Bulletin boards and door displays for kindergarten

First off, 2002 GTI 1.8T, 2 door with rear seats removed. Mechman 370 Amp Alt. XS Power D4700 in the engine bay, D3100 in the trunk. Alpine CDE-175BT, 5v preouts. 2 CT-Sounds Meso 12" 1500 Watt RMS, wired to 1 ohm, in ported box tuned to 35 hz. Previously powered by Taramps Bass 3k. 4 Sets Meso 2 Way Components, 2 in rear, 2 in QLogic Kick Panels. CT-Sounds CT80.4AB for speakers. DS18 BKVR Bass Knob. Kilmat where needed (I'm aware, not the best, but seemed to hold up for my needs in the previous car).
My old beater Grand Am took a dump on me, do I pulled the good out of it and decided why not throw it in my little GTI and do it better this time.
Still running wiring and getting speakers installed, plus waiting on my little brother to build me a new box since the old one got excited and ended up wet.
I'll be doing the Big 4 with Sky High 1/0 Gauge OFC.
Planning for doubling everything up and having 2 1/0 runs from Alt to Battery, both power and ground. 2 1/0 runs from front to rear battery. 2 1/0 grounds, yadda yadda, you get the drift.
Question is, my taramps is a few years old at this point and I'm thinking of upgrading. I'm eye balling the newer Big Boss 3 from Taramps. But I've also thought about going with CTs ATv2 3000.1d.
As the title suggests, looking for opinions. I know brazillian boards are hungry little power houses. I also know CT gets theirs from China. This is more for a daily driver set up than competition.
Or sell me on something else. Budget is kinda up in the air, although I'd prefer keeping it under $600.

1330 Terran Front Fleet Time
On the Turinika homeworld, the first signs of unrest began to manifest like a wave, The broadcast of the most esteemed Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata, Taratanti of the roost Kazatalak, openly performing the act of Kavsa had been met with shock. The last Taratanti who had voluntarily performed Kavsa had done so in protest of the treatment of the Kulorn caste, nearly two thousand years prior. It was an ancient rite, one that signified rejection of the greatest shame. Even more shocking than the act itself was the evidence that had followed it. Visuals of species, brought into the Conclave, not as migrant workers as had been believed, but as slaves, was met with an almost immediate attempt at censorship. This attempt failed spectacularly, mostly due to those who had been tasked to censor the information not only refusing to follow the command, but openly declaring that they had been ordered to do so. A situation that was already, as the humans would say, out of hand, spiraled completely out of control. Within only twenty minutes of the ending of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s broadcast entire cities entered a state of absolute anarchy. Two planetary capitals were stormed and taken by the furious civilian population, demanding the location of those who had been enslaved. The Turinika Armada, which even then was in the middle of a training session meant to prepare the fleet to withstand the Terran Front’s assault, began to cease operations. Within the hour, the entire armada would be recalled to the turnika homeworld. Those who did not take to the streets simply stopped whatever work they were doing and went to their homes to be around their brood. Images of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata with his stripped wings spread wide in front of the human fleet commander were on every news fed of the Conclave, as was the sound of his thunderous voice, and the wails of despair from a turinika female that couldn’t be seen. Close ups of the human fleet commander’s face were shown, with analysts remarking on the shock, horror, and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the Seventh Orion War, the female human known as Simmons had been reported to have made several threats towards the turinika, she had quickly become seen as a warmonger, ready to take revenge against the turinika for refusing to go to war and violate their principles of pacifism. Now the images of her lunging forward to stop the violation of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s plumage, the agonized expression of her face, and the true reason for her threats against the turinika were rapidly reversing her image. On far flung deep core mining stations and agricultural stations, on deep space stations dedicated to material processing, and in other areas hidden from the sight of the normal turinikan population, overseers and taskmasters felt their hearts run cold at the knowledge that very soon, their part to play in the willful enslavement of another species would be known to the wider Conclave. As the data package transmitted alongside the broadcast were fully decompressed and the scale of the Conclave’s government’s involvement was revealed, the entirety of the Conclave itself was teetering on the verge of absolute pandemonium. The image of a member of the kolra species, from the look of it barely a hatchling, quickly was becoming the face of the entire incident. The picture was absolutely damning, and the sight of the image had sent any who saw it instantly into contorting and painful displays of shame. The young kolra was sprawled on it’s stomach, looking to the one taking it’s picture with eyes that had no life in them. It’s shell covered it’s back, and despite the age of the kolra it was already dulled and scuffed. The foot pressing down on the shell was unmistakably familiar to those who saw it, the clawed feet of a turinika. Within the hour, billions of winged figures stood in streets, the normally soft spoken and passive species demanding action, demanding justice, on the hundred worlds of the Turinika Conclave. The bulk of the Taratanti caste, most of whom had been left in the dark of the truth of the situation, quickly went public with their own declaration of outrage, and the eyes of the entire species turned inwards to the mountainous homeworld of their species.
Hakuri Watanabe looked down at his helmet before putting it on his bed, the stylized SEVEN seeming to stare at him. He sat down in his chair and picked up a small cloth from his buffing kit. No one knocked on his door, in fact, mostly he and the rest of his squad were left alone before a major operation. They were just given their time, time to mentally prepare. Some of his squad would go over their mission briefing, some, like him, would spend their time doing something to relax themselves. Hakuri always found that taking care of his suit calmed him considerably. Granted he could simply turn it over to the squads armorers to be tended to and they would do as good of a job as he could, but he preferred it to be done by his own hand. The symbol of a triangle was on his form fitting shirt, the symbol of his special operations command unit. He was known as a Myrmidon, but the official title of his unit was Section Three. He knew this, his superiors knew this, and as far as Hakuri knew, most of the Terran Front was aware of his unit’s existence, but past that, they knew very little about what he actually did. As far as his mother knew, Hakuri was a pencil pusher onboard the TFS Berlin, the troop mothership that all of his letters were sent from. He thought about writing her, but then again, he only liked to do that when he returned from a mission, not when he was expecting to go to one. If he tried to write her when he was waiting, he would just get anxious, and homesick. That wouldn’t do when he was dropping into a combat zone. That wouldn’t do at all. Hakuri instead started to buff his helmet, waiting for the word to come down which meant they were prepared to jump. A glance at the clock made him pause in his circular rotations. The clock said 1330. Operation Naked Sun was about to begin.
Tika was on his side, Kzia standing at the end of the medical bed that had been adjusted for his turinikan physiology. He felt cold in more ways than one. For his people, clothing was more of a decoration than a necessity, but without his protective plumage he felt the cold stabbing him through to his hollow bones. His diplomatic access was already gone, his privilege access revoked. He heard the broadcast for a preparation to jump, but he wasn’t truly listening. There was no question in his mind he had made the right decision. There was no question at all. One of the humans, a nurse, came to his side and gently laid a heavy blanket over him. The human’s hand lingered on his trembling body for a few moments before it was removed, and Tika glanced in their direction. The female was one of the ones who had responded first to the call for medical service for him, had heard what had happened and why. Tika had gotten very used to being glared at on this ship. He was hated, and he knew it. He knew he had deserved it. He was a party to the vral’s enslavement of the humans, the chua, and far too many others. When he had come to Thermopylae station, he had not even given that fact a single thought. He was born into power, being of the Taratanti. He belonged to the most powerful species and government in the entire quadrant of the galaxy. His people, while mighty, did not seek to use it. To him, they had simply been above it all. When the vral had approached him with the offer to sell captured species at first TIka had wanted to reject it out of hand, but a few had told him to go through with the sale. Such was the nature of this galaxy, or so he had believed. The weak were at the whims of the strong, and one’s place in the galaxy was determined only by the power they could wield. The turinika were not nearly the first to have taken a species and used it for slave labor, and while Tika did not approve of the deal, he had not fought it either. As he looked back to the wall, he remembered what the humans had taught him these last days. When he had arrived in Thermopylae he had assumed he would find the chua species to have been at the very least regulated to a subservient role, if not outright enslaved. Finding them sharing power was a curiosity. He had expected to be treated with all the honor and dignity that his station demanded, that the power of his government demanded. Fleet Marshal Simmons had disabused him of that, and had left him humiliated and shamed. As he had laid in the dark as Simmons had declared the Seventh Orion War, covered in his own filth, feeling as if at any moment he was going to be killed he knew true fear and horrific uncertainty for the first time in his life. He had never faced these emotions, these sensations before. He had always been in power. He had stood with the full might of the Turinika Conclave behind him. He had never known anything other than the superior position. Now, as he lay in the hospital bed, staring at the wall, he was ashamed of how arrogant, how blind, and how short sighted he had been. After he had risen from his own filth, he had desperately tried to convince his leadership of the strength of the Terran Front, how it matched or eclipsed their own. The Conclave was not the unchallenged power in the quadrant anymore. The terrans, the human and chua, had somehow defied fate. They had not fallen to the vral after ninety years of near constant conflict, and now if Tika was right they had come out of it nightmarishly stronger than before. Tika had actually begged to be heard by his superiors, and he had never come close to that once in his life. The chua homeworld however, had fully broken him. If he had not been on the Antares, had not been humbled beforehand, he knew that he would have just clapped his hands together and said that it was delightful. As the transmission from the chua homeworld had come in, and the rescue effort had begun, he could only wallow in his own shame. He had profited directly from the chua’s suffering, the human’s suffering. Again he had tried, and failed, to convince his people, and again he had failed. Being on the Antares, for him, was torture. The lights were too dim, every human and chua looked at him with nothing more than loathing and contempt, his entire worldview had been shattered from the way he viewed the galaxy to his own place in it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shadow of Simmons standing over him, her voice cold with a lethal rage, hearing her voice echo in his mind, seeing the glint from flashes of light shining in her eyes. ‘We Know.’ echoed in his mind in his sleep, the voice of the terrifying Fleet Marshal transforming into the sound of a vengeful god demanding compliance and promising retribution. Then he had watched the humans and chua, who he knew were preparing to go to war with his people, celebrating the return of the shesvie. Once more he had expected them to be integrated into the Terran Front, but as soon as he learned Simmons offer to them, and what it had entailed, he had been called to his room to answer the latest message from his people. Once again, his people had doubled down, the knowledge of the enslavement of the humans had been suppressed, and once more Tika found himself, and his people, standing against a Terran Front that had every justification to declare war, to right the wrongs that had been done to them. All the while, he knew something else. He knew that, after everything he had seen, that his people would lose. The turinika had not been to war for nearly two thousand years. His people were not ready for what the Terran Front could do, and after seeing what they had done to the vral so far, he knew his people were not ready for what the Terran Front would do. He was afraid of the dark. Tika was absolutely terrified of it now, because now he knew the monsters were real. Simmons had shown him that, but the humans, the chua, they were not the monsters. He was. He had refused to be one any more. He had announced his intentions to his staff, who had squalled in rejection, all but three. Kzia was the first to step to his side, Kikumot and Tziki had stepped forward as well. Never, in his most nightmarish dreams, did he ever think that he would stand in front of Simmons and voluntarily have his plumage stripped from him, performing the act of Kasva. He never thought that his staff would have ever compiled and transmitted the data package they had sent. He had never thought that he would betray his people, if only to save them. Simmons had changed that, the humans had changed that. He knew the terror of the dark, he knew fear for his people’s safety, he understood the horror of war, and for the first time in his long life he could truly look back at every interaction he had had, with every species, that had asked for help in their struggle for survival against the vral and truly understand their fear and desperation. Now he lay, his plumage stripped from him, his station revoked, his status removed, surrounded by a people who despised him. He wouldn’t have it any other way now. He knew that they would listen now, if not to him, then to the civilian masses of the Conclave that would not stand for what they had done. He prayed to the Great Mother often now, shivering in the dim light, hoping that it would be enough. He had been wrong, and in his error he had sullied his own people. He had made them complicit. Even now, he did not know how they would ever be forgiven, because right now he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive himself. As he heard the broadcast calling out on the ship, announcing one minute to jump, he felt a hand on his side, and looked up to the human nurse. She was smiling at him. Not a smile born of malice, or anger, but a genuine smile. She patted his side lightly, then turned to walk out of the room. For not even the twentieth time since he had come onboard Thermopylae, he was mystified by these people.
The bridge of the Dhampir was thrumming with music and the vibrations of the reactor and Conrad leaned forward in his chair mount, his eyes almost feral as he looked at the empty space that was the mandeville point. He was positively chomping at the bit. Batz was positively roaring the lyrics to the song that was blaring over the ships speakers. Rev and Dev sat side by side in their mounts, throwing their hands up in time with the pounding bass beat of the sound. Towns was the only one besides Conrad that was quiet, both of them looking towards the mandeville point with complete impatience. Conrad felt like jumping from his skin. Fidget, well, fidgetted, holding his hands over his headset and listening as if he were trying to hear secret messages in the music. They were ready, their pulses were racing. The crew of the Dhampir was positively vibrating. Conrad looked to the shipboard clock, seeing 1330 displayed, and his head snapped to Fidget, waiting for the word. They were going to run, they were going to chase, they were going to hunt.
Vicky sat back, looking towards Jess and Kukat as they slept. Jess was in her chair, Kukat in her medical bed. Vicky glanced back at the block print on the paper and read it for the fifth time. She read the individual lines, one at a time, cursing their existence. After reading through the message printed she let her hand hang again. Kukat would be released from medical tomorrow, and both her and Jess still thought they would be boarding the Thumper to join the Vellacore once more. Jess had talked non-stop about her quarters on the Vellacore the past few days, how she just wanted to be back in her room. Kukat was equally excited. Only Vicky didn’t share their excitement. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know about their battlefield promotions, they didn’t know about their reassignments, they didn’t know the days of them working together were functionally over. Vicky looked down at her hand holding the paper again, and felt like crumpling it. She had lost her crew. She had lost them not due to negligence, or time, she had lost them to fame. Kukat was to be promoted to ensign, and was to be the sensor officer on the destroyer Hadrian, Jess was getting the same promotion, her station on the cruiser Victorious. Vicky? She was the sparkling new commanding officer of a destroyer that was arriving at Thermopylae in two days, the Quarrel. She never wanted this. She had turned down promotion after promotion that would take her from the cockpit of the Thumper, away from Kukat, away from Jess. She wanted to serve in this war in her own way, as a pilot, with the two who had made her life so enjoyable. Now though, they were to be split up, and there was nothing she could do about it. These promotions hadn’t come from simple seniority, they had come from High Command, as had the orders. Tomorrow, when Kukat was released, they would be ushered into the hanger bay of the Barrowmore. They would all three be awarded the Star of Terra, then they would be reassigned. Tonight was the last night they would all be together. Vicky wanted to wake them up, she wanted to tell them, to give them a chance to process it. As she looked to Kukat and Jess she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She held up the letter again, reading the first few lines, then she felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, her heart panging with sadness, and stared at the wall. The clock read 1330.
Corporal Brandy was sitting on the small rack, with Janet Shippen sitting between his legs using his thighs as armrests. They were both dressed for the first time in the last few hours, both of them staring at the clock. This close to the reactors they could feel them beginning to spool up for the trip through hyperspace. When the news of the operation had come down they had elected to spend as much time together as possible, which Brandy had enjoyed to no end, and he had made sure Janet had as well. Brandy had even taken some time to reach out to his sister Victoria, a rarity for them both, as since they were children they were often barely able to speak to each other simply due to schedules. He had even told her about Janet, and although he hadn’t gotten a response from his sister yet he already knew what she would say. Janet nestled back against him, but he could feel her body was stiff. Neither of them knew what the next few months were going to hold. Their time together might be constricted, in fact, this might be the last few moments they were together for quite awhile. Brandy’s Ghouls were specialists, ship boarders. Chances are he was going to be extremely busy, as was she. He didn’t quite know how he felt about Janet, but he did know that beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t want to be away from her. Judging from how she was acting, she felt the same as him, conflicted about her relationship with him, but not wanting to be apart. He knew what he needed to tell her, that he had to get up, that he had to leave. The Ghouls were going to be assembled at 1345, ready to board. Her unit was going to be prepared at the same time, to begin taking on salvage. Her hands were like clamps on his legs, and from how tense she was, he wasn’t going to get up until she was good and ready. The clock on the wall switched to 1330. He stared at the clock, feeling like the clock was mocking him, when suddenly Janet leaned up and turned. Her hands took hold of his shoulders and she threw her body against his, her lips finding his own. Her arms wrapped around her frame and he tightened his grasp on her.
Simmons spread her hands over the panel in front of her, looking at the table. Seven points connected the recently reclaimed chua space to what was former Shesvie territory, and beyond that, the heart of the Vral Empire. Her lip curled in a wicked smile, On the digital display of the table the hyperspace lanes, and more importantly, the avenues of attack her fleet was preparing to take. She held out her hand, all five fingers splayed over the lanes, envisioning the war as it stood now. The war to come. Seven hyperspace lanes, seven systems, branching out into sixteen, branching out again to another twenty. The Antares herself was going to link up with the Barraki, and was set to simply plough through the next five systems to do so. Slowly she tightened her hand into a fist as she looked along the hyperspace lanes, seeing task forces lined up and ready to jump. Drones had already been sent through. The vral had forces along the border, but nothing that could withstand what was to come. Her fleet was ready. She was ready. The Seventh Orion War was at the end of it’s first month, and had taken back six systems. The first moves of Operation Naked Sun would double that and exceed it, then double it again. She had already given her speech, her task force commanders were ready. High Command had taken it’s time making this decision, and while she had railed against the delay that didn’t matter now. All along the front, individual task forces were joined into larger fleets, ready to jump into the next system and eliminate any vral defenses, but unlike now, they simply would not wait. Naked Sun was to be a lightning strike to cut off as much of the Vral Empire as possible, to deny them their own space, to imprison them on their own worlds. Task Forces were designed around three types of vessels combinations, Lighthammer Task Forces were comprised of corvettes and fast destroyers, the fastest vessels in the fleet, meant to take systems quickly, to devastate unprotected infrastructure, and to eliminate light resistance. Simply put, they were going to swarm into vral space, determine pockets of resistance, and move on. They were going to rip entire sections of vral space from them, calling in other task groups if needed. Thunder task groups were the primary capital fleets, meant to be sent into those pockets of resistance, and neutralizing them, joining with the Lighthammer groups if needed. The cruisers, carriers, battleships, they all belonged to these task forces. Her own task force was called the Nova task force, and it comprised only the Antares and it’s sizable fleet escort. Simmons glanced up at the clock, the time was 1329. She breathed in slowly, then unbidden the thought came to her head and she looked to the report from the two habitable planets that had been scanned by the drone cutters, the information having been relayed to her almost twenty minutes prior. She was not worried about the ground campaign, in fact a reserve fleet from Thermopylae would be the ones to escort the landing ships from planet to planet that her fleet left behind in it’s wake, isolated and defenseless from the wider Vral Empire. Fleet escorting was no longer her job, protecting ground invasions were no longer her job. Simmons was positively growling now, as her only job was to take her fleet and use it to rip the vral out of the stars. Still, the thought nagged at her. On both of the planets that her fleet was set to overrun, there were Vral ships in orbit. On the first, there was evidence that the Vral had been bombarding a small area of the surface, extremely similar in size to the hole that now existed on Zvitia, the planet that even now was being integrated into the Terran Front. In the second system it showed Vral ships in orbit, but whatever they were doing during the time they had taken the scans, whatever they were covering up, they didn’t seem to have gotten to it yet. On the radiological scan of the planet a massive bloom of electromagnetic energy painted a broad region of the planet blistering white. She had sent the images back to Earth, back to High Command, but no one seemed to know what was happening. The one thing that every analyst agreed on so far that was that whatever the blooms represented, it meant nothing good. She took another long look at the radiological scan, seeing the intensity of the radiation, and her lip curled in a snarl. She couldn’t think about that right now, but orders had already been given to notify her the moment that they had taken a planet that still bore the radiation signal. The vral were being damned fastidious about it though. She pulled her thoughts away from it, looking back to the hyperspace lanes. The slow grin entered her features again. She glanced at the clock. 1330. Her hand took hold of the receiver next to her station and she pressed the transmission stud, knowing that Hazard had already opened a channel to the wider fleet.
“Commence.”

I just had an awesome D&D game and I think my friend who was also the GM is both low key and high key an absolute genius.
Because, she came up with a brilliant campaign. I would love if Ludwig did something similar, I think it would make great content.
This occurred because her original party had some drama and split (which was why they didn't let me film it or reveal any identities. But, OMG I wish I could have because it was the best and funniest campaign I've seen in all 15 years of my playing this game.)
So being the geeks we are we settled the argument with a D&D duel... but a party vs. party duel. (I was called to fill in because someone rage quit over some other drama and they needed to keep the party numbers even. We are playing 4 vs. 4) She has essentially created a PVP version of D&D.
The campaign is: The city has been besieged by random monsters who keep appearing out of mysterious portals. So the Mayor has offered a thousand gold reward to the adventurers who kill the most monsters, thus thinning their numbers and keeping them at bay. Plus gold bonuses for reaching a certain amount of monster kills e.g. 100, 200, 1000. or for killing particular bosses.
However, kills can only be monsters. If you kill an NPC/townsfolk it is still considered murder. This and any other crime still applies if someone reports it to the city office and of course bounties will be put on anyone who commits a crime.
If caught, and jailed then found guilty you can be fined the 100g diamond dust each to resurrect the murdered (as long as their body is retrieved) or you will be executed if you cannot pay the fine(s). You can only claim the prize money or access the bank if your ledger is clear of any crimes.
We are playing the campaign on endless mode so we allow resurrection of party members, rescue from executions and buying new identities/re-rolling characters if you do get caught or killed but if you want to limit that, you can just end their character's story and have the player help the GM act out citizen NPCs when their character gets caught or killed. The other team...I mean ANYONE can claim the gold bounty if they assist in the capture of any criminal character. (We are also playing with friendly fire on, but that, again, is optional.)
To keep track of these kills/murders each team is assigned a guide played by the gm and given an enchanted bracelet (much like an iwatch). We used bards as the guides, but any class will do. This guide is a bit like a police officer or park ranger they show the adventurers around, they can be asked about knowledge of the terrain, city lore or rules of the tournament at any time. They also report back to the Mayor and enforce any rules/laws. (They can be killed, threatened or bribed but then they could also report you for the crimes or it could registered on the "enchanted bracelet" as a murder.) They are however a non-active party member who stays back away from the combat and offers minimal assitance when in town they go home or to the townhall head office to make reports and leave the adventurers to their plots and schemes.
You can claim the bonus gold or bounties at any time but only if you are in the city bank, there are no outstanding murders/crimes registered against you or a party member, and your guide is alive and around to verify it.
Here is the genius part, she runs each session turn based, team 1 one session then team 2 one session.
Here is where the game gets super fun: During your session, teams can sabotage each other as much as they want. Feed misleading intel to the citizens, plot assassinations of other party members, set traps, frame other party members for crimes, any shenanigans the players can think of to slow or eliminate the other party members is allowed. (My team this round divised a mail bomb which plays "pop goes the weasle" then fires an explosive weasel at their face. Which will be delivered to the other team next session.)
You can also come up with defenses or counter measures. Or you can get down to the business of racking up as many monster kills as possible by exploring the near by caverns or patrolling the city walls.
The other thing that was genius, is my friend set up a huge monitor and had AI generated art of things we described as we played, displayed on the screen in HD... so you immediately got some very vivid, graphic and bizarre images of the most random things. Like a weasle firing out of a jack in the box. 🤣
We also had a printer and laminator so that whenever an NPC, monster or even our own characters were described we could AI generate an image print it, laminate it and make it an instant token for the board.

It's okay to record, post and monetize (as long as you don't put it behind a paywall), just credit me.
Feel free to tweak it, change the roles and pronouns, correct my orthography, just don't change it too much.
Feedback is appreciated.
“hehehe, today is the day”
[pause]
“Finally, after months of frustration and failed attempts”
[pause]
“Today is the day I'll scare him!!!”
[pause]
“I'm sure he is going to say, “oh no a scary ghost, I have to leave this haunted place immediately”, and he will leave my house”
[pause]
“...”
[pause]
“He... is... late today...”
[pause]
“He is never this late”
[pause]
“Could it be that something has happened to him?”
[pause]
“What if he died?”
[pause]
“He better not have died before I had a chance to scare him”
[pause]
(SFX: keys on the door)
“Oh, there he is”
[pause]
“Okay, put you bag down, just like that and now...”
(SFX: door slams)
“ohohoho, I bet that scared him a lot!!!!”
[pause]
“...”
[pause]
“He isn’t even startled...”
[pause]
“Fine, time to get serious”
[pause]
“I’ll turn off the lights as soon as he walks into the kitchen”
[pause]
“One...”
[pause]
“Two...”
[pause]
“Three...”
[pause]
“That should do it”
[pause]
“What?”
[pause]
“No!!!!”
[pause]
“It isn’t your lightbulb, when has it been your lightbulb in the past six weeks?”
[pause]
“it’s me, it’s always been me”
[pause]
“See me!!! Fear me!!!”
[pause]
“What do I have to do, push you down the stairs?”
[pause]
“Actually, scratch that, last time you almost died”
[pause]
“Oh, he is about to sit, maybe I could...”
[pause]
(SFX: chair moves)
[pause]
“The chair moved on its own, surely you at least found that weird, right?”
[pause]
“No!! No!! No!! No!!”
[pause]
“don’t just sit on the chair...”
[pause]
“This wasn’t this difficult in the 80’s”
[pause]
“What is he doing now?”
[pause]
“Instant ramen again?”
[pause]
“He really should stop eating that”
[pause]
“It can’t be good for him”
[pause]
“I wonder what they taste like thought”
[pause]
“Idea, I'll turn on the stove and overboil his noodles”
[pause]
“As soon as he looks away...”
[pause]
“now”
[pause]
“What do you think about that mister I fear nothing”
[pause]
“What is he doing?”
[pause]
“You are just going to leave with the stove turned up like that?”
[pause]
“Well, I'm not turning it down...”
[pause]
“it’s starting to boil...”
[pause]
“And now is boiling...”
[pause]
“And now is spilling!!”
[pause]
“Hey!!! Can't you hear it?”
[pause]
“don’t you care about your soup? your pot? the kitchen? Your safety?”
[pause]
“fine”
[pause]
“I'll turn it off gee”
[pause]
“There you are, the kitchen could have burn you know?”
[pause]
“And you are just going to serve the noodles and move on, because of course you are”
[pause]
“What do I have to do?”
[pause]
“I have tried all the tricks, moving objects, making things disappear, weird noises, turning the lights on and off”
[pause]
“I would appear outside your bedroom wearing a bedsheet at this point”
[pause]
“I would lose my pride as a ghost if I did that”
[pause]
(sight)
“What to do? What to do?”
[pause]
“Hey where did you go?”
[pause]
(SFX: tv turning on)
“Oh, it is that time of the day”
[pause]
“Hey, what are we watching?”
[pause]
“Is it cartoons?”
[pause]
“Ugh, I can’t stand this campy 80’s horror movies, I didn’t like them when they were new, and I don’t like them now”
[pause]
“If you don’t change the channel I will”
[pause]
“Excuse me, did you just flinch?”
[pause]
“Oh no, you are not getting scared watching this garbage?”
[pause]
“You really just screamed?”
[pause]
“Okay, that is it”
[pause]
“What was that trick jerry the poltergeist taught me back in 09?”
[pause]
“haven’t had to do this in a while”
[pause]
(SFX: static noises)
“Hey...”
[pause]
“Hey...”
[pause]
“HEY!!!!!”
[pause]
“Yes, I’m talking to you”
[pause]
“No, this is not part of your movie, your terrible, terrible, stupid movie, I really am talking to you”
[pause]
“what’s the big idea dude?”
[pause]
“For weeks I have been moving chairs and slamming doors, without even getting a single reaction out of you”
[pause]
“Just to see you get scared and literally scream watching a boring 80’s horror movie, that aged like milk”
[pause]
“Point is, not cool”
[pause]
“of course, is only now that you realize I’m here, well about time!!!”
[pause]
“I’m a ghost, I haunt this house”
[pause]
“I'm talking through the tv, it’s a trick I learn from a poltergeist that lived in a radio once”
[pause]
“Yeah, yeah nice to meet you too, whatever moving on”
[pause]
“How can you not notice the house is haunted? Even I literally pushed you down the stairs that one time”
[pause]
“Yeah, sorry, that was me”
[pause]
“I wasn’t trying to kill you or anything, I was just trying to scare you and make you live my house”
[pause]
“Yes, this is my house, I was born here, grew up here and I died here, it’s mine”
[pause]
“I am not sharing it with anyone, I have scared off anyone who has moved here”
[pause]
“First it was the Jeffers in 82, they were a family of five, they were only here for 2 months before they packed up and left”
[pause]
“I took it slow, saw what they were like before starting doing things”
[pause]
“They were nice enough; the kids were a little annoying”
[pause]
“Then in 94, a woman and her daughter, the girl was into spooky stuff, her mom hoped it was just a phase”
[pause]
“After two weeks of things happening, she took a Ouija board and convinced the mom to have a seance, it only took shaking up the table a little and saying get out, for them to pack and leave the next day”
[pause]
“Then 2001, a painter, or was it a writer? Doesn’t matter... he thought he was crazy, and that I was a product of his mind”
[pause]
“Well, he was crazy, but the house was also haunted”
[pause]
“He didn’t run away though, he was hospitalized... it was better for him...”
[pause]
“After that it was a couple of newlyweds, a week of moving objects and they set a bunch cameras allover”
[pause]
“I decided to give them a show, there were out in a week”
[pause]
“What year it was?”
[pause]
“2007, why?”
[pause]
“Anyway, then it was 2012, let’s just say a sorority had to look for a new house, in only three days... that was my proudest moment...”
[pause]
“Which brings us to you”
[pause]
“Six weeks and you didn’t even notice there’s something going on”
[pause]
“Are you that dense?”
[pause]
“What do you mean you knew?”
[pause]
“Well yeah, I don’t want to hurt you, but still, I think you would at least get scared, you live in a seclude house, alone, in the woods”
[pause]
“Why would you willingly live somewhere like this?”
[pause]
“The rent is what?”
[pause]
“That is... so little...”
[pause]
“How dare they rent my house for just that?
[pause]
“My father spent a fortune building it!!!”
[pause]
“It pisses me off”
[pause]
“What valid reasons?”
[pause]
“Yes, I guess the garden could use some work”
[pause]
“And the roof is a little moldy”
[pause]
“Come on, is not as if anyone knows for sure that is haunted”
[pause]
“It was in the contract?”
[pause]
“And you still moved here?”
[pause]
“you’ll really settle for anything, huh?”
[pause]
“...”
[pause]
“Say...”
[pause]
“If I, hypothetically, agreed to share the house”
[pause]
“Under the condition on not putting anymore stupid horror movies”
[pause]
“And let me watch at least an hour of cartoons”
[pause]
“And constantly speaking to me even if you can’t hear me when I'm not in the tv”
[pause]
“Yes, I could move to any other screen”
[pause]
“What? No, I’m not moving to the screen of your phone, i have seen the stuff you look in it”
[pause]
“Your laptop isn’t as bad, but you still haven’t answer me”
[pause]
“Would you do all that?”
[pause]
“Yes?”
[pause]
“Then, will agree to share the place with you”
[pause]
“Because this is the first conversation I had in like a century”
[pause]
“Is rude to ask the age of a lady”
[pause]
“Hmm... what year is this?
[pause]
“a little less than a hundred then”
[pause]
“I don’t speak like an old lady because, I try to keep up with the lingo, why not, I mean, YOLO, you know?”
“Why are you looking at me like that? What did I say?”
[end]

It's okay to record, post and monetize (as long as you don't put it behind a paywall), just credit me.
Feel free to tweak it, change the roles and pronouns, correct my orthography, just don't change it too much.
Feedback is appreciated.
“hehehe, today is the day”
[pause]
“Finally, after months of frustration and failed attempts”
[pause]
“Today is the day I'll scare him!!!”
[pause]
“I'm sure he is going to say, “oh no a scary ghost, I have to leave this haunted place immediately”, and he will leave my house”
[pause]
“...”
[pause]
“He... is... late today...”
[pause]
“He is never this late”
[pause]
“Could it be that something has happened to him?”
[pause]
“What if he died?”
[pause]
“He better not have died before I had a chance to scare him”
[pause]
(SFX: keys on the door)
“Oh, there he is”
[pause]
“Okay, put you bag down, just like that and now...”
(SFX: door slams)
“ohohoho, I bet that scared him a lot!!!!”
[pause]
“...”
[pause]
“He isn’t even startled...”
[pause]
“Fine, time to get serious”
[pause]
“I’ll turn off the lights as soon as he walks into the kitchen”
[pause]
“One...”
[pause]
“Two...”
[pause]
“Three...”
[pause]
“That should do it”
[pause]
“What?”
[pause]
“No!!!!”
[pause]
“It isn’t your lightbulb, when has it been your lightbulb in the past six weeks?”
[pause]
“it’s me, it’s always been me”
[pause]
“See me!!! Fear me!!!”
[pause]
“What do I have to do, push you down the stairs?”
[pause]
“Actually, scratch that, last time you almost died”
[pause]
“Oh, he is about to sit, maybe I could...”
[pause]
(SFX: chair moves)
[pause]
“The chair moved on its own, surely you at least found that weird, right?”
[pause]
“No!! No!! No!! No!!”
[pause]
“don’t just sit on the chair...”
[pause]
“This wasn’t this difficult in the 80’s”
[pause]
“What is he doing now?”
[pause]
“Instant ramen again?”
[pause]
“He really should stop eating that”
[pause]
“It can’t be good for him”
[pause]
“I wonder what they taste like thought”
[pause]
“Idea, I'll turn on the stove and overboil his noodles”
[pause]
“As soon as he looks away...”
[pause]
“now”
[pause]
“What do you think about that mister I fear nothing”
[pause]
“What is he doing?”
[pause]
“You are just going to leave with the stove turned up like that?”
[pause]
“Well, I'm not turning it down...”
[pause]
“it’s starting to boil...”
[pause]
“And now is boiling...”
[pause]
“And now is spilling!!”
[pause]
“Hey!!! Can't you hear it?”
[pause]
“don’t you care about your soup? your pot? the kitchen? Your safety?”
[pause]
“fine”
[pause]
“I'll turn it off gee”
[pause]
“There you are, the kitchen could have burn you know?”
[pause]
“And you are just going to serve the noodles and move on, because of course you are”
[pause]
“What do I have to do?”
[pause]
“I have tried all the tricks, moving objects, making things disappear, weird noises, turning the lights on and off”
[pause]
“I would appear outside your bedroom wearing a bedsheet at this point”
[pause]
“I would lose my pride as a ghost if I did that”
[pause]
(sight)
“What to do? What to do?”
[pause]
“Hey where did you go?”
[pause]
(SFX: tv turning on)
“Oh, it is that time of the day”
[pause]
“Hey, what are we watching?”
[pause]
“Is it cartoons?”
[pause]
“Ugh, I can’t stand this campy 80’s horror movies, I didn’t like them when they were new, and I don’t like them now”
[pause]
“If you don’t change the channel I will”
[pause]
“Excuse me, did you just flinch?”
[pause]
“Oh no, you are not getting scared watching this garbage?”
[pause]
“You really just screamed?”
[pause]
“Okay, that is it”
[pause]
“What was that trick jerry the poltergeist taught me back in 09?”
[pause]
“haven’t had to do this in a while”
[pause]
(SFX: static noises)
“Hey...”
[pause]
“Hey...”
[pause]
“HEY!!!!!”
[pause]
“Yes, I’m talking to you”
[pause]
“No, this is not part of your movie, your terrible, terrible, stupid movie, I really am talking to you”
[pause]
“what’s the big idea dude?”
[pause]
“For weeks I have been moving chairs and slamming doors, without even getting a single reaction out of you”
[pause]
“Just to see you get scared and literally scream watching a boring 80’s horror movie, that aged like milk”
[pause]
“Point is, not cool”
[pause]
“of course, is only now that you realize I’m here, well about time!!!”
[pause]
“I’m a ghost, I haunt this house”
[pause]
“I'm talking through the tv, it’s a trick I learn from a poltergeist that lived in a radio once”
[pause]
“Yeah, yeah nice to meet you too, whatever moving on”
[pause]
“How can you not notice the house is haunted? Even I literally pushed you down the stairs that one time”
[pause]
“Yeah, sorry, that was me”
[pause]
“I wasn’t trying to kill you or anything, I was just trying to scare you and make you live my house”
[pause]
“Yes, this is my house, I was born here, grew up here and I died here, it’s mine”
[pause]
“I am not sharing it with anyone, I have scared off anyone who has moved here”
[pause]
“First it was the Jeffers in 82, they were a family of five, they were only here for 2 months before they packed up and left”
[pause]
“I took it slow, saw what they were like before starting doing things”
[pause]
“They were nice enough; the kids were a little annoying”
[pause]
“Then in 94, a woman and her daughter, the girl was into spooky stuff, her mom hoped it was just a phase”
[pause]
“After two weeks of things happening, she took a Ouija board and convinced the mom to have a seance, it only took shaking up the table a little and saying get out, for them to pack and leave the next day”
[pause]
“Then 2001, a painter, or was it a writer? Doesn’t matter... he thought he was crazy, and that I was a product of his mind”
[pause]
“Well, he was crazy, but the house was also haunted”
[pause]
“He didn’t run away though, he was hospitalized... it was better for him...”
[pause]
“After that it was a couple of newlyweds, a week of moving objects and they set a bunch cameras allover”
[pause]
“I decided to give them a show, there were out in a week”
[pause]
“What year it was?”
[pause]
“2007, why?”
[pause]
“Anyway, then it was 2012, let’s just say a sorority had to look for a new house, in only three days... that was my proudest moment...”
[pause]
“Which brings us to you”
[pause]
“Six weeks and you didn’t even notice there’s something going on”
[pause]
“Are you that dense?”
[pause]
“What do you mean you knew?”
[pause]
“Well yeah, I don’t want to hurt you, but still, I think you would at least get scared, you live in a seclude house, alone, in the woods”
[pause]
“Why would you willingly live somewhere like this?”
[pause]
“The rent is what?”
[pause]
“That is... so little...”
[pause]
“How dare they rent my house for just that?
[pause]
“My father spent a fortune building it!!!”
[pause]
“It pisses me off”
[pause]
“What valid reasons?”
[pause]
“Yes, I guess the garden could use some work”
[pause]
“And the roof is a little moldy”
[pause]
“Come on, is not as if anyone knows for sure that is haunted”
[pause]
“It was in the contract?”
[pause]
“And you still moved here?”
[pause]
“you’ll really settle for anything, huh?”
[pause]
“...”
[pause]
“Say...”
[pause]
“If I, hypothetically, agreed to share the house”
[pause]
“Under the condition on not putting anymore stupid horror movies”
[pause]
“And let me watch at least an hour of cartoons”
[pause]
“And constantly speaking to me even if you can’t hear me when I'm not in the tv”
[pause]
“Yes, I could move to any other screen”
[pause]
“What? No, I’m not moving to the screen of your phone, i have seen the stuff you look in it”
[pause]
“Your laptop isn’t as bad, but you still haven’t answer me”
[pause]
“Would you do all that?”
[pause]
“Yes?”
[pause]
“Then, will agree to share the place with you”
[pause]
“Because this is the first conversation I had in like a century”
[pause]
“Is rude to ask the age of a lady”
[pause]
“Hmm... what year is this?
[pause]
“a little less than a hundred then”
[pause]
“I don’t speak like an old lady because, I try to keep up with the lingo, why not, I mean, YOLO, you know?”
“Why are you looking at me like that? What did I say?”
[end]

I built this computer in 2021 and it’s run fine up until last week when we had a storm and I pulled the plug without turning off the pc. The next day I boot it up and lights come on fans spin, but I get a no signal on my monitor. I tried the on board graphics and resetting the cmos. I then tried a different power supply it didn’t work. At this point I took it to a store to get them to check the power supply and to pin point the issue. I had a feeling it was the motherboard and that’s what the tech said three days later when I payed him 45 dollars after he rushed me out the door…. So I bought a similar motherboard a rig strip b550-f( I had the e before) hoping that if it wasn’t the issue I could just return it.
Well that didn’t work and it still won’t boot.
So what am I missing here? I’ve tried looking up videos and other posts, but a lot of what they suggest hasn’t worked for me.
With my limited experience I’d be tempted to think it could be the cpu or hard drives. I just don’t want to buy something if that’s not the problem. I’m going to borrow a video card in a few days to try that, but I don’t really have any other ideas
And the tech that looked at my computer just said that he assumes it was the motherboard so I don’t get the impression that he really knew for sure.
I don’t know I’m lost on this one.

As the morning sun finally breaks through the night I am already getting dressed for my first day of second grade. As I’m struggling to button up my white collar shirt my dad walks into the room.
“You getting ready for school champ?” He asks me, clearly proud of how grown I looked.
“You betcha Dad!” I exclaimed as a wide smile beamed across my face,
Dad bent down and helped me finish buttoning my shirt.
“So…” he started asking, “what’s the plan for today? You know,” he paused trying to find the right words, “so you don’t have another one of those outbursts?”
These “outbursts” as Dad called them weren’t really outbursts. I’d had outbursts before but these were different. I’ve only had a handful of these breakdowns but they were the worst thing I’d ever experienced. It felt almost like someone was clawing into my skull. The pain was almost unbearable. Then there were the voices… ugh, I shuddered thinking about the voices.
It was because of these outbursts that we had to move cities. They were so bad I was kicked out of every school in Saint Louis.
Now that we moved to my crazy old grandmother’s house in Maryland, my parents were hoping I’d grow out of the breakdowns. They had tried everything they could to “fix” me but to no prevail. No matter how many doctors or therapists I went to none of them could ever find out what was wrong with me. It made me feel hopeless like I was doomed to be the weird kid for the rest of my life.
I still remember my 6th birthday all too well. I had invited every kid in my class to my party and was so excited to have people over.
You see, I had never had a real friend before and I was hoping by having people over at my house I could finally make one. That’s how dumb of a thought process I had in kindergarten. Now that I was in second grade I realized that wasn’t how the world worked. When it came time to have my party no one except my older brother Nathan and my older sister Jess showed up.
“I’m sorry Weston.” I remember Nathan saying, “Maybe next year you’ll have friends.”
Nathan didn’t mean that in a mean way but it sure felt like that. That year when I blew out my candles all I wished for was a single friend, a friend whom I could talk to, a friend whom I could play with and laugh with, a friend who cared about me.
But like most wishes, it never came true. And now here I am ready to reinvent myself and ready to try again. Hopefully, things were different in Baltimore, hopefully the kids were nicer.
“I’ll try not to freak out again Dad.” I finally replied to him as he finished tying my navy blue tie around my neck. “I promise.”
“I know you will Westy. I know. Just please try to take deep breaths like the kind therapist told you to.”
“Dad,” I said longingly, “I told you those silly techniques don’t work.”
“They worked for me.” My older sister Jess said as she walked into the room and sat on my bed, “I used to have the same outbursts happen to me.” She paused, “Matter of fact, the feelings never go away, you just learn to mask them.” She looked at Dad, “That’s just what the Man does to you.
“Jessica!” My dad scolded, “Stop scaring your brother. It’s his first day after all.”
“Weston.” He said turning to me, “Don’t listen to her. Do you understand me?”
I nodded submissively,
Dad turned and walked out of the room leaving me and Jess to finish getting ready.
“He doesn’t get it Westy.” She said to me once she knew he was out of earshot, “But just so you know it gets worse when he visits you again.”
“Again?” I replied in horror, “Jess you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not I swear Weston. Now normally I wouldn’t be telling you this at your age but you seem pretty mature so I think you can handle it.”
She was wrong, I couldn’t handle it.
"Weston, Jess!” My dad yelled from the kitchen, “Time for school!”
I arrived at school in my dad’s big, grey, Chevy Silverado and hopped down on the curb. I waved goodbye to my dad while Jess grabbed my hand and walked me to my classroom.
Ever since mom died, Jess has stepped up to be the motherly figure in my life though never fully replacing my mom. My mom was a beautiful woman with brown chestnut-colored locks of curly hair and beautiful blue eyes as pale but vibrant as the ocean on a cloudy day. I loved my mom but ever since the Man first showed up at our doorstep she was never quite the same. After the incident with the Man, she turned into a hollow shell of a person. Until, until she’d had enough.
It was right after my 6th birthday when the Man came. Maybe he was the answer to my birthday wish. In some ways, I guess he was. It was raining that day. I can still hear the pitter patter of the raindrops hitting the pavement outside my house when all of a sudden there was a knock on my door. I ran to open it, having not been able to sense danger at such a naive age, and was surprised when a tall man wearing an all-black attire stood there staring at me. When my mom saw who it was from the kitchen she immediately dropped the knife in her hand and started running toward me but not before the Man grabbed me by the shoulder and yanked me out the door. I remember being frozen in fear, not sure whether to cry or scream. I ended up doing nothing. The man shoved me into the back seat of his car and drove off as my mom came running down the driveway. I couldn’t tell if she was crying or if it was just the rain rolling down her face but I remember wondering whether or not I’d ever see her again.
I think about this now as I walked up the steps into the elementary school with my sister’s hand in mine. Once we reach the outside of my classroom, I turn and stare at my sister.
“I don’t wanna go in there,” I said, my anxiety acting up again,
“Come on Weston,” She replied, “I’m sure it will be fine.”
I usually trusted my sister when it came to stuff like this but this time it felt different, something felt wrong. Either way, I decided to suppress my fear and turn to the classroom door. Too short to look into the window of the door, I reach up and turn the handle instead, without looking inside to evaluate the classroom. I crack open the door and peer inside, what I see when I open the door makes me scream at the top of my lungs with fear. I’m struck with fear and can feel the voices coming back.
The Man was sitting at the teacher’s desk, coffee in hand, feet resting on the desk itself.
“It’s nice to see you again William.” He said as a maniacal grin crossed his face,
“Remember me?”

I drove one for 50 miles from Dellenbach in Fort Collins. Up to Horsetooth Reservoir for the twisties, through Laporte and out to I-25 towards Wyoming for some SuperCruise time. We have a 2019 Leaf that we charge with solar panels and a 2022 Subaru Outback Wilderness that got rear-ended on the I-25 Autobaun the other night. Could the Equinox take the place of my late Outback and be my new work car? I drive 25k a year as a wedding photographer in Colorado's metro Front Range and into the mountains (Vail and Breckenridge mostly).
Highs ...

• Next-level screens, connectivity, technology. Great interface, clarity, and feature set. For this price? Whoa.
• Idea roominess and storage (compared to our Leaf and late-Wilderness) - the back seat's perfect on legroom - bigger than an Outback
• Great one-pedal driving - just like our Leaf. Thank you, GM!
• Exterior design is even more impressive in person. Really well done.

OK ...

• Front seats were great (wish it had 4-way lumbar), but the rear seat is very firm and I wonder about roadtrip comfort back there.
• Through mountain roads, the car felt way heavier than 4,000lbs and I wouldn't drive anywhere in anything other than Sport mode.
• All the acceleration I need, but didn't feel as swift as our Leaf.
• The wipers blades come from the center and took way more of my attention than I thought they would. Wait, what? Do I like this?

Lows ...

• The door cards and switch gear are equal, or cheaper feeling than my 2014 Corolla. Hard plastic rules. I guess they had to cut costs somewhere.
• The center armrest is as stiff as a board. Can I bring a pillow from home as I rest my elbow there for hours will SuperCruise does the work? What were they thinking?

I was really knocked out by Google on board, the giant screens and SuperCruise. It felt like the surprise and joy of experiencing Compact Discs when they first came out (alright, I'm old). I love live mapping and this thing kills at it.
I want a loaded 3LT but fear a build-out might take too long (I'm currently out a car after the Outback was hit). In conference with their sales team next week to decide.
Hope you get to drive one soon. It's such a modern classic.

I was playing through Dead Space 2 for the first time in a while and I noticed some details in the school in chapter 6 that narrow down the date that the game takes place.
As you walk in, there's a board where children wrote their favorite things they did over the school year, which suggests we're late in the school year. On the other side, there's a poster for a show called "The Metamorphosis" (dramatic irony moment) set to be put on at 19:00 on May 10th and 19:30 on May 13th. As you get further in, there's a poster for a show called "Galactilot" being put on by the 4th graders on May 3rd, 5th, and 10th. The sign above the door to the auditorium says that the show is happening after lunch (assumedly the day that the game takes place). The set for Galactilot can be seen immediately after this, with the lights and music on (where Isaac Clarke gets jump scared by the sun). This suggests that the outbreak happened during the show, forcing the actors and audience to flee. This would put the events of the game after lunch on May 3rd, 5th, or 10th of 2511. A teacher report found when exiting the school says that kids were having visions which hurt their concentration over the course of the 3rd semester. I assume this is supposed to mean the 3rd marking period (schools typically have 4, with the 3rd ending in mid-April. This would make the report a month old by the events of the game).
We can speculate to narrow down the date. Having the outbreak happen the same day that a show called "The Metamorphosis" is some great dramatic irony. The only day where Galactilot and The Metamorphosis were both supposed to be shown is May 10th. Since the decorations for Galactilot as still up, we can assume that the outbreak reached the school between lunch (probably around 12:00) and 19:00 when the next show was supposed to start. So the best time/date I can give for the start of the game based on chapter 6 is between 12:00-19:00 on May 10, 2511.
Oddly, when you finish this section the intercom says "recess is over" even though the class schedules on the wall CLEARLY state that recess is way before lunch. However, this is not the discrepancy that I'm talking about. The real contradiction is right when you leave the elementary school and enter the transportation hub. On the hologram when talking with Ellie and Stross, there's the one confirmed date and time in the game, it reads "00:21:41:29 2/7/2511" with the timer counting up. It Appears that this part of the game is about 20 minutes after midnight, which is consistent with the departure times listed in the room. While one may assume 2/7/2511 means February 7th because an American company made the game, some screens on the Ishumura do say "Last serviced: 19-09-42", which only makes sense with the day-month-year arrangement. Then again, the class D cargo lifts say that they were last serviced 11-09-2757 (over 2 centuries after the games take place), so make of that what you will.
tl;dr: While we know the game takes place in 2511 (500 years after the real world release date), chapter 6 gives us 2 contradictory dates for when the game takes place. The elementary school points towards May 10th, while the date and time on a hologram communication in the hub points towards the events of the game taking place from February 6th-7th (M-D-Y) or July 1st-2nd (D-M-Y). While this is a minor issue, it would be nice to have things be more consistent in the remake.

dealing with a problematic member of a board games group
Originally posted to Ask A Manager
EDITORS NOTE: Changed Q to Quinn for easier reading
Original Post Sept 15, 2022
I wanted to write and say thank you.
I am part of a local board games group, and started to run the group a while ago. It’s a great group of people who all enjoy coming together to play board games and have fun, and it was one of the key factors in making my husband and I feel at home in the city where we live. We have both made friends with people in the group, and it’s now a firm part of our life here. In addition, a regular member who left recently said that the group was the highlight of his week, which was lovely to hear. I love running the group!
However, there is a member of the group, Quinn, who has been in the group since it started (seven years or more) and has been displaying problematic behavior since he joined (rude comments, refusing to play anyone else’s games, losing his temper at times, leaving games in a huff when he’s losing, and generally making the atmosphere unpleasant for others). When we joined, we were told that Quinn bothered everyone but was just something that was being in the group, so we went along with that. At the time, the group was very serious and inclined towards more serious board games, and only three people ever brought games. There has been a real change of culture since then, with a range of games being played (light games, traditional games, and heavy games) and everyone brings games now. The atmosphere is a lot lighter, with more emphasis on having fun and being social, and this is something that Quinn does not enjoy and has not adjusted well to.
When I started to run the group, I noticed Quinn’s behavior was having a terrible effect on the group (people not coming back because of him or doing anything to avoid playing with him, and his preference for playing games in reverential silence making sessions less fun for everyone). I also realized that some people were at breaking point with this and it might contribute to them leaving.
The deputy (Kelly) and I wanted to ensure that we did it fairly and using the right procedure. We gathered feedback on the group, (which was useful in itself!), which confirmed that Quinn’s behavior was an issue, and I spoke to him, named what we were seeing with clear examples, and explained what we needed to see change. Quinn said he would take it on board. Your scripts and language were very helpful, as Quinn takes things very literally and factually.
Quinn’s behavior improved for four weeks, which was great. Some people have put up with it for so long that no amount of change will make them want to play games with Quinn, but some people were willing to give Quinn a chance. Unfortunately, Quinn’s behavior started to slip after four weeks, culminating in a session where they almost put a new member off coming back by lecturing them about group etiquette and insulting their game shelves with what was meant to be a joke, but did not land.
I spoke to Quinn again and explained that since the behavior we discussed had returned, if this did not improve, we would have to ask Quinn to leave as the group is for everyone and I need to do what’s right for the group as a whole.
Quinn took the points on board and was visibly upset at the thought of being asked to leave the group. Since we spoke to them, they haven’t attended of the two sessions since then, but they are still chatting on our Discord channel and seem to be trying to make amends by promoting the group to a students’ group in the city we live in.
We don’t know what will happen, but Kelly and I have agreed what behaviors will mean Quinn will be asked to leave, and your scripts and posts were invaluable in thinking about how to tackle this, and what language to use. Your posts have helped me realize that being the group leader means that the buck stops with me. For example, my husband and I disagreed on how to handle the situation (he was in favor of asking Quinn to leave immediately) but I had the confidence to think it through, follow the process through fairly, and know that if it didn’t work, that responsibility would rest with me.
This isn’t related to work per se, but I wanted to say thank you very much for the invaluable and free advice which has really helped me in navigating this situation!
Update Apr 11, 2024
I am the letter writer who runs a board games group and used Alison’s excellent advice about communication to deal with a problematic member of the games group and the issues their behavior was causing.
We had a twist in the tale recently when Quinn, the member who was asked to leave the group because their behavior was negatively impacting others, asked if they could come back.
For four weeks every year, we use a different venue as another group needs our normal venue. One one of the four weeks, I went for a walk before the session and noticed what looked like Quinn in the park. When the session started, Quinn appeared, just “passing by,” and we had a quick chat about this and that before they asked if they could come back to the group, saying they were in a better place now. They then left without ordering anything, which makes me think they dropped in just to see us.
I said I would send a message, and gave it due consideration. I also asked a friend who knows Quinn and used to be in the group, but has now moved, for their more objective input.
The decision was no: the group is working well as it is, with high numbers and between 11 and 20 people per session, and Quinn coming back would lead to awkwardness and possible animosity from a few people, some of whom would speak their mind. We would also lose a lot of members, and the group would slowly decline. For what it’s worth, one person who had some very negative interactions with Quinn, when they heard why Quinn was there ( they were round the corner), exclaimed “No!” to Quinn coming back, and this person is one of the nicest people you’ll meet. Similar reactions were given from others.
I sent Quinn a message explaining the decision, and I was as fair and kind as possible given the circumstances. Quinn has found another games group, albeit one that only plays light games, (not heavy games, Quinn’s preference), and I mentioned that and said it sounds like a nice group (which it does).
Quinn was perfectly pleasant when we chatted, but that was for about eight minutes, and they knew what was coming. They also said that they weren’t often doing the things I’d mentioned anymore (moving other people’s pieces, and a couple of other examples I gave), and that although their new group likes light games, they are helping some people progress up to heavier games. It wasn’t clear if the people wanted to progress (one of the issues we had was Quinn assuming that everyone wanted to progress).
The games group continues to do well, with enough surplus each year to give everyone free sessions every January, and we receive frequent feedback that the atmosphere is friendly and welcoming and that people feel at home and confident to bring and teach their games there. Our annual Christmas potluck dinner and session with a Secret Santa also continues. We also have a Google sheet with people’s games collections, if they want to add them, thanks to one of our members who likes spreadsheets.
For myself, Ask a Manager continues to help me out at work! I recently applied for a job which would be a step up income wise and I used Alison’s tips, and I use the communication tips in daily life as well as at work. I was actually used as a bargaining chip in recent negotiations at work over a type of meeting that needs minuting (for my minuting skills), so I will take that as a compliment!
THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

This thread is about to be very long, and I will be adding to it frequently, but this is how I would write season 3 of Euphoria since Sam is obviously preoccupied with god knows what. This came to me in a dream so call it fate ig.
Background- since season 2 ends with the card that Rue stayed sober through the rest of junior year, and Lexi’s play takes place in the spring, I thought it’d be best to pick up on the first day of their senior year in the fall. This means that Cassie, Maddie, and Nate have all graduated, leaving us with Rue, Jules, Lexi, Elliot, Bobbi, Ethan, BB & Kat. Also Gia, the Parents, and Ali. Anyways here goes.
Episode 1- I Stayed Sober (Mostly)
[Scene 1]: The Last First Day Episode One opens with a black screen that has flashes of red and blue, like police sirens, that increasingly become more intense and vibrant, to indicate Rue coming out of a dissociative state. She narrates over the screen:
“You want to know the worst part about staying sober? It’s not the withdrawals or the cravings, even though they’re pretty fucking bad. It’s not even the depression or the emptiness you feel without your poisonous security blanket protecting you from your worst thoughts and emotions. The worst part about staying sober, is that you’re trapped back in the fucked up world that made you want to do drugs in the first place”
The red and blue screen shifts to police sirens with cops yelling in an attempt to evacuate everyone from the school. It’s raining and the sky is gray and muddy. All the students are now wearing muted uniforms in the school colors, blue black and white (the uniforms are explained later) The scene looks very muted and drained. As the students flood out of the school in a frenzy, we see Rue and Lexi standing at the exit, uninterested in the theatrics and significantly changed from last season.
Rue has a brighter disposition to herself, appearing more soft and bright, while keeping her moody demeanor. Her look shows that she is trying her best to be more optimistic, despite going through hell from her plethora of mental illness that have now taken over due to her sobriety. Still, she looks healthier and brighter.
Lexi, on the other hand, has a more goth like appearance. In addition to her new dark black hair with red colored streaks (red to signify her stepping into her power) she also looks less approachable with more gothic motifs such as skulls and roses on her increased accessories. We learn later that this is an attempt to reinvent herself after last year’s play incident and fez dying. She seems uninterested and annoyed, but has a more confident air after being put in the spotlight and no longer having to live under her sisters shadow. She has become more monotone, speaking her mind and embracing her realistic perspective of life.
They begin walking to the parking lot, looking for Lexi’s mom among the waves of chaotic students pushing past them.
Rue: Of course, just our fucking luck that someone decides to shoot up the school our first day of senior year.
Lexi: It wasn’t even a real shooting. I heard some kid brought a gun to show off and got tackled by his teacher. Everyone started freaking out, and now I’m missing the first day of my AP English class.
Rue: Not like you need it. I think you proved that you can write a good story that makes waves and changes lives (sarcasm)
Lexi: 😐 that’s not funny Rue. That play is all anyone could talk about all summer. Everyone hates me because they think it’s my fault that we all have to wear these stupid uniforms.
Rue: actually that was Cassie’s fault, that fight got a new edit every week. My favorite was the #mollywhop dance (starts doing a dance that is significant of Maddie slapping Cassie and Cassie riding a carousel)
Lexi: Rue I’m serious. I got so sick of living in the background that I put my entire life on display in front of all of East Highland just for my sister to make everything about her.
Rue: Well good writing is supposed to be controversial. And take it as a victory, at least you’re not a nobody anymore.
Random Guy: Hey Lexi, I got a horse you can ride (does the dance)
Cop: Keep it moving sir!
They get to the end of the parking lot and sit on the pavement.
Lexi: 🙄of course she’s late.
Rue: hey, it’s a new year. You’re no longer the girl whose sister was the hottest cheerleader in school and I’m no longer the resident drug addict that everyone is waiting to die.
Lexi: you’re right. That’s Elliot. Or Jules. Have you checked on either of them since his overdose?
Rue: no…fuck them both. They seem happy in their stupid relationship with their stupid anniversary posts. I had to block them both before I killed myself or worse. They can die for all I care.
Lexi: well he almost did. I heard he had a stroke and is in a wheelchair until he learns how to walk again.
Rue: trying to hide that she’s concerned really?…i mean i don’t care, but that’s what he deserves right? Can’t do drugs that carelessly without consequences. Ask me how I know.
Lexi: I don’t think anyone deserves to OD. I hope he gets some help.
Rue: he has help, that bitch is playing housewife which she probably loves. Attention seeking whore. You know I’m sick of talking about Jules and Elliot and Cassie and every other narcissist with a victim complex that keeps trying to make themselves the main character. pulls her closer with a shoulder hug this year it’s about us. Starting over and getting a chance to finally make it out of this stupid town. You have colleges lined up at the door and I’ve been sober for almost a year. No one is going to take this year from us. That why you blocked Cassie, and that’s why I had any memory of Jules permanently erased from my brain. Out of sight out of mind.
Lexi: I guess you’re right. New year, new us.
Rue: alright. Now call your mom so we can get out of the rain. I hate cops more than I hate being fully clothed and wet.
Lexi: (finally smiling) almost as much as they hate you
Rue: hey fuck you, I still have to go to court for that.
Lexi: too soon? 🤭
Rue: just dial the fucking phone
Rue [vo while it shows Suze driving up and the girls walking across the parking lot]: Despite how terrible last year was, I feel like Lexi and I finally got back to how things used to be. Before the drugs, before the funerals. Just Rue and Lexi like it’s always been. Sometimes I forget how great life was when I was just a kid. But drugs tend to take away everything that makes life, life. I just wish Fezco had stayed alive long enough to finally see me sober. Then maybe Lexi wouldn’t be so serious and emo these days. But she took care of me, and now it’s my turn. I just don’t know what’s worse, losing the love of your life before you get a chance to say it love you (shot of Lexi rubbing a cross chain fez gave her looking at the sky before getting in the car) or thinking you found the love of your life just to end up as strangers. (As Rue opens the door to get in, she sees Jules wheeling Elliot across the parking lot. She stares for a bit before getting in the car.) Either way, we all died. (Rue gets in the car before Jules can see her.)
Jules looks over at the car but doesn’t see anyone. She looks distraught, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rue, who she hasn’t seen since the play. She’s dressed in a mostly black school girl uniform with a short skirt and corset that she’s clad in neon accessories and coquettish garters and bows. Her hair is longer than in season 2 but shorter than season 1. This is to signify that she’s embracing her femininity more with Elliot, but is stepping into a more powerful, dominant version of femininity. She’s content with her relationship, and rebuilding herself after the abuse she endured in relationship with rue. Now she’s just worried about repeating the same story with Elliot. She looks off into the distance, paused in a state of reflection.
Elliot: babe are you good? Jules: what? Yea just thought I saw something. (Continues wheeling him across the parking lot) Elliot: It was probably a ghost. HEY CASPER, LOOK BUT DONT TOUCH HOMIE Jules: (laughing) you’re so unserious Elliot: what do you mean? I’m serious. I don’t want his ectoplasm fucking up your makeup. Jules: You’re the one who keeps fucking up my makeup Elliot: and I’ll do it again kisses her winces ow fuck Jules: relax dude. You know the doctor said you can’t stretch your spine much after your stroke. Elliot: and you know I told that doctor nothing can kill me and I’m basically a god Jules: even when you’re sick you’re still crazy Elliot: crazy for you Jules: yea yea, just be happy it was a stroke and not a death sentence. whispers in his you know if you would’ve died I would have to kill you. Elliot: besides the fact that that makes zero sense, you know it wasn’t my fault Jules: I’m just glad that Laurie lady got put behind bars. Who the fuck puts fentanyl in Weed? Elliot: a plug who can’t find enough junkies to buy their fentanyl. That’s why I always sniff my weed before I smoke it. Jules: and that sniff put you in a wheelchair, so who’s god now? Elliot: mmmm, still me. I live close enough to the school that I don’t have to pay for a van, and I have a hot chick with a huge dick as a nurse. Not to mention loads of settlement money from suing the biggest plug in our area and a med card with all the unlaced weed I can smoke. I’m up as fuck. Jules: or too high to be traumatized Elliot: And (dances her around his chair like a waltz until she falls in his lap) my dick still works. Jules: nice try Romeo, but your ego is showing (zips up his pants and continues pushing) Elliot: fuck, has it been like that all day? That’s embarrassing Jules: no more embarrassing than the whole school thinking you’re in a wheelchair because you couldn’t hold your oxys Elliot: it was Percs actually, thank you very much. And fuck what those bots think, I’ve been sober since that intervention. I guess you can say Rue knocked some sense into Me. Jules: (avoiding the topic of rue) did you see the comments on our last post, they called us percinstein and the coke bride Elliot: damn I guess they did know it was Percs (Now on his front porch)
Jules: (standing in front of him looking in his eyes with sentiment ) Elliot I’m serious. I’ve been the topic of conversation ever since I moved to this fucking town. I just want to have a normal year for once in my complicated life. Elliot: babe listen it’s high school. Everything is the topic of conversation and no one is normal. People talk shit because they’re bored and have no personality or sense of self outside of the useless drama they can create in their minds. But you have a life, and a future. You have an amazing, sober boyfriend who loves you and a portfolio that can get you into any art school in the world. You’re at the last step before your real life begins. I’m just happy that I have the privilege to watch. And you know I like to watch. Jules: you’re a lunatic. Elliot: I love you. Jules: I love you too. kiss
Elliot: Are you sure you can’t stay tonight Jules: I wish, but my dad is serious about making sure I get into the best school, which means spending hours look at boring virtual tours and applying early admission. Elliot: ok well I’ll be here figuring out how to pee without standing up Jules: how do our conversations always center back to your dick Elliot: I can’t talk about anything else, it’s too hard Jules: wow, you sound like my dad and I’m turned off [starts walking away] Elliot: it’s not me it’s the weed. now you make sure you make it home safe. There’s a shooter on the loose. Jules: [grabbing her bike] the gun wasn’t even loaded. besides, getting shot would not be the worst thing to happen to me. Elliot: you’re American. It always gets worse. Jules: [riding off] that’s depressing Elliot: text me when you’re home Jules: [almost gone] you have my location! Elliot: [to himself] and I still never know where you are

I've asked so many times over my 2 months working here to join the union. I was told when I was hired someone would contact me about it and they never did.
I've asked my department manager, the hiring manager, the store manager, and even though they say they'll talk to the union rep I still haven't been contacted. Is there a way I can find the phone number of my stores union rep or something because obviously nobody higher up at my store has the brain capacity to actually do it for me.
I know we have a bulletin board so it MIGHT be on there (i'll check when im on shift next), but finding it before then would be helpful.

MIA Town Hall - Supporting Extreme States, Dissociation & Experiences Labeled as Psychosis
Mad in America presents Part II of a special panel discussion on understanding and supporting those experiencing extreme states, dissociation, and experiences labeled as psychosis. We’ll take a deeper dive into how engaging and validating these states can serve as a supportive tool for healing. We’ll provide concrete examples of possible approaches and demonstrate that recovery, even in people labeled as “incurable,” is possible in various forms. Our expert panel includes survivors, family members, and therapists. Extensive resources will be shared, and the discussion will conclude with an open audience Q&A.
About the Guest Speakers
Cindy Marty Hadge is a person who experienced physical, emotional, sexual, and medical trauma as a child. She experienced voices, vision, and thoughts of ending her life growing up as well. As a young adult she turned to alcohol and street drugs in an effort to make life livable. Over time she entered the mental health system, where the street drugs were replaced with prescribed drugs and the result was frequently the same – walking or stumbling through life in a mind-numbing state while continuing to experience voices, visions, and thoughts of ending her life.
Knowing that peer support in the form of 12 Step programs had been helpful while struggling with substance use, she sought out peer support for her emotional distress and experience of extreme states. Cindy discovered that she lived within walking distance of one of the Wildflower Alliance spaces, where one of the very few Hearing Voices Network groups in the US was held. Within this community she found healing and hope. By attending HVN groups she discovered that there were things she could do beyond taking medication to navigate her experience.
Cindy has found the meaning, purpose, and connection that she longed for and has made a way of making sense of the senseless. She is transforming her tragedies into treasures by being healed when creating space for others to heal. Cindy has been recognized by Inter-Voice, the international organization of HVN, for her work as an educator. Cindy is gender non-conforming and has presented both as Cindy and Marty. Cindy is a keynote speaker and a national trainer.
Olga Runciman is the only psychologist in private practice in Denmark to specialize in extreme states (psychosis). She is an international trainer and speaker, writer, campaigner, and artist. She is a co-founder of the Danish Hearing Voices Network and the International Institute for Psychiatric Drug Withdrawal. She is a board member for a variety of organizations including Intervoice, Mad in America, The Danish Psychosocial Rehabilitation organization, and others. She has taken the three-year Finnish Open Dialogue education in London and works today as a dialogical family therapist and trainer.
For many years prior to her current career, Olga worked as a nurse in neurology and psychiatry. She also knows psychiatry from the inside, having been a patient herself. She was told she was an incurable case. Today she is in the unique position of creating a bridge between patient and professional.
Sam Ruck earned his B.A. in a Christian ministry-related field but set that dream aside when his wife began to display symptoms related to her childhood trauma early in their 35-year marriage. Together, for the past 16 years, they have learned to navigate extreme states and extreme dissociative issues, while embracing her seven “alter” identities in their relationship and family. Sam learned to become the companion his wife needed on their mutual healing journey, using strategies drawn from attachment theories and other pragmatic approaches.
Today, Sam and his wife struggle together, like many others, amidst the upheaval of culture wars and post his cancer diagnosis in 2023. They are still dealing with the remnants of her trauma and dissociation. Though his wife chooses to remain anonymous, she supports Sam sharing their learnings with significant others, family members, and anyone who is interested in a better way to engage someone experiencing mental distress. Please note that for privacy, Sam Ruck is using a pen name.
Sam blogged about their journey for a number of years later, summarizing the experience in a short book offered for free here. Excerpts have been published on MIA.

Recent posts point to the blind trust local pastors put in The Network Leadership Team, the practice of leaders being protected from vs. serving as protectors of those they lead, the relational enmeshment and leader-pleasing on display at pastor retreats, and how many leaders reflect characteristics of pastors that we should be wary of putting trust in.
I'm sure they would claim to be serving Jesus. That their harsh oversight is the result of God holding them personally accountable for the churches they lead. That they are protecting the flock when someone who is 'too needy' or 'doesn't share our values' is run out the door before they can set up roots. That the actions of those that follow are most important, and not the faith or intent behind them....making it OK to threaten or intimidate people into the 'right' behaviors.
When I zoom out though, it really seems to come down to the personal comfort of these leaders. Comfort in physical needs being met, in thinking that God is happy with them if they stay true to The Network and their Dear Leader, and in driving away and literally demonizing anyone who would dare challenge their psychological and spiritual comfort zone. I'm not blaming them for it....most of them were caught up in this mess in their late-teens and early-twenties and haven't been forced to exercise the maturity muscles needed to navigate a difficult world with endless grey space between any two seemingly impossible extremes. Having everything in a perfect little compartment sounds great, and easy....and not the world we all live in.
It's the only way that it makes sense. How else can a so-called pastor commit so much blind loyalty to a system that also requires them to sever relationships with hundreds of those that, like me, decided to part ways with them?
What am I missing?

I (26F) when I was 4 years old my parents legally divorced and for my whole life I lived with shared custody. Until I was 16 years old my mom was my biggest enemy because she abused me verbally and physically while my dad was my best friend, going to his house was what I expected all week long because I went on weekends, we played board games, we went to the movies or to different places, he did let me have a pet, everything was a dream until I turned 16 years old. Something curious about this time is that my dad used to talk to me about how my mom cheated on him and she told me not to believe him, but since he was the enemy I didn't listen to him.
12 years ago my mom started attending a Christian church along with my whole family and I, curious, started attending with her... that's when everything took a turn. You see, my father is an extremist Catholic and from then on he started to attack me in every way possible: against my new belief, he discovered that I had Facebook and forced me to give him my password to h*rass me and read absolutely everything; he told me that if I took the entrance exam for the university I wanted, he would find out because he hired a friend to stand near the door and take photos of me if he saw me arriving, which made me scared; when I decided that I was going to be a teacher my dad exploded in fury, although I was already a legal adult he told me that I had no right to choose my career and only my mother and he could do it, he tried to force my mother to pay me to study medicine but he didn't succeed and now I am studying education; Oh and it is worth mentioning that he generated in me an irrational phobia of buses because he told me that if I got on a bus, my parents would never see me or my body again.
My father over time has tried to manipulate me more and more and I increasingly move away, he pressures me every year to marry someone rich, to get pregnant even by accident because he doesn't want to “die without knowing his grandchildren” (my father is macho), that I stay in his house when he no longer lives alone and lives with a family that I don't like, he wants me to call his partner's children "my siblings" and treat them the same as my biological siblings, that I become Catholic again so I don't go to hell, that I convince my sister to stop therapy because her bipolar "is a lie", that I don't relate to minorities or people of other races (my father is r*cist since we are not white), that I don't relate to anyone in the LGBT community (my father is “proudly homophobic”).
My father lives by appearances, he lives in an expensive house but my grandparents pay his rent, he wears pilot suits when he used to repair airplanes and he doesn't know how to fly a plane, he tells everyone that I studied “educational administration and future founder of a school” because he is ashamed that I am a teacher, he bought very big cars when he didn't even have enough to pay for gas and finally he presumes he is a good father... when he has caused me such strong psychological abuse that I'm afraid to do things because he might find out.
4 years ago I started to progressively cut communication with him to the point that I don't talk to him and I don't go to his house anymore, only once a month and it hurts me because in this dispute my paternal grandparents and my younger sister got caught in the crossfire, but my dad is so harassing that if I call them or her just to say hello, he will find out and come here to complain because I talk to them and not to him. Sometimes I think my life will be easier and I will rest the day he dies, AITAH for wanting or thinking that?

Hello I'll try to keep this short. my cat pissed on my pc few days ago. Got home from work ready to game it wouldn't turn on....took a look at it and they peed the top of GPU (didn't seem to leak inside took it apart and didn't see anything) my liquid cooler hoses seemed to absorb most of it, but it did get to the motherboard. I took it all apart every single component and cleaned with iso while scrubbing with soft bristle tooth brush. waited until it was fully dry left it under a fan blowing on it for a day. I tried turning it on and no luck. I also tried jumping the power pins and nothing as well. The following morning when I woke up, and walked into my room where my setup is it had turned on by itself overnight. I tried to turn it off with the power button and it didn't work. I flipped the power supply button to turn it off and after flipping it again it didn't turn on. (from power button or jumping the pins) The pc didn't have anything pluggdd in but the power cord. (no DP, no mouse, keyboard etc.) I left it there again, and it turned on again the following night. this time while it was on I plugged in the key board and mouse and display port to see if I got an image and the keyboard wasn't being detected and no display. I just want to know if anyone could have an idea on what is fucked so I don't buy a whole new setup...I'm assuming it turned on due to the small hint of moisture in the air overnight when it gets chilly? maybe it shorted it into turning on? yes I know it's my fault for not having the tempered glass panel but I want some opinions on this before buying a new setup

I visited this beautiful country between May 1 - 11, but was not prepared for the amount of tourism, which I must say ultimately left me a little sour about the experience. We stuck with all the major attractions and sights so I know we shouldn’t be surprised by the crowds, but I’ve still never seen tourism at this level. That said, I may have had a better time if I didn't try to pack everything in as much as I did.
Our itinerary was:
Day 1: Land in Milan
Day 2: Train from Milan to Lake Como
Day 3: Train from Lake Como to Cinque Terre (my favorite part of the trip)
Day 5: Train from Cinque Terre to Florence
Day 8: Train from Florence to Rome
Day 10: Train from Rome back to Milan for our departing flight the next day
Lake Como and Cinque Terre (CT) were my favorite parts that I wish I allotted more time for.
While Lake Como is beautiful and I wish we had more time to explore some spots I had saved, it did feel a little soulless. We stayed in Varenna and took the ferry to Bellagio. Both areas feel like resort towns that exist solely for tourism. Other areas might have a less catering vibe. Also, the number of young women taking shots for the 'gram and giving you dirty looks because you ruined their 20-minute photoshoot is nauseating.
The train that runs between the 5 towns in CT gets packed to the brim with people during peak hours (~10 a.m. - 5 p.m.). On our arrival day I tried to get off the train for our final stop and I literally got stuck between people; I was able to lift my feet off the ground for a few seconds and not get anywhere like a cartoon character.
We visited CT to hike the Blue Path and no regrets there. Absolutely stunning and the only time we didn't feel overwhelmed with people (started hiking around 8 a.m. in Monterosso). But if you're just taking the train between towns you'll do almost as much hiking from the train stations to the main parts of all 5 towns. The only one we didn’t properly visit was Manarola so maybe that town has a short walk from the train station? I think there are vans/buses that take people from some of the train stations into town, but you'll be waiting amongst crowds and nothing is clearly noted.
Florence: we stayed right near the Ponte Vecchio and I do not recommend. Again, the number of people and crowds ruin it. I thought it would be nice/convenient staying near the Uffizi and the bridge, but it wasn't worth it. Unless you’re shopping for jewelry, the bridge can be much more appreciated from a distance. The location also isn't ideal because no matter what I tried we couldn't get a taxi; I downloaded apps, called taxi hubs, tried Uber, but no one would come to our location or offer alternative pick up spots. The city is very walkable, but we came down with food poisoning so by the end I was hoping to grab a taxi to the train station to alleviate some of the dejectedness I was feeling. We visited the Uffizi, Accademia, and the Piazzale Michelangelo, but I was happy to leave Florence. I felt like I couldn't escape the smell of cigarettes the entire time.
Rome: I think by this point were a bit weary from the food poisoning, crowds, and the amount of walking we did with our backpacks. Thankfully though no issues getting taxis/Ubers around Rome. Despite what people say about Trastevere being "overrated" now, stay there. It's easily the nicest part of Rome. My second recommendation would be Prati. We had tickets to visit the Vatican Museum and I wish we made the effort but this was the last leg of the trip and we were just over it so we spent our full day in Rome walking to all the sights: Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, Pantheon, Roman Forum, and Janiculum Hill.
Rome was nice and I enjoyed it more than Florence, but it also felt run down. We had a running joke that ambulances were following us because we could not escape the sirens. I know, it’s all part of history and maybe I’m just not sophisticated enough to appreciate its historical magnitude, but honestly, pass.
Public transit: Getting on ferries and trains felt like a fight each time which added some physical and mental fatigue. I highly recommend sticking to high-speed trains if possible because you can reserve your seat; it doesn’t matter if you book first class or standard, they’re basically the same. Trains where you don’t reserve your, good luck. We stood for 1.5hrs from CT to Florence CRAMMED in. Each time the train stopped more people would squeeze in but eventually we had to stop people from boarding.
The trains were occasionally running a couple minutes late and there was a 24hr strike during our stay but nothing that impacted our trip. Don’t feel like you must show up for your train more than ~10 minutes in advance, your train’s platform number likely won’t be displayed until about 5 – 10 minutes out. You’ll just stand around unnecessarily stressing yourself out otherwise.
Was this a magical trip? No, not really. Would I visit Italy again? Possibly with some time and with plans to stick to the more natural scenery. I did want to visit the Italian Dolomites but they were still snow covered during our visit.
I think another factor that contributed to it not being the “magical” experience you hope for is we had to stick to schedules the entire time and that’s not a typical fun vacation for me; whether it was the trains, museum/attraction entrance times, or dinner reservations, we frequently had somewhere we had to be. This type of trip didn’t allow for spontaneity. E.g. when we visited Scotland we rented a car and were able to visit random castles and museums without prep work or fighting crowds. Perhaps I could’ve had more fun or spontaneity by seeing less (I definitely wouldn’t want a car within Florence or Rome proper but I think the countryside/smaller towns would be okay), but when you only get so much time off for work, you try to squeeze it all in.
Food: Everyone comes for the main attraction which of course is the various pastas, but Italy does so much better than pasta. Yeah, I said it. The chicken I had there on two separate occasions from two different restaurants? Immaculate. I’ll never have more perfectly cooked chicken again. The deli meats? So flavorful. I ordered a yogurt with lemon and honey in CT (where they grow a lot of lemons) and I’ll think of that fondly for years to come. I also had a fantastic affogato in Florence.
As I mentioned, we did get food poisoning which can happen while traveling, but I did notice unless you’re going to a proper sit down restaurant, you might see people handling your food in ways that are unappetizing. In cafes and sandwich shops and quick bite places like that you won’t see food handlers using gloves and you’ll likely have dirty cups/plates/utensils. Not a big deal for some, not for me though.
We avoided the super touristy areas for our real dinners, but while the pasta was done well, the red sauce just wasn’t hitting for either of us.
I apologize if this comes off as a less than idyllic portrayal of Italy. It’s a beautiful country that is worth a visit, but I wanted to share my experience and maybe highlight it’s not for everyone and that’s okay.
Edit: formatting

ACT 1. Sunday afternoon after visiting the local market two brothers wait for their train to arrive. If they were even a minute late, they knew their mother would surely scold them and scold the elder of the two far worse. The idea of another beating did not bother the elder brother; he had been through far worse just dealing with the brat and his attempted jailbreaks, though something did begin to make him painfully nauseous forcing him to feel pressured by the light breeze as if gravity had suddenly been increased tenfold. All his senses were heightening beyond anything he had thought possible.All around him he saw that the once energetic and hyperactive passengers had become little more than mannequins; their movements slowing to a standstill. They had all gone silent. The station was no longer filled with the cries of children or the gentle laughs of their parents. He had never heard such silence in such a crowded location. He did not feel panicked, nor did he feel a need to act for this silence was oddly comforting to him. However, the newly calm atmosphere would quickly be the source of a lifetime of suffering.His hand began to reach for his brother in an attempt to call his attention. Though in a moment of both unprecedented shock and exhaustion John shoved his younger brother onto the rails of an oncoming train. Local news would report the incident as nothing more than a tragic manic episode of a young sixteen-year-old. However, for John this single visceral instant in which all of his brother's bones were instantly crushed was stretched into hours. He was painfully aware of how every bone in his brother's body contorted in inhuman ways some nearly resembling perfect right angles, until eventually, they snapped and sent insurmountable pain throughout his nervous system. His blood curling screams were made mute by the screech of the train coming to a halt, though, by the time they stopped, his brother had torn his every vocal cord and had long ago lost consciousness. Still on the platform, the elder brother stood still, attempting to process what exactly he had done. He had no idea what force had compelled him to push his brother, but that instant would forever define what he saw as reality.That however was nineteen years ago, in present day he lived in isolation far from any person. He spent his isolated days wandering the land around his cabin completing house chores that distracted him from reminiscing about his days in the asylum or as he liked to call it “The Echo Room” where he was transferred after the incident. He headed inside after spending a portion of his morning counting all one-hundred-and-thirty-two trees that were showing signs of life after the harsh winter that nearly forced him to cut down two of them for firewood. Once inside he began preparing his morning coffee when he heard a loud creak come from the hall. He (after many incidents) learnt to avoid the boards that creaked, so in his mind immediately an intruder was breaking into his cabin searching for food or his stash of special edition coffee. Deciding to investigate he walked towards the noise when suddenly he heard two knocks at his front door. Confused and slightly worried, he proceeded to walk towards the door making sure not to step on any of the annoyingly loud floorboards.He approached and looked through the peephole and saw only what remained of the melting snow outside. Opening the door, he saw that only his steps led to the doormat. He glanced around and saw no indication of any life aside a few dark patches on the snow. He was about to close the door when he noticed a tiny red package wrapped in a radiant red bow placed clear from where the door would open. Cautiously picking it up, he noticed how it had almost no weight to it; as if empty. He walked inside and sat at his desk planning to journal later about the weird morning he had been having. He examined the exterior of the package and saw how not only was it near perfect condition but it was also slightly warm to the touch; as if recently held. He undid the bow and cautiously opened the package, half expecting an explosive of some sort. Though, all he found was a ragged ripped piece of paper. Unremarkable aside from the fact that it was inside such a carefully constructed package. On the other side he saw that it had some scarlet lettering inscribed into it reading.“Ouroboros”. At first believing it to be a prank by the kids who had heard rumors about him, and his incident, nearly caused him to dismiss it entirely deeming it little more than a slightly humorous event. He decided to put it aside for now as he had coffee left to drink that was quickly getting cold. He walked back towards the kitchen still distracted by the idea of no trace being left by whoever had left the gift. Was it even a gift? Maybe it was just some well-executed prank? In any manner he would later have a better look at it. He absentmindedly, reached for his cup and immediately pulled his hand back shocked by the temperature of the cup. It was frozen! Almost to a complete solid. He thought himself slightly distracted but not enough to freeze his morning coffee especially not his special edition coffee. First The Box and now this, it was all adding up to an annoying morning. Was it still morning? No, that’s not right. He had just spent the day counting trees. How could it still possibly be morning?The thought of Dr. Lumis being correct about his mental condition after so many years sent a chill down his spine especially since last time they talked, he did not exactly behave amicably. He was sure that both incidents had been isolated events that could never happen again. Sure, he had heard the echoes every once in a while, but he was never insane like the others; this he knew to be a fact. If he was insane, how could he have ever left? Disoriented and beginning to sweat, his legs suddenly gave out causing him to fall backward landing on the cold wooden floorboards. He looked around hurriedly expecting to see an intruder that had somehow found him. After seeing nothing but his pristine furniture, he steadied himself and began to control his breathing. He slowly got up causing the wood underneath to creak under the sudden release of weight. Deciding to further assure himself he went around the cabin checking in all four rooms. He found nothing aside from his own disturbances. Still feeling slightly nervous and disturbed he headed back towards the living room in search for The Box with the red bow determining that it had somehow triggered his current situation. The Box was still where he placed it; much to his relief. He sat down. He looked once again at the scarlet lettering.
Act 2. Back in the asylum he would often spend his days wondering how he could have ever been grouped alongside individuals who had purposefully and viciously committed heinous crimes against innocent victims. He was not insane like them. Whatever had caused his hand to shove his brother had long abandoned him. His routine now consisted of cleaning whatever mess the older residents made in the halls and transporting lab waste to the crematorium. He would clean from the southern stalls all the way to the northern cemetery and make his rounds gathering the waste from the rooms. It was a simple job but lonely, nonetheless. The halls were often only illuminated by tiny flickering red lights that indicated the position of the cameras through which Dr.Lumis would often monitor John during his nightly crusades. Though incredibly distasteful, John did not mind, he accepted that odd situations would be easier to explain if someone of credit had seen them. Yet despite this, he felt he was being watched by someone other than the doctor. He assumed that this feeling was due to the paranoia he had been diagnosed with a few months back. On a particular night, moments after dumping another bag of soft solids and dense liquids down the chute, he heard footsteps, just outside the room. Expecting to see the doctor he begrudgingly walked towards the door. Exiting and seeing no one he called out for the doctor but got no response aside from the echo of his own voice. He began to walk towards where he had heard the footsteps come from when he suddenly collapsed out of exhaustion. The same exhaustion that had plagued him during the moment of his brother’s death. He tried to reach for his panic button (a gift from Lumis) but it had disappeared from his chain. He tried to scream but not a single whisper was heard. He gazed into the dark corridor where he had thought Dr.Lumis had gone, but saw nothing but soft shadows. Though something was unnervingly wrong about them. They moved as if following an order, all synchronized, all heading towards him. That night in the asylum had left him scared to even return to the disposal area; he feared that The Shadows might eventually be able to reach him. The Shadows did not haunt him unaccompanied: they followed alongside The Echo tormenting his nights. While The Shadows could not reach him during daylight, he could never escape The Echo. It followed wherever he went and tracked everything he did. Dr.Lumis explained that he merely suffered from an extreme case paranoia but John saw the others; who yelled and who screamed true nonsense, he was perfectly aware of himself and the ones around him. Dr. Lumis secretly believed patient #132 experienced Hyper-sanity though this he would never verbally confess. It was term he decided would for now adequately describe his patient’s acute awareness of The Shadows and The Echo. John would for many years go without hearing The Echo after that night, only ever hearing what seemed like the final moans of a dying voice. Back in present day, he hoped he wasn’t suffering another hallucination as they tended to leave him in an embarrassing shocked state. He questioned what “Ouroboros” could possibly mean in relation to himself. He considered the possibility of it being an early warning of some threat to the sanctity of his home. He quickly dismissed it as he had not interacted with anyone long enough to possibly annoy them. Weird them out? Sure. Offend them? Maybe with his sense of fashion. Following his incredibly fine-tuned survival instincts he put on a light coat and went outside to walk among the trees. A mundane task, but one he truly enjoyed especially since he hoped it would distract him for a short while. Just before he closed the door behind him, he took one more look at The Box sitting on his desk and decided to take it with him in case he met the person who had left it. The sun had begun to set marking the end of the day. He watched the sun hide behind the mountain range letting the world bathe in darkness for another night. John did not dislike the night (he had worked nightshifts in The Echo Room for years) but he didn’t find the freezing cold to be ideal. He had not left his land for what was a few years now and the idea of even slightly stepping out of his comfort was making him incredibly anxious. Still, he walked forward towards wherever the path took him. The night only got darker and quieter, and he only got colder. He did not see the lightning bugs that usually warded away the dark near the edge of his hill. Without the soft hum of bugs or soft breeze that would brush against his beard he felt alone. Even the nights back in the asylum did not possess this level of quiet. He kept moving hoping that eventually he would find something that could break the uncomfortable silence. As he continued down the hill, he realized he could no longer distinguish the path from the dirt surrounding it. He considered heading back when he realized he had not kept track of where he had come from. Not only was he lost but alone with his thoughts and whatever had been watching him from the start. He walked a step forward and then another one back repeatedly. What he was attempting to achieve was beyond reason. Had he gone mad? No, he was perfectly sane. “Wait, I can hear them clearly now” he spoke, his voice dried from the cold.“This is not a hallucination” he spoke softly.“i-I AM NOT HALLUCINATING” he proclaimed. He heard The Echo once more though they were not of his voice but rather of Another. He had long been aware of “The Echo” but he could never fully determine whether it was a dream or an effect of the chemicals but this Other was undoubtedly real. “I don’t know where you are but please. Are you real?” he asked the night. He could now hear The Echo or rather feel the pressure of its words upon his reality. Had it been trying to hide the Other? He walked forward and pulled out The Box. “You gave me this right? What for? What purpose does it serve?” No one responded.Annoyed, he threw it as far as he could down the hill. “THERE! THIS CAN’T CONTINUE WITHOUT IT, RIGHT?” He shouted at the endless empty. That’s when out of the darkness emerged a faint light. Was it a lightning bug or maybe a sign of civilization?
Act 3. Cautiously, he approached the cold light and saw that the light was artificial. The tube inside flickered before another appeared a few feet ahead, and then another and then another and then what seemed like an uncountable amount more. He took a step forward and noticed that the ground underneath had turned to hard white tile. Accepting that this was not the weirdest occurrence that had affected him he proceeded to walk forward making sure to keep a mental note to journal about it later. The surrounding landscape transformed into white walls that every so often had a window that let him peek at the other side. At first, he could still see the snowy landscape, but it to slowly changed; first having scattered papers and then chairs, cabinets, and desks until they eventually resembled a typical office. Its purpose was not obvious to him, and neither was the hallway but if they were changing surely, it possessed a deeper metaphorical meaning that related to his life. He saw a door at the very end of the hall and decided to not postpone the ploy of whatever “The Echo” was planning. He stood before the door wondering about what it could possibly contain. John proceeded to open the door. Inside was a desk along with a single cabinet. Walking inside he noticed that the room was illuminated by some otherworldly source that had no words that could possibly describe it. He walked towards the desk and a file he had not seen previously, sat open. Inside was a description of his physical appearance. “Age: 35. Height: 5’8. Weight: 185 lbs. Hair: Black with obvious signs of stress. Eyes: Brown. Character Aptitude: High.” “Okay, I get it. I’m old, you didn’t have to expose my hair like that” he said slightly embarrassed quickly restyling his hair. He noticed that even though they had an almost perfect description of his hobbies, dreams and wishes they did not have a single picture as if they for some reason were only able to use words. “SOOO you know about that one time in the asylum (don’t ask) BUT NOT A SINGLE PICTURE? That’s lame.” he said mockingly. On the final page he found what looked like an incomplete file; most of the personal attributes had not yet been filled and only a note was made reading. “They don’t need a complete story just one they can understand.” Besides the fact that whatever role he played in this act had been a mere afterthought; he was confused as to how anyone could have ever gathered such sensitive and personal information about his isolated life. Was it The Echo? Had it told them his life? A phone started to ring somewhere in the room abruptly breaking the silence he had become used to. He quickly rotated towards the source of the ringing but did not find anything. There was only him and the four walls that despite the lighting did not change a shade of grey. He walked towards one of them that seemed to be where the noise came from resting his hand on it and gently put his ear to it thinking that the ringing was from another room entirely. The wall he had just laid a hand on had no longer a physical representation and causing John to fall through to the other side. Disoriented he slowly looked up and saw The Telephone illuminated by what seemed to be the same light that illuminated the previous room. This one however was far more powerful and concentrated solely on The Telephone. He approached it expecting a chasm to somehow appear underneath his feet. The Telephone did not stop ringing and only seemed to increase in intensity (though this could have simply been a hallucination). He lifted it to cut the blaring noise and slowly put it to his ear. “hello?” “…” “…” “The protagonist only dies if the story ends” the voice said quietly. “HUH? YOU DRAGGED ME HERE TO TELL ME THAT OMINOUSLY ANNOYING LOAD OF *********!” “…I’m so sorry” The call disconnected not out of offense but rather out of completion. John slammed the phone back onto its stand and decided it was time for this nonsense to end. He walked out into the room he was in before anxiously attempting to find another exit: only to be met with solid walls. What wicked game had he been roped into? When would it end? These were questions he would answer far earlier than he expected. A door appeared in the center of the room. No, it was more of a two-dimensional plane that appeared to be a sort of portal. With no other options, John stepped into the newly opened portal.
Act 4. On the other side was a station, and his ears were immediately flooded with the cries of children and the laughs of their parents. He walked around moving through the crowd careful to not miss any indication of the location. His pace increased as he began to recognize the commuters shortly realizing exactly where he was. He rushed to a platform, the platform where he and his brother were to arrive after their day in the market. He sat on a nearby bench committed to saving his brother no matter who he would have to shove instead. Three agonizing days passed with the daily commuters repeating their routine with the slightest variations. One of these variations would be the key to preventing the day that haunted his nights. Something would soon cause him to shove his brother onto the tracks. He was determined to stop the fall or kill himself to keep his brother safe.He heard a familiar laughter and turned towards the source and saw his brothers face uncontrollably laughing and himself lightly smiling. He began to run towards them but felt once again suddenly exhausted. As if the air became a type of nonnewtonian sludge making his legs impossibly heavy. The crowd around him seemed to be moving just as easily as before; children laughing just as maniacally and just as carelessly. He tried to yell to them, but his lungs were filled with the dense fluid drowning any screams he attempted. He was forced to watch how his brother got closer and closer to the edge. Through much effort, he managed to get close enough to extend a hand towards his past trying to desperately push him away from his brother. The past reacted in what seemed to be a defensive system and sent a temporal anomaly throughout the space his past and present inhabited. Time began to exponentially speed forward. In a last desperate attempt to prevent his brother’s death he tried to distract the past long enough to let the train pass without incident, but the temporal anomaly caused the relative slow velocity of his touch to have the effect of a sudden jerk and in his final moments of consciousness he saw his brother accelerate towards the rails in a split second. He awoke back in the office alone with nothing, but the realization of what force had killed his brother. He curled into the fetal position and began to cry; still believing his lungs to be filled with the dense liquid he did not let out a single sigh. He spent several hours in this state of painful silence without even opening his eyes. His emotions were chaotic and his thoughts unending. They tormented him for hours far after he had run out of tears to let out. They were merciless and torturous forbidding him from resting, insisting on his suffering. Being the cause of his brother’s death nearly caused him to go insane yet part of him kept insisting that Another was to blame. Another had caused him to do it. The Other had forced his hand. Of this, he was now sure. The Other enjoyed his suffering, The Other forced him to kill his brother. He had not eaten nor slept in what seemed like years and yet he stood up defying the gravity that held him down. He took a deep breath of as much oxygen as his lungs allowed and began to speak. “Whoever you are. Whatever you are. Wherever you are. Just know I will no longer play for your entertainment the rest is entirely my choice” he said threateningly. He then began to walk forwards confidently towards the dark wall and through the hidden door that he was not supposed to see. He entered what seemed to be a studio room though, unlike the sterile office; it was trashed. Papers littered the floor and empty bottles populated the lone mattress. On it laid a journal that had recently had liquid spilt on it. He picked the journal and gently opened it and began to read. It was scratched with the stray ideas of a creator who seemed to have never decided upon an end or beginning to his story; yet possessing the journey. He saw many ideas that together seemed to create a way for the continuity to depend entirely on Another rather than itself. A thought described in a single word interested him enough to take it with him. The room started to dissolve around him transforming into a cold landscape. Armed with the knowledge of who he was he treaded what remained of the worn-out path. The sun began to rise signing the start of another day, yet John did not seem to notice as he was focused on something buried in the snow. He could not see much of it yet he knew it was The Box he had thrown the previous night. He dug it up and began his walk up the hill once more. He eventually arrived at his cabin and walked towards his front door….
Act 5.
If you wish to rebel; continue reading on the next page.
Begin the story once more on Truth 2.
If you wish to ward away The Other; don’t read any further
If you wish to follow The Echo read Truth 3
To understand turn to Truth 4
Truth 1
…Before deciding that no longer would he be a puppet for someone’s amusement. John arrogantly began marched back down the hill and headed north towards the nearest interstate a few miles from his home hoping that he had derailed The Echo’s plot. It took him hours on foot, but he would eventually come across the road and start his journey back to civilization no longer subject to the whims of an Otherworldly Audience. He believed his future was now his to decide. He decided what he would become. He decided when and what to think. This he was sure would be how he escaped his torment. John suddenly suffered a complete body collapse and fell forward landing face first onto the scorching road. It would be several sweltering hours before anyone would find him. But eventually someone did, john suffering heavy burns and on the brink of death was saved. He would awake months later in a hospital bed though no one would ever know of this. Weeks would pass as john laid in the hospital bed unable to speak or even move; alerting no one to his consciousness. The doctors and nurses were busy with whatever important patients needed immediate attention; they walked from one end to the other in what seemed like mere minutes. The entire time the only company he had was The Echo and yet slowly it too seemed to forget his existence as well. Eventually The Echo having no interest went away.Jane a third-year medical student had recently joined the staff a month prior and had already been assigned two elders and one child. Though overwhelmed she did not grow annoyed nor frustrated; she loved her job and by proxy her patients. Despite her benevolent nature there was a single patient she never went near as he always seemed to be watching her despite his eyes being shut for over four months. Any time she got near to patient #132 she would begin to get nauseous and quickly retreat. She had no ID on the man, but it seemed he was dehydrated for far longer than should’ve been possible and should be by all accounts dead if not near it. Whenever she worked nightshifts, she would swear that she heard the man whimper slightly as if to warn her of something. Even when she was on the opposite side of the building, she would hear the echo of his groans. She would eventually be transferred and would soon forget the man who after 6 months was officially declared braindead and was due to be disposed of, yet she would still every once in a while, still hear The Echo. Forgotten Ending
Truth 2…Realizing that there was no other choice John took a step forward while placing the note he ripped from the journal into The Box making sure to keep it neatly packaged. He saw the footprints he had left two nights before and carefully stepped into each one making sure to not disturb the surrounding snow. Whatever…Whoever had set him on this path allowed him to live a life of suffering, a life of loss, and a life of pain. This, he felt was the way things were intended to play out; the way it had to end. He placed The Box on the final step making sure it would not be knocked away whenever the door would eventually open. He walked away nearly to the edge of the property when he looked back once more. Managing to peek inside he saw his past still making his coffee when he saw an almost invisible distortion appear near the front door. He smiled and turned away only saying…Freedom ending
Truth 3…though spotting a disturbance near the back of the cabin distracted him from the front door. He decided to investigate for fear of losing a single blossoming tree. Arriving near the back fence he saw no indication of a disturbance giving him much needed reassurance. He heard noise emerge from inside the cabin giving him one more dilemma to deal with. He headed to the backdoor making sure to not disturb the recent snow and entered the cabin. Being sleep deprived and without coffee he had forgotten about the wooden floor and stepped on one that caused a creak to be heard throughout the cabin. He quickly hid in the bathroom fearing that he had disturbed the continuity that The Echo had established when suddenly a bright flash blinded him. He found himself at the front door next to The Box. Slightly amused he proceeded to knock on the door and was soon after transported once more to an empty hall. Both confused and entertained as he was being transported from one place in time to another he took a few steps forward alerting the past to his presence. Seeing his past enter the hall he ducked and quickly hid around the corner. His past seemed to believe that the doctor was in the halls and decided to investigate though just as he was nearing closer; his past collapsed. John saw how his fall was slowed as if moving through the dense liquid he had once gone through. He walked towards his past and noticed an old fashioned panic button that would instantly call Dr.Lumis to his location. Measuring the consequences, he decided to remove the panic button and head back towards The Shadows. For a third and final time he was transported to a final location, the bottom of a snowy hill. Taking in his surroundings he noticed burn marks on the snow where his past would eventually walk through the portal whenever the past caught up. He reached into his pocket and realized how the plot was supposed to move forward. He walked until he reached the exact point where his past would once again find The Box. He kneeled and buried The Box making sure to erase any evidence of his own disturbances. Fully fulfilling his purpose John collapsed. The End.
“Did the hero die?” “What?” “Did he die?” “No? He beat the bad guy and saved the day remember?” “Yea but like AFTER.” “Well, I guess after a few years he would.” “No” The young child said growing annoyed, “when you said, “The End” did he die?” “No.” responded the elder brother. “Then what happened to him? Is he still alive?” “The protagonist only dies if you stop reading.” concluded the elder brother as if possessed. Begin again?
Truth 4…Then just as he took his first step forward everything began to rot. His trees, his home, his coffee, all of it was slowly eroding into a fine dust. He knew that another temporal anomaly would be the likely cause, but he had not yet experienced one that possessed this level of molecular destruction. The fabric of his reality was slowly and thoroughly being untangled into its most simple of compositions. It separated the light from dark, gravity from time, and words from spaces.John could now comprehend what had defined his reality for so many painful years, he finally understood The Narrative and how all possible endings had been chosen long before his creation. John had been a slave from the moment The Narrative began; not once in his entire existence had he ever had a real choice only walking paths already treaded by Another. He was nothing but a plot device in an otherwise self-indulging tale written by a gentle master forced to be cruel for those above. From the moment this story began, John was in pain. He could never hope to truly escape; he could only die until he arose once more. Had John never understood what his life really was then maybe he could’ve found meaning in his suffering. Unfortunately, this choice has now forced John to become aware of how truly meaningless his existence was. His life was little more than entertainment for The Other; they were the ones truly in control. For as long as The Other remained, The Echo would doom John to eternal suffering. The Echo was never in control of The Narrative; he too was merely a subject to it by an even greater force. The Echo did not wish for John to suffer but The Other would not allow John to live if he did not. It is a toxic cycle of pain, suffering and realization that forces John to relive The Narrative lifetime after lifetime. The Narrative must have suffering intertwined into its foundation otherwise The Other would grow bored and erase the reality ending John in but a mere thought. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is reality; John cannot exist without pain, The Echo cannot live without a narrative, and The Other is you. THE END......
Intended to be a philosophical narrative detailing the tragic relationship between the reader, the narrator, and the character and how they cannot coexist without hurting each other.

**Introduction**
1)Will this be your first dog? If not, what experience do you have owning/training dogs?
* YES
2)Do you have a preference for rescuing a dog vs. going through a [reputable breeder]( http://ownresponsibly.blogspot.com/2011/07/identifying-reputable-breeder.html)?
* PREFER A BREEDER, BUT RESCUES ARE AN OPTION
3)Describe your ideal dog.
* HARDY, SMALL TO MEDIUM-SIZED, NOT A LOT OF BARKING, NOT A TON OF SHEDDING, TRAINABLE, MEDIUM ACTIVITY, FETCH AND WALK AROUND THE BLOCK, RUN A MILE OR TWO OCCASIONALLY, HIKING
4)What breeds or types of dogs are you interested in and why?
* LABRADOR RETRIEVER (FAMILIAR), DANISH-SWEDISH FARMDOG (INTELLIGENT, GOOD WITH KIDS), TERRIERS (AFFECTIONATE)
5)What sorts of things would you like to train your dog to do?
* CRATE TRAINED, FETCH, WALK WITH A LEASH, SIT, NOT JUMP ON PEOPLE
6) Do you want to compete with your dog in a sport (e.g. agility, obedience, rally) or use your dog for a form of work (e.g. hunting, herding, livestock guarding)? If so, how much experience do you have with this work/sport?
* NO
**Care Commitments**
7) How long do you want to devote to training, playing with, or otherwise interacting with your dog each day?
* 3-4 HOURS DAILY BETWEEN 4 FAMILY MEMBERS
8) How long can you exercise your dog each day, on average? What sorts of exercise are you planning to give your dog regularly and does that include using a dog park?
* 5, 30 MINUTE WALKS PER WEEK, 2-3 LONGER WALKS OR RUNS PER MONTH, ~2-3 5-10 MILE HIKES PER YEAR
9)How much regular brushing are you willing to do? Are you open to trimming hair, cleaning ears, or doing other grooming at home? If not, would you be willing to pay a professional to do it regularly?
* OPEN TO DOING SOME GROOMING 2-3 HOURS A WEEK AND PAYING A PRO ON OCCASION
**Personal Preferences**
10)What size dog are you looking for?
* SMALL TO MEDIUM
11) How much shedding, barking, and slobber can you handle?
* SOME SHEDDING IS OK (SEASONAL?), MINIMAL BARKING, MINIMAL SLOBBER
12) How important is being able to let your dog off-leash in an unfenced area?
* NOT IMPORTANT
**Dog Personality and Behavior**
13) Do you want a snuggly dog or one that prefers some personal space?
* SNUGGLY
14) Would you prefer a dog that wants to do its own thing or one that’s more eager-to-please?
* PREFER ONE TO DO IT'S OWN THING, BUT I'M GOOD EITHER WAY
15) How would you prefer your dog to respond to someone knocking on the door or entering your yard? How would you prefer your dog to greet strangers or visitors?
* A SLIGHT BARK OR TWO WOULD BE FINE, BUT NOT REPETITIVE
16) Are you willing to manage a dog that is aggressive to other dogs?
* SOMEWHAT
17) Are there any other behaviors you can’t deal with or want to avoid?
* JUMPING ON PEOPLE
**Lifestyle**
18) How often and how long will the dog be left alone?
* 4-6 HOURS 2-3 TIMES PER WEEK
19) What are the dog-related preferences of other people in the house and what will be their involvement in caring for the dog?
* WE'RE ALL IN AGREEMENT WITH THE PREFERENCES, FAMILY OF 4 WILL SHARE IN DUTIES
20) Do you have other pets or are you planning on having other pets? What breed or type of animal are they?
* NO OTHER PETS AND NO PLANS
21) Will the dog be interacting with children regularly?
* YES TWO KIDS BETWEEN 9 AND 13
22) Do you rent or plan to rent in the future? If applicable, what breed or weight restrictions are on your current lease?
* NO
23) What city or country do you live in and are you aware of any laws banning certain breeds?
* MICHIGAN, USA
24) What is the average temperature of a typical summer and winter day where you live?
* 75 IN THE SUMMER AND 15 IN THE WINTER
**Additional Information and Questions**
25) Please provide any additional information you feel may be relevant.
* I WORK FROM HOME 2-3 DAYS / WEEK. WE CAN AFFORD OCCASIONAL BOARDING. WE OFTEN GO ON CAMPING, HIKING VACATIONS
26) Feel free to ask any questions below.