Unblock us online | | us_online: me_irl and meirl without the shitmods

Hello. I'm Enterprise90. I'm looking for someone to talk to tonight. I'm not looking for a relationship, but friendship and more is certainly on the table.
I'm an introvert and a loner who is also left-handed, the best handed. I have a bachelor's degree and two master's degrees and like to read stories on The Associated Press. I have green eyes and buzzed hair.
As typical of humans, I have a lot of interests. I've been into Star Trek for as long as I can remember. TNG has my favorite episodes, but DS9 may be my favorite series, though SNW is closing that gap. I've been a professional wrestling fan for more than 25 years, and I follow the New England Patriots. I also enjoy Batman, Marvel, video games, Pokemon (always choosing the water starter) and other interests.
I prefer to read nonfiction, but my favorite book is The Great Gatsby.
As long as you're close-ish to my age and timezone (I'm in central), I invite you to talk to me. I hope to hear from you.

This is kinda a sequel to a post I made few days ago
Hello umm just some background for context
I’m 21 year old man
I have a long history of uhh loneliness and limerence and putting people on a pedestal especially woman I’m crushing on
I get attached to folks really easily
Actively working on myself exercise and diet so far I’m 304 down to 277lbs since January
Keep trying to tell myself that I’m doing this for me myself and my health but deep down I also know I’m doing to think to be a lil more attractive
Trying to get back into therapy just waiting for my insurance to kick in
Context and why I posted this
Without airing anyone’s dirty laundry
Basically met someone over in R4R and Forever alone dating. Talked sparingly she found someone in her home country which was cool happy for her
We continued to talk recently though she was in a crisis basically abandoned by her abuser and kicked out of her home
I’ve been trying my best to help being supportive sent a lil money. (I know it’s not a scam)
It was good I was really trying to do the right thing and uhh well my dumbass started crushing on her.
And I feel a lil gross cause she just got out of abusive relationship and I shouldn’t be thinking about dating her she’s focus’s on where she’s gonna eat and sleep.
This has all been going on for a week and a half
Friday I felt limerence kicking in I was at my desk and I realized as I was working I was day dreaming about me visiting and us visiting all the historical sites in her country
It scares the hell out of me I don’t wanna be limerent again and chasing people again
But I’ve still been helpful and supportive but today at work I had I think it might have been an anxiety attack but basically I just spilled my guts and told her how I have a huge crush on her
And I know it’s wrong but I can’t hold it in if I kept holding it in I was gonna start bawling my eyes out in work. I apologized
She got back to me she isn’t mad, at me
She was very forgiving and understanding and empathetic
She said she thinks I’ve got anxious attachment like her, she said she’d help me work through it.
So when I got home from work today. I went online and did some research and I know tests aren’t like certified or a diagnosis I guess but I took three different ones and got anxious attachment every time.
I feel like the hardest part of my self improvement is gonna be social stuff, I’ve always been awkward I catch feelings very easily
I’m a stupid romantic, I’m apparently to kind for my own good
I’ve always wanted the intimacy and the lovey dovey stuff of relationships the companionships more than any sex o
And look, I swear I’m not a nice guy, or a white knight
I genuinely went into helping her because it was the right thing to do. It’s just my brains is stupid cause people are nice to me and I get really attached I’m a sucker for compliments
I would just love any and all advice and resources maybe you notice something I don’t
I don’t hate myself I don’t think I’m fuck ugly
I used to think I was unlovable but I’ve had one relationship in my life and in therapy I learned that, I have the qualities to be a good boyfriend they just manifest in improper ways
My dream in life is I want a home, a sense of independence, I’d love to get married and I love her she loves me we support each other and help each other grow as human beings
*im not specifically talking about her in my dream in life
I know this is a lot and might sound like the ramblings of a mad man. But I’d really appreciate anything

This is uh also a slight rant too btw
All my life I've resented taking pictures and doing video calls. Everytime I looked at mine I always was disturbed because the person I saw wasn't who aligned with my own perception of myself. Everytime I look into the mirror I almost have to stand there and convince myself 'That's me, that's who you are, you ain't that bad'.
There are defintely parts of me I don't like but if I'm being honest, I haven't ever had a vehement hatred of anything about myself. It's not that I consider myself ugly (I don't consider myself a conventionally attractive man. In fact I don't think I ever received a compliment for how I looked, not even family, only jokes and contempt. but it really never bothered me because I know everyone's got a type for something and I truly don't care how I look to other people, just how I look to myself) but it's the fact that the person I see in the mirror, the person I see in pictures and the person I see in video calls just, doesn't align with the person I envision myself as. And it's confusing it's really confusing for me. Because it's not that it has that dramatic of an effect on me because hey as long as I don't see myself then who cares, but it started to bother me after I started deciding to dress and style myself to try to align myself, but I just never was able to see who I envisioned. And what's more confusing is, I don't know if it's because of my body or my gender or if I'm over exaggerating it because of having unrealistic standards
Honestly life would be so much better if we could Shapeshift. God dropped the ball on not giving us that power 🙏
IDK maybe this isnt a conventional experience that anyone shares, maybe this isn't Dysmorphia at all but I'm hoping to get some perspectives here. Because I don't think I hate my body all together. There are aspects I dislike, sure, but I never out right hated it. But I do feel a disconnect. Hell I don't even like the idea of face revealing to close online friends, not out of fear of being perceived as being ugly, but because I enjoyed being faceless so much since I could envision myself how I wish, without them having a vision of what I actually look like. Part of me has always thought 'What if I was a girl? What if I had less hair? What if I had a different body type as a boy? What if I had better fashion?would I feel the connection then? Is the connection even that important?' and it never helped that I don't even have any role models that represented me physically in anyway, and it doesn't help that when I try to imagine who I envision myself as now, I can't even decide on what to envision. I wish I had that body connection Because without it, it feels harder to want to show my personality through my body. Honestly Splatoon was the closest I ever felt to being able to represent myself truly. A game about gender neutral looking creatures just expressing themselves through colour, personality and style. And able to switch everything on a whimsy. I unfortunately have very very masculine features and absolutely no chance in hell to look like anything but a specific, masculine way.

Proof
https://imgur.com/a/whTJpK9
Canada coins:
1976 complete set of Canada Olympics. 28 silver coins. 30.24 total ozs. $1035
Canada coins sold as a lot:
20 coins for $67 1961 25 cents 1968 25 cents (x3) 1967 10 cents 1911 5 cents 1936 one cent 1943 one cent 1932 one cent 1943 25 cents 1965 25 cents 1947 maple leaf 10 cents 1928 5 cents 1928 one cent 1947 10 cents 1751–1951 5 cents 1904 one cent 1955 25 cents 1968 10 cents
https://imgur.com/a/F8V3Crs
Silver bullion
US Silver Corp 1974 world trade 1oz- $32
https://imgur.com/a/WsAGl7t
https://imgur.com/a/Nf1YWWi
Canada Silver stamp- Nonsuch 1968 Very rare $48
https://imgur.com/a/EJxzHXx
Astrology bullion Two, 1/2 oz each $33 for the pair
https://imgur.com/a/lffQIrM
Andrew Jackson liberty lobby 1991 240 grains silver $15
https://imgur.com/a/4vFj87v
2017 Canada big horn sheep 3/4oz proof69 2018 Canada wolverine 3/4oz proof69 https://imgur.com/a/d2UZJoG Both for $67
2023 silver Krugerrand MS69 $35
https://imgur.com/a/CuKTEfA
2021S silver eagle $40 emergency production MS69
https://imgur.com/a/vY8caDp
Silver round Eisenhower addresses troops at Normandy $33 1oz
https://imgur.com/a/JQUKy3K
https://imgur.com/a/k9YVYMy
George bush 1oz silver gold plated 24k $33
https://imgur.com/a/DlxvepK
Gold
1992 Cook Island $50 coin Proof Panda 14k, .25oz $371
https://imgur.com/a/da0ep0y
https://imgur.com/a/TtofpBu
2000 Jahre Christnetum Austrian Gold Coin 500 Schilling 10g, .986 fine $742
https://imgur.com/a/ANFIViv
https://imgur.com/a/lZLZRiA
1904 Russia gold coin 5 Rubles $385
https://imgur.com/a/p9oWKOd
https://imgur.com/a/S9ZaUqw
https://imgur.com/a/lVM62Fu
Gouden Dukaat 1989 proof 3.494g plus numismatic value $260
https://imgur.com/a/xjmfaSX
https://imgur.com/a/SMIHQUg
1909 20F gold coin, 6.46g $455
https://imgur.com/a/c6LqbxB
https://imgur.com/a/10A2Qb4
Silver coins
Lot of 3 coins-$21 George Washington 1982 half dollar 90% Two 1976 Washington quarter proof 90%
Statue of Liberty Centennial 1986 Statue Of Liberty Washington Crossing Delaware 28.6 Grams Sterling Silver .925 collector coin $42
One Peso Filipinas 1908S $55
https://imgur.com/a/6aTy3EA
1970 Egypt nasser commemorative $32
WWII 50th anniversary silver coin D-Day $34 1991-1995 26g .9 highly collectible low mintage
https://imgur.com/a/xzkxVPw
Eisenhower Liberia $20 silver coin 20g .999 Low mintage $26 proof
https://imgur.com/a/Jq95ugr
Douglas Arthur Philippines one Peso $50
https://imgur.com/a/1y1G1Fp
1960 South Africa 5 shillings silver coin $30
https://imgur.com/a/twGBcLo
$6 for <6ozs $10 >6ozs Gold coins $10 each or all, shipped priority
Shipping is USPS from NJ I will email a picture of the tracking receipt. Once tracking sent , assumed delivered.
I can take more pictures just ask.
Insurance is optional paid by the buyer I accept Venmo, Zelle and PayPal friends and family only. If you want to use goods and services please pay the ~2% extra that they charge me. I used Internet and online auctions to determine prices. Make offer if you think they are unfair. Thank you for looking.

This could end up being a book, but I don’t know how to change how I’m feeling. Before you come in here really harshly judging me or screaming that I am making accusations and being crazy, full disclosure that I am autistic and I have NEVER hidden this from my friends or any man I’ve dated.
Now that that’s out of the way, let me continue. I was in a Christian singles group in my area that used to get together fairly often (it was usually once a month, but drama happened after the guy that started it made a mess…so we disbanded). Everyone is 21-40 and unmarried. I have a very close friend in this group. I’ve known her for many years and I met her outside of it. We did hikes and trips and lots of fun stuff together during that weird limbo after Covid. We stayed solid once work picked back up, but doing as much did slow down.
One of the other girls from the group and I became pretty close pretty fast (this was over the course of a year, so, May 2023 to now). My gut about her told me that I should maybe be worried and run (comes off as strong!), while everything else said that she was cool. She was kinda pushy to be close as friends, so I was okay with that, especially since my really close friend got buried in her work and had even told me that she gets a bit more introverted when she has to work (I’m 50/50 introvert/extrovert) and to broaden my circle (I was her shadow for a bit there…lol). For context, we are both straight 30 something year old women that have successful careers. The new girl is 29, straight with a boyfriend, and has a good job that keeps her busy.
I check in with them both, to see if they have any interest in the three of us hanging out and being friends. I always get shut down…my long time friend says that she is at a different place in life. New girl says nearly the same thing. What’s really weird though, is that New girls parents live just down the road from my good friend, so, they literally can hang out anytime she visits her parents…which varies…
Time passes and the new girl and I make a plan to move in together, because our city in the US is very expensive and living alone just won’t work anymore for either of us, even on our salaries. Once that was planned, I feel like everything started changing.
So, and this is where autism comes into play. If you have any triggers about cyber stalking or stress from things like that, please stop reading now. I really don’t need someone getting really worked up and laying into me. As the subreddit is called “advice”, I’m seeking advice, not to be screamed at and/or called crazy.
I ended up moving in with newer friend. I let her know of all of my quirks and odd things while we were still friends (not roommates yet), and she has been so great…(I think).
Here is where I’m truly hung up, and it all sounds really odd and off and wrong, because, to my knowledge, both of these people have been great and honest with me.
Right around when I started saying I was going to be roomies with her, I think around the start of the year because of leases and things, I noticed a shift in chat patterns online. It was really odd, but what was also odd was how my two friends started sounding alike. They were night and day for a reason, and it truly balanced out my life. They were online a lot together, and then, I noticed a few of the church ladies, specifically from my church, which, new girl really didn’t like the service at, were online too. I felt like I was getting left out, but, when I would ask my two friends that I was closer to about it, they both denied anything was happening (I asked a few times). I asked another friend that I’m pretty close with about it that was online when they were all online, and she said that she had only talked to my roommate the once, at the singles event (she’s always been close to my long time friend…additionally, the way she answered, I could see her pulse was racing), and she didn’t know of anything.
One of my siblings pointed out the logical answer - these were hot times for people to be online. Right after work. Right after dinner. Etc. But then it started getting specific when one girl moved away for just a few months to take a contract. Again - all on at the same time (there are four of them), but to accommodate the girl that moved. For a bit there, I was gathering my receipts/screen shots, but I deleted them and stopped that once she moved in. The last thing I needed was her seeing that somehow and drama happening.
She and I had a good conversation on the first night that she lived with me about how I have but one thing that could hurt my feelings/is my insecurity, and that was being left out and having stuff hidden from me, and people lying to me. Just to tell me the truth always. I don’t get angry or jealous if I know what’s going on and I don’t feel like things are being hidden from me. I told her that I felt like she was becoming friends with my group of church friends behind my back, and I was really insecure about it. She insisted that wasn’t the case. We shook on being honest about friendships and whatnot, and everything seemed okay.
For those of you wondering/that don’t know - a lot of times, the autistic mind will cling to what it doesn’t know in confusion/curiosity, and obsess. This is what I explained to both friends. I don’t mean to be that way. I was literally born with this, and I’m trying to navigate it as best I can. I just need transparency and honesty always, even if you think it could hurt my feelings.
Well, things got weirder once new girl moved in. She started writing this short story that used the name of my good friends dog in it over and over (not a super common word/name). My close friend had a container in the back of her car that she had mentioned to me she finally got rid of. When roomie showed up with it, I was SHOCKED! I called her on it, and she insisted that her mom gave it to her, but, it had a very odd and specific part marked up ( I’m autistic…I remember these things…every detail….) exactly how my good friends did. I guess that my friend could have tossed it out, and my roomies mom could have done a dumpster dive 🤷‍♀️ It just doesn’t seem likely at all. My close friend and I met for coffee one day, and she got this deer in the headlights look on her face after her Facebook messenger went off, just a minute or two before I went home. Once I was alone, I saw that roomie was on Facebook messenger and was the only common friend we had online at that moment (I guess my good friend added her on fb one day).
I’m so lost on what to do, because when I ask them for honesty (which, they are allowed to be friends, I’m not like, weird about that…) they just insist that they aren’t friends. Why would roomie have moved in with me if she could have lived down the street from a friend for FREE at her parents? That’s what they both ask 🤷‍♀️ I’m at a loss right now. Like, it’s really hard living with someone that I don’t fully trust. I just need to know for my piece of mind…What do I do? Thank you for reading all of that.

Long story, this one, but just bear with me:
Came in to work today and to my surprise there was an envelope addressed to the store, sitting on the counter. Inquiring about it, I ask my coworker for context, to which I'm told someone addressed us an envelope (postage and return address included) with money and a handwritten receipt for an item.
The envelope was in poor condition, as received that way from USPS. The person wanted a plush. They had the price written down, with shipping and tax included, which came to like $21.60 give or take. Unfortunately, during the handling process, I guess some money fell out since there was only $20.10 in there at arrival.
I'm not sure what the sender imagined would happen with that. Had there been enough money (and maybe if we had in-store the item they were looking for) I'd have done that transaction and got it to them one way or another, whether that be buying it in store and hand delivering it (let's be real, I had nothing better to do) or creating a WIS for them because I felt like being nice.
With nothing in my power to do, I took the envelope and money back to the return address (the sender only lived 5 minutes from the store which is crazy to me) and explained to the older gentleman who answered the door (not the sender, but he lives there so whatever) that the product can be purchased instead by coming into the store physically where we can assist with a WIS/purchasing on-site if in-stock or they can go online and order whatever they're looking for.
TLDR: Received a letter at work today with an accurate invoice + item request

Previous Posts
Grayson kept his promise and came over to talk with me. He arrived after classes for both of us were done for the day. It also meant that Cassie was home and this time, she didn’t vanish into her bedroom to give us privacy. She waited until we were both seated in the living room and Titanosaur was settled in Grayson’s lap, thereby preventing him from escaping.
Please don’t read too much into that, as I’ve said before Titanosaur has like three brain cells and will sit in literally anyone’s lap. Our landlady sent her husband over to fix the leaking faucet in the bathroom and Titan was trying to climb in his lap while the poor guy was sitting there with half his body inside of a cabinet.
Then Cassie came over, carrying a chair from the kitchen, and also seated herself with us. I glanced at Grayson. He looked dismayed, but was hiding it well in an effort to be polite. I decided to lean into my non-confrontational side and not ask her to leave.
“You’ve been acting a bit out of character lately,” I began delicately. “As a friend, I’m worried about you.”
“And I’m worried too,” Cassie added. “Maybe you don’t think of me as a friend, but you’ve been hanging out around Ashley enough that I consider you one of mine.”
Huh. I wasn’t expecting that, to be honest. I thought Cassie didn’t like him. I don’t think she was lying, either.
“Have you considered getting grief counseling?” she continued.
Straight to the point. I was glad Cassie was there. My plan was to tiptoe delicately around the subject for what probably would have been another 500 words worth of dialogue here in this post I’m writing up. Fortunately, Cassie’s willingness to address a problem directly saved me the typing and you the tedium.
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t,” Grayson said. “The university doesn’t know he’s gone yet.”
“Who is running this place?” Cassie asked in amazement.
I know. We’ve all been thinking it. Turns out the answer is ‘there’s a board’ and they make all the real decisions. The president is just a figurehead. Which is pretty obvious if you stop and think about it. I wanted to ask if the flickering man reported to the board but I also didn’t want to derail the conversation with things that really didn’t matter anymore. It’s safer to just assume the board is the administration I’ve been wondering about this whole time. Heck, it’s safer to assume everyone except for the students and professors are responsible in some part for the whole monster situation.
Sorry for not finding out for certain, but Grayson was working through some important stuff and I didn’t dare interrupt.
“I don’t want counseling, either,” he continued. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I never cared for him. Not in a familial sense. My presence was more to fill a role.”
Things were starting to connect in my head. This conversation reminded me of some things the flickering man had said. Roles to be filled. A cycle, ushering in new students to fill them. They’d been filling the president’s role with a corpse - a very old one, judging by the date on the photo Cassie took of the headstone - so perhaps that wasn’t the only role being filled.
“Were you adopted?” I asked. “By the president?”
“I was.”
Beside me, Cassie took a deep breath. It wasn’t from shock. It sounded more like… annoyance. If I’m being generous with the term.
“The flickering man said something to me,” I said slowly. “That I wasn’t the first person he’d seen like this and I wouldn’t be the last. Are you… not the only child that the president has adopted?”
“...I’m not.”
This is the point where Cassie just lost it. Stood up, yelled ‘why the fuck didn’t you tell us any of this?!’ and stormed out of the room. She slammed the door to her bedroom shut behind her. Grayson and I sat there in the living room for a good minute, stunned, listening to what I’m 99% certain was Cassie screaming into her pillow. Then the door opened and she returned to calmly sit down on the sofa again.
“I’m good,” she said. “All better. Please continue.”
The details of the conversation get a little fuzzy at this point, as it seems that even though the forgetter is gone I’m still having memory issues. Unfortunately Grayson was right - it wasn’t the forgetter that was responsible for my particular variety of memory loss. There’s something else trying to protect Grayson.
I suspect the tree in the graveyard. Its roots have spread all over campus, after all.
Sorry to be so blase about this but it’s not actually that upsetting anymore. It’s just this thing we’re dealing with.
It’s a good thing Cassie was present for the rest of the conversation. She filled me in on the details later, after we’d confirmed that I had some significant gaps. Grayson explained a bit more about the whole adoption thing. He didn’t know who his birth parents were. He’d never been outside of this town and basically grew up on campus. This is all kind of recapping what we already knew or guessed at, but the adoption angle was new at least. I’d assumed that his dad had died and been replaced, which he had, except it wasn’t his dad at all and Grayson’s role as the son was being replaced over and over also.
Which is all kinds of fucked up.
It also means that this has been going on for generations and I think we all know why that’s rather alarming.
“What happened to the previous adopted kids?” I asked once we’d gotten through this rather confusing summary.
“They died.”
There was a heavy silence in the room.
“How?” I asked.
“Well… one drowned. Another suffocated.” He hesitated. “This is kind of why I’m reluctant to tell people I’m the president’s son.”
“Grayson, are you worried someone will try to kill you?” Cassie asked flatly.
“...yeah. I am, actually.”
Screaming into a pillow myself was starting to look pretty tempting.
Now I’m sure you’re all thinking what I was thinking at this point. If the university was just recycling the president’s corpse and finding new children to play the role of their child for… reasons??? then perhaps that was why the flickering man was interested in me. Perhaps I was Grayson’s replacement, as many of you have theorized.
I mean, it seems pretty suspicious. Grayson’s dad is getting his soul replaced on the regular - or at least, he was. Grayson himself is a replacement for prior Graysons but I guess since they don’t need an adult, they’re just grabbing any ol’ kid to fill the role for a while. But the former Graysons keep dying because the inhumans get him? Grayson has a lot of protection on campus but he’s not immune - I’ve watched him get attacked by the steam ghost in particular.
Which leads me to my own theory. If I am a replacement, I don’t fit the mold. Perhaps that’s why the flickering man hated me so much. I’m too old (legal adult yay) and… I’m not a son.
But I wanted to confirm some things.
We wrapped up the conversation with Grayson because we were running out of mental capacity to ask more questions. He was clearly uncomfortable and there was a lot to process. He did promise to not be so difficult about this in the future. He wasn’t really grieving. He was just… uncertain. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Which is fair. When you’re raised to fill a role and suddenly that role is gone it’s hard to adjust.
I know what that feels like.
After Grayson left I messaged Maria asking if she knew anyone that was good with a camera. Like, really good. And also good in high stress situations. She got back to me pretty quickly. Maria is starting to become one of those people who knows everyone. She’s heading firmly down the road of becoming the subject of one of those unhinged tumblr posts where someone magically summons an army of people to fulfill a task, while she stays on the sidelines quietly directing the ever-increasing chaos.
Fortunately, she’s not there quite yet, but she is freakishly well-connected for a campus of this size. Within an hour she had me in a group chat with someone from the Folklore Society who fit all my requirements, even the unspoken ones. Someone that was good with a camera in “hostile circumstances” (her words, very accurate) and wouldn’t cut and run the moment things got a little weird. I think you all see where I was going with this.
Yeah, we were going to get photos of something inhuman.
DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.
For starters, it’s not safe just getting close to an inhuman to photograph it. And once you do, that opens a whole new set of hazards. If the inhuman takes offense to being photographed, then they’re going to do anything they have to to get the photo destroyed and all rules are off the table when it comes to disguising their existence. Think of it like this - an inhuman might not be able to enter a house due to hospitality rules keeping them out, but this is weighed against their need to keep their presence obscured. The latter wins. Hospitality rules are no longer enough protection.
That’s my understanding, at least.
And sure, there are inhumans that don’t seem to care if a photo or two are leaked to the internet, but you have no way of knowing in advance. Let’s say you get lucky and nothing comes after you to destroy the phone/camera, computer, your social media accounts, and you. You’re not quite off the hook. That photo is a connection to the inhuman and if the creature captured in it doesn’t use it as an access point, something else might.
Photos are just a bad idea all around.
So we agreed that if we were going to go ahead with this stupid plan, we’d do so with as many safety measures as we could. First, the person taking the photo would be fully informed on the potential consequences. I was hoping that they could just teach Maria or I how to use a camera, but considering they were in the inner circle Folklore Society (what I’m calling the folks that know the monsters aren’t just stories) they wanted to come in person. I tried to talk them out of it, they finally made a snarky comment about if I wanted them to sign a waiver, and I dropped the topic.
Secondly, we were going to destroy both the photo and the camera afterwards. I got online and ordered the cheapest digital camera I could find. It was a camera designed for young children so it was pastel pink with teddy bears on it, but whatever, it was digital and didn’t cost over $30. The money from my job at the dining hall has helped with the finances but I didn’t particularly feel like lighting it on fire.
Especially since we planned to literally light the camera on fire when we were done. I wasn’t looking forward to the smell of burning plastic but fire is both a thorough and symbolically traditional way to dispose of things. Like I said, we were trying to do this as safely as we could.
The camera arrived the next day so we decided to go ahead with our plan that evening. Cassie would stay home because we felt having too many people might be a hindrance if we had to bail out. Also, she had “digital date night” with her girlfriend and I didn’t want to interfere.
Then we found a discreet entrance to the steam tunnels.
I wanted a photograph of the steam ghost. It had a face. I wanted to see what that face looked like.
I’d scouted out the steam tunnel entrances beforehand, while waiting for the burner (lol) camera to arrive. Last time I’d looked inside, they were clogged with roots. However, if the roots were originating from the graveyard, then perhaps the parts of campus that were farthest away would be clear enough to traverse. I got lucky and found an entrance inside of one of the dorms that’s out by the parking lot. The lobby is open and from there it’s easy enough to just coast into the stairwell behind someone with a keycard and then down into the basement. There were roots, but they hung from the ceiling as slender tendrils that brushed the top of my head like the faint touch of a moth. I didn’t go far inside. Just enough to confirm it didn’t get any worse and we had a long corridor free of obstruction.
When I came back, I had Maria and the photographer with me.
His name is Jacob and he’s a sophomore. He joined the Folklore Society because he realized he wasn’t making any attempts to be social, at college of all places, and picked a club that seemed like it would be small so he didn’t have to deal with crowds. Large groups of people intimidated him. I can certainly relate to that.
I feel bad for him. Imagine getting caught up in all this bullshit just because you had trouble making friends.
It also occurred to me that this photography excursion was also part of his attempt to make friends, because that’s what landed him in the group that had to hide from the thing in the hallway. Whatever. Maria can deal with that. She’s the extrovert.
“Let’s not forget the plan,” I said nervously as we gathered outside the door. “We get in. We get the photo. We run like hell back out the door.”
I’m happy to say that the plan worked. Every step. Swear to god.
We were about halfway to where the tunnel turned when the steam started to rise out of the ground around us. It seeped through the walls, filling our lungs and making it hard to breathe. The usual. We turned back at that point, as we wanted to be close to the exit so we could snap the photo and run once the steam ghost showed up.
The nice thing about inhumans is that they can be predictable. They have set rules they follow and so long as you follow the prescribed pattern of behavior, you know what to expect. This allows you to plan, as I’d done. So when we loitered within sprinting distance of the door, the steam ghost obliged to show up and chase us off.
Just as expected. And Jacob was ready with our pastel pink camera, so that when its face materialized out of the steam, mouth open in a silent scream and its misty hands stretched towards us, he was able to snap a photo.
Then we ran and reached the door before it caught up.
See? Exactly as planned.
There’s one more rule we learned about though. One that I’d forgotten to factor in for this crucial moment.
The doors in the steam tunnels don’t always open to the same place.
We tumbled through without thinking. I, pulling up the rear, had a moment of hesitation when I saw nothing but darkness ahead of me, but it was too late, I was in a full sprint and besides, Maria had already stumbled through the doorway. I slammed into Jacob’s back, propelling him the few steps he needed to be past the doorway, and then we were all through and the door slammed shut behind us.
The air was warm and damp. The steam tunnels, while warm, aren’t damp unless the steam ghost is present. This felt like being inside of a sauna. I could feel water beads forming on my arms, clinging to the hairs that were currently standing on end in alarm. There was a faint breeze coming from ahead of us, a slowly rhythmic flow to it like a fan. It did nothing to alleviate the heat. If anything, it was even warmer.
Maria turned her phone’s flashlight on.
We were in a corridor, much the same size as the tunnel we’d just escaped. The walls glistened with moisture, shining with the gray-pink color of rotting beef. There were no sharp angles, just a round passageway that vanished into darkness at the edge of Maria’s flashlight beam. The floor beneath our feet was slightly squishy.
And it was full of teeth.
Honestly I think I would have preferred sharp teeth, like an animal’s fangs or something out of science fiction. Instead, we got human incisors, circling the entirety of the tunnel in regular intervals.
The tunnel rippled. There was a faint gurgling sound, like the rumbling of a stomach twisting in hunger. And those rows of teeth began to tighten as the tunnel constricted around us.
“STEAM GHOST,” Maria yelled. “I CHOOSE THE STEAM GHOST.”
And she threw the door behind us open and dove back into the tunnel. Jacob grabbed my arm and dragged me along with him, as I was frozen in fear, staring at all those glistening ivory teeth. I stumbled over the doorframe and fell forwards, hitting the cement floor hard on all fours. I heard the door slam shut behind me. Frantically, I looked up at the tunnel.
No ghost. But the steam was still there, hanging heavy in the air and filling my lungs. The ghost would be back. I was certain of that.
“What now?!” Jacob asked, his earlier calm quickly giving way to panic.
“Try the door again!” I said, scrambling to my feet. “It changes!”
Maria spun around and opened the door a sliver for the second time, just enough to peer through the crack and confirm what was on the other side.
“FUCK.”
Then she slammed it shut. Opened it. Another burst of profanity, slightly more panicked than the last explicative. Meanwhile, Jacob and I cowered at her back, staring at the steam that hung thick in the air all around us, waiting to see if it was going to reform into a malevolent spirit while Maria played Russian roulette with the door.
She did this five times before she finally got the dorm we’d entered through.
Flushed and panting, we stumbled through and Jacob kicked the door to the steam tunnels shut with a determined flourish. There. We’d done it. As I’d said, our plan went perfectly. We got the photo and ran like hell to the door.
Didn’t plan on what happened after we went through the door. This is my lack of attention to detail coming into play, which is probably what also made me a shitty barista.
We crowded around Jacob to see the photo he got. This is why we recruited someone with actual photography skills. He was able to use a truly shitty camera intended for toddlers to somehow focus on a literal ghost’s face in the handful of seconds we had before it reached us, all while not panicking.
Staring at us from the tiny screen was a person’s face. Not a face made of steam. An actual flesh and blood human face. The rest of the shot was obscured by steam, framing it so that all we could see was this disembodied human face staring out at us from the camera’s digital screen. The expression was placid, the eyes hollow and devoid of emotion.
I’d seen this look before, on the library ghost. This distant stare of something that wasn’t wholly here.
“That is… really creepy,” Jacob said.
“We just escaped a hallway full of teeth and this is what you find creepy?” I said.
“No, that was creepy too. I can be terrified by multiple things at once.”
We all stared at the photo for a good few minutes, trying to commit the face to memory because we were not going to retain any copies of it. Then Jacob deleted the photo, handed me the camera, and we awkwardly went our separate ways.
I got out my phone as soon as we’d all walked off. My theory was looking plausible, but there was one more thing I could do to confirm I was on the right track.
I texted Grayson. I asked him if the children before him, the ones the president adopted, were all male.
They were.
The library ghost. The stabbed student. And now… the steam ghost.
All former students. All male. All trapped on campus after their deaths.
And for at least two of them, they seemed to have something against Grayson.
They don’t like Grayson because he replaced them.
Update: HOLY SHIT Y’ALL BATTERIES EXPLODE WHEN YOU SET THEM ON FIRE

URL: https://www.commonsensemedia.org/articles/parents-ultimate-guide-to-discord-2024
Title: “Parents' Ultimate Guide to Discord (2024)”
Author: Common Sense Media
Date Published: February 8, 2024
In today's digital age, Discord has emerged as a popular communication platform among children. It offers a place for children where they can connect and share interests. The app uses various forms of communication, including text, voice, and video. However, as with any social media, it is essential for parents to understand the potential benefits and risks that can come with it. The article, "Parents' Ultimate Guide to Discord," published by Common Sense Media on February 8th, 2024, provides a thorough look through of Discord's features and its impact on children.
First Media Key: Balance
In the book Infinite Bandwidth, the first media key emphasizes the importance of balance. When using media, It is important to have the virtue of temperance in order to maintain healthy media habits as “it ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable.” (Gan, pg. 31). The article states that Discord can be a valuable tool for children to communicate and build a community with their peers as it “is a free app for mobile and PC that lets people chat via text, voice, or video in real time." (Common Sense Media, 2024). But, it is essential for children to balance their time on the app with other activities as Discord's features, such as chatting in servers, can lead to excessive use and detract from real-world interactions and responsibilities. With the ever growing use social media today, parents cannot stop their children from using apps for communication. Parents must be their children’s guide and example in learning to have a healthy balance of online and offline communication. So, parents must encourage their children to have temperance when using Discord so that they can still enjoy the app's benefits without it dominating or harming their lives.
Second Media Key: Attitude Awareness
When applying the second key of attitude awareness, prudence must be used as it “is the virtue that disposes practical reason to discern our true good in every circumstance and to choose the right means of achieving it.” (Gan, pg. 47). The article highlights the necessity of attitude awareness regarding the content and interactions on Discord. Children should be discerning about the communities they join and the conversations they engage in because “it's all user-generated, there's the potential for plenty of inappropriate content, like swearing and graphic language and images". (Common Sense Media, 2024). The article does a good job pointing out that while Discord has privacy settings and safety features, the open chat environment can expose children to inappropriate content and interactions with strangers. Parents must be their children's guardians, bringing awareness to the dangers of messages that could be sent to them. Parents should discuss with their children the importance of prudence, and help them learn to make good, wise decisions about who they communicate with and what they share.
Third Media Key: Dignity of the Human Person
The third media key centers on the dignity of the human person, which involves using the virtue of justice. Justice is an important virtue to have when using any form of social media as it “disposes one to respect the rights of each,” as well as, “promotes equity with regard to persons and to the common good.” (Gan, pg 62-63). Respecting the dignity of the human person means engaging in respectful, positive communication and avoiding harmful, negative behaviors. The article talks about the presence of both supportive and harmful interactions and that "Discord has privacy and safety settings that allow users to control who has the ability to send them direct messages or add them as a friend." (Common Sense Media, 2024). If not for these, children could receive harmful, or even dangerous messages. These features allow parents to protect their children and their dignity.
Fourth Media Key: Truth-filled
The fourth media key highlights the importance of truth. The virtue of fortitude is necessary for children to seek and uphold truth as it “strengthens the resolve to resist temptations and to overcome obstacles in the moral life” (Gan, pg. 79). The article explains that while Discord can be a good platform for talking to others by sharing knowledge and engaging in discussions,"There are several educational servers and as well as Student Hubs" (Common Sense Media, 2024). Discord can also be used to possibly spread misinformation and falsehoods as "Each server on Discord has both text and voice channels," and "You can share images, video, and GIFs on Discord" (Common Sense Media, 2024). Parents should encourage their children to lean on the virtue of fortitude to help them verify information and be cautious when using Discord.
Fifth Media Key: Inspiring
The fifth media key focuses on the inspiring potential of media, it “encourges us to expect the best from media” (Gan, pg. 94). Discord's communities and collaborative features can inspire children to learn, create, and connect with others who share their interests and help spread goodness and positivity. As previously mentioned in the article, Discord has educational servers and Student Hubs which “connects them with their classmates in a private server where they can create study groups and interest clubs." (Common Sense Media, 2024).
Sixth Media Key: Skillfully Developed
The sixth media key centers on the quality and creation of media. Discord's user-generated content varies widely in quality and appropriateness because “in this day and age, we all can be media-makers” (Gan, pg. 110). The article highlights the importance of properly managing children’s online environment in Discord. Children should be encouraged to join well-moderated servers that promote meaningful, positive interactions. This can easily be achieved with Discord as "Server owners can also set their own rules for what is or isn't allowed (for example, swearing or hate speech) and block from chat any users who break the rules." (Common Sense Media, 2024). Discord has also created many privacy settings and features "Family Center is a Discord feature that allows parents and caregivers to monitor their kids' activity on the app." (Common Sense Media, 2024), allowing Parents to help guide their children to use Discord thoughtfully and carefully. Discord has skillfully made it parents to monitor what their children are up to and who they are talking to, ensuring their safety online.
Seventh Media Key: Motivated by and Relevant to Experience
The seventh and final media key emphasizes the importance of creating an experience through media that appeals to children's thoughts and emotions. It inspires their actions and calls them to have the virtue of charity, which “is friendship and communion” (Gan, pg. 128). Discord follows this key through its features, where children can create meaningful interactions that resonate with each other. "Users also create private servers to chat with friends while they play together. For example, a team on Fortnite could create a private server on Discord to chat and strategize together" (Common Sense Media, 2024). Children can also form communities with each other around shared interests; "just about any topic is represented on Discord" (Common Sense Media, 2024). Discord is a great platform that motivates and is relevant to children. It enhances their real-world relationships and interests through communication and collaboration.

Proof
https://imgur.com/a/whTJpK9
1976 complete set of Canada Olympics. 28 silver coins. 30.24 total ozs. $1035
https://imgur.com/a/bGrucHu
Silver bullion
US Silver Corp 1974 world trade 1oz- $32
https://imgur.com/a/WsAGl7t
https://imgur.com/a/Nf1YWWi
Canada Silver stamp- Nonsuch 1968 $45
https://imgur.com/a/EJxzHXx
Astrology bullion Two, 1/2 oz each $33 for the pair
https://imgur.com/a/lffQIrM
Andrew Jackson liberty lobby 1991 240 grains silver $15
https://imgur.com/a/4vFj87v
2017 Canada big horn sheep 3/4oz proof69 2018 Canada wolverine 3/4oz proof69 https://imgur.com/a/d2UZJoG Both for $66 or $35 each
2023 silver Krugerrand MS69 $35
https://imgur.com/a/CuKTEfA
2021S silver eagle $40 emergency production MS69
https://imgur.com/a/vY8caDp
Silver round Eisenhower addresses troops at Normandy $33 1oz
https://imgur.com/a/JQUKy3K
https://imgur.com/a/k9YVYMy
George bush 1oz silver gold plated 24k $33
https://imgur.com/a/DlxvepK
Gold
1992 Cook Island $50 coin Proof Panda 14k, .25oz $373
https://imgur.com/a/da0ep0y
https://imgur.com/a/TtofpBu
2000 Jahre Christnetum Austrian Gold Coin 500 Schilling 10g, .986 fine $742
https://imgur.com/a/ANFIViv
https://imgur.com/a/lZLZRiA
1904 Russia gold coin 5 Rubles $385
https://imgur.com/a/p9oWKOd
https://imgur.com/a/S9ZaUqw
https://imgur.com/a/lVM62Fu
Gouden Dukaat 1989 proof 3.494g plus numismatic value $260
https://imgur.com/a/xjmfaSX
https://imgur.com/a/SMIHQUg
1909 20F gold coin, 6.46g $455
https://imgur.com/a/c6LqbxB
https://imgur.com/a/10A2Qb4
Silver coins
Lot of 3 coins-$21 George Washington 1982 half dollar 90% Two 1976 Washington quarter proof 90%
Statue of Liberty Centennial 1986 Statue Of Liberty Washington Crossing Delaware 28.6 Grams Sterling Silver .925 collector coin $42
One Peso Filipinas 1908S $55
https://imgur.com/a/6aTy3EA
1970 Egypt nasser commemorative $32
WWII 50th anniversary silver coin D-Day $34 1991-1995 26g .9 highly collectible low mintage
https://imgur.com/a/xzkxVPw
Eisenhower Liberia $20 silver coin 20g .999 Low mintage $26 proof
https://imgur.com/a/Jq95ugr
Douglas Arthur Philippines one Peso $50
https://imgur.com/a/1y1G1Fp
1960 South Africa 5 shillings silver coin $30
https://imgur.com/a/twGBcLo
$6 for <6ozs $10 >6ozs SFRB Gold coins $10 each or all, shipped priority
Shipping is USPS from NJ I will email a picture of the tracking receipt. Once tracking sent, assumed delivered.
I can take more pictures just ask.
Insurance is optional paid by the buyer I accept Venmo, Zelle and PayPal friends and family only. If you want to use goods and services please pay the ~2% extra that they charge me. I used Internet and online auctions to determine prices. Make offer if you think they are unfair. Thank you for looking.
Cross listed in CoinSales with some non-PM that are in the proof picture (Mexican coins and Canadian coins)

Ended up here after searching reddit for 'comfortable and supportive bralettes' and seeing many comments about finding the right fight making even underwire bras more comfortable. I am measuring as a 30 H/I (loose under bust 29.5, snug 29, tight 28, standing bust 36, leaning bust 38, lying bust 36.5).
Looking to try a couple new bras. I need something very comfortable as I work in a pediatric clinic setting but also supportive and giving a bit of lift/shape (wearing anything from athleisure to casual or even business casual) and spend a lot of my day crawling/running after kids, lifting and generally moving around a lot. Would like something that isn't noticeable under white or snug/thin t-shirts.
I also would prefer to order online (guessing that's my best option for my size too) and want free returns. I've heard some things about the difference between US/UK sizing- are there some brands that I will have to convert the size I've gotten above?
Edit to add a bit about shape: I think more projected, bottom full and center full. Although the lean forward test seemed to indicate center full, I seem wide set and breasts tend to fall outwardly.
Thank you!

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

hey! i’m skiee (like the sky) from the US and im hoping to make some new online friends! i enjoy learning about psychology, true crime, watching horror, getting tattoos, smoking, and spending time outdoors!
if you wanna be friends, message me, im always down to talk! 😊

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

So, we all know that Kramnik is on a total tear about cheating, and just doesn't seem to be able to get past this, and go about living his life.. Why is that? Well, when you look at cheating in chess from a high, 1000-foot view, we know there ARE cheaters, so his stance has "some" merit... But why is Kramnik in particular so obsessed with this "conspiracy theory" that online cheating is extremely widespread, and pretty much unchecked?
Let's look at the "root cause" for someone who is a conspiracy theorist... From an evolutionary standpoint, we are apes whose brains evolved in such a way as to support living in larger and larger groups. We evolved specific brain functions that allow us to operate in large social groups. To get information on others in the group that can be used to improve our own social standing, and as a result, the social standing of our offspring. If we happen to be better at identifying relevant information that can be used in this way, our offspring carry that gene forward.
Our brains developed such that we are biologically "encouraged" to seek out information known to few in the group, as rare information is generally more valuable. So the brain, whenever we feed it a bit of "inside information", dumps a microhit of dopamine, to encourage the behavior. This explains how popular gossiping is in general. When you gossip, the brain identifies the gossip as "inside information that has a possibility of increasing our social standing", and as such, rewards participation in gossip with small dopamine hits.
Now... How does someone go from World Champion caliber player like Kramnik, to a full blown, obsessed conspiracy theorist? Dopamine addiction. Because of the way dopamine (and pretty much all other drugs) functions, regular dopamine exposure in the brain downregulates the dopamine receptors, which means that the "user" needs more of a stimulus to get the same "high".
The thing about conspiracy theorists is.. They rarely ever just believe in ONE conspiracy theory. Because exposure to a specific one downregulates the dopamine receptors, the "user" then has to find another conspiracy theory even more outlandish than the first.. Doesn't matter if the person is extremely logical, such as say... A chess grandmaster... The brain has circuitry that "turns off" logical evaluation of the theory, so that the person can continue to get their "fix". Funny thing about this? The compromise of the logical evaluation only seems to apply to the very narrow topic of their conspiracy theories... So Kramnik can still play great, logical chess... It is only when he gets going on his favorite subject of cheating, that his ability to accurately evaluate incoming information is compromised. It is a behavior EXTREMELY common in drug addicts. Their brain comes to whatever conclusion gets them their "hit".. Actual truth does not play that big a part.
So, TL;DR: It kinda feels like Kramnik dipped his toe too much into the conspiracy theory pool. Because the way that dopamine addiction works, entertaining the first major conspiracy theory almost inevitably leads to more and more pronounced buyin to their chosen conspiracy theories, and the brain discounts any evidence that disagrees with ours, as a means to keep up the dopamine flow. So if Kramnik seems like he is a little crazy these days, I think we should entertain the idea that he is a simple victim of biology. He, (much like Bobby Fischer, likely....) has a brain that is hypersensitive to those micro dopamine hits, so conspiracy theories, once he dipped his toe in, grabbed ahold of him, and his own brain is actively working against efforts to rationally evaluate the evidence/statistics..

I want to feel better. I lost my triplet sibling the weekend of thanksgiving last year, and the pain is still intense. I feel like I haven’t gotten any support. I’m in therapy, but no one checks up on me. There’s obvious discomfort when I bring it up, so I don’t. It just feels like old news to everyone. I feel like I can no longer relate to anyone anymore. My mom doesn’t have much to say, my dad is completely closed off emotionally (he wouldn’t even let any of us see them for weeks after her death) and my sister has too much on her plate although she has been a bit of a help, as has my husband. But I still feel so incredibly isolated. I wanted to look into support groups because I’ve been desperate to connect with others who understand. I can’t find anything. Either the hours don’t match up (I work nights) or they’re religious based (I am a nonbeliever and a Christian based program will not help me. I found virtual meetings online but that seems so impersonal. I don’t even know what to do anymore. I’m barely surviving.