I finally scheduled an appointment with my doctor for Monday, but GOD I need to vent.
I smoked on and off for 7 years. 3 a day for 6 months. Then half a pack for 2 years. Quit and vaped for 9 months. Quit for 6 months. Went back and half a pack to a pack a day for a year. Quit again. Back to half a pack. Quit to vape. Quit that. Quit for 6 months. Back to pack a day. Etc. The whole song and dance.
Now I've been cigarette and vape free since March. My desire to pick it up squashed. I'm only 30 and 7 years of my life went to cycling through various nicotine fixes.
Now every other morning I wake up with what feels like a chest cold in my lungs. It usually clears out by late morning... but today it was persistent. It's still going on. I feel a dry cough/tickle and like I have some kind of cold. It's uncomfortable to breathe and my muscles feel tired and sore. I thought I was over the hump of crappy health issues but I guess not.
Does anyone get anxiety post-quitting that you did too much damage and may not be able to reverse it? Is this ever going to end? I feel miserably anxious today and so guilty and ashamed.

My neighbour smokes and the cigarette/nicotine smell still gets in my apartment, even though smoking has been prohibitied in all indoor areas of the building for three years. He smokes outside but I suspect he still does indoors.
Is there a legal way to get proof that he indeed smokes inside? I'd like to bring this proof to the TAL to get him evicted. I sure don't want to do anything illegal and that would be considered harassment.

A story of a boy immersed in deep despair. Zein has been living alone for quite a long time. He was abused when he was young and his body, filled with scars. He is emotionally sensitive and has a bad temper. As he continues his depressing life, he meets a young man two years younger than him, Rain. His life began to change. He started feeling emotions that he had never felt before, happiness, belongingness, and love. Is Rain the light he needed to finally realize his worth?
Zein, a 21 year old, living in a dark apartment all by himself. He's now in college and is currently working as a part-time in a small mini mart.
Mini mart bell rings
"Welcome, please pick whatever you like and pay up" Zein's deep rusty voice greeted the customer. His gloomy emotion seems to be affecting the customer. "Do you have a box of cigars?" The customer asked. "Sorry but we ran out this morning. We're still restocking" Zein replied. "Seriously? Why build a mini mart when you can't sell what customers want?". The tone of the customer suddenly changed. "How about you get the fuck out of here before I cut your throat open" Zein glared at the customer which exited the building angrily. "I hate this shitty life".
Zein's shift finally ended and he went back to his apartment. His neighbors could feel the dark aura emitting from the room. "What are you weirdos looking at?!" Zein glared at the neighbors like how he glared at the customer. He entered his apartment and went to the kitchen to grab a knife. He pop open a box of cigarettes and started smoking while slowly cutting shallow cuts on his wrist. He has been doing this for a while. "Ugh!" Zein groans looking at the bathroom mirror.
Crash!
He threw the knife at the mirror breaking it to a million pieces. He hated his appearance. He was filled with scars. He had red eyes and slightly edged teeth. His hair was soft but rustled. He was tall with white pale skin. Many people would mistakenly think of him as a goth. At school, girl would flock around him asking him for something or sometimes even confessions. He always got confused how he got these confessions even with his appearance.
The morning came and he started to change to his uniform. He started his bike and went to school. He could answer any question at school but he is really a bad tempered person. On a specific event, he shouted at a teacher which gave him detention. His grades were always high but one specific subject, Moral, was always low. Well, it's obvious why.
Ring
The school bell rang which means class was about to begin. Their teacher, Mr. Ordoniez entered the classroom with a new student with him. "Class, before we start off, we have a new exchange student from Tokyo." The class was filled with murmurs as most of them haven't went to Tokyo yet. It's a seven hour ride from Ishikawa to Tokyo. "Quiet class. Sir Hakari, please introduce yourself." The teacher signalled the student to go in the middle of the classroom. He was slightly short with light and soft skin. His eyes were orange and brown, it looked like ambers in the sun. He had medium brown hair that we're a but curly but also tidy. He looked around the classroom and started to introduce himself smiling. "Good morning everyone. I'm Hakari Rain. I'm here as an exchange student. My parents work at the Kori.corp nearby so I requested to be an exchange student here instead. Nice to meet all of you and I hope you would take care of me" Rain's soft voice brightened the room and his smile lit up everyone's faces. "Ok Sir Hakari, please sit beside..." The teacher paused searching for an empty seat. "Beside Sir Iwatani." The teacher pointed the seat beside Zein. Everybody was shocked as they know Zein's behavior. His bad temper might spill out again. "Sir, why does he have to sit beside me. He can move his chair somewhere else you know" Zein was surprisingly calm about this but still, his glare darkened the room. "Ok, if you wish. Sir Hakari, you can move you chair anywhere you like." Rain dragged his chair away from Zein and he stole a glimpse of him. "Your eyes are so pretty" Rain accidentally said those words out loud. He blushed out of embarrassment as Zein glared at him. The room went silent as everyone looked at Rain blushing. "SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN IT". Rain apologized and hurriedly sat on his seat. The class continued and he could see Zein sleeping during class. "Psst, psst." Zein looked up to see who was calling him. "PSSST!!" Zein looked at Rain calling him. "What do you want?" The teacher suddenly went silent and called Rain. "Mr Hakari, you seem to already know this since you're talking something that isn't connected to my topic so I'll ask you a question. What is the capital of the Philippines which I mentioned while discussing?" Rain went silent thinking about the answer "Manil-" Rain was about to say his answer when Zein interrupted. "Manila sir" Rain looked at Zein saying the correct answer before him. "Hey! That was my question" Rain pouted as he looked at Zein angrily. "Maybe because I'm better than you" Zein smirked. "EXCUSE ME? Sir, please another question". Rain demanded. "Ok? What is the most famous mountain here in Japan"? The teacher asked "MOUNT FUJI!" Rain shouted his answer. "Guess I am the better one heh" Rain smiled proudly and Zein's smirk slowly faded. "Another one sir" Zein demanded next. "Ok? What continent does Japan belong to?". "Asia of course." Zein immediately replied. Rain's face could be seen and he looked very annoyed. Both of them kept demanding more questions until the class finished and in the end, Zein answered the most questions while Rain was one point behind.
Ring
The bell rang signalling everyone to go to lunch. "Who's better little mouse?" Zein smirked and went out to lunch. "This isn't over." Rain whispered to himself and sat down at his table. Zein exited the classroom and everyone started to crowd around Rain. "Wow you're so smart! I can't believe you stood up to Zein like that!" A student excitedly complimented Rain. "What's with Zein anyway? He's not that bad." Everyone went silent. "He's feared by everyone because of his bad temper. Rumor has it that he killed a student once" Another student replied. "Pfft that's just rumors. Turns out that student transferred to another school." A blue haired boy abruptly gave info about the rumors. "Hey there! I'm Nikko. Can we be friends?" Nikko went all out to greet Rain and it seemed a bit overwhelming. "Oh? Not much if a talker? Don't worry it's ok!" Nikko smiled and patted Rain's head.
-Zein's POV-
Heh. He thought he could answer more questions than me. Pathetic. I've been going over and over to that class for two years. I know the questions and the answers. Even if I don't study, I can answer any question. He was very competitive. I like it.
--Disclaimer-- This is my original story please don't repost unless if you ask permission.
Comment if you liked it and chapter 2 comming soon

I am venting and seeking advice at the same time.
Today my husband was asking for space while I literally am being met over and over again with the silent treatment on top of the repetitive physical distance (like him saying he needs space but only he knows for how long. But all he said is he needs space). This is everytime I voice how I feel that leads up to an argument or whenever I can’t accept things, it has gotten to the point where I have been begging him to stay. After every single argument, just to see him leave.
Last night was the first time where he was sitting next to me after months of neglect and having to deal with my voices and anxiety alone. On top of disrespecting myself in begging him to stay and seeing him leave though the door over and over again in my head. Hence I couldn’t accept it yesterday. I know this is unfair but I can’t help but think “Why now? Why didn’t you do this before? How dare you? Honestly maybe I like being alone more now even if my thoughts are dark.. etc etc” It’s hard… I am aware that we are humans and I want to give myself grace but I keep fighting. Fighting for his love. While I’m empty yet giving unconditional love. Only to see him walk out of the door multiple times to trigger my abandonment issues. Don’t get me wrong now, he went through hell fire in his childhood too. Got bullied in school for years because of both parents abandoning him and him growing up with his grandparents from his mom’s side. Me too, just that my parents were physically there but emotionally so absent that I always wondered why I’m even here and secretly wished they weren’t so I could at least say that they were absent like he does… Now I am not saying mine is bigger or his is. It’s never a competition of pain. But when it comes to him it feels like it is always justified and he once just pulls away cause needs space and I ALWAYS check up on him. Because I’m aware of this trauma and try to accommodate. This time however I vowed to let him come to me first cause I am TIRED of doing so over a year now and being the person to keep pushing despite being done myself. And then getting punished instead of being appreciated for it. And feeling like he just (doesn’t or?) simply can’t be there for me like that anymore. I feel like it’s selfish of him but idk if I can even claim that cause I see how depressed he looks and behaves…. It’s just a lot and I am extremely confused after being neglected for so long even if it’s “justified” from his side… For now, I am just taking time out to spend with my loved ones since I have been neglecting them for a long time in the process. And taking their word for staying quiet just to see if he will reach out first since they’re aware of the situation and me being the person who always does this.
Financially I am also thinking where all the money goes considering he keeps getting fines and got into an accident twice this past year. Where he had to file for an insurance claim but couldn’t because of the language barrier. I help him with those things now, from mails to paperwork for his fines, and many more.. But it takes such a mental toll on me that I have no energy left to think about what I want to do, what I want for the future, for my life, for my work, etc etc. He seems to be so absent minded and forgetful nowadays that it feels like I married a different man for months than the one I fell in love with. He was so active, considerate and understanding. Idk who this man is anymore other than feeling like I am talking to a wall and who prefers his alone time smoking away his cigarettes more than being with me. Any concern i voice is seen as nagging, even if done in an compassionate and understanding manner (which I admit is hard for me cause I used to have a short fuse but I have worked so hard for it and can’t help but feel resentment. Even if he says he is over it. His actions prove otherwise) and how I should have more understanding for him instead of telling him that he is slacking off. Because then he either leaves again or starts to blame himself to the point where he says I’m better off without him even when I beg him to work on himself cause I see his potential. He just has these bad voices in his head that he lets them take over and it just hurts me to see him like that but I am also very aware that it has affected me for long enough where I feel obligated to take a step back and to really sit with my feelings so I can think about everything that has been happening. Idk anymore aside from reflecting myself....
If you made it this far, thank you for reading! Any tips will be MUCH appreciated and needed!
PS: He said he will come home after work to make some pictures of tools here at my parents place that he made for work. And that if I’m open for discussion that he is open to talk and if not it’s fine by him….
Extra INFO: I’ve been very patient and have seen slight improvement in previous bad habits and tendencies he has when it comes to his behaviour. I am just not a very patient person from nature and I want to nip things in the bud and resolve conflict fast. I feel tired of being the only one coming forward for conflict resolution just to not feel heard and understood. I feel like my partner doesn’t realise how much I swallow before I explode and he runs off…
I’m aware that this isn’t healthy and it’s taking a toll on both of us. I’m just explaining my side considering we have shared expenses and I take care of our savings. Seeing how easily he says “we have 2k left” while I see it as a safety cushion is concerning me. He never used to be like that. When we started dating he had an habit of budgeting. Scheduling his payments etc etc. He was extremely responsible and financially aware! I have tried to talk him into counselling and if marriage counselling is something he is open for? Considering his trauma from childhood he has complex PTSD and doesn’t ever open up. I understand and I always tried my best to make him feel safe and that it’s okay to cry as a man and what not because i genuinely feel bad for him and it hurts to see him like that. He also stated that he cried in front of me for the first time ever and that he never opens up to anyone and he only was able to do so with him so he doesn’t really see how counseling will help… And when I try to plan counselling, something always comes up like now where it gets delayed again.. So we keep postponing it. Plus I have to plan everything. From date nights. To even my own birthday get away. (And I am sorry to say this but even my exes at least got me a birthday cake or flowers??) I may not look the prettiest like when we started dating since I gained some weight after 3 miscarriages and the hormones but I am trying my best to workout. Just to see him be happy for me but not really doing so himself… He does it once or twice and now we both stopped again. It’s like a continuous limbo we are in. I’m really at a loss for words and feel so disassociating and lost. That I’m not sure if I’m just simply the problem…
Household chores wise I do the cooking and vacuuming. He does the laundry (sometimes me too), dishes and cleans the bathroom/ sinks.
I think it’s pretty fair considering he only cooked a few times. But this is just a side note.

I wrote this for a writing prompt in writingprompts, but not many people will see it because the prompt is a little old. I just wanted to share. Wrote during breaks at work so forgive me if it’s a little rough around the edges.
The prompt was, “Watching the man or woman of your dreams fall in love with someone else.”
feedback appreciated
::Caitlyn::
I watched her through her kitchen window.
She stood by the sink—wine glass in her hand, gently swirling it as she looked at her phone. God, she was pretty tonight. The yellow kitchen light cast a glow upon her skin, and I swear she was the brightest thing in the room—more so even than the bulb itself. Fishnet lace snaked up her legs, red as summer wine, and her bathrobe parted just enough at the top to tease—just enough to draw your attention to it so that she could playfully scold you for looking.
It’s what she did.
I knew what she was waiting for, though. This was the first night he hadn’t shown up in over a week.
I didn’t get it. That guy—the guy who tracks muddy boots through the house, the guy that smokes cigarettes in the laundry room even when she specifically tells him not to, the guy who hasn’t touched a single dirty dish in as long as he’d been there—a dirty anything for that matter, and he’s the one she swoons for? Fucking bastard. That’s all he was. A dirty fucking bastard that didn’t deserve a woman even half as nice as my Caitlyn.
No, she didn’t get it—really, she didn’t and it made me feel kind of sorry for her. God, I mean if she only knew the things I’d do for her—the things that we have in common. We would be so happy together.
I like to read just like she does, the same genres and everything. I even picked up the book she started last week, and it’s already one of my favorites. She likes to jog; I like to jog; she likes binging shows; I like binging shows. Both of us have a horrible sweet tooth as well. I can never help but smile at the thought of that.
Now, it’s three hours past eight, which was the time that he was supposed to arrive. She’d moved to the couch and was lying on her back, letting one leg dangle to the floor. Blue light from the TV illuminated her features in the dark of the room, and it wasn’t difficult to tell that she was upset. God, I hate to see her cry.
Occasionally, she would glance over. She would peer out the window with that sad face and look in my direction. At first, I thought she was trying to see over me, to look over the hedge and into the trees behind her drive. After a few of her glances, though, I wasn’t sure anymore. I was almost convinced that she noticed me and was looking directly at me.
Maybe she needed me. Perhaps this was her way of saying, “Come get me, Richard.” And what if it was? What if this was my chance, and I missed it because I thought about it too hard? Maybe she knew I’d been out here, watching all along, for all this time. If that was the case, then she surely knew that I wouldn’t be able to resist those watery eyes.
It was time—time to be the man she needed—to finally confess my love for her, then hold her tight in my arms as she did the same.
I straightened myself—no more hiding. No more lurking in the shadows while she filled the void in her heart with all of these other worthless men. It was time she had a real man, a man who cared.
I walked to the door. For a second, I wondered if she’d left it unlocked for me. She’d done that before and pretended she was asleep whenever I made my way inside. She always did like to tease like that. I almost just opened it and walked straight in, but on second thought, I figured it might’ve been a little jarring. I decided to knock instead.
My throat felt as tight as a fist. Why was I so nervous? She loved me; I knew she did, but still, I was nervous. Sweat beaded down the side of my face like condensation. I wiped it away with my sleeve and took a deep breath. This was it. In a few moments, I’d finally have my Caitlyn. I’d finally hold her in my arms like I’d always dreamed.
I brought my fist to the door, and my stomach tightened into a knot.
Just as I was about to do it, I heard gravel crunch in the distance.
Quickly, I darted back into the safety of the shadows. I could see two bright headlights through the trees as they bounced down the dirt road.
It was him—the old Chevy Silverado with the silver toolbox in the back.
Of course, it had to be him.
He’d messed up this time, though; there was no way she’d forgive him now, not after tonight. With a smirk, I watched, wondering what kind of pitiful attempt he’d make to try and win her back this time, knowing that whatever it was wouldn’t be enough. Then he stepped out of his truck.
He was covered in black grease from head to foot and wore a mechanic uniform. He held something small in his arms, something with a bright red bow tied around its neck. It was hard to tell, but it looked like a little black lab from where I stood. Trustingly, it pressed its head against his chest and darted its eyes around the new scenery.
He walked up the porch steps. He was going to knock, but before he could, Caitlyn flung the door inward and glared at him. As much as I hated how she felt, that twisted expression of anger she shot him gave me more joy than I could’ve imagined. That joy was only fleeting, though. The man flashed a smile as he looked down at his arms, rubbing the puppy’s head. It melted the expression right off of her face.
“Oh my God!” She squealed, happily shuffling her feet as she held her arms out.
I was appalled. A puppy? A little dog and all of his sins are erased?
The two of them seemed so giddy together. They laughed and hugged and spoke in high voices to the puppy while they rubbed its head. The whole scene made me sick to my stomach if you really want to know the truth.
I don’t know how he did it—how he managed to weasel his way back into her heart and occupy the space that was so rightfully mine—truly, I didn’t. Who knows, maybe it was all an act. Perhaps it was her way of telling me, “you should’ve knocked.” And now, this was my punishment.
Maybe I should’ve. Maybe then I could’ve been the one to answer that door. A puppy wouldn’t soften my eyes, not like hers. I failed her, I know, but I will not fail her again. That is the last night he will ever come knocking on her door. I’m certain of it.

This last 12 months have been an amazing, yet difficult journey. Before making the life decions that I have in the last year, I realised that I wasn't someone who understood moderation - basically any easy endorphin release essentially became an emotional crutch. This has been a pattern throughout my life ranging from gaming, to weekend drink and drug binges, exercising compulsively until injury and the longest serving one binge eating.
Like many of you I have always had a rollercoaster of a BMI and along the way have probably tried every crash diet, lifestyle fads, supplements to control this but to no avail.
A year ago I had a hard, long conversation with myself and decided that in order to gain happiness and be content with my life I had to remove all the habits I've been using as a distraction in order to do the inner work I clearly needed.
Therefore, last May I decided to take the first step in quitting my vices one at a time. Firstly I decided to quit drinking & cocaine. Apart from the FOMO and missing out on the socialisation for the first couple months whilst I adjusted, it wasn't too difficult. I don't miss hangovers and comedowns & I've saved a lot of money in the past year.
At the time another reason i quit drinking was because I was constantly setting my weightloss goals back at the weekend due to losing that healthy routine. I honestly was expecting the amount of takeaways to slow down as i would have more time to cook and plan my meals accordingly. I was expecting the weight to melt off me without all those liquid calories being consumed however, that hasn't been the case.
10 months later I had started to lose weight(12kg) and was generally feeling good about myself, however I was constantly ill. I had a very bad cough that I just couldn't get rid of. The type of coughing fits that woke you up in the morning to a panic - which led to my second biggest lifestyle change - quitting smoking cigarettes & stopping biting my finger nails (something i have compulsively done for about 18 years!). I've quit smoking this in the past quite easily however, social smoking had always dragged the habit back into my addict brain.
This time was a lot more difficult. I think it's because my brain is aware that I'm chiselling away at the bad habits that I used to self medicate with. It made it very difficult to completely let go of smoking & led to a 2 month depressive stint, which I believe(hope) I am finally starting to get out of.
Fast forward 2 months from quitting smoking and I've managed to put on the 12kg I lost. The food intake has honestly been disgusting. I would be completely lying if I said it wasn't disappointed with my weight gain & it does feel like it overshadows the progress I've made in my life.
That being said, I know this is only temporary. I know that I have one final addiction, one final bad habit to over come which is my relationship with food. This time round I have no other aspects of my life to procrastinate. I have no other choice than to face this head on.
This time round I will be treating my food intake as an illness rather than as something as simple as lacking discipline. The gravitational effect my brain has towards junk food, the insatiable itch I have in my head that can only be scratched by consuming massive amounts of food should never be categorised as a lack of will power. It's not a simple problem, it's a complex web built from years of eating my life problems and feelings away that needs to be untangled.
It will take time. But my plan going forward is to journal my daily emotions and any triggers towards binges. Hopefully if I am mindful towards my hunger ques and eat with the intention of energy and not comfort, it will create the stronger foundations where I can change my relationship with food for good.
Hara hachi bun me

I'm almost 2 months into quitting smoking/vaping and I feel great. I learnt its called 'Pink clouding' when you quit and feel really good and positive.
I know for a fact that I will never pick up a vape again, not because of the nicotine but because since I've stopped I have a very different outlook on the types of people who vape and I always laugh when I see a grown man with a fruity disposable in his hand. Its just wrong.
In July, me and my mates are going away on holiday. In the past I would have smoked A LOT, but this time as much as I don't want to undo all my progress since quitting I am slightly considering if it is ok for me to have the occasional cigarette while I am away for the week. If the main issue with people having just a few is that theres a chance that they will start up again then I am not worried about that as I know that once I come home I will be back to my regular self and will even be too busy and distracted to think about smoking.
Does anyone have any advice, should I allow myself to have a few cigarettes and if I do will all my progress be undone?

Cleaned her room,deep cleaned it, taking stuff to goodwill. Goodwill doesn't want your nasty,smoke smelling junk
Took a nap from 12:30pm till 5 pm
Tried to pull an all nighter,but got headaches
Haven't eaten much today, y'all she is grifting for food money,aka junk food money, and grifting hard
Can't really eat anything till Sat or Sunday
Dad only offered her beans and rice. I call BS on that
Oh,poor you no junk food to eat
SPENT HER LAST BIT OF MONEY ON CIGARETTES
tried to stop smoking for a week, what week,every live you are smoking
Mark my words the day she gets her food stamps it's gonna be junk food,junk food,junk food
Smoking
Tara said she could not get her job back at the gas station because she kept quitting and getting rehired
You don't have a long list of medical conditions,you are delusional
Always gotta get those large sodas
Took her from 6am till noon to clean her room
Where did she get the money to go shopping at Plato's closet,where she got her 6X Tom and Jerry hoodie
She is going to the prince's ball on Sat
She will be wearing a Stitch outfit
She is only going for the food
If it's an event and it has food she's going
All she does is go in and out of the gas station
She says "bolding" instead of "balding"
Public is not my job
Smoking
Want a job where they won't push her to do stuff
Could work at another gas station,she just has to watch her mouth
Chillin at the gas station till 3am....3am
EOL

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 32:‌ ‌ The Pale Wanderer
Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1
Edited‌ ‌by‌ PatrollinTheMojave
 
Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon
 
Arc: Flesh and Bark‌ ‌
 ‌ ‌
‌  ‌ ‌
Then
An arc of purple lightning flashed across the night sky of the Boneyard, splitting the dark sky in twain as Capucine trudged across the ashy wastes of the realm. A cold gale ripped through the land, chilling the warrior to the bone, yet after centuries of time living in the Rot’s home realm, it felt identical to the ocean breeze that graced her every evening of her monastic childhood. Anxious, she fiddled with her leather armor, tightening every strap and support to make sure they were all in the right positions. She double checked that her sheath was properly tied to her belt, and that the steel sword within was sharp and clean.
He would catch up to her sooner or later, almost certainly before she made it to the portal. It wasn’t hard to pick that fact up. The Boneyard always became a little rougher when he wasn’t happy. She’d endeavored to spare him a difficult conversation, but perhaps that was too optimistic a hope. He was smart for someone his age, even if he’d made such a grave mistake.
Perhaps she was trying to spare herself the labor of having a conversation, rather than trying to keep the adolescent Avatar’s emotions in check. Perhaps she was just running from her problems, something she couldn’t remember ever doing before. Perhaps her ambitions to steer the young Avatar towards better decisions was the wrong choice on her part.
…No. Her advice was invaluable, she knew that much, and William Holland took that advice well. She just wasn’t in much of a position to give advice anymore.
Climbing atop an gray, dusty hill, Capucine gazed at the portal back to the physical world, composed of a miasma of swirling bones and inky fluids. To the unadjusted nose, it smelled absolutely foul, but to Capucine it smelled no different than the rest of the Boneyard. This was her ticket back, to somewhere where she’d do… something.
She didn’t know what that something was. In fact, she felt nauseous at the idea of wandering the world for centuries yet again with no real goal or purpose, though when considering the alternative, Capucine was ready to step right through the portal, even if her reason for leaving was so small in the grand scheme of things.
Breathless, Capucine took one step towards the portal, only for a boom of thunder to shake the realm. Capucine stopped dead in her tracks, sighing. William didn’t need to say anything to get her attention, as she turned around, coming face to face with the young Avatar.
He’d grown quite a bit in the three years she’d been advising him. His mane of red hair had regained some of its color, and across his pale face stood the beginnings of a beard, with bits of pronounced stubble around his chin and above his lips. He remained as gaunt as ever, yet he’d also grown much taller since his beginning as the Rot’s leader. He looked Capucine in the eyes, keeping his expression as blank as possible, “I got your note.”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “So you did.”
William’s bottom lip quivered, “There’s no way I can change your mind…is there?”
“Not that I can see,” Capucine remarked.
William’s head drifted to the side as he attempted to avert his gaze, hiding his eyes from Capucine behind his wild hair. He choked back something, maybe a sob, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was a mistake.”
Capucine took a step forward, feeling the urge to console the boy, yet as she reached out towards him, she found herself frozen by trepidation. She was not a woman of gentle words, and this was a situation that called for them. Rescinding her hand, she stepped back towards the portal, “What’s done is done. I do not hate you, William Arcane, but I cannot stay here.”
Capucine turned her back on William, readying herself to step through the portal. She took one step, then another before William spoke once more, “Tefé.”
Capucine stopped, electing not to turn back and face the young Avatar. Realizing that she was waiting for him to continue, William spoke again, “My sister. I know her, she’s got a good heart, but she’s not like me. She’s not an Avatar. She could always use someone to watch her back.”
For a moment, Capucine did not answer, and the silence seemed to push William to take a few steps back. Turning, he began to walk away, unable to think of much else to say, when Capucine finally answered back, “If she is the sister of William Arcane…then I know her to be someone of good character. Your advice is invaluable, Avatar. Thank you.”
Without another word, Capucine stepped through the portal, disappearing from the Boneyard. William stared at the portal for what felt like hours before he finally shuddered, his shaky breathing accompanied by a single tear that froze up on its way down his cheek, stopping short as a bead of ice just before it fell off of his jaw.
Now
“So you’re here because my brother suggested it?”
“That’s correct.”
Capucine answered Tefé’s inquiry in a dry manner, keeping most of her focus on cleaning the gasoline off her sword with a rag. She sat upon the corpse of the formerly living infected tree, using it as a comfortable log of sorts while Maxine and Tefé remained in their canoe, having managed to dock it by tying it to a nearby set of protruding roots. It was about noon now, and the Florida heat had become unbearable. Maxine wiped her forehead, expecting that she’d probably be dead without the trees as a shield from the sun.
Tefé rubbed her throat, recovering from the vice grip of the tree, “I…how is he? He’s not in trouble is he?”
“Far from it. Your brother is doing better than most. He’s got a keen mind for leadership, and the Rot endures with him as its head,” Capucine sheathed her sword. “He doesn’t need my advice anymore, and I do the world no favors remaining at his side. If I am to continue the preservation of a better world, then it’s best I accompany you instead.”
Tefé grumbled a little, but also couldn’t help but smile, “So the little rascal thinks I need a hand, huh? Thinks I need advice.”
Tefé smirked, then looked up at Capucine, “Got any words of wisdom for me?”
Capucine looked down at the tree carcass, then back at Tefé, “Don’t get grabbed by monstrous trees.”
Tefé swallowed, “Yeah…sound advice.”
Maxine stared at the water, noting that its viscosity had remained unchanged, “Uh…guys? I think there are more gasoline trees somewhere out there. I feel like it would’ve cleared up at least a little bit.”
Capucine jumped into the canoe, breaking the rope keeping it moored with her bare hands, “Then we find the source of the infestation, and remove it.”
Maxine and Tefé didn’t do anything to impede Capucine’s actions, though they were certainly taken aback by this old English era woman taking charge of their mission. Without a word, Capucine grabbed a paddle and began rowing upstream, her toned build making what was a laborious task for Tefé effortless. The trio moved upstream at a rapid pace, with Capucine barely making a single grunt or noise as she paddled onward. As the hours went by, the water to gasoline ratio of the river continued to tip in the gasoline’s favor, to the point that eventually Capucine looked like she was putting real effort into her paddling.
Tefé stared at the woman, unsure of what to make of her, “So…Capucine?”
“Yes?”
“I know your name, I know you’ve been…advising my brother. What else do you do? What’s your story?”
Capucine frowned, “To be brief…I was born over a thousand years ago in Lindisfarne Abbey. What happened after is a personal matter, and one I’d rather not discuss. Similarly, discussing how I came to be immortal, and what I’ve done in the many centuries afterwards would doubtlessly be a fruitless and boring exercise. That energy is better spent rowing.”
Tefé raised an eyebrow, “Okay….then, why are you doing any of this? What drives you to help us?”
Capucine paused for a moment, allowing the canoe to slow in its approach upriver. Then, she snorted, a small smile forming as she began to paddle once more, “I’ve lived long enough to know this is a good place, a good world. I like it intact and alive, and I’d do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”
“Uh…good answer,” Tefé turned her attention to the rest of the forest, watching carefully for threats. Capucine was certainly blunt, and maybe a little scary looking, but from what she could tell the woman wasn’t much of a danger. If she wanted to learn more, she could do that after the case of Silver Springs was solved.
Maxine grimaced, staring at the thick gasoline they were rowing through, “What do you think is causing this stuff? The closest thing I can think of is the Rot but…part of me can’t put that picture together.”
“Because this is not the Rot’s doing. William is well aware of these kinds of problems, and manages them well. He would never allow something like this to escalate as far as it has,” Capucine grunted, her sheath rattling against the interior of the canoe. “This is something different.”
“Oil’s a fossil fuel, right?” Maxine asked, “Could there be any connection?”
“Perhaps, but this isn’t just oil, it’s gasoline. It’s processed,” Capucine grunted, the act of rowing becoming tougher. “Something is turning the oil into Gasoline. Maybe it’s the trees, maybe it’s something else.”
“But what force would do that? There’s definitely something magical going on about these things,” Maxine asked.
Capucine frowned, “I am…unsure. I’ve not heard of any force that pertains to these properties. Perhaps one of them has evolved. Such an occurrence is not unheard of; the Red does it all the time.”
“Or maybe…someone’s twisting a force into something it isn’t,” said Tefé. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Eventually, the boat rounded a corner, passing another infected tree. Maxine and Tefé readied themselves, only for Capucine to keep paddling, “Do not bother with them. They’re symptoms, not the cause.”
Maxine raised an eyebrow, “And the cause is….where?”
Capucine pointed down the river, and past a muddy, poisoned shore sat an entire row of the ailing cypresses, encircling a clearing of some kind. As the canoe pushed up against the mid, Capucine trudged out, making her way towards the clearing with her hand on her longsword’s hilt. The trees seemed to regard her, blatantly still conscious, yet they did not attack. Maxine and Tefé followed in trepidation, eyeing the trees in suspicion.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Maxine asked.
“I don’t know,” Capucine remarked. “Perhaps they’re afraid.”
“Of you…or of something else?” Tefé wondered aloud.
As the three entered the clearing, they came across a sight none of them would have expected…a human heart.
It laid in the mud, rooted by cartilage that snaked its way beneath the earth. It beat with a satisfying rhythm, pulsating as if it still rested inside the body of a living man. A thick liquid permeated the mud, shifting outward from the heart.
Gasoline.
Capucine drew her sword, preparing to stab the heart with it. Eyes wide, Maxine jumped in front of her, “Woah woah woah, what are you doing?!”
“I’m removing the problem,” Capucine remarked.
“But…but…we don’t know what this thing even is?”
Capucine sneered at Maxine, “Is it not obvious? Someone or something has perverted an object of the Red, and that infection is spreading to the Green. With its removal, this area can begin healing.”
“How can you know that for sure? I’m the Avatar of the Red, and I can’t feel any trace of the Red in there,” Maxine exclaimed.
“Then the corruption of the object has completely overridden its connection to the Red. All the more reason to destroy it.”
Maxine whirled around, staring at Tefé for help. Tefé opened her mouth to protest, yet she was unsure of how to proceed. On the one hand, the Green was suffering, this place was suffering. Getting rid of the heart seemed like the right answer, yet Maxine was right as well. They knew practically nothing about this heart, and if the trees weren’t attacking them, maybe it was an invitation to learn more.
Before she could voice her opinion on one approach or the other though, a new voice made itself known, a raspy, texan accent that came from vocal chords that didn’t realize they were long past their expiration date.
“Well, if you’d let me speak…I’d love to tell you why I deserve to live!”
The trio assumed defensive stances as the ground rumbled around the heart, at which point a dozen or so ribs began to poke out of the mud around the heart, followed by rotten yet well preserved flesh. The heart and ribs rose with the flesh, revealing a man with an open chest as he picked himself up from out of the mud. He was wearing an old coat and pants, and wore only one sock on his feet. Inconsistent, matted hair hung from his head, covered up slightly by a ruined cowboy hat. An ugly stubble dotted his cheeks, paired with yellow teeth and milky white eyes. He smiled, raising what looked to be an old revolver to his chin to scratch it with the barrel. With the other hand, he reached out to shake any of the trio’s hands, “Howdy folks. Pale Wanderer, representing the Parliament of Gears…how are you doing this fine day?”
The trio looked at each other in confusion, then Capucine spoke, “What are you? Are you the cause of the Malady plaguing this land.”
“Well…I wouldn’t call it a malady per-se! More of a necessary sacrifice.” The Pale Wanderer tipped his hat up. “As for what I am? Well honey…I’m a crusader. A force meant to alleviate suffering, and right now? That suffering is…well, it’s not exactly something any of the flora or fauna here really give a shit about.”
“And what’s that?” Tefé asked.
“Well…it’s a bit of a logistical nightmare to explain, but it starts with oil!” The Pale Wanderer gestured towards the ground. “We’re a car based society, here in the United States I mean! Trouble is, gas prices are fuckin’ outrageous these days, right?”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “I do not see how that should concern us.”
“I’m not finished!” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “The average American has to pay an arm and a leg for gas nowadays, and they need gas if they want to get anywhere. Have a job, wanna see family, need to make a trip to the grocery store? Need to pay for gas if you wanna to any of that! Trouble is, gas comes from oil, and oil? It’s getting rarer by the minute…that’s why I made this place!”
The Pale Wanderer raised his arms, gesturing to the gasoline laced mud and the producing trees, “Think about it! More Gasoline means the market price of Gasoline’s gonna go down, which means gas is cheaper for everyone! At least, I think that’s how it works! Plus, my Gas is A+ quality, even comes in Diesel!”
As The Pale Wanderer continued on about his tirade on Gas prices, Maxine and Tefé shared a confused glance at each other. They’d never encountered something like this before, something this unusual, this keyed in and calculated in purpose yet scattershot in reasoning. The only thing two of them seemed to fixate on though was something the Pale Wanderer said when he introduced himself.
The Parliament of Gears.
Tefé stepped forward, “You said you were part of the Parliament of Gears? What is that? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Oh, That’s cause we’re new on the block, sweetie, but glad to be here,” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “Not qualified to sell them overall though, you’ll have to talk to marketing for that.”
“Enough!” Capucine declared, holding the point of the sword at the Pale Wanderer. “Your reasons for poisoning this place are simplistic and needless. Leave, or I will make you leave!”
The Pale Wanderer raised an eyebrow, “See, now I don’t like comments like that! We’re all just having a lovely discussion and now all you wanna do is escalate! Things don’t have to be this way! Maybe we can work something out?”
Tefé glanced between Capucine and the Pale Wanderer, making an educated guess that Capucine wasn’t the type to back down in these sorts of situations. Furthermore, she had a point. This place was suffering, and no matter the Pale Wanderer’s intentions, that was something that wouldn’t stand, “We don’t want to fight you, but what you’re doing is…horrifying. You’re killing everything around here for…Gasoline! We can’t stand by and let that happen.”
The Pale Wanderer glanced at Tefé, a glum look on his face. Maxine seemed to be holder her breath somewhat, but there was no question that she was on Tefé and Capucine’s side. Sighing, The Pale Wanderer scratched his thigh with his gun, “So that’s how it is?”
Capucine’s grip on her sword tightened, “That’s how it is.”
The Pale Wanderer pursed his lips, “...Well, if we’ve got no more words to share…I guess we better hop to it.”
The wanderer raised his revolver, only for Capucine to surge forward at lightning speed, piercing him in the heart with her sword. For a moment, he was still, motionless, and Capucine stared him dead in the eyes. Then, he shifted, and after meeting her gaze, he began to laugh, his guffawing causing gasoline to spurt from his heart and onto Capucine’s sword and armor, “Hah! Good try!”
Capucine attempted to back away from the Wanderer, only for him to grab her wrist, keeping her and the sword wedged firmly in his body. Raising his weapon, he prepared to put a bullet in Capucine’s eyes, only for her to deliver a swift fist to his arm, knocking the gun out of his hands. Smiling, he took advantage of his newly freed hand, grabbing her by the throat and squeezing tight. As Capucine struggled for air, the Wanderer could only hoot and holler, “Whooo-weeee! We’re getting down to it now!”
Maxine and Tefé rushed to help the ancient warrior, only for a mob of living trees to encroach upon them, blocking their way while attempting to grab or smash them with their heavy branched arms. Maxine dove to the left, dodging the crushing slam of one tree, while Tefé slipped through the roots of another, narrowly avoiding being picked up again. Separated, the two tried to get a read on each other while avoiding harm, yet it was difficult for either of them to really do anything to help Capucine.
They were both far from the Red and the Green’s safety. No animal would go anywhere near the Pale Wanderer, meaning Maxine’s powers were utterly neutered. Similarly, there was no living plant life near the battlefield, meaning Tefé couldn’t use her powers either. If they wanted to get out of this, they would need to think outside the box.
And that’s when Tefé spotted the Wanderer’s revolver sitting in the mud, and a wild idea crossed her mind as she scanned it and the gasoline laden ground around it. She glanced at Maxine, then to the gun, and Maxine seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. It was a gambit, an insane gambit, but without much power to draw on, it might be their only shot.
Together, the two began to race for the gun, trying desperately to keep out of the reach of the trees. Tefé tried to get there quickly, yet she found herself pursued by a half dozen trees, pressured by their presence. Maxine was closer, and managed to pick up the gun as Tefé was halfway over, only for a tree to come barreling towards her. She whirled around to run, only to snag her foot on a dead root, causing her to trip and fall. Afraid of losing their one chance at Victory, Maxine shared a split second look with Tefé before throwing the gun towards the Pale Wanderer, just as the tree came down on her. It stretched out its arms, its branches ensnaring her and trapping her in place.
Her mind in overdrive, Tefé pivoted and raced for the Pale Wanderer, leaping over the swinging branches of another tree in order to catch the gun. Capucine gasped for air, her eyes glazing over as the Wanderer choked the life out of her, laughing like a madman. With the trees about to grab her, Tefé leapt for the Wanderer’s back, looping one arm around his neck to hold on while planting the gun’s barrel against the gasoline soaked sword, “Stop!”
The trees froze in place, including the one holding Maxine captive. The Pale Wanderer raised his eyebrow, loosening his grip on Capucine and allowing her to breath, “What’s this now? Ready to call it quits?”
Tefé gritted her teeth, “I’m ready to make a deal, and if you refuse, I’ll blow us all sky high! Even you won’t survive that, will you?”
“The hell’re you…” The Pale Wanderer looked down at the gun planted against the sword, and finally realized what was at stake. There was a reason smoking a cigarette at a gas station was a stupid idea, and Tefé was willing to demonstrate. A bullet crashing against steel would cause sparks, and sparks can light many fires, especially ones where the ground was soaked in gasoline. She’s set miles of forest on fire, to nuke the entire place from the ground up….and from the tone of her words, the Wanderer knew Tefé meant it, “Ohhhhh…Clever girl….Ha! So, you’ve got me. What do you want from me?”
Tefé let out a grunt of exhaustion, “I want you…to fuck off and never come back here. Got it?”
The Wanderer chuckled, then winked at Capucine, letting go of her and allowing her to pull out the sword, “Well then, a deal’s a deal.”
Snapping his fingers, The Wanderer watched as every tree around him began to dissolve into an inky ooze, including the one holding onto Maxine, who became drencheds in the stuff. Similarly, the Wanderer himself began to dissolve, though much more slowly. As he sank into the earth, he looked up at Tefé and Capucine, “This place’ll return to what it once was, but don’t count me out just yet. We’ll be seeing each other…oh, and keep the gun. Think of it as a gift from little ol’ me.”
Eventually, the Pale Wanderer was gone, not even his hat remaining, leaving Maxine, Tefé, and Capucine to stare at the spot he once occupied. The crisis at hand was solved, at least as far as they knew, but the problems were only just beginning.
A new force of nature was here, and it did not seem to be a peaceful one.
 
Next Issue: A Trip to somewhere new!
 

Cigarettes and rebellion have always gone hand-in-hand, and in an age of cigarette packet-sized health warnings, now more than ever, smoking a fag says: 'I do not give a fuck.' But if Brandon Flowers is hoping to strike a seditious pose by sparking up at the start of the interview, it's not going according to plan. The Killers' frontman is on all fours rooting through the junk that carpets the anteroom at the band's rehearsal space. "Has anyone seen my lighter?" he asks, rocking back on his heels. The question hangs in the air while Brandon cocks his head, waiting for an answer like a meerkat listening for a predator. Twenty-five years old and with a delicate bone structure, there's something almost dainty about him. Receiving no response, he returns to his search. "Oh, Jeez," he sighs. "I had it just a minute ago."
It's a scene that emphatically does not suggest a rebel without a cause. The mess isn't helping. The Killers' HQ - an industrial unit sandwiched between a construction supplier and the offices of a housing development just off Dean Martin Drive in West Las Vegas - is ankle-deep in designer clothing. A Dior Homme suit lies crumpled by the door; there's a pile of shoes topped like a sundae by a pair of Marc Jacobs trainers; and anyone wishing to enter the shoebox room the band use as an office must negotiate a mountain of discarded jeans. Many items are identifiable as coming from the wardrobe of Hot Fuss, The Killers' hugely successful 2004 debut album - triple platinum in the UK with two weeks at Number One and five million sold worldwide. Look! There are the shirts, ties and suit jackets they wore when they thrilled Glastonbury 2005 with indie rock anthems Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me. That was the crowning moment of a two-and-a-half year tour that finally concluded in October of last year. It seems that after playing that final date in Miami, they returned to Vegas and shrugged off their image onto the floor of this bland white box.
Now a fine layer of dust covers the dead clothes. The Killers have no further use for white tuxedos on their second album, Sam's Town. Today, Brandon wears a black polo shirt, black pin-stripe waistcoat, black jeans and black boots. Where there used to be a layer of foundation, there is now a beard - an untrimmed beard at that. Dave Keuning (30, guitar), Mark Stoermer (29, bass) and Ronnie Vannucci (29, drums) all echo Brandon's black ensemble. Ronnie has added Aviator shades and a handlebar moustache for a dash of motorcycle cop, Dave's frizzy bubble of hair gives him a Marc Bolan-ish air, and there's something very teenage about Mark's scuffed Vans.
Short of walking around wearing sandwich boards saying, "Our new record is a bit heavier than the last one," The Killers couldn't hope to communicate that message more effectively. And they have gained some musical girth on Sam's Town. The pop hooks that made Hot Fuss so irresistible survive intact - see the ringing guitar riffs on first single When You Were Young - but there's a newfound punchiness, coupled with an epic sweep. The minor-to-major uplifts on Bones are fabulously dramatic, the coda to Why Do I Keep Counting? thrillingly intense. Comparisons to Bruce Springsteen have been made. If they overstate the case a little, they are at leaset qualitatively accurate. The Killers are back and this time it's serious - they've got the bootlace ties to prove it.
"Hey, it says here that Springsteen's headlining Glastonbury next year," shouts Ronnie, who's flicking through the NME. He nods sagely at the page without looking up.
"Really?" asks Dave, nicknamed Crazy Dave on account of his alledgedly volatile nature.
"The Boss is headlining one night, we're playing second on the bill the next night and Kylie's headlining the Sunday," says Brandon, charging like a bull through Michael Eavis' as-yet-unannounced line-up with what subsequently proves to be a characteristic gaucheness.
But that lighter is proving elusive. This being America, none of the people hurrying to-and-fro prepping the world for the release of Sam's Town smokes. Manager Robert Reynolds - Bobby Rey to the band - barks into his mobile, booking his band onto eye-wateringly demanding tours. "We're going to make a lot of money," he cackles to himself before switching calls to make a series of stern pronouncements on legal matters. Dave, Mark and Ronnie disappear for a jam session. Artwork is approved, B-sides are decided on and schedules are hammered out.
"I can't find it," Brandon says, finally. But he's not going to be denied the opportunity to underline The Killers reinvention with a puff of smoke. "Let's go to the gas station. I'll have to buy one. It's too busy to talk here anyway."
+
Brandon's black (of course) Volkswagen Touraeg four-wheel drive is barrelling down West Flamingo Road into town. "I was a bell boy there," he says, pointing out of the driver's window at the stucco facade of the Gold Coast casino. "I was working there when we were signed."
Coming from Las Vegas, it is perhaps inevitable that casinos play a big part in The Killers' story; not only is Sam's Town named after one, it was recorded in one, too.
The band began writing songs while on the road with Hot Fuss, turning up early for soundchecks to run through new ideas. On a trip home to Vegas, George Maloof, a hotelier known for cultivating famous friends, invited them to record the album in the new studio he'd built at The Palms, his flagship hotel-cum-gambling den. When the tour finished in October 2005, they returned to Vegas and spent five month finessing the songs they'd sketched out on the road. Then, in February, they decampled to the third floor studio at The Palms and recorded Sam's Town over 11 weeks.
Producer Flood (U2, Depeche Mode) encouraged them to experiment. They overdubbed, fiddled with synthesizers and played with new equipment. It took them five weeks to get the backing vocals right. The band sang the harmonies, then double-tracked them four times. The end result recalls Queen wondering, "Is this is the real life? Is this just fantasy?" When Ronnie, a trained classical percussionist, brought some kettledrums down, eyebrows were raised; but the fabulously bombastic coda on Why Do I Keep Counting? vindicates his indulgence.
"That's kind of the Ben Hur of the album," he says. He's not wrong. Sam's Town is a record on an epic scale. "Yeah, it has drama," he continues. "But, at the same time, I think it's a little more exposed than Hot Fuss. It's a little more naked. Last time it was about a lot of fictional things." By "fictional", Ronnie means that Hot Fuss wore its predominantly British influences for all to see. Brandon's taste in music is rabidly Anglophile - he constantly references The Smiths, The Cure and Joy Division - and it showed. By contrast, Sam's Town is an unequivocally American record. The lyrical imagery is pure American dream - cars, girls, wide-open spaces and escaping to a better life. "We're burning down the highway skyline/On the back of a hurricane that started turning/When you were young," sings Brandon on When You Were Young. That's the basis of the Springsteen comparisons then, though the lack of pathos more closely recalls another blue-collar rocker from New Jersey - Jon Bon Jovi.
The phrase "this town" recurs throughout the album, and it's always receding into the distance as The Killers escape to a new life. "This town was made for passing through/I never did get along with everybody else," sings Brandon on This River Is Wild. On Read My Mind he "never really gave up on breaking out of this two-star town", while on the title track he offers something of an explanation: "Nobody ever had a dream round here."
"With the first record, there was this feeling that there was this world out there that we didn't know," says Mark later in the day. Before The Killers, he studied philosophy: now he's their quiet one. "We wanted to get out and away from this and be somewhere else. We hadn't had a lot of experience - hadn't travelled much - then we were gone for three years. We didn't sit down and say that we wanted to make a record about how we're glad to be home, but that's what happened naturally."
It's not an angsty record. The Killers have already escaped with Hot Fuss, and, having done so, they view the experience fondly now they're back. There's a mistiness to Brandon's eyes as he explains how the album got it's name.
"Sam's Town is a casino on the edge of Vegas," he says. "I grew up in Henderson, which is out on the way to the Hoover Dam. My mom and dad lived in a trailer park, and my dad used to hitchhike up and down Boulder Highway, which is the only way you could get to Vegas. Sam's Town was the first thing you saw on your way in to town. So, when you're driving down Boulder Highway from Henderson, I always thought you finally knew you were getting somewhere when you saw Sam's Town. It was kind of like a beacon."
"It's not a completely American album," contines Brandon. "We still have our English influence, but we're also from the Wild West. Somehow we've managed to unify all that on this album. it's just such a perfect resemblence of what we are."
At the petrol station, Brandon rummages through the glove box looking for change to buy a lighter. "This is a great album," he says, pointing at Highway Companion, the latest from iconic American rocker Tom Petty. "I've always been a big fan of his. He's such a great American artist."
Yes, Brandon: we get the point.
+
When Brandon finally lights his cigarette, he smokes it awkwardly, like a child mimicking something he's seen the grown-ups doing. However, when he cheerfully admits that, "I feel the same mentally as I did when I was 12," it's not a knowing nod to the fact that he sometimes behaves like a loveably precocious child, but a reference to an unusually comprehensive grounding in pop music at an early age.
When Brandon sings about "this town", he doesn't mean Las Vegas. He means Nephi, Utah or Henderson, Nevada, where he spent his childhood. His parents are Mormon and he is the youngest of six children. "I was a surprise," he says. "I've got a 42-year-old sister." If he was issues about his "surprise" status, he chooses to gloss over them. "It turned out perfect because my brother was a teenager when I was a kid," he says. "He would bring home things like Rattle And Hum by U2 and I would watch it. I remember he bought Live In Dallas by Morrissey. It was always him watching these things, or his door was shut and you'd hear The Head On The Door by The Cure blasting through the house and rattling the walls."
The Killers were formed when Brandon answered an advert Dave had placed in a local paper in late 2002. Dave cited Oasis as a big influence; Brandon had seen them play recently and responded; and, as Dave has said in previous interviews: "He was the only person to reply to my ad who wasn't a complete freak." However, the band was born in Brandon's brothers bedroom.
"His room was like a shrine," enthuses Brandon. "It was a holy place. I wish I could show you a picture of it. It was covered in posters. There'd be a big picture of Elvis wearing a bow tie that just said 'The Smiths' [the artwork for The Smiths 1987 single Shoplifters Of The World Unite]. You had The Cure wearing face paint [the artwork to The Cure's 1985 single In Between Days] - all that kind of stuff. I remember Morrissey being on the cover of the NME, with the halo [from 1985] - stuff like that. You just wanted to know about these people 'cause they were so cool. My brother seemed like such a cool person. But he was a teenager, so he wasn't going to be that nice to me, a kid."
Brandon was fascinated by his brother's collection of music, magazines and posters, but he was denied access to them - officially, at least. "I would sneak in," he says. "I knew he'd be angry if he found out, but I would go in as soon as he left the house." For a long time Brandon was too scared to actually play anything. "That didn't come 'til later. I just used to go in there because I liked it. Then I got to the point where I'd actually take a tape out and put it in. It took more guts to do that."
It was a life-changing moment. "I was ten and the first song I played was Sing Your Life by Morrissey. I remember dancing about to it."
The lyrics to Sing Your Life include the lines, "Sing your life/Just walk right up to the microphone/And name all the things that you love/All the things that you loathe." It's intriguing to wonder what Morrissey makes of the neophyte he inspired with these lines.
Eventually, Brandon inherited his brother's tape collection. "It was around the same time CDs started coming out in a big way. He started buying CDs and gave me his tapes. And that was it: it took off from there. I got a hundred of the best albums - all the New Order, all the Morrissey, all The Smiths, The Beatles. I started buying posters. I went to see The Cure in concert. It was just kind of a continuation of my brother. And it was nice because, though my parents were strict, they were already used to it from him. There was no, 'My dad doesn't understand me,' or any of that kind of stuff. My mum likes The Smiths."
Brandon was 13 and his favourite band was late-'70s/early-'80s American new wavers The Cars, and particularly their jaw-droppingly catchy 1979 single Just What I Needed.
"I wouldn't exist without that song," he says. "That was the one. I remember driving around with my mum when I was 13, and we're living in Nephi - a really small town - and I felt so cool when I put that song on. Like: 'I have something that none of these kids I'm going to middle school with tomorrow have.' That excitement is what music's about, isn't it? That's why I understand the mentality of people that don't like us because we've sold so many records. I used to like it when no one else knew about a band. So I get that - I do."
+
Brandon's first band was called Blush Response. It was never going to work out. Not because he refused to move to Los Angeles with them, but because he is utterly - comically - shameless. He's given to making outrageously boastful statements like: "It's not like the '60s, '70s and '80s now. There are only a few bands around that are really good, that just do it. I mean, there's what, five or six of us?"
For the record, in Brandon's estimation, those bands are Franz Ferdinand, Razorlight, The Strokes, The White Stripes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and, of course, The Killers.
"I don't want people to think I'm lumping myself with other people just to make us sound cool," he says. Really? It sort of sounds like you are. But he just steamrolls through it. "Yeah, but you know what I mean," he says, grinning at his own cheekiness. He's so disgracefully forward you can't help but laugh along with him - Oh you are awful, Brandon! But joking aside, The Killers are the most commercially successful of all the bands he mentions.
Later, back at the rehearsal space, the band run through Sam's Town at deafening volume in preparation for the forthcoming tour - first the US, then the world. The infectious, almost contagious, chorus of When You Were Young sounds fabulous, as do the U2-like guitars and Twin Peaks synths of Read My Mind. Meanwhile, Smile Like You Mean It and Somebody Told Me benefit from the newfound harder edge.
They somewhat heavy-handedly underline the new direction by playing Paranoid by Black Sabbath and Get It On by T Rex. That's the thing: The Killers are not a subtle band. Their songs are like a wet kiss from a girl who's a bit too drunk. They are big and brash, and not everyone loves them for it. Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me might go down as well at hip nightclubs as they do on the festival circuit, but the DJs play them with the same guilty look they wear when playing a pop record.
"I hate that," says Brandon. "Like writing a song you can hum somehow cheapens it? It makes me think of this quote by Morrissey. Everybody knows how he read Oscar Wilde, Keats and Yates when he was growing up and that he wanted to be a writer. He was talking to this journalist who asked why he hadn't become a writer, and Morrissey said: 'What I do is more powerful than what you do because I can write down these words and you get it to a melody. How can you beat that?' I'm of the same opinion. I don't understand why a good melody that's memorable is a bad thing."
Being dismissed as pop particular aggrieves Ronnie. "When we first came out we got compared to Duran Duran all the time. Jesus Christ! We got a keyboard player now all of a sudden he's Nick Rhodes! Come on!"
"The people who criticise us for being too poppy don't get it," agrees Mark. "I think that's the problem with a lot of rock music. People are afraid to write a song any more. Either that or they can't. And that attitude hurts music in general. The best bands ever have all written great songs. You can still do it and do it intelligently and it can be original. This isn't a studio creation with a producer writing these songs for us. We're not Avril Lavigne, or something like that. We're a real band writing real songs, just like a punk band would do, except that we write pop songs."
You get the impression that The Killers knack for showboating pop hooks that border on vulgar is inextricably tied up with the brazen side of Brandon's personality. But while his ebullient charisma, not to mention the songs themselves, mitigates his outrageousness, there is a less attractive side to his ego. He has a combative streak. He can't resist taking pot shots at emo bands, notably Fall Out Boy, whith whom The Killers share an A&R man.
Has he heard how many emo kids it takes to change a light bulb? "No." None. They just sit in the dark and cry. It's a full 30 seconds before he stops laughing. When he does he admits: "Yeah, we've had problems with other bands. You know, when you walk in the room it's like..." He whistles the theme to The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. "We're like gangs."
And while the other members of the band are diplomatic on the subject of Brandon, you don't have to read too deeply between the lines to conclude that there have been internal issues, too.
"Some people will think Brandon's the big genius," says Dave, visibly bridling. "There are songs, such as Why Do I Keep Counting?, where he's written every note. But there are others, like When You Were Young, that were more of a collaboration - like Mr Brightside, where I had some of the music and Brandon came up with the lyrics. We always have arguments about who wrote what. The truth is that we all help in that process."
When asked how success affected them, Ronnie says: "There were certain things that needed adjusting. When you're on tour for two years, people can get a little needy. It doesn't help that you're surrounded by yes men and everybody's working for you. At times we've had to say, 'Who do you think you are?' to people. No one wears the trousers, but some people would like to. I think if it wasn't for the people in the band kicking each other in the ass... Let's just say there was some ass-kickin'."
It doesn't take a genius to work out whose ass needed kicking most often.
+
It's the following day and The Killers are back at their rehearsal space. The topic of discussion is what to wear in the video for Bones, the second single. It's a big deal: the director is Tim Burton. "I feel like Frank Sinatra when I sing it," announces Brandon. "With maybe a little bit of Morrissey and a little bit of Elvis, too."
Of course he does. But if securing the services of Tim Burton tells you one thing, it's that The Killers are about to get even bigger, perhaps even make the leap to the same level as Coldplay et al. Already stars, they are about to become superstars. Brandon can hardly wait.
"Do you know that Rolling Stone didn't want to put us on the cover last time," he says indignantly. "They didn't think we were stars. We sold five million albums! What more do they want from a band?"
Whatever was required, Brandon would be happy to do most things. "I'll do stuff that some people don't want to do, 'cause I want people to hear the music," he says. However, even he has limits. "The Rolling Stone thing made the record label think: 'What can we do to make them stars?' If I go on vacation with my wife, do they have to send somebody to be there to take pictures of me? Is that how you become a star? I don't want that. I walked down the red carpet one time and I realised I don't like it. But you don't have to walk down the red carpet for people to hear your music. We do still have some of that indie blood running through our veins."
He heads off at a tangent: "When you walk around Liverpool, you think of The Beatles, or you go to Manchester and you think of The Smiths or Oasis. I want you to come to Las Vegas and think of Sam's Town. And I think we've started to capture that, which is a truer version of The Killers, 'cause that's where we're from."
He pauses.
"I used to live across the street from Sam's Town. Maybe it'll be like our Abbey Road where people go to take pictures."
Is that what he'd like?
"I wouldn't mind it," he says, desperately hoping it will come true.
He puts a cigarette between his lips, looks down at his trouser pockets and pats them in search of the lighter he bought yesterday.
"Hey, I don't suppose you've got one?"

So yeah... this is a post where I review all 5 Cage The Elephant albums. Pretty simple. These are all reviews that I originally wrote on an app/website called "Musicboard" over the past couple weeks, but I've copy-pasted them here for your reading convenience. Hope you enjoy & I hope to to talk about these albums with you!
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Self Titled

Probably their weakest album to date, but still a pretty solid debut overall.
I hate to be so predictable, but the best song here is still “Ain’t No Rest for The Wicked”, and it ain’t even close. It’s extremely fun & catchy, it’s the album’s most sonically distinct piece BY FAR, and it’s storytelling/pacing are both absolutely flawless. A track that absolutely deserves it’s iconic status.
Even though the record’s best isn’t up for debate, there are some other pretty good highlights as well. “In One Ear” is a very solid opener for the project, “Judas” gives us consistently excellent lyricism, and “Tiny Little Robots” has an uncharacteristically super atmospheric bridge which makes it stand out quite a bit. It also transitions super smoothly into the following “Lotus” who’s engaging pacing, beautiful chorus, & satisfying climax make it another easy favourite for me.
But then beyond the lovably visceral energy of it’s closer, “Free Love”, Cage The Elephant’s self-titled debut really doesn’t give me a whole lot more to talk about. It’s got consistently great musicianship, a decent number of highlights, and some bizarrely excellent song transitions, but the album has a really bad case of being FAR too samey. Everything outside of the tracks I’ve already mentioned blend together in my mind almost completely. None of them are bad, but none of them are particularly memorable either.
This album is still pretty good at the end of the day, some solid garage rock fun, but Cage’s later projects would all feel a whole lot more distinct & purposeful.
Best Songs: Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked, Lotus, & Free Love.
Weakest Songs: Drones in the Valley, Soil to the Sun, & Back Stabbin' Betty.
This album gets a strong 7/10 from me.
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Thank You, Happy Birthday

It may be a little all over the place, but it’s still a pretty big improvement over their debut.
For one, the sound of this album is FAR more lush & vibrant than that of their debut. The guitars here are especially brimming with so much more life & colour than they were on their self-titled record. Another big improvement is that record is how much more variety this album has. It’s an incredibly stylistically varied project, and while that does lead to it feeling a little messy every so often, it’s all still held together very well by excellent & super aesthetically consistent production.
The album starts out quite strong with “Always Something”. The ominous guitars, raw vocals, & slight electronic elements all combine to make for a rather gripping opener. Other highlights include “Shake Me Down” which I love for it’s percussive acoustic guitars & personal childhood nostalgia, “Aberdeen” which I love for it’s super catchy melodies & powerfully mixed guitars, as well as “Right Before My Eyes” which has a similarly excellent sound & a surprisingly moving chorus.
This record also contains a lot of the most loudly abrasive material that Cage have ever released... to very mixed results. You have tracks like “Sell Yourself” & “Doctor Help Me” which are just sorta forgettable, a song like “Indy Kidz” which has a fantastic instrumental alongside an unfortunately & obnoxiously tryhard vocal performance, but then you have “Sabertooth Tiger” which is actually one of my TOP favourites here. The chaotic viscerality of this one feels so much more natural than those other tracks, as well as SO MUCH more invigorating. I really wasn't expecting to love it so much upon revisiting it today, but it very much surprised me.
On the other side of the coin, we also have a couple distinctly lowkey moments that I’d like to talk about. “Rubber Ball” is a very pleasant track with a slightly jaunty charm to it, but even more pleasant than that is “Flow”. My favourite song on the whole album. It’s not a particularly sad song, nor is it like STUNNINGLY beautiful, and yet… I often find myself close to tears when listening to it. If I had to put the feeling into words, I’d say that the atmosphere of this song is so perfectly tender & existentially content that it’s… genuinely overwhelming. I yearn to forever exist within the powerful sense of peace that this song provides, but I can only do so for 3 minutes at a time & that makes me wanna cry.
Overall, “Thank You Happy Birthday” is just a WAY more consistently enjoyable project than their debut. It has cleaner production, a far more memorable aesthetic, a greater sense of sonic exploration, better vocals for the most part, MUCH higher highs, and far fewer lows as well. Other than those “forgettably abrasive” songs which I talked about 2 paragraphs ago, the only significant lowlight for me would be the underwhelming closer that is “Carry Me In”. The record honestly should’ve just ended with “Flow” cuz these final 2 tracks which come right after just aren’t very interesting.
But yeah, other than having a significantly weaker closer, this album is an improvement over their first in every single way.
Best Songs: Flow, Sabertooth Tiger, & Aberdeen.
Weakest Songs: Doctor Help Me, Carry Me In, & Sell Yourself.
This album gets a light to decent 8/10 from me.
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Melophobia

Don’t you love it when an overall “pretty good” discography randomly contains one genuine masterpiece?
I absolutely ADORE this record, and I don’t even consider Cage The Elephant to be one of my all time favourite bands. They probably wouldn’t make my Top 25, but “Melophobia” specifically is easily one of the best albums I’ve ever heard, and (now that I no longer listen to Arcade Fire) my personal favourite release of 2013. At the very least, it’s a stiff competition between this & Daft Punk’s “Random Access Memories”. I’ve gotta go track by track with this one in order to effectively convey my love for it so buckle in!
“Spiderhead” is a genuinely perfect opener for the record. It conveys to us ALL of the project’s best qualities while never feeling like it’s spoiled the album for you. The best is still very much yet to come. We’ve got scuzzy guitars that feel both authentically raw & immaculately produced, super catchy melodies delivered through a very precise yet slightly wild vocal performance, and also this really cool “glitched tempo change” at the end which gives this specific song a very unique flare.
“Come A Little Closer” is probably the most popular song here, and while it’s not my personal #1, it is still absolutely deserving of that status. The verses ease us in with a super slick bassline, some incredibly atmospheric guitars/synths, as well as a grippingly moody vocal performance. All of which come to a head on the track's spectacularly explosive choruses which still manage to fit the song’s moody tone flawlessly. The bridge here is also excellent with an extremely effective build to the song’s final & most explosive chorus. LOVE this track. Iconic shit.
“Telescope” is even more iconic though. It’s the best thing that Matt Schultz has ever written & it’s not even a contest honestly. We open with some tenderly playful synths which eventually give way to an equally playful yet distinctly melancholic vocal performance & lyrical story. This leads to the song’s incredible chorus which only becomes more emotionally powerful each & every time it’s repeated, but it’s the bridge here that really elevates the track into something truly spectacular. It’s so instrumentally frantic & vocally raw while still miraculously fitting into the song’s overall tenderly melancholic atmosphere. Such an evocative masterpiece. Unquestionably one of my favourite songs of all time.
“It’s Just Forever” is frequently maligned as the album’s one & only dud, but other than some admittedly awkward tonal whiplash between it & the last song, I still think it’s a fantastic addition to the record. We’ve got some wonderfully visceral guitars, a delightfully wild guest vocal performance courtesy of Alison Mosshart, and an outro that predicted the “Untitled Goose Game” OST six years in advance. What’s not to love?
“Take It Or Leave It” has a super chillaxed atmosphere all throughout, but never in a way that becomes boring. The chorus is super catchy, I enjoy the slight country-isms of the track, and the guitars sound amazing… but that’s definitely starting to become a moot point in this review. SUCH a vibe of a song.
“Halo” is probably the least uniquely remarkable song here. I don’t really have anything specific to say about it, but don’t think for a second that I mean to imply it’s even remotely weak. It’s still a banger.
“Black Widow” is an absolute BLAST of a song. The gritty rock’n’roll instrumentation along with those seductive vocals are obviously fantastic, but the star of the show here is undoubtedly the brass elements. The blaring horns on this track, whichever ones they are exactly, are sheer musical euphoria. That brief moment during the bridge where they completely overpower the rest of the mix is especially stunning. This is another one of those songs that I often hear people proclaiming as one of the album’s worst, but I think those people are weak. This song is nothing short of SPECTACULAR. Such a wonderful rush of visceral energy.
“Hypocrite” serves as a very nice change of pace for the record. The incredibly unique drum rhythms & overall slow pacing really make it stand out here. We’ve got a decently moving chorus, some nice brass elements yet again, and while said brass elements aren’t nearly as impressive as last time, these horns still fill out the mix very nicely & aid the song in having an even more unique energy than the aforementioned odd drumming was already giving it.
“Teeth” is the most perfectly unhinged thing that Cage The Elephant has ever released. In my review for their previous album, I talked about how certain tracks there often struggled to nail the balance of “controlled chaos”. Songs from that record which attempted this mostly just felt messy instead of compellingly scatterbrained. “Teeth”, on the other hand, achieves that balance effortlessly. Everything about this track is marvelous madness. The frantically abrasive guitars, evocatively strange lyrics, rivetingly unrefined vocals, and OH MY WORD that outro. After being a badass rock song for about 3 minutes, this shit randomly decides to basically become spoken word jazz at the end, and it works miraculously well. The lethargic bassline, the dour brass elements, the lyrics rich with meaning that’s hard to fully grasp. The whole thing is genuinely quite unnerving, but in a way that’s always still very enjoyable to listen to.
“Cigarette Daydreams” is a very interesting closer for this album. The acoustics & pianos are both incredibly pretty, the vocals & melodies are both really moving, and the whole experience is extremely immersive with it’s atmosphere. It’s a truly beautiful song on it’s own as well as an extremely anticlimactic ending for the record. But to explain why I actually mean that as a positive, I need to talk about “Teeth” again. Keep in mind that everything I’m about to say here has absolutely NOTHING to do with the lyrics of these songs. It’s simply my mind creating a story by interpreting the emotional atmospheres of both tracks.
“Teeth” is like witnessing or being involved in some sort of traumatic event. It’s a chaotic mess that leaves you deeply unsettled. Horrified even. Like being the bystander to a uniquely bad car crash. The kind where gorey death is very clearly visible. “Cigarette Daydreams” contrasts “Teeth” by being easily the most tender & simplistic song on the album. It’s very comforting with it’s musicality, but what I love here is that it’s not quite “cathartic”. It’s not a release of tension or an eradication of negative emotion. It’s like being frozen with shock after witnessing this crash before someone else eventually arrives to comfort you. This comfort feels nice & brings you back to your senses, but you’re still not ok. You still witnessed something horrible & a quick bit of comfort isn’t going to immediately fix that.
That’s the story I read from the tonal dichotomy between these 2 songs. A story of horror followed by incomplete comfort. It’s not a satisfying ending for me, but it’s such a specific & evocative kind of dissatisfaction that I can’t help but be fascinated by it. A super cathartic track full of positive emotion & grandiose beauty wouldn’t have worked here at all. Something quietly comforting that’s lacking in huge catharsis is the only way this could have gone. It’s the only ending that makes sense directly after a track as wild a “Teeth”. Again, NONE of this has anything to do with the lyrics. Just sheer emotion.
In conclusion though, I really fucking love “Melophobia”. It’s got perfect pacing, perfect production, tons of variety, so many excellent highlights, and one of the most memorable album endings I’ve ever experienced. The band’s whole discography is undoubtedly quite good, but this record is still LEAGUES above anything else that came before it, and so far, anything that has come after.
Best Songs: Telescope, Black Widow, & Come A Little Closer.
Weakest Songs: haha no.
10/10. Masterpiece.
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Tell Me I'm Pretty

It’s a HUGE downgrade from the last album, but still a decent enough listen.
It’s a stiff competition between this & their self-titled when we’re deciding which Cage The Elephant album is the weakest. They both exist on pretty much equal levels of “unremarkably decent”, but I think I’d probably give “Tell Me I’m Pretty” an ever so slight edge over their debut. Even though I’m ultimately gonna give them the same rating, I think this record has a few more significantly notable qualities.
“Cry Baby” is a very solid opener & “Mess Around” is a delightfully nostalgic single in spite of literally just being a Black Keys song, but it’s only on tracks 4-7 where this album really hits it’s stride. “Too Late To Say Goodbye” is very methodically emotive, “Cold Cold Cold” has some super fun percussion & an engagingly dazed sense of atmosphere, and “How Are You True” is one of the prettiest songs in the band’s whole catalog. The choppy vocal effects are extremely immersive, and the lowkey energy of it all is wonderfully hypnotic.
It also transitions very naturally out of the song right before it. That song being “Trouble”. The strongest piece of this album by a pretty wide margin. The backing vocals are beautiful, the chorus is really impactful, the acoustic elements are particularly well utilized, and the whole thing truly feels “Melophobia quality” while still being sonically distinct from that project. After this 4-7 stretch however, the album’s final 3 tracks don’t give me a whole lot to talk about.
I enjoy the spaghetti western vibes of “That’s Right” decently enough, but “Punchin’s Bag” is one of the most forgettable songs that CTE have ever made, and even though it’s a decently fun track on it’s own, “Portuguese Knife Fight” has almost no real impact as a CLOSER. Which is particularly disappointing coming right off the heels of a record with one of the most impactful endings I’ve ever heard.
So yeah… “Tell Me I’m Pretty” definitely isn’t bad, but it definitely ain’t special either. It’s unenergetic in a way that mostly feels ill fitting of the band, Dan Auerbach’s production is solid but also extremely homogeneous, and lots of Matt’s vocals here feel way more “performative” than they do natural and/or “from the heart”. I do still enjoy this record for it’s excellent musicianship, generally solid song writing, and handful of wonderful highlights, but something definitely feels a little off about it all.
They just weren’t in peak form here. Which, again, is not a very pretty look right up against one of the most PEAK albums of the 2010’s.
Best Songs: Trouble, Cold Cold Cold, & How Are You True.
Weakest Songs: Punchin’ Bag, Sweetie Little Jean, & Portuguese Knife Fight.
This album gets a strong 7/10 to me.
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Social Cues

Not without it’s problems, but undoubtedly some of their strongest material to date.
This is pretty easily their 2nd best album if you ask me. It’s nowhere NEAR as good as 2013’s “Melophobia”, but it’s not like I ever expected them to reach those heights again. Cage The Elephant are an overall “pretty good” band with one exceptional masterpiece that came out of nowhere. But in terms of the rest of their “pretty good” discography, this is a very enjoyable album… even if it is VERY front loaded. Tracks 1-7 are all fantastic with only one exception, but then tracks 8-13 are all super forgettable outside of a couple key exceptions.
Let’s talk about that excellent first half though. “Broken Boy” is an immediately gripping BANGER of an opener with viscerally crisp production, The Title Track has a wonderfully psychedelic soundscape to it & one of the band’s catchiest choruses ever, and “Night Running” is a song that’s always gotten way too much hate in my opinion. I can KINDA understand the aversion to how sheerly radio friendly it is, but the vibes are again delightfully psychedelic, the Beck feature suits the track flawlessly, and there’s this extremely appealing sense of… idk “fuzziness” to the production on the chorus. Super sonically satisfying stuff.
Other great moments from this first half include “Ready to Let Go’ which was a perfect lead single for the record, as well as “Skin And Bones” which has a really moving chorus & some beautifully implemented strings, but easily the HARDEST banger of the whole project comes to us in the direct middle. “House of Glass”. This is one of the spectacularly wild things they’ve ever put out & it’s an absolute BLAST to listen to. The sly vocals, viciously vigorous guitars, and perfectly chaotic production all come together to create one of their best songs to date. LOVE IT.
Now for that relatively lackluster 2nd half. “The War Is Over” actually grew on me quite a bit this time around which I wasn’t expecting, but we still have songs like “Dance Dance” which feel distinctly lacking in creativity, “Tokyo Smoke” which frankly just feels kinda aimless to me, as well as “What I’m Becoming” which, in an attempt to sound soft & lowkey, just comes across as rather drab. These songs are all still “decent” at the end of the day, but they absolutely do not live up to the consistently high quality of that first half. Where this 2nd half DOES shine however are in it’s softer moment’s that aren’t “What I’m Becoming”.
“Love’s the Only Way” is SUCH a lovely track. The light guitars, the ethereal string sections, the tender vocal performance, the vividly “late night” atmosphere of it all! It’s easily one of the most beautiful glimpses into their softer side that the band have ever given us, but even more beautiful than that is the album’s closer & best song BY FAR, “Goodbye”. The lyrics are absolutely heartbreaking, the pianos are extremely moving in spite of being so very simple, and the bridge here is beyond fascinating to me.
There’s this part of it’s instrumental that’s either a muted piano or the pitched down plucks of an orchestral stringed instrument. Whatever the hell it is, it gives me chills damn near every time I hear it. There aren’t even lyrics during this part, but it still manages to be one of the most evocative depictions of sadness that I’ve ever borne witness to. Undeniable proof that sound alone can often speak SO MUCH louder than words. This has been my go to “depression song” for YEARS now & I don’t see that changing any time soon.
So that’s “Social Cues”! It’s definitely got some issues, but I still like it quite a bit. It’s got a really fun new sound for the band, a decent amount of variety, consistently excellent lyrics that are largely about Matt’s, at the time, recent divorce, and some of the highest highs in their entire discography. It’s undoubtedly frontloaded, but still a very satisfying album experience overall. I mean it’s kind of impossible NOT to be satisfied with a closer this stellar.
Best Songs: Goodbye, House of Glass, & Social Cues.
Weakest Songs: What I’m Becoming, Black Madonna, & Tokyo Smoke.
This album gets a decent 8/10 from me.
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Well that's the post! Hope you enjoyed reading it & I'd love to discuss any & all of my takes in the comments!

I know us older millennials are among the last to grow up when smoking was still pretty common. My parents didn't smoke, but I had friends whose parents did and the smell of cigarette smoke reminds me of hanging out at my friend's houses.
Similarly, I was at a gas station a couple days ago, this woman pulls up to the pump next to me and opens her door and I get hit with the smell of stale cigarette smoke. Instantly I think of riding in friend's (and friend's parent's) cars and used cars that I bought in the past.
Am I weird or does anyone else get this too???

"Sammy!" Gus's voice cut through the chatter of the dimly lit bar.
The tall, sharply dressed man swiftly made his way to Gus's table. "Gus?"
"You got any smokes?" Gus's request was direct.
Sammy reached into his pants pocket, retrieving a carton of cigarettes. With a deft movement, he opened the lid and offered one to Gus.
"Thanks." Gus accepted the cigarette, placing it between his lips.
"You're welcome, Gus," Sammy replied before heading back to the bar.
"Wait, Sammy..."
Sammy paused a few steps away, turning to face Gus.
"You got a light?"
"Sure, Gus." Sammy returned to the table, producing a lighter from his pocket and igniting Gus's cigarette.
"Thanks." Gus took a drag, the tip glowing orange in the dimness.
"You're welcome, Gus." Sammy retreated to the bar once more.
"Where the hell is Vinny?" Gus turned to Tony, who was meticulously counting cash at the table.
"He said he had to deal with something for Mikey Sacks."
"Since when does he cozy up to Mikey S?" Gus questioned, exhaling smoke.
"I don't know," Tony replied, still engrossed in counting. "He said it was urgent and-"
"Joey!" Gus's face lit up as a young man entered the bar. He rose from the table, arms outstretched.
"Get over here, kid."
Joey approached, reciprocating Gus's embrace. Gus planted a paternal kiss on Joey's head before gesturing for him to sit.
"How you been?"
"I'm alright, Uncle Gus," Joey replied, taking a seat.
"I thought you ditched us, kid?" Tony extended his hand to Joey.
"Aw, c'mon, Uncle Tony," Joey grinned, shaking Tony's hand. "How could I forget about you guys?" His gaze turned to Vinny's empty seat. "Where's Uncle V?"
"That's the question of the hour, kid," Gus remarked.
"That's a lot of dough, Uncle Tony. Who'd you shake down?" Joey's eyes flicked to the piles of cash on the table.
"Hey, watch it, kid," Gus retorted with a smirk. "I'm a legitimate businessman here. No shaking down involved."
"Yeah, sure, Uncle G," Joey chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes.
"What brings you to the world-famous Pinucci's Pizzeria?" Gus inquired with a grin. "Don't tell me you need money," he added playfully.
"Nah, I was actually looking for some advice," Joey replied.
"If advice is what you're after, then you've come to the right place," Tony chimed in, taking a brief break from counting cash.
"Uhm..." Joey hesitated, glancing at Tony. "I was kinda hoping Uncle G could help me this time."
Gus let out a hearty laugh. "Keep counting, Tony," he said, waving off Tony's offer of assistance, who chuckled to himself and resumed counting.
"What's the matter, Joe?" Gus inquired, attempting to take a drag from his already extinguished cigarette before discarding it on the floor.
"Well..." Joey began, "I met this girl..."
"Wait," Gus interrupted, his attention drawn to a commotion outside the window.
"Is that Vinny?" Gus pointed towards the window.
"Shit," Tony muttered as he swiftly rose from the table and headed to the door.
"Marty, Lefty," Gus called out to two men sitting at the bar, who immediately turned their attention towards him.
Gus gestured towards the disturbance outside as he followed Tony out the door.
The two men from the bar swiftly rose and followed Gus and Tony outside. As they emerged onto the street, they were met with a grim sight—Vinny on the ground, being assaulted by a group of attackers. At the sight of Gus and his companions, the assailants scattered in the opposite direction down the street. Marty and Lefty chased after them briefly before returning to the scene.
"Oh my God, Vinny," Gus exclaimed, rushing to his friend's side. "Can you hear me?"
Vinny, conscious but unable to speak, laid on the ground, his clothes stained with blood and his usually impeccable hair now disheveled and dirtied.
"Tony, get the car!" Gus ordered urgently.
Tony dashed off to retrieve the vehicle.
"Joey, help me lift him," Gus instructed.
Together, Gus and Joey carefully lifted Vinny from the ground.
"Marty, Lefty!" Gus called out to the men who were returning. "Hurry up!"
The two men quickened their pace, jogging back to join Gus and the others.
Soon, Tony pulled up to the curb in the car. One of the men opened the rear door, while the other assisted in getting Vinny into the vehicle.

i smoke montego red 100s, i have a lot of experience with a wide variety of substances and firmly believe there is something off about montegos. They occaisionally taste very off, one of my friends describes the weird taste as being extremely similar to spice(k2) when the cigarettes feel weird they tend to make me feel slightly impaired they often cause a strange spacey almost trippy mindset that lasts up to 15 minutes after i smoke them, the effects and tastes seem to vary and not all the cigarettes in a pack will do this, i have an extemely high tolerance to nicotine and dont get a buzz even from the first cigarette of the day anymore. the weird feeling i get is nothing like a nic buzz. i take a full spectrum urine analysis multiple times a week and dont test positive for any of the 93 drugs they test for so i think its some strange research chemical or a variety of unregulated chemicals. i dont get these effects from any other cigarettes i smoke. does anyone here have similar experiences?

For context we have been married for 3 years and together over 4. He used to be aware of his surroundings and considerate of any sort of habits he has but now he has no consideration when he’s hocking up loogies in the trash, burping and farting during dinner, farting on me, and then proceeds to try to shove his tongue down my throat, grope me, and as horrible as it is to write and admit.. flop his dick and balls telling me he has something for me..it’s just so gross..
He loses his shit anytime you tell him anything you don’t like. You might as well tell him he’s not worth air if you express you don’t care for something he does. I do my best to be clean and considerate about any bodily functions. I blow my nose in the bathroom with the door close so no one has to hear it, to give you preface on how I carry myself.
The last thing I want to do is have sex with this man after he does all this nasty shit all day long. Yes he smokes cigarettes so I’m sure that’s a lot of it but why does it always have to be so loud and right in front of me? He’s constantly hocking stuff up or spitting every 20 seconds. It’s gross. He’s gross. I literally have to just deal with it and attempt to ignore it otherwise he picks every little thing I do apart that he doesn’t like. How do some men expect women to get on their knees at any given second when they act like absolute cavemen? He has become the furthest thing from a gentleman. How do y’all put up with shit like this?
Edit: let me reiterate.. he has not ALWAYS been like this. I wouldn’t have tolerated this from someone I just met. This started approximately a year ago and it progressively got worse. There’s been more than one conversation about it with him.

Does smoking make it worse? Is it true that psoriasis on the palms is directly linked to smoking cigarettes ? Please tell me

So, our neighbour (23F) is an absolute NIGHTMARE- we got on at first but once the following situation happened, she turned volatile and unhinged. “Jane” is a single mother with a 5-year-old & a 4-month-old. It’s just our two houses connected and our front gardens are connected with no fence/wall boundary. Important to note she has family and friends very locally that come round a lot.
So, a few months into living here, my partner (29M) and I (24F) go to tidy our front garden and notice there’s loads of cigarette ends. Neither of us smoke and neither does Jane but we have seen the mum (visits a lot) smoke out the front of the house a lot and usually has a cup used as an ashtray. We assume she’s thrown them on the floor or the cup has knocked over and the wind has blown them into our garden- annoying but no biggie. We look closer and there are A LOT of cigarette ends, not just a few so I politely text Jane informing her of the situation and ask if she can come and clear them up as there are quite a lot. She replied bluntly saying they aren’t hers. I replied I know she doesn’t smoke but we know her mum does and say again I know it was probably the wind blowing them but there are quite a lot so can she come clear them. She says her mum doesn’t smoke out the front- only the back, I say we have seen her out the front smoking, she then says her mum puts them down the drain (illegal where we are). I replied saying can you please just come sort them out and she never replies. We don’t put a time limit on it but we leave it a week and no-one comes to clear them up. We contact our local council about them (in case it happens again) and they said take pictures, bag them and count them and then return them to Jane. So that’s what we do…
42 CIGARETTE ENDS!! My partner (I’m disabled) goes outside to clear them up after a week. I was stood near him and about halfway through Jane leaves the house with a guy & the pram and they both stopped, stared at us and then just walked off. When we’d finished, taken pictures etc. we wrote on the bag “42 cigarette ends”, sealed it (Ziploc bag) and threw it over the back garden fence into their garden. A few hours later she comes home and finds them, takes a picture and messages me saying “Thanks for throwing these in my garden knowing I have children”. I then pointed out that they were in a sealed bag and that originally, they were all loose in her own garden where her child could have picked them up, eaten them etc. and I asked her a week ago to pick them up.
For additional context, Jane has always been abusive to her kids (we’ve heard and seen a lot) and we were constantly contacting CPS and all sorts so her saying we don’t care about her kids is a joke because we cared more than her (I don’t know if Reddit will let me say what she’s screamed at them). I also have enough drama from this neighbour I could write a GD book!!
So Reddit, AITAH??

So, I have been making a sorta OC x Crowley fic (though it could pass as fem!Aziraphale x Crowley) but I am quite unsure whenever share it on AO3 as I am a terrible writer and am sorta hoping to make something better than typical wattpad stories. So wanted to ask if you think its good idea so far. And as a bonus, here is the art for the scene (And yes, I share both story-one where Crowley actually dyes his hair since "ginger lawyer does not exactly look much professional") as well the canon Crowley:

... As I neared the completion of my sketch an hour later, my attention was drawn to the man seated across from me. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, bringing it to his lips with practiced ease. I watched in silence as he inhaled deeply, the smoke curling around him in lazy tendrils. It was at that very moment when I looked at the man as in if he was a close person, not a strange to ignore. And to be fair, it would be lie to say he was not catching to an eye. I watched as the man slowly closed and opened his eyes, his soft dark lashes trembling as he inhaled and exhaled in peace. His eyes were dark, yet so warm one would think I was staring inside of a cup of hot chocolate at the Christmans Eve. The man barely did anything, just smoking and reading his book, his hands once in a while fixing his slicked back dark locks... and yet, he seemed to as if he was the sun, making himself the center of my universe.

Something was special about the man, and as I hated to say it, he did made stare. "Hm?"

Our gazes met in an unspoken exchange, his eyes holding mine with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "What?" he asked simply, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the train.
I almost yelped from a surprise, hesitating for a moment before speaking, my words getting lost on my tongue. "Nothing. I... I didn't know smoking was allowed in here," I admitted, my tone tinged with surprise.
The man shrugged nonchalantly, tapping the cigarette on his wrist before responding. "It's electronic," he explained casually. "I prefer the real thing, but this will have to do for the ride. Does it bother you?" ...

https://preview.redd.it/5xx9dwztuk0d1.jpg?width=3840&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1b1d49f5799d6431310d2f8b5165811f43bf292d
https://preview.redd.it/6xxv60pyuk0d1.jpg?width=3840&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e278285dcbdbcd05b79f9d33a7169da46b0342b1
I will be glad for any feedback and enjoy the art! <3

Doing the school run there at 9am and passed a guy walking his kid to school absolutely stinkin of weed. Smelt him from a mile away. You can't go anywhere without smelling it now of course, all times of the day, but is it so hard to at least wait till your kid is in school before getting baked? Have you no self control or discipline at all? The kid has got to be running around smelling of weed too if not getting passively high
I'd stress about the most trivial of things trying to raise our kids right, feeling bad taking any time for ourselves and worrying if you handled certain situations correctly, and then Snoop Dogg here walks past who puts it all in perspective.
Basically am I wrong for thinking anyone who does drugs (any drugs) around kids is a complete immature dick who shouldn't have them? Weed seems so normalised but just like smoking cigarettes around kids or drinking around them it isn't acceptable.

[TW]: insects, SH
I woke up two days ago with two itchy bites on my ankle, and it's all been a whirlwind from there. I've pretty much convinced myself that I have bedbugs living in my bed, based on the following:

1. The two bites I've described, plus some other skin irregularities/itchy patches (the latter may be imagined) I've noticed on my body.
2. A blood patch I found on my bedsheets.
3. Something I found on the floor, which I took to be a molted bed bug shell.

Now, from a rational perspective I know I'm overreacting completely. And here's why:

1. After discovering the bites, I found a mosquito in my room. Though the bites don't look like other mosquito bites I get and were somewhere that I assumed was covered by bedding while I slept. But it's still probably the mosquito, and if not, I did sit the night before in my friend's car, who recently got a dog. It's possible they could be flea bites.
2. The blood patch looked fairly old, and by Googling it seems bed bug blood patches would be smaller and darker. It's also possible either my girlfriend or I had a spot/pimple that bled in our sleep - we both have some on our back.
3. That "shell" I found was the same colour as a bed bug, but apparently their molted shells are translucent, and this one lacked any "bug parts" (antennae, legs) and had a different texture than I would expect. Could just as easily have been a seed from a bread loaf.

Nevertheless here I am tearing up my mind about bedbugs, scrutinising my mattress constantly, and washing my clothes and sheets at 60° even though I usually do 40° because it's gentler. The bedbugs subreddit does not help because everyone over there seems as anxious as me, and every "is this a bed bug/shell/egg" post gets a few yes responses despite a real diversity in the pictures posted. The thing with bed bugs is they're practically unfalsifiable: they're good at hiding, so you don't see them, their bites vary from person to person, and they can go for long periods without feeding.
Like I said, I likely don't have bedbugs. The fear stems from a budget hotel my friend booked us in to two weeks ago, which wasn't the cleanest. But I did check the mattresses there, and they seemed to pass the test. My friend actually moved on to a second hotel after I went home that did have bed bugs, and he said it was immediately noticeable. I visited India last year, and when my friend jokingly talked about bringing bedbugs home on the return flight (we didn't encounter any) the thought played on my mind for a couple weeks, but this time is more intense.
The only reprieve I get from worrying about them is when I'm distracted, like at work. I did a pretty intense yoga session yesterday and didn't think about it once, but as soon as we brought the session to a close with a meditation, they were back all over my mind.
I also know that, worse case scenario, if I did have them, I'd have to call an exterminator and be out €2000, which would be utterly shit but wouldn't kill me. It's not like the bugs can kill me or even hurt me either. I thought about calling an inspector, but I don't want to spend all that money (and probably anger my landlord) just for reassurance.
I've always been an overthinker and have struggled with anxiety throughout my life. In the past year or two, though, I've noticed some more intrusive thoughts:

1. My ex and I had a place last year and she had a cat. One day when I was leaving for work I didn't pull the door all the way closed. My ex noticed and chewed me out (another story) because it was an indoor cat. But for months afterwards this led me to coming back to the house after leaving for work (sometimes already after walking 10 minutes), coming home early, or staying home completely. At this time I also had a depressive period and my work suffered for a few months as a result.
2. After my breakup when I moved into my new place, I put a hanging plant attachment into the roof and couldn't shake the feeling I'd hit a gas line, even after my Dad (a tradesman) told me they were unlikely to be in that part of the ceiling. I left on a work trip abroad the same day and for the first day away all I thought about was returning to a blown-up apartment. I had a similar feeling when my fridge gas pipe ruptured - I thought I was gonna die in my sleep and ventilated my flat for days.
3. I'm terrified of fire, always have been, but lately I've been unplugging things every time I leave my office because I'm afraid I'll burn the whole place down. I recently quit smoking with the help of an e-cigarette, but for the first week or two I had it I was often terrified it would explode in my pocket.
4. I had an unexplainable pain in my nether regions for a few months that took A LONG TIME to diagnose (turned out to be a muscle problem). But I was constantly anxious about testicular torsion and I wondered why doctors/urologists didn't care. At one point I remember telling myself "I think you want testicular torsion just so you know you're right."
5. When I leave my house I check my balcony door is locked and that the stove is turned off, usually only once, maybe twice. Regarding unplugging things in work, I've once sent my colleague to check something in my office after I left, under false pretenses, in the hope that if something bad had happened (a fire) they would notice and catch it in time.
6. I have - very, very rarely, probably less than 5 times in my life - been consumed momentarily by thoughts of self-harm. Mostly it's fleeting like the intrusive thought I guess everyone gets occasionally, just pushing your brain to consider the worst. However, twice - once after trying SSRIs for my depressive episode and again at random more recently - I had thoughts of slitting my wrists that scared the fuck out of me and sat with me for a good few hours.

I've been in therapy before for anxiety but stopped for a while because my therapist's son got really sick and stopped all sessions. When I look at all this, written out, I'm honestly starting to convince myself that the more likely thing going on here is that I have undiagnosed mild OCD.
However, these thoughts don't normally take over my whole day - I can usually get away from them if I'm distracted, and most of the time they don't bother me unrelentingly, just mildly. Also, besides the unplugging of electronics and checking of locks - which I do not do universally - I don't really think I have any compulsions. These are things I would expect if I had diagnosable OCD, though I don't know much about the condition or the spectrum it exists within.
What are your thoughts? Does it sound like anxiety or OCD experience? I'm planning to go back to therapy next month if I can (it's hard to get appointments where I live, especially in my native language), but do you have any tips for dealing with such thoughts by myself too?
Many thanks for taking the time to read.

 I, (22F), have been dating my boyfriend, (20M), for about nine months now. Our relationship is pretty good overall. We hardly get into arguments, and when we do we resolve them pretty quickly. My boyfriend’s friend (21F) has been giving me very weird vibes since I started dating him. They’ve known each other since grade school, and she has a boyfriend that she’s been dating for about the same amount of time I’ve been dating my boyfriend, however, I always feel like she’s trying to one up me in my relationship. For example, one time we were all on a discord voice call, and my boyfriend ran out of cigarettes. They live pretty close by (like walking distance from each other) and I live about 25 minutes away, plus she has a car (my boyfriend doesn’t have a car). My boyfriend had just recently talked to me about quitting smoking, so in call I basically told him to try to exist without cigarettes. However, she insisted on going to the gas station and getting him cigarettes. This kinda pissed me off because 1.) she was enabling him, and 2.) it felt like she was brown-nosing a bit. When she dropped off his cigarettes she also brought him beer (he’s also trying to drink less alcohol) so once again just enabling him. She also likes to bring up a lot of inappropriate things from their past. Again for example, before my boyfriend and I met apparently they went to an event together and shared an hotel room. She randomly brought this up one day, and sent videos in our shared group chat of them in their room. They were relatively innocent in nature, however the way she filmed him felt more crush-y than platonic. Now I’m not one of those weirdos who think men and women can’t just be friends. I’ve had male friends who I had strictly platonic feelings for. However, those videos felt like the kind of videos you take of your crush to send to your girlfriends later. She also has apparently seen his balls before, which is…? Like I get that they’ve known each other for a long time, so her seeing his balls in a non-sexual context isn’t far fetched. However, why tell me? Like why do I have to know that you’ve seen my boyfriend’s balls. She has also asked about details of our sex life and whether or not my boyfriend whimpers. I will say that I did indulge her when she asked, half because I wanted to lay claim, and half because I wanted to see how she’d react. Also going back to our group chat, originally when my boyfriend invited me she kicked me out because she “wasn’t comfortable with someone she doesn’t know in there”. I also went through the old messages to see how everybody else reacted to my boyfriend inviting me, and nobody else cared but she said “I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix relationships and friends but whatever” very passive aggressively. Eventually I was re-invited, but after I had been kicked out the first time specifically because of her I’ve been side-eying her ever since. Even yesterday while we were all in voice call she turned on her camera. After awhile of literally nobody noticing that her camera was on (except for me because I tab’d out of my game to type something) she pulled out her vape and tried to get my boyfriend’s attention. She was literally like “Hey (bfn) look at this vape I just got, you want it?”. Once again I got the ick because it felt brown-nosey. Luckily my boyfriend was too invested in his game to respond so I spoke up and said “He doesn’t vape anymore, he mostly smokes cigarettes.” So again it just felt like….girl. There’s lot of other little things she did/does that I don’t feel like typing out in depth. Like when she dropped off some weed for him and was talking to him in a low sultry voice and starring deep in his eye right in front of me (it was weird, but I quite literally was tweaking so I didn’t say anything). Also the time that one of their nonblack friends said the nword and I wasn’t okay with it (I’m black). So me, boyfriend, and a few other friends decided to distance ourselves from them and she tried to gaslight me into believing it wasn’t bad enough to stop talking to them… Like I said earlier she has a boyfriend that she’s apparently super in love with, but she seems to always direct her attention towards my boyfriend, and I want to know if I have a right to feel a type of way about it. I know that I could just be over thinking it, especially given that I have BPD, but my intuition is usually correct on things. How should I even go about this? 

TLDR; My boyfriend’s friend seems like she likes him despite having a boyfriend herself. Am I overthinking things?