My game has started to randomly crash after some time for unknow reasons, despite all the fixes, always puking out the same error code "Exit code -1073741819" or "1", but the first code happens the most often. I tried on my pc or my mod pack. When the game crashes, the game freezes, screen blacks out and it triggers a driver timeout to my amd gpu. I tried so many things, it always end up crashing, and the worst is that I don't know the reason for it yet, and that it wasn't doing that before. These crashes happen completely randomly, it can happen as soon as i join my world, or minutes later when playing. Roaming around seems to be needed to trigger the crash

my modpack includes:
Version 1.19.2
25 chunks render distance
-Forge 43.3.0
-Optifine HD U I2 Forge 43.2.14 (wrong forge version for optifine isn't the cause, i already tested it)
-Using Complementary Reimagined shader
-[Alex's Mobs]()
-[AppleSkin]()
-[Armor Status HUD Renewed]()
-[AutoRegLib]()
-[Better Days]()
-[Better Foliage Renewed]()
-[Better Fps - Render Distance[Forge]]()
-[Biomes O' Plenty]()
-[BobLib]()
-[Carry On]()
-[Citadel]()
-[Cloth Config API (Fabric/Forge/NeoForge)]()
-[Clumps]()
-[Create]()
-[Cupboard]()
-[Curios API (Forge/NeoForge)]()
-[Dungeon Crawl]()
-[Dynamic Surroundings Resurrected]()
-[Entity Collision FPS Fix]()
-[Entity Culling Fabric/Forge]()
-[Game Menu Mod Option [Forge]]()
-[GraveStone Mod]()
-[Iron Chests]()
-[Jade 🔍]()
-[Just Enough Items (JEI)]()
-[LibX]()
-[MoreVanillaArmor]()
-[MoreVanillaLib]()-
-[MoreVanillaTools]()
-[MrCrayfish's Furniture Mod]()
-[Ores Above Diamonds]()
-[Quark]()
-[Shutup Experimental Settings!]()
-[SimpleCore API]()
-[SimpleOres]()
-[TerraBlender (Forge)]()
-[Terralith]()
-[Traveler's Titles (Forge)]()
-[WorldEdit]()
-[Xaero's Minimap]()
-[Xaero's World Map]()
-[XP Tome]()
-[YUNG's API (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better Desert Temples (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better Dungeons (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better End Island (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better Jungle Temples (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better Mineshafts (Forge)]()-
-[YUNG's Better Nether Fortresses (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better Ocean Monuments (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better Strongholds (Forge)]()
-[YUNG's Better Witch Huts (Forge)]()

I tried to:
-reinstall my gpu driver, with DDU, 2 times already
-rebuilding my modpack from zero
-swapping my ram with a different kit
-tried to see if overclocking or not makes a difference (it didn't)
-tried various jvm arguments, with or without
-Reinstalled java
-tried Memtest
-pressed the button "Repair Profile" on the forge loader
-Optimized my worlds
-checking for system errors on my storage devices, defragmented them and made disk cleanup
-On Cmd tried "dism /online /cleanup-image /restorehealth" and "sfc /scannow"
And all of these haven't made a difference.

My pc specs:
-i7 13700kf
-Rx 7900 XTX
-32gb Corsair Vengeance DDR5 5600 CMK32GX5M2B5600C36
-Asrock Z690 Steel Legend D5 mb
-Corsair Rm1000x psu (1000w psu)

I did stress my ram, cpu, gpu to detect any instability or trigger any crashes or bsod, but with vain, my system health isn't a concern in this context.
Note that i haven't made any change to the modpack or my pc to result in these sorts of crashes, since I've been playing my game with all these mods with no problem for months. All out of nowhere, the game started to crash just like that
I need help from someone, anyone, to help me find a solution, because unlike any other problems I had to troubleshoot, this one in particular is seriously hard to deal with, like a disgusting cancer that always comes back when you think you cured it. I hate it. I can't even play the game anymore without the constant fear of the game crashing and corrupting my world.

Hi! This is going to be a long one/rant and story because I really don’t know who to talk to about this in real life because I’m not in therapy and I’m so embarrassed to be feeling this way knowing I made all the choices to be here and people are already flying in from out of state to come to our wedding. Also I’m diagnosed adhd incase any of yall are wondering what’s wrong with me once I tell you all the decisions I made to get here. I am getting married in three months and have a son who is 15 months old. My now fiance 28m and I 27f met whenever we were thirteen years old in middle school and started a tumultuous up and down / on and off again relationship. We were together all the way up until junior year in high school and we broke up. I come from a broken home and he does not. Looking back I realize how much of me staying with him and trying to keep his attention stemmed from my abandonment issues that I must have had from my own parents. After we broke up he joined a gang in my local hometown and I was still in love with him so I decided to still be involved with him even though I was not in a relationship with him. I ended up losing my virginity to him while we were not together just because I wanted to be with him and we said we were friends with benefits but really I was just in love with him and thought by doing that maybe he would want to be with me again but he didn’t and continued to sleep with other girls and do drugs. I also started doing drugs like Xanax and smoking to fit in with him and be cool. I ended up getting a horrible tattoo because one of the other girls he was also seeing had a bunch of tattoos. I dropped out of my high school college courses and ended up going to jail for marijuana in high school and got kicked out of cheer and softball. I ended up on probation and having to be drug tested for a year. Within that year after being heart broken and realizing nothing I did would make him change into who he was before he got involved in our local gang or make him want to be with me… I ended up enrolling in college and getting accepted to a university where I would move about two hours away from our home town to live on campus and study to be a nurse. While on probation, so I couldn’t really party or anything in college which was good (even though I was never really addicted to anything and it wouldn’t be that hard for me) I wanted to save money for a car so I ended up getting a job at the hooters next to my college and was in college full time and working at hooters. My sister happened to go to that same college before I did and live in that town with her ex bf and they would give me rides to and from work back to campus. Low and behold after about two semesters of me being in college and finally feeling like I was moving on from him, he came back messaging me and telling me he missed me and wanted to be with me again. I was stupid and so excited that I agreed and asked him to come see me at college where he would stay for the weekend and we would have an amazing time. I felt so good about myself doing what I was doing and being able to show my growth. Despite all that he was still able to convince me to leave school and come back to be with him and live with him and go to the college near our hometown and work at the hooters near our hometown. I had already felt like I didn’t want to be a nurse at the time because my sister who was a nurse told me you could never leave the state as a nurse if you get your license there (which she didn’t know at the time that you could) and I knew I didn’t want to stay where I was from and wanted to eventually travel. So I decided to leave and move back with him in his bedroom at his parents house where I would work at the hooters close to our home town and never enroll in the college. He would eventually break up with me while I was at work one day even though I was living with him and since I didn’t have a car he continued to take me back in forth from work and I continued to live with him and continued to be in love with him while he committed to the fact that he didn’t want to be in a relationship but wanted to marry me one day and just wasn’t ready for anything right now and still wanted to have sex with me which I did. From working at hooters I had auditioned for the calendar and ended up being really liked by the photographer and started doing some modeling from that which was super exciting for me because I always was interested in that and the pictures we took would blow up and I started getting well known in my area for modeling even though they were just pictures and I wasn’t making any money off of it. Eventually a guy came into hooters telling me about working as an exotic dancer and how much they could make and I still needed a car really badly and was desperate to get out of my ex’s (now fiance) house. So I told him I would be waitressing and that I heard the waitresses make good money there and asked him to give me a ride there one day and so he started giving me a ride everyday. The money was so good to me and the most money I had ever seen. I ended up staying in a hotel closer to the club I worked at and sometimes he would come stay with me and I would just uber to work. Eventually I had gotten a car which I was so happy about. A couple of weeks after I got a car I ended up getting sucked into human trafficking with a friend where I would live in a house with multiple girls for 6 months and go to work at the club every day of the week except Saturday and Sundays. I wasn’t doing anything extra just dancing but the money was going to some random guy. It’s crazy I know. I was stupid and young and my family were not concerned for me at all or involved in my life. unfortunately my friend is just now leaving that situation. I got out without anything no car or nothing and had nowhere to go so back to my exes I went where I decided I was going to buy a cash car again and I worked everyday like I was used to saved money and got a car. Moved to my sisters and stayed with her for a little where i decided I didn’t want to dance anymore and I got a job as a bottle service girl and then waitressing at another waitress. I continued modeling because it made me happy and I never told anyone the truth about the deep things that were happening in my life except for my now fiance. So nobody had no idea about me dancing or the human trafficking or anything. Everyone just knew I modeled. I ended up getting an apartment with some friends and One day I got the urge to go to California randomly and at my waitressing job I was handed $800 and I took it as a sign and booked a flight the next day. Where I went by myself my first time ever on a flight with no plans at all. The day I got there I got asked to be in a commercial two days later. My roommate and her friends flew out there to get me and she ended up being able to be in the commercial with me which ended up on tbs but I had to go back home to my apartment and responsibilities and couldn’t leave my roommate stranded. Even though months later we would end up getting in an argument and I’d move out and move back with my ex (now fiance) where I would continue to work and model (for free) and went back to the club to dance and then my sister ended up going to California for a travel nursing assignment and her and her bf broke up and she asked me to move with her. I had nothing else here, my ex was still saying he didn’t want to be in a relationship, he was consistently sleeping with other girls while we lived together and expected relationship things from me. I was paying for everything for him. I paid for him while he was in school for audio engineer, his gas, lunch, school clothes, shopping, I helped him open his own studio and bought his equipment and Mac for it, even though his parents were very involved in his life. I got all his family bday gifts and Christmas gifts every year. He was honestly just using me but I was so in love and blind. He encouraged me to go to California too so I had nothing else there for me, if he had told me to stay and he wanted to be with me I would’ve. I flew out on my 21st birthday and met my sister and Vegas where we would have such a great time and my ex spent that day hanging out with a girl that tried to fight me and didn’t even tell me happy birthday, I was crying in the bathroom in Vegas until my sister shook me and told me to get it together we’re in Vegas. I was so heart broken to be leaving him but he didn’t care. I got to LA and I instantly started modeling on day one I booked a photo shoot where I met a guy that reminded me of my ex (I know) but we instantly clicked and he was 7 years older than me. We ended up talking for a little bit and pursuing something even though I wasn’t ready emotionally but he didn’t really care and I was kind of star struck a little because he was a music producer for a very famous musician and he was very persistent but that’s another story. I ended up booking a music video as a main girl for my ex’s (now fiance) favorite artist. When it came out it was crazy because I felt like the universe and God was just blessing me for leaving that situation and I knew he would see it because he was so obsessed with that artist and it shook up the whole small town I was from. After that I booked a lot of cool jobs like Sephora and worked with a lot of companies, and did some music videos for other super famous artists, and walked in fashion shows and modeled for clothing brands etc. I was working all the time as an extra to pay my bills and I was meeting cool people. I was always getting invited to celebrities parties and just having such a fun time. I decided to start getting into acting instead and started going to acting school where a lot of well known celebrities also went to and I started having meetings with very popular directors and I was being mentored by famous directors and another person that created an tv entertainment channel that I won’t say here also mentored me a lot and got me a lot of meetings with these people and would go to dinners and stuff etc with a list celebrities. I truly was living the life. And coming from where I can it was almost a dream. I had gotten in a relationship my first year there with that other guy I mentioned who ended up being super possessive of me but he treated me like a queen in the sense of paying for everything, giving me a safe space to tell my feelings, open up, the sex was amazing, he would take me on trips, took me out of the country for the first time. We ended up not working out due to lifestyle differences and just being at two different places and wanting different things. He wanted to move out of the country and have a farm and I wasn’t ready to do that as I wanted to focus on my career. (But I would die to move out of the country on a farm now ironically and he is doing just that now like he said he would haha) anyway, I ended up having my own studio apartment by myself that I loved so much and was so proud of. My sister had moved to Montana and it took a lot for me to get my apartment like staying in a house with other girls for a little to sleeping in my car and at a spa for a couple days. When I would fly home or drive home to see my family I would always see my ex, everytime. We kept a friendship and sometimes I would still help him out if needed, he was interning at a church through his school for audio engineering and recording people at his studio in our hometown. By this time I was going to New York and Miami also sometimes and doing work there. I wasn’t as stressed about bills anymore. I was seeing guys every now and then but not at all interested in a relationship, my heart was still healing from the past and both my exes but mainly my first (now fiance). I was super focused on my career and optimistic, I was used to the grind and in no way ever thinking of quitting. It just wasn’t an option because I knew I would make it wherever that would be because to me that is all I had for me and all I ever knew I wanted and the only thing that saved me. Skip to around October 2019 I had found out about a girl my ex was seeing and it crushed me. He was doing with her just like he was with me though. Just “friends with benefits” I was living in my apartment in LA still and my uncle that helped raise me was getting really sick back home and put on hospice so I decided to take a trip back to see him. I would go to restaurants in my state and near my home town and people would ask to take pictures with me, and at the little ceasars drive through someone asked if I was me and stuff it was crazy because I hadn’t been home in awhile and I felt like what I was doing was finally paying off and people were recognizing me. It was surreal. I ended up going to see my ex. I had such a fear of losing him to this other girl for some reason. I was so scared he would get her pregnant or get in a serious relationship since I was gone so far away and I would never be with him, I would end up sleeping with him again and the girl found out and drove by his house mad and cussing me out and throwing stuff at me. We ended up getting in a fight which is so embarrassing and beneath me. I ended up crying to him that I wanted to be with him and don’t know why he never wanted to be with me which at this time he honestly was not even in my playing field anymore. He told me if I wanted to be with him I had to move back to my hometown.. my heart dropped to my stomach and I knew it wasn’t what I was supposed to do but I said okay… all because this is what I had wanted all those years. I decided to stay where the next two years all I would think about everyday was I was making the wrong decision and needed to go back to my life. My hometown had nothing for me.. COVID hit a couple months after me being there and we were terrified. We ended up getting everything out of my apartment and moving into a house around the corner from his parents. I had to tell him how I liked to communicate now without yelling and stuff which I learned from the boyfriend I had in LA and that I wasn’t going to put up with that disrespect but he never listened. Eventually everything went back to normal. I ended up going back to the club again dancing because I didn’t want to go backward and model here. He never wanted me to go back to LA even for a little bit even though that’s where my career and heart was so I had no idea what to do with my life. I started waitressing as well and getting back on my adhd meds. People started pressuring us to get pregnant and we tried for a year and 6 months. The month I found out I was pregnant before I knew, I quit my job and decided I was going to move back and get my life back. Two days later I found out I was pregnant…. Finally after trying for over a year. Our relationship was toxic just like the past he always yelled, I could never talk to him about my feelings without him saying I was trying to fight, he spit in my face once, threatened me, put his hands on me, he would tell me he was going to take my baby away from me as soon as I had it. I started asking him about getting married while I was pregnant and the proposal wasn’t even that. He got mad at me for asking one day and walked in the room and handed me the ring. It didn’t fit because I was pregnant & it was $27 (not that that matters but the proposal sucked).. he drained both my bank accounts and they closed it, charged my credit card up and put me in debt, he has not let me do anything I want to do like school or anything. He is so bad with money. He has an action figure addiction and at one point was spending 3k on action figures every month and turned one of the rooms in our house into a collection room so I had to take everything out of my closet and put my sons crib in there for the first year of his life. we have good times and I feel comfortable with him. He knows everything about me but he doesn’t respect me and sometimes I feel like he is intimidated by me. The sex isn’t good at all we always just ask “do you want to have sex” he never gives oral or foreplay, I never get pleasure. He’s an amazing dad though and loves his son. We have the most sweet and beautiful little boy now who I love so much and he loves him also. He’s very attentive to his son. But I still feel unheard. I can’t talk about my feelings. If I do it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change anything. He is so defensive and we never communicate for a solution it’s always just pointing fingers. I have started yelling again because I’m so used to it now and I hate it because I grew up like that and I finally grew out of it until I got back with him and recently started again and now he throws it in my face and knows I begged him not to do it forever but he never stopped and now I am too. I’ve asked him to take me to the movies and he hasn’t still. I just ask for more romance and stuff but it just feels like I have a roommate. I have nothing now. I had my car and we traded it in for a new car that he wanted. I always dreamed of the next car I’d get once I paid it off but he got it & it’s in his name now so I paid it off for nothing. I’m driving around his dream car. I’ve been planning our wedding since I birthed our son and everything is going good. Money is tight. He works at the church now full time and makes about 45k a year or so, my son has been waiting to start daycare for awhile so I have been home with him. I’ve tried starting jobs multiple times but he is against it unless it’s super fast money like going to the club which I am so repulsed by and absolutely hate it now. I tried going back to college but my old college won’t release my transcripts for fasfa because I owe them money. I started cosmetology school a few months ago which he was all for but two months in freaked out and him and his mom guilt tripped me that we can’t handle this right now and he was having a hard time doing the night time routine for the baby while I was at school so I had to leave and now owe that’s school for my kit unless I enroll again in 128 days. I also miss modeling so much and sometimes think I can start again but it’s been five years. My body is so different too after a baby. Everything I want is a no go. Especially moving out of our hometown. He says he wants to but I don’t think he does. We are constantly at his moms and dads and they tell us all the time we aren’t moving anywhere which is really hard for me as this place is super toxic for my soul. Anytime I get money he spends it. Anytime I save money he spends it. Even if it does go towards our bills. His action figure habit is almost nonexistent now and he has grown a lot in the past few months from that since I demanded my son have his own bedroom after his first bday and all his figures are in boxes now and told him he could turn the shed into his man cave. He says we can’t save because we have nothing to save after bills but I believe in saving anything even $5 a paycheck. It’s doable. I grew up poor so this is nothing to me but after living the lifestyle I lived in LA and going out with guys that respected me and cherished me it’s hard. I know nobody is perfect but we are about to get married and I’m scared… I have nothing though anymore. I’ve threatened to leave a couple times and he says he will take me to court and take my baby. I’m scared he might. I don’t want my son to be angry like him or not respect women how he does. In public he’s a saint. He also has a very supportive family that it’s almost toxic. They all blame me for his anger issues and say I make him that way. But he’s been punching walls since I met him in 8th grade. I know it’s not because of me. But I have nobody else and nowhere else to go. No money. No car. I’m at the bottom again where I was before. Only difference is now I have a son. And we are getting married in three months and I can’t call it off. I am older now and looking back on my life I realize he maybe truly never loved me and I was just so desperate for love. I got myself here nobody else. I accepted everything, even when my gut told me not to. ( he is not just horrible, he’s a great person just with some bad qualities like everyone but I’m tired of feeling stuck with someone that never truly wanted me and doesn’t care to grow in some ways or show me )
Please help.. what do I do?

Hey Internet strangers i need advice i 17F and my bf 19M are in a long distance relationship have been for almost a year now and im really at a loss for words after what happened this week so me and my boyfriend see each other once a month maybe two if lucky he lives in belgium while i live in the Netherlands so what I’ve been struggling with is the lack of intimacy too be honest i just want him too screw me already too say bold its been 11 months now and we havent gone past kissing and touches and its really frustrating me sinds i have a high libido despite me being a virgin and so is he but i know he is struggling with his confidence in himself and as a man you see the problem is his manhood is 10 cm or about 3,9 inches and its his biggest issue besides him being 1,60 cm or 5,3 and me being 1,65 cm or 5,4 so he is quite short sure you can say that but i love him either way my entire heart anyways so this weekend he was over at my place and well we watched some anime but i really couldn’t get past a few episodes sinds i was holding myself back from ripping his clothes off as he was cuddling me after the third episode i started kissing him and he kissed back he pinned me too the bed and i felt him getting hard and looked at him with needy eyes begging him too make love too me as i held his cheek and tried too touch him too be precise his poking manhood and he immediately flinched and backed off he gave me sad eyes and apologised i immediately felt like we were back too square one sinds this wasn’t the first time every time i tried too initiate Intimacy he flinches and backs off i couldn’t take it anymore this time as my emotions were building up and i just asked him why he couldn’t just do me? He responded with the most heartbreaking thing i’ve ever heard “i don’t want you’re first time to be a mistake” is what he said and i knew he was referring too his manhood because he always explained that the girth wasn’t how he liked it i never really saw it just once peeking when he was showering at my place i know it sounds creepy but i’ve been obsessed and addicted too him since ever we started dating and the curiosity was killing me i want him too feel confident around me i want him too feel good around me feel confident feel loved I begged him too just try it with me and yelled that he wouldn’t know if i havent felt it i told him he is the only one i want no one else but he just apologised and couldn’t look me in the eyes and ended up leaving even if i tried stopping him begging him he left I’ve been crying ever sinds and its been a few days he has apologised over and over i know he has these intrusive thoughts of another man taking me away from him i know he’s hurting because he is the sweetest guy you will ever meet his heart is so much bigger than his height and i can’t stop imagining what he’s going through please help what can i do please internet strangers?
Ps: if you’re curious about him just imagine him as Kevin Hart Lol thats a joke we always make sinds he’s Black.

 The necropolis was gorgeous, for what it was. Its white outer walls hiding the darker Victorian Gothic interior. The tech that was hidden in the walls though was able to move bodies in their caskets from a designated place in the necropolis to the "viewing area" as the necropolians called it. This was where I waited for my, for lack of a better term, escort to take me to the mortuary. Since science has grown surprisingly fast our abilities for forensic sciences have also grown, and that's to whom I was headed. (S)He was an, unusual (wo)man to say the least. An expert in their field and about as learned as a doctor, if not multi-doctorate. If you ever asked them why they never pursued an actual doctorate, they would get angry and act all prissy while saying that going to school would've slowed them down and all they needed were the basic certificates for their work. The reality though, revealed to me during a drunken bout, they just never liked school and believed that it ultimately stunted a person's growth and ability to question the reality around them, that everything that you need to learn is already in books and in some form or another in digital content online. They were brilliant, if a little wacky. About five minutes after I had arrived and was sitting down in the viewing area, a little box rolled up to me making a couple of beeps to let me know to follow it and immediately started rolling towards the wall opposite of where it came from. When it looked like it was about to hit the wall, a hidden door opened up by the casket viewer, inside was a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. Stepping through the doorway I became acutely aware of sounds seemingly coming from all around me suddenly. It really is impressive, as though I just stepped from a tomb to a busy workshop, the sounds of gas escaping pistons, whirring, and clanking chains flooded my ears. I continued down the stairs following my helpful little box, which despite its size and shape would suggest was actually quite nimble on the stairs. It seemed to have wheels that would extend down to the next step as the edge rolled over it and once the back of the box was clear of the step it would drop back into its squat position, hiding its wheels as quickly as possible. It continued to do so the entire way. The box seemed to notice me watching it and made a kinda shrill whistle and its undercarriage light went from a comfortable yellow to a, is that... Peach? Is it blushing? My god I think it is! I let out a small chuckle and my little blushing box stopped dead in its tracks mid-step, its light suddenly going white, almost blinding me from behind and lighting up the hallway for a split second. Luckily both of my feet were solidly on a step so I didn't take a tumble or anything, but I couldn't help doing anything but laughing harder. 

After a second the little box crept up behind me and continued down, its status light continuing to show pinkish. I followed it slowly, the chuckle slowly dying in my throat as we reached Ceriths office. Well "office" was being nice. Morgue, mortuary, both of these fit just as well. Cerith was, for the most part, a recluse. We reached the door and the little robot continued through a little hole in the wall. I waited a second and knocked. "Enter!" Came the voice on the other side. I opened the door and stepped through. Along one wall set doors that normally housed the dead waiting to be processed. One out of dozens were open, its occupant missing from its silver slab. The middle of the room was brightly lit from a single overhead light. In the middle of the circle of light stood a figure, long Raven colored hair bound in a single braided ponytail, the rest of them bound in medical examination garb. They seemed to be engrossed in the corpse in front of them. The little robot rolled up next to Ceriths feet and made a little chiming noise. "Thank you Tabitha. That'll be all," said a voice that was neither male nor female from beneath the mask. Just sort of in the middle. "Tabitha? Never knew you to be sentimental," I said gently, the chuckle in my voice making itself clear. "I see you still find even the darkest things funny," Cerith quipped back. "My line of work Cer, you take the laughs where you get them. Look who's talking anyway, you're usually elbows deep inside someone 25/8. Even you have a seriously fucked up sense of humor." That got Cerith laughing, sounding like thunder and the whip crack of lightning at the same time. "You've got me there Julius," Cerith said after his laughter subsided. I think he suits him today. Which is both a good and bad sign. When Cerith is acting like a man, it usually means some grim news, but they are going to try to make it seem like not a big deal and laugh a lot. Plus they almost never call me Julius. Something was wrong. Very seriously wrong. As this realization hit me I got this odd tingle in the small of my back. Like someone had put several freezing needles under the skin and into my spine, something I'm familiar with from the anima-games from the cyber sphere. Halos: Divine Retribution If I remember right. Those Angels were sadistic bastards. I shuddered at both the memories from the game and the shockingly similar feeling I was experiencing. Dread, that feeling is dread my friend, the quiet part of my mind whispered to me. "Cer, what's wrong bud," I asked. He didn't say anything. For a long time. After a few minutes I was about to ask again, but then he spoke. And what came out will haunt me, quite possibly till the day I die. "This ones temporal lobes are gray matter. Nothing even close to being coherent. Just. Dead neurons. And he's not the first." Gone was the jovialness of the past ten minutes. This was Cerith the whisperer. In an almost dead tone they continued, "the others didn't fare nearly as well as this one. Most of the brain is intact here, which means that if they didn't deliver a massive shock or something similar to fully kill him he would have possibly lived as a vegetable with memory issues, but that's not what I'm looking for in this one here now. Now I'm trying to figure out what else the others had in common with him, and so far that's brought up all but naught. Well this one has a bit of liver damage. But that's about it. So Mr John was a drinker. Not much there." When Cerith is "whispering" the best thing to do is just let him be. But I couldn't help but prick my ears up at mentions of others with similar wounds, and the fact that this one had liver issues.... "Cer. You said... CERITH," I finally snapped out and caught his attention mid ramble. "Thank you. You said liver problems. But nothing similar to the others? No drugs? Alcohol? Not even a synth brain-pattern? You checked Everything?" "Well let's see, John here was a drinker that's for sure," Cerith said his hands never ceasing their work as he started to put 'John' back together seemingly satisfied that he found nothing else, " Mr Lombardo in chest 3 had cocaine mostly, and Mr Lei in chest 9 had opium. Although to tell you where it came from for both I'd have to do a molecular analysis and see what it compares to. Other than that, no. Absolutely nothing connecting any of them. As far as I can tell they are all unique cases completely separate from each other except for the damages to the brain. And I only found this by accident. During a routine scan I happened to look at the screen as it passed through the brain and noticed an odd density in his temporal lobes. Just slightly higher than normal. Hell to be honest with you it had the density of a fresh cutie, you know those little oranges?" I nodded, and he continued, "Right of course you do, who hasn't? Anyways it's just super dense compared to the surrounding tissues, and I take a sliver probe and drop it in like you do. And when I turn the damn thing on to look at the neurons the area all I see are dead cells packed on top of one another. Not natural decay death, but forced to die. Most of the cell walls were torn open like they had blown up from the INSIDE. That's when I called you." He finished up with 'John' putting the final few perfect stitches in place and sealing him up for good. Once he seemed happy with his work he called out to his seemingly empty morgue, "Grom I'm done! Can you put Mr John Doe here back in his room? Number 11 if you please." He turned away from the body on the table and removed the giant rubber gloves that went to his elbows. He walked into the dark calling out over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a sec I gotta scrub out, want a drink? I have beer, whiskey, vodka, I might have some Cognac somewhere, and bourbon. Your choice, just call out what you want and Tabitha will be there with it. Also have a seat! We have much to discuss." With that he disappeared from both sight and sound in the dark. It was a neat trick I have to admit, and it had something to do with how he had his morgue set up. Even the giant war machine that was Grom was absolutely quiet unless you managed to catch him through the gloom. I thought for the longest time the reason why I could never catch him sneaking around was from some sort of stealth program put into place, but when he goes up and down those stairs he's as loud as can be. So it was definitely not his program but the way the morgue was built. I'm confident in saying that because when I turned back to look at the table, or rather where it was, there was now a chair that looked like it had just grown out of the floor and the body was gone. Also the thought of something as big as a fridge just sneaking up on some poor combatants and snapping their necks as quietly as he walks in the morgue just gives me the heebies. As I sat in the chair a thought occurred to me. Considering how advanced the morgue seemed to be it would make sense that it had some sort of AI or integrated computer. "Computer?" I had been here a million times but I'd never had a chance to think about it nor try anything. But not even a second after I had said anything a response came. "Yes Detective Julius. My name is DANNA. Or Dynamically Actualized Neural Net AI. How can I be of service?" The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, slightly feminine and breathy, all service but no sex. Honestly I was just surprised that it worked. "DANNA, I was just wondering if I could take a look at the files that Cerith had mentioned? If it is as bad as they claim I think I might need to know anyway. Also if you can get those blood works done for me I'd appreciate it. Also something with whiskey or rum would be amazing." "Of course Detective. I will have Tabitha bring it shortly. And how would you like the information to be displayed? Desktop or dynamic?" That piqued my interest. "Dynamic please." No sooner than I had said a series of screens blinked into existence in front of me. It was some sort of Holographic display. I reached out and touched the display and was surprised that I got stopped by something. It was hard but surprisingly I found that I could push into the screen with my finger if I pushed hard enough. It kinda felt like... Oobleck. I also found that by pinching the corner I could pull the screens closer or further from me. I even found that I could grab individual pages of the reports off the screen and hold it. It felt like a thin sheet of plastic and responded like both a tablet and a singular document. If I switched pages the old one would appear back onto the screen and the next would pop onto it. This was about as slick a set up as I had ever seen and whistled my appreciation under my breath, I'm definitely going to have to ask Cerith about where they got DANNA from. "See something you like, big boy?" A very DEFINITELY female voice said in my ear from behind, soft and throaty, screaming come hither. I felt small dainty hands gently caress the tops of my shoulders before slipping down the front of my chest, pulling me back into the chair that I didn't realize I had been slouching in. "You know better than that, Jules. Your back is important and slouching will destroy the muscles and cause some to atrophy." The voice left no room for argument, and left me more than a little bit flushed. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back as far as it would go, the back of my head hitting something soft and warm, stretching my neck and back out. "Damnit Cer I thought you were scrubbing out, not completely changing." I hadn't realized it, but at least an hour had passed from when I started playing with the computer and working with the files if the clock on the computer was to be believed. "You looked like you were pretty into it so I decided not to disturb you. Plus you know how much fun it is for me to tease you like this. Especially after, well these..." One hand waved at the screens in front of me. The small hands' nails were painted the darkest black and almost made them blend into the void that existed outside of the screens. "I do Cer, and that's part of the problem, we both know that it's never going to happen. Least of all for you." She laughed a little, a clear beautiful sound and the body beneath my head bounced slightly telling me I was against her stomach. "Still I know you enjoy these little moments," she said, the pressure on the back of my head disappearing and was replaced by the voice right by my ear again as she whispered, "especially when we both know that's not at all true." At the last words she nibbled my ear gently. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her, in spite of my baser instinct rising to meet her VERY juicy insinuations. But for as long as I've known Cerith and as many times as we have both been VERY drunk, they have NEVER cashed in. I just assumed that it was a quirk of theirs. "Anyways," she said standing back up, "what are you thinking so far about the files? Spooky, right? Like I said, nothing that I can see connects them." Her hands gestured in front of me in an approximation of a shrug. She then clasped them together, wringing the knuckles and effectively trapping me in the chair and back against her abdomen. I scrubbed my eyes with my fingertips acutely aware of the growing headache that suddenly made itself known. "Your right from the medical side. I can't see everything you can, of course. I don't have near the knowledge that you have," which is true being that Cerith is at least 200 years old. I never asked directly, the old adage still holding about women and their age. Still though her answers to certain questions would lead one to believe her being her first adult car was a Bing Cherry 2201 Firebird GT with white walled hover trim and chrome accents. From pictures that I could find it looked like a slick piece. Looking back to the screens I couldn't help but feel that itch again. I couldn't explain it. That prickly feeling of ice needles again, this time in the back of my skull. As much as I'd hate to admit it. I think Cerith is right. I sighed heavily before saying "send me everything. I'll open a new case file and have the team start working on it first thing." She made a happy noise and bounced slightly, clearly satisfied with my decision to take it on. I reached out and to my left and a glass was placed gently into my hand by Tabitha. I hadn't even realized she had come over while I was working and was now ready for that drink. Room temperature rum and cola. The drink went down smoothly enough considering I drained the glass in one gulp, during which time I finally got a good eyeful of Ceriths current form. Or rather the underside of part of it. From what I could tell she was wearing a black T-shirt. That was it. I put the glass back down, it's job done without moving my head and said, "What a lovely view Cerith. I'm guessing you chose this to try to get a rise out of me?" I couldn't lie though it was affecting me, but I couldn't let her know that. Not when she's like this. Otherwise she'll continue to tease me till she leaves me with the absolute worst case of blue balls this side of the City. Her hands came up and cupped my chin almost lovingly, and her voice said "Of course Detective. Do you not approve? Or would you rather I change back to my medical examination form? Or something else?" Her words dripped with implied sex. I groaned, loudly, and said, "This is fine. Jesus Cer." Before we could continue our most scintillating of conversations there was a sudden PING! And DANNA said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a message for you Cerith. It says 'If you can get to the department Cerith, do so. We need you to explain your paperwork. And if Detective Julius is still with you have him come in too.' signed the Chief. Would you like to reply?" 'Shit, I forgot the morgue kills all signals,' I thought to myself as I stood up gently (regretfully) prying myself from Ceriths grasp with a, "duty calls. Need a lift?" I stretched gently, the scales in between my shoulders clicking appreciatively for the stretch, and turned around to notice she was indeed, just wearing a black T-shirt that hugged her voluptuous figure closely. The scales in my back clicked shut in surprise. Cerith let out a small cute chuckle, "I see after all this time I can still surprise you," she said blowing a kiss my way, reminding me of a little Gothic pixy. I rolled my eyes away from her and willed my scales to relax. I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair, slinging it on and clicking the neck clasp shut under the cord that connected my scales to the unit in my head. I was awarded the cybernetics upon completing my training and getting all my licenses to have them. The force had allowed me to customize it, I had chosen top of the line. A dual unit with custom built AI. The individual scales were ceracoated titanium microprocessors all running in both series and parallel, and could move to expel heat or react. The main unit was the same except it was one solid unit that replaced a chunk of skull. Once that was done I zipped up the front of the leathers and ran the scales through the racer setting. They clicked and flattened against the outside of the jacket, securing it to my back. I shrugged making sure it was comfortable. "I'll take the fact that you're only in a t-shirt you'll be along shortly?" "Certainly detective." Her voice was filled with dismissive submission... And sadness? I looked back at her and noticed her makeup was gone. Or had she had any on in the first place? I gave myself a mental shake. There's no way. This was Cerith, veritable goddess of the necropolis. I put the last few minutes away for review later. Chief called. I have to go. On an instinct I thought long dead, I reached out and squeezed her hand. I felt a slight squeeze back. And then she let go with a, "Go on, be a good detective. I'll be along shortly." I left with Tabitha as my guide. Before Cerith disappeared into the darkness I thought I heard her whisper, "please don't leave." My scales raised in a saddened response. I couldn't be sure I heard her right though. If I heard her at all. I reached back and stroked them, knowing my ai probably heard her, and knowing it could feel me touch the scales. After a few seconds the scales settled down. 'I know buddy,' I thought to the AI. It couldn't respond like usual AI. The force thought that was too dangerous. What if it went rogue? What if it tried to kill the host and take over? The list went on and eventually they decided the basics were ok. When I got my unit one of the first things I did was jack it into a diagnostic to see what kind of hardware I was dealing with exactly because manufacturer specs from real use are sometimes different with AI if the bits and bobs are in place. When I did, all I got on the screen was 'Hello?'

After getting alot more experience, I have decided to rerelease my first script, with a few formatting changes. I wanted this and the rest of the ongoing series to match the standards of the other scripts in my library.
Note: monetization is fine, just credit me, send a link of audio, and ask before making any changes
Context: Damar and Listener manage to climb down the mountain to the entrance to the caves. Damar has created a torch for light and the duo are slowly making their way to the Emerald Serpent’s nest.
Damar: We were lucky that the serpent’s nest was right below us. Ok, there are two ways we can go about this task. First, if the serpent is asleep, I will keep a lookout for any signs of it waking up, while you get the scale. Second, if the serpent is awake, I can distract it long enough for you to get the scale. With both of these plans, we get the heck out of dodge as soon as the scale is in hand. Do not look back at the serpent if it is chasing us, just keep your legs moving.
(Short Time Skip)
Damar: Looks like the Serpent is asleep, so we will have to go with Plan A. Do not aim for the head or tail, maybe somewhere in the middle. I will alert you if I notice anything.
…..
[Snake Tongue flicking sound]
Damar: Human, look out!
[Snake hisses and bite sound?]
Damar: No! [Weapon unsheathing sound] Take this you overgrown garden snake!
[Sound of sword hitting something]
Damar: (Speaking to Listener) I will get you out of here, do not worry.
.... [Running sound]
Damar: Are you ok? (Starts to panic) No, of course, you are not ok! Your leg just got bitten!
Damar: (Trying to stay calm) Let me see the wound. That does not look good. And I do not have an antidote on me.
….
Damar: Of course, you will not die. I will not let it happen. You will go back to your village and see your grandmother again. I vow this upon every tree in the forest. Just please hang on for me!
….
Damar: Try to keep your eyes open! Tell me your name. I still cannot believe I forgot to ask it of you when we first met.
….
Damar: That is a lovely name. And honestly a lot more elegant than the ones belonging to the elven noblewomen.
….
Damar: You are starting to feel numb? The venom must be particularly potent. I will see if I can get the venom out, but you have to stay awake.
…..
Damar: (Voice fades in and out) (Sounds panicked) Do not go to sleep! Do you hear?! Do not go to sleep! Hey! Hey! Do not go to sleep!
(Time Skip) [Fire crackling sound]
Damar: Oh, you are awake? I was starting to worry you would not pull through.
…..
Damar: Do not try to get up. I managed to suck out most of the venom and make a poultice, but you are not out of the woods just yet. [Sound of water being rung out of a cloth] You still have a fever. It is best if we stay here for a few days until your fever cools down a bit.
….
Damar: Where are we? After you fainted, I scooped you up and managed to get out of the serpent’s den. And as for your wound … (Takes in a breath) the emerald serpent’s venom becomes sticky once injected into its victim. That makes it harder to be sucked out and for the victim to recover. Since I removed most of it, you have a higher chance of survival, but we have to find some way of neutralizing the rest. I was thinking we could use the silver unicorn tears. They are supposed to be one of the most powerful healing items in the whole domain.
….
Damar: The scale fell to the ground after you got bitten, so I grabbed it on our way out of the den. I put it in your pack with the Thunderbird feather. As for the unicorn tears, a herd of them live not too far from here. I guess we are getting luckier and luckier as the trials go on. Except for you getting injured of course. Now that you are awake, I am going to check on your wound.
…. [Bandage unwrapping sound]
Damar: Looks like the poultice helped, but your leg is not fully healed. See these black veins? That indicates the remaining venom. As I mentioned earlier, I managed to get most of it out of the bite. However, I noticed the rest of the venom was harder to remove and I feared accidently hurting you further by pulling at it. Let me prepare a fresh poultice and rewrap your leg.
[Wrapping sound?]
Damar: There you go. Just focus on resting for a little while longer and then we will make our way to the unicorn herd. You also do not have to worry about walking, since I will be carrying you.
….
Damar: Your face is turning red. That is either from your fever or (Smirk and flirty) you are blushing because I said that I would be carrying you.
….
Damar: (Chuckling) There is no need to hide your face. I find you blushing rather cute. To be honest, you are the first human woman that I have ever considered beautiful. You are so concerned about your grandmother, that you completely disregard your own safety. I will make sure you complete the last task so you can go home. And maybe... (kinda nervous) we could hang out sometime? I know some good spots for picnics. Hopefully, I am not sounding weird, considering we just met a few days ago. I swear I am starting to sound like Mother.
…..
Damar: Do not giggle at me! I am trying to be serious and not sound like a blubbering idiot. Just focus on getting some of your strength back and I will make sure no monsters or that oversized garden snake tries anything. Sweet dreams human.

A Simple Yet Thought-Provoking Doorway

Interviewer: Howl's Moving Castle was a huge success as well, with box office revenue reaching 19.6 billion yen. This places it second only to Spirited Away among Studio Ghibli films. The original story is by Diana Wynne Jones, and the screenplay was written by Mr. Miyazaki.
Mamoru Oshii: Howl's Moving Castle is excellent, my favorite among Ghibli's works. The story isn't entirely clear, the logic doesn't always hold up – these aspects haven't changed much from Miyazaki's past films. But, at this point, there's nothing more to say about those points. So, what do I appreciate about this film? In a word, it's the mechanism of that doorway. Miyazaki's changing mindset as he gets older is clearly expressed through that door's workings.
Interviewer: The door of Howl's castle leads to different worlds, and its mechanism is divided into four parts.
Mamoru Oshii: That truly impressed me. Every time the mechanism shifts, the door opens to a different world. The black passage leads to the battlefield, flames are raging, Howl transforms into a monstrous bird and flies off, then returns completely exhausted. Seeing Howl like that, Calcifer says, "He might not come back." What kind of meaning do you think that holds?
Interviewer: Does it represent Mr. Miyazaki's heart being divided into four parts?
Mamoru Oshii: It's not about the number. Women might not understand easily, but men get it right away. Especially older men, they understand at a glance. Because they are also constantly turning that doorway unconsciously. In other words, whether consciously or unconsciously, they always play multiple roles. An older man working at a company switches modes when he comes home; when playing with a young woman somewhere else, he switches again; when interacting with his son and daughter, he switches yet another time. Simply put, humans are creatures that live separately in different worlds. There may also be a dark side that leads one to become a monster. People definitely possess a side that turns into a monster and runs rampant on the battlefield, and are destined to coexist with this darkness.
I've never seen a film that depicts the multiplicity of an older man's inner world in such a persuasive way. I love it. The doorway mechanism turns, and the world changes instantly. It's fantastic.
Interviewer: That's high praise indeed.
Mamoru Oshii: It is. But it's dangerous, you know? Sometimes you slip up and reveal a side you shouldn't in front of your wife and children. Wives are probably aware of this to a certain extent, but they don't bring it up. If you ask me, that's what living with a man is all about. You might not notice it when you're dating, but after getting married and having children, women realize that older men use different faces in different situations.
Being able to create this kind of expression means that Miyazaki himself must have struggled with switching between different faces. By now, he's probably become quite adept at it. I'm the same way. After all, film directors have to be geniuses at switching gears – the face shown to staff, the face shown to producers, the face when alone, the face shown to family – you really have to separate them all.
Interviewer: That sounds truly exhausting.
Mamoru Oshii: It is, it is. A person like Miyazaki must have a remarkable monster dwelling within him, right? For Howl, that represents the moment when he throws aside all humanity and becomes a monster. Although it's incredibly difficult, even requiring him to fight till he's covered in blood, he can't escape it. Why? Because he couldn't survive without that side of himself.
He must have referenced other archetypes as well, but no one else could have expressed it so brilliantly. Miyazaki truly is one of a kind. That doorway in the film is so good that it overshadows everything that comes after. The war ending abruptly, for instance.
Interviewer: In the first place, it's unclear why the war even started. To be honest, there are too many things that don't make sense. Sophie's original goal was to break the Witch's curse, but somewhere along the way, this goal disappears, and she ends up living with the Witch.
Mamoru Oshii: That's why it's pointless to try to apply logic. This is Miyazaki's world of imagination, where the laws of cause and effect don't apply. This world itself is Miyazaki's fantasy.
Interviewer: But there is a source material.
Mamoru Oshii: Half of it has probably vanished without a trace, wouldn't you say? All that's left is the basic setting. The castle's design is amazing, it even has a torpedo launcher, doesn't it? It makes you wonder what that torpedo launcher is for and what it's supposed to fire at. It feels like Miyazaki just crammed in everything he likes.

Miyazaki and My "View of Family"

Interviewer: I love the design, though.
Mamoru Oshii: It can accommodate anything, and this time he put "family" in it.
Producer Toshio Suzuki said something interesting. He was also the producer for my film, Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence. He said: "It's fascinating how both Miyazaki and you are making the same kind of film. In short, the theme is "home". Both are stories about family. Miyazaki's film expresses the idea that whether it's an old witch or an orphan, it's fine to welcome anyone into the family, because we're all family. And in your film, whether it's a dog or a doll, it doesn't matter if they're not human. It's a very interesting approach to considering a new kind of family."
Interviewer: Mr. Suzuki is insightful.
Mamoru Oshii: He's the kind of person who observes from such unique angles. That's his strength, thinking from perspectives no one else would consider.
Of course, I wasn't conscious of it either. I had no intention of making a story about family. The "unconscious genius" Miyazaki must have been the same. But when Suzuki pointed it out, I felt "that's exactly right". When people establish a sense of shared existence, the most basic form of it is family. Of course, there are male-female relationships within it, but when viewed from the perspective of social relationships, there's nothing other than family. Even blood ties aren't necessarily essential within it. Originally, the starting point of family is strangers, no blood relation needed. A married couple is essentially a pair of complete strangers with no initial blood ties. They start from a marital relationship and then begin to build kinship ties. It's not like in Shuji Terayama's Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets where people separate first and then spend time exploring family forms in various ways. That's probably how it is.
Thinking about it this way, even the house they live in in Howl's Moving Castle walks on two legs, doesn't it? What does that mean? It means that it's no longer even connected to the concept of "settling down", which represents the idea of family. The characteristics of a house being rooted in the land are irrelevant. On the other hand, in Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence, it doesn't matter whether you're human or not, but you need to be with others to live as a human being.
Looking at both films from the perspective of family makes many things easier to understand, that's for sure. If you don't think about it this way, the content of Howl's Moving Castle will become more and more perplexing as you watch it.

Hayao Miyazaki is David Lynch?

Interviewer: Speaking of family, Sophie's family is nowhere to be found. It's as if she's just a beloved and beautiful younger sister that everyone adores.
Mamoru Oshii: After watching Howl's Moving Castle, no one can recall the details of the story clearly. I watched it twice, which is rare for me, but I still can't remember the story. The protagonist Howl appears suddenly, and Sophie is introduced already sewing hats, but why is it a hat shop?
Interviewer: It's a hat shop in the original story.
Mamoru Oshii: But it must be because Miyazaki wanted to draw scenes of hat making, right? Miyazaki loves artisans, loves depicting scenes of crafting things. Up until now, he's always had this tendency - even if it sacrifices consistency to some extent, he'll find a way to realize the scenes and fantasies he envisions. But with Howl's Moving Castle, he completely let go and took a straight path to fantasy. Howl's Moving Castle is exactly that kind of film. Whether or not there's source material is irrelevant. The story of Master Howl is a prime example.
Interviewer: Voiced by Akihiro Miwa, the character of the Witch of the Waste, right?
Mamoru Oshii: Scenes like the shooting stars are undeniably beautiful, but do they have anything to do with the story? Miyazaki's impression of magic must be these beautiful visuals, so he simply wanted to create them.
Interviewer: It's not just that, the character of the Master is completely incomprehensible.
Mamoru Oshii: I've said this so many times, you can't seek consistency in Miyazaki's films because they're all fantasies. It's best to view them through the lens of David Lynch's Twin Peaks.
Interviewer: Lynch's films don't prioritize consistency either. Nobody expects a logically sound story from his work.
Mamoru Oshii: Then why have such expectations for Miyazaki's films? They're both transforming their own fantasies into films, whether it's Lynch or Miyazaki.
Interviewer: "Hayao Miyazaki is David Lynch", that's quite a bold statement.
Mamoru Oshii: There's one crucial difference between Lynch and Miyazaki: Lynch sees humans as frightening creatures. Lynch's theme is singular – the terror of humanity. As a Lynch fan, I've finally reached this conclusion recently. Humans are terrifying beings; they create terrifying events. This is the theme of Lynch's works. The very existence of humans is eerie, so his works are unconcerned with good and evil, angels and demons. That's why Lynch's films are unique.
So, what about Miyazaki? Miyazaki genuinely wants to view humans as benevolent creatures and the world as something beautiful. This fundamentally differs from Lynch, who is obsessed with a world of horror. However, they share the commonality of realizing their fantasies through film. Another difference is that Lynch consciously depicts horror, while Miyazaki does so unconsciously.
Interviewer: In the latter half of the film, Sophie suddenly shifts between being young, middle-aged, and elderly. Is there any meaning behind this?
Mamoru Oshii: No, it's just to make her appearance fit the scene. They simply decided, "It's better for her to be young here", and that's about it. There's probably no deeper reason. So even if you try to overanalyze it, you won't find anything.
Interviewer: It's fine if you don't fully understand Lynch's films, but you still want to try and understand Miyazaki's.
Mamoru Oshii: Because at first glance, they appear to be orthodox narrative films.
No matter how many bursts of fantasy there are, he still wants to reach a conclusion and summarize the meaning in the end, right? In that sense, he's still clearly more timid than Lynch.
Interviewer: But you said that Howl's Moving Castle is your favorite work, didn't you?
Mamoru Oshii: Yes. Even though it doesn't fully let go in the end, it's quite transparent before reaching the conclusion. It doesn't force itself into a narrative structure, so in that sense, I really appreciate it. The doorway mechanism and the scene where the Witch of the Waste makes shooting stars fall from the sky are both incredibly beautiful and impressive. Although the depiction of the royal palace feels somewhat generic, the scene where they're panting and climbing the palace stairs is quite interesting. There are truly many excellent scenes.

Howl is Miyazaki Himself

Interviewer: In that stair-climbing scene, there's a dog named Heen. Don't you think he resembles you a bit?
Mamoru Oshii: That dog... (laughs) The staff kept telling me about him when the film was released, and I could definitely sense some malice directed at me. Because Heen is a useless dog, isn't he? His personality seems quite bad as well.
Interviewer: So he's like you. When I saw it, I couldn't help but think, "It's Oshii!"
Mamoru Oshii: Because I've also poked fun at them many times in my own works. I named the old man who runs Shanghai Tei in Patlabor "Hayao Saki". Mr. Takahata appears as "Inspector Takahata", although he's a villain (laughs). Needless to say, Toshio Suzuki has made multiple appearances as well.
But if that dog is me, then Howl must be Miyazaki. He projected himself onto the protagonist in Porco Rosso, didn't he?
Interviewer: Wait a minute, that handsome Howl? Really?
Mamoru Oshii: Absolutely. The works where Miyazaki projected himself onto the protagonist are Porco Rosso, Howl's Moving Castle, and The Wind Rises. What aspects of Howl resemble Miyazaki? This statement will surely shock many fans.
Mamoru Oshii: He wants to be that kind of man. A wizard, the head of a household - there's no doubt that Howl is his projection.
Interviewer: But Howl said, "I can't live without being beautiful."
Mamoru Oshii: That's right, he transformed from a pig and uttered those words. Voiced by Takuya Kimura, no less. In reality, Miyazaki loves to be cool, but he understands that it doesn't suit him, so he intentionally makes himself appear plain. I forget when it was, but he even imitated Ryotaro Shiba's style by wearing a black coat. Miyazaki respects Ryotaro Shiba a lot, although I dislike him.
What strikes me as the biggest similarity between Howl and Miyazaki is the scene where Howl returns to the castle as a monster and sluggishly climbs to the second floor.
That scene embodies Miyazaki's true feelings - even if he's making a big fuss outside, he still has to crawl back to his room. When Sophie scolds him saying, "You did it again! It can't be helped", didn't you feel like he must have been scolded by his wife this way too? He finally returns, but as a monster. From this perspective, he's really quite transparent (laughs).
As long as you understand Miyazaki, you can pick up on these amusing nuances. But even if you don't know him personally, the film is full of interesting scenes and beautiful visuals. However, there's really nothing to say about the plot. So, they should just tell the world that, but instead, people love to praise "how great the stories are" in Miyazaki's films.

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

Hi! This is going to be a long one/rant and story because I really don’t know who to talk to about this in real life because I’m not in therapy and I’m so embarrassed to be feeling this way knowing I made all the choices to be here and people are already flying in from out of state to come to our wedding. Also I’m diagnosed adhd incase any of yall are wondering what’s wrong with me once I tell you all the decisions I made to get here. I am getting married in three months and have a son who is 15 months old. My now fiance 28m and I 27f met whenever we were thirteen years old in middle school and started a tumultuous up and down / on and off again relationship. We were together all the way up until junior year in high school and we broke up. I come from a broken home and he does not. Looking back I realize how much of me staying with him and trying to keep his attention stemmed from my abandonment issues that I must have had from my own parents. After we broke up he joined a gang in my local hometown and I was still in love with him so I decided to still be involved with him even though I was not in a relationship with him. I ended up losing my virginity to him while we were not together just because I wanted to be with him and we said we were friends with benefits but really I was just in love with him and thought by doing that maybe he would want to be with me again but he didn’t and continued to sleep with other girls and do drugs. I also started doing drugs like Xanax and smoking to fit in with him and be cool. I ended up getting a horrible tattoo because one of the other girls he was also seeing had a bunch of tattoos. I dropped out of my high school college courses and ended up going to jail for marijuana in high school and got kicked out of cheer and softball. I ended up on probation and having to be drug tested for a year. Within that year after being heart broken and realizing nothing I did would make him change into who he was before he got involved in our local gang or make him want to be with me… I ended up enrolling in college and getting accepted to a university where I would move about two hours away from our home town to live on campus and study to be a nurse. While on probation, so I couldn’t really party or anything in college which was good (even though I was never really addicted to anything and it wouldn’t be that hard for me) I wanted to save money for a car so I ended up getting a job at the hooters next to my college and was in college full time and working at hooters. My sister happened to go to that same college before I did and live in that town with her ex bf and they would give me rides to and from work back to campus. Low and behold after about two semesters of me being in college and finally feeling like I was moving on from him, he came back messaging me and telling me he missed me and wanted to be with me again. I was stupid and so excited that I agreed and asked him to come see me at college where he would stay for the weekend and we would have an amazing time. I felt so good about myself doing what I was doing and being able to show my growth. Despite all that he was still able to convince me to leave school and come back to be with him and live with him and go to the college near our hometown and work at the hooters near our hometown. I had already felt like I didn’t want to be a nurse at the time because my sister who was a nurse told me you could never leave the state as a nurse if you get your license there (which she didn’t know at the time that you could) and I knew I didn’t want to stay where I was from and wanted to eventually travel. So I decided to leave and move back with him in his bedroom at his parents house where I would work at the hooters close to our home town and never enroll in the college. He would eventually break up with me while I was at work one day even though I was living with him and since I didn’t have a car he continued to take me back in forth from work and I continued to live with him and continued to be in love with him while he committed to the fact that he didn’t want to be in a relationship but wanted to marry me one day and just wasn’t ready for anything right now and still wanted to have sex with me which I did. From working at hooters I had auditioned for the calendar and ended up being really liked by the photographer and started doing some modeling from that which was super exciting for me because I always was interested in that and the pictures we took would blow up and I started getting well known in my area for modeling even though they were just pictures and I wasn’t making any money off of it. Eventually a guy came into hooters telling me about working as an exotic dancer and how much they could make and I still needed a car really badly and was desperate to get out of my ex’s (now fiance) house. So I told him I would be waitressing and that I heard the waitresses make good money there and asked him to give me a ride there one day and so he started giving me a ride everyday. The money was so good to me and the most money I had ever seen. I ended up staying in a hotel closer to the club I worked at and sometimes he would come stay with me and I would just uber to work. Eventually I had gotten a car which I was so happy about. A couple of weeks after I got a car I ended up getting sucked into human trafficking with a friend where I would live in a house with multiple girls for 6 months and go to work at the club every day of the week except Saturday and Sundays. I wasn’t doing anything extra just dancing but the money was going to some random guy. It’s crazy I know. I was stupid and young and my family were not concerned for me at all or involved in my life. unfortunately my friend is just now leaving that situation. I got out without anything no car or nothing and had nowhere to go so back to my exes I went where I decided I was going to buy a cash car again and I worked everyday like I was used to saved money and got a car. Moved to my sisters and stayed with her for a little where i decided I didn’t want to dance anymore and I got a job as a bottle service girl and then waitressing at another waitress. I continued modeling because it made me happy and I never told anyone the truth about the deep things that were happening in my life except for my now fiance. So nobody had no idea about me dancing or the human trafficking or anything. Everyone just knew I modeled. I ended up getting an apartment with some friends and One day I got the urge to go to California randomly and at my waitressing job I was handed $800 and I took it as a sign and booked a flight the next day. Where I went by myself my first time ever on a flight with no plans at all. The day I got there I got asked to be in a commercial two days later. My roommate and her friends flew out there to get me and she ended up being able to be in the commercial with me which ended up on tbs but I had to go back home to my apartment and responsibilities and couldn’t leave my roommate stranded. Even though months later we would end up getting in an argument and I’d move out and move back with my ex (now fiance) where I would continue to work and model (for free) and went back to the club to dance and then my sister ended up going to California for a travel nursing assignment and her and her bf broke up and she asked me to move with her. I had nothing else here, my ex was still saying he didn’t want to be in a relationship, he was consistently sleeping with other girls while we lived together and expected relationship things from me. I was paying for everything for him. I paid for him while he was in school for audio engineer, his gas, lunch, school clothes, shopping, I helped him open his own studio and bought his equipment and Mac for it, even though his parents were very involved in his life. I got all his family bday gifts and Christmas gifts every year. He was honestly just using me but I was so in love and blind. He encouraged me to go to California too so I had nothing else there for me, if he had told me to stay and he wanted to be with me I would’ve. I flew out on my 21st birthday and met my sister and Vegas where we would have such a great time and my ex spent that day hanging out with a girl that tried to fight me and didn’t even tell me happy birthday, I was crying in the bathroom in Vegas until my sister shook me and told me to get it together we’re in Vegas. I was so heart broken to be leaving him but he didn’t care. I got to LA and I instantly started modeling on day one I booked a photo shoot where I met a guy that reminded me of my ex (I know) but we instantly clicked and he was 7 years older than me. We ended up talking for a little bit and pursuing something even though I wasn’t ready emotionally but he didn’t really care and I was kind of star struck a little because he was a music producer for a very famous musician and he was very persistent but that’s another story. I ended up booking a music video as a main girl for my ex’s (now fiance) favorite artist. When it came out it was crazy because I felt like the universe and God was just blessing me for leaving that situation and I knew he would see it because he was so obsessed with that artist and it shook up the whole small town I was from. After that I booked a lot of cool jobs like Sephora and worked with a lot of companies, and did some music videos for other super famous artists, and walked in fashion shows and modeled for clothing brands etc. I was working all the time as an extra to pay my bills and I was meeting cool people. I was always getting invited to celebrities parties and just having such a fun time. I decided to start getting into acting instead and started going to acting school where a lot of well known celebrities also went to and I started having meetings with very popular directors and I was being mentored by famous directors and another person that created an tv entertainment channel that I won’t say here also mentored me a lot and got me a lot of meetings with these people and would go to dinners and stuff etc with a list celebrities. I truly was living the life. And coming from where I can it was almost a dream. I had gotten in a relationship my first year there with that other guy I mentioned who ended up being super possessive of me but he treated me like a queen in the sense of paying for everything, giving me a safe space to tell my feelings, open up, the sex was amazing, he would take me on trips, took me out of the country for the first time. We ended up not working out due to lifestyle differences and just being at two different places and wanting different things. He wanted to move out of the country and have a farm and I wasn’t ready to do that as I wanted to focus on my career. (But I would die to move out of the country on a farm now ironically and he is doing just that now like he said he would haha) anyway, I ended up having my own studio apartment by myself that I loved so much and was so proud of. My sister had moved to Montana and it took a lot for me to get my apartment like staying in a house with other girls for a little to sleeping in my car and at a spa for a couple days. When I would fly home or drive home to see my family I would always see my ex, everytime. We kept a friendship and sometimes I would still help him out if needed, he was interning at a church through his school for audio engineering and recording people at his studio in our hometown. By this time I was going to New York and Miami also sometimes and doing work there. I wasn’t as stressed about bills anymore. I was seeing guys every now and then but not at all interested in a relationship, my heart was still healing from the past and both my exes but mainly my first (now fiance). I was super focused on my career and optimistic, I was used to the grind and in no way ever thinking of quitting. It just wasn’t an option because I knew I would make it wherever that would be because to me that is all I had for me and all I ever knew I wanted and the only thing that saved me. Skip to around October 2019 I had found out about a girl my ex was seeing and it crushed me. He was doing with her just like he was with me though. Just “friends with benefits” I was living in my apartment in LA still and my uncle that helped raise me was getting really sick back home and put on hospice so I decided to take a trip back to see him. I would go to restaurants in my state and near my home town and people would ask to take pictures with me, and at the little ceasars drive through someone asked if I was me and stuff it was crazy because I hadn’t been home in awhile and I felt like what I was doing was finally paying off and people were recognizing me. It was surreal. I ended up going to see my ex. I had such a fear of losing him to this other girl for some reason. I was so scared he would get her pregnant or get in a serious relationship since I was gone so far away and I would never be with him, I would end up sleeping with him again and the girl found out and drove by his house mad and cussing me out and throwing stuff at me. We ended up getting in a fight which is so embarrassing and beneath me. I ended up crying to him that I wanted to be with him and don’t know why he never wanted to be with me which at this time he honestly was not even in my playing field anymore. He told me if I wanted to be with him I had to move back to my hometown.. my heart dropped to my stomach and I knew it wasn’t what I was supposed to do but I said okay… all because this is what I had wanted all those years. I decided to stay where the next two years all I would think about everyday was I was making the wrong decision and needed to go back to my life. My hometown had nothing for me.. COVID hit a couple months after me being there and we were terrified. We ended up getting everything out of my apartment and moving into a house around the corner from his parents. I had to tell him how I liked to communicate now without yelling and stuff which I learned from the boyfriend I had in LA and that I wasn’t going to put up with that disrespect but he never listened. Eventually everything went back to normal. I ended up going back to the club again dancing because I didn’t want to go backward and model here. He never wanted me to go back to LA even for a little bit even though that’s where my career and heart was so I had no idea what to do with my life. I started waitressing as well and getting back on my adhd meds. People started pressuring us to get pregnant and we tried for a year and 6 months. The month I found out I was pregnant before I knew, I quit my job and decided I was going to move back and get my life back. Two days later I found out I was pregnant…. Finally after trying for over a year. Our relationship was toxic just like the past he always yelled, I could never talk to him about my feelings without him saying I was trying to fight, he spit in my face once, threatened me, put his hands on me, he would tell me he was going to take my baby away from me as soon as I had it. I started asking him about getting married while I was pregnant and the proposal wasn’t even that. He got mad at me for asking one day and walked in the room and handed me the ring. It didn’t fit because I was pregnant & it was $27 (not that that matters but the proposal sucked).. he drained both my bank accounts and they closed it, charged my credit card up and put me in debt, he has not let me do anything I want to do like school or anything. He is so bad with money. He has an action figure addiction and at one point was spending 3k on action figures every month and turned one of the rooms in our house into a collection room so I had to take everything out of my closet and put my sons crib in there for the first year of his life. we have good times and I feel comfortable with him. He knows everything about me but he doesn’t respect me and sometimes I feel like he is intimidated by me. The sex isn’t good at all we always just ask “do you want to have sex” he never gives oral or foreplay, I never get pleasure. He’s an amazing dad though and loves his son. We have the most sweet and beautiful little boy now who I love so much and he loves him also. He’s very attentive to his son. But I still feel unheard. I can’t talk about my feelings. If I do it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change anything. He is so defensive and we never communicate for a solution it’s always just pointing fingers. I have started yelling again because I’m so used to it now and I hate it because I grew up like that and I finally grew out of it until I got back with him and recently started again and now he throws it in my face and knows I begged him not to do it forever but he never stopped and now I am too. I’ve asked him to take me to the movies and he hasn’t still. I just ask for more romance and stuff but it just feels like I have a roommate. I have nothing now. I had my car and we traded it in for a new car that he wanted. I always dreamed of the next car I’d get once I paid it off but he got it & it’s in his name now so I paid it off for nothing. I’m driving around his dream car. I’ve been planning our wedding since I birthed our son and everything is going good. Money is tight. He works at the church now full time and makes about 45k a year or so, my son has been waiting to start daycare for awhile so I have been home with him. I’ve tried starting jobs multiple times but he is against it unless it’s super fast money like going to the club which I am so repulsed by and absolutely hate it now. I tried going back to college but my old college won’t release my transcripts for fasfa because I owe them money. I started cosmetology school a few months ago which he was all for but two months in freaked out and him and his mom guilt tripped me that we can’t handle this right now and he was having a hard time doing the night time routine for the baby while I was at school so I had to leave and now owe that’s school for my kit unless I enroll again in 128 days. I also miss modeling so much and sometimes think I can start again but it’s been five years. My body is so different too after a baby. Everything I want is a no go. Especially moving out of our hometown. He says he wants to but I don’t think he does. We are constantly at his moms and dads and they tell us all the time we aren’t moving anywhere which is really hard for me as this place is super toxic for my soul. Anytime I get money he spends it. Anytime I save money he spends it. Even if it does go towards our bills. His action figure habit is almost nonexistent now and he has grown a lot in the past few months from that since I demanded my son have his own bedroom after his first bday and all his figures are in boxes now and told him he could turn the shed into his man cave. He says we can’t save because we have nothing to save after bills but I believe in saving anything even $5 a paycheck. It’s doable. I grew up poor so this is nothing to me but after living the lifestyle I lived in LA and going out with guys that respected me and cherished me it’s hard. I know nobody is perfect but we are about to get married and I’m scared… I have nothing though anymore. I’ve threatened to leave a couple times and he says he will take me to court and take my baby. I’m scared he might. I don’t want my son to be angry like him or not respect women how he does. In public he’s a saint. He also has a very supportive family that it’s almost toxic. They all blame me for his anger issues and say I make him that way. But he’s been punching walls since I met him in 8th grade. I know it’s not because of me. But I have nobody else and nowhere else to go. No money. No car. I’m at the bottom again where I was before. Only difference is now I have a son. And we are getting married in three months and I can’t call it off. I am older now and looking back on my life I realize he maybe truly never loved me and I was just so desperate for love. I got myself here nobody else. I accepted everything, even when my gut told me not to. ( he is not just horrible, he’s a great person just with some bad qualities like everyone but I’m tired of feeling stuck with someone that never truly wanted me and doesn’t care to grow in some ways or show me )
Please help.. what do I do?

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

Make up & fragrance sale! (Verification is at the top of each category and at the very bottom) - will ship within 24 hours of payment - prices do not include shipping
Perfume & Eyeshadow Palettes Photo 1:
Sol de Janeiro ‘68 Beija Flor hair and body fragrance mist 1oz $10
Sol de Janeiro Rio Radiance hair and body fragrance mist 1oz $10
Gucci Bloom Mini Perfume 5ml $16
Juliette Has A Gun “not a perfume” (x2) 5ml $14 each
Nest “Lychee Rose” 3ml $12
By Rosie Jane “Leila Lou” 3ml $11
Juliette has a gun “not a perfume” 1.7ml $3
Commodity milk bold 5ml $10
Commodity milk bold 10ml (sprayed 2x) $14
Ellis Brooklyn “sun fruit” 5ml $10
Carolina Herrera very good girl travel spray 10ml $26 (used twice)
Photo 2:
Ariana grande cloud 2.0 3.4oz $58
Dior hypotonic poison EDT 1.7oz $75
Laura mercier Ambre Vanilla EDT 50ML $35
Commodity Gold 1oz $35
Ariana grande “moonlight” perfume 60-70% full $20
Maison Louis Marie no 13 perfume oil $35
Third-Seventh photo:
Too faced better than chocolate eyeshadow palette
Tartelette in Bloom eyeshadow palette
Natasha Denona Retro Palette $50
Ofra “on the glow” palette $30
Glossier monochromes trio eyeshadow palette “clay” and “bluff” $15 each
Kylie classic matte palette $25
REM Midnight Snack eyeshadow palette $18
Chella divine eyeshadow palette $5
Pat McGrath eternal Eden eyeshadow quad quad $35
Pat McGrath passion fleur eyeshadow quad quad $35
Tarte Amazonian Clay eyeshadow palette “glamour palette” $25
Tarte Amazonian Clay eyeshadow palette “gilded glamour” $25
ATHR Beauty Crystal moonlight palette $8 (fingerprint in silver shade)
Eighth-Tenth photo:
ATHR Beauty Crystal moonlight palette $8 (fingerprint in silver shade)
Ciate London velvet palette $10 (one swatched shade)
Il makaige color boss master palette (one swatched shade) $20
Lip products/mascara/foundation
First-third photo:
Pat McGrath Lip Lust Gloss “earth angel” $18
Pat McGrath Lip Lust Gloss “heavy petal” $16
Pat McGrath lunar new year matte lipstick “rouge 8” $15
Buxom plumping gloss set $30
Buxom full on lip polish “Patricia” $12
Buxom full on lip polish “Rebecca” $12
Buxom full on lip polish “Angela” $12
Charlotte tilbury “nude romance” lipstick $25
Jaclyn Cosmetics lip oil “pink pop” $15 (2 available)
Natasha denona I need a nude lipstick “21P Sava” $24
Huda beauty faux filler “bombshell” $20
Jaclyn liquid lipstick “bow” $10
Jaclyn lip liner “bow” $10
GXVE liquid lipstick “tomboy” $12
Beauty value lip liner trio $10
Mac lipglass “all things magical” $14
Too faced too femme “never grow up” $14
Elf lip oil “honey talks” and “jam session” $5 each
Pat McGrath lip fetish divinyl lip shine “flesh 7” $25
Laura mercier petal soft lipstick crayon “320 Amelie” $18
Too faced lip injection lip gloss “pretty pony” $14
Too faced lip injection plumping liner “puffy nude” $14
“Fenty glow” gloss bomb 2ml mini $12
Jaclyn cosmetics lip gloss “fearless” $10
Anastasia velvet matte lip duo hush rose & muted mauve $20
Kimchi marshmallow butter lippie “nineteen” $12
Olehenriksen pout preserve peptide lip treatment “citrus sunshine” $16
YSL rouge volupte shine “161 rosewood beat” $28
YSL rouge volupte shine “44 nude lavalliere” $28
YSL The bold “13 Nude Era” $30
Lawless forget the filler lip plumping satin lipstick “femme” $22
Tarte maracuja juicy lip plump “pearl shimmer glass” $22
Summer Fridays lip oil “blush dreams” $22
Fourth photo:
Mac powder kiss liquid lipcolour “a little tamed” $10
Bare minerals “wonder” lip gloss $12
Too faced lip injection maximum plump mini $6
Charlotte tilbury “hall of fame” lipgloss $12 (used 3x)
YSL candy glaze 02 (used 2x) $18
Fifth photo:
PLouise lip drip “growing & glowing” $18
Kylie plumping gloss “moody queen” $18
Kylie tinted butter balm “pink me up at 8” $18
Lawless forget the filler plumping gloss “Annie” $25
Sephora favorites perfect pout lip kit $45 (3 available)
Pat McGrath mini maximum impact kit: Elson $25
Sixth photo:
PLouise liquid blush the cheek of it “melon mood” & “Lolly dolly” $20 each or
Elf lip oil “jam session” $5
Anastasia satin lipstick “peach bud” $15
Anastasia satin lipstick “taupe beige” $15
Seventh photo:
Too faced better than sex foreplay mascara primer $14
Too faced better than sex mascara full size $15
Too faced better than sex mini mascara $10
Rare beauty mini mascara $10
YSL lash clash “uninhibited brown” full size $25
YSL lash clash mini noir black (2 available) $15 each
Charlotte tilbury full fat lashes mascara $12
Fenty beauty full frontal black mascara $12
Iconic London black mascara $12
Eighth - Tenth photo:
Charlotte tilbury airbrush flawless foundation “2” (used 2x) $20
Dior backstage face and body foundation “0N” (used lightly 4x) $25
Mac strobe dewy skin tint “light 3” $38
Laura mercier full size translucent setting powder & velour puff $30
Face products
First-Fourth photos Charlotte tilbury highlighter “pillow talk glow” $25
Physicians formula bronze booster light to medium $10
Kylie highlighter “winter rose” $16
Bare minerals ocean sunset glow cheek palette $25
Iconic London “light & glow” duo $16
Too faced highlighter “moon crush” $20
Colourpop lip & cheek balm “hearts content” $12
Ofra highlighter “star island” & “glazed donut” $12 each
Flower pyramids cheek color $6
Benefit “tickle” highlighter $25
Dior rosy glow blush “001 pink” swatched $28
Dior forever highlighter “pink glow” $50
Fenty “wattabrat” highlighter $28
Fenty killawatt highlighter snack size “crystal fire” $20
Vesca bronzer $6 (2 available)
Pixi hello kitty glowy powder “friendly blush” $12
Laura mercier blush “pomegranate” $25
Kimchi almost catfished “banana” pressed powder $15
Anastasia sugar glow kit $25
Iconic London bronzer “warm bronze” $10
Beauty concepts “stargazer” complexion palette $15
Too faced cloud blush “golden hour” $18
Tarte highlighter “sparkler” $15
Bobbi brown highlighter “pink glow” & “chestnut glow” full sizes $25 each
Fifth photo
Laura mercier “celestial light” setting powder $25
Drunk elephant miracle butter
Urban decay eyeshadow primer
Hello Kitty compact mirror $12
Grande brow 2 in 1 brow serum $10
Glossier haloscope “quartz” highlighter
Fenty matchstix “amber” $25
Glow recipe watermelon moisturizer 10ml $5
Givenchy prisme libre green color corrector $26
Beauty concepts butterfly shimmer highlighter $6
Too faced plump and prime primer $25
Lucky chick lip & cheek stick
NARS afterglow blush “behave” $25
Laneige glowy make up serum $25
Tula rose glow + get it eye balm $28
Tula gold glow + get it eye balm $28
Joah buffing brush $5
Beauty blender opal essence serum primer $26
Benefit the porefessional good clean up $15
Too faced born this way concealer “marshmallow” $18
Glossier stretch concealer G10 $16
Anastasia cream bronzer “Amber” $25
Make up eraser mini cloth $4
Skylar “pink canyon” perfume $10
Anastasia “iced out” cream stick highlighter $26
Bobbi brown eyeshadow sticks “dusty mauve” “truffle” and “golden pink” $20 each
Laura mercier caviar eyeshadow stick “Wild rose” $20
Pat McGrath gel eyeliner black $14
Mac powder foundation
Sixth photo:
Laneige make up bag (2 available) $15 each
Seventh photo:
Lawless body buff brush $20
Lawless set the stage hydrating + soothing primer serum $20
Rose inc foundation brush #3 $20
Laura mercier Longwear eye pencil “noir” $15
Pixi by Petra glitter-y eye quad $14
Rare beauty blot & glow touch up kit (2 available) $20 each
Charlotte tilbury flawless filter “2” $38
Mac mini strobe cream “pinklite” $10
Bobbi brown mini long wear cream shadow set $30
Juliette has a gun “pear inc” $2
Colourpop twilight highlighter “vampire skin” $12
Living proof dry shampoo mini $8
Ouai detox shampoo 1oz $5
Anastasia cream stick highlighter “bubbly” $20
Kimchi diamond shartz “world dominance” $10
Bare minerals loose powder foundation “fair ivory 2” and “fair 1” $30 each
Danessa Myricks Merch
Danessa myricks Starbucks tumbler $20
Danessa myricks sunglasses $8
Verification 1
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Starting off I am currently 22 AMAB. I have never had any ties to my gender as it never really mattered to me, though there was nothing innately male in the things I did, unlike my older brother. A lot of my childhood was failing at mimicking him. Whether that be hating sports or clothing options or whatever. I did tend to get fairly jealous at how my sisters were able to express themselves as they were born but wrote a lot of that as to discomfort and the growing hate I had for myself.
Fast forward, there was a period of time in 2021 when I started questioning my gender due to the ever-present, "I wish I could be more feminine", "I wish my clothing options were as cute, vast, and expressive", "The friendship circles I see my female friends have seemed so much more appealing than the toxicity in all the male groups I see". So I talked to my then girlfriend(ex) about it and she took me out clothes shopping and gave me a no-pressure situation. The euphoria I got from doing my makeup alone at night and not needing to prove or show it to anyone, and the comfort I got from where women's clothing both made me happy, but sad at what I might have to accept. When thinking about social implications, family, my future career...I put up endless walls to say why it was a bad idea to entertain the Idea of being transgendered. I chalked a lot of the feelings up as "I grew up with a lot of other traumas and depression, you aren't trans, you just want to create a form of control in your life".
After the relationship, I gave up on all of that side of me until the past month or two as I don't have a support system that I inherently trust(Not only that but the loss in trust due to what caused our breakup), but I don't know if this is just some fantasy of wanting to change my gender. It never made sense because I didn't hate being male necessarily within its core aspects, I just constantly wondered if I was something else, and had a euphoric experience when I finally tested it out during the time in 2021. The two sides of the coin plus the innate fear of having to deal with any implications from friends and family that hold me back from telling anyone anything, including my therapist.

I am not going to name names but I have talked in DM to 5 guys on this sub in latin america and they even showed me or told me they are overweight. (none of them had real IG pages either, but that's another discussion)
You will not only get higher quality girls abroad, they will also have genuine lust and attraction for you if you are actually well put together.
If you are not looksmaxing, getting jacked and well dressed you are furthering our reputation as the dudes from 90 day fiance, or even worse, guys who pay women for sex.
I am currently training strength 4 times a week, getting my hair done every other week, wearing tailored clothing (though not suits because it screams tryhard) i am also wearing 4cm lifts in my shoes to be taller and I am already above average height.
I get it no one wants to be associated with black pill and incels but you can simply reverse that simply not falling victim to their fatalist ideology. Looks matter, so does money matter, so does status, max out all three.
The youtube Auston Holleman is the only guy I see in this community that is not delusional about being looksmaxed.
Please change my mind about this. Looksmaxing is something I feel passionate about because I used to be ugly, ungroomed, skinny fat with shit posture, I am from the 3rd world originally and when I came back there after 2 years of rigerous looksmaxing, I was treated like a GOD compared to before. I am not a model or even someone who is GL today, but just going from low average to high average (which most guys can do) improved everything for me.

Sorry for the long post. I'm in need of some guidance...
Split from abusive husband last June. Since then he has been having our 3 children sleep over 2 nights every week. Today I have seen on a shared email address a drafted letter from his solicitors to have 50/50 shared custody - obviously attempting to get out of paying maintenance!
So up until 6 weeks ago our children would sleep over with him 2 nights a week (eldest refused as he's 15 and can make his own mind up).. originally I had a voice note from our youngest whilst he was in his care (11years old, autistic with severe allergies). This vn displayed my son having an allergic reaction - wheezing, tight chest and sore throat! My husband refused to answer my 6 phone calls.. I then sent him a text 'answer your ******* phone... is *** OK?' To which he rung me back stating 'yes he's ok I'm lying in bed with him now.. he's just a bit wheezy and has an itchy throat (prime examples of anaphylaxis)' I said on the phone to him 'he is probably having a reaction.. do you know how to administor an epi pen!?' To which he replied 'no haven't got a clue'. This all happened whilst I had gone away for the weekend and had no way of getting back in time...
The following weekend my ex 'moved' into his new flat (he's renting a place for the boys but lives with his new piece).. all 3 boys were excited to stay over in dadi's new flat. Long behold I had the dreaded phonecall not only off my eldest (15) but also off the middle child (13) balling their eyes out to come home because; 1. There was water pouring through the ceilings! 2. Daddy wasn't there and that they'd been left with Nanny (paternal grandmother) who was not capable of looking after them due to her previously 'attempting' to commit suicide after WE (myself and husband) had called her out on leaving our then 4, 3 and 1 year old to fend for themselves all day out on the streets! 3. There was no fridge or beds for them all.. just a dart board without darts!
That night I had to go pick my children up.. to which my husband and his mother slagged me off to our children. The following day I allowed the youngest to stay with his dad - the eldest 2 refused to see him.
When the youngest got home to me the next day, he disclosed that he was left in the flat for hours by himself and didnt know where his father was. This is a highly functioning autistic child with severe allergies! My friend happened to drive past the ex's flat that evening and noticed my husbands friend standing outside. When I questioned my youngest about this, stating 'oh it must have been nice to see ***** yesterday!?' He replied with 'oh yeah, the door bell rang so I ran down stairs to answer it, and ***** was there asking where Dadi was. But I couldn't tell him because I hadn't seen Dadi for a few hours!'
That week I sent the father of my children a list of what I expect of him inordered for him to have the boys over night again; 1. Sort your life out (I'm under the impression that he's on drugs - he's racked up 26k of debt since leaving, but all debt collectors letters still come to the 'family' home) 2. He makes the flat safe for our children (damp and leak). 3. He doesn't go against my wishes with his mother looking after them. 4. Our youngest actually has a bed to sleep in - he's been on a blow up bed since last summer, eventhough I have provided a double bed for the children. 5. He puts our children 1st - He now acts dad of the Year to his latest supply and her 3 children constantly sending them money (bank statements Still come here). 6. Pays back the £600odd that he owes me (he told me to go ahead and order the boys trainers and clothes and he would pay me back his share the following day).. nope a month I've had to wait for it, eventhough he knew I didn't have food or electric in the house for the boys that week, but he could pay £20 for his 'secret' phone to talk to his new piece!
The youngest has spent 7/8hours with his dad every Sunday during the day since.. the eldest 2 still refuse to see him. The only thing I have stopped is over night visits due to the welfare and concerns I have surrounding our children - eldest 2 are in therapy because of his abuse and manipulation tactics!
The last 6 weeks have been nothing but hell..I'm a single mum on UC, caring for my mother, bringing up my 3 boys and paying all the bills including the mortgage (his name is still on it). I have put maintenance up to £200 a week based off his £800 a week main income - he is also working 2 nights on top of this a week (the 2 nights he should have his own children).
Today I saw a drafted letter on our shared email address from the solicitors of my husband. In this email, it states that I have been aggressive toward their client and I'm withholding the children having contact with their dad unless he pays maintenance. Their dad rings and texts them every day.. the only thing I have stopped is over night visits - its down to them if they want to reply or not.
The letter also states that I should include the ex on a family app so that he knows what's going on with the children.. why do I have to organise a calender for him when he's included on spond and WhatsApp groups for the boys sports?
I have tried my best to encourage my children to see their dad.. I am under womens aid for abusive and sexual violence.
That's all I want is for the children to have a healthy relationship with their dad.. but still he tries to manipulate and control me through the children.
I am monitoring all texts between my children and their dad - he still tries his best to make me out as the bad guy, eventhough the eldest 2 can finally see what he's like.
So my questions are.. can the courts force the children to see their dad? What can I do to stop him from having 50/50 access? Am I being unreasonable with my list of what I expect of him with the children's welfare?

Sorry for the long post, but I promise, its a good one. For some context, I work at a busy medical clinic that is its own standalone entity, no hospital attached to the clinic. We have 50+ rooms being used at any given time and have an urgent care that allows for walk-in appointments. Yesterday, I was asked if I would be able to stay after my normal shift to cover urgent care as the PA working had a sick kid. Not a problem, I do this all the time and am happy with the OT and knowing its either incredibly busy in urgent care until doors close, or its completely dead. Yesterday, we saw basically no one after 4p.m. (we are open until 10p.m)
All that changes when 45 seconds prior to closing, in comes boomer, boomer's husband, son-in-law, and two grandchildren. I hear, "glad we made it! Looks like you guys were just about to go home." Front desk staff checks boomer into the computer and then hands her an iPad to do her intake forms as she was a brand new patient for our clinic. Cue the stereotypical "back in my day" BS I head multiple times daily about how the iPad is so difficult to fill out for anyone who isn't a child.
In the interest of getting home sooner, I decided to get her back into a room, get tests started, and help her with the iPad. Going through the intake questions everything seemed fine. A few minutes go by when boomer's husband starts yelling, and I mean SCREAMING, at the top of his lungs at me that their wheelchair "didn't have the leg rests like the hospital's wheelchairs did. Why don't you have those wheelchairs here????" No problem. I can help with that, literally part of my job. I showed them how to use the wheelchair, got her leg supported, and continued asking questions. Then, boomer AND husband start screaming telling me the clinic is too cold, that I should have offered her a warmed blanket, coffee, and some kind of item to eat prior to bringing her back to the room. Like this is a restaurant or 5 star resort.
At this point I was flabbergasted, I've spent 15 minutes in the room with the patient helping with the iPad, explaining "a friend who you treated like family and had cancer has no medical relevance to your medical history," and trying to keep the rest of the family comfortable as their wife, mother-in-law, and grandmother was being treated. I looked at them and said, "we don't have any warmed blankets as this is not an emergency room or surgical center, but I can try to find a few gowns or towels we can use as blankets." Nope. Continued screaming and complaining. However, the tone had shifted from "this clinic is bad" to "you're the issue," meaning the screaming started to be directed towards me. As a healthcare provider, I have fairly thick skin and am able to shrug most things off with no problem. I generally will just leave the room for a few minutes to let the situation calm down and then return with a "kill'em with kindness" attitude. I left, ordered the tests I wanted to be run, and went and ended up finding a few blankets we had from a previous shipping mix-up. I walk back into the room, smile on my face, ready to give them the good news that nothing seems to be abnormal on any of the tests and she will be completely fine in a few days.
Oh boy was I wrong, in more ways than I could have thought. I open the door and feel like I was clothes-lined. I stumble backwards, supporting myself with the door, look up and see husband going in for another punch. A total of three punches connected with my face before son-in-law was able to hold husband back enough for me to leave the room. We have panic buttons placed around the clinic and I told one of the clinic staff to call the police and push the panic button. Told them under no circumstances do you enter that room.
Few minutes go by and you hear sirens approaching, shortly followed by three police officers coming into the clinic. I explain the situation to the police, explain I am not looking to press charges, I just want husband removed from the location so I can treat his wife. Police understand and say they will remove husband and have him trespassed from the property. Husband must have heard this through the door because he SWUNG the door open, smacking his grandchildren who were sitting behind the door, quietly the whole time. The police saw this, grabbed husband and detained him in cuffs immediately. They then explain he could be charged with two counts of aggravated assault and a count of aggravated assault on a juvenile. He turns ghostly white, turns to me and says "I ONLY hit you three times, you're just overreacting. Why did you need to call the police? I did nothing wrong!!"
Now our policy is quite black and white in regards to unruly patients, especially since we are an outpatient clinic and not an emergency room. Absolutely zero, and I mean ZERO tolerance of verbal, physical, or sexual abuse of any staff member or patient by any patient, family, or guests will be tolerated. I mean, I was punched three times by a dude I wasn't even treating, close to 30 minutes now past closing time after a 10 hour shift. IDK what constitutes calling the police to this dude, but I feel this was warranted. Once husband had been removed from the room, I returned to the patient, now in tears because her husband was just taken away by police. She is yelling at me that I "should have known he was just having fun and joking." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I ended up giving the son-in-law the directions for her care that I had written on her discharge sheet, checked out her grandchildren (no injuries other than a very small abrasion on one of their arms), and escorted them out of the clinic.
Seriously could not have made this shit up. After being assaulted by her husband, I was the one in the wrong for calling the cops? Nah. That ain't right. Normally love my job, but last night was a tough one.
Edit: wow, didn’t realize how not pressing charges lets them get off my bad guys. I will chat with my bosses tomorrow and see how I can press charges. Sorry guys, I’ll get that changed right quick

Have this white male 30 yr old "friend" who loves to tote about how he supports equal rights/black rights/women's rights and up until now he's honestly been pretty convincing. But lately he's been saying/doing some things that have me raising an eyebrow.
For one, he almost exclusively dates black women, and and by "date" I mean casually has sex with because he's unemployed/has no money and has essentially nothing to offer these women, but he's convinced that they want a long-term relationship with him. He says it's because they align best with him politically and that he's "usually not into white women" because of that.
I was telling him how I didn't like casual sex because it made me feel like a meathole and like I wasn't good enough for a relationship, and he replied, "Yeah that's why I don't want to have sex with you, because then you'd probably want a relationship with me," as if he has anything to offer me (an attractive, educated woman with a 6 figure job).
And then yesterday, I was talking to him yesterday about feminism and I told him I didn't think it was possible for a man to be "feminist" while actively objectifying women by watching 6 hours of porn every day (which he does). He responded by saying, "well WE [feminists] don't agree with that. Do you know what a SWERF is?"
(For the record, I have no issue with sex workers and have done sex work myself)
He then went on to say he's probably the only person I know who has actively protested for women's rights and that he needs porn because he's a visual creature.
I can't stop fucking laughing.

I think I've had this dream twice now. One time just now, I woke up fresh at 2am lol We are 3 girls in Germany who played a kind of game in which we start a round. At first we didn't get along well, or rather, I was the odd one out. But even though we were strangers to each other, we had to unite in the first round. Unfortunately, I can't remember what the beginning was like, so I'll talk about the round we just had now :')
We're approaching the start in a somewhat relaxed manner; we've already completed several laps in ththis, always the same map. There is a fashion store in front of us that we run through. I don't even remember who the enemy was, we just ran through it as if our lives depended on it. I think it was one of those dolls or an employee. There is something like a safe point behind the fashion store. We shovel ice cream and Jell-O in there, which really helps with my nerves.
"I don't want this, I can't go through this a fifth time!" I whine like a baby.
"Ah yes, last round you said, 'Now I don't have to be afraid of anything!' " cried the one I was clinging to, laughing.
I don't know if you're real, but I think we're really good friends now. And I know that for sure when I cling to arms that don't belong to me xD The other one treated herself to a fat ladle of jelly and vanilla sauce✨️✨️
And then it started. We are further and have seen our opponent. My perception always said that it was a mannequin, but it still somehow looked like an old man, about 50 years old. The next hunt takes place again in a fashion store and then goes outside. Into a city that I have no idea about and where I can hardly see anything while running. My heart was really racing and I was sure that I wouldn't be able to do it this time because I can never really get around the corners. Then it started, we ran like crazy, a doll came from behind and pushed away cupboards that I had put in her way. From then on the others were gone. So not gone in the sense of 'poof, just disappeared', but rather we were spread out and couldn't see each other. From then on I don't know what to do next. I forced myself to wake up because of the fear of these dolls because the doll came way too close to me and I fell on the floor and then lay on my back. The doll (or rather the old man in black leather clothes) then stood in front of me, pulled away the cupboards on the sides and stared down at me.
I hope you two managed it without me. I would have loved to tell you directly that I was going to Reddit, but that wasn't possible. If I were out of the “game” now, it would be a real shame. We are a really good team and I really have a feeling of friendship around you. After I woke up, my heart was really racing. After a few minutes, tears welled up in my eyes for no reason, even though I wasn't sad. To be honest, I really deeply regret waking up in the middle of it. Maybe you would have saved me after all. I hope that if you are truly genuine, your path will lead you here. I would really like to become friends with you in real life, you don't seem like you're just fictional people. I hope we find each other outside of dreams too.