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My Grandmother is a Caucasian, 70 year old woman, no medication, probably between 4’11- and 5’1, about 160 lbs ( Not sure, she’s got thin arms and legs, and while her body isn’t thin, it’s not really heavyset. She has no problem with her mobility, maybe just slower walking, has a bad hip but refuses to take any medication of any kind for any reason, and is a HUGE chain smoker. Probably one or two packs a day. This would explain her infrequent but still noticeable, phlegmy cough from time to time.
I don’t know everything about her past but I know some: One of seven children, parents used to scream a lot, she used to cry in bed with her sister when it happened, told me she stayed away from home as much as she could, started smoking at about 12 years old, got pregnant with my dad at 15, became a mom at 16, by all accounts was the best mom ever, biking, reading, dancing, encouraging my dad to try new things, but still moved around a lot, and kept going from house to house, to trailer, etc.
When she was about early 20s, she met and married a guy who she later divorced because they had a kind of culture clash. I don’t remember exactly what he was, but he was very controlling of her, forbidding her to wear swimsuits, or going anywhere without him, and eventually he threatened her several times with knives and a hand around her neck. Never did anything but she was afraid of knives for a very long time afterwards.
She met my grandpa, and I guess things were fine until after she had my aunt. Sometime after she was away from home as much as she could by way of bingo.This led to her using what she could out of her own paychecks until she came after my grandpa’s, who let her. He sold stuff around the house and eventually asked people for money. Sometime after being married to my grandpa she randomly developed night terrors and sleepwalking. Full on waking up and screaming, full on walking outside and screaming. I guess it just stopped. Was controlling of my aunt, didn’t want her trying new foods, didn’t go out or do fun things with her like she did with my dad.
Nowadays it is well known that nobody wants to live with her, but she’s not like abusive or stealing. But here is what we have noticed:
Heavy chain smoker. It doesn’t look like she even finishes them, she goes like halfway, stops, lights a new one.
Can’t or won’t sit and watch a movie or show. Will start one, get up and do laundry, take care of the dog, check her phone, play on her phone, and will full on have a conversation with you or someone when she was the one who wanted to watch the movie.
Frequent gambler. We just went on a cruise to place she’s always wanted to go and she spent a good chunk either smoking or gambling.
Very annoyed with the smells or steam of foods to the point where she’ll complain or get up and move. My grandpa famously only had seafood twice while married to her and he loved seafood.
Very irritable if she goes a while without a cigarette. She was pretty rude in the airport.
Gets annoyed easily when starting to board or get off the plane. Will full on loudly complain about the heat or cold. Kept asking my dad to open window, close window, turn ac off, turn ac on. Whiny.
Restless, seems like she can’t sit still or focus on anything in a climate where she has to sit and be quiet. (Planes and shows)
Known to start fights about pretty much anything that she doesn’t like. It is all about her from the thermostat, the entertainment, the volume, food, etc very difficult to live with
Very dramatic. Complained she was so cold on an excursion she couldn’t move her leg, and then refused to see a doctor about a numb leg. Said she’d just take a shower and then was suddenly all better about an hour later when she was smoking. Never showered, shrugged it off by saying she’ll be all right.
Dramatic in a little kid version. Like when a two year old is confused or thinking, they’ll scratch their head, purse their lips. Like their mimicking confusion verbal cues? Like they’re thinking this is what we do when we’re confused so this is what I will do. She seems to react to things dramatically and like a second or two after a proper reaction time?
A dog barked and her whole body moved in startled matter. If she hates something she eats, she makes an audible grunt, forces a sad expression in her face, holds a napkin to her mouth, and will dramatically push the food away. It’s not just dramatic, for some reason it makes me think of a toddler going through the motions so to speak.
Will sometimes ask us questions and then immediately talk to someone else or walk away and do something.
Says she’s an introvert who doesn’t like talking to people, but actively makes a point to talk to people. Not in a rude way or anything, just likes talking to people. Not sure if that means anything but I’ve always noticed that. Why would you say you dont like talking to people if you actually do?
Has quit a few jobs for silly reasons, and made impulse buys, like a new car when she obviously can’t afford it. Even back when I was a kid, she was known to gamble nearly everything, and could never afford anything, even though she made decent money.
Loves to complain. Or she just complains a lot. Going out to eat with her is usually a nightmare unless we go out with her to an approved place.
My dad made a joke that she’s ADD and it got me thinking about everything. Can she have and have had undiagnosed ADD? Can symptoms of an ADD nature appear because of trauma? Can trauma beforehand affect symptoms of ADD?
Or maybe it’s undiagnosed anxiety or depression, but can those lead to restlessness or symptoms like ADD?
My great grandma once told my mom apologetically my grandma has always put herself first before anyone. But dad’s joke had made me wonder if there’s maybe overstimulation or…something?
I know you’re not psychic and I’m happy to give any extra info, but I wondered if a person can be horribly selfish if they have some kind of undiagnosed whatever.
Thank you! :)

My ac stopped blowing cold air system is charged I even evacuated the refrigerant and pulled a vacuum on it it held the vacuum overnight re charged it and still no cool air I can see and hear the compesser kicking on and off Low side pressure flutters from 22 to 42 High side stays around 100 Any ideas? Appreciate the advice

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Previously, on rewatcher's diary: https://www.reddit.com/buffy/comments/1crl8ks/rewatchers_diary_season_2_episodes_8_to_10/
On today's menu: Ted (2x11), Bad Eggs (2x12), Surprise (2x13), Innocence (2x14).
The quick thoughts: Ted is better than I thought, Bad Eggs proves that even bad Buffy is good TV, I was too tired watching Surprise and Innocence but they're as great as I remember them. On to me having too random thoughts, in a random order.
Ted

There's a fun bit where Buffy has had enough of Ted, gets out of the house, sits on a swing(?) and calls out "vaaampires? Heeere, vampires." in a "here, kitty kitty" voice, reminiscent of how Spike called for Buffy in School Hard (2x3). Are we suggesting there's a connection between Spike and Buffy?
When Ted says "you'll spend your best dating days [years?] locked away in a mental institution", that hits harder when you know—from Normal Again (6x17)—that Buffy has already been in an institution.
I enjoy collecting Terminator references. I don't think "he's a robot" is enough to count. Maybe. Dunno.
Giles and Jenny talk about how his past actions ended endangering her in The Dark Age (2x8).
But then Jenny seeking Giles out (while he's out patrolling) results in her endangering and hurting him.
Giles' past actions got someone killed, mirroring how Buffy (according to her beliefs) got Ted killed. It seems the apple doesn't fall far from the surrogate tree.
Buffy being horrified—first at Ted being Ted and being in her life, and then at having killed him—really stuck with me. That's probably my favorite aspect of this episode: those powerful feels.
When Buffy is wailing on Ted and chucking him down the stairs, one wonders whether it didn't stop being self-defense at some point.
On the whole not fantastic, but better than I expected.

Bad Eggs

Willow and Buffy grow suspicious that there's something going on between Xander and Cordelia. Huh, I wonder where this is going.
I had forgotten just how funnily awful the chemistry between Xander and Cordelia is.
In the beginning when Buffy fights one of the Gorch brothers, he does a stunt where his hat falls off while he's falling to the ground and/or is rolling on it, but then he grabs the hat mid-roll and puts it back on before getting up and running away. For my money, that stunt was really fun and a bit cool. He seemed really attached to his hat.
Eggs, chestbursters, mind/motor control, underground vagina monster. Whatever, meh.
Meh.
Oh hey, having sex might have bad consequences. Chekhov's... egg? Foreshadow much?

Surprise

Willow said "date"!
I'm more of a Tillow shipper but man Willoz is so god damn cute. Hush: no rush.
"A: what do you want for your birthday? / B: Surprise me / A: I will". He is truly a man of his word.
Joyce asks "do you really think you're ready", then drops a plate—first in Buffy's dream, then in reality. I think we'll see further repetitions of this motif in S5.
Drusilla with blood in the corner of her mouth (in Buffy's dream) is such a great image.
Gasp, Jenny is not who we thought she was!
Her suggesting Angel should be the one to get The Judge's arm out of the way is a clever move: it will (or rather: would) drive Angel and Buffy apart, but in a way where Jenny has plausible deniability.
"[the flowers:] I can't abide them" — Dru, are you high on your own supply? She's sooo much fun.
Gasp, Buffy and Angel get captured by Drusilla and Spike!
Brian Thompson returns (yay!) to play his second and final role: The Judge.
So what's with the dream and the worry about Drusilla killing Angel? Is there a sense in which she did? I think I can connect the dots partially: in Lie to Me (2x7), Angel reveal a dark truth about how he (er, Angelus) drove Drusilla mad and turned her. Drusilla brought out the monster in Angel(us). What "killed" Angel at the end of Surprise was linked to that: the monster coming back out. Yes, the real trigger was him experiencing a moment of happiness (or maybe relief?) with Buffy, but that only happened because Buffy lied to herself about Angel being covered from head to toe in red flags, and the biggest such red flag was Drusilla. I'm not sure this amounts to "Drusilla was instrumental in bringing out Angelus", but she was... related to it, I guess.
Maybe it just reflects Drusilla's attempt on Angel's (uhhh) life in What's My Line 2 (2x10).

Innocence

Trio of vampires, assemble! Angelus is back!
What is it with trios and even-numbered seasons: trio of vampires, trio of initiative bros, trio of nerds. It's a trio of trios.
Like many others, I like the screen presence of DB-as-Angelus more than DB-as-Angel. Angelus is twisted and evil and awful and... so much fun to watch.
Sticks and stones may hurt my bones but words... actually, it looks to me like it was Angelus' words that cut Buffy the deepest. She looked stone cold when she talked about having to kill Angelus, which was as a consequence of him using sticks and stones.
In the dream sequence, is the implication that they (Buffy, Angelus, Jenny) are looking at Angel's grave? Did I miss a smoking gun on that? I figure it has to be, since that's the thing that makes the most sense—it shows a recent loss of Buffy's; it shows Angelus having arisen from his metaphorical tomb, i.e. from inside Angel; and given the next events (Buffy going to Jenny) the dream must have incriminated Jenny, but that only makes sense if the dream demonstrates she knew something, and the only knowledge that would incriminate Jenny is knowledge about Angel vs. Angelus.
When Angelus comes and grabs Willow (intending to kill her), Xander shows his greatest and most consistent two virtues: courage, and his love of his friends. He grabs the cross and confronts the monster to protect his friend, potentially putting his own life at risk. Xander is not the greatest guy but he does have has a great side, and it's good to see it.
Being brave and taking a cross to Angel(us) mirrors his bravery in Prophecy Girl (1x12), in which he was brave and took a cross to Angel—although taking a cross to Angel wasn't brave in itself, it was part of a bigger act of courage. I'm also thinking of Grave (6x22), during which his courage and his love for Willow saves the day, and there he doesn't even have a cross or other artifact to protect himself. (There are several other instances where we see his love and courage saving the day.)
Angelus betrayed and murdered Angel. It's like poetry, it rhymes with Star Wars. "Darth Liam"?
If we blur the Angel/Angelus distinction a bit, we see someone who's in love with Buffy turn to the dark side—i.e. become corrupt on the inside—and then switch their allegiance from the good guys to the bad guys. That kinda' mirrors Faith going dark starting in Bad Girls (3x14) and then siding with the Mayor.
In the car with Giles, Buffy feels guilty about losing her innocence. (Yes, that was a pun.)
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that rocket launchers are awesome.

Updated episode tier list

S-tier: 7 13 14
A-tier: 9 10
B-tier: 3 6 > 1
C-tier: 8 11 > 5
D-tier: 2 4 > 12

To preface, I used to take Doxy every day for months during Covid for acne, but eventually stopped due to not feeling comfortable relying on an antibiotic so much- even when taken with probiotics. I’ve been able to keep my acne at bay with Spironolactone and a tailored skin routine.
But then last week for the first time ever I broke out into a rosacea flare up around my eyes and cheeks (ocular rosacea). I went to my dermatologist and she prescribed me Doxy 50mg for two weeks. After it seemed like the rosacea was getting worse they upped me to 200 mg a day. I took the two pills along with food, water, and a probiotic and had no stomach pain or discomfort. When I woke up the next day I felt relatively fine until two hours later when I touched my skin and it hurt.
I went to work and as the hours passed my entire body was riddled with aches and pains- I was shivering from feeling cold (to the point my nails were turning blue) and had to leave early to go to a doctor. The doctor did a Flu test and it came back negative, my throat looks fine and the lymph nodes weren’t swollen. He said that the main culprit is most likely the Doxy and to stop taking it to see if I improve.
And while the Doxy isn’t out of my system yet, I still feel terrible. Everything aches and pains as if I have a flu without the other flu symptoms (stomach pain, cough, etc.) My skin feels super sensitive to the touch, my neck and back are stiff and it’s gotten to the point where doing simple tasks such as eating and showering was a chore because I feel so rigid and weak.
My doctor explained that even though I’ve tolerated Doxy in the past, my immune system has changed over the two years and may have developed a sensitivity to it. Saying that my immune system is reacting to the Doxy and thinks there’s an infection so it’s reacting accordingly (hence the aches and pains). I only took the Doxy for 3 days before stopping use.
I just wanted to know if this is a common experience by others, and if so, how long after stopping Doxy did it take for the severe pains and chills to subside? Also, just as a heads up to people who may be starting the medication that it’s a possible side effect. It was helping the rosacea flare up, but the pain is not worth it. I’m going to stay off it and keep track of how I feel to decide whether the Doxy is the culprit or not.

So I basically just canceled my colonoscopy and endoscopy when I was already in the operating room. Long story short had my colonoscopy and endoscopy scheduled for today and the prep was not that bad made sure not to eat much two days before prep began had the big jug and if you put it in the fridge and drink it cold it's honestly more pleasable. Had clear yellow stool and everything was good. Percedure was a 4 but doctors office called me around 12 telling me I could go in sooner if I wanted. So by 1 I was there already yes I was nervous as hell the whole drive there but kept telling myself everything was gona be okay. Got there checked in staff was nice at check In sent too the second check in before pre op. When I was called in too pre op I was nervous when I got to my room and the nurse started making me sign consent forms. But when she told me about my sedation !! The way she explained it saying I wasn't gona be completely out that it was a twilight sedation basically telling me I would probably hear them and see them possibly I totally lost it my body entered a fight or flight response my anxiety shot through the roof I couldn't stay still just thinking of that. Then on top of that I have a tendency of fainting when getting blood drawn or iv pokes and this nurse couldn't get the iv in and just kept saying oh I can't get it in ama poke you again. I ended up fainting twice and nit being able to drink water was so horrible I was sweating bad shaking basically having a panic attack my wife was called in for moral support and did work alot eventually another nurse came in and put the iv fast and I didn't even feel it. Was taken too the op room and literally left there for a good 20 minutes I was so nervous anxiety was so high and then just waiting there I couldn't do it I felt so nauseas and like I was gona pass out I eventually told the nurses get me out am done and they did. Tomorrow ama call and reschedule it was honestly such a bad experience but I need too get it done ughh.

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

In what universe is this acceptable ? There's not even double glazing let alone proper thermal insulation.

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Hey guys, I dont know a lot about PCs but I'm trying to learn as I really need a proper PC for work (and a little bit of gaming) and up to now have been struggling with an old laptop.
This PC would be used for editing short films; documentaries, and anything under the film umbrella (so software wise, looking at Avid, Davinci, Premier as the main ones). I'd also like to be able to use it to render large amounts of 3D assets in a (hopefully) quick amount of time, from softwares like Blender and Adobe After Effects.
Tl:dr; this computer will mainly be built for post production workflows for films, as well as my own hobbies with 3D modelling and rendering.
I will also use it as a gaming pc; but thats not the priority.
Any help would be deeply appreciated! Everyone who comments here deserves to have their pillow be cold everynight, and to never stub their toe again.
Edit: here are the auto questions and answers:
>Is this a brand new build, or an upgrade to an existing build?
Brand new.
>What will this PC be used for?
Video editing, 3D modelling, some basic animation, rendering, compositing, and gaming. Software include Avid Media Composer, ProTools, Blender, Maya, Nuke, DaVinci resolve, AfterEffects, and so on. I would like to be able to quickly render a decent amount of assets in any of the listed programs.
>What country will you be purchasing in?
Australia :) we dont have microcenters
>Do you need one or more monitors included in the budget? Please list how many and any size/resolution/refresh rate preferences if needed.
Two monitors, but can stick to one for now if neccesary. I would like the monitors to have really high resolution, and have really good color quality incase I need to do colour-grading on edited videos.
>What is your preferred and maximum budget range for this build, in local currency? Parts lists may sometimes have additional shipping costs. Please note whether prices in your country include sales tax or not, and adjust your budget accordingly. Typically VAT countries will have it included in the part list prices, whereas regular sales tax countries like the US and Canada will not.
Somewhere around $3000 would be ideal. Less is great, and more is doable (but try to keep it closer to $3000 than $4000). Tax is automatically included with any purchase here in Australia.
>Do you need WiFi, or do you have a wired ethernet connection available?
I have WiFi.
>Do you have any specific size or noise requirements for the build?
Preferably smaller and quieter, but it is what it is
>Do you have any aesthetic preferences for color or lighting? Describe what you're looking for, or feel free to provide some links to examples that may help. Some people prefer an inobtrusive stealth build, while others may prefer a case full of rainbow RGB.
No real preferences. Black is better as you cant see dust as easy on it, but idm really. If you can make it look cool and keep it on budget, fuck yeah, but dont worry about it really
>Any other specific requests or requirements? Examples might include a specific minimum amount of storage, or a particular CPU socket for a future upgrade path, etc.
I'd like it to have around 2TB of storage :)

Hello, I am M25 looking for a detailed woman that wants to RP as a spy. I am around 5’8, average body that is slightly on the pudgy side, a straight smile, and half white/half Mexican. You were the only child to your parents but your dad was a drunk and your mom cheated on him and neglected to you. Once you hit 18 and graduated from high school, you instantly went into the military. It was hard and difficult for you at first. However, you started to do well in it. So well, that when it came to marksman training and hand to hand combat, you were good at it. You were then contracted by the government to take certain assassination jobs of corrupt officials overseas. You were able to get a graduate degree, own a house, and a new car as you were only called to do your job twice a month with a couple of meetings as well. One job paid 6 digits as long as the terms and conditions of the job was meant. However, you were lonely. You were told that you were allowed to date but not tell anyone your actual job. You and I hit it off where we got along with each other and frequently video chatted. You even went as far as sending me gifts at my work from other vendors. You really liked me but had to be careful regarding your job. You decided to ask me on a date at your place where we can watch a movie and make dinner together. You were looking forward to seeing me. However, you were called in for an emergency briefing on an assassination 24 hours ahead of time. You were able to complete the job but had a black eye and a couple of cracked ribs in the process. You made it with only a few hours to spare as you were sore and tired. Blood even on your lower lip as you tossed your clothes in the washer. Getting your ice bath ready as you had a cigarette and bottle of powerful liquor to dull the pain. When you were in the tub, you had time to reflect and relax. A small part of you just wanted to quit but you enjoyed only having to work a handful number of times a month. You fell asleep in your bathtub but did not set your alarm. The ice cold water making your body numb to the touch as you were in dreamland. I arrived a couple of hours later and rung your doorbell. Even tried calling you as all of a sudden, you awakened and was caught off guard by me. Cursing at yourself as you forgot our date was tonight. The worst part about it was that you did not have much makeup options and only had clothes that covered you from head to toe for your missions and clothes for bedtime usage. You answered the phone, “Hi, if this is a bad time, I can reschedule”. I say as you were eagerly looking forward to meeting with me. Turning me away would make you feel bad.