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One Piece
2010.01.14 15:55 semizero One Piece
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2024.05.22 00:01 id0ntevenkn0th0 I think what I felt was real..
I usually have a gummy before bed to wind me down and relax before sleep. The other night, no idea why, I took 2. I’ve done that in the past and I had racing thoughts and saw colors and geometric patterns while my eyes were closed, but that was the extent of it. I didn’t like the way it felt, so I chose not to overdo it again.
This time around was unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. I had the usual “high” silly/random thoughts. Then it became spiritual. Like immensely powerful I can’t even describe the feeling.
I had my thumb pressed down on the voice memo record button for 40 minutes (to my ex boyfriend) while I word-vomited everything that was happening.
Keep in mind, we dated for 5 tumultuous years. Our anniversary was 2-22 and we saw the number 22 everywhere, every single day. During and after our up and down relationship.
I swear I felt the Holy Spirit in me, making the words come out of my mouth. (I grew up Christian but I am not a religious person) The things said weren’t things I was thinking, they just came out. Like I wasn’t in control. I was laying in bed, physically exhausted from involuntary body movements and tensing up, having trouble controlling my breath and crying. It felt like a possession but not in a demonic way at all. I felt an overwhelming sense of love and acceptance understanding and I kept repeating over and over “it’s real it’s all real”.
There was a moment where I verbalized from my conscious mind that I needed it out of my body because I couldn’t take it anymore. And suddenly, a wave came over me and forced out the words (while still recording to my ex) “you’re…you’re the one”. The way it was spoken out of my mouth was not in my control and it was not spoken in a normal flowing manner. I whole heartedly believe that. It was pushed out of me and the feeling rushed through my body so powerfully right after I said it, that it was so overwhelming I sobbed.
Then as I was coming down from it and finally relaxing, I received a message from my son’s dog, Teddy. And I cried as I spoke those words too. It was the wildest thing that’s ever happened to me.
I have been harping on this for days. I’m having a very hard time digesting it.
If I could attach a blip of the voice memo I would so you could hear the intensity of it.
submitted by id0ntevenkn0th0 to SpiritualAwakening [link] [comments]
This time around was unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. I had the usual “high” silly/random thoughts. Then it became spiritual. Like immensely powerful I can’t even describe the feeling.
I had my thumb pressed down on the voice memo record button for 40 minutes (to my ex boyfriend) while I word-vomited everything that was happening.
Keep in mind, we dated for 5 tumultuous years. Our anniversary was 2-22 and we saw the number 22 everywhere, every single day. During and after our up and down relationship.
I swear I felt the Holy Spirit in me, making the words come out of my mouth. (I grew up Christian but I am not a religious person) The things said weren’t things I was thinking, they just came out. Like I wasn’t in control. I was laying in bed, physically exhausted from involuntary body movements and tensing up, having trouble controlling my breath and crying. It felt like a possession but not in a demonic way at all. I felt an overwhelming sense of love and acceptance understanding and I kept repeating over and over “it’s real it’s all real”.
There was a moment where I verbalized from my conscious mind that I needed it out of my body because I couldn’t take it anymore. And suddenly, a wave came over me and forced out the words (while still recording to my ex) “you’re…you’re the one”. The way it was spoken out of my mouth was not in my control and it was not spoken in a normal flowing manner. I whole heartedly believe that. It was pushed out of me and the feeling rushed through my body so powerfully right after I said it, that it was so overwhelming I sobbed.
Then as I was coming down from it and finally relaxing, I received a message from my son’s dog, Teddy. And I cried as I spoke those words too. It was the wildest thing that’s ever happened to me.
I have been harping on this for days. I’m having a very hard time digesting it.
If I could attach a blip of the voice memo I would so you could hear the intensity of it.
2024.05.22 00:01 ikieneng My fanfiction - episode 4!
 | The next part is here! This episode is so long that I had to split it, and today, you're finally getting part 3 of 3. submitted by ikieneng to teamleanne [link] [comments] You can find the previous episodes in the side bar! (Community info page in the app) DISCLAIMERS (the same ones as before) The point of this fanfiction is not to be a straight-up continuation of events with the same themes, intensity, and tone. If you go into it with those expectations, you are probably not going to like it. Rather, it’s supposed to be how I wish things went if these events were real life. The resolution you want for a real-life situation isn’t often the right choice for a show, but it can be incredibly beautiful. Think of what you’re about to read to be a separate show then. Episode 1 of this fanfiction begins after the episode “2:00” (season 2 episode 4), so it replaces the episode “Cake” and the ones that follow it. This fanfiction expects you to have seen the entirety of seasons 1 and 2, so you should watch those first. I myself am bursting into the story here. The narrator and me are the same. While my character is like 95% real me, don’t take events about my life described here as facts. Some aspects of my life have been changed for the story. In my head, I started writing like an “alternate me” character in 2016, fulfilling a lot of the things that I wish I had in life, adding that to my story. I’m not really from Ukraine. I speak fluent Ukrainian as a foreign language, I started learning it in 2014, and I’ve talked to tons of people from there, but I’m not from Ukraine. I also don’t have as much money as I do in the story. I wish lmao. If you want to post your own fanfiction, feel free to do so! To get your own post flair for your fanfic, and to appear in the side bar, please message me. Part 3 (days 3 and 4) We’d wake up on day three, and still, nothing would be any different - we’re still locked up. We’d both feel really worried not knowing if we’ll have to forfeit our whole plan because we might run out of food and water and take the risky route - calling the police and getting ourselves into a situation where we’d have to be freed by force, which would be so dangerous because the Turners have proven that there’s nothing they’re not prepared to do to us to “get Jericho back”. Leanne would ask me “What do we do if we call the police, and Mrs. Turner comes up here and tries to hurt us?” At first, I’d insist that we start thinking about that when we do run out of food the next day, but she’d insist we should come up with a plan. I’d point at the corner on the edge of the attic facing Spruce Street, the corner that’s to one’s right when coming up into the attic, https://preview.redd.it/knoz0zwpou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=bd1694f292bb546ea45339ebecea7ffacfe33541 and say “Then you’d curl up and hide over there, and I’d take the radio, you’d take the metronome, and I’d sit down in front of you, shielding you, and if she gets in here before the cops do, we’ll defend ourselves. And we’d record everything on my phone. And we should probably hide behind the sofa. Maybe then, she might not notice we’re still up here at first. She’d probably be in a state of panic.” She’d look at me with sad, but touched eyes and just hug me and say thank you. I’d reply “Of course”. After some silence, I’d tell her “If anything happens to me… Please bring me back”. She’d be touched by that, but say that if she reanimates me, the Church of Lesser Saints will come after ME as well because they’ll believe that I’ll be obligated to join. With a worried smile, I’d say “I know... But they’re probably already gonna do that, right? Because I won’t let them get to you!” We’d both nod with the same half-happy, half-worried expression. “And if things go terribly wrong and you have to bring me back, we can try again!” I’d ask if I’m getting it right that the “great sins” they think she’s committing are not spending time with the Church and helping another family from the one that was assigned to her. She’d say yes and add that there’s a lot more they hate her for, like her “disobedient and rebellious streak”, disobeying their instructions, putting curses on people, and now, leaving the Marinos. https://preview.redd.it/4obn4r9uou1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1e77adafbde221c320999ba1169adb0a1c6b2b17 After a few seconds of silence (out of shock that this is how the Church of Lesser Saints frames it), I’d be like “If you disobey so many of their instructions, then...”, look her directly in the eyes, and go “Good! Keep on disobeying them! I’m actually kind of stunned that this is how they frame your actions, because that is so manipulative. Wanting to have a life where you don’t have to worry about your every step being watched and controlled, where you can actually freely explore what you believe – not what they tell you to believe, but what YOU believe, where you can do totally normal human things like listen to music, and where you can go wherever you want and make some basic decisions for yourself and work wherever you want, that doesn’t make you...” (doing the “quote-on-quote” with my hands while I say it) “quote-on-quote ‘disobedient’ or ‘rebellious’, it makes you a normal human being. If they forbid every little thing that people do that makes you happy, if you then look for happiness elsewhere, that’s on them. You can’t take every bit of joy away from people and then expect them to just deal with it. You wanting to run away, that’s the logical result of their bullshit. And you didn’t ‘leave’ the Marinos, you were taken. Don’t let them think you’re at fault in any way!” She might have never heard any verbal confirmation before that her feelings about leaving are valid, and this would be so reassuring to her. She’d tell me that whenever she did things like not be there for meals at the Church, skip assemblies, or curse people without permission, she would be brought before May and the rest of the community, get questioned about her behavior, and she’d have to self-flagellate to receive forgiveness. https://preview.redd.it/roex7c20pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=32cecf94a41a97e66b1c74967cb074ca89321777 I’d go really still and quiet when she mentions the self-flagellation, which she’d then explain is a frequent punishment. That would freaking break my heart... I’d ask her when was the last time she hurt herself, and it was a little less than two weeks ago, before she was forced to leave the Turners. Very carefully and quietly, I’d ask her if it would be okay if she can show me her scars and add “You do NOT have to if you’re not comfortable, PLEASE don’t do it if you’re not”, and after a second, she’d nod and show me her back. My heart would break for her even more seeing her scars, I’d just express how horrible it is that they made her do that… I’d show her some of my cut wounds from when I self-harmed, which I hadn’t done in like three and a half years at that point. I’d want her to know that way that I get the urge, that I really do, but I’d tell her that hurting oneself achieves nothing. All it does is make you feel horrible mentally and physically, and every time you do it, there’s a risk of infection and even death. I’d just tell her I understand while taking her in my arms. I’d ask her to please look me in the eyes and tell me she won’t hurt herself again, and that when she feels like doing it again, to please talk to me first. She’d quietly say “I promise” while looking me in the eyes, and after some longer embraces, we’d both smile a bit, that would make me really happy to hear! I’d ask that when we’re out of here, if we can call a doctor sometime soon and get them to look at her scars to make sure none of them are infected, if she’s comfortable enough, and she’d nod and smile at me a little bit some more. We’d eat after that. We’d run out of tomato soup that meal, and I’d tell her that when we’re getting out of there, I’d get her all the tomato soup in the world! “We’re gonna fill a whole hotel fridge with tomato soup!” “And with Ben & Jerry’s?”, she’d ask, and I’d say yes and say that we’re probably gonna need more than one fridge. I’d say we’re gonna pick the nicest and most expensive hotel to stay at, an idea that she’d love! “You still think Allentown is a good idea?”, I’d ask her, and she’d think my reasoning from the day before makes sense and say yes. We’d look for the nicest hotel in Allentown online and see that there are “only” three-star hotels in Allentown. Leanne would ask if getting such an expensive place to stay is really okay, and I’d say “Money is not an issue, don’t worry about it” while reaching across her back and like caressing her right shoulder, looking her in the eyes, and smiling. “And besides, let’s spoil you, you fucking deserve it after all this!” We wouldn’t book anything yet because we wouldn’t know when we can get out of there yet, but looking at all those insanely nice hotels would lift our spirits a bit. After eating the first half of that day’s rations (only two half day’s rations would be left after that…), we’d think that it would probably be a good idea if we started writing the document for the police right now. Writing it can take hours upon hours, and there’s no point in delaying the rescue to write the document after I leave if we can do it right now, so we’d begin right that moment. It would begin something like “My name is Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999 in Odesa, Ukraine, residing in 501 Pembroke Ave, Philadelphia 19050, Pennsylvania...” (I don’t live there. I have no idea who does. Please leave them alone lmao) “...I sent this statement to my Facebook friend Liam [...] (residing in Tipperary, Ireland, using Facebook as Liam [...]) as a PDF file and told him to call the Philadelphia police and read this statement to them if I don’t come back online and confirm that I’m okay by 10 PM Philadelphia time / 3 PM London, UK time on December 22, 2022. If he is reading this to you, it probably means that there was no sign of life from me by that time, and that I’m not safe, probably kidnapped and locked up by Dorothy Turner, Sean Turner, Julian (I’m not sure about his surname, but I’m referring to Dorothy Turner’s brother - redhead, not very tall, moderately overweight) in the attic of their residence at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania”, and then document everything I’ve seen in chronological order and everything that Leanne has told me, with a link to our video and photographic evidence, references to DNA evidence that can probably be found in the hole in the basement if they haven’t covered it up by now, and a statement at the end saying that I’ve written it together with Leanne to make sure that everything is correct. That would take a really long time, hours for sure. But when it’s done, I’d run spell- and grammar checks on it and send it to my printer at home, to be queued for printing when I get home and turn it on. We’d also know that today (December 21) or tomorrow will be the day when we leave one way or another, so I’d schedule a text message to 911 in 30 hours from that moment. The message would say “This is a scheduled message. If you’ve received it, then Leanne Grayson (born October 13, 2001)...” (We only ever learn Leanne’s birth year from the gravestone. October 13 is Nell Tiger Free’s birthday, so October 13, 2001 being Leanne’s birthday is kind of my headcanon) https://preview.redd.it/0hr9niq1pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=4dbead2015781ed8beee236188b8273aac1b3fb0 “...and me (Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999) are probably not safe, abducted and locked up against our will by Dorothy Turner, her brother Julian, and Sean Turner in the attic of their house at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania or somewhere else on the property. We need help immediately. The Turners should be considered dangerous and very clearly willing to use violence and intimidation. We need help NOW. Details in our prepared statement: [the link]”. Because we’re holding out hope that we won’t have to call the police from inside the attic, the document would include information on what our plan is to get Leanne (and me) out of there as safely as possible and call the police from the taxi, but that if we run out of rations, we won’t have a choice but to call the police while we’re unarmed and while the Turners still have the upper hand. We would debate whether we should include information about the Church of Lesser Saints right away or tell the police about them later because we know how that sounds, considering that this would hurt the credibility of our testimony, https://preview.redd.it/sinvabf3pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=e37811b53eb90cb8a066bfcb30f6244bb9f34ad4 but we’d modify the document and include the most important information about them as well, with more believable explanations - how they forced Leanne and other members to self-harm (meaning that current members or those who recently left), where they’re currently operating from in Lancaster, https://preview.redd.it/mxbm8445pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1f9b5f1c671c15afce7149eeb90926c2c29b9bdb that they faked their deaths, that they forced Leanne to leave the Turners, and the necessary lie that they took the real baby, and that Leanne hasn’t seen it since that day and doesn’t know where they’ve taken it. We’d also include names and stuff, and most importantly, reference the baptism tape and say that it shows May and George watching us from the sidewalk outside the church less than three weeks ago, and that piece of evidence would change everything in regards to investigating the Church of Lesser Saints and make the police believe us. We’d add that it’s probably among the other DVDs in the Turners’ living room, and that I’ll try to get it when leaving the building if our original plan is still going to be an option, rip the DVD at home, and add a link to the video file to the document. We’d modify the scheduled text message as well, and we’d charge both phones, mine first because the scheduled message is so important, but it’s an iPhone, so we could charge it to 100% rather quickly and then charge hers. And we’d add that we’d want the police to get Leanne’s things from the Marino estate. All her stuff being there would be further evidence that she was taken suddenly and against her will. We’d also add what number Leanne can be reached at for now with the Samsung Galaxy phone. And then, I’d send the document to Liam on all platforms where I know how to reach him, followed by a message to alert the authorities if I’m not back online confirming that we’re both okay in what’s now probably more like 29 hours, the phone number of the Philadelphia police, and caps at the beginning saying that it’s an actual emergency. Out of nowhere, I’d ask her if she’s seen “Titanic” lmao, and with her near total isolation growing up, she wouldn’t have seen it. “I’ve only seen movies on TV”. I’d be like “I can show you lots of movies if you want! I got several subscriptions to streaming services, and also a bunch of stuff offline on an external drive at home.” https://preview.redd.it/lr58woa7pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=63537b149270faeebb2c3f1be9ba2af0d259e1b7 Back on talking about “Titanic”, I’d tell her it’s wonderful and so freaking romantic, albeit over-the-top at times for sure and a bit overrated. It has that glossy feeling and some superficial characters to it that all James Cameron movies have, but it’s still really wonderful. After explaining the plot to her (since she’s grown up so isolated), I’d tell her about one scene that I’m thinking about a lot from time to time - near the end of the movie, when old Rose is done telling the researchers her story, she says that she doesn’t even have a picture of Jack, and that has hit me so hard from the first time I’ve seen the movie. https://preview.redd.it/96bgw8s8pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=476c1a4cbee498c26a0be4651ef83258f0aa7748 She has no physical memories of him, she can never see his face again, and she can never show people what he looked like. That just rips my heart. I’d ask Leanne if we can take some pictures together. We’d look pretty horrible because we haven’t been able to shower in days, but we wouldn’t care and take them anyway and really, genuinely smile so hard. I’d send them to her email address (leanne_grayson@icloud.com, that email address is on her resume in the show), https://preview.redd.it/frfz9e7apu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=1b65065ab622e71f52edc6e9b84a2974e7efe9cb manually sync my gallery with iCloud, and I’d send them to Liam. I’d ask what phone she got back at the Marinos’ and if she’s got any pictures of herself in her iCloud gallery, but she’d tell me she’s rarely ever taken pictures of herself, only for the resume she applied at the Turners’ for, and I’d be like “Whaaaaat? But you’re so beautiful!”, and she’d smile hard, a bit embarrassed. I’d look her straight in the eyes and say it again and say that I mean it for real, she is so incredibly beautiful! It’s probably so rare that anyone’s ever said that to her in her entire life (her mother definitely didn’t, and given that the Church of Lesser Saints believes that anything that feels good is dangerous, https://preview.redd.it/msylzejbpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=b343bf8d10b86f7c731eed3c8a5204460daec4d4 it’s rather unlikely that they did), Tobe saying it in “Balloon” might even have been the only time ever… https://preview.redd.it/jdce6tndpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=c9edaacd72634c3dbe7dbf29abcc84f2412a10d4 I’d then add “Inside AND out!”, and she’d smile some more in a bit of embarrassment and then look me in the eyes and say “You, too, Daria!”, and as you’d expect, I’d smile so hard and even with my eyes! It would be rather late by then, so we’d eat and listen to some more music together from the Spotify playlist I created for her and talk so much about what we’re hearing. After dinner, she’d bring the topic up on her own (this is kind of making fun of these fan theories) - she’d tell me that some in the Church of Lesser Saints think she’s the Devil or Lilith because of her rebelliousness, and how she’s inspired doubt in some people in the Church. I’d make such a weirded-out face. After realizing she’s serious, I’d say “If you are the Devil, then hail Satan! Like, seriously, if YOU are what God is threatening will happen if we don’t follow him, then that’s literally the weakest threat I’ve ever heard of. Then God is the villain here. We need more people like you in the world!” Shy as she still is, she’d still be almost embarrassed to hear this (she’s so not used to compliments), and I’d make it clear I’m serious, that I really think she’s fricking wonderful and the sweetest, and that she clearly has a huge heart full of so much love, and that she deserves so much better than what she’s ever experienced! Almost in denial, she’d see in my eyes that I really mean it and just smile and hug me, and then, we’d both smile even more! I’d rub her back a lot in that moment and promise her again that everything will be okay. “I’ll make sure of that!” After some more music together, knowing that tomorrow will be the day we leave, no matter which plan we’ll go with, we’d make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. Looking around, I’d realize I have to give her my earphones with a cord because the internal mic of my Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini is essentially useless. I’d tell her that when I call her the next day to tell her it’s safe to come downstairs now, she should answer the call, plug in the earphones, and then, it will take a few seconds until I can hear her, but then, it should be fine. We’d set a code phrase that I’ll mention to let her know if the Turners got me and it’s NOT safe to come down. She’d suggest “tomato soup”, and I’d smile and say yes, that’s gonna be our code phrase. “And if it IS safe to come down?”, she’d ask, and I’d suggest “ice cream”. I’d realize that we should probably find her fresh clothes in the attic and a coat right now, so as I said, it’s not too obvious that she’s been locked up for a long time the second she walks out of the door, because if she’s in dirty clothes or nightwear, with it being obvious that she hasn’t showered in days, and I get her out of there and into a taxi to drive off while I got a gun, it would look as if I was kidnapping her, so we’d find her a nice dress and coat up there, and I’d turn around and close my eyes while she puts it on, and when she’s done, I’d tell her again that she looks amazing! 😊 https://preview.redd.it/zp5gbjwfpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=777d2120f72b5002e2d5e5e9ffe4760ab2d5fada And she’d smile and thank me this time, sort of the way she says it to the makeup artist at the street fair in S3E5 “Tiger” in that typical way of hers that’s so adorable for real, https://preview.redd.it/fuu6x7ohpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=ec5f23b8de4568996bd6e4c706ab4f95b8f98063 and she’d look in my direction and say “You look really beautiful, too!”, really shy, before peeking me in the eyes for a moment, and we’d just look at each other for a moment. “Can I have your pictures?”, she’d ask me, and I’d say yeah, open my iPhone, and select ALL pictures of myself in my gallery and send them to her email address, and send her those that are too large via a Google Drive link (iCloud isn’t great for sharing files lol), and then, I’d take her Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini, download them all (which would take a while because that phone is ancient), and set one of the pictures we’ve taken together as her wallpaper, and then set it as my wallpaper on my iPhone as well! 😊 We’d consider if there’s anything else we’ve missed. She’d mention that parts of the floor screech, especially one tile, so when I sneak out, I gotta be careful on the stairs, especially with that one tile. https://preview.redd.it/nijqz08jpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=6f6756ae6c304a5f5133c21ef857e0f91c6c91d7 After a few seconds, she’d ask me if we wanna book a hotel now, and I’d smile and say sure! “Did you like any hotels in particular, out of the ones we looked at?” She’d say “The one with the big jacuzzi looks great” with big eyes and enthusiasm in her voice, like she does during some of her conversations with Tobe in S3E5 “Tiger”. “You’ve ever been in a jacuzzi?”, I’d ask her, and she’d go “Nooo, but I wanna try!” in the same tone, https://preview.redd.it/6rh2p63lpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=987a19161b85fe5ee6a500f452c168ba7dec961b and so, after lying down now, we’d look up which hotel she was talking about and book a two-room suite in that hotel in Allentown for three weeks. I’d add “So we can easily look out for each other, and so you’ll also have some privacy.”, and she’d smile and nod, that consideration would probably mean a lot to her. We’d then get ready for bed. For the next day, I’d get some better clothes as well and put them on while she’s turned around with her eyes closed. I’d take the last ration of food out of my backpack, put the clothes I just took off at the bottom of it, above Leanne’s Bible (the porcelain baby and card are already in one of the other pockets), and put my phone and the chargers in another pocket. I’d look around and ask her if there’s anything else I should take with me to safeguard, and at first, she’d also look around because she wouldn’t know how to answer right away, but she’d then point at Mrs. Barrington with her face, https://preview.redd.it/amqsh2mmpu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=12d0bfe376210a8798671d45f31e96e28037870b and I’d be like “Well, I think she’s a little too big for my backpack, but I can talk to the police when we’re out of here, maybe we can try to get her!”, and Leanne would nod with a big smile again. We’d lie down on the mattress and share the covers again. Just like the night before, I’d lie down on the side of the mattress that’s closer to the stairs, in case Dorothy changes her mind and tries to assault Leanne again… On the mattress, she’d suddenly hug me really tight, break into tears, and thank me over and over again, and I’d just hold her tight, say “Of course”, and assure her that everything’s gonna be okay, that we’ll get out of there tomorrow. I’d wipe some of her tears off her face 🥺 On the mattress, we’d just look each other in the eyes and both just smile more and more, and after a minute or two, she’d kiss me on the lips for a tiiiiny moment and then, we’d just smile at each other even harder! She’d say “I’m not supposed to do that” while still smiling just as hard and looking me directly in the eyes! “Says who?”, I’d reply. She goes “My aunts and uncles”, and I’d say “I don’t think they’re a reliable source!”, and we’d kiss each other some more and longer, and both feel each other’s smile on our lips, and peek at each other a few times in between 😊🥰❤️ We’d both put our arms around each other before telling each other good night and before I promise her one more time it’s all going to be okay! https://preview.redd.it/08fqmdqspu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=477498f6f3e6260f2a0429defebf98475b14eda1 At some point during the night, she’d wake me up, and when she does, I’d realize I had a nightmare, like, not from my night terrors, and she’d tell me I had a nightmare, that I was sniffling in my sleep, and that I told her two days earlier to wake me up if this happens. Still feeling terrible (the feeling of immediate dread always takes a while to subside for me), I’d thank her. I’d ask what I was saying, and she’d say that I wasn’t speaking English. I’d consider if I should tell her for a moment, but then, I’d take a deep breath, look up for a second, and with a heavy voice, slowly say “What if we try plan A tomorrow, and I fail? I’m scared… I don’t wanna mess this up… I don’t wanna fail you…” And she’d slowly look at me and just say two words: “You haven’t!” I’d look at her and almost laugh a bit out of joy. I’d smile and just cuddle up to her a bit, and she’d do it back. I’d say I’ll try to listen to music for a while to calm down because doing something else makes it much easier for me to zone out of the feeling of dread again. “Why only you?”, she’d ask. “I don’t wanna keep you awake”, I’d say, “You need the sleep”, and she’d say “It’s okay” and just smile a bit, and so, we’d listen to some music together for about half an hour. I’d tell her that my sleep is so horrible (she’d say she can tell) because I don’t have my meds, and I’m really fricking looking forward to taking them again. Without them, the quality of my sleep is terrible, and it takes so long for me to fall asleep at all if I don’t take them. She’d ask if I’ve taken them for a long time, and I’d say that I haven’t taken these particular meds for long because whatever I take, my body builds up some resistance to them pretty quickly, so after a while, I always have to get new ones, but I’ve taken sleeping meds for years now. “It sounds like they’re really helping you, right?”, she’d ask, and I’d nod and say “Yeah, they really do. I’m also taking antidepressants, and they were an absolute gamechanger for me. It’s okay if I don’t take them for a few days because they don’t work in the moment, but they like rewire your brain over time, and they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my mental health. Before I started taking them, it was so hard for me to avoid bad thoughts or resist them, like, it was hell, but ever since then, it got sooo much easier, and not letting things get to me or not letting bad things really take over me is just so much easier now.” After a while, I’d say “I was at a psychiatric clinic voluntarily for six months, but I also had nowhere else to go, and the doctors and employees really abused their power. They only intervened when there was physical violence, they didn’t intervene in any other conflicts, so because of them, the patients constantly bullied each other. My doctor switched to another department while I was there, so I got a new one, and the new one wasn’t perfect, but at least, she cared. I got really lucky to get a place at a living group for mentally ill people, which was when I could finally leave. But honestly, all my experiences with mental health professionals since then have been better. I went to a different clinic for four or five days voluntarily in 2019, and even they were far better. “That sounds scary…”, she’d say. I’d reply “It was. But things got much better after that. I had lots of setbacks, like, you know, but if you get help, it’s always better.” After the current song’s over, we’d lie down to try and sleep again. We’d smile at each other again in bed, and I’d give her a short-ish kiss before saying good night, and we’d both smile even harder after that 😁 And we would fall asleep for good after a while (it would still take me longer than her). In the morning, Leanne would wake me up again. She’d show me that the door is unlocked and open by a little bit now (they’re “letting” her out for a few hours…), https://preview.redd.it/sqql9udupu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=b2505bc6f7795639777433a1897f0d31e5753d67 and we’d both just embrace and chuckle in huge joy, as we can go with plan A now, the less risky one! We’d remember to quiet down after a few seconds and whisper from then on out. I’d go to the toilet roll, take eight pieces, rip them into two bands of four pieces each, and roll each of them up into a little bunch. I’d give them to her and tell her to put them into the wall pieces of the door when she gets out (so it looks like the door is closed while it can’t actually lock) and give me an audible signal when the third floor is clear, so I’ll get out with my backpack, take out the toilet paper, and hide in her room. https://preview.redd.it/bzze2o6wpu1d1.png?width=304&format=png&auto=webp&s=aaa155b611408db6e9960485f6f726125fc2698d “Is there anything you want me to get from there?”, I’d ask. “No. Everything is here or at the Marinos’.” I’d go “Okay” and move on - since I’m almost definitely unable to come down to the second floor right away (I’m using American English in all of these episodes. “First floor” in American English = “ground floor” in British English; “Second floor” in American English = “first floor” in British English; “Third floor” in American English = “second floor” in British English, etc.), she’d give me a signal when coming back upstairs. We’d agree that when she comes back upstairs, if it’s safe to go to the second floor, she’d shout something, maybe in conversation, maybe some sort of cry, doesn’t matter, and if not, she’d kick something. She’d be locked upstairs again after that, so I’ll have to tell when to get further downstairs myself, which I’d do as soon as I’ve heard absolutely no sounds from inside the house for at least a few minutes. On the first floor, I’d get the DVD from March 11, 2001, and if the baptism tape isn’t clearly labeled among the tapes, I’d unplug the DVD player from the TV, turn on the player, open the DVD slot, and if the tape isn’t in there, I’d take all unlabeled tapes. I’d then listen in on the basement door for a few seconds, and if I hear no sounds from down there, I’d quietly open the basement door and go downstairs, and if no one’s there, I’d get out through the side entrance down there, out through the back gate, walk back to Spruce Street, drive my bike home, take a shower, watch the tape from March 11, 2011 like she told me I could, hide it somewhere at home, print out the document for the police, take it with me in an envelope, print out a second version of it to give to the taxi driver, so I can say “If I’m not back in an hour, please call the police for me and read this to them”. I’d then call a taxi (a taxi with a large trunk whose driver is allowed to drive to Allentown and back), load my gun, and leave for the Turners’ and get Leanne. We’d see that Liam has replied by now. Of course, he’d be super worried, but he’s got our backs for the plan, and that would be really reassuring. We’d look each other in the eyes, and then, I’d hug her sooo tight for several seconds, and we’d have one loooong kiss (hoping it’s not the last time we see each other…) before she goes downstairs while looking back at me on the way before putting the toilet paper in the door. I’d then put on my backpack. Once Leanne loudly shouts “Mister Turner?”, that would be my signal, and I’d hide in her room for about 45 minutes before she’s “let” back upstairs and shouts “You can lock me in now, Mrs. Turner”, https://preview.redd.it/uy9loclypu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=16abd51170405f1ef3123ff22f4559642a0c0c92 which is when I’d sneak into the storage/guest room and wait. It would take like five hours until I hear nothing for a while, which is when I’d sneak onto the first floor, look around to make extra sure no one’s there, and go to the living room. I’d get the tape from March 11, 2011, and the baptism tape would be among the labeled DVDs, and I’d put it into the box of the March 11, 2011 tape (I’d put the original DVD loose in there and use the spot inside the box for the baptism tape because it’s probably more important. I then wouldn’t hear anything from the basement, so I’d slowly and quietly go down there. No one would be there, so I’d leave as planned and go home and take a shower. I’d watch the March 11, 2011 DVD. I’d be surprised to see the interaction between Leanne and Dorothy for sure, but sort of knowing her, I wouldn’t think anything bad of it. I’d actually get it because of my past celebrity crushes (which I know isn’t what she was feeling for Dorothy) and the desire to meet them, especially with Blanche. I’d get why Leanne wouldn’t want the police to see it, it would look bad for her. I’d wrap up the DVD in a thick piece of paper and tape it to the back of my closet, between the closet and the wall. I’d burn the piece of paper in the DVD case in my bathtub with a bucket of water next to me just in case. I’d test if the DVD of the baptism tape still works (it does), rip it, upload the video file to Google Drive, add it to the document for the police, cancel my printing queue, print the document (two versions of it. The one for the taxi driver would just have a short introduction at the beginning, like, that I’m the person who ordered the taxi), order the taxi, pack my things for the next couple of weeks and anything that Leanne might need, so I’d include any clothes that I think could fit her, and go to the taxi. I’d tell the driver to get me one block away from 9780 Spruce Street (which isn’t actually a real address, by the way) and wait there for me. Before leaving for the Turner house, I’d give him the envelope with his version of the letter for the police and tell him what I said I would tell him. I’d then get my backpack with the gun in it from my luggage in the trunk, and walk to the Turners’ house. I have already "written" so much more in my head, but I've now reached the end of what I've actually written down, so it will take longer until the next episode is out now! Hope you've enjooooyed this one! |
2024.05.22 00:01 Gossip-Luv2 Retrieved the content of Tweets on SLB's eccentricities - The Mythmaker’s Legacy - Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, I am the Greatest of Them All!
Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.
submitted by Gossip-Luv2 to BollyBlindsNGossip [link] [comments]
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.”
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
‘Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
‘I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
‘One should not waste food,’ he said.
‘I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.’
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
‘So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
‘A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
‘Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
‘No, not worthwhile.’
‘Are you interested in direction also?’
‘No, am not delusional.’
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
‘I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
‘What are you writing now?’
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
‘Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
‘But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.’
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
‘Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.’
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
‘If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
“It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.”
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
‘Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
‘Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
‘Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
‘Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
‘You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.’
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.’
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
‘What am I supposed to say if he asks?’
‘Make up something,’ I was told.
‘Why should I?’
‘You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
‘What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
‘We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
‘You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.’
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.
2024.05.22 00:01 Shybella_1114 Looking for a server to host your favorite game?
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2024.05.22 00:00 stinky__sack My deceased father visited me in my dreams
I copied and pasted from my Facebook post when I originally posted about the dream-
"I got to hug my dad last night.
We were in a room looking for something I'm not sure. Then it occurred to me, I said to him
"This is a dream isn't it?
"Yes"
"Because you died almost 2 years ago"
"Yes, I'm sorry" he walked towards me with his arms open and we hugged for awhile just standing there. Then we were walking down the sidewalk and I said
"This is really cool, because I know I'm dreaming, I can control it and this feels real so it's like I'm actually with you again"
Then I woke up. I've had several lucid dreams in my life but this one I'll never forget. I love you dad"
submitted by stinky__sack to Dreams [link] [comments]
"I got to hug my dad last night.
We were in a room looking for something I'm not sure. Then it occurred to me, I said to him
"This is a dream isn't it?
"Yes"
"Because you died almost 2 years ago"
"Yes, I'm sorry" he walked towards me with his arms open and we hugged for awhile just standing there. Then we were walking down the sidewalk and I said
"This is really cool, because I know I'm dreaming, I can control it and this feels real so it's like I'm actually with you again"
Then I woke up. I've had several lucid dreams in my life but this one I'll never forget. I love you dad"
2024.05.22 00:00 Affectionate_Bee1318 AITAH for hating my "best friend" for buying me a cheap gift?
I come from a family that is the typical middle class. My best friend, who I met in college, comes from a rich family. When you compare her living standards with mine, it's a huge difference. She keeps shopping for clothes and buys whatever she wants for herself. I, on the other hand, keep repeating the same 4 outfits. I've never felt animosity against her for this. I mean, it's her good luck and I'm happy for her. I do, however, feel extremely used up because I've always given her way more than I have received in almost every situation. This incident, however, has really been bothering me. For other times, I just try to come up with the excuse that she's just naive. Our birthdays coincide and we bought presents for each other. I bought a top for her, in black. It was of a high-end brand. I personally had never worn that brand because it's too expensive for me. But I saved up for her because she always talked about how she wanted to own something from that brand. When it came to her, however, she gave me a black shirt. I wanted a black shirt since a long time. I loved that gift! However, a few days later, she came with a gift from another one of her friends. It was a dress. She was whining. She said that she would never wear something from that brand. She said that it was ugly and was really cheap (yes, she checked its price online). She went on and on about how she gave that girl a sweater from a high end brand, which was really expensive. She also whined about how that girl wears good brands herself but gave her that "cheap" dress. It suddenly struck me. She gave me a shirt from a brand that she would herself never wear. From what I know about this brand, the shirt must have been really cheap too. I didn't talk to her about it but it got me wondering something. Someone with so much more money than me was willing to invest just that much in me. I, on the other hand, saved up for her to get her something that she'd love. Maybe it's not about the brand. Maybe something else. Is it the fact that she was willing to buy that girl a high-end brand because that girl had the financial means to give something equally expensive to her but not to me because she knew what I could afford? I don't know. What hurt me is that I see her as my best friend. I would expect her to treat me better than she would treat her other friends. But I guess that it was all just monetary... I don't know why it hurts me so much. AITA for feeling this way?
submitted by Affectionate_Bee1318 to AITAH [link] [comments]
2024.05.22 00:00 AutoModerator PrimeTime Worthy - What player(s) are worthy tonight?!
Hey guys!
An awesome idea from the one and only legendary u/Shutout3111 !
This is.... " a thread to call out notable stuff that people see while watching the night's slate of games. Might be that EK65 racked up a goal and an assist or it might be that a goalie from your local OHL team pulled off a incredible save that might otherwise be missed by most people. "
Honestly, what an awesome idea!
Please leave these requirements for a PT worthy card... who knows, maybe it will help that player get a sweet OVR card!
- A link / gif of the play (optional)
- A description of what happened in the game to make them get this performance
- The date this happened (you can reference old games, if you wish... but specific for todays will probably be more beneficial.)
Lets see what players people can come up with that are PT worthy!
Feel free to share, below!
submitted by AutoModerator to NHL_HUltimateTeam [link] [comments]
An awesome idea from the one and only legendary u/Shutout3111 !
This is.... " a thread to call out notable stuff that people see while watching the night's slate of games. Might be that EK65 racked up a goal and an assist or it might be that a goalie from your local OHL team pulled off a incredible save that might otherwise be missed by most people. "
Honestly, what an awesome idea!
Please leave these requirements for a PT worthy card... who knows, maybe it will help that player get a sweet OVR card!
- A link / gif of the play (optional)
- A description of what happened in the game to make them get this performance
- The date this happened (you can reference old games, if you wish... but specific for todays will probably be more beneficial.)
Lets see what players people can come up with that are PT worthy!
Feel free to share, below!
2024.05.22 00:00 DellDorito How to express love language
My ex and i broke up about a month ago and one of the main reasons was that I never spoke her love languages, which are words of affirmation and quality time. Now before you say anything, I never really complimented her throughout our relationship (1yr). I would rarely call her pretty or compliment her and when I did, it was usually too late (I was never raised with words of affirmation so it's hard for me to express it). I understand these are like the basic foundations to a relationship and she has brought this up a lot and I've been improving throughout our relationship, but obviously not enough if we are separated now. Ive been spending the last 2 months working on myself like hitting the gym 5 times a week, reading books, and learning about her love languages.
Her and I are going on a trip together in a month, it's going to be a week-long road trip in another country where we will be car camping and staying in air bnbs (we planned this pre-breakup and we have agreed to still go) (please do not tell me that I shouldn't go and whatnot. After our week-long trip, she will be headed to another country for another trip with her best friend for about a month. A few weeks ago when I stayed the night at her house, she told me that she will wait for me (as in to better myself and change) (and I understand that I shouldn't change for her and I'm not. I've been changing unhealthy habits of mine that she has brought up and I am generally happy that I am doing these things).
My question is: how can I show her that I have been working on words of affirmation while on our trip. I don't want to overdo it to the extent where she goes on her other trip with baggage.
TLDR: We broke up because I wasn't expressing her love languages and I have been working on it. How can I show her that I have improved while on our trip together?
submitted by DellDorito to LoveLanguages [link] [comments]
Her and I are going on a trip together in a month, it's going to be a week-long road trip in another country where we will be car camping and staying in air bnbs (we planned this pre-breakup and we have agreed to still go) (please do not tell me that I shouldn't go and whatnot. After our week-long trip, she will be headed to another country for another trip with her best friend for about a month. A few weeks ago when I stayed the night at her house, she told me that she will wait for me (as in to better myself and change) (and I understand that I shouldn't change for her and I'm not. I've been changing unhealthy habits of mine that she has brought up and I am generally happy that I am doing these things).
My question is: how can I show her that I have been working on words of affirmation while on our trip. I don't want to overdo it to the extent where she goes on her other trip with baggage.
TLDR: We broke up because I wasn't expressing her love languages and I have been working on it. How can I show her that I have improved while on our trip together?
2024.05.21 23:59 bunnygirl1716 Fever swollen lymph node, and night sweats for 10+ days, should I be concerned?
Hi I am a 24F 5'4, 140 lbs, and live in USA. No existing medical issues, no smoking or recreational drugs.
I have been having fevers off and on for the past 10 days with the highest getting to 101 as well as night sweats and one swollen lymph node on my left cervical neck. COVID, Flu, RSV, and Mono negative. Should I be concerned? I am also so fatigued I have trouble finishing a shift at work.
submitted by bunnygirl1716 to AskDocs [link] [comments]
I have been having fevers off and on for the past 10 days with the highest getting to 101 as well as night sweats and one swollen lymph node on my left cervical neck. COVID, Flu, RSV, and Mono negative. Should I be concerned? I am also so fatigued I have trouble finishing a shift at work.
2024.05.21 23:58 cestlamort_ boss keeps scheduling me outside my availability
I just started this new job 2 weeks ago and was super excited because it looks good on my resume, and it was a fresh start after leaving a not so great job. I’m also a student taking online classes so my availability is limited and I gave my availability to my boss at orientation. However, she scheduled me every single day that first week and I finally snapped and said something the second week when I saw she was about to do it again. She asked me to call her and expressed she wanted to schedule everyone respectfully. We went through the entire month of May and I felt she responded well. The rest of last week followed my availability. However, I’m realizing she changed my schedule again for this week adding on a day I said no to and an extra hour on a day where I said I could only do mornings. That extra hour will make it so I have no time for lunch before I go to volunteer at the local children’s hospital, and it may even make me late. I’ve built a very strong rapport with the hospital over the last four months and do not want to damage that because my boss is inhibiting my ability to go there. Thankfully, volunteering is super flexible but showing up late/calling in/changing when I’ll come in every single week would not look good. I don’t get paid to volunteer but I want to work there one day, so this connection is super important to me. I also fear this will effect my schoolwork which is a big no no. I just made the dean’s list and don’t want to lose that. I do think she is just struggling to juggle everyone, but I’m also like is she messing with me?? We JUST talked about this! She’s very nice to talk to and such, but she’s not respecting my time. I am hesitant to quit because I really do enjoy the job and it’s good for my overall career. But it’s only been two weeks and it’s already a persistent issue. My career will disappear altogether if I can’t do well in school or damage my best connection. One of the main reasons I applied for this job besides building my resume was the flexibility it advertised. Idk what to do or how to address this again without sounding as peeved as I am. Is this really something I’ll have to remind her of every week? I know if I just don’t show up it’s an immediate fire, so there has to be a better way. I’ve never been fired from a job and would like to keep it that way. Do I go over her head? Do I leave? Are we at that point? Do I keep trying? Help!
submitted by cestlamort_ to Advice [link] [comments]
2024.05.21 23:58 Own_Cress9284 illegal unit- California
Hello,
For context I have been living in a one bedroom apartment in Los Angeles for over a year, my lease is currently month to month. Today I had someone from the housing department do an inspection and he informed me that the unit I'm in is supposed to a Studio apartment and that the landlord doesn't have the permits for the layout. He said my unit shouldn't have a stove. He said if they try to kick me out I shouldn't follow suit and it'd be to my benefit to wait and get relocation assistance, my main concern is that since my lease is month to month can't they technically terminate my lease whenever they want? But I'm also not sure what the legalities are since it seems like I've been living in a unit without the proper permits for over a year.
Seems like a wonky situation and I haven't found much online, any guidance on next steps or advice would be appreciated!
submitted by Own_Cress9284 to TenantHelp [link] [comments]
For context I have been living in a one bedroom apartment in Los Angeles for over a year, my lease is currently month to month. Today I had someone from the housing department do an inspection and he informed me that the unit I'm in is supposed to a Studio apartment and that the landlord doesn't have the permits for the layout. He said my unit shouldn't have a stove. He said if they try to kick me out I shouldn't follow suit and it'd be to my benefit to wait and get relocation assistance, my main concern is that since my lease is month to month can't they technically terminate my lease whenever they want? But I'm also not sure what the legalities are since it seems like I've been living in a unit without the proper permits for over a year.
Seems like a wonky situation and I haven't found much online, any guidance on next steps or advice would be appreciated!
2024.05.21 23:58 Due_Town2832 I accidentally walked out of a team meeting at work
I (24F) just got home and I cried to my dad about it because I feel embarrassed and guilty about it.
For context, I had an argument with my boyfriend last night and we ended up okay but my self esteem had gone really low. When he scrolls he likes girl’s photos on instagram and he said it’s unintentional and he’s really sorry and went to his activities and unliked all the recent ones. I didn’t get much sleep last night, probably 3 or 4.
When I drove into work this morning I thought i had an event at 1 with the whole team but after looking through my emails I realized this was next week. I thought this was weird because there was a team brainstorming session happening that same day.
I set myself to leave the office at 1 to continue working at home. My team is very small and when I stood up to leave they waved me goodbye but they asked me about brainstorming ideas. I thought this was weird and I told them what I thought and they said bye to me again.
I was driving home and half way, it clicked me that the brainstorming meeting was happening at 1 today AS I WAS LEAVING. I called my manager and told her I was so sorry and she said she was curious why I left.
When i got home i sent an email saying how sorry i was and that this never happened to me before. I wrote down my brainstorming ideas and i apologized again asking everyone to look past this and i hope they didn’t think I was walking out because i didn’t care. I didn’t make any excuses of why or how much sleep I got.
I feel so terrible. I feel like they already don’t like me because I don’t work closely with them and that I’m younger and less experienced and maybe I don’t care as much as they do ( I work in nonprofit) I think this is the cherry on top. I can’t stop thinking about it and I wish i could just leave my job and start all over again.
submitted by Due_Town2832 to hsp [link] [comments]
For context, I had an argument with my boyfriend last night and we ended up okay but my self esteem had gone really low. When he scrolls he likes girl’s photos on instagram and he said it’s unintentional and he’s really sorry and went to his activities and unliked all the recent ones. I didn’t get much sleep last night, probably 3 or 4.
When I drove into work this morning I thought i had an event at 1 with the whole team but after looking through my emails I realized this was next week. I thought this was weird because there was a team brainstorming session happening that same day.
I set myself to leave the office at 1 to continue working at home. My team is very small and when I stood up to leave they waved me goodbye but they asked me about brainstorming ideas. I thought this was weird and I told them what I thought and they said bye to me again.
I was driving home and half way, it clicked me that the brainstorming meeting was happening at 1 today AS I WAS LEAVING. I called my manager and told her I was so sorry and she said she was curious why I left.
When i got home i sent an email saying how sorry i was and that this never happened to me before. I wrote down my brainstorming ideas and i apologized again asking everyone to look past this and i hope they didn’t think I was walking out because i didn’t care. I didn’t make any excuses of why or how much sleep I got.
I feel so terrible. I feel like they already don’t like me because I don’t work closely with them and that I’m younger and less experienced and maybe I don’t care as much as they do ( I work in nonprofit) I think this is the cherry on top. I can’t stop thinking about it and I wish i could just leave my job and start all over again.
2024.05.21 23:58 anonbaa I thought I was thriving postpartum.. but I now think I have postpartum rage.
Writing this is so incredibly hard, but I truly feel at a complete loss. I don’t know what to do anymore, so I figured why not vent to some strangers on the internet.
I’m 8 weeks postpartum with my second baby. This little one is quite different than my first and I always found it a bit difficult but thought I was managing. My first was not at all clingy, I was able to put her down in her swing or bassinet to get done whatever I needed to. My first also was sleeping through the night at 2 months old. My newborn on the other hand.. is quite the opposite. I’m a SAHM mom and every nap with her is a contact nap. Every. Single. Nap. I thought it would be as easy as replicating what I did with my first & she would fall in line but clearly I was naive and mistaken. My newborn is also overall more fussy and at times I find it so difficult to manage. I noticed early on I’d start to feel overwhelmed and frustrated, however it has only gotten worst and more intense. Today for example, was the most difficult days I’ve had with her- with what felt like non stop crying for 10 hours, broken up by lousy 20 minute naps. It’s worth nothing this is very unusual for her. This lead to me being flooded with anger and impatience all throughout the day. I found myself having to put her in the bassinet while I went across the house to the bathroom to just scream and cry. All day I couldn’t shake the thoughts of wanting to punch a wall, scream, throw something, run away, etc.
It’s humiliating writing this and I feel like a monster. This is supposed to be a time of bliss and my newborn crying makes me feel so overwhelmed to the point of wanting to lash out aggressively? (Not towards her). Any advice is welcome and appreciated. Does this sound like post partum rage?
submitted by anonbaa to beyondthebump [link] [comments]
I’m 8 weeks postpartum with my second baby. This little one is quite different than my first and I always found it a bit difficult but thought I was managing. My first was not at all clingy, I was able to put her down in her swing or bassinet to get done whatever I needed to. My first also was sleeping through the night at 2 months old. My newborn on the other hand.. is quite the opposite. I’m a SAHM mom and every nap with her is a contact nap. Every. Single. Nap. I thought it would be as easy as replicating what I did with my first & she would fall in line but clearly I was naive and mistaken. My newborn is also overall more fussy and at times I find it so difficult to manage. I noticed early on I’d start to feel overwhelmed and frustrated, however it has only gotten worst and more intense. Today for example, was the most difficult days I’ve had with her- with what felt like non stop crying for 10 hours, broken up by lousy 20 minute naps. It’s worth nothing this is very unusual for her. This lead to me being flooded with anger and impatience all throughout the day. I found myself having to put her in the bassinet while I went across the house to the bathroom to just scream and cry. All day I couldn’t shake the thoughts of wanting to punch a wall, scream, throw something, run away, etc.
It’s humiliating writing this and I feel like a monster. This is supposed to be a time of bliss and my newborn crying makes me feel so overwhelmed to the point of wanting to lash out aggressively? (Not towards her). Any advice is welcome and appreciated. Does this sound like post partum rage?
- also I’d greatly appreciate any tips on getting my newborn to take naps during the day in her bassinet. Everytime I lay her down her eyes pop open and she seems nearly impossible to soothe IN the bassinet like people always suggest. And taking her out, soothing, and putting her back in always causes the same cycle which ends in me having an overtired baby who’s going to scream for the next 20-40 minutes.
2024.05.21 23:58 throwawaygang609 Never a good time to apply to helper positions? - NJ
I’m enrolled in a 4 year adult night class program at my local tech school. Most people in my class are already employed and way more experienced. For the past like year and a half every company I talk to says there either not looking for helpers or to come back at ___ month/season.
In the fall they say it’s too slow, in the winter they say try in the spring, in the spring they say it’s slow, now it’s almost June and most of them say they already hired a summer helper. Mind you a lot of these are the same companies that I’ve been trying at, I come back when they tell me to but it never seems like a good time. I talked to people in my class none of them were much help and basically tell me what the companies I talk to tell me. idk what to do.
Also I’m not just applying online, I’ve been calling and even showing up in person to drop off my resume.
submitted by throwawaygang609 to HVAC [link] [comments]
In the fall they say it’s too slow, in the winter they say try in the spring, in the spring they say it’s slow, now it’s almost June and most of them say they already hired a summer helper. Mind you a lot of these are the same companies that I’ve been trying at, I come back when they tell me to but it never seems like a good time. I talked to people in my class none of them were much help and basically tell me what the companies I talk to tell me. idk what to do.
Also I’m not just applying online, I’ve been calling and even showing up in person to drop off my resume.
2024.05.21 23:58 Own_Cress9284 illegal unit- California
Hello,
For context I have been living in a one bedroom apartment in Los Angeles for over a year, my lease is currently month to month. Today I had someone from the housing department do an inspection and he informed me that the unit I'm in is supposed to a Studio apartment and that the landlord doesn't have the permits for the layout. He said my unit shouldn't have a stove. He said if they try to kick me out I shouldn't follow suit and it'd be to my benefit to wait and get relocation assistance, my main concern is that since my lease is month to month can't they technically terminate my lease whenever they want? But I'm also not sure what the legalities are since it seems like I've been living in a unit without the proper permits for over a year.
Seems like a wonky situation and I haven't found much online, any guidance on next steps or advice would be appreciated!
submitted by Own_Cress9284 to Renters [link] [comments]
For context I have been living in a one bedroom apartment in Los Angeles for over a year, my lease is currently month to month. Today I had someone from the housing department do an inspection and he informed me that the unit I'm in is supposed to a Studio apartment and that the landlord doesn't have the permits for the layout. He said my unit shouldn't have a stove. He said if they try to kick me out I shouldn't follow suit and it'd be to my benefit to wait and get relocation assistance, my main concern is that since my lease is month to month can't they technically terminate my lease whenever they want? But I'm also not sure what the legalities are since it seems like I've been living in a unit without the proper permits for over a year.
Seems like a wonky situation and I haven't found much online, any guidance on next steps or advice would be appreciated!
2024.05.21 23:58 Dean51113 Help me please!
I feel like I’m going crazy. Nobody understands what I’m going through or how I’m feeling right now. I have severe health anxiety, and I’m currently going through a health problem that is scaring the crap out of me. I visited the dr last week due to problems I have been having, my left testicle had become larger than my right one, and I was getting an aching pain and swelling in my scrotum. This is following previous issues that I had which included feelings of needing a wee, pretty much straight after finishing, and feeling like there was wee still in the tip of my penis and feeling like it was going to dribble out. The dr told me that he thought I had a case of Epididymytis and prescribed me a two week course on Doxycycline. I have been on the antibiotics over - a week now, and still every night without fail I’m getting the same dull ache in my testicles, in my groin and into my pelvis, and whenever I research this on google, it is telling me that it’s testicular cancer, bladder cancer, prostate cancer, colon cancer, pancreatic cancer, literally every cancer and I’m scared to death! The dr has sent a referral to the hospital for an ultrasound of my testicles also but I still haven’t been contacted yet to get booked in for this, and I just feel like I’m waiting around, that I’ve got cancer and that I’m going to die and I’m scared to death. Sorry to vent, but I just don’t know what to do, the waiting around is horrible, I just can’t stop worrying that I’ve got cancer, and I just feel like I’m in a constant state of panic.
30 male white UK
submitted by Dean51113 to menshealth [link] [comments]
30 male white UK
2024.05.21 23:58 Get_Drivers_Ed Pass Your Driving Test With Get Drivers Ed Now
 | https://preview.redd.it/8kh9gxo4qu1d1.jpg?width=1196&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=377e7451e172b40f9423842a4a9b9554681054d5 submitted by Get_Drivers_Ed to u/Get_Drivers_Ed [link] [comments] Are You Ready to Pass? Understanding Driving Test Marking, Faults, and ResultsPassing the driving test is a pivotal moment for any aspiring driver. It marks the transition from learning to becoming a licensed driver. At Get Drivers Ed, we understand that preparing for this test involves more than just knowing how to operate a vehicle; it's about understanding the intricacies of the test itself—how it's marked, the common faults that lead to failure, and what results mean for you. This blog post will delve into these aspects to ensure you are fully prepared to pass your driving test.The Structure of the Driving TestBefore we explore the marking criteria, it’s important to understand the structure of the driving test. Typically, it consists of two parts:Theory Test: This includes a set of multiple-choice questions and a hazard perception test. The theory test assesses your understanding of road signs, traffic laws, and safe driving practices. It ensures that you have the necessary knowledge to make informed decisions while driving. Practical Driving Test: This is an on-road test where you will be tested on your ability to handle the car safely and correctly in various road and traffic conditions. The practical test evaluates your real-world driving skills, including vehicle control, observation, and decision-making. At Get Drivers Ed, our comprehensive courses cover both these aspects thoroughly to ensure you’re well-prepared. We provide extensive resources and practice materials to help you succeed in the theory test, and our practical training sessions are designed to build your confidence and competence on the road. How Driving Tests Are MarkedThe practical driving test is marked based on your ability to drive safely and independently while adhering to the rules of the road. Examiners look for a wide range of skills:Control and Vehicle Handling: Your ability to control the vehicle smoothly, including steering, braking, and accelerating. Proper vehicle handling is crucial for safe driving, and examiners will be looking for precise control in various situations. https://preview.redd.it/twj226e7qu1d1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f8f3c8db964bfd22bbe584ab32d24e5fd59e472c Observation and Awareness: Your ability to observe the road, recognize potential hazards, and respond appropriately. Good observation skills involve constant scanning of the road and surroundings, checking mirrors, and being aware of other road users. https://preview.redd.it/fgn8f6p7qu1d1.jpg?width=800&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b38a5a4ceddbcda3f3a9506d91eab7ca8868a2d1 Following Directions: Your ability to follow the directions given by the examiner accurately. This includes understanding and responding to verbal instructions, road signs, and signals. https://preview.redd.it/147o4d28qu1d1.jpg?width=550&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=055ba54b288f3effd3125838ff3c7b6ed852e420 Independent Driving: Your ability to drive without guidance, following road signs or a set route. This part of the test assesses your capability to make decisions and navigate independently. https://preview.redd.it/7r8il4h8qu1d1.jpg?width=1440&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b9bf5551f78d2a6bebe189adddb8cb33868b49cd Each of these categories has specific criteria that must be met to pass the test. At Get Drivers Ed, our instructors emphasize these skills in our training sessions, ensuring that you know exactly what examiners are looking for. Understanding Faults During the driving test, faults are categorized into three types: Minor Faults: These do not directly impact safety but could lead to a more serious fault if repeated. You are allowed a certain number of minor faults; however, accumulating too many will result in failing the test. Examples include slight hesitation or minor errors in judgment. Major Faults: These are serious faults that have potential safety implications or break traffic laws. A single major fault is enough to fail a driving test. Examples include failing to give way or making an incorrect lane change. Dangerous Faults: These involve actual danger to you, the examiner, the public, or property. Like major faults, one dangerous fault will result in failure. Examples include running a red light or causing a near-miss accident. In our comprehensive course at Get Drivers Ed, we use simulated test scenarios to teach students how to avoid these faults, focusing on precise and mindful driving. Our instructors provide detailed feedback on your performance, helping you to identify and correct any weaknesses. Tips to Avoid Common Faults To give you an edge, here are some tips to avoid common faults: Stay Calm and Focused: Nerves can affect your driving. Practice relaxation techniques and stay focused on the task at hand. Breathing exercises, visualization, and positive thinking can help you remain calm during the test. Regular Checks: Constantly check your mirrors and blind spots for any hazards. Good observation habits are essential for safe driving and can prevent many common faults. Follow Instructions: Pay close attention to the test examiner’s directions and follow them carefully. Ensure you understand each instruction before proceeding and ask for clarification if needed. Practice, Practice, Practice: Regular practice in various driving conditions is crucial. The more experience you gain, the more comfortable and confident you will become. Are You Ready to Pass?Being ready for the driving test means being prepared to demonstrate competent and safe driving practices consistently. At Get Drivers Ed, we ensure you are test-ready by providing detailed feedback and personalized coaching throughout your training. Our instructors work with you to address any areas of concern and build your confidence on the road.Conclusion Understanding the marking criteria, recognizing the faults, and knowing how to avoid them are crucial steps toward passing your driving test. With Get Drivers Ed, you’re not just learning to drive; you're preparing to pass. Our comprehensive training program equips you with the knowledge, skills, and confidence needed to succeed. Enroll in our course today and take the first step towards driving success. Remember, preparation is the key to success, and with Get Drivers Ed, you're always ready to pass! Let us help you achieve your goal of becoming a safe, confident, and competent driver. |
2024.05.21 23:57 MrSharkTank These guys LOVE Value Town (#6VGNE)! Come join and find out why! 1900!!+ members! INSTANT Cash Outs! $1000 WEEKLY Freeroll with $480 in Cash Games BONUSES! DAILY games from 2PM - 3 AM EST! Balance Updates after every game! Nobody else does it like us!
 | submitted by MrSharkTank to pokerrrr2 [link] [comments] |
2024.05.21 23:57 Noodle235 Apple Music app not playing on at all on windows 11?
Since about 2 days ago my Apple Music app on my PC stopped working, not playing any music, just for ONLINE songs showing the “timeline” bar (to skip to certain parts of song etc) at the top of the app when clicking to play a song, but for DOWNLOADED songs, they don’t show up at the top at all and it’ll stay the same
I’ve redownloaded the app and restarted my PC and tried reauthorising my device, apple support gave me a tip by removing somethings in a file but that didn’t work
Any one have any solutions or suggestions?
submitted by Noodle235 to AppleMusic [link] [comments]
I’ve redownloaded the app and restarted my PC and tried reauthorising my device, apple support gave me a tip by removing somethings in a file but that didn’t work
Any one have any solutions or suggestions?
2024.05.21 23:57 Dean51113 Help me please!
I feel like I’m going crazy. Nobody understands what I’m going through or how I’m feeling right now. I have severe health anxiety, and I’m currently going through a health problem that is scaring the crap out of me. I visited the dr last week due to problems I have been having, my left testicle had become larger than my right one, and I was getting an aching pain and swelling in my scrotum. This is following previous issues that I had which included feelings of needing a wee, pretty much straight after finishing, and feeling like there was wee still in the tip of my penis and feeling like it was going to dribble out. The dr told me that he thought I had a case of Epididymytis and prescribed me a two week course on Doxycycline. I have been on the antibiotics over - a week now, and still every night without fail I’m getting the same dull ache in my testicles, in my groin and into my pelvis, and whenever I research this on google, it is telling me that it’s testicular cancer, bladder cancer, prostate cancer, colon cancer, pancreatic cancer, literally every cancer and I’m scared to death! The dr has sent a referral to the hospital for an ultrasound of my testicles also but I still haven’t been contacted yet to get booked in for this, and I just feel like I’m waiting around, that I’ve got cancer and that I’m going to die and I’m scared to death. Sorry to vent, but I just don’t know what to do, the waiting around is horrible, I just can’t stop worrying that I’ve got cancer, and I just feel like I’m in a constant state of panic.
30 male white UK
submitted by Dean51113 to testicularcancer [link] [comments]
30 male white UK
2024.05.21 23:56 KupferTitan I need some input on a slight problem I'm facing, it's a little out of the box though
I have somewhat of a philosophical question for you all. In my world, there was an event where the gods opened portals to the realm between universes, allowing creatures from other universes into my world. So basically, there are races from my world as well as those from The Elder Scrolls, other D&D campaigns, or different worlds entirely. A colleague I am playing D&D with asked if I could incorporate his character into my world if he wrote up some lore for me, and I agreed under certain conditions.
So, anyways, that's the situation. My question is: How do you think a change like that would affect species such as the Khajiit from The Elder Scrolls? The Khajiit rely on the moons Jone and Jode to determine what type of Khajiit is being born, and while my world has a moon or two, they aren't the ones from their home world. The same goes for species like the Argonians, as they depend on the Hist for procreation.
Of course, we could also apply this question to other beings as well. Just think about how creatures from your world would react if they ended up in a different world with different gods and different rules all of a sudden.
I kind of need some input on this, as I plan to implement my role-play characters from The Elder Scrolls Online into my world, as well as some other races from different games or universes.
Thanks for your insights!
submitted by KupferTitan to worldbuilding [link] [comments]
So, anyways, that's the situation. My question is: How do you think a change like that would affect species such as the Khajiit from The Elder Scrolls? The Khajiit rely on the moons Jone and Jode to determine what type of Khajiit is being born, and while my world has a moon or two, they aren't the ones from their home world. The same goes for species like the Argonians, as they depend on the Hist for procreation.
Of course, we could also apply this question to other beings as well. Just think about how creatures from your world would react if they ended up in a different world with different gods and different rules all of a sudden.
I kind of need some input on this, as I plan to implement my role-play characters from The Elder Scrolls Online into my world, as well as some other races from different games or universes.
Thanks for your insights!
2024.05.21 23:56 Expensive-Mastodon-5 The Dissonance Collection
 | This art collection chronicles the harrowing journey of an individual's mental decline, exploring themes of memory, identity, and the struggle for coherence in the face of overwhelming mental illness. Through seven phases, each artwork vividly portrays different stages of the protagonist's psychological unraveling, from initial doubts to complete cognitive disintegration. submitted by Expensive-Mastodon-5 to drawing [link] [comments] Is Something Wrong? "Is Something Wrong?" explores the initial unease and creeping awareness of something amiss. The artwork features disjointed, jumbled phrases and fragmented images that evoke a sense of confusion and foreboding. The stark, unsettling background serves to amplify the feelings of anxiety and uncertainty, suggesting the beginning of a descent into mental turmoil. This piece sets the stage for the emotional and psychological journey that follows, capturing the first inklings of distress and disorientation. Persistent Retrograde Insomnia "Persistent Retrograde Insomnia" delves into the relentless nature of sleeplessness and the toll it takes on the mind. The artwork is a chaotic mix of overlapping text and symbols, with clocks, eyes, and fragmented phrases creating a sense of relentless wakefulness. The dark, oppressive background mirrors the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a cycle of insomnia, unable to find rest. This piece vividly portrays the exhaustion and desperation that accompany chronic sleeplessness, highlighting the struggle to maintain sanity in the face of persistent wakefulness. The Contained Chaotic Insanity of My Head "The Contained Chaotic Insanity of My Head" captures the intense inner turmoil and disorder within the mind. This artwork is a riot of colors, shapes, and erratic lines, representing the chaotic thoughts and emotions that are barely held in check. The stark contrast between the vibrant chaos and the subdued background emphasizes the internal struggle to maintain control. This piece is a visceral representation of the mental battles and the effort required to keep chaos contained within. Fleeting Glimpses of What Was "Fleeting Glimpses of What Was" evokes a sense of nostalgia and loss, depicting fleeting memories that slip through the mind like sand through fingers. The artwork features ghostly, ethereal images and faded text, suggesting memories that are just out of reach. The muted color palette and soft, blurred lines convey a sense of fading clarity and the bittersweet nature of remembering what once was. This piece encapsulates the sorrow and beauty of fleeting memories and the longing for a past that can never be fully recaptured. Eclipsing Sanity "Eclipsing Sanity" portrays the full loss of mental clarity and the encroaching darkness of insanity. The artwork features a striking contrast between light and dark, with swirling, chaotic elements gradually overtaking more ordered, lucid ones. The background shifts from light to dark, symbolizing the eclipse of sanity by madness. This piece captures the terrifying experience of losing grip on reality, as clarity is overwhelmed by the shadows of mental disorder. As I Fade Away "As I Fade Away" captures the essence of a mind unraveling into chaos and despair. The artwork is a dense tapestry of fragmented thoughts, cryptic messages, and haunting imagery, depicting a clock with its hands frozen, an eye half-closed in exhaustion, and numerous scrawled phrases that speak to loss, confusion, and a desperate grip on reality slipping away. The muted, almost oppressive background color complements the chaotic elements scattered across the piece, conveying a profound sense of mental and emotional turmoil. This artwork serves as a poignant exploration of the final moments of consciousness, where clarity dissolves into an overwhelming tide of uncertainty and sorrow. The Last Transient Moment of Peaceful Lucidity "The Last Transient Moment of Peaceful Lucidity" is a serene and contemplative piece representing heaven or death. Contrasting sharply with the preceding chaos. At its center, a crescent moon smiles gently, flanked above by a sun at its zenith, symbolizing the union of night and day, and the transcendence of time. Below the moon, a delicate rose and a tranquil ocean add layers of symbolism, representing love, purity, and the eternal flow of life. The soft, harmonious colors evoke a sense of calm and peace, suggesting a final, comforting release from pain. This artwork encapsulates the serene passage from earthly struggles to a state of heavenly peace, offering a moment of reflection and tranquility in the journey's end. A huge thank you to anyone who read this. I took a massive inspiration from Leiland Kirby (The Caretaker) in making this. I also used ChatGPT to help me with the descriptions a bit. The piece started as a single artwork, which was the Fourth one in the collection. I then started making more and decided to just go for it and make a shitty collection. It’s kind of scary to make something like this since mental health and illness is such an extremely sensitive and personal topic. The fourth one however is the most personal. Every single phrase in it relates to something about me. In fact, the eye in the top right wasn’t just a doodle, it’s the eye of a girl I’m in love with. Feel free to interpret it all however you want, and thanks again everyone. |