First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Part 1
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Hello everyone! I wanted to create a post here to share some of my ideas on how to improve some aspects of the adventure, which I believe are lacking in detail and attention. I especially want to improve these things because my players are going to spot some of the weaknesses of the adventure early on, otherwise.
Sorry for the long text ahead! BTW - I am a somewhat newbie DM, with this being my first big campaign. Any comments and suggestions are more than welcome!
There are four main topics I want to either add or improve to the story:

Vecna’s Link

I do quite like the idea of having the PCs linked with Vecna, so much so that I instructed my PCs to create their character's backstory with something that could link them to Vecna. Two players already choose to be the descendants of previous heroes that defeated Vecna early in time (in Die, Vecna, Die! for example) while another chooses to be a former cultist.
I want to explore this further by bringing this to the attention of Vecna himself - at the fight at the end of the quest in Neverwinter (before the story goes to Evernight), the breaking of the ritual will be noticed by him (in some telepathic form, or by having him take control of the leader of the cult in this section). He will be intrigued by how so many individuals that had some relation to him are together in the same plot, and use some of his power to eliminate this minor issue, and turning this into something more interesting for him - by attempting to turn the players into his undead servants.
But this attempt will get the attention of another powerful being: the Raven Queen. Since Vecna is playing so very close to her domain, the Shadowfell, and attempting something she detests, which is raising undead, she uses her power to intercept and stop this - while hiding the truth from Vecna (he will believe he has additional undead in his cult, but bear them no mind - every servant of his is irrelevant).
She guides the player’s souls and bodies back to Shadowfell and tells them she feels Vecna becomes stronger, and will try to attempt something horrid (the ritual hasn’t yet started here, but with the rituals happening with the Cult of Vecna, preparations are being set in place). She also says that her role in this will be limited to saving the players' life - she must see to the protection of her domain and take care of the souls and memories of the damned, and hasn’t clarity on what Vecna is up to, nor where. She gives final advise to players that they must be on their guard, for she managed to keep the PCs alive, but not prevent Vecna’s influence on their lives, forever changed by his attempt (hence - the link).
Again - Ideas on how to improve this whole part are welcome: I feel some pieces are missing to make this a better fulfilling story.
Then, I also want to create different effects to Vecna’s link, either something each of my players has or have them roll a d6 to gain new powers/abilities. I will work on this this week also.
During the adventure, I intend to have the players have visions and dreams of past atrocities Vecna has performed, like his actions in Vecna Lives! (with the gruesome death of the Circle of Eight), the hardships of the people of Citadel Cavitus, the horrid ritual he once tried to be reborn into (both from Vecna Reborn) and his power during the battle in Sigil, once he tried to take over the multiverse (as described in Die, Vecna, Die!).
But wouldn't Vecna feel this link with the players, you may ask? Well, not in this case. I want to link to be something trivial for Vecna, something he gives to his undead servants so they can travel across the multiverse, past his influence. I am adding this now, due to the second topic I want to improve:

Why the Wizards Three are kept in Sigil waiting? Or, how the multiverse has a problem - interplanar travels are blocked by Vecna.

I felt that the Wizards Three giving the players a fetch quest of such importance, after being the “answer to their prayers”, and just standing there waiting for their return, felt… A bit weird.
We are talking about three of the greatest magical casters of the universe of DnD, one of them (Mordenkainen - if he was the real one) HAD suffered losses of close friends to Vecna. I find it strange that they would just… wait for the calamity to happen while simple adventurers take the burden of saving the multiverse.
So, a fix to this: Vecna’s ritual is disturbing the ability of any individual to travel between planes - unless they have Vecna’s link.
So the Wish made by the Wizard’s work! It gives them the answer of the only possible party of people that Vecna can’t control, and that can go after him and any other magical artefact to stop his ritual.
But really, is the Rod of Seven Parts the only thing that can stop him? Would Tasha and Alustriel really believe in this plan given by Kasdenkainen?
This question made me think of the next topic…

How to use the artefacts of Vecna and Kas, alongside the Rod

I want the Rod to be the key that unlocks the Sword of Kas. Where exactly, I’m not sure. Maybe the Sword is with Miska, somehow? (Would appreciate ideas here :) )
For me, Kas wants to take over Vecna’s ritual and defeat him once and for all. In his twisted mind, he did this once - with his sword. He NEEDS IT BACK. It’s his sole objective, and the closest the PCs could be to achieving this, the more manic Kas could become and the more broken would his disguise appear.
Tasha would agree to this plan, I believe - she could be the one to mention that theories appeared over the years that the Sword contains part of Vecna’s soul - therefore, could be the only thing to eliminate him once and for all.
She and Alustriel could also hint that some cultists seem very keen on finding other artefacts linked to the Whispered God - the Hand, the Eye and the Book of Vile Darkness. If Vecna acquires his artefacts, he would be much more powerful, and hardly anyone would be a challenge.
This would create a race against time - the Rod would be important as both a magical artifact against Vecna, as well as a key to part of his demise. The PCs would have to find clues about where the other artefacts are - which would become clear with the presence of the Cult in several places they would visit.
I want the Eye and/or the Book to be with Acererak and the hand to be in Avernus.
I don’t know how I would work with my players who want to use the artefacts themselves - Ideas here are also very welcome!
Mentioning Avernus brings me to my last topic…

Mordenkainen and Kas - would the famous wizard here be out there “doing his thing” with the multiverse in danger?

Yeah, I don’t think so. Mordenkainen might have been quite self-centered in some past stories, but he always wanted to find balance in the universe.
So much so that, one of his last appearances in 5e, is during the Curse of Strahd - he becomes a Mad Mage after not being able to stop the vampire lord’s reign. The players in this particular adventure can aid him in restoring his sanity, and he will move on travelling the multiverse and stopping by Avernus, in his Tower of Urm, to study the effects of the Nine Hells in the schools of magic and (again) to ensure the balance of the universe.
I want to try to bring his tower to Avernus as well. I want the players to find him there, bring this confusion between them - Mordenkainen knows he is unable to travel, doesn’t know for sure why, but has seen a bigger activity of Vecna’s cultists even in the Hells and the players believe he is in Sigil, with the other two wizards.
I intend this to be the revelation that Kasdenkainen is a fraud - but he is ready for this.
I want the confrontation back in Sigil to happen with either the defeat or escape of Kas - If the players would still want his sword, they would have to face Miska, or something similar later on - and the rest of the story proceed as suggested.
I still need to read the book in much more detail to add all these things. Will get to it right after here, as I should have already received access.
Thank you very much for reading all of this! Feel free to add new ideas and use my own in your table. I am also at the Discord server under the same username.

I came across this Quora answer for "Why does Kerala Government impose an economically worthless Malayalam in Kerala schools instead of making it as an optional language because a Malayali cannot get lucrative employment by learning Malayalam?" from this post.
The answer is a lengthy one, and may seem irrelevant to the title "How is time perceived in Telugu?", but please keep reading, I have my questions at the end of the post...

This question reminds me of a story of the Roman emperor Vespasian. One day, an inventor visited the emperor and showed him the blueprint of a mechanism that could transport columns and beams to a construction site quickly and without any manual labor. This brilliant machine could've kickstarted industrial revolution 1700 years before it actually happened. But much to the inventor's shock, Vespasian turned him down, saying “my people need jobs, our slaves need jobs. If the machine does all the work, our people will be jobless. Our slaves would get free time to organize themselves and would start revolts”.
Vespasian feared that the new technology was ‘economically worthless', as it would make people and slaves jobless and send the country into total chaos. In short, he was technologically shortsighted. The inability to foresee what technology could bring to his people in the long run pulled him down. He was deluded by the fragile nature of the economy and had no idea how to rebuild it if this revolutionary mechanism would be allowed to operate.
This was the reason why ancient Rome was never industrialized, despite having a lot of excellent inventors and engineers. Those in power were worried about the unemployment a sudden revolutionary idea would create and failed to accept how beneficial this would be for the people in the long run.
The reason for narrating this story is that it is remarkably similar to the dilemma mentioned in the question. Vespasian thought, “allocating resources to inventive technology instead of manual labor is economically worthless since people and slaves won't get lucrative jobs”.
Replace ‘manual labor' by ‘English' and ‘inventive technology' by ‘Malayalam', and you get our question.
“Allocating resources to English instead of Malayalam is economically worthless since people and slaves won't get lucrative jobs”.
Likewise, English persists as the language of official usage for most jobs not because Malayalam is incompetent or inefficient, but because the current ‘system' revolves around English. That makes Malayalam seem like a burden on students, with no economic worth. An engineer who does all his learning from foreign textbooks and uses English terminology has no lucrative use of Malayalam. A software developer who needs to know all computer-related terms in English has no use of Malayalam. The same goes for an accountant, a doctor, a clerk, and pretty much all ‘white collar' jobs you can think of. Even those who might benefit from learning Malayalam like historians or linguists might consider English infinitely more useful since most of the written books and research work on those fields are in English. There is enough reason for people to think that spending government resources for teaching Malayalam is worthless like how Vespasian thought that appreciating technology was worthless.
But time proved Vespasian wrong, although by sheer luck. Christianity replaced Paganism as the dominant religion in Europe. Since slavery is forbidden in Christianity, European kingdoms started banning it. Feudalism and class based labor also started declining as the plague wiped out significant fractions of each class and as the military shifted from armies to professional fighters, thereby weakening the nobility’s hold on power. With the lack of a powerful ruling class to impose and manage heavy manual labor, the stage was finally set for a technological revolution and the industrial revolution finally began in Europe, 1700 years after Vespasian.
Some of you might be doubtful of comparing the case of English vs Malayalam with manual labor vs automated machines. Are they even comparable in the first place?
Industrial revolution made life easier for people because it freed people from the heavy manual labor and made it possible for them to spend more time for their personal development. Likewise, teaching in Malayalam instead of English would make people engage more with their personal and cultural lives. Teaching lessons of science and history in English forbids Malayalis from using them in their lives. This is because these two languages are different at a fundamental level since they belong to two different language families. If you are a Malayalam speaker and you learn science and history in English, it'll be impossible for you to use them in your daily lives because you conceptualize the world around you in completely different ways while you speak or think in these two languages. In linguistics, this changing of cognitive metaphors while using different languages is known as code-switching.
Let me share my own experience. I studied in Malayalam medium in primary and high school. Hence my way of understanding science and history is through Malayalam's (or Dravidian) cognitive metaphors. Those who study in English or other related languages like German, Persian or Hindi would use the Indo-European cognitive metaphors. Once I started reading books in English, I started to realize how different these are.
Let us take time for example.
How an English speaker views time
Speakers of Indo-European languages like English and Hindi conceptualize time as a long line through which you move at a steady rate. Your past is the segment behind you and your future lies in front of you. Time is a one-dimensional straight line in Indo-European languages (the only exceptions are Italic and Hellenic branches. They see time as a growing volume instead of a long line).
This is why these languages describe the duration of events as either “long” or “short”, which represent the length of a line segment.
Consider the statement “I've been waiting for a long time”.
The italicised part, translated into different Indo-European languages would be:
English (Germanic) : “ long time”
Sanskrit (Indo-Aryan) : “dīrghakāla”
Hindi (Indo-Aryan) : “lambi der”
Persian (Iranian) : “moddat zamân tulâni”
Lithuanian (Baltic) : “ilgas laikas”
Irish (Celtic) : “tamall fada”
All those words indicated with bold letters are synonym for “long”. The same could be observed for events with less duration. All these languages use the adjective “short”, just as what you might expect from their way of perceiving time as a horizontal line.
Hence many words describing events associated with time like emotions in these languages are derived from roots that mean “long” or “short”. The English words “longing” (from ‘long') and “hope” (ultimately from Greek ‘kúptō' (to bend forward) ) are examples.
(By the way, there are two slightly different variants of the Indo-European concept of time. This video explains it beautifully with a riddle)
.
How a Malayalam speaker views time
Speakers of Dravidian languages like Malayalam have a much more sophisticated three-dimensional view of time. For Malayalis, the passage of time is vertically upwards, not to the front. Also, time isn't a single line here. Multiple vertical lines of progression of time arise from the two dimensional patches of land. In Malayalam, this two-dimensional ‘area' or patch of time is known as “pāḍu” (പാട്) which literally means “a bounded area” (hence the adjectives like “orupāḍu” and “appāḍe”). Related events that take place at a particular location are visualized as multiple vertical lines growing from that patch. A different place or a different person would be visualized as a different patch with its own vertical growths.
You have to be a Dravidian speaker to fully understand this. Imagine a set of events.
If it is the same event occurring over and over again, it is perceived as looping around a small vertical segment over and over again. In Malayalam language, this corresponds to the adjective ഒത്തിരി (ottiri) - literally “many turns/loops” (root ‘tiru' - turn/spin).
If that set of events represent a growing process or emotion, it is perceived as a line that grows vertically. In Malayalam, the adjective in this case is ഏറെ (ēṟe) - literally “climbing up/ascending” or വളരെ (vaḷare) -literally “growing upwards”.
If those events are concurrent yet different, they are perceived as multiple vertical growths originating from the same patch on the plane. In Malayalam, the adjective is ഒരുപാടു (orupāḍu) - literally “an area of” (‘pāḍu' - a bounded area).
If those events are completely independent, then they exist in different patches and the adjective പല (pala) is used.
In short, a Malayalam speaker has four different ways of translating something like “a long time”, depending on how the person spent that time. If they spent that time by counting sea waves, they might say “ottiri nēram”. If the time was spent, say, by building a sand castle, they might say “ēṟe nēram”, and if they were doing many different things, they might say “orupāḍu nēram”.
This is true in the case of other Dravidian languages as well. For example, in Kannada, the word ಪಿರಿ (piri) - heightened/advanced - (now mostly displaced by the loanword ಬಹಳ (bahaḷa)) would correspond to Malayalam “ēṟe” and ತುಂಬಾ (tumbā) - literally, a crowd of/amassed - would correspond to Malayalam “orupāḍu”. A Kannada speaker would say “bahaḷa samaya” for the time spent for building a sand castle and “tumbā samaya” for the time spent for doing multiple things
(However, in some Dravidian languages, this way of visualizing time has been replaced by the Indo-European linear time because of Sanskrit imperialism. But that is a different story.)
In short, as a Malayalam speaker, I conceptualize my entire life in front of me. My brain visualizes all the places I've been to and the people I've interacted with as different patches (pāḍu), each one having multiple vertical segments that grow or add a new one each time I visit again. However, when I speak or learn in English or Hindi, it is completely changed and I'm forced to visualize time and events to be part of a long line with my past behind me and my future in front of me. This switching of conceptual metaphors is known as code-switching in cognitive linguistics.
This means that I as a bilingual describe an event that happened the day before yesterday as “two days back” in English and “raṇḍụ nāḷ munpu” in Malayalam. Here, “munpu” means “frontside” and back means, backside. For an English speaker, the past lies as the line segment behind them (back), and for a Malayalam speaker, the past is a patch that is much further to the front than the one they are in at present. Notice how the concept of past flips completely with the change of language.
Think of English's concept of time as a long railway track with a train (representing the person) passing through it and Malayalam’s concept of time as a sugarcane field with multiple patches of land having a bunch of upwards growing stems.
The reason for describing all this is to highlight how different the perception of events are in these two languages. And remember that we have considered only time. Nearly all abstract concepts are visualized differently in unrelated languages. A Dravidian’s world is completely different from that of an Indo-European.
Now let us come back to the original question. What happens if a Malayalam speaker is given education only in English? The result is, they could never use the science and history they learn in their personal and cultural lives. Personal and cultural aspects would be pictured in one way and things that they learn at school would be visualized in the other way. This means that all those things would be useful only for earning money or doing research and they would be useless for their personal growth and the cultural development of the society.
In fact, this is exactly what is happening in Kerala now. All those highly educated people conceptualize the world in the Indo-European way thanks to being educated in English or sanskrit-imposed Malayalam while the common people view the world with the classic Dravidian metaphors. This stunts the growth in cultural, political, religious and scientific fileds in Kerala.
Not to mention that English's concept of time is much too simple and inefficient for describing things and when it comes to fields intricately connected to time like history or biological evolution, it often fails miserably. I recently wrote an an answer on how the public perception of evolution is incorrect and horribly misleading. In fact, the visualization of time as a simple long line is one of the reasons for this. This metaphor is much too simple to handle a complex probabilistic theory like evolution.
However, for someone who learned evolution in Malayalam, it would be a much more sophisticated process and it would be easier to visualize it without being misguided. Learning in Malayalam is much more efficient and productive in this case. I consider myself lucky for having had most of my schooling in Malayalam medium thanks to which I routinely apply the things I've learned in all aspects of my life.
So, to summarize,
Malayalam being economically worthless is a reality of the present, but it is not so because Malayalam is inefficient or unproductive in usage. As we saw here, educating in Malayalam is actually necessary for the learned things to be put into practice in life and society. It is just that the current system uses English and a total change would require nothing less than a revolution. Nevertheless, the cost of not educating kids in Malayalam is huge, as it leads to a stagnation in cultural, religious, political, and scientific aspects of Kerala.

--END OF THE ANSWER--
I wanted to share this answer here too and wanted to discuss about its points (specifically how different people view time).
How Telugu language and Telugus view time? Does it differ by dialects? Did Sanskrit influence this part of Telugu? What other things does Telugu perceive in a different manner compared to other languages?

This means that I as a bilingual describe an event that happened the day before yesterday as “two days back” in English and “raṇḍụ nāḷ munpu” in Malayalam. Here, “munpu” means “frontside” and back means, backside.

The only aspect I recognised which I use in Telugu like "rendu dinalu mundu" (Two days ago).

I(32F) am a single mother of two kids (6M and 5m F). I am a single mother by choice (my kids are donor conceived).
I am lucky enough to have a good job (French teacher in a private school), and a paid off house (parents’ life insurance and inheritance).
Before I had either of my kids, I made sure to have a year’s living expenses saved, then I would take a sabbatical to recover from birth, as well as bond with my kids. While on sabbatical, I still tutor some kids for some extra income.
My friend (34F), just had a baby 2 months ago. She is the breadwinner in her household, and her husband has been unemployed since he was laid off during COVID.
It was great to be pregnant at the same time, as well as having a friend with a newborn. But it has turned sour.
She has been saying how jealous she is of me being able to take off a whole year from work, how she would have loved to not worry about losing their home, how she doesn’t even have a couple hundred dollars in her savings account, let alone a whole year’s worth of living expenses….
I usually ignore it, or brush it off, because I kind of can understand the stress she is under.
Well, starting about 10 days ago, she started hinting at not being able to afford daycare, and any mention of her husband taking care of their kid is brushed off. Then she started remarking on how much free time I must have, which I deflected by saying -truthfully- that being a single mom to a baby and a small kid left me no free time actually.
Then last night she came out with it, and asked if I could “do her a favor” and watch her kid while she’s at work. I was firm, but polite, when I said that I couldn’t, that I am not capable of watching two kids under 6 months.
She started almost begging me, saying she can’t afford daycare, and if she is not back at work, she will lose her job, and they will end up homeless. I again brought up her husband, and she said that he was not good with kids, and isn’t capable of taking care of her kid.
I kept saying no, she kept pushing, until it escalated to her calling me heartless, and me telling her that it’s not my problem she chose to have a kid with a useless man.
Now she blocked me, I am feeling very guilty about what I said, and feeling like an AH.

Howdy I am not selling nor promoting anything simply stating to give comfort that someone is doing something nor will I share any thing on here about where to find said nonprofits and what not then I’m about to mention
Having my career taken away from me and disability insurance. Will live a nice stress-free life. I get three days into accepting I build scaffolding in the carpenters union and no job site. Will let anyone with cataplexy be able to be just out of liability alone
So I know we’ll be the poster boy for my nonprofit of narcolepsy awareness and hope to create multiple others such as research and help people through the process of testing and after due to not working and maybe still having a family like myself did thru this.
As well as appeal company that donates percentage of profits back and be the only place that I make money because everything else. Will go as it should, and I will be different in the sense of a nonprofit and show where all the money goes without being asked, just simply presented on the platforms of my nonprofit page and how much we’ve invested into.
The only thing I will here is my term for us if you guys like it cause I do plural is narcalites
As well as I do believe being on amphetamines and or methylphenidate hydrochloride such as ADHD meds caused narcolepsy and many others
There should be more restrictions put on for kids not to be on and I feel can be proven already For restrictions. In the matter of a dopamine deficiency, considering the only study I can find which was provided to me by a doctor because they have access to more. 1 year on 2 years off to take dopamine to get back to the same level you are ignorant to think that this isn’t messing with kids, brain chemistry, and Greatly can give us an answer on the Unknown. And at the end of the day, they’re creating drug addict considering it’s already titled highly addictive and they restrictions put in place allow people like myself to be on 60 mg a day as a fifth grader without any say.
Simply look at when this medication came out and the increase in narcolepsy diagnosis from those kids growing into adults. It’s a huge peak as well as just keeps getting bigger every year. Hmmmmmmmm wonder y why And how is it a dumb carpenter figured this out.
I’ll tell you, I am not against the medication I think if properly put out there such as 18 years old and minimum of 15 years old anything other than that extreme cases and I mean extreme such as narcolepsy in a child not ADHD. A hugely ADD. Myself obviously yes it will be hard. However, I wish I learned to cope with them at 18. Decide for myself if I wanted to help. I need the help. For a while I was accused of being a drug addict till I found out actually it’s narcolepsy that’s why I needed more or it wasn’t because it not being treated properly now I’m proper treatment. I’m sorry but I just can’t ask why. Not a yes man. Never have been never will.
And reason for me being poster boy is because you tell me a better one than a division one wrestler winning multiple state titles throughout the childhood working double shifts in the carpenters union all the time out of sheer will power and adrenaline. to when finding out pregnant really feeling the first actual stress of my life that stress not bad to have it comes with life although causing my narcolepsy to be so so bad
And I know you guys can understand the statement of it’s very hard to tell going through life if something happened in a dream or didn’t or just déjà vu well I’ve learned not to just go with and I’m not insaneb I’m a vivid dream Think about that with normal sleep to distress, causing me to only sleep in and out without medication for longest period of time a month and a half able to stay up for four hours so yes I do believe awareness needs to be out there, especially when it’s the last thing on the list they test for at least causing two years of hell
And if I have done anything wrong in this post I do not want to change any of what it is about but the creators of this platform please when blocking my post from being seen inform me what to change. Because I feel I’m doing nothing but good for us the narcalites And only bettering us as a whole because I fear for the next case like mine to give up or the ones that I’ve already have and maybe ended up dead from her car wreck or resulted to drugs, I refused

What does it take to get a great game to become a success in 2024? We have had a look into the latest charts, analytics and surveys to extract some insights to help decipher how to turn a game into a hit.

Finding your players: who’s in your squad?

The gaming population keeps increasing year by year¹, comprising people from all ages and regions, but how are most players discovering new games? Well, the answer is multifaceted, but luckily we found a survey, published this month, May 2024², to inform us — and yes, this one included non-binary people, a segment of the population you don’t want to ignore in your research! At the top spot, we find YouTube; the most popular and trusted platform to discover games, followed by TikTok. Both are known for their short and long-form video content, as we predicted would be more relevant than ever this year.
But don’t underestimate the power of traditional methods either, as word-of-mouth recommendations, online ads, TV, and in-store and online promotions still play a huge part in the discoverability of games, specifically by helping generate trustworthiness, a key feature of successful marketing. Meanwhile, community hubs like Twitch, Reddit and Discord also have a very crucial role in product sustainability and longevity, as another recent survey³ indicated by stating that approximately 67% of gamers think video games help to build communities and many have established new friendships and even relationships through gaming. Could your game do that too? If you’re new to Reddit or Discord, take a look at our article here for some tips on getting started.
That being said, there’s no need to pick just one platform, as statistics show that people actually use 4 to 5 sources to discover new games. Gone are the days of a one-size-fits-all approach. Today's gamers are a diverse bunch, and understanding their habits is crucial. The key takeaway? A successful marketing strategy should use a multi-platform approach, carefully tailored to your audience.

Internationalisation done well: customising your build

So, we've looked at who your audience is, now it's the turn of localisation. Counting on experts to help you enter a new market and establish trust through a different cultural lens is a strategy that today's top games follow.
Looking at the global charts for 2023⁴ and at the top-selling games from April in the EU⁵, it becomes apparent that localisation is a common thread. Let’s look more specifically at France: almost every single one of the top 20 best-selling console games of 2023⁶ has been localised to French, as well as a number of other languages, including Arabic, as is the case with Assassin's Creed Mirage. This particular title makes a very interesting case study of localisation and culturalisation becoming powerful marketing tools themselves, as well as being key to the game’s experience.
Assassin's Creed Mirage was released with an Arabic dub that wasn't just for show. Praised for its authenticity, the accurate localisation, realistic voice acting and cultural details transported players directly into the bustling streets of 9th-century Baghdad. The localisation team meticulously recreated the cultural atmosphere. From the way the characters addressed each other to the background conversations, everything felt authentic. This commitment to culturalisation not only resonated deeply with Arabic-speaking gamers, but also garnered respect from players worldwide, earning positive reviews and strong engagement for Mirage (as seen in this TikTok example). Consequently, the dedication to localisation and culturalisation not only enhanced the game but also acted as a powerful marketing tool in itself to promote sales.
Talking about TikTok, recent studies also reveal that the most popular games on the platform have been localised into several languages⁷. As a social media platform that prides itself on its international communities, it’s only to be expected this would be the case. In fact, they recently announced that bilingual ads in Spanish and English are even more effective in promoting content on their platform in the US than English-only ads! And, on top of that, they increased consumers’ perception of brands’ trustworthiness⁸.
So what can we learn from looking at a recent unexpected rising star? And yes, we are talking about Helldivers 2! With very little pre-launch marketing, the game quickly became a massive hit throughout Europe⁹ and other regions¹⁰, and it seems to be managing to keep its popularity thanks to its very well-crafted and unique tone of voice. The game's distinct communication style, a blend of dark humour and military jargon, is a key part of its charm. From the hilariously over-the-top mission briefings to the satire-packed and irony-tinted community announcements, their propaganda-inspired marketing, perfectly localised into several languages, keeps players engaged globally.

The final boss: putting it all together

By understanding which platforms your audiences use, their motivations and demographics, and by prioritising localisation to enter different markets, you can significantly increase a game's chances of becoming a global phenomenon. Remember, sometimes it’s the little things, like changing the way you approach new markets, that make a big difference. If you need a partner to help you on your journey, get in touch with us here and our team at Tiny Lagoon will be thrilled to join you.
Sources:
¹ https://indd.adobe.com/view/8892459e-f0f4-4cfd-bf47-f5da5728a5b5?allowFullscreen=true
² https://www.biggamesmachine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/BGM-Game-discovery-survey-2024.pdf
³ https://www.aevi.org.es/web/wp-content/uploads/2023/10/POP_Version_09-10-spread.pdf
⁴ https://www.gamesindustry.biz/gamesindustrybiz-presents-the-year-in-number-2023
⁵ https://www.gamesindustry.biz/fallout-4-jumps-to-no1-across-europe-following-tv-show-launch
⁶ https://www.sell.fsites/default/files/essentiel-jeu-video/ejv_mars_2024_3.pdf
⁷ https://www.gamesindustry.biz/gamesindustrybiz-presents-the-year-in-number-2023
⁸ https://www.tiktok.com/business/en/blog/bilingual-ads-spanish-hispanic-audience
⁹ https://www.gamesindustry.biz/european-game-sales-strong-in-february-thanks-to-helldivers-2-european-monthly-charts
¹⁰ https://www.gamedeveloper.com/business/helldivers-2-is-estimated-to-have-sold-8-million-copies-so-far-

So I was on Instagram 4 hours ago in the bathroom and saw a model on it who's name I wanted to remember whilst forgetting im connected to work wifi on my personal device. When the the link opened it was a blocked site and the dread inside me ensued. I've had that come up before for opening gambling websites multiple times before and never have had a someone talk to me, although this is different (id like mention my employers don't really like me aswell which is also very concerning). For starters its a open wifi (only workers can be in range for, im not sure how many actually use it) and from memory I never had to put a username/password in (even if I did I would've just spammed letters) I work in a 24hour warehouse with over 900 employees (if found out ill be a social pariah if not fired), is it possible this could be traced back to me via ip address or phone blah blah blah? There is multiple different wifis available some are locked by passwords im presuming for those on the computers in logistics and IT Currently having a panic attack. (I know this has been asked before im just stressing, and to those before me this has happened too on Reddit did the people end up updating with never being caught)

Only female, shop of men including supervisor, about 5-10 females on plant site, we have nothing to do with them. I've been told multiple times that people in my shop are "scared to work with me" because of what the could be accused of. So, just by default of being female I'm already deemed a person that would accuse someone of something true or not. I have worked at another location for the same company for 12 years, never had an issue at all, same scenario, all men. Never accused anyone of anything. Never had any issues But this new location (been here 4 years) I've been dealing with this. I'm asking now because it iant just don't work with me. On shutdowns, everyone is dping work for 50-60 days straight with help. I don't have help so I do double the work. I've talked to HR. A few months ago, the HR lady said this, "your the only female up there so we really don't know if they're treating you that was because your female or if it's personal. If there was another female we could get a better idea." Does that sound like a valid HR answer to any HR people. This is on top of being ignored when talking, not being answered on the radio (this is a safety issue in a power plant). The boss hangs out in the breakroom during breaks and lunch- if I'm not in there. I did lose my s*t the other day and was sent to HR, which was understandable. The other party escalated the argument but when he called me a liar and accused me of doing stuff I did not do and he knew I did not do, I yelled, I cussed. Don't get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing professional about this place when the door is closed. Our shop is off by itself. No management goes in our shop. There are no windows. It's a world of our own. If the guys get in an argument, no one knows. If I yell and cuss, I get sent to HR. the thing about that my boss' boss and HR are empathetic and sympathetic and actually ask what happened, do you feel comfortable going back, staying the rest of the day. My boss doesn't say anything. He hangs out in the breakroom with the other party. Never one time does he stop and ask why it started, how it started, not that it's often, but anything I have been involved in, it's getting sent to HR and there's going to be a record. The boss, our direct supervisor, has been at the plant since he was in high school. He's in his 40s. He's not a boss, he's a buddy. There's more examples but I'm literally getting sick from anxiety and all the games.

**Fujimaru Ritsuka, the Last Master of Humanity, Enemy of the Crypters, Ammo of the Black Barrel, Feller of Goetia... is batshit insane.
Let me explain.
...

Lack of Basic Understanding of Causality

Fujimaru's bizzare tendencies show up from the very beginning of FGO. According to the game, he joins Chaldea after seeing a poster and deciding to take the job on a whim.
However, Chaldea is in Antartica. The implication is thus that Fujimaru abandoned his family, abandoned his life, abandoned everything he'd ever known and loved, to go to Antartica for a job that he had no idea what was, with zero guarantee of getting the job, with no certainty of a return trip-
On a whim.
Immediately after this, while getting lectured by his potential boss, being told everything he needs to know to pass the entry test, he decides now would be a perfect time to take a nap. Understandably, his boss is miffed by the new intern with zero experience taking a nap right in front of her while she's explaining the most important part of their job, and she decides to fire him.
Fujimaru reacts to this with... nothing. He's a little concerned and stressed per his dialogues, but you'd think he'd be significantly more horrified about needing to walk back home through the Antarticas or join an oil mine at the bottom of Chaldea. Instead, he just... chills with the doctor?
When he finds out Chaldea is on fire and even all the skilled, significantly better Masters than him are dead, his reaction isn't terror or fear. Instead, he remembers a girl he talked to ONCE, and immediately rushes over to the literal origin site of the fire to check if she's alright. Then he sees that she's buried under a building. As a regular guy, he has no prospects of saving her. And the longer he stays, the lower his chances of survival get. His response?
Ignore everything to hold her hand and stay there till no hope of getting out remains.
Presumably CHALDEAS itself is impressed by what is either the tremendous love of Ciel-lookalikes or the complete lack of basic understanding of consequence in this man, and it sends him to Fuyuki presumably in hopes to unite him with fellow madman Shirou so that their collective insanity can open a path to the Root or something.
...

What's Self-Preservation? Can I eat it?

Fujimaru is teleported to a hotter fire surrounded by skeleton upon skeleton. Fortunately, the girl he held hands with turned into super servant Galahad. She can protect hi-
Ritsuka why the hell are you throwing yourself into danger when you have a LITERAL SHIELD at your side?
No Fujimaru do not sacrifice yourself trying to protect someone WHO LITERALLY WEARS ARMOUR AND HAS A SHIELD!
Fujimaru taking a page from the book of Shirou Emiya has a violent martyr complex and nearly dies dooming all humanity in the first twenty minutes of the game. Very fortunately, Cu Chulainn notices this and not wanting to be outdone by someone else dying before him, saves the day.
Ritsuka later proceeds to instantly grasp the concept of Shadow Summoning and turn it into his technique which further raises the question of if brain damage in the Nasuverse just lends you power somehow when we consider the strongest techniques in the series:

• Unlimited Bladeworks (manifested by swordtism)
• Tsubame Guashi (manifested by fightingtism)
• Strong Punch (manifested by Soujuuro)

Ritsuka then acts normal for some time till we reach the end of Singularity-F. He finds out about the END OF HUMANITY.
He is somehow barely fazed by this and determines to save it all himself. This random chump with no mage skills, no Master experience, nothing at all, is entirely confident. This is presumably the true reason why Servants keep being summoned - not by Mash's roundtable shield - but because Fujimaru's balls are just so big they've developed their own gravitational fields and draw in Servants from the Throne like a blackhole.
...

Psychopathy in the Singularities

Fujimaru Ritsuka, Humanity's Last Asylum Escape, then goes to Orleans, sees several thousand dragons, ignores the terror of that sight, murders a fanfiction OC, murders his way through Septem without going insane in the process despite interacting with Nero, and finally we reach the madness that is Fujimaru in Okeanos.
Fujimaru in Okeanos:

• Volunteers to race against HERACLES
  
• He WINS this race against HERACLES
  
• He, a completely inexperienced magus, fights a woman WHO HAS SINGLE-HANDEDLY KILLED POSEIDON AND IS BEING POWERED BY A HOLY GRAIL and wins?????
  
• Fujimaru also wouldn't have full understanding of Shadow Summoning at this point, so the implication is that Fujimaru just half-assed it and then made up the difference by fistfighting her? What sort of gym is this kid going to?
  

We continue on to London. Fujimaru sees a Goddess, the human equivalent of a God, a fragment of Amaterasu, one of the Heavenly Kings, all back to back and is completely uninterested.
He trusts Mordred, literally known as the Knight of Treachery and Jekyll whose best known myth is him pretending to be another person to get out of the consequences of his desire to be evil and betray all his friends.
From this we conclude Fujimaru Ritsuka has no understanding of basic human minds and operates on some greater level of humanity known only to him and Soujuuro.

Train him wrong as a joke? Wait, we were supposed to train him?

Fujimaru walks across the entirety of America on foot in less than a month. In Lord of the Rings, this took over a year. Now, this wouldn't be surprising for a mage. They can boost their physical capabilities so-
What do you mean Fujimaru doesn't know how to enhance his body?
Yeah, as it turns out, contrary to a number of doujins and... basic expectations, not a single person taught Fujimaru Ritsuka, Last Master of Humanity, the guy on whom the entire world depends, basic f***ing magecraft. You know, Da Vinci, maybe some things are more important than making fun of Romani for liking Vtubers? Maybe you could have taught the kid literally the most important fundamental to keeping up with Servants?
This is shown in Lostbelt 1 where Kadoc is surprised that Fujimaru can't enhance his eyes before Fujimaru reveals that he doesn't know anything about enhancement at all, which is... C'mon, Paracelsus, Avicebron, Circe, Medea, they're all literally part of the team. Did not one of them consider "huh, I wonder if I should teach the Last Master of Humanity, the guy on whom ALL HUMANITY DEPENDS, magecraft?"
Shirou was trained wrong. Ritsuka? Somehow Chaldean staff are even more negligent than Kiritsugu. He wasn't trained at all!
...

Fujimaru tells God to eat Shit

Fujimaru goes to Camelot. He's almost normal for most of it besides a tad too deep sense of social justice shared by Mash.
Then he confronts the Lion King. The Lion King who could smite him with a single thought. The Lion King who wields the Pillar of the World. He looks at her, this terrifying force of nature, an actual divinity, God to mortal.
...And he tells her she's a dumbass.
"Humans aren't butterflies you can put on a board!" says Fujimaru Ritsuka, having for unknown reason decided to try to refute a GOD. And flabbergastingly, this works as Lion King takes brain damage presumably from the sheer bafflement that a child with no special abilities is talking down to her, causing her to go berserk and lose when Bedivere activates his Bitch-Slap Airgetlam.
...
Then he goes to Ancient Uruk/Babylonia/I still have no clue where this is. He meets Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, several tiers beyond what Fujimaru will ever be.
"I'm going to skip the line to talk shit to you and ask you to join me," decides Ritsuka. Gilgamesh, unimpressed tries to make him do housework. Fujimaru reveals that in addition to being Humanity's Last Master, he's Humanity's Last Housewife and perfectly does everything till Gil is forced to respect his impressive janitorial skills and they go off to Literal Hell together.
Fujimaru's insanity then makes him befriend several people he shouldn't including:

• God known for betraying everyone she knew (Ishtar)
• God trying to kill them (Gorgon Lily )
  
• Other God trying to kill them (Jaguar)
  
• the Grim Reaper (King Hassan)
  
• The Grim Reaper if it was an anime Waifu (Ereshkigal)
  
• Merlin, who if you've studied Arthurian mythos, you know is the LITERAL ANTICHRIST.
  

Somehow, he gets all of these to work together including mortal enemies Gilgamesh and Ishtar, and inspires King Hassan to give up his Grand title to become a different Grand- a Grandfather.
Fujimaru Ritsuka fights with Lucha Wrestler God trying to kill him by attempting to... suicide tackle her by being air dropped for some reason instead of just breaking the damn magic stone powering her because Fujimaru has offscreen developed telepathy and knows exactly what Lucha Goddess wants.
Having befriended a fourth god trying to kill them, they go to befriend Mom by beating her to death. The gang cheers as they succeed and Waifu Grim Reaper is outed as a tsundere.
...

Coughing Baby vs Omnipotent King of Seventy Two Demon Gods (the baby wins)

Fujimaru goes to outer space. He meets unsurmountable odds. Seventy-two immortal Demon Gods. His reaction?
"Nah, I'd Summon."
Fujimaru transforms the game into a Kingdom Hearts story as the bonds he formed along the way act as a catalyst to summon EVERY SINGLE SERVANT IN THE THRONE to fight for his ass. Goetia screams like a baby as Fujimaru performs the ultimate JJK beatdown by calling in every damn person to ever do anything of note to kick Goetia in the balls through the sheer overwhelming power of friendship.
Goetia reveals himself to be a fraud and pulls "with this treasure I summon Ars Almadel Salmonis: The Time of Birth Has Come, He Is the One Who Masters All!"
Fujimaru calls in additional support from Archetype Eggplants to block an attack that destroyed seven humanities. Following this, he calls in Goetia's dad to put his omnipotence on timeout.
Then, Fujimaru Ritsuka, this untrained regular human with zero enhancement skills, solos Goetia with a Shield he's never used, beating him in a straight boxing match.
Combined with the Francis Drake thing, it makes me wonder if he's secretly the FGO version of Soujuuro.

Conclusion

You liars told me he was a regular ordinary human and the most boring Type-Moon protagonist with no mental problems like the rest.
What the hell did you mean? I have never met a man more on the spectrum, insane, off the walls, unhinged, bonkers and genuinely weird than this guy.
How did I let myself be fooled? He's a Type Moon protagonist! It should have been obvious from the get go!

Fujimaru Ritsuka is Completely Insane.

FIN.

Of course I’m on mobile so sorry in advance, but I am at a loss. I moved to a new area about 3 months ago, and I am actually moving again at the end of this month. Partially due to this, as well as other reasons. Now my neighborhood is very quiet. There’s a dog park down the hill, and a school three blocks away. We have a school bus drive through every day, twice a day. Across the street is a fairly loud family. They have three kids and dogs, so of course they’ll have a lot going on. Their yard is TRASHED. As we speak they have cleaned it up a bit, and their dumpster is SURROUNDED by broken furniture, old mattresses, and hundreds of bags of trash. I believe it is because they were fined when the police were called for a different reason. Me and my husband are very quiet. We have two dogs but one is older and the other is totally crate trained. I know for a fact that even if they do bark, because we are on the second story and the only tenants in the building, you can’t hear them unless you’re in our driveway. Other than that, we really have not been bad neighbors. Maybe anti-social but that’s it. Now on to the issue at hand. The husband drives a large bed tow truck for work, and he parks it at his house. Recently he actually started parking it in his driveway, previously he was parking on the street but that has stopped. Now i understand large diesel engines work differently, so when it was snowy I didn’t really have a reason to be annoyed, but this guy starts his truck at 5 am, and idles it until 7:30/8 am when he leaves. It makes a hissing noise and wakes us up, I can hear it in every part of my apartment with the windows closed. It’s like a school bus. It makes me and my husband incredibly uncomfortable, especially since we both work nights and get home at 2-3 am. Now, due to the actions of the family (i.e. screaming, fighting, the son is always being violent, cops called often) I don’t feel safe walking over there to chat. We are a queer couple and I am transgender so I’ve always been anxious about confrontation. I did call the tow company he works for and explained the issue, and how I need to sleep, plus the city has a 8pm-7am noise ordinance. After I called my husband took the dogs out and the husband was yelling about “loud barking dogs” (every house on the street except my left side neighbor has a dog) and other things about what bs it is. The idling did not stop, so I unfortunately called the police after a week, and have called them a couple times since. Because it wasn’t stopping. Well, today he didn’t idle his truck. Instead he used his key to set off his horn 4-8 times every 20 minutes, and started his truck at 7am on the dot, since the noise ordinance is not in effect at that time. Obviously with me moving it will solve itself, but there’s an elderly couple who live to the left of me, the dog park brings all kinds of people walking the neighborhood, and the bus stop on the corner, plus the school being so close, i feel awful. As far as I have looked into it, a diesel engine doesn’t need to warm up for more than 30 minutes? Am I being too snooty??? Edited for spelling

I have ADHD and have increasingly found that my stress levels and ability to get things done are much better the more I offload stuff from my brain into some sort of digital repository.
I'm an iPad power-user (basically live on this thing) so I've been using the iOS Reminders app for most of this stuff. But while reminders has been great for, well, reminders/tasks, I'm finding I'm increasingly trying to use it for stuff it's not really well-suited for (like making lists of thoughts/info that I want to keep, not check off). I tried using Notes to fill in the gaps, but I just don't find it as pleasant and intuitive to use (reminders feels very structured, and color-coding in the sidebar helps keep me focused/find things). Plus there's stuff neither app does that I'd really like to find a good solution for.
Basically I think what I'm looking for is a personal knowledge/document/data management system. I've looked at a whole bunch and am frankly overwhelmed and struggling to figure out which would be best suited for my needs. Ideally the features I want (if possible to do all this in 1 app) are:

• Wiki type feature or decent linking allows me to connect related notes/docs. Can be offline but the ability to export to pdf or something would be cool so I can share stuff with people (like a topic ref doc for my kid, or a show viewing guide I'm making for my parents)
• Some sort of basic outline tools within the above docs/wiki (this doesn't have to be fancier than what Notes can do)
• WYSIWYG/rich text editor with decent/clear UI (I do NOT want to have to use markdown just to make entries. I'm fine copy/pasting stuff for unique formatting situations, but I am very much a visual person and not a programmer)
• Web clipper if possible/some way to send webpages to the database as a pdf or similar
• Annotation abilities, ideally with the ability to highlight bits of text and use the Apple Pencil to draw on top of these clips/pdfs.
• Ability to place images and other things into pages, but also the ability to browse a gallery of images with thumbnails (I'm an artist and while I use Visref for active ref while working, I need a better ref organization solution than the Photos app)
• Tagging (nested tagging is cool but not a requirement) with the ability to search/filter by tags
• Folders or workspaces with nesting/hierarchy. I just really need stuff "boxed" like this for my brain to keep track of it. I like to have a few basic folders and then dig down into detailed organizational systems within one. If this isn't possible, then nested tagging becomes much more important.
• Ability to put links to stuff in some sort of database/offline bookmarks managed where I can click them to open them in Safari. Basically I want to remove most of my bookmarks from Safari (I bookmark a lot of stuff just in case I need to refer back to it someday) and keep only frequently visited sites in there.
• Lists, like wishlists, with some basic organization/tagging (this might be accomplished the same way as the bookmarks database, basically I just want to be able to have like, a list of AppStore apps I may want to check out someday with links to them, or a list of books, or some other product and a link to where they can be purchased).
• Cloud sync/backup. Even though I mostly only use this one device, it would be nice to be able to at least reference my database on the rare occasion I need it on my iPhone or MacBook. Also I do not trust myself to remember to manually back it up.

Some stuff that would be nice to have but isn't absolutely required:

• Thumbnail views in image galleries display animations when there's an animated gif
• Modular layout tools (i enjoy stuff like kanban, cards, blocks, anything I can drag and drop and easily rearrange)
• Popup images/notes when a particular link is clicked (without navigating away from the current page/document)

I don't need tasks or calendar tools, fine using the iOS apps for those. Also a paid app is something I'm willing to consider if it's good enough. Infinite canvas is also not necessary and may be a detriment as I can easily forget about stuff that's drifted off-screen.
Some of the apps I've looked at are:

• Notion - I like the blocks that can be dragged and dropped, and the templates are cool. I'm not sure how I feel about the sidebar UI and the bare-bones look. Can stuff be nested on the left into folders and is there some way to add some more colostyling to the UI or documents? I also worry about it being online only.
• LiquidText - This doesn't do most of what I need but I like the select and drag out text snippet feature a lot.
• Evernote - I used this years ago and haven't looked at it in a while but I wasn't a huge fan of the UI back then.
• Others I know very little about: Obsidian, Anytype, Craft, Raindrop (is this just links/bookmarks?), Muse, Logsec, Devonthink, Flexcil, Funnel, Heptabase, Notesnook, Noto, Siyuan? Like I said, I'm overwhelmed.

Thinking about productivity app experiences I’ve enjoyed, Reminders and Trello come to mind. Plus that drag and drop snippit feature in LiquidText…I guess I like modular stuff? My brain likes stuff to be neatly boxed in a visually clear way.
Sorry I know that was a lot! Thank you to anyone who made it through all that. I welcome your recommendations if there are any apps that do what I'm looking for.

I have ADHD and and have increasingly found that my stress levels and ability to get things done are much better the more I offload stuff from my brain into some sort of digital repository.
I'm an iPad power-user (basically live on this thing) so I've been using the iOS Reminders app for most of this stuff. But while reminders has been great for, well, reminders/tasks, I'm finding I'm increasingly trying to use it for stuff it's not really well-suited for (like making lists of thoughts/info that I want to keep, not check off). I tried using Notes to fill in the gaps, but I just don't find it as pleasant and intuitive to use (reminders feels very structured, and color-coding in the sidebar helps keep me focused/find things). Plus there's stuff neither app does that I'd really like to find a good solution for.
Basically I think what I'm looking for is a personal knowledge/document/data management system. I've looked at a whole bunch and am frankly overwhelmed and struggling to figure out which would be best suited for my needs. Ideally the features I want (if possible to do all this in 1 app) are:

• Wiki type feature or decent linking allows me to connect related notes/docs. Can be offline but the ability to export to pdf or something would be cool so I can share stuff with people (like a topic ref doc for my kid, or a show viewing guide I'm making for my parents)
• Some sort of basic outline tools within the above docs/wiki (this doesn't have to be fancier than what Notes can do)
• WYSIWYG/rich text editor with decent/clear UI (I do NOT want to have to use markdown just to make entries. I'm fine copy/pasting stuff for unique formatting situations, but I am very much a visual person and not a programmer)
• Web clipper if possible/some way to send webpages to the database as a pdf or similar
• Annotation abilities, ideally with the ability to highlight bits of text and use the Apple Pencil to draw on top of these clips/pdfs.
• Ability to place images and other things into pages, but also the ability to browse a gallery of images with thumbnails (I'm an artist and while I use Visref for active ref while working, I need a better ref organization solution than the Photos app)
• Tagging (nested tagging is cool but not a requirement) with the ability to search/filter by tags
• Folders or workspaces with nesting/hierarchy. I just really need stuff "boxed" like this for my brain to keep track of it. I like to have a few basic folders and then dig down into detailed organizational systems within one. If this isn't possible, then nested tagging becomes much more important.
• Ability to put links to stuff in some sort of database/offline bookmarks managed where I can click them to open them in Safari. Basically I want to remove most of my bookmarks from Safari (I bookmark a lot of stuff just in case I need to refer back to it someday) and keep only frequently visited sites in there.
• Lists, like wishlists, with some basic organization/tagging (this might be accomplished the same way as the bookmarks database, basically I just want to be able to have like, a list of AppStore apps I may want to check out someday with links to them, or a list of books, or some other product and a link to where they can be purchased).

Some stuff that would be nice to have but isn't absolutely required:

• Thumbnail views in image galleries display animations when there's an animated gif
• Modular layout tools (i enjoy stuff like kanban, cards, blocks, anything I can drag and drop and easily rearrange)
• Popup images/notes when a particular link is clicked (without navigating away from the current page/document)

I don't need tasks or calendar tools, fine using the iOS apps for those. Also a paid app is something I'm willing to consider if it's good enough. Infinite canvas is also not necessary and may be a detriment as I can easily forget about stuff that's drifted off-screen.
Some of the apps I've looked at are:

• Notion - I like the blocks that can be dragged and dropped, and the templates are cool. I'm not sure how I feel about the sidebar UI and the bare-bones look. Can stuff be nested on the left into folders and is there some way to add some more colostyling to the UI or documents? I also worry about it being online only.
• LiquidText - This doesn't do most of what I need but I like the select and drag out text snippet feature a lot.
• Evernote - I used this years ago and haven't looked at it in a while but I wasn't a huge fan of the UI back then.
• Others I know very little about: Obsidian, Anytype, Craft, Raindrop (is this just links/bookmarks?), Muse, Logsec, Devonthink, Flexcil, Funnel, Heptabase, Notesnook, Noto, Siyuan? Like I said, I'm overwhelmed.

Sorry I know that was a lot! Thank you to anyone who made it through all that. I welcome your recommendations if there are any apps that do what I'm looking for.
Thinking about productivity app experiences I’ve enjoyed, Reminders and Trello come to mind. Plus that drag and drop snippit feature in LiquidText…I guess I like modular stuff? My brain likes stuff to be neatly boxed in a visually clear way.
Also as a side question: I recently tried Drafts, literally just as a drafts app (for when I'm replying to something and worried about losing my comment, or the web's editor is frustrating to use, like reddit). But is there any way to use rich text in it, or is it markdown only? Is there a similar app as smooth as this for this basic use with basic formatting tools? Just bolding, bulleted lists, stuff like that. I can go back to using Notes for this but just wondering if there's something better.

Below you'll find information and links to help advocate for Reproductive Freedoms and Abortion care in Canada and emerging policy issues with the Reddit platform. This is a recurring post and will be periodically updated as needed. Feel free to post additional information and discussions in the comments.
Advocating for Abortion Care in Canada:

• There is a serious lack of Abortion Care options in Canada, particularly in the rural areas, and for those living on reserves, they have almost no access to Abortion care. People may have to travel more than 100km and across provincial lines to access abortion. Some have to travel by plane from their rural community to one with an abortion clinic or hospital. This puts an unfair financial and logistical burden on those that need to access abortion care. Provincial Health Insurance Plans do not cover travel costs related to receiving medical care.
• Because many provinces have few facilities that provide Abortion care, this places an unreasonable load on the clinics that do exist, forcing clients to look elsewhere for facilities with capacity to help them. In Alberta, there is one clinic for every 209,077 people who can become pregnant (number of assigned-at-birth females between the ages of 15-29). PEI, the Northwest Territories and the Yukon Territory each only have 1 Abortion care provider. Nunavut only has 2 abortion providers, and of those, only one offers medical abortion covered by the provincial health insurance plan. In fact, 9 (out of a total of 13) Canadian provinces and territories have five or fewer facililities offering abortion care in their entire province. And 10 Canadian provinces and territories have one or fewer (0) rural facililities offering abortion care.
• Some provinces, have more restrictive guidelines regarding abortion, limiting access to abortion care to those with a gestational period of less than 12 weeks (meaning, 12 weeks since the first day of your last period, not 12 weeks since you discovered you were pregnant or when you had sex). Many people who menstruate have irregular periods. Some people might only menstruate every 2 or 3 months, and might only discover that they are pregnant near the gestation limit of 12 weeks.
• Insurance coverage also limits access to abortions. Some provinces, like Nunavut, do not offer coverage for medical abortions unless they are prescribed and performed in a hospital. And being a rural province, there also happens to be only 1 hospital in Nunavut - Qikiqtani General Hospital in Iqualuit. New Brunswick will only cover abortion services in a hospital setting, which means that abortion medical care provided in clinics are not covered by their Provincial Health Insurance Plan.
• Sexual and reproductive health services are among the services that physicians, pharmacists and nurse practitioners are most frequently unwilling to provide on moral or religious grounds. People who have been harassed and/or attacked while visiting an Abortion clinic may experience stigma and/or discrimination from their peers, especially in smaller, rural communities where everyone knows one another. People refused care by health care professionals because of personal beliefs may experience stigma and/or discrimination, forcing them to travel outside of their community to receive the care they need. This can all be particularly daunting for young people or those with limited resources.
• Everyone in Canada is supposed to have equal rights to access health care, regardless of race, age, class, immigration status, gender expression, sexuality and ability. Nevertheless, anyone's right to seek abortion care can be be impacted by discrimination and bigotry, both systemic and as a result of individual prejudice on the part of service providers. Racism, xenophobia, classism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and ageism in Canada are all direct and intersecting barriers to accessing abortion. It is much more difficult for a person who doesn\u2019t speak English to access abortion services, despite the presence of a translator. Transpeople also experience discrimination at higher rates in reproductive health care settings. Providers may also lack the knowledge or training to provide trans-affirming abortion care and abortion services are typically housed within *women\u2019s* health care departments.
• Further compounding the issue of inequitable abortion access are unregulated crisis pregnancy centres (CPCs), which are anti-choice pregnancy centres that advertise in hospitals, doctor's offices, churches, schools and community centre. They deceive people coming to them for options and advice by giving misinformation about abortion or by insisting on options that may delay or interfere with the clients ability to access the care they need. CPCs far outnumber abortion care providers in Canada. In Ontario alone, there are 77 active CPCs but only 38 abortion care providers. Overall, in Canada, there are 165 known CPCs compared to 147 abortion care providers (as of August 2022).

Reference: Policy Options, via the Institute for Research on Public Policy and Action Canada for Sexual Health & Rights
What can you do to improve access to abortion care in Canada?

1. Listen, research and learn. This is always the first step to understand any problem.
2. Send a letter to your MP and MPP. Tell them that access to abortion care is important and how difficult it can be to access it in your province. Urge them to prevent anti-choice groups and CPCs from receiving charitable status, and to revoke the charitable status from CPCs that already have it. Encourage them to include reasonable reimbursement for travel costs related to receiving medical care when it is not available in your community. And push them to pass Safe Access Zone Legislation to protect patients, practitioners and their staff from anti-choice harassment and intimidation.
3. Give a donation to a pro-choice charitable organization of your choice. Remember, if you give a total of $201 CDN or more to Canadian charitable organizations, you'll get a credit of 29% of your total annual donations on your income taxes (for those that file Canadian Income Taxes, only).
4. Sign up for the Abortion Rights Coalition of Canada Newsletter. https://www.arcc-cdac.ca/
5. Participate in local marches and rallys in support of access to abortion care.
6. Spread the Word. Tell your friends and family. Encourage them to research, listen and learn. Encourage them to contact their MPP and MPs.
7. If you work in a Doctor's office or as a family physician, consider incorporating Mifegymiso into your practice to ensure patients have timely access to this essential service. If you are a Doctor, or studying to be one, consider opening an Abortion Care practice when you are licensed and qualified to do so, especially in rural areas where there are a lack of options.
8. If you work in politics, consider proposing legislation that will ensure safe access zones for abortion care providers and their clients and covering reasonable travel costs for constituents when medical care is not available in their community.
9. If you are a journalist or work in media, consider preparing pieces sharing the difficulty Canadians can have accessing medical care such as abortions.
10. If you work in the area of Not For Profit/Advocacy, consider partnering with a Pro-choice organization and helping them spread information and lobby for improving access to abortion care for Canadians.
11. If you know someone who needs abortion care, consider giving them a ride to a clinic, helping them access the advice and care they need, and provide non-judgemental support.
12. Ensure persons of First Nations, Metis and Inuit heritage know about Jordan's Principle, which ensures that First Nations children (which includes people who can become pregnant under the age of 18) can access the products, services and supports they need, when they need them. https://www.sac-isc.gc.ca/eng/1568396042341/1568396159824

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Emerging Policy Issues with Reddit
On July 1, 2023, Reddit raised the price to make calls to their API from being free to a level that killed every third party app on Reddit, from Apollo to Reddit is Fun to Narwhal to BaconReader. This policy change meant that mobile users would have a lesser experience browsing Reddit, users with visual difficulties could not browse reddit as screenreaders are not compatible with the official Reddit app, and mods lost tools that they depend on to keep communities on-topic and spam-free. Many subreddits protested this change in June 2023, and the Reddit admins enforced draconian measures such as removing and replacing mods who privatized their subreddits in protest of this policy change.
On September 12, 2023, Reddit will eliminate reddit coins, including removing all accumulated coins, a perk that Reddit Premium users pay for every month. Coins are used to reward comments and posts by showing your appreciation for the effort. Some reddit coins offer the ability to use reddit without ads.
In March 2024, Reddit had an IPO (Initial Public Offering), and the founder and current CEO, as well as the COO have sold $500,000 of their shares. How does this effect you? Reddit may face pressure to increase revenues to attract investors. This could lead to more ads or new monetization features. There could also be changes to the platform to attract a wider user base, such as bans and censorship on certain topics or words and control over content to appease more conservative shareholders or users.
What can you do to protest policy changes at Reddit?

1. Listen, research and learn. Check /modcoord for updates
2. Cancel your Reddit Premium membership
3. Participate in subreddit led protests
4. Look for other forums to patronize. We have a forum on Discord called Auntie Network Canada. Message the mods here for an invite link to the Discord group.
5. Complain. Message the mods of reddit.com, who are the admins of the site: message reddit: submit a support request: comment in relevant threads on reddit. Leave a negative review on their official iOS or Android app.

Flying home as I write this.
First don’t sweat the weather in May. We had what looked like 5 days of rain but we didn’t get a drop of rain until the last day. Got cloudy and looked like it might rain here and there but for the most part it was very pleasant weather. Don’t sweat it but pack some options.
Cash/credit. Almost didn’t need a euro. Paid with Apple Pay everywhere - taxis, metro, sites, restaurants, etc. one exception was the artists near sacre couer only took cash. Never needed or asked for a PIN.
Sites. Did all the major sites. Each and everyone now has heavy duty security, metal detectors and even body scanners. This makes it a very slow process to get in. Plan for that.
Arc de triumph was particularly painful when we were there. Eiffel Tower is also very painful due to the queueing at the elevators. Took us 2 hours minimum to get to top and back down. Louvre did a mad dash for the Mona Lisa at 9am and that worked out well with pretty small crowds. Then got to relax and enjoy the rest of the museum.
Funny - by the Eiffel tour you can go see the Olympic countdown clock. Ironically it was showing 101 days to the games when it was only supposed to be 67. Got a picture. It even made the news. Dummies. Makes me question how prepared they are for the Olympics. Hopefully they don’t think they have an extra month of prep time :)
Olympics prep - didn’t impact us in the least. Nothing we wanted to do was blocked by it.
Safety - no issues. Felt perfectly safe late at night, on the metro, Ubers, etc. only saw one clipboard lady at the Eiffel Tower and just walked away.
Trip highlight - Le Calife dinner cruise was amazing. I’ve been to Paris several times before but never did this due to seeming like a tourist trap - which I think most are. This one gets it right. It’s high end food and service on a boat. It was awesome - not cheap though. We were very happy with our front of boat seats. Great way to end the trip. Was from 8pm to almost 11pm.
St. Chapelle was an amazing first for me. Pretty incredible and worth the body scan to get in.
Ubemetro - took the metro to/from sacre couer just to let my son have the experience - it’s very easy to buy tickets and use. Otherwise mostly walked or did Ubers which were quick and plentiful. Official taxi from Cdg to Paris was easy to find - the trip into the city however was very painful and took close to 1.5 hours with the morning traffic.
Food - too much to report. We didn’t have a bad meal anywhere and refreshing to have good service regardless of price.
Recommend an after dinner stroll to a gelato shop every night.
CDG - I was really sweating coming home today with some kind of strike going on which mostly impacted the trains but also some airport staff. Showed up 3+ hours early to CDG but breezed thru security and passport check in under 30mins. Give yourself time but the horror stories seem overblown.
Edit:
Language - almost everyone we came across spoke English to a good degree. We tried our best with French but usually switched to English when they heard our attempts :). I do think a merci here and there is appreciated. We did have one taxi driver with very limited English but we made it work.
Holidays - many French holidays in May. We were there for Pentecost and whit Monday - both seems to be a non event for us and nothing we came across was closed due to this. So hard to tell which holidays are impactful or not for tourists, but this wasn’t one of them.

A little rant. I am 27F. Does anyone really talk about how frustrating it is to be a jobseeker in Africa? I graduated in 2019 with an Accounting bachelor’s degree. I couldn’t find any decent-paying job, so I ended up working as a commercial property caretaker making around $260 per month. Sounds like nothing and yes it wasn’t much but I was able to find a single room and rent and also buy basic foodstuff. Buying an extra banana meant I was squeezing my budget. I tried content creation, doing online writing gigs to supplement my income and luckily, I got by.
Forward to November 2021, I moved in with my then-bf, thankfully, he has been nothing but supportive, and I didn’t have to pay rent so I could save a little bit from my earnings.
I went back to school to finish up my professional papers (CPA in my country has different exams from your accounting degree.) Supposedly, the professional papers should give you an edge but that wasn’t my case.
Fast forward to October 2022, I changed course. I had been running a WordPress site for like six years at this point, just writing random University experiences so I knew anything SEO, writing, etc.
My bf suggested I try programming and see whether it’s my thing. This was after endless months of job applications. Guys, I applied to even volunteer just to get my foot through the door in a lot of accounting firms but I got nothing.
I was beginning to fall into depression, so getting something new to give me a purpose didn’t sound like a bad idea. I went through a tonne of YouTube videos and finally started Harvard’s CS50x. I finished that in June 2023 and since then, I have built projects in Python, JS, and Django.
I created a portfolio and I have been applying to jobs all over again. I just need to mention that I have been dreading the application because I know how well it went last time. The most frustrating thing is that even remote jobs on LinkedIn require you to be in the USA, Europe, or the country that posted it. My country, where I am legally allowed to work, barely has any job postings. The ones that are there are from months ago and the applications are usually over 200.
I feel so lost and frustrated at this point. I do not even know why I am writing this, but I have seen so many people who live in the US trash the USA. I get it, you never appreciate what you have until you don’t. As a young African, I will tell you, if you even have an opportunity to apply, you are lucky whether you get the job or not. Some of us are automatically disqualified by virtue of where we were born.

Even before Indiana abortion restrictions took effect last year, Indiana in 2022 had a lower ratio (9.86) of nurses to 1,000 population than neighboring states of Kentucky ( 9.97), Michigan (10.11), and Ohio (11.09). Indiana's new abortion restrictions may result in existing and prospective nurses choosing other careers, leaving Indiana, or becoming traveling nurses. Young women especially are conscious how abortion restrictions may impact their health needs personally, let alone professionally as nurses.
https://nursejournal.org/articles/the-us-nursing-shortage-state-by-state-breakdown/
As noted in the above article, nursing shortages are a national problem to be aggravated by an expected increase in retirees as well as increased demand as Baby Boomers age and require more medical services.
<< A lack of nurse educators keeps nursing schools from being able to admit enough students to address the shortfall. A shortage of nurses means more burnout and more nurses choosing to leave the profession, contributing to the shortage.
In addition, the aging of Baby Boomers means that more nurses are retiring at a time when an aging population has a greater need for healthcare providers. The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated the nursing shortage.>>
Many Indiana women rely on medication abortions aided by doctors practicing remotely in other states, who often rely on "shield laws" in those states to protect them from prosecution in states with abortion restrictions. If anti-abortion states are successful in blocking these shield laws and restricting telemedicine abortions, Indiana may become even less attractive to young women concerned with their own reproductive rights.
<< A clash is looming between anti-abortion red states and the blue state telemedicine shield laws trying to preserve abortion access.
More than a dozen states have laws shielding medical providers and others from out-of-state investigations and prosecutions regarding abortions and gender affirming care. But six states — Colorado, Massachusetts, New York, California, Vermont and Washington — have gone even further.
Those shield laws offer protection for doctors, nurses and other practitioners who prescribe and send abortion pills to people living in states that ban or severely restrict abortion.>>
https://thehill.com/policy/healthcare/4671299-abortion-bans-clash-shield-laws/
<< According to a new report from the abortion-rights research group Society of Family Planning, nearly 8,000 people per month in states with bans or severe restrictions were getting medication abortion from clinicians operating under shield law protections from October through December 2023. >>
The personal turmoil of nursing in states with abortion bans and restrictions also lessens the desirability of those states not only for nursing recruits, but also existing nurses.
<< National articles provide a look at how some nurses and physicians are quitting or moving because they cannot handle the trauma they see when women are denied health- and life-saving abortion care during a pregnancy crisis. For instance, Leah Wilson, a Texas nurse, had to watch her pregnant patient for days as the woman’s infection worsened and drew closer to sepsis because the fetus still registered a heartbeat when the woman’s water broke at 19 weeks of pregnancy. The nurse said, “You know what? I’m not doing this anymore,” and she left her job. Wilson had worked with high-risk pregnancy patients before and provided them with support for fetal loss, but she had never seen patients denied standard medical care until after Roe v. Wade was overturned.>>
https://www.reliasmedia.com/articles/abortion-bans-lead-physicians-nurses-to-avoid-certain-states
https://www.nursingworld.org/practice-policy/work-environment/health-safety/srh-advocacy/
Shortages of nurses increase the workplace burdens and stress for remaining nurses. This can compromise the quality of healthcare for patients, as does Indiana laws providing for lax continuing education requirements and lowered training supervision quality for student nurses.
Unlike neighboring states, Indiana has no continuing education requirements for RNs or LPNs.
https://www.nursingce.com/ceu-requirements/indiana
https://www.nursingcenter.com/continuing-education/ce-state-requirements
<< Estimates predict that Indiana would need an additional 5,000 nurses by 2031, equal to graduating an additional 1,300 nurses each year until that time, according to the Indiana Hospital Association. >>
https://indianacapitalchronicle.com/2024/02/12/indiana-has-a-problem-a-lack-of-nurses-and-lawmakers-are-trying-to-help/
To increase the supply of nurses, a new bill would ease the requirements for nurses supervising student nurses.
<< While most of the bill received glowing support in testimony, one issue was a bit of a sticking point for nurses working in clinical settings: language striking minimums for preceptors, or licensed nurses supervising students during rotation. Previously, preceptors needed 18 months of experience before they could be drafted to teach and mentor the next generation.
The new law has no minimum requirement.
Rep. Cindy Ledbetter, a nurse practitioner with a doctorate, cautioned against the move, saying unprepared nurses would be given to students to address a shortage.
“My concern is you have a brand new nurse and the hospital requires them to precept and they’re not ready to translate what they’ve learned in the classroom themselves into a real-world scenario,” said Ledbetter, R-Newburgh. “(I’m concerned) that we’re going to … lose more nurses on the other end.”>>

I’m gonna try to make this as simple as possible. Basically I’ve been dealing with this woman since 2019 and at first I thought she was sweet, spiritual, and innocent, boyyyy was I wrong.. as time went on I started to see the real her. She’s very manipulative, a pathological liar, narcissist, and she has cluster B border line personality disorder. The night we met she fed me a bunch of lies which I uncovered overtime for example she told me the first night we met that she had been raped the year prior while she was in school(which I later found out was not true whatsoever. Months down the line she would even talk about exs that were “abusive” towards her which I later also found out wasn’t true. Fast forward to February of 2020 she ended up pregnant with our first child and a couple months into the pregnancy she just decided she’s not gonna deal with me anymore, so I ended up dating a woman I’ve known since middle school. She found out about this and next thing I know the sheriffs are serving me a restraining order accusing me of rape!!! When we showed up for court she immediately dropped the order before we even could talk to the judge. Fast forward to when my child was born in December of 2020 she texts me that she just had the baby and I asked if I could come up there and she said “no” and as time goes on she start’s blatantly keeping my child from me I didn’t meet my first born until February of 2021, and that’s when she tried to reconcile whatever situationship we had and would go on to apologize for the accusations saying her family foster her to do that so that I won’t be able to be in my child’s life which of course was a lie that was her decision. As time goes on the girl I was dating passed away and I was distraught so my baby mother comes around and I ended up coming up on money and decided to get us an apartment with our child two months into staying there I had a seizure while sleeping and instead of staying there to help she takes my child and leaves and proceeded to text my mom a picture of me in bed having the seizure and even tells my mom I was hitting her while having a seizure …. She blocked me again after that and a month later comes back around againnnn I guess basically to just have sex with me and then blocks me again and keeps me from my child, and at that point she was pregnant with my second child. I didn’t see my oldest for 6-7 months I had moved on to a nice relationship with a wonderful woman by that time and my second child was born, and that’s when I decided to take this stuff to court and the judge reprimanded her for isolating my kids from me and a custody order was placed for them to be with me every other weekend. During the custody court date she tried telling the judge I was abusive and all that nonsense and the judge seen right through it and didn’t pay it any attention, so two months after that she starts reaching out more and trying to have normal conversations and I would go along with it like a idiot and she wanted to hook up again and we did a few times, in which my girlfriend found out and we broke up and then weeks after that my baby moms ghost me again, still following the order tho. A month later my girlfriend and I got back on good terms and she notices and tries to get me to sabotage my relationship again! It doesn’t really work and I came to find out she would tell her family I was abusing her and a bunch of other ridiculous lies. This time CPS gets involved and investigates me for DV, which didn’t work. Now let’s fast forward to two years later, my babymom keeps coming in and out of my life(I don’t know why I let her honestly) she thinks about leaving to the military and I took the kids while she tries to go to the recruiting camp or whatever to see if she can enlist which she can’t because apparently she’s been committed by her mother a few times.. I stopped dealing with her for a while until some months back, she calls herself apologizing for everything she’s done to me and we start hanging out again but at this point I no longer am in love with her I wanted to go be with the woman I was still in love with that she thought she Sabotaged, and when I confessed this to her and that I can’t deal with how much she lies and plays these mental games and before I try to go home she tells me she’s gonna kill herself when I go home and I had her committed at her own request, she stayed for about a week and a half. Gets out and was put on meds and therapy which she stopped using after a couple of months. Me and the girl I’m in love with are still seeing each other and me and my babymoms stopped dealing with each other yet again. I get a knock on the door about a month or two later with getting served another restraining order falsely accusing me of abuse yet again I didn’t fight it cuz I’m really tired of her at this point. We started hanging out just taking the boys to the park and stuff like that just to try to bond with our kids as a family despite everything… she starts wanting to get intimate and I actually didn’t want to this time and then she starts telling me a bunch of lies about how she hasn’t been with anybody and a whole bunch of non sense that I know is false, and I snapped on her and called her out on all of it, I went wrong in the conversation and threw her phone back at her but it wasn’t in a aggressive way it hits her on the eye and I apologized and everything and I still say I don’t wanna be intimate with her and wanna be with the same woman that I’m in love with still, and then she begins to start that “I wanna kill myself” bullshit again except this time I don’t commit her cuz I realize she just tries to get pity from me and everybody else however she can. The next day she texts and asks for a bag she left at my house I told her I’d leave it on the porch for her. When she pulls up me and my girlfriend and her son are outside playing, out of nowhere her uncles jumps out her car and attacks me while my kids are watching from her car and my girlfriend’s son was right there in front of all this he then runs back to her car and they pull off quickly. The phone left her eye a lil black when I threw it at her and she even admitted that to my brother through text and to me in text that it was the phone, but typical crazy girl fashion she even texts my girlfriend after her and her uncle left a picture of her eye and says “you better leave him alone before this happens to you” she reported the incident to police weeks later but no charges were filed, CPS reached out to me yet again and I explain to them what happened over the phone and they didn’t seem to adamant about opening up a case. After the attack from her uncle I go to the courts and filed for motion of contempt for not following the custody arrangement on a few occasions, one of being that she had her u cake attack me with my kids present and one of the requirements on the order is to not let the other parent be harmed in any way in front of the children which the judge signed off on and we have court later today for. So yesterday she reaches out after it’s been almost two months since that whole attack from her uncle saying how she misses me and she wants to get the restraining order dropped, and she wants to sleep with me, and see me, and all that. And I actually let her come meet up with me at the mall just to kind of see where her headspace is. Long story short came to find out she was dating some guy and I told him all about her in which he agreed that she lies about every single thing and it’s almost impossible to believe a word out her mouth. this girl has some serious issues and I really want full custody of my boys because I’m scared for their safety being with her as she’s really unstable and flat out crazy, I know hiring an attorney would be the easiest route and me and my family are willing to go in on one but it’s so expensive that if I can do it without an attorney I would like that, would the judge wnat to hear about any of this at this custody violation hearing? Or should I open another case for that separately? I did mention to CPS when they asked me if I had any concerns about my kids being with her I didn’t really want to say too much because I was going to court anyway but I did tell them she smokes marijuana often and drinks very often. I know I should’ve just told them about her mental health problems right then and there but I was still kinda in shock they called me in the first place. Now most of this stuff is documented in texts and pictures, what would you do in this situation? Like what’s the best way of going about fighting her for full custody?

Broke up with my boyfriend because he was gaslighting me, blaming me for my feelings, not respecting my boundaries, and lying to me. He broke up with me three separate times in the month of April and told me he fell out of love with me and then changed his mind miraculously thirty minutes later. After the third time of him breaking up with me (and insisting upon seeing female friend he lied to me about and told me he would no longer be friends with) I decided I had enough and that I am worth way more than the fucked up way that he was treating me. He sobbed cried and begged me not to, promising that he would do “whatever it takes” to make it work (including going to therapy). I said we could talk in a month and take it from there but that right now I needed space and no contact until then. He couldn’t respect that, continued messaging me and leaving flowers outside my front door. I blocked him. He called me seven times from his friends phone (I ignored). Then I found out something from a friend. A girl we went to school with had told her that my boyfriend had made her uncomfortable at a party and was making moves on her. I texted the girl and, low and behold, it was true. She also sent me screenshots of the texts he had sent her a year ago (while we had been together for about eight months). One of them was after the party and said “your dress looked amazing last night”. Keep in mind that this was a girl that I had felt weird about and he convinced me that I was crazy and I apologized to him for being insecure and crazy. Then I find out I was right all along. He also used that scenario to remind me of how I had been crazy when I was feeling weird about a new female friend he had made. He justified lying about spending time alone with that woman because he didn’t want me to be crazy like I had been before. I’ve never called him names i’ve never been violent I’ve never done anything that could possibly be construed as crazy but that’s not the point.
I was completely done. I sent him one last text and blocked him for good. It’s been almost a week now. He’s sent me several emails, claiming he just tried to be friends with her. He’s convinced all his friends that he is the victim and I’m a heartless piece of shit that didn’t talk to him first before believing lies. There are no lies. She sent me screenshots. I’ve been angry and disgusted. I’m convinced he’s a narcissist. He’s admitted to not having empathy for me. I do also worry that maybe I did the wrong thing by completely cutting him off and blocking him everywhere without giving him the chance to talk. However in his emails he still takes no accountability and turns himself into the victim. We were together almost two years and I want to treat our relationship like a real relationship and him like a real person but I’m finding out more and more that he’s not a real person…
I’m conflicted on if I should respond or something. I feel like I shouldn’t and it’s so sad because I was so deeply in love with him and it was so incredibly real to me it seemed real to him too which is why this makes no sense. I wish I could get closure. Instead I am left with these unresolved feelings of shock anger betrayal sadness confusion.
I guess I’m confused on if I owe him a responsesjusybased on the fact that we were together for almost two and that he promised me he would change and go to therapy don’t know what to do