Boxer problems

The world is so distracted by the entertainment,by their own amusement,they are more concerned about the entertainment in their life..They become more self entitled of their own stupid life,of what to post on instagram,or the song in their post,of what the best song,what Drake and Kendrick and other clowns like boxer do and post,the match of Mike Tyson vs Logan Paul,that they distracted from the fact a horrendous crime against another human just like me and you,are being done,that the devil done unveil and start killing the whole hospital and kids,and they do it without remorse just like a true evil,well they are Evil,I think it is not our problem to decide their intention but to stop them…A shitty World🥲

Mirror Face is one of the least popular plot devices in the RGG series. Maybe even THE least popular. There are a lot of posts asking "why is Mirror Face a thing" or something to that effect, but...do you ever SERIOUSLY wonder? I did, and I wrote a bunch about it :3c
(any errors, tell me and i'll fix it! if it's a critical error that topples my entire premise then uhhh i cut off my pinky finger i guess)
let it be known this is not a defence. This is me looking into the circumstances that may have caused him. This features spoilers for Yakuza 5, Kiwami 2, Judgment and Infinite Wealth, just FYI
Ryo Aoki has made it clear he prefers to take care of "loose ends", i.e. assassinating possible information leaks. He did this with Ogasawara, so it's entirely in line with his MO that he'd want to assassinate Sawashiro too after he'd been assassinated. However, there are currently two big names at his disposal in the Omi that we know of that he could use:

• Reiji Ishioda, a man known for being loud, unpredictable and destructive. First seen using a wrecking ball. Absolute worst candidate for a covert assassination
• Yosuke Tendo, a hulking behemoth of an ex-boxer. Very capricious, and actually okay at assassinations, but Sawashiro's in prison - how would Tendo get him there? Not to mention setting up a fight with Tendo in Yokohama means 1) Ishioda gets even less than what he already has, 2) takes the air out of his fight with Ichiban in the Millennium Tower, and would make it much less of a final boss, not to mention he may not even be there as he'd be stuck in prison - also, the idea of an Ishioda final boss (or Masato only) would be very weird

Both these options aren't good, so it has to be someone else. Nobody in the Omi fits, not even any of the minor Omi characters encountered so far (like that one crazy guy who says he was gonna gut Ichiban like a fish)
Surely there can be someone else?

• (Infinite Wealth) The assassin who killed Hoshino might have been a good bet. Unsure of if he has prison access though, and it might also just be Mirror Face again? Also, most importantly, he wasn't present in the writing because IW wasn't out obviously
• Funny answer, (Yakuza 5) because his previous line of work was this exact kind of thing: Baba. Saejima was on the inside in this case, though, and also if he did this, it'd show he learnt nothing from Shinada
• From the above, I used to think Mitsuo could have been something just because he barely appeared. We don't know much about post-timeskip Mitsuo, but the prologue makes it clear Sawashiro did NOT treat him or Ichiban well, and one possible route could have been a resentful Mitsuo finally wanting him dead, as spending the last 18 years alone under Sawashiro with no Ichiban to act as a lightning rod both drove him over the edge and turned him into a hardened yakuza. I'd get not doing this though as you risk repeating Nishiki's storyline and having Ichiban come across as retreading Kiryu's steps with the "i just got back from prison for nearly 20 years for a murder i didn't do but took the fall for anyway but kyodai nooo don't kill people you're so sexy haha" stuff, and also because it'd be kinda shocking for Mitsuo to turn out that way

Nope. Still nothing :(
What other options are there?

• Have someone on the inside handle matters, the way Sera did between 0 and Kiwami. However, this involves pulling a guy out of thin air the player didn't know, and now you have to explain where they were before this. Kiryu has also not counted this as an option, stating only law enforcement could get to Sawashiro, so you can't send someone in to do this either, also if it's in prison the Ichigang can't get to him at all - no way to stop him
• A corrupt police officer. However, Aoki holds little influence over Kanagawa's police department as the Daidoji-backed CLP still holds their seat here, and you'd also need to make a new guy. I can't think of anyone else that can move in and out of prison like this
• Someone who can IMPERSONATE a police officer, removing the restriction of them having to be a Kanagawa PD officer. This works

With what you have now, you pretty much have to pull a guy out of thin air to assassinate Sawashiro as there are no viable existing candidates that make sense to kill Sawashiro. It's got to be a new guy who can also impersonate a cop well enough to get into a high security prison, AND get out. Since it's a new guy, he can be anything. RGG Studio decided that his degree of impersonation would be spot-on, 100% perfect, down to the voice and face, down to the muscles?
Why? Why a perfect imitation?
I...am not sure??? Maybe it was easier just to use the models of the people he impersonates rather than making "kind of but not quite" versions, or perhaps they realised the impersonation has to be at LEAST good enough for the players not to feel like the game wants them to accept a subpar imitation, and cranked the accuracy on his outfits up to 100%. Yagami and Kaito got by on much worse though, so maybe not that one, but THIS is the part that pissed a lot of people off. There could also be the issue of having to bring in another voice actor for an imperfect imitation, but I doubt they were anywhere near THAT hard-up for money. I'm not sure if they were any of these reasons, but I'm thinking of possible ones rather
(Why did he choose to impersonate some retired traffic cop anyway? Maybe if it were a big name cop, the ruse might fall apart due to someone figuring out where the real one was at the time, and the real one's word counts for something - for a nobody like Adachi, it'd just be easier to have the real Adachi take the fall for it)
So here we have the corner the writers have gotten themselves into: an assassin who can impersonate law enforcement very well, who until now has not popped up, and can't be in prison currently. They have, for whatever reason, perhaps one of the ones above, decided he can imitate people perfectly, with personality only slightly flawed. Some people are good at imitating voices very well. With the right tools, you can imitate a number of people, too. As far as body builds, it's difficult, but if you're lucky to have the same build as the people you're imitating, then fine. All three, without having to dedicate. (Not-Tendo has no Kansai drawl from what I hear, but he's still Pretty Close voicewise)
It's worth noting this isn't the first time perfect imitation of appearance has happened. Far from it - the Jingweon have demonstrated it, not least with The Man Himself, Yeonsu Kim, andFake Kazuki in Kiwami 2 . However, K2 didn't use him as a major plot point, so it's easy to understand why people are...a little more annoyed about Mirror Face in 7. (Lost Judgment)also features this, but shows an obvious drawback in that you can't talk too much in it, nor make certain expressions
(In Yeonsu's case it's permanent plastic surgery so it's different. (Kiwami 2) Kazuki though? Do you think someone really got themselves to permanently look like the host of some Kamurocho host club for the sake of a single scheme? He barely did anything too that's so funny)
What about his appearance in the finale?
Everything Mirror Face!Tendo said is something Tendo himself could have said. An earlier scene in the finale saw Aoki tell Tendo in no uncertain terms he is disposable; Tendo has already shown he's capricious and disloyal when switching sides during the Dissolution's fight (and killing Arakawa), so surely it wouldn't be OOC for him to turn on Aoki between that and dissatisfaction with being disposable? Doesn't need Mirror Face at all. Not really sure Mirror Face was really needed here?? The first contrivance was pushing it to begin with, and bringing Mirror Face back in (plus how did Ichiban get his number so easily???) is a little much. I think this could have done without Not-Tendo
What could RGG have done to not put themselves in this corner? Maybe avoid Mirror Face entirely, perfect imitation or no?

• Yokoyama himself has admitted he's a "write as I go" kind of writer, so it's pretty likely he wrote himself into this corner without realising it, if he was responsible for the circumstances that created Mirror Face. It's hard to give a "shoulda" to a guy with this writing style, but maybe:
• There could have been a corrupt cop introduced earlier on that would have fit the bill for this assassination. Aoki has the Tokyo PD in his pocket though, not Kanagawa,, so you might need to bring a corrupt Kanagawa PD officer in - corruption in the higher ranks has already been stated by Adachi
• (Judgment) Also, ANOTHER Tokyo PD hitman, making it two games in a row, within the space of less than a year, might be a little overdoing it. It would have made the Tokyo PD look like they have a really bad serial killer problem, though. It would be really funny however and I think that'd be worth it. Worth noting though that (Lost Judgment) Tokyo PD can absolutely muscle in on and even take over Yokohama investigations, so it wouldn't be ENTIRELY out of the question. Actually now I think about it Soma would have been a good candidate though I'm unsure of if the Ichigang could come out on top against him. He's a horror movie villain
• (Lost Judgment) Or...the rubber face masks Kuwana used. In that case, the lack of voice was very much an imperfection, and for Mirror Face you could have had him remain a man of few words
• A reason to bring Sawashiro out of prison briefly could be one to open up the assassin candidate list, but I have NO clue how, given he's in for murder (a charge that generally doesn't provide bail) in a place Aoki has little direct influence over the police. I think Sawashiro calling the police on himself in an attempt to get Ichiban to stop him was really well done and I wouldn't want to remove that, and removing Sawashiro entirely would remove the post-fight cutscene which was pretty good, even if the double locker baby plot twist took similar heat to Mirror Face after the game came out
• Have his "base" appearance resemble a slightly off Adachi. Just have him be a naturally big guy who only needs the makeup and outfit. That one's simple. The first appearance (on the Geomijul monitors) kinda just shows him to be a slightly taller guy with an average build - with no finale appearance, he doesn't really need to imitate Tendo either
• Having the Sawashiro showdown happen under completely different circumstances. However just going "they should have simply done it differently" is worth little on its own though. I'm not. I'm not a writer

My opinion? The issue was that his imitation had no imperfections other than personality. Make his face a little off, or have him speak very little. it's like magic as it is!!
TL;DR: They wrote themselves into a corner and Mirror Face was the most convenient contrivance they had because there was really little to nothing in the way of other possible contrivances. It almost had to be an expert lookalike assassin who previously hadn't popped up. There was no reason he had to be such a good imitator that it's almost supernatural, though. That's entirely on them and I have no clue why they did that - but the rest of it had to happen pretty much. Also he didn't need to be there at the end
TL;DR TL;DR: the worst sins committed with Mirror Face were his 100% perfect imitation skills and his unnecessary appearance as not-Tendo at the end. yes i still don't think it was a very good plot device
TL;DR except it's a gif:
https://i.redd.it/cz6l92ag481d1.gif

Hi everyone! Ive been reading on this community for a while and I decided to finally make a thread :D
So, Im a 28 guy with a fitness/sports background. The main problem has always been...the consistency. Ive been, for personal reasons, like +1 year with No training at all (I moved from my country). Now that Im a lil more chill, started hitting the gym again. Looking for some routines to start "from the scratch", I ended up finding this community, and........K boges. I really LOVE this way of training, since it allows you to train every single day (and im definitely not a sedentary guy) just taking care of the weekly volume.
So, I was wondering if any of you guys, who have tried this program for a while, take a look at this simple routine I made, and help me with some things. But first of all, before u even ask, I have talk about my goals: I just dont care about progressing to do fancy skills, neither developing that "bulky gymbro" type of physique. I just wanna get lean and be stronger. Think about a boxemma kind of physique.
The routine: Day A) pullups 3x near failure Pushups 3x near failure Squats 2x near failure Abs/core* 1-2x near failure
Day B) Wide pullups 3x nf Bench press** 3x nf Squats 2x nf Abs 1-2x nf
Thats it. Monday to saturday. ABABAB. k boges doesnt actually recommend any core exercises, I guess its because bodyweight training would be "enough" but I wanted to add one at least. Id choose 3 or 4 variations to switch. * why weights? Since I will be hitting the gym, this minimal "hybrid" modification would not be bad. Bench press is like king for chest.
So, now. Do you consider it balanced? Something to change? I wanna keep it as simple as possible and focus on consistency. My principal doubts are on progression/overload. What would you do? Add reps every week? Sets? Pullups and pushups could eventually be weighted I guess (thats the idea) Im here to hear any suggestions!
About the diet. Im planning to finally go to a nutritionist, start a serious diet with a cal deficit (not an extreme one) until 12/14% bf. As I said, I just dont care about not looking "big". What do you think? Could it work or I would end up losing strenght/muscle doing it that way?
Sorry for the soo soo long post, and hope to read you soon!

I’m still only able to wear tight boxers day and night (without any problem by the way). But anything more then that is much to sensitive. What to do?

My senior Peke, Twinkie, is around 10 years old now. She's been on phenobarbital for a little over 2 months to control idiopathic epilepsy. Well, I swear, I have a totally different dog now!
For the most part, she seems happier, more active and playful. But it almost seems like the pheno "reactivated" an old spinal injury (7+ years ago) that left her partially paralyzed temporarily - she could walk and potty just fine, but she had no feeling or reaction to stimuli to her rear paws (the vet said her being mobile was involuntary or subconscious, or out of instinct or habit?). She was on crate rest for 6 weeks and on prednisone, rimadyl and dasuquin advanced, and after all that, she was back to normal. And now, she's very wobbly in the rear end, clumsy, and when playing with a toy will throw it around and sort of pivot on her butt to turn to get it, so she's using her whole front of her body, but barely any of her butt or back legs. She walks, runs, jumps and potties just fine, though, so it doesn't seem to be a problem. Her labs and liver levels 3 weeks after starting the pheno were normal. Anyways...
Here's the weird stuff:

1. She has never been a dog to get into trouble or find mischief. She plays with her toys nicely and never breaks or rips them. All of sudden, Twinkie is a naughty pants! Yesterday, she found one of my adult kid's dirty socks, and I caught her chewing on it! She let me take it and put it up without a problem. But today, she found another sock, and did NOT want to give it up. Out of fear of getting bitten, my kid used my grabber tool to try to take it, and Twinkie went after it! What the heck? It's like she was invoking my first Peke, Lily, whose favorite "toys" were my late husband's dirty socks!!! I've never seen another dog do that in the last 15 years! Lily never guarded them in a nasty way, but in a teasing way. She wouldn't even play with toys, JUST the socks! Also, since starting this medication, Twinkie has been copying my kid's Pomsky (who we got October 2022) and shredding Kleenex! I know dogs learn things from other dogs, but for Twinkie, it's JUST the naughty things.. and vice versa, Maple (the Pomsky) has learned to guard things from Twinkie.
2. Twinkie has gotten SUPER whiny, annoyingly so, since beginning phenobarbital. She whines when she's nesting, whines whilst asleep, whines for no apparent reason, but the worst is the whining in the morning! It's like her internal clock is way out of whack. She normally eats breakfast between 10 and 11am (it used to be 9 - 9:30 until these issues started), and dinner at 8:30. Well, now she thinks if the sun is up, and someone got up to use the bathroom, it's time for breakfast, and if it's around 7pm, she demands dinner. The mornings are the worst - the sun starts coming up around 5am, and she'll start whining and yipping LOUDLY anytime between 6am and whenever I feed her. The earliest I'll feed her is 10:30am, the latest 11am. Dinner is the same, except she starts around 7pm, and I feed her earliest at 8:30pm, the latest is 9pm. I'm being strict about the schedule, because she's been so disruptive to me & my adult kids - one who is disabled with ASD + mental health diagnoses, the other who works 2 jobs and also has mental health diagnoses - that we're all exhausted and struggling to perform our daily duties. I've begun putting her on a leash at the first whine of the morning and night, and keeping her close to me, which seems to help, but I still have to get up early to do it... which leaves me needing a nap midday! I'd keep her in my bed overnight, but for a 10 lb dog, she takes up a LOT of space on my bed! She insists on laying the wide way and will push me to the very edge of my bed, which interrupts my sleep. So, for now, the leash is helping the other 2 humans get their necessary sleep at least.
3. She's been "corncobbing" the Pomsky when they're playing. I don't know if corncobbing is the same kind of thing as "pibble nibbles", but Twinkie is doing that when she's NEVER done it before. You know where they just use the front of their teeth and take tiny little bites in a row? My second oldest daughter has a Boxer Pit mix that corncobs, but I've never seen another dog do it aside from her. Twinkie just started the corncobbing and also play biting the Pomsky about 2 weeks ago. She does it on her butt, legs, and neck.
4. She's been just sitting outside in the rain during her potty breaks, and she has always hated rain! Up until a week ago, if it was raining, she'd walk the edge of the house under the eaves to go potty, and come right back in afterwards. Some rainy days she just skips pooping altogether, she hates it that much! Oddly, she likes snow! But that's just weird for her, to just sit on the sidewalk, getting rained on and not wanting to come in, even with treat bribes.
5. She's not more cranky than usual - she's always been a crotchety old hag of a dog - but she's been more bitey than normal, and picks fights with the Pomsky and is always warning the Boxer mix. If she's in a bad mood (which has always been a LOT of the time), if another dog gets within 8 feet of her or her things - her things include everything in the room, including me - she's growling, baring teeth and lunging at them.

I've been calling her my "drunken munchkin", because she's been so weird and not making sense in my mind. Sometimes she's a playful puppy like she's never been since I've had her (around 2 years), and other times she's a vicious rabid beastie! She's always been a quirky little thing, scared of hiccups and gum chewing and dolls, hates being baby talked or having her space invaded (including stranger's hands coming at her for pets) and hates kids, but only if they're moving (walking, running, jumping). She loves kids when they're infants in car seats or rockers, or sleeping toddlers and kids... she'll kiss them and snuggle up with them. She seems to hate certain people or dogs, but then when they rough house together, she wants to defend them? Wacky! She loves people the most of they completely ignore her and pretend she doesn't exist. If a person ignores her like that, she'll climb into their lap and make herself at home, but as soon as they're talking or touching or even making eye contact sometimes, she's growling and/or showing teeth.
Anyways, I've added a video of her and the sock plus pics for funsies. She's such a sweet, innocent looking demon dog! SHE seems to think she's a Rottweiler, and is fearless (for the most part). She's just a little weirdo, and I wish I could understand her. That's my one issue with rescues, is you never truly know what their previous life was like. Clearly she has trauma. She had a broken rib at some point, and it healed sticking out. But I love her so much, and she is the first dog I've had that has been loyal to me... I'm her person. All our previous dogs and rescues bonded to my husband... he was an animal and kid magnet! So that part is nice. I love that she's independent and doesn't NEED to be on or near me all the time, and doesn't whine when I leave (most of the time). She's very sweet with me, and so she's mine and I'm hers.
https://reddit.com/link/1cugw3v/video/bgsgvufo121d1/player
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I've seen people really confused and these have already been posted on the discord but the people who need to here it the most are here so here they are:
Feel free to add your questions in the comments and check to see if your questions are here:
Q: Do I need a powerful OC to participate? A: No, I unironically likely have like 5 OCs weaker than ur weakest OCs.
Q: What is a scaling system? A: Basically, so that we have a fair system that can measure everyone's OCs, we use a scaling system that helps put abilities, intelligence, strength ect. into terms so that every story/verse is able to be put up against each other. For words like: Hyperversal, 2-C, 6-B ect., we just use the tiering system from CSaP Wiki.
Q: How do I know where my character scales? A: I'll make a post and comment it down there because I want to help you guys understand where they'd go using a general scaling system. Upvoted it so people see.
Q: What is a cosmology? A: A cosmology is essentially the world that your story has, like let me give an example:
Dragon Ball has the otherworld, universe 1 - 12 and such, that's a cosmology.
Now people here tend to use SimpleMind to make basic charts but you need like actual explanations for what certain things are or they mean nothing.
Q: Do you need a cosmology? A: No, I (technically) don't even have one myself lmao.
Q: Do I need to make a cosmology charts? v A: Nope, does dragon ball have some diagram, hell no! just explain it or just use like a picture doodle diagram or something if you can't be asked to find it.
Q: What is NLF (No Limits Fallacy)?. A: Well, that's when your (or someone else's) character has a problem with their feats so it can't really be scaled.
They have no proper limits, now characters can be limitless within their own story, that's fine, look at Saitama for example.
But when they have feats saying "I am an unkillable limitless omnipotent god who kills everyone", that's just saying "my OC beat your OC because I said so", and no one wants these caveman kinda back and forth arguments.
Let's bring up Jake Paul (trust it's relevant), he is an undefeated boxer (iirc) but is he unbeatable? I don't think I need to tell you that. Same thing with your OCs.
Q: How do I make cosmology charts? A: A software called SimpleMind.
As said earlier, feel free to leave your questions in the comments.

I camped and hiked as a teen and all through my 20's and never really had a problem with sweat. Now I'm in my 40's, have two herniated discs and still love hiking, albeit without a pack and using poles. But the crotch and booty sweat is gross.
I've switched away from cotton boxer briefs to moisture wicking ones but it's not helping as much as I hoped for. Any tips of products to help is greatly appreciated.

I'm doing heel training with my sports dog and walk down the same street in my neighborhood every day. It's great, it has a cross walk at the end of a cul de sac for safe street-crossing practice, couple of lazy cats that sit around on the mail boxes, a few houses with fence-reactive dogs, one home with an off leash elderly dachshund always out front that is basically blind, few homes have sprinklers on over the sidewalks, all the best distractions for training my dog, group of children play at the end of it for ignoring or practicing CGC "accept pet", perfect...
..and one house that has a couple that sit on the porch each evening reading or chatting or whatever it is they're doing there. They ALWAYS greet my dog by name and pet her in the appropriate training way, not allowing jumping, they are expert dog petters. It's really appreciated as my dog is super high energy and can't sit still for 1 second to be pet unless it's by a pro-petter that knows how to stand back up and ignore until she's seated ... over and over... and over. I know that one reliable pro-petter is worth 50 bozos outside a store or park that say "sure I understand, ignore when she isn't sitting" and then don't. Very excitable high energy dog, that really needs several months worth of being-pet experience in order to pass the CGC, but she's already a lightning fast disc-dog, I guess high-energy has it's cost. These people understand what I'm trying to do and the problem my dog is having, and I wanted to get them a gift or something for wasting time out of their day every single day nearly to pet and stop and pet and stop and so on. Great people.
They have two boxers that remain inside and just peer out jealously from the window. What's the best toys or whatever for boxers? I only have herding dogs and herding balls, frisbees, stuff like that are the champion toy (as well as puzzle feeders etc). What is the equivalent of that, but for boxers? What kind of thing can I gift them that their dogs surely would enjoy, and they likely don't already have?
Thanks a lot!

Can you already guess?
Of course three a holes are walking in to the park with a poorly disciplined and off-leash boxepit mix as we are leaving.
Of course the dog has to start acting threatening to my kids and I.
Of course the dog nutter shit heads give me the eye roll and act like I'm the problem when I tell them to get their shit beast on a leash.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckingfuck. FUCK!
The numerous dog parks aren't enough. All of the regular parks you invade with your fucking dogs isn't enough.
You still have to bring your fucking aggressive piece of shit animal to a No Dogs Allowed Park, one of the very few in Spokane.
Go fuck yourselves you inconsiderate trash.
I got pics of all three of you and your dog in the park. I got pics of what must have been your vehicle and license plate (there were two vehicles in the only parking lot, mine and the other one).
I sent it all to SCRAPS (Spokane County Regional Animal Protection Services). I'm going to hope and pray they show up at your front door and hand you a fine
Rant over.

Seven
...
In 1945, Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac were students at Columbia University and were lodging in Joan Vollmer’s apartment on West 115th Street. Kerouac, a Catholic who had gotten in on a football scholarship described Ginsberg as “this spindly Jewish kid with horn-rimmed glasses and tremendous ears sticking out…burning black eyes”; the two men had a brief, awkward affair. Their friend William Burroughs was living nearby, on Riverside Drive, and after Kerouac and Ginsberg set him up with their landlady, he moved in, too. The gaunt and lanky Burroughs was more than a decade older than Ginsberg and Kerouac, and already seemed, Ginsberg recalled, to have the “ashen gray of an old-age cheek.” The younger pair admired him, Ginsberg wrote, like “ambassadors to a Chinese emperor.” Kerouac hailed him as “the last of the Faustian men.” Burroughs returned the compliment by introducing the other members of the “libertine circle,” as they dubbed themselves, to drugs, sailors, porn, bathhouses, and Wilhelm Reich.

After leaving Harvard in 1936, Burroughs had enrolled at the University of Vienna’s medical schools, Reich’s alma mater, with vague plans of becoming a psychoanalyst, but his stay was dominated by the administration of arsenic shots for the syphilis he had contracted in America, which left him feeling nauseated and depressed. He left after a semester. Back in New York, Burroughs was analyzed by Paul Federn, who had been Reich’s first therapist but whom Reich came to consider his nemesis. Burroughs was institutionalized in 1940 after he chopped off the tip of his finger in a Van Gogh - like gesture of unrequited love (Bellevue psychiatrists diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic). Burroughs’s parents gave him an allowance of two hundred dollars a month on the condition that he seek further help, and in 1946 Burroughs was undergoing narco-analysis with Dr. Lewis Wolberg, who used nitrous oxide and hypnosis to stimulated the unconscious.
Burroughs would return from his sessions with Wolberg to practice “wild analysis” on his friends, interpreting their dreams from the comfort of a wing chair. He also played a game that parodied the Reichian character analysis that he’d become interested in. The group would play an adaption of charades to facilitate the exploration of the onion layers of their personality armor. Burroughs referred to these exercises in amateur dramatics as “routines.” For example, underneath Burroughs’s public persona as the distinguished heir of an important St. Louis family lurked a prissy, lesbian English governess (“My dear, you’re just in time for tea. Don’t say those dirty words in front of everybody!”). Scratch the governess surface and you reached Old Luke, a gun-toting, tobacco-chewing sharecropper from the Deep South (“Ever gut a catfish?”). The last stratum, at his very core, held a silent Chinaman, a contemplative, impassive character who sat meditating on the banks of the Yangtse. Ginsberg’s hidden self was “the well-groomed Hungarian,” and Kerouac liked to play the naïve American lost in the sophistications of Paris.
Alfred Kinsey met Burroughs, Ginsberg, and Kerouac on one of their nocturnal trips to Time Square through their friend Herbert Huncke, the male prostitute who coined the term “beat” and introduced Burroughs to recreational drugs. Kinsey paid Huncke
Taking advantage of the proximity of Cott’s office to his father’s home, and still buzzing in the mouth, Ginsberg chose to come out during a posttherapeutic visit. “You mean you like to take men’s penises in your mouth?” his father said unsympathetically. But Cott thought homosexuality a perversion, as Reich did, and was working toward establishing heterosexual primacy rather than trying to persuade Ginsberg to come to terms with his queerness. “Frankly I won’t trust that kind of straight genital Reichian,” Burroughs wrote in disgust at this dogmatism. “Feller say, when a man gets too straight he’s just a god damned prick.”
Cott terminated Ginsberg’s therapy after three months because he continued to smoke pot against the doctor’s advice. Ginsberg though cannabis an integral part of his aesthetic education; Cott feared that it would lead to a psychotic episode. The summer he quit therapy, Ginsberg began experiencing auditory hallucinations. “It was like God had a human voice,” Ginsberg wrote of his transcendental experience, in which he discovered his calling as a poet, “with all the infinite tenderness and mortal gravity of a living Creator speaking to his son.” Consumed by a desire to share his amazing experience, Ginsberg crawled out onto his fire escape and tapped on the next-door neighbor’s windows, declaring to the two frightened girls inside, “I’ve seen God!”
His father, still reeling from the discovery of his son’s sexuality, feared that he was suffering from the paranoid schizophrenia that had caused his mother to be institutionalized in Pilgrim State, a mental hospital on Long Island. She also heard voices, feared her husband was trying to poison her, hallucinated Hitler’s mustache in the sink, and thought spies were following her. When Ginsberg entered Reichian analysis, she was reportedly banging her head against the wall so ferociously that the doctors recommended a lobotomy.
Ginsberg phoned up Dr. Cott, his former therapist, and told him, “It happened, I had some kind of breakthrough or psychotic experience.” Cott, who followed Reich in rejecting the talking cure, and who was obviously still angry at Ginsberg for choosing pot over therapy, said, “I’m afraid any discussion would have no value” and hung up on him. Soon afterward, when Ginsberg was involved in a car chase in a stolen vehicle that ended in a dramatic crash, he was encouraged by a law professor at Columbia, where he was still a student, to plead insanity. Dr. Cott appeared in court to testify to his mental instability, and two months later Ginsberg was admitted to the Columbia Presbyterian Psychiatric institute, where he stayed for eight months.
During Ginsberg’s hospitalization, Burroughs wrote to Jack Kerouac to ask him to find out from Ginsberg what the “gadget made by Reichians” looked like. “I want especially to know its shape and if there is a window, and how one gets into it.” Kerouac doesn’t seem to have been much help in providing a blueprint. Burroughs built his first accumulator in the spring of 1949 when he was living on a rented farm in Pharr, Texas, with Kells Elvins, a friend from his Harvard days. They were both enthusiastically reading Reich’s The Cancer Biopathy and decided to build an accumulator in the orange grove Kells owned in the Rio Grande Valley. Built without recourse to any plans, the resulting device included some curious innovations. “Inside was an old icebox,” Burroughs explained, “which you could get inside and pull on a contrivance so that another box of sheet steel descended over you, so that the effect was presumably heightened.” It took them a few days to construct the box. The result was eight feet high, much taller than the ones Reich manufactured: “It was a regular townhouse,” Burroughs recalled.
The pair took turns sitting in the accumulator and obtained, Burroughs wrote, “unmistakable results.” Burroughs wondered what the Mexican farm laborers thought of this strange box that they entered “wrapped in old towels,” and came out of feeling “much sexier and healthier,” “with hard-ons.” Burroughs and Kells also made one of Reich’s smaller shooter boxes, with a funnel, which they used as a supplement to the big box. Their DIY was, Burroughs admitted, “a very sloppy job,” but it still have a powerful “sexual kick.”
"I have just been reading Wilhelm Reich’s latest book The Cancer Biopathy,” Burroughs wrote excitedly to Kerouac. “I tell you Jack, he is the only man in the analysis line who is on that beam. After reading the book I built an orgone accumulator and the gimmick really works. The man is not crazy, he’s a fucking genius.” Kerouac described Burroughs enthusiastically promoting the box in On the Road (1955). According to Kerouac, Burroughs said, “Say, why don’t you fellows try my orgone accumulator? Put some juice in your bones. I always rush up and take off ninety miles an hour for the nearest whorehouse, hor-hor-hor!”
Burroughs used an orgone box on and off for the rest of his life. (There is a picture of the rock star Kurt Cobain waving through the port-hole of Burrough’s last box, a scruffy, patched-up shed that he kept in the garden behind his house in Lawrence, Kansas.) In the 1970s he wrote an article for Oui magazine entitled “All the accumulators I have owned” in which he boasted, “Your intrepid reporter, at age thirty-seven, achieved spontaneous orgasm, no hands, in an orgone accumulator built in an orange grove in Pharr, Texas. It was the small, direct-application accumulator that did the trick.”
….
Perls concluded that any positive claims for the orgone box were attributable to the placebo effect. “I invariably found a fallacy,” he said of the orgone box users he met, “a suggestibility that could be directed in any way that I wanted.” Reich, Perls thought, had made a major contribution in giving Freud’s notion of resistance a body, but he erred in trying to make a verifiable reality out of the libido. “Now resistances do exist, there is no doubt about it,” Perls explained, “but libido was and is a hypothesized energy, invented by Freud himself to explain his model of man.” He thought Reich had hypnotized himself and his patients into the belief of the existence of the orgone as the physical and visible equivalent of libido.
Perls found that users of orgone boxes usually exhibited some paranoid symptoms. “Then I had another look at the armor theory,” Perls went on, “and I realized that the idea of the armor itself was a paranoid form. It supposes an attack from, and defense against, the environment.” Perls criticized vegetotherapy for encouraging the formation of paranoid features by encouraging the patient to “externalize, disown, and project material that could be assimilated and become part of the self.” Orgone energy, Perls concluded from his investigations into the orgone box, was “an invention of Reich’s fantasy which by then had gone astray.” The realization that the Reich he had met in New York was different from the one he had known in Europe, and that orgone mysticism was at the crackpot end of science, was tinged with melancholy. “The enfant terrible of the Vienna Institute turned out to be a genius,” Perls wrote in his autobiography, “only to eclipse himself as a ‘mad scientist.’”
In his own elaboration of character analysis, which he called Gestalt therapy, Perls turned the idea of armor around: where Reich had come to see character armor as a defense against a hostile external world, Perls saw that same layer of self as a shield for one’s own true drives - a straitjacket designed to safeguard against explosions of excitement from within. Thus, it wasn’t a shell to be crushed but something integral, to be owned. (Laura Perls said they tried to convince Rosenfeld to give up his box, that he could increase his physical vitality and mental agility “entirely on his own, without external devices.”) He wanted his patients to be aware of their bodies, to feel the present vividly in the “here and now,” to be “authentic,” to act on their desires.
Perls got his patients to act out their feelings so that they could assimilate and take responsibility for them. He had originally wanted to be a theater director - he’d been a student of Max Reinhardt’s when he was growing up in Berlin, and he’d become closely associated with the avant-garde Living Theatre troupe in New York. Julian Beck, a founder of the Living Theatre, explained to Perls’s biographer, Martin Shepard, of Gestalt therapy, “[Perls] had something in mind that was halfway between the kind of performance we were doing [direct spectacle, aimed at challenging the moral complacency of the audience] and therapeutic sessions.”
“You are my client,” Perls told one female patient. “I care for you like an artist, I bring something out that is hidden in you.” He described therapy as if it were a magic trick; the rabbit he claimed to pull out of the hat was a person shorn of the “neurosis of normalcy” and all the bourgeois niceties associated with it. This person, he hypothesized, was confident enough to be selfish, to act on rather than repress all her desires, whatever the social consequences. All the energy that others wasted on repression and concealment, Perls thought, should be available for creative self-expression. Another of Perls’s patients recalled, “Fritz loved some types - open bastard-bitch - open defenses, that type. He didn’t like anyone who would placate him or be too good to him or used good-girl or good-boy defenses - that drove him up the wall.”

Perls’s views ,and some of his methods, were much indebted to those pioneered by Reich in the thirties: Perls would habitually accuse his patients of being “phony” and was deliberately aggressive, much as Reich had been with him. Yet, his observations about the paranoid deviations in Reich’s terminology and thinking were painfully perceptive, precisely because he had built on those very ideas.
In 1951, Perls, Paul Goodman, and a Columbia professor of psychology named Ralph Hefferline published Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in the Human Personality. Rewritten by Goodman, and bearing all the hallmarks of Goodman’s exasperating style, the book blends Reich’s ideas about energy blocks and flows with Sartre’s cafe philosophy to create an American brand of existentialism turned therapy. The authors intended their self-help book to provide the reader with the tools for revolution: “In recommending [these experiments] to you,” they warned of their mass-market therapy, “we commit an aggressive act aimed at your present status quo and whatever complacency it affords.” They promised immediate liberation, without the hard grind of political struggle; all you had to do was unleash your “authentic” self.
The “excitement” to which the subtitle of the book refers is a generalized libido, an elan vital that is seeking various outlets, not all of them sexual. Life, for Perls, was a series of “unfinished” or “undigested” situation, frustrations that were all waiting their turn for satisfactory closure. “After the available excitement has been fully transformed and experienced, then we have good closure, satisfaction, temporary peace and nirvana,” Perls summarized his position. “A [mere] discharge will barely bring about the feeling of exhaustion and being spent.”
It sounded very like the Reichian orgasm. But for Perls, excitement was no longer exclusively genital, as it was for Reich, and this shift only served to open up numerous other slipways to pleasure. In Reich’s view, the libido theory was an inviolable article of faith. In broadening its range to celebrate oral and anal pleasures, Perls heralded a polymorphously perverse and heretical vision - one that, ironically, would prove particularly amenable to exploitation under capitalism.
In 1952, Perls, his wife, Goodman, Isidore From, Elliott Shapiro, and two others founded the New York Institute for Gestalt Therapy, headquartered in the Perleses’ apartment and with treatment rooms at 315 Central Park West. The seven founding members met on a weekly basis for group therapy. There was no bureaucratic hierarchy and everyone, including Perls, was subject to the honest criticism that was seen as the key to self-discovery. It was a very public form of character analysis: members of the group would draw one another’s attention to every repression or hang-up, none of which was to be tolerated.
Elliot Shapiro, an ex-boxer and the head of a psychiatric school attached to Kings County Hospital in Brooklyn, brought a friend to one session; Shapiro’s friend said he “had never witnessed the aggressive and profound battling that went on in those groups. Nobody, virtually nobody, was safe at any time.” Shapiro recalled, “We hammered at each other, and hammered, and hammered - every week. And it was the most vigorous hammering you can image….If you could live through these groups and take the corrections, the insults, the remarks…” Not all the participants had sufficiently thick skins to take such brutal candor. The psychotherapist Jim Simkin left the group because he felt that everyone was “loading elephant shit on him,” as did Ralph Hefferline, a coauthor of Gestalt Therapy.
To promote this new school, Perls traveled from city to city, introducing an audience of psychiatrists, social workers, and other interested parties to his “here and now” philosophy. He taught groups in Cleveland, Detroit, Toronto, and Miami how to be sensitive to their bodily needs and to follow their impulses, to be honest and unalienated. He’d be sharp and confrontational as he pushed his awareness techniques on the participants: What are you doing now? What are you experiencing? What are you feeling? Isadore From, who was part of the original New York group, remembers that these occasions were often very dramatic, with “a lot of shaking, trembling, anxiety” - effects that he thought were the result of the audiences’ hyperventilating under the strain of Perls’s relentless goading and questioning.
The New York Institute of Gestalt Therapy also ran public seminars, including one by Goodman, “The Psychology of Sex” (“What you can’t do, teach,” he said with a laugh). Following Reich, it was thought that neurosis could be treated by exposure to sexual pleasure. Goodman made this his area of expertise and people with sexual problems were often referred to him. One was a man who was worried about the quality of his orgasms after prostate surgery. Another thought he might be homosexual; the bisexual Goodman got his penis out and demanded that the patient touch it to help him make a diagnosis. In so doing he was no doubt influenced by Hitschmann, the Viennese analyst who once asked Perls, then tormented by sexual inadequacy, to show him his penis .
In one of Goodman’s group sessions, when someone complained of the lack of sexual companionship, Goodman went around the circle and set up a week’s worth of dates. “See, that wasn’t so difficult,” he reassured her. He was not beyond offering his own neurosis-busting services to patients of either sex, and once agreed to accompany a patient who invited him on an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe. He joked about setting up a College of Sex so as to put his vast experience to educational use. “I’m a sociopath,” he wanted a potential client. In a diary entry written in 1957, Goodman looked back on the previous decade and concluded that he’s made a “false cultus-religion (an obsession)” of sex: “The sexual act itself had just about the meaning of a ritual communion sacrifice.”

does anyone know the roots of the problems and the solutions 🥺 im tryna buy a 86 but dont want the engine blowing up so im lookin for tips
btw is this a problem for the 2024 gr86? cant find it on the internet

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{Sorry for the late post. I had some trouble with my scheduled summer semester pop up so I wasn't able to write this out as much as I wanted last weekend. Anyways, enjoy the domestic fluff of Damian and his newly expanded flock :) }
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-----Damian-----
"The next one's simple. Say their name then (sit). Like this: Braxton, (sit)." As Damian said the command he raised his hand to around shoulder height and snapped. The Great Dane in question slowly sat with his usual amount of sass. Ree cooed in awe and Scales' eyes sparkled. Damian smiled as he pats the large dog's head with praise.
"(Good boy). Ok, you two. Your turns. Make sure to say the commands in English. I haven't taught them Common yet." He motioned to the dogs Damian picked for the two to learn the commands with. It took Damian a bit of trial and error figuring out what commands each dog knew and what ones had different commands for the same motion. Then it took even longer to retrain them to all follow the same commands. He kept in mind the 'specialized' commands for a few of the dogs and didn't try teaching them to the whole group. Ree tried the command he was teaching them first, his dog being Diesel.
"Trii-cheiu, (sit)." Ree raised his wing-arm, though he couldn’t snap he still did the gesture. The boxer he was talking to blankly tilted his head. Damian chuckled and helped out the bird, knowing they all tend to have problems pronouncing new words without a chirp to them.
"You pronounced his name wrong, he doesn't know you're talking to him. It's more like 'Dee-sell'. The 's' is sharp enough it is almost pronounced as a 'z'." Ree practiced a few times as Scales took her try. She pronounced her dog's name a bit slow, but it was recognizable.
"D-ing-oh, (sit)." The stocky dog hesitated, glancing at Damian for a few seconds, but eventually plopped down then panted in a smile imitation. Scales' tail wagged violently, and she wordlessly cooed and trilled happily. Dingo didn't yet understand that was praise so Damian jumped in really quick to let her know she did good.
"Good girl, Dingo! Good girl!" He made sure to over exaggerate his excitement and made wide happy gestures before smothering the dog in pets and scratches. Dingo goes wild. She jumps up, bounces around a few times, then bolts into excited zoomies. A few of the other dogs joined in on the zoomies. Ree tried again on his command.
"Dee-zell, (sit)." The boxer's cropped ears perked and he promptly sat. Before Damian could, Ree copied his bigwing's previous praising and flared his wings. "Good! Good boy!" He praised, overly happy. Diesel's whole body perked up and he jumped up, landed in a playbow, then spun a few times before joining in on the zoomies with a butt-tuck run when Damian smooched at him. Damian laughed at the zooming dogs and shuffled over to be closer to his chicks, just in case the dogs tried to do fly-bys.
"Good job, you two. We're almost completely through the basic commands. I didn't think we'd get through them this quickly." His chicks cooed, trilled, and wiggled happily at the praise. Damian chuckled and rubbed their feathered heads, making a few bits of baby-fluff fall off as he drew back. He played with the few bits stuck to his fingers and watched his chicks play with the dogs as they started to wrestle. All of the dogs were bigger than them, if only slightly, but they were gentle when letting the chicks join in.
As they played he looked over them. They had changed a lot in the last month or so since the disaster of their first flying lesson. In that time, they had a few more lessons and were almost completely capable of flight, they still had a bit of supervision when they did though. They had lost almost all of their baby-fluff and their adult plumage was sported on the vast majority of their bodies. They still had to shed the last bits of fluff and a few of their baby-scales but that wouldn't take much longer. Damian was still taken with their coloring and patterns. And often found himself studying them over and over like he used to with their parents when he first got here.
Ree was a slightly grey-tinted shade of green with his scales slowly getting darker the higher they went. His stomach was a dirt brown color with a more red-ish clay spot on his chest. All his plumage was a light orage-ish brown color and he had speckles of more pastel green under his right eye and in a clump on his left jaw. His beak took the coloring of Blueberry's, a near-black color, but had the shape of Ruby's. His ears took after Violet's, long and pointed like a stretched fox's. His feathers and fur were more pressed down and made him look slimmer overall. His eyes changed from their baby brown-gold color to a beautiful sky blue.
Scales, on the other hand, had the coloring more towards a bumble bee (from what he remembered anyways). Her main coloring was a bright sunshine yellow that slowly grew more towards orange towards her underbelly and beak. On her chest was a splash-like clump of pink feathers. Her scales were less than her brother's and were a deep brown-ish color. The feathers and fur edging them were a deep enough brown to basically be black. Her plumage reminded him somewhat of Ruby and Sky's. It had a gradual fade towards the end like Sky but the pink-ish color of Ruby. She had near-neon yellow speckles too, like her brother, but the clumps were a bit larger. She had them ending on her wing-forearms like Violet's and a big clump scattered around the left side of her face. Her feathers weren't quite as fluffy as Sky's but was pretty close. Her beak had the shape of Violet's and the near-white tan color of Ruby's. Her eyes had a beautiful dual color in each eye. The top majority was a hot pink/magenta color while the bottom and inside edge was more of a petal/pastel pink.
Both were gorgeous and made Damian wonder how the genetics of their species worked to allow that vast difference in coloration and patterns when compared to all four of their parents, who tended to be different shades of the same color throughout. Ree had finally slowed his quite concerning growth rate and was starting to level out around Damian's upper thigh/lower hip, exceeding the taller of his fathers by quite the margin. All four of his parents telling him that Ree was probably one of the largest of their species in multiple generations. Scales was now barely a third of her brother's size, if that, having evened out just barely shorter than Damian's knee. Apparently that was a bit shorter than average for the species with Ruby being more towards the upper part of the average size and Sky being borderline short.
A demanding snort drew his attention away from his chicks and to the window he claimed as 'his spot' so long ago (was it really only just over one of his years since he was brought here?). There he found Casper lazily curled and dozing on the floor with Ares propped up against her where Damian had set him to nap while he taught his chicks. Said child was no longer asleep though. He was very much awake and staring Damian down with an expression demanding to know why he thought it was a good idea to even dare to set him down and walk away. Nevermind Damian wasn't even ten steps away. Ares snorted demandingly at him again and glared harder at the human's amused snort back. Damian did walk over though and picked up the child when he raised his arms at him. Ares had changed a bit too over the month Damian had him. He'd filled out to a more healthy-looking weight, though he was still a bit thin, and Damian had finally managed to memorize how to properly trim the toddler's hooves and brush out his fur.
Ares still had the bird-like plush and brought it nearly everywhere with him. Said plush was now being whacked into the side of Damian's head. Apparently, Ares decided being held wasn't good enough and wanted something else. Damian tried blocking the hits or holding the toy, but the little brat only started using his hooves in his growing tantrum. Getting tired of being hit with no explanation, Damian took the advice of one of the texts he'd read about taking care of a Grongri child and yanked Ares away from him by his scruff to hang in mid-air. The toddler wiggled and squirmed to try and hit him more but eventually the tantrum dimmed, and he went limp, a small pout on his face.
"You ready to tell me what's wrong now?" He asked the child before he cradled him again. He'd only made that mistake once. He still had the bruises to prove it. Ares glumly flicked his right ear down (which he's learned is a non-verbal yes), pout still present. Damian finally cradled the toddler to his chest again and let him sniffle and bury against him in self-comfort until he was ready to talk. Damian glanced back at his chicks to see them flopped on the ground with the other dogs, all panting and exhausted by the play. Damian chuckled at them, earning an irritated crow from Scales. Damian snorted in amusement but let them be. Ares was finally willing to tell him what was wrong.
"Want learn too." Ares' understanding of both Common and English has come a long way in the past month. He still can't string a proper sentence together, but Damian can't tell if that is because of a lack of knowledge or just because he's a toddler. He has adjusted to the flock a bit too. With it being so different from the usual Grongri Sounder structure it is understandable. He does have a few hiccups here and there but now he mostly just watches the chicks' reaction to things when he is unsure.
"'Learn too'? You wanna learn how to command the dogs too?" Damian questions, making sure he had the same idea. Ares' ear flicked again while he nodded. Damian hugged him a bit closer.
"You're a bit too small for the dogs to obey you immediately but I can introduce one to you and have you start trying. How about that? Will that work?" Ares was quiet for a bit longer but eventually agreed. Damian smiled and praised him with a few pets, receiving a few happy rumbles in response. Damian glanced around at the dogs, trying to pick one for Ares to start working on. He doesn't think any would follow the commands without his own help but if he worked on one long enough it would eventually cave. His eye landed on Casper, who was still in the same curled position as before. She was the most maternal of the group and was the one who took to the children the easiest and quickest.
"Ok, little piglet. Let's start easy." He said as he set the runt down on his hooves. As he did he got Casper's attention and called to her. "Casper. (Stand)." The large white wolfdog looked at him then crawled to her paws. He praised her softly then turned back to Ares.
"Ok. We'll start with (come). Say her name, Casper, and tell her to (come)." He said as he sat down next to where the toddler stood. Ares' little hooves stomped a bit in his excitement, but he tried. He tested out the new word before he did. What he settled on wasn't the right pronunciation, but it was close. He could mostly pronounce the command correctly too, though with a pretty heavy accent.
"Gas-prrrr. (Come)." Casper tilted her head at the child and sniffed at him. She looked at Damian and he looked to Ares then back. Casper followed and glanced, then back. Ares deflated eventually when she still didn't approach so Damian thought up something quickly.
"Maybe she doesn't understand your accent. Try this," He patted the ground, "when you say it. She knows that gesture." Ares perked back up again.
"Okie!" He turned back to Casper and tried again. "Gas-prrrr." He crouched down and clumsily patted the ground like only a toddler could. "(Come)." Casper's ears perked but she still hesitated for a second before slowly padding over and stopping right in front of the child. Ares squealed in excitement, tail going wild and hooves stomping. Damian made his chuff-imitation as praise for the child as he pets Casper to do the same. Child happier now, he figures he could take the kid away for lunch without protest. Scooping up the toddler he received no complaint.
Looking to his chicks he clicked his tongue. He learned that was a good way to gain their attention with zero hesitation, no matter what they were doing. He found out by complete accident, to be honest. He was clicking at the dogs from a habit that hasn't broken despite the years away from the farm he grew up on. Sure enough, just like every time before, both chick's heads immediately whip up to look at him. Both still looked groggy like they had just woken up. They probably had.
"C'mon, you two. Lunch time." The two groaned but climbed to their feet. Damian smiled and them and patted them as they passed. Once they were well on their way, he called the dogs and gathered them as he left behind his chicks. The dogs happily trailed after, excited after they heard the word 'hungry' when he asked. He entered the flock's kitchen, pack in tow, only a handful of minutes later. He had to take a slightly more roundabout way over since some of the dogs hadn’t quite figured out the ladder-like walkways and ramps yet and he didn't want them to fall through and get hurt. His birds greeted him with their usual trills and Untruthful with their latest attempt at teasing.
"So, the Pack Master finally decided to grace us with his presence!" Damian let them know it was a good one by sending a tease back.
"I see you haven't gotten any less spikey yet, walking pincushion." Untruthful's eyes slowly shut in a smile and Damian sent one of his own back, momentarily closing his eyes in an imitation of them. Untruthful looked surprised then they eye-close-smiled harder, spike-crest wiggling their excitement. Damian chuckled at them and set down Ares in his make-shift baby seat.
He chatted with Violet as he grabbed and rationed out the dogs' small lunch. He ignored the protesting whines, grunts, and half-barks urging him to 'go faster already'. Violet advised him to use one type of meat instead of another because of both better nutrients for the dogs and there being more of it. He thanked her and did as told. The dogs' lunch wasn't that big, more of a snack than anything, but it kept them from pouting and begging when everyone else ate. It also had helped him give them meds when they were still healing. They were mostly fine now, apparently Galactic Standard medicine works faster than the stuff he remembers. Finishing with the dogs' food he picks up the bowls, stacking a few to do so, and turns around. He walked past the dogs, chuckling at the excited spins, bounces, and tippy-taps they did as they followed him. He glanced back at them once he made it to the wall the flock had designated as their eating area.
He gave them a stern look and waited. They all eventually sat down, some more slow and reluctant than others. Once they did he placed down the bowls in the designated spots. Braxton and Casper had two stepstool-stand things he placed their bowls on because of how big they were. Once all the bowls were down he turned to look at the dogs. He waited in silence for a bit, snapping or humming warningly whenever one tried to shuffle forward. Once he deemed it long enough he gave the sort-of-command he was on the tail end of teaching them.
"(Ok)." When he said that all five dogs ran over to their bowls and started to eat. Damian strode back over to the counter and helped his birds move some plates to the table then settled cross-legged in his usual spot, Ares immediately crawling into his lap and Scales fluttering to perch on the shoulder opposite the side her brother sat on. The flock started to grab food and eat as they chatted with each other. Damian grabbed a little more than a double portion of fruits, beans (or maybe they were berries?), and a few crunchy finger foods he thinks may be cooked or specially prepared insects. He grabbed roughly more than a single portion (for someone his size anyways) of meats, the few root vegetables presented, and what he thinks may be foods made of bone pieces.
Once his plate was full he placed it down in front of him he reached over to grab a smaller plate and started making that one with tiny portions, letting his three kids have free pickings of his plate as he did. When he finished that plate he sat it in front of mini, receiving a grateful squeak before she dug in. He then propped his arms on the table, completely ignoring both his plate and the children stealing from it as he chattered on with his flock. By the time everyone finished his kids had their fill and were starting to fall asleep like usual after eating.
As his flock started gathering their dishes and the extra food on the table, Damian glanced at what was left of his plate. He made a mental note of how there weren’t as much leftovers as before and to grab bigger portions for dinner. As his flock started to disperse he looked to the dogs and said one of the first new commands he taught them.
"(Pups)." He got their attention. "(Take)." He ordered as he lifted up the half-asleep toddler on his lap. The dogs made whisper-boofs to show they heard and the largest three walked over to pick up the kids by their scruffs. Casper (the biggest, though not my much) grabbed Ree, Braxton grabbed Ares, and Dingo walked over to carefully lift Scales from his shoulder. Once they had a firm grip, they looked to Damian for further instruction.
"(To bed)" He directed as he pointed out the door they came from. The pack turned and left him alone in the room. He sighed to himself once he couldn't hear them anymore and looked back at the leftovers on the plate before him. It was maybe under half a portion for his size, probably less. He glanced at the counters and saw all the leftover food was already put up. He could go grab more but even half a portion for him would be nearly three or four large portions for his flock. No. It wasn’t worth it. He'll just grab more tonight.
He ate the leftovers in silence. Since he's got the dogs his head has been a bit quieter, though not silent. Apparently he was still enough for the building to register the room as empty, and the lights cut out. He blinked and paused at the sudden darkness but there was barely a second of blindness before some of his voices put their hands on his mental controls, giving his eyes a boost of minor night vision. It wasn’t much better than his natural amount of it but it helped. He decided not to go turn on the lights again and continued to eat his food as he peacefully listened to the soft chattering of his voices.

But of context i guess I (14f) and my brother (17m) had a pretty shitty upbringing we had an abusive dad my parents divorced when I we were both too young to really remember my dad was never very violent but he was very emotional abusive I stopped seeing and talking to my dad when I was 7 due to a lot of reasons but that’s a different rant anyway after that my mum dated another abusive man he never really hit me but he did hit/ attack my brother a few times he more emotionally abused me my mum left him in November 2019 and ever since it’s just been us three my brother is very strong he’s only 5’9 but still a good bit taller than me and he’s a boxer me but I can hit a good punch as well we always argued and fought as kids but it was never really that violent kinda more pushing and wrestling anyway I’m not exactly sure when it started but I remember a few times he said some pretty shitty things to me and did some pretty shit things starting from 2020 when I was 10 my mum bought me this little short set it had a cropped hoodie that was black and shorts that were black I wore a black vest underneath and when my brother saw me in it called me a whore when he was 13 (I turned 14 recently and would never imagine saying that to a 10 year old or even thinking that about a 10 year old) and said that all I’m ever gonna be in life is a one time use for some one like Jeffery epstine this hurt me but like whatever he made me full on sob free he repeated called me autistic and “special” for over an hour and saying I was a mistake I’m not exactly sure when the violence started but I remember one time I think I was 11 he wanted the remote and I didn’t give it to him so he punched me in the face took the remote it hurt like fuck so I was crying and he told my mum I was crying because he took the remote and didn’t tell her he punched me I got called dramatic and emotional then whenever we would have a disagreement he started turning violent like basically squaring up to me if we were arguing in the car he would jump over from the front seat while my mum was driving and hit me like full on multiple shots to the face and trust me I’ve had enough punches to know they hurttttt! Like ur face and body is sore for days like multiple days when I came out as bisexual and asked to use she/they he called me a mistake and told me I’d be better off dead he called me a bunch of slurs and different shit and that went on for quite a while he doesn’t care anymore tho whenever we argue or if I do things like make a small mistake he will call me really shitty things say I’d be better dead tell me to kill myself say that he’s gonna kill me his favourite move is to chase me about the house and when I go to my room and push it shut basically push it in and hit me over small disagreements he’s basically reason why I’m insecure about a lot of things because he just basically calls every part of me ugly I think the thing recently is that he’s 17 he’s 18 in December he’s learning how to drive and like he’s too old for this bs like yk and I’m done with it in December we went to Cuba I’m Scottish and Scottish parents tend to be quite loose especially on holiday one night I get a bit too drunk and my mum tells me brother to take me home when I say too drunk I mean I am black out and the whole time we’re walking he’s saying shit to me and all this bs at the time I’m 13 and he’s 17 anyway when we get in I get very angry cause he went out for a smoke and I thought ogiht he had left me completely so very drunk me finds his favourite football shirt gets shampoo and put’s shampoo or body wash all over it I can’t really remember when he comes in he sees this and he goes mental he chases me to my room and hits me and then I’m on the bed and he starts choking me while punching the shit out of me eventually I get him out and I lock the door but he spends the full night outside the door calling me ever single name under the sun yeah I get I shouldn’t of done that but it was only body wash it comes out the next morning I wake up with some pretty nasty bruises and some marks on my neck the worse one was on my leg were he kicked me a couple times and it bruised purple for like 2 weeks the next day he acts like nothing happened like he always does somtimes I wonder if he genuinely doesn’t see a problem with his behaviour a few months later we’re arguing outside about somthing stupid and he shuved me hard I rarely hit him back when he does this shit but I told him “I’m gonna fucking hit you” he gets in my face and says “who the fuck do you think ur speaking to” he turns around I hit him in the r head so hard that his head went forward and his airpod fell out the other side he turns around and hits me 4/5 times in the face and a couple body hits we argue I go back inside he shouts for a bit but we move on today he squared up to me over something small and I told him to fuck off he chases me to my room my mum comes over he sorts it out and I tell her “I’m fucking done with this I’m not gonna live on eggshells because I’m scared of my own brother” and she’s like “I’ll talk to him” this pisses me off I’m like “no you’ve said that for the last three years if you don’t sort him out the next time he hits me or tires to I’m gonna fucking kill him I mean it” she talks to him he starts shouting at her and I’m like this can’t be normal surley but the thing is that when he’s not like this he’s a really good brother so it’s hard to not forgive him I’m so angry right now but in an hour he’ll charm his way into me forgiving him and no matter how hard I try I can’t I actually feel somtimes like he’s an abusive boyfriend that I can’t leave I mean I love my mum and my brother but it’s not like this is enough reason to leave them plus even if it was I have no where to go I have no family that would think what he does is wrong another thing is when my mums talking to me after he pisses me off tryna calm me down he stands behind her smirking trying to piss me off more

Other tier 1 alums, please answer too if you feel the culture might be the same at your college and C. Before I begin I'd like to say sorry for anyone who gets angry reading these super annoying questions, I know I'm in a very privileged position and I'm overthinking things a lot but I cant stop. A lot of you might want to say, "You idiot, you've got this admit, just grow some balls and look forward to the future", and I've said that to myself many times over the past few days but my anxiety keeps getting the better of me, so please, I do apologise, this is in no way a brag post or anything, my thoughts are literally spiraling out of my control.
Gem fresher 9/7/7 1. I read some scary things about placecom culture in general and some posts about IIM C in particular too(quora and that intentionally hidden truth article). Is it still like that at IIMC ? Will I be singled out and humiliated in front of the whole batch because I have poor acads and on top of that 0 extra currics or Cv points ( yes genuinely 0 pts, I'm a very introvert and shy person from a tier 3 city schooling and tier 3 ug). Those conditions, combined with my nature ensured that I never participated in too many things, and didnt win even when I tried. And also, my mental health is already fucked up because of certain issues in my family (those problems arent going away anytime soon) so I dont know if I can handle any more toxicity or placecom abuses as such. How do I deal with that when inside the college, I can handle academic pressure or the lack of sleep as such, its the toxic abuse part that I cant anymore.

1. Following up on my profile again, I've already accepted that I wont get good summer shortlists, people tell me final placements wont be too much affected by that and will depend on my gpa at IIM C, how true is that, and again like I said, I cant do too much extra currics and stuff, so once inside is it better to just give my all in trying to get a good gpa ( rankers level, top 10,20) ? Or should I try to balance gpa and extra curricular activities and if so, how do I like bring about this change in my nature and participate more in these activities. I know its hard to relate to this question for extroverts/ normal people, but if any of your introvert friends inside IIMs have managed it, do let me know how they did it.
   
2. Again, stupid question, but is there a basic packing list, like I've read to carry 2 sets of formals, what else do people take generally, weird question but what kind of clothes do people wear in hostels because in my ug hostel half the people used to roam around in underwears and boxers. Obviously that wont be the case at IIMs but like then do people wear comfy clothers like pyjamas and t shirts or is it super professional pants and shirts even at hostels/library .
   
3. Lately I've been exploring these unstop competition, for ex nestle genesis and I couldnt even qualify round 1, and I saw future rounds require submitting your own ideas as a 2 minute pitch. Like is everybody that talented in these B schools that they have their own ideas about these multinational companies. I feel like a total idiot in front of these people. Most linkedin profile of others who have made it to C has IIT in it or has some 2-3 yeara of workex in it from a top company. As a fresher with gap year how the heck do I even compete or sit in the same classroom as these guys.
   
4. Should I do some coursera courses or stuff to gain CV pts ? Generally people have told me coursera courses dont matter too much specially in tier 1 b schools. So what else can I do to make my whole shitty profile even a little better in these 20 odd days. Plus how the heck will I earn cv pts even when I'm inside if I cant even clear round 1 of that comp and have 0 idea about how case comps and these things work.
   
5. Reporting dates are 8-9 June, should I go earlier to avoid rush (400 people reporting on same 2 days). Do people take their parents with them for these first few days, is it even allowed (what stupid fucking questions am I even asking, I know, I'm sorry but its eating me up)
   

• trigger warning self harm & suicidal ideation
  
• I was 18 out of my home state and was at a pervious facility (a rehab for mental health as well) in tennessee before being admitted by the staff at the previous facility showing very obvious signs of sh and suicidal ideation.
  
• when I was being strip searched a staff member commented when she saw my boxers (i was born female but identify as nonbinary) and said "do you have a gender identity problem or something" like seriously?? you think staff would keep in mind the mental issues patients are going through before saying anything like that.
  

there was a homophobic middle aged white lady there rude as hell and masking it by saying stuff like "I'm just honest and if you don't like that that's your problem". She got on a tangent about homosexuality and how she still loves you if you are gay but she doesn't approve or believe in it in a really demeaning tone she said more than that but i don't remember as it has been a year since. why would she be stating her opinions on homosexuality in a mental hospital?? obviously me and a few other people reported what she was saying and the next day she came in she got mad at everyone and said whoever wrote that report i did nothing wrong i'm just being honest. I also had another weird experience with her when I got moved to a different wing. We were in a group watching cartoon movies (all movies had to be pg13 and lower) and you know having a good time and what not after the movie finished we had another cartoon movie in mind that we all wanted to watch we told her we wanted to watch the movie and she put on a totally different non-cartoon movie that none of us wanted to watch. when we expressed that we want to watch the cartoon movie she got all mad and raised her voice a little saying "I don't want to watch a cartoon movie ya'll already watched one what's wrong with this movie" and when we told her we had no interest in watching what she put on the tv we wanted to watch what we all already agreed on she got aggressive like "I have to sit here and watch this movie too ya'll already watched one I'm the staff what I say goes" like are you serious YOU HAVE UR PHONE UR ALWAYS ON??it's just irritating i hope she gets fired i can tell she causes so many problems with patients just based on that alone.

• when i got moved to the wing where most ppl are dealing with sh and si it was very intense and triggering and chaotic it caused me to sh more and more. my bed was placed outside so they could keep an eye on me so i wouldn't sh. There were so many ppl hurting themselves around me and on top of already wanting to sh it triggered me really badly. I ended up self harming and all they do after that is take you in a secluded room keep you locked in the room and if you keep "acting up" they restrain you and give you a shot to calm you down and you have to STAY THERE restrained for 4 hours straight it's literally in their rule book. the staff also talk to you like you are incompetent and you're stupid (excluding a few of the good staff members there are many i drew pictures for and thanked them for their kindness opposed to others I hate that I can't remember anyone's names bc i definitely want to acknowledge them).

-This is my BIGGEST complaint which ended up in more mental distress and suffering when I kept having to get restrained my girlfriend knew and kept calling the front to check on me, make sure i'm okay, calm me down etc and the staff knows my girlfriend is the only person that gives me any type of relief away from the place i'm in and my mental. She kept calling and they were continuously hanging up on her not even telling me she was calling and when they did they made a joke out of it and I clearly needed to talk to her they ended up handing me the phone one time out of all the times she's done that. the only time that was good was when she kept calling and it was cool down time (everyone can go to their beds and chill) the nurse brought me a note that she told him to give to me and it helped a lot i tooked at that note like 24/7 when it wasn't call time wishing i could talk to her. They proceeded to tell my mother that my girlfriend is a "stalker" just bc she keeps calling so much. How fucked it that, she kept calling obviously because she was worried about me and knew what i was going through and knew I needed her voice and her words to calm me. I don't know what else was said to my mother about my girlfriend but my mom is already homophobic it's messed up that the staff said that out of line stuff when they don't even know her or the depth of our relationship. It caused real issues with me and my mom when i got out she called me and told me she was worried bc they told her she is a stalker i got soooo mad and explained that i was going through it and she was very worried and knew that she can calm me down and help me etc and she continued to look at my girlfriend as a stalker from then out. i really wish I could sue TrustPoint for this.

Tldr - 12 yr old, active dog had leg surgery requiring bed rest for 14 days, and she's very bored. How to help her cope? We've got ice, treats, and trying to think of games that don't involve her standing.
Full story: My dog is 12 years 2 months old, 83 lbs, boxer mix, short hair. She's always been high energy and active. As recently as last week we were walking 30-45 minutes at least once a day and she has no problem with stamina.
For several months she's had a lipoma growing in a rear leg. The vet and I have been watching it, and it has been causing her to limp and bunny hop up steps so we decided it should be removed. Her blood work was all very good. She has no other health problems.
Surgery was 2 days ago. The incision is on the trailing edge of the haunch/thigh. We cleaned her crate and moved it to the first floor of our house (it's normally on a second floor, she's crate trained and sleeps there of her own volition sometimes but she usually prefers the living room couch). It's in a cozy spot she likes.
The vet's recovery instructions are: Do not encourage play for 14 days. Slow leash walks only to toilet for 14 days. Then stretch walks by 5 minutes every 3 days till walks are 20 minutes long. Then resume normal activity.
Part of why this is so restrictive is the vet didn't put drains in - they had planned to beforehand but didn't feel comfortable during the procedure because of where the arteries were relative to the incision. The restrictive rest is in hope of reducing irritation and swelling there and needing to bring her back to the office to drain fluid.
At discharge the nurse suggested she be mostly in her crate for the first 14 days. We were given gabapentin and carprofen.
This worked for the first 36 hours, but even on the gabapentin she is obviously bored and wants out of the crate. We are going to the back yard briefly a few times a day (on leash, no play, just to toilet), I'm sitting beside her in the crate with door open, petting and giving treats for simple commands like laying her head down and shaking, I'm feeding her food and water, but with work and kids my time to spend with her is limited. We are keeping a bowl of ice in the crate too, she seems to like this. Also, peanut butter kongs.
2 big questions:
What else could we try as far as activity/entertainment? Her normal happy place/outlet is a long walk. We have a couple food puzzles, and I plan to try them however she's never been much of a fan of them before.
How can we judge her recovery, as far as when she should be allowed more freedom? For example, after 4 days can she sit with us on the couch instead of in her crate? What about laying down outside? Etc?
Cheers

TLDR: Roommate has 2 dogs with low quality of life. One sits in a kennel and gets no mental stimulation and the other is old and pees in the house on pee pads that my roommate lets sit for days.
My roommate and I have been living together for over a year now and between us we have 3 dogs: she has 2 and I have 1. She had been living with her parents before we moved in together and had always complained how her parents had set back her youngest dog's, M, training and how her oldest dog, D, was often yelled at by her family which caused D a lot of stress because of past abuse. We moved in together and she claimed she was going to start training with her dogs right away, but she didn't. She blamed her adhd and that after work she was really tired and didn't feel like training but she was said she was still committed to making an effort. She lets her dog D pee in the house on a pee pad which my roommate lets sit for 3 days at a time. Any time I throw the pee pad away she gets upset and tells me they cost a lot, but they start to smell really bad and anytime they're on the ground I feel like my house is unclean and I don't want to spend time in it. D is fairly old (we believe she's around 8 but she's from the pound so we don't officially know) and anytime I try to bring up training for D my roommate just says she's old and that it's probably to late to train her. We've also received many noise complaints from neighbors because D constantly barks and I'm worried that they might evict us because of her.
Her other dog, M, is a 2 year old Cairn Terrier. I feel terrible for this dog because she isn't getting the life she deserves with my roommate. My roommate has been dating this guy for about 2 months now and she spends almost all her time over at his house. Early in the year I told my roommate her dogs aren't my responsibility and that I don't want to take care of them because they are untrained and she said ok. When she goes to stay with her boyfriend she takes them to her parents house (same parents mentioned before). The parents let the dogs run around the entire time they're there which would be fine but they have have big boxer (no hate on the breed) that doesn't leave M alone. It has gotten to the point where the boxer will grab M by the neck and drag her around and M plays dead while she is dragged around. No one sees a problem with this, not even my roommate. Then, on the off days my roommate is home, she puts M in a kennel or puts her outside on a long line and walks away to do something else. My roommate is constantly complaining about how M is annoying and that she's so difficult to train, but anytime I work with M she's great and listens. The issue with that is that I have my own high energy dog that I have to take care of and I'm out of the house for a lot of the day. I've made a deal with a neighbor and she'll let out my dog throughout the day but my neighbor has said that she won't touch my roommates dogs because they're untrained and because D has attacked both of her dogs (which my roommate just laughed about). I barely have time for my own dog and although it hurts me, I have no time for M so she just sits in her kennel.
I know my roommate will most likely move out in a year because we are no longer friends (another story for another time) but we're still stuck with each other for the time being and I can't keep living in a house with these dogs. I think she should rehome M to someone that can give her the mental stimulation and love that she needs but I also know that if they're not at my home, my roommate is just going to have them at her parents where they're life is still going to be shitty. Anytime I try to bring it up to my roommate she just gets defensive and says "she'll never be a perfect dog mom" and that she's "trying her best" but if this is her best she shouldn't have animals. As a dog owner myself it would be devastating to rehome my dog and I've tried to work with my roommate on trying to be better with her dogs but she puts very little effort into them and I think it's unfair to them.

I shaved one of my upper legs for the first time last night, and I can already feel the microhairs pulling on my pants and underwear (I am not yet on hormones). I don't seem to have this problem with my lower legs (at least not nearly to this degree), and it's really uncomfortable and a bit painful. My current bottomwear is regular men's boxers and pyjama pants (I can't find the tag on the pants and I can't read the tag on the underwear, but they're both Hanes if that's anything to go off of), and I wanna know if anyone has any suggestions for dealing with this. Could be materials, brands, heck even lotions or something.

This is the start of my 10th day out, after 5 years in ODRC. My situation right now is better than a lot of guys who just got out. My dad's still here and he lent me money to get a PC and phone. When I got locked up I was selling things online, and he also managed to get into the place I had and saved my clothing and the things I sell. The basement in this place was full of totes of merchandise, all I need to do is sort it all out and start selling. But I haven't been able to.
It's great that he saved that stuff. It's a job without needing to deal with all the stigma of applying to work for a company right after release. I have like 30 shirts now and maybe a 15 pair of pants and shorts and boxers and all of that. I'm lucky as hell for it and I know that. But it's like I can't deal with it. The stuff is all tossed together and will take days to sort. It's rocks. Some natural rough, some tumbled, some facetable rough. The labels I had on them are gone, so there are several I noticed that I don't even remember what they are. He also saved 6 of the Husky steel rack shelving units I had them on, which is enough to hold about half of them.
I got the racks all put together with no problem. They've been in basements and dirty garages for years and were covered in mouse poop and caked on shit, but cleaning them and getting them put together was easy. I felt motivated to do it. But then I started to mess with the actual rocks and just ended up tossing containers onto shelves mostly blindly to get them off the floor. I've tried to go down and sort them 3 times now, but within 5 minutes I have to walk away and that's it for the day.
I was just starting my own business right before I got locked up. I was 9 months in and working pretty much constantly, working with those rocks pretty much was my entire life right before my arrest. It's like I have some very strong aversion to it now. When I try to work with them or even think about sorting them it's like a huge surge of stress and maybe terror but it also feels kind of like emptiness... like being locked up might have been constant terror on some level but I kept it pushed down so now that's just sort of what feels like emptiness now.
Does that make sense to anyone? I don't want people here to think I'm being lazy and avoiding working and I want to bring money in to help out so much, but it's like something's broken or disconnected inside about it and I just can't handle jumping right back into what I was doing right before getting locked up yet. Has anyone else gone through that? How long did it take to deal with?
In the 9 days I've been out I have met with my PO (finally, two days ago) and got approved for food assistance and bought groceries (yesterday). The week before that my mom was in the hospital and the day after she went in my dad woke me up yelling for help because he threw his back out and had to go to the bathroom. When I went into his bedroom there were a dozen piles of bloody puppy shit from his dog. My dad's back was so bad it took me 30 minutes to get him from the bed into a kitchen chair I brought up and put right beside it. He couldn't make it to the bathroom so I brought him an empty coffee container to piss in. He hurt bad enough to do it and was probably embarrassed by it, but to me that was pretty normal. Everyone has a piss jug, right?
Then I cleaned up all the puppy shit and scrubbed the rug and hand washed his sheets since it was on them. Didn't have a license to go to the laundromat so I had to wait 2 days until he felt better enough to drive me so I could get all the laundry washed. During all that my mom was in a hospital only like 6 blocks from my dad's place. They're separated but I walked up to visit with my mom and make sure she was alright twice a day, and cooked and did dishes for my dad since he couldn't those days. And I've only managed to sleep 5 hours maybe 3 times, the rest of it it's waking up after an hour or two and unable to get back to bed. And there's no shower here, just a tub. I've only managed to get in once. Idk what's with it. Maybe just the difference in how exposed and vulnerable you'd be in a tub vs a nice safe little shower where someone can only come from one place. I know no one's going to come in, but... fuck. I don't know.
Yesterday was supposed to be my first big day sorting the rocks and getting ready to take pictures and post online, but I went down to do it and it immediately felt wrong and within a few minutes I just sort of broke. Like it's hard to look at them and think about them. For 5 years I was broke in prison and thinking about them stressed me out because I couldn't do anything about them and no one on the outside knew anything about them to sell some and get me some money. Thinking about them was just a ton of stress, so I made myself not think about them at all. I avoided the thought to avoid the stress. Now I'm out and I can actually finally do something about them and turn them into money... but even though I want to do that I still can't think about them. That seems crazy.
Now it's 5am and I've been up since 3. I actually slept from 8pm-3am. It's the most sleep I've gotten. I know I really need to go down to the basement and get some work done today so I can start bringing in money, but I'm afraid I'll go down there and just sort of stun up inside again.
Just needed to get that out.