the only thing, you were. I was obsessed with you. You plagued my thoughts and made me feel things that were uncomfortable.
Prior to being introduced to you, I was a moral person. I liked helping people and I was happy. I had friends, good relationships with my family, people trusted me, I worked, and I had money to pay my bills.
When you entered my life on my 21st birthday, I was partially intrigued but mostly I was frustrated. I lost $20 in about one minute on a craps table. I wanted my $20 back because I was not clear on why I lost the money. And the game of craps did not make sense to me. I thought if I was going to gamble again, I would play slots. So much easier and all I had to do was pull a handle.
In these very early stages, I did not think about you much. I believe though that you were there in my brain maybe trying to figure out how to get me more engaged. Maybe you were there attempting to entice me with needing to win back that $20.
A few years later, I found another friend to spend my time with and their name was cocaine. Well, living in Las Vegas when one could not sleep because of the drugs, the casinos were there with bright, flashing lights and the intrigue of winning money. So I met you again, and discovered that playing video poker machines was a great way to spend my time while high.
This was the start of our relationship that lasted quite a while.
In the beginning stages of my addiction with you, I was able to have some fun and enjoyed most of the times I had with you. Over time though, you consumed my soul. I did not care whether I lived or died. I just needed to be with you and I loved only you.
Our relationship lasted 14 years in total with breaks during some of that time, but even when I was not playing, I was still thinking about you. Wondering how I could get together with you again. Money was usually the main reason why I could not connect with you, but I also found it more challenging to find places to visit you.
Honestly, over time my relationship with you became rather tedious and boring. I started to feel like I might need to separate myself from you. I did not know why I was feeling this way, but on some level I just wanted something different for myself. I was tired of lying to people about you, and I was getting frustrated with being broke all the time. There was also this emptiness that even you could not fill. Most importantly, my real relationship with my husband was beginning to suffer. I did care about him and he really became more important than you. Sometimes I felt like I cheated on him with you. I do believe that my moral compass was questioning all that I was doing with you, and it just was beginning to not feel right.
On June 24, 2008 I decided to end my relationship with you. This was a very hard thing for me to do. After all, you were the only important thing in my life and I just wanted to be with you as much as possible. But on a sleepless night in June, I was watching my husband sleep and felt this overwhelming desire to be with him and not you. I felt like I could no longer lie to him about us. These feelings were quite overwhelming too almost to the point of if I didn't tell him about us, I might go crazy. There were just so many emotions running through me, and I decided to break it off with you. When he woke up, I told him everything about us.
June 24, 2008 was the best day and the hardest day of my life! I knew that once I told my husband everything that I would need to let you go. It was definitely a hard decision to make but I could not go on living or being with you.
The first few days of not having you in my life were a whirlwind of emotions. I do not recall another time when I cried so much. As I talked to others about us, I did start to feel better. And I went to meetings where others were talking about their own relationships with something similar to ours. The details were different but similar in that all of us wanted to end our relationships.
Over the weeks and months that followed, I continued to go to meetings and was learning to live without you. I had a lot to process and many feelings to address. Fortunately I had a lot of support from family and friends, but I did have to work on regaining their trust. When you cheat, people do not easily trust again. And I had to give up my finances to my husband. That was okay because I simply did not want to see you again or be tempted by you. Without access to cash or credit cards, it was just a little bit easier to let you go.
I also found that I needed to give up some control over certain things. First it was the finances. Then I discovered letting go was also needed. I started to let go of things that I could not control, and fixing the things I could. My focus was specifically on how to rebuild after a tumultuous relationship with you.
I worked every day to learn to live without you. I learned to feel my feelings and process them instead of covering them up by playing with you. I learned how to think more productively and to make goals for myself. I learned how to manage my finances and I was slowly regaining trust from my husband and others.
The work was hard but I kept going. I just did not want you in my life any longer, and no matter how I felt or what I thought, I was not going to re-engage with you. I was working a program of recovery and very proud of each day that I did not want to be with you. There were some days I thought about you, but it ended there. Just thoughts that were quickly replaced with all the positive benefits of not having you in my life.
All these years later, I still think about you but not in the ways you would want. I just have thoughts about how wonderful my life is without you. I have no urges to see you, and nothing that I can think of would bring me back to you. I have too much to lose now.
In a way, I do thank you for being in my life. I believe I am a better person for knowing you. You taught me what a person is capable of during a relationship with you, and with that, I can help others now. Our relationship also opened my mind to the human spirit and how resilient we really are. We can overcome great obstacles and learn to live without you or others like you.

Hi everyone, I have received admission from a business school in Germany for winter intake 2024. I have paid the first semester fee. Since it's a paid program I need to show proof of funds for second semester during the visa process. The visa website mentions that I can put that second semester fee as unblocked money in the blocked account.
This is where it gets complicated, I have a relative in Germany who is willing to give Verpflichtungserklärungen ( formal obligation letter saying he will take care of my bills and everything). So if he gives the above, I don't have to get a blocked account. But how do I show the proof of funds for second semester fee? Can I show it through my Indian account or my sponser should show it in his German bank account?
my_qualifications - BE CSE 3 years of experience as a cloud software engineer.

Good Afternoon everyone,
Currently I have a claim in for multiple issues and it seems like we're at the tail end of the process. But I received a letter in the mail earlier this week regarding my joint pain claim.
It states, "we have received your claim for joint pain, could you be more specific."
It does not include any other information regarding a form or a request for additional evidence.
Do they want a personal letter from me? Or a doctor?
Any bit of information helps, as I'm not exactly sure how they would like me to proceed.
TIA, Bill

Bill riccio boat lettering

NY/FL-based ChatGPT+ User still no memory access?

GIG-WORKERS LIKE ME NEED YOUR HELP!!!

Please, contact the Seattle City Council directly - [council@seattle.gov](mailto:council@seattle.gov)

And stay connected for updates through Working Washington - https://actionnetwork.org/letters/protect-gig-worker-minimum-wage

GIG-WORKERS LIKE ME NEED YOUR HELP!!!

Please, contact the Seattle City Council directly - [council@seattle.gov](mailto:council@seattle.gov)

And stay connected for updates through Working Washington - https://actionnetwork.org/letters/protect-gig-worker-minimum-wage