Unblocking your own phone number rogers

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2011.11.22 03:05 nivekmai WhatsApp Reddit

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2010.12.28 21:32 Jobs in Toronto

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2018.12.31 05:57 chunzi123 EntitledBitch

A sub to post and read about experiences with people who think they can always get their own way and are better than everyone. Entitled People. Note: This subreddit or its name in no way intends to spread hate or abuse or to offend any party, it was created for story sharing and entertainment.
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2024.05.22 02:22 Few-Raisin4165 I thought everything was going great, what happened? I (30M) and (23F) keeps saying “I can’t give you time or affection”

I’ve known this girl for 10+ years she always liked me/had a crush on me, she tells me. I met her when she was 14 she told she left and went MIA because I was taken at the time and wanted to get over that crush. Then just last year she came back into my life I decided to message her and catch up. It went well. She’s really sweet and I fell for her so I confessed my feelings. She told me that the feeling was mutual but needed more friends than anything at this time in her life. Which I respected and told her I’m not trying to rush anything. She isn’t a big texter, she’s very closed off and was raised to deal with stuff on her own. She gets overwhelmed with life, work and likes to be alone at times. She’s also told me she tries not to push people away but the thought of talking to people drains her and then she feels terrible. I would go days without hearing from her. Which would hurt and sometimes make me angry but I understood that’s how she is.
As time goes on we end up talking everyday on Discord to just talk, watch shows/movies or play games together. Everything was going great. We ended up meeting IRL for a weekend which honestly was one of the best times of my life. Now physical touch is something she is not used to. Once I picked her up and came home she was very touchy and cuddled up to me and later that night we end up being intimate which we both don’t do unless were comfortable and feel something. After our time together she tells me she had a great time and I was sweet. I then asked her if we can be official and she said “not yet” which hurt because prior to our trip she would send me videos saying “us” and stuff like that basically leading me on. So I figured after being together IRL she would say yes but didn’t.
She goes back home things between us are still going great FaceTiming every night and spending time together. Then three weeks after the trip I ask her to play and she says “playing w my brother today sryyy” I said ok have fun come to find out it wasn’t her brother.. it was another guy. Now I know she has guy friends which she told me from the beginning. When I asked her who this guy was she said he is a friend of her brother and cousin and they’re always over his house and her brother plays on his account. Which I found out to be a lie because they aren’t friends on the game or even follow each other on socials. I told her about this and she got upset giving me the same story about who he is. So we’ve gone back and forth fighting about this. I bring up that she hasn’t gave me anytime. She says I’m trying to spend more time with friends and “my life doesn’t revolve around you and I have a lot on my plate rn” Time goes on and I finally ask “Is there something I need to be worried about you and this guy” she said “nope” then later that night she tells me she doesn’t want anything romantically with anyone right now and she can’t give any type of affection without it being forced. So I told her “I need to step back from this relationship/friendship for my own mental health. I wish you all the best” she then says “I understand, it’s still you that I want & will always only be you, it’s just not fair to you if I’m not in a place where I can give you everything” Which is crazy to me because she is giving this other guy all the time when she’s available. If I get anytime from her it’s an hour here and there or a FaceTime just to fall asleep when she can’t sleep.. We only talk when I try to tell her how I feel and she gaslights me then ends it with “It’s you I still want” Which I don’t believe only saying that to keep me on a string.
The last convo we had was me calling her out on her bs for playing with my head, manipulating me and saying how cruel and cold she was acting towards me and how this guy was her priority and I’m not stupid. She called me while at work saying she was shocked I said that and felt numb. I never disrespected her or called her names, I just said my peace. After the call she said “just don’t message me anymore” last I said was “Funny, You really don’t “have time for anyone” But when I called you on your bullshit you had no problem picking up your phone to call me while at work.” She then blocked me on everything. Not sure if my number is blocked cause I haven’t reached out.
I genuinely think love this girl and Idk what to do. Will she reach out to me? Will she unblock me? Or is this done and a lost cause? I’ve been so understanding of her but she never understands me.
Is this love or am I being played?
TLDR: Girl I was talking to and getting close with went stopped giving me time and went distant. We did things only couples normally do. I found out she been talking to another guy and which she lied about. Then I called her out and now she blocked me on everything.
submitted by Few-Raisin4165 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 02:20 SunHeadPrime I Think I'm Being Stalked by A Smaller Version of Myself

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.
submitted by SunHeadPrime to nosleep [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 02:17 FrenchStephy Kamen Rider 555 20th: Paradise Regained interviews part 2: Shinichiro Shirakura (Producer) and Ryuuta Tasaki (Director)

Kamen Rider 555 20th: Paradise Regained interviews part 2: Shinichiro Shirakura (Producer) and Ryuuta Tasaki (Director)
Part 1: Kento Handa (Takumi Inui) and Yuria Haga (Mari Sonoda)
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First of all, could you tell us about the background behind the planning of Kamen Rider 555?
Shirakura: Until the previous work, Kamen Rider Ryuki, I didn't think that the Kamen Rider series would continue as it has now. Following Moero!! Robocon, we aired Kamen Rider Kuuga and Kamen Rider Agito, but that time slot was originally the broadcast time slot for Metal Heroes. So at the time, I was thinking "we'll continue Kamen Rider for at least one more series, and then go back to Metal Heroes or Kabutack-type series". However, Ryuki became a hit, and I thought "maybe we should continue the Kamen Rider series in the future", so we created 555. So, with a focus on going back to basics, we set up a modern enemy organization called Smart Brain to replace Shocker, and the Kamen Rider side also became centered around "a very strong single protagonist".
Tasaki: It's true that at the time, I had a feeling that "this series will probably continue", something I hadn't felt up until Ryuki.
I think 555 had many aspects that set the standard for subsequent works, such as the close-up action direction of the item's gimmick.
Tasaki: 555 feels like a further evolution of Ryuki's directing of (focusing the camera on) setting the card and unleashing the special move.
Shirakura: It feels good to see the process of replacing the Mission Memory every time. I think that's a clever piece of direction.
How did you come up with the idea of creating a drama that transcends the good and evil with the three Kamen Riders and the three Orphnochs?
Shirakura: During a discussion with (Toshiki) Inoue-dai-sensei about "returning to basics", he said it was common knowledge that "the original first Kamen Rider was originally one of the Shocker monsters, but that isn't really portrayed in the series". He felt that the relationship between the many Shocker monsters and Kamen Rider, who's a grasshopper man, should've been depicted more in the drama. However, when Dai-sensei said "I'm going to write three Orphnochs as the other main characters", I thought "Are you sure you can do that?" (laughs)
Tasaki: Agito and Ryuki didn't really depict the story of kaijin, they were simply treated as monsters. Therefore, 555, which depicts the story of the monster side, was breaking new ground, and I personally looked forward to each script written by Inoue-san.
In the second half of 555, it was revealed that Takumi Inui was also an Orphnoch.
Tasaki: The first time we revealed this was in Kamen Rider 555: Paradise Lost, but the scene where Takumi transforms into the Wolf Orphnoch elicited actual screams of surprise from the audience. Even though the first Kamen Rider was also a cyborg of Shocker. I felt that the basics of Kamen Rider were forgotten because of the illusion that "justice is right and evil is wrong".
Shirakura: It was decided from the beginning that Takumi would be an Orphnoch, and hints were shown many times in the series from around the time Keitarou appeared. We made basic settings such as "only Orphnochs can use the (Faiz) transformation belt", and from my point of view, I was thinking "is it okay to spoil things like this?". But the people watching at the time didn't seem to notice much. Even in an interview back then, when I said "it was decided from the start", people didn't believe me and were asking me "Are you sure?" (laughs)
Tasaki: We were actually surprised that people were so surprised (laughs).
A large number of fans also participated as extras in Paradise Lost.
Shirakura: We decided that with 10,000 people, we could fill Saitama Super Arena, so we recruited extras from the general public. Before 555, we had to send round-trip postcards to apply for extras, but if we had to collect such a large number of extras, it would have taken a huge amount of money to send back the replies. But around the time of 555, I realized that I could use the Internet for recruitment. However, at that time there were no cloud servers like there are today, so we built our own powerful server within Toei.
Tasaki: The server often went down every time the broadcast ended, so I thought it would be difficult if there were a flood of applications.
Shirakura: We received over 90,000 applications and 11,000 people participated, despite the harsh condition of "9-hour endurance filming". Since that many people would gather at Saitama Super Arena, we went around to the nearby shops and other places to say hello in advance. We even asked JR (Japan Railways Group) if they could increase the number of trains, but they turned down the extra service (laughs).
Wasn't it difficult to shoot with such a large number of people?
Shirakura: We shot scenes that required a large number of people in the morning, assuming that some people might not be able to endure the long filming or might get bored and leave halfway through the shoot. However, most of them stayed until the end.
Tasaki: I think the announcement that there would be a greeting from the cast at the end was also effective. During filming, we had two cameramen enter the audience seats and take documentary-style shots of the extras' expressions. The result was an uplifting video reminiscent of the documentary film Festival of Nations about the Berlin Olympics.
The final episode of the TV series ended with the King of Orphnoch not completely destroyed, and a development that hinted at Takumi's death. Was this flow decided from the beginning?
Shirakura: It was decided from the beginning that Takumi would be an Orphnoch, so I didn't think of an ending where he would "wipe out the Orphnochs and everyone is happy". I think that in Dai-sensei's mind, the moment the character Keitarou Kikuchi was born, he was determined to make him the goal (of the story). Keitarou is an ordinary person among the Kamen Rider heroes, the heroine Mari, and the three Orphnochs. Depicting the story of "the most ordinary person being the greatest" with such depth that it's like completely devoid of mediocrity is Dai-sensei's aesthetic, and what makes him amazing.
In this issue, we also spoke to Kento Handa and Yuria Haga. What were your impressions of them back then?
Shirakura: Handa-kun was only 18 years old at the time, but he already was very dignified. Before filming started, he was still living in Kobe, so he came to Shinjuku and we met. As we walked through the streets of Shinjuku, he explained to me "That's the ○○ Building, and that's the XX Building, and it has such a history". When I asked him "You know a lot, have you already been here many times?", he replied "this is my first time in Shinjuku", which surprised me (laughs). Even back then, I was a huge building fanatic.
Tasaki: Yuria-chan has a huge fear of heights, and she was also afraid of going up to places even a little high. I remember it very well because I have never seen anyone else so afraid of heights.
Both of them said "Back then, Director Tasaki didn't get mad at us".
Tasaki: I certainly don't remember being angry at them. But the reason they don't think they've been scolded is because that time Go Ayano (Aki Sawada/Spider Orphnoch) was scolded by director (Hidenori) Ishida has become so famous that they probably were simply thinking "we're not getting scolded that much" (laughs).
Shirakura: In order to train his actors, Ishida-san is acting like he is "flying into a rage" in a very easy-to-understand way. But Director Tasaki doesn't get angry easily, so maybe they just didn't notice (laughs). In fact, when Director Tasaki's language becomes more polite on set, it's proof that he's angry. Something like "the director is ending his sentences with -desu! He's infuriated!!!" (laughs).
Tasaki: They were still teenagers at the time, so there was no point in getting angry at them. But I often got angry at (Mitsuru) Karahashi (Naoya Kaido). He's the type of person who wants to be scolded (laughs).
Toshiki Inoue also appeared in the final episode as a construction site supervisor.
Tasaki: He had an aura that ordinary people don't have, and he was good at acting. But we've had to do several retakes. When he appeared on Avatarou Sentai Donbrothers, he talked about his memories of appearing on 555.
Shirakura: He said "It's tough being an actor because you have to wait a long time" (laughs). He also said "Directors are on set longer than that, so you'd get even more bored, right?", so if he hadn't had that experience on set back then, he might have said "I want to be a director, too!" one day (laughs).
Now, let me ask you about the new work Kamen Rider 555 20th: Paradise Regained. What was the background behind this project?
Shirakura: It all started when I heard that Handa-kun, Haga-san, and (Kouhei) Murakami-kun wanted to do it. If they wanted to do it, there was no doubt that they would appear. What's more, Director Tasaki and Dai-sensei were both working on Donbrothers, so I didn't have to gather all the staff (laughs). After Donbrothers ended, I directly said (to Dai Sensei) "Next is 555!" However, I was worried about what would happen if he still had a Donbrothers feel in him, and that Takumi Inui became like Tarou Momoi (laughs). However, he flipped the switch perfectly and wrote a story that was truly 555-like. In fact, I might have had more of Donbrothers left in me (laughs).
Tasaki: No, this work was made possible because Shirakura-san had 555 in him. Personally, I went into Paradise Regained following the flow from Donbrothers, and I was able to get into the process smoothly because I was able to speak frankly with Inoue-san.
What were you conscious of as it was a sequel to a TV series?
Shirakura: Our goal is to create a work that satisfies those who have been fans since the beginning, while also being worth watching for those who have only recently discovered 555. Handa-kun and other cast members, as well as the people who watched the show on TV at the time, have aged 20 years. I also wanted to give meaning to that time. As long as it's a filmed work, there's no point in simply having a reunion. "xx years anniversary" or "the cast wants to do it" might be triggers, but they alone are not reasons to move forward with a project. In this case, it also has a meaning as a one-off work called Paradise Regained.
Tasaki: I thought about whether to make it an "encore after the final chapter", or an "entrance to a new chapter" like Kamen Rider OOO 10th: Resurrection Core Medal. Having said that, it's also boring to make people who watch it get it too early. I tried to make sure that the story unfolded in a certain way so that by the time you watched it to the end, you would know in which category this story falls into.
Shirakura: 555 is originally a story about boys and girls whose future as humans was cut off and who become Orphnochs, and boys and girls who continue to live through life without becoming Orphnochs. But now, 20 years later, they are no longer boys and girls. That's why this sequel to 555 wasn't just a rehash, but became a story about adults.
Tasaki: The "story of boys and girls" depicted in 555 is played by Rena (Kuruma) and the other new characters. Though writing them in was also to declare that "Takumi and co. are no longer boys and girls", thanks to them, the 555 identity was maintained.
The Faiz Phone and Faiz Driver have also been updated to match the times.
Shirakura: I've been told by various people, including Bandai, that if I were to make 555 now, the transformation item would be a smartphone. In that case, I felt like I had do a new 555 work before a brand-new Kamen Rider who transforms with a smartphone came out on Sundays (laughs).
Did Shirakura-san give any specific orders?
Shirakura: I left the story to Dai-sensei, so my orders were for the structure of the story. How to depict the 20 years. And I don't mean how many years after the story is set, but how to incorporate the fact that the actors and audience are 20 years older compared to back then.
How do you feel about the cast compared to 20 years ago?
Tasaki: As expected, everyone has grown, and each character has matured inside them like wine. That Handa-kun and co. took the initiative and said they wanted to do it means that they must have allowed Takumi, Mari, and Masato to live with them for the past 20 years. So when it came to preparing their roles, we didn't have much to ask them, and they were able to play the aged Takumi, Mari, and Masato in their own unique way. Karahashi also did some strange things behind the scenes, like making the T-shirts and aprons for the costumes himself (laughs).
Were any of the young cast members who appeared in this work fans of 555 back then?
Shirakura: Rui Yanagawa, who plays Hisao, has been watching the show since he was a child. He said that Delta was his favorite Kamen Rider.
Tasaki: You have to really like 555 to be a Delta fan (laughs).
Shirakura: Also, he wasn't a cast member, but there happened to be another drama being filmed nearby at the time of filming, and the actor who played the lead role in that drama came to watch. When I asked him about it, he said he was a big fan of 555 and was thrilled to see the real Takumi and Mari (laughs).
Why do you think 555 continues to be so popular?
Tasaki: I don't know why, because each work is like my own child to me.
Shirakura: I think the character of Takumi Inui, played by Kento Handa, was very appealing. And every character in the show was acting weird, either intentionally or unconsciously. In the first place, it's weird to write 555 and read it as Faiz (laughs). Despite these strange aspects, Bandai created extremely stylish toy packaging, made a special light-emitting suit made for filming, and was extremely particular about the opening video. I don't think this work would have been made under normal circumstances (laughs). There was a moment when I suddenly calmed down and thought "is this really going to be okay?" But when I saw the scene in the opening where Takumi started walking away after getting his hair cut by Mari, I felt the extraordinary aura of the main character. That's when I became confident that "this is going to work!!!"
Lastly, please give a message to the fans who are waiting for the new movie.
Tasaki: In addition to the cast and staff from the TV series, Action Director Sanshirou Wada and Kota Nakamura, who was in charge of filming extras for Paradise Lost as a camera assistant at the time, were in charge of cinematography. New powers have also been added. This is a work filmed by such members, so please look forward to it.
Shirakura: Rather than "please go watch", I want to say "you have to go watch". And the more you love 555, the more you may be unable to see the screen due to tears. I too lost the ability to see halfway through watching it. However, it was made so that you can enjoy it even if you don't know 555. I would be happy if you could watch the TV series or Paradise Lost after watching this movie.
submitted by FrenchStephy to KamenRider [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 02:02 JAM_Passive Apprentice of the Year

Apprentice of the Year
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Before getting to the award, I'd like to talk about my journey from open shop to the UA.
About 2 years or so ago, before I knew about unions, I was working for an open shop plumbing/HVAC company. $15/hr, mostly residential with the occasional commercial. I liked my co-workers, boss was cool, one of my supervisors was cool, the other was a toss up on any given day. Ladies in the office were cool too. Good all around. I was a helper or apprentice, that title changed whenever the boss wanted it to, made no difference in my pay or hours.
I went to a job with one of the guys, and it was to work on a tankless water heater. Long story short, the water heater was piped in backward. That's not important. What is, is the man we did the job for: Mr. Stevens. He was a retired pipefitter of about 30 years from a UA in Chicago. He had a bunch of union stickers from many different locals on the fridge in his garage where we were working. He asked me if I ever thought about joining the UA. I told him no, and I had no idea what that was. While my coworker was on the phone getting approval for the work from a warranty company, Mr. Stevens talked to me about how the UA gave him better wages, the good retirement that he's currently enjoying with his wife, health benefits, and everything he could advertise. I was listening intently because that sounded wonderful to me. He was describing everything I thought my at the time company was supposed to be.
Before we left, Mr. Stevens gave me his number. He told me if I had any more questions to call or text him, he'll be available. He also told me if I was interested in getting in the UA, he'd write me a letter of recommendation for the board members. I thanked him and we went on our way.
Over the next few months, I looked into unions, the UA specifically. I saw pro-union stuff, and anti-union stuff. I'm here, so as you can see, there was too much good for me to care about any of the anti-union stuff, which were mostly lies or exaggerations. Come March of 2023 when applications opened up, I speedran everything I could have. I called Local 43's office, got all the info I needed. Filled out my application, got my HS transcripts, did the Helmets to Hardhats, got with the VA to work out my GI Bill, smoked the ACT WorkKeys test.
My supervisors did eventually find out about me doing all that. One of the board members owned the plumbing company next to my boss's and I guess they're friends and talked to each other, and my boss talked to my supervisors. The cool one made a joke about the dues I'd have to pay (exaggerated the amount) and the other one was visibly not pleased and made a sly remark about it. Fortunately nothing negative came of it for me.
Anyway, finally, the interview. Easily the only thing I was stressed out about. I got a fresh cut, bought a nice (but cheap) blue suit, bought a nice pair of lowkey business casual shoes, bought a cheap black tie, even lightly put on cologne. I walked in to the waiting room and thought I fucked up. The other interviewees had on jeans, those nice dress(?) cowboy boots, and tucked in button-up long sleeve shirts. I make no exaggeration when I tell you, I was the ONLY one in a suit and tie. Internally I'm freaking out wondering "What was I thinking? It's the South, I should have dressed like them! The board is gonna see me an think I'm some prim & proper (derogatory) Yank!" An assumption I made based on the reaction I got when I joined a Fire Department and I told one of the Firefighters I'm from NY. Fortunately, this was not the case.
Nothing to be done about it at that point, I get called into the room. I've been through a board or two in the Army, so I knew I could fake it at least, but I'm still nervous. What I did do immediately that I'm still proud of to this day is I remembered to shake everyone's hand and look at them. Just like I've practiced, a nice firm handshake and eye contact. Sat up straight, hand positioning, made eye contact when answering, answered audibly and clearly, practiced it all beforehand and executed.
They did get Mr. Stevens' letter of recommendation and had me tell them about the work we did for him. And they wanted me to tell them about my time in the Army. That took up a large portion of time thankfully. No matter where you go, men love a good story. Around the last 5 -10 minutes, they had me tell them about my previous company. I didn't badmouth the company, I didn't have much negative to say about it anyway, aside from the hours being wonky occasionally and learning being difficult sometimes if they guy you're with didn't feel like teaching you that day. Sometimes, you really were just a helper. Hand them the tools and move back.
Before I left, one of the men stopped me at the door and told me he was glad I dressed like a professional. He said "Some of these guys come around here and dress like they're about go to the bar and not an interview. I know this is blue collar work, but we're still professionals. Just a blazer goes a long way, and we appreciate that you took this seriously."
All that work (and I'm not gonna lie, there's no doubt in my mind that me being a veteran damn near guaranteed me in) paid off as me and the rest if the 1st years swore in. And starting at $17.60 ain't too bad.
Fast forward to today. Today was the last day of class at my Local. They did awards, congratulations, and all the flair that comes with it. Among the awardees, was me. I haven't earned an academic award since elementary. By the time I got to HS, I realized schooling (at least traditional) isn't something I enjoy or care for, and my effort (or lack of it) reflected that. I stopped doing homework altogether as it was only 15% of our grades, I did well on tests and quizzes, and did classwork depending on length/difficulty and necessity. Graduated HS stress free and got the same diploma as everyone else.
This was not the case during this past school year. I put in the effort for this. I paid attention and asked for help. Especially with math, I asked for a lot of help with math. And I suppose that showed and reflected. I earned Apprentice of the Year for the 1st Year Class. I feel really good about it. I intend to put my ass into and try to earn it for the next 4 years. Joining the UA is one of the best decisions I've ever made. I fucking love the UA, and I love my Local Union 43.
Note: I still talk to Mr. Stevens to this day. I sent him a picture of my award and he's treating me to dinner this weekend.
submitted by JAM_Passive to UnitedAssociation [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 01:59 Fortinbrah If You're Interested in Dzogchen...

Somebody requested that I write down some resources for Dzogchen in the sidebar, so I thought I would do a post as well to give a sort of background and offer anyone else the chance to get in on the conversation or building of resources too...
But first,

A Word on Secrecy, Safety Maturity, and Cults

I'm writing this post out by request of someone who messaged me, with the intention of reaching a wider audience, or all beings, who could benefit from learning about these teachings. I have to caution, though, that they may not be for everybody, and in that regard, I would advise gentleness, with yourself and others, with regards to this path. Please take care of yourself, and keep a measure of your own mind with regard to your mental health and these practices. I wish that those who read this post are only those who it may help, and I apologize preemptively to all those it may hurt, or if I've made any mistakes in my writing.
With that in mind, I can maybe share a little bit about the secrecy aspect of what is called Vajrayana. Someone who learns about these practices but does not genuinely practice them can generate obstacles to their own awakening; specifically with Dzogchen, there is a real danger of intellectualizing the practice such that one covers over their own mind with a sheen of thoughts and fabrication, blocking one from advancing towards awakening. In that regard, this particular practice is called self secret. From what I know, many Lamas won't introduce one to the practice if they aren't sure the student has the capability to grasp it, and also - the student won't be able to practice it or understand it if they're not able to. But, to give some background, from what I understand the strongest indicator of capability to practice Dzogchen, is an interest in doing so.
On the subject of cults - I have to note that Dzogchen practice can be very personal, but that is not a license for any teacher to abuse you, in any form, ever. Things that happened in the past - students getting slapped, hit with shoes, etc. - happened in the past - but that doesn't make them appropriate teachings devices today. A genuinely compassionate teacher won't take advantage of your practice to abuse you, steal your money, degrade you, control you, or anything like that. If they try to - it is more likely that you've stumbled on a cult, and should get away as fast as you can.
As for what makes a good teacher - others have asked this question before, and u/krodha in particular has written out a good description many times, although I can't find the quote he usually uses unfortunately.
As far as general safety in the practice goes, Lama Lena has written this (and I'm shamelessly stealing it from her website):
"The responsibility to take care of your own mind rests with you; not the lama, not your mom, not your cat. So, take it upon yourself to be safe and use common sense."
Please, read that whole page and heed the warnings.

My Practice

I've been working with Dzogchen for about 3.5 years now, since approximately the end of 2020. I'd been interested in Mahayana practices for the better part of a decade before that, but mostly just practicing Samatha by the way of Anapanasati and Metta, and also through the framework provided by *The Mind Illuminated*. I had been curious about Dzogchen for a bit, mostly from reading about it on Wikipedia and just, in general, being interested in seeing what the fuss is surrounding vajrayana, tantra, and the "highest system" called Atiyoga.
By chance, I happened to see a comment on Dzogchen from someone who basically said "If anyone is looking for pointing out, feel free to message me." So I sent them a message giving my general background and motivation for the practice, and they invited me to join them on meditationonline.org - which had been a place they'd been doing meditation for a few years (and still do, I suppose I'd consider myself part of that sangha). I happened to meet the individual who I'd been messaging, a Nyingma lama called Dawai Gocha, and received pointing out, along with teachings for the next few years... up until the present day.
My main practice now is Dzogchen - I gradually transitioned into this from Anapanasati over the course of about six months - and most of my sessions are now just me resting in awareness - Rigpa. I generally do augment this however with other practices, like Satipatthana, mantra recitation, and other practices from the three main vehicles, simply because I like to do them and find them helpful on the path.

What is Dzogchen?

I can't say anything that has not already been said by others, in particular, meditation masters with vastly more experience than I have - but to put it simply, Dzogchen practice can encompass a large number of different types of ancillary practices, and one central practice, which the ancillaries are meant to accomplish. The main practice is resting in the Rigpa.

How to Learn

"Get pointing out instructions from a qualified teacher before embarking on Dzogchen and Mahamudra. A teacher can address pressing questions as they arise and give you a map and tools for the journey. As practitioners, we can rely on those who have hiked the trail before us." - Lama Lena
Since the awareness nature is always present in every being, it is both simple to learn and simple to maintain the practice - being that one just simply is introduced to the awareness nature, and then abides in it at all times.
As far as being introduced to that awareness, in my experience there are many avenues, such as getting pointed out in person( verbally or non verbally), in visions, through texts, in dreams, etc. In one of her videos, Lama Lena goes through, I think, five different days that transmission/pointing out can happen.
But in my experience, getting pointing out, repeatedly and periodically, from a teacher is the most effective (and probably the most important) way to learn, like having someone coach you through riding a bicycle, until you finally internalize the fundamentals and are able ride on your own. Even someone that can check your progress, humble you, and keep you from common pitfalls, can be extremely helpful. Dzogchen, to me and from what I have read from e.g. Tulku Urgyen, is very simple, so simple that many people are able to miss it extremely easily. Whether we miss it because we're so worked up, or because we are subtly fabricating something and fixating on the fabrication - there is a miss, and from what I know, it's better to realize that than carry on doing whatever else. The harsh reality of Dzogchen practice is that fixation, because we're so habituated to it as human beings, is extremely easy, and being led astray by fixation means your meditation becomes a conditioned Samatha practice. On a lighter note though - from my perspective, one we learn to continually distinguish between Consciousness from Wisdom, we are on very solid ground, and it becomes easier and easier to recognize when we've become fixated.
On the subject of teachers - I would consider myself to have had many teachers. My main teacher, I mentioned before, is a lama I talk to live over the internet, but I would also say I've received teachings from recordings, from books, and in dreams. For clarity, I will state again: having a teacher that you can use to verify your practice is very important so as not to fall into common pitfalls. Whether you are confirming your experience through texts, reasoning, pointing out videos, whatever - doing it repeatedly will help because otherwise, as a beginner, one can be lost for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, etc. without finding awareness again. I've seen people on Dzogchen who, unfortunately, even though they got pointing out from great teachers, were not able to full internalize the practice because they got lost in thoughts and then never were able to find recognize awareness again, and so need the pointing out once more. Others get the pointing out repeatedly - practice a lot, and attain good results over time. In that way, from my perspective, having continual access to the teachings is very important.
Fortunately, we live in a good time for this.
I'll get to recommend specifics later but - this is my perspective - although some people say that you can't get transmission over recordings or the internet, or from books - I actually do doubt that that is that case, just from experience. But, I must caution that all of my experience in this realm comes from after the point in time that I received live pointing out, so I would not take what I say as gospel. Once again, anything I say would defer to a knowledge and reputable teacher.
This all being said - regardless of how one feels at a specific time or place, there's no reason to ever refrain from confirming one's experience or view against the words of masters. There are others that have said this, who have more experience, but until we are Buddhas ourselves and phenomena have exhausted, there is no reason to ever stop practicing. Ever. If you are practicing, there is no need to make effort, and all phenomena will come and go without trouble until they are fully exhausted. Namkhai Norbu says almost exactly this in The Cycle of Day and Night.

Finding A Teacher - Resources

"Do not expect to travel this path guided only by books and the internet! Use the internet to find a teacher, then connect with them." - Lama Lena
It's taken a while to get here, my apologies for that.
For finding a teacher, I think any lama that has accomplished a three year retreat will be proficient in either Mahamudra or Dzogchen (both Atiyoga - subtle differenes but the same essential practice), and will likely be able to give pointing out instructions.
Not all may do so at first. Some may want a more personal relationship, some may require Ngondro, and some may say "sorry I don't really give those teachings". Some may require a baseline knowledge of the practice first - for example the Tergar program does.
That being said, there are many places to receive pointing out for free and in public.
Off the top of my head, I can name four that are always open and free: Lama Lena on Facebook and Youtube, The Rangdrol Foundation (run by the reddit user u/jigdrol), MeditationOnline.org, and The Pristine Mind Foundation . I know there are others, but at least to me on reddit and personally, these have been the most visible. I do know that Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche and James Low occasionally give pointing out instructions and videos on the practice. As well - many other lama do on occasion, and especially Bon lamas - practitioners and Yogis from the Tibetan Indigenous religion, through teachings series or classes. Some may even do so if you are able to get a phone call with them.
Personally, I recommend finding someone who you can learn from personally, and allowing them to teach you whatever they can.
Edit: Here is a recent list of online teachers compiled by Dzogchen
Lama Lena Dzogchen Youtube Videos
Lama Lena Introductory Videos
Meditation Online Videos (Almost all Dzogchen)
Once you've received pointing out, there are also numerous public books, and texts one can read to deepen their understanding and/or background in the teachings, a few of which I've read and can list below. I'll also try to find some links that I care share too.
Many texts on Dzogchen, Mahyana and Vajrayana in general can be found on the excellent Lotsawahouse.org
A list of a few books that I've read and can personally recommend. Please note - these books (with the exception of Transcending AFAIK) are best read after having received transmission:
The Cycle of Day and Night by Chogyal Namkhai Norbu
Dzogchen: Heart Essence of the Great Perfection by HH The Dalai Lama
Zurchungpa's Testament by Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche
Vajra Heart Revisited by Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche
Transcending Ego: Distinguishing Consciousness from Wisdom by Thrangu Rinpoche
Also, I've not read the Trilogy of Rest by Longchenpa but heard that they're excellent.
Anyways, this about wraps up the post. If you have any questions or additional comments, they are very welcome. I wish all of your the very best of luck on your paths, and that all beings may reach enlightenment.
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2024.05.22 01:53 FrenchStephy Kamen Rider 555 20th: Paradise Regained interviews part 1: Kento Handa (Takumi Inui) and Yuria Haga (Mari Sonoda)

Kamen Rider 555 20th: Paradise Regained interviews part 1: Kento Handa (Takumi Inui) and Yuria Haga (Mari Sonoda)
From Uchuusen Vol. 183. Also I don't know what the consensus is but I use 555 to refer to the show and Faiz to refer to the Kamen Rider.
Part 2: Shinichiro Shirakura (Producer) and Ryuuta Tasaki (Director)
https://preview.redd.it/cf17s2fr7v1d1.jpg?width=1280&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=38973491b8e7cc12aed2b2972655da56a35e7961
It's been 20 years since the show ended, but have your impressions of the show changed?
Handa: My impression of the work known as Kamen Rider 555 changed after filming this movie. Previously, I had a rather dry impression of the show, calling it "my debut work" or "my first job after moving to Tokyo", but with the developments of recent years and the fact we were able to make this 20th anniversary movie, I realized that it was a necessary part of my life. It was one of the most special jobs I've ever had the pleasure of working on.
Haga: I think of 555 as my youth and starting point, and that hasn't changed even after 20 years. But once I go to the Kamen Rider filming set, I feel like a child. When I meet the director and staff, I am instantly transported back to those days. And it feels good.
Handa: I get it. I'm almost 40 years old, and as I get older, the sensibilities I had in my teens and 20s tend to fade. I wonder what I was thinking and how I was living back then. But when I'm with Haga-san or when I go to the Kamen Rider set, it instantly comes back to me. That feels strangely comfortable (laughs).
Haga: That's right (laughs).
Handa: It's not good for this to continue forever, but I think it's good to have moments like this every now and then in life.
You two have both appeared in the Kamen Rider series since 555**, but surprisingly this is the first time you have worked together since then.**
Haga: Yes. It's been 20 years since then.
Handa: We've been together at events and such, so you might get the impression that we've often worked together, but this is the first time we've appeared in the same work since 555.
Haga: But it doesn't feel like it's been a while. If anything, I'm more like "What?! It's already been 20 years?"
Handa: It feels like it happened just yesterday or the day before yesterday, when we were testing cameras, deciding on settings, and talking about silly things in our free time.
Haga: It's a feeling you won't find in any other work.
When did the two of you learn about the project for this Paradise Regained movie?
Handa: For me, it was when I appeared in Good Morning, Sleeping Lion 2 starring (Seiji) Takaiwa-san, which was released in April 2023. At the filming set, someone from Toei told me "We'll be doing it next year, so thank you for your cooperation". I was focused on that filming when he suddenly told me, so I was a bit shaken (laughs). However, I was happy that what we had hoped for came true.
What do you mean by "what we had hoped for"?
Handa: When the 555 cast members got together some time ago, we talked about how it would be great to do something for the 20th anniversary. However, it is impossible for us to make a movie on our own, so all we could do is show our determination. I only told Toei of my determination: "if you ever want to do it, I am ready".
Haga-san has appeared in Kamen Rider Genms -Smart Brain and the 1000% Crisis- and Kamen Rider Outsiders as Mari and Smart Queen, but were you aware of this at the time of filming?
Haga: At that time, there was no such talk, so I'm glad we had the opportunity to convey our intentions.
Handa: That's right. If we hadn't said that, the work wouldn't have come this far. I think we would have gotten an commemorative event at most.
Haga: When I learned that May 5, 2020 would coincide with the 20th anniversary of 555, I felt that it was fate that the number "5" would be lined up so miraculously. But to be honest, even if a new work was made, I thought it was going to be at most a collaboration with the latest Kamen Rider, so I never thought that we would be able to make a standalone 555 work.
Handa: I was certainly surprised that they would make such a large-scale work that would be released in theaters.
Takumi's death was confirmed in Kamen Rider 4**, but what were Handa-san's thoughts on playing the role of Takumi this time?**
Handa: I think of Takumi from the TV series and Takumi who guest starred in subsequent works as separate entities. If you don't interpret it that way, you'll end up worrying about parts that don't make sense. That's why I don't think of No. 4 and this movie as being connected. In the first place, after No. 4, I also appeared in Kamen Rider Zi-O. Even at that time, I didn't let No. 4 weigh me down, and instead only played my role of Takumi of the world of Zi-O.
Haga-san also played the dual roles of Mari and the Smart Queen in works such as Outsiders**, but what were your thoughts on playing the role of Mari this time?**
Haga: Even before that, I had appeared in Kamen Rider Kiva and Decade, but it was the first time in 18 years that I played Mari. I was surprised and thought "I haven't played Mari in that long?" But that's because for the past 20 years, I have been called "Mari-chan" here and there.
Handa: That's right (laughs).
Haga: Outsiders was not written by Toshiki Inoue, and to begin with, I played the Smart Queen role more often than Mari there, so in that regard this was the first time in 20 years that I played the post-555 Mari.
What did keep in mind when playing Takumi and Mari of 20 years later?
Handa: This is similar to what I mentioned earlier, but 20 years is just the passage of time in the real world. Although this movie takes place a long time after the TV series, there is no clear setting for how many years later. Takumi no longer have the body to continue working at the dry cleaners, and due to various reasons, has given himself to Smart Brain. I acted with that in mind.
Haga: That's right. We were both teenagers at the time of 555, so we have both changed as people.
Handa: We've both gone through a lot of things in the real world. But I felt like we didn't have to think about those changes in our state of mind in the 555 world.
The director of this movie is Ryuuta Tasaki, who was also the main director of 555**. What was your impression of filming with the Tasaki crew after a long time?**
Handa: For me, the only word I can say is "easy to act". However, since there were many young actors on set this time, the director was also strict. At the time of 555, we didn't really get yelled at.
Haga: Yes. I don't remember being scolded by Director Tasaki. I've worked with him on many other works (besides 555) such as Sh15uya and Kiva, so of course I know of his tough side.
Handa: For me, he is like a teacher or a club advisor. When I was a teenager, the 555 set was like school or a club activity. Even when things were tough, we overcame them and made it through as a group of members that wouldn't be complete with a single person missing.
Haga: He is like a guardian to me. Also, Director Tasaki's acting instructions are very easy to understand.
Handa: He's good at explaining things, without using emotional arguments.
Haga: He is watching the set carefully.
Handa: He's very considerate. If it's cold at the filming site, he'll say things like "put a blanket over him".
Haga: The very first scene we filmed this time was on the roof of a building, and he remembered that I was afraid of heights. He was really considerate and told me "you'll be fine at this height" and "there's a fence, so it's okay".
Handa: I think the director was impressed by Haga-san's talent even back then. That's why you're still treated with courtesy even today.
Haga: No, no, no! I was 15 at the time.
Handa: Now that I think about it, there are no 15-year-olds like Haga-san. She was much more level-headed than (Mitsuru) Karahashi-san (laughs).
Haga: Well, I'm confident in that (laughs). I still remember the conversation we had when I first met Karahashi-san. "So you are the rumoured Mari?" "Yes." "I heard you don't do any retakes." I thought "what's wrong with this adult?" with the way he talked to the 15-year-old me (laughs).
Handa: Karahashi-san brought home many leftover lunch boxes from the filming set, and used the baths at the filming studio to save up money for bathing. His way of life was very much like Naoya Kaido. He is a lovable man (laughs).
Please give us your impressions on co-starring with Kouhei Murakami-san (Masato Kusaka), Mitsuru Karahashi-san (Naoya Kaido), and Ray Fujita-san (Kitazaki/Dragon Orphnoch) in this 555 20th anniversary movie.
Handa: Though I worked with Murakami-san in Heisei Rider vs. Showa Rider: Kamen Rider Taisen and Zi-O, I thought it was really nice to see Takumi and Kusaka together. Karahashi-san was a key person in No. 4, so it was really only Fujita-kun who I met for the first time in 20 years. (After seeing him) I thought he too had become an adult.
Haga: Fujita-kun was a child even to me at the time (laughs). Also, Murakami-san loves Kaixa so much that he hosts a fan event called 913 (Kaixa) Festival. He also invited me there, so I regularly watch him play Masato Kusaka (laughs).
Handa: No, no, 913 Festival's Masato Kusaka is way too exaggerated (laughs). But it's amazing that he took Kusaka, a role that would normally be disliked by viewers, and turned it into a character that is loved so much. I think this is the result of Murakami-san's personality and hard work.
Haga: It seems that there are many people have come to like him after all was said and done. That Masato Kusaka (laughs).
How was your reunion with Karahashi-san, who was mentioned earlier?
Haga: I was surprised at the fact that he hadn't changed at all (laughs).
Handa: He really hasn't changed (laughs). I guess his hair is shorter now?
Haga: He always tries to sneak ad-libs during the actual takes. And everytime, the director would stop him and say "(you) don't (have to) do that!". Exactly the same scenery as back then (laughs).
Handa: It's fine to stay together with him for a day or so. He's pretty interesting after all. But every day is tough (laughs).
Haga: It would stop the filming from progressing (laughs).
Handa: It must be difficult for his wife (laughs).
In this work, Next Faiz, a new form of Faiz, appears. Please tell us your impressions after watching it.
Handa: When I first saw the design drawings, I thought it was an excellent design. While making the gimmick modern, it remains Faiz-like. I was impressed that they were able to create such a difficult design. I liked it at first sight. Also, while matching the old Faiz, the colors have been slightly changed. The red that used to be deep red has turned vermilion, and the silver has also become darker.
Between the TV series, movies, and this work, multiple Kamen Riders have appeared in the 555 series, but which Rider left the most impression on you?
Haga: Aside from Faiz, of course, I really like Psyga, who appeared in the movie Paradise Lost. I thought he was really cool, including the provocation pose he did when fighting Kaixa.
Handa: Back then, white riders were rare. And he could fly too.
Haga: When he fought Faiz, he was defeated right away, right? I seriously thought "what a waste!" (laughs).
Handa: Nevertheless, this is the first time I've heard that you like Psyga (laughs).
Haga: Just like Faiz, it has a really nice design that screams "Made by Smart Brain".
Handa: I was impressed by that too. Smart Brain's front face is a company, so they must be making products other than Riders. It's amazing that they are conscious of the commonalities that are unique to that company when designing their products. Even though it's a non-existent company. As a railway fan, I would like to see trains made by Smart Brain. Something like a Maglev (laughs).
Handa-san, how did you feel about using the Faiz Driver, which has evolved into needing a smartphone?
Handa: The conventional model has its advantages because I'm familiar with it. I think I would have gotten used to the new model if I had used it more often, but just from this experience I wasn't able to make it "my own". And it's not just me, but Takumi himself should be the same, so I thought it wouldn't be a problem even if I wasn't used to it. I think it's more realistic that way.
Since it's a smartphone, you had to use both hands to press "5.5.5. ENTER."
Handa: That was just for the sake of the filming, but if I really want to, I can do it with one hand. But as expected, it's still difficult to press (the touches) with one hand (laughs).
Please tell us the highlights of this work.
Haga: Please pay attention to the last scene.
Handa: It's the "true last scene", right? The scene that plays with the end credits.
Haga: Yes. I really love the Takumi and Mari of that scene.
Handa: Even though it was an ordinary scene, it was difficult to play, so in the end I came to the conclusion that I would "not act". Without thinking about how to make facial expressions, what kind of movements to make, or what tone to use in one's voice. I was wondering if that's what it means to truly "act". Haga-san acted the same way.
Haga: It was a scene that wasn't in the script in the first place. The story was that I could do whatever I wanted while the cameras were rolling.
Handa: The reason it was used properly is because the director could sense that Takumi and Mari were possessing us.
Haga: I haven't heard anything about it, but you're probably right.
Lastly, please give a message to the fans who are looking forward to the screening.
Handa: This is a work for 555 fans. It is a work that we can confidently deliver to the core 555 fans who say I like this" or "that" about 555". It's not just that "we made this movie just to celebrate the 20th anniversary". Rather, it's more like "20 years have passed by coincidence". At least if you ask us (laughs).
Haga: I think the fact that the Faiz Driver, which used to need a flip phone, was upgraded into needing a smartphone, was only possible because 20 years have passed. However, it is a work that does not make you feel the passage of time. There are well-balanced scenes that make you think "this is what 555 is like". And this too "gets you fired up" (laughs).
Handa: Another big factor was that the filming took place at a time when we, the actors, were in good mental condition. The mental state of an actor will appear on the screen.
Haga: Please check out what Takumi and Mari are thinking and how they are living as adults.
Handa: But as I said at the beginning, I was a child again on set (laughs). That's why I would like (Toei) to create new 555 stories on a regular basis. So that we can also become younger (laughs).
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2024.05.22 01:14 Far-War-3804 C07 JAG EXECUTES OPRAH WINFREY. The CASE OF JAG vs. OPRAH WINFREY REACHED a THEATRICAL CONCLUSION, when WINFREY WAS EXECUTED at GUANTANAMO BAY for having AIDED and ABETTED THE ENEMY, FEMA, in DEPRIVING HAWAII RESIDENTS and TOURISTS of LIFE and PROPERTY during last summer’s MAUI INFERNO. February 23

C07 JAG EXECUTES OPRAH WINFREY. The CASE OF JAG vs. OPRAH WINFREY REACHED a THEATRICAL CONCLUSION, when WINFREY WAS EXECUTED at GUANTANAMO BAY for having AIDED and ABETTED THE ENEMY, FEMA, in DEPRIVING HAWAII RESIDENTS and TOURISTS of LIFE and PROPERTY during last summer’s MAUI INFERNO. February 23
https://preview.redd.it/9kne4bhj3v1d1.jpg?width=1100&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5187ca30332cf41867720b0120cad93c2095666c
C07
JAG EXECUTES OPRAH WINFREY. The CASE OF JAG vs. OPRAH WINFREY REACHED a THEATRICAL CONCLUSION, when WINFREY WAS EXECUTED at GUANTANAMO BAY for having AIDED and ABETTED THE ENEMY, FEMA, in DEPRIVING HAWAII RESIDENTS and TOURISTS of LIFE and PROPERTY during last summer’s MAUI INFERNO. February 23, 2024.
The case of JAG vs. Oprah Winfrey reached a theatrical conclusion Monday morning when Winfrey was executed at Guantanamo Bay for having aided and abetted the enemy, FEMA, in depriving Hawaii residents and tourists of life and property during last summer’s Maui inferno.
Although her execution had been scheduled for February 14, JAG postponed the hanging until the 19th, for reasons JAG hadn’t expatiated on at the time of this writing. Real Raw News summarized Winfrey’s tribunal in an earlier article.
Knowledge of her own impending doom, a GITMO source told Real Raw News, hadn’t dampened her insatiable appetite for food, for she voraciously consumed a dozen scrambled eggs, 20 links of sausage, and 12 slices of buttered toast—a glutenous woman’s last repast.
No sooner had she finished gorging herself than two MPs arrived at the cellblock to escort her to the gallows. But a truculent Winfrey resisted, clinging to her bunk as the MPs tried to zip tie (her wrists were too bloated for handcuffs) her hands. Winfrey reportedly cried out for Obama, saying a single phone call with either him or Michelle would compel JAG to reverse its decision to execute her. “You’ll pay for this. I never did anything wrong,” she protested, and the MPs were forced to administer a mild sedative to mollify the raging beast.
They struggled to stuff her into the rear seat of their Hummer. Winfrey weighed 345 lbs. at a pre-execution physical.
The sedative’s deleterious effects had diminished by the time they reached the execution site, and Winfrey, still stuporous, emerged from the vehicle lethargic and weak, her glassy eyes glancing at Vice Admiral Darse E. Crandall and the gallows that loomed behind him. He instructed the MPs to lead Winfrey up the steps to the platform and noose, beside which stood the hangman and a U.S. Navy chaplain clutching a King James Bible. The latter asked Winfrey if she wanted him to administer the Last Rites of the Condemned.
“Barack,” Winfrey said groggily. “I want to talk to Barack.”
“Really? Now there’s a coincidence. We’d really like to talk to him, too,” Vice Adm. Crandall said.
“Let me call him. You have my phone. He’ll fix all this,” Winfrey said.
“Oh, we’ve examined your phones. Trust me, he’s not taking any calls.”
“He’ll talk to me,” Winfrey insisted.
Admiral Crandall ascended the steps and pulled out his phone. “Give me his number?”
Though still woozy, Winfrey had the presence of mind to recite from memory a number with a D.C. area code and prefix, which the admiral dialed. He held the phone to Winfrey’s ear: “The number you have dialed is not in service.”
“Service to that number was terminated the day you were arrested,” the admiral told her before descending the stairs. “Time to finish this.”
The hangman placed the loop of rope around Winfrey’s neck and a cloth sack over her head. The admiral gave the order that prompted the hangman to flip the switch that triggered the pivoting door beneath Winfrey’s paunchy legs. She dropped without uttering a squeak, and was pronounced dead three minutes later.
Upon receiving notification of Winfrey’s death, Real Raw News asked GITMO sources whether JAG, or any military entity, has authority to prosecute and sentence civilians.
“When President Trump gave us provisional control, it gave us the authority. The moment Oprah Winfrey aided the Deep State, she became indistinguishable from it. The two were inextricably linked,” our source said.
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2024.05.22 01:02 Ur_Anemone Why was my face stolen for a dating profile?

Why was my face stolen for a dating profile?
When Mandy Appleyard discovered that her photograph was being used by a stranger online, she began a personal quest to find out how it had happened
…I was annoyed — but first things first. I would need to contact Match, explain the mess and have it investigate then report back: simple. Except that contacting Match as a non-subscriber was a challenge beyond my capabilities. I pored over the website. “Match does not have a customer support phone number … Please be aware that there are fake customer support numbers posted on various websites, none of which are affiliated with Match.” My blood was boiling by the time I read: “Profile checking: all ads and photos are checked individually before they are published.” What? My photos certainly hadn’t been checked or they wouldn’t have been published on a false profile for millions of people to see.
I asked my friend if he could message Clare5432 to tell her we were on to her. He kindly did so, but came back to me within minutes to say she had blocked him. “Would you contact Match then, and complain on my behalf?” I asked him. “Get them to take it down?” He did that, and Match took the profile down within hours. I assumed, naively, that was the end of the story…
Knowing my face had been used to create a bogus dating profile, I was irritated that someone had stolen my picture and at least part of my bio to sell themselves under false pretences. Terrible things happen on the internet, which from some angles looks like a cesspit of fraud, depravity and deception. What had happened to me wasn’t the crime of the century but it felt decidedly icky.
Things were about to get worse. In January another male friend phoned me to say he was on Match and had seen my profile on there. He knew I wasn’t online dating so he was immediately suspicious. I realised we were on familiar territory when he sent me a screenshot of “Wendy, 63, in Wakefield”. It was the image of me that had been used last time, with a profile that described an outdoorsy free spirit. My pal immediately contacted Match on my behalf and straight away it took the profile down.
When this happened for the third time, earlier this month, I was livid. A male friend of a friend said he’d been reading my profile on Match the night before and really liked it. “Great picture of you too,” he messaged. I told him I wasn’t on Match and asked him to send me a screenshot. He hasn’t — and now seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. I can only assume “my” image and profile are still up there for the world to see and exploit.
So I now know that my identity has been stolen by online dating scammers at least three times, although it could be 1,003 times for all I know. I’m made aware of the theft only when someone I know happens to stumble across it and takes the trouble to alert me.
“Don’t you feel just a bit flattered that someone has used your picture? They must think you’re attractive to have bothered!” a friend suggested. The answer is that I don’t. No part of me is flattered, instead I find it deeply creepy. It feels like a trespass on my life, a theft over which I have no control, an invasion of my privacy that makes me feel queasy but which I can’t stop happening again. And again.
I posted on Facebook that I was looking for advice on how to close this fraud down once and for all, hoping someone in my online social media community would have an answer. They did — but not the one I was hoping for. A journalist friend said this probably wasn’t a lone woman using a false profile as romantic bait. Instead, she suggested, it was more likely to be the work of an industrial-scale scam where gangs of people in “fraud factories” (often in north Africa and southeast Asia) create false profiles on dating sites using stolen photos and false information. They then contact potential victims. Over time the conversations become more intimate and personal as the scammer builds trust with their target.
The targets are often vulnerable people in their fifties, sixties and seventies, perhaps new to dating after long marriages that have ended in divorce or bereavement, sometimes lonely, invariably trusting. Low-hanging fruit, in other words, for the wily thieves who groom them, telling them how beautiful and desirable they are, forge a speedy romantic connection then ask for money — a little to begin with, a lot later on…
These scammers commit a fraud, the false profile is reported and shut down, but the con artists immediately set up a new false profile using the same pictures — and on and on it goes.
Sadly there are a thousand iterations of this scenario: coercive controllers who manipulate vulnerable people into believing they have found love. They send photographs, gifs, songs and poems during their “courtship”, telling their victims they are surgeons or spies, Nasa physicists or retired army colonels. They send (stolen) pictures of their children, their luxury home, their fast car, then one day start asking for gift cards, crypto, or money to buy heart surgery or a flight home.
The people perpetuating these cybercrimes are often doing so because they have been trafficked and trapped. Sixty Kenyans were rescued from “fraud factories” after the customer service jobs they applied for in Thailand turned out to be a cover for cybercrime. One woman had been promised a monthly salary of £675 but ended up targeting Americans by creating enticing profiles on Tinder, Instagram and Facebook. “They fall in love with you and you can tell them about cryptocurrency. You start stealing from them,” the 31-year-old woman said, describing in Swahili how she was forced to work in a vast call centre-like hall with hundreds of people of many nationalities…
All of which brings us back to my predicament and how I’m being made to feel complicit in these grubby scams. My face is being used to deceive trusting people who could be fleeced of everything. The victims of a serious and organised crime repeated over and over again but which remains outside the victims’ control. I’m the frontwoman for online activity that may be illegal or dishonest. If it’s neither of those things it’s still plain embarrassing, because I have no idea what the person using my image is saying or doing.
Someone who knows exactly how this feels is Christian Gerhard Boving, a Danish doctor who says scammers have been using photos of him for years to target victims online. “Suddenly all these pictures were stolen by scammers using them to hit on innocent people around the world. They are cruel, sophisticated and evil people doing this.”
Boving has called on companies such as Meta, which owns Facebook and Instagram, to do more. “There should be verification of every new profile being created, like you have to verify yourself with a passport or driving licence, so you know it’s a real person behind the profile,” he says. Perhaps social media companies could use AI to trawl for photographs they know have been stolen and used before on fraudulent accounts — mine and Boving’s, for starters. Certainly the companies running dating apps should make it easy for non-subscribers such as me to contact them with a complaint.
The problem is getting worse, the latest figures showing that reports of romance fraud have risen by almost 60 per cent over four years. Action Fraud, the UK’s centre for fraud and cybercrime, says dating apps are a common place for scammers to find their victims. The top five platforms they use are Facebook, Plenty of Fish, Instagram, Tinder and Match.
As a journalist I like to think that I’m pretty savvy in the ways of the world, but stealing my credit card is one thing; stealing my face is something else. I’m tempted, next time this happens (and I have no doubt there will be a next time), to join whichever dating app is responsible and strike up a conversation with my alter ego. Let’s see where that takes me. Watch this space — and this face.
submitted by Ur_Anemone to afterAWDTSG [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 00:58 Murderous_Nipples Flat management replacing door entry system

England
Apologies, may be long but I’ll try to summarise mostly at the top, and then provide full excerpts of emails for detail if needed.
I own a leasehold flat and our management company is in the process of replacing our door entry system for buzzing people into the building. No consultation with flat owners was done on what the replacement system should be. The cost is being covered by insurers as the current system has been damaged by someone.
Currently the system works by the person/visitor punching in a flat number on the outside panel, this rings a phone in our flat (and also has a video screen) and we can let them in with a button. The system they’re planning to replace it with removes the phone unit in our flat and requires a phone number to be called by the system, and then we buzz the person in through an app on our phone.
Personally I think this is an unacceptable replacement due to the requirement of having a phone number for the system to call to simply be able to answer our doors.
When I asked what if someone doesn’t have a phone/doesn’t want to give their number to a company for the purpose of opening their door to guests, I was essentially told the advice is to just “buy one”. They also completely misunderstood my question of “What if I lose my phone?” - just telling me to let them know and they can remove my phone number from the system. Clearly not understanding that then I’d be without the ability to answer the door for visitors/post workers and such.
Maybe I’m being unreasonable (if you think I am please do say), but I don’t think this is a tenable solution for a replacement system.
I’m wondering if there is any legal basis to resist the new system on? It’s materially different (in my opinion at least. And I appreciate that from an outside perspective maybe it is not) from what was/currently is in place when I purchased my flat, and has potential issues that simply shouldn’t exist for a building entry system.
Happy to provide any more detail, and mildly resigned to also be told that I can’t do anything and just have to accept it.
Initial email from the management company
“Whilst this system is being bespokely fabricated we now need some details from each resident in each flat. This will be the mobile phone number that you wish to receive door entry calls from to allow access. This number will normally be the owner or tenants living there. You can have more than one mobile attached to the system. The system will call the primary number and if not answered it will then call the secondary number. You do not have to use more than one number.
When you answer the door as you would any call you will be able to see the person asking for access and speak to them on your phone. If you wish to allow access you press the hash key on your phone and this releases the door. We will give much more detail nearer the time but this is a summery for now.
All those using the system will need to download the app on the device/s they will have registered to the system to give access.”
My questions to them and their responses
“As there is to be no unit in the flats:
submitted by Murderous_Nipples to LegalAdviceUK [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 00:25 bulbasauric Was anyone else wildly frustrated by this movie?

Just out of The Strangers: Chapter 1, and I either need validation/vindication, or to be convinced that I'm wrong (and I'm open to that, by all means).

I'd avoided delving too deep into any backstory of this film. Initially I'd thought this was going to be a prequel-series of films, given how Prey at Night ended (two killers dead, one almost certainly dead). So I went in with my back up, as you always should with a horror prequel, or indeed series - what's the actual risk to the villains if they'll allegedly appear in the future (be that the in-universe future, or a future film)?
Within the first few minutes, our lead lady is using a smartphone/Google Maps, and shortly thereafter an AirBNB is mentioned. So we're in present-day, and it's not a prequel - that's fine.
Once we meet The Strangers, The Man in the Mask showed no burns or signs of injury from the previous film, and is wearing significantly different clothing than he usually would. Pin Up Girl and Dollface were hella dead by the end of that film. With all of this said, I'm to believe we have a new trio of killers donning the masks, right? Great.
And yet, it all felt wasted. Nothing new, nothing interesting happened.
Our lead characters were not especially likeable. The dialogue in the car was pretty forced and expository, and they just felt very generic. They looked great and I've no problem with the actors, but feel they weren't given much to do.
In fact, nobody is very likeable in this film. The okayest-character was the girl in the diner who gave them a lift to the house, and even that was probably part of the killers' setup.
Everyone in town... was just downright awful, for no apparent reason. Sneering because the central couple come from the city. Literally making multiple "Huh, she's a VEGETARIAN?" jokes - seriously, was this film written in 2002 and mildly modernized, or something? What the hell are we doing here?!
Our lead characters were also just not smart. Examples:
As I watched, I thought "Okay, chill - it's not as if they know they're in a horror movie. People get jittery and make mistakes when under duress". But I think nowadays, horror movies in general have just surpassed this kinda stuff. They don't - shouldn't - get a free pass for characters being outright stupid, just to make plot happen. Especially when they're the ONLY characters we're following for the whole film. If you wanna introduce a dopey hyuck friend for some death fodder, go right ahead. But it's asking a bit too much nowadays to root for a character who makes stupid choices for just no good reason.
I'm no expert, but I do love my horror movies, and after the direction Prey at Night took, I just expected... more. This was very much a paint-by-numbers horror movie, and it really did come off as a weak copy of the first film. The fact that Maya survives was.. something different. But now it means we'll be following her through the next film. I find this more worrying than interesting, because it may mean there's going to be some contrived revenge plot, when really I want to see more of the killers, and I want to see them get killed.
There are just few things more frustrating than a film series providing more questions and no answers, all in the name of cranking out more of them. All we know - all we can suppose - is that there are three new people wearing these masks. That's all. And for the third film in a franchise - whether it's starting its own story arc or not - that's not good enough for me.
submitted by bulbasauric to TheStrangers [link] [comments]


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submitted by Brilliant_Maddy to Statisticshelpers_ [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 00:01 ikieneng My fanfiction - episode 4!

My fanfiction - episode 4!
The next part is here! This episode is so long that I had to split it, and today, you're finally getting part 3 of 3.
You can find the previous episodes in the side bar! (Community info page in the app)
DISCLAIMERS (the same ones as before)
The point of this fanfiction is not to be a straight-up continuation of events with the same themes, intensity, and tone. If you go into it with those expectations, you are probably not going to like it. Rather, it’s supposed to be how I wish things went if these events were real life. The resolution you want for a real-life situation isn’t often the right choice for a show, but it can be incredibly beautiful. Think of what you’re about to read to be a separate show then.
Episode 1 of this fanfiction begins after the episode “2:00” (season 2 episode 4), so it replaces the episode “Cake” and the ones that follow it. This fanfiction expects you to have seen the entirety of seasons 1 and 2, so you should watch those first.
I myself am bursting into the story here. The narrator and me are the same. While my character is like 95% real me, don’t take events about my life described here as facts. Some aspects of my life have been changed for the story. In my head, I started writing like an “alternate me” character in 2016, fulfilling a lot of the things that I wish I had in life, adding that to my story. I’m not really from Ukraine. I speak fluent Ukrainian as a foreign language, I started learning it in 2014, and I’ve talked to tons of people from there, but I’m not from Ukraine. I also don’t have as much money as I do in the story. I wish lmao.
If you want to post your own fanfiction, feel free to do so! To get your own post flair for your fanfic, and to appear in the side bar, please message me.

Part 3 (days 3 and 4)

We’d wake up on day three, and still, nothing would be any different - we’re still locked up. We’d both feel really worried not knowing if we’ll have to forfeit our whole plan because we might run out of food and water and take the risky route - calling the police and getting ourselves into a situation where we’d have to be freed by force, which would be so dangerous because the Turners have proven that there’s nothing they’re not prepared to do to us to “get Jericho back”. Leanne would ask me “What do we do if we call the police, and Mrs. Turner comes up here and tries to hurt us?” At first, I’d insist that we start thinking about that when we do run out of food the next day, but she’d insist we should come up with a plan. I’d point at the corner on the edge of the attic facing Spruce Street, the corner that’s to one’s right when coming up into the attic,
https://preview.redd.it/knoz0zwpou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=bd1694f292bb546ea45339ebecea7ffacfe33541
and say “Then you’d curl up and hide over there, and I’d take the radio, you’d take the metronome, and I’d sit down in front of you, shielding you, and if she gets in here before the cops do, we’ll defend ourselves. And we’d record everything on my phone. And we should probably hide behind the sofa. Maybe then, she might not notice we’re still up here at first. She’d probably be in a state of panic.” She’d look at me with sad, but touched eyes and just hug me and say thank you. I’d reply “Of course”. After some silence, I’d tell her “If anything happens to me… Please bring me back”.

She’d be touched by that, but say that if she reanimates me, the Church of Lesser Saints will come after ME as well because they’ll believe that I’ll be obligated to join. With a worried smile, I’d say “I know... But they’re probably already gonna do that, right? Because I won’t let them get to you!” We’d both nod with the same half-happy, half-worried expression. “And if things go terribly wrong and you have to bring me back, we can try again!”

I’d ask if I’m getting it right that the “great sins” they think she’s committing are not spending time with the Church and helping another family from the one that was assigned to her. She’d say yes and add that there’s a lot more they hate her for, like her “disobedient and rebellious streak”, disobeying their instructions, putting curses on people, and now, leaving the Marinos.
https://preview.redd.it/4obn4r9uou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1e77adafbde221c320999ba1169adb0a1c6b2b17
After a few seconds of silence (out of shock that this is how the Church of Lesser Saints frames it), I’d be like “If you disobey so many of their instructions, then...”, look her directly in the eyes, and go “Good! Keep on disobeying them! I’m actually kind of stunned that this is how they frame your actions, because that is so manipulative. Wanting to have a life where you don’t have to worry about your every step being watched and controlled, where you can actually freely explore what you believe – not what they tell you to believe, but what YOU believe, where you can do totally normal human things like listen to music, and where you can go wherever you want and make some basic decisions for yourself and work wherever you want, that doesn’t make you...” (doing the “quote-on-quote” with my hands while I say it) “quote-on-quote ‘disobedient’ or ‘rebellious’, it makes you a normal human being. If they forbid every little thing that people do that makes you happy, if you then look for happiness elsewhere, that’s on them. You can’t take every bit of joy away from people and then expect them to just deal with it. You wanting to run away, that’s the logical result of their bullshit. And you didn’t ‘leave’ the Marinos, you were taken. Don’t let them think you’re at fault in any way!” She might have never heard any verbal confirmation before that her feelings about leaving are valid, and this would be so reassuring to her. She’d tell me that whenever she did things like not be there for meals at the Church, skip assemblies, or curse people without permission, she would be brought before May and the rest of the community, get questioned about her behavior, and she’d have to self-flagellate to receive forgiveness.
https://preview.redd.it/roex7c20pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=32cecf94a41a97e66b1c74967cb074ca89321777
I’d go really still and quiet when she mentions the self-flagellation, which she’d then explain is a frequent punishment. That would freaking break my heart... I’d ask her when was the last time she hurt herself, and it was a little less than two weeks ago, before she was forced to leave the Turners. Very carefully and quietly, I’d ask her if it would be okay if she can show me her scars and add “You do NOT have to if you’re not comfortable, PLEASE don’t do it if you’re not”, and after a second, she’d nod and show me her back. My heart would break for her even more seeing her scars, I’d just express how horrible it is that they made her do that… I’d show her some of my cut wounds from when I self-harmed, which I hadn’t done in like three and a half years at that point. I’d want her to know that way that I get the urge, that I really do, but I’d tell her that hurting oneself achieves nothing. All it does is make you feel horrible mentally and physically, and every time you do it, there’s a risk of infection and even death. I’d just tell her I understand while taking her in my arms. I’d ask her to please look me in the eyes and tell me she won’t hurt herself again, and that when she feels like doing it again, to please talk to me first. She’d quietly say “I promise” while looking me in the eyes, and after some longer embraces, we’d both smile a bit, that would make me really happy to hear! I’d ask that when we’re out of here, if we can call a doctor sometime soon and get them to look at her scars to make sure none of them are infected, if she’s comfortable enough, and she’d nod and smile at me a little bit some more.

We’d eat after that. We’d run out of tomato soup that meal, and I’d tell her that when we’re getting out of there, I’d get her all the tomato soup in the world! “We’re gonna fill a whole hotel fridge with tomato soup!” “And with Ben & Jerry’s?”, she’d ask, and I’d say yes and say that we’re probably gonna need more than one fridge. I’d say we’re gonna pick the nicest and most expensive hotel to stay at, an idea that she’d love! “You still think Allentown is a good idea?”, I’d ask her, and she’d think my reasoning from the day before makes sense and say yes. We’d look for the nicest hotel in Allentown online and see that there are “only” three-star hotels in Allentown. Leanne would ask if getting such an expensive place to stay is really okay, and I’d say “Money is not an issue, don’t worry about it” while reaching across her back and like caressing her right shoulder, looking her in the eyes, and smiling. “And besides, let’s spoil you, you fucking deserve it after all this!” We wouldn’t book anything yet because we wouldn’t know when we can get out of there yet, but looking at all those insanely nice hotels would lift our spirits a bit.

After eating the first half of that day’s rations (only two half day’s rations would be left after that…), we’d think that it would probably be a good idea if we started writing the document for the police right now. Writing it can take hours upon hours, and there’s no point in delaying the rescue to write the document after I leave if we can do it right now, so we’d begin right that moment. It would begin something like “My name is Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999 in Odesa, Ukraine, residing in 501 Pembroke Ave, Philadelphia 19050, Pennsylvania...” (I don’t live there. I have no idea who does. Please leave them alone lmao) “...I sent this statement to my Facebook friend Liam [...] (residing in Tipperary, Ireland, using Facebook as Liam [...]) as a PDF file and told him to call the Philadelphia police and read this statement to them if I don’t come back online and confirm that I’m okay by 10 PM Philadelphia time / 3 PM London, UK time on December 22, 2022. If he is reading this to you, it probably means that there was no sign of life from me by that time, and that I’m not safe, probably kidnapped and locked up by Dorothy Turner, Sean Turner, Julian (I’m not sure about his surname, but I’m referring to Dorothy Turner’s brother - redhead, not very tall, moderately overweight) in the attic of their residence at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania”, and then document everything I’ve seen in chronological order and everything that Leanne has told me, with a link to our video and photographic evidence, references to DNA evidence that can probably be found in the hole in the basement if they haven’t covered it up by now, and a statement at the end saying that I’ve written it together with Leanne to make sure that everything is correct. That would take a really long time, hours for sure. But when it’s done, I’d run spell- and grammar checks on it and send it to my printer at home, to be queued for printing when I get home and turn it on. We’d also know that today (December 21) or tomorrow will be the day when we leave one way or another, so I’d schedule a text message to 911 in 30 hours from that moment. The message would say “This is a scheduled message. If you’ve received it, then Leanne Grayson (born October 13, 2001)...” (We only ever learn Leanne’s birth year from the gravestone. October 13 is Nell Tiger Free’s birthday, so October 13, 2001 being Leanne’s birthday is kind of my headcanon)
https://preview.redd.it/0hr9niq1pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=4dbead2015781ed8beee236188b8273aac1b3fb0
“...and me (Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999) are probably not safe, abducted and locked up against our will by Dorothy Turner, her brother Julian, and Sean Turner in the attic of their house at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania or somewhere else on the property. We need help immediately. The Turners should be considered dangerous and very clearly willing to use violence and intimidation. We need help NOW. Details in our prepared statement: [the link]”. Because we’re holding out hope that we won’t have to call the police from inside the attic, the document would include information on what our plan is to get Leanne (and me) out of there as safely as possible and call the police from the taxi, but that if we run out of rations, we won’t have a choice but to call the police while we’re unarmed and while the Turners still have the upper hand.

We would debate whether we should include information about the Church of Lesser Saints right away or tell the police about them later because we know how that sounds, considering that this would hurt the credibility of our testimony,
https://preview.redd.it/sinvabf3pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=e37811b53eb90cb8a066bfcb30f6244bb9f34ad4
but we’d modify the document and include the most important information about them as well, with more believable explanations - how they forced Leanne and other members to self-harm (meaning that current members or those who recently left), where they’re currently operating from in Lancaster,
https://preview.redd.it/mxbm8445pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1f9b5f1c671c15afce7149eeb90926c2c29b9bdb
that they faked their deaths, that they forced Leanne to leave the Turners, and the necessary lie that they took the real baby, and that Leanne hasn’t seen it since that day and doesn’t know where they’ve taken it. We’d also include names and stuff, and most importantly, reference the baptism tape and say that it shows May and George watching us from the sidewalk outside the church less than three weeks ago, and that piece of evidence would change everything in regards to investigating the Church of Lesser Saints and make the police believe us. We’d add that it’s probably among the other DVDs in the Turners’ living room, and that I’ll try to get it when leaving the building if our original plan is still going to be an option, rip the DVD at home, and add a link to the video file to the document. We’d modify the scheduled text message as well, and we’d charge both phones, mine first because the scheduled message is so important, but it’s an iPhone, so we could charge it to 100% rather quickly and then charge hers. And we’d add that we’d want the police to get Leanne’s things from the Marino estate. All her stuff being there would be further evidence that she was taken suddenly and against her will. We’d also add what number Leanne can be reached at for now with the Samsung Galaxy phone. And then, I’d send the document to Liam on all platforms where I know how to reach him, followed by a message to alert the authorities if I’m not back online confirming that we’re both okay in what’s now probably more like 29 hours, the phone number of the Philadelphia police, and caps at the beginning saying that it’s an actual emergency.

Out of nowhere, I’d ask her if she’s seen “Titanic” lmao, and with her near total isolation growing up, she wouldn’t have seen it. “I’ve only seen movies on TV”. I’d be like “I can show you lots of movies if you want! I got several subscriptions to streaming services, and also a bunch of stuff offline on an external drive at home.”
https://preview.redd.it/lr58woa7pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=63537b149270faeebb2c3f1be9ba2af0d259e1b7
Back on talking about “Titanic”, I’d tell her it’s wonderful and so freaking romantic, albeit over-the-top at times for sure and a bit overrated. It has that glossy feeling and some superficial characters to it that all James Cameron movies have, but it’s still really wonderful. After explaining the plot to her (since she’s grown up so isolated), I’d tell her about one scene that I’m thinking about a lot from time to time - near the end of the movie, when old Rose is done telling the researchers her story, she says that she doesn’t even have a picture of Jack, and that has hit me so hard from the first time I’ve seen the movie.
https://preview.redd.it/96bgw8s8pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=476c1a4cbee498c26a0be4651ef83258f0aa7748
She has no physical memories of him, she can never see his face again, and she can never show people what he looked like. That just rips my heart. I’d ask Leanne if we can take some pictures together. We’d look pretty horrible because we haven’t been able to shower in days, but we wouldn’t care and take them anyway and really, genuinely smile so hard. I’d send them to her email address (leanne_grayson@icloud.com, that email address is on her resume in the show),
https://preview.redd.it/frfz9e7apu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1b65065ab622e71f52edc6e9b84a2974e7efe9cb
manually sync my gallery with iCloud, and I’d send them to Liam. I’d ask what phone she got back at the Marinos’ and if she’s got any pictures of herself in her iCloud gallery, but she’d tell me she’s rarely ever taken pictures of herself, only for the resume she applied at the Turners’ for, and I’d be like “Whaaaaat? But you’re so beautiful!”, and she’d smile hard, a bit embarrassed. I’d look her straight in the eyes and say it again and say that I mean it for real, she is so incredibly beautiful! It’s probably so rare that anyone’s ever said that to her in her entire life (her mother definitely didn’t, and given that the Church of Lesser Saints believes that anything that feels good is dangerous,
https://preview.redd.it/msylzejbpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=b343bf8d10b86f7c731eed3c8a5204460daec4d4
it’s rather unlikely that they did), Tobe saying it in “Balloon” might even have been the only time ever…
https://preview.redd.it/jdce6tndpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=c9edaacd72634c3dbe7dbf29abcc84f2412a10d4
I’d then add “Inside AND out!”, and she’d smile some more in a bit of embarrassment and then look me in the eyes and say “You, too, Daria!”, and as you’d expect, I’d smile so hard and even with my eyes!

It would be rather late by then, so we’d eat and listen to some more music together from the Spotify playlist I created for her and talk so much about what we’re hearing.

After dinner, she’d bring the topic up on her own (this is kind of making fun of these fan theories) - she’d tell me that some in the Church of Lesser Saints think she’s the Devil or Lilith because of her rebelliousness, and how she’s inspired doubt in some people in the Church. I’d make such a weirded-out face. After realizing she’s serious, I’d say “If you are the Devil, then hail Satan! Like, seriously, if YOU are what God is threatening will happen if we don’t follow him, then that’s literally the weakest threat I’ve ever heard of. Then God is the villain here. We need more people like you in the world!” Shy as she still is, she’d still be almost embarrassed to hear this (she’s so not used to compliments), and I’d make it clear I’m serious, that I really think she’s fricking wonderful and the sweetest, and that she clearly has a huge heart full of so much love, and that she deserves so much better than what she’s ever experienced! Almost in denial, she’d see in my eyes that I really mean it and just smile and hug me, and then, we’d both smile even more! I’d rub her back a lot in that moment and promise her again that everything will be okay. “I’ll make sure of that!”

After some more music together, knowing that tomorrow will be the day we leave, no matter which plan we’ll go with, we’d make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. Looking around, I’d realize I have to give her my earphones with a cord because the internal mic of my Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini is essentially useless. I’d tell her that when I call her the next day to tell her it’s safe to come downstairs now, she should answer the call, plug in the earphones, and then, it will take a few seconds until I can hear her, but then, it should be fine. We’d set a code phrase that I’ll mention to let her know if the Turners got me and it’s NOT safe to come down. She’d suggest “tomato soup”, and I’d smile and say yes, that’s gonna be our code phrase. “And if it IS safe to come down?”, she’d ask, and I’d suggest “ice cream”.

I’d realize that we should probably find her fresh clothes in the attic and a coat right now, so as I said, it’s not too obvious that she’s been locked up for a long time the second she walks out of the door, because if she’s in dirty clothes or nightwear, with it being obvious that she hasn’t showered in days, and I get her out of there and into a taxi to drive off while I got a gun, it would look as if I was kidnapping her, so we’d find her a nice dress and coat up there, and I’d turn around and close my eyes while she puts it on, and when she’s done, I’d tell her again that she looks amazing! 😊
https://preview.redd.it/zp5gbjwfpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=777d2120f72b5002e2d5e5e9ffe4760ab2d5fada
And she’d smile and thank me this time, sort of the way she says it to the makeup artist at the street fair in S3E5 “Tiger” in that typical way of hers that’s so adorable for real,
https://preview.redd.it/fuu6x7ohpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=ec5f23b8de4568996bd6e4c706ab4f95b8f98063
and she’d look in my direction and say “You look really beautiful, too!”, really shy, before peeking me in the eyes for a moment, and we’d just look at each other for a moment. “Can I have your pictures?”, she’d ask me, and I’d say yeah, open my iPhone, and select ALL pictures of myself in my gallery and send them to her email address, and send her those that are too large via a Google Drive link (iCloud isn’t great for sharing files lol), and then, I’d take her Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini, download them all (which would take a while because that phone is ancient), and set one of the pictures we’ve taken together as her wallpaper, and then set it as my wallpaper on my iPhone as well! 😊

We’d consider if there’s anything else we’ve missed. She’d mention that parts of the floor screech, especially one tile, so when I sneak out, I gotta be careful on the stairs, especially with that one tile.
https://preview.redd.it/nijqz08jpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=6f6756ae6c304a5f5133c21ef857e0f91c6c91d7
After a few seconds, she’d ask me if we wanna book a hotel now, and I’d smile and say sure! “Did you like any hotels in particular, out of the ones we looked at?” She’d say “The one with the big jacuzzi looks great” with big eyes and enthusiasm in her voice, like she does during some of her conversations with Tobe in S3E5 “Tiger”. “You’ve ever been in a jacuzzi?”, I’d ask her, and she’d go “Nooo, but I wanna try!” in the same tone,
https://preview.redd.it/6rh2p63lpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=987a19161b85fe5ee6a500f452c168ba7dec961b
and so, after lying down now, we’d look up which hotel she was talking about and book a two-room suite in that hotel in Allentown for three weeks. I’d add “So we can easily look out for each other, and so you’ll also have some privacy.”, and she’d smile and nod, that consideration would probably mean a lot to her.

We’d then get ready for bed. For the next day, I’d get some better clothes as well and put them on while she’s turned around with her eyes closed. I’d take the last ration of food out of my backpack, put the clothes I just took off at the bottom of it, above Leanne’s Bible (the porcelain baby and card are already in one of the other pockets), and put my phone and the chargers in another pocket. I’d look around and ask her if there’s anything else I should take with me to safeguard, and at first, she’d also look around because she wouldn’t know how to answer right away, but she’d then point at Mrs. Barrington with her face,
https://preview.redd.it/amqsh2mmpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=12d0bfe376210a8798671d45f31e96e28037870b
and I’d be like “Well, I think she’s a little too big for my backpack, but I can talk to the police when we’re out of here, maybe we can try to get her!”, and Leanne would nod with a big smile again.

We’d lie down on the mattress and share the covers again. Just like the night before, I’d lie down on the side of the mattress that’s closer to the stairs, in case Dorothy changes her mind and tries to assault Leanne again… On the mattress, she’d suddenly hug me really tight, break into tears, and thank me over and over again, and I’d just hold her tight, say “Of course”, and assure her that everything’s gonna be okay, that we’ll get out of there tomorrow. I’d wipe some of her tears off her face 🥺 On the mattress, we’d just look each other in the eyes and both just smile more and more, and after a minute or two, she’d kiss me on the lips for a tiiiiny moment and then, we’d just smile at each other even harder! She’d say “I’m not supposed to do that” while still smiling just as hard and looking me directly in the eyes! “Says who?”, I’d reply. She goes “My aunts and uncles”, and I’d say “I don’t think they’re a reliable source!”, and we’d kiss each other some more and longer, and both feel each other’s smile on our lips, and peek at each other a few times in between 😊🥰❤️ We’d both put our arms around each other before telling each other good night and before I promise her one more time it’s all going to be okay!
https://preview.redd.it/08fqmdqspu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=477498f6f3e6260f2a0429defebf98475b14eda1
At some point during the night, she’d wake me up, and when she does, I’d realize I had a nightmare, like, not from my night terrors, and she’d tell me I had a nightmare, that I was sniffling in my sleep, and that I told her two days earlier to wake me up if this happens. Still feeling terrible (the feeling of immediate dread always takes a while to subside for me), I’d thank her. I’d ask what I was saying, and she’d say that I wasn’t speaking English. I’d consider if I should tell her for a moment, but then, I’d take a deep breath, look up for a second, and with a heavy voice, slowly say “What if we try plan A tomorrow, and I fail? I’m scared… I don’t wanna mess this up… I don’t wanna fail you…” And she’d slowly look at me and just say two words: “You haven’t!” I’d look at her and almost laugh a bit out of joy. I’d smile and just cuddle up to her a bit, and she’d do it back. I’d say I’ll try to listen to music for a while to calm down because doing something else makes it much easier for me to zone out of the feeling of dread again. “Why only you?”, she’d ask. “I don’t wanna keep you awake”, I’d say, “You need the sleep”, and she’d say “It’s okay” and just smile a bit, and so, we’d listen to some music together for about half an hour.

I’d tell her that my sleep is so horrible (she’d say she can tell) because I don’t have my meds, and I’m really fricking looking forward to taking them again. Without them, the quality of my sleep is terrible, and it takes so long for me to fall asleep at all if I don’t take them. She’d ask if I’ve taken them for a long time, and I’d say that I haven’t taken these particular meds for long because whatever I take, my body builds up some resistance to them pretty quickly, so after a while, I always have to get new ones, but I’ve taken sleeping meds for years now. “It sounds like they’re really helping you, right?”, she’d ask, and I’d nod and say “Yeah, they really do. I’m also taking antidepressants, and they were an absolute gamechanger for me. It’s okay if I don’t take them for a few days because they don’t work in the moment, but they like rewire your brain over time, and they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my mental health. Before I started taking them, it was so hard for me to avoid bad thoughts or resist them, like, it was hell, but ever since then, it got sooo much easier, and not letting things get to me or not letting bad things really take over me is just so much easier now.” After a while, I’d say “I was at a psychiatric clinic voluntarily for six months, but I also had nowhere else to go, and the doctors and employees really abused their power. They only intervened when there was physical violence, they didn’t intervene in any other conflicts, so because of them, the patients constantly bullied each other. My doctor switched to another department while I was there, so I got a new one, and the new one wasn’t perfect, but at least, she cared. I got really lucky to get a place at a living group for mentally ill people, which was when I could finally leave. But honestly, all my experiences with mental health professionals since then have been better. I went to a different clinic for four or five days voluntarily in 2019, and even they were far better. “That sounds scary…”, she’d say. I’d reply “It was. But things got much better after that. I had lots of setbacks, like, you know, but if you get help, it’s always better.”

After the current song’s over, we’d lie down to try and sleep again. We’d smile at each other again in bed, and I’d give her a short-ish kiss before saying good night, and we’d both smile even harder after that 😁 And we would fall asleep for good after a while (it would still take me longer than her).

In the morning, Leanne would wake me up again. She’d show me that the door is unlocked and open by a little bit now (they’re “letting” her out for a few hours…),
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and we’d both just embrace and chuckle in huge joy, as we can go with plan A now, the less risky one! We’d remember to quiet down after a few seconds and whisper from then on out. I’d go to the toilet roll, take eight pieces, rip them into two bands of four pieces each, and roll each of them up into a little bunch. I’d give them to her and tell her to put them into the wall pieces of the door when she gets out (so it looks like the door is closed while it can’t actually lock) and give me an audible signal when the third floor is clear, so I’ll get out with my backpack, take out the toilet paper, and hide in her room.
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“Is there anything you want me to get from there?”, I’d ask. “No. Everything is here or at the Marinos’.” I’d go “Okay” and move on - since I’m almost definitely unable to come down to the second floor right away (I’m using American English in all of these episodes. “First floor” in American English = “ground floor” in British English; “Second floor” in American English = “first floor” in British English; “Third floor” in American English = “second floor” in British English, etc.), she’d give me a signal when coming back upstairs. We’d agree that when she comes back upstairs, if it’s safe to go to the second floor, she’d shout something, maybe in conversation, maybe some sort of cry, doesn’t matter, and if not, she’d kick something. She’d be locked upstairs again after that, so I’ll have to tell when to get further downstairs myself, which I’d do as soon as I’ve heard absolutely no sounds from inside the house for at least a few minutes. On the first floor, I’d get the DVD from March 11, 2001, and if the baptism tape isn’t clearly labeled among the tapes, I’d unplug the DVD player from the TV, turn on the player, open the DVD slot, and if the tape isn’t in there, I’d take all unlabeled tapes. I’d then listen in on the basement door for a few seconds, and if I hear no sounds from down there, I’d quietly open the basement door and go downstairs, and if no one’s there, I’d get out through the side entrance down there, out through the back gate, walk back to Spruce Street, drive my bike home, take a shower, watch the tape from March 11, 2011 like she told me I could, hide it somewhere at home, print out the document for the police, take it with me in an envelope, print out a second version of it to give to the taxi driver, so I can say “If I’m not back in an hour, please call the police for me and read this to them”. I’d then call a taxi (a taxi with a large trunk whose driver is allowed to drive to Allentown and back), load my gun, and leave for the Turners’ and get Leanne.

We’d see that Liam has replied by now. Of course, he’d be super worried, but he’s got our backs for the plan, and that would be really reassuring. We’d look each other in the eyes, and then, I’d hug her sooo tight for several seconds, and we’d have one loooong kiss (hoping it’s not the last time we see each other…) before she goes downstairs while looking back at me on the way before putting the toilet paper in the door. I’d then put on my backpack. Once Leanne loudly shouts “Mister Turner?”, that would be my signal, and I’d hide in her room for about 45 minutes before she’s “let” back upstairs and shouts “You can lock me in now, Mrs. Turner”,
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which is when I’d sneak into the storage/guest room and wait. It would take like five hours until I hear nothing for a while, which is when I’d sneak onto the first floor, look around to make extra sure no one’s there, and go to the living room. I’d get the tape from March 11, 2011, and the baptism tape would be among the labeled DVDs, and I’d put it into the box of the March 11, 2011 tape (I’d put the original DVD loose in there and use the spot inside the box for the baptism tape because it’s probably more important. I then wouldn’t hear anything from the basement, so I’d slowly and quietly go down there. No one would be there, so I’d leave as planned and go home and take a shower. I’d watch the March 11, 2011 DVD. I’d be surprised to see the interaction between Leanne and Dorothy for sure, but sort of knowing her, I wouldn’t think anything bad of it. I’d actually get it because of my past celebrity crushes (which I know isn’t what she was feeling for Dorothy) and the desire to meet them, especially with Blanche. I’d get why Leanne wouldn’t want the police to see it, it would look bad for her. I’d wrap up the DVD in a thick piece of paper and tape it to the back of my closet, between the closet and the wall. I’d burn the piece of paper in the DVD case in my bathtub with a bucket of water next to me just in case. I’d test if the DVD of the baptism tape still works (it does), rip it, upload the video file to Google Drive, add it to the document for the police, cancel my printing queue, print the document (two versions of it. The one for the taxi driver would just have a short introduction at the beginning, like, that I’m the person who ordered the taxi), order the taxi, pack my things for the next couple of weeks and anything that Leanne might need, so I’d include any clothes that I think could fit her, and go to the taxi. I’d tell the driver to get me one block away from 9780 Spruce Street (which isn’t actually a real address, by the way) and wait there for me. Before leaving for the Turner house, I’d give him the envelope with his version of the letter for the police and tell him what I said I would tell him. I’d then get my backpack with the gun in it from my luggage in the trunk, and walk to the Turners’ house.

I have already "written" so much more in my head, but I've now reached the end of what I've actually written down, so it will take longer until the next episode is out now! Hope you've enjooooyed this one!
submitted by ikieneng to teamleanne [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 00:01 Gossip-Luv2 Retrieved the content of Tweets on SLB's eccentricities - The Mythmaker’s Legacy - Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, I am the Greatest of Them All!

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
What?’
Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.
This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
One should not waste food,’ he said.
I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
No, not worthwhile.’
Are you interested in direction also?
No, am not delusional.
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
What are you writing now?
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
What am I supposed to say if he asks?
Make up something,’ I was told.
Why should I?
You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.
Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?
The vibrator jokes never stop.
submitted by Gossip-Luv2 to BollyBlindsNGossip [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 00:00 Dr-ThrowawayAccount Options for addressing billing issues when terrified of bosses?

TL;DR: What are my options to finding claim details not in my EHR without having to involve my boss when I don't have clearinghouse access?
This is gonna be long because I don't really have another outlet to vent about this OR ask my practical question. Buckle up and thanks for reading!
Context:
I am working in a group practice. Despite being in the field for over a decade, this is my first time providing services for a fee and dealing with anything billing or insurance related. The practice is run by two owners, let's call them "Sarah" and "Jack." The owners are pleasant enough to deal with 98% of the time, however, they are known for being hot-headed and possibly even verbally abusive. This has been cited by several employees who have left and I have experienced degrees of it myself. To make matters worse, they are VERY private and protective over anything related to the behind the scenes of running their business, which is somewhat understandable. I've been told this started when past former employees took information/resources/clients provided by the company and started their own competing company (though this is hearsay since I didn't work for them at the time). But because this is all very new for me, sometimes I have had questions or made well-intentioned efforts to advocate for my clients that unfortunately have been met with defensiveness, suspiciousness, and variations of "stay in your lane" (a phrasing my boss knows for a fact is particularly triggering for me). So I now find myself having palpable anxiety reactions at the thought of angering them with during conversations.**
It will also be helpful to know that the bulk of the employee turnover has been in the administrative/billing department. In fact, in the 18 months I have worked for the company we have had 3 separate billers, with Sarah & Jack filling in during interims.
Current Situation:
There have been some issues with employees having discrepancies with paychecks/taxes. We are paid our (fair and reasonable percentage) of session fees biweekly "in arrears" (aka once insurance pays). I have been lax in tracking all this and decided to sit down and go through my records as I prepare my taxes (I filed an extension lol). This personal accounting tracking has essentially involved me looking in our EHR (Simple Practice) at key pieces of information: 1) Session dates for the past year for each client, 2) Whether those claims were submitted to insurance vs Self Pay, 3) When the session was paid by insurance (and associated claim #s), 4) The amount paid, and 5) whether that correct amount showed up in the right biweekly paycheck.
In working through this process I have come across several client charts where I cannot go through this tracking for one of several reasons. For most of these the issue is that sessions are marked as "paid" and an amount is listed and there are associated claim #s & clearinghouse references; however, the claim details unable to be viewed. This means for these claims/charts I cannot see the date they were paid in order to figure out which paycheck they belong on to verify I am not missing any fees I was expected to be paid. I have also identified a few sessions that were billed incorrectly (either sent to insurance when shouldn't be or charged full fee to client when they shouldn't be). There are also a few where the amount I was listed as having been paid doesn't match the contract rate but I cannot verify why without any claim details.
I want to be clear that my first thought is that these are honest errors and the issue has a lot to do with too many different billers with different way of processing things AND my limited access as a non biller or administrator in the EHR system.
Dilemma and Complications:
I have tried looking in Simple Practice at everything I can see and there is just missing info no matter how I slice it. Months ago I tried requesting access to Availity but the biller at the time denied that, so I do no have clearinghouse access and don't anticipate Sarah & Jack would be open to giving me any. As much as I can't afford the time to do so, I figured maybe I have to call the insurance companies about each of the claims... But my first attempt at reaching out to BCBS was a bust since I couldn't reach a provider services agent and the member services agent couldn't give me much info, just could "verify" what I asked her (i.e. was claim from 5/1 paid out for $100?). So that doesn't help because the main info I need is the payment date and they couldn't give it to me.
So I tried reaching out to the company's current biller (who overall I like) to see if we could have a phone meeting to review these charts. My thought process was that she would have access to the needed info OR insight as to why it might not be available. But she forwarded the message to Sarah & Jack who asked I deal with them directly about it. The exact response was "Please tell me who you need clarity on so I can look at the charts and we can meet after I have had a chance to review." I know this seems innocuous...but...I am TERRIFIED to do this! For one thing, any prior discussions about possible billing issues have been poorly received. Furthermore, I have already sent emails to Sarah & Jack about some of these billing errors closer to the dates of service, so I fully anticipate they will be defensive if I point out they were not addressed/corrected. I know it is irrational but a part of me feels betrayed by the biller and as if I was "fed to the wolves."
Maybe I am wrong, but I feel like the information I am asking for should be accessible to me as the provider of the service and whose NPI number was used for billing. I am fully aware that some of why I can't see the needed info on my own may be due simply to technology or innocent past mistakes...but I worry Sarah & Jack will not see it this way or understand I am not intentionally searching for errors for malicious or litigious reasons. Honestly, I don't even care about the timing of the payments...I am just trying to do personal finance accounting to make sure I am "whole" for the past year.
So allllll that is to say.....is there any option for info access I haven't considered? Is avoiding Sarah and Jack worth the time to try and keep contacting the insurance companies? If I do have to go through Sarah and Jack, any advice on how to present this info to reduce blow back/anger?
** P.S. I know I can/should quit and that this is not an appropriate way to run a business or treat employees. But I am not in a position to leave at this time. So I am trying to find the best way to navigate the current circumstances until I am able to leave.
***P.S.S. Please be kind. I already feel weak, stupid and shameful for being in this situation. I know I should have dealt with it sooner and that I am a grown ass competent professional who shouldn't be feeling this fearful in a professional situation like this. But here we are.
submitted by Dr-ThrowawayAccount to therapists [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:57 evatao What would closure look like? My (31F) ex-best friend (32F) reached out after almost 10 years…

((Cross-posted to relationship advice, delete if not allowed. I am adding here because I was diagnosed as Autistic four years ago, and y’all have given me great advice in the past))
My best friend from elementary through high school and I had a falling out our last year of college. We went to different schools and were setting up to have very different lives, so I think we would have naturally fallen apart, but I cut her off for a few reasons:
  1. She told me what to do when my parents divorced, although I told her I wouldn’t tell her the full story because it was not mine to tell. She also pressured me into talking about the divorce (it was bad) before I was ready.
  2. I felt that she never listened to me and steamrolled over me when it came to my own opinions.
  3. I was always the one to reach out and initiate/plan our encounters, or even just to talk with her.
I told her these things, to which she got defensive and started gaslighting me, so I cut her out. I didn’t initiate contact, which naturally led to our relationship dying, and when she initiated I was receptive but did not plan or suggest planning anything.
The only negative thing I think I did was delete a comment she made on an old picture on FaceBook of us, something about wishing we were still friends, because it was public and my family asked me about it, so I got embarrassed and deleted it. I replied to her privately and told her to message me a time that worked for her so we could Skype (I was in another country at that point). She never replied. That was almost 10 years ago.
Eventually I removed her on everything — not blocked, just removed — because I didn’t want to be tempted to look her up and didn’t want her looking me up. I also removed her family, so they couldn’t contact me on her behalf (which happened once when I initially cut her out).
Now, she reached out a week after my birthday, with a follow request on Instagram. Her mom reached out to my mom (they are still friends) and said my old friend wanted to wish me a happy birthday and asked for my phone number. I told my mom not to give out my phone number, that my old friend had reached out on Instagram, and that I would talk to her through that if I wanted to, which is a message my mom passed on to the other mom.
I talked to my therapist about the whole thing, our friendship and breakup and everything, and she told me to think about what I would want for closure… I am in no hurry to answer her, so I looked up the definition of closure and did some Google research on closure, but I still don’t have an answer.
I do feel bad about how it ended, but I also don’t particularly want to rekindle friendship. I’m curious as to why she reached out at all, after all this time, as we’re vastly different people now (her Instagram is open to the public so I looked).
I was diagnosed with Autism almost four years ago, and my life is much better now. I realized she never really knew me, because I was so heavily masked. I wonder if my undiagnosed Autism played a role in how it all turned out…
I plan to continue working with my therapist, but I would like to hear more opinions, and I’m not comfortable sharing all the details with my current friends, so I ask you, Reddit…
In my situation, what would you do? What would closure look like for you in this case? If you’ve been in a similar situation, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
submitted by evatao to aspergirls [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:49 Lanzen_Jars A job for a deathworlder [Chapter 168]

[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki] ; [Patreon]


Chapter 168 – The moment to live and the moment to die

„Jumping!“ an Ensign announced loudly as the Sun's view-windows very briefly flickered into a dark black only to go back to a full view of the ongoing battle basically instantly, having barely shifted the ship's position at incomprehensible speed. „Shot clear of allied ships.“
Vice-Admiral Kazadi tapped his finger on one of the armrests of the Commander's seat that still felt anything but comfortable for him to sit in as the tight grid of flashing lights reflected in his eyes within the twilight of the bridge.
“Fire,” he then ordered. Not even a blink later, a burst of colorful light broke into his view from the side of his very own ship, lighting up the entirety of the bridge even through the automatically tinting windows that absorbed a lot of the harmful light so the crew wouldn't flashbang themselves with each shot.
The relativity canon fire tore through the enemy ship at an almost literal instant with any travel time barely being conceivable to a mortal mind. In a large unload of energy that left almost the entire stern-side of the zodiatos ship as a molten mass of dispersing slag, the main propulsion was taken out. Simultaneously, the two accompanying cruisers had also taken their shots; with the 'Civil' taking out the engine of one more enemy vessel while the 'of the roses' had instead used its shot to disperse one of the enemy projectiles in order to buy their own hunter ships more freedom of movement. Those huge ones didn't go down easy from one of the hunters' smaller shots, so using one of the large canons to dispatch it took some of the heat off them.
Meanwhile, smaller targets on the enemy vessels, such as their own canons, were gradually taken out by said hunters, whose own fire – while able to be quite destructive if intended no doubt – could be used in a far more precise manner. With more and more of their canons failing, the protective volleys the coreworld terrorists could fire to hide themselves away also became less and less effective.
“Send the fallback-beacon,” Kazadi then ordered, since close quarter attacks became less and less necessary.
It seemed that the zodiatos had a hard time adjusting to the combat style of the human unkindnesses, however that didn't mean they should take any unnecessary risks. Even if a pilot could've been able to avoid all enemy attacks in a perfect world, he knew that his pilots were only human.
Casualties of their own had been comparatively minimal so far, however as if to prove him right about his thoughts, he could see on his surveillance screen how, just in that moment, one of their ships was taken out by an enemy craft.
He grimaced to himself and let out a mild sigh. One more family who would never see one of their own again...
It took a moment before all the ships were reached by the beacon. Due to the nature of their own combat strategies, as well as the particular nature of hyperspace, it was entirely impossible to effectively contact any of their ships directly while they were out in the battle. Therefore, the order to fall back had to be broadcast as a general signal, that each of the pilots could individually pick up as soon as they would keep still for long enough so that it could reach them.
By now, the battle was already won. None of the zodiatos' weapons were able to match the relativity canons in effective range and without the larger ships to back them up, their small hunters wouldn't be able to launch an offensive – shields or not. They could just stay back and fire until surrender now. As the signal was picked up, one of their ships after another disappeared in one last flash of hyperspace as they joined back up with the larger vessels in an enclosing formation.
“Prepare for the retrieval of some of those projectiles,” the Vice-Admiral then ordered as he hoped they would be able to track some of those spent shots their enemies had fired. They would have to figure out what kind of tech that was.
In such a small-scale conflict, it was more than manageable to face it. However, it could offer some difficulties in larger fleets – especially since they didn't know how far this kind of tech could possible be expanded and refined. It was quite possible this was just some form of prototype.
While that order was followed, one of his Lieutenants suddenly spoke up.
“Sir, we have an incoming transmission from the planet. Civilian. Not encrypted, but they seemingly had an access code,” they related quickly.
“Is the earlier interference cleared up?” he immediately asked back, to which the answer was positive. “Put it through then,” he immediately ordered as soon as he heard that.
He rubbed one of his tight braids between his fingers as he waited for contact to be established. Once the line was clear, things remained quiet for a moment.
“What are we best at?” he then asked the silent line, his chest tightening ever so slightly, even if he didn't have to wait long for a reply.
“Topping from the bottom,” a very familiar voice replied from the other end, sounding incredibly strained but most certainly alive.
The code phrase was an old in-joke about something that had been said back during humanity's first contact with the tonamstrosites due to a slightly choppy translation. However, it more than sufficed here to tell Kazadi that the person on the other side of the line was not only genuine, but also not in any immediate distress – at least none that was brought onto her by someone else.
“Good to hear your voice Ma'am,” he greeted the Admiral after taking a brief moment to allow his heart to settle.
“The pleasure is all mine, Celestin,” Admiral Krieger replied in between heavy breaths that sounded like a combination between being ready to collapse and absolutely willing to tear anyone's throat out at a moment's notice. “Excuse me for the unorthodox contact, my own means of communication have all been destroyed. Update me.”
A brief smile played on the Vice-Admiral's lips.
“No problem, Ma'am. Things are under control up here, but multiple allied coluyvoree ships were destroyed and we suffered some casualties of our own which I will take full responsibility for,” he quickly complied. “By now, the enemy crafts have been largely disabled and our fighters are falling back. What's the situation on your end?”
There was a bit of a grunt from the other side of the line that seemed unrelated to the ongoing conversation.
“I'm sure you did everything by the books,” Krieger then replied a moment later. “Down here the situation is precarious but momentarily under control. We have an unconfirmed number of casualties after an attack with an unknown weapon. All squads are either KIA or unresponsive. We took down six enemy combatants but can't confirm if there's more. I'm going to need clean up, rescue teams, as well as pickup for me and two large offworlders asap.”
Celestin nodded.
“We're in a stable position, so we'll jump teams down right away. Hold out just a minute more,” he assured her while already signing in the necessary order to the troops they had on standby. “How bad are your injuries?”
There was another groan of pain from Krieger's side.
“Crushed cranberries,” she replied after a long moment that sounded like she needed to catch her breath.
“Copy that,” Kazadi replied with a grimace. “Sending muti-team with the evac.”
“Copy that,” Krieger confirmed. “Krieger out.”
With that, the call was hung up. On his screen, Celestin could see how the preparations for dispatch of the requested teams was already well underway. Jumping towards a planet at FTL was generally discouraged by the Galactic Community. However, this was an emergency. They couldn't wait for normal re-entry.
After watching the reported progress for just a moment, his eyes returned to the ongoing battle. He watched the enemy ships as they hovered dead in space, unable to maneuver.
They seemed to have recalled their own fighters back in order to form some sort of protective wall around the 'mother ships' with their own small shields. Obviously it wouldn't be very effective, so it seemed like needless cruelty to make their own soldiers get in the way of the incoming fire. Something within Kazadi told the Vice-Admiral they weren't going to stand down.
“Sir, we're getting some strange hyperspace-readings,” his Lieutenant suddenly announced, making him look up.
“Weapon-grade?” he immediately asked, knowing they had less than a moment to react if it was. However, he also figured there would've been more urgency to their voice had it been so.
“No, Sir. Travel-grade,” the Lieutenant quickly replied. “However the readings are unusual. It seems like they are creating a stretch solely around themselves.”
Kazadi's lips shifted a bit as he took that in and he briefly ran a hand over his mouth in thought. “Prepare to collapse,” he ordered. “Maybe they will attempt some sort of running start. We can't let them get away.”
Right then, the light of what was happening had not yet caught up to the spacial distortion that their sensors were detecting, meaning the ships still looked perfectly normal – if damaged – when he looked at them. However, they were planning something. And that made them appear all the more ominous.
His mind quickly went through their own protocols. The U.H.S.D.F. employed hyperspace in nearly all its possible facets in their tactics. If it was even close to sensible, they would have something that was akin to the maneuver their foes were attempting to execute right now.
A bubble of hyperspace solely around their ships...a dodge? Hardly, there was nothing to dodge like that. An attempt to hide away? No, they knew human ships could collapse hyperspace from the outside easily.
Before him, the windows of the ship once again automatically dimmed, protecting the crew's eyes as the colorful light of the created hyperspace-bubble finally reached them.
“Hyperspace collapsed!” the Lieutenant then suddenly announced, causing Kazadi to blink in surprise as his eyes shot up to his screen. He hadn't given any order to collapse it yet. But indeed, it was gone. For a moment, he thought that the stress had caused his officer to use the wrong term in haste, however no, they had been completely right. It had not been dispersed in a controlled manner. It had collapsed.
In a mild 'thud', the Vice-Admiral's fist descended on the armrest, hand firmly clenched into a fist.
“Those cowardly ba-” he began to growl but then bit his tongue and released a low, almost grunting exhale while his fist quivered from momentarily clenching tighter. “Prepare to search for survivors,” he instead said in a much more controlled manner a moment later. “Preserve lives.”
“Yessir,” multiple of his officers echoed back as he looked out of the window, where he could still see the ghostly afterimage of the hyperspace bubble linger for a bit longer. It was always a strange feeling, seeing someone in the distance who was already dead...

With her view darkened and her goggles momentarily pulled off her eyes, Shida stared at the glowing bubble of impossible colors. Her sensors had already told her what was about to happen at any moment now, however her eyes still heavily constricted as they finally witnessed what unfolded themselves.
In what could be described as nothing else than a 'snap' , the light of the hyperspace-stretch instantly condensed down into its original size as the universe all at once remembered that the laws of physics were a thing that existed and brutally forced space to conform to them once again – no matter what may have been in between it and its original form.
Anything within the strange, round stretch was mercilessly ripped along with the convulsion, forcing all the injected warships and fighters into the single, small point that the stretch had been generated from. Though not even a faction of a second later, it all exploded outwards again as the megatons of mass realized that they could not all exist in the same place at once, since the energy of the event was not quite potent enough to press it all into a neutron star or singularity.
No longer recognizable blotches of undefined, white-hot matter were instantly scattered in all directions like some sort of micro-supernova that accentuated the sometimes still burning nano-stars that the earlier battle had created from the opposing fighters.
It was almost pretty...but still, Shida couldn't help but let her ears hang as she wondered how many of the enemy combatants had known about the decision to end things this way. Had any of them even been asked?
Even if it was the far more disturbing answer in a way, Shida almost hoped that this had actually been one mutual suicide-pact instead of the decision of one single commander to choose death over dishonor. Especially while sitting in a ship that was technically under the command of someone else herself, that was certainly the less immediately petrifying option – even if it would probably spell far worse things in the long run.
As she said there, the 'shockwave' of the collapsing hyperspace suddenly hit her, spreading out through space even without any medium to carry it and rocking her ship gently while also penetrating all throughout her body. Of course the earlier relativity fire had already caused similar ripples and she was therefore quite used to the feeling, however these ones sure felt a bit more severe than those of the U.H.S.D.F.'s own canons. It was like she felt her own body distort while also remaining perfectly in palace – almost like she was a stiff container full of water that someone had given a heavy smack from the side, riling up the liquid without it actually having any place to plash to.
According to everything they knew, this phenomenon felt incredibly odd but was entirely harmless to living beings – which was instinctively very hard to believe when one felt it on their own body.
However, her dwelling thoughts were, perhaps luckily, interrupted as she – or more precisely one of her scanners - picked up on a peculiar signature that one of the scattered debris pieces was sending out.
Well, it was 'peculiar' to her that there was a signal at all at first, however then she quickly realized what it actually was. This particular signal was hammered into any pilot's head six ways to Sunday, and so she reacted relatively quickly when she glanced at the grid and realized that she was the closest ship to it. Firing up her engines, she turned her ship on the spot in a slight drift before activating her generator and making a jump right behind the flying object.
Once there, she allowed her computer to take aim for a second before firing out a harpoon that quickly struck the flying debris and latched her ship onto it through a long cable, allowing her to pull the thing along with her after slowly using her backwards thrusters to disperse its speed little by little. Pressing the indicator of her communication, she then spoke up.
“Scratches to Sun,” she announced. “I just recovered a black box. Permission to return for inspection?”
The black boxes of modern ships truly were among the most ridiculous pieces of tech out there, in Shida's humble opinion. Built to withstand almost everything that would likely take a ship out through a combination of brilliant engineering and extremely flexible material that only worked in its indented manner on very small scales. Well, very small compared to the ships they were built into. The things were about half the size of Shida in the end. For many years, armies of scientists had attempted their very best to make this same sort of defense useful in ways that could maybe be used to protect actual people from catastrophic events – but to no avail so far. For now, the only thing those little marvels could allow to survive even something as ludicrous as hyperspace collapsing was information.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant-Commander,” the answer came almost immediately. “Return to hangar three.”
“Copy,” Shida replied. “Scratches out.”
With that, she moved her ship around and prepared for her jump back to the Sun. Hopefully this thing would give them some answers on what exactly this whole thing was meant to accomplish...

Far away in another part of the galaxy, a pair of mildly glowing red eyes was laser-focused on a large screen that was just one of many that had merged all over Nedstaniot-Station to broadcast the breaking news to anyone willing to lift their eyes at a slight angle to look at them.
An attack on a coreworld. And not just any coreworld. Gewelitten itself. Something like this hadn't happened in...well, Curi didn't even know how long.
Details seemed to still be incredibly fuzzy as the battle so close to the coluyvoree homeworld had either just happened or was still happening at the moment of the broadcast, however what few details were known were already repeated on end in an endless scroll of text that was meant to catch as many people up to speed as was at all possible through the medium of television. Obviously the same emerging details could already be looked up on the net as well to find them in a more digestible format than the endlessly moving text next to the not exactly top quality footage of the occurring conflict.
However, despite the speed with which it went by, Curi had no problem following the scroll as they stared at the screen intensely.
“Attack was unannounced. Multiple Gewelitten fleet ships destroyed. Official sources confirm: Humanity NOT the aggressor. Attacking ships presumed to be of zodiatos origin. Unknown weapon technology deployed during the attack. U.H.S.D.F. ships engaged in combat after aggression. Myiat delegation ship confirmed unharmed. Attack on government facility on planet simultaneous to spacial attack. Councilman-Candidate Aldwin confirmed unharmed. Status of U.H.S.D.F. General Krieger unknown. Status of Gewelitten Governor H. Cierrophai unknown. Status of Acting-Councilman Afuéhner unknown. Allied coreworld defense fleets activated and inbound. General alert level raised to 8. Hyperspace-travel shut down around the system.”
“Mother, oh no...” Mueen said with absolute shock in his eyes, both of his hands clasped over this mouth as his wide pupils quivered in fear from what they witnessed.
Curi could understand his worry. Though Moar had supposedly been with James, so she would probably be fine. The cyborg was certainly more than just a little relieved that James was already confirmed to be safe. Though the idea that Admiral Krieger's situation was unknown was more than just a little disconcerting.
Though despite the supposed lack of their commanding officer, it seemed like the humans had decisively won out in the battle outside of the coreworld's atmosphere; unknown technology or not.
Given the sub-par footage that some drone was likely recording from quite far away from the actual conflict, it was very hard to tell just what sort of weapon the unknown but presumed to be zodiatos attackers had unleashed there. It looked like some sort of emanating energy that destroyed what it came into contact with but also interacted with it as if it had a physical presence.
Curi had never seen anything remotely like it before – not even in their wildest theories – and their mind immediately wanted to go wild with speculations and ideas about how such a thing might work now that they knew for a fact that it was possible from seeing it with their own eyes.
However, the cyborg pulled themselves together and successfully forced the briefly almost overwhelming desire to focus on nothing else down as they shifted their gaze slightly away from the screen to look over at their other currently nearby company.
Then again, as much as they knew they couldn't let their guard down around him, Reprig's eyes were just as immovably attached to the large screen as Mueen's were as he witnessed the unfolding battle with quivering horror.
His trunk was wiggling wildly in his face and one of his hands nervously scratched over the plate of the table they were all sitting and standing at and on, right next to a piece of paper with a hastily drawn sketch of a spring-like mechanical leg that was inspired by what humans called 'running blades'. The Warrant Officer's weapon also laid on the table, pushed a but further away from his hand so he wouldn't be able to easily reach it.
Though despite his focus, Curi couldn't quite help but speak up after a moment of watching him. “A coreworld attacking another coreworld,” they said to the man, who they knew either had to know far more than they did about this – or would be far more invested in it unfolding. “This is unprecedented.”
Reprig seemed to notice that they were talking to him, however he still remained silent and stared a good few moments longer before finally pulling his gaze away from the screen.
As his eyes met theirs, he looked a bit sick. It almost reminded the cyborg of one of the first interactions they had with the man, back when they nudged him slightly to hand his spy-device back to him after he tried to hide it in James' cabin. Though this time, the cyborg was quite sure that they were not the reason why the man seemed like most of his blood was currently rushing into his stomach.
Could he actually be shocked about what was happening? Was this not part of the plan?
“Unprecedented doesn't even come close to describing it...” he mumbled and couldn't hold the cyborg's gaze for long, looking down to the table's plate instead. “And these aren't just any coreworlds. Osontjar and Gewelitten have been allied for an unimaginably long time. The thought that they would even think of attacking each other...what sort of madness could've caused something like this?”
Curi was the first to admit to themselves that they were far from the best at reading people. If someone with even a modicum of skill in acting wanted to make them believe something untrue about the person they were talking to, they would never deny that there was a good chance of that person succeeding.
Still, Reprig's reaction felt...genuine to them. As if he had actually never expected something like this to happen. Not in a million years.
Maybe it was just skillful acting. And Curi knew that they should have been suspicious like that. However, despite everything he had done, they couldn't quite bring themselves to suspect that he was lying at that moment.
“I know it is unlikely you will give me an honest answer, but-” Curi began to say, however Reprig was more than able to anticipate what they were going to ask and replied long before they were finished.
“No. No. Never,” the sipusserleng said, shaking his head heavily and standing his trunk up while making a denying gesture with his hand that was so brash that he actually knocked his crutch off the small outcrop in the table it had been laid down on. “This must be some absolutely deranged people, no two ways about it. To attack a coreword...”
Curi noticed Reprig's gaze briefly twitching down, his eyes jumping onto the personal assistant strapped to his lower arm as if he suddenly got the urge to use it for something.
Curi suspected he likely wanted to call someone; question them to make extra sure that they had, in fact, nothing to do with this. Though the sipusserleng suppressed the urge and pulled his eyes away, bringing them back up to the screen.
Just at that moment, the implosion of collapsing hyperspace suddenly lit up the footage moments before the glowing remnants of what once had been the zodiatos ships were scattered across the star-system.
Mueen mumbled something in his home's language as his eyes remained affixed to the screen. Curi couldn't even begin to guess what he was saying. However, his voice sounded pleading.
“Suicide instead of surrender?” Reprig meanwhile mouthed breathlessly as his nervous tick of excessively licking his trunk began to show.
Although he had often been otherwise employed in recent times, Curi could see it in the man's eyes that he was still, in a way, military at heart. He knew the general values and doctrines that were conveyed to the soldiers of the Communal Military, both inside and out. And the idea of someone choosing death like this...it seemed to rock him to his very core.
Slowly, he turned his gaze over to Curi. His eyes were almost pleading with the cyborg, even if they seemed to already know that his next question would be asked in vain.
“Could it maybe have been the humans and their-” he began, but this time, it was Curi's term to cut him off after anticipating what was coming.
“While humans very much employ the collapsing of hyperspace as a tactic in war, the process is not invisible – or even subtle. Had the human ships caused that collapse, it would've been noticeable,” they explained succinctly. “It could've still been a mere unexpected failure of the hyperspace generation, of course. However, with the rarity of such events, the timing seems...unlikely.”
“They weren't even trying to generate a real stretch...” Reprig concurred dejectedly and left his head hanging, his trunk also sinking down limply. “I can't even imagine- Well...I hope they will at least find peace now, away from the madness.”
Curi paused for a long moment, staring at the Warrant Officer some more. Admittedly, the cyborg was a bit confounded at something. They knew for a fact the man had put his own life on the line for his orders, with a very real chance that they would lead to his death, more than just once. And yet the idea of being ordered to die seemed to disturb him. They couldn't quite figure out the difference that led to the results in reaction being so incredibly different, however it was still very clear that there was one.
And it seemed to hit the man hard.
Self-admittedly, Curi didn't exactly pity the man. They didn't quite have the capacity to. They knew about so many horrible things he had done that simply seeing him distressed was far from enough to stir such deep empathy for him within them.
Yet still, they weren't left entirely cold by it either – and if it was only because he seemed to be affected by these events in the ways a, for a lack of a better term, 'normal person' would be. He was shocked at the sudden, seemingly senseless violence, and concerned about the people involved.
Granted, it was likely only because they were people he considered worth being concerned about, yet still, the reaction was so...'normal', in a way they didn't quite expect from someone with such a capability for unceremonious acts of cruelty and violence. Even this person who had tried to kill them, or at least had been entirely comfortable with them getting killed, was capable of such a reaction.
And Curi...wasn't sure if that made things better or worse, if they were being honest.
It felt better because there was the capability for empathy there, however...it felt worse because they felt how they had been and likely still were willingly denied said empathy.
He could have cared...he just didn't want to.
Curi shook their body heavily, causing mild sounds from the engines running their legs' movements from the sudden force as they tried to shoo away emotions that they really didn't want to be feeling at that exact moment.
The thing that mostly kept them from following up on some of their uncomfortably aggressive thoughts at that moment was the fact that Mueen was still with them, the worry for his mother written across his features like a deep engraving in a metal plaque. He did not need anything like that around him right now, that much was clear.
Slowly, they moved over to him and reached up one of their long legs to run it along his arm while he still covered parts of his large face with both hands.
“She will be alright,” Curi then assured the dark-furred rafulite, switching from their usual voice box to their more “melodic” one to put on a gentle, calming tone. “She is stronger than she seems.”
Inhaling deeply as his nostrils flared, Mueen closed his dark eyes and swallowed heavily, taking his gaze off the large screen for the first time in many minutes while slowly hanging his head down.
“Yeah,” he said, seeming to force hopefulness into his tone. “Yes, she'll be fine. She made it his far. This won't get to her.”
Curi nodded with their entire body and continued to run the tip of their leg along his arm.
“She will be,” they repeated, both to the man and themselves as their own eyes moved upwards, their gaze falling back on the battlefield riddled with burning remnants of matter. “I'm sure of it.”

Never in his life had James felt so drunk and so sober at the same time. His mind was entirely clear, running a light-year a minute as it desperately tried to simultaneously process all the admittedly little information that he had in his current situation AND to not absolutely freak out while doing so somehow – a task he was ludicrously failing at. And it did NOT help that his body could barely keep itself on his own two feet.
He had avoided completely fainting by a hair earlier after reminding himself that, instead of being terrified for Shida's life, it would be much more fair towards her to simply focus on trusting in her skills to carry her through. However, that was barely a little patch on an enormous crack in his facade as he couldn't help but go over and over and over the fact of how much worse the situation that she needed to jump into here had been for her simply because it was his damn birthday and they wanted to indulge over it. He should've stopped that, but noooo, he just had to go and let himself be swayed so damn easily, as if he was still that little boy following Koko around whenever she visited the compound to try and get some attention.
Of course, a quiet voice in the back of his head tried to politely remind him that Shida had, in fact, not only taken part in the festivities as well but also encouraged him to do so, however it was easily overpowered by the screaming rest of his mind.
He briefly glanced over at the only somewhat conscious Commander. When she said that they should match each other's drinks, that should've been the moment he stopped. She was like half his weight, what the hell was he thinking?
His mechanical hand shot up, heavily gripping a fist full of hair as he tried to force himself to focus. What's done is done. There's no changing it. He should focus on anything else right now.
Though as he painfully pulled on his hair like that, his eyes suddenly went wide as he noticed something. Or, more precisely, didn't notice something.
When had the alarm stopped? Just now? Or had it been out and he just hadn't noticed?
Letting go of his hair, he lifted his face and looked around. If the alarm was over, then that meant...
The uncoordinated movement of soldiers reaching for their phones and radios with different speeds went through the room, and after brief confirmation, the uniformed forces began to move, having seemingly gotten new orders other than guarding the safe-rooms. Apparently, the threat was over.
James quickly fumbled for his own phone, his barely coordinated hands struggling extremely with the simple task of trying to call one of his contacts – much to the frustration of his already cleared mind. His finger trembled as he swiped it across the screen, trying to get it to the right damn place to make a simple god-damn call.
However, he froze in the motion at a quiet sound that was immediately followed by a sudden stir behind him as multiple people seemed to move quickly. And after just a second, James was among them as well.
Nearly tripping over his feet, he damn near threw himself onto the sickbed that didn't stand too far away from him, his phone momentarily forgotten and eyes wide open as they stared over at an endlessly familiar dark face, that however had life in it for the first time in what felt like an eternity at that moment.
Slowly and twitchy, Nia's eyes fluttered open as she let out quiet groans while mildly stirring in place while her doctors and nurses hurried around her and quickly began to take her vitals.
After flinching heavily as a flashlight was quite suddenly shone into her eyes to test her photopupillary reflex, she began to move even more. Meanwhile, James and Tuya were basically pressed shoulder to shoulder close to the foot of her bed, the only thing keeping them from dashing right up to her face being just enough awareness to not get in the doctor's way.
Still, although her movements were very slow, stiff, and groggy, Nia eventually lifted up her head, looking around with still somewhat hazy and half-closed eyes. But that didn't stop her from smiling when her gaze fell onto the two who so nervously stood at her bedside there.
“Hey,” she said in a quiet, croaky, but still very much cheerful voice as her unkempt hair fell down both sides of her face.
Though James didn't see much more than that, because just about at that moment, his vision was entirely taking away by welling-up waters sweeping him along.
submitted by Lanzen_Jars to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:47 evatao What would closure look like? My (31F) ex-best friend (32F) reached out after almost 10 years…

My best friend from elementary through high school and I had a falling out our last year of college. We went to different schools and were setting up to have very different lives, so I think we would have naturally fallen apart, but I cut her off for a few reasons:
  1. She told me what to do when my parents divorced, although I told her I wouldn’t tell her the full story because it was not mine to tell. She also pressured me into talking about the divorce (it was bad) before I was ready.
  2. I felt that she never listened to me and steamrolled over me when it came to my own opinions.
  3. I was always the one to reach out and initiate/plan our encounters, or even just to talk with her.
I told her these things, to which she got defensive and started gaslighting me, so I cut her out. I didn’t initiate contact, which naturally led to our relationship dying, and when she initiated I was receptive but did not plan or suggest planning anything.
The only negative thing I think I did was delete a comment she made on an old picture on FaceBook of us, something about wishing we were still friends, because it was public and my family asked me about it, so I got embarrassed and deleted it. I replied to her privately and told her to message me a time that worked for her so we could Skype (I was in another country at that point). She never replied. That was almost 10 years ago.
Eventually I removed her on everything — not blocked, just removed — because I didn’t want to be tempted to look her up and didn’t want her looking me up. I also removed her family, so they couldn’t contact me on her behalf (which happened once when I initially cut her out).
Now, she reached out a week after my birthday, with a follow request on Instagram. Her mom reached out to my mom (they are still friends) and said my old friend wanted to wish me a happy birthday and asked for my phone number. I told my mom not to give out my phone number, that my old friend had reached out on Instagram, and that I would talk to her through that if I wanted to, which is a message my mom passed on to the other mom.
I talked to my therapist about the whole thing, our friendship and breakup and everything, and she told me to think about what I would want for closure… I am in no hurry to answer her, so I looked up the definition of closure and did some Google research on closure, but I still don’t have an answer.
I do feel bad about how it ended, but I also don’t particularly want to rekindle friendship. I’m curious as to why she reached out at all, after all this time, as we’re vastly different people now (her Instagram is open to the public so I looked).
I plan to continue working with my therapist, but I would like to hear more opinions, and I’m not comfortable sharing all the details with my current friends, so I ask you, Reddit…
In my situation, what would you do? What would closure look like for you in this case? If you’ve been in a similar situation, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
submitted by evatao to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


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As of 2021, I have tutored and helped students enrolled at the following U.S. universities community colleges county & city colleges schools for-profit institutions listed below in alphabetical order:
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Call: +1 727 456 9641
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submitted by ryanmark234 to nursinghelp2024 [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:22 John_Smith_4724 Pay someone to take my nursing assignment online Reddit

If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
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I am very knowledgeable and proficient in assisting students in a wide range of mathematics classes. I can help students complete their homework assignments and other projects get an A on quizzes, tests, and exams (including proctored assessments) answer online discussion posts write essays & papers in MLA APA Chicago format and provide general overall academic help in each math course listed below:
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Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ATTRIBUTES THAT SET ME APART FROM OTHER TUTORS:
I CAN AID STUDENTS TAKING PROCTORED ASSESSMENTS:
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Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
I OFFER FLEXIBLE PAYMENT PLANS:
TUTORING AVAILABLE FOR OTHER SUBJECTS:
THE OBLIGATORY "IS THIS A SCAM?" QUESTION:
Considering the fact that you found my contact information online, it’s understandable to be skeptical regarding the legitimacy of my services. Therefore, I’m willing to do all of the following to help you feel more secure in trusting me with your academic needs:
MY REBUTTAL TO THE OBLIGATORY “IS THIS A SCAM?” QUESTION:
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I consider myself to be at least marginally more intelligent (both academically & socially) than the average person. Therefore, if I ever decided to suddenly risk prison time, risk my reputation, and risk enduring the wrath of modern-day “cancel culture” by scamming people out of their money:
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Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
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submitted by John_Smith_4724 to nursinghelp2024 [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:16 aita_shlongushubby AITAH for telling my (28M) wife (30F) to choose me or her sister (26F) after she went behind my back to get her sister married to my friend and illegally immigrate to the US?

I’m gonna lay out the whole context here, and it’s 2 years long so bear with me. A TL;DR isn’t really possible as there’s so much important context to whether or not IATA.
We’ve been married almost 10 years and she’s from overseas. She came here through our marriage. We were happy and doing extremely well for ourselves.
The problem started to 2 years ago. My friends wedding. Afterward we went out and then went to another friends house to continue partying. At the party one of the wedding guests started having a pity party about how he’s depressed because all these happy couples are around and he’s single.
For context. This guy is weird. He’s disrespectful to women, capitalizes on captive audiences (waitresses most often), and is overall a loser. He’s got a good job but that’s about it.
My wife, listens to his sob story and says “I have a sister!” and immediately starts FaceTiming her sister. This is something I’ve said isn’t okay. We’re not tinder, and we’re not matchmakers.
Beyond that her sister has a history of treating her poorly. She constantly told my wife she’s stupid growing up, well into adulthood. She blocked my wife for a whole year because my wife called her and told her not to go on boats with men she doesn’t know. Told my wife to live like she doesn’t have a sister. For a whole year I consoled my wife a couple times a week.
Anyways we were both drunk and with people so I’m not gonna start a fight right there. I figure I’ll talk to her about it maturely later. So I do. In the meantime, I switch to speaking Arabic with her sister and tell her this isn’t okay and isn’t what she wants.
Her and my wife to this day claim I was happy and supportive. They claim I was too drunk to remember. But there’s a few things wrong with this. I drove home, I take drinking and driving VERY seriously and would never, ever do it. In fact, if I know I’ve drank too much, I’ll hand my keys to a friend before the liquor starts hitting, just to avoid any possibility of making that bad decision.
Secondly, I switched to Arabic. I’m white. Arabic is a language I learned. When I speak it, I speak it very, very deliberately and remember the conversations perfectly. I know exactly what I said.
Anyways, when I talk to my wife later, I’m told how it’s wrong to prevent her from helping her sister and how her sister really likes this guy. A guy she talked to for 5 minutes. I told her it’s wrong to think of it as “helping” her sister in the first place and that her sister is a grown woman who can find her own partner.
So my wife says “okay I’ll tell my sister to stop talking to him”. That was the end of it. Or so I thought.
A few weeks later I’m at a different event and this guy let it slip they’re still talking. Immediately I’m upset and text my wife about how she lied to me.
She said her sister was really falling in love with this guy and separating them would be wrong. She said she did tell her sis to block him but when her sis went into a depression she told her she can unblock him and talk to him, behind my back.
Upset I told her we need to talk about going behind my back and how disrespectful of my boundaries this whole ordeal was. She said “it’s okay I’ll tell her to block him again”.
Over. Or so I thought for the next few months. A few months later I again am at an event with this guy and this time he’s smart enough to lie about them talking. But I’m a salesman and a bullshitter. You can’t bullshit me unless I trust you. I knew immediately he was lying but I let it go. I did ask my wife and she said no they’re not talking. So I believed her.
Well, a year and a half goes by. In that time her sister and her fought about how her sister could come to the US. We said we’d help her but it’s a lengthy process. At the time I had little animosity toward her sister and would’ve loved to see her come here and be near my wife again. She wasn’t happy with that and said it takes too long. This is her sister’s mindset.
Anyway. Her sister gets a B1 visa in the meantime, temporary business visitor and wants to come visit my wife. Lies through her teeth about her intentions to the immigration officer, telling them she wants to stay 90 days. They approve her for 60.
So we file for an extension ASAP so she can visit for 3 months. Staying with us the whole time. I wanted her to have fun on her visit so I arrange for my friends and I to go out. This guy shows up. She talked to him and told him our plans.
Immediately they disappear into the casino and come back holding hands and all kinds of PDA. I’m fuming because I know she’s a conniving word I won’t say here. I don’t say anything though and we go through the night and I let it go so I can have fun.
The next day he’s picking her up from my house and they’re out for the whole day. The next time my wife is off work, same story. Well, I thought you were here to visit her? And that’s where I put my foot down.
I got told it was wrong to try and control her, wrong to try and separate them, etc. etc. etc. Finally she blocks his number and he calls from a separate number. I turn off her SIM card because I’m not gonna support her going behind my back in my own home. He calls me and tells me he really loves her and just wishes I’d accept it.
I tell him very plainly I will never, ever accept it because it all stemmed from him, her, and my wife going behind my back. Primarily my wife, as she’s the only one of the three I should be able to trust is telling me the truth.
At this point, I feel as if my wife had an emotional affair, although it’s with her own family. She repeatedly chose to go behind my back, against a boundary I had told her repeatedly before this situation at my friend’s wedding after party ever transpired. If that’s not an emotional affair, I don’t know what is.
So I tell him bluntly to not call me anymore and I’m not going to change my stance, and his feelings don’t mean shit to me. He started to give me a sob story about how we’re friends and he I should be happy for him and I cut him off and told him to save his breath.
My wife is upset at me for how I talked to him. Another emotional affair. Trying to protect the feelings of this dude.
The next day, while my wife is at work I’m eating lunch at our dinner table and studying schoolwork her sister comes to the table and starts talking to me about this guy asking if I talked to him and I tell her plainly I did and what I told him.
She goes into a story about how she really loves him, she’s an adult woman and I shouldn’t be intervening etc. I told her I agree I shouldn’t ever have been involved and neither should my wife. I told her to save her breath with any talk of her feelings because I don’t care. She started crying telling me I’m cruel etc.
I told her at this point I’m done being nice. I’ve been lied to for 2 years and it’s over. I’m done being my laid back self and I’ve been pushed repeatedly and I’m standing up for my marriage and my boundaries.
I did turn her SIM card back on so she could call my wife and I, her hosts.
The next morning I wake up to my wife in tears calling me to her sisters room. Her sister is bawling her eyes out and packing her bags to go home. I talk her sister into coming for a car ride with my wife and I to talk things out.
Immediately in the car my wife starts berating her sister about how she’s selling her for a man and a whole host of other things. I calm my wife down and tell her that’s not okay to say to her sister. Because against what they thought I don’t want and would’ve never wanted this to cause a separation between them. I know how much my wife values family.
In the car her sister tells me she really loves this guy and that she can see them being a family one day etc. etc. etc. I tell her plainly don’t ever bring him around my house, if they do marry and have kids, don’t ever bring them around my house, and don’t consider me her brother in law because I will never do anything for her again after she goes home.
My wife is shocked, she’s shocked and they both wonder how I could be so cruel. I said I’m over it. I’m over hearing about this guy, I’m over being used, and I will never again trust her. She said she understands and resumes talking to this guy.
A few days later we’re in the car going to a family event with my family and I get asked if he can come. I said no, very politely. I said no, he’s not part of my family. I was told how terrible I am, and my wife and her sister both jump out of my car in a bad part of Chicago, an area neither of them know.
My wife calls my family and tells them I kicked them out of the car. So my family starts blowing up my phone screaming at me. Once I explained the situation my family said they’ll come pick them up but I hung around and kept driving by to make sure they were okay. Eventually my wife calls me and says they’ll get in.
So I pull over and they open the doors and my wife goes “I’m scared I don’t feel comfortable getting in the car with you”. So I drive away pissed off. This is a 85,000 car in a bad part of the city where carjackings happen every other day.
I go park somewhere but keep an eye on them to make sure they stay safe. A homeless guy passed them and my wife calls me to come get her. So I do and we go home.
Again her sister packs her shit and cries that she’s going home. I tell her to relax, sleep on it and we’ll talk in the morning. She does eventually and in the morning she decides she’ll stay.
A week goes by and I hear nothing about this guy from her. My friends and I all joked about him and made light fun of him. He caught wind of it and cried to my wife’s sister who told my wife, who came to me and aggressively told me to stop and leave them both alone. I got pissed off because this was a private convo between me and my friends and if he heard it and got his feelings hurt it’s on him.
This spiraled into a huge argument with me, my wife, and her sister. In the argument I asked her sister plainly if she planned to leave at the 90 day mark. She said no.
So I kicked her out of our house. Her and my wife went for a walk and I yelled out the front door to get her shit to the curb before the walk before I do, because if she doesn’t do it herself it’ll be thrown on the wet ground. They both thought I was joking before then I assume. Her sister comes in and packs her stuff and gets out. I said if you plan on staying here illegally it won’t be in my house. If the choose is between here or the streets, it’ll be the streets.
She went to stay with the boyfriend and his parents. His parents must not have liked her too much because within a couple weeks they made them both move out.
This was in January of this year.
Since then, I’ve been repeatedly goaded into accepting this. My wife has tried to get me to visit her sister, etc.
It came to a head recently at a wedding we went to for another friend. Her sister and this guy were there. I didn’t say a word to either one the entire night and all was fine.
Except my wife spent the whole night at their table because he wouldn’t dance or do anything to have fun. She can’t handle the idea that her sister might find something she doesn’t like about this guy. She has to be there just in case the relationship goes on life support.
This pisses me off, obviously. She’s more invested in their relationship than she’s been in ours for the past 2 years. Grown adults.
Well, today she was going to her sisters house. She had 2 bags. An ulta bag and a discovery bag. I asked what that is, and she said it’s for her sister. She pulled out taco shells and said it’s just small stuff she wants her to try. But I could see through the bag and saw beauty products. I’m not an idiot.
I looked in when she went to the bathroom and saw a fucking armoire full of shit. I looked at the receipt. $300. I was fucking livid.
I continued getting ready for work and said “her husband can’t buy her that?”. It’s confrontational, yes. But I said it politely, and was open to talking about it.
I get met with immediately hostility. I never raised my voice but I made it very clear I wasn’t being nice about this or anything anymore.
I told her “maybe she could pay you back and find you a new husband”. I’m going to give her a choice. Me or her sister now. Because this has gotten fucking ridiculous.
We pay for her to come here. She hired an immigration lawyer apparently, but doesn’t have money to pay me back for the flight or even pay for the Ubers they take or anything. My wife is trying to make up for this losers shortcomings. He’s too much of an idiot to see that her sister is using him.
By the way, this isn’t her first fiance. It’s not even her first western fiance. She’s been engaged to at least 3 different guys. One from France, another from Belgium, and a third from Canada before this guy. She was looking to immigrate. He’s a fucking idiot though so, oh well.
My wife’s sister is very materialistic. My wife is fortunately down to earth but is so far up her sisters ass because she thinks if she doesn’t do everything her sister wants that her sister will cut her from her life again. Which is exactly what would happen.
I told her that’s on her sister. I’m not asking her to never talk to her sister. I’m asking her to stop treating her sister like she’s a child and putting their relationship before ours. Stop bending over backwards for a grown woman who will throw you away the moment you’re inconvenient.
But it’ll never happen it seems and it’s the reason I’m strongly considering divorcing her. I’m over this fucking shit. Oh, and by the way, my wife claims that she’s scared of me etc. now when she tells the story to other people.
I have never and would never hit my wife. I’ve never given her any reason to be afraid of me. So to put that out there on me is absolutely fucking bullshit and I’ve lost all trust in her.
AITAH?
submitted by aita_shlongushubby to AITAH [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:08 rickrockster Roger Bacon - Prologue

Olá! It's me! I'm Rickle Pick! Hello everyone!
So, I’ve been listening to some stories about Neckbeards and Kevins, as well as some Legbeards and Kevinas (Is that the correct term??). Well, most of the times I listen to those stories, I am reminded of some people I used to deal with in school. Specifically, this time, the tale of a guy, who I’ll name Roger Bacon for reasons soon to be explained. Sorry for any grammar errors, eu falo português! I also don't really know the posting rules here, so I'll just post it and see how it goes lol
This prologue is more of a compilation of stories that I think is needed before we get to the main shenanigans and awkward situations this guy put himself AND me into. If this generates any interest, I will post more specific tales of this weirdo! Long time lurker, first time poster, english is definitely not my first language and the whole shebang. I also never wrote a text this large, so go easy on me!
THE LIST:
Well, I guess it’s usual to make a list of people that appear in those stories, so I’ll make one just for you!
Me: Your basic musician-type nerdy theater kid white guy! Tall, thin with medium-light brown hair. At the time, I usually wore a leather jacket and sometimes a hat (not a fedora, a Chaplin hat. Also, where I live, hats are an acceptable attire choice lol). I kinda looked like the Once-ler from Lorax. At this time, I had just failed my second year of high school because of… honestly just lack of effort, mixed with undiagnosed ADHD and a bit of lacking in the ol’ confidence and self-respect department. At the time, I also was physically incapable of saying no and had a crippling fear of disappointing people.
Roger Bacon: 168 centimeters (or 5,5ft for the uncivilized) of pure muscle! Or at least he thought it was that way. In reality, he did have some muscles but was kinda chubby and flaccid. Not FAT fat, but athletic fat (???). He was mixed, light skinned, had shaved short curly hair, no beard (except for the inside beard) and his face was a special kind of oval, besides having a, "chiseled jaw". He always smelled like he had just gotten out of a day-long brawl with a french cologne wearing burrito. He wasn't an usual neckbeard, but he was a huge attention whore. Thought too much of himself, as we say here in Brazil: “Promised too much, delivered nothing at all.” His moto was: “Dude, I think she’s into me!”
For now, these are the characters, as the focus is to introduce you all to Roger Bacon as a person.
With the list over, let us get to the story.
FEBUARY 2018:
The year of 2018 started pretty badly for me. I had just been held back from 10th grade, had no friends and didn’t really know anyone. As most people know, high school in Brazil is quite different from America, as we start school in febuary and we share the same class with the same people all day, excluding language classes and extra-curriculum activities. This meant that, for the foreseeable future, I was alone. On the first day of school, I shyly sat on the last desk on the far right corner of the room, as I scanned my classroom to see what I was dealing with. A few groups of people sitting together, talking and greeting their friends, some loners reading or playing on their phones. The artsy girl drawing a beauriful woman on the white board. Some guy drawing a penis right beside her. Perfect balance. A normal classroom.
Another difference between our school systems is that we don’t really have clicks based on like Jocks or Nerds or Pretty Girls, it’s mostly people who connected in childhood or matched personalities, instead of connecting through roles and interests within the school. Not saying either one is better, just different. And yeah, the bullying situation is just as bad. I was bullied for my whole middle school and through first year of high school, and made a very specific group of low profile friends. So when I failed sophomore year I thought to myself “Screw it, if I’m going to be held back, that’s at least a second chance for me to grow an acceptable social life.”
All this elucidates how intimidating it could be for someone to join a new classroom full of mostly new faces. If you were unable to make a friend, you’d pretty much be on your own for the whole year unless an already formed group “adopted” you. So my mindset was to at least try and meet new people.
Well, have you ever said “I’m gonna do this thing I’ve never done before!” And got the worst possible circunstance you could get at the very first attempt? Welp, that’s just what happened. My strategy was to start small, and go talk to only one person at first, and then try to interact with a few of the groups as that was a bit intimidating (fun fact: we call “clicks “panelinhas”, spelled “pah-neh-lin-ias”, wich means “little pans”, because, you know, they’re closed groups, like a closed… pan. Idk, anyway), so I went up to this guy in front of me, and that guy was Roger Bacon.
He was almost lying on his chair, on a cool guy pose while messing around on his phone. He was also wearing a black sports tank top with a grey opened sweatshirt and the standard uniform wine-red shorts that were mandatory in our school, which made him look like a short and jelly version of Rocky balboa mixed with Kick Buttowski.
In real life, my name and his started with sequential letters, and because of this, we would sit near each other for the whole year, so I guessed he’d be the best person to interact with. I also KINDA knew him because we had basketball training after class in like 2015 and I went to the same church as him, in which I befriended his brother, Kevin, slightly, but didn’t have much contact with him because he had already graduated (I have some stories about basketball and church so tell me if yall wanna read them lol). I approached and gestured for him to take of his headphones (They were extremely loud, so I could recognize he was listening to the song In The End by Linkin Park).
Me: Hey! Aren’t you Roger? You’re Kevin’s brother, right?
RB, trying to sound stoic: “Oh, hey Rick. Yeah, it’s me… fortunately for you.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
RB explained: “Well, I’m the cool brother! Kevin was lame, and also had no friends.”
Me: “Isn’t he in a band with [insert band members]? They seem to be his friends…
RB: “They might look nice, but they’re all assholes. Don’t let them fool you! I’m the nice brother, Kevin is a dipshit.
To elucidate you: that band he said was made of assholes was the Worship band of the church we went to. It was also the worship band that I occasionally played the piano with.
I said, jokingly: “Guess I’m an asshole then! Because, ya know, I play with them more often than not”
RB: “No man, it’s just them. They’re just so infuriating! They never let me participate!”
Me: “Wow, that’s weird… I mean, I didn’t know you were a musician too! What instrument do you play?”
RB: “I play the drums, piano, guitar, bass and I also sing. But Kevin keeps me out because he wants to be the 'star brother'!”
I could tell he got a little heated, and went silent for a little while. I decided not to mention the band or his brother in his presence, 'cause ya know, that was pretty awkward lol.
I remember thinking to myself “This guy’s kinda weird”, because his brother was one of the nicest people I had ever known, and he also didn’t have the say on who played on the band, the worship leader did. I thought about confronting Roger with this, but I didn’t want to abandon my quest of finding a friend. And also, he seemed chill at first, if not a little insecure.
I was a little uncomfortable with this line of conversation, so I opted to change the subject. We talked a bit more about me having been held back, and he went on about how he was really good at math and chemistry, and how he could help me with my school stuff.
I was glad to have someone to help me, and even more, someone who apparently liked the stuff I liked. I remembered what he was listening to, so I commented on it and asked which song was his favorite, and we talked about Linkin Park for a bit. He said “In The End” was his favorite song, and then I mentioned I was a huge Linkin Park fan. He told me he was a big fan as well, but as we talked about it, it became a bit fishy. He never specifically said anything and just kinda repeated what I said. It became clear after a while that “In The End” was, in fact, virtually the only song he knew from that band.
That was the first time I noticed something strange, but only in hindsight, as at the time I just thought he really wanted to make a human connection. I remember thinking he was just excited to know someone who was open to talking to him, so I didn’t think anything of it.
Also, not everyone memorizes this stuff, and maybe he did only remember one song, for whatever reason, so I let that pass. I only felt necessary to include this information because it was, at least in some way, the first lie that Roger told me, a little sample, if you will, of what’s to come.
After we talked for a while, mostly catching up on our lives, the bell rung and our first actual class had begun, and I had the first-hand experience of this guy’s sense of humor. The teacher walked into the classroom and introduced himself as the new Geography teacher, and started a power point presentation about some of the subjects we’d be covering that year, saying “Please pay attention to this class, as you’ll need to know how our schedule will work”. Roger looked back and said “Huh, I guess this class is useless for you then, being held back and all, hahah”, which made everyone look at me and just kinda stare like I should say something, and he kept repeating the joke to anyone that showed any reaction besides just staring, adding “Amirite? Huh? Amirite?”.
I was kinda salty about this, but my people pleasing peapod brain couldn’t handle letting it show, so I just laughed and said nothing. I guessed it was a poorly thought out joke at first, but then Roger proceeded to make the same comment on every single one of the opening classes we had for both of the introductory days. There were 12 of them. He did it every time. Every. Single. Time. Sometimes he repeated it even louder, as if he didn’t think people heard it, because no-one was laughing.
“Ok”, I said to myself, “He didn’t mean to make fun of me, he’s just a little overexcited and probably is trying to make a connection and help me get acquainted to our classmates.”
Either way, I was very uncomfortable and annoyed.
Thankfully, this came to a halt when he was practically thrown out of the Literature class for interrupting the teacher mid-sentence while she talked about how important the first month of class would be for our comprehension of the whole subject. He made the joke four times. FOUR TIMES. I was beginning to think that I made a mistake, but well, the mistake was already made, at least I can try and understand him a bit, before judging.
The rest of the week went by and he didn’t get any better, but I got kinda used to it. In fact, I actually enjoyed having conversations with him at recess, when we could talk a bit more freely. And, as all things in life tend to do, it got weirder. Weirder in the sense that as we spoke more and more, I noticed a bit of a concerning pattern: every time I shared an experience I had, he’d share a cooler and more awesome almost equal experience back.
Some light examples:
I told him I went hiking for 2-3 kilometers on a trail by the beach. Then he smirked and said he went hiking for “at least 7 kilometers on a deserted beach that only his father’s company’s employees had access to and he saw a Gorilla. There are no gorillas in Brazil. Maybe in zoos, I guess, but definitely no gorillas.
I told him I was kinda sad because I had just ended a “thing” with a girl from my old grade. He “proudly” said he’s been dumped by his ex, Laura, after they dated for 11 months and made out aaaallll the time after school, and he even saw her “lady parts” once!”.
And then he went on to describe that shit for like 3 straight classes, adding more and more to the story every chance he had to speak, providing me with my daily dose of cringe in tiny bits of uncomfortable information at a time! Like a sporadic cringe snack! Sninge! Crack? Probably Crack.
ANYWAYS
There was also the time I told him the story of how I became best friends with a guy because we got into a fight in P.E.. We were arguing about some nonsense and he wanted to fight, so after he socked me on my stomach, I cheaply kicked him in the face so hard I almost sprained my ankle and then we started laughing (because I guess sometimes that’s all it takes). Phillip is my best friend for almost 10 years now.
Roger puffed up his soap dish chest went on for at least 2 classes worth of time about how he “beat up his last bully and broke both of his arms, and almost went to prison, but his dad is a lawyer and bailed him out”. Dude was 16, and I don’t think he’d need to be bailed out, but okay… He was, in fact, very badass.
Those are all approximations of actual stories he told me, because my ADHD memory is shit, but you get the gist of it.
My days were filled with endless stories filled with absolute bullshit, like a Gary Stu from a dying rpg campaign. (I have a story about a DnD game he participated in, but that’s for another time!)
Roger, not content with lying to me about anecdotal facts about his past that could be true but were almost certainly mostly bullshit (if not entirely), had a tendency to just negate reality when presented with facts in certain situations.
And example of this situation is the time we were doing a group assignment and a girl at least 3 meters in front of him dropped her pencil and he just kinda threw himself on the ground, picked it up and said “Here you go, Lana!”. She said “Thanks Roger!”, barely turning around and carried on with the assignment. Roger, then, turned to me with a sleek shit feasting smirk on his face and said:
RB: “Dude, do you think she’s into me??”
I contained a ridiculing laughter just in time to realize he was dead serious.
I said “I don’t know man… Doesn’t seem like it to me, but sure I guess.”
RB then straight up asked ME to go talk to her and get HIM her number. When I asked why shouldn’t he do it, he said it was “the wingman’s job to get the number of the girl” so that he wouldn’t “look weak for asking”
I said I’d do it, cause I genuinely wanted to see if he was right about her liking him (I hadn’t really understood the dynamics of the classroom, so I actually had no idea if he was actually right, just a gut feeling that yeah, he probably wasn’t).
I went up to her and asked for her number, explaining it was Roger who was interested in her and, as I pulled out my raging 2014’s Sony XPeria, I was swiftly interrupted by her delicately saying “Sorry! I have a boyfriend.” (She said the boyfriend part out loud, and stared at Roger)
I said “Oh, ok, sorry to bother ya!” and, as I was starting to walk back, I noticed that she turned back and glared at Roger. Later that day her boyfriend texted him, telling him that “He’s got to stop asking her out, and next time, if he wants to get rejected, he should come do it himself” He called him a moron. And then they both blocked him.
Well, that was embarrassing.
Despite having been turned down (for the 6th time now, I’d come to find out), Roger still maintained that she was “totally into him”, and it wasn’t just Lana. Any time he had even the smallest interaction with any girl, he’d say that they’re “probably into him”, or that “they made out at a party, but she was drunk and probably won’t remember”, or that they “sent him nudes last year but he’s already deleted them because he’s a good person, with morals”.
This went on for a while and, after about a month, Roger begun to dial down the crazy stories about how he’s a “badass and he gets all the girls but he’s single because he’s too good for them”. Until I started seeing a girl from another church I started going to. I met Janice () at the churches youth group, and we talked the whole time afterwards about lots of stuff. This name’s given because of her insanely similar laughter and demeanor of Janice from Friends. We clicked well and I was very interested in her, but my ADHD ass forgot to get her number, and remembered it only when she had already left.
When I told Roger, he laughed and said “I had just cockblocked myself” and that I’d “probably missed my only chance of banging a girl ever”. I was bummed, but clarified I didn’t really want to have sex before marriage or at least before making an emotional connection (I had just then begun to go to church, so I didn’t really get the rules, so it was more of a personal choice I always had in mind when thinking about dating. Also I met her at church so wtf).
He said “that was dumb” and, “even though he was a virgin, he’d dance the Devil’s Tango with the first chick he had the chance to”
“What about Laura?”, I asked. His face went from a confident smirk to an almost sad expression, and he blankly replied: “She didn’t want to, but I tried anyway at times. I even got a blowie once!” I let it go because I was very tired, as Mondays are hell on earth.
A few classes later, I went up to him and reminded him of our conversation and asked:
I said “Ooookay, but what about all those girls you told me were all over you? Didn’t they want to have some bum bum times with you??”
He was taken by surprise by this, and was visibly trying so hard to think of an answer for at least 15 seconds. He mumbled “Well…”, and like just left. Like he got up in the middle of the class, and walked away. Well that was weird!
He got back and I didn’t pry, thinking he had some kind of trauma, and I tried to change the subject.
I say “tried” because instead we were suddenly interrupted by a girl asking me if I was Rick. I didn’t know her or how she had materialized beside our desks, but later I found out that that girl’s name was Mary. She had blue eyes and was smiling mischievously, and I answered “Yup, that’s me”. She then giggled and said that “Anna wanted to make out with me after class”. Me and Roger were both very much taken aback by this, and I immediately thought to myself that this could only be some type of dare or prank (which it probably was), and was about to try and respond with the first witty joke that popped up in my monkey brain when, without missing a beat, Roger said “Rick’s already seeing someone!”. Mary was visibly surprised and said “Oh, you have a girlfriend??” with a look of disbelief on her face. Ouch. I explained that I wouldn’t say I do, I just liked a girl from church and we’re going to see a movie with some friends on Saturday, and that either way it was a pass on the making out sesh! Mary said “Oh, okay!” and started to walk back to her desk. I was about to make a joke and say that Anna could probably do better than me, when Roger interjected:
RB: “I’d like a making out sesh if she’s interested!”
Mary looked back with a visible “Lol, ew no” expression and just said: “I’m sure you would, Roger!”, turned away and sat down, laughing with her friends when she got to her desk.
Roger turned to me and said:
RB: “Dude, do you think she’s into me?”
This cycle repeated once in a while, so I’m not gonna tell you all of the situations that I felt like shaking him and trying to wake him up like Woody does to Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story. Exhausting, right?
Another thing Roger tended to brag about was that he did Martial Arts. Specifically, Kung Fu (Wushu). I would come to find out that, in the year before, he made a big scene to tell everyone in class that he’d just started Kung-Fu classes and, when no-one payed attention, he started a habit of punching the wall beside his desk, audibly making “hmpft” noises. When anyone asked why, he’d say he was training, and that his Sensei (Not shifu, he actually said sensei) had asked him to do that to strengthen his fists so he could harness all the strength he had, so one day he could put a hole through a wall with his fists.
He would also punch the school’s fireproof doors because, if you didn’t know, they dent pretty easily, and he would show me and tell me to bask at his strength and ability. That until I said I’d give it a try. He told me not to, because “I wasn’t trained” and “it could really hurt my hand”. I punched the door. It made a dent.
Roger said it was beginners luck and that he’s just a good teacher. I told him I really didn’t even make an effort to pay attention, the metal was just bendy and soft. Roger never talked about it again, and started only punching walls. For that, he would feel superior because, yeah I ain’t doing that. There were consequences for his wall punching habits, but I’ll address that some other time.
The last thing I’ll say about him for now is how clueless Roger was, how much he thought of himself and how he treated everyone else like they should (and would) respecting for what he told them, and not for what he showed them.
(I plan on doing another part eventually, with the story of how his disconnection with reality, lies, schemes and generally narcissist behavior eventually exploded back into his face.)
As a last bit of exposition of our circumstances, there’s an important part of our school life that fueled Roger’s social life’s demise.
Pranking was a big part of my class’ culture. There were also some people in my classroom who were bullied. The thing is: the bullies actually made fun of literally everyone else, which made it very hard to figure out if you were considered a target or just a colleague. They’d mess with people’s stuff, tie backpacks to the windows and hide pencil cases, but they would also do it to their own group.
Essentially, the only way to differentiate those who they considered normal schoolmates from those who were bullied was the frequency of the pranks and their demeanor in general towards those people. They would apologize for the pranks, ask to make up for it, buy you lunch, make jokes, try to laugh with you. I swear some of those guys were politicians in the making. Luckily, was very good friends with one of the guys in that group, I’ll call him Turkey, who was also held back a few years before me, and he liked my sister, so I was mostly safe.
Roger, on the other hand, THOUGHT he was one of the pranksters. Every time someone pranked him or anyone else, he would laugh knowingly, like he was in on the joke the whole time, and try to make jokes, only to further humiliate himself. And they would capitalize on that as hard as they could.
You see, Roger liked to portray himself as the “Mysterious-Badass-Quiet-Protagonist-Take-No-Shit-From-Anyone-Mr.-Steal-Yo-Girl” guy. This combo of personality substitutes was the recipe for the downfall of his popularity, and the start of the longest lasting pranks I’ve ever seen in my life, which will come if yall want another post. That prank is also the reason I named him Roger Bacon.
Because he was so into Math and Science (and into himself too lol) he also always wanted to look like the smartest guy in the room. The problem is that, as our first semester went by, it became clear that he wasn’t as good as he hyped himself up to be. Shocker, right? This was proven to be true when we were doing a chemistry group test, and I was paired with him and Anna, and we needed to calculate some entropies or whatever. He made a point of telling us to do all of the “easy ones”, and he would take on the more complicated questions.
The thing is, he was trying really hard to look like a genius, to maybe impress Anna, so every time he made a calculation, he would roll his eyes up and kinda vibrate a little. I guess he wanted to look like a genius mathematics robot, but instead he looked like he was trying to imitate an autistic person having a small stroke. I didn’t mind the Good Doctor amateur impersonation, because at least it looked like he knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, it really just looked like he knew what he was doing.
Each easy question of the test was worth 1 point, and there were 4 of them, and there were 3 hard questions worth 2 points each. We got a 4/10 on that test, and lo and behold, the only questions we got right were the ones me and Anna worked on. We were a bit pissed, not gonna lie.
Until the last time we spoke, Roger still blames Anna for his complete failure at this test for, in his words, distracting him because she was obviously into him.
But that’s just Roger, I guess!
I've got A LOT of stories about Roger and other neckbeards I've encountered, and I can't wait to tell them!
Until then, thanks for reading, and have a good one yall!
submitted by rickrockster to ReddXReads [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 22:55 MercuryMewMew [Request] [Steam] Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth

Hello GoG,
I would like to take this opportunity to request Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth! at -30% off.
If there are 3 things the Yakuza/Like a Dragon developers know how to do:
  • 1) It's how to make a compelling narrative.
  • 2) Make an astonishing amount of mini-games and silly side-content.
  • 3) Somehow manage to refine their combat system even further.
Of course, I did have a fantastic time with Yakuza 0 a few years back. I grew to love the Kamurocho district. It's a densely packed and pleasantly detailed location. So, Hawaii will be an entirely new experience.
Having experience with Yakuza 0 and watching multiple playthroughs of Like a Dragon, you can easily tell there is a tremendous amount of heart and care put into these titles. It did take a little bit to adjust to Ichiban as the new protagonist going forward, but with the change in story direction, the new turn-based combat style and even the location, I found the Like a Dragon series to be heading in a very promising direction.
This time we're going to Hawaii! Expanding to a much larger map and having a plethora of new and old mini-games that we all love and adore. There's blackjack, card games, mahjong, uber eats delivery service (?), sujimon manager simulator, (Totally not Pokemon with real people, I swear.) dating adventures, photography, a whole island management game that is basically Animal Crossing. I haven't even scratched the surface, there is a tremendous amount of content and I don't think the human body can sustain that much sensory stimulation. That's a good thing. Like a Dragon is a marathon, not a sprint, and it is meant to be enjoyed.
Ichiban is a delightful new protagonist and serves as a great foil to Kiryu. They have their common ground, but their personalities create room for interesting interactions with other characters. I'm very fond of Ichiban's sincerity and passion. He is the heart of the party, I love him!
I know Kiryu is the face of the Yakuza series, but passing the torch to Ichiban in Like a Dragon opened up so much more room to experiment with different character archetypes. Like a Dragon took a different approach to the beat-em-up combat in favor of a surprisingly good turn-based combat system that still feels visceral and interesting. It's also a visual treat since everything is so well-animated while also being hilarious and brutal, depending on your actions.
I very much appreciate having an older cast of characters for the main party. It's a nice break to have characters who have a solid grasp on their own identity while grappling with deep-seated flaws from their sheer life experience.
The entire Ichiban crew is odd and interesting. Saeko is a particular favorite of mine. (Don't mess with the bartender.)
The "job" system is great for combat and comedy, and I'm really curious about the direction of the plot. The Yakuza/Like a Dragon series always managed to balance the line between serious, interpersonal crime drama and the absurd shenanigans in the side quests. It's a great palette cleanser if you're in the mood for drama, heartfelt side stories, or silly antics.
I really hope they kept the "summoning" system in the sequel because it equates to you phoning up a friend to call them into battle. It seems like they did! Because I miss that crawfish, Nancy, she's great.
The characters in the party really make up the heart of the story. I can't think of a single character that I didn't like in Like a Dragon. So, I'm really curious to see any new additions and how everyone interacts with one another.
I mean, the established crew is delightful:
  • Ichiban is NUMBER ONE! No, seriously, it's in his name. Our delusional protagonist with the biggest heart is the most versatile character. Sure, everyone in the party can have their jobs changed, but it feels fitting that Ichiban can fulfill any role as he discovers more about himself in his personal journey. Or, at least, that's my interpretation.
  • Nanba is your cynical homeless best friend who can wield the power of pigeons. He's basically the healer or wizard of the party.
  • Adachi is the voice of reason. Your connection to reality and the gruff dad of the team. He fulfills the role of the tank by getting way too hands-on with his riot gear.
  • Saeko (MY FAVORITE!) is the no-nonsense, sane person who happens to be a heavy-drinker. (Around this group, can you blame her?) She gets annoyed easily, but she's probably the most "normal" individual here. She's the debuffer by being an excellent barmaid in combat, or she makes a great healer with the power of...cheer and motivation...through the Idol job?
  • Joongi Han. Well, I can't say too much about him. But he's cool and the assassin of the party.
  • Zhao is a mysterious one. Principled, but a schemer. I'd say he would be the fighter of the party.
  • Eri! Our special secret party member. She's an office lady who uses office supplies like a ninja. No, seriously, she'll strangle you with a lanyard, use thumbtacks as floor spikes, or she can cloak herself by stomping on a bag of flour to create a smokescreen. It's ridiculous, she's great!
Like a Dragon had a great soundtrack and a fantastic performance from the cast, both motion capture and vocal work. I was certainly invested, and I'm definitely curious to see where Infinite Wealth goes!
In terms of content, it's enormous, which is a delight in a single-player game. So, you certainly won't be wasting your time if you want to get invested in that world.
I'm really curious to see where it goes from here. So much happened in the prior game to establish the origins of the new cast and introduce their own development over the course of the game. So, I'm very interested to see how they develop and grow from this point forward.
As you can tell, I'm very much in it for the narrative. As serious, thrilling and silly as it can be.
It really is the complete package.
Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth
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submitted by MercuryMewMew to GiftofGames [link] [comments]


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