Log cabin skin siding

of anchors, some had a tattoo of a cross and below it either a rainbow or bird wing, I was trying not to stare. They also all had long Amish looking dresses and white bonnets on. This was very confusing though, because I saw these people at silver dollar city in Branson MO. If you haven't been to Silver Dollar City just imagine six flags as a 'religious old timey western.' All the employees dress in old timey clothing and sometimes they break out into a skit or song randomly. Pretty much all the buildings are little Log cabins and they have shops like 'Miss Alma May's homade fresh cinnamon bread.' So these people could have been there as a job, but we followed them onto a ride. They definitely did seem like they were patrons of the park and not employees. They have alot of little playhouses where they put old shows and concert, mostly made up of the employees that wear these 'Amish' dresses, so they may have participated in a show. The Tattoos were what made me do a double take. So has anyone ever heard or seen anyone like this, or knows what the meaning of the tats are? All on the right shoulder, mostly anchors, but some had a cross with something resembling a bird wing underneath, or a rainbow.

I think sometimes if I had formative experiences that let me not be fearful avoidant of people, and if I had been encouraged as a kid towards of stable career path/job skill, and therefore if I had always been financially secure, then I would have always been in relationships with women. I become angry thinking if I had never grown up in a religious environment I would have realized sooner. There is so much baggage for me now surrounding injustice to women in a way that I don't totally understand or have the words for yet.
I think when I was younger I had sex with men imagining I was fulfilling the role of a "good woman" and feeling proud of myself for that, while not enjoying the sex or the people themselves. I currently am somewhat in a relationship with a feminine man who has helped me know men are humans and can be good humans who are open to being corrected because they truly don't want to cause harm to others. He listens to my boundaries when I say them (though they also have made him sad), but I still have a really hard time knowing and respecting my boundaries. We call each other friends but we also sleep in the same bed together and have sex. During sex I often think if only you were a woman. I could touch you in the ways I wish to touch a woman. I keep on thinking, even though I wish he were a woman, I am appreciative of practicing healthy relationship skills with him and our friendship. I know he's not fulfilled either but both of us are learning and growing and "doing life together" as survival (we met while both suicidal and have genuinely helped one another); as awkward as it can be to have undefined relationship roles, I'm grateful to have his support during this time of my life and to learn how to be a better friend, communicator, etc through him. There are so many mental health issues I'm struggling with and financial instability, that I kind of have to order my problems from most to least pressing. I'm focusing on learning how to develop a healthy relationship to myself and the world (a new perspective outside of shame).
He supports me financially and takes that stress off me partly because I am a source of emotionally safe sex and affection. My employment is spotty and I'm working on building potential careers on the side. While I have a lot to be grateful for, if I had stable finances and a bearable long term career in place, I would be platonic best friends with him and in a romantic and sexual relationship with a woman.
A part of my long term healing process is feeling safe in my own skin and able to navigate the world and connect genuinely and meaningfully with people based on my won self knowledge and self acceptance. I was thinking that to accept myself is to accept "life" itself, its so imperfect and painful but there is always gratitude, joy and medicine that can be focused on so that pride and quiet, simply joy and calm can be dominant. Fear of life and fear of "my bad parts" makes me not want to accept or affirm any of these things as being good and worthwhile.
Anyway, I have to accept myself and life itself and "higher powers" and come to terms with identifying and learning about systemic forces that cause people pain that we then blame ourselves for and feel shame about, so that I can feel mental clarity and throw my hat into the ring as knowing who I am, what i stand for, and what lifestyle I want to live, within the framework of understanding myself as a member of a larger society and just member of humanity. Then knowing this will translate to me being able to have a stable career, because I will feel secure to relate to people with honesty and support of my own self and therefore not always be leaving jobs out of avoidance of people, or leaving jobs because I don't understand my talents and what I'm capable of and how to earn a living in a sustainable not exhausting painful way.
I just needed to write out the truth somewhere outside myself. Thanks for reading.

Hi all,
Historically I've been VERY fair, with good matches from Rose Inc LX010, or Salt New York N13. However, in the last year or so my face specifically has gotten a little darker and I find if I try to match it to my neck, it just winds up looking a weird way I don't like. I'm finding my face looks much more natural if I use a darker shade and then blend it gradually into a lighter one that matches my neck.
The problem though is I've been having a HECK of a time finding something that's the right depth because I'm so used to everything being too dark for me that my eye/intuition always errs on the side of lighter! But I recently picked up Salt New York's new concealer in my OG shade (N13) and also N12, just for fun. Turns out N12 is a pretty excellent match for my face right now, and I've been using it as my foundation as I like the coverage level a bit more than the Sneaky Balm. However, I don't always want to use an oil-based balm product which can feel a bit heavy especially in summer, even though my skin is dry right now.
SO! For anyone who also matches SNY N12, what else works well for you as a base product (preferably without mixing)? Primarily looking for foundation but I often use concealer as foundation so either is fine honestly. For reference, I've also been getting pretty good matches from Nyx Bare With Me Serum Concealer in Light mixed with LA Girl's green concealer, and Tarte Shape Tape in 12S has also been not bad although it's a bit too thick/matte for me right now since I'm on Accutane. Nars Light Reflecting in Gobi is either a hair too dark or much too saturated or both, I'm not totally sure.
Ay suggestions much appreciated! Thanks!

That’s all it was. A game.
Something my friends and I used to play during the summer when we had nothing better to do. I never expected that it would get so out of hand.
I never expected it to come back long after recovery.
To anyone reading, please don’t do what I did.
I’m putting this out there to warn people.
On that warm summer evening, we played the role of Pandora.
Except, the monsters we released were far worse than what’s told in stories.
Because stories end.
And this doesn’t.
I still remember the date. July 16, 2013. I was an upcoming senior in high school while the others were getting prepared for their freshman year of college, raving on about their majors, life plans, dorms, you get the point. The summer had been bittersweet as those months would be the last I’d see them for a while. Because of this, Anthony, Lola, Eliza, and I would spend the bulk of our time together going to festivals and various camping trips, trying to make the most out of the summer while we could. On that day, the day I wish I could forget, Eliza had run late to one of our hangouts at my place. This was odd since as an Ivy league student, she was usually early or right on time to these kind of things. Half past three, we heard her knocking on my door rapidly, which was also out of character considering that she was usually the calm one in our group. A bit worried, I hurried down the stairs with Anthony and Lola following close behind, expecting Eliza to be in hysterics due to her frantic behavior. When I opened the door, however, there she was with a bright smile on her face, her red hair getting in the way of her eyes, which were a dark green shade. She pushed her hair out of her face with one hand and held a brown box in the other, and she was bouncing up and down as she usually does when she’s about to talk about something exciting.
“You’ll never believe what I found.” Eliza’s voice could barely hold her impatience as she stepped inside and kicked her shoes off once she crossed over my threshold.
“What’s up with you today?” Anthony questioned, looking more confused than concerned now.
“I’ll show you guys in a minute. Can we go up to your room, Felix?” Eliza looked over at me with her trademark smile, knowing damn well we were all too curious to just leave that box unopened. Without a word, I led the group up to my room and shut the door after everyone had walked in. Anthony took his usual spot on my beanbag and unzipped his hoodie, which had the MSM logo sprawled across the front in big red letters. He adjusted his dark rimmed glasses and took on his usual stoic expression. Lola wore a dark blue FIT shirt, which she revealed more of when she moved her locs over her shoulder as she sat on my desk chair and wheeled over to us. As she did, the various necklaces she wore clinked against each other. Eliza herself was the smartest out of the group, and probably in the whole school as well. She had gotten accepted into multiple prestigious schools, but ultimately settled for Harvard to pursue a degree in some obscure philanthropic career. Unlike Anthony and Lola, Eliza wore her regular outfit –usually a white tank top and jeans– and sat on my bed with the box in her lap. I took a seat next to her to get a closer look.
“So what’d you find?” The others moved closer.
“Something we probably haven’t thought about for a really long time. Do you guys remember that one game we used to play in middle school? The one we made after Felix joined our class?” Eliza looked at our puzzled faces to see if we had connected the dots, but her clue didn’t seem to strike any of us with familiarity.
“After Felix joined? Didn’t we just hang out or something that weekend?” Anthony questioned.
“We did, but there was something else,” Eliza raised an eyebrow, “you guys seriously don’t remember?”
At that moment, I saw Lola’s eyes light up and a thin smile grew on her lips, something she always did whenever she was able to figure something out.
“You mean that little map game we played? Where we would go out to the woods and explore?”
Both Anthony and I seemed to have remembered as well with the mention of a ‘map game.’ I chimed in, “ yeah I remember! Every once in a while when we were all bored, we’d pick a random spot on a map to go to and explore there for a bit, right? When did we stop doing that anyways? I remember really enjoying it.”
“Well life happens,” Eliza responded to me, “but I was thinking of things to do for the rest of the summer when I suddenly remembered that game! That’s why I was so late for our meetup today, I was looking through my attic for this.” Eliza shook the box slightly and a couple things clattered around inside.
“There’s no way.” Anthony sounded like he was in disbelief.
“You mean…?” Lola sat forward in the chair. Eliza smirked, her adventurous nature creeping out as realization swept over us like a wave.
“Mhm! I found the map we used to use as well as the things we collected from our little escapades.” With that, Eliza opened the box, revealing a folded piece of paper and various trinkets scattered over the bottom of the capsule. Lola squealed with excitement and immediately snatched the box from Eliza, who simply chuckled and leaned back on the bed.
“No way! Everything’s still in here!” Lola digged through the box and placed whatever objects she found across the blanket. Anthony got up and sat at the foot of my bed, to observe our findings more closely. There was a piece of some clay pottery, some rusty springs and scraps of metal, an old digital camera, and some other random stuff I can’t recall to memory right now. Anthony picked up a spring and turned it in his palm.
“Shit man, this is from that abandoned junkyard we found in 8th grade…that feels like such a long time ago now.”
I examined the piece of pottery with Eliza looking over my shoulder. Lola picked up the digital camera.
“Do you remember where this came from?” I turned to Eliza and held up my discovery.
“No clue,” she shrugged. It must have been a while ago if even she didn’t remember. I turned the piece over and grew curious when I saw weird symbols inscribed on the inside of it. I squinted a bit, trying to discern some sort of pattern within the scribbles.
I turned to Eliza again, “hey, what do you think-”
“OH MY GOD GUYS IT STILL WORKS!” Lola’s voice went up a whole octave as she motioned to us.
The rest of us looked up as she turned the camera to face us. There were various photos we went through. All of us at lakes, museums, exploring the woods; everything we did from 7th grade until my freshman year seemed to be documented. The last photo was arguable the best and msot bittersweet. It was a picture of the whole group from a while ago. We were sitting at Eliza’s dinner table with a giant chocolate cake on the middle of it adorned with two candles shaped like the numbers one and five. Eliza was talking to me in the photo. Her hair was even more red at the time and she wore it in a braid. I looked about the same in the photo as I did then, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles scattered all over my body and face. I was smiling sheepishly at Eliza. I now knew why Anthony said it was obvious I had a crush on her in 8th grade. Lola went through the most changes out of all of us. At the time in the photo, she had her hair straightened and side-swept, with a bright pink streak in her bangs. She wore clunky jewlery and a frilly skirt underneath a long tank top, leaning over the table to cut another slice of cake. All of us had birthday hats on except for Anthony, who kept his sitting on the table. He held up a peace sign staring straight into the camera with a stoic expression. He looked like a statue compared to the rest of us, who were laughing and smiling. You could tell he was having fun, though.
“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine,” Lola snickered as Anthony shot her a dirty look.
“At least I didn’t go through some weird scene phase in freshman year,” He smiled and watched Lola’s face, knowing she was blushing despite her dark skin which made it practically invisible. I let a laugh slip out, but quickly stifled it knowing that if I kept going it would mean death. Lola side-eyed me and continued, “I was using my creative liberty to experiment with my options as an artist,” she said with an overly-posh accent that made Eliza laugh.
“Yeah Anthony, don’t be such a downer,” Eliza teased. Anthony simply rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile to pretend like he was mad at all of us. He looked into the box and picked up the paper we left, unfolding it with a hint of excitement and curiosity. When he looked at it, only two words came out of his mouth.
“Holy shit.”
“What, what is it?” Lola tried to look at the other side of the paper, but Anthony quickly held it out of her view.
“What if I didn’t want to show you?” A smile crept onto his face. This was one of those rare moments where he’d be in the moos to joke around with us.
“Don’t be a dick bro,” I said, laughing as I went to grab for the paper. Anthony just held it up in the air and pushed me off of him and I landed on my floor. While he was distracted, though, Eliza took her chance and snatched the paper right out of his hand.
“You boys need to learn to be nice,” she warned in her jokingly stern voice as she unfolded the paper and spread it out onto my bed. We all leaned over to look.
It was a map of a couple towns including ours. There were around ten small star stickers placed on different areas on the map near the streets the four of us lived in. On the top of the map, a couple words were scrawled in black sharpie; “Pick a Place!” I could see everyone’s faces light up.
“Oh my god it’s our map!” Lola shouted and pointed to one of the stars near her street, “this was where we found that old junkyard right?”
Eliza smiled, “I remember that. It feels like such a long time ago now.” She pointed to another star, “and this is where we found that lake we made a hideout of. I still remember swimming in there in 8th grade…”
The four of us reminisced for a while, talking about where we had gone and what we did there, and how impressive it was that we didn’t get tetanus from that junkyard. After nearly an hour of conversation, Eliza asked something that made all of us stop.
“So how about it guys? Do you want to do one last round before the summer ends?”
The rest of us looked around at each other. It was clear we all wanted to do it. Eliza seemed to catch on and she nodded.
“Who wants to pick where we go?”
“How about you do the honors?” Lola suggested, motioning towards the map. “You’re the one that brought this stuff in anyways.”
Eliza raised her eyebrow but didn’t object. Without a word, she examined the map for a few minutes, then placed her finger on one spot a bit far from my house.
“How about here?”
“You think we can make it that far?” Anthony asked.
“Well, we can drive now so why not?”
“You sure there’s some type of trail we can drive on? That spot looks pretty deep in the woods”
“We can find a path to drive on for a bit then walk the rest of the way. C’mon guys, this is probably our last chance to do something like this! Felix, you can drive right?”
Eliza and the rest turned to me with a hopeful expression. I had to comply.
“Sure. No big deal, right?”
All three of them cheered and high fived each other, looking pretty excited to go on one last adventure.
“So when do we leave?” I questioned.
Eliza flashed that smile again, “right now.”
“Right now?!”
“Hell yeah,” Lola chimed in. “It shouldn’t take that long, right?”
“I guess…” Even then I felt uneasy about the whole thing. I didn’t feel prepared enough to go on some random trip into the woods. I needed to pack food, water, flashlights, I had no idea how long this was going to take. Little did I know that those things would be the least of my worries a couple hours from then. I wish I could go back and convince my 17-year-old self that it wasn’t worth it, that I should just convince my friends to stay and talk for the rest of the day. I wish Eliza had never remembered that stupid game. In a way, I’m almost mad at her for what happened, but I know it wasn’t anyones fault. We just wanted to have fun. I wish we could’ve just had fun. But God had a different plan for us. One that made me think Satan himself devised it instead. On July 16, 2013, Anthony He, Lola Smith, Eliza Landserson, and Felix Johanson went on an adventure that none of them were ready for.
Author's Note:
If you just read all of that then thank you so so so much for doing so! I'm a rookie writer, so feel free to comment any constructive criticism you might have if you have actual writing experience! This is the first silly little story I'm posting here, so I hope you enjoyed :)

Im in love with the smart cursor, i remember back in the day, playing multiplayer with friends and making hellavators where I dig one side, buddy digs the other side because thats the fastest way by digging.
And then comes Smart Cursor! It was and still is heaven, but having started a new save, and just got myself the Shellphone, I hate Smart Cursor.
Ill be trying to warp back home, and nope, Im opening a cabin door. Im at my base and wanna switch to zip to the ocean, nope, im opening a chest.
I know its a small annoyance, but I would love if the Shellphone is selected, it would turn off Smart Cursor, or at least prioritize the phones function over interacting with other objects.

Posting on mobile so apologies for the formatting. I live in the deep south, in the deep country. Things are a little different here than they are in the city. I own about 80 acres of pastures and timber, but my house is near the road. Most of my neighbors are on smaller plots of 2-10 acres. I have my front yard fenced in for my dogs, a shetland sheepdog and a mini aussie, and then my livestock in the back. The road is narrow but straight and most of the occasional traffic is loud, fast logging trucks. The fence for my yard is set about 25' back from the road, there is a drainage ditch and the a good 15' of mowed, shady, grassy strip. Apologies for the length of setup here, but it helps to explain why this person was where she was.
This morning I went to let my dogs out and found a lady walking a huge grey pitbull-looking dog right up against my fence. Of course my dogs started barking, as they should when a strange dog is on the property. The other dog reacted very poorly. Of course I called my dogs back into the house, and then went back out to see what was going on. My yard is full of dog toys and this wouldn't be the first time someone has come to ask if a stray dog lived here.
When I went back outside the lady was standing and pointing to her dog. In an authoritative tone she said, "He is reactive." I said I could see that. She looked at me like I was simple. "So you have to make accomodations for him." This was where she lost me. Come to find out she just moved into a little rental house down the road on the corner of someone's property, her dog is recovering from knee surgery and needs to be walked a certain distance every day. She expects me to go down my driveway, out the gate, and onto the road to look up and down and make sure she isn't coming every time I let my dogs out during the day. As she was talking, her dog was snuffling around at the base of my fence and found a bully stick that my dog had dropped right on the other side of the wire and slurped it through the fence and swallowed it while. "Oh my god! That better not be beef! He's allergic to beef! You can't just leave stuff like that laying around!"
That was when I had enough. I said, "Ma'am, do you see that ditch right there? Everything on this side of it is my property. You are not welcome on my property. Please leave immediately. You are trespassing." She said she couldn't walk in the road because of the trucks and I told her that wasn't my problem. She headed back the way she came and I waited for her to leave and then let my dogs out.
I feel like I could have been more accommodating if she hadn't been so abrasive. Maybe we could have worked out a time every day where I would keep my dogs in so she could walk by for an hour or so. But I don't like being told what I can do on my own property and I feel like giving her any concession would just pave the way for more demands. AITA?

1. KR drops off JO. He enters 34 Fairview
   
2. JO enters the basement and gets into a physical altercation with one or more people. The dog freaks out and bites and scratches him.
   
3. The person(s) he's fighting wins, knocking him down. JO is conscious, but injured.
   
4. The person(s) drag him outside and dump him in the snow. They tell him to get lost. He seems coherent enough and they don't feel his life is in danger. They see it more like tossing a drunk guy out of a bar, onto his ass.
   
5. Word spreads inside the house that JO was being a drunk asshole or whatever and they kicked him out.
   
6. JO is actually seriously wounded and loses consciousness on the lawn. Without help he'll soon die.
   
7. People inside either legitimately don't see him or figure "it's not my problem."
   
8. JM searches "hos long to die in cold" and encourages someone to go outside to check on him. They learn that JO is actually dead or dying.
   
9. The family/families go into full on coverup mode. JM deletes the search, calls are made instructing people to keep their mouths shut and that JO never entered the home, and call logs deleted.
   
10. Brian Albert (is that right?) Brian Higgins goes to do administrative work at the police station so that he can be one of the responding officers when the call comes in.
    

It would take a lot more refining to fit this into the (very confusing) timeline, but is this plausible and consistent with what we know? The coverup would include the broken tail light days later, destroying phones, conspiring to keep the story straight, getting Proctor to be on their side, etc.

This rant will probably end up longer than I predict, but oh well. It might be a bit all over the place too, so I apologize if it’s hard to read/understand 😅. I’ll clarify things if I need to in the comments.
So, I’m very new to writing fanfics. Well, specifically, I’m very new to posting them. I have a tendency of not finishing projects, especially writing ones. Recently, I managed to actually finish a fic that I’d been working on for a few months. It wasn’t perfect, and I didn’t even intend on posting it at first, but I figured I should in the case of someone else enjoying it. So, I impulsively decided to post it on Wattpad. A month later, I posted it on AO3 too, but that’s not super relevant to my rant.
I did this for a few reasons. I liked the more relaxed feel of Wattpad, mainly due to me using it for reading for so long. I also thought it was way easier to post photos on there than on AO3. I made some artworks to accompany some of the chapters, which I was certain I wanted to add. At the time, I didn’t know you could add images to AO3. A lot of these opinions were because I didn’t know a lot about AO3.
In hindsight, I think the cons outweigh the pros, though. Even if I look past the commenting system, I just love the nonexistent algorithm and tagging system of AO3. I really didn’t think about how much I’d hate the algorithm on Wattpad. I think it gave my story too much visibility, and I’m getting more than my target audience. It’s also keeping my fic very high on the ranking system, which was fine at first, but it’s gotten to the point where I just wanna move on from the story (it’s been two months since posting, and it’s still being shown to people.) It’s hard to ignore when I just want to read other fics on there, but I’m just reminded of my own!
My main issue right now is commenters. I’ve gotten a lot of support on the fic, but that’s kinda overshadowed by the amount of… more rude(?) commenters I’ve gotten recently. In the past week, there’s been three commenters who all have mainly commented about any grammar issues or about characterization. With the first commenter, I brushed it off and was chill about it, but now that there’s three, it’s really gotten to me and my motivation.
My motivation will prolly come back and everything, but my main worry is about the future. I already have plans for a series, but I’m considering not posting on Wattpad anymore. Though, this is only really a problem if I even write the fic or not. On a side note, it sucks that it only took one story for me to already consider posting only to one site.
I just worry about the people who did enjoy the story, in the case of the fic continuing as a series. I guess I could notify them on my message board, but that would only reach my followers, not everyone who liked the story.
A lot of this is my own doing as well. I wouldn’t have posted on Wattpad in the first place if I had been aware of half the stuff I mentioned here. I’ve used Wattpad for years, but I guess I didn’t know it as well as I thought I did? It’s also my fault that I keep checking my inbox when I know it’s just comments! I think it’s mostly a curiosity thing, and that I keep thinking someone’s gonna ask me a question.
I also posted for a fandom I’m not 100% familiar with? It’s hard to explain that part without disclosing the fandom. It’s like a fandom within a community of fandoms. I know what I was writing about, but not the broader community, if that makes sense. And eventually I need to go into that broader community to understand the fandom as a whole. Again, it’s very hard to explain without outright naming the fandom. Anyway, it’s just also making me anxious whenever people make references I can’t quite get (and are irrelevant, but I know that’s just WP comments in general). I was super inspired by the show at the time, and I was so surprised that I finished a project that I neglected to think about how little I knew about the community as a whole. I wasn’t even aware it was still somewhat alive.
I knew so little that I didn’t even know what general audience the fan base had. I was under the impression that most people who watched the show were teens-young adults, not children. It makes sense, but it wasn’t something I thought about.
Anyway, I just needed to vent. Again, this isn’t everyone’s opinion, but the fact that the past three commenters have been like this have really gotten to me. None of them were malicious either, I know that for certain. It’s still a bit frustrating, though.
On the bright side, this is good practice on getting some thicker skin. It doesn’t help that I’m not super confident in my writing, but it’s fine. I know I’ll gain more confidence the more I write. It’ll just take time. :)
Edit: I should note that this was in a smaller fandom, so this was quite a bit of activity for the week. I don’t hate Wattpad either. There’s still a lot of features I enjoy, but I can see the reasoning for why it’s critiqued a lot, unfortunately. Not just referring to commenters there. I’m also a bit sensitive (as you can probably see), so I could be overreacting here.

The title is long and self explanatory, but I still want to talk properly about it.
I watch TV shows, Anime etc. and sometimes some sex scenes make my skin crawl, sometimes they don't.
For example Heaven Official Blessing have a not graphic but visible sex scene between the straight "couple" and even if nothing is seen (only the shadow of them doing it) I felt so uncomfortable and wished for the scene to be gone forever from the show.
Same goes for Shameless where the amount of sex regardless of gender just makes me want to disappear. Never watched it but stumbled upon my younger brother (also an adult) watching it and sometimes sex scenes would pop up and it was just so unbearable to watch.
Sometimes I watch other shows either with animated or real people that have sex scenes, sometimes surprisingly explicit and of every gender but I don't feel weirded out by it.
At first I thought it was because it's loveless sex between the characters and I find that disgusting but I've seen other characters who had loveless sex and it wasn't as disgusting as some of them.
I just can't tell why or what affects the sometimes hating on sex scenes and sometimes not.
For example I have no issues with the Titans sex scenes despite I do believe they are completely useless and bring nothing to the short worth caring for. Either way sex there doesn't make me as much uncomfortable as that single sex scene in Heaven Official Blessing between the straight side couple and I don't even see anything, just the shadow of it.

Conversational Uglies in Cafe
Hi guys. I’m aware this poem requires a bit of (medical) context so you can scroll to the end for it or you can just experience it blind. ( 1 2 )
\\
My body is whimpering these begs to stay alive.
But I withhold the medicine in a a literal gut wrenching tease (side effects include: severe abdominal pain).
There’s no cure for this disease and several names for this cruelty.
I’ll shuffle through them like a deck of cards. Make your bets now. How many hospital visits this year? Just one if I do this right…
When the lights go off and nobody’s home,
the report will say the house was last observed hollow,
because my body was eating itself to stay alive and all these ugly musings died with me.
What can I say? My liver’s a champion.
I’m lucky. That’s what the doctor said.
Ha.
On my deathbed, the boisterous cadences of my hunger will have followed me.
Echoing from the flimsy walls of this wicked anatomy.
(A moment of silence to let the teenage-edginess pass, please. The flesh must mock itself to save itself).
What was it for? I.E this self-inflicted torture.
A body in pain is easier to inhabit, that’s how it’s always been for me.
Even the anxieties are worth the way my collarbones jut in this sexy way.
“Too much, too much, Body. Rein it in. Tone it down.”
There’s a strategy to this, you see. The best killers are only briefly suspect.
My skin is yellow. My skin is dry. I’ll go blind one day. Not today. Two warring concepts. Who I Am and Who I Thought I Was.
(“You’re lucky.”)
Oh, how the dress clings…
Insert cartoonish sound effects of medicine being injected.
The swelling is instant. Of my body, and of the orchestra as my life is finally fed. (THE DRESS CLINGS! IT MUSTN’T! IT MUSTN’T!).
My bloodstream’s biased. Can’t listen to it. My brain chemistry is feeling conflicted about the whole ordeal but it’ll come around.
Self-love is important and I’m afraid the insulin metabolizes it, too.
I won’t let myself swallow my reality.
But this tiramisu serves my goals perfectly, friend (It comes in biscuit-cream-coffee-chocolate-devastation layers).
I’m supermodel-level agonized, baby. That’s the suffering we all strive for.
I make an idol of the grief.
The months keep track of themselves loudly. (Doctor in ICU: you’re just waiting for an accident to happen. (Girl has no response)).
Anyhow, a corpse can’t feel regret so I’m not too worried.
Just pretend you understand my humor (like how I pretend I don’t understand this sacrifice).
This one’s on me if you promise never to ask how I am.
///
Context: Diabulimia is a complicated eating disorder where a diabetic will purposely withhold insulin to lose weight (as insulin is a hormone that helps sugar enter cells for energy and therefore cause weight gain). As insulin is withheld, the liver begins to breakdown fat and basically melt it into the bloodstream for energy. Weight is lost but the blood’s acidity rises as a consequence leading to DKA, fatal if not treated. If you or someone you know is exhibiting side effects of DKA or diabulimia, allow me to be cliche and advise you to seek help.

A client recently asked if I can do his boats too I’m sure there’s some differences between detailing cars and boats. I was wondering just how much of a difference l there really is. I imagine that most of the same processes apply and that I can do the “interior” or top side kinda like the rest of the boat. And the cabin like the interior of a car. The main thing I was wondering is how much of the boat Do I wax? Do I do the underside, and whats below the water line? Also can I use basic automotive waxes or do I have to get ones for specific marine applications? In the same train of thought can you apply ceramic waxes/sealants and ceramic coats and if so is their a pointe? Is their special waxes for the metal parts too? Also what should I price as a minimum? Any tips are welcome, and yes I’m watching videos on it as I type this. I just figured if throw it out there for extra input. Thanks in advanced.

In hindsight, I should have known something was wrong with The Caeles Academy of Acting.
Maybe the fact that it doesn't exist to the outside world.
This place prided itself on famous alumni it didn't actually name, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with the best in the business.
It's what I wanted.
More than anything.
After enduring four years of high school with barely a semblance of a drama club (we met every month, and our teacher was an alcoholic), and countless failed auditions, I was ready to take my acting career seriously. I had one year.
According to my parents, I had one year to make a living from my passion.
If it didn't work out, I would be on the first plane back to Connecticut.
It's not like they didn't trust me. I think they were just scared I wouldn't be able to financially support myself. So, I got a job right out of high school and slipped a year. Drama schools are expensive, and college’s are cut-throat on who they take on. I found Caeles Academy by accident–or, I guess it found me?
After researching cheap drama classes, auditions, academy’s, literally anything to progress my career, an ad popped up.
Not exactly flashy.
Just a date, a time, and a promise that they only take the best. I ignored it, but throughout the week, I started getting more ads. Just the words, “IMPRESS US - - JOIN CAELES ACADEMY NOW.”
Followed by, “BE WITH THE BEST, AND BE THE BEST. JOIN THE S CLASS NOW.”
When I googled the academy, nothing came up.
I gave up, clicking on the ad, which sent me straight to an application form.
I filled in my details as more of a joke. But I wasn't expecting to get an email back. Again, it was a time, a date, and that exact same tagline: “Impress us.”
However, Caeles Academy was different from what I imagined.
I was expecting a university building, or at least some modern structure.
Judging from their marketing and ads, I figured they could at least afford decent premises. Though I was mistaken. When I stepped out of the Uber, I found myself staring at what looked like an abandoned office tower, a red-brick monolith in the middle of nowhere.
Which was crazy, because I swore a girl wearing a bikini had strode through the doors, with nothing but her phone, and a coffee tucked under her elbow.
According to the text sent from the academy, the auditioning rooms were on the third floor.
Tipping my head back, the checkerboard of broken windows didn't exactly instil confidence.
Neither did the clunky set of automatic doors that took a while to open.
It was a summer's day, and the heat was already baking through my dress, sweat sticky on the back of my neck.
I wanted to make a good impression, but the heels were a little over the top.
Though I had also seen a girl casually walk in wearing a two piece bikini.
“Well?”
Freddie’s voice made me jump. I forgot I was on the phone to him. I was excited the whole car-ride, already high on five coffees, and now I was silent.
If I perceived the ‘academy’ from an objective standpoint, it definitely looked like the perfect place to be brutally murdered. But my own personal opinion was it was.. okay.
“What's it like?”
I pretended not to see a rat scuttling under an old candy wrapper.
“It's… fine.”
“Just fine?”
I could hear the smirk in my friend’s tone. He couldn't wait to tell me it was a scam, and had been reminding me all week I was essentially willingly selling myself to the black market. I was stubborn, so, fine sounded better than my initial first impression.
Which was to turn around, walk away, and completely block the place from my memory.
Unfortunately, at that moment, I valued my pride over my awareness.
“It's… okay.” I said, trying to find positives. I was staring at a looming grey building with shattered windows and a resident rat living near the door. I had a hard time figuring out how the girl from earlier had just casually strode inside, barefoot too. I glanced down at the ground, immediately regretting it.
Like there weren't bits of chewing gum and grime stuck to the concrete.
“Huh.” Freddie said, his tone creeping into teasing territory. “You're really selling it.”
“It just looks like a building,” I muttered, my gaze glued to the rat, who looked a little too comfortable.
Maybe it was a pet.
I was getting progressively more infuriated the more I stared down this place. Judging from the decades old writing ingrained into the door, it used to be a dentist surgery. “What do you want me to say?” I wasn't even trying to hide the scorn from my voice. “It's a building that looks like an academy.”
“Can you send a picture?” Freddie asked, “Ooh, wait, I'll face-time you.”
“That's, uh, that’s not really necessary–”
I was cut off, suddenly, when a guy threw himself through the automatic doors, palms first. He took two stumbled steps forwards, one back, and lifted his head, half lidded eyes finding the sky, before dropping to his knees and heaving up pinkish liquid.
I could see him trying to hold it in, slamming his hands over his mouth, only for it to splurge through his fingers, showering the ground in greyish pink froth.
Like he'd downed a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
Inching towards him, I realized it was Pepto Bismol.
The stink made my own stomach churn.
“Missy?”
I found my voice. “Uh, can I call you back later?”
Before my friend could answer, I ended the call, slipping my phone in my pocket.
The guy was still heaving, coughing up globules of pink.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of my heels click-clacking on concrete made me cringe. The guy noticed, flinching away. Closer, and I could see his scraggly blonde hair.
He was handsome.
Without the bile spewing down his chin.
Early twenties, wearing a fitted white shirt now covered in streaks of bright pink. Part of me wanted to make a half-hearted joke, but getting even closer, so close I could smell his pepto-breath, I noticed he was trembling, his hands clenched into fists.
When I attempted to awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, he twisted around, so fast my morning coffee slithered its way back up my throat.
His eyes were wide, almost feral, studying me like a wild animal.
I noticed the whites of his pupils were red, like he'd burst a blood vessel.
Theatre kids were intense, though I had never met THIS kind of intense.
“Are you… going in there?” The guy’s voice was a child-like whimper I wasn't expecting.
It looked like he was slowly regaining clarity, staring down at his filthy shirt, his hands stained bright pink.
I nodded, uncertainly, offering him my water. “Yeah. Did you audition?”
He shoved it away, slapping himself in the face. “I… I don't know.”
“You… don’t know?”
Suddenly, it was like something had contorted in his expression, a switch being pulled. I wasn't expecting him to twist around so fast. The guy slowly cocked his head, his lips breaking into a grin. His eyes, however, stayed the same.
“Of course I've auditioned.” He said, with a laugh.
“It was the best experience of my life!" His mouth formed an almost mocking frown.
“Unfortunately, I didn't make the cut. Which is a real shame. I'm sure Caeles would have benefited from my talents.”
What was weird, is that his mouth was moving, but he wasn't even looking at me, frenzied eyes caught in an oblivion I couldn't see.
When he did look at me, his expression crumpled all over again.
Pepto jumped to his feet, brushing himself down.
I couldn't take his over the top smile seriously, when his eyes were screaming, hollowed out caverns silently begging me to listen.
This guy was fucking crazy.
“Wait.” Pepto whispered, when I turned to walk away.
He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen before shoving it in my face.
I HAD SO MUCH FUN AT THE CAELES ACADEMY AUDITIONS :)
When I could only stare at him in confusion, Pepto’s gaze flicked to his phone, swiping bile from his lips.
His eyes went cartoon wide, like he couldn't believe what he himself was typing.
“That… that's not what I was trying to say!” He tried retyping it, but the guy was just writing strings of emoji hearts.
I didn't know what to say. I had dealt with rejection before, but I had never gone this far. Pepto was having a full on mental breakdown, his body shuddering, teeth chattering, blinking eyes and lips parting as if to speak, but choking on his words. When he started clawing out his hair, I took the opportunity to make a quick getaway.
Before I could make it to the doors, though, Pepto jumped in front of me, waving his phone directly in my face.
“Just…” he pointed at the screen. “It won't let me…” Growing frustrated with himself, he let out a wet sounding sob, clawing his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, it won't let me…it won't let me type! It's not letting me type!”
By now, he had tufts of hair stuck between his fingernails. I don't know why his first reaction was to immediately try ripping his hair out.
A quick glance at my own phone reminded me of my own audition that was in five minutes.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with what I was pretty sure was delusion, denial, or a mixture of both.
I was considering pushing past him, when Pepto’s phone screen hit me in the face. Again.
This time, though, there was coherent writing.
“FIND LUKE.”
“Luke?” I said. “Who's that?”
“Luke!” The guy was bouncing on the heels of his feet. “He's my…” Pepto drifted off, his eyes going vacant, as if I could physically see his brain being plucked from his skull. Pepto dropped his phone, and I grabbed it before it could hit the ground. His hands went to his curls, clawing, scratching, until he was drawing blood across his forehead.
“I… I don't know! I can't… I can't remember. Luke. He was my… he was my… I don't know, I can't… I can't–”
I stumbled back when he let out a shriek, scratching at his face.
“Fuck!” He whimpered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Pepto grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, his fingers digging into my skin.
“I don't know who he is.” He gritted out, pink froth pooling from his lips.
Pepto broke out into a sob. “I don't… I don't know who he is, but you can find him, right? You can… you can find…”
Again, he trailed off mid sentence, his hands going limp around my shoulders.
I managed to side step him, swallowing a cry.
“Yeah, I'll, um, I'll find him for you.”
Pepto backed away, suddenly, stumbling over himself.
His gaze found mine, vacant, like a baby deer.
“Find who?”
I didn't wait around to answer him, pushing through the doors and stepping inside.
The interior was unsurprisingly even worse than the exterior.
The elevator was broken, so I had to run up three flights of stairs.
I expected at least an attempt at an academy, even in the dregs of an old dentist surgery.
What I got, though, was a never ending staircase, obnoxious photos of teeth greeting me on every level.
The third floor was… less clinical.
I strode directly into a waiting room filled with college aged students, either sitting on plastic chairs, or standing around, rehearsing.
The room itself was cosy enough, a navy carpet and a TV playing a random Twitch stream.
Situated in the middle was a desk with a bored looking woman behind it.
Her smile was fake. I could understand her pain. She was stuck in a room with theatre kids all day.
“Sign here.” She prodded a sheet of paper.
I was convinced her voice was AI.
While I was scribbling my details, I took a moment to notice the stark difference from the kids entering the room, to the ones leaving. The kids entering wore wide, confident smiles and were social butterflies, chatting amongst themselves.
The kids leaving reminded me of pod people.
They left the room silent, in an orderly line with dazed smiles on their faces, like they weren't sure where they were.
I watched one guy walk directly into the wall instead of taking a left toward the exit, and a girl straight up just toppled down the stairs.
The kids waiting with me named them rejects.
I wasn't convinced until I glimpsed an empty bottle of Pepto Bismol sitting on the floor by the window.
Thinking back to Pepto, that made a lot of sense.
I was still dazedly staring at the bottle, when my name was called.
Jumping to my feet, I did my best to calm myself down, straightening my ponytail. Pepto had really screwed with my head. I could barely even remember the lines I had been rehearsing for a week straight.
I was muttering my lines to myself, when I stepped through the door.
The door that apparently turned you into a pod-person on the way out.
For a moment, I thought I was blinded by stage lights.
It was so bright.
The glow bathing me was clinical, stabbing into my eyes.
When I blinked, I found myself standing in front of three shadows sitting in front of me.
Their chairs were made of leather, far different from the plastic ones in the waiting room.
So, they did have filthy cash.
I was looking at one man, and two women.
They were… average?
I expected them to be more glitzier, but they were just regular people.
The man was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, a stiff looking brunette wearing a suit and tie, one leg crossed over the other. His eyes were narrowed slightly, lips curved into the start of a smile. Like I amused him.
The women were polar opposites.
One of them was my Mom’s age, grey hair and floral clothing. She took a sip of water, her gaze burning into me.
Google told me not to be intimidated by their stares, but it was impossible.
These people were carving holes into my skull.
Sitting next to her, a younger girl who seemed to own the color red.
Her hair simmered, blood red, while she herself was sculpted in a dress, perfect cherry lips spread in a wide smile.
With a little too many teeth.
They studied my face like I was already theirs, drinking in every inch of me.
Freddie said I had to find a weakness in their expression and use it to my advantage.
If I could find the prick of a genuine smile, I could become their favorite.
“Hi!” I said. My caffeine intake was starting to take effect.
I didn't realize I was bouncing up and down until I caught myself.
Red’s smile stretched wider.
Maybe they liked my eagerness.
“My name is Misa.” I introduced myself, staying casual, keeping my arms by my sides. “I'm twenty one years old–”
I choked on my next words when Red spoke up. “Impress us, Misa,” Her voice was a smooth, almost seductive rasp, and I felt myself fall into it, enveloped in sugar that was too sweet, and yet I couldn't stop myself. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze challenging me to do something different. To make her want me.
“Show us something we have never seen before.” She stood up, cat-like eyes narrowing, “Show us how desperate you are to join this prestigious class.”
I nodded, and began.
I had planned a whole monologue, practised it over and over again, forcing Freddie to judge me with a none biassed opinion.
I was three lines in, when Red started laughing.
“Stop.”
I did, my cheeks heating up, and she started clapping.
“Sweetie, oh, stop, you're adorable!” She said, her lips curving into a cruel smirk.
She leaned forward, like I was something that entertained her, jostling her heeled foot. “We don't take amateurs. I think you need to go back to school.”
This woman was definitely a psychopath.
Empty eyes sparkling with a gleam that definitely enjoyed humiliating candidates, and a twisted smile that was a little too wide. Red made me want to crawl into the ground.
She made me want to turn around, leave the room, and quit my dream. I was aware of my own fury, my embarrassment turning my cheeks crimson. I matched her.
Maybe that's what she wanted all along. To wear the color of her victims.
Taking a shaky step back, I started to nod, started to agree, my mouth choking with the words, “You're right. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
I had never received proper constructive criticism from a professional standpoint.
Which meant I really did suck.
But I didn't move. I didn't want to move, and Red continued laughing, her companions sitting in silence.
The man rolled his eyes with a loud, exaggerated sigh.
Like I was boring.
The older woman pulled out her phone.
“Misa, you are…cute.” Red said. “But you're not quite what we are looking for.”
I wasn't sure I could admit it right there, but she made me feel things.
Like I was ignited.
Like I was going to prove this crazy bitch wrong.
I found my voice, strong and confident, despite my hammering heart.
“Give me another chance.”
Red’s lips curled. “So cute, Misa. Oh, sugar bear, It would be better if you left the room. Unless you want to embarrass yourself further! In that case, be my guest!”
She turned her attention to her nails, nudging the guy.
“Dinner?” She hummed. “I'm thinking of Italian. You are quite the wine connoisseur, Nicholas. Why don't you introduce me to your favorite?”
“Hey.” I blurted.
They ignored me, getting a little too close.
I don't know why I continued, reading my lines, screaming them, so I would be heard. I read them perfectly, and tweaking the genre from drama to romance, and then to horror. I became three different characters, a high school girl struggling with cancer, a final girl, and a woman going through a divorce.
I was fucking perfect.
But they weren't listening to me, caught up in their own conversation.
I tried again.
And again.
And again.
By now, I was on my knees, my fingers ripping into my hair. I was seeing red.
“We want originality, Misa,” Red said, sucking her teeth.
Her voice crawling into my skull was enough.
She still wanted me.
The thought polluted the back of my mind, taking a strangling hold. She still wanted me. When I lifted my head, Red wasn't looking at me, her gaze on the table grains. “Show us something new.”
I got to my feet, panting, my breath in my throat.
I became a screaming, strangled mess, a woman who lost her baby.
Red’s interest was piqued. Only slightly. Through my fraying vision, she slowly turned in her chair. “Again.” She clapped her hands, “Come on, Misa! We want new! We want never been fucking done before! Are you deaf?”
I couldn't stop the sobs escaping my mouth.
They lost interest again, right in the middle of my reading.
“Why can't you look at me?” I found myself spluttering.
When the man pulled out a bottle of water, I pulled off my heel and lobbed it at his face.
“Look at me!”
He did. Slowly. His gaze found me, for perhaps the first time.
Not as an amateur, but as a potential candidate.
Around the twentieth attempt, I started to laugh. Never been done before? I could feel my fingernails already in my scalp, clawing chunks of my hair out.
Reality contorted, and I felt myself drop to my knees. I was still laughing, spluttering, sobbing. I could still hear her in my head. Never Been Done Before. I started slowly, dragging my fingernails down my face until I felt the harsh sting.
“Again.” Red said, and her voice led me to stare down at my hands, at pinkish flesh glued to my bones, fleshy mounds.
So easy to tear. I didn't even feel it.
Only the sudden, unbridled euphoria of biting into my own skin, locking in my jaw, and ripping into myself.
When I tore it from the bone, warmth filled my mouth, and I was choking, guzzling down my own flesh, mulling it in my mouth and swallowing.
I can't remember how I got so deep, and why I didn't stop.
Why I didn't fucking scream.
But it didn't matter.
Red was standing up. She was clapping, her lips spread into a grin.
Her applause filled me with stars.
So, I ripped my hair from my scalp, a hysterical giggle escaping my lips.
She loved me.
I could see her jumping up and down, clapping.
Louder, and louder.
Her applause controlled me, twisting and contorting me into hers.
I didn't even think. I wanted to impress her, and doing this was doing just that.
My fingers were delving into my right eye socket, clawing my eye out. It didn't even hurt. Not with her thundering applause that was deafening, beautiful, an orchestra in my ears.
When I was semi conscious, my eye was crushed in my hand, but my vision was still mine, almost too clear. I could see streaks of red blurred between my lashes. My hair was caught between my fingers. But I wanted to do more.
When I stumbled to my feet, Red’s smile was so beautiful.
The man, however, looked horrified.
“Someone bring in the one of the successes,” Red’s voice was a shrill giggle, “Bring him in!” she clapped her hands together, and I spat out a fleshy thing. “I want to see them together! I want to see the future in front of us!”
Footsteps coming towards me in slow, shuddery thumps. I looked up, and a shadow was dancing around me.
When I slowly rose to my feet, I half realized I’d bitten my toe off. The shadow had a face, a boy who was younger than me. I think he used to have hair, but half of it was gone, half of it was still stuck between his fists. When I found his eyes, I found twin caverns instead.
Eyes that were still physically there, and yet there was no life.
No spark.
I was staring at a dead body, a flesh puppet who had lost his strings.
When he grabbed my hands, pulling me into a waltz, I caught a smear of scarlet trickling down the back of his neck. When I followed it upwards, his head was covered, slick, dripping with red.
Like me, he matched her too.
And he was beautiful, she told me, her push, her thunderous applause, guiding me into a waltz.
His feet moved, perfecting every step, and my foggy mind couldn't understand why. He matched my every move, the two of us floating across the floor.
My feet knew the steps before my mind.
How could he dance? I thought, dizzily.
How could he dance, when smeared scarlet followed his twisting, and turning and pirouetting feet?
Because underneath that swimming clinical light, the back of the boy’s head had been carved away, a perfectly sculpted cavern where his brain should have been. I could see the severed stem, where it had cleanly plucked out.
His fingers cradled in mine were wet. Swimming in blood.
His own blood.
Spinning round and around, I imagined myself as a princess.
I saw an 18th century ballroom lit up around us. Glittering smiles and glasses of champagne, long, flowing ball gowns.
I blinked, and my head was tipped back, gliding in blood once again.
When he pulled me to his chest, I stumbled, and a name came to light.
Luke.
I had found him.
Our finishing spin left me hard to breathe.
My body was broken, ripped into, and yet somehow not.
By the time we were finished, the two of us bowing, my mind was full of fog.
Cotton candy.
“Congratulations!” Red’s smile was inhuman, stretching right off of her face.
“You're in the S class!”
I was led through a door that wasn't the one I entered from. Inside the room were a dozen or so students, kneeling on the floor. They were missing parts of themselves, like unfinished puzzle pieces.
I dropped onto my knees next to a girl without a head. I could only see her torso, but I knew she was smiling.
Looming over us, was the goddess Athena drenched in blood that was still wet.
Dripping, pooling from every crevice of her dress.
Looking closer, this statue was moving.
Something sickly crept into my mouth.
Her right eye was human, a twitching eyeball sandwiched inside the stone.
It didn't match her. It was wrong, horrifying, like a painting, a real human eye struggling to focus on us.
And then, my own gaze found the statues head, where a real human brain had been forced inside perfect white, pink, greyish mush dripping down the sculpted, slender neck.
I could see where it had been pushed, pulverised through the stone.
The statue’s singular eye found me.
Its dancing pupil jumped up and down.
Before it blinked.
Next to me, Luke was on his knees, as if in prayer.
I can't remember leaving the room.
I just remember running.
Back down the stairs, stumbling, staggering over myself.
I was screaming by the time I reached the doors.
They opened, as usual.
But I couldn't get through. I tried, but I was slamming into something I couldn't see.
Pepto was still waiting outside. The sky was dark.
When he saw me, he stumbled over, slamming his hands into the glass.
I couldn't even understand myself. I was just fucking screaming.
Pepto held up his phone.
“DID YOU FIND HIM?”
I shook my head.
“No.” I lied.
I can't tell him the truth. I don't even know what it is.
“I can't get out!”
Pepto nodded slowly, typing something and showing me his phone.
I'm getting you both out of there. I think I know how I can get inside.
It's been 3 days, and Pepto is yet to return.
I’ve tried multiple times to cry out for the H word. But it won't let me type it.
Please H me. I need to get out of this place.
Fuck. Get me OUT OF HERE.
Classes start tomorrow.

I’m not even sure if it’s a foundation I’m looking for. I don’t wear a lot of makeup and never have.
I tried Il Makiage but found it to be much too cakey and it would get all weird on my skin throughout the day. I’ve also used an urban decay foundation but I also found it to be too heavy.
Right now I just use a drug store tinted moisturizer (bb cream?) which I feel is almost too lightweight.
I’d like something in between. My skin is quite even, a bit on the dry side in the winter, but otherwise I just want to even it out with something lightweight and that won’t like crack on my skin? I’d also prefer something I can apply with my hands but I do have a beauty blender (I am just pretty lazy and also suck at using most makeup tools lmao). Happy for something in drug stores or Sephora. Also not sure if I should use cream based or powder?
Any recommendations? Or do I need to put any information? Thanks!

Age 30 Sex F
Hiii I just have a few questions since my doctor provided little to no advice…looking for someone to shed some light:
Situation: the wound is on the top of my inner lips (but still outside, not inside of inner lips) right under my clitoris. About a size of rice grain. It was done by cutting off and silver nitrate to stop bleeding.
The side of my outer lips that touched the wound also got chemical burnt with silver nitrate I think (it’s dark around it) 😭. When I got home from the clinic I noticed a piece of skin is gone, it looks like a mild second degree burn! About a size of a quarter.
I followed up w my dr and he said just leave it dry as much as I can and use antibiotic polysporin… unless it gets an infection. I’m about to leave the country next week so won’t be able to see a doctor anytime soon, so any advice would be helpful!!
1- should I use OTC antibiotic polysporin? I heard it’s bad sometimes. My outer lip wound and gw wound is slightly rubbing together 😭 I’m scared it will make it too moist. I tried to clean it with a QTIP every 4-5 hours and rinse with warm water after I urinate and wipe dry. Maybe 4 times a day?
2- im on day 2.5 now the skin doesn’t look like it’s healing that much? The gw wound’s silver nitrate crust fell off and I can see some grey mucus, it doesn’t really look like an infection tho(not hurting, no weird color or smell or blood). Ive been putting some light layer of antibiotics on after water cleanse, is it ok or is it infection?
3- the burnt area has some white part in the middle, doesn’t look mucusy, the nurse hotline I called said it’s probably fat tissue growing, is it true? 😭 but I treat it also like the method above.
In general it doesn’t hurt that much. I take vitamin B complex, zinc, D + ibuprofen + be at home without underwear for 1-2 hours to air it out.
Do you think the wound would scab in a week? Also should I throw away the underwear that I wore these days to avoid future cross contamination?
🙏thank you 😭

Hiii I just have a few questions since my doctor provided little to no advice…looking for someone to shed some light:
Situation: the wound is on the top of my inner lips (but still outside, not inside of inner lips) right under my clitoris. About a size of rice grain. It was done by cutting off and silver nitrate to stop bleeding.
The side of my outer lips that touched the wound also got chemical burnt with silver nitrate I think (it’s dark around it) 😭. When I got home from the clinic I noticed a piece of skin is gone, it looks like a mild second degree burn! About a size of a quarter.
I followed up w my dr and he said just leave it dry as much as I can and use antibiotic polysporin… unless it gets an infection. I’m about to leave the country next week so won’t be able to see a doctor anytime soon, so any advice would be helpful!!
1- should I use OTC antibiotic polysporin? I heard it’s bad sometimes. My outer lip wound and gw wound is slightly rubbing together 😭 I’m scared it will make it too moist. I tried to clean it with a QTIP every 4-5 hours and rinse with warm water after I urinate and wipe dry. Maybe 4 times a day?
2- im on day 2.5 now the skin doesn’t look like it’s healing that much? The gw wound’s silver nitrate crust fell off and I can see some grey mucus, it doesn’t really look like an infection tho(not hurting, no weird color or smell or blood). Ive been putting some light layer of antibiotics on after water cleanse, is it ok or is it infection?
3- the burnt area has some white part in the middle, doesn’t look mucusy, the nurse hotline I called said it’s probably fat tissue growing, is it true? 😭 but I treat it also like the method above.
In general it doesn’t hurt that much. I take vitamin B complex, zinc, D + ibuprofen + be at home without underwear for 1-2 hours to air it out.
Do you think the wound would scab in a week? Also should I throw away the underwear that I wore these days to avoid future cross contamination?
🙏thank you 😭

Shadow sorceress – High Elf – Reborn – Haunted one- Jekyll and Hyde vibes
Hi! New to DnD and just finished the first session of my first short campaign and if possible I would love to have a visual of my character and I would be so grateful! I’m not the best at describing visuals but ill give it a go and I hope It makes sense!
Aelin is a reborn shadow sorceress who is a high elf. I imagine her as having very light skin, long black hair that looks like smoke, so whispy tendrils of black shadowy smoke. She is 5ft 6 and wears a long black cloak that has a smokey quartz looking crystal attached above the chest and due to the happenings of session one she has healed scars from a purple worm bite who took a chomp at her side. Due to this her top is in tatters and she has made a makeshift bra/covering out of a pair skeleton hands bound round her back and over her shoulders with leather to somewhat attempt to preserve her modesty. She also has a necklace made out of dwarf teeth and dangling earings made with dwarf teeth and fish hooks. (Session one took some interesting turns that the DM was baffled by)
Aelin is possessed by a fiend, (Switches personalities between fiend and Aelin throughout) Aelins very reserved and typically hides behind her hood with her cloak wrapped tightly around her body whereas the fiend is confident and screams power. More cocky and smirking and has the cloak open and the hood down. She has two daggers and a rapier.

Logged on twitter to see what’s new in the itemshop and all those stuff about Doja Cat and skin things are all over the FYP.