Halloween senses poem

I don't have specific knowledge of my past lives, but I have always felt like a very old soul. I was writing about nostalgia in my diary when I was 12, which is wild to me now. I wrote this poem when I was 14 called "Don't You Remember?" about longing for a specific, beautiful place I've been imagining since I was very young. And of all the content in the Narnia books, I was most obsessed with "the wood between the worlds" as described in The Magician's Nephew, the liminal in-between place from which you can leap into other dimensions. I've always loved the liminal.
I also have a few first-person memories that I was technically too young to have, including a memory of being in my crib and biting the wooden rails of the crib--I remember what they taste like! I remember saying my first word (light!) and seeing myself from a top-down perspective. I always thought this memory came from a video recording, but I digitized all of my family's old home movies a few years back and this memory wasn't on any of the tapes.
I do have the sense that I tend to choose lives that are extra challenging in various ways and possibly bite off more than I can really chew. It does give me a sense of agency to conceptualize having chosen to deal with the particular struggles of this body, this brain, this family, this era of history. I chose all of it for a reason, and I'm determined to learn the lessons that I came here to learn.
Curious to hear experiences from others who have always felt like old souls. :)

Fruzsina spent the next few days at her lake house, once she had been dropped off by her great uncle Denzo. She found after a good night’s sleep, she was able to get around more easily, but took it slow.
Her crash with Fazekas became front page news, but her encounter with Csilla thankfully not. Various people in her life sent her well wishes. Even others who merely knew of her sent things.
What came from each of her three “suitors,” she paid the most attention to.
The first was a poem, in an eastern form, written by Count Fazekas.
Underneath moonlight
Our Souls embrace, longing for
Love’s sweet melody
With it, came a bottle of Tokaji Aszú, which she had noted as her favourite, and a note:
I hope this finds you well. It’s unfortunate our crash has become front page news, but what matters is that you’re ok. I also hope what happened doesn’t dissuade you from seeing me again. I quite enjoyed your company at the party and I hope you felt the same way. Thinking of you that night, this poem came to me, I hope you like it, it’s just for you.
He signed it just Fazekas.
Fruzsina read the little haiku over and over again. It wasn’t just the typical love poem of his, it was about that very night, which made it extra special.
The second she didn’t know who it was from right away.
There was a bouquet of dried wildflowers, almost as gorgeous as they would have a been fresh no doubt, but it was February, so it would have been the best could get.
It came with a little ornamental box, carved, sanded and decorated by hand, as if by a master craftsman. Fruzsina peeked inside.
Inside there was a little wooden bird, which she took out into the light. It was intricately whittled and carved into that shape. It was painted yellow with black and white wings and feather tips. The base it was labeled a Hoopoe. The longer she looked at it, the more impressive it became. She’d put it on her window sill perhaps.
Underneath was a folded up letter.
Princess Fruzsina,
When I heard of your accident I had to write to you immediately. Know you are in my thoughts and prayers for a quick recovery. I made the box some time ago, I figured you could make use of it for your jewelry. The hoopoe however I made special for you. It’s very beautiful, flamboyant, just like you. The flowers I picked by my cabin. They’re supposed to bring you luck, in my culture at least. I still owe you that dance, as soon as you’re on your feet. I look forward to seeing you again, until then, stay safe and God bless you.
It was signed Rurik.
Rurik? she thought. Rurik always strike her as a gruff man, masculine in the purest sense, such delicate craftsmanship and preparation of flowers didn’t seem like something possible from him, but it seemed there was more to the prince than she thought.
The third was hardly as lofty as the other two.
It was an envelope, inside was a simple note, giving the address of The Velvet Club.
No doubt it was from Csilla, from the lipstick smear on the one corner.
She could get a hold of all three of them in one way or another.
[Once she was back on her feet, who does she reach out to first?]

1) Chaos Comics Halloween issues 1-3
2) Halloween: 30 Years of Terror
3) Halloween: Sam, Halloween: White Ghost, Halloween: Charlie & Halloween: Visiting Hours.
4) Halloween: Night Dance issues 1-4
5) Halloween: The 1st Death of Laurie Strode issues 1-3 (or 4)

People complain,
The squirrels are dumb!
How they cross the road!
But they haven't known the dumbest creature,
Is surely, me.
My common sense, hammers me in the head,
Telling me what my priorities are, instead,
And I have become distracted.
And I answer you,
On this app,
When it is supposed to be, my ONE outlet.
And you're never supposed to know,
Or comment on it. .
But you engage with me,
Though I admit,
You have made me traumatized by social media,
So I guess you,
.....win....,
You have taught me to write in my journal,
And I certainly will,
Till I start making sense.
It takes so much work,
When I cry over four pages front and back,
And then chop that poem apart,
Comments in the margins,
Crossed out words,
And phrases, in different languages.
Just to get one half of a page of worthy poetry,
And then I take a nap,
And cry over what I have just written,
Now finding cartoons again,
To achieve laughter,
Endorphins.
Can my choices or my life,
Move any slower?
I really care about living.

Chapter 9: Knowing
—
Suggested Listening:
Nicholas Brittel Agape
Required Listening ⭐️ Kwabs Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
⭐️ Raye Vela Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
—
“Is your heart doing okay?” I asked.
“Yes. It is fine. I am tired, but alright.”
“Good,” I said. “I was wondering. Can you tell me another poem? And then we can go to sleep.”
Sasha looked at me. “About what?” he said, smoke drifting into my face.
“I don’t know. Tell me one about someone you love.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Let’s see.”
He pondered this, then an expression I can only describe as conflicted crept across his face.
“What?” I asked.
“There are few I love so dearly as this person.”
My eyes widened. “Who is it?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. Then he frowned. At first a little, then deeply.
“What?” I asked gently.
Sasha shook his head. I saw pain now in his expression.
“You don’t have to,” I said, my own brow furrowing. “Please don’t. I can pick something else. Or, actually, we can just go to sleep right now.”
Sasha closed his eyes. Then nodded as if he had come to a decision.
“I will do this. This person I love more than my own self. I would die for him. However, it will not be pretty, this poem.”
I frowned too. “Okay,” I whispered.
“ Sharp Like the tip of a blade Blunt Like the pommel of the same sword Me Like the face of his face Him Like the reflection of my visage Swift Like the bird of prey’s flight Ruthless Like the killing of its hunt Dark Like the night without the moon Troubled Like the Dead River of the Void Alive Like his heart’s beating rhythm Dying Like the joy of his soul “
“Who is that about?” I asked, concerned. “You, ‘the face of his face.’ Your twin?”
“Yes. He is not well,” Sasha said.
“Why? What happened?”
Sasha turned away from me, shaking his head. “It is too heavy to speak of just now. In the future we will.”
“Okay, I get you,” I reassured him.
“Thank you. I worry about him everyday. I call him just as much. I would give my life for him. I owe it to him,” Sasha said fiercely. “He gave his and much more. Because of his strength we survived an ordeal too terrible to speak of.”
I thought back to when he said he felt as if he were dying. I hadn’t known he meant it literally. Then the words he had latched on to: mangled and twisted. A picture was forming. A bad one.
“Thank you for creating this poem. You didn’t have to put yourself through that pain for me,” I said guiltily. Sasha shook his head at me.
“It is okay. Perhaps it was good to express his personality in poetry. It hurts to be away from him in this place. He-“ Sasha stopped. He rubbed his mouth. “I hope he is well enough to come eventually.”
I wondered what he’d been about to say. But I did not press the issue.
“Me too. I’m so sorry you all are dealing with that kind of pain. For what it’s worth, I think the poem you made about him is beautiful. Your brother sounds like a strong Wingscale that’s really going through it right now. I hope whatever joy has been stolen from him—from his soul—renews from the ashes. Or maybe some new joy will settle there, burning brightly.”
“Like a Phoenix,” he smiled. “I will tell him what you said. You two would get along, I think.”
“I can’t wait to meet him then,” I said. I wondered what sort of person he was. Moreover, I found it incredibly interesting that Sasha had a twin considering I did as well. I would tell him that news sometime when he was not already overwhelmed.
“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had all kinds of heart attacks and poetry and seen fire wings and what have you,” I suggested.
Sasha chuckled. “Perhaps. I must escape from this. I do not think I have made so many beautiful words manifest as poetry as I have tonight. If I do not sleep I will continue.”
“Okay, right? I usually spend some serious time writing these things. But tonight it’s like my mouth is possessed by my own self.”
“What an apt way to describe it. I feel the same. I acknowledge that my manner of speech is skilled, but tonight it holds a level of eloquence that I did not know I possessed.”
I thought back to his oration, the first thing he recited of our lyrical night. I shivered. “Sasha, you can ‘Speak to me’ anytime. This soul is listening. Eloquence indeed.”
“I promise I will speak to you more oration. You are the only person I know who would enjoy such serious strings of words for your own enjoyment.”
“I have a taste for dignity,” I replied.
Sasha paused. “What more do you need of eloquence when your mouth creates it from nowhere?”
“You have the flavor I want.”
Sasha stared at me incredulously and shook his head. “I am done with you again. You talk me into a trap at every turn.”
I cackled at him. “Alright, alright. It’s time for you go to sleep.”
“Very well,” he said, laughing gently.
I held him closer, although it was impossible. His wing came down over me like a shroud of protection. We held on to each other in silence, not needing anything to fill the space. I just breathed him. Smoke. Fire. Silence. Warmth. Breath. Growl. They spoke enough.
After a while of just laying there in peacefulness, he fell asleep. I could feel the regular inhalations and exhalations marked by the shudder of his chest. And he was a heavy sleeper. Or he was exhausted. Both probably. His flames were still wild even in slumber. Small flickers and tendrils of fire peeked every so often from his mouth. A deep growl emanated from his chest and throat at every exhalation. I stroked Sasha’s face as he slept, the heat of his fire on my hand, and he didn’t move an inch.
I watched him for a while until it occurred to me to write out all the words we had recited to each other. I turned over and reached past his wing to grab my phone from the nightstand. The glow from my screen was strange, it’s blueness cutting through the smoky red in my vision. I sat back and typed every amazing thing we had said.
Those collections of words we had stitched together from nothing just floored me. I had never made poetry like what I did that night. Such passion and beauty.
I looked at Sasha again, thinking about the words that had entranced me from his mouth.
‘Speak to me.’
‘Speak to me.’
The phrase kept ringing out in my chest. He was right. It was a rare thing to find someone who would hang on to your every word with the utmost attention. With actual interest, engagement. I wanted to speak to him forever, about anything. And he would listen. I would listen to him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head at such strong thoughts about a stranger. I thought of all the ‘normal’ people I had dated in the past. The relationships had all gone ‘normally’: date, texting, talking into the night, more dates, sex, dates. Accusations, breakups, crying. Getting over it. Normal stuff.
This was not normal, not in the slightest. Never in all my life had I behaved the way I did under that tree. I was still wondering who that was. Who was the Leila that kissed that way, that straddled dragons in broad daylight? That made love without a first date at all and then swore a stranger to an oath of binding, a whole relationship? That spoke poetry at him from her breath like it was my own fire?
Apparently I was her. It frightened me, the speed with which she and I had moved in one evening. And yet it all felt perfectly normal, inevitable.
Of course I had known when Sasha arrived there was something special about him, no matter how I tried to pretend everything was normal. why was I pretending?
That very first day, when I saw him walk into my morning class, I wasn’t paying attention when he said who he was. I had looked up and locked eyes with him. We held each others gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Every damn class that day, and the following, I missed him announce his name. It was like a comedy sketch. The writing class we shared was the only one I was paying close attention to, and the professor had written his name on the board of course. It was infuriating.
I watched him like a hawk after he arrived that week. In all that time he didn’t speak around me. And I never spoke to him. Why hadn’t I? What had stopped me?
Just like he said, we just kept Circling each other, but never allowed ourselves to meet at the center of our orbit. He felt the same way. He had said he wanted to speak with me as well but for some reason he didn’t.
It was like a force was beckoning us to each other. To finally meet at the center of a Circle.
This day had been the first time I heard his voice at all. If I had heard it earlier, I would have been completely undone. I would not have let him walk away from me so many times.
I stared at his sleeping form, and a thought came to me again. He avoided speaking around me on purpose. Talking to me. He had known that getting close to me might start something, but had he know it would be his voice that caused such a domino effect? Then again, he knew far more than I did about Callings. Frequencies.
I balked at that word. It was so clumsy, so empty to how it felt. We shared vibes. My soul vibrated on the same wavelength as his body. Our mouths breathed the same breath. Our hearts beat the same.
Sameness. Oneness. Vibes.
He knew something would happen to his body if he let us get too close to each other. I was what he thought I was, and he had failed to prevent that change in us. But he didn’t know anything of how these changes would manifest.
It had happened so fast that he was alarmed to see me standing there in class. As soon as I greeted him, the very second he said ‘hi,’ that curious sound beneath his voice started. The thought that he was so helpless at that moment saddened me the same way it did him when he revealed the permanence of Calling. He never stood a chance. I kissed my hand and continued to stroke his face with that kiss.
And then the wings. The dreams and visions. Those two otherworldly beings… What were we? Were we gods or something? Were we reincarnated versions of them? Possessed? Were they using us? What did any of this mean? I did not know.
I tried to be more upset about this breech on our lives that sent us careening down a path we didn’t ask for. But looking at that red dragon, how could I? Our first contact was so lovely. The way we had spoken to each other in class was sweet. Neither of us could keep a smile off our faces. Laughing and carrying on, a perfect match of good humor.
I stared at him trying to conjure up feelings of grief, apprehension, fear, irritation or anything negative at all, and I came up with nothing.
I sighed. I could tell that in that other life, in that place of lakes of fire and expanses of the cosmos, that we were really something special. Something strong. Something beautiful. I was not alarmed at our sudden connection, the strength of it, the passion of it.
But if we broke apart from one another in the future—everything in me said no—that alarmed me. The coldness. The despair. The threat of death at an incomplete attunement. At a great falling away into a chasm. It was horrifying that Sasha could literally die from us being separated. It was unfair.
I would never let that happen. How horrible a thought. Not after this Calling had fallen upon him and surprises kept rearing their heads.
I was done writing our poems and, subsequently, my musings. I put my phone back where it belonged. My head was still swirling with all those thoughts, but I shut my eyes and tried to shut down my mind.
I held Sasha again. Even in his sleep he put his arms back around me. It made me smile to be enveloped in his warmth.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep as well.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep when I felt Sasha’s heartbeat pick up enough to wake me. It was the time where night lingers in the earliest of hours. Nothing but the soft murmur of calling insects and wind outside.
I groaned and looked up into Sasha’s face, but he was still sleeping.
“What is it?” I asked, groggy.
“Please,” he slurred.
“Please what?” I whispered, more alert.
He mumbled something more in his sleep. “Make it stop,” he whispered. “Please,” he pleaded. “…the shore...”
I put my hands over my mouth. I didn’t know what he could be dreaming about. It occurred to me that all that talk of pain and wounds might have stemmed from ptsd or something like that. He was in the military after all.
I let him be just in case that’s what it was. I did not want to add additional stress or confusion to a ptsd dream.
Eventually Sasha stirred of his own accord. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. I waited until he seemed to be all there with me.
“Hey, you alright?” I didn’t mention his sleep talking.
He didn’t say a word for a moment, just rubbed his eyebrows. Then he patted my back. I let go of him so he could sit up.
He removed his wing from around me, groaning.
“What is it?” I inquired.
Sasha rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at me. “I heard your Calling…” he whispered tiredly in wonder, so low I almost didn’t hear him. “It was soft and quiet, almost imperceptible. But I heard it, still, in my sleep…”
My eyes widened, my heart pounding as well. I sat up. “Really?” I whispered back. “What is it like?”
He moved his head to the side, still listening. “Soft waves. A wind chime. A whisper of song. I have heard it before. That is why I awoke,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. My Calling sounded peaceful like being at the beach. Of course, my favorite place. Interesting. I sleepily folded my arms under my head.
“It is very faint.” Sasha closed his eyes. “I know when I heard it.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“You are sleepy still. We can speak of it later.”
I waved him off. “We are awake now. I have no doubt when we say we’ll sleep again it will be no trouble. I fell to sleep easily and so did you.”
Sasha chuckled to himself. “Very well, Leila.” He leaned his back, head against the headboard. His eyes stayed closed.
“I was sitting with my brother, Pasha, upon a stone wall at the beach. It was the evening before I came to this place. I was unsure if I had made the right decision to go with my father. To leave Pasha behind. I had wanted to throw myself into my work to forget the ordeal we had both gone through. But Pasha told me I needed something new, and that whatever it was lie across the ocean waiting for me. Something fulfilling. He said that, surely, wallowing in guilt, in anger and sadness, would not help me heal my wounds although he was dealing with wounds of his own.”
I wondered what wounds he meant. I had seen the scars on his wings. More pain. More scars. Mangled and twisted. He had died and would do so again. Moreover, he had muttered something about the shore. And here it appeared in his story. What had happened to him?
As if sensing my questions, he inhaled deeply.
“I will tell you of the things that transpired eventually. It was… horrible. It is still too raw for me. I apologize for these strange disjointed hints of pain, of suffering.”
“No, no. It’s okay. We will discuss it all later,” I said appreciatively. “Go on.”
“Hmm. Even after Pasha’s encouragement, I still felt apprehension about traveling to this land. All at once, I heard a woman singing on the beach, yet I saw no one.
I heard the sound of wildly swaying wind chimes, of rain, of whipping winds, but there were nothing anywhere to make such sounds.
My brother thought I was crazy. But that voice stirred my spirit as I stared out at that dark water. It was mournful, like a siren in a tempest whose heart had been broken to pieces.
At one point, she whispered a barely discernible plea: ‘Someone, just please help me.’ ‘I can’t do this.’”
I gasped in alarm, my heart hammering away so hard I thought I would have a heart attack. I knew at once the woman was me. It was me who had been pleading in turmoil, with those precise words, wanting someone to swoop down and save me. By the Goddess…
Sasha continued his tale, perhaps not noticing my change in demeanor. “I didn’t know where she was, or what it was she did not want to do, but I told my brother to give me a moment.
I stood and walked along the shore, looking for someone in need, for anything strange. I never found any such woman. I spoke a word of peace to her, whoever she was, wherever she was.”
At the same time, we both said:“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be.”
Sasha stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at me in awe. “You heard those words?”
I nodded, heart still pounding. Which of us was having these heart troubles? Him or me?
Sasha shook his head, rubbing his face. “Madness. But truly amazing nonetheless,” he said quietly.
“Yeah…” I responded. I didn’t know what else to say.
“It was you,” he said, not asked.
“I suppose so…”
Sasha continued.
“I returned to my brother to conclude our talk. I told him I wanted to stay a while, and he stayed with me. The song turned into something sweeter after a time. I went looking yet again but never found you. Of course I could not. You were nowhere near me.
Eventually we left. Pasha and I parted ways, and I returned to my home.
No matter what I did, I could not shake your voice from my mind that evening. It sent shivers down my spine. So I returned to the beach. There was nothing else for it; I would have remained awake all night agonizing over my travels the next day anyway. Why not do so surrounded by such mystical music?
I went to a quiet place, book and blanket in hand. The water was complete still, yet the sound of waves was everywhere. Intangible, lapping against the shore.”
I recalled when I had mentioned sitting at the beach watching waves lapping on the shore. He had paused then, as we stood in his living room, thinking of something. I now knew he had recalled this event and wondered at the similarities.
“The sunset was vibrant, strangely so. It was stunning, like a painting. No one else seemed to find the sight of note but me.
You were singing, but again in sorrow. I stayed out there, reading a book and meditating, until others went away from the beach. Until only I remained. Your faint song, the softest whispers of singing, became sweet again. So much singing, you did. By the gods so much singing. It was like a quiet concert.”
I covered my face. “I’m glad you caught them,” I said, laughing.
“There was only one song I caught well enough to hear the words. You sang it over and over. I did not sleep until you uttered nothing more, your voice fading away. I felt empty at the silence, but content in that, perhaps, my presence had calmed this siren, that perhaps her broken heart had somewhat mended. Unfortunately for me; the absence of your songs caused a melancholy to settle in my spirit. A longing. I came here looking for your voice. I questioned your love of voices because it shocked me, the similarities we continue to share.”
“Hmmm,” I vocalized, not unlike he so often did.
Sasha regarded me, shaking his head in wonder. “Repeating that event back, it is obvious that this woman was you. At the time, back when it happened, I regarded it as a very strange occurrence or perhaps my descent into madness,” he said.
“You most certainly are not mad,” I said.
“Indeed. I know very well at this point that your experience across the ocean happened at that time. You knew my words.”
“I remember them well. Just like a lot of things so far, we have these experiences, the aspects of ourselves that are too similar to be a coincidence. We are like mirrors.”
“Only one of us is larger.”
“Sasha!” I exclaimed.
He laughed at me, hugging me. Then he lay down onto the bed again.
“Speak to me of that same evening,” he said.
I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow, looking into his eyes.
“I was at the beach too. Certainly the same night, the same week you appeared at school. I have this one particular spot on the beach where no one goes but me. I would make myself a wood fire and look at the smoke swirl into tendrils, embers scattering to the wind. I would sit there to watch storms roll in the distance, writing poetry or doing homework or what have you.”
Sasha nodded, acknowledging the picture I painted was the same as his Call. I nudged him, making him smile.
“But that day? I was having an awful time. Every year I dreaded the same thing, but I always escaped. This time, there was no more running. I was cornered, trapped. And the choice was before me. I stared across the ocean and cried. I said it as you heard. ‘I can’t do this. Please help me.’ I just wanted someone to get me out of that situation, but I wasn’t willing to ask for it again. I was so tired of disappointment.
So I’m sitting there in front of these hypnotic flames singing to myself, trying to shake off those bad spirits. Couldn’t even write a poem about my own despair.”
“Impossible. I refuse to believe such nonsense,” he said, chuckling.
“Shocking, I know,” I agreed, smiling. “That’s when I heard a thunderstorm on the horizon. At least there was that, I thought. My greatest comfort to cheer me.
I’m listening to that distant storm, but there were no clouds, no darkness, no strike of lightning. It puzzled me.
But the sky. Oh Sasha, that was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The same wonderful night sky you saw. It was brighter than normal, like fire and roses and gold melding with the sea. I have never seen a more beautiful place for the Goddess to drift into slumber.
I stood up and looked around. Further down the beach people were still going into the water, chatting, lazing about, like nothing was happening. Like this gorgeous sky and this distant storm did not exist.
Then I heard this voice. It was faint. Super faint. But so deep—“ I patted his chest, now knowing it was him. “Your voice; you said those words to me such that my soul was contented.”
“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be,” he repeated quietly. “I live by these words. I acknowledge the feelings and emotions, the pain and joy, that exist in me, that often loom before me. The negative ones will not simply vanish because I ignore them. Sometimes it is easy to face them. And sometimes it is so, so hard, Leila. So hard it feels impossible. But I try, still.”
“And your way of facing your emotions is the truth. I did as you suggested that night; the intense sorrow I felt was for a reason, for many reasons. And I just let all that sorrow unfold so I could face it. Your words were like a warm hug in the midst of my despair. Thank you.”
“You are always welcome,” he said, stroking my face. “Go on.”
“After that, I stayed out there all night. The storm never showed itself, but only grew louder. It’s like it rolled only for me. And it did, didn’t it?
I slept out there under the stars that night. Didn’t care about school. Didn’t care about anyone or anything. Your voice of peace washed away all my worries. So after that I just sang as the thunder peeled, and I did so all evening and into the night. I started singing to you specifically after that. Joyously. I broke out my best numbers,” I said. I covered my face, cracking up.
He laughed quietly. “Indeed; as I said, what I could discern was beautiful.”
I uncovered my face and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. I sighed, reaching my tale’s conclusion. “The next day I felt like I had come out of a deep meditation. Like the sorrow of yesterday did not exist. I had hoped to the Sun that your voice was the Answer to what troubled me. Then your voice stopped for a time. Until today.”

Chapter 9: Knowing
—
Suggested Listening:
Nicholas Brittel Agape
Required Listening ⭐️ Kwabs Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
⭐️ Raye Vela Like a Star Cover (Corinne Bailey Rae)
—
“Is your heart doing okay?” I asked.
“Yes. It is fine. I am tired, but alright.”
“Good,” I said. “I was wondering. Can you tell me another poem? And then we can go to sleep.”
Sasha looked at me. “About what?” he said, smoke drifting into my face.
“I don’t know. Tell me one about someone you love.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Let’s see.”
He pondered this, then an expression I can only describe as conflicted crept across his face.
“What?” I asked.
“There are few I love so dearly as this person.”
My eyes widened. “Who is it?”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. Then he frowned. At first a little, then deeply.
“What?” I asked gently.
Sasha shook his head. I saw pain now in his expression.
“You don’t have to,” I said, my own brow furrowing. “Please don’t. I can pick something else. Or, actually, we can just go to sleep right now.”
Sasha closed his eyes. Then nodded as if he had come to a decision.
“I will do this. This person I love more than my own self. I would die for him. However, it will not be pretty, this poem.”
I frowned too. “Okay,” I whispered.
“ Sharp Like the tip of a blade Blunt Like the pommel of the same sword Me Like the face of his face Him Like the reflection of my visage Swift Like the bird of prey’s flight Ruthless Like the killing of its hunt Dark Like the night without the moon Troubled Like the Dead River of the Void Alive Like his heart’s beating rhythm Dying Like the joy of his soul “
“Who is that about?” I asked, concerned. “You, ‘the face of his face.’ Your twin?”
“Yes. He is not well,” Sasha said.
“Why? What happened?”
Sasha turned away from me, shaking his head. “It is too heavy to speak of just now. In the future we will.”
“Okay, I get you,” I reassured him.
“Thank you. I worry about him everyday. I call him just as much. I would give my life for him. I owe it to him,” Sasha said fiercely. “He gave his and much more. Because of his strength we survived an ordeal too terrible to speak of.”
I thought back to when he said he felt as if he were dying. I hadn’t known he meant it literally. Then the words he had latched on to: mangled and twisted. A picture was forming. A bad one.
“Thank you for creating this poem. You didn’t have to put yourself through that pain for me,” I said guiltily. Sasha shook his head at me.
“It is okay. Perhaps it was good to express his personality in poetry. It hurts to be away from him in this place. He-“ Sasha stopped. He rubbed his mouth. “I hope he is well enough to come eventually.”
I wondered what he’d been about to say. But I did not press the issue.
“Me too. I’m so sorry you all are dealing with that kind of pain. For what it’s worth, I think the poem you made about him is beautiful. Your brother sounds like a strong Wingscale that’s really going through it right now. I hope whatever joy has been stolen from him—from his soul—renews from the ashes. Or maybe some new joy will settle there, burning brightly.”
“Like a Phoenix,” he smiled. “I will tell him what you said. You two would get along, I think.”
“I can’t wait to meet him then,” I said. I wondered what sort of person he was. Moreover, I found it incredibly interesting that Sasha had a twin considering I did as well. I would tell him that news sometime when he was not already overwhelmed.
“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had all kinds of heart attacks and poetry and seen fire wings and what have you,” I suggested.
Sasha chuckled. “Perhaps. I must escape from this. I do not think I have made so many beautiful words manifest as poetry as I have tonight. If I do not sleep I will continue.”
“Okay, right? I usually spend some serious time writing these things. But tonight it’s like my mouth is possessed by my own self.”
“What an apt way to describe it. I feel the same. I acknowledge that my manner of speech is skilled, but tonight it holds a level of eloquence that I did not know I possessed.”
I thought back to his oration, the first thing he recited of our lyrical night. I shivered. “Sasha, you can ‘Speak to me’ anytime. This soul is listening. Eloquence indeed.”
“I promise I will speak to you more oration. You are the only person I know who would enjoy such serious strings of words for your own enjoyment.”
“I have a taste for dignity,” I replied.
Sasha paused. “What more do you need of eloquence when your mouth creates it from nowhere?”
“You have the flavor I want.”
Sasha stared at me incredulously and shook his head. “I am done with you again. You talk me into a trap at every turn.”
I cackled at him. “Alright, alright. It’s time for you go to sleep.”
“Very well,” he said, laughing gently.
I held him closer, although it was impossible. His wing came down over me like a shroud of protection. We held on to each other in silence, not needing anything to fill the space. I just breathed him. Smoke. Fire. Silence. Warmth. Breath. Growl. They spoke enough.
After a while of just laying there in peacefulness, he fell asleep. I could feel the regular inhalations and exhalations marked by the shudder of his chest. And he was a heavy sleeper. Or he was exhausted. Both probably. His flames were still wild even in slumber. Small flickers and tendrils of fire peeked every so often from his mouth. A deep growl emanated from his chest and throat at every exhalation. I stroked Sasha’s face as he slept, the heat of his fire on my hand, and he didn’t move an inch.
I watched him for a while until it occurred to me to write out all the words we had recited to each other. I turned over and reached past his wing to grab my phone from the nightstand. The glow from my screen was strange, it’s blueness cutting through the smoky red in my vision. I sat back and typed every amazing thing we had said.
Those collections of words we had stitched together from nothing just floored me. I had never made poetry like what I did that night. Such passion and beauty.
I looked at Sasha again, thinking about the words that had entranced me from his mouth.
‘Speak to me.’
‘Speak to me.’
The phrase kept ringing out in my chest. He was right. It was a rare thing to find someone who would hang on to your every word with the utmost attention. With actual interest, engagement. I wanted to speak to him forever, about anything. And he would listen. I would listen to him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head at such strong thoughts about a stranger. I thought of all the ‘normal’ people I had dated in the past. The relationships had all gone ‘normally’: date, texting, talking into the night, more dates, sex, dates. Accusations, breakups, crying. Getting over it. Normal stuff.
This was not normal, not in the slightest. Never in all my life had I behaved the way I did under that tree. I was still wondering who that was. Who was the Leila that kissed that way, that straddled dragons in broad daylight? That made love without a first date at all and then swore a stranger to an oath of binding, a whole relationship? That spoke poetry at him from her breath like it was my own fire?
Apparently I was her. It frightened me, the speed with which she and I had moved in one evening. And yet it all felt perfectly normal, inevitable.
Of course I had known when Sasha arrived there was something special about him, no matter how I tried to pretend everything was normal. why was I pretending?
That very first day, when I saw him walk into my morning class, I wasn’t paying attention when he said who he was. I had looked up and locked eyes with him. We held each others gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Every damn class that day, and the following, I missed him announce his name. It was like a comedy sketch. The writing class we shared was the only one I was paying close attention to, and the professor had written his name on the board of course. It was infuriating.
I watched him like a hawk after he arrived that week. In all that time he didn’t speak around me. And I never spoke to him. Why hadn’t I? What had stopped me?
Just like he said, we just kept Circling each other, but never allowed ourselves to meet at the center of our orbit. He felt the same way. He had said he wanted to speak with me as well but for some reason he didn’t.
It was like a force was beckoning us to each other. To finally meet at the center of a Circle.
This day had been the first time I heard his voice at all. If I had heard it earlier, I would have been completely undone. I would not have let him walk away from me so many times.
I stared at his sleeping form, and a thought came to me again. He avoided speaking around me on purpose. Talking to me. He had known that getting close to me might start something, but had he know it would be his voice that caused such a domino effect? Then again, he knew far more than I did about Callings. Frequencies.
I balked at that word. It was so clumsy, so empty to how it felt. We shared vibes. My soul vibrated on the same wavelength as his body. Our mouths breathed the same breath. Our hearts beat the same.
Sameness. Oneness. Vibes.
He knew something would happen to his body if he let us get too close to each other. I was what he thought I was, and he had failed to prevent that change in us. But he didn’t know anything of how these changes would manifest.
It had happened so fast that he was alarmed to see me standing there in class. As soon as I greeted him, the very second he said ‘hi,’ that curious sound beneath his voice started. The thought that he was so helpless at that moment saddened me the same way it did him when he revealed the permanence of Calling. He never stood a chance. I kissed my hand and continued to stroke his face with that kiss.
And then the wings. The dreams and visions. Those two otherworldly beings… What were we? Were we gods or something? Were we reincarnated versions of them? Possessed? Were they using us? What did any of this mean? I did not know.
I tried to be more upset about this breech on our lives that sent us careening down a path we didn’t ask for. But looking at that red dragon, how could I? Our first contact was so lovely. The way we had spoken to each other in class was sweet. Neither of us could keep a smile off our faces. Laughing and carrying on, a perfect match of good humor.
I stared at him trying to conjure up feelings of grief, apprehension, fear, irritation or anything negative at all, and I came up with nothing.
I sighed. I could tell that in that other life, in that place of lakes of fire and expanses of the cosmos, that we were really something special. Something strong. Something beautiful. I was not alarmed at our sudden connection, the strength of it, the passion of it.
But if we broke apart from one another in the future—everything in me said no—that alarmed me. The coldness. The despair. The threat of death at an incomplete attunement. At a great falling away into a chasm. It was horrifying that Sasha could literally die from us being separated. It was unfair.
I would never let that happen. How horrible a thought. Not after this Calling had fallen upon him and surprises kept rearing their heads.
I was done writing our poems and, subsequently, my musings. I put my phone back where it belonged. My head was still swirling with all those thoughts, but I shut my eyes and tried to shut down my mind.
I held Sasha again. Even in his sleep he put his arms back around me. It made me smile to be enveloped in his warmth.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep as well.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep when I felt Sasha’s heartbeat pick up enough to wake me. It was the time where night lingers in the earliest of hours. Nothing but the soft murmur of calling insects and wind outside.
I groaned and looked up into Sasha’s face, but he was still sleeping.
“What is it?” I asked, groggy.
“Please,” he slurred.
“Please what?” I whispered, more alert.
He mumbled something more in his sleep. “Make it stop,” he whispered. “Please,” he pleaded. “…the shore...”
I put my hands over my mouth. I didn’t know what he could be dreaming about. It occurred to me that all that talk of pain and wounds might have stemmed from ptsd or something like that. He was in the military after all.
I let him be just in case that’s what it was. I did not want to add additional stress or confusion to a ptsd dream.
Eventually Sasha stirred of his own accord. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. I waited until he seemed to be all there with me.
“Hey, you alright?” I didn’t mention his sleep talking.
He didn’t say a word for a moment, just rubbed his eyebrows. Then he patted my back. I let go of him so he could sit up.
He removed his wing from around me, groaning.
“What is it?” I inquired.
Sasha rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at me. “I heard your Calling…” he whispered tiredly in wonder, so low I almost didn’t hear him. “It was soft and quiet, almost imperceptible. But I heard it, still, in my sleep…”
My eyes widened, my heart pounding as well. I sat up. “Really?” I whispered back. “What is it like?”
He moved his head to the side, still listening. “Soft waves. A wind chime. A whisper of song. I have heard it before. That is why I awoke,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. My Calling sounded peaceful like being at the beach. Of course, my favorite place. Interesting. I sleepily folded my arms under my head.
“It is very faint.” Sasha closed his eyes. “I know when I heard it.”
“When was that?” I asked.
“You are sleepy still. We can speak of it later.”
I waved him off. “We are awake now. I have no doubt when we say we’ll sleep again it will be no trouble. I fell to sleep easily and so did you.”
Sasha chuckled to himself. “Very well, Leila.” He leaned his back, head against the headboard. His eyes stayed closed.
“I was sitting with my brother, Pasha, upon a stone wall at the beach. It was the evening before I came to this place. I was unsure if I had made the right decision to go with my father. To leave Pasha behind. I had wanted to throw myself into my work to forget the ordeal we had both gone through. But Pasha told me I needed something new, and that whatever it was lie across the ocean waiting for me. Something fulfilling. He said that, surely, wallowing in guilt, in anger and sadness, would not help me heal my wounds although he was dealing with wounds of his own.”
I wondered what wounds he meant. I had seen the scars on his wings. More pain. More scars. Mangled and twisted. He had died and would do so again. Moreover, he had muttered something about the shore. And here it appeared in his story. What had happened to him?
As if sensing my questions, he inhaled deeply.
“I will tell you of the things that transpired eventually. It was… horrible. It is still too raw for me. I apologize for these strange disjointed hints of pain, of suffering.”
“No, no. It’s okay. We will discuss it all later,” I said appreciatively. “Go on.”
“Hmm. Even after Pasha’s encouragement, I still felt apprehension about traveling to this land. All at once, I heard a woman singing on the beach, yet I saw no one.
I heard the sound of wildly swaying wind chimes, of rain, of whipping winds, but there were nothing anywhere to make such sounds.
My brother thought I was crazy. But that voice stirred my spirit as I stared out at that dark water. It was mournful, like a siren in a tempest whose heart had been broken to pieces.
At one point, she whispered a barely discernible plea: ‘Someone, just please help me.’ ‘I can’t do this.’”
I gasped in alarm, my heart hammering away so hard I thought I would have a heart attack. I knew at once the woman was me. It was me who had been pleading in turmoil, with those precise words, wanting someone to swoop down and save me. By the Goddess…
Sasha continued his tale, perhaps not noticing my change in demeanor. “I didn’t know where she was, or what it was she did not want to do, but I told my brother to give me a moment.
I stood and walked along the shore, looking for someone in need, for anything strange. I never found any such woman. I spoke a word of peace to her, whoever she was, wherever she was.”
At the same time, we both said:“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be.”
Sasha stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at me in awe. “You heard those words?”
I nodded, heart still pounding. Which of us was having these heart troubles? Him or me?
Sasha shook his head, rubbing his face. “Madness. But truly amazing nonetheless,” he said quietly.
“Yeah…” I responded. I didn’t know what else to say.
“It was you,” he said, not asked.
“I suppose so…”
Sasha continued.
“I returned to my brother to conclude our talk. I told him I wanted to stay a while, and he stayed with me. The song turned into something sweeter after a time. I went looking yet again but never found you. Of course I could not. You were nowhere near me.
Eventually we left. Pasha and I parted ways, and I returned to my home.
No matter what I did, I could not shake your voice from my mind that evening. It sent shivers down my spine. So I returned to the beach. There was nothing else for it; I would have remained awake all night agonizing over my travels the next day anyway. Why not do so surrounded by such mystical music?
I went to a quiet place, book and blanket in hand. The water was complete still, yet the sound of waves was everywhere. Intangible, lapping against the shore.”
I recalled when I had mentioned sitting at the beach watching waves lapping on the shore. He had paused then, as we stood in his living room, thinking of something. I now knew he had recalled this event and wondered at the similarities.
“The sunset was vibrant, strangely so. It was stunning, like a painting. No one else seemed to find the sight of note but me.
You were singing, but again in sorrow. I stayed out there, reading a book and meditating, until others went away from the beach. Until only I remained. Your faint song, the softest whispers of singing, became sweet again. So much singing, you did. By the gods so much singing. It was like a quiet concert.”
I covered my face. “I’m glad you caught them,” I said, laughing.
“There was only one song I caught well enough to hear the words. You sang it over and over. I did not sleep until you uttered nothing more, your voice fading away. I felt empty at the silence, but content in that, perhaps, my presence had calmed this siren, that perhaps her broken heart had somewhat mended. Unfortunately for me; the absence of your songs caused a melancholy to settle in my spirit. A longing. I came here looking for your voice. I questioned your love of voices because it shocked me, the similarities we continue to share.”
“Hmmm,” I vocalized, not unlike he so often did.
Sasha regarded me, shaking his head in wonder. “Repeating that event back, it is obvious that this woman was you. At the time, back when it happened, I regarded it as a very strange occurrence or perhaps my descent into madness,” he said.
“You most certainly are not mad,” I said.
“Indeed. I know very well at this point that your experience across the ocean happened at that time. You knew my words.”
“I remember them well. Just like a lot of things so far, we have these experiences, the aspects of ourselves that are too similar to be a coincidence. We are like mirrors.”
“Only one of us is larger.”
“Sasha!” I exclaimed.
He laughed at me, hugging me. Then he lay down onto the bed again.
“Speak to me of that same evening,” he said.
I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow, looking into his eyes.
“I was at the beach too. Certainly the same night, the same week you appeared at school. I have this one particular spot on the beach where no one goes but me. I would make myself a wood fire and look at the smoke swirl into tendrils, embers scattering to the wind. I would sit there to watch storms roll in the distance, writing poetry or doing homework or what have you.”
Sasha nodded, acknowledging the picture I painted was the same as his Call. I nudged him, making him smile.
“But that day? I was having an awful time. Every year I dreaded the same thing, but I always escaped. This time, there was no more running. I was cornered, trapped. And the choice was before me. I stared across the ocean and cried. I said it as you heard. ‘I can’t do this. Please help me.’ I just wanted someone to get me out of that situation, but I wasn’t willing to ask for it again. I was so tired of disappointment.
So I’m sitting there in front of these hypnotic flames singing to myself, trying to shake off those bad spirits. Couldn’t even write a poem about my own despair.”
“Impossible. I refuse to believe such nonsense,” he said, chuckling.
“Shocking, I know,” I agreed, smiling. “That’s when I heard a thunderstorm on the horizon. At least there was that, I thought. My greatest comfort to cheer me.
I’m listening to that distant storm, but there were no clouds, no darkness, no strike of lightning. It puzzled me.
But the sky. Oh Sasha, that was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The same wonderful night sky you saw. It was brighter than normal, like fire and roses and gold melding with the sea. I have never seen a more beautiful place for the Goddess to drift into slumber.
I stood up and looked around. Further down the beach people were still going into the water, chatting, lazing about, like nothing was happening. Like this gorgeous sky and this distant storm did not exist.
Then I heard this voice. It was faint. Super faint. But so deep—“ I patted his chest, now knowing it was him. “Your voice; you said those words to me such that my soul was contented.”
“Calm your spirit and be at peace. Whatever you feel, just let it exist. Let it be,” he repeated quietly. “I live by these words. I acknowledge the feelings and emotions, the pain and joy, that exist in me, that often loom before me. The negative ones will not simply vanish because I ignore them. Sometimes it is easy to face them. And sometimes it is so, so hard, Leila. So hard it feels impossible. But I try, still.”
“And your way of facing your emotions is the truth. I did as you suggested that night; the intense sorrow I felt was for a reason, for many reasons. And I just let all that sorrow unfold so I could face it. Your words were like a warm hug in the midst of my despair. Thank you.”
“You are always welcome,” he said, stroking my face. “Go on.”
“After that, I stayed out there all night. The storm never showed itself, but only grew louder. It’s like it rolled only for me. And it did, didn’t it?
I slept out there under the stars that night. Didn’t care about school. Didn’t care about anyone or anything. Your voice of peace washed away all my worries. So after that I just sang as the thunder peeled, and I did so all evening and into the night. I started singing to you specifically after that. Joyously. I broke out my best numbers,” I said. I covered my face, cracking up.
He laughed quietly. “Indeed; as I said, what I could discern was beautiful.”
I uncovered my face and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. I sighed, reaching my tale’s conclusion. “The next day I felt like I had come out of a deep meditation. Like the sorrow of yesterday did not exist. I had hoped to the Sun that your voice was the Answer to what troubled me. Then your voice stopped for a time. Until today.”

Wondering how my step daughter F13 life looks like. She is 50/50 with my husband and me (a POMO known apostate and me a never JW who have strong humanistic beliefs) and her mother (a PIMI multigenerational JW on disability, no other meaning in life than being a JW.
My step daughter has lived like this for 5 years and there are no other children in our homes. We try to give her every secular opportunity there is and the mom tries to love bomb her with how great the sect is. SD doesn’t seem to be religious in the sense that she has no religious text with her when she spends her weeks with us, she celebrate Christmas, Easter, birthdays, new years, Father’s Day, Halloween and our constitution day (which is a big day here). She also old plays football on our weeks. She watches all kind of tv shows and even goes to class mates birthdays and has her own. She never asks to attend religious stuff on her time here; the only thing is she sometimes wants to be social with other kids from the sect on our time. We say sure, even though they can’t come to our house because I am worldly and my husband is an apostate.
It just seems like the religion is less strict now than 20-30 years ago. We wonder; do the kids talk about religion? How different does our daughter feel from her JW friends? Will they make her feel it? She is not yet baptised; how and when will the peer pressure start? And how likely is it when she doesn’t believe AND is with pomo parent half of the time?
Also appreciate any advice on raising a teenager in this situation. We want to be the best parents.

Starting off with pictures of me because I've got ghosted too many times right after showing them.
I am looking for a lady between 25 and 35 years old, for a committed monogamous childfree relationship. My goal is to become a true team, supporting each other, caring for each other, nurturing each other and helping each other grow and realise our goals and dreams as much as possible. I'm hoping to find someone that values a relationship as much as I do and takes it seriously. It's not the only thing my life revolves around, but it's also not just something 'nice to have' for me.
I am 186cm tall, slim/fit built, dark brown hair, brown eyes. Both my arms are tattooed (full sleeve), as are my calves and the areas above my ankles. Regarding pictures see below. I am a runner, training multiple times a week. I'm also vegan. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. While I am mostly securely attached, withdrawing from me triggers anxiety and I have made a horrible experience with an avoidant partner in the past, so that is something I fear I cannot deal with again.
I am also an atheist.
I am a very warm, soft and sensitive person, I think I am humorous, I am self reflecting a lot and I can also be really passionate and romantic. Those are traits that also are really important to me in a woman.
I can be quite social, I am a good talker, but also love to listen to really get to know someone on a deeper level. I can enjoy an evening out with friends just as much as the silence of sitting at the shores of the river and watching the sunset in solitude (although I've been craving to watch it together with a partner for a really long time now). I can be out in a pub, at a rave, a metal show or at a football game and have the time of my life, but I cannot do these things every day; I need recharge time (on the sofa, in the woods for a run, a lazy Sunday staying in bed etc.). This should give you an idea; basically, I am a homebody that thoroughly enjoys going out in moderation.
I won't say too much about hobbies; suffice it to say I am into the dark, the obscure, the macabre, the occult, the mysterious, the erotic. It won't surprise you that I had a gothic phase in my youth, bonus points if you did too!
What I'm looking for
Although similar hobbies and interests are a plus, emotional and intimate compatibility are more important to me. I am a very sensitive and emotional person (I do cry easily and by this point I don't think I'll ever be able to change that, sorry), so if you're too, we will definitely understand each other. I need someone who I can open up to (which I do rather quickly, anyway), be myself, bare my soul to and I need these things from you, too. I've had my share of emotionally unavailable women who were afraid of intimacy so I know I can't deal with that again because of the way how those things affect me. I am always emotionally invested with the woman I pursue and in those cases that was to my detriment. But my ability to feel so deep is also something I wouldn't want to change because as of yet, although it's getting harder, I haven't given up on finding someone.
With those emotional needs come two requirements that I found to be vital over the years: First, being able to be silly and cutesy together and to accept each other's inner child and care for it. I am not talking about having to deal with another person's immaturity or inability to perform basic adult skills, rather with the way sadness, hurt, anxiety and being overwhelmed manifests for me (and maybe for you, too?). I need someone who is able to comfort me, to hold me, to allow me to be weak and needy for a while until I've calmed down, and I'm more than ready to offer the same. Your inner child can come out for a while, no problem (: Also in a positive way: Thankfully, today everyone seems to be understanding of the cuteness overload cats (or any animal baby, really) can cause; I need that with a partner. I also still have plushies as comfort animals and ideally, you do too.
Apparently in every relationship, one person is the stronger one. In the past, I have been with women who obviously were stronger than me, but that doesn't mean they always had to be strong, far from it. I certainly need to be able to feel protected, but it's not like I'm a particularly needy partner, like everyone, I have my ups and downs, but I can pull my weight and have been told by past partners that I am very caring and that they felt safe and understood with me, and providing that for my partner is really important for me as well.
Second, intimate compatibility. I am rather insatiable and love to experiment when it comes to the bedroom, so you should, too, in order that we can explore and enjoy together. I found out how fulfilling living out those fantasies can be after years of never being able to try and in a relationship, this kind of fulfillment for both partners is a must for me. I found the term 'filthy best friends and partners' to be a perfect description.
I'm looking for a balance between healthy independence and being emotionally present. A relationship where we 'get' each other; we're both each other's number one and treat each other like royalty. Where a disagreement leads to more intimacy between us as we understand better, not to resentment. Where we're comfortable baring our souls to each other, becoming a safe haven and secure base for each other. I don't like the modern notion that you 'should never feel too safe in a relationship' because that sounds like running from the mafia (and believe me, I love mafia movies); you should always put in effort, yes, but safety is one of the things I always want to experience and provide in a relationship. We shouldn't fear that a disagreement leads straight to breakup. I know ‘self-sufficiency’ is trending right now, but I feel like as partners, we’re partly responsible for each other and not our own but also each other’s happiness. Being dependant and dependable at the same time is important; making each other’s wellbeing a priority. If you’re not able to healthily depend on someone and their support while you’re having a hard time, look elsewhere. If I have to be afraid you’ll run at the first major problem that surfaces, even if it’s a ‘you’-problem, it’s not going to work. I think that all things can and need to be talked about. If you think ignoring someone for days is a form of communication, please look elsewhere.
I am looking for someone real. We all have our problems, I don't want or need a 'perfect' person. You don't have everything figured out or 'all your shit' together. Be imperfect. Admit when you feel sad and angry, lonely, hopeless or even helpless – it's all relatable. Don't hide it. Be quirky, be dorky, be witchy, opinionated, be yourself. Don't pretend.
I'm looking for someone to share romance with. Not great gestures, but small, meaningful ones. Poems for each other, expressing our feelings; cards with heartfelt messages that we put our perfume/cologne on, and a symbol that means something to us only, the print of your lips with lipstick, the way I sign and seal my letters for you.
Just as important to me is agreeing on living a healthy life, staying in shape both for ourselves and for each other, regularly working out and eating healthy. I am drug and disease-free and expect the same of you. I do drink as I love a good beer or glass of wine, rum or whiskey, but I've never really been drinking much and especially during the past year have further reduced it. One vice I have is that I enjoy a couple of cigars a year, but I can definitely accommodate you in this regard.
Another important point is aligned life goals: I value safety more than adventure. I want to build a home together with my partner, a safespace for the both of us, where we always feel loved and protected, a place that we create together, make it cozy together so we just love to get back home there wherever we might have been, a home we decorate together for Halloween (my favourite holiday) or Christmas or Springtime, as we live in tune with the seasons, enjoying nature on a walk or the rain outside, reading in our cozy home. I value stability and harmony.
Appearance-wise, I am into ladies on the smaller side), so I'm looking for someone petite/slim/skinny/healthy-fit. Likewise, I am not really muscular and don't have visible abs; like I said, I'm a runner, so if you're more into the gym-type, I'm not a good fit.
I’d prefer to move from text to voice calls, videochat and then meeting up, all of that rather sooner than later. Not that there’s a need to rush anything, but I’d rather see earlier if we’re compatible or not; as someone who catches feelings fast I need to protect myself.
Caveats

• I don't like travelling as it stresses me out; I don't mind being somewhere else for a week or two, but the organisation part of it drains my energy very quickly and dealing with stuff that doesn't work out is overwhelming to me. Smaller trips are ok, but I'm not the right person to travel the world with.
• I am not the most awake person in the morning (i.e. I identify as nightowl)
• I don't want children and had a vasectomy
• I need space for my own projects/time to recharge after social interaction.
• While I feel like I am in tune with my inner child and working on/with it through therapy, I realise this is something that could be a turn-off for people.
• I have been diagnosed with depressive episodes in the past and am taking anti-depressants right now. I realise that I am a work in progress, maybe more so than in times past, but I manage and the fact that I'm putting myself out here is based on me being ready to get to know someone new.
• I want to create a home together here, as I'm firmly rooted where I was born; I realise this is a lot to ask, but I have seen many people here being open to moving, so I want to at least try reaching out to them.

If you're interested, feel free to message me and include some pictures of yourself (:

Starting off with pictures of me because I've got ghosted too many times right after showing them.
I am looking for a lady between 25 and 35 years old, for a committed monogamous childfree relationship. My goal is to become a true team, supporting each other, caring for each other, nurturing each other and helping each other grow and realise our goals and dreams as much as possible. I'm hoping to find someone that values a relationship as much as I do and takes it seriously. It's not the only thing my life revolves around, but it's also not just something 'nice to have' for me.
I am 186cm tall, slim/fit built, dark brown hair, brown eyes. Both my arms are tattooed (full sleeve), as are my calves and the areas above my ankles. Regarding pictures see below. I am a runner, training multiple times a week. I'm also vegan. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. While I am mostly securely attached, withdrawing from me triggers anxiety and I have made a horrible experience with an avoidant partner in the past, so that is something I fear I cannot deal with again.
I am also an atheist.
I am a very warm, soft and sensitive person, I think I am humorous, I am self reflecting a lot and I can also be really passionate and romantic. Those are traits that also are really important to me in a woman.
I can be quite social, I am a good talker, but also love to listen to really get to know someone on a deeper level. I can enjoy an evening out with friends just as much as the silence of sitting at the shores of the river and watching the sunset in solitude (although I've been craving to watch it together with a partner for a really long time now). I can be out in a pub, at a rave, a metal show or at a football game and have the time of my life, but I cannot do these things every day; I need recharge time (on the sofa, in the woods for a run, a lazy Sunday staying in bed etc.). This should give you an idea; basically, I am a homebody that thoroughly enjoys going out in moderation.
I won't say too much about hobbies; suffice it to say I am into the dark, the obscure, the macabre, the occult, the mysterious, the erotic. It won't surprise you that I had a gothic phase in my youth, bonus points if you did too!
What I'm looking for
Although similar hobbies and interests are a plus, emotional and intimate compatibility are more important to me. I am a very sensitive and emotional person (I do cry easily and by this point I don't think I'll ever be able to change that, sorry), so if you're too, we will definitely understand each other. I need someone who I can open up to (which I do rather quickly, anyway), be myself, bare my soul to and I need these things from you, too. I've had my share of emotionally unavailable women who were afraid of intimacy so I know I can't deal with that again because of the way how those things affect me. I am always emotionally invested with the woman I pursue and in those cases that was to my detriment. But my ability to feel so deep is also something I wouldn't want to change because as of yet, although it's getting harder, I haven't given up on finding someone.
With those emotional needs come two requirements that I found to be vital over the years: First, being able to be silly and cutesy together and to accept each other's inner child and care for it. I am not talking about having to deal with another person's immaturity or inability to perform basic adult skills, rather with the way sadness, hurt, anxiety and being overwhelmed manifests for me (and maybe for you, too?). I need someone who is able to comfort me, to hold me, to allow me to be weak and needy for a while until I've calmed down, and I'm more than ready to offer the same. Your inner child can come out for a while, no problem (: Also in a positive way: Thankfully, today everyone seems to be understanding of the cuteness overload cats (or any animal baby, really) can cause; I need that with a partner. I also still have plushies as comfort animals and ideally, you do too.
I certainly need to be able to feel protected, but it's not like I'm a particularly needy partner, like everyone, I have my ups and downs, but I can pull my weight and have been told by past partners that I am very caring and that they felt safe and understood with me, and providing that for my partner is really important for me as well.
Second, intimate compatibility. I am rather insatiable and love to experiment when it comes to the bedroom, so you should, too, in order that we can explore and enjoy together. I found out how fulfilling living out those fantasies can be after years of never being able to try and in a relationship, this kind of fulfillment for both partners is a must for me. I found the term 'filthy best friends and partners' to be a perfect description.
I'm looking for a balance between healthy independence and being emotionally present. A relationship where we 'get' each other; we're both each other's number one and treat each other like royalty. Where a disagreement leads to more intimacy between us as we understand better, not to resentment. Where we're comfortable baring our souls to each other, becoming a safe haven and secure base for each other. I don't like the modern notion that you 'should never feel too safe in a relationship' because that sounds like running from the mafia (and believe me, I love mafia movies); you should always put in effort, yes, but safety is one of the things I always want to experience and provide in a relationship. We shouldn't fear that a disagreement leads straight to breakup. I know ‘self-sufficiency’ is trending right now, but I feel like as partners, we’re partly responsible for each other and not our own but also each other’s happiness. Being dependant and dependable at the same time is important; making each other’s wellbeing a priority. If you’re not able to healthily depend on someone and their support while you’re having a hard time, look elsewhere. If I have to be afraid you’ll run at the first major problem that surfaces, even if it’s a ‘you’-problem, it’s not going to work. I think that all things can and need to be talked about. If you think ignoring someone for days is a form of communication, please look elsewhere.
I am looking for someone real. We all have our problems, I don't want or need a 'perfect' person. You don't have everything figured out or 'all your shit' together. Be imperfect. Admit when you feel sad and angry, lonely, hopeless or even helpless – it's all relatable. Don't hide it. Be quirky, be dorky, be witchy, opinionated, be yourself. Don't pretend.
I'm looking for someone to share romance with. Not great gestures, but small, meaningful ones. Poems for each other, expressing our feelings; cards with heartfelt messages that we put our perfume/cologne on, and a symbol that means something to us only, the print of your lips with lipstick, the way I sign and seal my letters for you.
Just as important to me is agreeing on living a healthy life, staying in shape both for ourselves and for each other, regularly working out and eating healthy. I am drug and disease-free and expect the same of you. I do drink as I love a good beer or glass of wine, rum or whiskey, but I've never really been drinking much and especially during the past year have further reduced it. One vice I have is that I enjoy a couple of cigars a year, but I can definitely accommodate you in this regard.
Another important point is aligned life goals: I value safety more than adventure. I want to build a home together with my partner, a safespace for the both of us, where we always feel loved and protected, a place that we create together, make it cozy together so we just love to get back home there wherever we might have been, a home we decorate together for Halloween (my favourite holiday) or Christmas or Springtime, as we live in tune with the seasons, enjoying nature on a walk or the rain outside, reading in our cozy home. I value stability and harmony.
Appearance-wise, I am into ladies on the smaller side), so I'm looking for someone petite/slim/skinny/healthy-fit. Likewise, I am not really muscular and don't have visible abs; like I said, I'm a runner, so if you're more into the gym-type, I'm not a good fit.
I’d prefer to move from text to voice calls, videochat and then meeting up, all of that rather sooner than later. Not that there’s a need to rush anything, but I’d rather see earlier if we’re compatible or not; as someone who catches feelings fast I need to protect myself.
Caveats

• I don't like travelling as it stresses me out; I don't mind being somewhere else for a week or two, but the organisation part of it drains my energy very quickly and dealing with stuff that doesn't work out is overwhelming to me. Smaller trips are ok, but I'm not the right person to travel the world with.
• I am not the most awake person in the morning (i.e. I identify as nightowl)
• I don't want children and had a vasectomy
• I need space for my own projects/time to recharge after social interaction.
• While I feel like I am in tune with my inner child and working on/with it through therapy, I realise this is something that could be a turn-off for people.
• I have been diagnosed with depressive episodes in the past and am taking anti-depressants right now. I realise that I am a work in progress, maybe more so than in times past, but I manage and the fact that I'm putting myself out here is based on me being ready to get to know someone new.
• I want to create a home together here, as I'm firmly rooted where I was born; I realise this is a lot to ask, but I have seen many people here being open to moving, so I want to at least try reaching out to them.

If you're interested, feel free to message me and include some pictures of yourself (:

In the very heart of bible country, nearly the buckle of the belt, is the state of Oklahoma. It was October in Oklahoma, leaves were changing color, and the heat was gone. The fall hunting season was already on its way to another good year turnout of hunters for Oklahoma.
The Oklahoma City Walmart was stocked to the brim with Halloween candy, costumes, and color hair spray as far as the eye could see. And there were always many little eyes alight with delight as Halloween was known as the signal for the “holidays”.
Children dream. The possibility of becoming a ninja, superhero, Greek goddess, or even the main villain out of that summer movie, the one that everyone had to see. You know that villain.
These Children were easily found anywhere costumes were to be had. It was nothing to see a little head bob up over the isle of half shelf, the ones that ran for acres. And in a very juvenile voice, one could hear the pleading, “Please, please mommy.” Spooky sounds playing over the k-mart speaker system. As costumes were picked out with love and a small giggle of fun. A giggle of fun Michael Rhodes would no longer be able to share with his children.
In September of 2012, Brittany Dillard, one of the seven nieces and nephews staying with Michael Rhodes, when Britanny was asked to leave. Her behavior had gotten out of control and the Rhodes’s felt she was being irresponsible to her baby, by dating a gang member, especially sense he was a Crip and she was not. Some of her other behavior had been less than lady like behavior outside the home.
Brittany felt she was the victim of this, and she hadn’t been given a chance to explain how things really were. But her auntie and uncle were not here foolishness. Both parties were very head strong. Maybe because they were related.
Michael Rhodes was a family man. The beautiful wife and four kids plus the seven nieces and nephews meant stretching the budget to make it all work. Sometimes there was a stretching of the patience too thin, a consequence, Ms. Dillard discovered.
Michael Rhodes was a family man, with a teddy bear heart when it came to his wife, four kids and 7 nieces and nephews. He didn’t tolerate any foolishness either, didn’t do anyone any good. His nieces and nephews had been the victim of a different crime altogether.
Having just been received back from the Watchful Eyes of DHS, they were just getting settled back into some kind of home life. With the “holidays” fast approaching, they were excited the costumes were out in the stores.
A phone call, to Brittany Dillard, one of the 7 Rhodes had taken in, would start the evening of October 19, 2012, and shattered lives.
On the late evening of Oct. 19. Driving into the neighborhood, members Dulxw women, a small group of the gang known as 107^th Hoover Rolling Crips stop and get out of the car. Within just a few minutes, they had fired a weapon, slashed the tire of the family car, and threw rocks breaking two windows. No one was home at the time, much to the ire of the entire group. Then they left, they would go to call Fuston. Even though he rolled out of Enid, they were able to get him to Oklahoma City.
Brian Bulter went to Pennon’ s house before the incident took place. Bulter had ridden with Howard. Bulter had agreed to “rob some Mexicans”, but then he got to help kill an innocent person and nearly his daughter.
The police were called and there was a small investigation conducted. Without any evidence, there was not much that could be done.
For the safety of the children, Rhodes had the children picked up. Brittany was asked to leave as well. This was concerning the drama she had brought upon their household.
Brittany called and went to stay with Mrs. O’Neal, the maternal grandmother of Brittany’s baby.
On the evening of the Oct. 20t, Mrs. Rhodes had spent all day getting harassing phone calls from the women of Dulxw. Mrs. Rhodes repeatedly told them; Brittany was not there. The land line just rang with call all from these women. After it seemed to finally die down, Mrs. Rhodes and her daughter left the house to go to dinner. They wouldn’t even reach the place they were headed out the next evening with her friends to get a little rest from the ongoing drama dropped at her doorstep. She left her youngest daughter and her 19-year-old son, Jalan at home with their father.
That night late on the evening of the 20^th, Fuston and his crew rolled up on Rhodes’s house in two cars. Ronnie Fuston was impulsive, angry, and looking for another chance to kill. This Dillard woman fit the bill no matter what, but they all had to die, according to Fuston.
Ronnie Fuston, Terral Howard, butler, pennon, and Jordan crept up in the thick darkness. Anothy brown JR was told to remain in the car, according to court documents. The darkness of the neighborhood added to their stealth. The car had not had its tires replaced and thus sat in the driveway for them to hide from line of sight of the front door. It would only take a second for Fuston’s hot raging impulses to kick in. He ran for the door at a full barrel roar. With the other in tow, he kicked in the front door to find Rhodes on the couch half asleep with Rhodes three-year-old on his chest. The first hit was in the shoulder of Rhodes, the blood spattered on his toddler. The noise and the blood woke her, Rhodes dropping her on the couch behind him in protection. She screamed and cried, covering her ears.
Rhodes never had a chance to react as two more bullets struck him. Everyone else had fired wildly hitting nothing. They didn’t search the house, had they, they would have found Rhodes’ 19-year-old son, Jalan.
They ran out leaving the door wide open. Hearing the shots, neighbors were stepping out to see what happened, one neighbor would see Fuston speed away. She would later tell the police she saw it only leaving and didn’t have anything else.
Having heard the gunshots, Jalan had been playing video games in his room. He ran into the living room. Jalan found the door open and that his dad was on the floor up against the couch. He helps sit his father up and called 911. As he did, he snatched up his little sister.
Jalan tried to wipe some of the blood from face as he held his phone with his free hand. He had sat her on the edge of the couch so he could see both her and his father.
Rhodes was holding his son’s hand as he lay there and bled out. His eyes went dark as Jalan didn’t know if and how to do CPR. For Christ’s sake, he was just a kid!
When the police arrived at the scene, Mr. Rhodes was deceased. He was taken by ambulance to the hospital where he was officially pronounced. His wife and children were thrown into the middle of chaos and Mrs. Rhodes blamed Brittany for her bad choices and what she had done to bring this tragedy down on them.
This is not where this story ends. Things would take the road not taken with full knowledge of the consequences
The police would question every family member to see what they could learn. They even decided to question the three-year-old daughter. All she could tell them was, “monsters hurt my daddy.” This broke a lot of hearts. This child was fatherless, and the worst part, she was in his ears when Mr. Rhodes was murdered. When she was questioned, she was still wearing her father’s blood.
Jalan hadn’t seen the actual incident. This made his mother very thankful, and she praised God. She would praise him for saving her son and daughter again when hearing in court that Fuston wanted them all dead.
Fuston drove back to Enid with Butler, there would be no victory had in the split between Brittany and Dulxw Women. During the drive Fuston changed his cell phone number. Now did he change it to run from the murder or run from the girls, after a botched hit. It was time to cool his heels for a bit.
Butler told him on the ride back this murder was going to come back to haunt him. Fuston just shrugged it off. Either way, Fuston had the confidence of a gambling addict as he told butler confidently, that girl won’t testify.
For about a month, there was nothing in the investigation. But it had not grown cold.
Minor thefts and other minor offenses had been occurred. Nothing to really raise an alarm. Just the way it was designed to be by this “Lil’ thug that couldn’t.”
One night in December, thinking his murder of Rhodes was over for him, he continued his thug life just the way he liked it. After all, it was Oklahoma City, there are NY style clubs and women.
In 2012, Trelon Haley, Anthony Brown, Donta Young, and Ivan Williamson were all friends. They spent a great deal of time hanging out in “the Ville.” And often were found at the Martson Sisters or Judd Julian. When not there, they could be found at a vacant lot near Fuston’s mother’s old home.
This vacant lot was one of the places used to keep a cache of weapons. This was the place they stowed.
In October, around the time of the Rhodes murder, Fuston found himself at his cousin’s house, Judd Julian, where Fuston was using Judd’s computer to surf Facebook. Fuston found a picture of someone named “Marciano,” with a wad of cash in his gob.
He told Judd that he was going to “hit a lick” which meant he wanted to go kill someone. Judd didn’t take him seriously at the time.
On the evening of December 22^nd, 2012, Fuston decided he was going to get that money from “Marciano”. Fuston load Haley, young, brown, into the car. Haley drover. Fuston was sitting in the passenger seat, leaving the other two in the back. Fuston gave directions to Haley, he drove.
The location that Fuston directed Haley to, was a trailer home.
The four crept up, the darkness of the trailer court holding their shadows in secret. Haley was on one side of the door, brown and young on the other. When Fuston knocked, he used his best Hispanic voice and called out to behind the door.
Crites was home sick for work today and was certainly home when his unwelcome guests arrived. Crites opened the door, when he saw who it was, he tried to close it. Fuston’s name and face were all over the news, and not to mention they all lived in Enid together. Fuston prevented him from closing the door by placing his arm in between the door and the facing.
Fuston fired his gun into the trailer house. Crites had been hit with such a wild shot, that luck was not on his side, and Fuston shoved his way in, taking his cohorts with him. Crites was hit in the shoulder. When Brown and Young entered the trailer, Crites was holding his left shoulder with his right hand. Both walked past the scene and moved to toss the bedrooms.
Crites swore he had nothing. Angry, Fuston yelled at him and shoved him on his back. Fuston had taken the stance, rigidly over Crites in a fashion one might find a police officer standing over a suspected and again he screamed at Crites. “where’s the stuff? Where’s the money?”
Crites held his palm up to prove he wasn’t a threat. All Crites could do was think about his loving wife, Kelly Churchill. He loved her so much and was hoping, praying in his head they would just leave. “I don’t have anything, please don’t hurt met.”
Moments later, while searching for the bedrooms for drugs, and money, Young would hear shots ring out, as he later testified. Young left the residence after finding nothing in the bedrooms and heard one or two more gunshots.
They were all back at the car and moved out of there quickly. Haley was driving. The shots woke neighbors and at least one resident was able to make out the car as it sped away.
The ride back quiet, when the events just happened were brought up, Fuston said, “it was self-explanartory.”
Fuston couldn’t help himself not long after the murder of Rhodes was already bragging about it with the pride of a newborn’s father. Later when Crites was killed again with the chest thumping. This would not be his downfall, come on, it’s Oklahoma we all gossip.
Between 1:30 and 2:00 am, Churchill could not reach Crites by phone. He was late picking her up from work. Churchill caught a right home with two co-workers. She was taken to a house with all the lights on and the front door was standing wide open. Churchill ran up to the trailer home and walked inside. She found Crites lying in the middle of his own blood. Churchill called Crites’ boss then 911.
Sgt. Nick John with the Enid police department received the call around 2:18 AM. He was called to the residence of Crites regarding a homicide at his address. When Sgt. John arrived at the scene, Churchill was hysterical.
Through the hiccupping sobs, Churchill told the Sargent what she had found. Sergeant John went inside the residence and checked Crites for a pulse. He had none, there were others in the home at the time, Sargent ordered everyone out.
Tommy Rose, an evidence tech with Enid police department was called in around 5 am. Rose recovered 10 .45 caliber shells casing from the Trailer House. Rose submitted these to the Oklahoma Bureau of investigations for test.
The state medical would work on Christmas eve to complete the autopsy on Crites. Crites suffer eleven gunshot wounds in total. The Bullets recovered from the left arm, pubic bone, and the spine. The cause of death was ruled a homicide.
Sometime just after Christmas Williamson was walking with Fuston down to the store. Fuston asked if Williams had heard of the Columbia Street murder. When Wilson indicated he did and pointed to himself and looking crazy. Fuston said he went to somebody’s house, disguised his voice as Hispanic, when the man opens the door, Fuston fired.
January 9^th, 2013, Fuston was jailed on an unrelated charge. During a phone call to Haley, he was head telling Haley to get rid of the hammers.
Williamson went to the house on Wabash, where the vacant lot was. He then called a gentleman by the area of Oakley. Williamson would then send Haley a Facebook message letting him know the gun had gone.
On January 11^th the Enid Police contacted Oakley and informed him he had possibly received stolen property. After speaking with his attorney, Oakly gave him the .45 Taurus, purchased from Williamson.
During the summer of 2013, Judd Julian, was with Young, brown, Haley. While together young told Julian about the Crites murder. Julian would later testify about what Young.
All of which landed Ronnie Fuston on death row and a child without her daddy.

Hi all. About a month and a half ago my LTR of 7 years came to a definite end. I (29M) met this girl (28F) in high school and developed a major unrequited crush on her. We quickly became friends and in hindsight there was an obvious attraction and chemistry between us. Eventually someone points out I like her like that but I foolishly crumble when put on the spot and lie saying I don't. Imagine my shock when the same day someone else in our friend group confesses to her and they start dating shortly after. Heartbreak #1. It was honestly devastating. I thought I'd be able to confess on my own terms but the rug was pulled out from under me. But I suck it up, I care about her and don't feel romantically entitled to her, we still talk all the time.
Eventually her and that guy break up but we didn't start dating until I was in college when I finally confessed and we started a relationship. We're each other's firsts. Unfortunately she lived 500 miles away and I was broke and had no car. We're able to visit each other sometimes but its mostly long distance and I'm busy with school and my social life. She ends up breaking up with me because the distance feels too hard, and she again shortly after reconnects with her ex from high school (same guy), who moves in with her as a friend but they end up dating again. Heartbreak #2. This one feels like more of a betrayal.
Fast forward a year or so later, she ends up breaking up with that guy and moves back in with her mom, who now lives quite close to where I am going to college. Of course her and I immediately reconnect. We are together for the longest we ever have. She ends up moving into my apartment, then we get our own place together, things are often great and progressing nicely. But there are cracks. I develop depression and an anger problem. She has social anxiety which worsens. We don't realize it but our attachment styles are in opposition and we find ourselves struggling often. I'm afraid to lose my sense of self and she's afraid I'll abandon her. She wants to get married and I don't have much faith in marriage as a concept. There are cracks. But we seem to be making it work. But then we make a big mistake and put everything on the line to move to another country. I have family there that can host us but beyond that not much of a plan. Over the course of a year being there the stress of the situation exacerbate all our existing issues. We have a confusing and messy series of break ups and make ups. She ends up coming down with gallstones and goes to our home country for surgery and stays there. I'm not financially able to follow her without leaving our cats behind which wouldn't be fair to them or my mother. She's recovering from surgery and reconnecting with her family. Over the course of the next few months, she finds a decent job and settles into a life over there. I'm able to convince her to assist me with bringing the cats up so she can take them and I can move in with my college friends.
In the meantime, she expresses that she's considering pursuing a relationship with someone else, and that she's kissed someone. I feel pretty weird about this. At this point we are broken up, but I wasn't interested in pursuing anything else. I feel pretty abandoned right now and decide if she's going to move on like that then I can too! So I get on a dating app and over the course of the next month I get in touch with and make plans to hook up with a woman. I am not upfront with this to my ex like she is about these other possibilities she is expressing interest in. I end up meeting this woman and we sleep together. Fast forward to my ex arriving to help me move back to our home country with our cats. Immediate chemistry, flirting, desire. Before we do anything I admit what happened with this other woman. She says it's okay. Doesn't seem bothered by it. We make love again for the first time in months. Then we pack up the cats and head home.
We rekindle a lot. I am unemployed and crashing on my friend's couch, she is living with her mother and borrowing a car. Its difficult to find time for intimacy but we spend time together and it feels like we can make it work. I find a job that is working for me. We do Halloween and Christmas activities together. Things are a bit ramshackle and not too smooth, but we are unofficially an item again. We have a New Years date planned but I cancel because I'm worried about a covid surge. I'm trying to save money for a car but it's slow going. She is feeling increasingly frustrated because she feels like she is contributing more to the relationship, but she doesn't seem to understand how that's circumstantial. I lose my job when they close the office down. I apparently am banned from her mother's house after apparently being too rude (scoffing at stupid comments made while watching movies at home, overstaying my welcome by sleeping in my ex's bed while nobody is home). I try to make some Valentine's Day plans but it seems to fall apart. We breakup again when I have an anger outburst because I feel like she is rejecting me being her Valentine, and she alludes to having other plans. I apologize nearly immediately but she's upset because she feels like I've disrespected her. A little while later she says she wants to keep hooking up but would like to keep things open to consider other possibilities should they come into her life. I agree and go back on the dating apps. I connect with a couple women there but ultimately my ex and I come back to each other and agree to date eachother exclusively. Things seem to be going well again. I start a new job. I work nights and weekends but I'm making time for her. We go on dates. We find ways to be intimate. We still have arguments. I'm trying to get my act together but she's impatient with my progress. It feels like shes increasingly intolerant of my problems and weaknesses. Like if I'm not praising and loving on her she doesn't want any of it. In the middle of one of our dates I try to express how it stresses me out when she insists on using her phone while driving to select music and it turns into an argument which culminates when she decides to bring up driving mistakes and bad behavior I've made like 4 years ago. I snap and yell at her, then get out of the car and walk away to try and calm down. I come back and apologize, but try to express how I don't feel like it's fair for her to do that and that I think she shouldn't invalidate my feelings because I'm asking her to modify her behavior a little. That's not me "talking shit". Eventually we get past it and finish the date but I don't think she really engaged with anything I said.
A day or two later she informs me that she is going to be 'getting more serious about finding someone else' by using a dating app, because 'she doesn't see a future with me'. I wish I had said, "Don't do that, I love you. I want a future with you." But I tried to respect the choice. Anyways, she rejects my attempts to get closer with her, says we can still be friends, and finds someone else. I decide I need to go NC to process everything. But I'm heartbroken.
Heartbreak #3. Definitely the worst of the 3. I've had panic attacks and days where I just breakdown crying over and over again. I break the NC a few times and one of us ends up hurting other and we go back to NC.
Eventually I realize the most painful part of the grief is losing my best friend, rather than the relationship. I don't romanticize it anymore. But I miss talking to her.
So I tell her this. I say I just want to be friends. I'm not trying to win her back. Her new boyfriend is comfortable with it. For a little while it feels really possible. We have a couple great conversations like we used to when we were friends. But she's way more sensitive to my words now. Anything that's remotely critical and unsolicited sets her off. The last conversation we had lead to her blocking me on apparently everything and I really don't understand why. Honestly I think she has a lot of emotions she hasn't properly processed and is coping with them by villainizing me and trying to speed run her new relationship.
Idk I just don't get it. But I guess I have to accept it.

Just got back from the park. Had a great time, but as I was riding the Sky Ride to the front of the park, I couldn't help but wonder about the overall theming, and what it was. I'm comparing this to Disney World's Magic Kingdom (or really any of their parks), who obviously wrote the book on theming. Also obviously, Cedar Point isn't Disney and can't nearly as easily throw around theming, dip into a well of IP to do it, etc. so I am trying to approach this with all of that in mind.
Anyway, I'm trying to think what Cedar Point's main themes are, and how they could be improved. It seems like the only officially themed section of the park is Frontier Town, is that correct? There are some other areas (like Kiddieland, Funway, etc.) that have names but don't really seem to be executed on, and probably can't drive a full park area experience. So with that in mind, here's my take on how to improve it, in case management wants any unsolicited feedback. :)
To start things off, I would create four main sections of the park, which would include:

• Frontier Town
• Station: Space
• Renaissance Village
• The Boardwalk

Frontier Town I'll start here since, like I said, it's the section of the park that already has the most cohesive theming, and I think most of the theming here is already great. Maverick is, in my opinion, the best-themed ride in the entire park, and easily competes up there with anything from Disney. Cedar Creek Mine Ride is outdated, but themed well, and perfect for what it is (an older ride that usually has a 20 minute or less wait that's just supposed to be family fun). Steel Vengeance is honestly a pretty big let-down because it feels really sterile and utilitarian, which is palpable as you sit in line for 90+ minutes (it goes by much more slowly than Maverick). Snake River is fine, though it could use maybe some updating. The section is nice and mostly makes sense. Honestly, overall, Frontier Town is really nicely themed. I'd like to see a bit more effort put into Steel Vengeance, as a premier attraction, to really make the experience feel more immersive. I think they're trying to go with the "descending into a mine" type of vibe, but it's like they had the skeleton of that experience in there, and then nothing past that. Even the quirkiness of Cedar Creek Mine Ride beats it. So maybe put some effort into making Steel Vengeance more immersive, and then call this one a win.
The Boardwalk Here we're starting to get into more suggestive territory, but I think it might be the path CP is already on? I'm not sure if this is actually the name of this area; there is a huge sign there calling it "The Boardwalk", but I never see it termed as such on maps. I think Cedar Point should really lean into this one, and make it a callback to the boardwalk amusement themes of the 20s-30s...which they already basically do, obviously. They have the huge sign, the new Grand Pavilion restaurant, and the new Wild Mouse is a great fit as well. Most of the flat rides are also in this space, which makes sense for the carnival atmosphere. Really, most of what's here is a great fit. I think there's a few (possibly very controversial...) things that could be done to lean into that theme:

1. Get rid of Kiddie Kingdom and Planet Snoopy. I know, the rides are great for kids, but you already have a LOT of this already over in Camp Snoopy, and I think you just absorb that as a sub-area of Station: Space, expand it a bit by relocating a few rides there, and give the space back to the Boardwalk to put in a few more flat rides.
2. Move Windseeker to where Planet Snoopy currently resides, relocate Blue Streak over to this area of the park. I know, expensive for not much gain, but Blue Streak is the PERFECT example of an old boardwalk-style coaster. Use it as an excuse to update the track a bit so it's not quite as rough, but keep the overall design and aesthetic since it's obviously the oldest coaster in the park. Probably will have to remove some buildings to squeeze it in behind Wild Mouse, but I think it could be done. If Blue Streak didn't already exist in the park, I'd suggest they build something very similar anyway, so might as well lean into the history they already have.

Now you have a second area in the Boardwalk that has some really strong theming. I have to imagine this is where this entire area is going with both Wild Mouse and Grand Pavilion going up, so I think other than relocating Blue Streak, none of this is probably too wild yet.
Station:Space Now we're getting into things that I'm pretty sure aren't already on the map or in-progress. This area would include the following existing coasters/space: Gemini, Magnum, Corkscrew, Power Tower, and Dragster. Also, for the purposes of this discussion, "Camp Snoopy" would get a reboot as "Snoopy's Space Camp".
This area would be all about space and the future. The anchor of the experience is Magnum, which already sort of has that motif, and would just need to be polished off a bit. Gemini I think also has sort of that "1970s space/vision of the future" thing going for it, so I think eventually you do something similar to Steel Vengeance when you update it, but for now polish it up similar to Magnum and don't mess with the program too much. Top Thrills obviously just got a huge update, so I think you just change the word "Dragster" to "Rocket" and call that a day. Power Tower is an open question, it always has very low queues because it's not a popular ride, but I think with some branding updates as part of a themed land, you might be able to get some more attention around it.
The biggest change here is that I'd completely redo Corkscrew. I know it has a lot of history, but it's just not a very fun ride at this point. Top marks are for how the coaster goes right over the midway, so I think you need to incorporate that into an update. I'd maybe sacrifice some of the parking behind it/Breakers if you need to (maybe even incorporate it into that experience visibly?). Anyway, the ride shouldn't go away, or even massively change, but just update it while you're building out this new themed space. It also gets a rename to something space-themed.
Everything else here just gets a space theme, including any restaurants, games, the few flat rides, etc.
Renaissance Village This is maybe the hardest one to figure out, because I think it's when Cedar Point stopped caring about theming at all in the mid-90s and said "screw it, just build big rides!" This area would include the following existing coasters/space: Millenium, Raptor, Iron Dragon, Rougarou, and Valravn.
In some ways, it feels like this is almost the theme CP was shooting for at times. Valravn is probably the best example of that, but Iron Dragon also fits in here as well. I'm not sure I can really speak to what Mantis was supposed to be, but since the update to Rougarou it feels like that's maybe the motif they were going for. Raptor is...a bit of a stretch, but you can make it work. Millenium...should be in the space area, but that's definitely not happening with the scope of that coaster! So we'll rebrand that instead.
Really, most of the things happening here are just branding and style changes. Iron Dragon, Valravn, and Rougarou are all fine and don't need anything. Raptor gets renamed to Bennu or Garuda or some other mythical bird, so you keep the nod to raptor (too bad Valravn is taken...), and you also update the queue so that it's not so industrial looking (it needs an update anyway, it looks too 90s-rad at this point).
Millenium I think is a bit more tricky. First, because it's so famous and held so many records, nobody wants to rename it, and I get that. But this is a case of doing something for the greater good. I think you rebrand it as something like Fáfnir or some other powerful dragon from lore, to go along with Valravn, Rougarou, renamed Raptor, etc. Obviously the entire ride queue has to be redone to fit the theme of the fantasy area, but at least you don't have to do any major work on this one.
This is probably the biggest undertaking from a theming perspective in the park, because this space really has no theme right now (looking at you Coasters Diner). In doing this, I think you almost start with the midway and divide it in half, with Boardwalk on one side, and fantasy on the other. You get creative with sight-lines a bit to help with it. In this scenario, we are also moving Blue Streak too, so you gain some space back there for...something. It's not great usable space though, so you might end up making it space for behind the scenes, or increase some space for eating areas...something.
The one ride that really sticks out in all of this is Gatekeeper, since it straddles two different areas of the park (Boardwalk & Fantasy). It's kind of weird, but ultimately it probably doesn't matter. You just lean into it and make it the mascot of the park. It's a great ride that looks iconic, and in 20 years it'll eventually have the same place in people's minds as other parts of the park.
Ok, so that's my takeaway while chaperoning a trip to Cedar Point yesterday and not really getting to go on any of my favorite big rides...basically too much time on my hands! I think the theming could be really great, it'd be a lot of fun. You could do a TON with it during Halloweekends I think, instead of just generic scares, you could have whole themes like Wild West ghost town, space horror like Aliens in the space part, obviously there's tons of fantasy horror, and then Boardwalk could be your more traditional Halloween stuff. And obviously it opens up lots of interesting merchandising angles. It's not a perfect plan, but I think it could be an interesting direction, one that I feel the park is already sort of drifting toward anyway, so perhaps they already have some of this in mind.
Hope everyone has a great season at the park! Hoping I can finally tick Valravn off my bucket list, as other than Top Thrills (new or old) it's the only thing I haven't been able to get on!

Chapter 4: Blue lies
…The past I used to know a dream till they see…
…I wanna live, wanna die, deep inside…
Earth woke up, his head pounding, another nightmare. He sighed he was used to it now, this one a vivid description of how his celestial friends will look strangled in various ways, it had barely been minutes since Luna left and he was already desperate for company, and somehow he kept managing to fall asleep every minute, and his headache from Earthlings was growing again.
He didn’t know whether to yell or sigh in relief when a strange celestial approached him, almost making the planet jump.
‘H-hi Mr. Earth’s Moon- damn it I mean Earth-’ The satellite (He supposed) stammered in front of him like a fish out of water.
‘Hm, I’ve never seen you before.’ Earth remarked skeptically, his energy low for his usual front.
‘...Well you did, now.’ The satellite replied awkwardly.
‘Cut to the chase, what do you want?’, Earth practically snarled.
‘To meet you, I think.’ the former looked hesitant, maybe suspicious…
‘You think?’, Earth snapped back quicker than normal.
‘Maybe…It’s, I don’t know.’, he sighed one with exertion,’Y-you know what? Nice to meet you, I gotta go.’
‘Why you-’
He disappeared, Earth stared after the golden trail, there was something so endearing about the moon, he had a feeling, it wasn’t a good feeling. The name…
His name was Luma right?
A pounding headache pierced through his skull, that is to say if he had one, Earth wasn’t sure as he clutched his hair, the mope of Blue wig covering most of his eyes, not again, he thought to himself the feeling was much too familiar as he felt himself slipping into a dream state, the voices whispering frantically to him.
***
‘This was harder than i thought…’ Luma mumbled to himself as he drifted aimlessly in the asteroid belt, fumbling with the papers in his hand, Earth was careless when it came to disposing of the scripts. Not like anybody cared, Luma felt strange, an instinct told him not to trust Earth, not to trust it…the Crysta symbol had disappeared right out of his hands the moment he had entered this circus and he had no idea where to find it, he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the gatekeeper,
‘Don’t trust them.’, Ophelia had said, well the satellite had successfully managed to alarm the celestial, who most definitely would label him as a snooper or criminal, due to one interaction that could be turned into a fallacy, for someone who knew so much about spying he sure panicked under pressure, Luma thought to himself.
‘Hey lil- bro, you act like i’ll-’ His brother’s voice echoed in his head, he pushed that thought aside, stuck in hell the last thing he needed was the sociopathic freak helping him, that monster. No, no way, can’t trust Nyx, nobody can, nobody should.
‘Lunatic has got him…the madness in his eyes…that was blood lust.’
Chapter 4.5:lies-Everything to hide
…The past I used to know a dream till they see…
…I wanna live, wanna die, deep inside…
Spirit of vengeance heir of throne, we will make you one of us,
You can run but you can’t hide,
She will find you, she will…
Another ghost without a mouth but yet you must scream,
Soon you’ll be one of us,
Soon you will be one of them.
Earth could never tell if it was his insanity speaking or the cry of Lunar.
Lunar…
‘Hello old friend.’, Spoke a voice behind him, it was a soft yet sinister voice and Earth knew who it belonged to.
‘What do you want Lunatic?’ The celestial answered as a bead of sweat trickled down his neck.
‘You know very well.’ Earth in fact did know, but he pretended not to as he wished not to become a dead version of the zodiac killer.
‘I am not your friend.’
‘Who is yours?’
Earth flinched, he hated when Lunar was right, the manipulative, gaslighting bastard.
‘Now, now, let’s use less colorful and less modern insults, I have no energy for this.’, Earth couldn’t see him in the dream state, but he knew the monster was right behind him, he could feel Lunar’s shallow breath on his neck, the celestial tried to distract himself from the fact that he was a mind reader,
But all that came to his mind was vivid images of the manipulator as a green alien.
‘I am not that ugly.’ How did he hear his thoughts?! It was a stupid question after all he was in the Celestial’s mind.
Earth didn’t feel panic, he felt numbness, Lunar never attacked him, he always wanted something.
‘Don’t believe me?’ Earth didn’t.
In a blink of an eye the celestial felt himself being forcefully spun around, well it wasn’t much of a force, Earth didn’t care and he had no energy to fight back against it, nor that he can. The celestial inhaled sharply and had to force his mouth closed, Lunar was handsome.
The most endearing thing besides the literal Lunar symbol on his forehead were his eyes, which were sharp, cryptic, analytical and reminded Eaarth of his own moon, and an unsettling feeling of being watched and exposed naked with his identity filled him, he folded his arms tighter.
‘Surprised?’ He grinned, and maybe…almost maybe, didn’t look like the sadistic narcissist he was, Earth didn’t bother to answer.
‘I asked, “What do you want?” ’ Earth forced himself to look Lunar in the eyes to show his courage but his confidence crumbled away like bread crumbs left at the end of the packet.
‘Right to the point eh? Not my style but I’ll take it.’ He remained quiet for a few seconds before continuing,’Keep an eye on him, don’t try any wisecracks or tricks with me.’
‘Who?’Earth played obliviously.
‘The one you just met, don’t play dumb’
The words burned like H2So4 on the tip of Earth’s tongue, his palms sweating, he knew the name, why did he know the name? That’s right…Lunar told him, the satellite, he he was-
‘Luma Lenquiks the freak.’, Earth spat out, he didn’t know anything more about this Lenquiks and he didn’t care as long freedom was granted, of these nightmares…of this hellhole…of whatever…
‘Good. I wish you luck, betray me and…My eye will watch you.’ he chuckled at his own joke but it felt unnatural, Earth wasn’t planning to stick to the instructions.
Earth woke up with a start finding himself staring right into the face of his moon., thoughts of anxiety rushed through his head, some of irritation, others of anger, all of it crippled and left disabled by the fear the planet felt when he glanced at Luna’s hand, clutching the very papers that weren’t to be seen by a single soul in his hands, of course the careless celestial didn’t dispose of them, between the lunatic and the demon he always had a splitting headache, which causes him to lash out, and other times try omnicide.
‘What is this?’ Luna asked, trying to keep his tone placid but obvious as he leveled the paper to Earth’s eye, his hands shaking, in fright or terror Earth didn’t know.
‘How would I know?’ Earth answered, picking up the usual snarky tone and playing dumb, avoiding the question but Luna knew him too well.
‘Don’t. Lie.’ Luna said, his tone cold as he crumpled the papers,’This has somethings, something I never told you and it could only belong to you-’
‘What about Mars or Jupiter? They are closer to the asteroid belt my dear friend.’, Earth picked up another tone entirely as he clutched his head, damn it the voices again, fighting for control.
‘Mars and Jupiter don’t refer to me as Luna or ‘their moon’.’, he pointed at the script, confusion and fear visible in his eyes while Earth cursed his imbecility.
‘I-I h-have solution-’ Earth stammered another string of empty promises and lies started to push through his tongue.
‘No you don’t, stop lying!’Earth could practically feel the suspicion and anger steaming off the generally calm satellite. Earth didn’t feel anything, he never did, he doesn’t care. He didn’t…right?
‘...’
‘I thought so, ugh.’Luna huffed in frustration and left in one swift turn, but Earth saw his knuckles were pale from clutching so long and the sheets of paper now in his orbit were on the verge of being torn down. Thoughts raced inside his head, he didn’t notice as tear paths streaked his cheeks or a familiar, comforting pat on his shoulder., before he could stop himself he found himself squeezing the life out of his best friend.
***
Mars did not understand, he did not understand the celestial sniffing beside him as he tightened the scarf around his neck, shivering, something was wrong. He felt as if he was being watched all the time. Earth has suddenly taken up enigmatic as his new personality, Luna was worried, the moons of Jupiter, especially Europa were acting really strange and the Red planet wasn’t sure why. He had an idea, but it wasn’t an idea anybody wanted to believe. He awkwardly patted his friend’s shoulder who seemed quite embarrassed at this point.
‘Hey bruh..’ Earth murmured avoiding eye contact, Mars raised one of his eyebrows as Earth instinctively ruffled some sheets in his hand but the planet did not bother to question it.
‘Hey Earth, are you okay?’ Mars just blurted out directly, his voice devoid of any real emotion, which made him frown, he always talked like this, it wasn’t something new but it was like a distinct voice was calling out to him saying he’s wrong, he never ad the energy to be subtle, too lost in is thoughts he nearly missed earth’s reply.
‘Of course! What could possibly go wrong?!’ Earth forced the words out his mouth bashfully, the red planet was sure he detected bitterness but kept up his usual therapist tone anyways as he pulled his jacket tighter.
‘You need to open up Earth, it’s not fair to anyone’ Mars answered monotonously as the word “therapist” rang in his head again and again, an odd sense of tranquility washed over him, he smiled meekly at his friend, unfortunately Earth did not return the favor.
‘Oh sure, you would know.’, Earth’s voice cut through Mars’ thoughts as it grew higher in pitch.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Mars asked, trying not to lose his head and pushing the feeling of wrongness aside, a mild pain in his chest took over as his heartbeat (corebeat?) grew faster.
‘It’s not like you have to constantly deal with parasites on your surface.’ Earth finally snapped, he covered his mouth as he realized what he had said.
‘You can talk to me if something is-’ Mars gently and simply replied only to be cut off again by Earth’s turbulent phrase.
‘I don’t understand, I don’t understand you, how the fuck can you be so calm?!’
‘IS there something wrong that I shouldn’t be calm about?’ The red planet’s voice grew steely as a scowl covered his face, more of irritation than anger as the mild pain in his chest subsided.
‘You know what just leave me alone.’, Earth looked down, dejected, Mars couldn’t help but notice how endearing yet sad the planet looked as if a part of him was missing, the latter celestial was truly lost if that was the case because he felt lost himself.
‘For another one of your phases? Who are you planning to enact next, friend ?’ Corner of Earth’s mouth twitched as his eyes wrinkled in a smile, a rather insane and dark one but a smile nevertheless, Mars was horribly wrong about the intent of smile though as he’ll see.
‘Friends? Sure, believe what you want.’ For some unknown reason the words finally broke Mars’ cool, he replied furiously as his ears grew hot and heartbeat increased.
‘You know what? I’ve had enough with you! Most celestials want to live or die but you…you just sit there watching everyone, belittling them, angering them, demeaning them…for what? For pity? No! You like it. You like making us angry, then once you run out of people to piss off then what? You apologize?!! I can make plenty of friends without the likes of you, who think we are some lab rats to be experimented on for our feelings, don’t you?!’ Mars rambled, barely pausing for breath. He was tired of being Earth’s little toy, everyone’s doormat, dealing with their messes and then listening on and on about how bad their problems are, Earth’s expression flicked for a second, he either looked as if he would hit his best friend or cry.
He did neither, he just stared into the void and said one thing the red planet would never forget,
“I don’t want you…I don’t need you…I wish he was here, they were here” and then Earth just turned away without saying a single other word and drifted onto the other side of the sun, leaving the red planet with his mouth hanging open, the expressions that lit his face were not of hurt, not of anger, not even sadness, not hatred but…
Monachopsis?
(2114 words)
Mon-a-kopsis: Feeling violently out of place even in a familiar situation/setting.
Chapter 3.5: Hello! This is hell
…Who are you? Who am I? What the hell’s my fucking name…
…You gotta look forever friend, did you say…
‘Oh look he’s alive..yay!’ called out a bored voice but Rio couldn’t pinpoint the source of voice as darkness loomed over him, his skull pounded inside his head as if a war was going on inside him, his memories were frenzy and hazy, slowly Rio realized that his eyes were closed and he cracked them open a bit, taking a tiny peek, soon enough his impatience won over and he opened them completely, it was a huge mistake needless to say as the pain nearly made him faint again but he caught a glimpse of angry mud coloured eyes and disheveled dark Auburn hair, soon Rio realized that he wasn’t falling…
He was floating?
He struggled to maintain balance and not drift upside down, his body felt heavier, the boy in front of him had started speaking but Rio didn’t pay attention to a word he said as he inhaled sharply while looking down at his hand, they were…Blue? It dawned on him he was wearing different clothes, lighter clothes with something resembling a light shawl draped over his shoulders and a plain white T-shirt, he blinked. The boy in front of him wore much darker and heavier cloth with a winter poncho over his shoulders, Rio suddenly realized that the boy had stopped speaking and was just looking plain annoyed.
‘Were you listening to a word I said?’ he asked, a tint of irritation in his voice not even masked by his faked enthusiasm.
‘I- Who are you??’, Rio asked sharply, which caused the warm smile to melt, replaced by a dark glint in his eyes that seemed to hide great secrets.
‘Is it not obvious? I am Mars.’, Was all he said thought in a tone of mockery, leaving Rio very irritated and inquisitive, he was hazed out or else he would’ve shown his anger through verbal aggression.
‘Like the planet?’ asked the curious boy, amused by the choice of name, his tone grew higher with panic, a sigh of exasperation filled the air around them, guess who it belonged to.
‘Yes I suppose’, he huffed and answered reluctantly, a wave of nausea hit him, he nearly passed out again, Mars didn’t bother to help but he looked mystified, and that is when our protagonist noticed the gigantic…star?? Human-star?? No that didn’t seem right, he glowed brightly so the former looked away, it was a star…that looked like a human? He seemed to be talking to someone or himself, Rio wasn’t sure, then it hit him like a train wreck. Didn’t Mars look like a planet too? Rio slowly turned towards him, the panic of the new place began to settle in, he felt as if his chest would explode, wait was it space?? How was he breath-
‘Okay…are you freaking out?’ Mars looked a little worried,’Guess I should probably explain before someone finds us and blows the cover’ Rio nodded dumbly, too overstimulated to comment on anything.
Mars sighed ,’How do I say it…? Mm…Hello to hell?’ Rio must’ve looked pretty moronic with his jaw hanging open that the weird Halloween costume guy snickered, which annoyed the former.
‘What-’
‘Listen.’ he hissed ’Listen properly, whatever your name is-’
‘My name is Rio.’The boy said, his face growing hot and his mind tired of the condescending tone.
‘Yeah well, not anymore, it’s Earth.’ Mars said as he glared at Rio, as if daring him to challenge his authority, the latter for once in his life did not start a fight and instead proceeded to fill in the knowledge gaps.
‘Earth like the planet? How-’
‘Listen Rio…or Earth, this place is designed in such a way to resemble the solar system, the last person who was playing Earth.’ he paused as if struggling to remember and finally gave up shaking his head,’I can’t remember.’, he admitted.
‘What do you mean?!’ Earth/Rio felt panic rising in his chest again, Mars inhaled sharply, he looked less angry and more troubled now.
‘What I mean is, we can’t leave.’ dead silence, pure silence, Rio stared at him as if waiting for him to say “haha, it’s a prank bitches”, that never happened, and to make matters worse, mars added another thing that made the ball drop to Rio’s stomach.
‘And the longer we stay here..We forget who we are…some go insane, others simply forget…I am the few to remember.’ He looked like as if he wanted to add more but said nothing as seconds trickled by, then minutes and what felt like an eternity before Rio replied,
‘What is your name?’
‘...’, Mars didn’t know, Earth knew that, then a disturbing thought erupted out of nowhere, multiple actually, he had siblings, what were their names? Where did he live? Who was he? But the most terrifying thing to have happened was..
My name is Rio, right??
‘Calm down.’
‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN CALM DOWN-’, Mars covered Rio’s mouth, he struggled but the fiery glare quieted him down
***
Needless to say, Earth had trouble settling in, after digesting the most horrifying news, Mars suggested him to meet others so he doesn’t drive himself paranoid, the latter wasn’t particularly fond of the idea or Mars but agreed nevertheless mostly because he didn’t want to talk to asteroids, partially because he was on the verge of another panic attack. The red terrestrial (as he called himself) guided him (Or rather choked and then dragged, Rio pretends to forget the details) does not into an orbit closer to the sun, revealing in turn another person (‘We call ourselves celestials.’, Mars said.), that “celestial” happened to be much smaller than the other two and was gray in color and Earth admitted he was adorable, however timid.
His name was Luna or Moon, Mars had told him.
‘Hey Earth, where were you? I was worried about you, thanks for finding him Mars.’ Luna returned a grateful smile to the smaller terrestrial who just scoffed, but Moon didn’t mind.
‘I…uh got lost, not important.’ Earth replied, his left eye twitching and a squeak escaping his mouth, which obviously didn’t sound like the Celestial who was before him because Luna frowned and became overly concerned like a human mother (or Mars would call an Earthling mom).
‘Are you okay?’ Luna rambled on,’Mars he-’
‘He’s fine you big baby!’ the named one snapped, Luna did not respond and just brushed it off, Rio frowned, he himself is not a saint but he’s not mean either, Mars just sounds like a jerk. The Moon just continued to chatter lectures to Earth as the latter shot the Red planet a nasty look as he left.
‘Earth, you okay?’, his voice sounded strained.
‘Yeah Luna…who does he think he is?!’ Earth growled toying with two asteroids in hand, not paying any particular attention to anything.
‘You mean Mars?’ Luna blinked, an expression of sadness surrounded his non-existent atmosphere, which might’ve sent Earth into a deep state of sonder for a while if not for the response that followed.
‘You know it’s because of what happened to Phaeton.’ Luna had a look of sorrow on his face, but he did not hesitate to be direct, Earth racked his brain to figure it out, he could not remember anything about Phaeton.
‘Phaeton?’ Earth asked, a delicate balance to his tone.
‘Right, I forgot you don’t remember much, I mean Venus told me.’ Luna answered, he seemed a bit out of place before continuing,’I feel, I think, he gets lonely sometimes.’
Earth blinked and then proceeded to frown, Phaeton, whoever he was seemed like he was close with Mars, maybe the only other person beside him to know the truth. If The Blue ball didn’t want to scream and run for his mommy right now, he probably would’ve felt guilty, or not. He’s not exactly empathetic and for now he doesn’t care.
‘Big deal.’ Earth scoffed, then cursed himself internally for opening his mouth, was it too insensitive, callous, thoughtless? Luna didn’t utter a word, an ever so blank expression present on his face, Earth just sighed and waited for Luna to fall asleep, he needed to talk to someone before he threw himself in the sun (Not that there was any chance it would work), besides Mars owed him an apology.
***
Mars stared at the asteroid belt, the only Celestial keeping him sane was destroyed, destroyed by Jupiter, left friendless the Red planet was building constructions out of the space dust, while Phobos and Demios up to some mischief none cares about, he wondered if he was going to get estranged out at the point of becoming Neptune, or something more like Venus or Luna? Or maybe-
‘Hey.’, called out a voice pulling him away from his thoughts, Mars groaned.
‘What do you want?’ He muttered, keeping his stoic expression, Earth or Rio whoever he was, shrugged, The former felt a pang of jealousy, why does Rio get to remember his name?
‘Nothing, just hanging’ Earth said before poking in, ’Whatcha doing?’
‘None of your business.’ He snapped back, callously, giving Earth the cold shoulder who for some reason brushed it off, Mars momentarily wondered about the change of attitude.
‘Can I hang out with you?’ Earth blurted out directly.
‘What?’ Mars jerked his head in confusion, why would anyone in the universe hang out with him?
‘No…reason…’ Earth replied, it clicked and anger bubbled in Mars’ chest, pity, that was it, pitied by a stranger.
‘What did Moon tell you?’ Mars tried to take control of his temper, of course Luna told his precious planet.
‘Why will he tell me-’
‘Just leave me alone.’
‘Whatever…’ Earth looked directly at him before adding,’Maybe control your temper.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ The former replied sarcastically, trying not to prove the idiot’s point, but thankfully the latter left him alone after that without further questions, Mars didn’t really regret it but he still felt lonely.
***
Earth felt bad to say the least, but he was more worried about something else that bothered him, his name, what was his name? He couldn’t remember, that made him anxious and probably self absorbed in the eyes of others as the development in the human world got higher developments in technology, causing headaches all the time, lice, any sane person would call them. But the Blue ball wasn’t sane, he adored the tiny humans to some extent, okay maybe a lot, and as time went on he grew close to and fond of Luna.
That is until~
The offer.
Flashback:
The Earth fell asleep on one particular day, nothing about it would stand out because there was no way to tell what was day or what was night, thoughts that would drive any normal person sane, but he, Whatever his name used to be, wasn’t sane, wasn’t born normal. Hazy memories of the weirdest animal interactions would pop up in his head, but this by far was still his most cryptic experience.
‘Hello.’ called out a dreamy voice in an ink black void, Earth looked around, he must be dreaming.
‘Hi?’ he replied.
‘You’re Earth, aren’t ya?’ The voice seemed to be male…but it was too soft.
‘Yes?’, it popped like a question.
Earth doesn’t remember what happened afterwards, all he knew was that-that
His name was Lunar…right?
(1877 words)
Chapter 4: Estranged times
…In a RUSH, he’ll come and get ya…
…Turn ya whole skin inside out with a zipper…
‘Ophelia, it’s no use, we are getting nowhere.’ Nyx grumbled as he toyed with a miniature toy in his hand, it held sentimental value for the Panthesa but it was pure distaste and rage that went into somehow dismantling it. He's been at it for days now; the craft gave no sign of structural damage. Thankfully Ophelia replied before he got an aneurysm.
‘This is the Night-Cage maze, I am not sure we CAN get anywhere.’ she replied dejected, pouting; for a person who treats him like a child, she sure knows how to act like one.
‘Thanks your ever cheerful highness.’ The feline replied sarcastically, he was clueless about their whereabouts and how long they’ve been stuck in this hellhole, the only thing luminating in the blanket of cold darkness around them was a neon lamp, which fed on energy they didn’t have.
‘You’re not exactly Luma either.’ she sighed.
‘Don’t you dare bring him up again.’ Nyx snapped, he clenched the toy hard. He loved Ophelia but she was damn insensitive, like she didn’t know-
Who was he kidding? Of course she didn’t, one of her few quirks that emerged as a part of her …no he mustn't not think about it.
‘Right, the fight…sorry?’ She was silent for a while before quietly adding,’I’m sure we can fix this.’
‘As much as I like fixing things, not all can.’, The feline pushed away his tears, choking down a sob, he hesitated before bitterly adding,’You don’t know what’s broken-’
‘Bold of you to assume.’ Ophie mumbled, was there amusement in her tone? He tried to control his temper and not wipe the ever present trace-like, confused expression on her face; which often occurred in a conversation about emotions and subtle players.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Nyx tried to sound furious but failed miserably as his voice came out meek and pathetic, Ophie sat beside him against the wall, fixing his mask as he avoided eye contact.
‘I mean, I know what happened before- before, like he told me.’ she finally finished, looking defeated but Nyx’s blood grew cold as his heartbeat raised exponentially.
‘You know…’
‘This really isn’t a big deal, we can fix this-’ she desperately clinged on to any moment of silence but The feline’s ear twitched and cat eyes turned into mere slits.
‘You. Know.’ he looked ready to pounce on her, she didn’t seem particularly afraid, her dull green eyes locked with his.
‘Yes, I know. But surely you must have a reason?’ she asked as she ruffled his disheveled Black hair, nearly making the already loose winter cap fall, moments like this made him wish he was taller. He hated being short.
‘I don’t need your pity.’ he pushed her away, straightening the loose beanie.
‘Seriously? You know how hard it’s for me to keep check of human emotions, don’t get me started on extra terrestrial ones!’ she huffed, he was secretly relieved that she had diverted from the topic, Ophie usually does, attention wasn’t exactly a skill of hers, unless it came to science.
‘Ouch, I am soooo hurt.’ Nyx replied in an overly dramatic fashion, and it did fool her.
‘Wait really? Oh I am so-’ Ophie frantically began to apologize, he put a hold to that.
‘That was sarcasm, your highness.’
‘Oh- wait is this sarcasm??’ She asked, clearly suspicious, moments like these were what made Nyx wonder who was older.
‘No my queen.’ He showed his fake disappointment in an even more dramatic fashion, wanting to keep her far away from the truth and the original point of discussion.
‘Distractions don’t work on me, you know?’ Ophie frowned, Nyx had to admit; he was a little confounded that her dense brain got him, but mostly it was irritation laced with guilt and regret. Why? He tried not to think about it.
‘It wasn’t even you, literally.’ Ophie seemed to be annoyed, of course he could be wrong but that doesn’t stop one from being right.
‘Don’t speak about things you don’t know.’
‘I think I know.’ her annoying voice interrupted his thought.
‘Know what?’ Nyx snapped, tired of her omniscient tone.
‘Welll, you think we are fucking doomed, guess what? We’re stuck, not same as dooming.’ She shrugged, looking carefree as ever, everything was a joke to her.
‘Oh, big talk coming from you, asshole.’ He could practically feel her anger radiating like heat, sadistic as he was, the pleasure found was even more so.
‘I said I was sorry.’
‘I wish I could believe you.’
‘Look you’re that thing or whatever…just forget it, I don’t wanna talk about it.’
‘I’m sorry, you want to talk about quantum mechanics instead?’
‘Will you let it go?! I’m sorry I was a total bitch but I…don’t know what to say, huh.’
‘Of course you don’t, my lady. Next time I’ll hang myself if necessary.’
‘What do you want me to do Nyx?! Get a fucking pill for it?!’ she finally burst out.
‘How about trying not to be…’, his voice trailed off.
‘I. Am. Not- you know what? I don’t see the fucking point…I give up, let’s just not talk.’ She finally answered, not making eye contact, as usual.
Nyx felt his ears twitch as he heard steps,
Approaching closer and closer.
‘Don’t move.’ Ophie covered his mouth and pulled him behind another wall, he nearly tore her hand off, probably would’ve growled if not for the warning look she was giving him.
‘It’s the shadow hunter.’ she whispered.
‘I figured, genius.’.
Without any warning Nyx felt an arm grabbing him,
Pulling closer and closer.
(935 words)
Chapter 5: Just a burning memory
…It’s everything you ever want, everything you ever need…
…It’s fire, it’s freedom, it’s flooding open, it is the greatest show!…
He had tears in his eyes, he had clothes on his body, hair on his head but he had no name and as the rain plattered and splattered on his head, he most likely did not have a roof over his head. Who was he? It’s hard to say when one doesn’t have a name and is disowned by their own parents at the age of ten. He wallowed in self pity as his woe ran down his head- his face. All he could think about was the buzz of angry questions in his head, why was magic forbidden among civilians? The overlords and their majesties were both loved and feared upon because of their magic, why did he have to be any different? What was so wretched about these crafts?
‘I hope Karo drags them to hell…those big-’
‘Now, now, is this any way to speak about your parents, little one?’ Came one of those highly charismatic voices that made you wanna absorb every word of what the person says, with no care for the content.
He turned sharply, expecting…oh who in The Angel’s name cares? A man stood there, a little short of 6 feet, his face and eyes largely hidden by a ridiculously large cap, but even without that ‘He’ could practically taste the arrogant smile which lay upon his face, which left ‘him’ lingering with hatred.
‘How can you know you-you cunt?’ ‘He’ asked, far worse slurs resting on his lip, threatening to spill as his eyes burned and vision blurred.
‘I am used to the expression and tears little one, I see it everyday.’ answered the man, the child couldn’t tell whether the man was being serious or sardonic.
‘Watcha want?!’
‘What can I want from you? Do tell me dear child.’
‘Stop it. Stop it.’ His hands were shaking, as he sat down on what was supposedly a bench. The man bit his lip, as he moved towards the child and sat down beside him without uttering a word.
‘These are called words my little friend, they won’t hurt you.’ One of his visible eye was liquid Blue.
‘Go away.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Then-then, I will!’ The child declared as the man sighed and removed his hat. He had a sharp face, his messy hair falling on his golden headband around his forehead.
‘My dear you mustn’t-’
‘When will you stop treating me like a child?’ then the man stared right into his silver eyes,
‘Aren’t you one?’
Tears threatened to spill out, ‘He’ wanted to crawl in a hole and die, what would they even write in his grave if he had one?
‘Ah…you mustn't be afraid to cry, you are still a child, it doesn’t matter what your parents say.’
No reply.
‘My name is Adam, what’s yours little one?’ that hit the nerve for the child, he burst out into violent tears, what was he to say? What was he to say? That thy’s parents have not given him a name?
Adam just watched his gaze still like ice as the child cried, making no effort to comfort him and ‘He’ couldn’t understand why, why was here, why wouldn’t he walk away, why wouldn’t he react? Slowly the child stopped bawling, and just stared into his lap, refusing to make eye contact.
‘Why wouldn’t you do something? Why wouldn’t you scold me? Why wouldn’t you walk away?’
‘My, my, for a grown up child you sure ask a lot of questions.’ Adam chuckled.
‘You did not answer my question.’
‘Would you want a strange man to comfort you?’
‘No.’
‘Would you want him to scold you?’
‘No.’
‘Would you want him to walk away?’
‘No-’the boy realized what he had just said,’You tricked me!’
‘No my friend, I simply did what you asked me to do.’
~discontinued (Too formal/changed storylines, doesn’t sound like Luna or Earth)
This is fine.

I'm 33F and former Catholic (now agnostic). I've been reading a lot recently about the death of church communities and that contributing to our social isolation, seeing how much church and AA have positively impacted my relatives lives', and just feeling a lack of cohesive community in my own life (my social groups are all really piecemeal)
As a result, I'm interested in experimenting with hosting meetups in Brooklyn, likely around Park Slope area or maybe Windsor Terrace or downtown Brooklyn (TBD) that are regularly scheduled (ideally on Sunday middays or afternoons). They would be similar to the structure of church service for the first part, but really secular in nature and just more reflective, social, fun, and chill. Envisioning the tone will (especially initially) probably be kind of funny and riskily stupid and ironic to be honest, but also real and sincere at other points.
I haven't figured out a location or set structure yet but thinking an example would look like:

• pop/etc. music singalong (different songs every time, requested by community members) during different parts of the "church" service
• readings: a few people read prose or poems either that they encountered or that they've written that are meaningful to them
• "sermon": the maybe most meaty part every week where someone talks about a recent learning they had or talks about a story from their life
• reading our 'hopes for the week' (for the world or our own lives) anonymously submitted out loud
• briefly meet other people ("peace be with you")
• block of silent journal, meditation, artistic exercise, or prayer time at the end
• social hour after "church" - coffee, snacks, and just hanging out or going to lunch or to a brewery/bar after that

I have an idea in mind that we will trade off so one person from the community each week who volunteers will be the "lead" (meaning they do the main storytelling/"sermon" and pick the songs, and the whole session is flavored by what's going on in their mind that they want to share with other people) and one person will be the facilitator / emcee that does the run of show to keep it on schedule. So it's also good low risk public speaking and facilitation / etc. experience in a way for anyone that wants to try that out.
Maybe this sounds cringe haha but that's why I'm asking here to get a sense of interest - does anyone have this drive for more Sunday structure / interested in something like this? Or knows of something like this that exists?

I am a Muslim comic book creator. I wanted to share my thoughts and feelings on how a Muslim in the modern world should regard sequential art used for storytelling, in the context that our scholars have largely agreed that representational art is a potential path toward idolatry.
The central topic on which I’d like to address the community is the nature of the philosophical concept of fiction.
Fiction is the process of either creating or interpreting a story or work of art as being false in its literal nature, while regarding the nonliteral message or messages of the work. In understanding how this affects Islam and the words of the Prophet Mohammed, we must understand that fiction, as a concept, has not always existed in the world, and is in fact a relatively modern phenomenon.
Let us first consider the nature of legends. Today, the concept of a legend seems almost synonymous with fiction. But ancient peoples did not think this way.
The Iliad and the Odyssey are epic poems which were composed by the illiterate Greek poet Homer, and preserved in the oral tradition by generations of European bards, before being transcribed by later generations. The poems were not considered fiction by the people who had them as integral to their contemporary culture.
It is a true fact that roughly 5,000 years ago, a Greek confederacy of city states invaded the Trojan homeland in what is today Turkiye, initially by laying siege to the walled city of Ilion, the capital city and most important port of the nation of Troy.
About 2,000 years later, Homer composed epic poems about events which he knew to be real and true. However, he did not do archaeological research in Turkiye, he did not consult written records of the time, and he did not investigate physical artifacts of the war and time period surrounding it. Instead, he relied on his oral traditions, and generations of stories, to be true. When he composed the Iliad and the Odyssey, he understood Achilles, Agamemnon, and Odysseus to be real people who had actually lived, fought, and died as he described it. He included the Greek gods as characters in the story, because, as a devout Greek pagan, Homer believed these gods to actually exist, and to have played active roles in the conflict.
This is not an act of history, because of its lack of connection to physical artifacts that we can analyze scientifically. The so-called “father of history”, Herodotus, would not even be born for another 2,500 years. Even then, Herodotus was a poor historian by today’s standards. The first person to use physical evidence in constructing a history of the past was Sima Qian, a Chinese scholar who lived 3,000 years after Homer. The Muslim scholar, Ibn Khaldun, wouldn’t begin writing about the need to interpret the past through a broad lens until 1,300 years after that. The practice of studying foreign history through a secular lens wouldn’t begin for another 500 years, starting with Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel.
But it’s also true that the Iliad and Odyssey are not works of fiction. While we contemporaneously understand them to be “fictional” in that they do not contain much in the way of truth, they were, in fact, designed to convey what the author thought was true to his audience. This is what we now understand to be a “legend” - something which is repeated by believers as being true, while actually being a complete (or nearly complete) falsehood.
The first piece of literature presented as fiction in the modern sense is a novel written in Japanese called The Tale of Genji. The author, a woman named Murasaki Shikibu, did not intend for the audience to regard it as a truthful account of an actual event. She made it clear in her presentation that it did not represent a literal truth, but instead acted as allegory for a moral and social truth.
The Tale of Genji was written only 900 years ago.
The first European novel was Don Quixote, by Spanish author Miguel de Cervantes, a mere 400 years ago.
Muslim nations and their languages didn’t begin producing novels until about 200 years ago.
The Prophet Mohammed lived and died roughly 1,400 years ago. Which means, when he addressed the issue of representative art being a path to idolatry, the concept of fiction was still 500 years away from being known to Humanity; and still 1,200 years away from being a common concept to Arabs, Persians, and other peoples who had largely converted to Islam.
When the Prophet Mohammed was warning the Ummah of the dangers of representative art, it was in a specific historical context. The people he was speaking to had only two ways to understand information: true or false. The use of allegory to create a fictional setting in which to interpret metaphors did not exist to the first members of the Ummah. Therefore, when they saw a painting of a tree, it was simply a lie. It gave the appearance of a tree, without actually being a tree. It was a deception.
This is how the road to idolatry begins: by accepting a falsehood as the truth. We can see this in contemporary examples. Hindus in India can sometimes be presented with statues of living or deceased people, and begin worshiping them. Famously, when under the British Raj, a statue of Queen Victoria was raised in a village square. The Hindus living there, having no context for statues of non-deities, began praying to and giving sacrifices to the statue of Queen Victoria. Because of their cultural context, they understood statues not to be mere representations, but monuments to deities specifically. This lack of a philosophical framework leads to idolatry.
We can also see this phenomenon in modern commercial media. Photographs, isolated from the context of their creation, and manipulated by computers to be more psychologically appealing, are used to create a false image of a Human being. Celebrities are called “idols”, not as a metaphor, but because they are literally accumulating the praise that belongs to God. People look to celebrities to sell them cures for their illnesses, products which will bring them happiness, and communities which bind them to the brand. The methods employed by celebrity culture are identical to those employed by the cult industry. We even have the phrase “cult of personality”, again, not as a metaphor, but because personalities are often at the center of cults. This is sort of an aside, but this is also why prophets like Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed were so clear on being nothing more than mortal men. Because worshiping them would be idolatry. All praise belongs to God.
Although constructed out of bits of reality, the images and stories created by celebrity brands are a lie. They portray themselves as blameless, faultless, unworthy of scorn, and without sin. But those are qualities which belong only to God, and no one - and nothing - else. When a celebrity does or says something which offends, they must go on tour to make amends, so as to repair their image, because they cannot permit themselves to have an image which is stained by the Humanity of error.
But when we engage with a story which we understand to be fiction, everything changes. We inherently desire stories about imperfect people having conflict over relatable Human issues. Never in all the great works of literature ever published in any language, regarded by historians as masterpieces, do we ever find a blameless, faultless hero. Instead, we find complex and difficult people, with sophisticated perspectives, and moral philosophies forged through a combination of insight and experience. In fiction, we do not seek God or gods. In fiction, we seek introspection into the Human condition.
There are works of fiction with blameless characters who are without fault, but these are universally reviled, and widely understood to be a form of intellectual self-gratification. The first best known example of such a work was a fan-made short story set in the universe of Star Trek, in which the author, named Mary Sue, inserted a character into the universe who was named Ensign Mary Sue. Said character immediately saved the USS Enterprise from disaster by being the smartest person aboard, and then seduced Captain Kirk. The majority of the story was merely an explicit description of sex acts. This story became well known not because people enjoyed it. In fact, quite the opposite. It was shared as an example of the poorest possible quality writing. The story had no tension, no message, and no meaning, other than for the author to tell others about her own sexual fantasies.
To this day, “Mary Sue” is used as derisive shorthand in fiction to describe a character who is impossibly confident and impossibly competent. A “Mary Sue” is everything a fictional protagonist should not be, and everything a brand celebrity must be.
My conclusion from this is that when the Prophet Mohammed preached against the use of representative art as the pathway to idolatry, this was due to the cultural context of the Ummah who lived at the time. Without the framework of fiction as a philosophical concept to filter their experience of art, and as can be seen with modern polytheists worshiping statues, it can be extremely dangerous to engage with representative art. However, with an understanding that narrative art is fictional, and therefore a metaphorical insight into the Human condition, representative art discourages idolatry, and encourages introspection into the limitations and sins of Humanity. The much greater modern threat of idolatry comes from celebrity culture, which creates untruths and then espouses them as the only truth.
To this end, the greatest weapon we have against the danger of idolatry is media literacy. Learning to understand how media is used to create the appearance of truth, while containing none, is how we navigate the complexities of fiction and deduce the misinformation of supposedly informative storytelling.
Therefore, in a world where the philosophical concept of fiction does not exist, there can be a real danger in representative art leading to idolatry. However, in a world where fiction is well understood, but also those consuming the media lack the skills to tell where truth ends and fiction begins, the greatest danger of idolatry comes not from paintings or cinema, but instead from those who use photos and videos to trick the viewer into believing something which is not true, perpetuating a false purity and moral supremacy.
THE END
Postscript:
Building on the understanding that fiction can be a permissible form of representative art in Islam, I have written "The Adventures of Kobra Olympus," a comic book that features a Muslim woman superhero. Kobra Olympus embodies strength, intelligence, and compassion, offering a powerful role model for young Muslims and non-Muslims alike. This project is currently live on Kickstarter, and I would love your support to bring this vision to life. By backing our Kickstarter, you can help increase positive representation of Muslims in media, fostering greater understanding and diversity in storytelling. Your support will not only contribute to the creation of an exciting and dynamic comic book but also play a crucial role in challenging misconceptions and celebrating the rich cultural tapestry of the Muslim community.
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/jamsheedstudios/kobra-olympus-issue-2-robot-rumble

(Note: ‘retail’ refers to the regular Neopets website, currently owned by NetDragon, previously owned by JumpStart - thank you u/fancytables)
BACKGROUND
Before I begin this post, it is important to talk about what Neopets is and why a classic version of it was created in the first place. Neopets is a virtual petsite where you can own pixel pets, converse with other players on the neoboards, play games, meet people through guilds (which are like clubs geared toward certain interests), and partake in daily activities. Because Neopets is now a 24-year-old site, many of its users have been around for a while and remember what Neopets was like pre-conversion.
In 2007, Viacom (the company that owned the domain at the time) decided to “convert” all pets in order to introduce customization–a new site feature where you could spend real money to dress up your pets. While pre-conversion Neopets had dynamic poses and character, post-conversion Neopets were static and rather awkward. Most species and color combinations were automatically converted, but owners of certain combinations were given the option to keep their original unconverted pet. This drove up the value of unconverteds (otherwise known as UCs), and created a fierce trading system on Neopets. In a sea of converted pets, everyone wanted an unconverted.
Players had the option to trade around and work their way up to getting one of these highly coveted pets–but starting from ground zero often meant working on a singular trade chain for years, if not decades. This was a daunting task for many. Soon enough, there was a robust black market for unconverted pets…and when I say robust, I mean, people who desperately wanted these “UC” pets were flooding the “black market” with thousands of US dollars per year.
Millions of players who had been there since the beginning of Neopets would continue to be discouraged by the site's direction for years to come. In 2020, it was announced that Adobe Flash would soon be discontinued. With the termination of Flash, all the beloved Neopets games that relied on it were lost. Three years ago, Neopets further dug its own grave by introducing NFTS. Needless to say, the active player base has dramatically decreased over the years.
NEOPETS CLASSIC IS DEBUTED
Enter Neopets Classic (NPC), a fansite made to model early 2000s Neopets when there were around 3 million active users. For privacy purposes, the name Kiko will refer to the site’s creator (all screenshots with him will be censored in YELLOW). Kiko began working on this project as a way to learn code in his offtime. He began posting screenshots of the progress he was making with NPC on Reddit as far back as 5 years ago (2019). To say Neopets fans were excited is an understatement. When the site eventually opened to the public in December 2020, tons of users rushed to make accounts and create the unconverted pets they had never imagined getting to own, along with names that are probably stuck on frozen accounts from 2003 or so on retail. Instead of Rose6920Neopets, it was possible for a user on Neopets Classic to actually make the pet “Rose”. In its early days, the site was incredibly nostalgic and fulfilling for many people.
Kiko opened a Patreon account where people could show their support through monthly donations ranging from $1 to $25. Each tier unlocked special rewards on NPC’s Discord server, but the most appealing was the ability to make an NPC account for $1. After the initial wave of sign-ups, the site closed regular sign-ups to manage the influx of users as there were easily 200 members already. The only way people could get accounts after this point was by donating, or to wait for sign-up links to be posted about every month or so to the Discord. After receiving an email from Patreon where they warned him of Neopets copyright issues, Kiko moved to Buy Me A Coffee (BMAC).
A few months into Neopets Classic, there was a surge of site bugs and issues that went unfixed and quickly piled up. Kiko was nowhere to be found for almost two months. There was no communication indicating when users could expect fixes to the issues they were facing in game. Not even the mods were able to tell the users when or even if he would be back. He came back eventually, with no word of apology or explanation for his absence. This left users quite upset at the lack of communication while he was MIA, and not knowing whether their ongoing donations were going to waste if the site never started working properly again.
Kiko’s prolonged absence opened a door for many cheaters to abuse the site. This included the use of various bots and scripts that could auto-refresh around the site and auto-buy items from shops. Additionally, several users funneled items and neopoints (the in-game Neopets currency) from their side accounts to their main accounts, which was against the rules. Upon his return, Kiko was made aware of the massive cheating issue and started issuing bans accordingly. He created a channel within the Discord titled “Wall of Shame”, where he mocked the users he froze and immortalized their “crimes.” Ironically, Kiko himself had quite a bit of experience with similar illegal behavior on retail Neopets. He had previously been a black market seller of “UC” pets for real money on retail - and Clraik, a forum-based website dedicated to sharing and engaging in Neopets cheats, did not hesitate to expose this in his ban message from their site. Interestingly, Kiko had previously been fairly involved in the Clraik community and even recruited his first Neopets Classic players from there. He eventually deleted the channel.
Kiko also shamed his own playerbase behind closed doors in BMAC-only channels, but the Wall of Shame wouldn't be the first time he did so publicly. During the Halloween event in 2021, players collected candy around the site that came in different varieties. To redeem prizes, you had to collect certain varieties of candies - and if you didn’t have those varieties, you could swap candies with other users to get what you needed. One user made an unpopular choice to ask for multiples of one kind of candy for less of another and received severe backlash from not only the community but Kiko himself. While some users agreed that the player was acting out of line and applauded Kiko’s condemnation of the user, many others were grossly uncomfortable with the site creator openly ridiculing a player who wasn’t breaking any known game rules. Kiko had started a dogpile where members of the community continued to speak against the user, who then felt bullied off the site. A few friends of his followed suit and quit playing.
ART CHAOS
On March 7th, 2022, an NPC artist (who will henceforth be referred to as Carmariller) asked Kiko for permission to add a commissioned pet to the site that had been commissioned by a user with Neopoints. Kiko said yes and gave her permission, noting that it wasn’t any different from a user paying for a commission, as long as the user was fine with it being on the site. Their stone Shoyru design was eventually added to the site. Later on, several other users pitched in together to pay for a commission of another pet design from Carmariller in hopes of it being added to the site. When the site’s main moderator (let’s call her Lupe) found out about this in a public channel, she made it clear that commissions for pets to be added to the site were not allowed anymore, claiming it was unfair for users who couldn’t pay to affect site art through neopoints. However, those who had commissioned the art were confused and upset that this decision was made in direct opposition to the precedent of the Stone Shoyru. Following Lupe’s claims of unfairness, several users chimed in to express that it was problematic that users had commissioned art to be added to the site. Carmariller took a lot of heat from this discourse, which caused them to take a break from NPC. This series of interactions will be important later on.
ISSUES WITH INCLUSIVENESS
During April 2022, it was announced that a spring Easter event would take place on NPC. In the suggestions channel of the Discord server, a user submitted a suggestion to incorporate small nods to other religions because all the events around the holiday season were Christian-centric. This opened the door for a few users to vehemently disagree, stating that religion had no place on Neopets, that the site could never be “100% inclusive”, and that someone will always be upset. What started off as an innocuous suggestion for more inclusive features on the site ended in a heated debate, with many users feeling hurt and angry by the seemingly xenophobic arguments being made against the suggested features. Users from marginalized groups began to feel unsafe in the server as users were allowed to freely speak out against suggestions to make the site and community more inclusive with no mod intervention. When Kiko eventually came online, he did little to comfort those marginalized voices when he wrote that he wasn’t interested in “pandering to other cultures”, and that “Christian holidays are secular in western societies”. A user suggested adding a menorah or sugar skulls to represent Jewish and Mexican holidays, respectively. He wrote that he wasn’t interested in adding these items “any more than he was interested in adding a crucifix” item to the site. Some users responded that a crucifix is a symbol of the entire Christianity movement, whereas a menorah would be a symbol of Hanukkah and wouldn’t be different from the features that already exist on the site to represent Christmas, such as the advent calendar and the Christmas paint for pets and petpets. To this, Kiko just responded with a screenshot of his Google search where he googled “is menorah a religious symbol”.
Users became even more upset with his response, which seemed tone-deaf and careless in light of the conversation. A Jewish user argued that the menorah is tied to a single Jewish holiday, whereas a crucifix embodies Christianity as a whole. (NOTE: this is noted in the screenshots provided in the link, but several of the screenshots were taken recently whereas some were taken the day of this incident. In the last screenshot, where it says that a Discord user is responding to a message that has been deleted, the original message entailed Kiko’s message where he sent screenshots of his Google searches).
Users grew more weary of Kiko as he wrote that he would introduce a slow-mode in the suggestions channel since the users “couldn’t behave themselves”. To many users, it felt as though Kiko had been punishing and scolding them for expressing their hurt, without reprimanding the users who argued against the implementation of inclusive features.
Kiko and the users who were against adding features to represent other religions and cultures besides Christianity wrote that they would not have been able to “get it right” anyway since Kiko and his moderators were all white. A user responded to this and wrote that those kinds of arguments were often used as an excuse by non-marginalized individuals to not try to be inclusive by seeking out advice from the groups that they were attempting to represent. To this, Kiko reacted with an eye-rolling emoji instead of responding to the user directly and having a conversation about his reasoning.
After this debacle, some of the Neopets Classic Discord moderators created a separate server to invite BIPOC and address their concerns. A number of players disagreed with this move, because they felt that they were being pushed out of the main server and forced to express their concerns elsewhere, but the change was pushed regardless. Notably, Kiko, Kiko’s sister (who had been invited on to help him with the site), and the main moderator Lupe were not in this server. At first, the moderators involved piled the server members with apologies and asked for advice on how to do better. The advice was forthcoming from BIPOC players who committed to the emotional labor necessary to help the team understand–but they never understood. It was very quickly evident to everyone in the server that the team had no intentions of promoting inclusiveness, or a safe space for BIPOC players.
One member expressed that they were deeply uncomfortable with Lupe because of her pattern of silencing BIPOC users. The moderator running the server (let’s call her Moehog) meant to address BIPOC concerns told this member, and I quote, “I’m not going to comment on that. You can view her as you wish.” Immediately, the other members of the server called Moehog out on her inappropriate response. Moehog did not apologize or take any action against Lupe. It is important to note that during these conversations which were supposed to be geared toward making NPC a more inclusive space, Moehog was responding to messages in the private NPC staff chat with approval about how a Black member of the community would rant about being painted as a “an angry Black woman” while having a “nasty personality”. Screenshots of this are included further down.
BANNED NAMES - AND THE START OF NPC'S DOWNFALL
On May 24th, 2022, a user reported the pet ‘Soviet’, claiming that it was an insensitive name that shouldn’t exist on a p​​et site given the fact that Russia had very recently invaded Ukraine. The NPC mod team forced a “name change” for the pet Soviet, where the user received a name change token so that they may change the new name to another untaken name. Users began reporting other names that could be deemed offensive, such as Bimbo, Twink, and the username ‘slut’. Other users immediately took issue with the removal of pet names that were reclaimed slurs, such as Bimbo, and began asking the moderators about it in the NPC Discord server. One user, a Black woman (we’ll call her Aisha), pointed out that pets as harmless as Bimbo were being removed yet the pet Minstrel was owned by a NPC moderator - in fact, it was owned by the main moderator, Lupe. (While the word minstrel may mean medieval singer or musician, it is also strongly associated with blackface as in American history it referred to a member of a band of typically white actors with blackened faces. Minstrels performed songs, dances, and formulaic comic routines based on stereotyped depictions of Black Americans.)
Lupe swiftly deleted Aisha’s message that called out her pet Minstrel and wrote a reply stating that the pet Minstrel was in the process of being name-changed, and that users should submit tickets for any issues they have with pet names. It was never made apparent why action was immediately taken with Soviet and Bimbo, but not Minstrel. Aisha wrote another post about how it felt like her voice was being silenced, especially as a Black woman speaking about the hypocrisy of the moderators deleting pet names while owning a pet with harsh racist connotations. Aisha was swiftly banned from the server. It didn’t take long for users to come to her defense and demand to know why she was banned from the server for expressing her feelings of discomfort. Another moderator (Maple) claimed that he had attempted to mute Aisha for ‘inflammatory speech’ but had accidentally banned her instead. This caused outrage in the community, as more and more users denounced the silencing of marginalized voices without addressing any of the harm that was done. You might be asking: where was Kiko during all of this?
Kiko had been gone for several weeks at this point. By now, the users were used to this. Kiko was often gone without word, and left it up to his moderators to handle any and all issues--really, it was often Lupe dealing with the public chat while the other moderators held more of a backseat position. He did, however, come out of the woodworks to write about how angry he was with the community for “causing drama”. Once again, he placed the blame in the playerbase and found no fault within the community moderators for inflicting harm to their players. Furthermore, he wrote that he was proceeding to shut down non-informational channels. Only BMAC supporters (i.e., people who were paying real life money) were allowed to converse and use the Discord server as normal. In his post, Kiko also wrote that the server was shutting down in order to find new moderators to help keep the peace within the community. During this time, on the evening of May 24th, screenshots from staff chat had been leaked where Kiko is seen claiming that the “argument for reclaimed slurs is dumb”, followed by a joke about how NPC supports bullying minorities and white supremacy. This led several users to feel uncomfortable, believing that Kiko was joking about something that still felt so raw and painful for them.
After most of the player base was suddenly unable to communicate in the main server, many users moved to the site’s neoboards. Although they were glitchy and had many broken links, it sufficed as everyone needed a way to talk about the mess that just occurred in the main NPC server. Remember Carmariller? People were still unsatisfied with how Carmariller was driven away from the site. Some users took to posting “JUSTICE FOR CARMARILLER” on the neoboards, but were swiftly frozen (in which you are never allowed to play NPC again) or temporarily banned/muted. Carmariller returned to the boards to reveal that she never knew commissions for site art weren't allowed as Kiko had previously given her permission to accept commissions from users to eventually add to the site (as shown in a previous screenshot). Kiko showed up to say that he only did that the one time. Carmariller wrote that he said it wasn’t a problem that one time, so she assumed it wouldn’t be a problem later. Kiko then asked Carmariller if she would take time off from work any day she wanted if her boss had previously given her a day off. This was enough for Carmariller to quit the site and never partake in the community ever again. That, however, wouldn't stop the site from continuing to use her art and pet designs that she only had given permission for before quitting the art team. Not too long after, the entire board was deleted by either Kiko or his staff.
KIKO'S ABSENCE
The shutdown of the main server for NPC occurred on May 24th, 2022. After Kiko wrote that long post, he disappeared for nearly three months. The main server became a ghost town, and hardly anyone ever posted there. Much of this is due to the fact that most of the playerbase couldn’t chat there, since they weren’t BMAC supporters. Even though Kiko had left and there was no news of change or progress on the site or in the community, the BMAC stayed open. This meant new users were continuing to donate $1 for accounts that they weren’t getting because Kiko was M.I.A. and unable to process their links. As familiar as prolonged disappearances of Kiko were to old players, several new people who had not come to expect this by now were anxious about where their money was going. There were frequent inquiries posted in the discord about when new users could expect to receive a sign-up link. Mixed messaging from the moderators in response made the situation all the more tense. Lupe made an announcement that Kiko and his sister will return but was unable to say when, and used privacy concerns as reasoning to not elaborate on why they had “to take some time away due to IRL, external matters.” This left many users genuinely concerned that something may have happened to him that pulled him away from the site that the mod didn’t want to share publicly. One artist even mentioned that Kiko tends to his grandfather who was sick at the time, leading users to worry as they began to wonder if everything was alright. Later, a user asked the mod Moehog if Kiko left because of the heated discourse surrounding pet names like Soviet and Minstrel. Moehog responded that the Kiko and his sibling were simply away on holiday, and just needed some relaxation time. Users were bewildered at the lack of simple communication prior either by the devs or the mod announcement to say that they were taking a short break and would be back. Donors in particular were frustrated that they could have saved their monetary contributions for an account had they known it would be some time before Kiko returned.
During Kiko’s long absence, the NPC moderators decide to promote a prominent art team member to moderator status. We’ll call them Chia. The first action Chia took as a moderator was to delete the Spanish-Chat channel, where Spanish and Portuguese NPC users previously talked about the game in… well… Spanish and Portuguese. Given the fact that much of the tension in the NPC community stemmed from issues regarding racism and xenophobia, many users felt like this was a terrible decision which went against the very thing they sought: inclusivity in the NPC community. Chia responded and wrote that their intention was to delete non-essential channels, and that it wasn’t uncommon in larger Discords to exclude non-English channels. Users were quick to note that this was a popular xenophobic sentiment in those very gaming communities.
Because over half of the playerbase was shut out of communicating in the main NPC server, a few individuals made a side server titled “NPC Peeps”. Many NPC users migrated to this server to keep up with the community while these harsh changes were implemented upon the playerbase. It is important to note that none of the NPC staff or moderators were allowed in this server, as it was created initially to aid NPC users in airing out their grievances without the fear of being punished in the community or on the site. Site artists were allowed but later removed.
Then, it came to light that Maple had been actively spying in the “NPC Peeps” server on a burner account, and taking unauthorized screenshots within a private venting channel to use against players. Many players were frozen on the site or banned from the main discord server at the whims of the moderator team. Reasons were never given for these bans, so many assumed it was simply for speaking negatively about NPC, even though these discussions took place in a separate server. The second server had been created as a safe space for all NPC players, especially BIPOC members, and many users felt as though this was a gross invasion of privacy that made them feel even more unsafe.
After Maple’s burner account was banned, he and other moderators and artists continued to attempt to get into the second server and spy on users. (A screenshot of a site artist proposing the idea of sending friends to spy in the NPC Peeps server with Lupe agreeing is provided here)
In the BIPOC server, members expressed their concerns about the unwelcome surveillance, but were again met with unsympathetic ears. Moehog informed the members that she planned to quit as a moderator, and that the BIPOC server would have to take their concerns elsewhere. Members of the server took the opportunity to once and for all express serious frustration with how their concerns had been handled, and how nothing had ever come of their concerns (Moehog had only told them she would pass on their recommendations to Kiko, and Kiko had never responded). Moehog then said that she was keeping the server open as a favor to them and because she didn’t “want their emotional labor to go to waste.” Another member who had applied to be a moderator months earlier expressed that, if they became a moderator, the first thing they would do would be to ask Maple to step down from his position. Immediately following that message, Moehog deleted the entire server.
PROMINENT MEMBERS LEAVE TO CREATE THEIR OWN SITE
All the discord server drama aside— if you asked any NPC user, you’d find that, from 2020-2022, there was little to actually do on the site: you could restock (which entails buying items from non-playable character shops and reselling them for a profit in your shop or on the trading posts), feed kadoaties, paint your pets with Neopoints you earn through Random Events or by restocking, or do fetch quests from non-player characters, where you must find the item they are asking for and they will give you Neopoints in return. A few long-time NPC users had previously offered their services to Kiko multiple times, constantly telling him that they are familiar with web development and could assist him in adding new features to the site such as games and the Battledome, but Kiko always refused.
So, in July 2022, these same members had become increasingly frustrated with NPC and began working on a new site called Grundo’s Cafe. Grundo’s Cafe was designed to resemble early 2000s Neopets, as well. The idea of an early 2000s Neopets fansite was not new by then, and several had popped up such as Virtu.pet and Moderneo. The creators of Grundo’s Cafe aimed to implement more than NPC already had to offer such as recreating flash games using HTML5, the Battledome, and the beloved Habitarium. On August 12th, Grundo’s Cafe had their Grand Opening, and allowed 100 slots for signups which quickly filled up as dedicated Neopets players were eager to try this new clone. Many former NPC users were excited to play a new site that had many features to offer that actually did represent early 2000s Neopets: functional neoboards, restocking, guilds, flash games, and games such as Sakhmet Solitaire, Dice-a-Roo, and Lenny Conundrum. A few of these were features that took over a year for NPC to provide, and many are features that NPC still does not have.
The next day, on August 13, 2022, all of the Grundo’s Cafe developers and Discord moderators were shocked to find their Neopets Classic accounts had been frozen. Their ban messages simply read ‘C/ping custom text and content from NPC is not allowed.’ Allegedly, the Neopets Classic staff suspected Grundo’s Cafe ripped their code and content and consequently froze their accounts. It was widely unclear, however, what content was thought to have been stolen from NPC as the HTML, content, and images used were from the original Neopets as might be expected from a clone site like NPC itself. There was also no way to dispute their account freezes, as the “contact our support staff” link was broken and led nowhere. The Discord server had also been locked down, requiring users to submit verification forms through Google Forms where a moderator would reach out to them via neomail on the site and give them a password that they had to in turn message to a moderator via Discord. The Grundo’s Cafe moderators in particular were confused and upset that they would be frozen if the reason was stealing website code and content, because their roles as moderators had nothing to do with working on the site development.
Long-time NPC players were horrified by the NPC staff’s actions for a while, but this was the final straw for many. Several users who had been playing since the first couple of months quit NPC and happily joined Grundo’s Cafe never to look back. Some friends of the Grundo’s Cafe staff took it one step further by going directly to the Neopets Classic Discord to air their disappointment. These messages were quickly deleted by the mods online at the time, and the five users involved in the conversation were permanently muted in the server and on the neoboards, and eventually frozen on the site. Several users were also frozen for expressing their discontent with the NPC staff. Users complained that the server felt like severe censorship as they couldn’t express any discontent with the site’s actions without it being deleted or their accounts being muted.
STAFF CHAT LEAKS
Long-time NPC players weren’t the only ones disgusted by the behavior of the NPC staff. One staff member took a huge risk to expose some controversial conversations from the NPC private staff chat which included Kiko, his sister, the mods, and artists. In these screenshots, staff members/moderators and artists are seen mocking Aisha, calling her a “nasty spiteful little bitch” and referring to the player base as “cunts”. They joked about making Aisha’s verification word to get access to discord “minstrel”. Although Kiko and the NPC staff accused the Grundo’s Cafe team of copying and pasting content, screenshots were also leaked of them snooping around to steal scripts and code from Grundo’s Cafe staff members. These scripts were initially created by the Grundo’s Cafe team when they were active users on NPC, and many of the playerbase depended on them. However, after being frozen on NPC, the Grundo’s Cafe team removed access to their scripts, leaving NPC users at a disadvantage. In the previously linked screenshots, staff members are seen discussing how to get those scripts back in order to add them to the NPC website and pass off as their own. They also accused the Grundo’s Cafe main developer of stealing the footer text from NPC, but a Reddit comment from Kiko himself would prove otherwise. Through the leak of these screenshots, it became swiftly apparent to users that the Grundo’s Cafe team was frozen out of pure jealousy or spitefulness at their quick success without any solid reason to back it up. Many of the players who had been loyal through the ups and downs of Neopets Classic over the past two years felt disgusted by the racist remarks made behind closed doors. Any messages regarding the staff chat leaks in the NPC server were deleted, and some users were muted or frozen for attempting to talk about it.
After August 2022, many users stopped playing NPC. Between other Neopets clones such as Grundo’s Cafe, Moderneo, and Virtu.pet, many people found that there was much to do on other sites compared to NPC. Many users also refused to be associated with a site run by individuals such as Kiko and his staff. The drop in active numbers was evident even to NPC users that remained active. On the site homepage, there is a counter of how many users are online at the moment, and there were often only 30-40 members online (whereas in the past, numbers would easily reach triple digits, especially on the weekends). NPC users grew frustrated with the lack of updates and small player base, claiming that it was now difficult to complete quests as no one was restocking and filling their shops with items. In October 2022, users expected a Halloween event, and staff members responded that it was coming, keeping it vague at best. On October 28th, it was announced that a Halloween event would be coming that day. However, the site broke the very same day. Users grew more and more frustrated as they just desired to play on a functional site where the developer actually had an interest in improving the site. A few days went by with radio silence as the site remained unplayable. Then, on November 3rd, Kiko wrote a very important announcement. He announced that, because of some issues with the server, the site had lost 5 months of data. Many users were shocked and devastated, as all their progress and hard work from the past 5 months had suddenly been erased. Several users wondered how Kiko had gone five months without backing up data onto any external site. Users who lost pets due to the rollback were required to message mods with proof of which pets they owned so that they could be replaced. Typically, Neopets Classic would do “pound releases” where previously stuck pets on frozen accounts would be released to the pound where any user could adopt them to their own account. However, as a result of the chaos from the rollback, mods used this rollback as their chance to take pets from frozen accounts for their own use, giving themself a secretive priority over which pets they wanted for themselves before they were released to the pound for the general public.
THE STATE OF NEOPETS CLASSIC TODAY
To this day, several Neopets fansites and projects exist, and many Neopets fans are members of multiple sites. The sites, such as Grundo’s Cafe, Virtu.pet, and Moderneo, remain friendly with each other, and oftentimes the developers even work together on each other’s sites in various ways. Grundo’s Cafe has even been referenced by the official Neopets team multiple times (example 1, example 2). All three sites have an active community.
The exception to this is Neopets Classic. Users are no longer able to check how many players are online, as either Kiko or his team have removed the feature. You can try and gauge activity with their latest news announcement which stated that they received zero poem submissions for Moehog Day (a pet day where Moehogs are celebrated on every Neopets site, often including new pet art and user-submitted poems).
Neopets Classic is the only Neopets fansite without any affiliates or relationships with other Neopets fansites, which begs the question of whether this can only be attributed to Kiko and his inexperienced mod & art team.

Hello all. So I got artistically worked up enough to write the next installment in this series. Though this isn't for the contest I mentioned in my previous post. This one is just for me. I hope you enjoy it.
Also - this script is okay for monetization
Speakers: -- Elaina -- Classmates (mutliple voices) -- Lucinda
Synopsis: It's your first day at a magical university, and before you can get started attending classes and making friends, you have to take a special course in "Vampire History and Ethics." That's right, your a "vampire," the only human one in your class-- but what that word means, and what you actually are, are two entirely different things. That is why this class exists, it's meant to teach you the truth about vampires, and make you aware of all the resources the university has prepared for you.
Elaina: Come on, sweety; don't be shy, we're all friends here.
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Still feeling flustered? Well, how about you start by saying "Hi" to the class, and telling us your name?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: See, that wasn't so hard! Say "Hi" back, everybody!
Classmates: Hi!
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Ah, I think I just made it worse. I want to feel bad-- but look at those cheeks! All nice and rosey! Ooh, you are just a delight!
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Ah-- (sigh) You're right, my dear; I shouldn't keep teasing you like this. I apologize.
[Two heeled footsteps]
Elaina: (Clearing throat) So, since we've all gotten a good look at you now, why don't you tell us all about your family?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: "What do we want to know?" Well, like I said, since you're a human vampire, you must have incredibly strong ties to Lady Valentina; and this in turn, should make you the product of arcane nobility, since magicians of noble houses did their best to keep the bloodlines "pure." With all of that in mind, I would imagine that you have a lot you could share with us.
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: You still don't understand why you'd be nobility? Really? Okay... Let me put it another way. Those born with abnormally large amounts of magical potential, are what you and I refer to today as "high borns." And in eons past, these same individuals, in an attempt to hold onto their strong connection to the arcane, decided that they, and their children, would only marry other high borns. This in turn, led to the creation of noble magic families, and anceint magus clans, like the Parvus. Do you see where I'm going here?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: That's right; your human vampire genes means that your predcessors were not only from the Parvus clan, but that they also married back into the Parvus clan-- after several generations, or that they married other high borns with Parvus clan blood in them. Which makes you both an arcane noble, and a vampire noble, now that I think about it (giggle)
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Um... Sunshine... What's wrong? You look so confused.
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: As far as you know, your families' all "normal?" But, that would be... I mean, the odds are astranomical... Are you sure you're not... Ah-- you know what, I think it's best not to worry about it. Noble are not, I'm sure your family is made up of wonderful people, especially your parents; because after all-- they made you.
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Aw, there's that blush!
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Right, right, I promised I wouldn't tease (clearing throat). Since I've already spoken so much today, why don't we open the floor again for questions?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Yes, questions about you; precious. That is why I called you up here, after all, so we could learn more about you. And before you can refuse-- who wants to ask the first question?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Yes, Miss Mina, go ahead and ask your question!
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Um, that's more of a vampire question than a personal one, but I'll answer it as much as I can. In short, no; being a vampire doesn't mean you'll get an otherworldly eye color. We know that, genetically, all vampires are doomed to have poor vision; but this predisposition has no bearing when it comes to the color of our eyes. So when it comes to this cutie here, their eyes are abnormally pretty because they just so happened to be born with pretty eyes... (Wistful sigh)... Must be nice. Sweet thing, tell us, did you get those eyes from someone in your family?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: No? So that eye color is entirely unique to you. You really are one in a million.
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: You're right, sweetpea, I should focus. Um, who else has a question?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: You, Miss Francesca; go for it!
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Oh, that's a fair question. I'm sure that many of us are all ninth, or even tenth generation students of Amortis University, seeing as how this school was founded hundreds of years ago, as place for magical beings to gather. So with that said, are your parents alumni of this school, sweetheart?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: They're... not?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: You come from a small town, where there is no higher form of education, so out of everyone in your family-- you're the only one who has been to Amortis? Huh... why don't we take one last question?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Uhh... yes, you; Mr. Noel!
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Huh... I don't know how well our speaker will be able to answer that question, since it's less of a question and more of a "show and tell," but... Do you have any "cool" vampire heirlooms in your family, cutie?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: You think you do? What do you mean?
[Brief Pause] [Jingle jangle of a chain necklace]
Elaina: Oh my! That's... beautiful! May I take a closer look?
[Two heeled steps forward]
Elaina: Incredible. Where did you get this?
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Your Grandfather gave it to you when you were little? Amazing. It almost looks like a magus family crest, but... I don't recognize it. I mean; Dragons, Flowers, and Swords, are all fairly common when it comes to family crests, but I've never seen them put together like this. A Dragon, standing over an Iris, almost like he's protecting it... and this Iris. Normally, Iris petals are white, but the tips of these petals are pink... Then there's the sword. It's not piercing the dragon through, but rather, standing beind him. And that would suggest, a call to arms...? I've never seen anything so strange.
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Hm? Oh, sorry-- sweet thing; I bet you've had enough of me breathing your air. (Clears throat) You know, I have a friend who works in the Department of History on campus, and I bet she can tell us where that pendant comes from. She's really good like that when it comes to old relics. So... if you don't mind... could I maybe take a picture of you? It's just to show my friend the pendant, nothing else, I promise.
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: Thank you, dear. Let me just...
[Camera phone snapshot]
Elaina: There. Perfect! And with that, I think we're done for today. Thanks again to our wonderful volunteer. Another round of applause for them, please!
[Brief applause]
Elaina: (Giggling) And now-- Off to the diner!
[Hoots and hollers] [Chairs moving] [Sound of footsteps] [Fade out]
--- Transition to new scene ---
[Night-time ambience] [Owl hooting. Cicadas. Etc.]
[Series of heeled footsteps] [Sound of a creaky door opening] [Sound of door closing] [Night-time ambience ceases]
[Sound of heeled footsteps continue and echo down a hallway, briefly, but then stop]
Elaina: (With echo) Burr... It's always so cold in this building... And why is it always so dark?
[Sounds of hands rubbing together] [Heeled footsteps continue]
Elaina: (Calling out /Still echoing) Lucy...? Are you here...? It's me, Elaina...!
[Brief Pause]
Elaina: (To herself) I swear, if you fail to recognize me, and blast me with ice magic, again; I am going to wrap you up in my webs, and leave you hanging upside down for a wee--
[Fires sudden spring to life]
Elaina: (Shrieks/Gasps)
[Echo effect Ends]
Lucinda: (Chuckling softly)
Elaina: Ugh, Lucinda-- How could you!
Lucinda: My-my-my, what an itsy-bitsy spider; so jittery and jumpy, I nearly mistook it for a flea.
Elaina: Ha-ha-ha, very funny Lu. Now float your magical behind down here so I can strangle you!
Lucinda: (Chuckles)
[Magical effects] [Sound of several heeled footsteps] [Rustling sounds as the two women hug]
Elaina: (Playfully Pouting) You scared me.
Lucinda: I know. That was kind of the point.
[Sound of Elaina smacking Lucinda's arm]
Lucinda: Ow.
Elaina: That's what you get for playing tricks! And speaking of greivances, would it kill you to install some proper lighting in here? I'm half demon spider and I can barely see past my nose.
Lucinda: Meh-- not happening.
Elaina: Why? You're the head of this Department!
Lucinda: Remember how you just complained about how cold it was?
Elaina: Yes?
Lucinda: Well, imagine how much colder it would be with normal lightbulbs, instead of my arcane fire magic.
Elaina: Huh...
Lucinda: Yeah.
Elaina: But... it's still freezing in here.
Lucinda: Because it needs to be. Relics and artifacts don't hold up well in the heat. The excess moisture alone in environments like that, would cause half of the books in this building to fall apart.
Elaina: (Burr)... Okay, you win... cold is good for books... (Burr)... but not for bugs.
Lucinda: I told you to wear a jacket in here.
Elaina: I know. I just keep forgetting to bring one.
Lucinda: Hmm, I guess it can't be helped. You only have two working braincells, after all, and I know that one them is always getting distracted by all the pretty lights and colors.
Elaina: (Chuckling) Remind me why we're friends again?
Lucinda: Because my snark is endearing?
Elaina: Hmm, believe it or not, it actually is.
Lucinda: (Sarcastic) Yeah... I'm actually so endearing, that my best friend rarely comes to visit me.
Elaina: (Guilty hiss) About that... I'm sorry, Lu. You know I love you, it's just, I get so caught up with all of these board meetings and paperwork; and I just got a fresh cloud of vampires for the year. I know that's no excuse, but I need you to know that I--
Lucinda: Elaina; Elaina, It's fine... I promise I'm not mad.
Elaina: You're not...?
Lucinda: No. I have been a bit bored, recently, but that's not on you. That's just the nature of my department.
Elaina: Now that you mention it, I feel like you're the only person I ever see in here.
Lucinda: That's just how it goes. Every artifact, tome, and relic you see-- has already been studied, cataloged, and organized; in alphabetical order. So unless someone gives us a new piece of old junk-- which is rare, or unless someone wants to look at the junk we currently have in stock-- and it's way too early in the year for that, then there really isn't a need for more than one person to be here.
Elaina: That sounds lonely, Lu.
Lucinda: Boring, not lonely. Besides...
[Punch in the arm sound]
Elaina: Ow!
Lucinda: I can't be lonely, not when memories of you gushing over your students still lives in my head, rent free.
Elaina: Aww, Lucy!
[Sound of rustling as Elaina hugs Lucinda]
Lucinda: (Sarcastically) Ah, okay-- that's enough. This is too much physical touch for one day! Help! Someone! I do not consent! I do not consent!
Elaina: (Giggling) Okay, okay, I'll let go.
Lucinda: Thank you.
Elaina: Speaking of my kids, there's something I want you to look at.
[Sounds of rustling as Elaina goes through her purse]
Lucinda: Oh? Did one of your students bring something interesting to show and tell?
[Rustling stops]
Elaina: No! But also-- yes...? I think? Anyways, we didn't have show and tell!
[Rustling continues]
Lucinda: (Sarcastically and teasingly) You sure?
Elaina: (Almost in a singing voice) Stop distracting me!
Lucinda: (Almost in a singing voice) No promises.
Elaina: Just one second... Ah-ha! Found it.
[Rustling stops]
Elaina: Now let me just...
[Sound of buttons on a phone being pressed]
Elaina: Here, look at this!
Lucinda: Let's see... Wow, this one's really cute. They're a little on the young side, but I think you could make it work with the in-laws.
Elaina: Huh? Wha-- No! That's not why I showed you my phone.
Lucinda: It isn't?
Elaina: Ugh... The pendant, Lu! The pendant!
Lucinda: Okay, but; wouldn't it have made more sense to get a closeup shot of the necklace? That should be the only important thing in the picture, after all.
Elaina: Never mind all of that, just look at the screen.
Lucinda: (Chuckling/Jovial) Oh E, you never cha-- (Gasp)
Elaina: Um... Lucy...?
Lucinda: (Serious) You said this was one of your students?
Elaina: Yes...?
Lucinda: (Serious) When was this picture taken?
Elaina: I... I don't...
Lucinda: Elaina! When was this picture taken?
Elaina: Ear-Earlier today... During my afternoon class...
Lucinda: (Steadying breath) Okay, so besides you and me; how many people got a look at that pendant?
Elaina: Well... This student showed off their necklace to the entire class.
Lucinda: You're joking!
Elaina: What? What's the big deal? And why are you acting so weird?
Lucinda: (Sigh) Elaina... this is bad... this is very, very bad.
Elaina: What's bad? My student, their crest, or the fact that people saw it?
Lucinda: All of it! We need to... (Deep breath).... We need to handle this, quietly, before the powers that be start descending upon the campus.
Elaina: I still don't understand what the problem is. Do you recognize this pendant?
Lucinda: In a way, yes. I've never actually seen one these before, but I know a few things about them, thanks to the poem surrounding the Coward's Crest.
Elaina: The Coward's Crest? Is that was this is called?
Lucinda: Yes. And the poem incscibed upon the back apparently tells a story. If I recall, the poem goes something like this... "The child of dragons pines for a lonely flower; and in giving his life, he watched it bloom. Cursed petals, cast yourselves into the tempest; may you forever remain-- scattered. Shadows comes to avenge themselves for the heart of their broken caster. In keeping watch, may my fortunes remain out of sight."
Elaina: ...That's it...?
Lucinda: Yep, that should be all of it.
Elaina: Seriously? That poem tells us nothing!
Lucinda: It tells you nothing.
Elaina: You're telling me you understand it?
Lucinda: More than you do, at least.
Elaina: (Scoffs) Okay... And?
Lucinda: And I think you need to delete that picture from your phone.
Elaina: Wha-- how is that important right now?
Lucinda: I'll explain later. Now delete the picture.
Elaina: Lu, I don't--
Lucinda: Delete it!
Elaina: Okay, okay.
[Sound of buttons on a phone being pressed]
Elaina: There; done. Now what?
Lucinda: Now we need to go pay your "student" a visit.
Elaina: Lu, it's the middle of the night! And my class and I just got back from Joey's.
Lucinda: Joey's?
Elaina: Yeah.
Lucinda: Since when do you have the money to take your entire class to Joey's?
Elaina: Umm....
Luciana: You swipped Durandal's card again, didn't you?
Elaina: No...? Okay, fine-- I did. But I did it for justice!
Lucinda: (In exasperation) Elaina... there are about a thousand different ressons I should scold you right now, and there are a million different ways that I could go about it, but we don't have the time. (Sigh) When and where are you seeing the kid next?
Elaina: Well, today's monday, so... the day after tomorrow?
Lucinda: Too long, make it sooner.
Elaina: Uh-- How am I supposed to "make it sooner?"
Lucinda: Make a house call.
Elaina: A house call? I'm a teacher Lu, not a doctor!
Lucinda: Well if we don't get to this freshman fast enough, they're definitely gonna need one.
Elaina: Is the truth surrounding the pendant really that bad?
Lucinda: If I'm interpreting the poem right, then yes. And if I'm wrong, things are probably even worse. But we don't have the luxury of sitting around and doing nothing anymore. Let's go.
Elaina: Where?
Lucinda: To your place.
Elaina: What? Why?
Lucinda: So you can start pulling files on every single one of your students, and so I can make some coffee to keep us awake while you do it. Now move it.
Elaina: Lu-- Ah! Okay, okay, you don't have to shove!
[Sound of regular footsteps and heeled footsteps begin to sound, and then continue briefly, until they fade out]
[END]

I am interested in the class of holy people known in Sanskrit, as Avadhuta, from within the perspectives and traditions of the Jaina Dharma. I was first introduced to the Sanskrit term "avadhuta", whilst doing japa-mala sadhana in the Gaudiya Vaishnava tradition as a brahmachari, where it is part of the Panchatattva Mantra, chanted prior to the Gaudiya Tradition's Maha Mantra, and refers to Sri Nityananda, one of the intimate associates of Sri Chaitanya.
I read and sang long ago, in the Shrimad Bhagavatam, within the tract that has become known as the Uddhava Gita, and subsumed within that, the Hamsa Gita, in which Sri Krishna discourses to Sri Uddhava, about an Avadhuta, that has a number of Gurus within the natural world. Since, I read and sung it long ago and studied it intensively, it has become quite popular, and there are now a few English renderings, and a lot of YouTube lectures discussing it. I found out that tradition holds that the Avadhuta in the Uddhava Gita is Sri Dattatreya, though is not named as such. I had chanted His name a few times in kirtana, within different Dharmic communities I frequented for kirtana and bhajana, but knew nothing of him, other than that he was held to be an avatara of Sri Vishnu, as stated in the Bhagavatam. So, I researched and read all I could find on Him.
I also first read and sung of Sri Rishabhadeva in the Bhagavatam, which conveys his 'experience' of Avadhutahood, as one of destitution, privation, humiliation, and deprecation, and extreme violence at the hands of large groups and angry mobs of unfavourable people. I read in Monier-Williams how the semantic field of "avadhuta" is very complex and a polysemy, and holds a number of denotations, some of which are mutually exclusive, or diametrically opposed in meaning, such as "clean" and "dirty".
Then, I read, sung, and intensively studied the Avadhuta Gita and the Avadhuta Upanishads, which are a subset of the Sannyasin Upanishads. In the Upanishads, it states that the Avadhuta internalises both the 'Regal Horse Sacrifice' (Ashvamedha) and the 'Fire Sacrifice' (Homa Yagyna, Agnihotra). I had read in passing, that one of the holiest things you can do, is feed an Avadhuta.
I read, sung and studied the traditional Hatha Yoga texts, that describe that the pinnacle stage of Yoga, is that of an Avadhuta. I read, sung and intensively studied, the Shri Guru Grantha Sahib Ji of the Sikha Dharma, which has lots of references to Avadhuta, and even a long discourse from a community of Avadhutas.
I chanted that Sri Shiva was an Avadhuta, as stated in the Bhagavatam. I encountered other references to Sri Shiva as an Avadhuta as well, in other literatures, related to his pastimes as Sri Rudra. Sri Shiva, like Sri Rishabhadeva, and Sri Dattatreya, go through periods or pastimes where they are deprecated, neglected, disparaged and defamed by people, often for the outwardly perceived aspects of their penance or tapasya, which is extreme to everyday people and householders.
Back to Sri Nityananda the Avadhuta, who is deprecated, disparaged and defamed by other swamis or renunciates in the Sri Chaitanya Charitamrita, and other medieval texts, for being too beautiful, too opulent, and too finely dressed for a renunciate.
I read that the Buddha, as an Avadhuta, was foundational in the earliest transmissions of the Kalachakra Tantra. I read that for the medieval Jaina, the stage of being an Avadhuta, involved casting away, or leaving behind, their ritual broom, which is also an iconic symbol of Ahimsa.
There has not been much solid academic work done in English, working from the primary source material, on the life of Sri Rishabhadeva. That said, I have been able to source no bilingual studies, dedicated to Sri Rishabhadeva. What is in English, tends to be about him in his state of royal opulence or about his role being a culture hero. Sri Rishabhadeva's symbol is a Bull and also, the Bull-headed-Yaksha. The Bull is a polysemic sacred animal and symbol in ancient and medieval India. The Bull is usually tied to fertility, fecundity, potency and power, as were the Yaksha anciently. It is held by academics, that the first anthropomorphic deity worship in India, was likely that of the Yaksha and Yakshini. Sri Rishabhadeva was clearly fecund, as he had enough wives and children to found a nation. In other literature, such a fecund and fertile male propensity and quality, is referred to as being a Prajapati. I have read of it in innumerable texts. Anyway, that was before Sri Rishabhadeva became a renunciate, and whilst being renounced, went into the state and stage of being an Avadhuta, and renounced all that. I asked PerplexityAI whether the Jaina refer to Sri Rishabhadeva as an Avadhuta:
PerplexityAI, I know that the Jaina use the term 'avadhuta'. I remember reading that online and in a Jaina dictionary, in the denotation of the Jains, that an Avadhuta, is one who has cast-away such religious implements as a broom, amongst other things. But, I don't know the significance of this to the Jaina. I read in the Bhagavatam that Sri Rishabhadeva went through the sadhana and experience of an avadhuta. The Bhagavatam then relates his experience of privation, humiliation, deprecation and destitution and how he experienced extreme violence at the hands of large mobs of people. Researching the term Avadhuta in Monier-Williams, there are a number of denotations, some contradictory and mutually exclusive. Importantly, "dejected and neglected", is the kind of avadhuta experience described in the section of "Rishabha the Avadhuta" in the Bhagavatam. Do the Jains refer to Rishabhadeva as an Avadhuta?
Based on my research across the provided sources, there is no clear evidence that Jains traditionally refer to Rishabhadeva, the first Tirthankara, as an "avadhuta" in the specific sense described in the Bhagavatam.
The key points are:

1. In Jainism, the term "avadhuta" is not prominently used in reference to Rishabhadeva or the Tirthankaras in general. The sources do not mention this term in relation to Rishabhadeva.
   
2. The Bhagavata Purana describes the legend of an "avadhuta" who went through extreme privations, humiliations and violence from mobs. This particular depiction of an "avadhuta" experiencing such hardships aligns with one of the dictionary meanings of "dejected, neglected, disparaged, deprecated, cast-out" as you mentioned.
   
3. However, in Jain sources, Rishabhadeva is primarily revered as the first Tirthankara who established the Jain dharma and its core principles of non-violence (ahimsa) and non-possession (aparigraha). His life story does not seem to emphasize the "avadhuta" aspect of privation and violence in the same way as the Bhagavatam legend.
   
4. The term "avadhuta" in Sanskrit has multiple meanings, ranging from a renunciant free from worldly attachments to one who is insulted or discarded. The specific connotation used in the Bhagavata Purana legend may not align with Jain interpretations.
   

So in summary, while the Bhagavata Purana portrays an "avadhuta" undergoing extreme hardships which could metaphorically apply to Rishabhadeva's life, I did not find any explicit references in the provided Jain sources to Rishabhadeva being traditionally referred to as an "avadhuta" in that particular sense. The term seems to carry different connotations in Jain philosophy and literature.
Citations: [1] What is Avadhuta? - Definition from Yogapedia https://www.yogapedia.com/definition/5246/avadhuta [2] Rishabhadeva, Ṛṣabhadeva, Rishabha-deva: 5 definitions https://www.wisdomlib.org/definition/rishabhadeva [3] Chapter 7 - The Legend of the Avadhūta and his Preceptors https://www.wisdomlib.org/hinduism/book/the-bhagavata-purana/d/doc1128979.html [4] Avadhuta, Avadhūta, Avadhūtā: 23 definitions - Wisdom Library https://www.wisdomlib.org/definition/avadhuta [5] Rishabhanatha - Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rishabhanatha [6] Way of the Avadhuta, The Phase of Ultimate Detachment https://www.exoticindiaart.com/article/avadhuta/ [7] Avadhutarupa, Avadhūtarūpa, Avadhuta-rupa: 1 definition https://www.wisdomlib.org/definition/avadhutarupa [8] Was Rishabha, the first tirthankar of Jainism, an incarnation of Lord ... https://hinduism.stackexchange.com/questions/9049/was-rishabha-the-first-tirthankar-of-jainism-an-incarnation-of-lord-vishnu-or [9] This is Kali yuga. - Srila Prabhupada Lila https://srilaprabhupadalila.org/read/1410 [10] Avadhuta means - Vaniquotes https://vaniquotes.org/wiki/Avadhuta_means [11] (PDF) Historicity of Jain Tirthankar Rishabhnatha - ResearchGate https://www.researchgate.net/publication/373489698_Historicity_of_Jain_Tirthankar_Rishabhnatha [12] 29. Importance of Bhagavata Purana and Vishnu Purana https://ebooks.inflibnet.ac.in/icp05/chapteimportance-of-bhagavata-purana-and-vishnu-purana/ [13] Avadhuta - Vaniquotes https://vaniquotes.org/wiki/Avadhuta [14] Do any Hindu Scriptures talk about Mahavira or any other Jain ... https://hinduism.stackexchange.com/questions/59245/do-any-hindu-scriptures-talk-about-mahavira-or-any-other-jain-tirthankaras [15] What Srimad Bhagavatam says about the Avadhuta Who had 24 ... https://hinduismwayoflife.com/2018/02/07/how-to-learn-wisdom-from-nature-what-srimad-bhagavatam-says-about-the-avadhuta-who-had-24-gurus/ [16] Dattatreya - Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dattatreya [17] Rishabha (Hinduism) - Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rishabha_%28Hinduism%29 [18] Meaning of "Bhagavata Purana - VedaPurana Hindu Encyclopedia https://vedapurana.org/single.php?s=664&word=Bhagavata+Purana%3E [19] Dattatreya – The Avadhuta - Hindu Scriptures https://www.hinduscriptures.com/gods/devta/dattatreya-the-avadhuta/819/
I note that few of the traditional sources on the life of Sri Rishabhadeva have been translated well into English and none of them recently, and none in bilingual editions. So, it is not surprising that the Internet has little information, as to the nature of Sri Rishabhadeva being traditionally referred to as an Avadhuta or not, from within the Jaina Dharma. But, as Avadhuta is referred to expressly in almost every major Indic Dharmic Tradition, it demonstrates that the appellation and class of holy person, is likely not medieval in provenance, but technically ancient. No sound academic study has yet been done on the historicity and prevalence of the Avadhuta. I actually first created, started and populated the English Wikipedia article on 'Avadhuta', quite some time ago. It has changed significantly since I last edited it. Lots of citations have been lost. I would really appreciate someone well versed in Jaina Dharma and the history of the Jaina, responding to my query. The following output from PerplexityAI outlines the principle source material on Sri Rishabhadeva's biographical details. I would appreciate people who have read the originals, in the original languages and scripts, responding to my query:
Is there a bilingual edition of the biography of Rishabhadeva that includes primary source material?
Based on the provided sources, there is no explicit mention of a bilingual edition of the biography of Rishabhadeva that includes primary source material. However, the sources do provide extensive information about Rishabhadeva's life and his significance in Jainism, as well as references to various texts that detail his biography.

Key Points from the Sources

1. Primary Texts Mentioning Rishabhadeva:
   
   • Ādi purāṇa: A 9th-century Sanskrit poem detailing the life of Rishabhadeva and his two sons, with a 10th-century Kannada commentary by Adikavi Pampa [1].
   • Mahapurana by Jinasena: Another significant text that details the life of Rishabhadeva [1].
   • Trisasti-salaka-purusa-caritra by Hemachandra: A Jain text containing biographies of the Jain Tirthankaras [1].
   • Kalpa Sutra: A Jain text with biographies of the Tirthankaras [1].
   • Jambudvipa-prajnapti: Another Jain text mentioning Rishabhadeva [1].
   • Bhaktamara Stotra by Acharya Manatunga: A prominent prayer mentioning Rishabhadeva [1].
2. Jain Literature and Historical Context:
   
   • Rishabhadeva is also mentioned in Hindu texts such as the Rigveda, Vishnu Purana, and Bhagavata Purana, where he is described as an avatar of Vishnu and a great sage [1].
   • Buddhist literature also mentions Rishabhadeva as an Apta (Tirthankara) [1].
3. Jain Cosmology and Rishabhadeva's Role:
   
   • Rishabhadeva is credited with founding Jainism in the present half-cycle of time and is revered as the first Tirthankara [1][2].
   • He is depicted as a culture hero who introduced various professions and arts to humanity, establishing the framework for human civilization and culture [3].
4. Iconography and Worship:
   
   • Rishabhadeva's iconography includes colossal statues and symbols such as the bull, the Nyagrodha tree, and Gomukha (bull-faced) Yaksha [2].

Conclusion

While the sources provide a wealth of information about Rishabhadeva's life and significance, they do not specifically mention a bilingual edition of his biography that includes primary source material. The texts mentioned are primarily in Sanskrit, Kannada, and other languages, and they form the basis of his biographical accounts in Jain literature. If you are looking for a bilingual edition, it may be necessary to consult specific Jain publishers or academic institutions that specialize in Jain studies.
Citations: [1] Rishabhanatha Facts for Kids https://kids.kiddle.co/Rishabhanatha [2] Rishabhanatha - Wikiwand https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Rishabhanatha [3] Print Preview - Ahimsa Foundation https://www.jainsamaj.org/literature_preview.php?id=NTk2&tab=IG1hc19saXRlcmF0dXJl [4] [PDF] Jaina Bibliography Part 2 https://ia600107.us.archive.org/32/items/JainaBibliographyPart2/Jaina-Bibliography%20Part2_text.pdf [5] Rishabhanatha - Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rishabhanatha [6] Risabha Deva - The Founder of Jainism : Champat Rai Jain https://archive.org/details/RisabhaDeva-TheFounderOfJainism [7] The Caste System - Part I - The Spiritual Hindu https://thespiritualhindu.com/hindu-caste-system/ [8] Full text of "Nine Sacred Recitations Of The Jain Religion ( A Study ... https://archive.org/stream/NineSacredRecitationsOfTheJainReligionAStudyOfTheNineSmaranasAllAspectsAssociate/Nine%20Sacred%20Recitations%20of%20the%20Jain%20Religion%20%28A%20Study%20of%20the%20Nine%20Smaranas%20%26%20All%20Aspects%20Associated%20with%20Them%29%20Vinod%20Kapashi_djvu.txt [9] Rishabhadeva, Ṛṣabhadeva, Rishabha-deva: 5 definitions https://www.wisdomlib.org/definition/rishabhadeva [10] Rishabhanatha Biography - Pantheon.World https://pantheon.world/profile/person/Rishabhanatha [11] Rashtrakuta literature - Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashtrakuta_literature [12] [PDF] Maharishi Santsevi Ji Maharaj - The Jain Foundation https://archive.org/download/radhasoami/RADHA%20SOAMI.raRADHA%20SOAMI%2FOKE%2FEBOOK%2FHarmony-Of-All-Religions.pdf [13] Birth and Abhiseka of Rsabhadeva [Chapter 13] https://www.wisdomlib.org/shop/books/jainism/adipurana-sanskrit-text-with-english-translation/doc234124.html [14] [PDF] History of Ancient and Early Medieval India - Apnaorg.com https://apnaorg.com/books/english/history-of-ancient-and-early-medieval-india/history-of-ancient-and-early-medieval-india.pdf [15] Rishabha (Hinduism) - Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rishabha_%28Hinduism%29 [16] Rsabhadeva took a wife named Jayanti and begot one ... - Vaniquotes https://vaniquotes.org/wiki/Rsabhadeva_took_a_wife_named_Jayanti_and_begot_one_hundred_sons_who_were_as_powerful_and_qualified_as_He_Himself._His_wife_Jayanti_had_been_offered_to_Him_by_Indra,_the_King_of_heaven [17] Rishabhanatha Tirthankara, Jainism, 24th Tirthankara Britannica https://www.britannica.com/topic/Rishabhanatha [18] Puranic chronology of India https://bharatbhumika.blogspot.com/2014/08/puranic-chronology-of-india.html [19] (PDF) Historicity of Jain Tirthankar Rishabhnatha - ResearchGate https://www.researchgate.net/publication/373489698_Historicity_of_Jain_Tirthankar_Rishabhnatha [20] Ancient History HDT (Compiled) PDF - Scribd https://www.scribd.com/document/702119020/Ancient-History-HDT-Compiled-1
What did the broom as a ritual implement mean to the Jains
Based on the information provided in the sources, the broom holds significant ritual and symbolic meaning for Jains as an implement of non-violence (ahimsa), which is a core principle of Jainism.
Here are the key points about the ritual significance of the broom for Jain monks and nuns:

1. Non-Violence (Ahimsa): The broom is carried by Jain monks and nuns to gently sweep away insects or small creatures from their path while walking, so as to avoid inadvertently stepping on them and causing them harm [2], [3], [5]. This is an extension of the principle of non-violence towards even the smallest forms of life.
   
2. Ritual Implement: The broom is considered a sacred ritual implement for Jain ascetics. Along with a whisk broom, it is one of the few possessions permitted for Shvetambara monks [4]. Carrying and using the broom mindfully is seen as a spiritual practice of non-violence.
   
3. Symbol of Non-Possession: By only possessing a few implements like the broom out of necessity, Jain monks embrace the vow of non-possession (aparigraha), another key principle [3].
   
4. Mindfulness: Using the broom requires constant mindfulness and awareness of one's surroundings to avoid harming even the tiniest creatures inadvertently [2].
   
5. Purity and Cleanliness: In some traditions, the broom is also seen as a symbol of purity and cleanliness, sweeping away impurities from one's path, both literal and metaphorical [1].
   

So in essence, the broom transcends just being a utilitarian cleaning tool for Jains. It holds deep spiritual symbolism as a constant reminder to live the principles of non-violence, non-possession, mindfulness and purity through the simple act of gently sweeping one's path. Its ritual usage is an embodiment of the ascetic Jain way of life.
Citations: [1] Brooms & Superstitions Story of Indian crafts and craftsmen - Gaatha https://gaatha.com/brooms-of-india/ [2] TIL Jainist monks are such pacifist that they carry around a ritualistic ... https://www.reddit.com/todayilearned/comments/2vhceo/til_jainist_monks_are_such_pacifist_that_they/ [3] Ahimsā in Jain Rituals - Jainavenue https://jainavenue.org/ahimsa-in-jain-rituals/ [4] Ritual practices and religious institutions - Jainism - Britannica https://www.britannica.com/topic/Jainism/Ritual-practices-and-religious-institutions [5] Jain monks wear mesh over their faces to avoid inhaling insects and... https://www.researchgate.net/figure/Jain-monks-wear-mesh-over-their-faces-to-avoid-inhaling-insects-and-carry-soft-brooms-to_fig1_262855310
So, an Avadhuta in Jainism, historically, was one who left behind, or cast-away, the ritual broom.
Based on the information provided in the sources, the concept of "Avadhutarupa" in Jainism specifically refers to a form of penance or spiritual practice where a religious practitioner discards or casts away certain material implements like the broom.
The key points are:

1. Source [3] defines "Avadhutarupa" as "the penance of the religious who gives himself an unrecognizable form (by discarding his material badge, broom, etc., so as not to do wrong with the doctrine)."
   
2. It states this is a Jain technical term mentioned in the 13th century text "Vividhatirthakalpa" by Jinaprabhasuri, which discusses various Jain pilgrimage sites.
   
3. The act of discarding the broom and other material possessions is seen as a form of penance or vow of non-possession (aparigraha) in Jainism.
   
4. Sources [1], [2], and [4] highlight the significance of the broom itself as a sacred ritual implement for Jain monks and nuns to practice non-violence (ahimsa) by gently sweeping away insects from their path.
   

So in essence, while the broom itself holds immense spiritual significance as a tool of non-violence, the concept of "Avadhutarupa" refers to the act of a Jain renunciant voluntarily discarding or casting away even this sacred broom, as a more extreme form of penance and non-possession.
Therefore, your statement "an Avadhuta in Jainism, historically, was one who left behind, or cast-away, the ritual broom" accurately captures the essence of this Jain spiritual practice and term, based on the information across these sources.
Citations: [1] Brooms & Superstitions Story of Indian crafts and craftsmen - Gaatha https://gaatha.com/brooms-of-india/ [2] TIL Jainist monks are such pacifist that they carry around a ritualistic ... https://www.reddit.com/todayilearned/comments/2vhceo/til_jainist_monks_are_such_pacifist_that_they/ [3] Avadhutarupa, Avadhūtarūpa, Avadhuta-rupa: 1 definition https://www.wisdomlib.org/definition/avadhutarupa [4] Ahimsā in Jain Rituals - Jainavenue https://jainavenue.org/ahimsa-in-jain-rituals/ [5] Ritual practices and religious institutions - Jainism - Britannica https://www.britannica.com/topic/Jainism/Ritual-practices-and-religious-institutions

(There might be a few or more typos cause I didn't proof read. It's noisy here currently.)
*I consider myself as an ambivert. Perhaps it could just be a mental dysfunction that I am not aware of, but even as I enjoy social interactions and try to find every chances to bond with my friends, I am often paranoid with the words I use or the way I talk. Making me come off as quiet and aloof, when in reality, my brain is just struggling to convey my thoughts into a coherent statement rather than a dislike to talking. In chat, where everything could be thought out before delivering the message, people often get surprised on how much more talkative I am as opposed to in real life. I honestly just can't leave a message without making response- even if it's as dry as the sahara dessert, I find ways to continue the conversation until I would notice that the other is no longer interested or is busy.
*I talk to my self alot. Or in other words, I have a rich inner monologue and a vivid imagination, but unfortunately, its a product of my elusive identity that I've lost throughout my development due to expectations being instilled upon me. This trait is instinctual to me now- I observe the way I act and react to certain situations and as much as possible I try to understand it by putting it to coherent words and reflect how much I identify what I concluded. It's not always reliable however- as someone with idols, I exaggerate certain parts of myself or try to mimic those I admire so I could be percieved like my idols do.
*My imagination delves into the macabre. Edgy, yes, but it something I do not pride over and tell lightly even to whom is close to me. I am very aware that topics that tests certain boundaries is something that I should tread carefully, and may be considered as unhealthy if unchecked. But even as much as I entertain it through mediums of art, I constantly remind myself of what should be just fantasy and what is actually reality. My true intentions for such thoughts is not for pleasure, but of genuine curiosity. Particularly, how much can I test the limits of my imagination and render them into fascinating pieces?
*I find it easy to create solutions to problems, but I'm terrible in executing them. It's ironic, when I create plans short term and long term that is neither restrictive nor too carefree- somehow, I still find ways to fuck it up due to paranoia. The constant worrying that "What if I do something wrong and make it worse?" Is like a parasite the I cannot get rid of to the point of forgetting that I'm midway performing an action and just drop it all together. But when I suggest solutions towards other people's problems similar or not, it's always effective in someway. It's frustrating.
*I have a complicated relationship with emotions. I am inexpressive in real life. People have a hard time discerning what I feel cause I don't express it very well, and I've been told that I often look like I percieve everyone as lesser than me from afar. Which does hold truth in some degree, with pride and all- but I actually can't hurt another person even when the situation needs it. I always consider the outcome where everyone benefits and grow- even losing a piece of myself in the process to accommodate to what others expect from me. Though, lately, I've become less attuned with my emotions and I find myself becoming more irritable and intolerant of people getting in my way. I also never form emotionally close bonds with others, not even family. I care about their well-being, i would do my best to upkeep our connection, but the thought of losing them is something I do not worry myself of. My relationships are always coming and going, cause I've learned to think that grieving over them wouldn't create much of an impact for my future. I can choose to be nostalgic over them, but not to feel sorrow over it. I think is mostly because my views clash alot with my environment. They're just not my people, family or peer. So why waste the energy to try and mold myself into someone I'm clearly not?
*My driving force is fear and pride. I hate for others to look down on me and think of me as less or treat me so childishly. I also am very competitive and dislike the thought of anyone else being better than me. If used recklessly, I would've been a toxic person, but its honestly where I find motivation in doing better. When I come in second, it hurts alot, yes. But I don't throw a tantrum over it, I just think to myself "then just do better." And I try no matter how much I stumble. Either way, I really want to be percieved as a strong and reliable figure. I like being the centre of attention. I like vanity and the thought of being admired- and one of my dreams are not born out of passion, but the desire to influence my surroundings and create an admirable name for myself.
*in the contrary, even with my flaws and detachment to my connections and in a way- emotions plus my unwavering sense of pride. I am a dreamer myself. A hopeless romantic even. there's one part of me, where i like to think of myself as an artist who has yet to find their muse. And when I do- I want to dedicate my whole life capturing the essence of my muse. I want to create letters and poems that would convey their radiance with each syllable, to paint in canvases with a picture that tell tales of the emotions they would evoke out of me. And I want to be their biggest supporter. I want to spoil my muse with gifts and affection. I want to pay attention to the very little details of their person and craft perfect dates with them. To make my muse the happiest person in the world, is an accomplishment that nothing could surpass.
*I'm aware that both dreams are idealistic and near impossible. But I don't like the thought of wasting my very potential and not do anything with my hands to create or influence reality. What if I could make a break through? Impact another person's life for the better? These possibilities shouldn't just stay within the recesses of my mind, I need to atleast try and work my way towards it. Even if the process is long and I wouldn't be able to make it- atleast I know I didn't waste my time just dwelling.

Week 3: Villanelles and Ekphrastic Poetry - Lecture and Discussion
Objective: - Explore the structured repetition of villanelles and the visual inspiration of ekphrastic poetry. - Understand the fixed form of villanelles and their emotional impact. - Discuss the interplay between visual art and written expression in ekphrastic poetry.
Day 1: Introduction to Villanelles - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of villanelles. - Explanation of the ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA rhyme scheme.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What intrigues you about the structured repetition of villanelles?
  2. Why is the ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA rhyme scheme significant in villanelles?
  3. Can you think of any famous villanelles or poets known for this style?

Day 2: Analyzing Villanelles - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic villanelles. - Exploration of the emotional impact through repetition.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the repetition in the villanelles contribute to their emotional resonance?
  2. What themes or emotions are effectively conveyed through this structured form?
  3. Share your thoughts on the impact of repetition on the reader.

Day 3: Analyzing Villanelles - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in villanelles. - Exploring the versatility of the form.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern villanelles evolved in terms of themes and structure?
  2. In what ways does the fixed form of a villanelle challenge or enhance creativity?
  3. Share examples of emotions or themes that might work well in a villanelle.

Day 4: Crafting Villanelles - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the first four lines of a villanelle. - Emphasis on creating a strong thematic foundation.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in crafting the first four lines of a villanelle?
  2. How can you establish a strong thematic foundation within this repetition?
  3. Share examples of themes or emotions suitable for a villanelle.

Day 5: Crafting Villanelles - Part 2 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on crafting the final three lines of a villanelle. - Emphasis on creating resolution and impact.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. Why is the final three-line structure crucial in providing resolution in a villanelle?
  2. How can a villanelle evoke a sense of completeness within the repeated lines?
  3. Share and discuss individual villanelles, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft a villanelle focusing on a theme or emotion that lends itself well to repetition.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of crafting the first four lines of your villanelle. How did you establish a strong thematic foundation? 2. How did you approach creating resolution and impact in the final three lines of your villanelle? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting a villanelle?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of villanelles, the ABA rhyme scheme, and the emotional impact of repetition.
Day 6: Introduction to Ekphrastic Poetry - Lecture: - Definition and characteristics of ekphrastic poetry. - Explanation of the relationship between visual art and written expression.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What interests you about the interplay between visual art and poetry in ekphrastic works?
  2. How might visual stimuli enhance or influence the creative writing process?
  3. Can you think of any famous ekphrastic poems or poets known for this style?

Day 7: Analyzing Ekphrastic Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - In-depth analysis of classic ekphrastic poems. - Exploration of how poets respond to visual stimuli.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does the visual inspiration impact the themes and imagery in ekphrastic poetry?
  2. What unique perspectives or insights can arise from responding to visual art?
  3. Share your thoughts on the relationship between the visual and the written in ekphrastic works.

Day 8: Analyzing Ekphrastic Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing modern variations and themes in ekphrastic poetry. - Exploring the diverse ways poets engage with visual art.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How have modern poets expanded the themes and approaches in ekphrastic poetry?
  2. In what ways does the incorporation of visual art broaden the possibilities in written expression?
  3. Share examples of visual art that you believe would inspire compelling ekphrastic poems.

Day 9: Crafting Ekphrastic Poetry - Part 1 - Lecture: - Step-by-step guide on responding to visual art in writing. - Emphasis on capturing the essence and emotion of the artwork.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. What challenges do you anticipate in responding to visual art with written expression?
  2. How can you capture the essence and emotion of an artwork in your ekphrastic poem?
  3. Share examples of artworks that you find particularly inspiring.

Day 10: Crafting Ekphrastic Poetry - Part 2 - Lecture: - Discussing the role of personal interpretation and creativity in ekphrastic poetry. - Exploring the potential for multiple ekphrastic responses to a single artwork.

• Discussion Questions:
  1. How does personal interpretation influence the creative process in ekphrastic poetry?
  2. In what ways can multiple poets respond differently to the same piece of visual art?
  3. Share and discuss individual ekphrastic poems, highlighting successful elements.

Homework Assignment: - Craft an ekphrastic poem in response to a chosen piece of visual art.
Study Guide Questions: 1. Reflect on the challenges of responding to visual art with written expression in your ekphrastic poem. How did you capture the essence and emotion? 2. How did personal interpretation shape your creative process in crafting an ekphrastic poem? 3. What insights did you gain from the process of crafting an ekphrastic poem?
Quiz: Assessment on the understanding of ekphrastic poetry, the relationship between visual art and written expression, and the creative possibilities in responding to visual stimuli.