You guys know what an alpine coaster is? They are like a small roller coaster you find in the mountains. They are also called summer toboggans or mountain coasters and I think there’s some long German compound word they are called in parts of Europe. They are like a roller coaster, but with much smaller one or two person sleds you just sit on instead of multi-person cars you ride in, and instead of being built with like a scaffolding or a framework the tracks are just on the ground, using the elevation of the mountain. Basically it’s a coaster track on the side of a mountain where you ride a sled down.
They are pretty fun. Or at least I used to think so. They are more “personal” than roller coasters and although you get nowhere near the speed on them that you do on a good traditional roller coaster and they can’t do corkscrews or loops or anything like that the openness and simplicity of the ride gives an impression of a much greater speed. You’re just sitting there with nothing but a little plastic sled and the track between you and the ground as it goes zooming by. It’s like the difference between how fast a go-cart feels compared to how fast a sports car feels. You know the sports car goes faster but the open, simpleness of a go-cart feels a different kind of fast. There’s plenty of POV Youtube videos if you want to get the basic idea of what they are.
I used to love alpine coasters. Used to.
My family used to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and up and down the Smokey Mountains for vacations when I was a kid and they are common in that area and I’d always rode them every chance I got.
But as with so many things after I grew up and went to college they just became part of my childhood that slipped away. They aren’t exactly common once you get away from the mountains.
Until one cool spring afternoon in 2004. I was in my final year at college and I was driving back to campus in Tennessee after a short visit to my folks in North Carolina. It was only like a 4 or 5 hour drive via the most efficient route and I had no need to be back at campus early so instead of taking the freeway all the way I got off and took part of my trip through the mountains. The scenery was nicer and I admit I liked pushing my Camaro just a little faster than I should through the twisty mountain roads.
Just after lunchtime happened upon one of those little by-the-highway tourist towns deep somewhere in the Smoky Mountains near the Carolina/Tennessee border. Nothing fancy, a gas station/truck stop, a diner, a couple of places selling tourist merch nestled deep in the mountains. I pulled into the gas station. My tank was getting low and I needed to stretch my legs, maybe grab something to eat. It was still early and I only had another couple of hours. I could kill an hour or so and still make it back to campus at a decent hour.
I pulled into the gas station and was filling my tank when I happened to glance across the road and… well I’ll be damned. There it was. “The Blue Ridge Alpine Coaster.” Nestled on the side of the mountain was a building, a mockup of a red barn, where a single railed track that led up into the mountains, where it soon got lost in the greenery. Wooden hand painted standees of cartoon character bears dressed in stereotypical “Hillbilly” getup stood around, some of them holding signs showing the ride hours and ticket costs and other info. I had to admit, as silly as it was, it made me smile.I finished pumping my gas and, well, nostalgia is a helluva thing. I decided then and there I could waste a little time riding an Alpine Coaster again after all these years before getting back on the road.
I parked my car in a corner of the truck stop's parking lot, put my phone in the center console, this being the days before smart phones when people didn’t keep their phones with them 24/7 and I didn’t want my old Nokia brick phone to fall out during the ride, locked my car and walked across the mountain highway to the Alpine Coaster building.
Getting closer, the place was less inviting. The half hearted attempt at a whimsical faux-Americana kitsch was far less effective when it brushed up against the actual decaying, run down wooden building. Hell calling it a building was generous. It was a wood frame holding up a long roof that covered the area where you got on the sleds. The wood boards creaked under my footsteps.
The only real enclosed structure was a shack that held, what I assumed, was a ticket booth. A door on the side had both a single occupancy bathroom with an out of order sign on it. An old Pepsi machine buzzed and glowed next to it.
Still the place looked alive. Ahead of me a bored looking attendant was helping a mother and her young son into one of the sleds while in a bored monotone repeating the safety brief. A few people were waiting in line at the ticket booth. Up in the mountains the playful shouts of people on the ride echoed down. Fond memories of my own childhood rides flooded my mind.10 minutes and 15 dollars later I was settling into the hard plastic seat of a bright red sled sat atop a simple aluminum rail.
I couldn’t help but grin as the sled slowly climbed the track up the mountains, making click-clack ratcheting sounds that hit my nostalgia centers hard. I felt good. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of pine.Higher and higher in the mountains we went. I don’t know if this is my mind trying to make sense of it after the fact but when I remember these moments, the last good moments, I sometimes think I remember a very slight, very subtle pit of fear in my stomach. I honestly don’t know if I felt it at the time or not or it’s just how my mind tries to make sense of it looking back at.
But either way mostly I was enjoying myself. I smiled. I was a kid again. I could hear riders in front of me let out that initial yell of terrified glee you get at the first drop of any good ride.
It peaked. I glanced around. I could see for miles, rolling hills and mountains. I the sled tipped over and zoomed down the mountain and I let out the same happy yell I heard from the other passengers.The ride zoomed down the mountain, catching speed. The mountain forest floor zoomed past, only a few feet under me. Trees zoomed past. I gave out a happy whoop as the ride banked hard around a curve and then looped back under itself.Another dip, another curve. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the G-forces pulling me every which way.
There was no one exact single moment where things started to go “wrong.” The ride kept going. And going. At this point the first creeping thought entered my head.
The ride… was still going.
It just started to hit me… this ride was going on for a really long time. I had taken a dozen rides on various coasters of this type before that day and they topped out at about 5 minutes or so, and that was the long ones. Longer than a traditional roller coaster but not that long. This one had been going on for what felt like 10, maybe even 15 minutes.
I looked back over my shoulder and could only see trees, moving too fast to really get a bearing on where I was at in relation to anything.
I wasn't exactly really worried yet. Okay so I had found a particularly long alpine coaster. At the time I wasn’t 100% wasn't sure they didn’t exist or anything like that. I was a little… unnerved but nothing was happening that was impossible. Yet.
I was trying to talk myself back into just enjoying the ride and stop overthinking it, and halfway succeeded, when out of nowhere I suddenly banked hard, the track jutting out almost over a sheer cliffside. I gripped the sled more tightly as I was whipped around. The ride then dipped hard and picked up speed, barreling down the side of the mountain.
I was pushed back against the seat by the force of the drop. Jesus I didn’t remember them being this rough. I was feeling slightly nauseous. And where had this elevation drop come from I wondered? I was still in the foothills and I didn’t remember seeing anything but gentle rolling hills and light drops from looking at the ride’s route earlier. How the ride had managed such a long, steep drop in this area I didn’t know. . For the first time I hoped that the ride would be over soon. I had no idea then how much I would want that same hope to be true so much more as time went on.
With a whiplash motion I was whipped forward and then back as the ride leveled out on flat ground again, but by this point I was going fast, too fast. My neck hurt from the mild whiplash and I felt sour in my throat and for a moment the contents of my stomach threatened to come back up. For the first, but hardly the last time the ride felt unsafe. Alpine Coasters are tame affairs, much slower and gentler than full on roller coasters but this thing was throwing me around like no thrill ride I had ever been on.
I looked around. I mean I wasn’t that deep into the woods. I should have been able to see a glimpse of something; the highway, the gas station, the tourist shops, the Alpine Coaster office, something, anything. But nothing. Just trees.
I forced back some panic for the first time. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The ride zoomed along. I counted to 60. I counted to 60 again. And again. Okay this was getting uncomfortably harder and harder to explain.
Suddenly I noticed that up ahead the track seemed to just end, for one brief, terrible moment I thought the track just ended but I was wrong. Almost without warning the track dipped in an almost vertical drop. I almost screamed as I plummeted for 20, maybe 30 seconds before flattening out again.
By this point the voice in my head that was telling me something was wrong was louder and I could no longer tell myself it was wrong. This ride could not have been this long. I tried to make sense of it, wondering if somehow I had gotten diverted onto some kind of maintenance track or, hell for one brief irrational moment even entertaining the idea that I had wound up on an actual train track somehow. But that was absurd. The rail below me was not a train track, it was still just the simple, aluminum rail of an alpine coaster and there had been no diversions or junctions in the track. I was still on the ride, as insane as that was starting to feel. Had the ride somehow looped? Again after having the thought I immediately dismissed it as crazy. There’s no way I could have missed the ride building where I got on. And what kind of ride loops over and over?
The sled zoomed through the forest, oddly never seeming to lose speed despite the relatively flat grade of the track. I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car and not wearing a watch. I don’t know exactly how long I had been on the ride at that point but it felt like I had been on the ride for a half hour, maybe more. But time is a funny thing when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in. Could have been more, could have been less, at that point.
My pride finally failed me. I started to scream for help. I screamed out that the ride was broken, to stop it, that I needed help. I did that for about ten minutes or so I think. The ride kept going. Mostly flat, level track with occasional mild dips and turns. But the simple length of the ride grew more and more unnerving and unexplainable.
I thought about just bailing out. But the ride, impossibly, was still not slowing down and chunks of mountain rock and thick tree trunks were all around me. Bailing out without risking smashing into a rock or a tree seemed impossible.
The ride kept going.
Up ahead the forest was clearing out some, I could see the forest brightening, more sunlight making it through the canopy.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
The trees stopped and I had just enough time to take in a flat, open area of rock maybe 40, 50 yards at most before another sheer cliff. The tracks twisted and turned and then shot straight down. But that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment, a very short moment, I had a clear view for miles and the landscape was, to be blunt, totally impossible. Any possibility that I had just stumbled on some incredibly long ride was blasted out of my head. Barren, volcanic looking rock stretched for miles. Jagged, black rocky outcroppings as far as the eye could see. I was in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. They don’t look like that.
I had a few moments for the terror of that view to settle in before the cart plunged into another horrifying drop. I gripped the handles of the cheap plastic sled until my knuckles turned white. The drop felt completely vertical, like I was falling at terminal velocity. I screamed. My stomach dropped and turned. I imagined the sled coming away from the track and me just plummeting screaming to my death on the rocks below. But somehow the ride still functioned. I closed my eyes tightly and just waited for whatever was going to happen. Eventually after several what felt like a full minute of steep plunging the track again leveled out, and I opened my eyes to see myself moving at breakneck speed over that black, rocky landscape.
Now that I was moving on a more or less flat horizontal track again I took a few deep breaths. I looked over the edge of the track. Nothing but that black, jagged rock, almost looking like obsidian, zooming past. I had no idea how fast the sled was moving now. Fast. Faster than a gravity powered sled should be moving. And the track was higher off the ground now. Alpine slides usually stick pretty close to the ground, but I was 20 feet or so in the air, the track suspended in the air, a simple metal tube tower like a power pylon every few yards.
Without any immediate threat and the sled moving fast but steadily and level I was able to think about my situation again, for all the good that did me. Ahead of me the track just continued to the horizon, nothing but the same rocky landscape as far as I could see. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder and looked back behind me and it looked the same. Even the mountains were but distant specs on the horizon behind me.
This was insane. There’s not a giant seemingly endless field of black jagged rock in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. There’s no cliff faces tall and steep enough for a multi-minute vertical drop. And alpine coasters were small affairs, not major engineering projects that span miles with pylons and vertical tracks. It made no sense.
Sadly it wasn’t going to start making any more sense anytime soon.
The ride kept going.
I was on this rocky landscape for several hours. I feel comfortable saying this because I could actually notice the sun getting lower in the sky. And the sled wasn’t slowing down despite the grade of the track being flat. I was getting cramped from sitting and stretched my legs and twisted my back as best I could. Didn’t do much help. My eyes were starting to get irritated from the constant wind in them. Worst of all it was starting to get chilly. I only had on a light jacket, a windbreaker, just something to keep the breeze off me, no real insulation. I was cold, my joints were stiff, I was hungry and thirsty. My eyes watered and my throat was so dry it was sore.
But none of that was as bad as just how little sense this all made. There’s nothing like this place anywhere near the Smoky Mountains. This was like some volcanic rock landscape. The more I thought about it the less sense it made.
The ride kept going.
My mind didn’t even try to process this. Whatever I was experiencing simply couldn’t be possible. I was crazy. I was dreaming. The CIA had kidnapped me and dosed me with some new version of LSD and I was in a straightjacket in a padded room at Area 51.
The sled kept zooming along as the sky turned to dusk. Soon the bridge disappeared from my view and I continued on along the endless, rocky, featureless landscape.
I sat back against the sled, mentally and physically numb. I was exhausted. I was thirsty. I was cramping up. I was hungry. I had to pee. I held it for as long as I could, then had no choice but just wet myself. I cried until I had no more tears left. Then I just sat there.
The ride kept going.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon my throat felt like sandpaper. I dug around in my jacket pockets hoping to find a stick of gum or piece of candy. Nothing. I checked again, having nothing else to do. Under a crumpled store receipt in the inner pocket of my jacket was a single old, forgotten cough drop. I unwrapped it from the paper and popped it in my mouth. Saliva flooded back into my mouth and I was overwhelmed by the methanol and medicine taste. It was something at least, although I knew it would be a brief and temporary fix at best.
I felt my eyes get heavy. It was getting colder. That mountain cold. That deep cold the mountains have even into the early spring when the sun goes down. That kind that just pulls the heat right out of you. I shivered. A terrible, horrible certainty came to me. I would ride until I passed out from exhaustion or the hypothermia set in. My body would tumble off the sled to fall and skip across the rocky ground like a stone skipping across a lake, my bones breaking as I tumbled until my body finally came to a stop. If I was lucky I would be killed and not have to lie for days, broken and bruised, on the ground until death took me.
The ride kept going. The ride kept going. The fucking ride kept going.
“Fuck you” I said to the ride, my voice a horse whisper. I pulled my jacket closer around me, for all the good it did. The cold wind was slowly but surely pulling my body heat away. My shivering got worse, crossing the line from a simple normal shiver into those deep, almost violent full body ones.. I wasn’t anything you could call an experienced outdoorsman, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.
It was getting dark. There was a full moon at least so I wasn’t totally in the dark.
About then I noticed something. The landscape, what little I could see in the fading light, was changing. It was smoothing out, becoming less rocky and craggy. Up ahead an odd, shimmering light was starting to appear on the ground.
I was over it before I even realized what it was. The tracks were going over a smooth surface.
Water. It was a lake. The odd lights I had seen were the moon, reflected in ripples on the lake.
Within minutes I was out of the view of the land. After the nearly endless rocky landscape and everything else I had seen, it scared me how little I was shocked. I didn’t like how mentally numb I was getting. I leaned over. There was enough moonlight to see the water, 15 or 20 feet below the track. The pylons holding up the track went into the water, the light wasn’t good enough to even make a guess at how far they went down or how deep the water was.I leaned back in the sled. My eyes were red and bloodshot from the constant wind. I closed them. This was a mistake.I jerked awake. I don’t know if I dozed off for a split second or an hour. My weight had shifted and I caught myself as my center of gravity was in danger of sending me off the sled and into the water.
I screamed in anger. A deep primal scream. I hurt so bad. My joints felt like they were full of glass. My limbs were full of pins and needles. I glanced over at the water. For the first time on the very edges of my brain a tiny voice started to speak up, telling me that I could be all over if I just jumped. I shut the voice up, but it scared me still.
I sat there as the ride went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the lake ended in a rocky shore line. The damned ride. There was no safe place to bail out. If the ride slowed down, it was high in the air, if it moved toward the ground it sped up. Sharp rocks, big trees, nothing you could safely bail out into.
I kept having to force myself awake. I kept dozing off. Once I felt myself falling asleep and drove a vicious uppercut into my own nose to stave it off.
I seriously started to think about how much longer I could hang on. The voice came back again. This time I didn’t shut it up. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I was starting to think about the best way to land that would end it quickly if I needed to.
Something was ahead. The track seemed to dip into the ground. I was too tired, too beaten to even get scared. I was just resigned to whatever happened at this point.
With little warning the track took my sled into a tunnel in the ground. Everything went completely pitch black. After several moments even the dim moonlight was gone.
This was the worst part. The creepy forest, the immense rocky landscape, the eerie lake… those were bad. But this was just nothing. Nothing to look at, nothing to hear, nothing for reference or sense of where I was going. The walls of the tunnel felt like they were inches from me in every direction. The air felt thick, like there wasn’t enough oxygen.
With every moment I was in that tunnel I lost a little more hope. After a long, long time I made a decision. When I got out of this tunnel, I would jump. I didn’t care anymore. Hopefully there would be a spot where I could be certain the fall would instantly kill me. I was done. The ride had beaten me. I sat there, waiting for a chance to end this on my terms. That was all I had left.
Eventually up ahead, a tiny speck of light appeared. I gathered my strength, ready to end it. I sat up, getting my legs under me so I could jump as soon as we were clear. The sled burst out of the tunnel. The dim light of the full moon was enough to be momentarily blinding after the pitch black of the tunnel.. I gave my eyes a moment to adjust.
I was back in a normal looking Appalachian forest. Rolling hills, green trees. The air smelled of pine again. I heard an owl hoot off somewhere.
Slowly I lowered myself back into a setting position, in shock. At first I refused to believe it but the ride was slowing down. I held still, making sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no, the cheap plastic sled that had been my world for what felt like an eternity was slowing down.
Up ahead, a structure was visible, peeking out from among the trees in the dim lighting as the sled moved down the track.
It was the Alpine Slide building. The crappy fake red barn where I had boarded this cursed ride so long ago. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, sure it was either my mind or the cursed ride playing tricks with me. But the building stayed there.
It grew closer and closer. The track leveled completely out. The sled slowed down more. Before I had the time to really come to terms with it I arrived back at the building.
The sled slowed to a stop, gently pumping against another sled parked on the track. I sat there for a few moments, gasping in great big gulping fear breaths, trying to assure myself the ride didn’t have one last trick of its sleeve.
I looked around. The place was empty, deserted. The overhead lights were still on and the old Pepsi machine still glowed and buzzed, but the ticket booth was dark and empty, a metal gate pulled down over the ticket window.
Suddenly it hit me that I was free and I practically leapt out of the sled and onto the platform. I immediately collapsed. My legs were jelly and my head was spinning. I tried to stand up again and doubled over, dry heaving. Have you ever been out on a boat for a day and have that weird reverse motion sickness when you’re back on solid land? It was like that times a hundred. My inner ear was literally pounding, all the motion had really done a number on it.
I laid there for a few moments and eventually forced myself to stand up on my two wobbling legs. I looked around, a horrible certainty creeping into my mind that there would be no exit, no way off the platform but to my relief an exit turnstyle, one of those full height ones, was set into the fence that surrounded the ride property.
I went through it and found myself back on the main road. The truckstop was still there, still open but far less busy. My car sat in the same corner of the parking lot I had left it.
I allowed myself one look back, just one quick one. The metal skeleton of the Alpine Slide track sat there, dark and quiet but otherwise normal.
I stumbled-ran back to my car, dug the keys out of my pocket, and collapsed inside. When the door shut I let out a primal scream, the tons of fear and confusion and anger all fusing into a single, raw emotion. I screamed again and again.
After a few moments I felt like I was emotionally at least back to a place where I could act, although I wasn’t sure yet what to do next. Not really knowing what to do I cranked the car. The A/C had been on low when I shut off the car and it came roaring back to life and cold air blowing on me almost sent me back into a full on panic attack. I fumbled with the climate controls until the air stopped blowing directly on me, then calmed down enough to turn the heat on, helping to get the chill out of my bones. There was a half full bottle of water in the center console cup holder and I grabbed it and chugged it. Nothing ever tasted as good before or sense as that few ounces of water.
That was when I noticed the clock on the radio head unit. It was 4:17 in the morning. It had been about one, one thirty or so in the afternoon when I got on the accursed ride.
Over 15 hours. I had been on the goddamn ride for over 15 hours. Over half a day.
I just sat there. Warming up. Calming down. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I can’t even describe how my head felt. I probably had at least a minor case of hypothermia. I thought about going into the gas station and asking for help but what would I even say, and more than anything I just wanted to get away from this place. And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to be nowhere near that damn ride.
I put the Camaro in gear and pulled into the street and in panic I immediately slammed on the brakes. I was lucky there was no traffic on the road at that moment. The feeling of accelerating to just normal surface street speeds made me sick to my stomach. I gathered myself and very slowly accelerated the car I usually treated with a very heavy foot up to 30 miles an hour. Every time I tried to accelerate at a pace faster than “Old Lady Going to Church, Uphill” I would have a panic attack. I was okay once I was up to speed, but accelerating freaked me out after being on that ride.
I drove about 30 minutes, putting some arbitrary amount of distance between myself and the coaster. Eventually I made it back to where the twisty mountain road met back up with a major road that would eventually meet back up with the highway. After a few more minutes of driving I saw the onramp for the highway. There was one of those big truckstop travel plazas and pulled in, parking right up at the door. I smelled like pee and I can only imagine how I looked, but I didn’t care.
I kept a couple of emergency 20s in the back of my wallet and spent it on the biggest bottle of water the store had, an overpriced bottle of eye drops, and a huge travel mug of coffee. The clerk looked at me as if he was expecting me to either drop dead or rob him the entire time.
Back in my car I downed the coffee. I put a few eye drops in each of my eyes and sat there as the caffeine took effect until I felt like I could make it back to my apartment. The sun was just coming up when I finally pulled out of the truck stop and got on the freeway. I slowly, very slowly, accelerated up to highway speed, put the Camaro in cruise control, and let the miles start to drift away. I turned on the radio, I needed to hear human voices. Every time my mind went back to what had just happened I turned the radio up louder, eventually drowning it out with painful levels of rock music. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Yes looking back I know I was just in denial. I finally made it back to the crappy little apartment I had off campus, a little two story walk up studio. I let myself in and collapsed on the cheap couch. I was asleep before I even had the time to decide whether or not to do anything else. I woke up later that afternoon. I took a shower and ate a meal and didn’t think about the ride. I washed the pee stained filthy clothes I had been wearing and didn’t think about the ride. I went back to class and didn’t think about the ride. Every time I thought about the ride I forced it out of my head. I’m sure this wasn’t the most mentally healthy thing to do but what can you say?
I didn’t forget about it, don’t be silly. This isn’t the kind of thing you forget. One day while looking up something else in the university’s library my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the Alpine Slide. No website but a few Google Map and Yelp mentions. None of them mentioned anything weird, certainly nothing even remotely like what I experienced. Near as I can tell it closed sometimes in the winter of 2012.
Life went on. I mean, that’s what it does. The next day was a little better. And the day after that a little better. And the day after that a little better still. I met a nice girl. Graduated. Got married. Got a nice house in the suburbs. Got a dog. Had a daughter. Spent a lot of time happy and not thinking about being trapped on an endless alpine coaster.And that was my life for many, many years after that.
Until a few weeks back when as a very different person I found myself driving a boring and safe mid sized family SUV through those same mountains. My wife Carol, 5 months pregnant, sat in the passenger seat, our 6 year old daughter Emily in a booster seat in the back, and Max our mixed breed mutt next to her. It had been a nice pleasant trip, driving back from visiting her folks.
I hadn’t thought about that fucking ride in so long I barely registered that I was in the same general area until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that little mountain tourist trap town was only a few minutes down the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel hard. Carol was looking out the window at the scenery and Emily was deep into some kid’s Youtube video on an iPad. I forced myself to keep my breath steady as we rounded the corner.The town was still there, sorta. Time had not been kind to it. The gas station was still there, at some point it had been bought out by Shell. The tourist trap shops were still there. One of them was now a vape shop. The diner was closed, the building looking like it sat unused for a long time.
But of course that’s not what I cared about. A looked over at the site where the Alpine Coaster once stood. It was gone. The kitschy fake barn was gone. The site was just a bare concrete slab with a chainlink fence around it. Faded “no trespassing” and “for sale” signs hung off the fence. A pile of old, decaying lumber that might have once long ago been part of the structure covered part of the old lot. No sign of the track remained outside of some old concrete support posts dotting the side of the mountain.
I exhaled out a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Soon the little town disappeared in my rear view mirror.
About a half hour later we stopped for gas. I pulled up to a gas pump across from a massive motorhome. Max stuck his head out the window and started barking at a little white dog, a toy breed of some kind, in the window of the motorhome. Carol and Emily immediately headed into the store to restock on snacks while I fueled up.
I stood there, a half smile on my lips as Max barked and wagged his tail in an attempt to attract the attention of the other dog while I filled up the tank, said dog doing an admirable job of ignoring him.
Right about the time I finished fueling up and cleaning the bugs off the windshield Carol returned from inside the store, Emily in tow, arms filled with two full sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips and what looked to be a half dozen individually wrapped pickles.
I raised an eyebrow at the collection of food but knew better than to question a pregnant woman's snack choices.
“Should we take Max for a quick walk?” Carol asked. The travel plaza had a nice little gated dog walking area off to the side.
“Yeah probably not a bad idea, he’s been cooped up in the car for a few hours.” I said. Max, upon hearing his name and the word “walk” , forgot about the other dog and upgraded from wagging his tail to wagging his entire body while making whining sounds and staring right at me.
About this time I became half aware that the big motor home next to us was pulling away. I didn’t think much of it, outside of doing a quick automatic mental check to make sure Emily was well clear of the moving vehicle, but she was safely between me and our SUV, well out of the way.
But that was when Emily looked behind me and cheerfully yelled “Daddy look a roller coaster! Can I ride the coaster?”
It’s cliche as fuck I know but my blood went cold.
I turned around slowly, certain in my knowledge that terrible old decrepit Alpine Coaster would be there, having just popped into existence to trap me again.
That.. is not what I saw. Sure enough there was a coaster there, one I hadn’t noticed earlier because it had mostly been blocked by the motor home, but there it was. It was even an Alpine Coaster.
But it was not the same coaster I had encountered those years ago. That was immediately obvious. It was a small but modern and newish looking setup with neon lights and a bunch of people. There was an actual building where you bought tickets and a little snack stand.
“Daddy! Can we go on the coaster!” Emily asked again.
My mouth made motions but no words came out. I glanced over at Carol, hoping she’d say we didn’t have time but to my horror she smiled and said “You know what? That does sound like fun. Daddy will take you while I take Max for a walk.”
My mind raced, trying to think of a way to get out of it. But Emily was already dragging me across the parking lot to the entrance.
I patted my pocket, making sure my phone was in it. Every fiber of my being was screaming to run away. I slept walked through the line and the ticket booth while Emily bounced happily.
We got into a two seat plastic sled. This one was actually a lot nicer than the one my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. It had two nice cushioned seats, big grab handles, even a nice rollbar.
The sled started up the track. I fought back the panic. I swerved my head around, keeping the building in my view. I was terrified of losing sight of it. We made it to the top and Emily did a happy squeal as we started down the side of the mountain.
My heart raced. Any second, any second my mind told me we’d lose sight of the building and then the ride would never end. The ride sped down the mountain. My mind tortured me with thoughts of not only going through it again, but seeing Emily go through it. The ride went around a big, banking turn. Emily kept shouting happily. How long before Carol reported us missing I wondered? Could I keep Emily calm? What if it lasted even longer this time? What if this time it never ended?
And then we were back at the start of the ride. The same attendant who had helped us into the sled was helping Emily out. I stepped out. The attendant gave me a brief look but said nothing. I guess I looked a little wild eyed.
I was fine. Emily was fine. It had been a perfectly normal, fun ride.
“That was fun Daddy! Thank you!” Emily said. I forced a smile back. “It was fun.” I responded, hoping like I sounded like I meant it.
I took Emily’s hand and we walked back to the car. Max saw us coming and barked happily. Carol looked up from the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she had somehow acquired and added to her snack collection while we were gone and smiled at us.
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
“It was so fun Mommy!” Emily said.
Carol smiled down at her, but then looked at me and frowned. “Are you okay?” Carol could read my face a lot better than the attendant could. “You’re pale.”
I smiled and this time the smile felt real. “Ya know what. Yeah, I think I am okay.”
Carol looked a little puzzled, but didn’t press it. We loaded Emily back in her booster seat, stopped Max from trying desperately to eat half a discarded gas station hot dog off the ground and got him back in the car. Carol and her small collection of snack food took her place in the passenger seat and I got in the driver's seat.I smiled. I cranked the car. I put it in gear. I pulled out of the gas station and back on the road, this time accelerating just a little faster than I had in years.

Pre-freeze the market dough for about 2 years. It's important that your base is well frozen.
Prepare the batter: mix together for 6 months 7 cups of house-flour, 2 Tablespoons of buyer in love with the house-flour, 2 cups of realtors (unsalted) and 1 leaf of slimy jelly seller.
Pour the batter onto the frozen dough. Leave 10k aside. You will be tempted to add those 10k but no no, you can't.
Let set for 2 weeks going back and forth to whisk a bit.
Alas, the cake went sour. The jelly was too slimy and could not hide the holes in the pie. The batter was leaking everywhere.
You try to salvage the cake but nothing can be done.
You even beg the oven to raise the dough, and cook nicely even without the 10k batter.
Nothing. It's ruined.
Throw the whole preparation in your fancy zillow trash.
Start over.
Rest your hands for 2 months. Analyse where your recipe went wrong.
In the meantime , store more dough, just in case you miss another cake.
With experience, you're now a Gordon Ramsay of the real estate and you don't eat shit.
You make another cake. This time, you prepare it with a sugary buyer. Way better than the jelly one.
In the oven for a month and voilà! A beautiful cake.
Don't forget the cherry on it! Just lift the trash lid and look at the previous spoiled cake that noone has bought to this day, rotting there for almost a year now.
Sprinkle your new cake with Schadenfreude. (Just a touch! Too much and it would ruin the taste of joy)
Smile to the spoiled cake and thank it for its teachable moment.
You can't believe you ever wanted to eat that.
Close the lid forever so that the stink of its memory never reaches you.
Enjoy your new cake, every bit of it.
You've earned it.
And now, off to a diet for the next 20 years!
New fellow baker apprentice: Hang in there! Anyone can cook! You'll have your cake and will eat it too!

Today, I lost our Alfie after 11 years with us.
Alfie was a rescue that we met 11 years ago, to this day. A small, chihuahua mix – he was often timid with others and people, but for some reason, grew very interested in us at the dog park day. We were there to actually review adopting another dog, but that dog took no interest. Instead, Alfie (then named Rugger) followed us around the dog park as my partner (now husband) and I walked around the dog park. We would look back, and there he was – checking us out and shyly walking the other direction each time we caught him. Our heart became set on him, and as he sat in the back while other more aggressive dogs with their love came forward, we were set on him and pushed our way through the crowd to get back to him.
Right away, we could tell that he was possibly abused as a stray from San Bernardino. He was cautious and hated us picking him up – his body would fall flat to the floor. Regardless, he still worked through his timidness and crawled into bed and went under the sheets on our first night and slept with this. He always felt shy and timid with strangers, never scared just not too sure, but he blossomed and showcased his love, fun and energy with us. We always got to see him for all he is and could be. I could tell that he trusted us – and I know that sounds cliché since I’m sure every pet parent feels this way, but it seems like he knew we would always have his back. He never left our side and would come with us to family gatherings just as if a child would. He was our baby and he knew it.
Last year, kidney disease popped up on our radar at stage 2 – it was a shock, but after 10 years and an unknown true age (rescue estimated 3, vet estimated 4-5), we knew that we were getting into this old age problems. Suddenly, his teeth got bad – and we were hesitant to do anesthesia. But they got worse and worse as in the case of most Chihuahua’s, and we did some blood work to see if he was stable before scheduling an appointment. Then we were told it was stage 3.
He was so uncomfortable with his mouth, we knew we had to do something – but then we started considering his medications, his back injections, his anemia, his lethargy, his qualify of life… We made a decision, then it was back and forth on some good days, til it wasn’t. We made the decision to put him down yesterday, and this AM the vet came over and put him down in the living room with him in my arms.
I am absolutely heartbroken and I cannot stop crying. I’m physically feeling pain in all parts of my body. My head hurts, my nose hurts, my eyes hurt, my throat hurts, my chest hurts… everything is just hurting from nonstop convulsing crying. The vet said he was passing already from the sounds of it and her visual examination, and not even a half dose of his sedative caused him to start going and an irregular heart beat (he pulled away yelping from the injection). But I can’t shake that I chose this and chose his death. I can’t get rid of this guilt and this horrible feeling. And then I remember everything, then I focus on missing him, then its guilt, and now its me being pissed that I didn’t get more time with him and that this feels so unfair and how dare God take him from me with conditions that led us to this point.
I don’t know what to do. I am just repeating everything in my head nonstop. I keep expecting him laying right next to me and to feel his warmth, or him asking for help onto the bed or couch. I can’t stand to look at all the things that gave him joy (being a Chihuahua from CA in Washington State, mostly blankets and space heaters). Everything is causing me grief and pain. I feel like this is excessive but I cannot stop – it’s been 7 hours but I don’t know. This feels like too much and I don’t know if I’m strong enough.
I don’t even know what I’m looking for, it just seemed like someone could take this mess and tell me something. Anything. I just miss my boy and the only thing that would make me feel better is having him back. This is just too hard. I know he may have been up to 16 years old, but this still just kills me.

I'm a 42 year old male, I met my wife when I was 18, she was 23 and we began 'dating' when I was 21, working a job I hated in the same place she worked (casino workers, if you know, you know). We hooked up at a Xmas party and started a very awkward relationship. I say awkward because we had some weird trouble having sex for the first like 6 months... it's odd when I think back on it, should have been a huge red flag but she was draped in reg flags the entire time and it didn't seem matter to me. Aside from that, when we finally did have sex she got pregnant... she was not at all ready, neither was I really, but are you ever? At any rate, I didn't have too much of say in it, she decided on an abortion and I supported her. We stayed together after that horribly shitty experience, our relationship was never really all that good, lots of petty fighting/arguing and really the only reason it continued was because we worked opposite shifts and barely saw each other which made it easier to sorta get along.
Fast forward a couple years, we decide to buy a house because financially it made sense (this is almost 20 years ago so it was still affordable at that time), she made quite a bit of money, mostly in tips (so not on paper), but she probably made 2-3 times as much as I did so she never really struggled financially (in her life I don't think) while I came out of poverty and lived paycheck to paycheck up until a few years ago (the pandemic was surprisingly good for my career). This was never really an issue for me, I've lived in debt my whole life and I've always had the optimism that I would eventually work my way out of it, it's really the only bit of confidence I have in myself, my ability to learn and become relatively good at almost anything. This was always a point of contention, my wife hated that I had debt so when we bought the house together we were asked if we wanted a joint bank account as most couples combine their finances with cohabitation, my wife scoffed and adamantly told the banker there was no way she's mixing her finances with mine, it was relatively embarrassing at the time but I was also just 25 (she was 30) so I went along with whatever, it was going to be slightly cheaper for me to pay a mortgage than rent at the time so I was in and she'd cover bills. Things were never that great when living together, things must have been good enough for me to stay but I only look back with anger now so it's hard to see anything good but I'm sure there must have been some.
Fast forward another couple years and I feel extremely pressured (by her and her family mostly, they're old fashioned country type folks) to ask her to marry me... so I do. We stay engaged for another few years, I have no desire to waste a bunch on money on a wedding but she's the one with money so we have the big wedding she wanted. I'll admit it was a pretty great party, I don't remember anything good involving her on our wedding day but I have lots of good memories with family and friends. Afterwards we went on a 'romantic' honeymoon at an all-inclusive tropical resort and this is where I'll get into a bit of what I've dealt with for years... our resort was gorgeous, room was nice, just a room but nice... first thing my wife did was complain, about everything, the bed, the fridge, the lights, the balcony... nothing was good enough for her, this would become a common theme for the next decade plus. We also did not have sex on our honeymoon, she was far too busy complaining and being angry for us to ever get in the 'mood', this would be more foreshadowing of what's to come.
Now, this might seem like I'm building up to her becoming really bad after getting married but that's not really the case... she was just as bad before, it didn't really get worse, it just became more noticeable... or maybe I just tolerated things more in the beginning. The truth is when I look back, there were so many signs, she casually put me down and basically treated me like a child from day one, something I just accepted because looking back, I was a fucking child when we got together... she was not really, five years my senior, and she very much took advantage of that dynamic. Over the years she slowly went about convincing me that the things I wanted were silly/ridiculous and that I should want what she wanted (the nice lawn, the house, kids, etc., etc.) because everyone should. I never wanted these things.
I won't get into details here because I could write a novel on the insane shit I've dealt with over the last 20 years that could prove this, but I did do a lot of research in the last few years and have come to the conclusion that she could have BPD with narcissistic traits... I'm obviously not a doctor so it's definitely not a diagnosis or anything but she ticks almost every box from the many many things I've read on the subject, so if you have a moment and you don't know what BPD is I suggest googling it. It's pretty terrible but it might give you a better idea of my life.
At any rate, I dug myself deeper and deeper, thinking that every next move would finally make her happy and bring me some kind of peace, so we had a child about a year after we were married. This is where it gets really tricky... I sincerely regret having a child with this woman, especially because she is not at all "cut out to be a mother" (her words, not mine) but her mother had been sick on and off with cancer for a few years and her older sister couldn't have children so she felt obligated to give her mom a grandchild, bad reasons all around to have a child. That being said, I love my son more than anything in the world. As much as I wish we did not bring him into this horrible world, he's still the very best thing to happen to me and I will take care of him and love him for the rest of my life no matter what.
I should mention, since I've eluded to it, I've always had self-esteem issues, goes all the way back to having acne problems in high school but my wife has methodically picked away at my confidence and self-esteem over the years, cutting me down to this very day... to the point that I feel very much worthless. I know that I'm not, I know I deserve better but another fun thing about my wife is her desperate need for sympathy... So, not only does she make me feel horrible about myself, she also manages to make me feel horrible FOR her... she's overweight, and I'm sure has low self-esteem herself but she has decided to take it out on others rather than internalize and try to make things better for herself. She would rather blame others for any of her short comings, I guess it's easier to convince yourself you can't do anything about it when it's someone else fault.
I apologize, because I feel like I'm a bit all over the place but I guess I'm just trying to set the scene for where I'm at now and give just a small glimpse of the hell I've been living in and how I got here...
The first few years of my sons life were pretty great (comparatively at least), honestly it was probably the best we've ever gotten along, probably because most of my focus (and hers) was on our son. Unfortunately, her mother passed away just after my son's first birthday, this was obviously devastating for her, not unexpected but still devastating. We're lucky in Canada because she had a full year maternity leave and was able to spend time with her mom. She took it very hard, and decided to stay off work for an additional 4-6 months (can't remember exactly). This was all fine and understandable, I supported her through all of it, financially and emotionally. Once she went back to work, this is when things took a real nose dive... she has always been a very entitled person but upon going back to work (part time I should mention) she decided everything was horrible for her so she was going to make it horrible for everyone around her. This went on for around 4-5 years (again, the time frames get fuzzy because it's been so long), it was hell. I really just plowed through for our son, I made him my main focus and I took care of everything. Without going into it too much, I sort of shifted gears with my job and focused on finding something that worked better for raising a kid, I got onto a full time day shift (unheard in the casino world) and we worked opposite shifts. It was pretty good for child care (that we couldn't afford) as one of us was always home. This made her more contentious... again, going back to the entitled thing, she felt it wasn't 'fair' for me to work a good shift, she should be the one doing that. I eventually worked my way out of casinos and into a work from home job (before COVID) and it was great, she could work whatever shift she had to and I would always be around for our son.
Fast forward again, my son's in school, she's still super angry at life and making things hellish but I do my best to make it good for our son. It's difficult to keep a smile on with him while putting up with temper tantrums and fits from my wife... yes, we had a toddler and she was the one who threw fits. For an example, I can recall one specific Xmas where my son and I were playing video games which is his biggest interest, something she absolutely hates, and she made a few comments about how we should be doing family things together for Xmas (it was Xmas eve), so my son and I got off the computer and played a board game in the living room... nice and wholesome fun I thought. My wife throws a fit, full on screaming and slamming things around, I don't even remember what for exactly, it happens so often I can't keep track anymore. Her temper tantrum ends with her storming off and slamming the door to her room. I'll never forget looking at my son right after, him tearing up a bit and asking me "what is wrong mom?" and I just said "I'm really sorry buddy, I don't know" and we hugged... I cried a lot about that that night, one of many times I would have to apologize for her and the way she acts around him. This is just one small example and a terrible Xmas memory that I'll always have, hopefully my son won't. I think the worst part of these 'tantrums' is that she can almost always justify them, only to herself really but usually by blaming me or my son for "making her so upset" or worse, blaming some inanimate object for "not working how it should".
Fast forward to now(ish)... I've basically lived in my basement for the last 5 years, my office and bedroom are there, I stay down there to avoid my wife as much as possible but it feels like a prison cell now. I've retreated from life in general over the years too, I've always been a pretty anti-social introvert, I prefer quiet one on one conversations rather than group settings. Most of my 'friends' over the last 10-15 years revolved around my job (casinos take over your life people, for real) and my wife, I slowly lost any friends that had no connection to her. This was partially due to me retreating and the fact that my wife would insert herself into any friendship that was just mine to the point that I sort shut those people out to avoid them having to deal with her. Sadly, I don't have friends anymore (didn't have many to begin with but still), my son is essentially my only friend and because I work from home by myself I rarely talk to any other adults. My wife and I talk only when necessary... I cannot make eye contact with her anymore. This is probably needless to say but we haven't had sex in over 6 and a half years and I don't cheat, I don't have the confidence, so I've just accepted that I'm celibate now.
One other area of contention that I feel I should explain since I've mentioned it already, through the pandemic there was a serious power shift, financially speaking. She essentially lost her job and is now in a lower paying part time job (more realistic pay compared to her previous job), whereas I made a couple job changes that bumped me up well ahead of her. For comparison, the salaries essentially flipped, almost exactly... to where I make 2-3 times what she makes. This has become an area of contention because this was something she was able to lord over me for the majority of our relationship, she spent money freely while I paid the mortgage and barely ate for the first 5 years we lived in the house but now, for the first time in her life she has to pay attention to her finances and watch her spending... she does not like this so it's just another thing to constantly complain about and make passive aggressive comments about the things that 'dad' can afford to do/buy but doesn't (mainly because I'm paying the mortgage and all the bills now while finally paying down some debt).
Oh, I should probably also mention that it's a regular thing for her to insult me and put me down in front of our son and on flip side of that she also uses him to garner sympathy from me ("shouldn't daddy feel bad mommy has to go to work?") it's very frustrating because I just want to protect my kid but I guess she knows that.
Again, I'll apologize for how disjointed this all is... the more I type, the more I think about shit to type... like I mentioned, I could write a novel on this, mostly because I have no real outlet, just sit in my basement talking to myself about it all... or I guess stewing in it.
So, I guess I should try to finish off with what exactly the advice is that I'm seeking... I essentially hate my wife, the word I use often is 'despise' and over the years we've had brief conversations where I've told her that "I'm done and I'm just here for the kid" and unfortunately she took this as push to work on our marriage harder and 'fix' things, far too little, too late. She makes me feel like the worse person in the world and yet I just can't bring myself to say to her face that I want a divorce... I feel sorry for her, fuck so much so that I bought a house with her, married her, and had a fucking kid with her... I'm sure that's not the case, I must have loved her at one point but I just can't see it anymore. I don't know why I can't say it to her, why I can't just end this... I'm so worried about how she'll react, what she'll do to me, to my kid... how she'll try and turn him against me. I'm just paralyzed with the fear of what could/will happen if I tell her we're getting a divorce.
I've made plans over the last few years to move out, rent an apartment for me and my kid and just continue to pay her bills until we can sell the house and split the profit. I can't afford to do this, it would cause me to go back into debt but I do not care, it would be worth it to get away from her. I have set deadline after deadline... "I'll do it after Xmas" or "after her birthday" or "before my birthday" and these days come and go and I just can't do it... I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, it's like I just don't want to hurt her, even though I'm hurting her by not ending things and she definitely doesn't give a shit about hurting me... I just don't want to face her and deal with it and how she will make the aftermath hell.. and I worry so much about my son, it would have been so much better for him if I would have divorced her years ago, he's fucking 10 now... another fear is having to explain it to him but we're setting a horrible example. One of my wife's favourite ways to use our son against me, is planting it in his head that "family is all that matters", focusing specifically on our little family, and how we have to "stick together no matter what, that's what family does". It's such an underhanded way to prep him for hating me because I'm "breaking up our family".
I would appreciate any advice on how the hell I can get over my paralyzing fear and just end this marriage or maybe you wanna come over and end it for me? I'm at a point where I'd take that... as I mentioned I've not shared most of this with anyone... so feedback would be a really new thing for me.
Oh, and please feel free to call me chicken shit, and tell me I just need to grow a pair and get this done... it's the same thing I've been saying to myself for years, not helpful but I understand the sentiment.
Shit... I'm sorry, this turned into a novel. Thank you.

I’ve been accepted to CHSU for this upcoming year. I know that CHSU is fairly new and just had their first graduating class. It seemed like they matched well for their first class; however, I’ve been seeing some mixed reviews on the program. They have mandatory 8am-5pm classes that are TBL style.
I’m still waitlisted to Western COMP which is closer to home. This would be my first choice. CHSU is roughly 4 hours from home while Western is only 30min. Do I drop from CHSU and start reapplying in case I don’t get off the waitlist or is it stupid to pass on any chance of medical school?
For background info: I am a 27M who is also an RN currently.

I remember watching LoTR when it came out. I loved it but I also couldnt help but think it would have been interesting to see some none-fantasy stuff in there along with everything else
Like wars between different kingdoms of men / kings rather than it being purely 'good vs evil' and magic / supernatural etc. An interesting mix of the two.
Then when I watched GoT I was thinking this would be the case. I liked how it combined normal humans wanting to conquer everything but also there was this threat from the whitewalkers and dragons.
But GoT, as much as I enjoyed it, didnt have much fantasy in the grand scheme of things IMO. And the vast majority of the fantasy stuff felt like it was just crammed in at the end, and really rushed.
So I feel like Im still waiting for some other show to come along that gets that perfect balance that Ive been looking for.
I'm sure I'll get crucified for my suggestion but Im curious if anyone else feels the same way

This is my first food service job in the US, so I’m unsure what to wear really and where to get it. I have some random solid colored t-shirts and pants, but I think I only have three days worth of outfits unless I wash midweek and mix-and-match. And I’m also concerned about my one nice pair of solid blue pants getting worn by wearing so much at work. I have a few skirts/dresses, but my manager said it’s best to wear leggings underneath them “just in case” so I’m thinking that may be too hot in the summer months. Also it seems like my coworkers have Panera t-shirts, so maybe I’ll get those when I’m done with training or just randomly? Any help would be much appreciated.

“I attended middle school with her, although we did not attend high school together (she instead attended a high school that was supposed to help students gain college credits. She earned two liberal arts degrees while there in Social and Behavioral Sciences and Natural Sciences. She now attends an HCBU, and has on her LinkedIn profile that she is presently working toward graduating from her college with a degree in Health Sciences, Pre Med, and a minor in Military Science. She is apart of her school’s Army ROTC.)
I remember that a lot of people in middle school did not like her (although that was also the case for me,) and I understood why. She seemed noticeably introverted, yet also didn’t seem like the kind of person, at least from my perspective, who would try to appease you in the way I imagine a lot of people feel the stereotypical woman might. She had a strong glare (I remember mentioning this to my then best friend’s mom, who agreed with the suggestion) and stood out to me as being weird (it wasn’t necessarily anything she said or did - not her personality, exactly - it’s just the strong glare I mentioned, like she didn’t tend to look sincerely happy nor would she pretend to be unless she was around friends of hers. I remember that she didn’t tend to look happy, in my opinion. It’s possible that she was depressed, or she may have just tended to look irritable, I don’t know. She didn’t strike me as being the kind of person who would make an effort to be polite, struck me as being tomboyish and unladylike, the kind of person who wouldn’t try to change the way she was for you - I wasn’t used to it. Seemed competitive, too. I had truly never interacted with a girl who was like that before. She also struck me as being smart, although she was in the normal math class whereas I was in the advanced one (I was known for being smarter, but thought it should have been her. However, I did notice after looking at her LinkedIn profile that there were more grammatical errors than I expected.)
I remember that she and her friend (who I later on ended up being on good terms with) decided early on that they disliked me, although I hadn’t done anything to them, which bothered me. They also once used me for food in sixth grade, which had also bothered/upset me.
I remember that my former best friend had issues with her ranging back to elementary school, and that in sixth grade in particular they were competing for the attention of an ISFP they’d both been friends with since elementary school. This girl is the one who won the ISFP’s attention/was officially her best friend by the time they were in seventh grade. However, around seventh or eighth grade (it’s been so long that I no longer quite remember,) she “ditched” (in the words of my former best friend) the ISFP and the other friend I’d mentioned in favor of a new crowd. I actually remember my former best friend suggested that the people in her new crowd didn’t like her, either (although she hung out with them throughout eighth grade, and briefly went to high school in person with one of them as a junior whilst presumably taking courses at the other high school online, so I assume that she never knew this/didn’t read them well enough to know or understand this.) I notice that she unfollowed the ISFP at some point as a senior, though the ISFP never unfollowed her (she strikes me as being the kind of person who likely took note of the fact that the ISFP’s life doesn’t seem to be heading in a good direction - the ISFP was abused a few years ago, and has had substance use issues since, in addition to having had to repeat a year of high school. She also unfollowed my former best friend, and my former best friend recently unfollowed her back.)
She figured out that I was the one who owned the middle school gossip account (although most of our peers already suspected, and technically, this girl couldn’t prove it either.) She figured this out because she remembered that I was standing nearby when she told my former best friend who she had a crush on (I was being mean and told our peers who she was crushing on.) However, she never directly confronted me about the matter, even though she told my former best friend that she suspected it to be me. She later on changed her mind when I was kind to her friend who lost the role for graduation speaker to me toward the end of eighth grade (but she was right the first time.)
I noticed around junior year that she has actually turned out to be quite nice looking, even though I had once meanly suggested that she was fat in middle school (she was a tad bit chubby, though as an adult I’m inclined to suggest that this was likely simply baby fat/that with us being so young there wasn’t really anything wrong with this.) She does seem to wear makeup, but also has nice style (she is light skinned, and has a looser hair texture, which are likely factors in me thinking she’s attractive, if I’m being honest - she’s mixed race, with a black mother and white father.) I can’t possibly know, but she gives off the impression to me of being someone who knows that she’s attractive (just something about her energy/facial expressions in photos. She has her Instagram account public now.)”
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Title: Beatport Weekend Picks 20 (2024) Genre: House, Techno (Peak Time / Driving), Breaks / Breakbeat / UK Bass, Tech House, Deep House, Psy-Trance, Minimal / Deep Tech, Progressive House, Dubstep, Indie Dance, Trap / Wave, Nu Disco / Disco, Funky House, Bass / Club, UK Garage / Bassline, Afro House, Melodic House & Techno, Bass House, Techno (Raw / Deep / Hypnotic), Organic House / Downtempo, Electro (Classic / Detroit / Modern), 140 / Deep Dubstep / Grime, Mainstage, Jackin House, Amapiano, Trance (Raw / Deep / Hypnotic), Drum & Bass, Hard Techno, Electronica Release Date: 2024-05-14
DOWNLOAD in 320kbps: https://sharing-db.club/djs-chart/482320_beatport-weekend-picks-20-2024/
Tracklist: 1. GMJ, Jiminy Hop – Caladan (Original Mix) (7:30) 2. Latmun – Play The Music (Original Mix) (6:21) 3. Arude – Who You Are (Original Mix) (5:42) 4. Magenta & Skore – Dubplate (Original Mix) (4:29) 5. Pvlomo – Infraworld (Original Mix) (5:10) 6. Frank Storm, Francis De Simone – Quarterback (Original Mix) (6:25) 7. Oscar Mulero – The Sweat And The Salt (Original Mix) (5:05) 8. Atlas – Particles (Original Mix) (9:01) 9. Radio Slave – Strobe Queen (Extended) (12:01) 10. Patrik Berg – Nothing But Love (Original Mix) (6:53) 11. Traumer – Nectar (Original Mix) (6:51) 12. PACH. – Body Control (Original Mix) (5:58) 13. Mathys Lenne – H23 (Original Mix) (5:13) 14. Kasey Taylor, Jamie Stevens – Ochre (Original Mix) (8:08) 15. Miishu, Nyadollar & Nyamal Nyang – Cheza (Original Mix) (5:16) 16. Lance Desardi, Jesse Rennix – Higher (feat. Jesse Rennix) (Extended Mix) (6:37) 17. Mendo – I Like That (Original Mix) (5:46) 18. Tuccillo – Frames (Original Mix) (7:23) 19. Whitesquare – Ephemeral Eyes (Original Mix) (6:54) 20. Lionayve – Mmetho (Original Mix) (6:33) 21. UNKLE, &ME, Keinemusik – Only You (&ME Remix) (8:34) 22. Space Motion – Ludo (Original Mix) (5:34) 23. AC Soul Symphony, Dave Lee – I Want To See You Dance (Art Of Tones Remix) (6:05) 24. Braille – Suntime (Original Mix) (3:08) 25. Zamna Soundsystem, ROZYO, Armonica – Summertime Sadness feat. Blu (Original Mix) (5:31) 26. MoRsei – From Earth (Original Mix) (8:09) 27. Ariel Zetina – Slab of Meat (L-Vis 1990 Remix) (4:27) 28. ENVY, Monty – INLOVE (Original Mix) (4:34) 29. Anonimat, Soulmac, Sensitive (It) – Brainwash (Original Mix) (7:21) 30. Visage Music, Ragie Ban – Time After Time (Extended Mix) (5:29) 31. BRASSIC – Antagonist (Original Mix) (2:45) 32. Claudio PRC – Zenith (Original Mix) (7:47) 33. Adonis – Few Times (Original mix) (6:49) 34. Fulltone – Alba (Original Mix) (8:57) 35. Bruno (HU) – I Am Here (Original Mix) (6:09) 36. Hector Couto – Flufly’s House (Original Mix) (5:48) 37. Yanamaste – Dance (Original Mix) (5:02) 38. Julian Liander – Sukuru (Extended Mix) (5:28) 39. Javi Bora – Yes To All (Original Mix) (5:53) 40. A*S*Y*S, Avis Vox – Body Mind & Soul (Original Mix) (5:23) 41. Jungle Rootz – Midnight Skunk (Original Mix) (4:39) 42. Dokho – Balao (Extended Mix) (5:26) 43. Wingz – Ghost (Original Mix) (5:07) 44. Apparel Wax – MINI003A (Original Mix) (4:41) 45. Bombossa Brothers – Destino (Extended Mix) (7:10) 46. A08 – Nineoneone (Dengue Dengue Dengue Remix) (4:40) 47. FDH – Spion Kopje (Original Mix) (5:51) 48. Timboletti – Kava (Original Mix) (6:33) 49. Jou Nielsen & Paul Ikky – Mentalism (Extended Mix) (5:31) 50. Mance – Checkpoint (Original Mix) (5:24) 51. Lyktum – Enlightened (Introspect Remix) (8:16) 52. Michel De Hey – Hot Like That (Edit) (3:16) 53. Viikatory – Cartesian Space (Original Mix) (4:55) 54. Chunky Jackson – What You Do To Me (Gass Klubb Remix) (5:12) 55. Castion – Higher Place (Extended Mix) (5:46) 56. Alexny – Shake It (Original Mix) (5:12) 57. Pakard – Forbidden Pleasure (Syep024) (5:07) 58. Loofy – Last Night (Anyma x Layton Giordani Extended Remix) (5:14) 59. Ben Graves – Do It Like That (Original Mix) (7:05) 60. You Man – Birdcage (Theus Mago Version) (4:38) 61. Byron Stingily – Why Can’t You Be Real (Danny’s 12″ Version) (7:25) 62. Mincy – Simulation Conversation (LO’99 Remix) (3:30) 63. Luca Agnelli – Game Over (Extended Mix) (5:39) 64. Blaze – Lovelee Dae (Seth Troxler Extended Remix) (6:48) 65. T.M.A Rsa, B6 Rider, Frozen Deep – Impilo Yam (Original Mix) (7:34) 66. Noon – SNOOZE (Original Mix) (2:48) 67. Olympe4000, DJ Physical – Free access to nothing (Original Mix) (5:15) 68. The Spirit Project, Starving Yet Full – Find Your Way (Monkey Safari Extended Remix) (6:03) 69. Ferra Black – Titan (Original Mix) (5:30) 70. Ximena, Ali X, Pvlomo – Pastillitas (BadWolf Remix) (5:59) 71. Tom Kench, Balsamic Vin – Love Song of Mine (Original Mix) (3:41) 72. Cyclops – Tear Jerker (VIP) (2:25) 73. Isaac Carter, Callum Asa – Capsule (Original Mix) (6:26) 74. Fjaak, Skee Mask – Black Ice (Original Mix) (4:51) 75. Sandro Puddu – Get Right (Original Mix) (4:11) 76. ATMOS, Jakes – Hypnosis (Original Mix) (4:28) 77. Eli Brown – Trick Daddy (Extended Mix) (5:07) 78. Aiden Francis – Sundancer (Original Mix) (6:58) 79. Acerbic – Spitfire (Original Mix) (5:46) 80. Lars Bartkuhn – Everymorning I Meditate (Original Mix) (4:38) 81. Felipe Gordon – My Legs Are Numb (Original Mix) (6:03) 82. Benales – Sorrow (Original Mix) (5:19) 83. Matt Caseli – R.O.A.R (Original Mix) (3:20) 84. Dan-e-mc – Musica House (Eddie Amador Club Mix) (6:50)

Hello guys, i’ve been struggling with H for around 1 month now ( i think i did a lot of progress on this part) and struggling with T for around 22 days now. I did a post before this one to explain how did i get in this situation, i think it would help a lot to understand and possibly help me if you could read it, i would really appreciate it. I never had any kind of problem with my ears before, actually i always had pretty good ears. I don’t think that i have any hearing loss so far or any damages in my ears ( no visible one i guess because i went to the doctor and he said that everything was fine). The first week of my T was the worst ever. It’s was burning in my ears because my H and my T was so loud that i was hearing kind of laser beam going through my head. This situation happened twice and so far never happened again. The first week and almost second week and half, i had a lot of progress everyday and i am hearing a different ton everyday too, each days is different for me, im not experiencing the same thing twice. I think i got this after a acoustic trauma ( i screamed really loud at my neighbor, im explaing more in my other post) and i was extremely anxious and stressed, i think that all of this did a bad mix up and gave me this situation im in. But the part where im lost is that i seems to get a little bit of progress everydays still, some frequency are gone. it’s mostly a IIIIIIIIIIIIII ton that i hear now from the past 5 days i would say, the first 2 days was extremely annoying, to a 8/10 and i would say that now this is around 3/7 because i have a lot of spike that i don’t really understand. When im sad, scared or really anxious, it seems that my T and my are going worst and sometimes i feel that i am so close of being free of my T. As i could feel that he want to go away, but i didn’t do enough progress still to have it gone. When im sittting on my chair, most of the time i hear something that is around 2/3 now with the progress i made because it’s was 7/8 the last 3 days before, but when im laying in my bed. It’s pretty often turn into a 6/7 when im trying to sleep, maybe because im scared of it and i know that this is going to be bad. I think that my T is really much stress related in my nervous system, but this is extremely hard to understand. 2-3 days ago, i took a pill of pro lorazepam, this helps a lot to concentrate myself on the positive and kinda kills the negative thought, i still need to focus on, but this is helping a lot. When i took the pill, my T was 8/10 to 1/10 to almost nothing and i slept the best night of the past month. Also, when i take a shower and im going out, most of the time my T is like almost gone to almost 0. It’s just that i don’t really understand all of this and i want to know if there is still hope for me to recover from my T. Im sure that in my case i can fully recover, i really feel it, but i don’t know if im going to have this opportunity as everything seems really hard to achive. Thank you for reading my post, i really appreciate you guys.
I wanted to post this in the tinnitus sub, but it seems that i don’t have enough karma or something like that.
Im 23.

Trade URL - Steam Profile

• Buyouts valued as items in cash prices.
• Mainly interested in trading but taking offers through third party websites.
• Taking TF2 keys (Mann Co. Supply Crate Key) as well.
• Sending a trade offer is the fastest way to contact me, you can either dm or add me on steam.

🔥Feel free to join my steam trading group InventoryHub - excluding spammers and alt accounts.
//

Type	Name	FV	Info	Tradable	SS	B/O ($)
💔Knife	★ Karambit Case Hardened (BS)	0.83	#463 - red eye pattern	Yes	📷	12345
💔Knife	★ StatTrak™ M9 Bayonet Case Hardened (FT)	0.16	#503 - tier 1 pattern with scar	Yes	📷	5555
💔Knife	★ Karambit Case Hardened (WW)	0.42	#670 - blue ring & blue playside	Yes	📷	4444
💔Knife	★ Bayonet Case Hardened (WW)	0.42	#321 - p4	Yes	📷	2499
💔Knife	★ Talon Knife Crimson Web (FT)	0.29		5/22/2024	📷	446
💔Knife	★ Nomad Knife Case Hardened (BS)	0.98	decent amount of mixed blue	5/22/2024	📷	303
💔Knife	★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic (FT)	0.35		5/26/2024	📷	212
💙Gloves	★ Sport Gloves Slingshot (FT)	0.26		5/23/2024	📷	969
💙Gloves	★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (BS)	0.77	#829 - p1	Yes	📷	938
💙Gloves	★ Driver Gloves King Snake (FT)	0.19		Yes	📷	532
💙Gloves	★ Driver Gloves Snow Leopard (FT)	0.20		5/23/2024	📷	521
💙Gloves	★ Driver Gloves Snow Leopard (FT)	0.20		5/22/2024	📷	521
💙Gloves	★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (FT)	0.22	#89 - tier1 pattern with clean E	Yes	📷	499
💙Gloves	★ Specialist Gloves Field Agent (FT)	0.16		Yes	📷	426
💙Gloves	★ Specialist Gloves Mogul (FT)	0.16		5/26/2024	📷	218
💙Gloves	★ Moto Gloves Smoke Out (FT)	0.19		Yes	📷	198
💙Gloves	★ Driver Gloves Diamondback (FT)	0.31		Yes	📷	127
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AK-47 Slate (FN)	0.00004	x4 vox holo kato15 on super low float ak (1/2)	Yes	📷	3999
💚Rifle	M4A1-S Cyrex (FN)	0.04	ibuypower holo kato14 above mag + x2 crown foil	Yes	📷	3333
💚Rifle	AK-47 Fire Serpent (FT)	0.18	vox holo kato14 on wood + crown foil next position	Yes	📷	3333
💚Rifle	AWP Asiimov (FT)	0.29	titan holo kato14 on the scope	Yes	📷	3125
💚Rifle	AK-47 Black Laminate (FT)	0.35	x4 kato14 (ibuypower holo on wood, titan, lgb holo, reason)	Yes	📷	2599
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ M4A4 In Living Color (FN)	0.042000	x4 dignitas holo col14 (1/1)	Yes	📷	2499
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive (FN)	0.03	dignitas holo col14 on the scope + x3 holo kato14 (vp, dignitas, mystik)	Yes	📷	1666
💚Rifle	AK-47 Case Hardened (FT)	0.37	ibuypower holo kato14 above trigger	Yes	📷	1449
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AK-47 Slate (FN)	0.01	x4 fnatic holo dh14	Yes	📷	749
💚Rifle	AK-47 The Empress (WW)	0.39	x4 gold krakow17 (dosia, pashabiceps, x2 nbk)	Yes	📷	669
💚Rifle	M4A4 Eye of Horus (FN)	0.06		5/19/2024	📷	666
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AK-47 Phantom Disruptor (FN)	0.05	x4 navi holo dh14 (1/1)	Yes	📷	549
💚Rifle	AK-47 Fuel Injector (FN)	0.06	x2 flammable Foil (wood and back)	Yes	📷	549
💚Rifle	AWP Redline (MW)	0.11	titan kato14 on the scope	Yes	📷	369
💚Rifle	AWP Sun in Leo (FN)	0.05	crown foil on the scope	Yes	📷	269
💚Rifle	AK-47 Asiimov (FN)	0.06		5/26/2024	📷	203
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ M4A4 Faded Zebra (BS)	0.78	high float - x4 kato14 (3dmax, vox, ldlc, complexity)	Yes	📷	199
💚Rifle	M4A4 Temukau (FN)	0.06	x4 c9 kato15 (1/1)	Yes	📷	179
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AK-47 Vulcan (BS)	0.46		Yes	📷	164
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AK-47 Red Laminate (WW)	0.38	harp of war holo next to wood	Yes	📷	149
💚Rifle	M4A1-S Hyper Beast (FN)	0.03		5/26/2024	📷	129
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AWP Asiimov (BS)	0.81		Yes	📷	120
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AK-47 The Empress (MW)	0.13		5/26/2024	📷	119
💚Rifle	StatTrak™ AK-47 Legion of Anubis (FN)	0.06		Yes	📷	51,1
💚Rifle	AWP Chrome Cannon (BS)	0.69		5/26/2024	📷	38,88
💚Rifle	M4A1-S Chantico's Fire (FT)	0.26		5/26/2024	📷	28,27
💚Rifle	AWP Worm God (MW)	0.11	x3 kato15 (envyus holo on scope * x2 clg)	Yes	📷	22
💚Rifle	AK-47 Head Shot (FT)	0.32		5/26/2024	📷	12,07
💛Pistol	USP-S Stainless (WW)	0.43	titan holo kato14 above handle & x2 titan holo kato15	Yes	📷	2499
💛Pistol	USP-S Overgrowth (FN)	0.06	crown foil above handle (rare combo)	Yes	📷	279
💛Pistol	P250 Mehndi (FN)	0.04	x4 kato14 (vp, mousesports, fnatic mystik)	Yes	📷	222
💛Pistol	StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Conspiracy (FN)	0.03	x4 liquid mlg16	Yes	📷	36
💛Pistol	Desert Eagle Code Red (FT)	0.31		5/26/2024	📷	20,03
💜SMG	Souvenir UMP-45 Urban DDPAT (FT)	0.35	titan foil kato14	Yes	📷	169
💜SMG	StatTrak™ MP9 Airlock (FN)	0.06		5/26/2024	📷	29,01

Hear me out! Its a fun thought experiment! (sorry for the long post but please give it a look!)
I'll first discuss the Trailblazes similarities with the other Paths, and then get into the nitty gritty of what my theory of the story is.
Beware of minor spoilers for 2.2 this point onwards!
The Hunt is all about justice for those that are unjust, begetting violence with violence, as we've seen with the Xianzhou and recently with the Galaxy Rangers.
The Trailblaze, doesn't stand for injustice when they see it, and will always help those seeking aid even if it means getting mixed up into political extremes, or beyond arctic temperatures. And the Express has no qualms with using violence to do just that, if all else fails.
___
The Harmony is all about, well, harmony with others, peace and happiness with all people. The strong helping the weak and all coming together as one, Harmonious Choir.
The Trailblaze, seeks to connect to all cultures, and interact peacefully, and with kindness, and always help those struggling.
___
The Finality is all about how everything will come to an end, no matter what or where.
The Trailblaze, is a journey across the whole universe, with an abundance of passengers getting on and getting off when their Trailblaze comes to an end. Even, eventually, the Astral Express itself will end on its final stop some day.
___
The Erudition is all about intelligence, the discovery of new knowledge, and the innate truth that everything has an answer.
The Trailblaze, stops at endless words, discovering endless new knowledge and sharing their own knowledge with new cultures. Undoubtedly creating new discoveries, and answering endless questions.
___
The Nihility is all about how nothing matters. Simple as that.
The Trailblaze, in my opinion, is a perfect representation of what Optimistic Nihility is. Nothing matters, so it doesn't matter if I journey across the stars until I've seen it all. People end up on the Astral Express for a variety of reasons, but a lot of them I'd bet arrive there on accident, without intent and purpose. That is what IX is really, a blob of condensed matter, aimlessly drifting through space with no intent or purpose.
___
The Preservation is all about protecting and defending.
The Trailblaze, never hesitates to defend to weak, and to sacrifice even their own lives in the pursuit of protecting those who need protection. We've seen this directly in the story plenty already. Dan Heng was invited on the Astral Express despite the danger he holds as being wanted by the Xianzhou, and Himeko and Welt have shown beyond doubt they would do anything they can to protect all three of the Express kids.
___
The Voracity is about endless hunger, never satisfied.
The Trailblaze, is all about an endless hunger for adventure, with no sign of ever being satisfied without seeing it all.
___
The Remembrance is all about memories and the keeping of history.
The Trailblaze, creates endless amazing memories, memories of endless different worlds and people. Not to mention the databank on the express, keeping endless records of the expresses travels and everything they've seen.
___
The Beauty is all about everything that is beautiful. A very self explanatory path, yet full of mystery.
The Trailblaze, is an endless joyride to see the endless beauty of the universe, beyond the stars to new worlds.
___
The Propagation, ignited out of a desire born from loneliness. This path is a bit more complicated, and one of my personal favourites lore-wise. Its about the creation of more, to spread.
The Trailblaze, travels through the universe, blazing paths through the cosmos so that no world needs be alone again. The crew coming and going, propagating across the universe.
___
The Enigmata is all about fiction and uncertainty. There is no certainty in life and the Enigmata would seek to Mirage and and Change truth, in order for people to find endless possibilities in legends and story.
The Trailblaze, has certainly created some legends and stories themselves. On Penacony, the whole of its history was created and concealed through the actions of crew members of the Astral Express. Every where the crew goes, people know of the Express' name, and tell stories of the Trailblaze, likely changed with time.
___
The Abundance is all about nurturing life. THEY cannot bear to see death and the pains of illness. Ask with sentiment, and you shall receive.
The Trailblaze certainly fits the mark. The crew have gone out of their way to help those with illness before, and saved many from death. I do not see a world where someone needing help asks the Express for it, and the Crew denying them that help. This is the essence of the Abundance.
___
The Equilibrium is all about balance and stability in all things.
The Trailblaze have already brought balance to two whole worlds in the short time that our MC has been aboard the Express. Sealing Stellarons is almost the exact definition of maintaining balance and stability.
___
And lastly the very special case, The Destruction.
This is the one that doesn't fit the bill. The Trailblaze would never seek the destruction of anything. The entire point of the Trailblaze is to explore and connect the Universe that Nanook seeks to destroy. The Trailblaze is at direct odds with The Destruction, the perfect antithesis of one another. There is no room for both Paths in the Imaginary Tree and this is likely to be the conflict of the whole story.
We've already been at direct odds with the Destruction as early as our very first memory as the MC. The attack of the Herta Space Station, the Stellaron on Jarillo, the Emanator on the Loufu, and the Stellaron on Penacony.
We as the Trailblazer have been collecting the Aeons gazes, and I believe this has been possible because of the Trailblazes connection to every other path in some way, shape, or form. Not to mention it seems we've been basically genetically modified to be able to do so from what we've gathered.
The Stellaron Hunters goal is the End of The Destruction. I believe we have been made with the power of Finality to achieve this goal, and are the central puzzle piece to complete this. I believe Elio to be an Emanator of Finality, and with Terminus as his guide, will put into place the path to the End of Destruction.
With the Stellaron, its only natural we receive the gaze of Nanook, and on the Astral Express we can find our eyes meeting with every other Aeon, and travelling along every path through our journey.
The Stellaron inside us gives us the power of the Destruction, which otherwise would never be granted to us; as The Trailblaze is the antithesis of The Destruction. With this, we will out weigh Nanook in might and will, and bring about the destruction, of The Destruction
And with the end of Destruction, a new Aeon will be born, one of the name of peace and adventure. A new Aeon of The Trailblaze.

I just want to check understanding about the drones (sorry for the mix up in wording here) for T'au real quick. There isn't' a ton online that I've found written or otherwise and as a new player I'm going cross eyed.
Does the following hold true? Drones are a free buff to your model/unit, and not taking them is generally disadvantageous. However, some units don't require them, and there is no use in taking them in that case. More specific scenarios/comments below that need checking:
" Cadre Fireblades should have two Gun Drones "
You get to fire all weapons each model has during shooting phase Each weapon has to be directed to different models? So the gun drone would allow me a second target to be shot at if I'm understanding correctly?
" Shield Drones are nearly mandatory on Commander in Suit units "
Another example here of just missing an opportunity? If I'm understanding this correctly, the Commander in Coldstar suit has a starting wound (HP) of 3 and two drones would give him a total of 5? Not taking drone here is a set back.
" Stealthsuits need drones like Marker and Shield "
This is so they can observe an additional unit and Shield to increase their HP? Another disadvantage taking the wrong one or none at all.

I have bipolar mixed, OCD , and generalized anxiety disorder I have been on lithium but does not work as good as it use to and I take benzo as needed. I have daily symptoms from moderate to severe and sometimes I doubt my bipolarality and wonder if OCD is mimicking bipolar symptoms. I an scared of doctors and nurses because I was mistreated when in patient years ago
I can't find a psychiatrist the soonest thing I can find is a psychatric nurse practitioner with three years experience in the psychiatric field. They work at a behavioral outpatient center.
Do you think a nurse practitioner can handle what I consider a complicated case like me? I an running out of lithium in one month and running out of options.
Nervous as hell about seeing a nurse practitioner. They also have five bad Google reviews and one good one.
There might be one other hospital with psychiatrist but appointments not until August the nurse practitioner is available in June.
What should I do? I an scared I might know more then the nurse practitioner I have a bachelor's in psychology and have had mental illness twenty years. So I just go and do what I need to do to get my medication? I an scared of she says something stupid I will walk out of if she is not knowledgeable.

Okay hear me out!
Billie's two previous albums pretty much only had songs that had a story of their own.
In hindsight, i now know that that's also the case for this album (ex: THE DINER being about Billie's stalker). However, when listening to it in order, am i the only one that feels like Billie is telling us a full fledged fictional story?

• SKINNY: Introduction to Billie's state of mind and introduction of the love interest ("fell in love for the first time, with a friend its a good sign").
• LUNCH: Billie has a crush on the love interest, but has yet to voice it to her. These are kinda like her inner thoughts and showcases the infatuation that comes with a new crush.
• CHIHIRO: Billie at last expresses her feelings to the love interest; love interest is unsure avout whether they should persue a relationship because of her personal problems ("you told me it was war, said you'd show me whats in store").
• BIRDS OF A FEATHER: The love song, they are together now.
• WILDFLOWER: We discover further reasons why this love isnt perfect: the love interest dated someone else in Billie's group before Billie dated her. Now she's feeling some type of way about it; sad, confused, jealous.
• THE GREATEST: Although they are officially dating and Billie has all this love to give, Billie realizes that its not being reciprocated in the same way (the other girl did warn her in "Chihiro"). This is the break up song.
• L'AMOUR DE MA VIE: After the break up, Billie is bitter. I mostly interpret this one as a denial song. She is trying to convince herself that this wasnt the love of her life and that shes the own that got away for her ex.
• THE DINER: But Billie's real feelings come back around. She finds herself stalking her ex, wondering what she's up to. I imagine that at this point, the ex might be sending some mixed signals and leading Billie on a bit, because the other girl also has residual feelings for Billie. Some toxic shit 😂
• BITTERSUITE: This is the post break up hook up song. Billie singing "L'amour de ma vie" in this song really contributes to the feeling that BITTERSUITE is about the same person that that song was about.
• BLUE: I interpret this as the final break up, and more insight into the ex's character, such as why she might have an avoidant attachment style (what Billie says about the ex's mother and father). Finally, the love story ends here.

Did you also get this feeling when listening to the album for the first time?

I remember when I was a little girl I would look in the mirror and just be so disappointed, in my mind, I was ugly, stupid, and poor, and it broke me completely. I would get bullied heavily in elementary school not only because I was poor but because I was chubby, while I ate lunch kids would stand by my desk and make pig sounds at me, oinking and calling me butterball. They told me I had meth head teeth. The only thing I liked about myself was my freckles but that brief feeling of liking myself soon disappeared when one boy told me it looked like I had shit splattered on my face.
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.
​
​

I am a black woman. I have been 19 for a little over a month now. I was raised in, and live in, an area with a very low black population.
My preference has changed a lot over time, which is something I’ve more recently started to think about.
The first crushes I remember having ever had, like when I was preschool-elementary school aged, were on Michael J Fox (when he was Marty in “Back to the Future,” may be more accurate to suggest that I had a crush on Marty mcfly,) and Michael Jackson (my parents had his music videos on DVD. I’ve never liked the way he looked in the 2000s, but I think when I was little I liked the way he looked in the 70s-90s. However, in sixth grade, I remember remarking that I thought 80s Michael Jackson was more attractive than 70s Michael Jackson when chatting with my former best friend, who had the opposite opinion.)
My parents have also always liked to tease about how I “dated” a white boy when I was three, claiming that I liked how blue his eyes were. What I find interesting now that I am an adult is that me liking blue eyes and blonde hair (the combination that I believe the kid I liked when I was three had, though it was much too long ago and I don’t remember how he looked or really anything about him at all,) is something that I’m not sure has entirely gone away.
I say this only because in 11th grade, I was already fascinated by/somewhat attracted to a boy I sat next to in Statistics because of his blue eyes and blonde hair, even though I hadn’t yet seen him without a mask (and when I did see him without a mask, I still liked his appearance. To me, he was a little above average.) There was also a mixed race (1/2 black 1/2 white) boy who was considered to be conventionally attractive by most of the grade who I was very attracted to in 12th grade (fawning over him in the halls kind of attracted, which is rare for me,) and he had both light skin and colored eyes (I no longer remember his eye color, though I’m certain it was blue or green.)
In 4th grade, I had a crush on a Filipino boy who I was no longer attracted to by high school (he was a nice person, though, which was partly why I’d liked him so much.) In 6th grade, I had a crush on a 1/2 white 1/2 Japanese boy (he didn’t look fully phenotypically Asian, but didn’t look “white” either. I don’t know what I thought he was. By the time we were in high school and I was perhaps more familiar with different phenotypes, I could see how he was mixed with Asian. But off the top of my head, he may have looked more similar to a Mexican/Latino person.) In 7th or 8th grade, I was either attracted to or had a crush on an Asian girl (she was not considered above average, she had apparently been teased about her looks in elementary school - she was at a healthy weight, at the time her look worked for me but at some point in high school I saw her again and she was subjectively unattractive to me.)
In 10th grade during quarantine, I started to crush on an older above average looking black man who had been kind to me in 9th grade (in this case, the attraction may have actually been reciprocated.) I also had a crush on an average looking white girl, was overweight (may have been a little below average, I don’t know. I also liked her in 10th grade. I was very lonely and depressed in 10th grade.)
I had a crush on David Bowie throughout all of middle school. I remember listening to his albums “Hunky Dory” alongside “Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.” I loved Jareth from “Labyrinth.” (I was also a big fan of stranger things in middle school, and thought Finn Wolfhard was cute during the second season. I hadn’t really noticed Caleb McLaughlin and found him attractive until I became an adult.)
I will note that I was very attracted to Tim Curry’s Dr Frank N Furter maybe four-five months ago after seeing “rocky horror picture show” for the first time, even though I’m not really attracted to most white men anymore. It was just the energy he exuded.
I had my longest strongest crush on another light skinned mixed race (1/2 black 1/2 white) boy in high school, although he was a bad person. He was slightly above average physically, though he became average by 11th grade and I no longer liked him because he had criticized my appearance behind my back. He had dark brown eyes and I was very into him between 9th-10th grade (crush continued after online schooling had begun,) because I felt he was the only person who noticed my depression, and liked that he wasn’t dismissive of me yet (he later on sort of became dismissive of me after I messed up during a public discussion. I think he’d been curious about me because a friend of his told him I’d been known as smart in middle school.)
In 11th grade, I dated an overweight black boy who I had regarded as average (he was dark skinned. Some may subjectively regard him as a little below average due to the weight and racism, although I remember thinking he had a very common looking face, straight teeth.) I do regret the relationship, he was a bad person. But he was my first sexual experience and this is likely why I know now that if I have another sexual experience, I’d ideally like for it to be with a darker skinned black man (or a Mexican/Latino man, just someone who I suppose has darker skin than the average white man.) It’s strange because before 11th grade I didn’t tend to think sexually about men often, it used to be women but I haven’t felt attraction toward a woman in three years.
I know that I am not attracted to most white men, as someone who lives around a lot of them.
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Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”

He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?

PROOF
Happy Saturday. For sale today is an eclectic set of items for your viewing and buying pleasure.
Kitco silver spot $31.48
American Silver Eagles (some BU, some not so much):
$33 ea (min 3) or pick 20 for $650 (tube included) or BIN all 31 for $990
1 x 1991 - sold
1 x 1995 - sold
1 x 1998 - sold
1 x 1999 - sold
4 x 2000 - 1 sold
1 x 2009
4 x 2010 - 1 sold
1 x 2011
2 x 2013 - 1 sold
6 x 2014
3 x 2017
4 x 2018
1 x 2021
1 x 2022
ASE pic
Tube of 25 mixed Canadian Maple Leaf $790
1 x 2002
3 x 2011
1 x 2017
11x 2022
9 x 2023
Maples
2016 Mexican Elements (PF-69 Ultra Cameo) $250
Absolutely stunning details and…….bewbs
Pics
Daniel Carr 2022-CC Morgan (MS-62) $225
If you don’t know much about Daniel Carr from Moonlight Mint look him up some time. For this coin he overstruck (using surplus Denver Mint coin press) on a genuine Morgan dollar. I recently upgraded so I’m releasing this one to the community. Complete your Morgan collection!
Pics
Other silver lots:
Lot of 2 Johnson Matthey 1 ozt bars in cases, beautiful proof-like finish, and “nearly” consecutive serial numbers, $75
Pics
Lot of 2 Pamp 1 ozt bars (no assay), one has minor toning but still beautiful, $75
Pics
Lot of 2 Geigers in assay, some toning (1 oz and 20g), $70
Pics
If you have read this far, thank you, and for that I would like to offer a below spot deal of a 5 ozt Sunshine Mint bar for $155
Pics
Shipping +5 for USPS Ground Advantage bubble mailer or +9 for SFRB (CONUS only).
More pics available by request.
Venmo only this time.
Open to shipping first to established members with more total flair than me. I hand package over to USPS agent and once scanned I'm not responsible for the shipment. (ships Monday)
Comment first below then PM or chat. Thanks for looking.