I bought a PC from NZXT back in October, and ever since I got it there has been no option to put it to sleep. Just shut down and restart, I have to use my keyboard to actually get it to sleep
At first I just assumed it was a windows 11 thing (my old pc was stuck on 10) but now that I’ve used other windows 11 pcs I’ve figured out that it’s just a me problem. I’ve seen this before on my old pc whenever I screwed up my drivers but a restart or an update would fix it
It’s been 7 months, full of drivers updates, windows updates, restarts, and even (albeit insignificant) hardware upgrades, and I still don’t have that option. Using my keyboard to do it is fine, it’s such a minor thing, I’m just worried that this minor thing could be a sign of a more major issue that I’ve also just chalked up to being a windows 11 thing, and the hardware is such an insane upgrade (from a Radeon 580 to an RTX 4080) that I wouldn’t notice if something was keeping it from running as intended anyway
If anyone has any idea of what’s wrong, or if anything is wrong at all and I’m just overthinking, I’d love the advice

First/Previous
The travel took on a less gloomy quality in the day that passed since Gemma’s self-reflection and although there remained a queer distance in her eyes, she seemed in better spirits in losing the weight of the words.
It was a night just beyond Wabash Crevasse that we pushed on till sunset was almost upon us and we were each tired and the food stocks ran low and so we found harbor in a half collapsed cellar where a home once stood; it was only after examining the slatted, rotted boards of the old place, fallen over, tired with decay, that we spied the cellar doors intact; sheets of door metal plied us with safety from the outside world and the interior of the place stank of mold and the deeper recesses were collapsed, but there was a cradle to crossbar the stair hatch and I put my prybar there for the night. We finished the water and canned tomatoes, and I smoked a cigarette, staving off the inevitable doom which would come with the dwindling of our supplies.
I’d peeked through the space where the doors met at the cellar’s entry and watched the full darkness there while the youngins spoke of life and the trivial pursuits of it and I hardly said a word besides.
Sitting on the lowest step with Trouble dumbly maintaining her station by me, by the low glow of the space in the threshold, I saw they’d pushed their bedrolls together and Andrew had fallen asleep with his arm over Gemma’s shoulder and her eyes glowed with shine from the crack, blinked a few times while seeing me; she too eventually drifted to sleep, and I spent time by the secured door.
Gunshots rang across the stillness, and they stirred from their quiet slumber and Gemma asked, “Harlan, is it alright?”
I moved to the space there at the doorway again and listened and watched what I could through that crack and nothing beyond came. “It’s safe. I’ll be up a bit longer. I’ll watch.”
Andrew asked, “Can’t sleep?”
“I’ll sleep in a bit. Don’t worry about me. Rest. Sleep good and we can put more behind us.
They sat up, legs crossed triangle-wise, and Gemma spoke again, “Why do you have such a hard time sleeping? It seems I’m asleep after you and only awake after you too.”
“Yeah,” said Andrew.
“It’s cool at night. I can listen to the wind.” I shrugged.
“You should be the one that tries to get some sleep,” said Andrew.
I said nothing.
They reached out their arms and I shook my head.
“Here,” Gemma said, “Move your bedroll closer.” She reached across the dirt floor of the cellar and dragged my splayed roll so that it sat beside hers.
“I’ll sleep later.” I turned my attention back to the door and ignored them till their sounds of sleep could be heard. The Alukah was nowhere and did not tap on the door that night and when I moved to sleep, I shimmied onto the roll beside them, facing away on my shoulder; the dog followed, laid on the bare dirt beside me and I held the mutt.
Though I refused a noise as they stirred in the absolute darkness, I felt Gemma’s arm fall over my own shoulder and felt Andrew’s hand touch my back, and water traced the bridge of my nose and I slept deeply thereafter.
There was no breakfast without food, and the water was gone; I felt the eyes of the dog on us as we packed up our belongings that next morning and I tried not to imagine the poor animal skinned over fire. I smiled at Trouble, patted its head, scratched its chin; she sniffed my hand like she was looking for something that wouldn’t be found.
We went west again, ignoring roads and pushed through straight wasteland where nothing was and no one was, and with every dry footfall on the dry hard ground, I wished for rain, and I wished that when it had rained, as infrequent as it was, that I had been wise enough to save what we could from the sky; that sky was red and swollen and refused to burst. We pushed on through strange dead thickets where grayed and twisty yellow branches lurched from the ground into the sky like even they too wished for an end to all the suffering. It was days more till we would see Alexandria and though I could stave off hunger (thirst too, if necessary), I was not so certain that the children would be able to push on without it; they did not complain and watched the ground in our march and maintained higher spirits than I could’ve imagined from them.
Early in the day, they spoke often, and I listened and as they wore on, their words came less and even the dog seemed in a lower mood for the unsaid predicament; me too.
Gemma broke the silence on the matter by saying, “What are we going to do about food? Water?”
“We’ll push on.”
“We could turn back?” asked Andrew.
“The more time we spend out in the open, outside of a city, the more likely it is that the Alukah will catch us unawares. Tighten your belts.” Our feet took us around a dilapidated truck, an old thing with a rusty hook which dangled off a rear arm. “Save your urine.”
They made faces but did not protest.
“Does that work? You ever drink pee?” asked Andrew.
I laughed, “I thought we’d be there by now. I took us too long by trying to drop the scent of the Alukah. That thing’s hunted us for days—last night was the first time it ain’t bothered us. It’s got me wondering why.”
Gemma piped up, licking her dry lips before speaking, “Do you think that monster ran into those scavengers we saw?” Then I caught her shooting a look at Andrew, “At least we warned them.” Her smile was faint and almost indiscernible as one.
I shrugged. “Can’t say. Don’t think it’s smart to turn back. Won’t be long and we’ll touch the 40 and then it’ll be a straight on to Babylon—couple of days—can’t turn back though. Maybe without food; that’s doable. Water’s the worst, but if it comes to it,” I paused and looked on the weathered faces of the children, on the lowered head of Trouble which followed her nose across the ground (it searched just short of frantic), “Like I said, ‘save your urine’.”
The first pains of hunger held within me brought up some reminiscence and I wished for nothing more than to hold Suzanne; I could nearly smell them and in the swaying walk which took us on past toppled townships, I held long blinks where I could nearly make out their face and if I really pushed the limits of my imagination, I could feel them. In those moments, as we passed dead places, rotted pits of despair, I could think of little more than their presence. Though I knew it was a dangerous game, hoping for more than I was worth, I hoped for Suzanne then and I wished that I’d taken them up on their offer to travel to Alexandria with them; it could’ve been home—it never was in all the times I’d gone there, but who knows? The thoughts of Babylon brought forth their gardens; the wild gardens and the water which flowed freely through their pipes. I wished I was a different person entirely and that too would’ve been better for Suzanne; how it was that they’d seen anything in me, I don’t know. How it was that they could stoop to the level of being with someone like me—I warded off that thought, because to place the blame there would certainly be unfair. I thought of my love plainly and wanted a different life more suited to them.
Imaginations played more furiously, and I remembered the evening when Dave stopped me from leaping from that roof—it’s doubtful that he even realized that he’d slowed my demise; perhaps he did know—I wished then that I could ask him. Too kind for the world. People too kind for the world were scarce and hardly worth the trouble. Yet, there I was, chaperoning those two across the wastes.
Gemma was a broken person when I’d found her, tortured in Baphomet’s well; Andrew was a dullard boy who’d lost his hand. What a silly predicament.
I stopped in my movements and swiveled on my heel to catch Andrew by the shoulder. “You still got your hand, don’t you?”
In good humor, the boy grinned, lifted the nub on the end of his left forearm to show me, “Nope.”
“Dammit, no! The hand in the jar!”
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “In my pack.”
“Stop,” I commanded Trouble; the dog hardly recognized my words and continued a way then circled back, sad eyes looking up from where she took to sit by my side. Gemma, both arms dangling loosely from her own pack’s shoulder straps, took into the circle we’d formed.
The girl asked, “What about the jar? It’s nasty, but I guess it’s his.”
“I think that’s it,” I said. I took Andrew by his shoulders, looked him in his eyes, “We could use it!”
“What?” The boy almost laughed in the display of our concern. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I think I’ve got it! It’s good for a trap.” I shook him; maybe too hard. I almost smiled. “It’s worth a shot!”
“It’s mine.” He bit his top lip, withdrew from me.
“You’ll feel differently about that,” I said.
Gemma placed a hand on Andrew’s pack and tried ripping it open. “Give it to him!” shouted the girl.
The boy whipped from her grasp, and he spun on his feet, and panic stood on his face. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”
I took a step forward, “No, not anymore.” I put out my palm, “Give it.”
Andrew nearly flinched at the thought of it and shook his head a little. “Why?”
“I told you why,” I said.
“You don’t even know if it’ll work, do you?” his words were long in protest.
The girl started again, “Andrew, please.”
He locked eyes with Gemma and once again, his bottom teeth came up to meet over his top lip and he moved his jaw methodically with contemplation.
“What does it even matter?” she asked.
“It’s mine. You don’t know what it’s like.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“C’mon,” he said, but his pack straps fell from his shoulders, and he hunkered down on the ground and opened his bag; his right hand plunged into the recesses therein and withdrew the jar with his severed left hand. He held the object up, refusing to come up from his open pack, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Take it then.” He shook the jar; its contents sloshed with liquid decay.
I grabbed the thing, held it to skylight; the remains within had congealed and rotted and lumps nearly floated in the brownish liquid which had formed in the base of the container. I shook it and stared for a moment at the miniscule debris which floated alongside the hand; each of its digits had swollen and erupted to expose bone; some had come away in pieces. “Tomorrow,” I said and nodded.
We gathered ourselves and Andrew pulled his pack on again and we moved, Trouble still looked sorry and the boy remained quiet while the girl chattered on with questions while we took through the dying ground in a formation with the dog on point then me then the children.
“What will you do with it?” she asked me.
“Not sure yet.”
Andrew made a noise like he wanted to say something but didn’t.
“You think it will work?” asked Gemma.
“Nothing’s a guarantee. They’re smart—Alukah.”
“Smart enough to figure out a trap?”
I shrugged. “We’ll find out.”
“We could put stakes in a pit.”
“Keep on the lookout for a building. Something with multiple floors.”
With that, we moved on, found a worn, mostly destroyed road and we fell into a travelling quiet and the thought of hunger or thirst arose again, and I pushed it down—though I knew the uneasiness could only last so long before savagery would overtake the human condition; the kids seemed strong enough, but I kept an eye on the dog too. Savagery belonged not only to humans, after all.
The ground of the wastes was harder when it was quiet, and it was flatter further west. The sky—red and full of thin and transparent drifting clouds—seemed an awful sight when stared at for too long; it was the thing which stretched as if to signal there wasn’t an end in any direction, as if to declare we had much more to go till safety. Wanderlust is a thing that I believe I’ve felt before, but under that sky, with those two and the dog, I didn’t feel it at all. It was doom that I felt. Ignorance and doom. And it was all because I was certain I’d made all the wrong mistakes, and it was coming back to me. I was experienced. We should’ve had food and water. Perhaps there was some deep and nasty part inside of me that had intended to sacrifice them along the way. The words of the Alukah might have rung true: You say you make no deals, but I smell it. I think you’d deal.
Surely, I felt differently. Surely.
“Getting darker,” called Andrew as we came to where signposts—worn and bent and barely legible—told us of a place once called Annapolis and the buildings were nearly gone entirely; places, maybe places that were once homes, were leveled—I was briefly caught in imagining what it might’ve been like all those ages ago. As are most places, it was haunted like that and when we came to a long rectangular structure of metal walls—thin walls—we took it as a place for rest for the night.
It once served as an agricultural station, for when we breached its entry, there were a line of dead machines—three in all—cultivators or tillers which stood higher than any of our heads and Gemma asked what they were, and I told her I thought they were for farming. The great rusted bodies stood in quiet shadow as we came through a side passage of the building and the great doors which had once been used to release those machines from the building stood frozen in their frame. I approached the doors, lighting my lantern and motioning for the children to shut the door we’d entered through.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed the doors would roll into the ceiling and the chains which held the doors in place were each secured with rusted padlocks—I removed my prybar from my pack and moved along the wall of doors, giving each old lock a smack with the weapon; each one held in place, seemingly fused there through years of corrosion, and I rounded the cultivators once more, back to the children, near the side door where they’d discovered a rickety stair frame which crawled up the side of the wall to a catwalk; along the catwalk, a levitated box stood at the height of the structure, stilted by metal legs, and we took the stairs slowly with the dog following close behind; the poor mutt was mute save the sound of its own shuffling paws.
The metal stairs creaked under our weight and Gemma held her own lantern high over her head so that the strange shadows of the place grew longer, stranger, and suddenly I felt very sure that something was in the dark with us, but there was no noise except what we made. My eyes scanned the darkness, and I followed the children up the stairs till we met the overhang of the catwalk and I peered into the shadows, the blades of the cultivators—far extended on foldable arms—struck up through the pool of blackness beneath us and I felt so cold there and if it were not for the breath of my fellow travelers, I might have been lost in the dark for longer than intended—lost and frozen and contemplative.
“There’s a room,” said the boy, and he pushed ahead on the hanging passage, and he was the first to the door. “Boxes,” he said plainly.
Upon coming to the place where he stood, Gemma pushed her lantern over the threshold, and I saw what he’d meant as I traced my own lantern to help; the room was crammed with plastic totes and old metal containers of varied sizes. There seemed to be enough empty space to maneuver through the room, but only if one watched their feet while they walked. Carefully.
We moved to the room, and I found a stack of crates to place my lantern then motioned for Gemma to douse hers. In minutes, the place was rearranged so that we could sit comfortably on the floor; crates lined the walls precariously and we breathed heavy from the work done, but we began to unpack and upon watching the children while I rolled a cigarette, I felt a pang of guilt, a terrible summation—all choices in my life had led me here and with them and perhaps it would have been a better world for them without me.
Mentally shrugging this thought away, I lit my cigarette, inhaled deeply, and then withdrew the jar which Andrew had handed over. I held it to the lantern to examine it. The grotesqueness of it hardly phased me and I watched it more curious and hopeful than disgusted.
“I hope it’ll work,” said the boy, “Whatever it is that you plan on doing with it.” He grimaced and maintained a further silence in patting his bedding for fluff. The dog moved to him, and she pushed her forehead against him where he squatted on floor. The boy scratched Trouble’s chin and whispered, “Good girl,” into the top of her head where he’d pushed his own face.
“I’m hungry,” said Gemma; she placed her chin in her arm while watching Andrew with the dog. She sat on her own flat bed there on the floor and stated plainly the thing that I’d hoped to ignore for longer.
“I know.” I took another drag from the cigarette and let the smoke hang over my head. “The dog?”
Andrew recoiled, pulling Trouble closer into his arms.
I smiled. “It was a joke.”
Andrew relaxed, but only a moment before Gemma added, “Maybe.”
The boy narrowed his eyes in the girl’s direction, and she shrugged. “If it’s life or death.”
He didn’t say anything and merely continued stroking Trouble’s coat.
That night, we slept awfully and even in the complete darkness, I felt the cramp of the storage room and the angled shapes of the tools that protruded from the containers on all sides remained permanent well after we’d turned the light off and it felt like those shapes were the teeth of a great creature like we were sitting inside of its mouth, looking out.
Trouble positioned herself partially on my chest, her slow rhythmic breathing brought my thoughts calm and I whispered to her in the dark after I was sure the others were asleep, “I promise it was a joke.” And I brushed the back of her neck with my hand and the animal let go of a long sigh then continued that deep rhythmic breathing.
Still without food or water, the following day was the true indication of the misery to come. Gemma’s stomach growled audibly in waking and Andrew—though he kept his complaints to himself—smacked his lips more often or protruded the tongue in his mouth in a starvation for water. The room, in the daylight which peered through pinpricks of its half-decayed roof, seemed another beast altogether from its nighttime counterpart; it was not so frightening. Again, I admonished myself for the lack of preparation, but there was another thought that brought together a more cohesive feeling; we had a possible plan, a trap for the demon that’d been following us.
We went into the field to the west of the building where there was only dirt beneath our feet in the early sunlight and in the coolness of morning air, I nearly felt like a person. The sun crested the horizon and brought with it a warmth that would quickly become overwhelming—in those few minutes though—it felt good enough. I wished for the shy dew and saw none. The weirdness of holding Andrew’s rotting hand in a jar momentarily caught me and I almost laughed, but refrained and the dog and the children looked on while I held the container up and suddenly, seeing the congealed mass of tissue floating in its own excretions, I was overcome with the urge to run, the urge that nothing would ever be right again in my life, and that I was marked to be that way.
I blinked and tossed the jar to Andrew. “Say goodbye,” I said. He fumbled after it with his right hand and caught it to his chest.
“It’s strange you care so much anyway,” said Gemma, shrugging—her eyes forgave a millisecond of pity and when Andrew looked at her, still holding the jar in his right hand, she smiled and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her pants.
“We’ve enough oil, I think,” my voice was raspy from it being early, “Enough for good fire, but if we use it, it’ll mean a few more dark nights on our way.”
“We’re going to set it on fire?” Andrew pondered, keeping his eyes to the contents of the jar. “It worked good enough last time. It’ll work,” I nodded, “I has to, doesn’t it?”
His dry lips creased into a brief smile, and he tossed the jar back to me and I caught it.
“Let’s dig,” I said.
Without much in the way of proper tools, we began at the ground under us with our hands, then taking turns with my prybar till there was a hole in the ground comfortably large enough to conceal a human head and I uncapped the jar and spilled it contents there and we covered it back and I lightly tamped it with my boot. My eyes scanned the outbuilding we’d taken refuge in the night prior and then to the street to the north then to the houses which stood as merely rotted plots of foundation with frames that struck from the ground more as markers than support. “I’ll take up over there across the street when it gets dark. I want you two in that storage room before anything goes off.”
“We can’t help?” asked Gemma.
“You can help by staying out of the way—the mutt too,” I said; the words were harsh, but my feelings were from worry.
“Wouldn’t it be better if we stuck together?” asked the girl.
I shook my head. “You stay in the room and keep quiet. No matter what you hear, you stay quiet and safe.”
“That’ll put you at a bigger risk,” Gemma furrowed her brow at me and shifted around to look out on the houses across the street, “There’s hardly any cover over there.”
The boy nodded, smacked his lips, and rubbed his forearm across his mouth then audibly agreed with her.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, “No matter what you hear happening outside, no matter, you don’t open the door and you don’t scream—don’t make a noise at all. Alright? Even if you hear me calling you, you don’t do it.”
“Pfft,” Gemma crossed her arms and kicked her foot against the ground. The way her eyes seemed hollowed with bruising showed that the irritation would only grow without food. “Alright,” she finally sighed.
Andrew looked much the same as she did in that; he swallowed a dry swallow then stuffed his hand into his pocket and looked away when our eyes matched.
We gathered our light oil. Altogether, it seemed enough; rummaging through the room of the outbuilding we’d earlier taken refuge within, we managed three intact glass containers—the only ones found that wouldn’t leak with liquid; two were bottles and the third was the jar that’d once kept Andrew’s hand. With that work done, we sat with three Molotov cocktails within our huddled circle of the storage room.
“Is it enough?” asked Gemma.
“We’ll see,” I began rolling a cigarette to ignore the hunger and the thirst.
Andrew took to the corner and glanced over his shoulder only a moment before a steady liquid stream could be heard and when he rotated from the wall once the noise was finished and he held a canteen up to his nose, sniffed it and quivered and shook his head.
As the sun pushed on, I scanned the perimeter outside, and they followed. Far south I spied a mass of shadow inching across the horizon and Gemma commented, “What’s that?”
I pushed the binoculars to her and let her gaze through them.
“A fiend—that’s what we called it back in the day anyway. A mutant.”
She held the binoculars up and frowned. “A mutant? So, it was once human?”
“A fiend was once many humans.” I pointed out to the horizon though she couldn’t see me doing so and continued, “If you look at the edges of its shape, you’ll see it’s got limbs galore on it. Sticking up like hairs is what it’ll look like at this distance. Those are arms and legs. It’s got faces too. Many faces.” I shuddered.
“I can barely see any details,” she passed the binoculars to Andrew, and he looked through them, “What’s it do?”
“What?” I asked.
“What’s it do if it catches a person?”
“It pulls people into it. Makes you apart of its mass. Nasty fuckers.”
Andrew removed the lenses from his eyes and held them to his chest and asked, “It won’t mess up your trap, will it?”
“We’ll keep an eye on it,” I said, “You don’t want to mess with a fiend unless you have to.”
First/Previous
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I was 115-120 back in 2020-2021 i’ve been weight lifting for almost 2 years my ass and legs look great my back is getting strong as well as my arms, i’m about 150 now but my belly fat will not go away I have love handles and even when i was skinny i had them just not as bad. I don’t know if it’s my bone structure that’s like that or if i actually just have love handles im not necessarily fat im healthy but i just can’t make my stubborn belly fat go away or at least make my waist look more shapely. Any tips?

I was 115-120 back in 2020-2021 i’ve been weight lifting for almost 2 years my ass and legs look great my back is getting strong as well as my arms, i’m about 150 now but my belly fat will not go away I have love handles and even when i was skinny i had them just not as bad. I don’t know if it’s my bone structure that’s like that or if i actually just have love handles im not necessarily fat im healthy but i just can’t make my stubborn belly fat go away or at least make my waist look more shapely. Any tips?

Imagine a dream bucket list filled with exciting adventures and unforgettable experiences that most people want to check off. This ultimate list might include visiting stunning beaches, exploring ancient ruins of historic civilizations, going on thrilling safaris, taking a hot air balloon ride, learning to surf, hiking to breathtaking mountain summits or experiencing local cultures through vibrant festivals. Now, imagine experiencing all these dream adventures in one incredible destination like Coffs Harbour. This coastal gem in Australia offers stunning beaches where you can relax and unwind. Explore Coffs harbor with Coffs harbor cruises, the nearby ancient rainforest and discover indigenous culture. The place has a variety of landscapes and fun things to do, making it perfect for checking off your dream bucket list!
What Are the Main Attractions of Coff Harbour?
Coffs Harbour, nestled on the east coast of Australia, have a myriad of attractions that draw visitors from all over the world. In fact, Coffs harbor sightseeing is like a literal representation of a fancy travel brochure! One of its iconic landmarks is the Big Banana, a giant sculpture that symbolizes the region's heritage in agriculture, particularly its history of banana farming. The Big Banana has become a popular tourist attraction, drawing visitors of all ages to explore the Big Banana Fun Park located nearby. There's an ice skating rink where you can glide across the ice, a thrilling water park with slides and splash zones for cooling off, and even a giant slide that promises an exhilarating ride. The park offers a blend of adventure and fun suitable for families and thrill-seekers alike. It's a must-visit spot for anyone exploring this coastal town in New South Wales, offering a fun-filled experience and a chance to learn about the region's agricultural heritage.
Coffs harbor sightseeing extends beyond just words if you are a nature lover or an outdoor enthusiast. If you enjoy marine life and snorkeling, the Solitary Islands Marine Park is a must-visit spot. This protected area is filled with diverse marine species, making it ideal for underwater exploration. For those who prefer lush rainforests and scenic hiking trails, Dorrigo National Park is the place to be. The park features stunning waterfalls and offers picturesque hikes like the Skywalk, where you can admire the canopy from above. Coffs Harbour is also famous for its beautiful beaches. Jetty Beach is perfect for swimming and surfing, while Park Beach offers scenic picnic spots and interesting rock pools to explore. If you're into birdwatching and panoramic coastal views, don't miss Muttonbird Island Nature Reserve. To immerse yourself in the local culture, visit the Coffs Harbour Jetty Markets, where you can browse local arts, crafts, and fresh produce. Throughout the year, the city hosts various events and festivals that celebrate its rich heritage and community spirit.
The Famous Coffs Harbor Cruises
You should know that one of the best things about Coffs Harbour is its stunning coastline along the beautiful Coff Harbour waters. Here, you have the option to take a walk along the beach or hike up the island for amazing views of the coast and surrounding areas. However, choosing the Coffs harbor cruises will do wonders to your adventure, truly! These cruises take you out onto the water to see dolphins, whales (during certain times of the year), and other marine life. It's an exciting opportunity to get up close to nature and enjoy the ocean views.
A Small Coastal Town For Huge Adventures!
There's so much to discover and enjoy in this beautiful coastal town! Each year, Coffs Harbour attracts thousands of tourists seeking its natural beauty and adventure. The peak tourist season is during summer (December to February) when the weather is warm and perfect for outdoor activities. However, Coffs Harbour enjoys a mild climate year-round, making it a great spot for travel enthusiasts at any time.
With its mix of outdoor adventures, cultural sites, and scenic beauty, Coffs Harbour is indeed a dream destination for those who love exploring a variety of landscapes and experiencing new activities in a relaxed coastal setting!

This is about to sound really dramatic, but bear with me. I was going through my old box of games (Mostly PS1/PS2/and DS) and found my old collection and I'm feeling nostalgic today, and I was reminiscing and I thought to myself just "wow". I played 1-10 countless times throughout my entire childhood. Anything after ten has been a "just once or twice" play through so Im not talking about those games as much. But I was thinking that I practically owe so much of my life to the franchise. When I was a kid my older brother taught me to read during a play through of 7, where he wouldn't press X until I read the entire line of dialogue. Then he made me do it for 8. My favorite thing was watching him play the games when I was little. My parents and home life was a really chaotic place, and it made me not love the world I live in, it made me not fit in with a lot of kids because their homes were more normal. When I say chaotic I more or so mean my moms place. At my dads he worked non stop so I was always alone and whenever he was home he'd just sleep or hang out in his room, at my moms apartment my brother was there for a while, but my mom was a drug addict, and I almost preferred when she wasnt home because when she was it was always some dramatic scene taking place. It affected my social life at school, most people knew about my mom, especially considering that she wasnt past throwing an embarrassing scene at my school and has done this several times. So I was a really lonely kid, especially after my brother left (military). I always wished that I could live in another world, and lived that fantasy out through the final fantasy games.
The second I got home from school id be playing one of the games, every summer id play through all of them. I pictured myself there, on some big adventure, with a big group of friends, making the world a better place. Weirdly enough even now I can feel my subconscious still looks at each character like an old friend. I realize looking back that most of the advice I got, and most of the influence that shaped a huge change in my personality is all thanks to them, even though each character was fictional they made me a really good person, or at least I hope so. Not everything from the games became who I am, but all of who I am can be found somewhere in them, if that makes sense. I don't really ever play them now, and I might do a mass replay soon, but I'm just sitting here a man in his mid 20s who used to hate the world and pretended like all these fantasy worlds was more my home than where I actually was. I did great as soon as I grew up, I have a nice house that I live with my two best friends in, a really great group of friends, and the confidence to believe in myself more each day. And I never realized I had the franchise to thank for getting me here.

Introduction
In today's competitive world, ensuring the best education for our children is paramount. As parents, we constantly seek schools that not only impart knowledge but also nurture the overall development of our little ones. In Noida, a bustling hub of education and innovation, the quest for the right school can be daunting. However, fear not! We're here to guide you through the maze of options and shed light on some of Noida's best school choices, with a special focus on Delhi World Public School.

1. Delhi World Public School: A Beacon of Excellence

Nestled in the heart of Noida, Delhi World Public School stands tall as a beacon of excellence in education. With its holistic approach to learning and state-of-the-art facilities, DWPS has carved a niche for itself in the educational landscape of the city. From modern classrooms equipped with smart boards to sprawling playgrounds that foster physical development, every aspect of DWPS is designed to provide a conducive environment for learning and growth.

1. Academic Rigor with a Global Perspective

At DWPS, academic excellence is not just a goal; it's a way of life. The school follows a rigorous curriculum that is designed to challenge students intellectually and foster a love for learning. With a faculty comprising seasoned educators and subject matter experts, DWPS ensures that every child receives personalized attention and guidance to unlock their full potential. Moreover, with its focus on global citizenship, the school exposes students to diverse cultures and perspectives, preparing them to thrive in an interconnected world.

1. Beyond the Classroom: A Multifaceted Approach to Education

Education at DWPS extends far beyond the confines of the classroom. The school believes in nurturing the overall development of students by providing a myriad of extracurricular activities ranging from sports and arts to music and debate. Whether it's participating in inter-school competitions or volunteering for community service projects, students at DWPS are encouraged to explore their interests and passions beyond academics. This holistic approach ensures that every child receives a well-rounded education that equips them with the skills and confidence to excel in all spheres of life.

1. Safety First: Ensuring a Secure Environment

As parents, the safety and well-being of our children are paramount. At DWPS, safety is not just a priority; it's a non-negotiable commitment. From stringent security protocols to regular safety drills, the school leaves no stone unturned in ensuring a secure environment for students. Moreover, with its dedicated team of counselors and support staff, DWPS provides a nurturing and inclusive space where every child feels valued and protected.

1. Parental Involvement: A Collaborative Partnership

At DWPS, we believe that education is a collaborative effort between the school, parents, and the community at large. We actively encourage parental involvement through regular communication channels, parent-teacher meetings, and workshops. By fostering a strong partnership between home and school, we ensure that every child receives the support and encouragement they need to thrive academically and emotionally.
In conclusion, when it comes to securing your child's future, choosing the right school is paramount. In Noida, Delhi World Public School emerges as a shining beacon of academic excellence, holistic development, and safety. With its unwavering commitment to nurturing young minds and shaping global citizens, DWPS stands tall as a symbol of hope and promise for the next generation. So, if you're looking for a school that not only educates but also inspires, look no further than Delhi World Public School. Your child's future awaits!

3. The Inner Quest - High Priestess:
Prompt: The Fool delves into their own subconscious, guided by inner intuition and wisdom. Explore the dreams, symbols, and revelations that shape the Fool's understanding of themselves.
*Probing Questions:

• What prompts the Fool to explore their own subconscious, and what methods do they use
  
• Are there recurring dreams or symbols that guide the Fool's inner quest?
  
• How does the Fool interpret the messages or revelations received from their subconscious?
  
• Are there challenges or obstacles in the Fool's journey within, and how do they overcome them?
  
• How does the inner quest impact the Fool's decisions and actions in the external world?
  

1. The World:
   Prompt: An adventurer completes a quest that spans across diverse landscapes and challenges. Explore the sense of fulfillment, closure, and the realization that every ending marks the beginning of a new chapter.
   Questions to Explore:
   

- What is the nature of the adventurer's quest and the challenges they face? - How does the completion of the quest bring a sense of fulfillment to the adventurer? - Are there symbolic elements representing the end of a cycle and the beginning of a new one? - How do the adventurer's experiences shape their worldview and future aspirations? - Are there hints or foreshadowing suggesting new adventures or challenges on the horizon? 

I know this sub is for Tinder or dating apps, and my life stories may not have a place here, but I have been following this sub for a long time. So, I wanted to share with you guys. I don’t think I was wrong, but let’s see your perspective too.
I have been a good academically and a decent person. I met so many good women in my life, too, whom I dated casually and had a few serious relationships. Except for two times, I exited those serious relationships very early because I didn’t feel anything, so we parted ways on good terms. But do baar mujhe pyaar hua. I will tell you about them only.
1.This is my first love and someone I have known since my childhood. She was the daughter of a relative (I mean my bua’s relative, actually). She used to study at my school too. In high school, she chased me for a year, and finally, I gave in. We started dating; it was my first love, and I was happy. Kasme, waade, sapne bohot dekhe. I was a sort of grounded person; I live in the present and enjoy it thoroughly, but she was futuristic with lots of promises and future dreams. "I will have your kids, we will travel the world," blah blah. I did everything to keep her happy. I used to cook for her, I used to write poems for her, we used to go on dates often, and we traveled. But one fine day, I got an invitation to a wedding. Guess what? It was her wedding. I had so many questions: why, how, when? But I got no closure. I never asked for it. I went to the wedding because it was a family thing, and yeah, I never looked back (this was my longest relationship).
2.After a few years and meeting so many people, I fell in love again. To be honest, this time we fell for each other during the initial conversations. Again, there were dreams, sapne, waade. She moved to North America for me, and we moved together into a single house. By this time, I had become a pro at cooking, so I used to go to study, then the office, then back home to cook something delicious for us. I can cook any cuisine irrespective of the continent or country. Till now, I have learned many other skills like piano and guitar, so I used to sing for her, play for her, and we used to dance together. Everything was good; we had mutual friends, and we knew a guy mutually. That guy didn’t like me, and I didn’t like him. I did have a problem with things because my ex told me he does not like me. But I don’t own her; I don’t own anyone. Actually, anyone can do anything in their life.
So, one fine day, I got a video message. It was them doing the deeds. I was shocked and broken and didn’t understand a thing. I tried to gather courage and be rational. She came back and was trying to talk to me. Then I told her I wanted to break up. She asked me why, and I said I was out of love. She started crying and begging, saying that she loves me. Then she started accusing me and some of my other female friends, implying something was going on. She said, "You used to love me and now want to throw me out. Where would I go? I came here from India for you," and all that stuff. I tried to control myself, but then I gave in and showed her the video. Then she was like, "I am sorry, I love you a lot. You are my life; I want to marry you. He made me drunk and took advantage of me. Please forgive me." At that point, I firmly decided this was it. I told her she could stay till she found accommodation, then I went to my friend's home and stayed there for a few days. But she kept pursuing me. I canceled the lease and changed my house; still, she did the same thing. During this whole ordeal, I had to change my house twice and delete my Instagram, and finally, now I am free.
I don’t know why all this happened. I don’t know what else I could have done so that they didn’t do that to me. Maybe I was not a good partner. There could be any other reasons. But I don’t hold any grudges against them. I wish wherever they are, they are happy.
These experiences were very important for me; they made me who I am today. I don't hold anything against anyone. These are just two instances. In my life, I have met so many amazing women and am friends with them too.
What’s next? I am kinda hopeful that I will find love. But Thik hai, nahi mila to mami Jo karegi Accha hi karegi. But whoever I have in my life, I will look for two qualities in them, no matter how they look or other things: loyalty and the ability to stand for what they believe in. If they leave, they should leave being brave and open about it. I don’t care about other things like distance, looks, status, or whatever else.
TL;DR: I've had a few serious relationships, but two major ones stood out. The first was with my childhood love who suddenly got married to someone else without any closure for me. The second was with someone who moved to North America for me, but she cheated on me with a mutual friend. After discovering this, I ended the relationship and had to move houses and delete social media to get away from her. These experiences were tough but important, shaping who I am today.

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📿 GOLDEN SWASTIKA

Golden Swastika is a Buddhist community that centers around normative and historical Buddhism as practiced by hundreds of millions of people around the world. It's a platform that was built as a safe space for all Buddhists of all schools worldwide.
Golden Swastika exists to be a solution to some of the problems facing Buddhist spaces online and in real life. Our mission statement directly addresses these three major problems.
🟡 MISSION STATEMENT

• 1. Preventing the Secularisation and Misrepresentation of Buddhism.

The rise of the mindfulness, new age and secular "buddhist" movements have led to a commodification of Buddhist practices in the west thanks to the rise of commercialization of Buddhist culture
This commercialization has led to a decontextualization of Buddhist practices and teachings, which has harmed the integrity and authenticity of the tradition in some western spaces. This made it so that sometimes, unfortunately, online buddhist spaces might have non-buddhist members outnumbering the real buddhist members. Which leads to misinformation and misconceptions spread unchecked.
But this community have created an environment where we can talk about buddhism, with proper moderation to prevent non-buddhist ideas or disinformation from getting away. Where we can openly talk about the marginalization facing Asian buddhists, and how Buddhism is culturally appropriated.
If you want to understand this topic better, here is more by Buddhiststuff and Eishin.
- 2. Creating a platform to give voice and power to normative Buddhism
Golden Swastika exists to fight against the modern colonial projects of culturally appropriating Buddhist cultures and call out ideas/people that perpetuate race essentialist and harmful power structures over people of color.
Buddhism and it's misrepresentations does not exist in a color-blind vacuum, and this is a space that is not afraid to talk about these issues. But many times this also comes in the form of just sharing what actual real Buddhism looks like in Buddhist-born families and countries.
- 3. Building a community that opposes both Bigotry and Sectarianism.
This space proudly opposes any form of Sectarianism and Bigotry. Golden Swastika, inspired by the dharma itself, strongly opposes hate of any kind. Racism, Xenophobia, anti-LGBTQ rtheoric etc. is not welcome here. This is a safe space, and a Buddhist one at that.
WE DO NOT TOLERATE HATEFUL APPROPRIATIONS OF THE DHARMA and we strongly oppose ANY FORM of race supremacy, nazism, colonialism, and ideologies that advocate political violence of any kind. Racism is the anti-thesis of Dharma. This community welcomes people from all ethnic and national backgrounds.
On top of that, this is a place for ALL kinds of Buddhists. Buddhists being, any legitimate lineage that earnestly follows the triple gems. Although it is inevitable that all people will have personal conclusions on which practices are good or bad, canon or not, we discourage the type of behaviour that is meant to attack or disparage a fellow buddhist tradition.
🧑 Why do you use a Swastika ❓
The swastika german nazis used were stolen from Dharmic religions and culturally appropriated.
But in truth, It is an ancient sacred symbol that represents the eternal cycle of life, theories of chakra, and the great footprints of Buddha. It is analogous with dharmachakra. It is extremely common to see it in Asia and Buddhist art.
Golden Swastika's soul is about not compromising Buddhism and Buddhist culture to appeal to western sensibilities and expectations. Swastika has been our symbol of peace for thousands of years before the Nazis appropriated it. Starting to use it back in its original meaning is the only way to recontextualise the symbol and educate people in the west of its true meaning.
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Huge thank you to Buddhiststuff, who was a reddit user that created this community, which now grew to have multiple branches all over the internet. Without him, none of this would have been possible.
sangha - A subreddit aimed at finding digital/pyhsical temples for Buddhists without temples and teachers. (temple guide)
NewBuddhists - Curated resources for beginners.
ReflectiveBuddhism - Created by one of the leaders of goldenswastika, MYkerman. A platform that enables political and race-critical critique of Buddhist spaces and the misrepresentation of the dharma.
WrongBuddhism - Created by one of the leaders of goldenswastika, Tendai-student (Eishin). A big resource of templates in the shape of individual posts that debunk various misconceptions surrounding Buddhism to be used as links or copy-paste material.
Goldenswastika's moderators entry on misconceptions surrounding Buddhism - By Buddhiststuff, Bodhiquest and others.
Join our Discord! Learn dharma, meet experienced practitioners, and make Buddhist friends! Run by Tendai-Student (eishin).
Kurosaki Buddhist - A TikTok influencer who is a member of GoldenSwastika, and showcases normative Buddhism on Tiktok.
Kermans Reflective - MYKerman's tiktok. Goldenswastika/ReflectiveBuddhism but in TikTok form.

I don't get how other women manage to find boyfriends that they love, and who love them. That propose to them, buy them gifts, have them meet their families, organize romantic dates for them, all while said women genuinely like the guy and are happy. Heck, some females even break up with guys even if there are mutual feelings and the relationship is decent, due to stupid reasons. Maybe the article that I read a few years ago saying that women with narrow pelvises struggle to find commitment more than femininely-shaped girls is true. Maybe I am just the safe option, since I cook, I clean, I'm always available, but don't spam anyone or stir up drama, and because of that, I am too boring.
Anyway, I am a 24F. And I never had a relationship where the guy loved me, and I loved him. I wasted 5 years of my life on a loser that was getting a kick out of a young woman being in love with him, who later tried to use me to get to Europe, and when that failed, he dumped me while I was pregnant. I found comfort with another guy, who gave me hope and showed me that I can still love men.
At first, I was cautious, since he told me not to catch feelings or get attached and I was freshly out of a relationship, but after 3 months of seeing him, he started acting in a more loving way, so I finally allowed myself to love him. That immediately caused him to ghost me for two weeks. Then, it turned out that he still has strong feelings for his ex-wife of 8 years. That I was literally the first woman that he managed to see more than once since she left him a few years ago, that he wanted to try moving on and opening himself up to someone else, hence the "girlfriend treatment", but couldn't bring himself to love me.
I thanked him for his honesty, told him that I was in a similar boat and also tried to force myself to love other guys when my first ex clearly wasn't into me, but to no avail. I wasn't even mad at him. I advised him to try and fix things with his former spouse, since it's clearly what he wants, and we both agreed that would be the best course of action for him. At least he didn't waste half of my youth or give me body image issues.
And here I am. 24F, single, and unable to trust any men. Unable to open up to them. People are telling me that I will find my person, but judging by my experiences and rejections, that is extremely unlikely. Add being divorced and suffering a miscarriage to the mixture, and my chances of finding mutual love and getting married are even smaller. I'm done with dating.

During Putin's visit to China, Putin was greeted with a grand and respectful welcome, highlighting the strongest diplomatic ties between Russia and China.
On the other hand, the USA is burdened with over $34 trillion. The Congressional Budget Office (CBO) projects that interest payments will total $870 billion in fiscal year 2024 and rise rapidly throughout the next decade—climbing from $951 billion in 2025 to $1.6 trillion. In the next decade, net interest payments will be over $12.4 trillion.
If I speak, the majority of typical Americans express their anger towards me and utilize offensive language. This is what I perceive as an authentic representation of American culture. The majority of American lack knowledge, exhibit ignorance, harbor hatred, lack respect, lack curiosity, and struggle to differentiate between right and wrong but are strongly opinionated. In essence, most American citizens prioritize their own desires, disregarding fundamental principles of civility and consciousness. To them, engaging in warfare equates to amusement and a stronger economy.
Following the Second World War, the United States experienced economic prosperity, leading to its emergence as an economic powerhouse. For that reason, most American believe warfare symbolizes power and pride. In contrast, throughout the Dark Ages, Europeans engaged in internal conflicts and launched three Crusades against Muslims, resulting in bloodbaths and destruction, not an economic powerhouse. The Europeans we witness today are a consequence of the deceptive foreign policies implemented by East India Companies in the name of trade rather than warfare. Similarly, the United States we observe today is a product of the "Good Faith financial product and trade currency Dollar," represented by the IMF and World Bank, rather than warfare. Warfare signifies destruction and permission to commit acts of violence and sexual assault.
During the Cold War, all US presidents made great efforts to avoid direct war with the Soviet Union. The rivalry between the Soviet Union and the USA began in the early 1919s, with communism reaching its peak. Both nations engaged in proxy wars using puppets rather than directly confronting each other, as the consequences would have been devastating. After the Cold War, the USA lacked a clear foreign policy, leading to uncertain world relations. The influence of foreign intelligence and lobbyists on the US media can make it challenging to grasp the political landscape. There are concerns that the media shapes the image of US politicians and influences policy decisions and public opinion. Additionally, there are allegations that the media promotes certain candidates and perpetuates false narratives.
As of today, in the first quarter, China sold a significant amount of Treasury and US agency bonds, indicating the country's strategy to diversify its assets away from American holdings amidst ongoing trade tensions.
My prediction was the USA would crash in 2032.

I feel silly even thinking about this but it's been several years since I first played Adastra and I have gone through the same kind of PAD I think anyone in this sub reddit has. I was obsessed with this visual novel for some time and it kind of shaped what I wish I had in a relationship. I'm a 30 year old guy, with a condition called Arthrogryposis, who has had his fair share of relationships but nothing concrete or as deep as Marco and Amicus, to the point I feel like my physical disability gets in the way of finding it. I constantly wonder if wishing for that kind of relationship is even feasible. I'm not talking about royalty or sci-fi or any of that stuff, But the tangible realness to their relationship. As if brought together by a divine person or power and not just a fling or whatnot. Someone who just compliments the other person so completely that they can't imagine being without their other half. The more I want to experience that kind of love the more I feel empty or lonely.

-by Swami BV Tripurari
The theistic mystic reasons that it is better to exist to love than to love to exist. The latter that is the ideal of the monist is included in the former. The theistic mystic reaches this conclusion merely from examining the nature of human experience. If consciousness is the unseen mover of the world, it moves in pursuit of love. That is to say that we move in search of love and cannot rest until we find it. Our human experience is love-driven. Unfortunately, that which we repose our love in is temporal, unlike our consciousness-self. We may withdraw our attention from the external world and focus on the world within, concluding that the full face of love is indeterminate self-love that gives rise to universal compassion and is arrived at through deep self/consciousness exploration. But this is the position of nontheistic mystics. Theistic mystics agree that the mere appearance of an “other” arising out of material names and forms is false. However, based on their everyday experience, theistic mystics conclude that our pursuit of love need not end in silence, stillness, and the experience of absolutely no “other.” They are driven further than nontheistic mystics in pursuit of love. They see a consciousness-self in pursuit of its potential to love looking for that love in the wrong place—in matter rather than within consciousness itself, deep within the subjective world.
Thus they conclude that there must be a “consciousness-constituted other” in which to repose one’s loving propensity. In other words, theistic mystics pursue differentiation within the unity of consciousness, a determinate—saviśeṣa—consciousness center rather than an indeterminate—nirviśeṣa—one. Drawing on the sacred text of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, such theistic mystics seek Bhagavān (the personality of the Godhead) rather than Brahman. They reason that Brahman is derived from Bhagavān because in order to love one must exist, and Brahman represents the Godhead’s face of existence. It is likened to the aura of Bhagavān. From concentrated sac-cid-ānanda, an undifferentiated, less condensed aura of consciousness emanates. Brahman is the halo of Bhagavān, who is the ever-still Brahman moving. Brahman that is everywhere—the underlying ground of being—has nowhere to go should it decide to move. But Bhagavān is Brahman in motion, and that motion is love-driven. In love, all contradictions are resolved. In love, faults turn into ornaments, and the impossible is entirely possible.
However, one theistic mystic may have an experience that appears at odds with the experience of another. Are the differences a result of cultural projections from the objective world being thrust on transcendence that in reality is nirviśeṣa? Or do such differences represent ontological truths of the super-subjective realm—the many facets of the Godhead? We take the latter position and acknowledge that the Godhead is multifaceted, appearing as various avatāras or personified spiritual emotions of the Godhead that correspond with the love of his devotees. In Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, these facets are said to be asaṅkhya (uncountable). They all engender nuanced expressions of majestic, or in the case of Kṛṣṇa, intimate love of God, and there is no reason to believe that they do not extend cross-culturally.
If the theistic reports are grounded in an ego-effacing spiritual tradition, it is reasonable to conclude that the differences that arise in different mystics’ approaches to exploring consciousness constitute the result of the love-driven nature of their pursuit. The love of the child for the father causes the father to take a shape that the child can relate to, even when it means that the father crawls on his hands and knees and pretends to be a horse. Variety based on love is the spice of the consciousness world, a variety that does not compromise its nondual nature.
The theistic mystic reports variegated experience in transcendence and personal individuality that results from replacing the objective brain/mind interface with a consciousness-constituted interface that affords one experience of other consciousness-based realms, in which time and space do not rule, and in which logic from the objective world of material experience does not hold up. This interface is bhakti proper, constituted of the essence of Kṛṣṇa’s svarūpa-śakti. Suffice to say herein that the theistic mystic sees through spiritual eyes anointed with the salve of love.
One’s potential for love is fully realized in relation to Bhagavān—the Godhead. The Gaudiya Vaisnava position is that amongst the many faces of the Godhead, Kṛṣṇa is svayaṁ bhagavān—Bhagavān left to himself to love without reservation, with no reverential gap between himself and those who love him. The gap between worshiper and object of worship is bridged as the two become one in love. Such love is so absorbing that Kṛṣṇa practically loses sight of his divine existence, thereby facilitating the union of intimacy between the ātmā and himself. Here we find that the union between our consciousness constituted source and ourSelves as an atomic unit of consciousness is held together by love, the consciousness of consciousness." The end.