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

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

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5:36 PM Wed 5/8/24
Mood: Terrible
Title: Alone
Details: Last year I was told that there is a whole universe out there of people to find. And that I was being endlessly supported and that people were inspired by me.
This year I learned what it's like to be hunted and chased away from goodness. It has been the worst year of my entire life and with the knowledge that there is a whole universe out there--I feel lonelier than I was before.
Not a single person wants well for me. I have to translate my thoughts, behavior, intentions, symptoms, and soul to everyone.
There hasn't been a single rest from it in over 330 days. Just endless messes and ridicule and mocking and advances and terrorism.
I'm thought I was tired of people. But I walk outside and love them so much. I learned I'm not tired of people. But I'm so so so tired of loneliness.
Being around others doesn't stop you from being lonely. Because I'm still translating. My thoughts and feelings are still not reaching and the obvious signals I send to others are being deflected and mistranslated.
I'm tired of translating for to others. On paper it's so easy to understand a person. Watching it's easy to understand and to judge. But actually reacting appropriately to context and injustice and neurodivergence even is so lost to people.
This is why I wanted to write my story. Because people don't know how to cope. They don't know how to accept bad things. They don't know the difference between bad people and good people and even today our societies are too primitive to understand it.
They're still theororizing, contemplating, changing information for their gain...never have I seen any type of science be so abstractly and subjectively defiled as I've seen happen with mental health and neurodivergence.
People cannot separate the symptom from the person and punish and subjugate and continue to dominate those less fortunate.
I'm glad I know what happens to people they don't like. I know how dangerous people can be.
I wish I had someone to protect me. So I still find myself praying and wishing for one person. Just one person I don't have to translate myself to. Just one person I don't have to have grow tired of me. Just one person I don't have to compete with.
Growing up I was used to competing. Siblings, cousins, friends. In public AND private school there's always someone or something to compete. Today I compete with my parents and yesterday I compete with women who love the one I thought I loved.
I grew accustomed to hating my own birthday because of jealousy around it because my uncle was upset he shared it with my brother and I. And because I could never have it the way I enjoyed later. Too much. I'm too much. Too far. Too long. Too attention-seeking.
I had my chance as a teen with two friends so why isn't that enough for me? My parents were happy that I finally was taking a break from illness but since I got what I asked for then I'm a spoiled ass. As if they ever treated me better even then. Golden children are still abused even when the roles swap. Because no pleasantness is atrocious.
My family told me I was fat and going to get diabetes and have a heart attack and die despite never talking to me and being in high school--where weight isn't even done being "distributed" until your mid twenties. Thanks to the prime golden child my sister.
I'm tired of fighting and competing to be heard and to have needs met and to come across as kind or kinder. It's killing me.
Why can't I ever just be me?
Why can't I ever just be my authentic self? The one I want to be as a form of worship? Me in all my phases and feelings?
Why do I have to stuff myself down or look beautiful when I'm suffering in order to be a good and kind person worth saving?
I understand Nettle so much now. I wish I never did.
If I didn't have vocal fry would I be loved? If I didn't have fat would I be loved? If I didn't have brown or blonde hair would I be loved? If I forgave my parents and suffered quietly would I be loved?
If I had sweet doe eyes or a light mousy voice would someone finally think I had autism?
The ones I see on tiktok are drop dead gorgeous women with huge colorful lives and opportunities and get to complain about "pretty privelege"
Some have a light airiness to them that make them seem like fae.
And there's me who never fits anywhere or with anyone.
I have nothing and no one and absolutely no point.
I was okay before--before I had drive and passion to find my people. Before I had dreams of finding my way and accomplishing things. Before I had just one person.
It's so cruel. The people in this world are so cruel. I just want one person.
One person from God--and loving can be worship too. I'm too tired for much else.
Just one person to save me from their damnation that seems to last forever.
I'm so exhausted all the time.
My body hurts. My head hurts. My nerves feel like nothing.
I feel hopeless. Empty. I feel like the woman from my dream.
I feel betrayed--like others saw my future and pushed me into it head first with some kind of pre-revenge. Pinched. Twisted. Groped. Lost. Forced.
Called an attention whore. Gold digger.
I feel confused. People are trying desperately to make sure no one understands me.
I'm one girl. Against a whole universe and groups of people.
The emotional, psychological, and societal manipulation is obscure.
I keep reading revelations 2:24 to feel better.
It feels like Thyatira. I'm trying to hold fast to the idea that God may rescue me from whatever this is. A trial--make believe--experimentation--prisonment for knowing too much.
He asks we wait patiently for him to come and rescue us.
And many biblical figures had to wait for years and years. Upwards to like 100 if you were Abraham.
So while every day things feel like battle now, I am still trying.
I want to give myself OT and PT...I've done it for others so it can't be hard.
And with the flashbacks and emotional flashbacks and meltdowns and outbursts...I'm going to try treating myself for PTSD too.
Until I get the help I need somehow--I don't know what else to do.
I know others are tired of helping me. When you don't seem to receive pleasantness it's par for the course.
But I'm tired of competing for needs to be met. Can't everyone just work harder to understand bodies and minds and signals--then people would have their needs met and there'd be no need to compete.
I'm tired of fighting for myself. I'm tired of doing it alone.
I'm tired of being with others and doing it lonely.
The world isn't just crumbling due to climate change. Our minds are shifting and crumbling with it.
It makes sense. The weather affects people. Everyone I know is so tired. There's no way we are evolved enough to know God and be in his presence. There's no way we are advanced. Even this phone feels archaic to me--the programs we use feel archaic.
I understand now why capitalism is seen as demonic and evil. The control of drip marketing contents and technology is so slow and pointless.
Our resources are depleting. War is happening still. Communism wouldn't help either. It's the same song with a different tune.
I'll keep living because that's what he wants from people. I want to make God proud. I want people's lives to be easier.
I want people to stop competing and performing and wanting to die drenched in lies.
Maybe that's why it's a sin to lie. It halts evolution not just on others but yourself too. Living a lie halts growth.
It's difficult but Faith seems to be the part that is supposed to ground you in it. Like--I don't know WHY I can't lie in this situation but I have to be honest.
Anyways in these moments I wonder if philosophy and religion is a coping skill or a turning something bad into something good.
I guess I should just keep doing what I need to do and not what others want me to do.
It seems whenever I do what others want I suffer more than before.
I usually value collaboration. But when others Stop valuing it--then it's time for something to be done.
These people are messed up. They have no emotional retention. They have no ability to remember the things they do--Like it doesn't exist to them.
The heat, my hormones shifting, the trauma of seeing her again, and other things seemed to trigger a huge meltdown? Fight or flight? PTSD attack?
No wonder the woman from my dream was so empty--her body and mind have been through war and emotional, psychological, and spiritual survival.
I can only pray that I'm not chemically like a porn addicted person--I don't want to lose the idea that sex to me is love. After everything I mean.
I don't have the time in life to heal. There's so much I have to do and everyone still sees me as a wallet drainer and leech.
I don't trust anyone to help me. I don't trust anyone to love me. I don't trust love because it's not enough to make these other things go away.
I understand why people are calling for a civil war on the rich. And their help? To not be seen as bad people? Their help is "we will make others more like us!"
Natural selection affects them too.
Which is funny. They think they've escaped it ofc. I do think that people are right. Celebrities and other rich people aren't useful anymore.
They don't have much use anymore.
Anyways.
I feel lonely. I feel trauma everywhere. Like I've always been hit by a bus.
It's ironic I think--the "I wouldn't do it without a trained professional" people are so dangerous.
I did better without them...always.
It's hard not to hate life.
I always have to compete for needs and wants and sacrafice them.
For siblings, friends, lovers, parents, students, strangers, buyers, consumers, voices...
I sacrafice for these people to have better all the time. I don't have the energy to do anything else. I don't have anything else to provide but what I can scrounge up and then hand off or step aside.
I just want someone.
Someone who knows and loves me and understands me in full.
I can't let these people take away my voice or my story or my dreams for myself when they're already so blessed.
Only those well off say "you should be grateful"
What you did to survive and achieve versus what I did will never be the same.
So I'll hopefully find a way. To let my future husband be able to comfort me and know me in full after this whole experience. I'll find a way for him to know every page in my story and leaf through and bookmark his favorites.
Who in the universe would take away that from their victims so easily? That they could just have one?
These people can be vampires.
I get tired--I fall asleep--they suck the energy out of me.
They leave all their bad thoughts behind.
The world needs a miracle.
Activities: Food Sleep Screens
Emotions: Hurt Overwhelmed Confused Lonely Stressed Empty Hopeless
Unhelpful Thought: I'll never be well. No one will ever understand me. No one does. I'm alone. I'm always alone and I'll always be alone. People will only ever take from me or use me. People want me to die. My parents want me to die. I end up believing them and wanting it too.
I'll never have a life. I'll never have my own life. I'll never be me. I'll never be free.
Cognitive Distortions: Fortune-telling Self-blaming
Challenge: I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry that you've been through so much trauma in such little time. I'm so sorry you have to fight to comfort yourself and your fight response has increased so astronomically.
It must be scary to have to use it. It must be scary to never know when the pain will stop or when they will cause your attacks to start.
I don't know much about PTSD but considering the flashbacks and how even in moments for you they violate every piece of you--it only makes sense that you have resorted to fighting. I'm sorry you're body has to respond so uncomfortably and abnormally.
But try to remember that these are all normal responses to the abnormal. Your body is scared and terrified and it's been 330 days of exhaustion. The fatigue makes sense. The survival instincts makes sense. Your body and brain are working so hard for you so you can keep loving one day when the trauma responses ebb away.
There's no cure that I know of for these ailments. PTSD, depression, SAD, anxieties, potential autism. All these comorbidities must be eating away at you. The fact that they keep triggering you doesn't help either.
I'm sorry they push you. I'm sorry you've been through rape. I'm sorry you can barely pick up the pieces before they hurt you again.
I'm sorry I have to be the one to apologize to you for everything that's happened and still happens. I'm sorry they abuse you as you try to write and don't listen to no or clear boundaries.
The only advice I can think to give so you may have peace in these moments is to stop saving them. Let the bad continue to do bad. Let the Rapists continue to be Rapists. Do not work to absolve them of anything or bring good from their lives.
They're learning how to hurt you in different ways instead. They're recruiting new people late to everything instead.
Teeny tiny Tina, I'm still working so hard for you to be loved. I'm working so hard for you to stay safe. For you and I to stop fighting.
For you and I to stop freezing and being abused and for them to push you your fight responses and fear of your own body.
I'm sorry they tell you it's demons. When it's her. I'm sorry she won't leave you alone. I'm sorry she and others won't have boundaries with you.
I'm sorry they use you to teach her what her Delusions look like in another person because she forgets to be a human in others bodies and can't let her ego go.
I'm sorry they drug you so she can be comforted.
I'm sorry they don't know what you are going through. When I write as if I'm not you I can't imagine this pain.
I hope one day you are safe and rescued. I hope one day you find someone who will save you from her and them and the ones who abuse you.
I know my hopes are meaningless and that under normal circumstances when you are only you--I can always write meaningful advice without resorting to vapid generics.
I hope that one day you can be enough for yourself again.
I hope they don't bleed you dry. Don't kill yourself no matter what they say and do and feed on altruistic notions.
It's a complete mind fuck. The support needs to come from you. When they do it--don't believe them.
May you find peace Tina.
Alternative Thought: You will be saved. You will find help. Normal people know that it's wrong. These stars are illusions.
Normal people can help better. Find a community that can give you a break and accept you. That won't let your mind fall apart.
Don't let their ironic wishes for you give you peace. Don't let it give THEM peace. They don't mean it they just want it to be them.
Do not be like them. Do not live a lie. Address your hatred front on. Address why you hate front on so you may be free from it.
Do not be like them. Keep the bible in mind but please be who you want to be--which is exactly how God created and therefore called you to be.
Your calling is to heal and fight hatred for now.
Your calling is to find safety. May the lord bear you on eagles wings.
You do not have religious psychosis. You need to keep remembering who the fuck you are.
You are too smart for your own good. You are too self sacrificing for your own good. You see the bad in the good for people to address and attack and heal. You are kind when not under duress. You have illness. You need diagnosis. You have had terrible things happen. Surreal and awful. You always find a way to make things right. You always grow and evolve and change. You are you and others will not visibly see it.
Keep your self grounding mindfulness. Mindfulness is not oppression. It's a tool for a single person. Yourself. Not others.
Keep steady. Take a walk. Do something new. Discover something. Don't just stay in your mind doing it all there.
You need stimulation. You may be close to the end of figuring what you need to figure out out.
Then look at these thoughts and see how little and small they are in comparison to who you are and how you faced them. You are always seeking to heal and retain your values. That dualism and unobstructed steadfastness is your namesake.
It's in your birthday, your name, your experiences, your ring, your prayers, your loves, your hates, your stories, and every part of you.
You can never not be you. Except when your free will is in the hands of another.
Keep fighting for peace. Write and draw and explore within your means. Your life may seem so small but the meaning you have, the blessings God gave you to remember, the irreplaceable meaning everywhere is a gift from him.
And with this you never stop creating. Up and down. Up and down. If David in all his emotional complexities is a "man after God's own heart" then allow yourself to fall and thank God for his discipline.
He corrects those he accepts. He shows the wisdom of it to those he loves.
Keep his ever present and obvious love for you in your heart.
And even though you think Jonah is so funny, please allow yourself to give "testimony" one day and ask people to repent and show them God's love. Be unashamed. Be devoted. Be passionate. Don't let others kill your fire.
You know what it's like. You know what thoughts come from these terrible scenarios. You know how badly you want saving.
Others do too.
Show people that God's love IS unconditional. And learn and translate and write.
Translate God's Holy Spirit and intentions and goals to others.
He will bless you. He is pursuing your heart.
Remember how small the flaws are in others in comparison to them. How little it means for them to dislike what you do or help the opposing neighbor.
You are admired. And sometimes admiration turns bad and becomes jealousy.
You are very lonely. And you have learned ways to find yourself in all the versions of loneliness there are.
You are used. You are abused.
And that story lives and cannot be erased no matter how hard they try. Eternity is the sock that fell from their push. It feels so inescapable.
Your healing and self growth is awkward.
But you can still live. And you love others enough to be awkward with them.
Let yourself remember that this means that you love yourself to be awkward with yourself and allow it.
In that way you have already broken one cycle. That people need to see you in good perfect ways in order to have even self love.
You are strong. You are so passionate. And still while moored and mired in guck and hatred you still do everything out of love.
For yourself and others.
Your own body even is reflecting that incredibly. Your brain doesn't WANT to give up. It wants to fight, to survive, to fawn, to freeze.
Your brain and body is fighting for your love. Your self love and your future love and your love for others.
It's natural to feel this exhaustion after it all.
Tell yourself a new fortune too. A new self attribution. Balance it out.
You're going to always have love. It's in all your cells and the things you touch.
When you drop what you like and feel pain--however small--that tiny regret is love.
Your love is worth it. Your drive to be well is always worth it.
We are adapting. Love yourself enough to be awkward with it. It will feel really big and like the world is ending because it's the first time you've felt these ways.
God bless you.

I've finally started reading pretty voraciously again this year, and I've been looking into getting an eReader for travel and as a space saver. I was in love with what I saw of the Kobo Libra 2, but the general consensus is that it's being discontinued for newe future models (though there's been some mixed information). I feel like I'm back to square one on my search so I would love some advice!
I'd prefer black and white from a pricing and battery usage standpoint, but I'm not totally opposed to color. I can't see myself taking notes, just occasionally highlighting but mostly reading. I plan to use it with Libby for the most part, with potentially utilizing an "unlimited" plan or buying the occasional book. I would prefer to have a backlight so I can read at night/in the evenings and for accessibility, I need page turn buttons. Kindles are not an option.
Thanks in advance, y'all!

I drank 6 20oz Mountain Dew bottles this morning and when I went to enter it into the mogstation it said that the code was not valid til Dawntrail prerelease… and then I went into a diabetic coma and fell and hit my head on my pc and it spilled my last bottle of dew in my case and when I came to my doctors said my room caught fire. I’m afraid I lost my code forever and they told me my pancreas is fucked so I can’t drink 6 more to get the birdge. Why does SE fuck everything up! I just wanted my Baja blast colored birdge but noooooo you had to make everyone wait! Now I gotta Yoshi Pee…

Hi. I am the creator of the cozy game Blob Life on Steam. It is a cute sidescroller RPG that is all about taking care of little aliens called blobs! Give them cool names, check their vitals, build colorful houses, play and feed them with a variety of sweets when you have all the time in the world.
Check out the Steam page here: Blob Life - Play Now on Steam!
https://imgur.com/a/sNaXZZ2

struct Testing: View { @ State private var colors: [Color] = [.red, .blue, .purple, .green, .pink, .yellow] var body: some View { TabView { ScrollView { LazyVStack(spacing: 0){ ForEach(colors, id: \.self) { color in ZStack { Color(color) .containerRelativeFrame([.horizontal, .vertical]) } .scrollTargetLayout() } } } .ignoresSafeArea(edges: .top) .scrollTargetBehavior(.paging) .tabItem { Image(systemName: "house") } } } } 

The company I work for in a sense does data analytics. Prior to going paperless, we would print off pages and pages of data and have to sort through it with a pen and highlighter. Think of printing off phone records or bank accounts and looking for specific things. Some phone numbers or account numbers get crossed off, some get circled, some get highlighted, and some have a note written beside them. Now that we are paperless and everything is done via PDF or a web-based program that efficiency is gone. (I do consider the old pen and paper to be more efficient)
No one that I am aware of uses a pen-mouse or anything of the sort within my company. So I’m looking into the capabilities of a pen-mouse or pen & tablet solution to pitch to senior management. And instead of asking what the pen-mouse can do, I thought I could explain what I’m looking for and if it’s possible or available and with what type of product. Many years ago I took a graphic design class and Wacom is the only brand I know of that uses a pen & tablet product. Which is why I’m here.
I feel like what I’m looking for is very basic. And mostly, I want the ability to write and highlight PDF documents and potentially do the same within a web-based program. I would need it to write, draw, highlight (not highlight to copy and paste, but use like an actual highlighter), select, scroll, left and right click. Be able to switch between a pen and highlighter by a hotkey. Hotkey also pulls up colors. If it can convert what I write into typed text that would be cool. Or a hotkey brings up a text box. (we are not writing sentences, but acronyms)
Really that is it. I do think it’s basic but I’m not sure of the compatibility with PDF’s or other environments. Some people do use the PDF tools with a mouse to draw and highlight, but it's rare.
Thanks up front to anyone that can provide advice or opinions.

The next morning, Himiko was awakened by a delighted scream. She shot up in her bed and saw Tenko dancing around the room.
"Nyeh...Tenko? W-What's going on?" Himiko asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
"La-la-la-la-la-laaaaaa!!" Tenko sang. Then, she stopped at Himiko's bed and gripped Himiko's shoulders like a crazy person. "Himiko! I ate your Snoozydoodles right before bed, like you told me to, and I just had the most amazing dream!!"
"What was it about?" Himiko asked.
"There were no degenerate males in the world! And all the girls made me their queen!" Tenko sighed. "It was perfect utopia! A utopia...for girls! The sky was pastel pink! The clouds were extra puffy and white! The ocean was also pink and glittery, and all the food we ate was pink, like strawberry cake, strawberry ice cream, strawberry cupcakes, and strawberry milk! And girls of every shape, size, and color were everywhere! Not a degenerate male in sight!"
"Nyeh...a dream filled with just girls sounds like a nightmare," Himiko muttered. "Most problems I had with bullying was from catty, popular girls."
"W-What?! There's no way that's true, Himiko!" Tenko cried. "Maybe they were males in disguise!"
"No, I don't think so," Himiko shook her head. "Plus, a world with just girls is going to lead to extinction."
"Not in my dream!" Tenko exclaimed happily. "Girls were born from 'Girl Flowers!'"
"Nyeeeh...girl flowers? " Himiko asked, raising a brow.
"Yeah! You plant a pink seed into the ground, and when it grows, the petals open up and reveal a beautiful baby girl inside!" Tenko gushed. "It was so amazing! Girls, girls, girls everywhere!" Himiko wrinkled her nose.
"I bet it smelled like fish in that world," she muttered.
"Fish?! Why would it smell like-...oh! Hahahaha!" Tenko said. "No, no, Himiko! We didn't have to deal with that because there was need for it! All the girls came from 'Girl Flowers,' remember?"
"Oh...I guess that's true," Himiko replied, shaking her head at the absurdity. Suddenly, there was a knock at their door. Tenko went over to open it. Standing on the other side were Tsumugi, Angie, Maki, Miu, Gonta, Ryoma, and Kaito.
"Hey! What are you all doing here?!" Tenko demanded. "Especially you degenerates!" Ignoring Tenko, they all rushed right in and crowded around Himiko's bed. Himiko nervously pulled her blanket up to her face.
"Nyeh...c-can I help you guys?" she whimpered.
"I had the most wonderful dream because of your cookies, Himiko!" Angie chirped. "Everyone in the whole wide world became a follower of Atua, and was welcomed into his kingdom!"
"I had a dream that I finally went to space!" Kaito exclaimed. "And I became the world's best astronaut for discovering a lot of alien civilizations! Everyone voted for me to be president of Earth!"
"There's no way such a title exists," Maki said, shaking her head.
"Well, maybe not in real life, but that's how it was in my dream!" Kaito said. "But, anyways, what was your dream about, Maki Roll?" Everyone turned to Maki, curious to what kind of dream she had. She blushed.
"I'd...rather not talk about it," she grumbled. "It's too dumb."
"Just tell us already, Judge Moody!" Miu spat impatiently. Maki glared at her, then sighed.
"Fine..." she said. "I had a dream where I wasn't an orphan, and I had real, actual parents who loved me. And I was happy and nice to everyone, and I didn't have to worry about being an assassin and stealing peoples' lives." Everyone stared in stunned silence at her. Maki sighed gloomily. "See? I told you it was dumb."
"Geez, that's not dumb at all," Ryoma said. "Sounds similar to my dream, though, I would agree if you had said that wishing for it to happen would be dumb."
"What do you mean, Ryoma?" asked Tsumugi.
"It's pointless to dream or wish for something that will never come true," Ryoma explained. "Even though my dream was...surprisingly delightful, it also felt like a punch in the gut. Hmph...I don't know whether to call that dream a blessing, or a curse."
"What was your dream about?" Kaito asked.
"Well, I'll tell you, but it is depressing," Ryoma warned. "My girlfriend hadn't been killed, and I was back home with her and my cat. And I didn't even play tennis, I wasn't even an Ultimate student. I was a regular guy."
"That doesn't sound depressing at all!" Kaito said.
"But, the fact that it'll never come true is what makes it depressing," Ryoma said. "That's why I say, dreams like that are pointless. It's better to forget about the past and move on with your life"
"Bullshit!" Kaito exclaimed. "C'mon, man, stop whining about how depressing your life is! You say that wishing for the impossible is dumb and it was all in the past, or whatever, so why the hell are you still depressed? If you truly believed that you should move on, you should stop worryin' about the past and look to the future with bright hopes! That goes for you, too, Maki!"
"What? Why me?" Maki asked.
"It's true that you can't change the past, and maybe wishing for it to change is dumb," Kaito explained. "But, if you're still depressed about what happened in the past, it means you can't let go of what happened! You're not moving on! Moving on is accepting what happened, and doing whatever you can to make your life better! Instead of wishing to undo the past, wish for a brighter future! That goes for all of you!" The room fell silent as they stared at Kaito.
"So, anyway, my dream was about me actually becoming the characters that I cosplay!" Tsumugi said, breaking the silence.
"Hey! Don't just ignore my inspirational speech!" Kaito exclaimed angrily.
"It really wasn't all that inspiring," Tsumugi said, haughtily waving him off.
"Seriously! Nobody asked for your opinion, Mahatma Ghandeez Nuts!" Miu said to Kaito.
"W-What?! " Kaito exclaimed.
"Ha! In my dream, I was the world's best inventor!" Miu said grandly. "With my inventions, I was able to rid the world of starvation, war, violence, famine, and all that other bad shit! And everyone loved me! All the guys on the planet wanted to bang me, and my boobs grew a size bigger!"
"Um...can you not share your dreams?" Tsumugi said. "I feel like every time you speak, I want to do unspeakably horrible things to you."
"Shut the hell up, you four-eyed, lamebrain otaku! " Miu spat. "You're just jealous because you have two deflated balloons for chest!"
"Um...can Gonta share dream, now?" Gonta asked.
"Yes, Gonta, go ahead," Tsumugi replied, eager to not have to listen to Miu anymore.
"Gonta was king of bugs!" Gonta replied. "Everyone in world loved bugs, and loved King Gonta!"
"Tuh...that dream sounds stupid as shit!" Miu scoffed.
"Oh! G-Gonta sorry..." Gonta apologized with a hurt expression.
"You don't have to apologize to her, Gonta," Tsumugi said, glaring at Miu.
"You want someone to apologize to, apologize to all of us for wastin' our time!" Miu spat to Gonta.
"Hey! Cut it out, Miu! Stop yellin' at him!" Kaito yelled.
"Don't tell me what to do, Luke Skyfucker!" Miu shouted back.
"Stop callin' me names!" Kaito yelled back.
"H-Hey! Why everyone fighting?" Gonta asked. "Gonta not mean to start fight!"
"Leave it up to a degenerate male to start a fight!" Tenko growled, glaring at Gonta.
"If you guys don't stop fighting, Atua will unleash his holy wrath upon you all," Angie warned with a creepy grin.
"Nobody asked you, you kooky cult bitch!" Miu said, swatting at Angie. "All y'all are just jealous because my dream was better that yours!"
"Excuse me?!" Tsumugi cried.
"Yeah! Obviously mine was the best one!" Kaito exclaimed.
"You're plainly wrong! Mine was the best one!" Tsumugi said.
"No, it was mine!" Tenko shouted.
"Nuh-uuuhhhh...it was mi-iiiine," Angie said cheerfully.
"Um...Gonta thinks Gonta's was pretty good," Gonta said diplomatically.
"Sheesh...I can't believe everyone is getting so worked up over this," Ryoma said.
"Seriously. It's stupid to be fighting over something like this," Maki agreed.
"Well, I don't think it's stupid at all!" Tsumugi said.
"Yeah! In fact, I want another dream!" Miu said. Everyone turned to Himiko, who had been staring at them in horrified silence. "You better whip us up some more cookies, ya little midget, or else!"
"Well, um...you'll have to wait next weekend," Himiko replied in a small voice.
"I ain't waitin' that long!" Miu spat. "So, chop, chop! Get to makin' those damn cookies right now!"
"Nyeh, but...what about school?" Himiko asked.
"Himiko's right, we need to get ready for school," Maki said. But...I think I'd also like more of the cookies." Everyone turned to her in surprise.
"Wait...really, Maki?" Tsumugi asked.
"It was...a really good-tasting cookie...that's all," Maki mumbled, fiddling with one of her pigtails.
"Or is it because you liked your dream?" Angie teased. Maki frowned at her.
"Shut up," she said.
"I...agree with Maki," Ryoma said. "I want to see if I would have a different dream. One that's more...sensible."
"A dream that's...sensible? " Tsumugi repeated.
"Yeah...one that keeps me away from my past," Ryoma explained. "Do you think you can do that for me, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said. She knew exactly how to do just that.
Part Twelve
"What was all that ruckus about earlier, Monkey Buns?" Kokichi asked as he and Himiko walked together to school.
"Nyeh...just as I was hoping, my Snoozydoodles gave everyone dreams," Himiko replied. "But, when everyone that I gave them to was talking about their dreams, things got a little out of hand."
"Was that the effect of the magic?" Kokichi asked.
"Well, no...that was because Miu was being her usual, annoying self, and then Tsumugi said something, then Miu snapped back at her, then everything sorta erupted into chaos," Himiko explained.
"Didn't you say a while ago that the dream powder can be addictive?" Kokichi asked. Himiko sighed.
"Yeah...even small doses of the dream powder might cause someone to be addicted," she said. "But, it works really well, and that's why I wanted to put it in my cookies."
"Hmm...I hope you know what you're doing, Himiko," Kokichi said.
"Well...I have another idea where the dream powder might be not as addictive...but the effects will be just as good?" Himiko said with a bit of uncertainty. Then, she blushed. "I...used this method to dream about you before we started dating." Kokichi raised his eyebrows at her.
"Really?!" he exclaimed, grinning.
"Yeah...I had to steal your hair while you were asleep to do it, though," Himiko said quietly.
"Yeah, that's not creepy at all," Kokichi teased, wrapping his arm around Himiko's waist, and giving her a kiss on the cheek. A mischievous grin crossed his lips. "I wanna know what this other method is."
***
Friday night had arrived. Kokichi was with Himiko in her secret magic room. She was flipping through the spellbook titled, "Inside the Magical Mind." Himiko showed Kokichi the chapter "Build the Perfect Dream," specifically, the romance section.
"Nyeh...these are potions I used to have dreams about you," she explained to him, and pointed to the different dreams. "This is the 'sweet love dream' potion, the 'spicy love dream' potion, and the 'hot and steamy love dream' potion." Kokichi read the description of each dream, his impish grin growing larger across his face as he read.
"So, you drank all of those potions?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"Well, one night, I drank the first one, then the next night, I drank the second," Himiko said. "I secretly gave the last one to Miu, because I was too scared to drink it myself."
"Ugh! You gave it to Miu?! " Kokichi exclaimed in disgust.

"Well...I-I'd feel dirty having the last dream!" Himiko stammered.
"Well, then, why'd you make that potion in the first place?" Kokichi asked.
"Because I was curious!" Himiko said. "But, then my curiosity was replaced by fear and feeling dirty, so I gave it to Miu. It's a good thing I did, too, because..."
"Cuz, why...?" Kokichi asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because she was doing very...dirty things with you," Himiko replied. "Yeah...we were having our monthly slumber party, and in the middle of it all, Miu was dreaming and...nyeh...screaming."
"AAAUUUUGGHHHH!!! GROSS!!" Kokichi exclaimed, covering his ears. "I don't wanna do it with her!! "
"Well, she did say that you said that to her in her dream," Himiko said. "But, you only did it to get her to shut up because she kept begging you."
"Ew, I don't care," Kokichi muttered. "There's no excuse to condone bestiality." Himiko sighed and gave Kokichi a playful swat. Kokichi laughed, then eyed her flirtatiously. "Besides, my body only belongs to you...Himiko." Himiko blushed and lowered her head. Every time he said her name like that, it got her heart pumping like crazy. "My body...is your body." Kokichi lifted her chin to turn her head to him. "Mi cuerpo...es su cuerpo, y mi corazón...es su corazón."
"Ohhhh...Kokichiiii...!" Himiko gurgled with delight, biting her lip. She didn't know Spanish, but he made it sound so good. Kokichi leaned in to give her a passionate kiss.
"Okay, that's enough!" he said, stopping the kiss abruptly.
"W-What?! Wait! No! Moooore...!" Himiko pouted, tugging on Kokichi's sleeve. "I want mooore."
"Nuh-uh, Monkey Buns. Tomorrow is another cookie sale, so we can't get distracted right now. We gotta make these cookies like Hiro...baked! " Kokichi said.
"O-kaaaayyy..." Himiko pouted.
"M'kay, so how are gonna do this, HimiCocoa Bean?" Kokichi asked.
"Well...what genre of potion should I make?" Himiko asked. "There's comedy, action-adventure, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, aaannnd...lots of other stuff."
"Comedy!" Kokichi said. "Everyone needs a good laugh!"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said, then turned to the comedy section of the chapter.
"So, you'll just pour whatever potion you make into the cookie batter, right? And mix it up?" Kokichi asked.
"Yup, that's right," Himiko nodded.
"Aaaalrighty, then! Welp, do your thang, babe!" Kokichi said, kissing Himiko's cheek. Himiko giggled and read the comedy section:
~COMEDY:~
Laughter is the best medicine, as they say! So, why not have it in your dreams? After all, there's nothing cuter than someone laughing in their sleep! Whether you're in the mood for some gut-busting, slap-happy humor, wild, crazy humor, or even just simple, laughable jokes, every hilarious dream is welcome in clown town!
Slapstick comedy dream: A dream where tripping, punching, bashing, slapping, falling, and everything in between is considered more funny than horrifying! If you fancy a dream like that, give Slapstick comedy dream a whirl!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of pepper for an extra kick, 1 tsp of cinnamon for an extra bite, 1 tsp of dragon spice for an extra punch, 3 petals of the Laffodil flower, and a 3/4 cup of sunlight for some lighthearted fun. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Fun-loving comedy dream: You can't always watch comedy, you have to experience it, too! If you feel like going on a funny, fun-filled adventure full of laughter, then the fun-loving comedy dream is just what you're looking for!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 3/4 cup of elven sparkles for whimsy, 1 cup of pink polka dot pond water, 1 tsp of sugar, 5 petals of the Laffodil flower, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Joker dream: Want a dream with less gut busting, and more on the relaxed side? Then, a Joker dream is prefect the perfect comfort comedy dream for you!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of funny honey, 1 petal of the Laffodil flower, a pinch of jesterly ginseng powder, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
"Nyeh...which one should I pick?" Himiko asked. Kokichi scanned the page.
"Hmm...why not all of them?" he suggested. "You can make three batches of cookies, and pour the different potions into each one! Actually, it's way more interesting that way, since people will get to randomly choose their comedy dream cookies!"
"I guess you're right," Himiko said. She got to work, whipping up all three potions. "Nyeh...all done!"
"Do you wanna go to D.I.C.E. headquarters and bake them there again?" Kokichi asked.
"Yeah, but...let's take the short way," Himiko said. "I'm already tired from making these potions." Before Kokichi could ask what she meant, Himiko snapped her fingers, and they magically appeared at the abandoned insane asylum serving as D.I.C.E. headquarters.

One day, in the folds of time, a person was born in the city of Marrakesh. They all had many brothers, and they were poor and their condition was miserable and extremely poor. This person, whose name was Ibrahim, worked the entire summer to buy school supplies for the next year, and if his shoes were torn, Or he sewed his clothes, but he had no shoes, so his clothes were worn out and old. Ibrahim’s father was in the service, so he was absent from the house, not being with his family much. Days passed and Ibrahim grew up, so his father gave him two choices: either to go to the Education Academy to study and graduate as a professor, or to enter the service. The military, and this choice was not recommended by the father, Ibrahim, because he did not want his son to go through a difficult experience like him, but Ibrahim had an opinion and was very stubborn, so he chose military service, so he went, and after a few years he graduated with the rank of colonel, and at that time his mother proposed to him, a girl from the neighborhood in which he They lived in it, and at that time he married a son, and after that she became pregnant and they had a son, a male, and they named him Muhammad, and from here our story will begin. Muhammad was an ordinary child, and he studied well and excelled in his studies. He always went to the mosque in order to memorize the Qur’an, and he was not an honest, trustworthy child with good morals. He respected people and never insulted anyone. He was a pure and pure child. As the years passed, Muhammad grew up and took the baccalaureate degree. And all these years, Muhammad was influenced by the Islamic conquests and the personality of the Prophet Muhammad, may God bless him and grant him peace, and the Companions, may God be pleased with them, especially Omar ibn Al-Khattab and Ali bin Abi Talib, so he devoted himself to reading the biography of the Prophet and watching videos whose topics were Islam. The important thing is that we go back and said that Muhammad reached the age of 18 and did not find in Morocco job opportunities or even a good position, so he decided to immigrate to America like other young people, so he was registered in the American lottery and after a few months had passed. Acceptance came to him, and he was very happy because he would find a decent living and a decent life. But in reality, there is something else. The important thing is that Muhammad collected all the documents he would need and applied for the visa. Before and after that, he collected his beliefs and booked the plane ticket. On the night of the flight, he was so excited that he did not sleep a lot, and in the morning. He went to the airport, his parents said goodbye to him, and he went to the plane, and after hours he found himself in America, and the reality was something else. There were many racists, and they always insulted him with the name Muhammad because he idolized the Prophet Muhammad, may God bless him and grant him peace, and they even called the Messenger lustful, and he married Aisha for 6 years. And God forbid, as they curse the honorable companions, may God be pleased with them. The important thing is that Muhammad completed his studies in America and obtained several certificates, so he submitted his application to enter the police because he had just obtained American citizenship. The important thing is that he submitted his application and they approved it, so he took the written and physical test and passed it, so he passed them, and now Muhammad has become An official policeman for the state of Chicago, Muhammad was sincere in his work and dedicated to it. He always did not accept bribery and punished criminals severely. Years passed and Muhammad rose in his position and became in the anti-gang department. He became the one carrying out executions and began killing and exterminating everyone. Killer gangs because the state gives him the decision to kill them because they incite fear in people, kill them, and rape their daughters. Muhammad killed, or rather executed, thousands of people, and he exterminated hundreds of gangs from existence, and all the criminals feared him and were afraid to even mention his important name. Hours passed, and one day of the daysOne day, Muhammad found a volume containing the story of the revolution and the Soviet Union. He read it all and was influenced by revolutionary thought. He began to imagine himself as the king of the world, and he was one of the most supportive of the Palestinian cause. They always sent thousands of dollars to Palestinian associations, and Muhammad was stable even though he was stable. In America, but he hates its corrupt regime and the racism towards foreigners that is abundant in it, so Muhammad decided to go to Russia in order to settle there and submitted his application to Russian intelligence and gave up his service in America, but he still possessed American citizenship. The important thing is that Muhammad worked in Russian intelligence and began every day. It is getting more and more popular and everyone loves it until one day there was a parade for President Vladimir Putin And then Muhammad met President Putin, and Putin liked Muhammad’s personality and the way he treated and respected him, so he decided to hire him as his bodyguard, and Muhammad was very happy with this news. The next day, he started working with the president, and he accompanied him wherever he went. The president was subjected to a series of assassination attempts, and Muhammad was always He was his savior. Meanwhile, Muhammad became a loyal friend of Putin and became Vice President. One day, Putin became seriously ill, and when he was on his deathbed, he said goodbye to Muhammad. Muhammad was very affected by his death, but he moved forward and now he has become the President of the Republic of Russia, so it began. His ambitions to reshape the Soviet Union, so he began to forcefully occupy the countries that were on his side. He did not kill innocent people or women. He implemented the commandments of the Prophet Muhammad, may God bless him and grant him peace, to the letter. At this time, America began to threaten Muhammad that it would occupy Russia and destroy it. Muhammad was aware of this matter and was He planned in advance, as he intended to obey America and eliminate it, and the opportunity came to him. He restored the Soviet Union a hundred times stronger and stronger than it was during the era of Stalin and the other leaders. He only developed the nuclear arsenal and developed advanced weapons, and at this time Muhammad brought his father because He had experience in the army and gave him the position of first commander of the army staff, so his father trained the armyHis father was very strict, and he trained the soldiers very hard, and this would benefit them later. Muhammad also gave his grandfather the position of the chief president of all the central banks in the Soviet Union. He was the state’s accountant. All of the revenues of the Soviet Union passed through Muhammad’s grandfather. He also gave his great uncle the position of governor. He was in charge of all the car factories in the country, so he was in charge of all the car factories and all the companies. He was the president of them and the first factory because he had experience. He also entrusted him with the tasks of building power plants and manufacturing high-precision surveillance cameras. Muhammad gave his middle uncle the position of president of the iron and aluminum mining companies. All types of metal. He also gave his younger uncle the head of the taxi unions, as he is responsible for companies and all taxis and driving licenses for taxis, as well as their taxes. Muhammad also gave his younger uncle the position of head of the Ministry of Education and responsible for all schools in the country, as well as the head of the professors’ body. As he is responsible for the education and study sector, Muhammad also gave his great uncle the position of head of the body of lawyers, judges and courts in the state because his great uncle had more than 20 years of experience in the field. Muhammad also gave his other grandfather the position of head of arms manufacturing and export companies because his grandfather also had In military service, he had a lot of experience in questions, because this is all his specialty in politics Thanks to these positions that he gave to some members of his family, each of whom had great experience in the field in which he specialized, which helped the Soviet Union develop greatly and become stronger and stronger. At that time, Muhammad consulted his Soviet advisors and his father in his capacity as Supreme Commander. And the highest ranks of the army, intelligence, and security in the country. Ibrahim, Muhammad’s father, was the second most important authority in the country after his son Muhammad. The important thing is that after the long Shura period, Muhammad took the appropriate decision, so he bombed Washington, D.C., with a large nuclear bomb, which led to the erasure of Washington from the map and the destruction of the White House, so America rose. He responded with a nuclear missile, but Ibrahim, Muhammad's father, was able to dismantle it, repel it, and turn it towards America. From here, a fierce battle began between the Soviet Union and the United States of America. In the end, the Soviet Union was able to overthrow and eliminate America. It also occupied Canada and South America and brought it back. Alaska to Soviet ruleThe Soviet Union seized all the wealth of North and South America, and even Canada, and annexed them to the Soviet Union. Muhammad rebuilt America on the Soviet system, and even Canada and Brazil. The power of the Soviet Union increased 1,000 times, and the Soviet Union became the most powerful country in the world. Muhammad’s ambitions increased, so he occupied North Korea. He eliminated President Kim Jong-un and also occupied South Korea, Japan, and China. The thing that distinguished Muhammad was not killing innocent people. He only killed those participating in the war, and when he occupied the country, he rebuilt it and employed its citizens with a better salary than they had been, so everyone saluted him. There were also those who hated him, but they were very few. The important thing is that the Soviet Union became from the Republic of Russia to the most powerful country in history. Muhammad also liberated Palestine and gathered all the lions of the world and burned them, slaughtered them, and exterminated them from the globe. Only Muhammad eliminated all the Jews and it was Palestine. It was filled with ululations and joy at her liberation, and all the people were chanting the name Muhammad Muhammad and calling him Muhammad the Savior. Meanwhile, the grandfather of the first and second Muhammad died of old age, so Muhammad became very sad for them. At the funeral, someone poisoned Muhammad’s food with the most severe type of poison, and when he ate it, he choked and died. He almost died, but when he came out of the coma, the doctor told him while he was crying, “The poison has spread through your body, my lord Muhammad. You have only a few days left of your life.” Muhammad began to cry, but he was patient. Then Muhammad made his farewell conference in which he gave a speech and advised the people. When he dies, the rule will pass to his father, and when his father dies, it will pass to his great uncle, and this sequence will remainAfter a few days, Muhammad died and was buried in a grave of gold and diamonds. He became the most important figure in the world, so people began to visit him from all parts of the Soviet Union and even from the Arab countries. Millions of people visited him daily. As for him, when he died, power passed to him and he ruled with justice. Here the story of Muhammad has ended and has been folded between the pages of the past I forgot to mention that Muhammad was fighting with the soldiers, but he was covering his face with a mask so that the opponents would not recognize him and focus on him to kill him. If the president was killed, the Soviet Union would collapse. Muhammad was fighting with the soldiers and killing a lot of the enemy. He and his father were fighting, even though his father He was old, but he was stronger than Muhammad himself. Muhammad’s father was fighting 10 soldiers at the same time and killing them. Muhammad also occupied France, demolished the Eiffel Tower, and occupied almost all of Europe. Muhammad donated billions of dollars to Palestine until Palestine became very advanced and became a more ornate city. Muhammad also occupied Iran and exterminated the extremist Shiites. The one who poisoned Muhammad was a black man from Ethiopia, and the soldiers shot him dead when Muhammad died.Also, Muhammad could also have eliminated Morocco and wiped it from the map, but Muhammad did not want to do that out of respect for the Almoravids, Almohads, and Idrisids. When Muhammad died, power passed to his father and he began to rule the world. Muhammad’s tomb, built of pure gold and all precious stones, became a place of pilgrimage for millions of people every day, to the point that airports were filled with people and thousands of people were lining up in queues to obtain a visa. There were also thousands of people in the street chanting the name of Muhammad the Leader. The great and even they are queuing up to go to the Soviet capital, as there are people from far away places in the world such as Australia who go to the Soviet capital to visit the grave of Muhammad, and he was the most important and holiest person in the world after the Prophet Muhammad. And his companions, I am talking about his military clothes and weapons, all of them were sold for millions of dollars to Arab museums. As for the Soviet museums, they contain Muhammad’s necklace and his favorite weapon, and even the Soviet museum is crowded with people every day just to see its antiquities. Mohammed. Everyone loved him, so Muhammad became the second legend that history will not repeat. The first legend is the Prophet MuhammadWhen Muhammad died, they wrapped him in very advanced materials to prevent his body from decomposing. Muhammad's body did not decompose, but remained as it was. One of the materials used to preserve Muhammad's body was formalin, so Muhammad's body remained intact throughout the years.There are also some very wealthy Arabs who wanted to move Muhammad’s grave from the Soviet Union to Mecca in order to increase the state’s economy, but the entire world, billions of people, categorically refused, whether from within the Soviet Union or from outside it, and they wanted to buy his body for billions of dollars, but the entire world categorically refused. A wave of anger has erupted against Saudi Arabia because of this, because a person like Muhammad cannot be violated and his grave opened When Muhammad's father, Ibrahim, assumed power, and due to his old age, he was 61 years old. He found many difficulties because he found himself facing a great challenge in front of him, ruling millions of people. The Soviet Union, during Muhammad's era, was at the height of its power. He had sat on the throne of the most powerful country in history. Only the area of the Soviet Union was estimated at 400 million kilometers, so Ibrahim had to make a lot of effort, and in some of the Union’s colonies, some civil wars broke out between supporters of Muhammad and his supporters and among those who hated him, as most of those who hated Muhammad were from Central Europe, from the Greek islands and elsewhere. Next to it was the leader of the movement named Johann Gospiel. The latter sought revenge on Muhammad’s followers, and they all wanted to kill Ibrahim and destroy the Soviet Union. He was very hateful, and events will show you why the latter was so hateful of Muhammad and the main family. We will go back in time a little to when Muhammad committed mischief. America and occupied North and South Korea. His ambitions began in Europe, and he started with Italy, so he overthrew it, even though he respected Mussolini, the Italian fascist leader, but Muhammad’s ambitions were to occupy all of Europe, so he occupied Italy, eliminated its leader, and demolished all the ancient Roman idols and gods, and when he headed to occupy the Vatican. Muhammad remembered the words of the Prophet Muhammad, may God bless him and grant him peace, at the sign of the Hour, that in the Vatican there is the staff of Moses and the Thapoth of the Covenant, according to what the commentators and hadith scholars say, so Muhammad retreated.With his army, he went to occupy Greece and wanted to destroy Athens. He met the other army, headed by Johann Gaspiel's brother, called Nicholas Gaspiel. The two armies faced each other. Nicholas' army consisted of 45,000 tanks, a fleet of planes, and 980,000 soldiers, while Muhammad had 60,000 tanks. 2 million soldiers, and the two armies faced each other at the famous Evros River in Greece. The war began, and it was so bloody that the Evros River was filled to the brim with corpses and its color became red with blood. Muhammad was killing the enemies, and his father Ibrahim was also fighting, as he was 51 years old and he was very strong. Stronger than Muhammad himself. The important thing was that Muhammad was fighting. He tore off his mask. Nicholas the commander saw him and said: Here you are, Muhammad. I swear to Zeus, Poseidon, and Athena that you will not survive today. Medusa's curse will fall on you. Today I will hang your head before the gods. Muhammad did not answer him verbally, so his response was to arrest him, cut off his head, and hang his body on a treeThey continued fighting for several hours, and Muhammad was able to eliminate the entire army and occupied Greece at five in the morning. He prayed dawn in the city and began his entry with the soldiers. 200,000 soldiers had died in the war. Muhammad made a broadcast on television and consoled all the families and gave them a salary. For life and huge sums of money. The important thing is that Muhammad passed by the fields and saw some peasants. When they saw him, one of them called out and said, “Where is Muhammad?” Muhammad said to him, “Here is Muhammad.” The man came to him and hugged him and said, “O Muhammad, we have been saved from a tyrant who was torturing us and making our lives miserable.” Nicholas Gaspiel) and gave Muhammad some apples and lemons, so Muhammad bought 300 cows from him and the soldiers slaughtered them, so they ate until their stomachs were full and they slept that night while Muhammad was standing praying. This is just going back in time to explain to you why Johann Gaspial hates Muhammad.Johann Gaspel was telling his experience when he saw Muhammad and saying when Muhammad conquered all of Greece, and the people were chanting his name. I said that Muhammad was not killing ordinary citizens and women because he was carrying out the orders of the Prophet Muhammad and his law of war. Johan Gaspel was 12 years old. He said: “I saw large crowds chanting the name of Muhammad, then I was looking out the window, and suddenly I saw Muhammad passing in front of me and hundreds of thousands of people.” Behind him were hundreds of thousands of soldiers armed with the most modern weapons in the world. He said that Muhammad was strong, broad-chested, not more than 180 centimeters tall, and had a black beard, black hair, and brown eyes. Dark brown, and when Johann saw him, he felt an unusual tremor and said that Muhammad was a person that everyone feared
This is a fictional story written by me. Give me your opinion in the comments

Referenced page 91 as that's the only one I can find constipation in. I may regret this. Please, for the love of God, don't come here telling me to see a homeopathic doctor or that the medical establishment doesn't know anything, etc. I genuinely cannot tolerate somebody fear mongering to me, I'm really hoping I get a mod or someone with some medical/educational background in parasites to give me some pointers/next steps on my situation.
Back in 2022, I was diagnosed with a possible case of eosinophilic esophagitis/GERD. I was on a pureed diet for about a year since I had significant dysphagia and lost 20 pounds. I've been underweight ever since.
When I transitioned to eating solid food again, my poop looked very weird. White specks floating in the toilet water above the actual poop. White and yellow specks, as well as stringy things in my actual poop. One time, what looked like a literal worm in the toilet bowl. My GI last spring ordered a parasite & ova stool test. While I was waiting for the results, I had to go to urgent care for another matter. Well, it turned out the urgent care doctor was an infectious disease doctor, I showed her the picture, and she thought it looked like a roundworm.
Well, that parasite & ova stool test came back negative. I did a pinworm paddle test as well. It came back negative. My poop continued to look weird. Saw my GI last summer, and he just told me not to pay too much attention to my poop.
Then last fall, I went to my primary and told them maybe I'm dealing with a pinworm infection. Can my partner and I please take albendazole to see if it helps. We did one dose, and then after two weeks, another dose.
Now I'm dealing with near constant constipation, so I can't properly see if my poop is normal. I'm also dealing with nausea, bloating, a lack of appetite, iron deficiency anemia, B12 deficiency, and Vitamin D deficiency as well. I have had anemia since I was a teenager, the B12 deficiency started in 2022. The Vitamin D deficiency has been on & off during my life. Due to these symptoms, I am not able to gain much needed weight. I did a SIBO test in January that came back negative. Asked my GI what the next steps were about my symptoms, and he just told me to take Miralax.
This week, I saw a weird white floating thing in the toilet water when I had a bowel movement. Then, when I wiped today after having a bowel movement, there was what looked like a worm (maybe?) on the toilet paper that was yellow/tan in color.
My question is, really, what do I do? Does it sound like I could have parasites? If so, how do I go about addressing this? Once again, looking for guidance, NOT fear mongering.

Hi everyone, wanted to share here some news on an upcoming group buy for Play Tray V2! The first offering was fairly well-received, so I decided nearly two years later another run would be viable - but I've made some changes and improvements to the design as well.
For starters, PLAY TRAY V2 is a solid aluminum trinket / screw tray for your desk, inspired by the infamous ball-on-a-track cat toy. A channel precisely machined for an included 14mm steel bearing is the answer for your desk fidgeting needs - push it in circles, bounce it around your fingers, tilt the tray to revolve the bearing, and whatever else you can figure out. The center serves as a storage compartment for various small bits and bobs, with the lid being removable as a two-in-one magnetic screw tray combination.

What's new with V2

• Design updates to be more coherent and refined: The original Play Tray had some design elements that didn't sit quite right with me; namely the sharp lines around the perimeter ("HG" chamfer) and angular profile. I've updated Play Tray V2 with softer / larger fillets, and an overall more approachable profile.
• Two-in-one compartment tray: V2 features a lid over the center compartment that friction-fits into place, hiding any stowaway screws and parts. In addition, the lid doubles as a separate magnetized mini-me tray, perfect for building keyboards with multiple screw types.
• Stackable, quality-of-life changes: In addition to the other adjustments, V2 has some QOL improvements throughout. If you have multiple trays, they now stack securely on top of each other with aligned grooves in the base. Die-cut feet from V1 have been upgraded to injection-molded filleted rubber feet. More carefully-vetted manufacturing lends itself to cleaner and more consistent machining / finishing.

Sale information

For full information, renders, and color options, feel free to check out the product page.
There are 6 color options, 3 of them allowing for an optional engraved interior featuring a newly-illustrated sleepy cat.

• Simple Silver
• Timeless Taupe
• Coast Blue
• Boring Black (Plain / Engraved)
• Laidback Lilac (Plain / Engraved)
• Soft Pink (Plain / Engraved)

US group buy pricing is $48 USD, roughly 15% below expected in-stock MSRP. The group buy will be open from May 18th to June 1st, for about two weeks (or until capacity is reached). Generous estimate for fulfillment is Q1 2025.

Also available at the following...

• JJWKB (USA)
• Deskhero (Canada)
• ILUMKB (Singapore, Asia)
• Swagkeys (Korea, Asia)
• KEYGEM (Europe)
• Prototypist (UK)
• Switchkeys (Australia / Oceania)

Thank you! For more information please check the product page. Any questions feel free to ask, or consider joining our Discord server.

Hello,
First time Reddit poster. Started watching in 1998 and wound down in 2011.
I read/hear a lot about how Shawn Michaels/HHH pulled a last minute swerve for Shawn to win the European Championship over The British Bulldog at the 1997 One Night Only PPV. The detractors say that although Shawn's excuse was that he was doing it for "heat" and to make the title mean something, he didn't really do much with it and treated it as an afterthought joke. The D-X vs Hart Foundation feud happened a little bit before I started tuning in, but over the last 10-15 years, especially with more "shoot" interviews available, books/articles published, etc. it's possible the narrative of what happened at One Night Only is a mischaracterization of Shawn Michaels.
What We Know: In 1997, The British Bulldog aka Davey Boy Smith -- a member of the heel stable, The Hart Foundation -- is the European Champion and is always expected to "go over" whenever the WWE travels to Europe. 9/20/97 is the One Night Only PPV, in Birmingham, England.
What has been said by a few sources: Up till the day of the show, Davey was under the assumption that he was not going to lose the title to Shawn Michaels, since England is obviously within Europe. What made this event extra special is that there had been a plan for him to be escorted to the ring by his sister who was sadly stricken with a terminal illness. There would've then been cheers all around for this valiant hero and the 11,000 fans would then be sent home happy with a feel-good story.
Here is where things get murky: The same sources state that Shawn and HHH decided to pull a fast one on Vince McMahon an hour or so before it was show time. The two demanded that Shawn beat Davey for the European Championship. Has Shawn or HHH ever independantly admitted that it was in that short of a turnaround and that the two went behind Davey's back? Even Jim Ross says that Davey was with Shawn and HHH when the idea to change the finish was pitched and blames Davey for not "protecting himself." That means Davey agreed and was not forced. As mentioned earlier, the excuse that has been used is that Shawn felt that it would be a great way to draw "heat" since there was very much a pro-Davey crowd watching and so the return match in the Spring of 1998 (when they headed back to not just the UK, but this time in Manchester which was The Bulldog's billed hometown) would have a massive redemption arc which would be that much greater for the fans. In the meantime, Shawn would have good matches and elevate the European Championship, something, quite frankly, he was better at than Davey. It ties into the reasoning that has been given in that Shawn (arguably being at the peak of his ability), would be able to make that title mean something (like what he did for the Intercontinental Championship).
However, because of the backstage Kliq stories which continue to come out, the manner in which Shawn later dropped the European Championship, and the fact that there really was no return match for Shawn vs. Davey since both were out of the WWE by then, many fans have pointed to this PPV as an "obvious" example of the weight Shawn and HHH carried backstage. In recent shoot interviews, Bret Hart (who would leave the WWF six weeks later in spectacular fashion) has said this match was simply a way to make Davey and the rest of the Harts look foolish.
What you can't deny is the heat in the arena, after the match, was white-hot.
Okay with that background established, let's look to see why I feel that what happened at the One Night Only PPV is a mischaracterization of Shawn Michaels:

• The Hart narrative.
  • It's hard to put a lot of stock into "he said, she said," but in case you want to take it as gospel...in Page 256 of Shawn's book (yeah, yeah, I know) Heartbreak & Triumph, he details that Davey was on board with the plans -- with no mentions of if it was pitched an hour before or days earlier. If fans are ready to believe Bret, why can't they leave wiggle room for Shawn?
    • While Shawn certainly has excuses (and apologized) for his sophomoric hijinx and makes himself sound like a creative genius, Bret has consistently come off as two things: 1) Making himself look heroic 2) Making himself look like he's had a perpetual gloomy cloud over him at every stage of life. His book, My Real Life in the Cartoon World of Wrestling, briefly mentions this match and some nonsense of how he "saw the light die in Davey's eyes that day, darkness seeping into a heart that was giving out." Statements like that (and ones he continues to say) are dangerous, essentially telling fans that Shawn is partly responsible for the death of Davey Boy, stemming from this match. Huge mischaracterization.
  • Bret points to how Davey told everyone he expected to win, promised everyone that he was going to win the match for his English fans and especially his sister...as proof that Shawn swerved plans at the last minute just to needle the Harts ("It was designed to make us all look stupid." -- Inside The Ropes ).
    • What? There's literally thousands of instances where wrestlers lose in their hometown and use real life to push stories. And finishes change all the time. The new storyline made long term sense and Vince/Creative agreed. It could have been great, but no one expected Bulldog to quit six weeks later because of the Screwjob. No one expected Shawn's back injury to happen a couple months after that.
  • Diana Hart Smith (Davey's wife and Bret/Owen's sister) in 2012 said, regarding the changed finish, you "have to do what you're told." However, she is not credible, by Bret's own words, stemming from his reaction to a largely fictional biography on the Hart Family, written by Diana (Under the Mat).
• Davey was still booked to look strong, despite losing.
  • The RAW before the event, Davey had his knee "injured" from chair shots by HBK/HHH. And yet Davey still didn't "quit" when locked into the Figure Four at the PPV (even with HBK getting help from all the members of D-X). The match was stopped, akin to Stone Cold vs Bret Hart at WrestleMania 13. Diana Hart Smith even got involved in the post match antics with Chyna.
  • I don't believe, for a moment, the Hart family -- especially Bret -- didn't fully agree to how it all precisely happened especially when you're getting non-wrestlers involved inside the ring. If they wanted to change it, they could've.
    • There's been no mention from Bret about going to bat for Davey and them getting rejected.
• Bret Hart and the Hart Foundation still had a lot of backstage influence.
  • This wasn't Savio Vega or Dean Douglas eating an unnecessary pin. There is an established history of the Harts wanting to do things their way. Bret was World Champion and by far the highest paid wrestler on the roster so although Shawn had stroke, Bret certainly did too. And Davey had been with the company and had success far longer than Shawn (though in interrupted stages). DQ/Countout results are a common occurrence for situations where two powerful wrestlers/factions don't want to "job" to one another. In fact, the 10/6/97 RAW had Bret changing a finish where he was supposed to eat a pin from HHH (via HBK interference) into a Countout.
  • Yes, certainly, maturity was something Shawn and HHH lacked but you have to remember that unlike the Harts, they were not nepo-babies raised in the industry. And they were much younger (Shawn is 8 years younger than Bret whereas HHH is 12 years younger). Even Davey could be considered a nepo-baby since Dynamite Kid was his first cousin and he debuted in the WWF largely because Stu Hart cut a deal to include his son-in-law.
• Bret's possible thought process
  • My opinion (yes, speculation) is that Bret knew he was out the door and so he didn't care too much about what happened to Davey's European Championship since he had his own issues he was dealing with, regarding WCW contracts, Wrestling with Shadows, and dropping the World Championship. He mentioned how stressful all that was. What is fact though is that Davey wasn't someone Bret held in high regard. From talking about him not being able to construct matches, to being under the influence, to personal life issues, to even forcing Davey to cut his long braided hair because according to Davey's family, Bret said it was starting to look too much like his (even though it wasn't the same type nor color).
  • I also feel that with everything that happened between that period, and to Brian Pillman, Owen, and Davey dying very young, it understandably left an awful taste in their mouths. It all gets magnified a bit. Then add that Bret's time with WCW wasn't really anything extraordinary (for his standard), and his constant reminding us of how Goldberg ended his career makes me believe that there still is a grudge with HBK/HHH which will never truly go away. And unlike Shawn who seemingly has moved on, Bret hasn't. Which is why he keeps establishing the narrative that the Hart Foundation was always in the right and the D-X was always in the wrong.
• Finances
  • 1997, the WWF was in peril. House shows and merchandise were selling, but PPVs were not. Having a swerve on a PPV makes the next one "must see TV" (again, this was a world before streaming). In this instance, the next time they came to England. Nitro was still beating RAW.
• Storyline
  • Shawn had only recently turned heel (after SummerSlam, a month earlier). The plan was established from back then to have a heel Shawn face Austin at WrestleMania XIV. This was an era where there really was only one major show per week (and some on tape delay) and most fans did not have internet access at home, so establishing quick, obvious heat was important. What better way than to "screw" Davey in front of his fans and family? Beating Davey in the USA wasn't going to do it because, remember, Davey was a heel in the USA. 9/29/97 (two days later) Davey faced Vader in New York. Vader was about to beat him clean and then the Harts stormed in and used weapons on Vader, resulting in a DQ.
    • If not beat Davey, a former Intercontinental Champion, then who? The talent roster was quite thin and a memorable Undertaker program was upcoming. Also, Shawn had not had a singles belt since Feb 1997. Nevertheless, the ratings jumped towards the end of 1997.
• Defending the European Championship
  • How many of you remember Davey ever defending the European Championship on RAW or a PPV? From the moment he won it on 2/26/97, over the next seven months, he defended it only four times on non-house shows. Even if you include house shows, the vast majority of the defenses were in the USA so it was hardly a Europe-only belt. All the four RAW or PPV matches ended in DQ/Countout type finishes. I'll be honest, I haven't watched every single one of those matches but I do see that he beat HHH via pinfall, as one of his first defenses on 2/28/97. Davey regained the belt on 10/26/99 after he came back, but lost it six weeks later on 12/12/99 as he started spiraling, defending it only a handful of times on TV.
  • Shawn, unlike Davey, really could make that belt mean something so I do believe the Manchester return match in the Spring of 1998, after he dropped the World title to Austin, would've been big (not unlike Hart vs Bulldog at SummerSlam 1992). Even his most ardent haters will admit to HBK's talent. Yes, he dropped it to HHH in a comedic fashion on 12/11/97 but what was the alternative? With Bret leaving/gone and Shawn in a program with The Undertaker (who didn't need the European Championship since he was about to face Kane), as a World Champion (earlier than he thought he was going to be -- Screwjob plans were hatched later than Sept) him randomly losing the European title would've made him look bad even if it was lost in an underhanded fashion. Losing it to Owen could've been a possibility but Owen would win the Intercontinental Championship on 10/5/97 so that wouldn't really make sense neither. That said, the two of them faced one another on 10/20/97 in a title for title clash (No Contest). Owen later beat HHH for the European title on 2/26/98 (and then lost it back) and the two later had a WrestleMania XIV match for it. So dropping it to HHH made sense. Look at the roster back then and tell me who an alternative could have been?
  • Shawn gets a lot of heat for not defending the European title as often as some feel he should have. But as of 9/20/97, the WWE didn't know what Bret was going to do. Shawn infamously won the World Championship on 11/9/97. I'm not going to rehash the backstage Montreal play-by-play but I firmly believe that if Bret stayed with the WWE for a bit longer, Shawn would have had more time to have matches for the European title. The problem is everything happened so quickly. Unlike Davey, it's not like Shawn spent seven months as European Champion and defended it only four times on TV. Shawn did defend it three times on TV but in 2 1/2 months including an epic with Shamrock on RAW on 11/3/97, before he won the World title from Bret. Between a program with The Undertaker, leading D-X, and becoming World Champion sooner than he expected, there was no time (or really justification) to defend the European title even more often, when he had a program with Austin coming (in arguably the biggest title change in history).

TL:DR Even if (big, if) the finish was changed an hour before showtime, Davey agreed to the finish (with what I believe is with the Hart family on board -- but seeing how it all played out over the next few months and years left a bad taste and narrative change). Shawn winning the European Championship was what was best for business. Therefore Shawn flexing his backstage power "just because" or "only to hate on the Harts" makes zero sense.