Senior homecoming quotes

Getting organized to sit down and write a major term paper is such a daunting task for us folks with ADHD. As a student I would have vague ideas of what I want to write, but lacked the executive function to get to the job done. I would stare at a blank Word doc, type a sentence, delete a sentence, repeat. Unexpected for a writing major, I know. Are you looking for a way to break out of this cycle?
May I present: the Index Card Method.
As a high school student in the 1990s, I was forced to use this method to write a ten page senior thesis. Nearly all senior level English classes in my school used this method. Prior to that year, I had seen students carrying around fat stacks of index cards, protecting them like their ability to graduate depended on them. It did. I begrudgingly followed this methodical approach even though it wasn't "the way I write." Ironically, I found it so helpful I continued using this method throughout college, and admittedly even in grad school 25 years later.
What is it?
It's a low-tech system of organizing your sources, topics, details, citations, and anything else that goes into your paper.
Why low-tech?
It is a hands-on process loaded with sensory actions. Physically handling and arranging the index cards helps me focus on a task. Filling out an index card and setting it aside and then picking up another FEELS productive. Seeing a growing pile of index cards as you move through the project LOOKS like productivity. These sensory activities boost my momentum.
The best part of this method is how it breaks down a mountain of a project into smaller tasks without requiring me to create a big plan before I can start working on it. The size of each task is literally the size of an index card. Plus, it is an opportunity to use those cool pens you bought the last time you said you would start journaling.
The Index Card Method cannot be done the night before a paper is due, at least I wouldn't try it anyway. If you don't like writing outlines or drafts, give this method a try - but if you're cramming, do give yourself a week to get it done.
How does it work?

Step 1: Cards

Get some 3x5 index cards. For a 10-page, double spaced paper, you will need around 300 cards.
Do not get 150 4x6 cards. They must be 3x5.
For this post, I will assume anyone following this method is using lined index cards. It does not matter if the cards are lined, but know that when I say "On the top line write..." I mean where the actual top line of the card would be. This also means you will be writing across width of the cards in landscape orientation, meaning a full line of text on a 3x5 card runs 5 inches, not 3 inches.
There are two simple, but vital rules to remember when creating cards.

1. Only write on one side of the card. Leave the other side blank. You will need to see all of a card's contents at a quick glance.
   
2. If you make a mistake on a card, immediately tear it in half so it doesn't get mixed up with the ones you want to keep.
   

Step 2: Thesis card

You will only have a thesis card if you are writing a thesis (argument) paper.
In the center of the top line of your thesis card, write "Thesis Statement."
Now write your thesis statement below that.

Step 3: Topic cards

In the center of the top line write "Topic." Below that, write the name of a topic related to your thesis statement.
Topics should be broad, written as one or two words. Create as many topic cards as you think you will need. You can always create more later, so don't get stuck on this part.
Example: topics related to a thesis on the healthcare industry may include: Insurance, Costs, Medicare, Medicaid, Prevention, Prescription Drugs, Hospitals, etc.

Step 4: First Layout

Spread out your topic cards on a table. Select the broadest topics and line them up in a row in the order in which you would like them in your paper. Now arrange the narrower topics in columns below the broad topics in the order that makes sense to you. Using the example of the healthcare industry in the previous step, "Costs" may be a broad topic with "Insurance" and "Prescription Drugs" listed beneath it.
Split a topic if you need to. "Costs" could also be split into "Consumer Costs" and "National Costs", then "Insurance" and "Prescription Drugs".
Don't expect to have a lot of topic cards at this point. You may only have one or two subtopics for each broad topic. This is fine. You can always add more as you go along.
Take a picture of your topic cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just made an outline!
Now type it out. Title it "Preliminary Outline."

Step 5: Sources

Go find sources you would like to use for your paper. When you find a source you would like to use, create a bibliography card.

Step 6: Bibliography cards

In the center of the top line write "Bibliography".
In the upper left hand corner of the card on the top line, write the number "1", as it is your first Bibliography card. This is your source ID.
Now write the complete and proper reference of your source, formatted according to your citation style. Include doi links, if applicable. Where italic font is used in a citation, underline it on your card.
Open a new document file. Title it "References", "Works Cited", etc., depending on your citation style. Type out your bibliography cards in the order appropriate to your citation style. Most likely they will be alphabetical by author. As you find more sources and write out bibliography cards, add them to this document.
About citation styles:
A citation style is a way to reference your sources, specifically how you list them out and how you identify where you found a fact or quote.
If you are in highschool, your teacher will tell you how to write write and format sources and citations. If they don't, ask.
If you are an undergrad, most professors don't care which style you choose, but they want it consistent. If this is the case, I recommend using APA or MLA because they use simple, in-line citations.
If you are a graduate student, use the appropriate style for your field. If your reference style uses foot notes or end notes, please be aware you may need to create citation IDs later to help you stay organized.

Step 7: Read and Highlight

As you read through your sources, highlight anything that stands out to you that you may want to use in your paper.
This is where I would normally say it does not matter if your sources are printed or digital, but for many of us it does matter. Stepping away from technology is one the reasons I find this method so effective. I encourage you to print articles or photocopy sources when possible.
Your school likely has access to full-text articles online that can be downloaded as PDFs and printed later.
If your source is text from a website, right click on in the body of the text and select Print. When the print window pops up, select PDF (or Adobe PDF) as your printer. In the next pop up, select where you would like to store your file. Your source is now saved as a PDF. By the way, printing to a PDF is the easiest way to save a file while maintaining its formatting. Try it from any program. Now when you print it to paper, it will look like the PDF.

STEP 8: Detail cards

In the center of the top line write the topic related to the highlighted text. If you do not have a related topic card, make one.
In the upper left corner on the top line, write the source ID that matches the one on its respective bibliography card.
In the upper right corner on the top line of each card write the page number(s) from your source as "p 87" or "pp 87-88". If your source does not have page numbers, write your source's equivalent as it applies (act/scene numbers, time stamp, etc.). Look up a style reference guide for requirements.
Now in your own words, write about an area you highlighted. If you want to directly quote the article, make sure you use quotation marks. Otherwise, simply paraphrase it. Use complete sentences.
If you are copying a long quote and run out of room on a card, write the topic, source ID, and page number on another new card and continue writing your quote. In the bottom right corners write "1 of 2" and "2 of 2" respectively.
Create bibliography and detail cards for all your sources. Find more sources as needed. For a 10-page double spaced paper, expect to have around 150-200 detail cards.

Step 9: Second Layout

Lay out all of your topic cards in the same order as your preliminary outline, only this time line them all up in one row.
By this time you may also want to combine or eliminate topics because your project took a different direction from when you first wrote them. This is fine.
When you think you have enough detail cards, sort them into piles by topic. Now arrange your detail cards in columns under their topics in a way that makes sense to you.
Take a picture of all your cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just layed out your final outline!

Step 10: Type Your Outline

Save a copy of your preliminary outline and title it "Final Outline." Fill in the text from the detail cards. Each detail card should be a separate bullet point on your outline. After typing out a detail card, add the citation at the end. You already know the source because you wrote the source number in the upper left hand corner of each card.
You should not have anything in your final outline that is not written down on an index card.

Step 11: First Draft

Save a copy of your final outline and name it "First Draft." Now arrange your bullet points into paragraphs. This is your draft.
Now print it . Proofread it. Ask a friend to proofread it. Mark it up and make any necessary changes on paper. Don't change any quoted text because quotes are ...well ...quotes.

Step 12: Final Copy

Save a copy of your First draft and name the file "Final Copy." Type the edits you handwrote on paper. I realize with today's technology a lot of proofreading and peer editing is done electronically. This is fine. If you're using Google Docs, be sure to use Suggestion Mode. If using Word, turn on Track Changes.
Your paper is done.
High school students, if your teacher doesn't think you've made enough changes between your draft and your final copy, hand over your stack of index cards, both outlines, and your highlighted sources. They will know you didn't use ChatGPT or copy someone else's work because you can't fake what you've just handed to them.
Edit: See my other post for a technique that harnesses your ADHD to help you organize a project or to present new ideas to a group.
https://www.reddit.com/TwoXADHD/s/Y4pUfQR0R3

Let me explain. I (6.02x10^23M) had just met up with my master (∞M) as we haven't seen each other in 2347 primordial eras since I was in closed-door seclusion to break through.
When I met up with him, he had acquired a very vast amount of disciples. Now, alone this wasn't a strange thing at all, they all had very good talent and were all willing to learn, not viable to betray us.
No, what made this strange was that all of them were under the age of 10,000 years! Now, when he dragged them all here I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that he was just treating them like his own children, with no malicious intent. He gave them to me to take of them for a couple centuries, while he would look for more disciples. Strange how he wanted so much.
I started up some conversation in order to get close to them, as before this I had no other fellow disciples that I could call Junior or senior. However, what I found out was shocking!
It turns out that my Master was touching them in places that were uncouth, and sticking his Yang Dragon up them! I quote "Occasionally, Master starts roaming his around my body, telling me that he's "reshaping my bones," and sometimes at night, I feel some sort of rod poking me in my bum! Master tells me to relax, telling me that he's just giving me his yang energy! He's such a great master!"
I had asked the same thing to all the other disciples, and they all roughly said the same thing.
After 7 more centuries, my master came back with even more children! I observed him closer, and he had such a strange smile, unlike how he had behaved before. He was also muttering things like "system" and "hypnosis", a "loli harem" along with "mission reward". Seniors, I know what those words are, but I don't know how it relates to his situation at all!
I told my master that this was unlike him, but he feigned ignorance, so I let it go.
But once night, I heard large groaning and moaning sounds near our Heaven Demon Realm, so I went to see if any Universe Devouring beasts were trapped in our formation.
I went there, and what I saw shocked me. I saw my master ramming his Yang Dragon inside the youngest disciple he had recruited! She didn't look like she was enjoying it either. I also saw a bottle of aphrodisiacs spilled over near her.
Overcome with rage, I blew my master away and told him that he was a pedophile. Strangely, his strength had decreased last time I saw him. I said that I was not able to be his disciple anymore, and that from now on we would cut ways. I took our mountain peak which contained an infinite amount of Universes and around 21398 Higher realms (we were quite poor as I found out my master was buying strange outfits for his children disciples)
Now I have around 3,000 children calling me "senior brother" and I always get weird looks from the fairies. Its not all bad though, through this I have been enlightened and broke through 123098 major realms, and I bagged two fairies from the Heavenly Court! I think their names were Changxi and Xihe, they kept telling me they were bigshots but I don't believe it.
But sometimes when I cultivate, I think of my miserable master and his near-broken figure after I slapped him away that fateful night.
Fellow Daoists, was I the asshole?

Hello my dear Vancouverites, how are you guys and gals doing?
I lived in Vancouver between 2012 - 2013, I love this amazing city!
I sometimes get high and love to remember about my time in Vancouver!
And during one of those high sessions, I remembered an preshow or pre-production presented by Cineplex!
This preshow was about a group of people reenacting some famous movies quotes, there was an white haired senior lady trying to imitate a chainsaw!
Does anyone knows the name of that preshow, or if I can find it on Youtube?
Thank you in advance for your help!
And if someone can eat a Donair Dude for me tonight, I would appreciate a lot!

A handful of years ago, back when my hair was a little less grey, I was working as a junior doctor in a bustling city hospital, clocking 70-hour work weeks and pushing the limits of caffeine consumption. One evening, after an intense 14-hour shift, I was summoned by my senior physician to review a complicated case. The patient was a 60-year-old woman with a myriad of symptoms, but none fitting into the usual diagnostic boxes. Exhausted and admittedly, a little grumpy, I found myself fighting the urge to pass it off as just another case of hypochondria.
Instead, I dug deep into my mental reserves and asked myself: "What would Sherlock Holmes do?" Now, I didn't whip out a magnifying glass and start searching for minute clues, though the thought was amusing, to say the least. Rather, I used the mental model of first principles - breaking down complex problems into basic, fundamental components.
"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," Holmes had said. Fueled by this sudden burst of inspiration, I looked at the symptoms individually, seeking connections that I might have overlooked. After hours of poring over medical literature and jogging my memory of past cases, I finally stumbled upon a rare but fitting diagnosis - it was Hemochromatosis, an iron overload disorder.
The relief and gratitude that filled the room when we explained the situation to the patient and her family could have powered a small city. It was one of those moments that reminded me why I got into medicine - to learn, to solve, and most importantly, to help. It also taught me the value of first principles thinking and illuminated just how versatile mental models can be in healthcare.
P.S. Now, don't start picturing me walking around hospital corridors in a deerstalker hat and pipe, muttering profound quotes. This story is a hypothetical illustration of how we can apply mental models like first principles in our daily lives, especially in fields such as healthcare. Remember, when faced with a challenge, sometimes, it's ok to channel your inner Sherlock!

~Rayray~
It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Rayray… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.

“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.

“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.

I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.

A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.

I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.

I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.

I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.

The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist to not float away.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.

Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.

From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.

Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin to tell its worth—the reason for its troubles on display—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure to cure kicking legs—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on me, my very own typewriter—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path like a sail.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
As paper we write on each other—eat each other.

~Rayray~
It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Rayray… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.

“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.

“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.

I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.

A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.

I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.

I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.

I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.

The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist to not float away.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.

Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.

From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.

Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin to tell its worth—the reason for its troubles on display—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure to cure kicking legs—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on me, my very own typewriter—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path like a sail.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
As paper we write on each other—eat each other.

~Rayray~
It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Rayray… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.

“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.

“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.

I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.

A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.

I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.

I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.

I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.

The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist to not float away.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.

Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.

From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.

Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin to tell its worth—the reason for its troubles on display—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure to cure kicking legs—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on me, my very own typewriter—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path like a sail.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
As paper we write on each other—eat each other.

Reading the dissent to Kennedy v Bremerton, decided in the horrific rights purge in June of 2022, Justice Sotomayor pointed out that Justice Gorsuch made up the facts of the case in order to rule that a Christain majority or a school official has the right to impose their religious views upon a minority in a public school.
Gorsuch ignored both coach Kennedy's longstanding history of prayer coercion as well as the disruptive behavior by this coach to impose his religious will on a public school district.

"To the degree the Court portrays petitioner Joseph Kennedy's prayers as private and quiet, it misconstrues the facts"

She then went on to post pictures and newspaper records that this troublemaker coach made a very public and widely advertised display of prayer at the homecoming game where he challenged the school to do something about it.

Before the homecoming game, Kennedy made multiple media appearances to publicize his plans to pray at the 50 yard line, leading to an article in the Seattle News and a local television broadcast about the upcoming homecoming game. In the wake of this media coverage, the District began receiving a large number of emails, letters, and calls, many of them threatening.

He went on to pray, with cameras rolling for three games before he was fired.
At this point, I'll quote Alito's concurrence where we all should look at his ignorance of the facts and that the "history and tradition" test that was invented when Gorsuch pulled it out of his rear end to support this disgraceful ruling, was used as the basis for Dobbs and is being tossed around as logic to undo many of our civil liberties. We should also note this is the same guy with ethics concerns and who is currently obstructing court proceedings in an attempt to help his favored political candidate by slow rolling the simple question of whether or not a President can engage in blatantly illegal acts. You have to admire the nerve of this guy to lie like this while wearing the robes of a Supreme Court justice

Petitioner's expression occured while at work but during a time when a brief lull in his duties apparently gave him a few moments to engage in private activities. When he engaged in this expression, he acted in a purely private capacity.

There were news stories. He was on TV. Justice Sottomayor posted PICTURES of this anything but private and highly disruptive event. Coaches ended up quitting because of the threats. The kids didn't go back to praying once the troublemaker was removed from his job at this public school. It's so cute that he described an event where Kennnedy's lawyer sent a letter to the school and news cameras were set up and the collective community watched this newsworthy event as a "lull" LOL
Now we go back to Justice Sottomayor where she laments at the loss of the separation of church and state by placing the Free Exercise Clause ahead of the Establishment Clause in the destruction of Court precedence.
She writes that the court overruled Lemon v Kurtzman and many other cases with a new test called "history and tradition". She claims that the Establishment Clause, which allows the separation of church and state now became "toothless" and instead deferred to the Free Exercise Clause.

The Court reserves any meaningful explanation of its history and tradition test for another day, content for now, to disguise it as established law and move on. It should not escape notice, however, that the effect of the majority's new rule could be profound. The problems with elevating history and tradition over purpose and precedent are well documented, see Dobbs... (noting the innacuracies risked when courts "play amateur historian")
the court today... rejects the District's right to ensure that students were not pressured to pray... It is unprecedented for the Court to hold that this conduct, taken as a whole, did not raise cognizable coercion concerns... It elevates one individual's interest in personal religious exercise,... over society's interest in protecting the separation between church and state, eroding the protections for religious liberty for all... The Court sets us further down a perilous path in forcing States to entangle themselves with religion, with all of our rights in the balance

So why are we reading this in a sub for Project 2025?
Because this ruling, in my view, set the stage and gave permission for corrupt and politically motivated judges to mask their political intentions under a "misunderstanding" of facts. It showed everyone how to just make up your own hypotheticals, even if they are baldly contradictory, and apply them to decisions.
I've written about the FEC chairman a few times here and I notice this method all the time where he invents reasons to look the other way on allegations of campaign fund mis use. Simply put, one starts with one's decision to conspire with your right wing friends, then invent a hypothetical to support the decision.
Wild hypotheticals that misconstrue facts are becoming very common in rightwing judicial circles and are peppered throughout the Mandate detailing the plans for Project 2025. They needed a way to change the rules for everyone, as one could imagine the transition from democracy to fascism would require and I believe Kennedy v. Bremerton is the key to how they plan to do all of it.
When a court can invent facts, they can invent precedence and more importantly, bury historical precedence like Gorsuch did here

Hi guys,
TL;DR - I failed step 2 CK twice and passed it on my third attempt - matched this season and I need a visa. Open to answering any questions - comment/DM
Admins - I wouldn't mind if this can be pinned/saved for future applicants - I'll be open for questions/support throughout the coming years (because honestly I found zero posts when I failed even the first time - so hopefully it helps throughout!)
Step 1 = 225
Step 2CK = failed it twice - passed on 3rd attempt = 250
Step 3 = 235
YOG = 2019
Need visa = J1/H1b
2-3 months USCE in hospital = got through emailing and through the formal processes (used lists that circulate around FB - I unfortunately do not have these now and won't be able to help in this, I'm afraid)
Work experience = 4 years (including 1 year of telemedicine) (in different parts of the world so got to experience 4 healthcare systems which was great - had recommendations from all these jobs and used to support my application - I know it is usually said that US recs are preferred, but if you have worked in a job and they can attest to your work ethic, I thought it best to use those) - working is very important you lot - it helped me pay for all the exams (remember I sat 2 extra step 2s) and save enough to travel to US for USCEs - also helps you see beyond America and helps you realize that not all your worth is dependent on this
Other exams - I had sat the MRCP parts 1 and 2 written as common here in UK and I got partial sponsorship from my trust
Teaching experience = had done the teacher training course which is sponsored by NHS trusts here in England and then had a little more than 1 year of teaching experience with formal feedback and many online ones
Research experience = had done a research course online which was free during COVID and then got into publishing - did SMA/case reports/original research - had about 40 altogether (including published papers, posters, presentations, unpublished but submitted, unpublished but working on work, etc) = initially started with online ones (was bad - I was treated worse and thrown out of many projects - once they also took all credit for my work and published in a good journal without my name), eventually caught up and later worked with friends/colleagues - in all my jobs I did, I was able to publish case reports and work on original research with my line managers and colleagues (feel this is the best - try this as much as possible rather than only doing online)
Audit experience = had several informal small audits - no published ones to date but have worked on full cycle ones - so I did put that in my application
Volunteering experience = tiny ones during med school and COVID - had space for just one to be added on ERAS (as now only 10 experiences can be added)
Recommendation letters = had US ones and then from my jobs - I reckon only 1 was uploaded by my letter writer (so blind) - the rest, I uploaded by myself. Again I know it is usually the US ones preferred, but if your clinical leads in your jobs have good creds, do ask them to write too - as they can easily comment on your work ethic
Personal statement = mine was an entire page, wrote it myself, and just had it proofread by my sister for grammatical errors and nothing else. This is really your story - again I know everyone wants the perfect one here, but I felt that minute errors just depicted my nuances - trust me, I did use a little slang too and my last paragraph was informal, but again that was just how I write essays/speeches and have always stuck to my style.
My first time applying because since I failed, I knew I had to do everything in my power the first time I apply and that would be my last time applying (money crunch) - I applied to 375 programs (yes - very huge amount of money - took a loan for this and will repay now)
I had only applied to internal medicine because that's only what I ever wanted to do since 3rd year med school
Had 9 interviews - 1 from a prematch program - matched at a J1 program
I'm open to answering any questions/concerns/support whichever way I can - comment down below (preferred) but also open to DM if you lot feel you want to talk in private.
From here on - Just some things I learned and want to preach - I know It is super duper easy for me now to sit and preach and say all these big emotional and motivational things (I hated these when I failed too - felt disdainful) - take it with a grain of salt
I had the most brilliant and amazing school and college life - full of fun and enjoyment - then I graduated and took about a year of gap and sat step 1 and step 2 (first fail), I was very miserable - sat at home, had no experience, forgot all my hobbies, went out little to none (and I'm a huge extrovert!), spoke to friends on calls only, no relationship (didn't even look) -
when I failed, it was very distressing - my situation is weird - didn't know what to do after that failure, no money at all, zero connections in America at all, I have my parents and sister but absolutely no other family in this world but have some of the best people I call friends -
my parents, sister, flatmates and friends supported in every possible way (which I'm so thankful for) - then I thought I had to earn money to fund my further exams and started working and did many other things apart from clinical medicine (teaching/research/sitting exams/audits) and lived life (enjoyed with friends/hung out with colleagues/traveled/got back to my favorite sport - swimming/got back into singing and piano/got back into doing all my favorite hobbies/love and relationships, etc). obviously work helps with the money too and I was able to pay off some med school fee loans and all my exam loans and fund my further exams and all the moves between countries
Initially my plan was also like so many - take 2 years of gap and sit all exams and apply and interview and get into residency - I thought I'll go from graduating med school to sitting at home to study to starting residency
But after that miserable 1 year of gap, I've had so many different experiences that I sometimes feel (and I know this can be a bit patronising from my side) that it's good I failed - made me get out and enjoy life and made me learn that career is only 1 part of your life - there's so much more! Live life - its too short (shorter for us doctors) - enjoy - trust me (if anyone is right now in a similar situation like me), go out with your best friends and do fun things, discuss with them random gossip, something other than usmles or even what you're feeling (true friends are not to judge or give you solutions - they are there to listen and only listen when you vent/cry/scream) talk to your mum and dad about their lives and something different than this usmles (how many of us know our parents before they became our parents?) (or again discuss with them how you're feeling), play dress up, go on dates, etc, etc! Honestly moving out of my sitting at home plan and living and working in so many different countries, got me going!
(quoting disney) - keep the child in you alive, be kind always, have courage and always leave sparkles wherever you go!
Trust me everyone - people in this world have achieved far more impossible things - failing is nothing - the hardest part is consistency - super difficult to continue when you see all your friends and peers move onto residency or non-med friends move onto working in big jobs, or people living their lives and you stuck in a place - facing failure is very hard I know - but trust me we are all so much more worth - that's why i said above that working and living other aspects of your life is very important - makes you value yourself
do not put usmles or residency in America as something like a crowning jewel - most of us have tendencies to put it on a pedestal - when achieved, we can tend to become complacent and condescending (I was the same after I passed step 1 - super complacent, overconfident, condescending, superiority complex - the first fail humbled me - I've learnt it the hard way guys - stay as humble as possible); but when not achieved, we tend to feel we are worthless and don't know what to do. Not the best, is it?
Lastly - NEVER EVER let ANYONE (peers, people on social media groups, all these med influencers, other big doctors who you might look up to at this time, USCE/USMLE agencies, etc) tell you it is impossible! Hell just never let them tell you its very hard too (I see this in so many med influencers vidoes/posts that if you fail or even score less than certain amount it is sooo difficult, sooo hard with so much emphasis on sooo!) Also NEVER EVER let ANYONE disrespect you or patronise you (if a seniopeeanyone who has matched or achieved bigger things than you, doesn't mean they are kings and queens of this world - if they can't stay humble, not your problem - you shouldn't be made felt inferior in any way!)

Hi guys,
TL;DR - I failed step 2 CK twice and passed it on my third attempt - matched this season and I need a visa. Open to answering any questions - comment/DM
Admins - I wouldn't mind if this can be pinned/saved for future applicants - I'll be open for questions/support throughout the coming years (because honestly I found zero posts when I failed even the first time - so hopefully it helps throughout!)
Step 1 = 225
Step 2CK = failed it twice - passed on 3rd attempt = 250
Step 3 = 235
YOG = 2019
Need visa = J1/H1b
2-3 months USCE in hospital = got through emailing and through the formal processes (used lists that circulate around FB - I unfortunately do not have these now and won't be able to help in this, I'm afraid)
Work experience = 4 years (including 1 year of telemedicine) (in different parts of the world so got to experience 4 healthcare systems which was great - had recommendations from all these jobs and used to support my application - I know it is usually said that US recs are preferred, but if you have worked in a job and they can attest to your work ethic, I thought it best to use those) - working is very important you lot - it helped me pay for all the exams (remember I sat 2 extra step 2s) and save enough to travel to US for USCEs - also helps you see beyond America and helps you realize that not all your worth is dependent on this
Other exams - I had sat the MRCP parts 1 and 2 written as common here in UK and I got partial sponsorship from my trust
Teaching experience = had done the teacher training course which is sponsored by NHS trusts here in England and then had a little more than 1 year of teaching experience with formal feedback and many online ones
Research experience = had done a research course online which was free during COVID and then got into publishing - did SMA/case reports/original research - had about 40 altogether (including published papers, posters, presentations, unpublished but submitted, unpublished but working on work, etc) = initially started with online ones (was bad - I was treated worse and thrown out of many projects - once they also took all credit for my work and published in a good journal without my name), eventually caught up and later worked with friends/colleagues - in all my jobs I did, I was able to publish case reports and work on original research with my line managers and colleagues (feel this is the best - try this as much as possible rather than only doing online)
Audit experience = had several informal small audits - no published ones to date but have worked on full cycle ones - so I did put that in my application
Volunteering experience = tiny ones during med school and COVID - had space for just one to be added on ERAS (as now only 10 experiences can be added)
Recommendation letters = had US ones and then from my jobs - I reckon only 1 was uploaded by my letter writer (so blind) - the rest, I uploaded by myself. Again I know it is usually the US ones preferred, but if your clinical leads in your jobs have good creds, do ask them to write too - as they can easily comment on your work ethic
Personal statement = mine was an entire page, wrote it myself, and just had it proofread by my sister for grammatical errors and nothing else. This is really your story - again I know everyone wants the perfect one here, but I felt that minute errors just depicted my nuances - trust me, I did use a little slang too and my last paragraph was informal, but again that was just how I write essays/speeches and have always stuck to my style.
My first time applying because since I failed, I knew I had to do everything in my power the first time I apply and that would be my last time applying (money crunch) - I applied to 375 programs (yes - very huge amount of money - took a loan for this and will repay now)
I had only applied to internal medicine because that's only what I ever wanted to do since 3rd year med school
Had 9 interviews - 1 from a prematch program - matched at a J1 program
I'm open to answering any questions/concerns/support whichever way I can - comment down below (preferred) but also open to DM if you lot feel you want to talk in private.
From here on - Just some things I learned and want to preach - I know It is super duper easy for me now to sit and preach and say all these big emotional and motivational things (I hated these when I failed too - felt disdainful) - take it with a grain of salt
I had the most brilliant and amazing school and college life - full of fun and enjoyment - then I graduated and took about a year of gap and sat step 1 and step 2 (first fail), I was very miserable - sat at home, had no experience, forgot all my hobbies, went out little to none (and I'm a huge extrovert!), spoke to friends on calls only, no relationship (didn't even look) -
when I failed, it was very distressing - my situation is weird - didn't know what to do after that failure, no money at all, zero connections in America at all, I have my parents and sister but absolutely no other family in this world but have some of the best people I call friends -
my parents, sister, flatmates and friends supported in every possible way (which I'm so thankful for) - then I thought I had to earn money to fund my further exams and started working and did many other things apart from clinical medicine (teaching/research/sitting exams/audits) and lived life (enjoyed with friends/hung out with colleagues/traveled/got back to my favorite sport - swimming/got back into singing and piano/got back into doing all my favorite hobbies/love and relationships, etc). obviously work helps with the money too and I was able to pay off some med school fee loans and all my exam loans and fund my further exams and all the moves between countries
Initially my plan was also like so many - take 2 years of gap and sit all exams and apply and interview and get into residency - I thought I'll go from graduating med school to sitting at home to study to starting residency
But after that miserable 1 year of gap, I've had so many different experiences that I sometimes feel (and I know this can be a bit patronising from my side) that it's good I failed - made me get out and enjoy life and made me learn that career is only 1 part of your life - there's so much more! Live life - its too short (shorter for us doctors) - enjoy - trust me (if anyone is right now in a similar situation like me), go out with your best friends and do fun things, discuss with them random gossip, something other than usmles or even what you're feeling (true friends are not to judge or give you solutions - they are there to listen and only listen when you vent/cry/scream) talk to your mum and dad about their lives and something different than this usmles (how many of us know our parents before they became our parents?) (or again discuss with them how you're feeling), play dress up, go on dates, etc, etc! Honestly moving out of my sitting at home plan and living and working in so many different countries, got me going!
(quoting disney) - keep the child in you alive, be kind always, have courage and always leave sparkles wherever you go!
Trust me everyone - people in this world have achieved far more impossible things - failing is nothing - the hardest part is consistency - super difficult to continue when you see all your friends and peers move onto residency or non-med friends move onto working in big jobs, or people living their lives and you stuck in a place - facing failure is very hard I know - but trust me we are all so much more worth - that's why i said above that working and living other aspects of your life is very important - makes you value yourself
do not put usmles or residency in America as something like a crowning jewel - most of us have tendencies to put it on a pedestal - when achieved, we can tend to become complacent and condescending (I was the same after I passed step 1 - super complacent, overconfident, condescending, superiority complex - the first fail humbled me - I've learnt it the hard way guys - stay as humble as possible); but when not achieved, we tend to feel we are worthless and don't know what to do. Not the best, is it?
Lastly - NEVER EVER let ANYONE (peers, people on social media groups, all these med influencers, other big doctors who you might look up to at this time, USCE/USMLE agencies, etc) tell you it is impossible! Hell just never let them tell you its very hard too (I see this in so many med influencers vidoes/posts that if you fail or even score less than certain amount it is sooo difficult, sooo hard with so much emphasis on sooo!) Also NEVER EVER let ANYONE disrespect you or patronise you (if a seniopeeanyone who has matched or achieved bigger things than you, doesn't mean they are kings and queens of this world - if they can't stay humble, not your problem - you shouldn't be made felt inferior in any way!)

Hi guys,
TL;DR - I failed step 2 CK twice and passed it on my third attempt - matched this season and I need a visa (also absolutely zero connections in America). Open to answering any questions - comment/DM
Admins - I wouldn't mind if this can be pinned/saved for future applicants - I'll be open for questions/support throughout the coming years (because honestly I found zero posts when I failed even the first time - so hopefully it helps throughout!)
Step 1 = 225
Step 2CK = failed it twice - passed on 3rd attempt = 250
Step 3 = 235
YOG = 2019
Need visa = J1/H1b
2-3 months USCE in hospital (observerships only all) = got through emailing and through the formal processes (used lists that circulate around FB - I unfortunately do not have these now and won't be able to help in this, I'm afraid)
No connections in America - only one best friend (who's house I stayed in during USCE) and few other good friends - all these in other professions (not remotely attached to medicine)
Work experience = 4 years (including 1 year of telemedicine) (in different parts of the world so got to experience 4 healthcare systems which was great - had recommendations from all these jobs and used to support my application - I know it is usually said that US recs are preferred, but if you have worked in a job and they can attest to your work ethic, I thought it best to use those) - working is very important you lot - it helped me pay for all the exams (remember I sat 2 extra step 2s) and save enough to travel to US for USCEs - also helps you see beyond America and helps you realize that not all your worth is dependent on this
Other exams - I had sat the MRCP parts 1 and 2 written as common here in UK and I got partial sponsorship from my trust
Teaching experience = had done the teacher training course which is sponsored by NHS trusts here in England and then had a little more than 1 year of teaching experience with formal feedback and many online ones
Research experience = had done a research course online which was free during COVID and then got into publishing - did SMA/case reports/original research - had about 40 altogether (including published papers, posters, presentations, unpublished but submitted, unpublished but working on work, etc) = initially started with online ones (was bad - I was treated worse and thrown out of many projects - once they also took all credit for my work and published in a good journal without my name), eventually caught up and later worked with friends/colleagues - in all my jobs I did, I was able to publish case reports and work on original research with my line managers and colleagues (feel this is the best - try this as much as possible rather than only doing online)
Audit experience = had several informal small audits - no published ones to date but have worked on full cycle ones - so I did put that in my application
Volunteering experience = tiny ones during med school and COVID - had space for just one to be added on ERAS (as now only 10 experiences can be added)
Recommendation letters = had US ones and then from my jobs - I reckon only 1 was uploaded by my letter writer (so blind) - the rest, I uploaded by myself. Again I know it is usually the US ones preferred, but if your clinical leads in your jobs have good creds, do ask them to write too - as they can easily comment on your work ethic
Personal statement = mine was an entire page, wrote it myself, and just had it proofread by my sister for grammatical errors and nothing else. This is really your story - again I know everyone wants the perfect one here, but I felt that minute errors just depicted my nuances - trust me, I did use a little slang too and my last paragraph was informal, but again that was just how I write essays/speeches and have always stuck to my style.
My first time applying because since I failed, I knew I had to do everything in my power the first time I apply and that would be my last time applying (money crunch) - I applied to 375 programs (yes - very huge amount of money - took a loan for this and will repay now)
I had only applied to internal medicine because that's only what I ever wanted to do since 3rd year med school
Had 9 interviews - 1 from a prematch program - matched at a J1 program
I'm open to answering any questions/concerns/support whichever way I can - comment down below (preferred) but also open to DM if you lot feel you want to talk in private.
From here on - Just some things I learned and want to preach - I know It is super duper easy for me now to sit and preach and say all these big emotional and motivational things (I hated these when I failed too - felt disdainful) - take it with a grain of salt
I had the most brilliant and amazing school and college life - full of fun and enjoyment - then I graduated and took about a year of gap and sat step 1 and step 2 (first fail), I was very miserable - sat at home, had no experience, forgot all my hobbies, went out little to none (and I'm a huge extrovert!), spoke to friends on calls only, no relationship (didn't even look) -
when I failed, it was very distressing - my situation is weird - didn't know what to do after that failure, no money at all, zero connections in America at all, I have my parents and sister but absolutely no other family in this world but have some of the best people I call friends -
my parents, sister, flatmates and friends supported in every possible way (which I'm so thankful for) - then I thought I had to earn money to fund my further exams and started working and did many other things apart from clinical medicine (teaching/research/sitting exams/audits) and lived life (enjoyed with friends/hung out with colleagues/traveled/got back to my favorite sport - swimming/got back into singing and piano/got back into doing all my favorite hobbies/love and relationships, etc). obviously work helps with the money too and I was able to pay off some med school fee loans and all my exam loans and fund my further exams and all the moves between countries
Initially my plan was also like so many - take 2 years of gap and sit all exams and apply and interview and get into residency - I thought I'll go from graduating med school to sitting at home to study to starting residency
But after that miserable 1 year of gap, I've had so many different experiences that I sometimes feel (and I know this can be a bit patronising from my side) that it's good I failed - made me get out and enjoy life and made me learn that career is only 1 part of your life - there's so much more! Live life - its too short (shorter for us doctors) - enjoy - trust me (if anyone is right now in a similar situation like me), go out with your best friends and do fun things, discuss with them random gossip, something other than usmles or even what you're feeling (true friends are not to judge or give you solutions - they are there to listen and only listen when you vent/cry/scream) talk to your mum and dad about their lives and something different than this usmles (how many of us know our parents before they became our parents?) (or again discuss with them how you're feeling), play dress up, go on dates, etc, etc! Honestly moving out of my sitting at home plan and living and working in so many different countries, got me going!
(quoting disney) - keep the child in you alive, be kind always, have courage and always leave sparkles wherever you go!
Trust me everyone - people in this world have achieved far more impossible things - failing is nothing - the hardest part is consistency - super difficult to continue when you see all your friends and peers move onto residency or non-med friends move onto working in big jobs, or people living their lives and you stuck in a place - facing failure is very hard I know - but trust me we are all so much more worth - that's why i said above that working and living other aspects of your life is very important - makes you value yourself
do not put usmles or residency in America as something like a crowning jewel - most of us have tendencies to put it on a pedestal - when achieved, we can tend to become complacent and condescending (I was the same after I passed step 1 - super complacent, overconfident, condescending, superiority complex - the first fail humbled me - I've learnt it the hard way guys - stay as humble as possible); but when not achieved, we tend to feel we are worthless and don't know what to do. Not the best, is it?
Also, failing is super normal - nothing to be ashamed about or definitely no reason to just give up on life!
Lastly - NEVER EVER let ANYONE (peers, people on social media groups, all these med influencers, other big doctors who you might look up to at this time, USCE/USMLE agencies, etc) tell you it is impossible! Hell just never let them tell you its very hard too (I see this in so many med influencers vidoes/posts that if you fail or even score less than certain amount it is sooo difficult, sooo hard with so much emphasis on sooo!) Also NEVER EVER let ANYONE disrespect you or patronise you (if a seniopeeanyone who has matched or achieved bigger things than you, doesn't mean they are kings and queens of this world - if they can't stay humble, not your problem - you shouldn't be made felt inferior in any way!)

DUBAI

• Caroline Stanbury puts on a very loved-up display with her husband Sergio Carrallo at Brisbane's Lone Pine Sanctuary… after opening up about family plans (Daily Mail)

NEW JERSEY

• Where Did The Real Housewives of New Jersey Cast Go to College? (Bravo)
• Milania Giudice Looks Like an Actual Princess in Her Second Senior Prom Dress (PHOTOS) (Bravo)

NEW YORK

• Real Housewives of New York cast net worths (Cosmopolitan)

BEVERLY HILLS

• Kyle Richards Hints at Early Drama During RHOBH Season 14 Filming (Heavy)
• Kyle and Kathy Tease RHOBH Season 14 & Bozoma Saint John’s Debut: “She Is Something Else” (Bravo)
• Kathy Hilton Reflects on 'Very Scary' Time for Sister Kyle Richards as Her 28-Year Marriage Ends (ET exclusive)
• Kyle Richards and Mauricio Umansky's Latest Reunion Is Their Sweetest Yet (PHOTO) (Bravo)
• Erika Jayne promotes her new project, “Dominos,” in furry boots (Page Six Star Snaps)
• Yolanda Hadid's Photos When She Was Young Prove She Was Destined to Be a Model (Bravo)

BRAVO

• Kristen Doute Likely Won’t Mend ‘Conditional’ Lala Kent Friendship: ‘Don’t Need That in My Life’ (US Weekly)
• 'VPR' Is Dead, Long Live 'The Valley,' the New Mecca of Messy Reality Drama (Emma Chance for Pajiba)
• Vanderpump Rules’ Billie Lee Fires Back at Tom Sandoval’s Girlfriend Victoria, Says She’s “So Desperate” and Clarifies Claim About Victoria Moving Ariana’s Stuff (Reality Blurb)
• ‘Vanderpump Rules’ EP Alex Baskin Denies Cast Claims of Interference, Addresses Future of the Show (Kate Aurthur for Variety)
• Stassi Schroeder Announces Death of Her Stepfather (Heavy)
• Stassi Schroeder Says She Misses ‘Sleeping In’ Now She's a Mom of 2 (People exclusive)
• Summer House’s West Wilson and Ciara Miller Speak Out After Shocking Reunion Revelations (US Weekly)
• Amanda Confronts West Over Ciara in Unseen Reunion Moment: “Seems Like a Pattern" (Bravo)
• Summer House’s Paige DeSorbo Admits West ‘Fumbled the Bag’ With Ciara, but He’s ‘Not Like a Sandoval’ (US Weekly)
• Paige DeSorbo Is Summer House’s Season 8 Confessional Queen — And We Have the Quotes to Prove It (US Weekly)
• Craig Conover finally reacts to Kyle Cooke calling him a ‘liar’ over Loverboy investment feud: ‘Deeply disappointed’ (Page Six exclusive)
• Jasmine Ellis and Silas Cooper Share What They Would’ve Changed About ‘Summer House: Martha’s Vineyard’ (US Weekly exclusive)
• Fran Lebowitz, Annie Lebovitz, and Andy Cohen attend opening of Little Island’s summer season (Page Six exclusive details)

AFRICAN FRANCHISES

• Christall spills the tea on island romances, and her position with the ladies on The Real Housewives Ultimate Girls Trip (IOL)
• 'Real Housewives of Durban's Sorisha Naidoo and Husband Vivian Reddy Visit Tongaat Tornado Victims (Briefly)

Links to this week's episode discussion posts:

• Summer House S8E16 ☀️
• The Valley S1E12 🏘️
• RHODubai S2E1 🐪
• RHONJ S14E5 🍝

Disclosure: I am a paying member of CrossFit Linchpin and not paid or endorsed in anyway to write this review.
Crash course on my background: a non-athlete for the majority of my 51+ years on the planet. In my late 20s, I got sucked into the running community and over 17 years, I racked up 61 finishes of a marathon or longer… 32 ultras plus 29 marathons to include 3 x 100 mile finishes in 2009. Enter CrossFit on 11/4/2014 when I was invited to my first CrossFit class. The rest is history, as they say. Growing up, I did one season of track and nothing else and being on active duty in the Navy in the 90s didn’t require any real level of fitness. Prior to that first CrossFit class in 2014, I had never touched a barbell. I had a “great” pear shape of a running body. Long strong legs and the ability to run for hours upon hours but no strength up top. CrossFit changed it all and it was intoxicating. I cold-turkey quit running races and fully leaned into CrossFit. After two CrossFit gyms, my wife and I drove to Rogue Fitness in Columbus, OH after the CrossFit Open in the Spring of 2016 and loaded up our SUV full of gear to “open” our garage gym. For the next two years, I scoured the interwebs for workouts and injected as much variance as possible on my own, occasionally creating my own. We also built a 3rd “car” garage that became our CrossFit gym…and has never had a car in it. One of those programs I used occasionally was Pat Sherwood’s CrossFit Linchpin.
On May 8, 2018, I decided to join Linchpin. I kept doing searches for his brick-n-mortar gym and found nothing yet he was and is listed as a CrossFit affiliate. Turns out, Pat lives in Washington state and programs for his members and works out alone or with his wife, Emily, in their garage. It was really that simple. The subscription was (and remains) dirt cheap so I figured there was no danger in giving it a go. 6+ years later, I have never left and for as long as Pat continues programming, I have no plans to!
Pat has very much created his own path when it comes to style and approach to programming. There are a LOT of programs out there from Street Parking to Mayhem Athlete and countless others. Many programs cater to both the garage athlete and CrossFit “boxes” or gyms. In many CrossFit gyms, the “normal” one hour class includes a brief warmup, a strength component and some kind of WOD (workout of the day). Because classes are on a schedule, members will often find themselves rushed through the strength part. CrossFit Linchpin runs counter to that approach. A common phrase heard is “Respect the Heavy Days.” When we lift heavy, that is ALL we do. We properly warm up, give the lifts the respect they deserve, and go home. Pat also encourages athletes to do workouts “not for time” some days and lately, has been not suggesting but rather directing “for quality” vs. “for time.” It is common to see these on days where there are more complex movements and this provides the opportunity to focus on the movements and getting better at them. But don’t get me wrong… we light the fire quite often! It is normal to light the fuse with intensity about 2 out of 5 workouts a week. Two days (Thursdays and Sundays) are programmed rest days. If you dig back to what CrossFit truly is, it is constantly varied movements that are performed at a (relative) high intensity. “Varied” does NOT mean “random” at Linchpin. In fact, I would consider Pat more of a mad scientist of sorts. He looks at large blocks of time and ensures that the variance is VERY intentional. From going short vs. long, below parallel, overhead, light vs. heavy, and the list goes on and on. There is an incredible amount of focus that he gives to the programming and it is anything BUT random. In fact, Pat wrote a digital book on programming and offers it for free on his site.
One of my favorite things about Linchpin is how we live the quote “Lift Heavy Run Fast.” Just this week, we had 10 x 100m sprints. What brick-n-mortar boxes program that?! Just two days prior, we had a heavy day full of squat cleans and thrusters. One of my favorite workouts is Linchpin Test #5. 20 Back Squats (225/155), 2mi run, 20 Back Squats.
My reason for showing up in my garage every day is simple: care for my body in such a way that it fosters living a full and healthy life with my wife that I’ve been married to for 31+ years … for as long as possible. That includes being able to get out of a chair unassisted, to carry 2 x 40lb bags of salt down to the basement softener for years to come and to be able to react quickly in a crisis to help her or even a random stranger. I do not want to become a sedentary statistic. Our country is obese, on lists of medication and the majority truly does not take care of themselves. I seek to run against this and be an example of someone who was never an athlete, is physically built pretty darn wonky and will put on the pounds just by looking at food, yet remains fit, SHOWS UP every day and takes care of the body given to me.
But hold up! Pat doesn’t just program things into an app. He doesn’t promote another huge component of CrossFit Linchpin much but here it is: EDUCATION. He refers to this as increasing our “Fitness IQ.” What if you could walk into the garage every day, look at the prescribed workout, then make proper decisions for YOU on how to approach it? Choices like how much weight or what implements to even how much intensity to bring… Pat educates every single day and the cumulative effect of this over days and weeks and months and now over 6 years for me, is quite powerful. To look at a workout, acknowledge what the intent of it is, then making educated decisions on how to best retain the intended stimulus to meet the athlete where they are is KING. Some days I don’t want to touch a barbell so I lean on those dumbbells. Other days, my sandbags call and I bring them out to play. Some times here in NE Ohio in the middle of winter, there is a foot of snow on the ground but “Nancy” is programmed which has 400m runs in it. Do I bike? Ski? Row? No matter what life deals us at CrossFit Linchpin, we are equipped to handle it. Stress, sickness, lack of sleep, anxiety, little kids scurrying about… LIFE HAPPENS but FITNESS needs to happen, too. Pat has taught me how to navigate these waters called LIFE to come out on the other side stronger, fitter, and older by the day.
Case-in-point, I had knee surgery on my right knee in April 2023. I had a meniscus tear that appeared during 10x100m sprints in Aruba a few months earlier. 17+ years of distance running finally caught up to me! For me, I cannot miss days in the garage. Even if I’m sick, I go and modify it but I still show up. So as I recovered from this surgery, I continued showing up daily in the garage, even the DAY AFTER SURGERY. For that day, all I did was sit on the Echo Bike and very gently, move through full range of motion just to encourage blood and oxygen flow. As the days and weeks progressed, I would listen to my body and modify workouts to what I could do, smartly. I recall duing box squats at one point under a light load on a day where heavy back squats were prescribed. When running came up, I opted for one of the machines. The point is: my fitness IQ is high and I was able to keep showing up and modifying the daily workouts to meet me where I was in my life and recovery from knee surgery. I ended up recovering fully and today have zero limitations of any kind.
Here’s what you get for $18/mo or $90 for 6 months ($15/mo):

• Unlimited access to btwb (Beyond the Whiteboard) app and website
• Daily unique videos to explain the intent of the day’s programming and suggestions unique to that day
• Access to the closed Linchpin Facebook Group that has proved that social media can actually be GOOD and WHOLESOME
• Daily workouts that always include a 1) Prescribed workout, 2) Wildcard Option, 3) Scaled version, 4) Limited Equipment option, 5) No equipment option.
• Target times for every “for time” workout and target weights for heavy days
• Full prescribed warmup each day
• Cool down suggestions
• Videos for every single movement every single day
• Optional Accessory Work every day
• YES, this is all for $18/month!

Here’s what you get that you don’t pay for:

• Community that is hard to explain within our closed Facebook group. There are over 2400 people in there from all over the world. From fighter pilots to stay-at-home parents… from teenagers to those in their “senior” years… from collegiate athletes to people like me who didn’t get dealt a hand of awesome athletic genes from my parents. We have members in Australia, Europe, North and South America and countless other places. We meet in the FB group where we celebrate together and support each other during hard times both in life and fitness. It’s also free of foul language and the many other bad traits of social media. Are you a member and haven’t yet joined?
• Education: Pat goes live on his YouTube channel every Tuesday covering a random topic or interviews a Linchpin member. On Thursdays, he hosts an “Ask Me Anything” LIVE YouTube stream where he answers questions posed by the community in the FB group or in the chat feature in the btwb app. Further, within the FB group, members will post a question about anything and before Pat even sees it, members jump in with THEIR education and offer advice, tips, and support. That has been evidence of the cumulative effect of Linchpin’s education over the years. Pat has now accumulated well over 400 “Linchpin Conversations” from these Tuesday and Thursday videos and are all on his YouTube Channel.

If you want to check out CrossFit Linchpin, Pat offers a 30 day free trial. You’ll get full access to the btwb app as well as the closed FB group. Give it a shot! There is a welcome video from Pat and his wife, Emily, here and tons of information about Linchpin and it’s foundational principles.
If you have any questions at all, you can reach out to Pat at [info@crossfitlinchpin.com](mailto:info@crossfitlinchpin.com). If you have a question for me, it’s probably easiest to look me up on Instagram at garageboxnick and send me a DM.
Our Garage Gym Tour

Im about to be a senior next year and ive never been to homecoming, a football game, party, or friends honestly. I wanna die cus of it im literally wasting my teen years. Everyone said high school is the best but its the exact opposite. I just wanna go to homecoming or a party or js have friends so badly

This interview has so much tea even on Hrithik and Kangana.
Tell me about how it all started
In 2008 while shooting for the O Jaana song for Raaz 2, we started getting close. We used to go for drives and dinners.
One day I took her for dinner at The Taj. I was immature as any 20-year-old and we got into an argument about our exes (hers was Aditya Pancholi) when she got angry and created a scene.
She said she was going to the restroom. I waited for an hour then I called her. She told me she was at home. I didn’t understand at that time that there was something eccentric about her behaviour. I was like chalo theek hai…
The next morning when I went to her Lokhandwala home to say “sorry’ with flowers, she didn’t let me in.
She told me, “F*** off! It’s over.” Dad called her and she said, “I won’t let him in, Sir. Please tell him to go.” She made me beg for a very long time. I waited for five hours on her steps. I was doing things I never thought I would do.
She got me to shave my hair off while attending the Filmfare awards. I didn’t question it. My hair never looked uglier but she felt I needed a new style. And then on the stage she thanked everyone for the award. The camera was on me for a very long time but she didn’t mention me. She was walking ahead and I was walking behind her like her bodyguard. It was humiliating.
Did anybody caution you about dating her?
Haal-E-Dil was releasing and she had come for the premiere. I remember Aditya Pancholi was standing at the exit and Kangana was just walking out.
He stopped me, looked into my eyes and said, “Welcome to the circus my friend and all the best!” I didn’t understand at that time. Kangana clarified saying that Aditya did that to intimidate people with her.
I told her I am not scared because we are not doing anything wrong. At the time we were getting to know each other, but we hadn’t made it public.
When did it become public?
A month into our relationship. We were shooting a song in South Africa, when I got a call from a journalist asking me if I was dating Kangana. I denied it saying she was just a friend, however clichéd it sounded.
The journalist told me he had found out that I went to her room at night. I told him that it was wrong to talk about a woman like that. I hung up and she began screaming that, You are trying to hide the fact that you are seeing me! “You think I am just your f* buddy?”**
What followed?
She made me call back the journalist and tell him how much I loved her etc. I hung up and told her that I’d given him a quote from my side, what about a quote from her? I said tell him that you love me also because otherwise it will sound one-sided.
She didn’t do that and I wasn’t able to figure out why. I came back to Mumbai and saw the story splashed across all the papers about how I was besotted by her. I said to her this isn’t how it is. It was mutual. My father was furious. He felt the story should not have been one-sided.
There were many stories about how devoted you were to her…
Yes. I was with her in Bangkok when my father saw the first cut of Jashn on December 31, 2008 and he called me at night and got emotional. He said that he was very proud of my performance. He said when I came back I would have a surprise waiting for me on my birthday — January 13.
On my birthday eve, at my home, dad called me down and gave me the keys to my dream car — a BMW 7Series. I was thrilled and touched when my dad gifted it to me! It wasn’t about a father spoiling his son, but a father who had seen the work of his son and was proud of him. I cried and hugged him.
Kangana had left earlier as she didn’t want to face the media. I wanted to share my happiness with her and called her to tell her about my dad’s gift.
She said coldly, “Achcha? Really? They gifted you a one crore car? Aisa kya ukhada tumne life mein?” This was when she had won a National Award for Best Supporting Actress for Fashion and had no work.
I remember her frustration of not getting any work for four-five months. In less than a week’s time, she went to Hyderabad and called me to say, she’d signed the Telugu film Ek Niranjan with Prabhas.
She came back and booked the same car dad had gifted me! She had no money so she went all the way to Hyderabad to sign the film and buy the car.
Kangana couldn’t take it that I had a car, she couldn’t afford. There were stories in newspapers about how she had bought the same car as me, etc. This was two months before our break-up. Later, I sold off my car because of the pressure of failure.
Were you guys fighting a lot before the break-up? Yes. I’d always see her eccentric behaviour as a woman’s emotions.But it started getting worse. One day when I was at her house, time, Bhattsaab called me after seeing the rushes of Raaz 2 and told me he loved my work and he would direct me.
He quit directing by then, so I was like ‘Wow, that’s amazing!’ I was talking on speakerphone and she was hearing everything. She told me, “Behen** mujhe koi kyun nahi phone kar rahe yaar?”**
That was the first time I heard her abuse. I was made to feel guilty and like shit for no reason. I realised that she wasn’t happy that the Bhatts had started giving me so much attention. +I made sure that Mukeshji and Bhattsaab called her told her how good she was too*
What was the first shock that you got?
It was during the shooting of Kites. She got friendly with Hrithik and his wife. There were occasional dinners with them and I went for a few.
Hrithik had invited Kangana for his birthday and he called me also. I brought flowers and an expensive champagne
We were sitting and talking when Hrithik walked in. She cut me abruptly, picked up my flowers and champagne and handed it to him saying, “Happy birthday! This is from me for you.”
She didn’t even introduce me. She started networking and I was left alone with a drink in my hand.
I was feeling really upset and left and I got a little high. One moment she made me feel loved and then in the next, it was like I was a nobody in her life! I was standing at the bar alone when Kangana walked up to me said some actor at the party was trying to grab her a**.
I felt protective towards her but I was at someone’s house and creating a scene would be rude so I told her, ‘Let’s go.’ She went back to doing her thing. Later she came and told me let’s go right now.
I was walking down the stairs with her, when she turned around and slapped me! She said, “Mother Fu, behen! Bhsd*ke! You are f*** jealous of my success!” The intensity of the slap was so hard I was almost crying. That was the first time she got violent**
What did you do?
My only thought was: The entire media was outside. How am I going to get out and go? I was tearing up like a child and shivering at the violently abusive language.
She told me to drop her home, and then in the car, she started hitting me. Eventually, I asked my driver to stop the car. I decided to take a rickshaw home. I was in the middle of the road crying and shouting at her, “You are crazy! F***** up!” And she was abusing me MC/BC gaalis.
My family driver of 20 years came crying to me and said, mere liye thoda sa bhi pyar hai toh ghar chalo. I will never forget that night. I dropped her home and she picked up her stiletto and threw it at me!
I picked up my phone and smashed it against the wall. I didn’t know how to vent my anger. That was the start of her physical violence with me.
What happened next?
The next day we had a press meet for Raaz 2 at my building. Kangana said she wouldn’t come. Our PR started panicking but then she turned up. I took held her hand and said, “Baby I am so sorry. I love you.” She slapped me hard, again. I was just zapped! I was crying like a kid… and then the entire rant and MC/BC gaalis began. I realised then that she’d made up the whole thing about the actor trying to grab her a. She said that just to f*** my mind with these mind games**
To the waiting media, even though I felt like a complete a**hole I gave an interview saying, ‘She was one of the most beautiful actresses that we have in the country today and a huge star.’
In her interview she mocked me and said I was the most spoiled brat that she knew who didn’t come to sets on time etc. I just laughed it off like a joke, I had no other option.
I had just come out after being physically abused and emotionally tortured I had to praise her and hear things about how I didn’t want to work etc. It was traumatising.
On her birthday in March 2008 at The Leela, she had invited everybody that she had worked with. She said “Let’s do cocaine in the night.” I had smoked hash with her a couple of times before and didn’t like it so I said no. I remember getting into the biggest argument that night because I said no to cocaine.
Why did you take all this abuse?
Kangana had this amazing knack of manipulating my emotions and drawing me back. She took me to this tarot reader Sunita Menon who said we were meant to be together and that gave me confidence and strength to work at the relationship, even though I was going through shit.
I hadn’t told my parents about this. If my father ever knew that she hit me, I can’t imagine his reaction. I stopped going home, and started living with her.
I started drinking and smoking a lot. My relationship with my parents changed. I became defiant. The visit to Sunita happened right after we broke up. Kangana called me to her house and started crying. She said, “I cook for you and wash your clothes and how will I live without you?” That made me very emotional and we got back together.
Then it got worse?
Yes. On January 13, 2009, at my birthday party at home, after most people left, Mohit Suri, Kangana, Kunal Deshmukh, my parents and dad’s few close friends were talking about how actors sometimes tend to sell our souls for commercial films.
Kangana started to get offended and said, ‘We don’t sell our souls’. Dad said he was giving a generic example but she took it personally and she called my father a b****** in front of everyone.
My father was furious. She left screaming started screaming abuses at him in Hindi. One thing I can’t still forgive myself for — I was a bad son to my parents during that time.
This one moment changed my life forever— the way she spoke to my father. But at the time, she had manipulated my mind so beautifully that rather than breaking up with her that night, I screamed at my father. I smashed things because I was losing my mind.
You defended her when she abused your father?
The way I spoke to my father that night is something I can never forget and forgive myself for. It makes me cry even today. I was starting to become someone else.
I went to Kangana’s house that night and apologised for my dad’s behaviour and ended up spending the night with her. I didn’t go home for two days. Then dad started getting calls from the film fraternity Aditya Pancholi called my dad and said, “Shekharji kya ho raha hai? She’s crazy, a psycho and this has been her behaviour pattern.
He was right as that was exactly her behaviour pattern with me. Aditya told my father that if he wanted he would speak to me but he should get me out of Kangana’s clutches as she would ruin me and by the time I realised it it would be too late for me..
She also tried to jeopardise your career?
People magazine wanted us on the cover. I learnt that she called the magazine editor and said she didn’t want to shoot with me, but with Imran Khan whose film Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na was a hit. I lost out on a couple of covers because of her. Rather than people talking about my successful film, media would write stories about me being besotted with her. My career suffered because of that.
What followed next?
Kangana took me to another astrologer called Pallavi who always gave positive news to Kangana and negative ones to me.
She said my time wasn’t right and if I did certain pujas I would be fine. I didn’t believe in all this but Kangana insisted I listen to her.
One day, Kangana called me at home in the night to do some puja. I reached at 11.30 pm as the puja was to start at 12.
She had a small guest room in her apartment and she had covered it in black, including black curtains. There were some random statues of God, fire all around, some scary things (kept) puja. She asked me to chant some mantras, and locked me in. I was terrified. I didn’t do it and I came out and told her that I had
Then she started taking me to Pallavi frequently. One day, Pallavi said go to the graveyard at 12 am and throw these certain things. I was chilled to the bone! I didn’t go.
Are you talking about black magic?
Yes. Being a metropolitan kid studying in London and New York, I was always away from things like astrology and black magic. I remember going to my Tarot reader after she started making me doing pujas. She told me she sensed a woman from pahadi region doing black magic on me.
I knew only one person back then, my girlfriend Kangana, who used to go to Himachal for certain pujas there.
My Tarot reader said she saw something really bad happening and warned me to get out of the relationship. She told me, “You feel you want to come out of it and every time you make a decision of wanting to come out, you fail and are back at it again.”
My career stopped completely. I had a successful film Raaz 2 behind me but nobody wanted to talk about me. I started seeing this decline. My films were shutting down while she was achieving more success. Even talking about it scares me now....
What happened after this?
My mother was very worried and she called the family’s Panditji to come home and meet me. The first thing he asked me was: “Khana banati hai tumhare liye?”
When I said yes, he said, “Apna impure blood milati hai khaane mein black magic ke liye.” I didn’t want to accept anything against her. I would tell people who said anything negative about her to f*** off.
The physical violence had become so frequent in my relationship with her that any other guy would have hit her back. But I couldn’t. Every time I was hit, I wanted to retaliate but my hands would just stop. I was scared as hell. I would cry to my PR every single night. I would drive down Marine Drive with a bottle of scotch on my lap, drunk.
I got into a phase where I could not accept reality and thought it was better to be perpetually drunk all the time. I had reached a stage where I would have either died because of an overdose of alcohol or gone mental.
My mom prayed a lot for me. The same Pandit later on came on Salman’s Dus Ka Dum also and he looked at Kangana in the middle of the show and said “Aap Pisachini (demoness) hai.” She treated it as if it was a joke. It’s there on national TV.
Please go on
In one of his interviews, my father was asked a question on Kangana and he said “She was a senior actress” but not in a derogatory way.
We were headed to an event when she started abusing my father in filthy language. That day something snapped in me.
Hearing her abuse my father and still being by her side every night was something that shamed me. After we split, it took me five years to get over that guilt.
I was a bad kid to my parents and that’s something I can’t forgive myself for. Everything else was a learning experience.
I remember Kangana physically abusing me in the car again. When we reached the hotel, in front of the media she was so normal. It was like interacting with a split personality. On one hand it was MC/BC and on the other it was ‘Baby I love you so much.’
It was around this time you learned about her texts to Hrithik?
She gave me her phone’s old chip to transfer to her new phone. While doing that I saw her inbox was all empty — which was okay as it was a new phone — but there were 50-70 messages to Hrithik Roshan.
I knew she was eyeing him from back then, from the time she went to Las Vegas for Kites. Hrithik had hurt his arm and she had gone to see him. I knew her desperation to get to know him well.
I asked her about these messages. She said that he was her co-star and she had to talk to him like that. She made me believe that all those texts to him were casual. And I could believe that because whenever I met Hrithik and her together, he always maintained his distance.
As a guy you can see it when there’s something brewing between two people especially when they are drinking and the masks come off.
I never saw any feelings from his side. So, these stories about Kangana’s obsession with him had begun back then of her wanting to get him.
Those messages made me realise that I had to get out of this relationship and fast. Every time she had to put her point across she would get physically abusive.
She dominated me to a level where I couldn’t make a decision for myself. My parents would feel very embarrassed and yet my mom, seeing my mental state, would go and beg Kangana asking her to patch up with me after every fight. I have realised our parents are the most important people in our lives. They would do anything for you. Their selfless love has made me come back to what I was.
So when did you finally break up?
My father was getting into politics. She started imagining that dad wanted her to campaign for him. I said to her, ‘Are you out of your mind?’
Then she started abusing my dad. She said “Tumhara pura khandaan mere stardom ko use karna chahta hai?”
She was talking about a man whose been in this industry for 25 years, seen so much stardom of his own and has so much love, support and goodwill in the industry.
Why would he need her? I came back to my house and she messaged me something again about my father. That was it. I messaged her back “Now you can f*** off. It’s over between us.”
She felt it was one of those break-ups where we’d get back together. Exactly one year after we started dating, we finally broke up.
I told her never to call or message me again. I made sure I never crossed paths with her again. I haven’t seen her for seven years, not been in same room, at an event or anywhere.
The last conversation we had was when she called to tell me I had left some clothes behind. I told her to give it to charity. It took me five years to get over the whole thing.
I lost five years of my precious time, I lost out on relationships as people hated me because I was with her. They felt I wasn’t the same person anymore.
Only my friend Sonu understood the space I was in and supported me all through this hell. I took off to NYC after that. I would pass my time staring at the ceiling, eating food, because of which I put on 25 kgs, and crying.
Why didn’t you talk about your break-up then?
I couldn’t. I was depressed. She was telling people how I suddenly broke up one day and was getting the sympathy.
I didn’t have the energy. I was too weak to defend myself and thought no one will want to believe me.
The entire feeling of being called a loser, and people calling me “Kangana’s boyfriend”, had taken its toll and robbed me of my confidence.
Then it became all about how I had used her. But people called me and said, “Dude it was a very simple plan. She wanted respectability as she came out of an extra-marital affair and she wanted to get hooked to someone from a respectable Bollywood family. And the moment she got success she would be out from your life in a jiffy.”
That’s exactly what happened. She wasn’t even a star when I met and we started dating. It was me who came from a star background so who used who?
At the time when this was published, no one believed Adhyayan. He seems to have gone through a lot. He was brilliant in Heeramandi and hope he gets good work in his second innings.

At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
[Previous Chapter][Patreon][Cover Art]
Vell blasted through the tentacle of another shoggoth, and kept running before the limb reformed. While the creatures were gelatinous enough that bullets wouldn’t normally harm them, they were so poorly held together that the sharp impact of a bullet splattered their limbs into puddles. The membranous masses would reform eventually, but Vell only needed a few seconds to slip by.
After running past another manufactured shoggoth, Vell examined his options. He was really glad he had taken Helena’s advice and read the supervillain guide more thoroughly, as it contained one indispensable piece of advice: the superweapon was always up. No matter how labyrinthine the underwater fortress became, all Vell had to do was look for a way up. He found a staircase and headed up, hoping this one would finally be the last one.
For once, his prayers were answered. Vell stepped up, slammed open a door, and looked up at a dome of water above.
“Hey! Don’t just go around slamming doors open, this is a submarine!”
Mi Go was standing atop a platform next to a large beam weapon—presumably the very same one that had mutated Vell on the previous loop—and was shouting down at Vell.
“You could have flooded my entire base!”
“You’re the one who built it that way,” Vell said.
“I had to!”
“I know, it’s in chapter five,” Vell said. Every supervillain had to build at least one major structural flaw into their bases, or a self-destruct function. “You could’ve picked a different one! An airlock, or a vent, or something. People open doors, that’s like, the one thing doors are for.”
“Don’t critique my base design, and especially don’t quote that clown to do it,” Mi-Go snapped. “It doesn’t matter. I had the protective dome deployed anyway!”
Vell looked up at the glass dome that separated him and Mi-Go from the dark waters above, and saw those dark waters start to get brighter. He cursed under his breath. Chapter eight: the hero always arrives just barely before the villain begins their plan.
“In mere moments, we will reach the surface,” Mi-Go said, beginning the requisite villain speech. The waters above turned crystal blue, indicating they were near the surface. “Once the dome is opened, I will unleash my ultimate creation, and the entire world will be reshaped into unspeakable horrors!”
Mi-Go threw up his hand and laughed the requisite laugh as the submersible finally breached the surface and rose into the open air.
“You’ll never get away with this, Mi-Go, I’ll- Watch out!”
“Yes, you will watch me as I- oh shit!”
Vell and Mi-Go both dove for cover as a rocket soared through the air and slammed directly into the dome, crashing halfway through it before getting stuck. Once the shards of reinforced glass had stopped falling, Vell looked up just in time to see a hatch opening, and Doc Ragnarok leaping out of the rocket.
“Mi-Go!”
“Ragnarok, you asshole,” Mi-Go said. “I was just about to open the dome. You could’ve waited five seconds!”
Mi-Go angrily gestured to the shattered glass all over the floor, and the massive hole in his dome.
“Do you have any idea how much that’s going to cost to repair?”
“Save it, Mi-Go,” Doc Ragnarok snapped. “Don’t think I can’t tell that raygun is aimed at my base.”
“At my dorm, by the way,” Skye said, as she dropped out of the rocket.
“Skye?”
“Hi Vell,” Skye said. “Quick update, we’re here to help and my dad knows we’re dating now.”
“Oh, okay,” Vell said. “That’s, uh, that’s nice. Sorry for not saying anything earlier, Mr. Ragnarok-”
“Save it for after the shoggoths,” Doc said. Vell took a step forward and narrowly dodged a tendril from a shambling shoggoth rising up the stairwell behind him, as others rose from various openings around the dome.
“Oh, okay, sounds like a plan,” Vell said. “You guys want to handle the ray gun, or should I?”
“For legal reasons, I’m only here to compete with a rival villain,” Doc Ragnarok said. “All the actual hero work is up to you.”
“Stop bantering with the hero, this is my lair,” Mi-Go shouted. “Minions, attack!”
The shoggoths shuffled forward, slimy tendrils at the ready. Doc Ragnarok was not impressed.
“That’s my line,” he said. “Minions, attack!”
The hatch on the rocket he’d entered from opened again, and this time dozens of robotic drones poured out. While most of the drones swooped through the air towards the shoggoth’s, one flew down and dropped a barebones ray gun into Skye’s hands -the stripped down remnants of their “death ray”. Mi-Go was thoroughly unimpressed by the drone swarm.
“You want to threaten me with toy drones and foam darts?”
“Yes, I do,” Doc Ragnarok said, as his drones began to pepper the shoggoths with tiny darts of foam and rubber. “You always were too focused on the ‘mad’ rather than the science, Mi-Go. Your monsters are eighty percent slime, and foam is absorbent.”
The barrage had barely begun, and the shoggoths were already noticeably slower. Dozens of foam darts were absorbing the membrane they needed to move, making the abominations even slower and clumsier than they already were. One of them raged at the annoying assault of the drones, and raised a tentacle to swat them down, only to be met with a blinding red laser to one of its malformed green eyes. Skye smiled confidently as the shoggoth thrashed under the blinding beam.
“And having semi-transparent eyelids makes it hard to avoid a very powerful laser pointer,” Skye said. She aimed the beam at another shoggoth that got too feisty. Though they had multiple eyes to see through, their minds were too dull to process the sensory overload in even one of them.
“You’re a terrible supervillain, Mi-go,” Doc said.
“Why? Because I have a handful of oddly situational weaknesses?”
“No, you imbecile,” Doc continued. “You’re a terrible supervillain because you took your eyes off the hero.”
Mi-Go let out a confused grunt, and turned around just in time to see Vell’s knuckles coming the other way. A single punch to the jaw was all it took to send Mi-Go sprawling over the railing of his ray gun’s control platform. He dropped to the floor as Vell dashed to the weapon, took out one of his revolvers, and fired at anything that looked important. The mutagenic machine let out a few sparks and explosive crashes as vital components were obliterated and the entire device fell dead. Mi-Go regained his bearings and looked up in horror as his attempted superweapon tried to collapse right on top of him.
“Hold on,” Vell said. “I can fix-”
His short-lived attempts to save Mi-Go from being crushed by his own weapon were unnecessary, thanks to Doc Ragnarok’s intervention. He nabbed Mi-Go by the labcoat and pulled him away just before the device crashed down on him. For some reason, Mi-Go did not look happy about it.
“Oh, damn you,” Mi-Go said. “You know every good supervillain is killed by their own creation!”
“I know,” Doc Ragnarok said. “Like I said: you’re not a good supervillain. You can have your ironic death when you’ve earned it. For now…”
Doc Ragnarok let go of Mi-Go’s collar and slapped him across the face.
“That’s for almost mutating my daughter.”
Mi-Go rubbed a sore cheek and spat on the ground near Doc’s feet.
“You’d be better off without her,” Mi-Go said. “Do you think I’d be this angry if you were some second rate villain? You were a legend, Ragnarok, you were inches away from conquering all of Europe! And then that girl-”
“That ‘girl’ is my daughter,” Doc snapped. “We’re supervillains, you imbecile, we’re not here to win, we’re here to challenge -to be a great evil that gives rise to a greater good. And there is no greater good than my daughter.”
Though it was caged within very odd circumstances, Skye still smiled at the sentiment. The good mood was cut short when her father punched Mi-Go in the face, this time knocking him out cold.
“Bastard,” Doc mumbled. “Now, shall we get out of here?”
“Please,” Vell said. “I’ve got shoggoth slime in my underwear.”
***
Dean Lichman rubbed partially decayed temples as Mi-Go’s aquatic fortress was towed away.
“Kim, tell me, is everything I plan doomed to go this way?” He lamented. “It seems like I can’t host any kind of event without...this.”
He gestured to the massive skull fortress as it drifted away. Kim shrugged.
“I think it’s just how things go around here,” Kim said.
“I’m glad you were on hand to stop it, at least,” Dean Lichman said.
“Oh, yeah, do me a favor, don’t tell Vell and the other guys I cut the power like ten minutes before they had their thing,” Kim said. “Apparently it was all kind of dramatic, I don’t want them to feel like it was a waste of energy.”
“I don’t think I’ll have a problem never talking about this again,” Dean Lichman said.
“It’s not all bad,” Kim said. “You still got your hosting fee, and the Supervillain Union is taking care of cleaning up Mi-Go’s unauthorized base, so you’re still in the black.”
“The things I do to keep this school afloat,” Dean Lichman sighed. He shook his head one more time and wandered away from the sorry sight. Kim watched the skull fortress drift away for a few more seconds, then left as well, heading for the senior dorms. The disassembly and cleanup of Doc Ragnarok’s lair was just about done, which meant it was the perfect time to show up and pretend to be helpful. Kim strolled past a few drones hauling away death ray parts and leaned on a wall near Vell.
“Need a hand?”
“Maybe with some heavy lifting, but we’re just about done,” Vell said.
“I told them we should’ve just used the self-destruct,” Doc Ragnarok said.
“Not while it was connected to my dorm, dad.”
“It was a non-explosive self-destruct,”Doc Ragnarok said. “A swarm of nanobots would’ve disassembled-”
“And then we’d have half a ton of iron filings to vacuum up all over the building,” Skye said. “Just drop it, dad.”
“It just feels wrong. Supervillain lair’s aren’t meant to be disassembled, they’re meant to be self-destructed, or destroyed by the hero.”
“Well technically, I am the hero,” Vell said, as he pried some paneling off a wall. “And I am destroying it.”
“Ha! That’s true,” Doc Ragnarok said. He unplugged one last bit of circuitry and shut down a container of bubbling fluid. Vell had asked about the purpose of the bubbling fluid earlier, and apparently it was solely for aesthetic reasons. Every supervillain lair needed glowing lights or bubbling vats, according to Doc Ragnarok.
“Anything else we need to unplug?”
“No, that should be the last of it,” Doc said. “The robots can handle the busywork from here. Ah, not including you, Ms. Kim, unless-”
“I get it,” Kim said. “I’ll leave it to the drones.”
Kim said goodbye and headed back to her dorm, while Skye led the other two back to hers. Vell found his way to the couch and fell onto it with an exhausted sigh.
“Sorry you didn’t get your thwarting, Doc.”
“Quite alright, whooping Mi-Go was more than enough fun to make up for it,” Doc Ragnarok said. “Besides, I get thwarted for a living. This was all just an excuse to visit my daughter, and on that front I’m doing very well.”
Doc looked at Skye for a moment, and then focused his attention on Vell.
“On that note,” Doc said. “You two have been dating for a year, then.”
Both halves of the couple pursed their lips and made awkward eye contact for exactly five seconds. Skye bit the bullet.
“Yeah, we met through, uh mutual friends, hit it off, had some common interests,” Skye said. “Vell met Roxy Rocket, you know, has a guitar autographed and everything, we could-”
“Don’t try to tempt me with my love of Roxy Rocket,” Doc Ragnarok said. “I have a question, and I want you to answer me honestly, Skye.”
She grit her teeth and prepared for the worst.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
That was not the worst, and Skye was not entirely prepared for it.
“A lot of reasons, I guess,” Skye said. “At first it’s because it’s a new thing, you know, not really worth mentioning, and then later on it gets awkward to bring up, or I got worried you wouldn’t like him, or I didn’t know how to start the conversation.”
“I’m your father,” Doc said. “I want to know what’s happening in your life, especially if it’s a boy you like enough to fight Lovecraftian monsters for!”
“You never asked!”
Father and daughter fell silent together. Vell considered stating the obvious, and wondered how best to say “you have some communication issues”. A sudden burst of laughter told him they might have come to the same conclusion on their own.
“Alright, you’ve got a point,” Doc said. “I’ll try to call more.”
“And I’ll try to talk more when you do,” Skye said. “Just mind the timezones. Last time you called from the himalayas you woke me up at one in the morning.”
“Ah. Well, I can imagine why you didn’t update me on that particular occasion,” Doc said. He slapped the arm of the chair he was sitting on and turned to Vell. “Sorry you got dragged into all of this.”
“No problem. I get dragged into everything,” Vell said. “At least this one helped Skye.”
“See, this is why I’m glad you two met,” Skye said. “If I had asked any other boyfriend to do this, they’d have dumped me on the spot, and if any other dad had met a guy like Vell, he’d never approve.”
“Birds of a feather, as they say,” Doc said.
“The name alone must be a pretty big hurdle for most guys,” Vell said. “How do most people react when you tell them your dad’s name is Doc Ragnarock?”
“I don’t,” Skye said. “His-”
“Now, don’t you dare, I have carefully cultivated a persona-”
Skye ignored the warnings and barreled through.
“His name’s Melvin.”
“Why?” Doc Ragnarok/Melvin pleaded. “Skye, please, respect the kayfabe.”
“With normal people, fine,” Skye said. “But Vell is my boyfriend, and my boyfriend gets to know my dad the guy, not my dad the supervillain.”
“Fine,” Doc said. “Fine. Okay. My name is...Melvin Lewis.”
“We can stick with Doc, if you like,” Vell said.
“Yes, please, good lord,” Doc Ragnarok said. “Nobody’s called me Melvin since my mother passed.”
“Got it. So, uh, other than supervillaining, what do you like to do?”
“Not a lot, honestly,” Doc said. “That’s the problem with loving what you do, it kind of makes it seem like you don’t have hobbies. I’m either doing supervillainy, or planning supervillainy, or writing about supervillainy, you get it.”
“Well, your book was great,” Vell said.
“Oh, thank you,” Doc said. “Actually, come to think of it, I’ve been meaning to do a collaborative work, really exploring the hero/villain dynamic from both sides of the aisle. Would you be interested in providing some notes?”
“I’m not exactly a traditional ‘hero’, but I could give some soundbites, yeah.”
Doc Ragnarok pulled out a tablet and started taking some notes on Vell’s antics. Skye watched from the sidelines with a smile on her face that was only occasionally interrupted by Vell describing how to properly execute a chokehold on a yeti.

Hello Redditors!
This is my first post here on Reddit. I am actually confused and would really love some help from you guys.
I have worked as a writer for 5+ years. Although I have had only one in-office job with a brand. Now, I have applied for the position of senior copywriter and am unsure how much to quote.
My last drawn salary was 6. I have worked with big brands but this is my first agency job.
Hence, I am here for guidance.
This is in India btw.
Thank you. Any help would be appreciated.

The objective of this article is to explain, from a corporate point of view, the current situation of the Nijisanji company, as well as its evolution in the immediate future. This is strictly from a business, stock market and personnel management approach.

The business model.
Many identify that the company's success was due to the incorporation of facial tracking to incorporate it into a 2D avatar, much cheaper than a 3D model. Now a large investment was not needed to have a talent streaming. So, by being one of the first to apply it, it naturally became the leader. Then it became a talent management agency that revolutionized the world of entertainment... but is this so?
Yes and no.
The use of facial tracking, a central key to its success, has also enabled more than 16,000 vtubers to emerge by 2023. And the Japanese market, where it is most widespread, is already saturated.
This is something to think about.
The key to the company's success is the same technology that has enabled thousands of competitors. So, to stay on top, you must keep innovating constantly.
But, Nijisanji has not innovated on the technology front in years, nor does he have any plans to do so. In his reports he only focuses on what he already is and the diversity of his talents. Dozens of them to see which is the next successful one. 177 by some numbers. It is not a leading company; it is just the largest. In the last report it mentions a studio, but does not indicate any capacity and advertises an ASMR microphone as something extraordinary. It is a common thing in Nijisanji, it does not mention details when it is not convenient or simply lies, as in the retention rate of its employees.
There is also a marked difference in the management of the company. The time before the company's shares were listed on the stock market and the time after. In the previous era, there was more sustainable development, ideas were allowed. However, by allowing in huge amounts of capital they also acquired new responsibilities towards investors, leaving everything else aside.
On the other hand, it is a company that rents franchises. It is incorrect to classify it as a talent agency. The talents (which I refer to by the personal qualities of each of them, not by the business model) are provided with the logo, the space under the company name and the 2D model, of which they never have the rights. They do not receive a salary, they only earn a percentage of the profits generated, the rest goes to rent for everything else that is provided to them. The talents are forced to follow the strict orders and whims of the corporate. That the talents themselves must worry about their taxes is a clear example of this model.
So why is it so Big?
Very simple. They were pioneers, and lucky, very lucky.
It was a company that innovated with the use of technology and knew how to capitalize on it. And let's not forget that an immense growth was thanks to a worldwide phenomenon such as quarantine. In addition, we should mention that its competitors suffered quite a lot of controversy.
In this respect, we must imagine a scenario: If the competing companies had not had these controversies, would Nijisanji be in the position it is in now?
But this clear path is also the key to their woes. It allowed them to grow so fast that in the boom of their early years there was no restructuring, no organic growth within the company. Nor was there any necessary adaptation of procedures.
They stagnated in that first phase, both structurally and in the management of their personnel. Their quarterly reports also show this. It is a limited number of personnel for the responsibility that is handled. The total number of personnel that attends to the talents, also called managers, are even derisory for the number of people that make up the company. And the amount of monetary resources allocated to the personnel management part is worrisome. Let's remember that these managers monitor talent. If a manager is overworked with more talent than he can monitor and attend to their requests, then we fall into poor quality control.
And the worst thing is that the right people were not hired at that time of accelerated growth. And we cannot blame them. Years ago, when all this was going on, there were not as many people who had worked with Vtubers.
In fact, the strict control structure over talent is more akin to that of Idol agency managers, with the evils that are attributed to this industry, such as favoritism, strict control and stress. So, it would not be wrong to assume that they hired people from that part of the industry (plus a few others who surely came from situations completely unrelated to the training world) who imposed the only kind of management they knew. And they have not learned any new tricks since that time.
They currently have, or still appear to have, a talent academy, which is necessary for their business model, which is saturation. The more talent, the more revenue. Let's remember that they are franchises, so no matter how small the amount that franchise provides, it is profit.
But, since then, what have they done?
Well, the successful VirtuaReal branch in the Chinese market, with the same approach of saturating the market with diverse talents at a low cost, however, this branch has its own administration and even its own studio with 3D technology. But we must consider that this is a joint project with Bilibili, headquartered in China and run with its own management. The operations are so separate that in recent weeks some Nijisanji talents have tried their luck broadcasting at Bilibili. Had they been considered sister branches, then some of VirtuaReal's many talents would have been present to boost those efforts. However, the Nijisanji talents were on their own.
If Nijisanji absorbs some of the profits from this business, which is very likely, it would explain the solvency within the company. But because they are so far apart there is a constant risk of that branch becoming independent. Does VirtuaReal really need Nijisanji? Apparently not.
But Nijisanji has done things on its own... unsuccessfully.
In the local market its strategy has been, as I have already mentioned, that of saturation. Remember, franchise business. Having 127 talents saturating the local market without any innovation still represents profits for the company. But this scheme will always have constraints. The fragile ecosystem of supply and demand will sooner or later collapse, as every local market has its own limitations. But again, we see the contradiction, since in its latest quarterly results report it indicates that the oldest talents are the ones who earn the most, while entire generations of the most recent talents do not give a large percentage of the earnings. At the time of publishing the quarterly report, it states that out of 156 Vtubers, only 26 to 30 are the ones who give 50% of the total accumulated income. Of the remaining 70 give the next 30%, and the other 56 give the missing 20%. Curious detail, the graph does not show the remaining 56, as if they wanted to hide these numbers.
Individually, their expansion efforts have been a failure, either by demonstrating a lack of knowledge of both the foreign market or of managing personnel outside your borders. You cannot impose the same work culture on people who have never had contact with anything similar and expect the best results. In some leaked cases it has even been reported that contacts and managers did not speak the local language of the market where they were seeking to expand.
This is revealing as it shows a pattern of behavior. As long as the expanding branches have their own control, they stay afloat and show growth. But as soon as the central corporate takes over, they slowly disappear.
If you look at it closely, Nijisanji in its expansion policy has been cutting costs permanently for years. Always.
Now we also know that they cut costs by hiring personnel with little experience and the minimum wage allowed. They give pittance commissions to their talents for the various revenues, be it advertising, merchandise and so on. This cost cutting has resulted in the absorption of expanding branches and a decline in quality control, both externally and internally.
First, they absorbed IN. Then it was KR's turn. Even after it went on the stock market and thanks to the price the shares obtained, causing the company's CEO Riku Tazumi to be named as Japan's youngest billionaire and an example of entrepreneurship, they dissolved the ID branch. And the absorption of these talents is almost a sentence for the development of these franchises. As an example, are the absorbed talents of the KR branch, which have no support whatsoever.
And the EN branch will apparently follow the same fate. The actions they have taken with this branch are more like those of a chain that knows it is going to close that store and is finishing off the inventory in the warehouse before transferring the remaining inventory to another store. The fact that they are releasing projects that had been on hold, but with deplorable quality, is only to justify what they have invested in them. Clearance sale, to put it another way.
The company has no strategy to attract new fans. Nor of recovering the ones it has lost. So, it is better to disappear the EN branch and absorb the talents in the JP branch, because it will look better to say to say that it is a company with an international presence with more than 177 talents and present reports as a whole of everything, than to give the miserable results they have obtained in the EN branch and show that as a company all expansion efforts alone have resulted in failure.
And, in fact, cost reduction has also affected the main source of income, which is the sale of merchandise. Numerous cases of defective or even poor-quality merchandise have been reported. This is important. It is reducing the amount of resources assigned to the area, which lowers the quality of its main source of income, and consequently, the income received will also decrease, as has also been demonstrated in the EN branch.

The personnel management model
First, the talents are under a very extensive bureaucratic scheme and strict control of the worker. Not only that, but because of the leaks that the talents and ex-talents have given, it is a scheme of oppression and demoralization with clear favoritism.
The model of oppression, micromanagement and demoralization of workers has existed for a long time. There are books, methodologies, conferences and others with the aim of perfecting this type of model and how to implement it. Because it must be implemented by people with experience, so that it is a model with monitoring, parameters and corrections to improve productivity and costs. If it is just by a horde of people with delusions of power, this becomes meaningless and directionless abuse because of how poorly it is executed.
Unethical? Definitely. Success for the company? Absolutely. Is it kept within the limits of legality? Therein lies the fine art of managing black companies.
But not every company can implement it. Not all environments are the conducive environment.
Make no mistake. This scheme is very successful for several franchises... if you are in the business of selling hamburgers.
But there is a big difference:
A Vtuber, they are mostly creative talents. And creative talent seriously succumbs to a stressful environment. You can call them idols, singers, players. But they are creative talents.
There is no way to manage workers whose success depends on their creativity in this scheme. Chronic stress is one of the biggest enemies of this type of employee. However, this method of personnel management has remained within the company.
Additionally, the contract clauses are some of the worst I have seen in many years of advising companies. That, in the opinion of a company manager, half of the worker's profits can be taken away from the worker does not make sense. Lifetime clauses? It is like a slavery contract that would definitely not pass legal scrutiny as demonstrated by the videos that a certain mind produced.
The artists and commissions handled by the company are high cost and limited resources, without taking into consideration that, if external artists from the same company are used, this huge conglomerate will take a long time to pay, if at all.
This results in talents living under constant pressure. Even if they were workers in another industry, this would be a very bad thing for any type of production, manufacturing, development, etc. But for workers whose creativity is at the center of their success, it is unthinkable. It's something this company exudes. A complete lack of knowledge of both the people they work with and the market in which they operate.
Let's put it with an example; Let's imagine a talent who despite everything has a good idea. He/she must fund that idea and promote it on his/her own. By not having a salary, the talent can incur some debts and owe favors. The idea turns out to be very good and the stream is a success. But in the midst of the euphoria and everything else, he/she receives a notification from upper management where they believe that he/she has broken a rule and that for this reason he/she will only receive a fraction of the reward that he/she has worked for weeks, months or years. They have killed the initiative and creativity of that talent. He/she will never try it again. And the projects will disappear, and those that arise will be simple and risk-free.
What if the talent also finds itself in the situation of not receiving adequate support?
Because that's right, there are talents that receive preferential treatment. They are not all, they are a minority. Others are barely supported, if at all.
This is not bad in the first instance; it is a corporate development strategy. Not all products will have the same boost. Even more so if within the company there is bureaucratic hell and cost and budget cutting. It is unethical if your products are people with extraordinary talents.
What are the criteria for a talent to access this select group? Is it because he or she had a previous friendship? Is it because he or she became someone's lover? Is it because he or she is related to an executive? Each person's assumption is as right or wrong as anyone else's. But generally speaking, the principle of Ockham's razor is always correct.
The fact is that this preferential treatment exists and affects everyone. Both those who receive it and those who do not.
Those who receive it become arrogant and lose quality. There is no need to make an effort. They will make worse and worse mistakes as they do not receive correction.
Those who do not receive it will go into depression and other dangerous states affecting their mental health and performance. No matter what their initiative, they will not be supported. They become vulnerable.
But then why does Nijisanji keep recruiting in the JP and EN branches if it is not going to support the new talents?
Again, the answer is simple.
Let's remember that Nijisanji has auditions where the best among all the candidates are selected. Full of skills, full of illusions, without legal knowledge and exploitable. Any of these talents could go far with the right support. I repeat; Any of the talents that are selected could go far with the right support. They are the best among hundreds or thousands, depending on the call. And in the hands of competition that is dangerous. So, it is better to recruit them. Hopefully that talent will lose their love for being a Vtuber and by the time they graduate some potential competitor will have been eliminated. Remember that the contracts offered by Nijisanji are for long periods and contrary to what one of the talents in the black screen video says, they cannot graduate early. They will forget that they were selected because they were the best. That is why many of the talents and graduates share this type of thinking. It is imposed on them.
In the meantime, of the little or much revenue it may have generated, a substantial part goes to the company. The cost of the 2D model is recovered and any additional profit is completely acceptable.
This is common in any industry with a highly competitive environment. The search for and acquisition of bright workers who could pose a danger to the growth of our business. It is better to have them under our shadow than to see them shine for someone else, corporately speaking.
In the EN branch this is painfully obvious, as there are talents who have never received support.
And on JP's part, the million talents is the best example. She took the world by surprise. Media outside of Vtuber referred to her. If she had received the right support, she would have undoubtedly become the most popular Vtuber in the world. Perhaps because two-thirds of their income comes from the female audience, they did not want to give her a boost. But the reality is that they missed a great opportunity. As always in Nijisanji, something happened. Groups or people in key positions were not satisfied. She has support, but not enough. But not at the level it should have been. And this is money the company does not make every quarter.

The graduation/dismissal situation
This has been discussed and analyzed by many people. We can talk about unprofessionalism and lack of knowledge of the people who make up their target market, as well as the fact that there are poorly trained staff at key points within the company.
However, there is one very important situation to highlight, and that is the company's lack of apprenticeship.
Throughout 2023 we witnessed a series of similar layoffs that literally wiped out the business of the Vtuber companies that carried them out. They should have learned from those situations and be grateful that they did not have the same results on March 10, 2023 when they carried out the first dismissal with the same characteristics. They didn't learn. They did the same.
The company has been characterized by doing things in a hidden way. We know of suspensions disguised as vacations, of disciplinary measures that are not communicated to the media, of coercion to companies and organizations for the non-inclusion of people adverse to the company and we do not even know what has been happening with some of their talent JP for months or years.
Corporate point of view; This was because it was a personnel management tactic.
This was a message to all talents, not just those affected.
With the dismissal on March 10, 2023, they did incredibly well. Let's analyze. This talent grew excessively, but it did not submit to the power structure within the company. It turns out that the reasons given as faults have also been done by other talents. So those statements only listed the excuses. Not only were they trying to end the career of one of their now-former female talent, but in the eyes of the company they had to end that former talent's career to send a loud and clear warning to everyone else. This could happen to them.
It is also part of the manipulation that has been done to talents. In addition to destroying their self-esteem through repression and creating the illusion that they are nothing without the company, they were now also shown what would happen if they left the company the hard way.
It is no coincidence that specific flaws are mentioned that are also applicable to his other most popular talents. Clear and forceful message. You are still here because the company allows it. You are still here because the higher-ups want you to be. If you don't comply with the whims, your career is ruined.
Evidently, the dismissal of the second former talent on February 5, 2024 backfired.
Furthermore, we must show the irony of the situation. A multi-national, multi-million dollar company, the largest in its field, plus the anonymous hordes of social media attacked with the intention of destroying the careers and perhaps even the lives of two of its once most successful talents. We must remember that the former talents were going through very delicate situations regarding their mental health, and yet this conglomerate did everything possible to bring them down. With a completely adverse result. Those talents faced the thousand-headed monster and survived.
And all of this could have been avoided. If the pride of those power groups or executives in key positions had been less. If they had not been evil and arrogant, this mistake that cost hundreds of millions of dollars could have been avoided.

The response
One of the most deplorable aspects of the situation was what followed. This company's response has been a series of errors that have demonstrated both a lack of foresight and a lack of learning. And the inability of its administrative part in the face of adversity.
In what kind of mind is it a good idea to expose your most popular talents to make the black screen video? This could have been done by other talents. There is a video on Youtube where a chair does what I thought was a great analysis of the intent behind this video, but it makes no business sense. That this has been authorized at different levels speaks of total incompetence. Either because no one had the idea that this could go wrong, or because someone raised the fear that it could happen and higher-ups simply dismissed the idea.
They could have used other talents. Talents with a smaller audience and measure the effect. And once they have tested the reaction, reinforce the narrative with some other talent. Protect the business. Protect the investment. Protect the millions that investors have trusted in the company. But with this measure the only thing that can be seen is that incompetent people were protecting themselves by doing everything possible. Let the company burn, but they will be protected. This type of behavior is very common within Nijisanji.
Additionally, there were several attempts to change the narrative by different characters. Whether these characters acted independently or were paid by the company, we will not know. But they did not realize it was too soon. The public was angry and overwhelmed. The only thing it achieved was that the problem was publicized outside the scope of Vtuber. And this would affect the attraction of new fans. Fans interested in Vtuber would have this bad perception of the company. And the Vtuber market is based on empathy for talent.
And here we come to the most obvious situation of all:
The negligible.
Many people have made fun of this situation, but they have not really seen in detail the true intention of this action. However, if we read the times and put them together with the movement of the stock market shares, everything becomes clearer.
Why was this?
Time. Valuable time for a very small number of people with a specific purpose.
On Monday, February 5, 2024, the dismissal of the now former talent was announced at 7:57 p.m. Tokyo time. The Tokyo Stock Exchange had already closed and Nijisanji had reached 3,820 yen per share. A day of rising value, since the previous day, Friday, February 2, they had closed at 3,750 yen per unit. They obviously expected things to remain the same as a year ago, on March 10, 2023, when they made a similar maneuver. With a little luck, maybe even the stock would rise like it did that time.
However, things were not the same. There were people defending the now former talent. The accusations were proven false. They were not prepared for this.
On February 6, the stock was at 3,615 yen per unit. It has lost 5.37% of its value. The projections do not look good. This is going to affect the money of people who should not be affected. We are not talking about those who have bought 1000 or 10000 shares. We are talking about the heavyweights, the big investors. Those who have such a large amount of shares that it is not possible to move them in one day. They are informed that the projections are pessimistic. They demand time. These people are the ones who do corporate favors, the ones who maintain the information siege in Japan. If they ask for time, it is an obligation to get it.
Thus, on February 7, with the share price at 3,380 per unit, that is, 6.15% less than the previous day, the answer comes. The 'Negligible' statement. An English-language statement with little explanation and a rarely used word aimed at a majority of Japanese-speaking investors. Remember, this statement is designed for large investors to mobilize their shares. Let the cost of losses be focused on the common investor.
And works. From Wednesday, February 7 to Friday, February 9, it only dropped from 3,380 yen to 3,330 yen per unit. It only lost 1.31% of its original value. But it was the precious time required. Big investors were safe. Favors are repaid with favors.
February 12 was a public holiday in Japan, so shares were not trading, but that did not stop CEO Riku from issuing a statement apologizing for the misunderstandings. Not because of losses. Not because of poor personnel management. Misunderstandings. On February 15, the shares reached 3,082 yen per unit, a drop of 19.32%. No problem. Large investors are protected. It is very likely that the CEO himself sold a large portion of his shares before the losses and then bought them back at a lower price to force the share price up after the chaos.
Many have seen it as an apology to investors, but nothing like that. Once again, the statement is spoken in English and without Japanese subtitles, and on the Nijisanji EN channel. This was a desperate attempt to appease the masses by trying to control the narrative with misunderstandings while the CEO tried to wash his hands of it.
And it should be noted, the improvement actions indicated by the CEO in the video have not been officially announced until the date of this report. And the support it promises does not exist either. Only so far do we know that two months after this announcement, starting on April 12, a 'Whistblowers' committee was formed... however, the purpose of this is unclear as it was leaked in a document. It could well be to denounce injustices within the company, or it could be for talents to snitch on each other.
The normal investor has lost 19.32% of his money. And we are talking about a multi-million dollar company that translates into a total loss of hundreds of millions of dollars lost. Where is the announcement of the dismissal of the person responsible? Who was the head of HR and PR that allowed this to happen and is now out of the company? When were the managers who allowed this to get this far fired?
So, to summarize. The company makes a media circus listing the errors when an employee violates its internal rules, but there is nothing similar against the responsible administrative staff who made hundreds of millions of dollars disappear?
It is obvious that in this scenario a conscientious investor should think twice before risking his money in this company.

Post-crisis actions
The company has sacrificed its most popular talents in a senseless action. Other talents have taken pride in breaking the rules that Nijisanji mentions in his communications without consequences, confirming favoritism. Furthermore, the company has demonstrated that the company's values ​​and rules are applicable at will, causing fear in investors. Nijisanji has proven the allegations of workplace harassment to be true with every step. In the dismissal statement, the company practically confessed its sins twice.
So, what happened?
Nothing. No contingency plan. It is like all the senior managers are terrified of doing anything. Or groups with favoritism are afraid of losing their position and do not allow these plans. Whether by mistake or by whim, both causes are very serious and involve million-dollar losses.
Here it once again demonstrates a terrible cancer in the internal structure of the company. Nobody did anything, as if the EN branch did not matter anymore. Many people may have had good ideas, but the bureaucracy ruled and no one did anything.
Talent unrelated to the controversy could have been encouraged. Mega collaborations could have been created with the talents that were perceived as the “good” ones. At least a dozen talents were unrelated to the situation. Unleash those talents and when it is all over, you will not only have the usual favorites, but you will probably have six or seven other "greats".
Nijisanji has two new generations of excellent talents in EN. Almost criminally abandoned. The almost is mentioned because it must be considered that these talents do not receive a salary and their income is based on the success of their streams. But just because it's not criminal doesn't mean it's not cruel.
To give another example, YouTube subscriber celebration badges. As soon as the rumor spread that the talents did not have the badges, it was not because of the importance of the badges, but because it supported the idea of ​​an abusive work environment. A simple response was to send the badges via express mail to the respective talents and, in less than three days, have a massive barrage of Twittex messages with images showing the badges in their possession. It could even have been an excellent advertising campaign by infusing the photographs with humor. The talents displaying them competed to come up with the most ingenious, while “debunking” the accusations.
Instead, weeks later only a, and I quote, ‘we could just fucking ask’ from a talent who no doubt tried to do his part, but without proper advice it only resulted in words that were again belied by the facts. There must have been an attentive manager monitoring his stream to stop this. But that is not all. That talent has now been rewarded with a merchandise collaboration. So, it is not bad when you put the company in danger, when you make a dangerous PR move that could have cost millions again. It only matters that you have pleased the right group. In the meantime, let the investors live in fear. By the way, the VOD of that stream has been made private and unavailable to the general public.
There is also the issue of concerts involving the EN branch. These were great opportunities to improve the company's shattered image. And in a simple way. Extremely affordable ticket prices, with the intention that the venues would be full. Then fill the networks with posts of these packed halls. Meet and greet with free costs. Hundreds of videos of fans hanging out and laughing with their favorite talents. Maybe there would be monetary losses, but it would be great publicity. But paying for advertising and public relations seems to be a concept that Nijisanji is not familiar with.
However, the cost of concert tickets was almost prohibitive and the quality was deplorable. The result? That its failure was even shown on social networks in Japan, affecting its main branch.
And these are not unique examples. There have been several. Too many.

Future
Here the actions the company is taking are very clear. Trying to control the narrative. Both what happened and what is going to happen.
Information control and legal punishments have increased both externally and internally.
The executives must have created an environment of terror with extreme control over talent. They are afraid of talent, especially those who are outside the group with favoritism, since they know they have reasons and now the power to make the company lose another hundreds of millions of dollars. Even among the group with favoritism they should view each other with suspicion. They should know that only the first to jump ship will have the best chance of regenerating their careers.
But let's remember the main objective; to build confidence in the Japanese market ahead of the release of the next quarterly report.
The image of the company is deplorable in different countries, the scandal has gone beyond the scope and usual audience of VTuber.
But in Japan the situation is different. They have used a very effective strategy in the past and plan to do so again.
They had a setback when they released their March quarterly report on the 14th and 15th with a loss in value per share from 3,140 yen to 2,451 yen. A loss of 21.94%. It was not higher because Japanese investment regulations do not allow a company to lose more than a certain amount of value per day before triggering a hedge that prevents the stock from moving.
But we must also analyze this with a more experienced analysis of the stock market. More specifically, from 10 days before the disaster.
On March 5, the stock price was 3,095 yen per unit. The company knows the quarterly report will be disastrous, but hopes that Japanese stock market regulation will stop what could be huge losses. Large investors are warned that they must put a contingency plan in place. They start buying shares to inflate the price. Throughout this week, from March 5 to 12, this massive purchase is made, managing to increase the price to 3,345 yen per unit. An increase of 8.08%.
But they cannot do it alone. For weeks now, information has been manipulated to the extent possible by the digital media associated with Nijisanji. They say everything is fine. That the company is growing. Which is a good investment. Furthermore, different reporters from different financial platforms are paid to publish good articles about Nijisanji. News websites that have an interest in Nijisanji do as well. If that wasn't enough, trading platforms are paid to have Nijisanji stock appear as opportunities on home screens. Nobody can be classified as a liar, there is the stock rising in price.
And on March 13, the massive sale of shares by large investors begins. There are already people willing to buy it. It is ordinary investors who have trusted the reviews. They are the investors who saw the opportunity in their stock market application. They are the occasional investors who do not study it in depth. The shares put up for sale by large investors are not only those acquired since March 5, but also a large part of their usual percentages, which causes the shares to fall by 6.13 between March 13 and 14 % up to 3,140 yen per unit. It doesn't matter, big investors bought them 2% cheaper.
And March 15 arrives. It is Friday. The quarterly report is out. It's not what the analysts said. It is not promoted by the forums. It is not the company that so many people had sold as a great opportunity. Regulation of the Japanese stock market is activated, preventing the stock from falling into the abyss. On the morning of Monday, March 18, the stock had lost 21.94% of its value, reaching 2,451 yen per unit. This is 26.73% less than March 12. For the average investor this is a terrible thing. They have spent the entire weekend watching their money disappear without being able to do anything about it. Ordinary people have absorbed losses of hundreds of millions of dollars and are desperate. But this is what the CEO and big investors expect. Now that the stock is cheaper, in fact, they can buy 26.73% more than they initially sold.
The strategy is a success. Thanks to the massive purchase, they manage to raise the cost of the shares by 10.16%, reaching a price of 2,700 yen per unit in just three days, from March 18 to 21. March 20 was a holiday.
Many may argue that inside trading is illegal. Without a doubt, but it is increasingly difficult to prove it. Furthermore, when it comes to pull and dump, few markets consider it illegal.
And for the future report it will be the same. They are reinforcing the walls of information. They must do it. They should minimize capital outflows and continue to pretend that everything is fine, especially in the JP area. Let us remember that these losses of hundreds of millions of dollars are not absorbed by large investors, but by ordinary investors. Some within Nijisanji, as well as some digital media in Japan, are trying to control information to the best of their ability. Take legal action against those you consider to be against you. They pay for advertisements indicating that the company is the best option. Minimize the inevitable again.
It is illogical that there are articles and recommendations that ANYCOLOR is a good investment. Even an economics student could say that the price of their shares has not fallen only because of the economic crisis in Japan, but because of two specific moments. The controversy over layoffs and the results shown in the previous quarter. So, applying a little logic; What will be the performance of the next quarterly report if because of these two situations it will show the loss of 40% of the company's value?
And it should not surprise us. The way they treat their talent is the same way they treat their investors. With favoritism for some specific groups. But the company cannot exist because of the favors received. And paying for these favors is increasingly costly, whether monetarily or due to other darker circumstances. Sooner or later, they won't be able to ask for more.
They will soon have to learn to behave as competitors of other companies, since no one will take them for the leaders they think they are. It will be difficult to regain the trust of both the public and investors. Many of these preferred investors will withdraw their money, as it is not worth investing in a company that is in decline. This Black Company reputation will be very difficult for them to eradicate, even becoming a commercial danger for any level of association.
If the company does not change its strategies, it will be remembered along with Blockbuster and Kodak. Huge companies whose lack of vision and adaptability condemned them to ruin and subsequent oblivion.


Additional information.
This report has not used any rumors for its preparation. All data presented are fully verifiable.
This document was translated into two different languages ​​before being returned to English with the intention of making the writing style unrecognizable. If there are grammatical errors, I apologize for them.