Blank taxi receipt form

Well i've already been typed as infp 6w7 but I've recently been pondering whether it's really something that fits me so I wanted to get other people's opinions on my typing.
• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
— I'm 19 years old and identify as non-binary (he/they pronouns). I am extremely extra, I am eccentric, I love alternative styles, I love arts in all its forms, I am extremely sentimental, I can be considered strange to many, I talk too much, I seem extroverted around introverts and I seem introverted around other extroverts, I get tired easily in social situations, so I always prefer to talk more via cell phone or computer. I'm very extreme and I can end up feeling very angry, very happy or very sad out of nowhere, I usually try to be kind but I can be rude or insensitive if I'm very angry, I'm a person who really likes to fight for causes aimed at minorities since I'm from several minority groups, I hate injustice, I'm very stubborn and I don't like being contradicted while I always try to be someone who takes various arguments into account.
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
— I'm autistic, adhd, i have gad (generalized anxiety disorder) and i might also have depression.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
— I grew up in a Christian family, which hurt me a lot when I got older since my family's religion is against my existence as a queer person, and it took them a long time to admit that I needed psychological help and things like that. It's difficult to leave my roots but in the end I ended up stopping believing in my parents' religion after everything I went through.
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
— I'm studying animation design at college, it's one of my passions and I really enjoy learning about the topics, I just hate the structure of taking exams and tests.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
— I would feel crazy, insane. I need the company of some people close to me to regulate myself and talk about things I like, being alone makes me feel empty and strange. So yeah i would feel lonely.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
— I'm terrible at sports and I hate them, my motor coordination is horrible. I prefer indoor activities because there is less chance of me overloading myself with something (example: feeling unwell because of the sun, heat, etc.)
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
— I'm very curious, I love discovering new things, I have a lot of ideas at terrible times (in the middle of the night) and I really end up getting disorganized with the amount of things I think about. My ideas and curiosity are generally focused on creative processes like creating characters, universes, stories, but it can also simply be focused on a topic of interest to me (hyperfocuses / special interests). These are things that end up being more of a concept because I'm terrible at executing my ideas.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
— I don't like being the leader of projects and things like that for the simple fact that I'm not good at handling responsibilities, so I prefer to just execute some order, my problem is that I also really like doing things MY way so it's a bit contradictory. However, in the moments when I have had to be a leader (I was forced to since my colleagues didn't want to do anything) I haven't been a bad leader, I research the project topics and let people choose their topics to present.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
— I'm not good at being organized or at things that involve motor coordination. For example, it took me decades to be able to tie my shoe laces, know which direction is right or left and I keep forgetting important dates. I don't like using my hands to do activities because they shake a lot and so I'm always horrible at things that involve using my hands. The only things I think I'm good at are playing games and drawing, and even then, drawing is an extreme challenge since I always put a lot of pressure on the pencil when I'm drawing or writing.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
— Yes, art is something that I have loved since I was young because of the fact that I can express my creativity, ideas and feelings. I've always been passionate about cartoons so my drawing style is very cartoony. I really like seeing fanart from media that I love, but I also love seeing old paintings, especially from Roman and Greek times. I not only like drawing and painting, but I also love art in general. I love cinema, theater, books, sculptures, etc. One day I want to know how to write very well and be able to make books or even draw well enough to be able to make a cartoon. I want to be able to share the comfort I experience by seeing art that makes me feel happy and represented by doing something that also makes people happy through my art.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
— I have some regrets from the past, but in general I was more "normal" and happy back then, I wouldn't change anything because I follow the idea that my mistakes and successes made me who I am today. As for my present, I try to make the most of it but I'm not going to lie that I'm not a big fan of my current state, I feel a bit useless and very behind compared to most people I know my age so I end up preferring to think more about the future and how things will get better later. At the same time that I really appreciate some current moments of my present, like being able to play with my girlfriend most days, this makes me very happy.
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
— I like helping people, sometimes I even try to help people who didn't ask for my help if they are people I really like (I may end up being seen as inconvenient because of this). I always want to be able to help everyone, but currently because of my mood I may end up not being very helpful as my mental health is not the best, even so, I always try to be very patient and friendly with people who are going through difficult times, even when sometimes I just want to be left alone and I'm not in the mood to help anyone, especially because I know what it's like to be in a bad place and i don't want people to feel rejected.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
— I'm very sentimental and I often don't think very logically BUT in arguments and other serious situations I need people to use logic and proven arguments just like i do in those situations so that the debate or serious situation isn't just a bunch of nonsense. I am a sentimental person, but to develop some thought, I need logical arguments
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
— In general, I think it's very important, but I personally can't be productive and efficient since I have a lot of executive dysfunction. I KNOW it's important but I can't be like that.
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
— I like things to be my way but I don't really think I control people? I always impose my opinions a lot but I don't really control people.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
— I like games, reading books, role-playing, drawing and even trying to write books. I really like fantasy things. It seems more fun than my reality and I like to distract myself from real life things.
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
— I like learning things when they involve what I like or at least are more interactive and I hate math, chemistry and physics btw. I have a lot of difficulty with classes in subjects that require a lot of memorization, I prefer things that are relative and interpretative like arts and literature and I really like classes that involve creativity. I also hate classes where the teacher just talks and talks and talks and doesn't do anything interactive and fun. I generally prefer to study at home for very short periods of time because I learn easier alone and study very briefly because I have difficulty studying for long periods of time.
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
— I'm terrible at planning things, I usually do things at the last minute and I improvise a lot.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
— I think I get a lot of inspiration from artists I like, such as Rebecca Sugar, Tyler Joseph and others. They are very creative people who do things that I really like (I love Steven Universe, which Rebecca Sugar created, and I love Twenty One Pilots, which is the band where Tyler Joseph is the lead singer).
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
— My biggest fears are being alone, because it's scary not having anyone who understands you and who supports you and loves you, and being a burden to the people I love, because I don't want to be an extremely dependent and useless person and disappoint the people I love.
• What do the "highs" in your life look like?
— These are the days when I feel excited to do things and I can be productive doing everything I need in my routine as well as doing my hobbies and being able to relax.
• What do the "lows" in your life look like?
— These are the days when I feel sad, empty and discouraged, I can't do my routine tasks and I force myself to do them anyway in an extremely bad mood, my hobbies may even distract me on those days but it will be a strange feeling as if I'm not really excited to do what I like and I'm just distracting myself from my problems.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
— Ah, I don't have much attachment to reality and I prefer fantasy things, I constantly get caught up in my own thoughts and I prefer to create happy fantasy situations so I don't deal with my real problems. I'm also pretty distracted in general so regardless of whether I'm fantasizing or not I end up missing a lot of details and dissociating
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
— I would probably try to distract myself by thinking about things I like or talking to myself, depending on if the day was bad I would eventually end up thinking a lot about my personal problems and becoming depressed.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
— I'm very slow and indecisive when it comes to choosing things, I always want to gather as much information about each option in my mind or by researching on the internet about it and then I always end up between multiple options and changing my mind several times until I arrive at a concrete result.
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
— Some of my emotions may be processed much later than they should have been processed or simply be different from what people usually have. For example, I'm not very good at dealing with grief and I end up not showing the sadness that my other relatives do, but generally I feel my emotions in a very extreme and volatile way. I feel happy for very silly things and when I'm happy I'm VERY HAPPY and I get sad very easily and when I get sad I get VERY SAD.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
— Yes. I really like demonstrating my opinions and being authentic, it's a very important thing for me, but even so, I sometimes end up just remaining silent or agreeing with something that I don't really agree with because I'm too afraid of being hated and I generally want everyone to like me, even people I'm not very close to. However, I can also be a person with very strong opinions and be very stubborn about what I believe in if it is something linked to social issues or linked to things that I REALLY like.
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
— I break rules that I believe don't make sense, if it's something that I think makes sense I'll follow that rule, but if it's stupid and I don't understand why I have to follow it I'll probably break the rule. I've also never been a person who understands authorities, for me anyone has the right to question something if it's not a useful or logical rule. I agree that rules are important but that they can be adapted, eliminated and added if necessary for people.

Other night I had a tad too many sangsoms. Woke up the next morning and realised my phone was lost. Logged onto Facebook on my laptop to 26 missed calls from my gf. Anyway I knew for a fact I had left it in the bolt taxi. I logged into my email to look at the bolt receipt and found the drivers name. Searched on Facebook and found the driver.
I sent him a message and within 2 minutes he messaged back that he does have my phone and he will bring it back to me but it won’t be for a while as he was in Bangkok (80 odd miles away from me).
He brought it back for me a few hours later and I couldn’t thank him enough so gave him a generous tip.
Bro saved me from a biblical headache. Not the headache from my gf and hangover however lol.

Create a blank track of any form, so I can then choose a synth, drum machine..etc?
Am I missing something or does it only seem like we can load instruments via choosing a patch or whatever?
I've tried multiple times to do something basic like getting a synth to record midi notes and nothing happens lol.. This is ridiculous.

I sit alone in my room on the seventh floor, writing what will surely be my last will and testament. The heroin which allowed me to forget and to sleep for the last couple of years has lost its power to keep the screaming terrors away. The drug destroyed my body and mind, gradually eating away at them like a corrosive acid. Now I have become a slave to it. And yet, without it, I do not sleep for weeks, but instead continuously see the scenes from that terrible night running through my head on repeat as worsening waves of madness crash on the shores of my consciousness.
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.

Hello -- I bought an item off my Ibotta Gallery and there was an additional company rebate on the item in the store. I have to mail in the form on the product plus the original cash receipt. They ask for your email and also the UPC on the form. They clearly state that they will be using your email to send you future promotions.
It states that the rebate will be delivered by "instant electronic check" unless you register? and can click the box for a paper check. It also says to check on the rebate progress, email them or call them (should make a copy of the form before mailing to keep this info). Since I never have done a rebate like this, how does this work?
Do I need to use an email that is associated with my bank account? I do have an email that I use exclusively for stores but not linked to my bank account. (preferred email)
Any help will be appreciated. Thanks so much in advance.

Unless you are ready to handle the reaper cushions.

The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.
― Mark Twain

general information	additional information
name: Micah Di Santis	preferred name: Myka, Mike
d.o.b.: 10 June 20XX	age: 16
nationality: Sicilian	hometown: Sicily, Italy
gender identity: cis-male	gender expression: male
sexual orientation: Undecided	preferred pronouns: he / him / his

• Half-blood- and non-half-blood-related conundrums: ADHD (attention deficiency and hyperactivity disorder), Dyslexia

relation	name/s	age	relationship
divine parent	Charon, The Ferryman	old	Micah still has no idea what to think about his dad. Speaking with him during the visit to Olympus did nothing to clear things up. The man, or was it immortal, was blunt and yet, his son's opinion of him was still up in the air, though leaning more to the positive side. At least Micah has the connections to get himself an admittedly fantastic tailored suit.
mortal parent	???	???	Micah has no idea who his biological mother is. The only reason he knew who his father was before he came to camp was because the spirits told him.
mortal adoptive parent	Maria Di Santis	32 years old	If Marco was a saint then Maria was a saintess through and through. Everything she did, she did with someone else in mind. From the day she adopted Micah to the moment Marco died, Micah did not see her cry for herself at all. She'd cry when a little boy got hurt and would offer help or cry when she saw a cat get kicked by some drunk douchebag.
mortal adoptive parent	Vincino (Vinny) Bertelli	37 years old	Vincino is an absurdly rich man who was born and raised in Sicily. He found Maira through her singing on the side of the road to raise money for Micah's trip to the US. He offered to take her in because he liked her and sponsored Micah's trip by giving him some money and a ticket onto a transatlantic cruise ship headed to New York City. All things considered, he's a kind and considerate man who loves Maria.
adoptive brother	Marco Di Santis	14 years old, Deceased	Marco Di Santis was a saint. Ever since he learned the word 'kindness', he was absorbed and defined by it. He loved seeing the smiles bloom on people's faces when he shared some bread or helped them with something but what he truly loved more than anything else was sailing and playing the piano. He was handsome beyond reason, having pale blonde hair and clear blue eyes, though he never had a chance to grow into it fully.
dead guy	Chris	16 years old, Deceased	Like Marco, Chris is one big ball of sunshine. The only difference is he's a ghost. Micah met Chris on the cruise he stowed away on to get to the US and the ghost promptly joined him, though reluctantly because he was watching over his parents and little brother, due to finding him interesting. Like Marco, Chris is handsome though he had more time to grow into his looks. Framed by golden hair and chocolate brown eyes, Micah wouldn't have doubted it if the boy was very popular during his living days.
friend	Willow 'Will' Crest	16 years old	One of the more laid-back campers Micah had met, Willow became something of a friend to the son of Charon, though they started off more as discussion partners than anything else. And besides, being chill-buddies is pretty fun on its own. Who knows where things can go from there?
friend	Rachel 'Rocky' Williams	17 years old	Rocky was one of the first people Micah met upon arriving at camp and her enthusiasm, uncharacteristic for a child of a chthonic god, immediately made her stand out. Though he genuinely has no idea what goes through Rocky's head, Micah considers them close, and okay, maybe he has a minuscule crush on her.
friend/former cabin-mate	Ramona Herrera	16 years old	Being another camper who met Micah's criteria for friendship (i.e. Be chill and relax), Ramona is someone who Micah doesn't know too much about. Much like Kit, who Micah has seen around camp and the Hermes Cabin, she is a mystery to him. Though he does enjoy trying to spot which corner she's hiding in at any given camp gathering.
acquaintance (?)	Mathew Knight	15 years old	Matt is, as far as friendship is concerned, a work-in-progress. Micah's father had recommended getting to know the son of Hades and though he'd lost himself in school shortly after, Micah had made introductions.

appearance

faceclaim	height	weight	hair	eyes	skin
FC, Art by Charlie Bowater	5’11”	Doesn't care	Black	Amber, fiery like gold	Lightly tanned, peppered with a few more recent thin scars from his time at camp

description: Micah is a fairly restrained person when it comes to clothes. Usually, he'd only grab a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans, feeling content. Most of his clothing is fairly average, what with them being of all sorts of muted colors and sorts of clothing. He isn't used to expressing himself whether it is though clothing or other methods.
equipment:

• Folding Knife; The cleaver-shaped folding knife was a present from his brother and Micah has taken to using it for almost everything in his day to day. When his mother fell ill after Marco's death, Micah had to scrub the docks, cut rope to secure the boats, and even got to work on some boats during outings for extra cash. The knife became like a lifeline, being used for everything he had to do.
• Bead Necklace; Micah has been at camp for a year now.
• Monster Directory; Over the years, Micah has seen one or two monsters in their undisguised forms and has taken to keeping note of them by drawing them in as great a detail as he can remember in a separate notebook from the rest of his drawings while also making notes of tactics that worked against them.
• Sketchbook; Ever since he started drawing, Micah has had a good amount of sketchbooks, most of which he donated to orphanages in Sicily for the little kids to enjoy the drawings if they weren't destroyed by seawater or other kids. After he donated his last one with a few pages blank at the end, he got himself a new book, this one being leather-bound and practically a blank slate. He's glad to have an abundance of space to draw as his story unfolds.
• Art Supplies; A good amount of colored and uncolored pencils, all in different states of use, either dull or sharp, long or short, and an eraser in a dark brown leather box.
• Satchel; The over-the-shoulder bag Micah carries around with all of his items. It's nothing special, just an olive green bag with a good amount of compartments and space.
• Throwing Knife Bandolier; Micah's choice of weapon, the bandolier he carries is easy to hide under civilian clothes, fast to access, and easy to use. The knives are of standard make and easily replaceable with others from the armory, though Micah tends to clean and sharpen them himself after each use.

abilities:
* – modmailed / custom

godrent domain powers: 

a) Dead Communication; Ever since his close brush with death, Micah's powers surged. His father's connection to spirits and those who have died became his and as such he can now see and communicate with the spirits of the dead. They have been his only source of information on his father. He likes to build a network of spirits whenever he goes somewhere new so he can gather information as fast as possible.
b) Shadow Camouflage; From a fairly young age, Micah wasn't much of a social butterfly. Most of the time, he felt most comfortable in a shadowy nook where the lines of his body would be broken by shadows, using the ability unconsciously. After his near-death experience, Micah became more aware of his ability to hide in shadows and learned to use it more effectively than before.
c) Shadow Travel\;* After an unknowably long amount of time spent in Hades, Micah's father, Charon, was aligned with the underworld to which he led the souls of the dead. Similarly, Micah has inherited the ability to travel through shadows in short or long-range teleports.

godrent minor powers: 

a) River Step\;* The connection with the River Styx flows through Micah's veins as much as it does through his father's. The ability this connection granted him was the ability to walk on water, as long as there is no significant shift to the water, such as large waves.
b) Death Buff\;* Being a servant of the God of the Dead, it only makes sense that Charon would draw his own power from his master. As such, Micah has inherited a trait where he becomes stronger when around children of other deities of death, such as Hades, Melinoe, Zagreus, the Oneiroi, etc.
c) Aura of the Harbinger\;* Being a multifaceted deity, Charon passed down his multifacetedness in the form of an aura ability. Micah has the ability to project an aura with two opposite effects that work on separate targets. A calming effect affects any spirits within the aura while an imposing effect like that of Children of Hades affects living beings within the aura's range.

godrent major powers: 

a) Major Watercraft Manipulation\;* Being known as the Ferryman of the Dead, it only makes sense for Charon, and Micah by extension, to have dominion over watercraft. Micah's control over watercraft was one of the first powers he discovered and the power that is most intertwined with him in his entirety. He has inherited the ability to gain absolute control over any and all watercraft down to the rigging and ropes.

skillset 

Over the years, Micah has picked up a good variety of skills, including fishing and rope work. Still, there have been a great many learning experiences for the boy on the streets of Sicily. Free running came as a given to any child of below-average means in Sicily but Micah was significantly worse than most thanks to a leg injury he got at the age of thirteen. Drawing was the only real luxury he had during his time when he wasn't working. A young lady from a carnival that was passing through taught him how to use throwing knives after he helped her find her way around the city. He learned ballet by watching, sitting for hours outside a studio every day for weeks until he'd gotten good enough to practice independently, which led to his interest in gymnastics. One of the older neighborhood boys took to teaching Micah, his brother, and the other kids how to read and write in English. Micah's adoptive mother insisted on teaching him how to speak English from a young age. Now, he can speak English with a barely noticeable Sicilian accent.
personality
Micah is about as quiet as you'd expect from a Chthonic kid. That isn't to say that he is particularly serious or brooding, in fact, even when he's upset, he rarely does either. He mainly remains silent because he isn't particularly talented at talking. His reactions to most things tend to be a bit muted unless something is especially funny or angering. Any of the kids that liked him or trusted him in Sicily did so because they understood that when it was needed, Micah would talk as much as was needed and would do what needed to be done to keep everyone safe.
Fatal Flaw; Vengefulness
backstory
Micah's past year at camp had been simultaneously the most relaxing and confusing year of his life. There had been a unfamiliarity that Micah had with anything to do with relaxation or really anything but working that had slowly melted away. He'd made friends and discovered passions that might have otherwise gone ignored for the rest of his life (Art was definitely one of those).
So, when school started to take over his time, Micah barely gave it any thought, settling back into his old work mentality, though now focused on mental instead of physical labor. Before he knew it, it was summer, school was out, and he was back at the start, not knowing how to get himself to relax.
now
Micah stared at the ground around the Range target blankly, the celestial bronze knives scattered around it refracting light. He was jolted out of his mental haze when a camper a few rows down yelled at him for standing in front of the target for so long. Quickly finishing up gathering his throwing knives, Micah slotted them into his bandolier and left the Range.
For a while, he just walked, until he reached the pier. Boats had been a constant of Micah's life before coming to camp and when he was really out of it or off his rocker, the son of Charon liked to settle at the camp pier and imagine what sort of sea vessel he'd design for himself. Aesthetics might not have mattered to everyone but to Micah, they did. The ship would have to look as good as it sailed.
Now, he fell onto his back in the sand a few meters from the pier and stared up at the sky. Barely any clouds. Gods that was boring.
(Credit to u/FireyRage for the amazing intro format.)

Hello all!
I will be flying to Athens from London on the morning of June 6th, and I'll be staying there until June 10th, where I will be flying back home at night, so pretty much 5 full days.
My main reason for going to Athens is to see Coldplay on the 8th and 9th, but my biggest concern is getting around Athens.
My hotel is the Vincci Ever Eden Beach Resort in 'Athens - Sounion Av. 47th km, Anavissos 190 13, Greece' , according to google. The concert will be held in the Olympic Stadium in Marousi, which according to Uber is a 40-60EUR taxi fare, which is not really something I want to have to pay. I am not familiar with public transport in Athens and the internet is telling me conflicting things.
What is the best and most cost effective way to get from my resort, to the stadium and back? Bearing in mind the concert will most likely end late. If there is no form of public transport at those times I'll just have to firm the Taxi, but I'd rather not.
Thanks for your time!

Hello! 🙌 I resigned from my full-time job last October 2023 and decided to be self-employed (freelancer). I already have my COR and receipts since my Mixed Income status is okay, and I'm regularly filing my taxes/forms.
Starting this Quarter 2, I wanna update my status to self-employed (since I already stopped getting my salary last year) but I don't know how. I'm planning to visit BIR next week.

1. As I create an online BIR appointment, should I click the option to Register a business or Update Registration information?
2. What Forms/ documents/ requirements do I need to process this change?
3. Do I need to change anything with my Certificate of Registration?
4. My receipts are for Educational services (since I'm an ESL teacher), if I get clients for Virtual Assistance work, will I be required to change my receipts?

Thanks in advance for your inputs 🥰

Just received a release form from an insurance company for some property damage that happened to my front yard due to a car accident. The language states: “For and in consideration of the payment to (me) of the total sum of $xxx, receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, …”
I have not received any check or payment yet and the agent stated that they will send me the check after I sign the release form (which prevents me from going after them for more damages/money later on). The fact that I have to acknowledge receipt of money that I haven’t received yet and won’t receive until after I sign seems a bit suspect.
Is this standard practice? I’m worried that if I sign this that they may never send me anything.
Thanks in advance.

PIP form stuck on planning and following journeys?
I am applying for PIP for the first time ever and am stuck on this question. I looked at the guide with the points breakdown on how its awarded and I am still stuck.
I am capable of planning a journey in google maps. Its the following the journey part. The problem is that it bases it on familiar vs unfamiliar. Unfamiliar is harder for me but my issue is more distance from my home.
When I am in too much pain I cant leave my house. Thats simple to explain. But I also struggle with going places that are further from my home when I am more able to move around. I have gone to someone elses home on the tram with my partner. And then when returning the tram was out. My pain level had already increased from when we had set out originally, we couldnt get a taxi (none were available) and ended up having to walk to a place we could get a bus we had to keep taking breaks so I could rest to get to the bus stop. It was a short bus ride but I was in so much pain that I got off the bus and was sick on the sidewalk. My partner had to help half carry me down the street with breaks to get home. It was absolutely horrible and I paid for it for days afterwards. This is for me a bigger cause of anxiety. When leaving my house its not just if the route is familiar or not. Its how far away is it. I can't figure out how to explain that the issue isnt just if I know the route but if I will be able to follow the route back. When I can afford it I prefer to take a taxi for longer journeys anyway. But how do I explain this? How do I explain its fatigue/pain or the fear of fatigue/pain that is the issue with my journey?? Especially if I am alone. I dont like to go more than a 5 minute walk from my flat by myself when I am able just because of the fear of deteriorating and being trapped further away.
I dont know how to answer this in terms of following journeys? Especially as the journeys near my home, my partner found me routes that arent the main google one so that I can avoid going up or down a steep slope.

For example last purchases FFL a form was filled out then the FFL said I got approved for ammo and shotgun. On the receipt it doesn’t show background check prices of $9 and $2.50 and don’t think they charged card also. Should I mention it to them?

For example last purchases FFL a form was filled out then the FFL said I got approved for ammo and shotgun. On the receipt it doesn’t show background check prices of $9 and $2.50 and don’t think they charged card also. Should I mention it to them?

1. Crimson Dragon (Synchro Monster, Level 12)
   
2. Ultimaya Tzolkin (Synchro Monster, Blank Level (12))
   
3. Bissballkin (Ultimaya's true form)
   
4. Red Nova Dragon (Due to it's ties with the crimson devil, the strongest earthbound immortal)
   
5. Red Supernova Dragon (See #4)
   
6. Majestic Star Dragon (Stated in the battle with Yusei vs Norse gods that this cards was the VERY INCARNATION of the Crimson Dragon, aka the Peruan god Quezacotl)
   
7. Majestic Red Dragon (see #6)
   
8. Shooting Majestic Star Dragon (Level 11 synchro monster) (See #6)
   

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information: