Strap up. This is a doozy and I’d love opinions.
I am 2 months out of a 14 year relationship with my ex husband. He’s left the home and currently has the kids. He lives with his girlfriend. I’m learning how to be alone and it’s not fun but I’m learning..
I’ve been dating around mostly on bumble. Last month a guy complimented my profile and said I look like I’d be worth a long term relationship and would put time into me. So he’s came over 3-4 times and I really vibed with him. Great personality. I genuinely liked him. The downside is he isn’t a great replier and prefers to play apex instead of talking to me or hanging out. Then he mentioned not wanting a girlfriend so I was confused.. He also mentioned he doesn’t share so didn’t want me sleeping around and he wouldn’t either. I asked for him to come over more because I genuinely enjoy his company and he’d always flake for the game and just not give me a heads up. I realized I deserve better than that. I do like having someone’s attention and time but I could go a week without seeing him and I’d definitely want to see him. So before Mother’s Day I mentioned not sleeping together anymore and just being friends since he didn’t want a girlfriend and I liked him. I was trying to protect my own heart. The next day he snapped me like is the real reason you don’t want to sleep with me anymore because you really like me too much or I don’t fxxx you enough? Honestly it was I liked him and wanted to see him more but it seemed he wasn’t as interested in me. Well he ended up coming over and hanging out before Mother’s Day. Took me to dinner and mentioned he may want to date me in 6 weeks we just have to get to know each other. That was the last time I’ve seen him and I’ve asked him to come over multiple times and he flaked out. Then he went 3 days without a snap and finally was like “I sat on apex for 3 days straight” and I was like wow, am I not even deserving of anything? It felt he ghosted me and he was like it wasn’t deliberate but it still felt that way. I told him look, I’ll just leave you alone and let you do your own thing. So I took my snooze off bumble. Today he snaps me and shows me my bumble profile and was like look I told you I don’t share so I’m done pursuing anything with you.
My feelings got hurt. I tried multiple times to communicate with him that I liked him and was interested in something and obviously more than he was interested in me. I even get the video game thing because I love video games myself.
But he said basically I can’t go 10 days without validation or foaming at the mouth for sex. Which that hurt too because I feel like seeing someone even once a week isn’t too much to ask. I’d prefer to see him multiple times.
I laid it all out. I explained I liked him and was trying to protect my heart. I can be alone but I do like for someone to text me even a few times a day so I know I’m on their mind. I’m not saying we have to go jump into a relationship but I felt like if he wanted to see me more, he would but his video game is more important. Which he’s a single fatherless man and can do that. I even told him I only wish the best for him and if he wants to stream and be good I hope he can be.
But my feelings are hurt and it sucks and I just wanted to vent here. I’m so sad. I obviously know I liked him more than he liked me and it just sucks.

We met online with a 1.5 hour commute between us - It was lovebomb at first sight. The first date (june 2023) was magic spending 10 hours at the beach in the water. I had a feeling after just a week of knowing him... facetimes or texts every 3-5 hours, seeing each other every other weekend. It was lovely to have such an incredible connection with someone so quickly and crave them every moment of everyday. I really felt like this was it with the amount of attention/affection he gave me, we would surf and skate together. he said his dream was always to skate with a girl. he told me how important it was to have the same interests as your partner and we also were both into taking film photos and have really special memories captured.
The distance started to take a toll on us 3 months (September) in. It was our first sort of argument he picked about it being almost noon and we hadn't left the house yet to do what we said we would do I was ready and waiting for him to be done playing guitar. But this was all due to him waking up late per usual and his ADHD is so severe he has no idea how quickly time goes by while He will do 4 things at once and then complain about not enough time in the day.
We ended up breaking up because he kept saying "I don't Know" when I Would ask him what he wants. We both crying I packed all my things and then I said why don't we enjoy the day and do what we said we would do and then I'll go home. We ended up enjoying the afternoon and he cried to me about how he can't lose me and how foolish he was to start an argument.
OK fast forward 2 weeks in September we had plans to go camping for the weekend, I booked a dog sitter. the night he was planning to come over he cancels on because there is a rat in his house (he has 3 roommates and the kitchen and pans and cabinets were never cleaned). so I end up taking my oldest dog on the camping trip and leaving the younger one with the sitters. this was my first sign from the universe that things happen for a reason... keep reading.
Then in end of October. My old boy is sick I drive to Mexico for vet care and he offered to come with me both times and then said he had too much work. Mind you, he wakes up at 9am, clocks in from his bed, does his morning routine and doesn't start to work until 11am usually. He will go run errands in the middle of the work day, play guitar and complains about not being a good worker. He even told me a friend called him out for it because he had mentioned it to them a year prior. So he had been knowingly a poor worker for more than the time I have known him. I brushed it off since my dog was #1. 2 weeks later I take the second trip to Mexico which also happened to be the day after I had been put under for a broken finger from a surf accident. he did not come for my surgery to support me and i expressed concern on lifting my 80 lb dog with my finger freshly put back together with a metal plate. yeah he couldn't come he has work. I spend 8 hours in mexico going to 5 hospitals for my sick dog to find answers. while he ended up going to the skatepark after work. I went to stay at his house that night which was nice he setup a bed for me to lay next to my dog on the floor.
the next morning was Friday. I said ok I have to put my baby down this weekend he is so sick. he said ok I am coming over right after work to be with you. that evening he calls me. his friends brother is in town and he is going to go surfing in the morning (saturday) with them and come over right after. I said ok whatever. I was screaming inside.
he comes its fine. sunday I put my dog down. I have the vet come, before hand I had frequencies playing for my baby on spotify and he has the audacity to change it to youtube video to show my cousin a skate clip. I called him out and he dismissed me.
a week after my dog is put down we have another (many not even mentioned because its painful) butting heads episode of him telling me knitting is not faster than crocheting and he has the experience since he was around it when his friends crocheted so i should listen to him. mind you I have been crocheting for 10 years i have never knitted so i mentioned i was going to start knitting and he told me how much slower it is and i just genuinely don't know so i said oh I didn't know and I don't know what to expect and because I didn't say I believe you it was this terrible icky feeling in my gut I didn't even wanna talk to him anymore. I was telling him how excited I Was about something and he would always shoot me down. so I called him later that evening after work to discuss it and of course he is driving to the skatepark and he says he needs to go skate and feels bad energy after me calling him to talk about the knitting crocheting mishap and he goes "your life has been so depressing lately" and I was just so taken back by that and hurt I don't even remember what my response was but I should have hungup and never talked to him again. I don't remember what happened but I let it go.
then a couple weeks later (November) its 2 weeks from Thanksgiving, he says his roommate is making a fried turkey and invites me i am so excited because I am 2,000 miles from my family so I begin to prepare what meals I want to make. a week before Thanksgiving he facetimes me and says he has exciting news that hes going to mexico for thanksgiving to surf with his friends. I was so sad, I asked him why he would make plans in place of what we planned and he just said it was a special opportunity and so I felt i had no choice and didn't fight it. i realize at this point of typing all of this I enabled alot of this behavior.
that evening I sent a video message to him about how hurt I was and how inconsiderate he is of my feelings and the fact that I am his girlfriend and his friends and what he wants to do comes before me always. the next morning he apologizes via text and then is quite throughout the day which is very odd because he texts every 3 hours pretty much. I ask how his day is going and he says it started off shitty because of the message he received from me that morning, it wasn't the "best way to start the day". so again I am dismissed for sharing my feelings. and I let it go again.
Thanksgiving comes and I take my other dog camping to the spot I took my recently passed dog. Fast forward December he was visting at my house and I have been working on training my younger dog he has leash reactivity. I say "here" and treat dog when we pass other dogs so he associates quiet still behavior with a reward in this moment. Ok so then he suggests I teach dog a different word that would associate a dog is coming and that my dog needs to behave............ I said that is exactly why I say "here". He continues and starts to raise his voice, "you aren't listening to me, teach him a different word like leave it" and I said ok but he still isn't good with "here" so why would i give him another word to learn? it turned into an explosive fight. we broke up the next night and he is bawling his eyes out and so am I. a week goes by we get back together because I can't help but think he has potential to be this amazing partner he talks about all these things he wants out of someone and I check every box but he just would pick this random little arguments and then be so indecisive of what he wants to break up or not.
I told him how I wanted to do yoga teacher training he says "theres already a lot of yoga teachers". I told him I was going to costa rica with my girlfriend for a surf trip and he says "why would you go with her and not me? how long have you known her? your level of surfing isn't even at the par to go to costa rica" but he had already gone on 2 surf trips with friends. he would dismiss me time and time again. he would criticize everything I do. even telling him something I saw happen he would qualify everything I said and question what I saw was true.
His birthday comes in January and prior to this I told him how excited I am and important it is to spend brithdays together and shower each other. I make him a cake the night before and set up my dog for daycare. I drive to work keep his cake in the fridge and then after pick up dog from daycare and drive 2 hours to see him and celebrate. He then tells me he booked a trip to skate in Spain with his friends over my birthday. I was so heartbroken I wanted to throw up I asked him if he takes me seriously and he said yes of course and we both cry I am so furious I should have left but I didn't. I then tell him how disgusting his house and its been 8 months and hes never bought me flowers. the next day he brings flowers to the coffee shop I went to work at. I went back to his house after and broke up with him yet again. I burned a picture of him he gave me. I really tried to move on. he hurt me so much and would dismiss me all the time.
I don't know why but we got back together again. he started watching dharma talks I would send him (mindfulness talks, Tara Brach, Jack Kornfield, Ram Dass kind of stuff) because he knew how selfish and self centered he was and he admited it every time we broke up but made no effort and this last break up he really did seem to make an effort.
we didn't see each other for 40 days and he came over in April for a weekend we went to the art museaum he was in the middle of a story and we were getting kicked out I asked him if he can take my picture quick and he flips, "I can never finish a story it takes forever all the time" he takes my picture and then I stop being silent. I tell him you are the storyteller all the time I never tell you stories because its always about your stories I remind him I haven't been to an art museum in ages and i want a photo in that moment and your story already happened so why cant it wait a moment??? he then woke up a little and saw my perspective. and then the next day we went to surf, the surfboards are in the car we go thrifting and he says oh we can't be in there for even 30 minutes someone will steal the boards he had all this concern on the surfboards and I was like why did we come here then...? lets just leave but no we go inside and of course 15 min in he says ok! 15 more min! and then later that night I said why did you make such a big fuss and then you don't even live the truth you say? he says yeah I wanted to come apologize to you but I didn't and I am like are you kidding?! come on please I need you to take accountability for your actions this is part of being an adult!! and then he admits to being a "whiny baby" and I was like yes you are a huge baby and youre a grown ass man! anyways it was a very nice talk while I was actually able to talk and he was listening very well.
Ten days ago was my birthday, I went camping with my dog. He told me he would facetime me on my birthday he only sent a text in the morning from spain mentioning "I wish I could be with you" whatever crock of s*/t. he never called me. I saw his friends posting on IG though so I know they had Wi-Fi. I sent a picture of my camp and said "we made it, thanks for calling like you said you would :(" that was my last text to him.
the next morning he gave every excuse, "sooooo sorry I didn't get to facetime you" we were so busy blah blah blah. its like if you wanted to make the effort you would? sends another text asking how camp was and what are we doing that day and then another one 8 hours later apologizing saying how truly bad he feels and hopes I am willing to speak with him but could understand how I wouldnt want to and says he blew it.
I never responded. He never even tried to call me to apologize just 4 total texts. I blocked him from seeing my IG stories. I am so heartbroken that I spend a year thinking I was with this wonderful person who wants the same things as me to learn that all he wants is to skate and surf and not do any hard work or put any effort into life he has not made any growth the entire almost year I have known him.
I have made so many advancements in my own life. I sold my motorcycle, rented out my garage, laid brick in my yard by myself never offered to help, I starting selling all of my vintage at pop ups I did 3 and he never came to any. I broke my finger and put my dog of 11 years down. I have a really wonderful job and I also stick to my word and do what I Tell people I am going to do.
I can't help but be missing him. Wanting to work it out. I act impulsively quite often but I know in my gut this man would not stand up for me if times got tough like he hasnt this whole year. can people really change? do I owe closure to him?

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.’
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
‘How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
‘We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
‘Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
‘Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
‘He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
‘What?’
‘Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
‘What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.’
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
“They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.”
“This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.”
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:

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

Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
‘Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.’
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
‘Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.’
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?’
The vibrator jokes never stop.

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Chapter 168 – The moment to live and the moment to die
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„Jumping!“ an Ensign announced loudly as the Sun's view-windows very briefly flickered into a dark black only to go back to a full view of the ongoing battle basically instantly, having barely shifted the ship's position at incomprehensible speed. „Shot clear of allied ships.“
Vice-Admiral Kazadi tapped his finger on one of the armrests of the Commander's seat that still felt anything but comfortable for him to sit in as the tight grid of flashing lights reflected in his eyes within the twilight of the bridge.
“Fire,” he then ordered. Not even a blink later, a burst of colorful light broke into his view from the side of his very own ship, lighting up the entirety of the bridge even through the automatically tinting windows that absorbed a lot of the harmful light so the crew wouldn't flashbang themselves with each shot.
The relativity canon fire tore through the enemy ship at an almost literal instant with any travel time barely being conceivable to a mortal mind. In a large unload of energy that left almost the entire stern-side of the zodiatos ship as a molten mass of dispersing slag, the main propulsion was taken out. Simultaneously, the two accompanying cruisers had also taken their shots; with the 'Civil' taking out the engine of one more enemy vessel while the 'of the roses' had instead used its shot to disperse one of the enemy projectiles in order to buy their own hunter ships more freedom of movement. Those huge ones didn't go down easy from one of the hunters' smaller shots, so using one of the large canons to dispatch it took some of the heat off them.
Meanwhile, smaller targets on the enemy vessels, such as their own canons, were gradually taken out by said hunters, whose own fire – while able to be quite destructive if intended no doubt – could be used in a far more precise manner. With more and more of their canons failing, the protective volleys the coreworld terrorists could fire to hide themselves away also became less and less effective.
“Send the fallback-beacon,” Kazadi then ordered, since close quarter attacks became less and less necessary.
It seemed that the zodiatos had a hard time adjusting to the combat style of the human unkindnesses, however that didn't mean they should take any unnecessary risks. Even if a pilot could've been able to avoid all enemy attacks in a perfect world, he knew that his pilots were only human.
Casualties of their own had been comparatively minimal so far, however as if to prove him right about his thoughts, he could see on his surveillance screen how, just in that moment, one of their ships was taken out by an enemy craft.
He grimaced to himself and let out a mild sigh. One more family who would never see one of their own again...
It took a moment before all the ships were reached by the beacon. Due to the nature of their own combat strategies, as well as the particular nature of hyperspace, it was entirely impossible to effectively contact any of their ships directly while they were out in the battle. Therefore, the order to fall back had to be broadcast as a general signal, that each of the pilots could individually pick up as soon as they would keep still for long enough so that it could reach them.
By now, the battle was already won. None of the zodiatos' weapons were able to match the relativity canons in effective range and without the larger ships to back them up, their small hunters wouldn't be able to launch an offensive – shields or not. They could just stay back and fire until surrender now. As the signal was picked up, one of their ships after another disappeared in one last flash of hyperspace as they joined back up with the larger vessels in an enclosing formation.
“Prepare for the retrieval of some of those projectiles,” the Vice-Admiral then ordered as he hoped they would be able to track some of those spent shots their enemies had fired. They would have to figure out what kind of tech that was.
In such a small-scale conflict, it was more than manageable to face it. However, it could offer some difficulties in larger fleets – especially since they didn't know how far this kind of tech could possible be expanded and refined. It was quite possible this was just some form of prototype.
While that order was followed, one of his Lieutenants suddenly spoke up.
“Sir, we have an incoming transmission from the planet. Civilian. Not encrypted, but they seemingly had an access code,” they related quickly.
“Is the earlier interference cleared up?” he immediately asked back, to which the answer was positive. “Put it through then,” he immediately ordered as soon as he heard that.
He rubbed one of his tight braids between his fingers as he waited for contact to be established. Once the line was clear, things remained quiet for a moment.
“What are we best at?” he then asked the silent line, his chest tightening ever so slightly, even if he didn't have to wait long for a reply.
“Topping from the bottom,” a very familiar voice replied from the other end, sounding incredibly strained but most certainly alive.
The code phrase was an old in-joke about something that had been said back during humanity's first contact with the tonamstrosites due to a slightly choppy translation. However, it more than sufficed here to tell Kazadi that the person on the other side of the line was not only genuine, but also not in any immediate distress – at least none that was brought onto her by someone else.
“Good to hear your voice Ma'am,” he greeted the Admiral after taking a brief moment to allow his heart to settle.
“The pleasure is all mine, Celestin,” Admiral Krieger replied in between heavy breaths that sounded like a combination between being ready to collapse and absolutely willing to tear anyone's throat out at a moment's notice. “Excuse me for the unorthodox contact, my own means of communication have all been destroyed. Update me.”
A brief smile played on the Vice-Admiral's lips.
“No problem, Ma'am. Things are under control up here, but multiple allied coluyvoree ships were destroyed and we suffered some casualties of our own which I will take full responsibility for,” he quickly complied. “By now, the enemy crafts have been largely disabled and our fighters are falling back. What's the situation on your end?”
There was a bit of a grunt from the other side of the line that seemed unrelated to the ongoing conversation.
“I'm sure you did everything by the books,” Krieger then replied a moment later. “Down here the situation is precarious but momentarily under control. We have an unconfirmed number of casualties after an attack with an unknown weapon. All squads are either KIA or unresponsive. We took down six enemy combatants but can't confirm if there's more. I'm going to need clean up, rescue teams, as well as pickup for me and two large offworlders asap.”
Celestin nodded.
“We're in a stable position, so we'll jump teams down right away. Hold out just a minute more,” he assured her while already signing in the necessary order to the troops they had on standby. “How bad are your injuries?”
There was another groan of pain from Krieger's side.
“Crushed cranberries,” she replied after a long moment that sounded like she needed to catch her breath.
“Copy that,” Kazadi replied with a grimace. “Sending muti-team with the evac.”
“Copy that,” Krieger confirmed. “Krieger out.”
With that, the call was hung up. On his screen, Celestin could see how the preparations for dispatch of the requested teams was already well underway. Jumping towards a planet at FTL was generally discouraged by the Galactic Community. However, this was an emergency. They couldn't wait for normal re-entry.
After watching the reported progress for just a moment, his eyes returned to the ongoing battle. He watched the enemy ships as they hovered dead in space, unable to maneuver.
They seemed to have recalled their own fighters back in order to form some sort of protective wall around the 'mother ships' with their own small shields. Obviously it wouldn't be very effective, so it seemed like needless cruelty to make their own soldiers get in the way of the incoming fire. Something within Kazadi told the Vice-Admiral they weren't going to stand down.
“Sir, we're getting some strange hyperspace-readings,” his Lieutenant suddenly announced, making him look up.
“Weapon-grade?” he immediately asked, knowing they had less than a moment to react if it was. However, he also figured there would've been more urgency to their voice had it been so.
“No, Sir. Travel-grade,” the Lieutenant quickly replied. “However the readings are unusual. It seems like they are creating a stretch solely around themselves.”
Kazadi's lips shifted a bit as he took that in and he briefly ran a hand over his mouth in thought. “Prepare to collapse,” he ordered. “Maybe they will attempt some sort of running start. We can't let them get away.”
Right then, the light of what was happening had not yet caught up to the spacial distortion that their sensors were detecting, meaning the ships still looked perfectly normal – if damaged – when he looked at them. However, they were planning something. And that made them appear all the more ominous.
His mind quickly went through their own protocols. The U.H.S.D.F. employed hyperspace in nearly all its possible facets in their tactics. If it was even close to sensible, they would have something that was akin to the maneuver their foes were attempting to execute right now.
A bubble of hyperspace solely around their ships...a dodge? Hardly, there was nothing to dodge like that. An attempt to hide away? No, they knew human ships could collapse hyperspace from the outside easily.
Before him, the windows of the ship once again automatically dimmed, protecting the crew's eyes as the colorful light of the created hyperspace-bubble finally reached them.
“Hyperspace collapsed!” the Lieutenant then suddenly announced, causing Kazadi to blink in surprise as his eyes shot up to his screen. He hadn't given any order to collapse it yet. But indeed, it was gone. For a moment, he thought that the stress had caused his officer to use the wrong term in haste, however no, they had been completely right. It had not been dispersed in a controlled manner. It had collapsed.
In a mild 'thud', the Vice-Admiral's fist descended on the armrest, hand firmly clenched into a fist.
“Those cowardly ba-” he began to growl but then bit his tongue and released a low, almost grunting exhale while his fist quivered from momentarily clenching tighter. “Prepare to search for survivors,” he instead said in a much more controlled manner a moment later. “Preserve lives.”
“Yessir,” multiple of his officers echoed back as he looked out of the window, where he could still see the ghostly afterimage of the hyperspace bubble linger for a bit longer. It was always a strange feeling, seeing someone in the distance who was already dead...
–
With her view darkened and her goggles momentarily pulled off her eyes, Shida stared at the glowing bubble of impossible colors. Her sensors had already told her what was about to happen at any moment now, however her eyes still heavily constricted as they finally witnessed what unfolded themselves.
In what could be described as nothing else than a 'snap' , the light of the hyperspace-stretch instantly condensed down into its original size as the universe all at once remembered that the laws of physics were a thing that existed and brutally forced space to conform to them once again – no matter what may have been in between it and its original form.
Anything within the strange, round stretch was mercilessly ripped along with the convulsion, forcing all the injected warships and fighters into the single, small point that the stretch had been generated from. Though not even a faction of a second later, it all exploded outwards again as the megatons of mass realized that they could not all exist in the same place at once, since the energy of the event was not quite potent enough to press it all into a neutron star or singularity.
No longer recognizable blotches of undefined, white-hot matter were instantly scattered in all directions like some sort of micro-supernova that accentuated the sometimes still burning nano-stars that the earlier battle had created from the opposing fighters.
It was almost pretty...but still, Shida couldn't help but let her ears hang as she wondered how many of the enemy combatants had known about the decision to end things this way. Had any of them even been asked?
Even if it was the far more disturbing answer in a way, Shida almost hoped that this had actually been one mutual suicide-pact instead of the decision of one single commander to choose death over dishonor. Especially while sitting in a ship that was technically under the command of someone else herself, that was certainly the less immediately petrifying option – even if it would probably spell far worse things in the long run.
As she said there, the 'shockwave' of the collapsing hyperspace suddenly hit her, spreading out through space even without any medium to carry it and rocking her ship gently while also penetrating all throughout her body. Of course the earlier relativity fire had already caused similar ripples and she was therefore quite used to the feeling, however these ones sure felt a bit more severe than those of the U.H.S.D.F.'s own canons. It was like she felt her own body distort while also remaining perfectly in palace – almost like she was a stiff container full of water that someone had given a heavy smack from the side, riling up the liquid without it actually having any place to plash to.
According to everything they knew, this phenomenon felt incredibly odd but was entirely harmless to living beings – which was instinctively very hard to believe when one felt it on their own body.
However, her dwelling thoughts were, perhaps luckily, interrupted as she – or more precisely one of her scanners - picked up on a peculiar signature that one of the scattered debris pieces was sending out.
Well, it was 'peculiar' to her that there was a signal at all at first, however then she quickly realized what it actually was. This particular signal was hammered into any pilot's head six ways to Sunday, and so she reacted relatively quickly when she glanced at the grid and realized that she was the closest ship to it. Firing up her engines, she turned her ship on the spot in a slight drift before activating her generator and making a jump right behind the flying object.
Once there, she allowed her computer to take aim for a second before firing out a harpoon that quickly struck the flying debris and latched her ship onto it through a long cable, allowing her to pull the thing along with her after slowly using her backwards thrusters to disperse its speed little by little. Pressing the indicator of her communication, she then spoke up.
“Scratches to Sun,” she announced. “I just recovered a black box. Permission to return for inspection?”
The black boxes of modern ships truly were among the most ridiculous pieces of tech out there, in Shida's humble opinion. Built to withstand almost everything that would likely take a ship out through a combination of brilliant engineering and extremely flexible material that only worked in its indented manner on very small scales. Well, very small compared to the ships they were built into. The things were about half the size of Shida in the end. For many years, armies of scientists had attempted their very best to make this same sort of defense useful in ways that could maybe be used to protect actual people from catastrophic events – but to no avail so far. For now, the only thing those little marvels could allow to survive even something as ludicrous as hyperspace collapsing was information.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant-Commander,” the answer came almost immediately. “Return to hangar three.”
“Copy,” Shida replied. “Scratches out.”
With that, she moved her ship around and prepared for her jump back to the Sun. Hopefully this thing would give them some answers on what exactly this whole thing was meant to accomplish...
–
Far away in another part of the galaxy, a pair of mildly glowing red eyes was laser-focused on a large screen that was just one of many that had merged all over Nedstaniot-Station to broadcast the breaking news to anyone willing to lift their eyes at a slight angle to look at them.
An attack on a coreworld. And not just any coreworld. Gewelitten itself. Something like this hadn't happened in...well, Curi didn't even know how long.
Details seemed to still be incredibly fuzzy as the battle so close to the coluyvoree homeworld had either just happened or was still happening at the moment of the broadcast, however what few details were known were already repeated on end in an endless scroll of text that was meant to catch as many people up to speed as was at all possible through the medium of television. Obviously the same emerging details could already be looked up on the net as well to find them in a more digestible format than the endlessly moving text next to the not exactly top quality footage of the occurring conflict.
However, despite the speed with which it went by, Curi had no problem following the scroll as they stared at the screen intensely.
“Attack was unannounced. Multiple Gewelitten fleet ships destroyed. Official sources confirm: Humanity NOT the aggressor. Attacking ships presumed to be of zodiatos origin. Unknown weapon technology deployed during the attack. U.H.S.D.F. ships engaged in combat after aggression. Myiat delegation ship confirmed unharmed. Attack on government facility on planet simultaneous to spacial attack. Councilman-Candidate Aldwin confirmed unharmed. Status of U.H.S.D.F. General Krieger unknown. Status of Gewelitten Governor H. Cierrophai unknown. Status of Acting-Councilman Afuéhner unknown. Allied coreworld defense fleets activated and inbound. General alert level raised to 8. Hyperspace-travel shut down around the system.”
“Mother, oh no...” Mueen said with absolute shock in his eyes, both of his hands clasped over this mouth as his wide pupils quivered in fear from what they witnessed.
Curi could understand his worry. Though Moar had supposedly been with James, so she would probably be fine. The cyborg was certainly more than just a little relieved that James was already confirmed to be safe. Though the idea that Admiral Krieger's situation was unknown was more than just a little disconcerting.
Though despite the supposed lack of their commanding officer, it seemed like the humans had decisively won out in the battle outside of the coreworld's atmosphere; unknown technology or not.
Given the sub-par footage that some drone was likely recording from quite far away from the actual conflict, it was very hard to tell just what sort of weapon the unknown but presumed to be zodiatos attackers had unleashed there. It looked like some sort of emanating energy that destroyed what it came into contact with but also interacted with it as if it had a physical presence.
Curi had never seen anything remotely like it before – not even in their wildest theories – and their mind immediately wanted to go wild with speculations and ideas about how such a thing might work now that they knew for a fact that it was possible from seeing it with their own eyes.
However, the cyborg pulled themselves together and successfully forced the briefly almost overwhelming desire to focus on nothing else down as they shifted their gaze slightly away from the screen to look over at their other currently nearby company.
Then again, as much as they knew they couldn't let their guard down around him, Reprig's eyes were just as immovably attached to the large screen as Mueen's were as he witnessed the unfolding battle with quivering horror.
His trunk was wiggling wildly in his face and one of his hands nervously scratched over the plate of the table they were all sitting and standing at and on, right next to a piece of paper with a hastily drawn sketch of a spring-like mechanical leg that was inspired by what humans called 'running blades'. The Warrant Officer's weapon also laid on the table, pushed a but further away from his hand so he wouldn't be able to easily reach it.
Though despite his focus, Curi couldn't quite help but speak up after a moment of watching him. “A coreworld attacking another coreworld,” they said to the man, who they knew either had to know far more than they did about this – or would be far more invested in it unfolding. “This is unprecedented.”
Reprig seemed to notice that they were talking to him, however he still remained silent and stared a good few moments longer before finally pulling his gaze away from the screen.
As his eyes met theirs, he looked a bit sick. It almost reminded the cyborg of one of the first interactions they had with the man, back when they nudged him slightly to hand his spy-device back to him after he tried to hide it in James' cabin. Though this time, the cyborg was quite sure that they were not the reason why the man seemed like most of his blood was currently rushing into his stomach.
Could he actually be shocked about what was happening? Was this not part of the plan?
“Unprecedented doesn't even come close to describing it...” he mumbled and couldn't hold the cyborg's gaze for long, looking down to the table's plate instead. “And these aren't just any coreworlds. Osontjar and Gewelitten have been allied for an unimaginably long time. The thought that they would even think of attacking each other...what sort of madness could've caused something like this?”
Curi was the first to admit to themselves that they were far from the best at reading people. If someone with even a modicum of skill in acting wanted to make them believe something untrue about the person they were talking to, they would never deny that there was a good chance of that person succeeding.
Still, Reprig's reaction felt...genuine to them. As if he had actually never expected something like this to happen. Not in a million years.
Maybe it was just skillful acting. And Curi knew that they should have been suspicious like that. However, despite everything he had done, they couldn't quite bring themselves to suspect that he was lying at that moment.
“I know it is unlikely you will give me an honest answer, but-” Curi began to say, however Reprig was more than able to anticipate what they were going to ask and replied long before they were finished.
“No. No. Never,” the sipusserleng said, shaking his head heavily and standing his trunk up while making a denying gesture with his hand that was so brash that he actually knocked his crutch off the small outcrop in the table it had been laid down on. “This must be some absolutely deranged people, no two ways about it. To attack a coreword...”
Curi noticed Reprig's gaze briefly twitching down, his eyes jumping onto the personal assistant strapped to his lower arm as if he suddenly got the urge to use it for something.
Curi suspected he likely wanted to call someone; question them to make extra sure that they had, in fact, nothing to do with this. Though the sipusserleng suppressed the urge and pulled his eyes away, bringing them back up to the screen.
Just at that moment, the implosion of collapsing hyperspace suddenly lit up the footage moments before the glowing remnants of what once had been the zodiatos ships were scattered across the star-system.
Mueen mumbled something in his home's language as his eyes remained affixed to the screen. Curi couldn't even begin to guess what he was saying. However, his voice sounded pleading.
“Suicide instead of surrender?” Reprig meanwhile mouthed breathlessly as his nervous tick of excessively licking his trunk began to show.
Although he had often been otherwise employed in recent times, Curi could see it in the man's eyes that he was still, in a way, military at heart. He knew the general values and doctrines that were conveyed to the soldiers of the Communal Military, both inside and out. And the idea of someone choosing death like this...it seemed to rock him to his very core.
Slowly, he turned his gaze over to Curi. His eyes were almost pleading with the cyborg, even if they seemed to already know that his next question would be asked in vain.
“Could it maybe have been the humans and their-” he began, but this time, it was Curi's term to cut him off after anticipating what was coming.
“While humans very much employ the collapsing of hyperspace as a tactic in war, the process is not invisible – or even subtle. Had the human ships caused that collapse, it would've been noticeable,” they explained succinctly. “It could've still been a mere unexpected failure of the hyperspace generation, of course. However, with the rarity of such events, the timing seems...unlikely.”
“They weren't even trying to generate a real stretch...” Reprig concurred dejectedly and left his head hanging, his trunk also sinking down limply. “I can't even imagine- Well...I hope they will at least find peace now, away from the madness.”
Curi paused for a long moment, staring at the Warrant Officer some more. Admittedly, the cyborg was a bit confounded at something. They knew for a fact the man had put his own life on the line for his orders, with a very real chance that they would lead to his death, more than just once. And yet the idea of being ordered to die seemed to disturb him. They couldn't quite figure out the difference that led to the results in reaction being so incredibly different, however it was still very clear that there was one.
And it seemed to hit the man hard.
Self-admittedly, Curi didn't exactly pity the man. They didn't quite have the capacity to. They knew about so many horrible things he had done that simply seeing him distressed was far from enough to stir such deep empathy for him within them.
Yet still, they weren't left entirely cold by it either – and if it was only because he seemed to be affected by these events in the ways a, for a lack of a better term, 'normal person' would be. He was shocked at the sudden, seemingly senseless violence, and concerned about the people involved.
Granted, it was likely only because they were people he considered worth being concerned about, yet still, the reaction was so...'normal', in a way they didn't quite expect from someone with such a capability for unceremonious acts of cruelty and violence. Even this person who had tried to kill them, or at least had been entirely comfortable with them getting killed, was capable of such a reaction.
And Curi...wasn't sure if that made things better or worse, if they were being honest.
It felt better because there was the capability for empathy there, however...it felt worse because they felt how they had been and likely still were willingly denied said empathy.
He could have cared...he just didn't want to.
Curi shook their body heavily, causing mild sounds from the engines running their legs' movements from the sudden force as they tried to shoo away emotions that they really didn't want to be feeling at that exact moment.
The thing that mostly kept them from following up on some of their uncomfortably aggressive thoughts at that moment was the fact that Mueen was still with them, the worry for his mother written across his features like a deep engraving in a metal plaque. He did not need anything like that around him right now, that much was clear.
Slowly, they moved over to him and reached up one of their long legs to run it along his arm while he still covered parts of his large face with both hands.
“She will be alright,” Curi then assured the dark-furred rafulite, switching from their usual voice box to their more “melodic” one to put on a gentle, calming tone. “She is stronger than she seems.”
Inhaling deeply as his nostrils flared, Mueen closed his dark eyes and swallowed heavily, taking his gaze off the large screen for the first time in many minutes while slowly hanging his head down.
“Yeah,” he said, seeming to force hopefulness into his tone. “Yes, she'll be fine. She made it his far. This won't get to her.”
Curi nodded with their entire body and continued to run the tip of their leg along his arm.
“She will be,” they repeated, both to the man and themselves as their own eyes moved upwards, their gaze falling back on the battlefield riddled with burning remnants of matter. “I'm sure of it.”
–
Never in his life had James felt so drunk and so sober at the same time. His mind was entirely clear, running a light-year a minute as it desperately tried to simultaneously process all the admittedly little information that he had in his current situation AND to not absolutely freak out while doing so somehow – a task he was ludicrously failing at. And it did NOT help that his body could barely keep itself on his own two feet.
He had avoided completely fainting by a hair earlier after reminding himself that, instead of being terrified for Shida's life, it would be much more fair towards her to simply focus on trusting in her skills to carry her through. However, that was barely a little patch on an enormous crack in his facade as he couldn't help but go over and over and over the fact of how much worse the situation that she needed to jump into here had been for her simply because it was his damn birthday and they wanted to indulge over it. He should've stopped that, but noooo, he just had to go and let himself be swayed so damn easily, as if he was still that little boy following Koko around whenever she visited the compound to try and get some attention.
Of course, a quiet voice in the back of his head tried to politely remind him that Shida had, in fact, not only taken part in the festivities as well but also encouraged him to do so, however it was easily overpowered by the screaming rest of his mind.
He briefly glanced over at the only somewhat conscious Commander. When she said that they should match each other's drinks, that should've been the moment he stopped. She was like half his weight, what the hell was he thinking?
His mechanical hand shot up, heavily gripping a fist full of hair as he tried to force himself to focus. What's done is done. There's no changing it. He should focus on anything else right now.
Though as he painfully pulled on his hair like that, his eyes suddenly went wide as he noticed something. Or, more precisely, didn't notice something.
When had the alarm stopped? Just now? Or had it been out and he just hadn't noticed?
Letting go of his hair, he lifted his face and looked around. If the alarm was over, then that meant...
The uncoordinated movement of soldiers reaching for their phones and radios with different speeds went through the room, and after brief confirmation, the uniformed forces began to move, having seemingly gotten new orders other than guarding the safe-rooms. Apparently, the threat was over.
James quickly fumbled for his own phone, his barely coordinated hands struggling extremely with the simple task of trying to call one of his contacts – much to the frustration of his already cleared mind. His finger trembled as he swiped it across the screen, trying to get it to the right damn place to make a simple god-damn call.
However, he froze in the motion at a quiet sound that was immediately followed by a sudden stir behind him as multiple people seemed to move quickly. And after just a second, James was among them as well.
Nearly tripping over his feet, he damn near threw himself onto the sickbed that didn't stand too far away from him, his phone momentarily forgotten and eyes wide open as they stared over at an endlessly familiar dark face, that however had life in it for the first time in what felt like an eternity at that moment.
Slowly and twitchy, Nia's eyes fluttered open as she let out quiet groans while mildly stirring in place while her doctors and nurses hurried around her and quickly began to take her vitals.
After flinching heavily as a flashlight was quite suddenly shone into her eyes to test her photopupillary reflex, she began to move even more. Meanwhile, James and Tuya were basically pressed shoulder to shoulder close to the foot of her bed, the only thing keeping them from dashing right up to her face being just enough awareness to not get in the doctor's way.
Still, although her movements were very slow, stiff, and groggy, Nia eventually lifted up her head, looking around with still somewhat hazy and half-closed eyes. But that didn't stop her from smiling when her gaze fell onto the two who so nervously stood at her bedside there.
“Hey,” she said in a quiet, croaky, but still very much cheerful voice as her unkempt hair fell down both sides of her face.
Though James didn't see much more than that, because just about at that moment, his vision was entirely taking away by welling-up waters sweeping him along.

The Quran claims that Muhammad is illiterate:

Those who follow the Messenger, the illiterate (ummi) prophet... S. 7:157

Definition of 'Illiterate':-

a person who is unable to read or write.

Therefore, if we find sufficient evidence from the Quran and the ahadith which demonstrate that Muhammad was literate, it would necessitate a reevaluation of the Quranic assertion of his illiteracy.
The prevailing belief among many Muslims is that the historical figure of Muhammad was illiterate and therefore incapable of producing the Quran. However, it is important to note that both the Quran and the ahadith provide evidence that Muhammad possessed the ability to read and write!

Evidence from the Quran

The following verses commanded Muhammad to read:

Read! (Iqra) In the Name of your Lord, Who has created (all that exists) … Read! (Iqra) And your Lord is the Most Generous, Who has taught (the writing) by the pen [the first person to write was Prophet Idrees (Enoch)], S. 96:1, 3-4

The mention of the pen clearly indicates that Muhammad was being directed to read a written text, rather than merely recite spoken words.
In fact, the Quran says that Allah will make Muhammad read the Quran so that he won’t forget it:

We shall make thee read (O Muhammad) so that thou shalt not forget S. 87:6

Other places where Muhammad is commanded to read the Quran include:

When you read the Quran, you shall seek refuge in GOD from Satan the rejected. S. 16:98
When you read the Quran, we place between you and those who do not believe in the Hereafter an invisible barrier. S. 17:45
A Quran that we have released slowly, in order for you to read it to the people over a long period, although we sent it down all at once. S. 17:106 And lo! It is a revelation of the Lord of the Worlds, Which the True Spirit hath brought down Upon thy heart, that thou mayst be (one) of the warners, In plain Arabic speech. And lo! it is in the Scriptures of the men of old. Is it not a token for them that the doctors of the Children of Israel know it? And if We had revealed it unto one of any other nation than the Arabs, And he had read it unto them, they would not have believed in it. S. 26:192-199
Your Lord knows that you meditate during two-thirds of the night, or half of it, or one-third of it, and so do some of those who believed with you. GOD has designed the night and the day, and He knows that you cannot always do this. He has pardoned you. Instead, you shall read what you can of the Quran. He knows that some of you may be ill, others may be traveling in pursuit of GOD's provisions, and others may be striving in the cause of GOD. You shall read what you can of it, and observe the contact prayers (Salat), give the obligatory charity (Zakat), and lend GOD a loan of righteousness. Whatever good you send ahead on behalf of your souls, you will find it at GOD far better and generously rewarded. And implore GOD for forgiveness. GOD is Forgiver, Most Merciful. 73:20
and, when the Koran is read to them, do not adore? S. 84:21

The evidence strongly suggests that Muhammad had access to a manuscript from which he could read to the people. Without access to such a manuscript, it raises the question of what he would have been reading from.
If a Muslim claims that the above texts do not necessarily mean that Muhammad was reading an actual book, because there was no Quranic manuscript for him to read, note what the following passage states:

Those who disbelieve say: "This (the Qur'an) is nothing but a lie that he (Muhammad SAW) has invented, and others have helped him at it, so that they have produced an unjust wrong (thing) and a lie." And they say: "Tales of the ancients, which he has written down, and they are dictated to him morning and afternoon." S. 25:4-5

Not only did Muhammad have the Quran written down, showing that he had access to an actual manuscript that he could read, the Quran even refers to pure pages that Muhammad was reading to the people:

A messenger from Allah, reading purified pages (yatlu suhufan mutahharatan) S. 98:1-2

The term suhuf refers to an actual scripture just as the following verse proves:

The Books (suhuf) of Abraham and Moses. S. 87:19

Therefore, we can now conclude that the Quran provides compelling evidence supporting the claim that Muhammad possessed the ability to read and write. A more in-depth examination of the ahadith is now necessary to further substantiate this assertion.

Evidence from the Ahadith

Narrated Anas bin Malik: Once the Prophet wrote a letter or had an idea of writing a letter. The Prophet was told that they (rulers) would not read letters unless they were sealed. So the Prophet got a silver ring made with "Muhammad Allah's Apostle" engraved on it. As if I were just observing its white glitter in the hand of the Prophet… (Sahih al-Bukhari, Volume 1, Book 3, Number 65)
Narrated Anas bin Malik: When the Prophet (ﷺ) intended to write to the Byzantines, it was said to him, "Those people do not read your letter unless it is stamped." So the Prophet (ﷺ) took a silver ring and got 'Muhammad, the Apostle of Allah' engraved on it .... as if I am now looking at its glitter in his hand. (Sahih Al Bukhari, Volume 7, Book 72, Number 764)
Narrated Anas bin Malik: When the Prophet (ﷺ) intended to write to the Byzantines, the people said, "They do not read a letter unless it is sealed (stamped)." Therefore the Prophet (ﷺ) took a silver ring----as if I am looking at its glitter now----and its engraving was: 'Muhammad, Apostle of Allah'. (Sahih Al Bukhari, Volume 9, Book 89, Number 276)
Narrated 'Ursa: The Prophet wrote the (marriage contract) with 'Aisha while she was six years old and consummated his marriage with her while she was nine years old and she remained with him for nine years (i.e. till his death). (Sahih al-Bukhari, Volume 7, Book 62, Number 88)
Narrated 'Ubaidullah bin 'Abdullah: Ibn 'Abbas said, "When the ailment of the Prophet became worse, he said, 'Bring for me (writing) paper and I will write for you a statement after which you will not go astray.' But 'Umar said, 'The Prophet is seriously ill, and we have got Allah's Book with us and that is sufficient for us.' But the companions of the Prophet differed about this and there was a hue and cry. On that the Prophet said to them, 'Go away (and leave me alone). It is not right that you should quarrel in front of me." Ibn 'Abbas came out saying, ""It was most unfortunate (a great disaster) that Allah's Apostle was prevented from writing that statement for them because of their disagreement and noise. (Sahih al-Bukhari, Volume 1, Book 3, Number 114)
Narrated Ibn `Abbas: When the time of the death of the Prophet (ﷺ) approached while there were some men in the house, and among them was Umar bin Al-Khatttab, the Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Come near let me write for you a writing after which you will never go astray."Umar said, "The Prophet (ﷺ) is seriously ill, and you have the Qur'an, so Allah's Book is sufficient for us." The people in the house differed and disputed. Some of them said, "Come near so that Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) may write for you a writing after which you will not go astray," while some of them said what Umar said. When they made much noise and differed greatly before the Prophet, he said to them, "Go away and leave me." IbnAbbas used to say, "It was a great disaster that their difference and noise prevented Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) from writing that writing for them. (Sahih Al Bukhari, Volume 9, Book 92, Number 468)
Narrated Yazid ibn Abdullah: We were at Mirbad. A man with dishevelled hair and holding a piece of red skin in his hand came. We said: You appear to be a bedouin. He said: Yes. We said: Give us this piece of skin in your hand. He then gave it to us and we read it. It contained the text: "From Muhammad, Messenger of Allah (ﷺ), to Banu Zuhayr ibn Uqaysh. If you bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah, offer prayer, pay zakat, pay the fifth from the booty, and the portion of the Prophet (ﷺ) and his special portion (safi), you will be under by the protection of Allah and His Apostle." We then asked: Who wrote this document for you? He replied: The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ). (Sunan Abi Dawud Book 19, Number 2993)
Narrated Al-Bara' bin 'Azib (RA):The Prophet (ﷺ) sent 'Ali to Yemen. The narrator mentioned the complete Hadith. He said, "Ali sent a letter regarding their (the people of Yemen) acceptance of Islam. When Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) read the letter, he prostrated in gratitude to Allah the Most High for that." [Reported by al-Baihaqi].

Muhammad also had access to Syriac books. He also commanded Zaid Bin Thabit to learn the Syriac Language and the book of the Jews:

Ibn Hajar said in Al-Fath: It can be made that he learned their language, reading and writing, because he used to read their books to him and write to them if he wanted to write to them. This is indicated by Al-Tirmidhi’s classification of this hadith by saying: Chapter on what was mentioned in teaching the Syriacs, and in it he mentioned another narration that says In it Zaid: The Messenger of God, may God’s prayers and peace be upon him, commanded me to learn Syriac, and in Sunan Abu Dawud: Zaid bin Thabit - may God be pleased with him - said: The Messenger of God, may God’s prayers and peace be upon him and his family, commanded me to learn the book of the Jews for him, and he said: By God, no Jews believed in my book. So I learned it, and only half a month passed before I mastered it. I would write to him when he wrote, and I would read to him when he wrote to him.
The author of Awn al-Ma’boud said: The Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace, commanded me, that is, to learn the book of the Jews, so I learned for him, that is, for the Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace. He said, meaning, the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, is a conjunction of my command to explain the reason for the matter. The Jews did not believe in my book, that is, I fear if I commanded a Jew. By writing a book to the Jews, or reading a book that the Jews had come to add or subtract from, so I learned it, i.e., a Jewish book, until I mastered it with the dictionary dhāl and waqf, meaning I knew it, mastered it, and taught it, so I used to write for him, i.e., for the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, whenever he wrote, i.e., if he wanted to write.

Al-Tahawi said in Al-Mu’tasir:

It was narrated from Zaid Bin Thabbit, that he said:
The Messenger (PBUH) said: “Do you know Syriac well? I receive Syriac books.” Zaid said: “No.” The Messenger (PBUH) said: “Learn it (Syriac Language).” Zaid said: “So I learned it in seventeen days.”
https://islamweb.net/afatwa/161555/

The evidence from additional hadiths (links given below) attributed to Muhammad strongly indicates his ability to write.
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:2699
https://sunnah.com/mishkat:4049
https://sunnah.com/muslim:1637b
https://sunnah.com/muslim:1637c
https://sunnah.com/nasai:3101
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:3053
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:4431
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:7366
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5669
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:114
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:4432
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2387
https://sunnah.com/abudawud:4505
https://sunnah.com/abudawud:3649
https://sunnah.com/tirmidhi:2667
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:6880
https://sunnah.com/muslim:1355a
https://sunnah.com/abudawud:4214
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:2938
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5875
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:7162
https://sunnah.com/nasai:5201
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2092d
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2092e
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:65
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5872
https://sunnah.com/shamail:89
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2092c
https://sunnah.com/tirmidhi:2715
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:2377
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5158

Muhammad's Literacy in the Sirat(s)

Muhammad could read and write as we read in Sirat Ibn Ishaq, Kitab at-Tabaqat al-Kabir' by Abu 'Abdullah Muhammad ibn Sa'd, and Al Sira Al Nabawiyya by Ibn Kathir:
Sirat Ibn Ishaq
https://archive.org/details/TheLifeOfMohammedGuillaume
Page 106, about the cave of Hira revelation:

So I (Muhammad) read it, and he departed from me.

Page 649, about correspondence with Musaylima

Musaylima had written to the apostle: ‘From Musaylima the apostle of God to Muhammad the apostle of God. Peace upon you. I have been made partner with you in authority. To us belongs half the land and to Quraysh half, but Quraysh are a hostile people.’ Two messengers brought this letter. A shaykh of Ashja’ told me on the authority of Salama b. Nu’aym b. Mas’ud al-Ashja’I from his father Nu’aym: I heard the apostle saying to them when he read his letter ‘What do you say about it?’ They said that they said the same as Musaylima. He replied, ‘By God, were it not that heralds are not to be killed I would behead the pair of you !’ Then he wrote to Musaylima: ‘From Muhammad the apostle of God to Musaylima the liar. Peace be upon him who follows the guidance. The earth is God’s. He lets whom He will of His creatures inherit it and the result is to the pious. This was at the end of the year 10.

Page 256

The apostle wrote to the Jews of Khaybar according to what a freedman of the family of Zayd b. Thabit told me from ‘Ikrima or from Sa‘id b. Jubayr from Ibn ‘Abbas: “In the name of God the compassionate the merciful from Muhammad the apostle of God friend and brother of Moses who confirms what Moses brought…”

• KITAB AT-TABAQAT AL-KABIR' by **Abu 'Abdullah Muhammad ibn Sa'd, one of the most important and earliest surviving collections of biographical details of the early Muslims, spanning just over the first two centuries of Islam** https://religion.antropo.es/libros/fuentes-islamicas/Ibn-Sad_Kitab-al-tabaqat-al-kabir.pdf

Volume 1, Parts II.73.2

He (Ibn Sa'd) said: Al-Haytham Ibn 'Adi al-Ta'i informed us; he said: Mujàlid Ibn Sa'id and Zakariyá Ibn Abi Zà'idah informed us on the authority of al-Sha'bi; he said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, used to write after the style of the Quraysh: In Thy name, 0 Allah! Then the verse, "Embark therein! In the name of Allah be its course and its mooring," (Qur'an, 11:41) was revealed, **and he began to write: In the name of Allah.**Then the verse, "Cry unto Allah or cry unto the Beneficent" (Qur'an, 17:110) was revealed, and he began to write; In the name of Allah the Beneficent. Then the verse, "Lo ! it is from Solomon, and Lo ! it is: In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful" (Qur'an, 27: 30) was revealed, and he began to write: In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.

Volume 1, Parts II.73.3

He (Ibn Sa'd) said: Al-Haytham Ibn 'Adi informed us; Dalham Ibn Salih and Abu Bakr al-Hudhali informed us on the authority of 'Abd Allah Ibn Buraydah, he on the authority of his father, Buraydah Ibn al-Husayb alAslami; (second chain) he (Ibn Sa'd) said: Muhammad Ibn Ishaq related to us on the authority of Yazid Ibn Rumàn and al-Zuhri; (third chain) he (Ibn Sa'd) said: Al-Hasan Ibn 'Umàrah related to us on the authority of Firas, he on the authority of al-Sha'bi; their narrations are mixed up: He (Ibn Sa'd) said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, wrote [P.20] an epistle to the people of Yaman detailing in it the regulations of Islam and duties on animals and properties. He directed them to treat his Companions and messengers well, and his messengers were Mu'adh Ibn Jabal and Malik Ibn Murarah. He informed them about the coming of their messengers to him and acknowledged the message which he had received from them. They said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him,wrote personal letters to several persons of Yaman; the names of some of them are, alHarith Ibn 'Abd Kulál, Shurayh Ibn 'Abd Kulal, Nu'aym Ibn 'Abd Kulál, Nu'man the prince of Dhu Yazan, Ma'àfir and Hamdan and Zur'ah of Ru'ayn; and the last was the first of Himyarites to embrace Islam... The Apostle of Alláh, may Allah bless him, wrote to them that Malik Ibn Murárah had delivered the message and defended their right in absentia. They said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, wrote to Musaylimah, the liar, may Allah damn him, inviting him to join the fold of Islam, and sent it through 'Amr Ibn Ummayyah [P. 26] al-Damri. Musaylimah wrote a reply to his epistle saying that he (Musaylimah) was a prophet like him, and asked him to divide the Earth; he also added that the Quraysh were not just. The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, said: Curse him; Allah has also cursed him. The Prophet wrote to him: your letter (full of) falsehood and fabrications against Allah has reached me... They said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, wrote a similar epistle to Bang Mu'awiyah, a branch of Kindah.

• Volume 1, Parts II.74.83

'Ath'ath Ibn Zahr and Anas lbn Mudrik waited on the Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, with the members of the Khath'am after Jarir Ibn 'Abd Allah had broken Dhua'l-Khalasah and had slain those of Khath'am whom he had slain. Then they said: We believe in Allah, His Apostle and what was revealed by Allah. (They said) write a document for us so that we may follow what might be written therein. Thereupon he wrote a document for him and Jarir Ibn 'Abd Allah and those present testified to it.

THERE ARE MORE EVIDENCES BUT I WILL NOT PROVIDE ALL
AL SIRA AL NABAWIYYA by Ibn Kathir (4 Volumes)
https://archive.org/details/AlSiraAlNabawiyyaByIbnKathirAllVolumesInOnePdf

• Volume I P33

when the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to Chosroe inviting him to accept Islam, he became enraged, tore up the letter and then wrote his own instructions

• Volume I P234

the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to the Jews of Khaybar as follows, “In the name of God the most merciful and beneficent, from Muhammad, the Messenger of God, …”

• Volume I P267

He wrote a document for us as follows: “In the name of God, the most Merciful and most Beneficent; this is from Muhammad, the Messenger of God, …”

• Volume I P273

Amr b. Murra and those others of his people who had accepted Islam then went to the Prophet (SAAS). He welcomed and honoured them and wrote for them a document, the text of which was as follows, 'In the name of God, the most Merciful, the most Beneficent, this document is from God through the tongue of the Messenger of God and is a trustworthy document…”

• Volume II P122

… the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to Mus'ab b. Umayr telling him to establish the Friday prayer

• Volume II P 212

… the Prophet (SAAS)__** wrote up a contract between the Emigrants saying that they would respect one another's strongholds, that they would treat with kindness those in distress and bring peace between the Muslims.**
The sahih collection of Muslim quotes Jabir as saying, "The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote an aqula, a blood-wit pact, for each sub-tribe." Muhammad b. Ishaq stated, "The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote a contract between the Emigrants and the Helpers…”

• Volume II P242

…the Messenger of God (SAAS) sent forth 'Abd All& b. Jahsh b. Ri'ab al-Asadi along with eight Emigrants; … He wrote a letter for 'Abd All& b. Jahsh…

• Volume IV P72

They asked them, “Uthman and Abd al-Rahman, your Prophet wrote us a letter and we have come in response to it…”

• Volume IV P73

When they went to him next day,** he wrote for them the following document, 'In the name of God, the most Merciful, the most Beneficent. This is written by Muhammad, the Prophet, the untutored, the Messenger of God, to Najran…”**

• Volume IV P75

The bishop, Abu al-Harith, went to the Messenger of God (SAAS), along with al-Sayyid, al-Aqib and important persons from their people…. He wrote the document for the bishop and those bishops to come after him: 'In the name of God, the most Merciful, the most Beneficent. From.Muhammad, the Prophet,…”

• Volume IV P100

The Messenger of God (SAAS) then wrote a letter to this Mutarrif…

• Volume IV P101

The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote them the following document…

• Volume IV P103

“The following is the letter we have that the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote for 'Amr b. Hazam…”

• Volume IV P113

”He then wrote a document appointing me their leader … He then wrote me another document.”

• Volume IV P123

The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote a document to this effect, as follows, "In the name of God, the most Merciful and Beneficent. This records what Muhammad, Messenger of God, has given to Rabi, Mutrif and Anas…”

• Volume IV P134

The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote back to him as follows…

• Volume IV P135

He wrote him a document specifying his charge and his orders to him.

• Volume IV P318

…the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to him and he restored it to them.

• Volume IV P496

The Prophet (SAAS) **wrote a letter to those of Banu Jurash who accepted Islam,**ordering them to peform the prayer, pay the zakat, and to donate one-fifth of the booty they took.

THERE ARE MORE EVIDENCES BUT I WILL NOT PROVIDE ALL because I am too lazy.
The evidence presented in this post strongly supports the claim that Muhammad was literate and not illiterate, as claimed by the Quran and the Muslims! So, the answer to the question in the title is a BIG NO.

Alright well folks keep asking an update and I have been meaning to, things went smoothish for a bit, but then got more fucked up again and then fine and then fucked again just this morning so here I am. Using you all to make sense of it.
Edit: here's the original post, sorry
https://www.reddit.com/relationship_advice/comments/1clivwd/i_36m_surprised_wife_32f_by_coming_home_early/
For the days after we talked a lot, she was adamant she wanted nothing to do with him, has no feelings other than friendship and now that she was aware both (a) the possibility of him trying (it is true I or she still don't *know* his intentions) and (b) my reaction to her behavior (leaving out his presence later with her in text messages to me after carpooling/putting our kid to bed, trickle-truthing me on her view of his possible intentions), she said she "doesn't want anything to do with him. no, just no."
She offered up her phone if I wanted to see their conversations, she did the location sharing thing on her iPhone. Was pretty clear that this was all some bullshit and she hates that this situation ever became a thing. She was losing a friend but was more than willing to.
We set some boundaries.

1. People over late at the house, just let the other person know. Obviously family doesn't count. Just to avoid any possibility of any inference, better to let each other know who is in our house that late, 1 on 1.
2. For people who may we feel even have hints of intentions beyond platonic, we should overshare with each other. (thanks helpful commenter) Not overanalyze every relationship but just things like "Doc X said this today, kinda weird" or "new guy at foraging seemed to like me a lot". Stuff like that.

I don't want to be a controlling person, I'm not that person but maybe because of my history I require more openness and communication about things like that in a relationship. She told me I was being too worried about her feelings/me being controlling and that was more than willing to do anything it took to rebuild any trust that was broken from the situation.
2nd session of marriage counseling and obviously topic came up first. I started to give a brief history but got interrupted by our child upstairs, I gave them some attention and came back down to continue. When I got to the part of coming home, taking a shower and confronting my wife, I can't remember who said what, but it was interrupted, talking happened and then the therapist said "and it sounds like (wife name) recognized what had happened and your past". Wife said she didn't know how close/similar some of the details were and the conversation moved on from there. The omission of his presence in text messages, trickletruthing, none of that was brought up.
But things were looking up, not sure I like the therapist but whatever. Things seem to be good. She seemed fairly contrite though I really was still bothered by the red and orange flags planted in my little mind garden.
Fast forward, a week? Something like that.
I fucked up. I guess I'm glad I did but I did fuck up. I don't sleep much, 5 hours max. Was up early, garden tending, made breakfast for little one and coffee for her, usual. I saw her work bag on the floor and I saw her journal in there. And I fucked up and I read it. I wanted to know if he (the 21M) was in her journal.
For some context, I read the journals of my late partner, who died over a decade ago, and it was a stupid horrible mistake. I read things that I shouldn't have, very raw thoughts and feelings, pros and cons list of me. Shit like that. Then, entries about the other man and her falling in love with him. And her thoughts about her conflicted thoughts about leaving me. Near the end, if I recall, she didn't know, she loved us both but we were so different. I kept the journals, still have them somewhere, but I did burn those last pages about him. I do recall telling myself that I was protecting future me. I'm glad I burned those pages and I'm glad I kept her journals but I don't venture to read them anymore. I will again when I'm older, to keep her alive in me somehow I guess.
Anyways, when I saw her journals in the bags I just grabbed them and I read the latest couple pages. Innocuous stuff until I got to about a month ago.
It said: "Texted all night and hike Monday"
Now that wasn't me she texted with or hiked with on that day, that was with him. When she forgot to get her prescription.
So that meant two things to me:

1. Who writes "texted all night" in their journal with someone they don't have feelings about? I'm not a journaler person, I don't like my thoughts enough to put them to paper, but that doesn't seem right to me. No name but def him, the dates match. I don't know, again, I don't journal so maybe anything can mean anything in there but what the fuck.
2. She had planned on hiking with him. She didn't tell me that. She told me of her plans going hiking after work to pass the time before the pharmacy opens, but never told me that he was going too.

In fairness, she told me after she sent pictures of the hike to me and his dog was in the photos. But she didn't mentioned they had planned it together, seemed spontaneous but I never asked I guess.
So yeah, I stopped reading. Kinda felt like I was shot with an arrow. Pretty horrible feeling because I thought things were going to be okay but I now I read this shit.
It was like 6am at this point, so I went on a run to clear my head and get the adrenaline out. Some tears too. Got home and they were still sleeping, when they woke up and we were alone I asked her again if she ever developed any feeling at all for him. She said no. I told her I read her journal. I apologized but I told her I read something and I needed an explanation.
She wasn't happy. She told me those are personal, her thoughts and not for other people. She was also confused as to what I could have possibly read about him/the situation that need explaining. She asked me to show her the entry, I did.
[context, they work overnights together]
Her response was: "Oh yeah, we texted a lot that night. He wasn't working but I was. You know I wasn't home right? I was working that night."
I asked why it was in her journal? And why were you were planning to hike with him but when you told me about your plans for that day, you never mentioned you were planning it with him?"
She said "Well I didn't know for sure he would come, we were talking bout it but I didn't know for sure" and the texted all night part "didn't mean anything", that journals are fragments, not full thoughts and she was just writing it
I didn't like that answers at all honestly. We had another long discussion where she reassured me it meant nothing, that it shouldn't be interpreted as anything about her having feelings for him. I believe her. I don't know how she journals so maybe this isn't far out of the norm, I don't know.
Have to be honest here, the trust I had in her, a lot of it left. Which is pretty much the basis of a relationship. A lot of people sent me messages after my post with spy cams and shit. If I had to resort to that, I'd just end the relationship I thought. Now here I am snooping on her journals.
Two days later, kid and I go out camping at a park for a couple nights (she's working). Have a blast. During that time away I decide it's important to me to know what conversations took place between them. Yes I snooped, but I think it's reasonable, at this point, to demand to know just what types of things are said between them. She offered earlier, I just never took her up on it because it was really obvious to me, she felt she had nothing to hide.
But after this journal entry thing, yeah I would like to know what 'texted all night' means. I thought if the conversation that night is just bullshit, sure whatever. If it's more, or that night is deleted or something, then I'll know. I honestly expected to read the messages, be reassured of her side of the story and move on.
So we got home yesterday from camping. This morning I asked her if I could read their conversations. Explained why and without hesitation she said yes and went to get her phone. Gave it to me and I sat to start reading.
They had been texting recently, mostly innocuous mushroom stuff, then a one/ a couple attempts by him to come ovego out foraging. I guess he was going to around our area (he lives an hour away) cruising on his motorcycle and her response to him was, as close as I can recall was:
"not today not allowed to have anyone at home. lol"
Alright what the fuck
She saw my face and asked what was wrong. I put the phone down and said I don't want to read anymore.
I asked if she had told him about my view on their relationship, or what happened or anything about him/heI. She said no. I asked again. She said no, he has no clue, she never mentioned anything.
I showed her the text and asked her why she would say that.
Why would she say "no one was allowed" at home? People are allowed in my home, that wasn't any of the boundaries we set together. He's been here, clearly. And why would she say that to him if she never mentioned anything like that to him?
Her response was that she meant she wasn't having people ovewas busy. She then told me "you were home that day...I don't get it". Yeah I didn't read the dates of the text but even so, why the fuck would you word it that way? That's not even close to "no, I'm busy today" or literally any other million ways to say I'm not available today. I'm not allowed to have people at home is entirely different. lol is entirely different.
I cannot see how on earth you get from those words to that meaning she says she was trying to convey. Maybe I'm wrong. She said she didn't mean it that way it's not her mother tongue. To be fair, English is not her first language. She's quite fluent and has learned it from childhood but it's not her primary language. We've spoken exclusively English together for the ~decade I've known her. You wouldn't know it wasn't her primary talking to her unless you had a good ear. But she's right, maybe it just is a mistranslation. She said it was "clumsy" and not meant in any way to convey anything more than "I'm not available today".
We talked all morning until she went to bed. She reassured me she loves me and only me. I walked through every red flag, every opportunity for her to be honest an open. I asked why she didn't tell me about his recent attempts to meet up again?
She said she didn't know she should have told me. She said she didn't know she had to replay every conversation with him to me. I said she didn't, that's not what I was asking. But I was asking for her to be extra open about her relationship with him to me and him asking to come over, twice, definitely would require her letting me know.
I told her she didn't respect me at all. I told her she didn't care enough to tell me. I told her she's not being open and honest with me. That it's not me and her against the world, that this relationship is something else.
She reassured me it meant nothing but now that she sees how that text could be read that way (as if they had discussed him not being allowed in our home, she still denies), that she understands why I would react that way. She was frustrated, she said "it feels like a little fly came into my life and shit all over everything", referring to him and his advances as the cause of what fucked this all up.
I reiterated to her, every step along the way, in which she could have been truthful to me and decide to omit information.
Texting all night and planning the hike.
Staying over late after carpooling together, after our kid went to sleep, texting me and not mentioning he was still over.
Trickle-truthing me on whether she thinks he's interested in her.
His two offers to meet via text/messenger or whatever (that I saw, didn't look more) that she didn't think to tell me about.
And her reply of "not today not allowed to have anyone at home. lol" whatever the fuck that means.
Her position is still the same, that this is all the bad coincidences and misunderstandings, misreading texts or journal entires, etc. But she says she loves me, has only eyes for me and better understands now where I'm coming from.
So.. there's my little hell I've got for myself.
Personal therapy starting soon but I guess reddit therapy will do for now. It's somehow therapeutic to remember this and type it all out. Sorry, looking back this is insanely long, it's too long to proofread if shits garbled. Took me all day to write I guess.
Last post I felt very overwhelmed by the response, sorry I didn't respond to a lot of comments or questions or clarifications. I'll try to do better here, since this is probably the final time I'll use reddit as therapy.
Thanks in advance. I guess I should ask in this field of flags is there some green grass? I trust my wife. I did. When she tells me she loves me and only me, I'm convinced. Or is this all as fucked as the plain reading makes it seem? Because it does seem quite fucked.

~First~
Cats, Cops and C4
The Erumenta woman tries to fight even as he forces her into the cell, her natural fire flaring hot enough for his clothing to smoulder and him to mentally congratulate himself for his Undaunted Brand. It’s literally saved his fingers multiple times today.
Marlintine Spire is like many of the spires of Centris still reeling from the massive scan. Sure it had been legal, and both Living Goddesses upon the world had told everyone to calm down in their own way. But just because something is legal and endorsed by powerful figures does not make it a popular move.
“You burn any of your fellow prisoners while you’re in there and you’re getting a suppression collar.” He tells the obstinate criminal as he shoves her into the holding cell and slams the bars shut. The forcefields supplementing the metal bars flickers into place and the blast of flame she aimed at his face splashes against it without further effect. “Cute, keep it up and we won’t need a court hearing to upgrade you to a real prison.”
“He’s being serious. Stripper boy is playing at being a serious police officer.” Another criminal mocks and is subsequently ignored as Chenk leaves the area. He has other things to do.
“Ma’am.” He greets Chief Bowman as he slips by to head back out.
“Hold it human. I know your kind are endurance monsters, but you need to sit the hell down. You’ve been dragging in cult soldiers for six and a half hours straight. Your legal overtime ended a half hour ago.”
“Then keep a cell open for me as I keep bringing in more people. This needs to be quelled.” Chenk says and as he turns to keep going she grabs his belt and pulls him back.
“You need to rest.”
“The Spire is in the middle of a borderline insurrection. I can rest when it’s...” He begins to say before a sudden movement to his right makes his head snap around. Just before Vera the Takra-Takra crashes into him.
“Thanks for stalling him out Chief! Come on you goofy human!” Vera announces as she drags him down the hallway and into Linda’s Office. She tosses him onto the couch and then pounces onto him and pins him.
“Really?” Chenk asks.
“Yes really. You need to calm down. And I found a way to force it.” Linda states.
“But the Spire is...”
“You are one officer. Supersoldier on loan to the station or not, you’re still only one officer. The structural integrity of this spire only depends upon you when there’s a bomb threat and even then, only when it’s a chemical bomb.” Linda tells him. “Or do we have to restrict you to only being called out during a bomb threat?”
“No.” He says. “But people are still getting hurt and...”
“And they're the ones hurting themselves. Just please calm down. I know you’re skilled, but your sense of justice is just going to hurt you at this rate. Don’t want to leave a bad example for Amy now do you?” Linda teases him and Chenk groans in frustration.
“... I really should have thought things through before growing attached to that girl.”
“Oh probably, but it was adorable to see. The world crashing down on a poor little girl in over her head and then Officer Hero, Supersoldier from the blackest void of the galaxy flies in to save her.” Vera teases.
“Still, him being a supersoildier is a bit of a problem right now. Big man needs a mission, or he’s going to go nuts!” Linda notes. “Luckily! I called one of your friends on the ship. Soldier, you’re in position to requre a talking to from The Observer. However, the call is on hold, but you need to be here when it goes off.”
“That’s a dirty trick.” Chenk notes even as an Undaunted communicator is tossed at him and he catches it. It’s activated, it’s in a waiting queue and there’s no way he can go into the field now if he’s waiting for an official answer. “Very dirty.”
“Good thinking!” Vera compliments as she cuddles closer to her pinned target. Her hair spikes out in sudden shock as The Communicator then goes off to signify the call has gone through. “I jinxed it!”
“Specialist Chenk Barnabas sir!” Chenk answers the call instantly as he sits up and Vera scurries off him.
“Really? I put him on that waiting list to get him to calm down and stop working.”
“Specialist Barnabas, I’m one of numerous individuals filtering the sheer number of incoming calls to The Inevitable. You’re in the proper queue now, please state what you have been doing as a member of The Undaunted so that Observer Wu can better decide who to speak with.”
“I’m on loan to one of Marlintine Spire’s major police stations. Due to the overpopulation of Centris this means I have been acting as elite law enforcement over a population that exceeds that of many of earth’s countries.”
“I see, anything in particular that you’re doing?”
“I’m a chemical expert and accredited detective at this rate. I am the go to specialist for law enforcement when it comes to chemical explosives for a full ten percent of Centris Police Departments.”
“Any particularly interesting cases you’ve been assigned to?”
“Yes, one that is still being debated in court by none other than The Trytite Lady. It involves cloning, murder, mercenaries, numerous criminal gangs and a great deal of more nonsense such as massive prison breaks, fighting robots and Axiom effects so dangerous that even speaking about them in anything more than the most broad and general of terms on an open frequency is a punishable offence.”
“So you have seen a fair amount of what has occurred in the galaxy.”
“I’ve seen enough that I’m going to be very hard to surprise or overwhelm any longer.” Chenk says.
“Very good. I’ll just note this down. The Galaxy is absolutely insane, I’ve been fielding calls from people with like nine heads all speaking in concert and god damn lobster people and more...”
“That’s reality for you.” Chenk replies. “Always more absurd than it should be.”
“Indeed, stand by. I’m putting you into the next proper queue. It shouldn’t be more than a minute or two long.” The Assistant states and then the call shifts to simply display that he’s fourth in the queue now.
“Hunh. Faster and somehow slower than expected at the same time.” Chenk says even as Vera leans against him.
“Even when you take a break you’re still working.”
“You didn’t complain about me being an endurance monster when I planted this in you.” He says gently patting her growing stomach and she pushes him a bit in protest.
“Problem with getting the super-babies of doom is the wait for the baby.” Vera complains and he chuckles before the communicator activates again. He puts it in broadcast mode as Linda leaves her desk to sit next to him for support.
“Observer Wu I take it?” Chenk asks the Asian man who nods.
“And you are Officer and Operative Barnabas. The little summary in front of your call has my attention. Tell me, how are laws generally handled in the Centris space.”
“Centris is a massively overpopulated planet consisting of Spires and Plates. The Spires are the massive multi tiered towers that have two hundred levels each and each level holds enough people to populate any major city on Earth with ease. The lower the level on the spire the less funding, infrastructure and support it has with the bottom ten generally considered a universal slum or no man’s land. Law enforcement in those areas is nigh on impossible and the air itself has been described as thick and fetid. No natural light reaches those areas either.”
“And higher up?”
“Increasing amounts of wealth and support. To such a degree that the plates, which form an artificial ring around Centris are of such high quality that their most squalid and desperate places are at roughly the same standard of living as the middle fifty floors of a well off Spire. As you can imagine, policing all this is an outright herculean effort and every station, no matter how well funded, armed or endorsed is simply inadequate for the task.”
“What sort of crimes have you witnessed?”
“I’ve stopped terrorist conspiracies, torn down drug labs, found myself between assassins and their targets, I’ve stood in the middle of gang wars commanding people to stand down, I have tackled muggers, murderers and maniacs alike into walls and cuffed them. Not even twenty minutes ago I dragged a criminal who could light fires with her will alone into a cell, my jacket is still singed from it.”
“So the world is rife with criminality.”
“No more than any other place, there’s just so many people crammed in here that it’s constant, and that’s without the recent provocation that every single criminal organization received more or less simultaneously. Generally for every single idiot that needs a police officer to remind them why good behaviour is a good idea, there’s an entire bus full of people that didn’t even consider breaking the law.” Chenk explains.
“But when they truly commit crimes they don’t stop do they?”
“No, more resources, technology and Axiom means that if someone wants to break the rules they can break the very concept of rules. The last major case I was in before this flashfire of criminality was kicked off involved the sanctity of body and mind being shattered for the sake of mere greed by a figure so underworld infamous that for a chance to get either evidence on the person in question or ingratiate themselves to them we had an all out war break out in the station. One that if not for a quick trick, we would have lost.”
“And the trick was?”
“Switching out the prize for a disguised tracking beacon.” Chenk says and Observer Wu nods appreciatively. “I can’t credit on that though, it was The Private Stream that did that.”
“I haven’t had that fully explained to me. What is THE Private Stream?”
“I’m not the best person to explain it, but a quick summary is that it’s a shared persona for low profile work. Operative Jameson is the founder and original Private Stream, a persona that lets him go around while heavily armed and armoured while arousing no suspicion.”
Vera snorts in amusement. “Arousing... lot of girls find the aw shucks innocent routine to be arousing.”
Chenk slowly urns to her. “What?”
“You know what.”
“Maybe I don’t!”
“Maybe you do.”
“Could we focus please?” Observer Wu asks. “Now, as an Officer, are there any laws that you would find concerning about humans?”
“Yes, they’re usually location dependant thankfully. So the issue can be avoided. Furthermore there’s a lot of leeway given in laws where the traits of a species would make following the law difficult if not impossible. For example a human can generally get away carrying substances that are considered highly toxic or dangerous due to the fact that our diets contain what many people in the galaxy are nothing more than hard core poisons.”
“Hmm... Could you be more specific?”
“Well, this one won’t apply to you due to an amendment that Admiral Cistern was able to get allies to help him push through, but one of the most popular religions the galaxy over is the Gravid Faith, it has numerous denominations and variants and several of them create what’s called Arrangement Systems where men are required by law to have a hundred wives.”
“And the amendment is?”
“That if you are gainfully employed by governmental or military forces that you are exempt from the law so long as you remained employed in such a manner. You Observer Wu are the eyes of hundreds of Earth Nations meaning a government employee.” Chenk explains and he nods.
“I see. Any other exemptions?”
“Generally the Galaxy looks down on kinetic weaponry, so when it was pushed that humans wear weapons and cultural garb it was allowed through without issue. So humans are legally allowed to carry weapons like knives and pistols at almost all time without question. It’s... rather stupid in my opinion, but well it would be even more foolish for me to complain about something I’m outright benefiting from.”
“Hmm... any other laws?”
“They very much vary by location. Which are further influenced by the species of the residents, local culture, religion, political association, economic status. The name of the game is jurisdiction issues here on Centris. The local police departments all help one another, but always at the invite of the local officers who can actually confirm if what’s taking place is a crime or not in the local area.”
“Can you give an example of this working against things?”
“Alright, the easiest example is with drugs. There is no agreed on way to combat the spread of illegal narcotics. Some make the growing of the plants that produce what you want illegal. Others make the refinement of it’s fruit illegal and some make the selling of the drug illegal. So you can produce it all on the third Spire and sell it on the first two legally. You can grow the plant on the second and third spire legally, refine it on the first and third legally and that way you have a massive multi-jurisdiction drug running operation without technically breaking any law.”
“Hmm... that is a great deal to consider. I presume other such crimes can operate the same way?”
“Unfortunately yes. But that’s the problem with laws, you need to set where the boundaries are, but not make people prisoners in their own homes. There’s always a loophole.”
“Tragically yes.” Observer Wu remarks. “Now, I do need to speak to the others, but I have a few moments more. Who and what are you sitting near. The vaguely catlike woman on your right and the... generally human looking woman on your left are?”
“Linda is to my left. Partner and wife, the first actual police officer of us three. Vera is to my right. Wandering Warrior and wife. Linda is a Tret woman, they’re best considered to be humans if we evolved with Axiom helping us, a sister species to our own people. Vera is a Takra-Takra, she and her kind can shapeshift into the ferocious Warform and use it in battle. They pride their skill as Warriors and seek out stronger mates to empower the next generation.” Chenk explains before tiltiing the view down a little to show the pregnant stomach on Vera. “A work in progress.”
“I see. Congratulations. Although compared to many other Undaunted you seem a little behind.”
“I wasn’t aware it was a race.”
“Which is exactly how you lose the race!” Vera says in an amused tone.
“Indeed. Every conversation leads me to believe that I need to take an entire university degree in order to understand things. Thankfully your own is rather straight forward.”
“Really? Who are you speaking with next?”
“I haven't decided yet, but I need to speak with everyone in some way.” Observer Wu states.
“Good luck sir, I think you’ll need it.” Chenk says.
“Excuse me, is there a way to get a human to calm down and take a break? Ever since Centris was Scanned and hidden societies were exposed all over Chenk has refused to stop working. Is there any way to just get him to take a break?” Linda asks.
“It generally varies from person to person. But I would suggest guilting him. Emotional blackmail is a powerful tool.” Observer Wu says with a slight smirk.
“Traitor!” Chenk declares and there’s a chuckle from The Observer.
“Indeed. I’m afraid this call needs to finish now. Best of luck.” Observer Wu says before the call ends.
“So... we need to guilt you then? Okay!” Vera exclaims before her eyes start to water. “Don’t you wanna be there for the baby? Doesn’t she deserve a daddy?”
“Oh my god woman!”
~First~ Last

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

I created this account, to vent some of my frustration. I won't be commenting, looking, or editing it after I post. No, I'm not a bot, but sometimes I wish I was.
One of my best friend tried to kill himself, he left a farewell message which wasn't supposed to be interpretted as that, but I understood. I called every hospital in the area looking for his name, until I found one. When I went to visit him, I wasn't sure if I'd be finding him dead or alive. I worked up the courage to walk into the room, and found that he was surprised to see me. With so much frustration and anger in my mind, I just started yelling at him, wondering what the fuck he was thinking and why he didn't just call me. He couldn't answer, but a tear rolled down his cheek and my anger subsided and turned into grief, depression, then sorry. I asked him, why and he said told me I knew why. He struggled with major depression for years, like me. I tried my best to be a friend and help him out of that hole, but nothing I did would help. I thought maybe if I put my depression to the side and helped him with his I'd find a way of curing my own. I was never overt with any of the actions, I lent out a helping hand when neeeded and hung out with him when he was down. We've both had terrible traumas— his from neglect and financial issues, and mine from abuse and bullying, but I thought because we both suffered we would be able suffer together. I visitied him when his family was there as I was the nuclear detterent. I watched his mother and brother hurl insults at eachother while I tried to lighten the mood, the brother cared for him, the mother didn't. It seemed like she was there, just to say she showed up. I've known her for a while, she's callous, she always has a couple boyfriends on her side, but she never tries to keep them around. When the brother and the mother were around the entire room was filled with a negative aura and you can feel it, it was never pleasant and when I left tensions only raised. I visited him when work allowed me to, but after he was transferred to the psych ward, my schedule didn't fit in with any of the visitation hours so I never could. When he left the psych ward, what followed were days of him visiting my workplace during my lunch hours telling me that he would attempt it again, "it could happen any day now." My words seemed so hollow and breathless as I tried to sounding them out. I questioned myself, "What could I say? What could I do? Why is he telling me this?" This happened almost everyday for a couple of months, he would visit me and utter the same words. One day, I asked him, "How do you want me to respond to this" and to his non-challant reply was, "I don't know take it as you well." He was always forgetful, so I hoped he would forget about me too. Some nights we would get boba and he would tell me I was part of the reason he did it. I didn't know how to respond and I still don't. What did I do? I was completely and utterly drained of any emotions, sadness, depression, anger, grief. He was a boa constrictor wrapping it's body around mine smothering me to death. Nothing mattered to me, and so one day, I left without saying a word. He is still alive and hasn't tried anything since then, to which I am thankful. But I never answered his texts or calls. In this rough patch, I started unravelling because everything around me was unfolding.
I was still talking to the above friend, during this time when I got a call from my brother, "She's in the ER because she OD'D. Can you bring some blankets?" He was completely devoid of any urgency or emotion, I understand he doesn't handle them very well, but the calmness of voice only irritated me and made my bite my tongue til I bled. My mind was blank as I sped down the highway at 100mph. I remember the flickering lights as I paced through the hallway, a nurse recognized me from my personal life, but I brushed her off saying that I didn't know her as she was part of our church. Our family is conservative and if this got out, then all eyes would be on us with looks of disappointment and shame. I couldn't tell anyone. I hesitated, a roller coaster of emotions overwhelmed me as I grew closer and closer to the room. The same ones that had enveloped me with my best friend, but this one was brought on by so much shame. "How didn't I see this coming? What sort of brother am I, that I can't protect my only sister? Please... Please... Please.. don't be dead." I stopped in the hallway, where my brother stood and he just said he was getting a sandwhich. I watched him go as he walked away, not an ounce of grief, but after I saw him I noticed there was confusion and sadness in his face, but his words remained neutral as if he were trying to keep it together. I approached the door and hesitated right before going in, rubbing tears that were running down my face and collecting myself the best way I could. I saw her lying there, so helpless, barely alive, and struggling to breathe. My stomach sunk, my heart dropped, and my lungs collapsed. No physical pain, no abuse I had suffered, no moment would have prepared me for this, but as I looked at her she looked at me. I walked over and remarked, "This is because I didn't kill the spider, isn't it?" She laughed in pain the best she could, and my Dad added into and gave me a small slap on the head laughng as well. I saw her arms and saw the cuts and how deep they were. The heart monitor started fading and transforming into ringing within my ears. I sat down and talked to my Mom and Dad to see what we needed. They asked for blankets, which I forgot, and something to eat. I told them to go home as I'd just stay here to watch over her. They both said no at first, but my Dad reluctantly agreed after realizing there was no one to watch his business the next day. I nearly lost my mind. Your daughter is laying here in the ER, and you still need someone to watch the business? I volunteered to do it, but I stayed in the hospital until the I had to leave as I watch the seconds turn into minutes, the minutes to hours. The clock has never moved that slow before, I felt like I was frozen in every moment. It was only after I had learned she was raped three times. My blood boiled, my face turned hot, as I was heading to my car demanding who did it. He'd done this mutliple times. throughout the year, and I had no idea. I reached a point where I stormed out of my house, but my brother asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going to find him, and beat the living shit out of them. He stopped me and told me, that that's why she didn't tell me. I didn't understand it it all, why he wasn't hopping into the car with me to this mother fuckers house after knowing all of this. He didn't want me to know because I'd go over to the hospital demanding her and asking her who did it. He was right. I calmed down, but if he wasn't there I would have found the fucker and I would have beaten the living shit out of them. I told my best friend what happened, and he tried to keep me calm and tried to get my mind off of things. We went to a friends birthday party and I could still hear the heart monitor ringing as I watched everyone have fun, eat, and party over this friends birthday. I felt like an extra, just playing the part of someone who's there to be there. I laughed and made jokes, but this hole in my chest kept getting wider and wouldn't close. I hadn't slept in three days, and the pain was like I was being eaten alive without being able to scream in agony. When we returned to the hospital, she was moved to a different facility, because she wasn't needed in the ER any longer. The nurses asked me to leave as they said that visiting hours were over, but they fell upon empty ears. I wasn't moving. I stayed there all night, and woke up the next morning. I don't remember falling asleep, I just blacked out at one point. I could tell you that when I woke up, all I saw where white walls, white floors, and white sheets. The typical hospital smell that filled the air with ammonia as it burned through my lungs. The heart monitor started to lose it's preptual ring and began to sound normal again. None of these details are important, but I remember them so well as if I'm living that moment right now. This was my second close call. She was home within the next week, but this trauma made our family a lot closer— but, there's a new edition to the family in the shape of an elephant, he doesn't speak to us and we don't speak to him, but he's always there. I haven't been able to look at her the same way, because I'm not sure what will set her off, and the scars on her arms still make me sick to the stomach.
My second best friend was tearing at the seams while all this was happening and I was trying to get his life back together, but something just wasn't clicking with him. I saw him descend into an abyss that I couldn't pull him out of, he started stalking his ex, binge drinking at work, in public, etc. , doing more and more drugs. I went to his rented out room where the landlord would help him do his laundry, cook for him, allow him to have pets even though she was against it. She was kind to him, and I had hoped that might have had some affect on his mental state, but he couldn't get out of his head. He nose dived and I tried to bring him back up, but I couldn't so I gave up. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from everything, in a puddle of a quicksand trying to get out, the more I resisted the further it pulled me down. I was in a boxing match with hit after hit after hit, I just couldn't stand it anymore, but this man gave me a family when mine abused me, he gave me a home when I didn't want to go back to mine, he allowed me to express myself and be free when I was in a position where everyone wanted to chain me, he became a friend when I needed one the most. I pleaded with my group to look after him a little bit more, we could take shifts, but no one cared or wanted to listen. "You can't help someone who can't help themselves." After his nose dive, I told him I couldn't do this anymore and I'd rather kill myself to watch him destroy himself, so I stopped speaking to him— after all, you can't help someone who can't help himself. I removed myself from the group and started working on myself. It had been a year since we last talked, he wrote one story on Instagram that caught my attention, "Maybe everyone was right about me." By this time, I had finally collected myself, I was in a good place, and I had every intention of talking with him again and helping him get back on track if I could, whether it be reaching out or just treating him like a person as if it were a typical Tuesday. As I was typing in the words, I stopped myself and said I needed a little bit more time. I was in the midst of a massive project at work that needed to be completed in two days. The next day, I got a text from one of the mutal friends in the group I had left, "He's dead. They found his body in his room." I stared at the phone for a few seconds. My mind blank. I just put my phone down and kept working.
I haven't talked to a therapist about any of this, but I have mentioned it. None of them seem interested in exploring it so it must not be that important, but I feel the need to get this burden off my chest. These three events happened concurrently, and after the dusk settled, I looked closer into all of the close relationships I had, and how many of my closest friends had ended up hurting themselves in a way to "heal." Nearly all of them. They would vent their struggles to me, and I always became an ear because people just need to be heard. Maybe they had problems before I met them, maybe they didn't. I'm probably stretching my own importance in their lives, but the nagging tick that bothers me is that I feel like I am the common denominator.

chapters 1&2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
The lecture was supposed to be on Rationality 101, apparently not for Newcomers only. Serene was there to have her back but G was having a hard time focusing.
The boring black uniform more fitting for a hotel receptionist defaced the godlike beauty standing in front of a huge screen. Gentry couldn’t believe her eyes: this was the man she had her hands on a little while ago?
No, it couldn’t be.
It had been just an avatar, too perfect in its unblemished visage, too pure for this world. Yet the man whose face she remembered as if it was etched on the back of her eyelids, who she’d been constantly thinking about, who her hands itched to snatch, was standing right there, in the flesh.
Back in the dreamy simulated world she caught herself thinking that a trim waist like this couldn’t anatomically work on a human, yet here he was: a towering spread of fit shoulders perfectly balanced above the flexible whip of his midsection. The light-grey eyes that betrayed every movement of his pupils were as real as the ones that reflected the mock moon during her test. Below them lay the sharp slope of the cheekbones one could cut themselves on.
The only thing a bit different, apart from the outfit choice, was the young god’s hair. In the simulation, it was flowing and probably too long to be practical. This person’s mane was much shorter and fell down his neck in a neat ponytail, tastefully tamed with a single hairpin.
She had to get her hands on this treasure.
He was making last minute preparations for the lecture, looking through the papers on the desk, dark strands framing his face, light grey eyes sharp in careful concentration.
Professor Q, huh.
He said this was his name, and so did the note on the lecture hall door.
She was sure it was the man who had melted in her arms making the most delicious sounds a male throat could produce.
Had he recognised her?
Unlikely.
At the time of the simulation session, she didn’t have a camera that could pick up her facial features but just to be on the safe side, she decided to go by “G” in his class. There were bound to be lots of people with a name starting with a G, right? What would be the odds it was this particular newcomer that Q had tested that would end up in his class?
The man finally lifted his eyes at the audience and a gentle smile momentarily graced his features before disappearing as if he didn’t see someone he’d expected to.
The holoboard on the wall behind him obediently lit up following his nonchalant gesture. Gentry found it annoying that one needed a pair of special glasses to see all the augmented reality stuff and really navigate the city but again, with Sereen’s help she had more or less gotten used to it in the couple of days she had to deal with the necessities like settling down, getting food and finding her way around Ashtapada.
Still, could they use a piece of chalk or, at least, a marker to write on the board? No need to show off your Fully Automated Luxury Space Communism tech just to write a couple of notes on the board!
On second thought, high-tech-crazy or not, if this city brought up men like this one, she would definitely do her best to stay here to… reap the benefits!
They took a desk next to a huge clear floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the winter garden.
“Professor Q seems a little distracted today,” Sereen said, swiftly tapping a couple of buttons on G’s wrist to show her how to confirm that she was attending the lecture. “He’s usually much more chatty and friendly. I wonder what got into him.”
“Is he?” Gentry responded with an artificial air of indifference. “I just hope he’s more open to a discussion than that Poe guy.”
“He is! And Professor Poe isn’t that bad,” Sereen reprimanded before chuckling a little — since his little secret became known to students, he became known as Holopoe. “Just wait and see, it’s gonna be a blast. Q’s lectures are always very engaging.”
It proved to be utter bullshit.
After fiddling with the symbols on the interactive screen for ten minutes into the class, students getting more and more agitated behind his back, the lecturer seemed to give up. Turning back to the audience, he absentmindedly nodded to a couple of people in the lecture hall and sighed with a painfully fake smile.
“For today’s class, we are going to need to read a certain extract from a book,” he said, tone apologetic for some reason, but it solidified G’s conviction that she already knew this person. “I’ve just sent it to each of your wristcomms. We’ll have some quiet time and read it by ourselves, alright?”
“Reading from the comm?” Sereen mumbled to herself. “Couldn’t he just print them out?”
The rest of the students’ grumbles showed that they shared her disappointment. Q could only hopelessly smile again before returning to his work on the board.
Reading from the little semi-transparent screens was indeed torture. Quickly giving up on trying to awkwardly use gestures for scrolling through the text, she looked out of the window to entertain herself with the garden outside. From the modest height they were sitting at, the people below were quite discernible, partly hidden by the greenery, spread here and there in small groups and pairs. Gentry longed to be there, too. What was the use of being here with the most attractive person in the whole world if the only thing she could see was his back?
Well, the back didn’t look half bad, if she was honest, and what was below also pleased the eye.
But still. It would soon bore even the most easily entertained.
Her gaze fell to a small clearing where a lone male figure was sitting, writing something in a notebook. By the looks of it, the notebook was a real paper-made thing without the bells and whistles usual for Ashtapada. The next thing G noticed was a pair of slender legs, barefoot, stretched to dip the toes into the clear water of the artificial stream.
God bless the urban designers of this place!
The figure lifted the head and in an inconceivably graceful motion, swung the long blond bangs away from the face.
G straightened her back. Was it... Ok, maybe Q was the most handsome man she’d seen in her life but this... This was the younger boy she’d noticed a couple of days back, the one in a plaid skirt, shamelessly flirting with everyone within reach. Today, he wasn’t wearing one but the blue jeans hugging his thighs, rolled up almost to the knees, presented a picture just as tantalizing. Even with the hair was a completely different colour, even though the half-up, half-down style kept his face hidden, she was absolutely certain it was the same person.
Just you wait, young beauty, as soon as this “lecture” was over, your princess in shining armour was coming to pick you up!
Suddenly snapping out of the dull weariness, she turned on the auglasses S helped her obtain earlier and tapped away on her comm screen.
What a chance to give the local text sharing feature a go!
“The garden is pretty, but with a blossom like you, it is truly breathtaking. I wonder if anyone has picked this sweet flower or if anyone dares to,” she typed a cheesy note and folded the message into a neat 3D figurine of an origami paper crane with her fingers in the air.
Was S watching? Screw it, even if she was, she couldn’t read the message with her glasses off, right?
Carefully aiming the device at the lone figure, she launched the crane downwards, and it fluttered like a weightless butterfly in spirals, through the glass and right into the young man’s lap, not disturbing the notebook pages. He started at first at the intrusion but then turned his own glasses on and unfolded the message. A shy smile appeared on his plump lips, and he looked flattered, turning his head around to see if the sender was in sight. Catching no one, he typed something below the initial message and deftly folded it back into a crane that, to G’s surprise, flew directly at her, in uneven spirals along the wall. The man traced it with a smile, propping himself back on his arms, his whole slim body and face on full display now.
God, was he good-looking.
Easily passing the physical border of the glass again, the crane crashed into Gentry’s wristcomm, dutifully delivering the message and betraying her tactical position at the same time. An amused kind of surprise showed on the young man’s face and he waved at her to show that she had been exposed. She waved back, trying to look nonchalant but probably failing miserably.
Very smooth, G, way to go.
The message read, “Is a flower only good for looking at? Not this one.”
Oooh, this boy was playing with fire!
“Hey, G,” Sereen nudged. “Have you finished reading?”
“Mm? Oh, yeah.” Gentry lied easily. She had skimmed the first couple of paragraphs and was sure she’d be able to come up with something if asked.
“Done everybody?” the deep gentle voice called from the holoboard and G’s attention snapped back to the dignified face.
The class murmured affirmatively.
“I’m sorry today’s lecture isn’t as fun as usual,” he admitted. “I must say I’m still unsure how to approach such complex topic as this one. But with your help, I hope we’ll figure it out.”
Everyone seemed to perk up.
“You just read an extract on paradoxes,” Q went on. “And you might be wondering why we are raising a philosophical topic on a rational thinking course.”
“There you go,” Sereen whispered. “He’s back to normal!”
G humphed. This did seem interesting. Was it a good idea to read the extract after all?
Q continued, “In the text, you might have encountered the definition of a paradox. Would anyone explain it with their own words?”
A raised hand and the lecturer’s nod brought some courageous soul to their feet.
“It’s when you start with the correct premises, use consistent logic but wind up with an impossible conclusion,” they said. “There are three types: falsidical, veridical and antimony-type, which are...”
“Correct,” Q smiled and nodded the person back down. It was a smile worth starting a thousand wars over.
“Now there’s a reason why I asked you to read about them. Why do you think people have been fascinated with paradoxes for such a long time?”
S raised her hand and received a kind invitation.
“I might be wrong,” she said. “But it seems that they point at the limitations of our thinking, things that seem rational but in fact aren’t. We feel that with our all-conquering logic we can solve any puzzle but it’s not always the case. Right?”
“This is very insightful,” the teacher confirmed. “It is believed by many that what’s rational is true and therefore what rationality cannot explain must be false.”
“I definitely know someone who would die on that hill,” Gentry grumbled under her breath.
“I’m sorry?” Q asked. “Is there something you wanted to add... sorry, I don’t know your name?”
Still half mad with professor Poe, Gentry stood up. “It’s G, I’m a Newcomer. I was saying how a human mind can fool itself into thinking it knows what it looks at as long as it makes sense. But in reality, it’s not there, like the sky.”
That was the only thing she remembered from that last lecture! She felt the tips of her ears heat up but the kind and considering look on Q’s face showed her gamble paid off.
“These are very insightful observations, G, why don’t we try exploring them together?” — he waived her to sit down and turned back to the class — “Five minutes to discuss how paradoxes might reveal the weaknesses of rational thinking. Send your answers to the board when you’re done.”
“Whoa, daring as usual,” Sereen smiled. “I knew you’d enjoy his class.”
“Now, consider these two questions,” Q said to another student who stood up at his hand wave. “If an unstoppable force meets an indestructible object, what is going to happen?”
The person seemed to contemplate it for a while and the teacher didn’t rush him.
“Isn’t it one of those which are impossible to solve because the existence of the one automatically disproves the existence of the other?”
Q nodded, “Correct. The second one about the barber in a small town is of the same sort. Sereen?”
S stood up too, “The one that shaves all and only men that don’t shave themselves?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “At first, a premise like this seems perfectly reasonable, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” S responded, somewhat rashly. “But it’s clear that a barber like this cannot exist.”
“Wait, really?” Gentry whispered as Q nodded in satisfaction and urged her friend to go on.
“Yes, if we ask ourselves if this barber shaves himself. If he doesn’t, then he is part of the group which he does shave that do not shave themselves, but if he is in this group, then he does shave himself which makes it impossible for him to be this barber by definition.”
While the rest of the class was catching up with the logic, Q’s smile got only wider, more inviting.
“What does it tell us about the nature of the premise then?” he asked.
“That although it seems that it sounds logical on the surface, it is in fact nonsense and we don’t even need to hear the rest of the riddle to discard it completely,” S concluded.
The man chuckled.
“Well, I wouldn’t be that brash, to be honest, but on balance, you’re right,” he said. “If you stay after the lecture, I might recommend a couple of books on the topic. Your Newcomer friend is welcome to stay, too.”
G put up the best of the aloof fronts, “I’d be happy to, Professor.”
“Q is fine,” he smiled again and went on addressing the rest of the class that immediately exploded into a heated discussion.
***
“Basically, what I think we’re supposed to learn from this,” S concluded after a while, standing up so that everyone could hear her. “Is that before applying rationality, we have to make sure that all the premises we are dealing with are in fact realistic. Otherwise, there is no way rational thinking will help us.”
“Excellently put, as always,” Q applauded. “I’d love to see if everyone agrees or has something else to add to the discussion but our time is up. Feel free to write me a letter with your reflections on the topic.”
As interesting as the class was, the urge to leave the premises as soon as the teacher dismissed everyone seemed to be universal and applicable even to the Ashtapadans.
“I have to go now,” Sereen said. “Text you later, ok?” And with a reciprocal nod to Q, disappeared in the doors, joining the rest of the students.
Sadly, she couldn’t recall what they were talking about after the lecture, nor what titles Professor recommended for some home reading. She just hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself.
What Gentry did remember though was that after Q left as well and she came up to the panoramic window, Sereen and the mysterious flower boy were leaving the garden together. And it was hard not to notice that her new friend took off her wristcomm before they took off, and hid it in the tall grass.

My wife, Mia, and I were driving cross-country. It was our first attempt at the “Great American Roadtrip.”
Mia and I rented a small RV; more of a camper than a full blown RV. We packed up a couple suitcases with plenty of room for any souvenirs and we hit the dusty trail.
We started our journey on the “Mother Road”-- Route 66-- driving south from Chicago until we connected to i-70 and shot straight west through Missouri.
The goal was to see those parts of the country we had never seen before, stopping anywhere that seemed interesting. From the plains of Kansas up through the badlands of Wyoming and South Dakota.
In Missouri we saw the world’s largest cap gun. In Kansas we visited the Evel Knievel Museum and the World’s Largest Belt Buckle.
We love all those kitschy, tourist trap places.
Eventually, we made it to Colorado and after a few hours more of driving through amber waves of grain, we saw them... the Rocky Mountains.
We made an exit and headed north through the winding mountain highways.
The Rockies were gorgeous. Snow capped in the middle of summer, some of the peaks pierced through the white fluffy clouds.
We saw a sign that read “Traffic Tunnel - 3 Miles.”
A little further and sure enough, there it was, a large tunnel bored directly through the mountain in front of us.
A large sign read, “Pike Tunnel - Longest Traffic Tunnel in the Nation! - Please turn your headlights on now.”
“How long is it?” asked Mia.
“That’s what she said,” I quipped.
But she was right, there was no information beyond the detail that this was the longest tunnel in the nation.
“Can’t be more than a mile or two,” I said as I watched the little white car ahead of us slip into the darkness. A moment later we joined it.
The tunnel was lit by fluorescents that gave everything a greenish yellow tinge. On the left hand side was a raised walkway behind a railing for maintenance access.
Initially I was struck by the incredible amount of work that went into the construction of this man- made marvel.
“We’re under a million tons of rocky mountain right now,” I said.
“How many years before this caves in?” Mia responded.
I shot her a look--
“Let’s save the cave-in talk until we’re out on the other side.”
“I’m just saying, nature will take this back eventually,” she continued.
I scanned the empty road ahead of us.
“Where did the other car go?” I asked.
We were now alone in the tunnel, no cars ahead of us nor behind us.
“Huh... they must have sped off ahead. Maybe they’re scared of a cave-in?”
My Spotify playlist had stopped playing. Mia looked at the phone.
“No cell service.”
She turned on the radio and spun the dial only to find static.
“You’re not going to be able to pick up a station in here,” I said.
She turned the volume down.
“Just wanted to check... If only we had some CDs. This tunnel really keeps going.”
“I would have thought we’d be through it by now,” I replied.
I looked at the RV’s odometer, 45,600 miles. I picked up speed. I wanted to try and catch up to the little white car.
Up until this point, the tunnel was a straight shot, but now the tunnel started to curve to the right. It may have been my imagination but it also felt as though we were descending…
Mia felt it too and she started to get antsy.
“Where did that other car go? How long is this tunnel?”
There was an urgency in her voice.
I was getting nervous, claustrophobia was not usually a problem for me but when I looked down at the odometer and I saw that it had gone up by 3 miles, my mind began to wander to unsettling places.
We were descending in altitude. I could feel it. I could see a slope in the lights on the ceiling and the railing of the maintenance walkway. I could feel a pressure in my head, and I was getting cold.
“Could you grab me a coke from the back, Mia?”
I couldn’t have Mia getting anxious, that would only start a chain reaction and make me freak out which would then make her freak out.
She unbuckled and ducked into the back of the RV to where we had a cooler stocked with drinks and food.
Just as she stepped into the back, I saw something.
There standing on the side of the road was a MAN wearing a reflective safety vest and a hard hat. He was WAVING to me as I passed him by.
Something about him looked... strange…
I watched him in the side-view mirror as we passed and he was still watching the RV, still waving at the back of our vehicle as he faded into the distance.
Mia reappeared from the back of the RV, Coke in hand. She popped it and handed it to me.
“You look worried.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled and took a sip of the Coke.
“Eric, slow down!”
I slammed on the breaks as I saw what made Mia scream. In the road in front of us was a roadblock.
Two reflective traffic sawhorses blocked both lanes of the tunnel. Beyond the roadblock, the lights of the tunnel were dark. There was nothing but a void of blackness.
Standing in front of the roadblock was another man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat, only this time his hard hat had a light on top which obscured his face.
We came to a jolting stop.
I turned to Mia
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a cave-in isn’t it?”
“God, I hope not.”
I rolled down the window, leaned out and yelled to the man in the hard hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
The man was about 5 yards away. He took two steps towards us and then raised a hand to his mouth and yelled.
“Just doing some maintenance!”
“How long is it going to take?!” I yelled back.
The man made a hand gesture as if he didn’t hear me.
“How long is it going to take?!” I called again.
He made the same gesture. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed the door release.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“I gotta know what’s going on.”
“Eric, just stay here, it might not be safe.”
“I’ll be just a second,” I said.
I pushed the door open and stepped down from the RV.
“Stay in your vehicle!” the man yelled.
He took a couple steps towards me with his hand out telling me to stop.
“What’s the hold up?!” I shouted.
The man was a bit closer now but I still couldn’t see his face through the shining light on his helmet.
“Please stay in your vehicle!” he shouted.
There was something off about him.
Then I heard it–
“EEEAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!”
A scream, or something, rolled from deep in the tunnel. The worker turned and looked into the darkness. Then he ran past the barricades and soon all we could see of him was the light on his helmet.
The light disappeared a moment later.
“What the hell was that?! Is someone hurt?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Should we do something?” Mia asked.
I just sat there and watched the pitch black tunnel in front of me. I had no idea what to tell her. I checked the sideview mirrors. There was still nobody behind us.
“Where are the other cars?” I asked.
“They must have gotten through before the roadblock... Or maybe they caused the roadblock?” Mia replied.
“I saw another worker a little ways back. We could try to go back and talk to him.”
“We’d be going straight into any oncoming cars.”
“There’s a maintenance walkway. We didn’t pass him that long ago. We can probably catch him on foot.”
“Maybe we should just wait for the guy to come back.”
She reached over and grabbed my arm. I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
I looked out at the tunnel ahead of us. I turned on the RV’s high beams but all I could see beyond the roadblock was more tunnel and more road.
I checked my phone. Unsurprisingly, there was no service still.
We waited, but the man never came back.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mia said, “How come there hasn’t been another car behind us?
I was having the same thought. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. I looked back at the road behind us. It went back about 200 yards before curving out of sight.
There was no sign of that first worker I saw on the maintenance walk way. I looked at the roadblock ahead of us and clicked on the RV’s high beams. There was nothing beyond the roadblock but more tunnel. It didn’t look like it was under construction, just very dark.
“I think we should keep going,” I said.
“What about the roadblock?”
“We’ll move those sawhorses out of the way and just drive past,” I said as I opened my door.
Mia looked at me, then she cast her eyes to the dark tunnel ahead of us. I knew she was processing the same limited options that I was.
Driving backwards would be a huge risk in the instance of another car finally coming along.
Getting out and walking would take God knows how long, we could have driven 10 miles at this point.
Forward was our best option.
“Let’s do it,” Mia said.
We jumped out and quickly pulled the two sawhorses out of the right lane. I pulled the RV up past the barriers, then we jumped out again and put the sawhorses back where they were. We didn't need another car to come barreling through.
We were finally moving again, slowly. It was pitch black save for the high beams of the RV.
We crept forward at around 15 miles per hour. As the tunnel turned and twisted, my eyes started to play tricks on me. I kept seeing shapes at the furthest point of the tunnel.
I kept seeing something standing just at the end of the next bend but as we roll forward, there was nothing there.
“Where are the workers?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know.”
I was done rationalizing. This was all wrong. Traffic tunnels are never this long.
My mind started to wander to all the road trip urban legends I’d read about; The Killer in the Backseat, The Disappearing Gas Station, The Pale Man In The Corn Field.
Did we stumble into some strange outlier location? An in-between point on the endless roads that cross this country?
Then I saw it–
“Look! A person! Thank god!” Mia shouted.
As we rounded a curve in the tunnel, a group of maintenance workers entered our view.
The three of them stood on the left side of the road behind two more sawhorses topped with flashing lights.
Two of them faced towards us, the third was facing the other two.
The one with his back to us wore a light on his hard hat. Was this the same guy we saw earlier? How did he get this far away?
I approached slowly and rolled down the window.
“Hey! You left us waiting back there!” I yelled.
There was no response.
In fact, all three men were completely silent, and it was hard to tell in the flashing light of the sawhorses, but they looked to be standing COMPLETELY STILL.
“Hello?!” I yelled again.
I pushed open my door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Eric wait--”
I held up a finger to Mia.
“Just a second.”
I slowly stepped towards the 3 men.
“Hello?”
No response… What the fuck?
The bright lights of the sawhorses obscured their faces.
I kept moving closer.
“Hey, what’s going on--”
Then I saw it.
Their faces... They were plastic.
In front of me stood three mannequins.
I backed away toward the RV, then I turned and walked hurriedly to the vehicle.
I was seriously freaked out but I didn’t want to alarm Mia. I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
“They’re mannequins.” I said.
“What?”
“They’re mannequins.”
”Why?... What?...”
“I don’t know…”
I looked back over at the three figures and my blood ran cold…
The Hard Hat Mannequin had somehow TURNED AROUND to face us. All three figures appeared to be watching us now.
Then we heard it--
A loud resonant banging on the side, and then the roof of the RV.
“What the hell was that?” Mia whispered.
We listened, holding our breath. Then--
A shuffling sound--
Something was moving ON or IN the RV.
“Stay here.” I said.
I got up.
“Eric, wait!”
I moved to the back of the RV.
It was dark. I went for a drawer in the kitchenette space and pulled out a flashlight.
I moved to the rear of the RV, the bedroom. My flashlight illuminated an empty room.
“Whoever is back here, I have a gun…”
A shitty bluff. But I didn’t see anything.
I shone the light out of the windows of each side of the RV. Nothing.
Then I heard it–
A shuffling sound, from right above me.
I looked up and screamed–
“Fuck!”
On the roof of the RV, staring through the skylight was a woman with vacuous black eyes and a dead smile.
Her stringy black hair dangled down towards me casting thing black shadows across her horrible pale face.
“Mia, drive! Fast!” I screamed.
Mia JUMPED over to the driver’s seat, shifted into gear and STOMPED on the gas. The RV was clunky but it could move when it needed to.
We lurched forward and I fell back.
I trained my flashlight up onto the skylight again and the woman was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and looked out of the side windows.
Did Mia shake her off? There was no sign of the woman. I moved to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and sweating.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping the RV at a steady 50 mph.
“There was a woman on the roof,” I said flatly.
I realize now that I was in a kind of shock.
“A woman?”
“Her eyes were black.”
Mia just looked at me, then back at the tunnel ahead of us.
“There’s something wrong with this tunnel.” I whispered.
Mia pointed at the road ahead, “Look.”
I looked out at the tunnel. There were more mannequins. A LOT more mannequins. They were positioned on both sides of the road.
They were all facing us and even though I never saw them move, when I looked in the side-view mirror, they were somehow STILL facing us, turning to watch us as we drove past. Watching without eyes.
“Just keep driving.” I said.
As we drove on, the mannequins crowded the sides of the road more and more. There were thousands of them. Eventually they were so close that some of their outstretched arms hit the side of the RV.
They were closing in on us. Squeezing our path forward. One stood in the middle of the road.
“I don’t think i can get around it.”
“Run it over. Don’t stop.”
The RV smashed into the mannequin. Its head shot forward and bounced against the windshield and the vehicle shuddered as it rolled over the body.
Soon there were two in the road. Then three.
I could see where this was going. Pretty soon there would be too many for the RV to ram through, but goddammit we were going to get through as many as we could.
“Speed up, Mia.”
CRASH!
The sound was surreal, smashing into mannequin after mannequin at nearly 60 miles per hour.
Hands, legs, heads and torsos flew.
The windshield cracked, the RV shuddered and screamed and eventually slowed down, despite the screaming engine.
I’m certain the axle was jammed up with lifeless, plastic body parts. Eventually we came to a stop.
“She won’t move,” Mia said.
She pressed on the gas but it was no use, the RV just rocked a little bit.
“Try reverse.”
She shifted and pressed on the gas, we got some decent movement before running into another jam.
“Fuck.”
“Should we get out and look?” Mia asked.
“I’ll go,” I said as I grabbed the flashlight and popped the passenger door. Mia unbuckled her seatbelt.
“We’ll go together.”
We stumbled out of the RV on the passenger side. It was like stepping into Hell.
Countless, lifeless faces stared out at us from the darkness. The only light came from the headlights of the RV and my flashlight.
We clumsily made our way along the side of the RV. The ground was littered with mannequin pieces.
I thought to myself, if we could get a couple yards cleared out behind the rear tires, we might be able to back out and get enough momentum to reverse all the way back out of here.
Instead, when we got to the back of the RV, my stomach flipped and my heart sank.
I was expecting to see a trail of flattened mannequins, instead the RV was now surrounded by thousands of perfectly intact mannequins standing at attention. As if their ranks had some how been replenished after our vehicular assault.
“This is impossible.”
She started to cry. I held her close.
“We’ll keep moving.” I said.
“It will never end. The tunnel makes no sense. It only curves one direction.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole time the tunnel has only been curving to the right. it would sometimes straighten out or go left for a few yards but before too long we were curving to the right again. We’ve either been driving in circles or spiraling downwards.”
“So we’ll go back the way we came and hope we’re not going in circles.” I said.
We had been driving for hours at this point. Walking back out the way we came would take days. But now that I thought about it, Mia was right, we’d only been curving to the right.
This tunnel seemed to be very gradually taking us downwards into the earth.
Going forward would not get us any closer to escape.
“We’ll need food from the RV,” Mia said.
I nodded and we stumbled our way back to the front of the RV, the mannequins’ lifeless faces watching us the whole time.
I stepped up to the passenger door and nearly fell back when I looked through the window.
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
What I saw were two mannequins sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
How they got in there? I have no idea, but what really made my blood run cold was that they were dressed EXACTLY like MIA and I.
They wore identical sets of clothes. The one in the passenger seat had my same New Order T-shirt and black jeans. The one in the driver’s seat had Mia’s green striped sweater and denim shorts.
Their plastic faces stared out through the shattered windshield at the endless crowd of mannequins staring back at them.
Mia stepped up and saw the uncanny display.
“What the fuck?” Mia echoed.
I pulled myself up into the RV and slowly stepped around my mannequin doppelgänger. I avoided looking into its face but I swear i could feel it watching me as I stumbled around it.
Mia followed and we made our way into the back of our dark RV. Luckily we had just stocked our cooler full of deli meat and water not long after crossing the Colorado state line.
I handed Mia the flashlight and pulled open the cooler. I filled a backpack full of food and water.
I turned and saw them–
My mannequin double had somehow moved. It was standing in the aisle watching us.
Mia’s doppelgänger was still seated in the driver’s seat but had turned to peer back at us with its eyeless gaze.
Mia saw the look in my eyes and turned. She screamed when she saw them and backed into me. I put my arm around her and we stood there a moment, letting our skyrocketing heart rates return to Earth.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
I slid the backpack onto my shoulders.
Mia joined me at the door. I looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?” She nodded. I kissed her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
The look on her face killed me. She was terrified. I’m sure the look on my face was similar.
I opened the door and we stepped out…
We again stumbled to the back of the RV. Once we were clear of the RV and all the crushed mannequin body parts, it became easier to find footing, though weaving through an endless crowd of lifeless people was a slow process.
It was pitch black. Without the flashlight we wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of us.
As I walked, the beam of light created the illusion of movement in the crowd. At least I hoped it was an illusion.
The limbs of the mannequins seemed to stretch and turn, but the only sound was that of Mia and I shuffling our way through the crowded tunnel.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Mia and I were sweating and aching. I was about to suggest we stop and rest, but then I saw it and I froze…
Out in the crowd, beyond rows of blank faces I saw a pale face, black hair and a dead smile.
I saw two vacuous eyes staring right at me.
“Mia, do you see her?” I whispered.
“See who?”
I slowly raised my arm and pointed.
It was the woman, or whatever it was, that stared back at me through the skylight on the roof of the RV.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked.
I could see now that the Pale Faced Woman was tall. A few inches taller than the mannequins.
As I pointed, she stared back at me with that terrible grin.
“What do we do?” Mia whispered.
I raised the flashlight and pointed it right at the Pale Faced Woman. I thought maybe this would scare her off.
I was wrong.
The light only made her appear more unsettling as she stared back, unflinchingly.
“What do you want?!” I yelled.
She only stared back at me. She was as still as the mannequins.
“We have to keep going.” I whispered.
Mia didn’t respond. Her body was tense as she held onto me.
“We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back again,” I continued.
I pulled Mia’s hand and we continued on our way through the mannequins, keeping the distance between us and her as wide as possible.
As we moved past, she kept watching us. Though her movements were imperceptible to us, her eyes never left us. Like one of those portraits whose eyes appear to watch you no matter where you stand.
Finally, we got far enough that she was out of sight. But the thought of her being somewhere behind us only unsettled me further and I quickened our pace.
As the hours wore on, there was no sign of the Pale Faced Woman and the crowd of mannequins began to thin out. They still populated the tunnel from one end to the other, but there was more space between them, allowing Mia and I to walk more freely.
The mannequins on the maintenance walkway on the side of the tunnel seemed to thin out as well and I decided it would give us a better vantage if we were walking up there.
I helped Mia climb up the railing that bordered the walkway, then I climbed up behind her. The walkway was elevated 3 or 4 feet above the roadway. We could easily see over the heads of the mannequins in both directions.
There was, of course, no end to the tunnel in sight.
We kept walking.
The mannequins continued to thin out, but they were different now.
There were mannequins dressed as maintenance workers again, but also mannequins dressed as families and businessmen. There was even a group of mannequin nuns standing in a single file line, heads bowed in prayer.
Needless to say, we passed none of this on the way in to the tunnel. I was feeling very hopeless that we were going to be able to find our way out.
I was far beyond speculating how this was at all possible. It’s NOT possible. And even if it were, there is no good reason for someone to do this to us.
The only explanation was the supernatural. Then I saw Her. Rather, I saw THEM.
Arranged in the middle of the tunnel was a circle of mannequins with long black hair and tattered cloth.
They looked exactly like the Pale Faced Woman, minus any facial features. I kept a close watch on them as we passed to make sure they didn’t start following us.
“A door!” Mia shouted.
Mia pointed a few paces ahead of her. There was a door leading into the wall of the tunnel.
We ran towards it. Mia grabbed the handle, turned it and pulled. It was heavy and Mia had to brace her foot on the wall to get it moving.
The metal door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Finally, it was open enough to see past.
It was a hallway. It went out about 5 yards then turned right at a 90 degree angle.
The strangest part was the design of the hallway.
It wasn’t cement or pavement like the tunnel.
The walls were wood paneled and the floor was covered in a thick carpet, like a house from the 1970s.
“I say we see where this takes us.” Mia said.
There was no reason to disagree, but I wasn’t going to get us trapped in there.
I opened up my backpack and took out a water bottle. I opened it and handed it to Mia. She drank half, then I drank the other half.
I slowly closed the door, shoving the empty water bottle in the crack to keep it from closing all the way.
I turned to Mia-- “Okay, let’s go.”
We slowly made our way down the quiet hallway. We got down to where the hallway cornered to the right and that’s when we heard it–
KA-CHUNK!!!--
I whipped around. The door had closed behind us. I ran back to it and tried to push it open, but it was no use. There was no way it closed on its own.
Someone had to have removed the water bottle. Our path had been chosen for us.
There was no turning back.
We continued down the hallway. We turned right. The hallway continued, then turned right again. That should have led us right back to the tunnel. But it didn’t. This part of the hallway went on far longer than was possible without running into the tunnel. Then it turned right again.
It went on like this. Sometimes a section of the hallway was 20 feet long, sometimes it was 20 yards long, sometimes it was 3 feet long. But it always turned to the right.
At first it was a relief to be somewhere other than the cold, dark tunnel. But the hallway very quickly became claustrophobic and before too long, I heard someone walking behind us.
We had stopped to take a break and I heard a third pair of footsteps on the carpet coming from behind us. I backtracked to the last corner.
I was terrified as I slowly peeked around the corner, tense and waiting to see the vacuous eyes and inky black hair of the Pale Faced Woman... but there was nothing there. I wasn’t about to backtrack any further.
“There was no one there.” I whispered.
Mia slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I think I need to rest.” She said.
I put my backpack down on the ground for Mia to use as a pillow. She laid her head down and was passed out in seconds.
I had no idea how long we had been walking at this point. I stood leaning against the wall. My body was telling me to rest but I couldn’t risk falling asleep. I had to keep watch. I knew SHE was following us.
I took in the details of the hallway for the first time. The carpet was a dull brown and the walls a cheap wood paneling. The hanging lighting fixtures were shaded by stained glass, something you might see in an old diner.
Who built this place? Did someone pick out the carpet and the lighting fixtures? Did a team of workers blast these tunnels into the Earth? Or has this place always existed? Was this Purgatory?
I began to feel dizzy. I was panicking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I slumped to the floor and tried to slow my breathing.
I closed my eyes... –
I SHOT up in a panic. I had fallen asleep while I was meant to be keeping watch.
I snapped to my feet and looked around.
Mia was still asleep on my backpack.
Then I noticed that the hallway had changed. A few paces away there was now a plain wooden door in the wall.
I slowly approached it. I put my ear to the door and I could hear what sounded like TV static and the low murmur of voices.
I discreetly grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly. I felt the latch bolt clear and I carefully cracked the door just enough to peek inside.
It was dark, so it took a second for me to register what I was seeing. I saw a small board room. A long table in the center was surrounded by seated men in suits.
At the end of the table stood another man next to an old CRT TV that was playing static. This was the only source of light in the room and all the men around the table were turned towards the tv.
Suddenly the screen flickered from static to a solid dark background. And some warped new age style muzak began playing.
Then the words appeared on the screen that terrified me like nothing else before. In plain text the words read–
“YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I froze as I knew these words were meant for me I watched with terror as the men seated around the table slowly turned toward me in unison.
They were mannequins.
The TV screen then clicked off and they continued staring at me as I could barely make out their forms through the near pitch darkness.
I quickly pulled the door shut. And whipped around to look at Mia, I had a horrible feeling of dread that when I turned around she would be gone, like the message on the TV promised–
“Eric? What are you doing?” Mia was leaning up and staring at me.
Thank God. There was Mia, right where I left her.
I pointed at the door and said, “This door appeared and I--”
“What door?” she interrupted.
I turned and sure enough, the door was now gone.
I explained what happened to her, but I left out the message that appeared on the screen.
-- YOU WILL LOSE HER –
Those words still burned in my brain. I tried to force them out.
We drank water, ate granola and then got moving again.
Hallways. Endless hallways.
After a couple hours of walking we started to hear music. There were small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.
I recognized it as the same new-age muzak that played on the TV in the board room. The melody drilled into our minds. Combined with the dull aesthetics of the quiet hallways and the endless right turns, the music had a hypnotizing effect.
The lengths of the halls became more uniform. That is to say, the straight section of hallway was about 7 paces, then a right turn, then 7 paces and a right turn.
“I think we’re walking in circles... or a square,” Mia said.
I looked at her and took out a bottle of water. I peeled off the plastic label and dropped it on the floor.
Then we kept walking.
7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. And there it was... Mia was right.
The label from my water bottle lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow we had been led into a loop. I lost it.
“FUUUCK!”
I kicked the wall repeatedly and screamed. Mia just leaned her back against the wall.
This was our dynamic. If one of us lost it, the other became zen and thought of a solution. More often than not, I was the one to lose it.
I finally stopped freaking out
“There has to be a way out. A door,” Mia said.
“We would have seen it,” I replied.
“A hidden door,” she said.
She turned around and ran her hands along the cracks of the wood paneling.
“Most likely on the outer wall,” she said.
She beat her fist on the wall, listening for a change in the sound. I exhaled heavily, sweating and tired, and I started searching the wall as well.
We checked the whole first wall, nothing. We checked the second wall, nothing. The third, nothing.
The final wall... Nothing. I gave up and slumped on the floor. Mia immediately went over to the other side of the hall and started checking the inner wall.
“What are you doing? I thought you said it would be on the outer wall?” I asked.
Then we heard it.
Mia beat the wall and instead of the dead thud, we heard a resonate BOOM –
A door…
I shot up and started tapping the wall with Mia until we found where the door ended. It was the width of about 4 wooden panels. I lined myself up in the center, lowered my shoulder and pushed–
IT MOVED! It barely moved but it was enough to confirm this actually was a door! I re-centered and tried again, lowering my center of gravity, I pushed as hard as I could. The door pushed inward about 3 inches, then Mia joined in. We slowly moved the door, 5 inches, then 10, then 15, then 20.
Then Mia slipped inside.
I had a moment of panic as she disappeared into the darkness and those haunting words came back into my mind, “YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I darted past the doorway, falling through the threshold and hitting the concrete floor.
I looked up and there was Mia, thank God. I promised myself I’d never let her out of my sight again.
“The exit...” Mia said.
She looked and sounded as if she were a thousand miles away. I got to my feet and followed her gaze. What I saw nearly brought me to tears.
We were back in the tunnel, but there was light. About a mile down was the mouth of the tunnel, and daylight pouring in. Beautiful daylight. I grabbed Mia tight and kissed her.
“Thank God...” she cried.
We started moving. Nothing was going to slow us down this time. We sped up into a RUN down the maintenance walkway towards that beautiful sunlight.
As we approached, something else came into view. Parked in the middle of the roadway was a large vehicle…
It couldn’t be…
It was!
Our RV sat in the road waiting for us. We ran all the way to it, pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. There were no mannequins to be seen.
I fell into the driver’s seat and Mia handed me the keys. I turned over the engine, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I shifted into gear and floored it towards the sunlight.
As we got closer, I could see the green of trees and the blue of the sky. We were maybe one hundred yards away.
I turned to Mia, tears in my eyes…
And what I saw turned my blood to ice.
Just beyond Mia’s window, that horrifying pale face grinned at me.
The Pale Faced Woman was somehow floating outside of the RV.
Before I could say anything, her hand smashed through the window and gripped Mia by the throat, then in one horrible motion the thing PULLED MIA SCREAMING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND…
Disappeared…
I SLAMMED on the breaks just as the RV passed through the exit of the tunnel and sunlight flooded the cab of the RV. I threw it in park and shot out of the door screaming.
“Mia!? Mia??!!”
I screamed over and over. I rounded the front of the RV and looked back at the tunnel –
-- and what I saw shattered my mind…
The tunnel was gone.
There was only open road.
I had lost her.

Hey y'all...so this has to be one of the craziest things that's ever happened to me and I really wanted to share it. Buckle up cause it's a long one...sorry in advance lol.
It started in 2019 I (26f but back then 21) met this dude (23m at the time) on kik from the Netherlands, let's call him...butthole. So, me and butthole hit it off, we're vibing, we're flirting, all that shebang.
We decide to date online long distance (cause I still lived in America at the time) so we text every day and we call a lot and it's just sooo nice. He was really sweet and nice to me. Well, August of that year I went on a trip to Ireland and got SA'd while there we'd been dating for 3 months at this point.
Once I got back home I finally worked up the nerve to tell him cause I legit had PTSD from that shit and when I did, he got mad at me. He accused me of cheating...I was like wtf?? So we broke up and went no contact and that was that.
Until
2020 it's lockdown....my diddly dumbass was lonely and bored and decided to text him! Like girl wtf was I thinkin? So I text him and he ends up apologizing for accusing me of cheating. He realized he was wrong and just like that, we went back to vibing and flirting. We're also making low key plans for me to visit him once lockdown is lifted too. After a few days of this I'm thinkin we're gonna get back together. But he says to me "I have something to tell you and you're gonna get mad at me".
And I'm like....ok? I didn't even know what to think like no clue what it could be (cause I'm dumb lol) And he goes "so I'm actually living with a girl who is (and I quote) officially my girlfriend". Oh man I was pissed and really hurt...like that fucking hypocrite!! So he goes on to explain they'd been dating for 2 Y E A R S!!
Anyway, so I'm dumb and was so in love and had no self esteem and thought he was the best I could get so I ask if he wants to leave her. He was like yea but we have a house together and I recently lost my job because of the pandemic so it'd screw us both over if I left now. I should've run right then and there but nooooo.
So I was like "you want to leave her and be with me right? Like, you will right?" And he said yes, I want to be with you, I'll leave if I can, blah blah blah." After a couple weeks of us acting coupley, sexting, sending pics, flirting and shit I woke up one day and realized, he's never gonna leave her for me. Ever. So....I decided I have to find this girl and tell her cause this is bullshit.
Problem is...I know nothing about her and apparently barely anything about him. He wouldn't tell me her name or anything. And he told me back in 2019 that he doesn't have social media (I should've known that was a lie cause who doesn't at least have facebook?) So I have nothing except his first and last name (later I find out he lied about how his last name is spelled and he gave me his nickname instead of his actual first name!...bro is a pathological liar I s2g!)
I tried looking for him on social media (obviously I didn't find him) I would try to ask about her name, but like in a really chill way, obviously he wouldn't tell me. I got desperate and googled Netherlands chat sites, and got on one and legit asked each person if they knew butthole mcbuttface from Rotterdam...I knew it was a long shot but I had to try.
That ended in a flop (well not entirely but I'll get back to that later) So then I get real crafty. I decide that I'm gonna play an adult fun game with him. I ask a question, he answers it truthfully and he gets a "reward". So I made sure to write out all the questions, starting with super innocent ones and I put the really revealing ones later cause I figured he'd be thinking with his other head at that point so he'd answer anything I asked.
We didn't do this over video call, we texted and I sent videos doing the thing (that way I could write down his answers) I did a lot of shit I'm not proud of. But I got the answers I needed. So I went all FBI and I got the specific area he lived from him and I ended up finding roughly where his house is, I was hoping I could find her name somewhere with that but it was a bust.
I tried to use the other answers to find stuff but I got nothing. I then decide to confront him over one of the answers (his brother's name) cause I legit thought he lied, it didn't sound like a name a Dutch person would have. He told me it was the truth. It's a really weird name for someone in the Netherlands so I looked him up on Facebook and I FOUND THAT BITCH!
That's how I realized he gave me the wrong spelling of his last name. So through his brother I found butthole's page and through butthole's page I found her!!! It took me weeks to find her! I was so shooketh! I couldn't believe I actually did it! So I go and look through her profile for a bit and I see that a few days before we played that game he FUCKIN PROPOSED TO HER!!!
I literally screamed when I saw that...I was so pissed and upset that he did that to her..... So I take a shit ton of screenshots and send her a message basically telling her everything. And she responded like "omg thank you for telling me". Like she wasn't upset at me or anything and that made me so sad. We chit chatted a bit and she was telling me all this shit about how she heard he was only with her for her money and blah blah blah...and she asked me for a few more specific screenshots which I gladly sent.
Then she said that she was at work and would confront him when she was home. I was in full support mode and was like I'm here for you and I'm so sorry this happened. And she was in support mode and she said she was sorry it happened to me too. So we exchange numbers and start texting. Later she texted me saying that she was off work and she was almost home and I wished her luck. At that point I texted him saying something like bye bitch good luck and blocked him lol.
So then I waited to hear from her...I check an hour later and saw that she blocked my number....I was so confused. I genuinely wish I could know what he said to her cause y'all...she ended up staying with him and getting married.I saw the pics on Facebook lol but yea....she could do so much better like...idk how this gremlin lookin ass bitch pulled 2 girls cause he's ugly inside and out. Idk if they're still together. I haven't looked in on them since I saw the wedding pics.
So yea, that's my story...but I said I would come back to the chat site not being a complete flop. I met a dude on there and we became friends and he introduced me to a guy who is now my boyfriend of almost 4 years and I ended up moving to the Netherlands to be with him lolol....I'm nowhere near where butthole lives so I'll never run into him but yea thanks for reading!

On may 25th of 2023, I stopped drinking completely. Cold turkey. Im not a good drunk. Im an angry drunk. Not an angry tipsy, if I get like DRUNK DRUNK, I get angry at the littlest things. Last time, in may of 2023, I lied about drinking and how drunk I was. This is what triggered me deciding to stop.
so I stopped 100%.
from may 25th, 2023 - March 2, 2024.
My wife and I have been married for about two years. She has her son through a previous marriage. I have my son through a previous marriage and then together we have our daughter.
during this time, my wife never stopped drinking. She can be an angry drunk, but it is not inherently in her nature.
She would order drinks when we went out to dinner, she would drink white claws at the house. For a while, she was not asking me to go to the store to buy her alcohol, but rather having it DoorDashed to the house. I genuinely thought this was a huge waste of money, so I offered a handful of times to go and do that for her. It didn’t bother me.
I stayed sober for roughly 9 months, that is, until my wife and I went on a date night. I planned it, booked a reservation, all that stuff. Real nice.
Anyway, we are at dinner and my wife asked me, “so, do you see yourself just going without alcohol for like your entire life? Like forever?”
And I said, “I don’t know I thought about it a little bit, but honestly not too much. I do have this image, though in my head, of me as like a 50-year-old man wearing my hair is all gray and my beard is gray and me and you are at some family event, maybe Christmas, maybe Thanksgiving or something. And all the kids are running around and doing their thing and I am just kind of looking out at all of the activity and really feeling proud of what we have built and the family we have built in the relationships. And in my hand is a glass of really really nice whiskey with a big ol ice cube, right in the middle. Like… That’s the idea that I have in my head for like… Satisfaction? I guess? Comfort? Security?”
So we talked a little bit more about that, but it ended up with her, offering me a glass of wine. And I said sure. It’s date night. It’s been like nine months. I have no intention, nor desire to seriously begin drinking again. Like I have absolutely zero desire to drink to get drunk.
Anyway, I had a glass of wine. Had one glass of wine. Enjoyed it. It was very nice. We had a great night. Went home. That’s it.
But then, like… Fast forward like a week or two or some thing… And one of the things I drink a lot is lemonade… So she comes home and she’s got two really tall Mike’s hard lemonade. And she’s like I got these for you to try. and I was like OK. And I drink them and we hung out and had a great night I didn’t get like wasted or even remotely close, and no issues. Cool.
So, then, like one night, I’m by myself, like I do every Sunday and and then, the urge just hit me to like have a claw. And I was like I mean, sure, why not? Like my whole mentality around drinking has changed over the course of this past 9 to 10 months , so I’m not worried about it in the least. I know my brain.
So I have a claw. I have two of them.
And then, the next day, she asked me, “hey, did you drink my claws?” and I was like, “yeah I had some.” and then she’s like, “I didn’t know we were like getting back into it like that.” And I was like what do you mean? And she was like well you were just by yourself, and you felt like you needed a claw. And I was like I didn’t feel like I NEEDED a claw, I just like felt like having one, and she was like that really scares me.
and i GET THAT.
But I’m also really fucking confused. And I feel like I’m being yanked around a little bit.
And then she just went on this spiel about how this is starting to really make her nervous in really scare her and shit.
and I just feel really annoyed. And confused.
Like I’ve made so much fucking progress in the thing is dude… I think alcohol had a massive role to play in me making bad choices, but I do believe it was the bad choices that led to the climax of me and my wife’s bullshit.
I thought my brain had changed and developed and I just think my view on alcohol and like a drinking socially has completely and 100% changed.
And I think my wife like SOMETIMES wants her old drinking buddy back or something… I don’t know. But it’s like she’s only cool with it when she gives it to me? Or when she wants me to have it?
so then like the whole month of May. I mean, it’s like… back to the old days of drinking in the house. Im not getting obliterated by any means, but like im coming home, cracking open a claw, etc. she’s cracking open claws, etc. and we’re drinking and having a blast and its all fine, staying up WAY later than we should have. We’re not getting in fights tho. Its all fine.
then, rewind to this past sunday. It was my morning to get up with the kids. I do. At about 12:30 PM, I crack open my first claw. That was my first mistake.
everything, is mostly fine throughout the day, no big deal. But then I go to start my start my hobby @ 5:00 PM, where i will be by myself until about 11:00 PM.
while im doing my hobby, im drinking, my wife and I are texting about a friend of ours and how they’ve been acting like not so cool lately. And its been bothering me.
by 11:00 PM im pretty drunk. Likkkeee pretttyyy fuckin drunk.
i call my friend up, we have a great conversation about the shit thats been on my mind. All good.
but then, I get off the phone, I go into our bedroom, i lay down on the bed and I begin telling my wife that I spoke to our friend and before I can even get through the story, wife can tell that im like 3 sheets to the wind. And starts yelling at me. Getting upset at how drunk I am. Understandable. I was not in a place to like… have that conversation. Like I was GONE. And then this fuckin angry version of me comes out. and we start arguing. I slam doors. I say NASTY shit. She locks me out of the bedroom. That pisses me off. I try to get in by just whiteknucling the door handle. Doesn’t work. I leave. I kick a laundry basket. I grab a blanket. I go up stairs to the couch and pass out.
the next morning, wife gets up with the kids, takes em to school, I try to talk to her in the morning. We get into another fight.
i spend all day upstairs. I work all day from the up stairs loft.
our daughter gets home. I make her dinner. We go about our regular shit.
i was scheduled to do my hobby again last night. I was not in the mood. I hung out with my wife in our bedroom all night just scrolling through my phone as she worked on her computer.
she realizes that im tired and gets upset saying, “its like if youre not doing your hobby, everything else bores you and you’re tired.”
i tell her, “I honestly didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me today.”
i stay up, scrolling through my phone.
she had conversation with me about certain things. About the gift we bought my son (her stepson) and where we were going to set it up and how to take care of it.
she talks to me about these two songs she’s heard that seem to have the exact same beat.
we talk about how we need to re-do our budget bc we just got new bank accounts.
we laugh a few times.
eventually, she climbs into bed, we watch an episode of last week with Jon Oliver, and she rolls over to go to sleep.
before she falls asleep, I tell her how sorry I am,. How ashamed and stupid I feel. I tell her im so sorry for overdoing it. I dont know what got into me. I dont know why I decided to drink so heavily. I tell her that isn’t the type of husband I want to be. I tell her it’s not the type of father I want to be. I scared her with how drunk and angry I was. And its like all the hard work I did over the past year, it’s completely went away and was tarnished bc of the decision I made in one night to drink so heavily. I tell her I dont know how she could ever forgive me and I understand that. I tell her if I were to lose her, it would be considered my greatest failure. I tell her a lot more before I say, “and thats about it really.”
she says, “I dont know if I can respond to that right now, but thank you for sharing.”
she falls asleep. I fall asleep. I toss and turn all night. Dreading this morning to come.
i wake up, I get the kids ready, get daughter breakfast, get myself ready, I take daughter in to say bye bye. She is as sweet as ever with daughter. As if nothing happened.
i leave, take daughter to daycare, I go to work.
we havent spoken. ———
I don’t know what to do.
I thought that I was different. And I thought that after spending so much time not drinking any alcohol, I had formed a sort of new relationship with it and now had control. I don’t know why I made that stupid fucking decision to crack open that white claw at 12:30 PM.
I’m now thinking that I’m going to lose my wife and kids. And I have never been so scared in my life.
The obvious answer is, “you have to stop. Not even a few drinks and getting tipsy and being able to handle it is even remotely worth risking losing my wife and kids.”
I could give a fuck about drinking alcohol ever again.
I don’t know how I let it weasel its way back into my life. But it is the definition of a slippery slope. It just keeps going. And I got too comfortable and too confident in my ability to maintain. Until I got obliterated and lost all sense of dignity and respect.
I don’t know what the fuck I could even begin to possibly say for her to give me another shot at this. Of course, I think if we both stopped drinking, that would be the most ideal reality, but I don’t think that she should have to pay for my bullshit.
If there’s anyone out there, who read this whole thing, I really do appreciate it.
i’m just looking for some sort of advice as to what to do next

I sat in our dark bedroom, the computer screen glaring with a harsh, white light. A banner flashed before my eyes: “Seek wisdom by understanding yourself.”
“Chloe, check this out,” I called over my shoulder to my girlfriend playing The Sims on her laptop.
She glanced up, her brow furrowing in confusion before giving me a bemused look. “What the hell are you looking at?” she asked.
“It’s some cult,” I replied, unable to hide my fascination. “I fell down a rabbit hole and found this local place downtown. It's a derivative of Aleister Crowley and Golden Dawn bullshit.” I pointed to the Google Street View image of a dilapidated storefront in an ethnic shopping center.
She smirked, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I never pegged you as the religious type.”
“Check this out,” I continued, clicking through the site. “They have some photos.”
We spent some time going through the albums celebrating various solstices. Most were taken in an odd room with black and white checkered floors, adorned with Egyptian pseudo-artifacts, bathed in the glow of red and purple lights that transformed the scene into a surreal dreamscape.
The people certainly had an alternative vibe. Tattoos were plentiful, but other than that they looked like they came from all different walks of life. Many of them looked like they had their fair share of bullying in high school - no shortage of that. But most of them looked relatively normal aside from the occasional piercing.
One photograph in particular caught my eye. A woman, sitting in a bright red room, sat on an altar, holding a staff in her right hand, wearing nothing. A man was kneeled before her, his arms tied behind him, rope anchored to the ceiling. They were sliding a knife down his back, a small trickle of blood dripping to the floor.
“Damn,” Chloe started. “She’s butt-ass naked.”
“You wanna go?” I asked. “They’re having a get together tonight.”
“You know what, fuck it. Why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything.” she replied.
“Good,” I smiled, standing up. “Because I already ordered an Uber.”
She sighed before opening a drawer and pulling out a small pipe. “I’ll go, but i'm not going sober.”
It was a cold, shitty Seattle winter night. We got dropped off in the parking lot and spent a few minutes looking for the storefront. We finally found it next to a dog groomer and Pho restaurant with some pun for the name I can’t seem to remember.
We entered the shop, which consisted of two narrow isles separated by wood shelves barely big enough for me to fit down. We spent some time looking at the various items, my attention diverting to a vial of elk blood. I remember wondering if they were even allowed to sell this without some type of medical certification they definitely did not have while Chloe shuffled through a bowl of mix and match crystals.
“Can I help you?” I heard a woman say from the back as she emerged from a beaded curtain. She was a short, overweight woman wearing what I could only describe as a sports bra and hula skirt.
“Hi, uh,” I stuttered. “I’m George and this is Chloe. We’re here for the… winter solstice celebration?”
“Oh, goodie! Newcomers!” she said with an out of place, overjoyed expression as she clapped her hands. Chloe and I laughed nervously.
“The door is in the back, but you can come through here just this time.” she said with a smile, arm holding the beaded curtain open.
We walked through a dark hallway, somehow more cramped than the shop, into a rather large room. A gaggle of people were huddled in the back, which Chloe and I quietly shuffled into.
A bearded man paraded around the room, white robes and red headdress cascading into a cloak, knuckles adorned with several large rings gripping a spear, held vertically in front of him. Behind him, another bald man, white robes and yellow cloak, followed behind, white sleeves crossed over his chest.
I glanced at Chloe’s bloodshot eyes, THC clearly flowing through her system. I gave her a knowing look, as if to say Having fun yet? She returned a slow smile.
Without warning, the entire crowd clapped their hands together over their heads as a woman in blue robes walked past, waving a censure leaking white smoke. We awkwardly followed to match the group.
The blue curtains on the back wall opened to reveal an older Asian woman sitting perched on the altar I saw in the photos, again, completely naked. And before you ask, no. She wasn’t attractive. It’s never the ones you hope it is. The red robed man kneeled down and softly kissed her knees.
I glanced back at Chloe. Her smile was so big I was afraid she was going to laugh at any moment. I pinched her on the side and whispered into her ear “Do. Not. Fucking. Laugh”. Honestly, I think I just made it worse. Her face turned beet red as she bit her cheeks.
The ritual went on for another half hour or so. They must’ve said “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law” at least a dozen times.
We were getting kind of bored and were ready to leave before the woman in the blue robes wandered in with a caged chicken.
"No fucking way" I thought. Surely enough, the man in the yellow robes held the chicken high in the air, before slitting its throat and draining blood into a large metallic basin. The man winced as the chicken flailed violently, scratching up his arms, before eventually succumbing to blood loss.
One by one, each person there stood between a white and black pillar saying love and intention in Greek before eating a piece of something, taking a sip of blood, and saying “There is no part of me that is not of the Gods.”
Chloe and I hung back, and politely declined when our turn came. Once all was said and done, they busted out some alcohol and started celebrating. We slipped out into the street, bursting out laughing. After we finally collected ourselves, Chloe whipped out her phone and showed me she took dozens of pictures of the ritual.
We laughed our asses off the entire way home. First thing she did was open her laptop and post the pictures on Twitter, tagging the lodge with the caption “me and the boys chilling right now”.
We returned to the usual rhythm of our lives. I went to work, conducting meetings and answering emails, while Chloe went back to her classes. A few days later, Chloe checked her Twitter and saw that she had gained a few thousand likes. The whole ordeal became a running joke between us.
I would eat fruit snacks and sip on my soda, saying, “There is no part of me that is not of the Gods”. A few weeks later, we had mostly forgotten about it, except for the occasional recounting as a funny story to regale our friends.
One night while Chloe and I were spending our evening the usual way with me on the computer and her on her laptop, I felt her furiously tap my shoulder while staring wide eyed at the window. Confused, I took my headphones off and walked over, pulling back the curtain to reveal 6 people standing in black robes and animal masks watching us from the hillside.
“What do we do, should I call the cops?” Chloe whimpered.
“No, they’re just a bunch of larpers. They’re not going to do shit! Just trying to scare us.” I said angrily as I closed the blinds and hopped back on my computer.
Chloe sat there for a few minutes in a tense pose with her arms folded together. She went to double check the door was locked, before we continued our night as normal.
The next day I got a text from Chloe frantically telling me to come home immediately. When I arrived, there was a squad car parked outside our building. I ran up the stairs to see two officers standing by Chloe in the doorway. I nearly shouted asking what was going on. They lead me inside to show me a massive black symbol drawn on our wall, a six-pointed star made from one continuous line.
We finished our police report and they told us they’d get back to us if they find anything. I’ve been robbed often enough to know that means they’re going to forget about this before they’ve even gotten back into their squad car.
Furious, I stormed over to the shop and banged on the window. The hula skirt woman came over and cracked the door open just enough for me to see one of her eyes.
“What the fuck do you think your little posse is doing!?” I screamed at her. “Breaking into my apartment like that!? You all are fucking psychos!”
“I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about”, she said with a sly grin.
“Oh, yeah?” I said pointing a finger in her face. “If anyone tries any shit like that again I’m going to burn your goddamn shop to the ground, do you hear me?”
She looked at the ground, clearly nervous. I have never blown up at a stranger like this but I could tell my threats were working.
After a moment of silence I stormed off again, back towards home.
“You meddle with forces you do not understand!” she called out from the shop.
I picked up a glass bottle from the sidewalk and chucked it, smashing against her shop window, forcing her to close the door and disappear into the shadows. I’m not particularly proud of how I behaved in this moment, but unless you’ve had someone break into your home and draw shit on the walls, hold on to your judgment.
The next few days passed without so much as a peep from them. Chloe and I began to relax, convincing ourselves that the cult had been scared off. Life seemed to be returning to normal, and the unsettling incident became just another story.

I will try to keep this short. I'm a 43 single black gay man and I was recently invited to a group "activity" from a very nice friend of mine. I knew what kind of party this was and I was beyond excited to attend. When I got there, the host was very gracious and introduced me to many of the men. Everybody was hot and it got me ready to go. After about 30 minutes for everyone to get acquainted (about 25 guys) we all got naked. Many of the guys got right into business. Lots of making out and lots of oral. The person I kind of buddied up with is Asian. We were the only two people of color. When we tried to join in on the fun, people would leave and move on to another part of the house. I tried not to think anything of it. So, the other guy and I followed and tried to join in again. We got blocked off by the other guys and they continued on with their fun. The Asian guy then left the party. At this point, it was clear that we were being ignored, even though we were invited by people who were at the party. I went out to the hot tub to clear my mind and the host was there. We started to talk and making a connection. Soon after, people joined us and I lost that connection and the conversation me and the host were having. I couldn't take it anymore. I got dressed, left, and began to cry. I never felt so disgusting and ignored in my life. I was hoping it wasn't a racist incident, but even my friend who was there thought it was, afterwards. Yet, he was so horny he couldn't stop what he was doing to check up on me and ask why I was leaving. He saw me put my clothes on. I didn't think a moment like this would shake me so terribly. Three days later and I'm still trembling over the ordeal. Like some sort of PTSD. I get flashes over it. You know, we are gay and it's hard to find a group of people you can identify with. We go through such hardships, but to go through a situation like that by your own kind really hurts. I've tried my best to leave it all behind. It was just a situation and I was able to get myself out of it, but it doesn't mean I'm ok or it doesn't hurt. My friend did text me the next day to ask if I was ok. After I explained the evening, he thought it was very racist. The host contacted later as well, asking if I enjoyed the evening. I told him it was just ok. He apologized and was wondering if I was free at some other point to come over. He didn't say for what most likely sex. I didn't tell him exactly what happened and how I felt. I don't believe it was his fault. He was the one that asked if I was ok in the hot tub and conversed. Anyways, it's just days later and I can't seem to shake it off. It keeps me up and I can't sleep. For now, I have ended contact with the friend who invited me. More like he has to reach out to me if he wants to talk. I've always been a positive person. I've tried so hard to believe that this situation wasn't racist, but I just can't shake it. Any advice on how to shake this off and move on?

So, I’ll start by saying I’m really naïve. I (23f) have been in a serious relationship for going on 5 years, engaged for two, with my fiancé (26m). We have been together long enough that we even have a child together. Our relationship is great in my opinion. We can be playful and serious, laugh and cry, and love unconditionally together. But, a little over 6 months ago, we moved to a smaller city and made friends with a couple who worked with him. Well, long story short, the wife came to me about how my fiancé was on Bumble Friends and how her sister, who admits is a bit a of “mover” when it comes to men, found him and added him. The wife said she knows that Bumble Friends makes a Bumble Dating account as well and told me to check his phone. Now, I’ve never felt the need to go through my fiancé’s phone, not once and suddenly doing it bothers me to my core. He’s never given me a reason to not trust him. A bit of backstory to him: when he was a university student, he was a bit of a man whore, and has an extensive body count. But again, he’s never given me any indication of a need to check his phone. Well, this wife friend began sending me links to different ways to hide things on your phone (like hidden apps that look like others and whatnot). Even when I asked her not to worry about my relationship, so continued. (She caught her husband cheating on her with several women and now checks his phone every night, even without his knowledge). Well, after maybe a month, I did check my fiancé’s phone and he wasn’t cheating BUT there were questionable messages that were played off as jokes between some of his female friends. Of course, I talked to him about it and he broke down and told me he didn’t even think about how it would look for someone outside the friendship and immediately told me and his friends that they need to change the way they joke, because it was inappropriate for them to make jokes about showering together and such. The most concerning was his female friends sending him pictures and asking him if, as a man, they were appealing enough to send to their significant other(s), which prompted with me telling him to change his ways or he’d be single and I’d raise our child alone. Since then, there hasn’t been an issue. But the wife has come back into my texts and is telling me to do research about “cheater apps”. I’m so insecure in general and truly love my soon to be husband. I don’t know what to do. Should I look through his phone and explain to him why? Should I ignore everything? I’m so confused.

There is a curious dynamic at work in politics these days. Trump does not appear to be trying to court voters to his standard. If he were, he would be reaching out to Nikki Haley voters and trying to moderate his stances. Instead, he is rejecting her voters and doubling down on extreme positions. Rather than trying to appeal to swing voters, he seems to be trying to whip up his right-wing base to engage in violence on his behalf. In Minnesota on Friday, Trump echoed fascists when he told supporters, "No matter how hateful and corrupt the communists and criminals we are fighting against may be, you must never forget this is not a nation that belongs to them. This is a nation that totally belongs to you. It belongs to you. This is your home, this is your heritage." Saturday, at the annual meeting of the National Rifle Association in Dallas, Texas, Trump floated the idea that he could throw out the constitutional amendment limiting a president to two terms. “You know, FDR 16 years—almost 16 years—he was four terms. I don’t know, are we going to be considered three-term? Or two-term?” he asked the crowd. Some yelled, “Three!” In the same speech, Trump told attendees that the Second Amendment “is very much on the ballot” in November, and he urged gun owners to vote and to “be rebellious.” Then he told the crowd that Biden’s actions were such that if he “were a Republican, he would have been given the electric chair, they would have brought back the death penalty.” This evening, Trump’s Instagram account posted a video of what a newspaper would look like after a 2024 MAGA win. Under the headline “WHAT’S NEXT FOR AMERICA?” were the words “INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH SIGNIFICANTLY INCREASED DRIVEN BY THE CREATION OF A UNIFIED REICH,” a clear reference to fascism and German dictator Adolf Hitler’s Third Reich. It is not clear to me how anyone can any longer deny that Trump is promising to destroy our democracy and usher in authoritarianism. But it is also not clear that he is still a figure that any but the extremes of his base will follow to that end. Hence his emphasis on turning them to violence. His lies have become increasingly outrageous. On Friday he told a crowd in Minnesota that he won the state by “a landslide” in 2020 even though he actually lost it by more than 7 points. At the NRA annual meeting, Trump claimed that his former physician told him he is “healthier” and “a better physical specimen” than the famously athletic former president Barack Obama. At that same event he boasted that he won 31 club golf championships; the day before, he boasted that he won 29. Significantly, he continues to insist that the area around the courtroom is like “Fort Knox.” “There are more police than I’ve ever seen anywhere because they don’t want to have anybody come down,” he said today, “There’s not a civilian within three blocks of the courthouse.” But this is, quite simply, a lie. Virtually no one has turned out to support him. As conservative lawyer George Conway noted today, “There is virtually complete freedom of movement around that courthouse.” Social media contributor Eddie Smith, who filmed the handful of Trump protesters in New York today, put it more colorfully. After noting that “MAGA’s not repping in New York,” he added: “Wait a minute! You guys hear that? There is a mouse pissing on a ball of cotton in China. That’s how quiet it is out here.” Republican lawmakers are stepping in where Trump’s base followers are not. Republicans attacked as unfit for office 2016 Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Clinton for her use of a private email server. They tried to impeach current president Biden on unfounded accusations that he took bribes from foreign countries. Now they find themselves forced to defend a man who is currently the defendant in a criminal trial that is showing that his associates acted like a criminal gang. As Tom Nichols put it today in The Atlantic, that defense is partly because they are afraid of their own voters. Nichols also called out those “now circling Trump like the cold fragments of a destroyed planet” who “resent the people who stuck to their principles.” Those MAGA Republicans lawmakers are, like Trump, trying to gin up anger with lies. Representative Anna Paulina Luna (R-FL), who went to Trump’s Manhattan trial to support him on Thursday, told Jesse Watters of the Fox News Channel and later posted on social media that “[t]hey’re trying to keep cameras out of the courtroom so that the American people don’t see what’s happening.” Former federal prosecutor Ron Filipkowski noted in response that “New York has banned cameras in courtrooms since June 30, 1997.” The most important of their lies, though, is that the 2020 presidential election was stolen and that to protect the 2024 election, it is imperative to police the election. This is the same tactic Trump used in 2020, claiming exactly four years ago that “they send in thousands and thousands of fake ballots.” Those lies have resulted in a huge increase in threats against those whom MAGA perceives as an enemy. Danny Hakim, Ken Bensinger, and Eileen Sullivan reported in the New York Times yesterday that last year, threats against federal judges increased 150% over 2019: 450 federal judges were targeted. Since 2018, threats to members of Congress have increased by 50%, with more than 8,000 such threats last year. More than 80% of local officials also say they have been threatened or harassed. MAGA lawmakers refuse to say they will accept the results of the 2024 election. On Saturday, Wisconsin senator Ron Johnson refused to commit to that fundamental tenet of our democracy. On Meet the Press on Sunday, Florida senator Marco Rubio also declined to say he would accept the election results. Those vying for the Republican vice presidential nomination, including North Dakota governor Doug Burgum and South Carolina senator Tim Scott, have refused to say they would accept the results. Their tactics are working among the Republican base. A CBS News/YouGov poll released this weekend showed that only 47% of Arizona Republicans say they will accept the results of the 2024 election no matter who wins. An equal number—47%—say they will challenge the results if the other side wins. That result is not symmetrical with the Democrats: 82% of them say they will accept the results, while only 14% say they will challenge the results if their opponents win. But people are pushing back against the MAGA narrative. On May 15 the Texas Tribune and ProPublica published a story by Jeremy Schwartz about Courtney Gore, a woman who ran for a Texas school board to combat pornography and critical race theory in the schools, only to find there wasn’t any. When she told the public, her former colleagues turned on her. “I’m over the political agenda, hypocrisy bs,” Gore wrote. “I took part in it myself. I refuse to participate in it any longer. It’s not serving our party. We have to do better.” Steve MacLaughlin, a meteorologist for NBC 6 News in Miami, reported on a new law Florida governor Ron DeSantis signed into law last week that will remove references to climate change from state law. “On Thursday, we reported on NBC 6 News that the government of Florida was beginning to roll back really important climate change legislation and really important climate change language in spite of the fact that the state of Florida, over the last couple of years, has seen record heat, record flooding, record rain, record insurance rates, and the corals are dying all around the state,” MacLaughlin said. “The entire world is looking to Florida to lead in climate change, and our government is saying that climate change is no longer the priority it once was. Please keep in mind, the most powerful climate change solution is the one you already have in the palm of your hands: the right to vote. And we will never tell you who to vote for, but we will tell you this: We implore you to please do your research and know that there are candidates that believe in climate change and that there are solutions, and there are candidates that don’t.” On May 17, former lieutenant governor of Georgia Geoffrey Duncan noted on Amanpour & Company that Trump had done less for rural voters than any other president in modern history. “At the end of the day,” he said, “we just cannot get into the business in America of electing dishonest human beings to represent us…. The world’s watching us. I’m hoping we get this right.” Tonight, Sarah Matthews, who was deputy press secretary for the Trump administration, wrote: “Trump’s continued use of Nazi rhetoric is un-American and despicable. Yet too many Americans are brushing off the glaring red flags about what could happen if he returns to the White House. When someone shows you who they are, believe them.” — Notes: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/article/2024/may/19/trump-nra-convention-dallashttps://www.rawstory.com/trump-threat-biden/https://nymag.com/intelligencearticle/the-nra-is-weaker-than-ever-how-much-does-that-matter.htmlhttps://time.com/6979795/trump-receives-nra-endorsement-urges-gun-owners-vote/​​https://apnews.com/article/election-2024-trump-minnesota-4f7ebfe7a2e1949d38a7c9894616a985 https://apnews.com/article/trump-election-2024-rhetoric-germany-antisemitism-31002afb91b642c0314223d19e51f427https://www.msnbc.com/rachel-maddow-show/maddowblog/marco-rubio-joins-republicans-hedging-accepting-election-results-rcna153011 https://presswatchers.org/2024/05/trump-choosing-not-to-testify-in-his-defense-should-be-a-banner-headline/https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/19/us/politics/political-violence.htmlhttps://thehill.com/policy/energy-environment/4675594-florida-meteorologist-ron-desantis-climate-change-roll-back/https://captimes.com/news/elections/top-wisconsin-republicans-mixed-on-accepting-2024-election-results/article_2ae8f1e4-1538-11ef-a217-d7802fd5a882.htmlhttps://www.reuters.com/world/us/donald-trump-fire-up-supporters-nras-annual-us-gathering-2024-05-18/,accepted%20the%20influential%20group's%20endorsement)https://www.theatlantic.com/newsletters/archive/2024/05/the-maga-memory-hole/678435/https://www.texastribune.org/2024/05/15/texas-granbury-isd-school-board-courtney-gore/X: BidenHQ/status/1791469492440072359RonFilipkowski/status/1792195770374099083samstein/status/1792188951920361645HueyRey/status/1792635408506912824mkraju/status/1792515853314904293gtconway3d/status/1792548740525363276eddsmitty/status/1792573721615434037atrupastatus/1792626209118884346BidensWins/status/1791609511435714795BidenHQ/status/1792209690664845569BidenHQ/status/1791946911340999113CarlosGSmith/status/1792207611733172238Tim_Walz/status/1791620309105119419BidenHQ/status/1791949552469082444AccountableGOP/status/1791661408641298808SarahAMatthews1/status/1792760772193374274

https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/may-20-2024

Recently dropped my pair of Costa Blackfin Pros and my glass lenses completely cracked. I sent them in to have the lenses replaced. This was just about 3 weeks ago, so I decide to check in on the status because I have been totally left in the dark (no "we got your glasses!" or "We are beginning your repair now" email updates or texts). Turns out they got them about 2 weeks ago, and they have been waiting for the new lenses to be shipped to their repair center for over a week before they can begin making the repair. Which apparently the repair itself can take up to 15 days?? When I confronted the customer service representative about the ridiculous nature of paying $130 dollars upfront, to then have to wait over a month for a simple repair, he said "if you want to make it cheaper you can have the lenses shipped to you, and have them installed by a Costa Associate for Free!"
So let me get this straight, I would be cheaper, and faster if I did all the work myself instead of sending it directly to their repair center?
I'm not sure if Luxottica is on a mission to have the worst customer service known to man but they sure are steaming down that path.
TL;DR: Costa (Luxottica) Customer Service Repair Center does not have the parts to repair their own sunglasses and I've been with sunglasses for almost a month waiting for them.

I forgot if I posted about this already.
Last summer, I broke up with someone after a serious relationship (wasn’t sad it was mutual).
I decided that for once, I NEED for once in my life to be single and enjoy it. My plan was 1 full year of being single before I find someone (my ideal person) for marriage.
I was super serious and super committed to worshipping myself. I wanted to fall in love with who I am and the god within. I wanted unshakable confidence and self confidence. I wanted a Christ-like aura.
So I got to work.
I became obsessed with myself (inside and out).
Here’s what I did basically:
I took care of my looks to look like someone I considered breathtaking in my personal opinion. I didn’t go to the gym, just makeup and skincare and dressing the part. I did it for ME, I was the main character now and I wanted to dress the part.
I started walking slowly as if I’m a holy being (again Christ-like aura) while doing my self love affirmations confidently (in my head obviously). Whenever I wasn’t talking or thinking, I was affirming (not like a robot, but more with ease, conviction and enjoyment).
I would meditate on self love and self concept morning and night.
Here’s what happened:
Men started obsessing over me, asking me on dates over and over, they would show up out of the woodworks as they say lol, texting me a little too much. I got so annoyed, but also a bit intrigued by the results lol,that I HAD TO DELETE MY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS AND ARCHIVE ALL MY PICTURES to try and minimize the effects lol. I ghosted a ton of people.
It worked for social media but I still got a lot of attention in real life. I was a rockstar for a while.🤪
This experiment REALLY helped me understand what everyone is YOU pushed out meant.
EIYPO is about YOU not EVERYONE. That’s why owner of this sub always tells you to focus on YOU, to Generate LOVE WITHIN YOU, to be your own SP…
Now something else happened that summer. Even though I was so serious about staying single for a year (lasted 4 months only lol). I was like FINE IF ALL THESE MEN ARE SHOWING UP MAYBE I SHOULD WRITE A LIST OF ALL THE QUALITIES I WANT IN MY FUTURE HUSBAND.
Well guess who I met the very next day ☺️. You guessed it. I met the guy from my list. At first I didn’t care at all because he was just another guy that I didn’t want to date. But after a few conversations he convinced me to go on a date and I fell IN LOVE ON OUR VERY FIRST DATE (him too, we became inseparable instantly)
Now so you guys don’t think I’m a liar or anything, we did break up recently:/ I’m not sad but I have to admit to all of you that I was so in love that I went back to my old habits of focusing on the other person. I made him my whole world and stopped prioritizing myself 🫡. It’s a human thing we all do I guess. When you find someone to love you, it’s like you give them this huge task suddenly, a task that should be your own.
I didn’t become needy in 3d but I definitely was needy energetically and he started prioritizing his work to the point where we would see each other once every week or so …
This post is 100% real guys no scams here I promise .
I’m writing this post to tell you please please please listen to u/ALLISMIND he’s got it figured out and he’s telling you all the truth. I am living proof of this.
Losing my man is also a big lesson to all of us. Do not forget about your self love and self concept once you’re with someone… of you course you need to love them too, but you MUST keep loving and caring about your inner world. It should be a habit like brushing your teeth or better BREATHING.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be back on my routine of self love and self concept. You can find me reading all is mind’s posts from the very beginning (again lol).
As my boyfriend, I’m not worried about him to be honest. If he comes back that would be great, if not I know something wonderful is waiting for me.
Feel free to ask me anything.
Additions/edits: -I forgot to mention that I would turn heads whenever I went with my aura and beauty. I was kind of like Monica belucci in Malena (I would walk very innocently and silently and yet I was always under the spot light even though I wasn’t trying to (again my goal was extreme self love and confidence/not people’s attention and yet it happened)).
-I don’t dress provocatively (meaning no short shorts or boobs out of clothes that are too tight just for context)
-A funny thing that also started happening is my male colleagues also started developing a crush on me 😅 even though they’ve seen me every day for a year lol (especially Joe who still refers to me as “my wife” lol)
-I Re-started focusing my self love and self concept again a few days ago and I’m already seeing results… men started showing interest and asking me out again as well as getting some attention in public (nothing too extreme yet).

I'll start off by saying I don't want to sit here and write a post of another failed set of parents, but, alas, I have nobody else I can speak to about this that would really understand. I've found therapists do be rather unhelpful and I truly have trust issues with people. I've kept a lot of this inside for my life and at this point I think I just need to somehow let it out instead of punching holes in walls or screaming in anger randomly. Maybe writing it here would help me sleep a full night or be a little happier in life?
Either way, I would genuinely appreciate hearing your take on this for those who have experienced a similar past. I'm not looking for sympathy, but a possible path that I can take in getting rid of this hate I have inside of me for good.
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By the age of 13 I had already been living with different friends for months and months with no idea where or what my mother was doing. I went to school but only when I wanted to, otherwise I would wander around and skateboard on the streets until it was time to go 'home'. She would randomly show up in her beat up 80s Honda accord with everything she owned in the backseat to see me once in a BLUE moon. Never once did she speak with my friends parents or caretakers about me, just assumed I would worm my way into another family and their life and become another mouth to feed with no explanation. As a kid you don't really see it from an adults perspective, but as an adult you know there's a failed adult behind this child in your home.
I knew the situation wasn't ideal, but I was living with my best friend at the time for a while as a kid. Every night was video games with your best bud, how bad can life be?
My mother was 17 when she had me, and 16 when she had my brother both with the same guy. I never knew my brother, he was given away because either she was too young or she didn't want him. I spoke with him a few times on social media, but nothing more. I don't use any social media so any contact I did have is gone. He didn't know I existed until I had reached out and has never spoken with our blood parents.
Super mommy did it all. Drank whatever and whenever she could, frequently used drugs (even sold them to my friends who were in middle school for a couple of bucks), fist fought anyone that upset her (including men and myself at a certain age) and was always the victim in these scenarios. She hadn't been this way for as long as I knew her, but majority of the time it was. She had a temper like no other and felt like it was "her" superpower. When it reality it's just a weakness that everyone gets to experience firsthand, either verbally or physically depending on the day. "You can fuck with mean, but you can't fuck with crazy!" she'd say, moments before road raging with a stranger at midnight in the middle of nowhere.
When my 'step' father (the man who raised me most of my life and I love with everything I have) had heard of my situation living abroad, he didn't hesitate to pick me up and take me to a better place in an entirely different part of the country. He and my mother didn't see eye to eye on much after I was about 4 years old, but he always stuck around in the same town we lived in to be around me. Eventually he went back to his hometown when she severed communication between he and I. Only through the grapevine did he hear about me and what I was doing. A few days later he had driven across the US day and night to pick me up, give that family money, thanked them and took me away.
The last time I spoke with my mother was when she took me out for some new shoes for my 14th birthday making promises left and right, while again sitting in her car with everything she had in the backseat. It was just another day with this human who couldn't help but do drugs and lie to me. I already knew I wouldn't be here in a few days and when she came back to see me, I was gone.
I lived in this new home and it actually felt like one with my Dad (step dad but he was my DAD). A few years of having a HOME was surreal and I think I took it for granted, because that too came to an end. I was just starting college and that's when parent #2 came into my life.
Meet Bio-dad! He was once only a few blurry pictures from many years past and tales from my shaman mother. Naturally I was always curious about him, and one day we were in contact with one another. Somehow he managed to find me, even though he had been paying child support for most of my life. He flew out to meet me, and a few months later I somehow decided moving across the country to live with him was a swell idea.
I thought this might have been it, finally, the blood I thought I always wanted in my life. But just a few months in I realized he was no better than her. He was successful and worked hard, but that doesn't mean he's a good person let alone a father. I never called him Dad or Father purely because I was a young adult now and didn't need another figure like that in my life, let alone from someone I barely knew. He was on marriage 2 or 3 with step kids and I just felt like I was 13 years old again in another strange house. I was told he spent a long time trying to find me when he was paying child support but was never able to. I believed him at first, and sometime later many divorced fathers told me that probably isn't be true.
It felt like he was constantly angry or upset at something. His wife, the kids, the dogs, the pool, whatever he was annoyed with everyone else was obligated to agree or veer away. He often found ways to make himself out to be the hardest worker and nothing matters but how many hours you clock in your worksheet. He "wished he could work 40 hours a week". After a few months of everyone arguing, yelling and finger pointing over little nothings each day, I decided I didn't need this kind of stress in my life and left to live in my small truck for a few weeks until I found a room to rent on my own and start my adult life.
Over the years he's tried to stay in contact with me but I never really gave much back to him if at all. I have no interest in knowing him, but his insistent attempts to contact me with 'family is important' yada yada makes my blood boil. I have no blood family as far as I care to know. I'm on the latter half of this life and I simply don't see the point in trying to establish these relationships because we have the same grandparents or blood. Why would I EVER try to put myself into that situation again? For family? Something I really don't value or care about?
The last couple of years I went from never thinking about these humans to frequently finding myself shaking from anger and distracted in life from what I want to actually do and accomplish. I feel like I'm stuck on this chapter and I really, really need to move on from it. I thought just ignoring it would work, but alas as time goes on I get random phone calls and texts from people I used to know trying to get in contact with me. I know who they are, and I know who they're speaking for, but I don't ever give them the satisfaction of even responding.
So here I am, wondering what I should do. Do I call both of them (keep in mind I don't think they've spoken since the early 90s) and let each person individually know that I'd rather watch them suffer in life than to spend time with them? I don't even want them to know where I am, what I'm doing or what I sound like. Do I write them an email, pray they know what that even is and hope they understand I don't care for them?
I considered getting hypnotized so I can fully forget them. As ridiculous as that sounds I often wonder if I could completely remove them from my memory, would I be a better person? Would I finally feel this tension in my chest leave? Would I stop screaming internally when I'm alone out of anger towards them?
At this point in my life I just want to be happy with what I have and leave them in an old time capsule never to be opened again. As I get older the more I understand that childhood tremendously dictates who we are, and I'm learning that I don't really like who I am in some aspects, and I blame them for that. Whatever good and success I have in life is because of my 'step' Dad and how he raised me the best he could.
I don't know that I could be calm or mature enough to clearly state how I feel without emotions coming into the mix. Every time I imagine talking to them it quickly turns into a rage that takes a while to let go of.
If you read my rant, thank you. If you didn't, I don't blame you one bit.
tl;dr I need to completely remove my parents from my life so I can move on, and I'm not sure how to go about it.
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