I turned 40 this year and skated by the majority of my life doing the bare minimum. I dropped out of high school and got my GED at 19, got my security guard certification and have been doing that for the past 19 or so years with various companies. I have little debt and can manage on a security guards meager salary, but turning 40 it feels like a bell rang for last call to do something besides barely survive. Security is a halfway decent job, but it’s not a career at least it doesn’t feel like it is. I know I wasted my time and should have figured this out much sooner than now I just never much direction in my life. I don’t know what to do I have no technical skills or certifications that qualify me for more than what I’m doing. I’ve spoken to people who work in the trades and the common knowledge I’m getting from them is that it can be a long physically demanding process before a real payoff. I’m not looking for the easy route just that I don’t know if I could handle the physically demanding work at my age. Is it too late for me? Am I gonna be a cautionary tale to get your crap together before it’s too late?

Hello i'm American in my high school there is a British guy who just recently moved and joined. He's a British "person" and me and lots of other people at my school are harrising him because

1. he's British and therefore an evil colonizer and everyone hates british "people" in America (It's what we Americans do best), He deserves all the crap he gets due to what his ancestors did to the world
2. Everyone hates his accent (honestly Brits have the worst accents on earth) He deserves all crap he gets because lets be honest, nothing annoys us Americans or makes us angry than hearing British accents.
3. Him being British offends so many people are my high school that they want him thrown out.

The great thing is that all the girls hate him because he's British but something thing i'm the one and the rest other othere guys are bad for bullying him.
You have to remember he's British and therefore and evil colonizer, a fascist with the most unlikeable accent possible.

To add context I am 25 year old male who makes just under 70k. Still living at home while waiting for my partner to finish her masters. My current credit score is 650 but I am paying off credit card debt from school and in the last few months it went from 600 to what it is currently. Projected by the end of the year to be rid of majority of bad debt and paying off my auto loan (only have 2k left). I invest $10 a day into S&P 500 ETF trusts if that matters as well as put 1k a month away into savings currently.
My mother works for the federal government making 190k. She has a mid 600 credit score. Her mortgage is around 4800 and she can refinance with me to cut that in half. She would have me as a co-signer and joint owner of the house. She also had many many medical issues so she’s planning for the future in the chance she passes in the next decade.
She told me that if she passes at a joint owner with me on the house it’s much easier for me to take over. I don’t plan to stay at this house any longer than a year as I want to move in with my partner.
I am concerned about not being able to qualify for any First time home buyer programs because of this and the fact it will hurt my credit. I am finishing my undergrad in hopes to go to law school.
What are the pros and cons of this? I am not the best with credit but would love help from people experienced.

So I'm from a place where we wore school uniforms. We had a summer and a winter uniform. The summer one included Roman sandals as the footwear for the younger kids. If you didn't have your Roman sandals, you had to wear dress shoes and calf high socks.
On the first day of school, one boy didn't have his sandals yet, so he had to wear shoes and socks. Just that small difference got him the nickname 'loser', which took 2+ years to drop.
So yeah, even when we were all wearing the same ugly grey clothes, something as small as that was enough to make him a target.

Hi everyone, I was wondering if anyone had advice or guidance for my situation.
My problem:
In high school and the beginning of college I was really into journalism and did summer internships at local newspapers in California and New York. I have a portfolio but most of it is from 2017-2021.
However, my interest in sophomore year of college really shifted from journalism to academia (you can see from my username, haha). I received a ton of grants for research in the Literature department, got a lot of fellowships, was accepted to various prestigious academic conferences, etc.
At the same time, I was still interested in journalism/documentary/TV news or working fully in comedy or scripted TV, so I did some work as a stand-up comedian and production assistant in college -- but not enough I feel.
I graduated in 2023 into the big Hollywood strike, so I took a fellowship in Europe to teach English.
This past year I worked in comedy production part-time, stand-up, and teaching full-time.
Now I am 24 and almost a year out of college. I realize that I am much more interested in a job in TV writing, journalism, or entertainment or production. My problem is I feel like my resume is simply inadequate for those jobs and I am almost a year out of college.
So I don't know what to do. If I want to get my Master's Degree or PhD in English/Literature I have a fantastic resume and feel confident in applying to any graduate program. The problem is that I want to work in TV writing, journalism, documentary, or reality TV -- more so than academia.
Pros/ things I am doing now pro-actively:
I'm 24 which is young, I know, but I also feel like I spent the last 4-5 years pursuing the wrong opportunities. My resume doesn't match up with the industries I want to work in, which are very competitive and lean toward people who racked up a ton of connections and internships in college.
Right now I am trying to think of people I could contact, and am also submitting some spec/freelance pieces to some magazines and news outlets so I can improve my portfolio. When I get back to the U.S there's also two mini-documentaries I plan to make so I have something to submit to TV news companies, documentary or reality production companies, etc. I also plan to take a highly-ranked class in screen-writing in LA and do more stand-up once I go back home (to Los Angeles) to make more connections.
I can also live at home in Los Angeles which is a huge help so I don't have to worry so much about rent and utilities. I am willing to work weird hours or not so great pay in the beginning in order to gain experience, etc.
I have a following of about 35,000 on Tik Tok from my comedy and personal life videos, but so far I do not know how to leverage that for a job in production or comedy or something related.
Cons/concerns:
I have 4-6 contacts in the field -- either people I worked under as a Production Assistant in college or met in passing who said they know people in the industry and could put me in touch with people. However, as I am reaching out to them, most are saying they cannot help at the moment.
I just feel really hopeless and like most of these companies or places -- whether it's a small production studio or a big company like CNN or HBO or Netflix -- do not hire from Indeed or LinkedIn, but from word of mouth. I have no connections or nepotism whatsoever from family or friends. I can contact people through my alumni network but it would not be anyone that I know personally. What would you do in my position?

[Part 1]
Day 3
I woke the next morning from the sunshine in my eyes. My head was resting ever so slightly on Eli's arm as we had both fallen asleep on my bed after I begged him to stay. I blanched in horror at the drool stain I had left on the arm of his white t-shirt.
I began to slowly move myself and retreat downstairs as the memories of the night before came flooding back. How I had broken, screaming in terror, and how Eli had saved me, not knowing the true reason he found me curled up on the floor crying.
As I stepped off the bed, my leg got snagged in the frilly bed cover, and I went crashing to the ground, making quite the noise as I landed. With a yawn, Eli's eyes opened, and I felt myself blushing as he turned to look at me.
We both kind of stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. Eli opened his mouth, then closed it again as if unsure of what to say.
"Coffee?" I asked quickly, filling the awkwardness of our situation.
"Please," Eli said, smiling.
In minutes, I had a pot brewing as I leaned against the kitchen counter. Eli was picking up the scattered photographs from the floor and looking at them quizzically.
"Why do you have pictures of the Harmons?" Eli asked, showing me the photos of the yellow-haired man and his family.
"Is that their names? I found them out in the barn under a blanket," I answered as I rooted around the cupboards for two mugs.
"In the barn? I cleaned it out just last week. No way I would have missed this trunk," Eli said while examining the wooden trunk with its simple rustic hinges. It was plain and unadorned with any embellishments. Basic as basic could be.
"Well, you must have missed it because it was there," I said, putting emphasis on the "was" in a way that reminded me of my mother chastising my father.
"That's so weird," he said, shifting through the photos while sitting at the table. I brought him a cup of coffee and sugar, and he began absentmindedly adding a lot of sugar to his coffee. About six scoops later, he began stirring and sipping it.
"Well, anyways, thanks for coming last night. I wasn't myself, I hope you know that I'm not some damsel in distress," I said quickly, like word vomit, and I even chuckled at the end, feeling like a total weirdo.
"What happened anyway? You didn't say last night," he said, putting the photos down in a jumble on the table.
I paused for a moment, considering how to answer. As I sipped my coffee, I stared out into the yard beside the barn where the scarecrow stood, glancing around the edge of the barn, hanging limply in his hole. His appearance once again sad and dejected instead of murderous and terrifying.
"I was just scared, I had a nightmare, and it just scared me," I said dumbly, trying not to turn crimson again under his intense gaze.
His eyes seemed to cut right through my lie, as if he were staring directly into my being before he simply glanced away out the window. We fell silent again, and I filled some moments by sipping my drink. It seemed to revitalize me; the sun and the company made me feel secure.
"Why were you here anyways?" I asked after a moment.
"I heard screaming, so I came running. I live just on the other side of the grass there, behind the barn," Eli said, pointing to the barn out the window.
"Must be really close, I didn't see any houses on the way in," I said, prying deeper into the situation.
"It's actually a trailer, maybe like two hundred yards from here. I was outside getting some air when I heard you scream. So, I came running," Eli said, finishing his cup of coffee and placing it in between us like a barrier, as if he was hiding something.
"Could you, uh, not do that?" Eli asked, with an uncertain grin on his face.
"What am I doing exactly?" I asked, startled for a moment, my stomach doing a sort of flip.
"It's just that you like stare at people. You've been staring at me for like my whole cup of coffee, I don't think you blinked the whole time," Eli said, averting his eyes shyly.
"No, I don't," I said until I realized he was right. I never noticed that about myself.
"Right, well, I've got to go. I am probably going to start painting today, so you might see me in a bit," Eli said, rising and heading to the door.
"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm for only a moment before releasing it like it was scalding hot.
Eli glanced at my hand for a moment, then at his arm, before he, too, blushed crimson.
"I just wanted to say thank you again. For last night, I mean. Well, what I mean is I appreciate it," I said, my eyes downcast in, for some reason, shame. Like he had seen me at my weakest and it weighed on my gaze appropriately.
"It was nothing, besides I didn't get much sleep with your constant snoring," Eli said, laughing at me.
"I so don't snore," I said, swatting at him but unable to control a smile creeping up onto my face.
After Eli left, I felt instantly colder, my eyes kept returning to the scarecrow. I grabbed my camera from upstairs and went out to the yard. I scanned the dirt for anything out of the ordinary. There was no blood, or anything on the dirt where the scarecrow stood just last night. I slowly made my way to the scarecrow, but nothing happened. I snapped a photo of the inanimate object, and it didn't even flinch. I poked it, but all I felt was straw underneath its clothes. I removed its mask, expecting a severed head, but it was just straw. Nothing was here but straw. I dropped the mask on the ground and took another photo proving it was just straw and nothing else.
An idea struck me as I regarded the source of my torment. If I planned to stay even one more night here, I needed to do something about this scarecrow. I rooted around in the barn, a series of tools hung from nails in the wall. On one hung what I was searching for. An old rusted shovel with a dirty wooden handle that was worn smooth from use.
I returned to the side of the barn beside the scarecrow, knowing for whatever reason this thing only came when night fell and didn't react at all when I moved or touched it during the day.
Before my morning coffee had even settled, I began to dig at the dusty earth, loose and easy to dig, it came away in shovelfuls. Within an hour, I had a fair-sized hole in front of me. Sweat dripped from my brow, and when I wiped under my eyes, they came away black from last night's makeup. Glancing at the field of grass and knowing Eli could appear at any time, I decided to head inside and shower. The hot water was a godsend, and I lingered for longer, letting the water drain down my head and back, my eyes closed, trying to forget the images from the last two nights. I should just pack up my car and leave right this minute. But how could I explain this to my family? I decided to go through with my plan and bury the scarecrow. I could last one more night if I prepared for it.
I left the shower and dressed modestly, in another one of my old rock t-shirts and a pair of shorts. I returned to the yard and with a satisfying push, I dropped the scarecrow into the pit. It fell with a nice thud, and I smiled at my power over it in the day; it's just at night when I should fear it.
As I threw the first shovel of dirt back on top, I heard a noise in the grass, and it parted, revealing Eli wearing the same pair of jeans and work boots, but he had changed his shirt to a plain black one. In each hand, he held cans of paint and a brush.
"Should I even ask why you are burying that old scarecrow?" He asked as he came to stand beside me.
"Probably best if you didn't," I admitted, leaning on the shovel.
"Well, I'm going to anyway. Polly, why are you burying that old scarecrow?" He asked, a rare smile coming to his face.
"Because it's been haunting me at night," I said bluntly.
"Mhm, yeah, okay. Fine, don't tell me. I've been meaning to get rid of it anyway, but normal people take things to the landfill," Eli said with a smirk as he turned to the house and began setting up for his painting.
I finished burying the scarecrow and stomped the dirt down flat. I finished my job by moving my car and parking it directly over top of the spot where I buried it.
Eli watched me curiously but didn't remark. I returned the shovel to the barn and went out into the yard. I decided to go for a hike around the property. I needed some time alone to think and unwind.
As I made my way through the grass, it began to confuse me. This had obviously been a large farmland, but how had the wild plants grown in such a thick, endless maze of greenery?
It gave me an eerie feeling, like I was being watched as the grass covered three-quarters of my body, like there would be something lurking out in the grass, crouched low, waiting for me.
After a half-hour or so, I came upon a clear lake, only big enough to be considered an old swimming hole, I thought as I dipped my hand into the cool water.
I took off my outer clothes and decided to go for a swim. I lowered myself in slowly and reveled at the cool water. The pond wasn't deep, but the water was clean. A small rope swing had been hung from a large oak tree that bordered the pond. It also provided a nice layer of shade that made it the ideal spot to spend the day. I floated on my back in the water for what seemed like hours. The day seemed to slip away from me. A small beach of sand sat at one side of the pond, so I lay out in the sun and closed my eyes. The warm day warmed my soul, and soon I felt myself drifting off into sleep.
I awoke to the sound of crickets and darkness. I couldn't believe it. I had slept through the day; the long nights had finally caught up to me, and now I was stuck far away from the farmhouse. I didn't know if my plan with the scarecrow had worked, and this wasn't the place to test my theory.
A full moon lay overhead, casting a silvery glow on the world before me. A sea of grass swayed gently in the wind, sending shivers down it in shuddering waves. I looked around, but I was thankfully alone, just the crickets chirping along melodically as my only companions.
I had to make it back to the house, so I started on my way, my hands trailing along the tall grass. The pale light played easily on the deep green grass. Step by step, I made my way back towards the farmhouse and the barn, throwing caution to the wind, and I started to jog along, anything to get back faster. I would have to find Eli; maybe if we were together, he could stop it like before.
If I thought the field was creepy during the day, by night, it was a whole new world. Every sound made my heart stop for a beat before restarting in protest. When all of a sudden, the crickets stopped chirping. I dropped to my knees, letting the long grass cover me from sight. Through the strands, I could make out a shape moving slowly through the tall grass, the swish of the plants as it made its passage through them. My heart dropped. Was this Eli looking for me, or was it the scarecrow come for me?
That's when I heard a voice, a voice cutting through the silence. It started off quiet and raspy as it sang an eerie children's song.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
I was frozen to the spot. It hadn't found me, but it knew I was in the grass somewhere. Now, with each word, chewed up and spat out like it was unhappy with it, now it was accompanied by the whistle of something in the air and a slicing sound as it cut through the grass around me.
It finished another round of its song, but now it stood within feet of me, its blade whistling as it cut. I took a moment to ready myself, and as it raised its blade to cut through the grass I hid in, I dashed out of my hiding spot and slammed into it. But nothing resisted me; I fell through it like it was a ghost.
In a tangle of limbs, I landed hard on the ground and tried quickly rolling to my feet. The blade of its weapon pierced the earth beside me. Now I could see it was a two-handed scythe the scarecrow carried, but something was off, its hands were human. Pale milky skin like a newborn baby. I had little time to examine the creature except for the canvas bag over its head. Two large black eyes came out of the slits that leaked a dark red blood like tears.
It screeched loudly and swung its scythe, but it was slow, and I took off through the grass in the direction of what I hoped was the farmhouse.
I completely gave up all pretense of hiding and sprinted as fast as I could without looking back. The grass seemed to part for me as I ran in terror. I was just glad that in high school, I had taken track as it was paying off now.
I could hear the noise of footsteps behind me, but I never turned. I ran and ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst Something silver flashed to my left, and I tripped over something hard and unexpected. The wind was driven from my lungs as my chin slammed hard into the earth. I scrambled back, trying to escape, but the scarecrow was on me, its blade flashing angrily in the pale moonlight.
I wanted to move, I wanted to fight, but my body was weak and unable to catch its breath, and I lay there helpless as it swung its scythe towards me. I closed my eyes in fear, but I only heard the thud of dirt before I opened my eyes. The scythe was discarded, and the scarecrow stood staring at me.
It seemed to be struggling with something, one hand reached out towards me only to be snapped back to its side. A roar of rage pierced the canvas sack over its head as it struggled against its invisible bonds. For a moment, I thought I saw something behind it, three sets of hands holding it back. One feminine in nature, and the other two must have belonged to children. In a flash, I saw a beautiful woman who looked vaguely familiar with her long brown hair and plain dress.
"Run," she moaned as the scarecrow swung around wildly.
I didn't hesitate and fled, my breath had returned, and while my body still ached from my fall, I powered on, knowing this was the only respite I would receive tonight.
In the distance, I could see a small sheet metal shape; Eli's trailer was slowly coming closer as I ran, and I beelined it for the trailer. I could hear the footsteps behind me again as the scarecrow resumed its chase after me.
I reached the old trailer and banged on the door as loud as I could; I rattled the handle, but it was locked.
"Eli, it's me. It's Polly, please let me in. Please," I begged as I banged over and over again on the door of his trailer.
Nothing responded to me, and the trailer was dark. The single window in the back held no life inside the trailer. From the trailer, I couldn't tell which direction the farmhouse was in the dark, so I fled into the tall grass and crouched low, watching the clearing around the trailer.
While I caught my breath, I watched the scarecrow enter the clearing, its scythe back in its hand as it circled the trailer. When its raspy voice began singing again low and quiet, only loud enough for me to hear.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The song made me shiver uncontrollably at the lyrics and the voice; it sounded demented like a crazy person letting their demons out into a nursery rhyme.
I lay perfectly still; for some reason, it couldn't find me. This creature I assumed was all-knowing seemed to have some very human weaknesses. It moved and talked like a human, even had certain body parts that were from a human; it even felt human the way it chased and reacted.
The scarecrow moved on through the tall grass, and I let out a sigh of relief as it lost my trail. How terrifying that beast was. In my pocket was the keys to my car. Eli had told me that the farmhouse was fairly close to his trailer. I had to navigate to the car, then drive as fast as I can away from this place. The fact that I hadn't left already because I was worried about money was insane. Who cares, I could drive to Barb's and demand my money back. Go home and just tell my parents the truth. The whole reason for actually leaving home this summer, why I was actually here in this field shivering uncontrollably in fear. But I couldn't think about that now, not now, there will be time to deal with that later. Now I needed to focus on staying alive, getting to the car, and getting out of here.
I went in the direction the scarecrow had; he knew the land better than I did, and every noise I made in the silence of the night made my heart drop. It took all my courage there and then to take one step forward, then another. I felt like I was going to be sick; my stomach was in knots to where it felt like even if I was sick, the only thing to come out would be only bile and stomach acid.
With each careful step, I made my way closer to the farmhouse and the scarecrow. Through the darkness, I could see my goal, the farmhouse, and the barn. Within minutes, I had made it securely to the farmhouse yard.
My car still sat in the same spot overtop of the hole where I buried the scarecrow. In the moonlight, I could see that the dirt had not been disturbed.
The scarecrow was nowhere to be seen, and I cautiously made my way to my car, my keys in my hand as I approached the driver's door. I hadn't locked the car, and it opened on the first try. I turned on my car as quietly as I could, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Something landed heavily on top of the roof of my car, making it dent inwards slightly. With horror, I saw the scarecrow swing its scythe into the back window of my car. With a crash, the glass shattered inwards; I put my car into gear and roared away down the lane. In my rearview mirror, I couldn't see anything, so I swerved back and forth, trying to shake the creature from the roof of my car when the scythe crashed in through the front window, making a hole just large enough for it.
The glass spidered, and I couldn't see out the window very well. I swerved down the road, but the scythe remained in the car, allowing the creature purchase. In a panic, I spun my wheel wildly, trying to dislodge it, but I lost control, and soon felt something crash into the front of my car. The airbag went off in my face, and I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt. I slammed hard into something else, and my vision went dark. I was in a daze; I must have passed out because I don't remember a lot of what happened next. I felt the car door open with a crunching tear, and it landed loudly as it was torn off. My body being grabbed and tossed on the ground. I felt no pain, just a gentle numbness. I felt blood on my head as I raised my arm to touch my face.
Then just blackness, complete, and empty just feelings, fear, unease, sadness. My eyes opened, and the scarecrow was overtop of me. Pain on my chest and my vision went dark again. Coughing as something poured down my throat. I couldn't breathe, why couldn't I breathe?
My eyes opened one last time, and I saw the scarecrow pouring a dark liquid from its mouth directly into my mouth and eyes. My vision was red and bloody before I closed them one last time.
The words of its song echoed into the emptiness of my thoughts.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek?
The world it claims that I be not clean.
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see,
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself slipping away, the sounds of the night fading into oblivion.
Day 4
When I awoke, it was morning, and I found myself lying in a hospital bed. My head throbbed with pain, and my body ached all over. The memories of the terrifying night flooded back to me, and I shuddered involuntarily.
A nurse entered the room, her kind eyes filled with concern. "You're awake," she said softly, her voice gentle like a soothing balm. "You're lucky to be alive. You were found unconscious by the side of the road next to your car. Do you remember what happened?"
I tried to speak, but my throat felt raw and dry. I croaked out a few words, barely audible. "The scarecrow... it attacked me..."
The nurse frowned, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Scarecrow? What scarecrow?"
My heart raced with panic as I realized the truth. Had it all been a nightmare? But the pain in my body felt too real, the memories too vivid to be mere hallucinations.
I tried to explain, to tell her about the terrifying creature that had pursued me through the night, but she only looked at me with concern, as if I were delusional.
"I'll get the doctor, and there is a young man who brought you in. He has been here all morning," the nurse said with a sly wink.
After a few minutes, she came back with Eli and a doctor, both of whom smiled gently at me through the window. The doctor came in first and went over my health with me. I had a concussion and bruises all over my body. A generous-sized cut from some glass on my scalp had been stitched and bandaged. My mind flashed back to the night before. How the scarecrow had filled me with its gooey red blood.
"Did you find anything else?" I asked cautiously, trying to avoid another scandal like with the nurse.
"No, as long as you have someone to pick you up and take you home, you are free to go. That nice young man out there said he would take you back home," the doctor said, pointing to Eli as he rose with a slight grunt.
I glanced at Eli, and he waved uncertainly at me. The doctor went out and began talking to Eli for a few minutes.
While I waited, my mind began to have strange thoughts. Something was wrong; I felt weird. My vision turned red, and I began to see images before my eyes.
The Harmons. They flashed before my eyes in real-time—the husband hugging his wife, then swinging his kids around, chopping wood outback next to the barn while his wife cooked in the kitchen.
As Eli entered the room, the visions stopped suddenly. Like my saving angel for the third time now, I was extremely grateful to Eli.
"Heyyyyy," Eli said, elongating the word in a sort of familiar yet awkward way.
"Hi," I said, closing my eyes and letting my embarrassment pass in only a few seconds.
"Why is it that fifty percent of the times we meet, you're in serious trouble?" Eli asked, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.
"Oh, you know me, bad luck, I guess," I said simply, becoming aware that under my blankets, I was in a backless hospital gown, and he was inches away from me.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin as a sort of cover for my appearance, but Eli didn't seem to notice. He continued talking to me. It was actually really sweet the way he seemed to care for me.
"Anyways, the doctor said I could take you back to the farmhouse to rest," Eli said.
"No," I said suddenly, becoming serious.
"What? Why not?" Eli asked.
"I just, I just can't right now. I'll tell you later. Just, we can't spend the night anywhere near the farm," I said, grabbing him by the arm, hoping to sway him.
"Well, I mean, if you want, we can grab your stuff, and my house can literally go anywhere," Eli said in an offhand manner, as if he had expected this.
"Promise?" I asked, trying not to seem too afraid.
Within the hour, we had returned to the farmhouse. The hole I dug was still covered over, and I stared at it as we parked in Eli's black pickup truck.
I ran inside and quickly got changed into my only clean clothes, grabbing everything I had from the farmhouse. I paused at the dinner table, looking down at the photographs of the Harmons and thinking back to that weird moment in the hospital with that odd vision.
The day was getting longer, and I hurried back to Eli, waiting in the pickup truck. I threw my bag in the back and climbed in beside him. He smiled and backtracked down the lane. We turned to the left and went down a side road where we came upon my poor old car. It had crashed directly into a tree, and the whole front part of the car had been destroyed. Fluid leaked all over the road, and I almost shed a tear for my departed friend. We had traveled far together. I grabbed a few things from the car, but something was off about the car. The front door had been knocked off and was discarded on the far side of the road. It looked impossible; the door hadn't even hit the tree.
Eli hooked his truck up to his trailer, and we sped off, leaving the property behind us. We headed into town and found a pullout on the side of the road with a set of bathrooms to camp at for the night. Eli's trailer was messy but cozy. He had laundry strewn over most surfaces, but it didn't smell bad.
The room consisted of a small kitchen with a bed in one corner. There were also a lot of posters and artwork on the walls. I examined one of a pretty girl with long raven-black hair. It was a realist painting, obviously taken from real life.
"Who is this?" I asked as Eli made us some food.
"That is just a friend," Eli said, glancing at the painting he had done.
"Well, she is a pretty friend," I said, enjoying watching the back of his ears turn bright red.
"Dinner's ready," he said, pouring the mixture of food he had made onto a pair of plates.
Eli served me and handed me a can of Coke to drink. I thanked him and sat on his bed. It was the only serviceable piece of furniture in the whole trailer. We both sat in silence for a moment while we ate. I could tell something was bothering Eli as he kept making glances toward me.
"What? What is it, Eli? Just say it," I said between bites.
"Tell me what happened, Polly. Tell me why you were burying the scarecrow, why you were passed out in the road with straw in your hair. Tell me why you were muttering about the Harmons and a scarecrow when I found you," Eli said suddenly, as if he were unloading a machine gun.
I looked Eli square in the face and relented. I told him about the last couple of nights at the farmhouse, about how the scarecrow had been tormenting me every night. About how he had saved me and how last night I had fled through the fields to his trailer and then to my car. I told him about the vision I had about the Harmons in the hospital. By the end of it, I was in tears. I felt so foolish and childish.
Eli took it in stride. He asked a few questions during my retelling, but by the end of it, he was silent. Tears fell down my face and landed in my lap. We had both put our plates on the counter, and Eli hugged me. He put his arms around me, and I nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling comforted again in him at the lowest points of my life.
With a gentle hand, he wiped away my tears, and I smiled, letting a nervous laugh escape my lips. I looked up into his face and felt his stare before I saw it. His pale blue eyes shone with comfort, and then his lips were on mine as he kissed me quickly before pulling away slightly.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. That was insensitive of me. You're sad, and I took advantage of that," Eli said, moving back slightly.
"Shut up," I said, and grabbed his shirt, bringing him back in.

I'm struggling in my marriage lately and could use some advice.
Quick summary: My wife and I are in our late 30s and have been together for nearly 20 years since we were 18. We have two wonderful children (a baby and a preschooler). We've been best friends, overall have had a happy, loving, mostly drama free life together. Our biggest issue over the years has been that I'm high libido, my wife has low libido, and I've often felt my wife can be a bit self absorbed and not really put in much effort to meet me in the middle when it comes to our love languages, putting in effort for each other, etc. I've always felt like the partner who cared more about quality time and emotional intimacy as well.
In the past year or so, we had the most drama we've ever had in 20 years when my wife admitted to me that she had always been lying to me about our first months dating - she had always said she was never with anyone else since our first date (our relationship anniversary we had always celebrated as a sweet holiday) and she actually was secretly still going to see her high school ex boyfriend during that time (who had cheated on her) and apparently had sex with him just once during that time. She also admitted that she had cheated on me (just kissing) with another person during that time. She only admitted this to me because I had suspected her of lying and did something wrong myself by reading parts of her personal journal (in which I read that she had recently been "infatuated" with a work colleague and had also been dreaming about, sexually fantasizing about, and occasionally dwelling on her high school ex over the years (who she had cut off contact with nearly 20 years ago), even looking him up recently and crying while seeing his current life, but saying that she was mad about how he treated her and that me and our kids deserve her more than he does). I also had read that she wasn't attracted to me at times and had issues with my weight gain over the years. We both apologized for the things we had done wrong and wanted to work to be better.
This all led to us having many emotional discussions and working to improve our relationship and be closer, and I basically went into a depression for many months after learning about her cheating and thoughts about other men. I lost a lot of weight and got in the best shape I've been in for many years. My wife was trying to put in some effort to talk with me and be closer, but I was often frustrated because even after learning about the cheating and everything, it still felt like I was responsible for initiating discussions and leading our work together: I downloaded relationship apps for us to do together and have intimate conversations about, etc.
During this time I asked my wife what things would make her feel closer with me, and she said she "needs emotional intimacy to want physical intimacy" and that she'd like to do regular date nights where we take turns planning them for each other. I wanted to do that for her so we started them. The first date nights I led, I put a lot of thought into and wrote her a love letter, planned romantic activities. Then when it was her turn to lead date night, it was clear she hadn't planned anything. Didn't prepare anything. She wanted to reschedule hers at the last minute sometimes because she was tired from work or something. This continued for a while until finally we both just stopped the date nights because it felt more like a chore.
I was still processing the cheating and my own insecurities for a while, and I started therapy for the first time ever, read books, listened to podcasts, learned about attachment theory and felt insights that my wife might have avoidant attachment and be averse to intimacy, while I think I've generally been secure, but I lean toward anxious when I feel threatened. But I was sad because while I was doing all this learning, my wife seemed to be doing nothing to try and learn and discuss with me and work on things.
I tried a few times over the months to gently mention that to her and ask her about if she was doing anything like this in her own therapy, but she would get defensive and say it "feels like she can never do enough" and basically to get off her back about it (even though I would ask rarely and try to be very kind and understanding about it). Basically I was just feeling sad that she didn't seem to care or want to put in the effort like I was (and I told her this, but again, same responses).
My wife has been kind of obsessed with work and busy, but it's felt like when she does have time she hasn't been prioritizing me or our marriage, while I have been. I've tried to give her hugs or be closer to her and she often bristles and doesn't seem interested. She hasn't been putting any effort into her appearance, especially not for me (she seems to care more about looking good at work than looking good for me) while I feel like I'm always wanting to look good for her. She's turned me down for physical intimacy quite a bit recently and basically if I don't initiate, we can go for a month without any sex easily. She just doesn't seem to have any libido at all.
Learning about her cheating and thoughts of other people made me feel really insecure about how she thinks of me and if she's really attracted to me. Since I'm finally in better shape, I've felt more confident but she hasn't been making me feel desired by her. I've never been with anyone other than her in my life, and I've been feeling less attracted to her since it feels like she isn't that interested in me romantically, and I've been thinking more about wanting to feel desired and loved, and kind of wanting to have a woman flirt with me or hit on me or something just to feel validated.
Recently I tried sharing with her how I'm feeling sad and a bit unwanted by her, wondering if she's attracted to me or if it's really low libido on her part, feeling like I'm old and not having the love and intimacy I want in a marriage. She seemed so thrown off by that, said she does just have very low libido and doesn't really think about sex, and she is attracted to me. I tried to let her know that regardless of that, I feel like she hasn't been prioritizing or putting effort into being close with me, and when I've tried to do those things she seems uninterested.
Her response is that she's just so busy with work, and we have two young kids and it's difficult, and she just has no energy for any of that. We split our parenting duties equally, I do most of the cleaning in our household, we both work full time, but I feel like I still want to put in effort for our marriage and closeness but she doesn't. Her view seems to be that she just can't, doesn't have the ability, whereas I feel like she finds the energy to do lots of other things she wants to do - she's just not prioritizing me and us. Again, it feels like I have to push her repeatedly to ever have intimacy with her of any type. She acknowledges that she has intimacy issues as well and is avoidant, but then will still insist that she just doesn't have energy for what I want.
It feels like there's always an excuse, and while I want to be understanding and gentle with her about it, I'm just feeling lonely in my marriage. Even when I try to reach out to her and emotionally explain this, it's like she brushes it off and doesn't seem too worried about me. Or if I say I want more intimacy, physically and emotionally, she tends to hone in on just the sexual part like that's all I want, but I want to feel close, in love. I want her to love me and desire me. But the less I feel that from her, the less I feel it towards her, and that worries me.
What can I do in this situation? Is there any way to get through to her? I can't imagine ever leaving her, we love our family and our children, but I feel kind of like I'm stuck in a situation where I'm not feeling fulfilled... I was content with that before I learned about the cheating and her lying to me, but ever since that it's harder for me to accept her not putting in effort or prioritizing our marriage and responding to all of my efforts.

Hello i'm American in my high school there is a British guy who just recently moved and joined. He's a British "person" and me and lots of other people at my school are harrising him because
1) he's British and therefore an evil colonizer and everyone hates british "people" in America (It's what we Americans do best), He deserves all the crap he gets due to what his ancestors did to the world
2) Everyone hates his accent (honestly Brits have the worst accents on earth) He deserves all crap he gets because lets be honest, nothing annoys us Americans or makes us angry than hearing British accents.
3) Him being British offends so many people are my high school that they want him thrown out.
The great thing is that all the girls hate him because he's British but something thing i'm the one and the rest other othere guys are bad for bullying him.
You have to remember he's British and therefore and evil colonizer, a fascist with the most unlikeable accent possible.

So I had a dream last night that my family members were criticizing me not pushing my kid hard enough in choosing "useful" degree. A little background, I'm asian so getting a "practical" degree is typical asian thinking. My daughter's graduating high school in 2 weeks and she's accepted into a 4-year state college with undecided major. So, it's normal everyone is asking what she is going to study and what they feel the best career choice should be. I put on "not worrying face" and telling everyone I let her decide, it's her life. I don't have control over it. However, deep inside I do worry about her.
It's seem I tend to run into 2 different types, either the typical asian, super into academics or very relaxed, no worry at all. Also some are passive aggressive, they tell you they are not "tiger" mom but they are in fact push their kids a lot.

This is kind of a heavy post, I'm sorry for posting it here but I didn't know where else would be appropriate
Hi El Pasoans. My mother has been homeless in El Paso for around a decade, beginning when I was in high school. For a few years I was able to keep contact with her, even when she lost her phone and her mental health went really south. When I grew up and moved away, I kept tabs by calling around shelters downtown until someone directed me to her. Then, around 2018, she just vanished. I was the only one in the family still searching for her. It felt like everyone else had just given up.
I finally found a thread of hope around February this year when I called the El Paso Homeless Coalition. The lady who helped me was extremely kind but was only able to tell me that my mom is somewhere safe, she has a case manager and is getting treatment, but she isn't doing well and has requested no contact. I am not allowed to call back or to call the case manager. "Not doing well" could mean so many things, but knowing her history I'm worried she's going into renal failure again.
My mom has severe mental health issues, as well as health complications from Hep C and long term addiction. Growing up I knew her as a witty, warm lady with a great sense of humor, but I watched first hand as that person crumbled away. She has severe paranoia and delusions, and towards the end of my contact with her she was having memory issues.
It hurts so bad, but if my mom wants to be left alone, I want to respect that decision. I'm not looking to track her down and show up at whatever facility she's at demanding answers. But I am worried that this is where it all ends. If she passes away, how will anyone in the family find out? I keep thinking about her stuck somewhere thinking she's forgotten and unloved when she isn't. I keep imagining her passing and being treated the way I've seen so many homeless people be treated when they die. I just want closure. I'm so tired.

Forecasting the exact level of the Nifty 50 Index one year from now involves a significant degree of uncertainty due to market volatility, economic conditions, and other factors. However, we can provide a reasoned projection based on current trends, technical analysis, and fundamental factors.
Technical Analysis Perspective 1. Current Bullish Trend: The Nifty 50 is currently in a bullish trend, characterized by higher highs and higher lows. If this trend continues, the index could see substantial gains over the next year. 2. Support and Resistance Levels: Key support levels around 21,600-22,300 provide a strong base, while resistance levels around 23,000-23,500 need to be broken for further upside. 3. Moving Averages: Long-term moving averages (e.g., 200-day SMA) indicate a sustained uptrend, supporting bullish projections.
Fundamental Perspective 1. Economic Growth: India's economic recovery post-COVID, robust GDP growth, and strong corporate earnings could drive the Nifty 50 higher. 2. Monetary Policy: Favorable interest rates and liquidity conditions provided by the Reserve Bank of India could support market growth. 3. Global Market Sentiment: Global economic conditions and investor sentiment will also play crucial roles.
Potential Scenarios - Bullish Scenario: If the current trend and positive economic indicators continue, the Nifty 50 could potentially reach levels around 25,000-26,000. - Bearish Scenario: If there are economic setbacks, geopolitical tensions, or adverse global market conditions, the index might struggle to stay above current levels, potentially testing lower supports around 21,000-22,000.
Conclusion While it is challenging to predict exact levels, considering the current bullish trend and favorable economic conditions, the Nifty 50 has the potential to reach around 25,000-26,000 within a year, assuming continued positive momentum. However, investors should remain cautious of potential risks and market volatility.

NIFTY

INDIASTOCK

INVESTING

Good day y'all, I'm a student filmmaker from the philippines currently in film school! I do freelance sound work, primarily for short films as their production sound mixer.
In a recent internship with a production house I hung around with the sound team and learned more about how they do live sound for bigger productions in my country. I've learned a lot of the things i know about sound through online sources so I had a different understanding about sound and what they do on set which threw me for a loop getting more info about how they run sound in professional settings.
Here's some discrepencies that I noticed: - Metadata input is non existent, we still use paper log sheets or not log at all - They primarily dont use Timecode, most productions clap sync (even on high end productions) - Smart slates are very uncommon if not forgotten entirely - We use Leukoplast (the medical tape) and not use any lav foams/concealers to lessen clothing rustle - Boom operators dont usually have sound feeds/IFBs to hear what they are booming - A lot of the sound people have no formal live sound training - Sometimes they just have a random PA hold the boom - They dont really set up any sound isolation for ACs, echoey rooms, etc. or even try to reduce natural sounds (footsteps, etc.) - The workflow is usually: Get to set > Lav up > Wait to roll > Roll > Take Lavs back > Turn in for the day (Lavs stay on talent even during wardrobe changes because they apply the medical tape straight to skin - They dont do wild tracks/wild sound for lines with the actors in case of bad audio - Sound is more thought of in terms of post work instead of on site work so the editors have more work to do
I'm really curious as to what sound is like in other countries because I want to improve my work to help better sound in productions from my country in the future. I know that it starts with us the sound mixers to get better sound and i want to apply what I learned to projects i take!
So, What's production sound like in your country? I'm really interested in how your work is like!

A lot of people on this subreddit have difficulty finding clothes that fit - personally i've tried virtually every tee-shirt brand in the world and none of them fit me that well. Recently i've had access to a sewing machine and come to realize that the most basic sewing skills can transform all the clothes I have laying around that don't fit - even those Hanes merch shirts I get from events that don't ever come in tall sizes.
Shirt Hemming: Shirt hemming is super helpful when I buy tall-slim shirts that are too long - i'm 6'6" but all the "tall" shirts are a little too long, while the not-tall options are too short or baggy. The solution for me is to buy the tall shirt and hem just a little. This is SUPER easily done with hem tape - all you need is an iron and the tape is super cheap too.
Shirt Slimming: When I have shirts that are too baggy, I can easily turn the shirt inside out, sew new hem lines down the sides. I was able to take an XL Hanes shirt from school I always wanted to wear, and turned it into a Medium-Tall using this method. You just have to be careful to not take off too much so compare the size of your big shirt with shirts that fit you around well.
I highly recommend anyone who has difficulty with clothing consider making these adjustments yourself and hopefully end up with a much better wardrobe in the end!

Hi everyone, I was wondering if anyone had advice or guidance for my situation.
My problem:
In high school and the beginning of college I was really into journalism and did summer internships at local newspapers in California and New York. I have a portfolio but most of it is from 2017-2021.
However, my interest in sophomore year of college really shifted from journalism to academia. I received a ton of grants for research in the Literature department, got a lot of fellowships, was accepted to various prestigious academic conferences, etc.
At the same time, I was still interested in journalism/documentary/TV news or working fully in comedy or scripted TV, so I did some work as a stand-up comedian and production assistant in college -- but not enough I feel.
I graduated in 2023 into the big Hollywood strike, so I took a fellowship in Europe to teach English.
This past year I worked in comedy production part-time, stand-up, and teaching full-time.
Now I am 24 and almost a year out of college. I realize that I am much more interested in a job in TV writing, journalism, or entertainment or production. My problem is I feel like my resume is simply inadequate for those jobs and I am almost a year out of college.
So I don't know what to do. If I want to get my Master's Degree or PhD in English/Literature I have a fantastic resume and feel confident in applying to any graduate program. The problem is that I want to work in TV writing, journalism, documentary, or reality TV -- more so than academia.
Pros/ things I am doing now pro-actively:
I'm 24 which is young, I know, but I also feel like I spent the last 4-5 years pursuing the wrong opportunities. My resume doesn't match up with the industries I want to work in, which are very competitive and lean toward people who racked up a ton of connections and internships in college.
Right now I am trying to think of people I could contact, and am also submitting some spec/freelance pieces to some magazines and news outlets so I can improve my portfolio. When I get back to the U.S there's also two mini-documentaries I plan to make so I have something to submit to TV news companies, documentary or reality production companies, etc. I also plan to take a highly-ranked class in screen-writing in LA and do more stand-up once I go back home (to Los Angeles) to make more connections.
I can also live at home in Los Angeles which is a huge help so I don't have to worry so much about rent and utilities. I am willing to work weird hours or not so great pay in the beginning in order to gain experience, etc.
I have a following of about 35,000 on Tik Tok from my comedy and personal life videos, but so far I do not know how to leverage that for a job in production or comedy or something related.
Cons/concerns:
I have 4-6 contacts in the field -- either people I worked under as a Production Assistant in college or met in passing who said they know people in the industry and could put me in touch with people. However, as I am reaching out to them, most are saying they cannot help at the moment.
I just feel really hopeless and like most of these companies or places -- whether it's a small production studio or a big company like CNN or HBO or Netflix -- do not hire from Indeed or LinkedIn, but from word of mouth. I have no connections or nepotism whatsoever from family or friends. I can contact people through my alumni network but it would not be anyone that I know personally. What would you do in my position?

This keeps getting removed by Reddits filters on other subs. Fingers crossed this one gets through 🤞
HiHi :D I have always struggled to get an adequate amount of calories; with a vegan lifestyle it's become a little harder obviously.
I'm from Pakistan, so stuff like tofu and other soy derived products are really expensive here. Then there's seitan, but the WTF method takes way too much time and I end up making a mess. I haven't been able to find vital wheat gluten at a fair price here so can't use that asw :/
So beans! They're cheap here. But I've never boiled them ever, so idk how to get them right. I don't have a pressure cooker or an instant pot btw!! Please lmk what I can do here
I really need some high calorie-ish recipes which don't take a lot of time to make.
TYTY

I hate existing I hate it. I hate being alive. I hate waking up in the morning just to do whatever bs for the day, go to bed, and do it all over again the next. I hate that all my life it just feels like all I am doing is just waiting for death. There is nothing I really want to do anymore. Games that I love to play now only gets opened and then closed repeatedly. Any games that are actually getting played just feels like I just going through the motions formed by habit over the years. The same thing is starting to happen to all the music I like too. I just end up skipping through half of my playlist.
Right now I am an archaeologist. However my wrists are both in pain due to what is likely carpal tunnel syndrome and my shoulders are also struggling to not hurt. I keep looking for other possible career options but all I see are ones I am not qualified for or ones that make less than what I am currently earning. I understand that I am lazy, but I still have a semblance of a work ethic. However, currently the cost of living and the housing market is just so high that I don’t see the point of even trying to survive. I know that my stepfather has worked his ass off his whole life but is still struggling to retire. In my case I doubt I ever will. In the case that healthcare takes a sudden turn to allow for us to work into our 80s or 90s that would feel even worse. Work for an entire lifetime with no real reward at the end.
Currently I am taking a ux design course, but quite honestly, within a week I was really to quit. Being in school gave me such overwhelming stress and anxiety that I tried to kill myself the first time around.
I know that all I am doing is just making an excuse for inaction and avoiding self improvement, but I just feel tired. I am just tired of waking up everyday, just barely surviving pathetically, still living with my parents. I know that all this is just worthless self pity. I know that I can get help. But I feel like suicide is the only real answer. Any time someone tells me about how life is worth living I just can’t believe them.
The real reason I haven’t tried to commit suicide again is that the last time I tried to take my life I ended up surviving with no permanent damage. What if the next time I end up surviving with such a debilitating injury that I won’t even be able to try again. I know the best solution is probably to either slit my throat, or stab my self through the chest and either catch the heart or puncture a lung and drown in my blood. Of course both options sound extremely painful and I am a coward that avoids pain.

I (15F) have a friend (15F) that I've known for five years now. In 8th grade, she started vaping because of the girls on our school's volleyball team. I wasn't happy about it, but she never brought that stuff around me so I had no problem with it. In late 9th grade or the summer before 10th grade, she started talking to an old friend and started smoking weed with her. Again, she never brought it around me so I didn't say anything, even if I didn't like it. We both have a summer job in food service at an amusement park. She would tell our manager that she was coming in late with one of our coworkers because the coworker's mom is picking her up. She, the coworker, and the coworker's mom would smoke all smoke together. My friend and coworker came into work high almost every day. I wanted to distance myself, I didn't like that she would do that, but I stayed with her regardless. I never reported her to the manager or anything because I didn't want to get her in trouble. I loved her more than anything, I still do. I considered her my best friend.
Recently, she's been hanging out with people who also smoke. Sometimes at lunch she would go and talk to them for a few minutes before coming back to our table. She sits with them everyday. She left me to sit by myself. She likes her smoker friends more than me. Recently, it seems like she likes everyone else so much more than me. Around me, she doesn't talk much. But the second a mutual friend is with us, she's all talk. I texted her one night asking if she still liked me because I just needed to hear it at that point. She said she does, but I couldn't tell if she meant it or if she was just saying it. I'll be the first to admit, I'm jealous of her smoker friends. What do they have that I don't? Why doesn't she laugh or smile like that around me anymore? Everytime she asks her mom to hang out with me, her mom says no. But is it really her mom saying no? She's always able to go out with her other friends though. I don't get it. If she doesn't like me, she should just say it. I want to still be her friend, but I don't know if she feels the same way. I'm probably just being overdramatic about this, but I'm not happy. I want her back.