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So, if you’re just joining us, I work at a haunted zoo now. Since I’ve gotten some rest, it feels like I’ve got my head on straight, at least, so I’d like to continue where I left off.
I sat on the floor in the office after meeting the ghost until I’d settled my rattled mind (and realized I’d forgotten to ask her name, how rude is that?). I took a deep breath and got up off the floor. Walking over and falling into the rolling chair in front of the large screen of camera views, when I brought up the camera that covered the area in which I’d spotted her, she was still there, and it seemed she hadn’t moved an inch.
Sitting there, at a loss, I continued to watch her. The ghost hung around for another five minutes or so, appearing to look at a few things off-screen, though I’m not sure what. Then she walked off into the forest and left the view of the cameras. I wasn’t sure if she vanished into the ether or if she’d gone looking into the trees to look for something.
But that wasn’t the end of the job interview, so let me jump back there. It continued into what kind of animals the zoo had, with Andrew asking me how much experience I had with dangerous animals.
I took a moment to consider the question. “So, ah…I’ve been going hunting and fishing with a neighbor since I was sixteen,” I told him. “We always have to keep an eye out for gators, bears, and hogs. Then there’s snakes, of course…snapping turtles… Since I’ve lived here my whole life and been aiming for a job with wildlife for a long time, I know a lot about the animals in Arkansas in general. But good advice for all of the above is avoid them, so I’ve had encounters, but I don’t know if you’d say I have experience with them.”
“That’s fine,” Andrew said, nodding. “That’s an answer I’m satisfied with. Now, the ghost was the appetizer, Ripley; here’s the main course. To start with, the pay isn’t twenty-five an hour. It’s fifty.”
Staring in shock for a moment, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. But that’d be weird to post online considering what applicants think we need, so I halved it.”
“That’s… Okay, why?”
“The animals are already here. You just can’t see them.”
I stared at him for a long moment, some disbelief worming its way into my expression, before saying, “Sorry, what?”
“There’s a chance you’d naturally never see them, or at least some of them,” he continued casually. “It depends on both your genetics and how long you stay on the job. I can naturally see six of them, but that’s it. Suzanne can see all of them, and more. Some are what people would label demons or ghosts. Or magic. Mostly you’d call them cryptids. The ghost was just a warm-up; I mentioned her first because it never takes more than a week to see her if you work the night shift. If you manage to handle her okay, soon you’ll be able to see the animals too. The more time you spend on the grounds, for weird reasons,” he said, wiggling his fingers in the direction of the back door, “the more you’ll be able to see.”
“So, this…this is a zoo for cryptids,” I echoed slowly. He nodded once, waiting to find out what kind of reaction I would have. I gestured vaguely around the room. “If this is a hidden camera show, will you cut me a check for showing up and participating?”
Andrew coughed out a chuckle and shook his head. “No joke. There are a ton of stories out there that have been written to death, pulverized until they’re not the Grimm stories of old and instead they’re Disney films. A lot of those stories come from what some humans have seen. There are dozens of other worlds pressed up against ours, and occasionally things come through by accident. If they’re smart, they’ll lay low and then make their way back when they can. If not, they become local folklore until someone helps them back. I’m just from London, but Suzanne is from somewhere else. She hires people like us for this zoo. Humans.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “That makes no sense. Why would she hire a muggle for a magic zoo?”
Andrew burst out laughing at that, and then waited to gather himself before he continued. “Fair point, but this is less about magic and more about animals, and you’re missing some information that will explain it. First of all, if I misjudge an employee, and they think they can make bank by outing the endangered and valuable animals we have, it’s easy to relocate the zoo.”
“Because magic?” I asked.
“Exactly,” he replied, ignoring the thread of skepticism in my tone. “That means it isn’t the end of the world if that happened, though it is a pain in the arse. But second…let me ask you a question. Speaking of reality shows, say the Discovery Channel put out a call to replace Steve Irwin when he passed. Imagine they had a line out the door,” he said with a gesture, “of people who thought they had the skill and natural talent to replace him, to take on everything he’d been doing his whole life. How many do you reckon would lose an arm, a leg, or their life, by the end of the day?”
My lips parted in surprise and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re saying people from…wherever…they’re just as dumb as humans, but they’re worse, because they actually think they can handle these things.”
Andrew pointed the pen at me. “Things. Exactly. You called them things. Suzanne and her friends grew up with them and would call them animals. These animals have dispositions and temperaments that we’ve studied for as long as there have been scientists. Where Suzanne’s from, they know the weaknesses of these animals, and also they’re in enclosures here, even if you and I can’t see the walls because they’re invisible things called ‘wards’. If I hire someone who’s got magic on top of all that, they’ll have almost no instinctive fear.
“Everything here is nocturnal, and every one of them is a hunter. Some of these things? Humans see them and they pass out. Not that I want you passing out, but I need someone who is scared of these things, who knows to stay out of the enclosures no matter what. Not someone who thinks they can train them to do tricks, who gets close enough for them to grab a mouthful of hair and drown them. Once, we had a night shift manager injured, and once killed, because they didn’t take these animals seriously enough.”
Thinking back to the Sea World orca incident I knew he’d been referencing, I remembered wondering how someone at that level of her profession could be so careless as I watched the video on YouTube. It made sense when he explained it like that. I hesitated before mentally throwing my hands up and going all in. “So, why put this place here, then? If they’re endangered and also dangerous, why have a zoo at all instead of just a small reserve?”
He pursed his lips, looking disappointed in me. “Ripley. You know that already. You already said as much.”
Thinking back through our conversation, I said, “The rich humans who pay top dollar to see supernatural animals.”
“Not humans,” he told me. “But people, yes, and they are rich, and they’re making donations and spending their money on a ticket here because everything we have is endangered.”
“So…”
I just let my voice trail off and my mind started to drift. Andrew remained silent, letting me do so. There’s that thing people say, ‘I believe that you believe it,’ which is just a kinder way of saying, ‘Bullshit.’ Parents say it about closet monsters. Psychologists say it to people who say they’ve been abducted and probed by aliens. I wanted to say it to Andrew.
But I also wanted a job. If it meant working overnight at an empty zoo, that was fine. When it came down to it, especially when I took the tone of our conversation into account, this was a zoo specifically focused on preserving endangered ‘animals’, and it was allegedly doing important work. Also, if this turned out to be the real deal and I started seeing the animals, I would deal with it, just like I would deal with an enclosure that had a lion or tiger or gorilla. If it came with a ghost and invisible creatures, I really didn’t see what the difference was, if I couldn’t go in the enclosures either way.
On that note, I’d like you to imagine a kid who looks at a roller coaster, watching everyone screaming and grinning as they go up and down and all around and they’re like, ‘Heck, I could do that! That looks like a blast!’
Then they get on, the first drop hits, and they realize they’ve made a terrible mistake.
“All right,” I sighed. “I can’t say I’m going to turn down a job just because it’s going to be scary. Especially not one with this paycheck.”
Andrew smiled. “Awesome. There’s an adjustment process for anyone working here, similar to a dog that gets adopted, actually. I know the general guidelines of, ‘three days, three weeks, three months’ in terms of milestones, until they finally feel they’re where they’re supposed to be,” he told me, “and you can think of your time here along those lines. I really think you’re a great fit, and once you reach the milestone of working here for three months, I’ll officially consider you our new night shift guard. And I hope you’ll stay with us for many years.”
I nodded and smiled at the flattery of an employer wanting me to work a great job for them for a long time. I’d never had a dog, but those milestones were well-known among anyone who knew animals, especially dogs. The first three days, the dog is getting to know its new digs, exploring, and decompressing. At three weeks, they’ve gotten used to their environment and are starting to get comfortable with their surroundings and the routines of the humans they live with. By three months, they know the rules and follow them, they trust you, and they feel they are where they’re meant to be. I could only hope to be so lucky.
I saw the ghost two days ago and she has yet to make another appearance (for those who are curious, I asked, and her name is Leila), and I still hadn’t seen any animals. I did hear one, though, I feel compelled to note. A growling roar sounded from the lake on occasion, echoing across the vast zoo, sending a shiver down my spine. Whatever that animal was, it sounded gigantic.
Andrew said there was apparently a group that wanted to visit for a birthday and they were offering a huge donation, so he let me know they were making an exception and that this group would be walking through the park that night. That meant I’d be watching people watching animals that, as far as I could tell, weren’t there.
It was anticlimactic. Even the three people who came for the tour just looked like people, not like aliens or something eldritch from another dimension, and I stayed in the security office the whole time. Andrew was the one giving the tour. I watched them spend about five minutes at each enclosure, the hour or so that they were there passing without incident. It was clear that they were able to see all the animals, though, since they motioned excitedly at each enclosure and spoke to Andrew, who presumably answered any questions they had.
If they could see the animals, that was that. There was still that niggle in the back of my head, from my twenty-three years of life never encountering anything like ghosts or cryptids, telling me that this was ridiculous. Waiting for someone to knock on the door, a camera mounted on their shoulder, to tell me that it was a big joke and they wanted to see how long I’d play along. But from all I saw, this was a real place with real, invisible animals.
I do carry a taser and pepper spray in my capacity as a security guard. Though it isn’t for the animals, since they’re in the enclosures; they’re actually for the rare instance of a break-in. Andrew mentioned that it had happened several times it the past, someone trying to steal an animal in the hopes of selling it on the black market. They’d been successful before, but apparently my predecessor Roger was good at his job, and mostly they left in handcuffs.
I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of confrontation, but my job was to call Andrew and then confront the person, not kick their ass. That’s what the police were for, or rather, the people Andrew would call in lieu of police in certain situations.
Fifty bucks an hour. That’s the key here.
Andrew hadn’t set up direct deposit, since he was sticking with a strategy of waiting to see if I’d continue to work there once I found out myself dealing with the animals (I’ve decided I am going to just call them animals). Instead, I got an old-fashioned check after my shift every Friday. The number on the first check was delightful. I went out that evening and had a big dinner at the local diner, order my most expensive favorites on the menu and a big slice of pie for dessert.
When it came to the paychecks in general, though, I had this weird feeling of not wanting to tell my dad and brother about the fact that it was actually $50/hr. I previously mentioned that my dad, his name’s Nathan if you’re curious, works at a local grocery store. Our town has a couple food franchises, but I think its size is just short of whatever threshold Walmart uses to decide where to open. He earns $14/hr. and that’s after the tiny raises he’s gotten over the past thirteen years.
That’s not to say he’d feel bad about not making as much as me. On the contrary, he would be ecstatic for me and really proud. But, like me, he’d be suspicious. That hourly rate was the biggest hint that this was more than just a private zoo for cryptids. And as soon as that fat check cleared without problems, my dad wouldn’t be satisfied with reassurances; he’d want to come visit the zoo and look around.
I’d told him it’s a private preservation with scheduled (expensive) visits only and that it had only eleven animals, so he’d been appeased by me brushing off the idea of a visit. Also, I took a few photos of my workplace; one of the security room, one of me sitting in my chair, one photo of the many screens I watched, and a selfie where I was feigning sleep out of boredom, slouched in my chair with my mouth open in a faux snore. That let him feel like he knew where I was and what I was doing, and that I was safe.
But if I told him I was making double what he thought, my father would practically order me to quit. No job was worth my safety, he’d tell me. I was quite of the opposite opinion, however, considering how crucial any and all conservation efforts were these days. Especially with the steep extinction levels due to humans competing with other animals for space, not to mention climate change. Working in any job that helped preserve species and keep ecosystems in balance, or put them back in balance, was so important.
Then again, my father would also point out something I had realized right away: the fact was that I was working with endangered species that were not from Earth. I wasn’t helping my planet. To be honest, though…that didn’t matter to me. Especially after that talk with Andrew about why he hired a human for this job, I figured whichever dimension these animals came from had the equivalent of us, razing forests to the ground, clouding the planet with pollution, and leaving the animals with no avenue of recourse when yet more land was taken from them.
I really do hope to keep working here for a long time, though, and not just because of the money. I can’t help it; I want to know what these things were, and I want to work with them, to do the job of a zookeeper. The same way you go up to the chain-link fence to get close to a carnivore on the other side who thinks you’d make a nice afternoon snack. You just want to be closer to them, to experience that incredible, daunting feeling of being in their presence.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before I got what I wanted.
The day after we had the tour go through, I was doing my sweep when I saw the ghost again. She was sitting on a small boulder in the same area I’d seen her the first time, looking identical, blood covering the front of her slashed shirt, the wounds visible underneath. I stopped and stood there for a moment before I decided to raise my hand in a small wave.
The young woman cocked her head at me and raised a hand in the air in an imitation of my gesture, her expression showing a bit of curiosity.
She was low-key, seemingly not concerned with my presence, looking at me as a novel phenomenon in her world. I wondered what that world consisted of. Was she always here, sometimes visible and sometimes not? Or did she have another world next to ours, in the ether, where she left everything in this world behind and floated in her disembodied form? Did she still feel emotions? Was that really curiosity on her face, or was I projecting? Did she feel happiness? Fear? Did she have the option of moving on, or was she stuck here?
Many questions that I might never get the answers to. And that was assuming Andrew knew the answers, since I’d never met Suzanne Cooper and he hadn’t even mentioned that possibility. This place was clearly her baby, but I’m sure running it was a lot of work. Plus, if she was rich enough to own it, she was rich enough to have other businesses and charities to run.
When it comes to the enclosures, they’re all wrapped by a barrier of some kind, though never one that seems adequate. There was not a single place with the ugly metal weavings of a chain-link fence, and no stretches of circular razor wire. Instead, there are nice fences. Black iron, or wrought steel fencing in a similar style to the one circling the perimeter of the zoo, just shorter and with different patterns. Or a spaced picket fence, the wood stained in some tone of brown, or a split two-rail fence. As if to say, ‘This is the border of your enclosure, but we’re just letting you know out of courtesy.’
When I started to pass enclosure number seven last night, a young woman’s voice spoke, “Hello.”
I startled, unaware that I hadn’t been alone. “Oh. Hi,” I said, staring at her standing a few yards in.
She had been next to a large tree and I hadn’t seen her. This enclosure was behind a picket fence, and she walked through the large area of wild grasses and flowers that stretched across the other side of the fence. There were fewer tall grasses closer to the fence, which I guessed was because it had been tromped down by her regular pacing along it when there were visitors, or if she wanted to see the various enclosures of the zoo. Her sudden appearance was a bit weird, considering I had been expecting to see a cryptid and instead I was looking at, it seemed, an attractive Asian woman.
She wore a black kimono, the soft silk robe draped gently over her body, with beautiful patterns of cherry blossoms, more so over her left side, and red and blue birds with their wings spread. A sash wrapped around her abdomen, she wore socks and sandals on her feet, and her hair was up in those rolls that gave volume to the style.
I was no expert on any fashion, much less that of another country, so I just assumed it was all traditional Japanese clothing. Most likely, the visitors who came liked to see a certain time-honored style and that’s what she stuck with. Or maybe she played on stereotypes. That would be amusing.
“I’m Yui. It’s nice to meet you,” she spoke, arriving at the border of the fence and holding out a hand for me to shake.
I’d been standing about three yards away from her, and I’ll be honest, muscle memory tried to kick in. But I only made it two steps, my hand starting to rise, before I froze, the hand falling limply at my side. “Nice to meet you, too,” I answered, my voice quiet.
Damn. I wonder how many times that honey trap works back where she comes from.
The pleasant look on her face faded, and she lowered her hand. “You won’t shake hands with me? Isn’t that rude?”
“I mean, I kind of like my hand where it is. You know, attached to me.”
Her demure smile widened into something more amused. “I would never do something so revolting.”
Looking her up and down, as if more visual information would give me more knowledge of what she was, I asked her, “What would you do?”
“I would be less wasteful,” she said softly.
A finger of ice trailed down my spine, and I had the sudden image in my head of her grabbing my outstretched hand in an iron grip and yanking me over the fence, leaving me to sprawl on the ground. Then killing and consuming me efficiently, without a single careless step, the same way humans slaughtered pigs, using everything from the hog but the squeal. I was struck with a shiver at the idea of her consuming everything from me but my screams.
Slowly, I took one step further down the path, then another. Just as I got to a walking pace, though, I realized the woman had started walking too, in the same direction. I’d have eventually gotten to the end of her enclosure and keep going, leaving her behind, but she spoke up. “Are you leaving?”
I came to a stop, meeting her gaze again. “My job is to walk the zoo every hour. Then I’ll get back to the security room and stay there until my next walk.”
“Have you met the others yet?”
I hesitated before saying, “Just Leila.”
She blinked languidly. “That means nobody welcomed you here.”
“Andrew did.”
She didn’t reply to that. Instead, she slowly started to lean forward, and I flinched backward a few steps further as I saw insect legs start curling out from her back.
No. Not insect. Arachnid.
The eight legs ended in small ‘paws’ with tiny claws, a layer of hairs covering the leg from top to bottom, like any typical tarantula. I took two more slow steps back and my mouth went dry as the jointed legs just kept lengthening, until they were large enough to lever her off the ground.
My gaze had been on the spider legs, but my heart skipped a beat as I realized her human legs had melded together and turned into a bulging abdomen. Her skin was shifting to a carapace, eventually all the way up to her shoulders and down her arms, her fingers elongating and her nails stretching to claws. From there down, her body was that of a pale tarantula with pedipalps the size of my arms and piercing fangs in her jaws that looked like they could take my head off.
There was a moment, my vision blurring, where I was worried that I might piss myself. The part of my brain that still had its humor intact in that moment told me that I should keep an emergency set of clothes in my car, or at the very least, start wearing Depends to work.
“I show you my true form,” she said softly, her voice now raspy like an eighty-year-old after a lifelong smoking habit. “Welcome to Suzanne Cooper’s zoo. The night shift guard for many years was Roger, before he retired and the zoo moved, and I miss him dearly. What should I call you?”
I choked on my words. There was no way my throat was going to cooperate enough for me to clearly get a sentence out. Instead, I realized my legs had taken control of the situation themselves, unsatisfied with my conscious brain’s decision to stand and stare, taking steps backward. I backed up a yard, then five yards, then ten.
My mind focused on the fact that spiders don’t waste anything, and pictured my demise. I’d be wrapped in a cocoon, killed, and made nice and mushy before she had me for dinner.
The whole time, my brain was a frenzied mess, my pupils were probably the size of dimes, and I was staring at that tiny, pathetic fence between her and me. There was so much adrenaline pumping through my body that I felt like my bones were vibrating. The fence was, to my eyes, the only thing between us. The only thing keeping her from tackling and killing me. My only hope was that she’d do it quickly.
But she didn’t move. As I absorbed her innocent, polite words, the look on her face was calm, and I wondered if this was typically the way a conversation went before she devoured her prey. I wondered how many people she’d eaten. Not humans, not people from Earth, but the ones from where she came from. The fact that she doesn’t scare the shit out of those people means they’re staggeringly dumber than humans.
Finally, I rounded a corner, both relieved at having her out of my sight and worried that she would take that moment to come find me. When she’d been within eyeshot, I had at least known where she was and could run in the other direction. But I didn’t hear the sound of faint footsteps moving rapidly toward me. All was quiet, in that deep, smothering way that only an empty business in the middle of the night in small town America could be.
My hands trembling, I barely paid attention to anything but the confirmation that my surroundings were free of the colossal spider as I finally got back to the door. Grabbing the handle and letting my eyes dart around for about ten seconds and my ears prick for the slightest sound, I finally swiped my key card across the pad and went inside, shutting the door behind me and engaging the backup deadbolt.
Maybe that was why they had decided on keycards. If I was running from something and panicking, using an actual key or inserting the card like at a hotel would keep me from getting to safety considering my hands were shaking enough to mix a margarita.
Walking over to my chair, I fell into it, letting my body flush itself of terror as I looked up at the cameras. There she was, still in arachnid form, exactly where I’d left her behind that rinky-dink fence, casually looking around and slowly pacing back and forth. I stared at her as my racing heart gradually slowed, and a minute or so later she turned on her eight legs and walked back into the trees.
Whatever invisible fences the enclosures have apparently work, which is nice, because I wasn’t keen on getting killed by one of the creatures here. And that’s what brings me here, spilling out everything that’s happened so far. Because nearly passing out from terror isn’t something I wanted to deal with at work, obviously, but I keep going over what she did in my head again and again, and I feel like I reacted like a child who spotted a wolf spider on their bed. I started to worry for my overactive sense of self-preservation, at least in my capacity as an employee here.
The spider didn’t even try to hurt me, and so I was feeling a bit foolish. Even annoyed, actually, at the fact that I’d freaked out so hard and took off instead of trying to engage in at least basic conversation. I got the sense that she wasn’t at human-level intelligence, but I was never going to be able to hold any level of conversation with an alligator.
Sure, she did mention that she wouldn’t be so crass as to yank off my hand because she’d rather just have my entire corpse, but wouldn’t a wolf do the same if it was hungry? Wouldn’t any carnivore? Actually, they probably would’ve been satisfied with one of my hands. The fear here was from the fact that she turned into a giant spider. If she’d turned into Clifford, I would’ve reacted the same way, if not better than, meeting Leila.
With that, I decided I’m staying on the job. Considering how frustrated I can get with foolish people, it’s a bit hypocritical, and I’m being a bit of an idiot. But…there are definitely wards keeping them in their enclosures. Also, I signed up for creatures for another dimension, whether or not I believed in them at the time, and I will not let encountering my first one in an objectively boring way be the reason I quit.
The money is a factor, I’ll grant you. Of course it is. And I can’t spend it if I’m dead, but all signs point to surviving as long as I don’t do anything dumb. Also, yes, I’ll admit there’s a not-so-little voice in the back of my head that’s desperate to know what else is here. I never thought I’d do something like this, but finding out these things are real, I honestly do want to learn more about them.
Still, though, I decided to call Andrew at the end of my shift to ask if the pepper spray and taser I carried worked on a certain spider, as well as the other animals I’d yet to meet.
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/storiesbykaren

*If anyone takes the time to read and would like to share, feel free to repost and accept the credit, I don't have enough karma to share anywhere else relevant and could care less. All I ask is that you repost it in full and not cherry pick the information you agree or disagree with or whatever will get the most karma. I would like to avoid exactly what I'm describing in the post below. If any claims I make turn out to be false, I'll update and eat my words.*
(I obscured celebrity and influencer names to prevent fans from seeing the post and flagging it)
I saw someone posted an interview with (O *rlando Brow *n) from the channel Real life street Stars and wanted to put out a little PSA for this community. The channel has recently been growing in subscribers because of a 2020 interview with a 90's R&B artist named (J -aguar W r:ight ), who claims to have suffered abuse of all types that she during her time in the industry, and claims she was blacklisted for fighting back. Now she claims she's been on a mission for the last 20 years to bring down the vast networks of famous sex criminals she has firsthand knowledge of. In her first two interviews she speaks pretty eloquently and drops a lot of facts about the industry. Enough to get people sucked in. You'll see in her latest interviews the lady is clearly struggling heavily with some serious mental health and rumored substance issues.
I truly have empathy for her and (O rland,o B row-n,) because they are obvious examples of the Hollywood machine chewing up celebrities, especially with mental illness, and spitting them out. Both of them have publicly struggled for years, and around 2020, were both homeless and started doing YouTube interviews with obscure content creators where they were paid next to nothing to share their traumas with their viewers and creators who use these traumas to form false narratives and clickbait video titles that either are completely false or that are buried in an 8 hour live stream containing a thirty second audio clip that was stolen and reposted from another exploitative content creator's interview. Not only is it taking money out of their pockets, but also monetizing off their trauma, stealing their content and viewers, and harming their credibility even further due to them being blatantly false or misleading the viewers into thinking their all day live stream talking about the aforementioned video and accompanied by a slideshow is the primary source. One thing I've learned is most people will believe or immediately dismiss most information without even trying to read it. If you choose to go down this rabbit hole you should definitely start with their Insta pages and check out the last couple months. Without people majorly censoring and heavily editing their content, you can tell that they are doing this intentionally to hide the fact they are exploiting trauma survivors for petty cash. If you're still not wary, start with their latest interviews they're both total shit shows. Recently with the (Di +ddy stuff and Ka;tt William ,s) interview going viral, the channel "real life street stars" has blown up. Even more so in the last couple weeks with all the K- Anon stuff attracting people to their channels. If you choose to go down the rabbit hole I just beg you to please research ANY claims from ANY content creator and find a source before sharing. A lot of the time they are spitting celebrity fan fiction juxtaposed with occasional pieces of truth and (Jagua /r Wri /ght) was pretty damn convincing until about a year ago.
A lot of people get sucked in with ( Jag !uar W !right's ) first two interviews because she clearly had them prepared for a long time and was reading from a script. Now she's just exploiting the algorithm and spamming clickbait interviews with the craziest titles possible, thus contributing to the same exploitation she claims to be fighting against. This is not to say all her claims are bullshit, both most are recycled 90s and early 2000's gossip that is new to Gen z mixed with any breaking celebrity news or gossip that is big in the media. To make her stories sound more legit she'll Forrest Gump her way into every story and leading people into believing she was a big time celebrity, but these interviews and her instragram scamming are what she's most known for. The last interview she claims to have taken a boat to Epstein Island where she rescued two young girls who were trafficked and then talks about the Dark Web, "Red Rooms," that are pretty well known to be internet myths because if they were real they'd be invite only and require blackmail to access so no one is gonna talk about it even if they do exist. It amazed how many videos popped up overnight repeating her claims as facts and spreading the virus of media manipulation. If you're still thinking, "Hey, you never know!" She also claims these snuf. f videos and videos of celebrity orgies sell for 500 million dollars, which would be enough to build a whole chain of your own red rooms or throw your own Hollywood sex parties and join the fun. I know some people will probably still be curious, but just watch her 2020 interview the rest are trash, also anything with (O r.lando B,rown) is recycled lies mixed with more lies, with a couple buzzwords he's probably required to say so they can add trending topics to their video tags and get a lascivious title.
Another recent example of blatant manipulation is all the shit with (D j A ^kademics) the past couple days. His court records have been public for months with a vivid description of him and two friends drugging and raping a girl that was obviously premeditated and not his first rodeo. He is also now being sued for defamation because he pretty much told his fans she was drunk and asking for it then regretted it later and went on to say he didn't even know she was at the house until the next morning and blamed it on his friends. Meanwhile the court documents clearly show a rap with an e kit being administered and them finding his spermicide which was the same type found in the r word kit. They also describe video evidence of his two friends doing the same thing while she was unconscious, but he screenshotted a section and posted it in his defense saying clearly she was down. There are also identical allegations to the ones made against (D-rake) stating he has a history of hitting up sixteen year olds and grooming them until they turn eighteen and repeated history of similar drug related s. crimes. It took one post on his twitter and his fans started harassing the poor girl for months. The same thing happened to the lady who was a victim of (N$icki Min _aj's) husband who was doxxed by her fans for not dropping the charges. The next day AK was acting like it was all gravy and if anything gained even more followers. This is a brilliant example of why (Dra! ke's) line about being too famous to be a predator is so stupid. Almost as stupid as blatantly defaming the woman who appears to have more the enough evidence to beat him in a civil suit. Which is almost as stupid as he pretended to be during the (e- bony kin g) livestream where he was obviously ignoring the thousands of comments mentioning anything related to sexual crimes, while talking shit on the guy who successfully blackmailed his handler even after possibly being blackmailed himself on the same stream. This stupidity can only be surpassed by the millions of fans who are still watching his content instead of the news and continue regurgitating the lies of someone so fucking stupid who is most likely a s offender. These are the same ones who automatically dismissed the rumors and instantly believed the dog in the kennel story, the same who believed his alibi, and the same people who are the reason most survivors don't come forward and choose not to accept inconvenient truths right in front of their eyes.
Interestingly enough the portal.njcourts.gov site containing A.k's full court documents were offline for hours last night and a certain sight has banned reposting it for fear of doxxing, another great way to quell any dissent amongst the the ranks. Server's crashing often happens when there is a huge influx of web traffic or a site has been a victim of a DDOS attack, which is just an artificial version of the former that uses bots instead of people. I could talk forever about how fucked things are, but this is simply the world we live in. I really want to drive home the point that in order for any movement to retain credibility, everyone needs to stop sharing any type of info unless they're from a verified, reputable source and define the difference between facts and your opinions as clearly as possible. A couple million hits on youtube, twitter memes and tiktoks, and gossip blogs with broad information being deciphered by mostly idiots don't count as credible. Most of these influencers and blogs have been bought and paid for years ago and usually are biased toward certain celebrities based on the perception of whoever's sharing or whoever pays them the most. For a while now rumors have been circulating of influencers doing shady shit in Dubai for the ultra wealthy. Lot's of ties were made to Dra .ke, but have very little supporting evidence. The blind items containing the rumors also made it so anyone could decode the clues, and as soon as these posts made it on to the Kendric kl amar the moderator crew began the "conspiracy," crackdown. It took one mention of q-anon and the majority of the community jumped ship out of fear of association because "Q-anon bad, they're all scizophrenic." Overnight theories that once had been consensus were completely dismissed after being deemed conspiratorial. A couple of days later, the were forced to place a blanket ban on anything them deem, "conspiracies," regardless of it's validity due to their inability to moderate the amount of incoming posts which are almost always spammed at least ten times a day for the next week. This is the exact thing that was done with q, anon and pizzagat, e stuff back in the day. They'd find the nuttiest people to use as an example so they could paint the whole movement in the same light, then dismissed all related information, and completely censored any discussion on most major platforms. I don't subscribe to either, but they were undeniably on to something. The problem was the disinformation campaigns and general stupidity. One was quashed almost overnight because a crazy guy shot into the front window of a pizza shop and it somehow hit their computer and obliterate their hard drive containing possible evidence. The lessons is truth in every lie and it's not hard to find if you know where to look, it's what you do with it that defines who you are as a person. Some people can't handle the truth because it conflict's with their world view and those who do usually suffer because of it. If everyone does their part though, no one would have to die a martyr in its pursuit.
I've noticed a recent pattern of influencers proliferating the spread of false information especially in relation to any sa allegations. This trend really took off when (Kat -t Will/iams's) interview went viral and helped to revitalize his career and reputation. Since then many copycats have come out of the woodworks, hoping to cash in on the trend. Some other common media suppression trends and manipulation tactics to watch out for are synthetic smear campaigns dedicated to destroying the credibility of anyone with alternative beliefs, and it's gotten exponentially worse throughout the years. A great example is all the shit (Y,e). had to deal with through the years, even prior to his antisemitic remarks and all the other famous people who spoke up about their industries and were silenced. (D av+e Chapp? elle) used to talk a lot about the tactics used to humiliate and destroy many influential black men who dared to challenge the system. Another case that's similar to Ak's is the (T/or y La^ne z and M ,egan T (hee Stallio, n) trial. If you look at the court records, it's obvious the shooting was part of a larger altercation. He still might have shot her, but she at the least totally lied her ass off about the actual story to avoid incriminating friends while ensuring they could hit him with a ten year sentence. Not long after (Me ..gan THE" E S !tallion) won three Grammy's and was voted woman of the year, then disappeared off the face of the earth until her manager sued her a couple weeks ago for having sex in front of him and threatening his job over it. There are countless other celebrities and influencers who are clearly wiling to say anything for money, and those who aren't usually have some blackmail on them. There is such an abundance of glaringly obvious disinformation campaigns in the media and most are accepted as gospel without question or are suppressed if they reveal too much, raise too many questions, or start to sway public opinion. Another very common example of this phenomena is the mass release of information that paints a positive image of the celebrity while containing the same buzzwords related to controversies they don't want popping up on anywhere near the top of Google. This keeps any relevant information limited to the most recent AI generated bullshit that plays the algorithm game the best. While doing my investigation, it was unbelievably difficult finding any relevant information from before 2020, and often had to use Duckduckgo to filter out any articles written after 2023. Even then every search engine required extremely specific search terms, which would often still provide me with the exact same results. It got so bad I considered switching to Yandex.
Recently all the things I've discussed have seemingly been kicked into overdrive, especially over the last few weeks. This leads me to believe that a lot more is going down behind the scenes than most realize. I believe the day will come soon when everyone who actively fought to dismiss peoples opinions out of ignorance will be forced to accept these truths whether they like it or not I was a victim myself last week when I shared a detailed, neutral commentary on a rap feud and was shadow banned from a popular subreddit and ignored by it's moderators. This same subreddit is currently deleting any and all information related to the subject I covered. This is why I wanted to raise awareness if this doesn't get suppressed as well. Karma requirements and shadow bans that can sometimes circumvent the use of Vpn's on all connect devices, lead me to believe Reddit as a whole may also be at least partially compromised.
Chances are the same people who promote biased garbage and obvious lies are the same ones who will scroll right past any post containing more then three sentences and the ones who spread any lie they are told without question and accept everything at face value. My personal favorites are the ones who don't read past the title and clog up the comments while obscuring valuable information because they want the spark note version. This is all by design. They are the sheep the government count on to help them consolidate their wealth and power. More and more people are waking every day though. I encourage anyone new to conspiracies to really keep all this in mind going forward, especially with the proliferation of AI powered disinformation bots that dominate your front pages and control the majority of content. If you want to fight against this and keep your freedom of speech, this is a call to arms. To anyone who values the truth, the powers that be will do anything they can to try to censor any public dissidence. Remain steady in your search for truth, and learn how to effectively help other join you in lifting the veil. Stay strong in your convictions and don't allow other's to moderate your options, your beliefs, or your truth.
Thanks for Reading
-The Original Random Moniker

Love marriage specialist in india Marriage is a journey that requires love, commitment, and understanding. It’s a bond that brings two souls together, but also requires effort and dedication to maintain its sparkle. In today’s fast-paced world, relationships can be put to the test, and it’s not uncommon for couples to feel lost and disconnected from each other. But what if there was a way to unlock the secrets to a blissful marriage, and ensure that the love and passion between you and your partner only grows stronger with each passing day? Astroguru Mukesh Pandit Ji, a renowned astrologer, has spent years studying the intricacies of relationships and has developed a unique approach to help couples strengthen their bond and achieve marital harmony. In this exclusive blog post, we’ll delve into the expert insights of Astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji, who will share his secrets to a blissful marriage, revealing the astrological signs that indicate compatibility, and providing practical advice on how to nurture a loving and fulfilling relationship.

1. The role of astrology in understanding relationships

The ancient wisdom of astrology has long been revered for its ability to unravel the mysteries of the universe, and none more so than the complex tapestry of human relationships. As we embark on this journey to uncover the secrets of a blissful marriage, it is crucial to first understand the role that astrology plays in illuminating the path to a harmonious and fulfilling union. According to renowned astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji, the celestial bodies that govern our lives hold the key to unlocking the deepest desires and desires of our partners, and ultimately, to building a strong and lasting bond.
With the precision of a master astronomer, Mukesh Pandit Ji can pinpoint the precise planetary alignments that influence our emotions, behaviors, and interactions with others. By analyzing the unique astrological profiles of both partners, he can reveal hidden patterns and tendencies that shape our relationships, and offer sage guidance on how to navigate the challenges and opportunities that arise. From the intricate dance of the planets to the subtle language of body language, astrology offers a profound understanding of the intricate web of energies that surrounds us, and how we can harness this knowledge to create a marriage that is truly a reflection of our highest selves.

1. Mukesh Pandit Ji’s expert insights on blissful marriage

As an esteemed astrologer, Mukesh Pandit Ji has spent years studying the intricacies of human relationships, and his expertise in this field is unparalleled. In his extensive practice, he has helped countless couples navigate the complexities of marriage, and has gained a profound understanding of the factors that contribute to a blissful and harmonious union. According to Pandit Ji, a blissful marriage is not solely the result of compatibility or shared interests, but rather the culmination of a deep understanding of the cosmic forces that bring two individuals together. By examining the intricate web of planetary alignments and astrological influences that shape our personalities, habits, and behaviors, Pandit Ji offers a unique perspective on how couples can work together to create a sense of unity and togetherness. Love marriage specialist in india
Pandit Ji’s approach to marriage counseling is not only rooted in his vast knowledge of astrology, but also in his empathetic and compassionate nature. With a gentle yet insightful touch, he guides couples in identifying and addressing the underlying issues that may be causing tension and stress in their relationship. By providing personalized advice and guidance, Pandit Ji empowers couples to build stronger, more resilient bonds, and to cultivate a sense of love, respect, and understanding that can weather any challenge. In this section, we will delve deeper into Pandit Ji’s expert insights on blissful marriage, and explore the ways in which astrology can be used as a powerful tool for building and maintaining a happy and fulfilling relationship.

1. The importance of compatibility in marriage

As the ancient adage goes, “opposites attract,” but in the realm of marriage, it’s not just about the initial spark that draws us together. Rather, it’s about the long-term compatibility that can make or break the sanctity of the institution. Astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji, a renowned expert in the field, emphasizes the significance of compatibility in marriage, citing that it’s the foundation upon which a blissful and harmonious relationship is built. Love marriage specialist in india
When two individuals with dissimilar personalities, lifestyles, and values come together, it’s not uncommon for friction to arise. However, when they share a deep sense of compatibility, it becomes the glue that holds them together, even in the face of adversity. Mukesh Pandit Ji believes that understanding each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and emotional needs is crucial in fostering a strong bond. By doing so, couples can navigate life’s challenges with ease, empathy, and trust, ultimately leading to a more fulfilling and satisfying marriage. Love marriage specialist in india
In his extensive practice, Mukesh Pandit Ji has witnessed firsthand the transformative power of compatibility in marriage. He has worked with countless couples, guiding them through the intricacies of their birth charts and providing valuable insights into their personalities, strengths, and weaknesses. By doing so, he has helped them to better understand each other, communicate more effectively, and cultivate a deeper sense of connection and love. In the following sections, we’ll delve deeper into the expert insights of Mukesh Pandit Ji, exploring the ways in which astrology can be used to uncover the secrets of a blissful marriage.

1. How to build a strong foundation in marriage

The foundation of a blissful marriage is often overlooked, but it is the cornerstone upon which a lifelong union is built. Just as a sturdy building requires a strong foundation to withstand the test of time, a happy marriage demands a solid foundation of trust, communication, and mutual understanding. According to Astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji, understanding each other’s personalities, strengths, and weaknesses is crucial in laying the groundwork for a successful marriage.
“It is essential to recognize that each partner brings their unique set of traits to the table, and embracing these differences can be the key to a harmonious relationship,” he explains. By acknowledging and respecting each other’s individuality, couples can avoid misunderstandings and conflicts that often arise from unmet expectations. By fostering an environment of open communication, trust, and empathy, couples can build a strong foundation that will support them through life’s joys and challenges.
In addition, setting clear expectations and boundaries early on can help prevent future conflicts. By doing so, couples can create a sense of security and stability, allowing them to focus on nurturing their love and growing together. As Astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji so aptly puts it, “A strong foundation is the foundation of a happy marriage, and it is the key to unlocking the secrets of a blissful union.”

1. Understanding the male and female perspectives

In the celestial dance of marriage, the harmony of the couple is often influenced by the unique energies that each individual brings to the table. As Astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji so astutely observes, “Understanding the male and female perspectives is crucial to creating a blissful marriage.” Men and women are wired differently, and their approaches to life, relationships, and communication can be like two distinct planets orbiting in different ways. The male perspective is often characterized by a desire for independence, adventure, and a sense of accomplishment, while the female perspective is often marked by a need for connection, nurturing, and emotional validation. By recognizing and respecting these fundamental differences, couples can create a space where both partners feel heard, validated, and loved.
For instance, men often have a tendency to focus on the big picture, making decisions based on logic and strategy, while women tend to zoom in on the details, making decisions based on emotions and intuition. By acknowledging and embracing these differences, couples can learn to communicate more effectively, avoiding misunderstandings and conflicts. As Astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji notes, “When both partners understand each other’s perspective, it’s like having a cosmic alignment that brings balance and harmony to the relationship.” By embracing the unique energies that each partner brings to the table, couples can create a marriage that is not only fulfilling but also blissful.

1. The significance of emotional intelligence in marriage

As the ancient adage goes, “Marriage is a journey, not a destination.” And, indeed, it is the emotional intelligence of the partners that can make or break this journey. Emotional intelligence is the capacity to recognize and understand emotions in oneself and others, and to use this awareness to guide thought and behavior. In the context of marriage, it is the emotional intelligence of both partners that can help them navigate the ups and downs of life together, and cultivate a deeper sense of connection and understanding. Love marriage specialist in india
When both partners possess high emotional intelligence, they are better equipped to communicate effectively, empathize with each other, and manage conflicts in a healthy and constructive manner. This is because they are able to recognize and acknowledge their own emotions, as well as those of their partner, and respond in a way that is respectful and considerate of each other’s feelings. By doing so, they can create a safe and supportive environment in which they can grow and evolve together, free from the shackles of emotional baggage and negativity.
In contrast, a lack of emotional intelligence can lead to misunderstandings, resentment, and feelings of isolation. When partners are unable to recognize and manage their own emotions, they may become defensive, critical, or even aggressive, which can create a toxic environment in which neither partner feels heard or valued. By incorporating emotional intelligence into their marriage, couples can break free from these negative patterns and cultivate a deeper sense of love, respect, and connection.

1. Tips for effective communication in marriage

Effective communication is the cornerstone of a blissful marriage, and yet, it is often the most challenging aspect for many couples to master. In a world where words can be both a blessing and a curse, it is essential to learn how to communicate effectively with your partner. As Astrologer Mukesh Pandit Ji often says, “Communication is the key to unlocking the secrets of a harmonious marriage.” When both partners are able to express themselves openly and honestly, without fear of judgment or criticism, it creates a safe and nurturing environment that fosters trust, understanding, and love.
In a marriage, effective communication is not just about speaking, but also about listening. It is about being able to hear the unspoken words, the emotions, and the needs of your partner. It is about being able to empathize and understand each other’s perspectives, even when you don’t agree. As Astrologer Pandit Ji advises, “Listen to your partner’s words, but also listen to the silence between them. Sometimes, it is the silence that holds the most profound message.” By practicing active listening and open communication, couples can build a stronger bond, resolve conflicts more effectively, and create a marriage that is filled with love, laughter, and joy.
https://mukeshshastriji.com/love-marriage-specialist-in-india-astrologer-mukesh-pandit-ji/

1. Sestina:

- *Definition:* A 39-line poem with intricate repetition of end-words in a specific pattern. - *Example:* Write a sestina exploring the challenges and triumphs of personal growth. 

1. Rondeau:

- *Definition:* A 13-line poem with a rhyme scheme and a repeated phrase. - *Example:* Create a rondeau celebrating the joy of creativity. 

1. Triolet:

- *Definition:* An eight-line poem with a specific rhyme scheme and repetition. - *Example:* Craft a triolet expressing the beauty found in simple moments. 

1. Kyrielle:

- *Definition:* A form of rhyming poetry with repeating lines and a specific structure. - *Example:* Write a kyrielle exploring the theme of resilience in the face of adversity. 

1. Ode:

- *Definition:* A lyrical poem praising and glorifying a person, event, or thing. - *Example:* Compose an ode celebrating the power of human resilience. 

1. Ballad:

- *Definition:* A narrative poem often with a musical quality, telling a story. - *Example:* Create a ballad recounting a mythical or historical tale of adventure. 

1. Epic:

- *Definition:* A long, narrative poem that tells the story of heroic deeds. - *Example:* Write an epic poem inspired by a contemporary hero or heroine. 

1. Blank Verse:

- *Definition:* Unrhymed poetry with a regular meter, often iambic pentameter. - *Example:* Craft a blank verse poem reflecting on the passage of time. 

1. Petrarchan:

- *Definition:* A sonnet divided into an octave and a sestet, often exploring conflicting emotions. - *Example:* Write a Petrarchan sonnet exploring the duality of love and loss. 

1. Terza Rima:

- *Definition:* A poetic form with interlocking rhymes, often used in longer works. - *Example:* Compose a terza rima poem contemplating the mysteries of the universe. 

I'm walking through a bustling underground train station. I push and shove my way through all the other commuters onto the platform. As I look around, there seems to be endless rows of platforms in both directions, stretching well into a dense fog. Further ahead, neat lines of railway tracks extend out from the fog and through the platforms. I instinctually look up at the info screen
Next train in ### minutes
I furrow my brow, squint to try and focus on the numbers but they're heavily pixelated and illegible. I look around at the other commuters, who stream onto the platform completely unaware of the anomaly. Most people are on their phone, or wearing headphones while some are talking to each other. No one seems to notice the malfunction with the screen.
That's when the absurdity of the situation clicks for me. Endless platforms, a wall of fog, unreadable numbers and people that don't care. It's all a dream. I bring my hand up to my face and pinch my nose, trying to breathe through it. An old reality check I remembered from back when I was trying to learn to lucid dream.
My heart rate jumped when I realised, that I couldn't breathe through my nose. Before I could even process this, another problem presented itself. I didn't know why I was here. I didn't know where I was going and I definitely did not know how I even got here. It seems as if reality ceased to exist right before I walked onto this platform. Just like it typically feels in a dream, you spawn in out of nowhere and don't really know what happened prior - except this wasn't a dream.
I knew I was sure of it because deep inside my bones I felt this anxious urgent message. I need to catch this train. It was a primal feeling.
At this point, my head is spinning and I need to sit down somewhere. I choose a silver bench with a middle aged woman sitting on it. She shuffles further to the left as I sit down next to her clutching my head and racking my brain to try and figure out what it is happening. This is what amnesia feels like, I thought to my self as I gnawed at scraps of messy muddled memories. Each image that came into my mind was just a fragment - A school, a library, sickeningly white walls. It hit me that I didn't even know my name. I was starting to hyperventilate but then my body kicked into autopilot. I started to take deep breaths, focusing on my diaphragm and calming myself down. It felt like I was trained to do this. I started to focus on the current situation.
Where was my ticket? Instinctually, I knew I had to have gotten one on my entry to the train station. I reached into my pockets and pulled out a scrap of paper. Scrawled in very familiar cursive:
*In case of memory loss, read the journal in your backpack*
Strange message but I didn't have any choice then to at least give the instructions a try. I removed my backpack and rummaged through it for the journal. I wouldn't really call it a backpack - more a tattered and frayed bundle of cloth that was reminiscent of a backpack. I finally found a series of small thick journals, bundled in cloth with their leather covers on the verge of disintegration. The pages still seemed in good condition though. Each cover was sequentially labelled which I'm guessing corresponded to the chronological order of the writings within.
The lady next to me was weirdly getting agitated. She kept stealing glances, her body shaking and eyes burning with a fierce rage. I slowly got up from the bench and began to step backwards. My backpack bumped into a pillar. The dull thud it made seemed to cause a drastic change to everyone around me though. They all snapped their heads, locking eyes on me and staring through my very soul. I felt exposed.
The rumble of an arriving train stole away their attention and within a split second everyone was ignoring me again, going back to their usual activities. It seriously felt like I had just imagined it and it was becoming more and more clear that I was having some sort of mental breakdown. Nevertheless, as the train slowed to a stop on the platform, I walked into it and found a seat. The train seemed to be old and new at the same time. Typical blue seats with abstract dirty patterns complete with a modern sleek interior of gentle curves clashing with a boxy dull metallic exterior and doors that looked like they belonged on a rusty submarine.
I opened the first of the journals and began to read. I soon realised that the handwriting was mine and within the next few moments I was attacked by a barrage of memories that had remained repressed and buried in the back of my mind.
*
My name is Jacob and I have been stuck here in this place called *The Limbo* for an eternity. When I say 'eternity', I don't mean it lightly. Back when I used to keep track I counted over 500 years through my wristwatch that never seemed to run out of battery. Now I know counting is meaningless. There have been periods like this where my mind falls into a deep trance and I lose my whole identity as I mindlessly wander in this place much like the entities that inhabit it. Occasional periods of lucidity breach this trance and then I find myself lost and confused. It's why I keep the journals with me. I think its some sort of psychological survival mechanism that human brains develop when faced with the infinite vastness of The Limbo.
Speaking of The Limbo, I've come to learn a few things about its nature through my stay here. Some of its been through people that I've come across (Yes others are also stuck here) and some has been through my own experiences. Perhaps the most important is the question of where I get my food and water. The answer is weird. I have never felt hungry or thirsty. The sensation of having cool water slide down my throat remains a memory so distant that it feels like the snippet of a childhood dream.
I guess the next natural topic about this place would be time. Through various experiences of mine (that you'll get to read about) and discussions with others, the leading theory of mine is that The Limbo exists outside of time itself. While I myself have fallen here sometime during 2001, I've met many others from various years like the 80s, 90s and even one recent fellow from 2043.
Most people in The Limbo eventually fall into a trance, withering away until they become one of the entities or become mere tools for them. It's probably naive but I keep going through this place with only two hopes. The first is to somehow get out of here at the right time point and see my son, who I never got to see. The second is to come out of this place and die so that I no longer have to live out the empty agony of eternity (I'll explain how you can't age or die in The Limbo later). Perhaps my hopes will dwindle as the centuries pile and I will become just like those who I look upon in pity now.
I am writing this consolidated diary of my experiences for several reasons. I'd like someone to know of my unending journey in this place. To be aware of the capacity of the human spirit to keep going in the worst of situations. I have never had a long term friend in The Limbo, but know that I consider you the reader a dear friend even if I never get to meet you because you will know my story. I'm also sharing this in hopes that there is more awareness of The Limbo. Perhaps the military and scientists can actually figure out what it is. Perhaps all of us can be brought home. Or maybe this can serve as a survival guide to those who may be unfortunate enough to fall through.
There are small holes in The Limbo. Most of them are barely large enough for a pinkie finger to fit in let alone a person, but sometimes I've come across one large enough for this journal to go through. I'm not sure what time or place these holes lead to, so the safe passage of this book into a person capable of reading it has about the same chances as me ever leaving this place.
The train I'm on supposedly leads to the edge of The Limbo, where the holes are large enough for humans to fit through. It's really more of a legend amongst the poor souls that are trapped here and I've followed trails and clues for a long time to even find this train.
There are only two ways this goes. Both outcomes would lead to you reading this book in your hands. I'll either find my way out of this hell or give up hope and slip this journal through a Hole. You will find my fate at the end.
I should stop rambling now though. It would be best to start at the very beginning.
*
I was rushing out of work in pure ecstasy. My wife had gone into labor while I was at work and been rushed to hospital. I needed to get there fast. People were glancing over at me over their cubicles in confusion as I packed up my work bag and rushed out to the elevators. I couldn't stop thinking about seeing my first son as the elevator made its way down. The elevator doors finally opened and I rushed out.
The ground entrance of the building I worked at, particularly near the lobby, is an intersection of various hallways. I was already walking to close to the wall when someone came rushing around the corner and bumped me right into the wall. I was only able to hear half their apology when I fell *through* the wall like it was just a holographic projection. In hindsight, I find it oddly funny how easy it is for a life to get ruined. Just when you think you've got it all, when everything is going smoothly, a small incident like that is enough to take it all away.
I found myself in a room that resembled a classroom. It looked as if someone who had never stepped inside a classroom was asked to imagine the space. Desks were arranged in messy uneven rows with the chairs facing various directions. The board at the front of the room was a seamless patchy mixture of both chalk and modern whiteboard and mounted way too low on the wall, nearly hugging the floor. A large teachers desk sat in the front of the room. The walls were filled with posters of absolute gibberish along with diagrams and pictures that seemed like they showed something tangible but no matter how close you looked you could never identify anything in the picture.
The initial confusion was replaced by an immense panic. My heart was drumming against my chest as I searched the room for a doorway to exit it. My mind was trying to rationalise the situation. I was trying to convince myself that this was just some old part of the building and I had fallen into a hallway instead of the wall.
I ran through the doorway at the far end of the room and found myself in a large hallway that seemed to extend forever in both directions. The walls were a muted grey and the floors were that typical dirty linoleum. Soon I would find out that the regularly spaced doorways on either side of the hall led to other nonsensical classrooms.
I ran down the hallway screaming for help in pure panic, which was a terrible mistake in hindsight. I stopped running down the hallway when I suddenly heard the distinct scratch of chalk against board. In this large empty space, the sound echoed and boomed. Since I was still refusing to buy in to the reality of the situation, my hopes were momentarily increased by the supposed presence of another person here.
I slowly walked over to the doorway that the sounds were coming from. My stomach filled with an uneasy dread. This deep primal instinct within me urged me to hold back. I peeked carefully in the classroom and saw a woman with their back turned to me drawing something on the chalkboard.
It took me a few moments to notice that it was a very realistic portrait of my face.
She was drawing lines across my throat, her long dark hair swaying as she drew in the details. The drawing was completed with a terrible slash across the throat, blood gurgling out. I was frozen in place, transfixed on the hauntingly beautiful realism of the picture.
She began to turn around slowly while humming a high pitched tune. To this day I can't describe the face I saw. It is still etched into my mind. A face full of so much hatred, so much anger that I don't think its possible for a human to make that face. It expressed an emotion beyond human understanding. No artist in the world could ever render the expression on the paper. No words could describe the pure fear that coursed through my veins as she stared at me and began to approach.
I turned around to run, only to realise that a bunch of school children had gathered around me. They were headless, the bleeding stumps dripping thick blood onto the floor in a rhythmic patter. Somehow they were laughing.
I shoved through the group and ran down the hallway. I wasn't sure where I was going. My whole world had shattered and now I was completely aimless in some nonsense dimension with horrors beyond imagination that wanted me dead.
*
The extract above is from this journal I found at the foot of a large tree on a hiking trail. It's a miracle that I spotted its faded leather cover given that it was almost buried under rotting leaves. I really don't know what to make of what I'm reading, so I'll be slowly transcribing bits of it in separate posts over the next few days.
I know this subreddit is good for this sort of stuff. I'd love if someone else could share anything they know about The Limbo. This whole journal feels like some sort of prank, but the words and memories within feel way too real.
I can't help but feel a connection to this story. My mum doesn't speak much of my Dad, who I know left before I was born. No one ever found out where he went.
I was born in 2001
X

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As it stood, my crazy plan certainly seemed to resonate with the gathered leaders, though they did offer their own suggestions as to how best to implement improvements and contingencies. I of course welcomed each and every one of them, then debated their merits and as the hours flew by we weeded out the ideas that simply would not work and expanded on those that would.
It was quite honestly refreshing to not have to do all the thinking for once, it felt nice to do a little outsourcing as one might describe it. Besides, as many would say I only had one point of view, well, two if we’re being literal, that of a human and an arachne, the former coming from a world without magic and monstrous beings like those I had surrounded myself with.
Their unique viewpoints had offered a wealth of possibilities and were in their own ways invaluable to the war effort. I am glad that they all managed to get along as well. I had seen no hint of animosity or long held grudges between any of them, not even the age old and quite frankly stereotypical hostility between the elves and dwarves had reared its head. In fact, the two races had seemingly fed into each other's ideas with excited glee, and I had almost expected there to be a bout of mad cackling near the end of their ramblings.
Of course now the meeting was over and we were all starting our preparations. The basic prep wouldn’t take that long, ensuring our warriors were all well supplied, their weapons and armor at peak quality before the battle was paramount. It was everything else about the plan that would take time, time we must ensure we had if we were to succeed. And so I headed for the Aberrant Spire, a place I had not been in a long time.
As I followed the streets I was reminded of my first delve into this city, back when it was fully under the control of vile abominations. I paused, looking at a short building on my right, large claw marks scoring the wall near the lip of the roof. I remember one of those beasts had attempted to climb up to get me as I traversed the rooftops.
Remembering that I felt a shiver run down my spine and issued a silent word of thanks that such horrors no longer existed in my new home, that vibrant life had returned to these hallowed streets. It was a place of hope now, not terror.
It was with this remembering of certain facts that I began looking for a faster means of travel to reach the Spire, as walking would be a long and arduous task indeed. Thankfully this was something that was already thought of, for as I meandered through the streets in my search I came across a somewhat raised walkway, except this walkway had a pair of lines worked from crystal or metal, I couldn’t rightly tell which, running through it.
I paused, wondering how I had never seen this thing before and in doing so I bore witness to its purpose. A merchant with a large wagon approached a circular pattern on the walkway, ensured his wares were well secured and then spoke a destination. At once a ball of energy surrounded him and the wagon, raising it all off the ground and then sending him zipping along, following the right hand line. Even as I watched, another traveler came from the opposite direction, the magic wrought into the pathway depositing them gently off to one side and they continued on their merry way.
I had to wonder why thing wasn’t around the first time I had come here, though the more I looked at the construction the stone looked somewhat fresh, perhaps it was simply a new addition and not something from the city’s past. Either way, it looked mighty useful so I stepped into the circle and took a deep breath.
“The Aberrant Spire.” I spoke clearly, and felt myself go weightless. The magic ball of energy formed around me, lifting me off solid ground and leaving me floating, which certainly triggered a slight fear response from my arachnid instincts. I was moved into position and then shot forward. It took all I had to not scream, sudden fear turning into excitement as my human experiences harkened back to several amusement park visits as a kid and getting to ride the roller coasters.
Though instead of loop the loops and corkscrews it was naught but straight lines and gentle curves that weaved through and over the city streets. Everything was a blur and yet I hardly felt it, really all that I felt was a vague sense of motion in my gut and the wind pulling at my hair, but that was it. I did see the spire come into view however, and steadily it grew larger and larger till at last it dominated the skyline.
My breakneck pace started to slow and just as it had with the other traveler, the magic gently shifted me to one side and then put me down softly. I found my legs were incredibly wobbly and as such I simply stood there and waited for the wobbling to cease. Once it had I stepped off the platform and down onto the street proper, finally taking in the sights as it were.
If the areas around the palace and the rest of the city were for merchants, common folk and nobility, then this area was almost exclusively inhabited by those with magical talents. I saw robed figures flitting to and fro, some hovering along on disks of light or wind, one even walked into a shadowy patch and vanished, presumably reappearing elsewhere. And over it all loomed the Spire, still as pretty and strange as it had been, though it seemed to glow with newfound life and vigor.
The teleporter complex seemed in working order as well, though it would have to be since new mages had taken up residence in the spire above. I made for the complex, many mages who had been engrossed in walking and thinking doing double takes as I passed. I simply nodded at each in turn and continued on my merry way, entering the complex and getting bombarded by the sounds of a busy building. Pages and mages zipped about, conducting their various tasks as they did, stepping into or out of the teleporters as needed. It felt almost like that one time I’d visited Grand Central, boy hadn’t that been fun.
I decided that I should probably get some directions to the person that would be most suited to help me with my plan, really whomever happened to be in charge of this place would be perfect for that and so I stepped up to a circular desk that seemed to be staffed by a mixture of elves, dwarves, humans and even a slime person, the latter wobbling in place and simply shifting their features about to face anyone that spoke to them.
I stopped before an elf, the woman looking up and recognition dawning on her face as she beheld me.
“Y-Your majesty! What brings you all the way out here?” She stammered even as she made to stand and bow. I waved her back down into her seat with a smile, the elf sinking back down into her seat.
“I have business with whomever is in charge of the Spire and I have found that I have no idea who that happens to be. I was hoping to change that, and get directions as well.”
The woman nodded, still a bit frazzled thanks to an unannounced visit by royalty.
“I-I can do that, a moment please your majesty.” She said, hunching over a large book that sat before her and furiously flipping through it. Once she found what she needed, she opened a drawer and pulled out what looked like some sort of talisman, setting it down before me on the desk. “Firstly, this will identify you as not only an authorized visitor to the spire, but also as royalty. Granted we all know you are but the spire itself wouldn’t and so would treat you as an intruder if you didn’t carry this with you at all times. And considering your authority over us all, it will allow you to access areas that would be otherwise restricted to normal visitors.”
As she explained its function I picked the talisman up and looked it over. It was a simple thing, not too gaudy though I couldn’t help but notice a coat of arms upon it that had a distinctly arachne flavor to it. I could swear I’d seen it before somewhere else, perhaps that would have to be something else I looked into later.
“I can call an escort for you, they can guide you right to the Archmage.” The receptionist spoke, snapping me from my thoughts as I affixed the talisman to my breast.
“That won’t be necessary, a map will suffice. I am an adventurer first and a queen second after all.” Chuckling, I watched her nod and pull a sheet of parchment towards her, a hand hovering over the surface and magic flowing from her palm onto the page. What looked like ink appeared on it, which then took the shape of the current room I resided in. Words even appeared, informing me that I could use any of the teleporters I wished.
“The man you are looking for is Archmage Yesric. As far as I know he doesn’t have any pressing duties today so you should find him sequestered in his office.” The receptionist rose and bowed again, keeping her hunched over pose even as I started to walk away.
“Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.” I said. I took a subtle look over my shoulder and was relieved to see that she’d sat back down and was currently in the midst of furious conversation with her coworkers. Which was fair, not every day a member of royalty comes asking for help right?
Stepping into the teleporter I was promptly deposited into the halls of the Spire, which now bustled with activity. Mostly staff it seemed, though I spotted several gaggles of younger folk all dressed in something reminiscent of school uniforms rushing through the halls, their expressions belying a desperate desire to reach their destination as quickly as possible. I had heard nothing about the spire being used as some sort of school, though I suppose it only made sense to train the next generation of magic users in a place where magic was dominant.
Looking down at the map I’d been provided, I was pleased to see that my current position was reflected upon its surface. But now there was a handy dandy guiding line that pointed down a hallway to my right. And so without further ado, I followed it. People naturally got out of my way, though whether that was because I took up most of the hall or because they knew who I was I wasn’t sure, either way I did my best to not impede their progress too much.
Turning a corner I was suddenly met with an empty hallway, one that slowly began to fill with black smoke. My gut twisted and my head felt heavy, my eyes began to flutter and then I blinked, the hallway was bustling with people, no longer filled with the smoke. I licked my lips, trying to shake the ghosts of the past and move forward, though my legs couldn’t help but shiver slightly with every step I took.
Floor by floor I made my way closer to my target, till eventually I was directed through a door into what looked like every executive's office that I’d ever seen, just with a fantasy twist to it. Or rather, it was the little office for a secretary that I entered, which presumably meant that through the next door was what I was looking for.
A bespectacled goblin lass looked up from a large tome and blinked at me, her eyes rather enlarged thanks to the lenses that sat before them.
“Can I help you?” She drawled tiredly, and I stepped up to a good distance from her desk.
“Yes, I’m here to speak with the Archmage.”
“I do not recall setting any meetings today. May I ask who wishes for this audience?” She said, flipping through another much smaller tome that sat nearby.
“Safa Eventra.”
She continued to look through this smaller book, before freezing, her head slowly turning towards me. Now she really seemed to be looking at me and I could only smile politely back at her.
“A-Apologies your majesty, a moment if you please, I must inform the Archmage of your presence.” She said, hopping down off her chair and scampering hurriedly towards the other door. I didn’t say anything, instead just engaging in the arachne equivalent of rocking back and forth on my heels. She slipped through the door and I could hear muffled speech before several loud thuds and some not so muffled cursing ensued. The goblin secretary appeared, leaning against the door after closing it.
“The archmage will see you in just a moment, your majesty.” She said, resuming her post and doing her best to look professional for me.
“That’s quite alright, I’m in no rush.” I responded, humming softly to myself as I looked around the room. A moment later, I heard a voice call out from the office and since that was my cue, I bowed my head to the secretary and stepped through the door into the archmage's office.
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About two weeks ago I thought about writing a story under 1,000 words. Would you believe ... 2,093 words? Enjoy!
At 9 PM, my roommate Martine pulled her knees closer to her chest and corrected her balance on the bay window bench seat. She never once looked at me as I finished neatening up the living room behind her. I didn’t expect her to notice me. She was waiting for her new love interest, Baylun. Nothing short of setting her clothes on fire would break her concentration before he arrived.
That’s why I didn’t bother to ask her if I looked okay. Yes, I wanted to make a good impression on Baylun because being presentable is being polite. Also, I didn’t want to give Martine any reason to leave me without her monthly half of the rent. If she left despite me being as perfect as I can be, well, nothing I can do about that. And given how intensely she was staring out the window, I wouldn’t be surprised if she expected Baylun to propose tonight. On their third date.
As if she’d read my mind, she spoke without turning her head. “Would you add him to the lease? I mean, if you like Baylun?”
“My Aunt Gloria might okay it. There’s enough room here. We can ask.” Why did I feel the need to appease her and pretend I wouldn’t be uncomfortable as the third wheel in my aunt’s rental house? My best guess is because appeasing and pretending are the cornerstones of my life, I’m very good at them.
Luckily, Martine was already not listening. “He’s here,” she whispered, sliding off the bench seat. After picking up her silk shawl, she partially opened our front door. Footsteps coming up our front steps stopped at what I presumed was the top step.
Beaming, she opened the door and invited him in. The man who entered had to duck to get in and I had to stop myself for apologizing to him. He was well dressed, looked like the proverbial “million dollars” and as he bent to give Martine a kiss on the cheek, I saw his eyes.
I froze for a moment, staring at the wrinkles around his eyes. Inhaling sharply, I blinked and shifted my gaze to Martine. She’d described Baylun as mature for his age. She’d failed to tell me he was at least middle age. That may sound ageist and I’m sorry for that but Martine and I are both 22 years old and Baylun looked twice that. He might be kind and, as Martine mentioned more than once, rich, but he might also be constantly on the lookout for a younger model than the one currently on his arm. Far be it from me to pass judgment without proof, but I would need more than Martine’s affirmation to feel comfortable with him as a roommate.
Introductions were short if not sweet. Baylun extended his hand and shook mine, which gave me some relief. If he’d kissed my hand I would undoubtedly have done nothing except internally cringe.
“Are you ready?” he asked, looking first at Martine who nodded enthusiastically. Then he looked at me and raised his eyebrows as if waiting for a reply. My jaw dropped, in real time.
Martine stared at me for half a second before jumping in to save me. “Lise was just getting her sweater, right, Lise?”
Thanks for covering for me, Martine. My plans for the night included pjs as soon as you guys left, but how could I say no? Except for flat out saying “No” which would be unthinkable.
“Right, I forgot it, and where are we going?” I squished in behind Martine, reached into the closet and took the top sweater from the neatly folded pile in the sweater drawer.
Baylun made a noise that was probably meant to sound like laughter. “Heddon’s Hill. To see the stars. Cloudless night tonight!”
Martine clapped her hands a couple of times, giving me a jolt of second-hand embarrassment. “Baylun asked me to keep it a secret. He brought a bottle of really good wine. It’s in his car, right, babe?”
Baylun didn’t say anything as he put his hand on her cheek like she was a child. She stared at him, as if in a trance. He didn’t purr audibly but that’s the best way I can describe his facial expression. Then I looked him in the eyes and the silence that followed hurt my ears.
A wave of panic immobilized me. I looked away and struggled to put on the sweater.
When he spoke, he whispered but it felt like thunder to my ears. “Perhaps a heavier outer layer?”
Martine snapped back into reality. “You look cold. Grab a hoodie, we’ll meet you in the car.”
That was the out I needed. “You know what, I feel awful. Go ahead, enjoy. I’ll take cold meds and try to be awake when you get back, to hear all about it.” To convey sadness at missing out on being a third wheel and resigned acceptance of impending illness, I grimaced and shrugged.
Martine considered me for a moment before agreeing. She leaned gently against Baylun’s arm and squeezed his hand. “Could we be back in an hour, babe?”
He turned his full attention on her and nodded. “Yes. We will. Goodbye, Lise.”
I thought about saying goodbye and decided a coughing fit would be more suitable. As I covered my mouth with my left elbow, I waved weakly with my right hand. The two lovebirds got into the car and when I heard it backing down the driveway, I poured a couple of teaspoons of night time anti-cold liquid down the sink. To make sure I smelled like I’d taken it, I licked the spoon before washing it.
When they returned, Martine walked in at a slower pace than usual and Baylun put his arm under hers as soon as they were both inside, so she could lean on him. She didn’t seem upset. She also didn’t make eye contact with me. My first thought was she had a bit too much wine, but we’ve had drinks together. She’s always been a little louder, a little more animated after a bit of alcohol. I started wondering if she’d consumed something other than wine while stargazing. Not judging, just trying to find an explanation that didn’t scare me about her health.
Instead of speaking to me, Baylun nodded and continued supporting Martine, helping her through the house. I reasoned he was taking her to the bathroom or her bedroom, so I squeezed in beside him and ran to open her bedroom door. Baylun led her to the far side of her bed so he was facing me, and helped her to lie down.
Except he didn’t lay her down right away. He held her halfway between standing and lying down, stared into my eyes and put his mouth on her neck.
I know how this sounds. My brain undoubtedly recognized the set-up. Yet I was unprepared for what happened.
Baylun retracted his lips, revealing two bloody fangs and touched Martine’s neck as if searching for something. Just before his fingers found them, I saw two wounds on her neck. He positioned his fingers so his fangs went into the wounds. Martine shuddered for a second, then sighed and stopped moving.
I inhaled sharply. Nothing made sense and I couldn’t remember how to move. When I realized my hand was still on the door handle, I leaned on it slightly, turned and ran to the front door.
Baylun met me there. I didn’t hear him walking or running. He wasn’t at the door and then he was, positioned to prevent me from opening it. He wasn’t frowning. He didn’t lean towards me or touch me, for which I was grateful.
But his eyes. They sparkled, they were bright and lively, and they were wrinkle-free. He looked my age, not middle aged. He looked like the guy I’d met an hour earlier, only younger.
I took a step backwards.
He took a step forward and spoke, his voice quiet and calm.
“If you say anything to her about what you saw, I will deny it and she will believe me. Then I will show you what it’s like to burn in hell.”
This was the second time in one night life handed me a “get out of trouble” card and I grabbed it with both hands. Frowning with the hopes of presenting as confused, I asked, “Okay, I thought it was very kind of you to bring her home, but I think I get it. What’s our story if she asks?”
He crossed his arms and studied me for a long moment. “I’m glad you understand. You can take credit for getting her into bed.”
I nodded and brought my left hand to my mouth, trying to look thoughtful. “And you asked her to text when she gets up tomorrow? Or is that too much?”
He chuckled and uncrossed his arms. “That’s just what I was thinking.” He stared at my mouth.
A rush of fear froze me in place. “Everything okay?”
“It will be.” He pointed at the right side of my mouth.
A sharp pain on the side of my face woke me up. It was still dark. I was in my bed. I tried sitting up and learned my pillowcase was stuck to the corner of my mouth.
Instant panic. I picked up the pillow and ran to the bathroom where a quick glance in the mirror above the sink revealed the substance wasn’t glue, it was blood. As awful as that was, my initial reaction was “Better than glue.” A little warm water on a face cloth eased the pillowcase off my skin and I set the case and face cloth on the counter.
For a brief moment I felt absolute relief. I held onto the sides of the sink and took a deep breath.
A drop of blood landed on the right side of the sink.
Blood could be from biting my lip, or inside of my cheek or even my tongue in my sleep. Or a nosebleed.
Another drop of blood landed on the sink.
It was so weird. Nothing hurt. Not my nose, not my lip, not my tongue. I struggled to figure out what I did, why I would be bleeding. Did I do something foolish before I went to bed?
I couldn’t remember going to bed.
Time to look in the mirror. There wasn’t any obvious damage, so I used my fingers to move my lips away from the right side of my mouth.
My canine tooth was missing. Another, sharper tooth was working its way out of the gums. That’s where the blood was coming from.
I leaned in and looked more closely at it. The emerging canine was definitely tearing through the gum, making it bleed.
A scream worked its way up my throat. I stood up, ramrod straight, shut my mouth and gently placed the face cloth on it.
I tiptoed down the hall to Martine’s bedroom door. It was shut. She was breathing in a regular pattern, not quite snoring.
I came back to my bedroom and checked my phone. 4:45 AM. When did I come to bed? Baylun was here, I remembered him with Martine and then at the door. Seems like he’s gone, unless he’s sitting in the dark in the living room or kitchen.
Any other day, Martine would be waking up in two hours. If she does, I don’t doubt she’ll be excited to hear Baylun wants her to text him.
I want to throw up. A few hours ago, life felt so normal. Now a giant canine tooth is pushing its way into my mouth. Maybe the other one is, too. I don’t care to find out. I also don’t want to go to the hospital where I’ll run out of answers before the staff run out of questions.
Maybe I can take a couple of days off work, see if the new dental situation affects my sleep schedule. Maybe I can find a night job.
Or maybe I’m a vampire, condemned to a life of hunting humans and being hunted by humans. I’m going to wait until Martine gets up before posting this. She might have a lot more information on this.
My mind is clearer now. My memories are back. It’s time for me to disappear from Martine’s and my Aunt Gloria’s lives. I can do it. I must do it. For their safety, and for mine. Everything is not okay. Not yet.

Husband wife dispute problem solution in tamil Marriage is a sacred institution that brings two souls together, but it’s not uncommon for the flames of love and harmony to flicker and dim over time. As the complexities of daily life and the demands of modern society take their toll, disagreements and misunderstandings can arise, leaving couples feeling frustrated, disconnected, and even despairing. In the midst of this chaos, the voice of wisdom and guidance is often sought, and for those who speak the Tamil language, astrologer Abdullah Khadim offers a beacon of hope and insight. In this enlightening blog post, we will delve into the timeless wisdom of Marital Harmony in Tamil, as revealed by Astrologer Abdullah Khadim, and uncover effortless solutions to common husband-wife dispute problems, helping couples to rekindle the love and harmony that once brought them together.

1. Introduction to the concept of marital harmony in Tamil

As the ancient Tamil proverb goes, “Marriage is a journey of ups and downs, but harmony is the key to a happy and fulfilling life.” In the midst of this beautiful journey, disputes and conflicts are inevitable, but it is how we navigate these challenges that defines the success of our union. In this blog post, we will delve into the concept of marital harmony in Tamil, as revealed by the renowned astrologer, Abdullah Khadim. With his expert guidance, we will uncover the secrets to resolving husband-wife disputes and maintaining a peaceful and loving relationship.
In Tamil culture, marriage is considered a sacred institution, and the well-being of the family is deeply rooted in the harmony of the husband and wife. However, the pressures of modern life, misunderstandings, and unmet expectations can often lead to friction and disagreements. It is in these moments that we need to seek guidance from those who have mastered the art of marital harmony. Husband wife dispute problem solution in tamil
Abdullah Khadim, a respected astrologer with years of experience, has spent his career studying the intricacies of marital relationships and the ancient Tamil traditions that can help couples achieve harmony. Through his astute observations and insightful advice, we will discover the effortless solutions to common husband-wife dispute problems, and learn how to cultivate a deeper understanding and love for each other.
In this post, we will explore the concept of marital harmony in Tamil, and how it can be applied to everyday life. We will examine the different types of disputes that can arise in a marriage, and how to resolve them using Abdullah Khadim’s expert advice. Whether you’re facing challenges in your relationship or simply seeking to strengthen your bond with your partner, this blog post will provide you with the tools and wisdom to achieve a harmonious and fulfilling marriage.

1. The importance of understanding each other’s perspectives

In the intricate tapestry of marital harmony, understanding each other’s perspectives is the thread that weaves together the delicate fabric of a successful relationship. Astrologer Abdullah Khadim, a renowned expert in the realm of marital harmony, emphasizes the pivotal role that empathy and comprehension play in resolving the most contentious of disputes. When couples fail to grasp the underlying motivations and emotions driving their partner’s actions, misunderstandings and hurtful words can escalate, leading to a rift that’s difficult to bridge.
In his extensive experience, Astrologer Khadim has seen firsthand how a lack of understanding can lead to a sense of isolation and disconnection, ultimately eroding the foundation of trust and communication that’s essential for a healthy marriage. By taking the time to actively listen to each other’s concerns, and to genuinely seek to comprehend the other’s perspective, couples can diffuse the tension and create a safe and supportive environment where conflicts can be resolved in a constructive and respectful manner. With this crucial skill in place, even the most seemingly insurmountable disputes can be overcome, paving the way for a life of harmony, love, and mutual understanding.

1. Common issues that lead to husband-wife disputes

The sacred bond of marriage, woven together with love, trust, and commitment. Yet, like the delicate threads of a tapestry, it can be easily frayed by the whispers of discord and misunderstandings. In the pursuit of marital harmony, it is essential to identify the root causes of husband-wife disputes, that they may be addressed with the gentle touch of understanding and compassion. Husband wife dispute problem solution in tamil
As revealed by the insightful astrologer, Abdullah Khadim, common issues that often lead to husband-wife disputes are far more numerous than one may initially suspect. These may include the age-old struggles of differing opinions, the stress of financial burdens, and the challenges of communication breakdown. The imperceptible shifts in emotional dynamics, such as the changes that occur with the passage of time, can also contribute to the growing rift between two loving souls.
But, dear readers, take heart! For it is not the problems that define the strength of a marriage, but rather the willingness to confront and overcome them. By acknowledging the presence of these issues, couples can embark on a journey of self-discovery, empathy, and growth, ultimately leading to a deeper and more profound understanding of one another. In the words of the wise astrologer, Abdullah Khadim, “A harmonious marriage is not the absence of conflicts, but the ability to navigate them with love and compassion.”

1. The role of astrology in understanding marital relationships

In the intricate dance of marital harmony, understanding the celestial rhythms that govern our relationships is a vital step towards achieving effortless solutions to husband-wife dispute problems. As revealed by renowned astrologer Abdullah Khadim, the ancient science of astrology holds the key to unlocking the mysteries of marital relationships. By examining the planetary positions and alignments of both partners, astrology can provide valuable insights into the dynamics of their union, revealing the underlying causes of conflicts and disharmony.
According to Khadim, astrology can help identify the areas of tension and stress in a marriage, allowing couples to address these issues proactively and prevent them from escalating into full-blown disputes. Moreover, astrology can provide guidance on how to navigate the complexities of the relationship, offering practical advice on communication, conflict resolution, and emotional intelligence.
Astrology can also help couples recognize and appreciate the unique strengths and weaknesses of each partner, fostering a deeper understanding and empathy for one another. By acknowledging and honoring their individual planetary signatures, couples can cultivate a more harmonious and balanced relationship, free from the turmoil of disputes and conflicts. As Khadim wisely notes, “Astrology is not just a tool for understanding ourselves, but also for understanding our relationships with others.” By embracing this wisdom, couples can embark on a journey of marital harmony, guided by the celestial rhythms that govern their union. Husband wife dispute problem solution in tamil

1. The importance of understanding one’s own birth chart

As Astrologer Abdullah Khadim so astutely points out, the key to resolving marital disputes lies not only in understanding the intricacies of one’s partner but also in gaining insight into one’s own birth chart. A person’s birth chart is a unique map of their personality, strengths, and weaknesses, and by understanding its intricacies, one can gain a profound understanding of their own thoughts, emotions, and actions. This self-awareness is crucial in navigating the complexities of a marital relationship, as it allows individuals to recognize and address their own shortcomings, thereby reducing the likelihood of misunderstandings and conflicts.
By studying one’s own birth chart, an individual can gain valuable insights into their emotional and psychological makeup, which can help them better understand their own motivations and behaviors. This, in turn, can lead to greater empathy and understanding towards their partner, allowing them to respond more effectively to their needs and concerns. Moreover, understanding one’s own birth chart can also help identify areas of compatibility and potential areas of conflict, enabling couples to proactively address issues and work towards building a stronger, more harmonious relationship.
As Astrologer Abdullah Khadim emphasizes, understanding one’s own birth chart is an essential step in the journey towards marital harmony, and one that requires patience, self-reflection, and a willingness to learn and grow. By taking the time to explore and understand one’s own birth chart, individuals can gain a deeper understanding of themselves and their relationship, ultimately leading to a more fulfilling and harmonious marriage.

1. How to identify and resolve communication issues

As the renowned astrologer, Abdullah Khadim, so eloquently puts it, “Communication is the backbone of a harmonious marriage”. In the intricate dance of marital relationships, the ability to converse effectively is often the most overlooked yet crucial aspect of building a strong bond between husband and wife. It is during these moments of communication breakdown that the subtle nuances of the zodiac can serve as a guiding light, illuminating the path to resolution.
To identify and resolve communication issues, it is essential to tune into the subtle energies that govern our interactions. According to Abdullah Khadim, a thorough understanding of the astrological aspects of the individual can reveal the underlying reasons for the communication breakdown. For instance, a mismatch between the two partners’ moon signs can lead to emotional misunderstandings, while a stellium of planets in the 7th house can indicate a tendency towards conflict.
By recognizing the astrological patterns at play, couples can take steps to address the root causes of their communication issues. This may involve practicing active listening, empathy, and effective conflict resolution techniques. With the guidance of Abdullah Khadim’s expert insights, couples can learn to navigate the complexities of their relationship, fostering a deeper understanding and harmony that can only be achieved through the harmonious union of husband and wife.

1. The impact of planetary positions on marital relationships

As the ancient art of astrology has long revealed, the positions of celestial bodies in our universe can have a profound impact on the delicate balance of our personal relationships, including the most sacred of unions – marriage. Astrologer Abdullah Khadim, an expert in deciphering the mystical forces that shape our lives, emphasizes the significance of planetary positions in understanding and resolving marital disputes. Husband wife dispute problem solution in tamil
In this regard, the positioning of the planets can either exacerbate or mitigate the tensions that arise in a marriage. For instance, when the malefic planet, Mars, is in a dominant position, it can stir up anger, aggression, and hostility, leading to conflicts and power struggles between the couple. Conversely, when the benevolent planet, Venus, is prominent, it can foster love, compassion, and understanding, promoting harmony and unity in the relationship.
Similarly, the positioning of the Moon, which rules over the emotions, can also have a profound impact on the emotional dynamics of a marriage. When the Moon is in a favorable position, it can bring emotional balance, empathy, and understanding, allowing the couple to navigate the challenges of married life with ease and harmony. On the other hand, when the Moon is in a challenging position, it can lead to emotional turmoil, insecurity, and mood swings, causing tension and conflict in the relationship.
By understanding the planetary positions and their impact on the couple’s relationship, astrologer Abdullah Khadim offers a unique perspective on how to address and resolve the complexities of marital life, ultimately leading to a more harmonious and fulfilling union. Husband wife dispute problem solution in tamil
https://abdullahkhadim.com/husband-wife-dispute-problem-solution-in-tamil/

I work in corporate government and struggle with RSD, it’s gotten to the point where I overthink almost all conversations when I get home, and paranoia creeps in so I withdraw from relationships in the work place because I think everyone hates me, or is secretly against me and is forming a dislike of me. It’s the worst, I’m generally bubbly, I do all my work with excellence, am well groomed and no one knows I have ADHD, I feel I don’t need to disclose as I’m high functioning and high performing. I have good professional boundaries, don’t have personal friendships at work as I don’t really trust people and fear that rejection if people know me too closely, but overall, I get comments about being joyful and funny as if it’s a good thing . I believe I’m well received- but the RSD and “paranoia” for lack of a better word, is so intense. It almost feels like I’m too happy, or my joy and high performance irritates others. That’s the main pattern of thinking that starts the intense self rejection. Is there a book to read to get over this RSD, im currently listening to the subtle art of not giving a f*** and it gives me a slight insight and confidence to not care but not enough to heal it - Im really in need of tips, in terms of mental “off ramps” and an action plan to get over this.
Please help 🥹

Salam everyone ,
I want to start off by saying , Being in love with someone who's also in love with you is such a huge privilege.
I know I love my husband as I treat him with respect and honour . I can see that he loves me through his words and action.
HOWEVER ,
Before getting married to I told him I didn’t mind being a house wife. Surprisingly enough he also wanted that for his future spouse. he told me on numerous occasions that he was financially stabled. he kept reassuring me that it’s his duty to be the sole provider and that I had nothing to worry about .
Now that I am married to him , I am seeing patterns that aren’t aligning with what he was telling me. I recently discovered he send money to his family outside from his mother and to whoever is in need Yet he complains to me when he spend money on BASIC groceries !!! Or when we go out to eat restaurants !!!! I have yet to ask him for money to buy my own personal things as we’re still new in the marriage. He hasn’t bought me anything since we’ve been married. I don’t care for expensive stuff but come on dude flower a week would make me feel happy.
So ladies , please give me some tips on how you ask your husband for money/allowance ?
Also for men , am i within my Haqq to control how he spends our money ?

I want to develop a character who has DID derived from PTSD, which in turn arose from a four-day period of suffering different atrocities. The character has no explicit memories of this four-day period, but their subconscious locks it away to avoid the pain of trauma and develops disorders as a defense mechanism. In addition to the mentioned disorders, the character has developed a refusal to eat food due to an apparently irrational line of thought and sensation that if they eat, they would be hypocritical for something, and therefore, more guilty. The character has 5 personalities. So far, I've only been able to conceptualize 3: the assistant, the machine, and the monster.
The monster is the murderous and harmful personality. It's what the character most instinctively tries to avoid manifesting, even if they don't know exactly why. It's the embodiment of their potential evil, and its appearances are always accompanied by tension and suspense. Even if not actually manifested (or is it?), the mere fact of appearing in nightmares and hallucinations already triggers panic attacks in the character. This is the most mysterious personality because the character has doubts about the nature of this personality that doesn't offer many explanations beyond the simple fact that it knows everything about him and is playing and affecting him; Is it a personality or a distinct demon? Is it a delusion or is it real? Is it himself or a separate being pretending to be him to scare him? Is it capable of killing the personalities, and if so, why doesn't it do it immediately instead of leaving the personalities unharmed? Why psychologically torture him if the function of fragmented personalities is to help in self-preservation? If it's real, why does it let him escape at the end of its ''games''? This personality (or not) is physically the largest, the most technological, the most inhuman, and presents more feats of strength despite appearing less, all geared towards psychological torture mainly, a literal kind of haunting like Pennywise's. It wreaks psychological havoc on the character in each of its personalities, and the most sensitive one, which is the one the other personalities most try to avoid being impacted by the monster, is the assistant personality, the personality that personifies human essence and, being based on the Superego and Ego and reflecting the distant past spent with his deceased good mother whose values were transmitted in his childhood and adolescence, is the personality that tries to maintain order, predominate, and reunite the fragmented personalities, although this self-imposed role is not easy and it is difficult to deal with the fear of what could happen if people found out that he and the other four 'people' are actually the same person who has DID; it is difficult to represent order while his other parts are more inclined to chaos and there is no direct interaction between the personalities. The assistant personality has blindness, whose degree varies depending nuancemente on the external and internal security situation it feels, but is always present because it results from an unresolved trauma. Glasses are used, the only one who does this. Blindness is more present in the assistant personality and less manifested in the other personalities because they are more detached from humanity. The assistant personality is the most divergent from what the character was before DID. Its form is more human, shorter, and less cybernetic, precisely because it reflects a distant period from the current one of the character. (A side note: the character is, in a way, a shapeshifter, so its personalities have a distinct form, some more similar to each other and others less similar, and vice versa. The metamorphosis is restricted to the forms the character has already had in its life and afterlife, and those forms it did not have are a more adapted version of the personality concept). The assistant is the most sensitive personality and the one that most tries to be virtuous, and because of these characteristics, it is the most vulnerable to the monster.
The machine personality is the psychological barrier. A wall for any emotions. An internal shield for trauma. It looks like a robot, like a machine, both for sentimental and behavioral issues. It does not feel emotions, is extremely rational, and is very connected to technology. Indeed, it is the most technological personality in the purest sense of the word, while the monster personality is the most technological in the most monstrous sense. Its function is to offer a more impartial view of situations and, because of the monster, to be the most solid shield for the assistant personality not to be haunted directly (and possibly killed) by the monster.
There are 2 more personalities to develop, and I'm working on it since it's a new idea I had.
The character is Vox.
The conceptual ideas for this fanfic that I intend to create, combined with my hobby of self-studying psychology/psychoanalysis/psychiatry, made me realize that I attribute four disorders to Vox:
• DID: According to the DSM-5 criteria, to be considered DID it is necessary: ▪︎Two or more distinct identities or personality states are present, each with its own relatively enduring pattern of perceiving, relating to, and thinking about the environment and self. ▪︎Amnesia must occur, defined as gaps in the recall of everyday events, important personal information, and/or traumatic events. ▪︎The person must be distressed by the disorder or have trouble functioning in one or more major life areas because of the disorder. ▪︎The disturbance is not part of normal cultural or religious practices. ▪︎The symptoms cannot be due to the direct physiological effects of a substance (such as blackouts or chaotic behavior during alcohol intoxication) or a general medical condition (such as complex partial seizures).
• PTSD: Symptoms of PTSD fall into the following four categories. Specific symptoms can vary in severity.
Intrusion: Intrusive thoughts such as repeated, involuntary memories; distressing dreams; or flashbacks of the traumatic event. Flashbacks may be so vivid that people feel they are reliving the traumatic experience or seeing it before their eyes. Avoidance: Avoiding reminders of the traumatic event may include avoiding people, places, activities, objects and situations that may trigger distressing memories. People may try to avoid remembering or thinking about the traumatic event. They may resist talking about what happened or how they feel about it. Alterations in cognition and mood: Inability to remember important aspects of the traumatic event, negative thoughts and feelings leading to ongoing and distorted beliefs about oneself or others (e.g., “I am bad,” “No one can be trusted”); distorted thoughts about the cause or consequences of the event leading to wrongly blaming self or other; ongoing fear, horror, anger, guilt or shame; much less interest in activities previously enjoyed; feeling detached or estranged from others; or being unable to experience positive emotions (a void of happiness or satisfaction). Alterations in arousal and reactivity: Arousal and reactive symptoms may include being irritable and having angry outbursts; behaving recklessly or in a self-destructive way; being overly watchful of one's surroundings in a suspecting way; being easily startled; or having problems concentrating or sleeping. Many people who are exposed to a traumatic event experience symptoms similar to those described above in the days following the event. For a person to be diagnosed with PTSD, however, symptoms must last for more than a month and must cause significant distress or problems in the individual's daily functioning. Many individuals develop symptoms within three months of the trauma, but symptoms may appear later and often persist for months and sometimes years. PTSD often occurs with other related conditions, such as depression, substance use, memory problems and other physical and mental health problems.
The four tabs below provide brief descriptions of four conditions related to PTSD: acute stress disorder, adjustment disorder, disinhibited social engagement disorder, and reactive attachment disorder. Source: https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/ptsd/what-is-ptsd • Psychotic Depression: Psychotic depression Some people who have severe depression may also experience hallucinations and delusional thinking, the symptoms of psychosis.
Depression with psychosis is known as psychotic depression.
Symptoms of depression Someone with depression feels sad and hopeless for most of the day, practically every day, and has no interest in anything. Getting through the day feels almost impossible.
Other typical symptoms of depression may include:
fatigue (exhaustion) disturbed sleep changes in appetite feeling worthless and guilty being unable to concentrate or being indecisive thoughts of death or suicide Doctors describe depression as mild, moderate or severe depending on your symptoms, how long it lasts and how much it affects your daily life.
Read more about the psychological, physical and social symptoms of clinical depression
Symptoms of psychosis Having moments of psychosis (when people lose some contact with reality) means experiencing:
delusions – thoughts or beliefs that are unlikely to be true hallucinations – hearing and, in some cases, feeling, smelling, seeing or tasting things that are not there; hearing voices is a common hallucination The delusions and hallucinations almost always reflect the person's deeply depressed mood – for example, they may become convinced they're to blame for something, or that they've committed a crime.
"Psychomotor agitation" is also common. This means not being able to relax or sit still, and constantly fidgeting.
At the other extreme, a person with psychotic depression may have "psychomotor retardation", where both their thoughts and physical movements slow down.
People with psychotic depression have an increased risk of thinking about suicide. Source for more information: https://www.nhs.uk/mental-health/conditions/psychotic-depression/
• An as-yet unidentified eating disorder: This is the only one in which I do not know which exact diagnosis it fits into. It is a consequence of the trauma from the four-day period - including this period being one of the biggest mysteries in history and a great source of theories for readers, as it is the root of Vox's psychological mess, the divergence point that originated the entire fanfic and which the protagonist DOES NOT want to remember - that resulted in the trauma of eating. He does not feel like eating, not even the SIN OF GLUTTONY is able to make him eat - he is immune to her powers - and feels an apparently inexplicable instinct of guilt and hypocrisy when trying to eat, as if he were the worst being in the universe if he ate a food and a huge hypocrite; why and what exactly this innate thought of judging himself as a hypocrite is another mystery in the plot.
In this story, at least in the initial arcs, no one associates all five as being the same person, at most they associate only one/two of them with Vox. With the climaxes (yes, it's in the plural) throughout the story, the characters will find evidence and suspect and associate more and more of the other alters (as I call Vox's fragmented personalities) with the same person, which increases the narrative tension. Being the assistant personality the last to be accurately associated by the other characters, although she was the one that had the most tension and care in NOT being associated throughout the story because she is the human essence of Vox, reflects more the fragility of his soul state and is not ready to deal with the harsh social consequences that the actions of the other alters and Vox before DID caused, needing solid support and not wanting to lose all the friendly social relationships, although fragile, that he built as a separate being from Vox and the other alters. It is easier to hate than to love. The assistant personality does not want to risk losing the little support he has built. These relationships are extremely valuable to him. He doesn't want to have this taken away from him anymore. The relationships he built are based on the inhabitants of Hazbin Hotel.
All alters have Vox's trademark: the TV as
a head. All... except the assistant personality. This alter is the ONLY one that has a human head and is the smallest, being even a few centimeters smaller than Lucifer. The size of his hair goes up to just above his shoulders, but he ties them in a professional hairstyle. His clothes are similar to those of an assistant, and they have a palette of blue, black, and white colors. The color of his hair, influenced by his powers as a Media Demon, is black with dark blue streaks and tips.
His human appearance reflects a period when Vox was human. In my story Vox is a trans man, which means he was born female and went through a transition at some point in his adolescence or adulthood. The appearance of the assistant personality reflects an episode during his 13/14 years. In this episode, he did a special show for his father's assistant at a fancy restaurant. It was her last night in his life as she would unfortunately be sent away without a chance to return, and he was aware of this. He also knew that his father was responsible for her being sent away, although his innocence at the time made him not immediately detect that she would be KILLED by a hired hitman hired by the father and mother. The assistant was a loved one by the teenage Vox. She was a loving mother he never had, and because of the emotional attachment to her, he decided to do a musical show, showing for the first and last time to anyone his talent for piano and violin. He, at the time still not going through the transition, dressed more masculinely, used the best appearance he could, and used a pseudonym to enter the restaurant and make the presentation without being detected by the family. He did not explicitly specify for whom the music was intended, but the assistant, secretly his true biological mother, knew it was for her. That was the last time he would see her, and he made every second of that night count.
Vox's human female name was Elizabeth. I chose this name because it is a beautiful name, it was the name of the former queen of the United Kingdom, and it was the name of one of Jack the Ripper's victims, Elizabeth Stride.
Vox, during his adult life as a man and even post-death, buried his past as a woman. It was not a source of pride, especially for the family abuses suffered and the transphobia of the time. If the Vees, the people closest to him currently, do not have a deep understanding of Vox's human life as a man, imagine their knowledge of the initial part of his life before the transition!
That's why being called "Elizabeth" during the direct and indirect appearances of the monster personality already causes genuine and unmasked panic in him. It is an indication of knowledge of his deepest layers.
The story has a suspenseful atmosphere, with some horror scenes. We follow the alters individually, and as the story progresses, we realize along with the protagonist some strange, wrong things. The alters do not communicate directly with each other and, therefore, the character does not immediately perceive the signs of having multiple personalities. It was as if there were four people in one body and none of them noticed, according to the perspective of the assistant personality, the alter that we slowly follow discovering the huge web of the situation he's in. There's something very wrong with Vox, more specifically his soul. But there's an invisible barrier that prevents the character from investigating further, like an elephant in the middle of the room. Each alter has its own course, all acting as if they were distinct people and not associating with each other. This is bad socially speaking in the long run, because sooner or later the clash of beliefs and values built among the alters will come into conflict and the individual consequences of their actions will negatively impact each other. The monster personality served to add more salt to the wound. It is by far the most harmful, appearing little but causing a huge mess in return. Don't think of it as a kind of Hulk, because Hulk is a destructive monster that his counterpart, Bruce, can try to control and turn into a hero, and everyone is aware of Hulk's nature, which is easy to understand and try to contain; whereas the monster personality is an enigma at the same time as it is a nightmare, there is no discussion with it, it causes psychological terror in Vox's alters, its apparently internal actions affect the external world of the alters, it is unpredictable, it is the literal meaning of hell. The monster personality has already caused physical harm to the alters, although they did not exactly remember, mainly the assistant personality, the most oblivious of all for a reason. I want to relate the monster personality to Roo.

Edit: What Prompted me to ask what other people think, is that other teachers I have asked, have shared a similar experience. Very frustrated with adult students unable to perform basic musical tasks.
I am a music teacher. I love my job apart from one thing. Teaching adults. Seeing full grown adult human beings with full time jobs, degrees, and somehow unable to count to 4 in even intervals... Makes my skin crawl.
For some context, I'm not some prodigy musician. I'm fuckin average AT BEST. I play guitar, bass, drums, keys, vox, and can work a recording/live sound booth. I have solid fundamentals with no issues, and a decent grasp around music theory essentials. Overall I have largely taught myself pretty much all my instruments. In the beginning I learned guitar by just watching guitar covers on youtube and copying them. Before you could slow down videos I would bandicam them and slow it down in windows movie maker. Learned by hand. I hated tabs, and had no issue learning things like smoke on the water, or tnt, or welcome to paradise from one of my older cousins. So my 10 year old brain said that youtube was definitely the most efficient route. Anyway fast forward a couple years my parents said I earned lessons (I had quit most of my other vocations they provided), and I had proved I could stick with a hobby. Learned how to solo, improv with logic, write songs even. Fun time, but at no point was it ever difficult. Yes it took time, that doesn't mean it was difficult to me. I never felt very frustrated, and there was never a moment I didn't understand what was going on. As opposed to every other area of my childhood like school; guitar and rock music was the only thing that naturally made complete and total sense the entire way thorough.
Now for my actual point; I do not understand how in some cases, after 20-50 years, someone could possibly be unable to clap their hands to an 80 bpm metronome. Unable to keep track of the frets when they have markers for every odd number. Going to blank spaces when I say frets like 5 or 7. Going to the completely opposite end of the guitar, and looking at me confused. It seriously baffles me. And I get it yes these people are paying me I should be grateful, but after a certain point... They have such a disconnection to music and art as a whole, that I no longer believe that everyone is capable of playing music. These adult students, feel like some of the dumbest people on the planet that I've ever met. They are completely incapable of even operating the instrument, to a capacity that would even allow them to learn. In some cases, like as if they've never even heard the song they know all the words to, and requested to learn on guitar or drums etc. It's like these people have no ears. I have always been of the opinion music is very primal. To me music, rhythm especially, sounds like english. I don't need to learn it, I've been hearing it so much since birth that I speak it. Every TV show, commercial, public school music class. To me music was literally, "let's just bang on shit and see what it sounds like." And then automatically realizing "oh nice if I put it in a pattern and play it an even number of times it's music, sweet." Yeah did I have to improve technique, learn how to make the sounds I was hearing over time, etc? Well yeah of course, but it was never hard. Each new technique, chord, what have you was a breeze. Maybe because music was so prevalent in the house? But then I remember, these people are also mentioning how important rock music was to the family home when they grew up. Now I'm back to square one. What could possibly be the difference between my dumbass, who failed algebra twice, and the dude working a 6 figure job twice my age?
I keep these opinions to myself, and have no struggles keeping private thoughts private in the moment. I am always positive with them, and never mention that I am floored by their inability to complete the task. I always put emphasis that if they don't understand something; it's on me to find a different angle to explain it. I have 3 adult students who do have their heads screwed on straight when it comes to this stuff. And they are able to learn to play. But at a certain point I don't know if I can help you, if it's going to take over a month to learn to clap your damn hands to the song you listen to every day.
I'm sorry if I sound like an asshole, but this is frustrating to no end. I even feel bad, these people have no chance at being able to play, and are still paying me. Taking it super slow, easy songs, seven nation army, smoke on the water, taylor swift, katy perry, whole notes, fucking whole notes?????? We can only go through this basic stuff so many times, and I think I've exhausted every method of explaining 4/4 and how to use your fingers one at a time. I don't know what to tell these people anymore.
Sidenote: The younglings are a different story because sometimes the parents force their kids to go when the kids aren't even interested. That's really no problem. I always focus on making it about music as a fun art form to consume and think about. Basic songs, no expectations, talking about music history, band recommendation's. The kids that are interested have no issue picking it up. Some are like the adults, where they can't keep a beat to save their life, but since they are young I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt they can still figure it out.

1. Sonnet:
   A 14-line poem, traditionally written in iambic pentameter, with various rhyme schemes such as Shakespearean (ABABCDCDEFEFGG).
   
2. Haiku:
   

A three-line Japanese poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, typically capturing a moment in nature.

1. Free Verse:
   Poetry without a fixed rhyme or meter, allowing for greater freedom and natural flow of expression.
   
2. Villanelle
   

: A 19-line poem with a specific structure, containing five tercets followed by a concluding quatrain, using only two rhymes.

1. Acrostic:
   A poem where the first letter of each line, when read vertically, spells out a word or message.
   
2. Limerick
   

: A humorous five-line poem with a specific meter and rhyme scheme (AABBA).

1. Ghazal:

A form of poetry with rhyming couplets and a repeating refrain, often exploring themes of love and loss.

1. Tanka

: A Japanese form of poetry with a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable count structure, focusing on nature and emotions.

1. Sestina:
   A complex poem with six stanzas of six lines each, ending with a three-line envoi; the same six words end the lines in a shifting pattern.
   
2. Cinquain
   

: A five-line poem with a specific syllable count for each line (2-4-6-8-2), often used to capture a moment or emotion.

1. Rondeau:
   A 13-line poem with a rhyme scheme and repetition of specific words, often emphasizing themes of love.
   
2. Pantoum
   

: A form of poetry with repeating lines, where the second and fourth lines of each stanza become the first and third lines of the next.

1. Ode:

A lyrical poem expressing strong emotions or deep feelings, often addressed to a particular person or thing.

1. Elegy:
   A mournful poem, typically written in remembrance of someone who has passed away.
   
2. Ekphrastic
   

: A poem inspired by a work of art, often describing or reflecting on the visual piece.

1. Concrete Poetry:
   Poems where the arrangement of words on the page forms a visual representation of the subject.
   
2. Prose Poetry
   

: A hybrid of prose and poetry, characterized by its free-flowing structure and poetic language within prose form.

1. Epigram:

A short, witty, and often satirical poem or statement, typically with a clever or humorous ending.

1. Quatrain

: A four-line stanza or poem with various rhyme schemes, commonly used in ballads and hymns.

1. Epitaph

: A short poem or inscription on a tombstone in memory of the deceased.

Hey,
We have an 11yo daughter, who originally I co-parented with her birth mother 50/50, my girlfriend at the time then moved in with us and shortly after that the co-parenting changed to more like 80/20 that we had her as her birth mother is a trainee nurse and had to do we placements, meaning she wasn't around much. OK, we still would get a few days for us when her birth mother was at home to have her.
To note, my Fiancée and daughter get on really well.
The background:
In February 2023, our daughter poured her heart out to me on the drive home from school one afternoon and then to me and my Fiancée that evening, about how she didn't want to live with, see or have any contact with her birth mother any more and she gave a lot of reasoning and had clearly thought about this a lot.
I made notes, we recorded what was said and we were on a very thin line between her birth mother needing to be reported for child neglect & endangerment. I called her school the next day and told them what had happened the night before and I kept her off for a couple of days so that she could collect her thoughts, chill out and recoup from what she told as she was in pieces.
We told her that OK, we'll keep her here a bit longer than she would have and tell her birth mother that she'd asked to stay longer and we need to sit, think, talk and go through everything that she told as there was a lot for us to unpack.
My Fiancée and I thought, we talked and we agreed that with the information she's given us, if it's true (not doubting her, but we all embellish things at times), the only option is to honour her wishes, BUT she had to tell her birth mother, either on a video chat, a letter or somehow.
It ended up that the initial conversation was a video chat, where our daughter was beyond upset trying to say what she needed to, so I had to say the words and she nodded and agreed while crying her eyes out. This followed a letter that she wrote, hand written, where she wrote down why she made this decision. I met her birth mother and we sat and had coffee while we went through and she admitted to what our daughter was claiming, no embellishment, no lying, it was all true.
So our daughter now lives with us full time and has no contact with her birth mother. We have tried to encourage that maybe they just meet for a hot chocolate, in public with us sat either there with them, the other side of the room, whatever small morsel of contact, but our daughter is not interested at all.
Now:
Its hard, its so hard going from co-parenting to full time parenting, especially with no time to prepare or even really process what's happened. I had been expecting this to come, but not for another few years as I had no idea things were so bad, so its been easier for me than my Fiancée as this all happened in such a short space of time after she moved in.
She's still struggling with all the added things being a full time parent brings with it, the lack of time for us, the teenage hormones & changes (like her being too lazy to brush her teeth), no break from being a parent as this isn't what the plan was, even the silly things like being able to run to the bathroom nekkid. Our sex life has been heavily impacted as we live in a small 2 bedroom flat and my Fiancée hates that our daughter can probably hear what's going on and she old enough to understand what she's hearing.
There's also the back and forthing of what our daughter calls her, sometimes she refers to her as mum, other times she will introduce her as her step-mum & other times as her dad's girlfriend, but at home she's called by her name (which my Fiancée is fine with). I've talked to our daughter about this and it's getting better slowly.
Family wise, I have 2 brothers, but 1 works shift patterns so isn't available to have our daughter much at all, my other brother has 2 kids of his own and doesn't really have the room to have her but he does every couple of months and my parents have passed away. My Fiancée's parents live 4 hours away from us, so its not so easy for them to have her, although they sometimes have her in the school holidays for a few days for us.
We're having date nights again more now as we are able to leave our daughter at home for a little bit on her own, as she has her phone (and everyone's phone numbers), we have security in the home and she is very mature for her age, but we still don't have a healthy balance and I'm not sure what else to do.
Does anyone have any idea's what we could do to help bring in a healthier balance for everyone? Any suggestions, or anything will be greatly appreciated.
TIA! C

'Ello! I've got a question!
So, I've never been to a doctor and I think im okay, but i have some things that i dont understand why i do. It may sound funny but when i get too happy i kind of, tense up my muscles? Usually hands and arms and make odd movements with them(not like a crazy man tho); I love patterned day to day activities; i can't stand to hear the sound of some words; i cant stand getting my fingers dirty by food otherwise i have to clean them right away..h cant really tell anyone this so.. hoped id find some support here ^

To live in the Undead Burg is a daily test of one’s wit and their will. The brutish and dull fall to the cunning, and the weak intellectual tears their own mind asunder. For those who escape the Asylum, it is sometimes enough to make one consider voyaging back to their cell.
After all, only a few are Chosen.
In the lower levels of the Undead Burg, a cloak of rat skin fluttered behind a walking corpse as they hurriedly turned the corner of a short length of stone stairs, slamming the shield of a hollow soldier against the ground just as the claws and fangs of the first hound rose to meet it. In truth he lacked the strength to properly defend himself with the thing, to raise it with only one arm and withstand a blow with the same, but it didn’t matter here. The lower corner of the shield lay braced against the bottommost of a length of stone steps. This, with his shoulder pressed against the shield’s top, made progress against him nearly impossible for a foe so light as this.
If idiocy was to lose one’s common sense, then it couldn’t account for the stupidity of an undead hound. The corpse raised a spear over the shield and swung it downward in a pathetic arc, the wood slapping against the metal with hardly a noise to report. Seeing the motion, the dog leapt sideways out of some horribly trained reflex, and in this manner crashed into large pile of eternally burning corpses. It yelped as the heat caught it, spasmed as it searched for purchase amidst the mass of charred bones and melted flesh, and promptly died. The commotion brought with it the sound of distant footsteps, and soon another beast had run headlong into the shield. This one took two similar “attacks” of the spear to repeat its fellow’s mistake, and the one after it four.
To think he had once been terrified of these things, and discovered his tactic in panic.
Beside the steps was a well, and (after a moment to ensure no further dogs were coming), it was this against which the corpse laid his heavy shield. The next test between him and his goal would require agility, something ill-afforded with such heavy hardware. For this, he turned his attention to the well’s crank, and set thereafter to turning it. From the depths was raised a target shield tied in place of a bucket, and upon it a collection of bones, a severed hand, a ring, and a candlestick. The corpse laid the miscellaneous treasures aside, untying the shield and equipping it to his left arm.
The first two thieves were marked by buckets… or rather, the buckets were set in place to tell the thieves which doors were to be hid behind. As travelers came and went, the buckets would roll down the hill as they were knocked aside or blown by the wind or carried around by the dogs, and thus the thieves’ stations would move. When it was determined one had rolled too far down the decline of the alleyway, an annoyed thief would inevitably carry it to a more desired station, pretend it had always been there, and hide themselves behind the newly marked door. It was possible some band of thieves set this tradition in place long ago and retained the habit after they’d eventually gone hollow, but proving this thought today would be nearly beyond impossible. The reasoning didn’t matter to the corpse, of course, but the effect he used to his advantage.
The tops of the doors he adorned with knives from the Lady of Moss- blades up, such that the forceful opening of the door would spin the knives just right to sink their poisonous bile into the victims below. What additional wastes and acids the corpse had applied need not be mentioned by name, only that they shared their patron creature with the leather cloak on his back. With his work done, he now walked the side of the alley as any clueless traveler would have, and awaited the springing of the trap.
As always, the third and lowermost thief signaled the attack by kicking open their door. The two now behind the corpse followed, and shortly thereafter issued their raspy exhales of pain amidst the clatter of falling steel. The corpse charged. The leader hurriedly reached for their throwing knives but was swiftly force-fed the edge of the corpse’s shield, thusly to be brought to the ground. Here was the corpse’s blade drawn, its cracked and jagged tip turned down towards its latest prey.
When skinning rats, it is important that one carries a sharp blade. This both to pierce the thick hide, and to avoid unnecessary damage to the intestines, stomach, and other usable bits lying beneath. Replacing the rat with a hollow, the corpse preferred the tip of a broken straight sword to the edge of his usual dagger. The motions made indeed bore some crude similarity to his work when harvesting leather, but the abandon of care became only more evident with each forceful cut and flailingly resisted gouge. In the end, what remained could hardly be discerned from a spot of muck on the road, a hollow-faced madman above it.
Further down, beyond a second set of stone steps, was another favorite spot of ambush for the thieves. The mutts at the end of the alley had long since devoured whatever scraps had been used to position them, and so readily charged forth at the beckoning call of the corpse. They found at his feet the now separated legs of the corpse’s most recent kill, adorned in many fresh gouges and oozing with a pungent liquid. The source of this meal mattered not to them, and so they eagerly set to work engorging themselves on the new flesh. So single-minded were they, intent on ridding themselves of the insatiable undead hunger that plagued them, that neither one slowed as a white foam began to pour from their mouths. Their stomachs first bulged, then split apart and spilt what little they had for content as the acid worked its way through. Their legs gave way from beneath them, first the hind, then the front, and yet still they desperately swallowed more of the decaying flesh and embedded stomach-skin pouches that rapidly digested them in return. When at last the pair had at last lost such strength as to no longer reach the meals inches away from their first gasping, then whining maws, the corpse delivered their mercy. A swift kick, and what little remained of their necks gave freedom to their lifeless skulls. The thieves, meanwhile, bore no challenge the corpse had not already faced. Knives over the first few doors, the greeting of jaw and shield, the pillaging of another victim. Nothing unusual, and nothing of note.
With the capra demon gone, some “chosen” adventurer having long since vanquished it from realm, little now stood between the corpse and… her… save only one thing. The corpse took the last flight of stairs three at a time, ricocheting off the wall on the outside of its only turn and bounding towards his target.
There she was, out in the open as always. The corpse sprinted down the stairs and, after passing a blind corner, set his left foot forward and crouched to halt his considerable momentum. The ambusher behind him was easily parried as he brought his shield up and behind him, cracking something in their forearm or perhaps their wrist. Not bothering to waste time, the corpse’s broken blade was brought upwards through the ambusher’s jaw until it snapped the bit bone between their eyes. This done, the corpse wrenched his weapon up and sideways with a hollow “pop” as the neck gave leave of its skull. The body collapsed to the side, its head twisting unnaturally upwards and backwards as it freed itself of the blade. The corpse, unbothered, bore no interest in holding either aloft. Now he turned, inspected the last of the thieves, and after a moment returned his blade to its holder.
“You are Patient.”
This first time he’d uttered the phrase, the last word was merely an attribute. ‘Twas a description of the one hollow that could be shot with any arrow, afflicted with any pain, and would yet remain loyally in her position. To be fair, it wasn’t for great gift a choice, as the position of “live bait” was reserved only for whichever of the thieves had been deemed least desirable by the rest. What caused this, and whatever penalties lay for abandoning of the post, were matters the corpse could only assume. The important part was that it was her, the thief who had become “Patient” by name. At their first encounter the corpse had considered dispatching her like the rest, but had hesitated in piercing her skin. He still bore the scar about his neck that she had given him for his idleness, and she still wore the rat skin “grieves” he’d forcefully tied to her for a marker. As time passed, the two gradually traded more scars and more black fur hide between them- the corpse receiving the former, Patient gaining the latter. He had stripped her and tied a pelt about her chest which lay now beneath her leather armor, he’d fashioned a double-thick leather stock to protect her neck, and though he tied gloves to her at a point she’d taken great effort in cutting them off. All this he had done across many visits, through much pain, and at expense of his best materials. Todays gift had by far been the hardest to craft- a thrice layered leather helm affixed on one side with a jawbone to replace what he’d broken so long ago.
His approach was slow, and well-rehearsed. At about ten paces, Patient’s patience finally broke as she ran for him. Today she chose to hesitate upon reaching him, though he'd learned this was by chance of random choice than any form of compassion. The corpse waited for the attack, not daring to kick another outcast as he had once been in life. She tried first her more viscous pattern, a pair of vigorous strikes that slid across the corpse’s target shield rather than bouncing away. She completed the maneuver and immediately prepared for a more powerful, slamming attack, granting the corpse the opportunity he had been seeking.
As she brought her blade down, the corpse deftly batted her strong hand away and gripped her shield with his open hand. Having no further need for his own shield, he cast it now away and spun the patient thief ‘round. She made as if to leap upward and over the corpse, but the maneuver was one he’d long since learned to counter. He stepped back, spinning himself so as to bring her sideways and around and down into a prone position with his right elbow along her back and his left hand pinning her knife arm down.
His next task, before gifts could be given, was to ensure he received no further scars in return. Placing his knee at her back to free one of his hands, he drew from beneath his cloak a coil of red twine fashioned from the same rats he’d skinned for his gift… some of the same, at least. With great effort, the twine was managed around the thief until she could no longer terribly well resist, and her hood was pulled back from her head.
Seeing the sunken red skin, the glowing eyes, the bare teeth, it reminded the corpse of life in the Pit of Outcasts. It was there he’d met the kindest of the living, the most desperate of the poor, and occasionally even a soul or two willing to speak or come close to him. ‘Twas a place for the diseased, the undead, and those criminals deemed too vile to disgrace the hangman’s noose with their neck. It was there he’d learned to knit and to sew, skills gifted to him from an undead woman not terribly discernable from the one before him now. The main difference, at least for now, was the slack jaw broken in uncountable pieces during their first encounter.
Casting the memories aside, the corpse set to his work. The leather about the thief’s neck stilled her head a little, but precisely cutting the skin beneath her jaw to remove the old bone was still a difficult task. The end result was unsightly, and it involved more than a few excessive cuts from the patient’s constant struggling, but it was enough to work with. Removing the old bone took a great deal of time thanks to the many fragments hidden in odd bits and pockets of flesh, but sliding the new one into place and wrapping it in the old muscle proved as easily said as done. The most tiring part was retying the cuts back closed, as the thief regained and continually demonstrated a greater ability to bite and snap as the corpse made more and more progress. The last of these gaps closed, the corpse finally wrapped the rest of the leather helmet about the thief’s skull and tied the loose end to the other side of her new jaw with more twine. It wasn’t his best work, but it was the best he’d done on something still kicking around.
Patient’s hood was returned to its proper position, and the corpse took hold of a length of twine connected to a slipknot in the middle of her back. Midway up the last stretch of stairs he’d come down, the twine was pulled and the knot it held gave way, restoring the thief her freedom. Knowing better than to stick around, the corpse fled to the top of the stairs, standing on the bridge overlooking her station just beyond where she would pursue. He watched as she freed herself of the last of the twine, as she looked to him, and as she eventually returned to her post. He said then the same thing he always said to her, though still he knew not if she recognized it.
“I am Aldin Paltry, the Leper of Hangknell. I will return again.”
He watched a moment more, but was paid not a glance in return. Back through the alley he went, bound for the dragon’s bridge.

I saw a lady at the grocery store tonight wearing the most gorgeous dress. It was purple with an Indian dress pattern of paisleys etc with cut out eyelets throughout. It had a belt of different but complimentary fabric. The dress is around $150. The company also makes pajamas she said.
I can’t believe I didn’t write the name down. I’ve searched the web for an hour. It’s not Plain Jane. It’s not Pyne and Smith. Nor Plain and Simple or Plain Goods.
The dress was very similar to the brand “Daughters of India” but thicker fabric. Please help me find this brand! I know it starts with a P. I know it’s two words.
I think it’s “P…and…S…” or “P…S…” so the first letter is a P and I believe the second word first letter is a S. I think the word and is used between them. Thank you!