In the heart of Chicago, where the skyline pierced the heavens and the streets pulsed with life, there lived a man named Victor Kane. At 26 years old and a startling 6'3" in stature, Victor commanded attention effortlessly. His piercing gaze seemed to see through the very fabric of one's soul, and his knowing, flirtatious smirk hinted at secrets that few could ever fathom. Victor was a man of many faces, each one carefully crafted and expertly worn to blend into any situation, like a chameleon adapting to its surroundings. Each interaction with another human was as if it were another painting to be hung in the Art Institute of Chicago, a masterpiece of social maneuvering and charm.
To most, he appeared unremarkable, perhaps even a bit dim, an illusion he maintained with meticulous precision. Yet beneath this facade lay a mind as sharp as a dagger, honed by years of strategic thinking, manipulation, and the art of emotional deceit. Victor had learned from the best. His father, a man deeply entrenched in the shadowy world of organized crime, had mastered the art of bending reality to his will. A master chess player, he treated people like pieces on a grand chessboard, moving them at his whim, always six steps ahead. Victor had absorbed these lessons like a sponge, his young mind eagerly soaking up every tactic, every subtle nuance of control.
Battles with his father have left their scars, trailing off Victor like a snake's entrails as they slither through crowded streets, scanning for their next meal. They probe the aura of each passerby, tasting their energy, yet to their disappointment, they find no juicy, dirt-filled sponge of pain and suffering. They taste desires, yet nothing hits just right. Empty husks, devoid of the essence they crave. Living memories enshroud him in a cloud of black smoke, a spectral fog visible only to a witch. A demon, masquerading as a homeless man and muttering incoherent whispers, feels the snake's embrace tighten around him. He halts abruptly, turning to Victor with a knowing gaze. 'I see you,' he murmurs, 'Such discipline and composure may deceive the others, yet it's only a matter of time before they find you.' The homeless man continues his walk, pulling a black suitcase along, his tattered white shirt contrasting sharply with his black suit, and no tie to complete the ensemble.
Victor makes no comment, his mind a labyrinth of dark intentions and calculated moves. He viewed the world as a malleable entity, something he could shape and twist to suit his needs. The streets, the people, the very air he breathed; they were all part of a grand, intricate game where he alone held the key. He had no qualms about using others to achieve his goals, seeing them as mere tools in his grand design. It was a dangerous philosophy, one which required constant vigilance and adaptability. As he moved through the throngs of oblivious souls, he could almost hear the whispers of their deepest fears and hidden sins. The scars trailed behind him, living entities of their own, reaching out hungrily, desperate for a morsel of genuine suffering. Yet the city, with all its noise and chaos, offered little more than hollow echoes and fleeting shadows. Traces of happiness. Lost children in the never ending void of their own desperation. Victor's eyes flickered with a cold, calculating light. He was a master of this urban jungle, a predator in search of worthy prey. The demon’s warning lingered in his mind, yet it only fueled a burning hunger. He thrived in the shadows, where power and control were his for the taking. Each step he took was a step closer to his ultimate end goal, a twisted vision of dominance, only he could see.
In the distance, the city’s lights shimmered like false promises, yet Victor knew better. Beneath the surface, in hidden corners and forgotten alleys, darkness mirrored his own. In this abyss, he felt certain he would find what he sought: the true essence of his own hunger, the raw, unfiltered energy he could devour. Victor thrived on the underestimation of others, reveling when people perceived him as lesser. Such perceptions made his manipulations appear as innocent mistakes, acts of ignorance and oblivion. His favorite targets: those with inflated egos, individuals convinced of their invincibility.
"A person with a big ego is like an orgasm," he often mused, speaking as if to his shadow. "It's just so easy. Their first mistake: telling me we're not equals. Afterward, they reveal all the buttons and levers in their psyche. They hand me their own weapon on a silver platter, asking, 'Victor, please send me to meet Anpu. Please show me the gates of my own demise.' Their insanity begs to be freed from this curse of societal norms. Always the first mistake, then the rest follow." Laughter echoed from the snakes twining around Victor. As he whispered these musings, the words ensnared a group of Venezuelans nearby, inciting them into a frenzy of violence without understanding the spark. Victor watched, casually tossing a silver dollar their way as if to say, "Welcome to the sanctuary," his smirk a shadow under the flickering streetlights. He calls to the boys, 'there now before you boys get into trouble remember this, you're only seeing the lions teeth, yet you haven't seen what triggered it.' They stared at Victor, startled, as he bid them farewell with a two-finger salute from his left temple and continued wandering down the street.
A drone sliced through the air, its camera lens capturing the serpentine twists of the Chicago River below. Victor, watching its flight, was transported to his youth, to days spent cobbling together a demonic owl from discarded household trinkets and an owl decoy. He would pilot this macabre creation through his neighborhood, a spectral puppeteer orchestrating nocturnal ballets which both delighted and unnerved his unsuspecting audience. A sinister grin unfurled across his lips, a shadow's whisper, as memories of those simple machines mingled with the sophisticated arsenal he commanded today. In the digital age, Victor had become a maestro of manipulation, his tools refined yet no less mischievous. Social media platforms were his stage, targeted advertisements and spoofed numbers his actors, each one playing their part in his grand, deceptive symphony. With the deftest touch, he planted seeds of doubt, spun webs of misinformation, transforming allies into adversaries, stitching chaos into the fabric of daily lives with mere whispers masquerading as shouts. His schemes were crafted with such subtlety, woven so seamlessly into the warp and weft of reality, that his victims believed themselves architects of their own undoing.
The crowning jewel of his current machinations was a prototype drone, a whimsical homage to the contraptions of his youth yet imbued with the precision of modern technology. This drone, engineered to navigate from the chilly confines of his refrigerator to the steamy oasis of his rooftop hot tub, was a testament to his technical acumen. Crafted to be mended with mere baubles from any corner hardware store, it stood as a symbol of practical genius, a playful yet potent emblem of his enduring craft.
Victor glimpsed a universe of possibilities within this project, each drone a seed from which new opportunities might bloom. "Perhaps I could craft a model for a dive shop in Australia," he mused. "A sentinel to monitor the slow dance of decay among the coral reefs." Such a gift could forge pathways, perhaps even secure an internship, an opportunity to wield his 417 subclass visa before its flame flickered out. The prospect of traversing Australia's vast landscapes, of weaving his influence through uncharted territories and minds, sparked a thrill within him. Beyond the realm of circuitry and code, Victor possessed a profound mastery over the human psyche. He had the uncanny ability to read individuals, to delve into the murky depths of their insecurities and desires. With the finesse of a sculptor, he could mold a woman’s perception, convincing her of a soul-deep connection, crafting mirages of perfect compatibility. Yet, for all his prowess in the art of deception, Victor adhered to his own strict code. He eschewed physical violence, never staining his hands with assault; his dominion was the mind, his influence woven through the delicate fabric of psychology.
In Chicago's suffocating underbelly, Victor's father regarded him not with paternal concern, rather with venomous animosity. Their relationship was a battleground, devoid of affection or empathy, cloaked threats masquerading as concern. "Victor, if you don't see a psychiatrist, I'm cutting you off," he declared, his voice a cold hiss, a deeper wish for Victor's demise lurking beneath. Victor's laugh, hollow, echoing through the night, a sound devoid of warmth, knew well the true nature of the psychiatrist and the deeper machinations of his father's cruel intentions. His father viewed him not as a son, yet as a nemesis, a presence he wished to erase from existence. Surrounded by the oppressive cityscape, Victor stood alone atop his building, the L line screeching past, the lights below mere distant, watchful eyes. "Tomorrow, I bend reality once more," he whispered into the void, his voice merging with the cold wind sweeping the rooftops.
The relentless pursuit of his father's malice shadowed him into the darkest city corners where shadows moved with intent, whispering of ancient, sinister forces. Here, in the corner of his eyes an oozing of black liquid drenched an alley, a tar monster, a grotesque manifestation of the city’s darkest secrets, its gnarled face and gleaming teeth mirroring the twisted relationship endured. Against a backdrop of a city thrumming with malevolent energy, Victor pondered the fragile line between delusion and reality. "It's only delusional till it works, so is it really delusional?" he mused aloud, his words dissipating into the night where the distinction between madness and genius blurred by darkness.
Retreating from the alley, his figure melded into the shadows, each step deliberate, burdened with the weight of a cursed legacy. He was acutely aware of his dual role, both manipulator and pawn in a grander, more malevolent game, a game orchestrated by forces predating the city itself. Every movement influenced by the sinister energy pervading Chicago, a legacy of corruption and darkness intertwined with his own existence. Victor understood his every action overseen by the ancient entity had taken interest in him, an entity finding delight in his struggle, offering protection at a dreadful cost.
Emerging from the shadows back into the flickering city lights, Victor found no solace in the illumination yet his smile stretched reaching his eyes showing his gleaming razor sharp teeth. These lights did not offer hope only humor; they were beacons of a foreboding reality. He resolved to continue bending reality, wielding the cursed power both protecting, ensnaring him, and pointing out the irony of his situation. Day after day, he would play this dark game, a master of deceit entwined with an ancient force more profound and sinister than any could fathom.
With one final, lingering look at the alley where darkness reigned supreme, Victor Kane laughed, a hollow echo fading as he stepped into the nearby pub. Inside, the warm glow contrasted starkly with the night's chilling embrace, yet the shadows seemed merely to lurk at the edges, waiting. At their usual spot by the worn bar, he found Billy Smith, his old high school Basketball teammate, with two pints of beer ready. They clinked glasses, the sound slicing through the hum of conversations around them. "To the unexpected," Victor intoned, his voice laced with a hint of irony. As they settled into the rhythm of their catch-up, the conversation inevitably turned toward the unfolding news, the war in Ukraine, an event that had caught the world off guard.
"No one ever saw it coming," Billy remarked, his tone a mix of wonder and concern.
Victor's eyes flickered with a dark amusement, and raising his glass again, he offered a toast, this time in Latin, a language that carried the weight of history and secrets. "Ad profundis malorum," he declared, which translated to 'To the depths of evils.'
Billy paused, the words hanging between them like a veil being slowly drawn back to reveal a hidden scene. The toast was enigmatic, resonant with Victor’s acknowledgment of the chaos brewing both near and far, a chaos that, perhaps, only he could navigate.
As the night deepened within the grimy confines of the pub, where every corner whispered of misdeeds and the air hung heavy with the scent of stale beer and lost hopes, the laughter and chatter provided a deceptive cover for the profound game silently playing in Victor’s mind. His cryptic toast, "Ad profundis malorum," echoed a darker undertone amidst the jovial noise.
Across the bar, a woman with long jet black hair and piercing grey eyes watched Victor. Clad in a striking red full-grain leather trench coat, her presence was undeniably conspicuous, yet paradoxically, she remained unnoticed. Despite her short stature, she was fit, her features sharply defined, an attractiveness seemingly almost otherworldly amidst the grime of the pub. Curiously, not even the barkeep spared her a glance, as if she existed in a separate realm, visible only to those she chose to confront. As Billy excitedly shared his plans to open a dive shop with a taco bar on the roof, the woman’s lips moved in a whisper, her voice a soft, clear bell in the din, carrying a dire warning. "I know what you are. We found you." At that moment, a flashback surged through Victor’s mind, a haunting image of a colonial girl he once saw in the Fraser Experimental Forest. His girlfriend at the time had turned to him, her voice tinged with unease. "Victor, do you see what I see? The girl? Yeah, the girl. I can feel something following us. As if it knows what we are yet won't approach, yet I can feel it." This vivid recollection now seemed a prelude to the current moment, a chilling reminder the forces he had glimpsed back then were the same now declaring their presence.
The evening wound down with plans made and stories shared, yet the woman’s prophetic words and the ghostly memory of the girl hung unseen in the air, portending looming confrontations between the light she embodied and the shadow following Victor Kane. As the patrons began to drift away, the shadows reclaiming their territory within the pub, the mysterious woman’s figure faded into the background, her message delivered, her purpose yet unclear but undoubtedly intertwined with Victor’s fate.
The end.

YouTube: “LET THEM - JUST LET THEM” Looking at Life with Dee
This video and poem has truly helped me begin to feel at peace with the fact that I truly have no control and there’s nothing I can do but let them walk out of my life.
If you are hurting and feeling confused because someone has decided they are better off without you, please watch this.
Let them live with the decisions they have made.
Let them live with the memories of you.
Let them live with the invasive “what if”’s when they begin to feel regret.
Let them leave, knowing that you WILL be okay.
Just let them.

Hey everyone! Random Appalachian here. I just wanted to check back in with you all and provide some updates, as well as some exciting, if personal, news. I have to type this quick, as my work break ends soon, so pardon any typos, grammatical errors, or weirdly structured sentences.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m a park ranger in real life, and work at a wildlife reserve in Ohio. We’ve been having some issues with vandalism in our northern woods for a few months, and despite our best attempts, haven’t been able to find the culprit. It’s been immensely frustrating, especially when more paint has shown up on more trails, ranging from slashes, lines, and crosses, to dots and even letters. Normally we wouldn’t get too bent out of shape over a few trees being painted, but it’s well over 60 at this point, and widespread throughout the forest. None of the official people who help us maintain the trails in that area say they are responsible, and yet many of the markings seem to be blazes for trails. However the markings are at times absurdly close together, or in abstract places that make no logical sense. One “trail” is no more than perhaps 30 yards long and runs right along a massive clearing in a semi-circle, within plain sight of the clearing, and goes to nowhere; it goes into the woods, and pops back out into the clearing only 30-ish yards away. Most of our established trails that have been painted already have well-made trail markings of our own, and the trails are well-blazed. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to why these things are there at all. I don’t think it’s anything sinister, though the painter has left his/her paint cans in the woods before, so at the very least, they’re a litterbug. There is the concern about potential poaching, which can be a problem in our area. Sure, deer and turkey are commonplace in my rural community, but they are only that way because of conservation and game laws that keep populations intact. Local hunters play a big part in conservation, and if someone starts taking more than their fair share through poaching, that means less for everyone else, and upsets the balance of things. The sad thing is, unlike legal hunters who often hunt for meat for their families, (food is expensive nowadays) poachers usually do it for trophies, antlers, or ‘fans’ from the turkey tail-feathers. But our painter has yet to take any game to our knowledge. We’ve found no gut piles, blood, or discarded gear anywhere. So, if he’s not poaching . . . what on earth does he want?
Then a few weeks ago, we did find a camera inside our central perimeter.
To put this into perspective, we have roughly 10,000 acres to our little reserve. Only 1/3 is fenced in, containing our exotic animals for our tours, and our buildings that we use to operate. Offices, mechanical garages, barns, and storage sheds, that sort of thing. Usually if we have trespassing issues, it's in the northern woods, which is open to the public for walking/biking trails. Sometimes in the southern prairie reserve we get some wanderers, but it's pretty open, so people tend to shy away from it. But our interior, the central area, most of which is fenced in, is sacred ground for us. We have a children’s camp in there for kids to learn about nature, we have our animal barns, and even some staff housing. For people to walk around in there would be like a stranger walking through your bedroom at night, while you’re in the shower.
Not cool. Not cool at all.
One of our ecology survey teams found the camera in a lesser-used section a mile or so north of the children’s camp. Naturally, they assumed it was one of ours, until one of the staff innocently asked another ranger why we’d put a camera by that lake. When the ranger told her that we didn’t have any cameras there, it began to sink in.
We either have two trespassers, or the painter has decided to move his game further into our land.
I’m hoping it’s the former, that I’m overthinking things, but after all, the mystery painter had to have seen a few of the trail cameras we put up in the north to catch him. Could he be doing this as a form of tit-for-tat? I don’t know, but it’s got us rangers frustrated, and our ecology team is spooked. It was fun and games in the unpopulated north, but now he’s getting close to our people, our guests, and our animals. This is serious now. We removed the camera, but there’s not really much we can do without more patrols, more cameras, and more rangers. With our budget already restricted, the last part just isn’t possible.
My foray into trail cameras yielded no results as to a culprit. In fact, the day I came in early to pull them out of the field, it seemed nothing went right. Only two came off the tree, as I forgot the keys for the locks for the other two. I couldn’t find the last one at first, and darkness fell before I could locate it, so that I was wandering around in the northern district in the blackness searching for it. Inadvertently this helped me find the camera in the end; I saw the red light flash as it took my picture and was able to retrieve the SD card. It was in my long return trek to the patrol truck that I discovered the marks on a remote trail I hadn’t walked yet. A capital O and a capital N were scrawled in various places, with dots over the letters. I took German in university, so I know they aren’t grammatical marks from that language, known as umlauts (pronounced as “oomlout” for my fellow English speakers; for all my German speakers, if I spelled that wrong, I apologize). I’d left my phone in the truck (stupid rookie move for a seasoned ranger, I know) so I couldn’t take any photos, and didn’t want to follow the trail too far in the pitch dark. I had a flashlight with spare batteries, as well as my gun (I’m not a complete moron after all) but I didn’t have time to do much exploring, since I had other duties in the park that were waiting on me. I had some VIP’s that were coming in late, and had to be escorted, which meant I had to clamber back to my truck, swatting at mosquitos the whole way. Nothing on the cameras showed any definitive proof, though we might have a lead on a guy with a bow case on his back. Could be nothing though; it’s not illegal to wear camo or carry things, and it could very well have been a camera case, a backpack, or an empty bow case.
In any event, we rangers are working on a strategy for changing up our patrol routes and putting more cameras in the field, as well as checking in on the children’s camp frequently throughout the night. So far, this mystery person hasn’t actually hurt anything that we know of, but even if this is just local kids having a prank, it’s not funny anymore.
Anyway, on to the other news. For the aforementioned reasons, as well as others, I’ve been super swamped this past month, and so writing on the third book in the Barron County trilogy has been slow. I wanted to release it at the beginning of June, but at this rate, I’m going to have to push that back to late June, possibly early July. I hate to think I’ve disappointed you all, but it’s just not ready yet. That, and I’ve been busy with something else . . . something big.
I’m getting married next week.
It’s been a long time coming, but my fiancé and I are super excited. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and have been best friends since forever. We’ve both been running like chickens with our heads cut off to get everything ready, and naturally, we’re both exhausted/somewhat nervous. Our honeymoon will require some flying, and since my fiancé has never been on a plane before, that’s a point of nervousness for her. I’m sure she’ll be fine once we’re in the air, but until then, she’s a bundle of nerves.
All that is to say, I am working on the story, it’s just taking a bit. I cannot wait to get back into the swing of things for all of you and thank you again for your supreme patience in this. You guys and gals are great, and entertaining you all is a massive privilege. Stay tuned for the third installment of the Barron County trilogy, and the epic conclusion of Hannah Brun’s journey into the unknown! Until next time.

A few years ago during that time when I was in high school, me and my ex friend went to different schools, I wanted to go to the same school as her but I couldn't since it was too far.
I told her that I couldn't go to the same school but she told me she was glad I didn't go to the same place as her because if I did, me and her wouldn't be friends at all.
You know the reason why she said that? She said if I went there, other people would take me away from her and that she would hate me which I found that stupid. Fast forward a few years later I had a boyfriend during college (he's now an ex) When I went out to town with my family, she called to me crying (while I was in a resturant) because apparently I've been ghosting her and ignoring her saying I've been too busy to even talk.
During this time I was struggling with my mental health, my relationship and college, She would start arguments with me saying I don't have time for her, not texting back saying I'm drifting away from her. Not to mention she wrote a poem about me(I have the poem on my phone) , I didn't know what to say and she asked you're not mad I wrote a poem about you? You won't sue me right?
And I was like it's fine but in my head it wasn't fine. She would make it about herself, I listened to her constantly complaining and she would trauma dump the past. She brought up the fact I didn't turn up to choir practice while I was getting bullied.
She blamed me for that not the girl who bullied me, not to mention she and the bully were friends on Facebook, the girl who bullied me would talk trash about me to her and she would tell me the horrible things the bully said about me, I was so hurt and betrayed yet I still kept her as a friend.
2 years go by and this was before Covid hit, the day she arrived I took her to my dance practice so she could watch before my day. She complained saying that she's tired, didn't take her meds, telling me she wasted her money to come visit me. I was embarrassed when she was having a tantrum infront of everyone that I had to take her somewhere else.
It felt like a burning iron everytime she complained I was flustered and I felt tired just by listening to her. On the evening the day before my birthday party, there was no food at the house since my mother was busy preparing for my debut. She hasnt eaten food or taken her meds but blamed me again, so we both had to walk to mcdonalds in the evening around 8pm just for her to eat.
The day of my birthday party, everything was going well, I introduced her to my college friends and others but after the party we went back to our rooms getting ready for bed, she asked me why didn't you introduce me to those boys? Why didn't you spend time with me? I didn't know what to say anymore because I was tired genuinely that we didn't talk until morning.
Then after a few days I haven't heard from her, She was talking to one of my guy friends but the thing is she would only talk to me if she had problems with him and would come crying in call and texting me about it. I have been reassuring her every time she had problems with my guy friend and it was tiring, he even mentioned to me she was controlling and bossy and he was right .
I never complained about anything between me and her but she wanted to make problems that I didn't talk to her or wasn't talking to her enough, I gave her space and I gave myself space but she still complained why I didn't message her but I did several times but in other days I wouldn't talk to her because I was scared.
I never talked about my mental problems and my trauma with my SA past to her because she'll make me feel worse and trauma dump and mention the past about me leaving her repeatedly when I was bullied by the same girl she was friends with.
I wanted to cut ties with her but I was afraid that she will get mad at me because she had issues with her behaviour for always getting angry and shouting at me when we get into an argument in call and would blame me.
But I was genuinely afraid at the same time losing my only friend because I had no one else to talk to. After a month or two I was messaging her and she brought up the vaccine topic, during that time she was a student nurse and I didn't really want to talk about it but she insisted telling me I should take the vaccine. If I didn't take it apparently I would affect her "family, friends and patients" but what about me? What am I to her? Me and her live in different cities 1 hr away from each other, so how can I affect them if I live so far away? That doesn't make sense.
She told me If I didn't take it she told me people would think I'm a dirty pest and a scumbag.
I was so done, honestly so done after she posted our private conversation on her private story but apparently she deleted it afterwards just for me to see? Not sure if I believe that. I blocked her on every social media and after that I felt better, the heavy burden I held for so long was gone. I was happier without her.
I never even got birthday gifts from her even when I gave hers every year so I stopped gifting her. I wasted 9 years of friendship and stopped trusting people after that.

I, (24F) want to leave my boyfriend (26M) but I don’t know how to go about it. What can I do to get out of this mess?
I met my boyfriend H when we were 18 and 19 respectively. We met in highschool officially but never really interacted until after graduation. A mutual friend of mine dated H before but they had a really bad breakup, and when I started dating H, I lost several friends over that. Things were great for a few years minus the few common early adult relationship problems (who pays for what, etc) and lack of responses while gaming. That sort of thing. We moved in together two years ago in his parent’s home, of which we stayed in a basement room that had a door to the outside and paid rent and helped with groceries and that sort of thing. In January of 2023, his father passed away. Prior to this, he was a waiter at a BBQ place in our town. After his father passed away, he never returned from his bereavement leave and subsequently lost his job due to lack of contact with the boss. Since then, he has had maybe two jobs that lasted about two weeks before he would quit again. I have to get into huge fights with him before he will do anything around the apartment we now rent with our dog. He spends all his time on his Xbox and on Discord or sleeping. He doesn’t complement me, he doesn’t offer to help me with anything, and he refuses to leave the house to do anything with or for me. Yes, he has been in therapy since his father passed, but currently it’s doing nothing and any talk of switching therapists falls on deaf ears. We’re constantly fighting about housework, he’ll cry and talk about suicide, and then he’ll feel so bad about the fight he’ll do ONE chore before repeating the process. I’ve tried making him lists, I’ve tried reminding him several times while I’m at work, I’ve even tried setting timers and reminders on our Alexa. He just blatantly will not do anything. The straw that’s been breaking us lately is he stopped showering on a regular basis. He went over a month without showering and two weeks ago I got so fed up I shut off the internet so he couldn’t play Xbox to FINALLY convince him to shower. I thought driving him to his therapy appointments and things like that would help at the beginning and I do know he has some mental health concerns but good god, it’s not working.
About a month or two ago, a coworker of mine started texting me on WhatsApp, which he found me in a work group chat I’m in (I work fast food, not naming names, but it rhymes with Starby’s) and we hit it off. Previously, I would open with him (I’ll call him T) and we would just crack jokes and goof around (while doing our jobs, of course). In the work group chat I had said “Ughh, my face is breaking out. I don’t want to be at window, they’ll drive away from my ugly ass.” And he sent me a text telling me I’m not ugly, I said how, and he told me I’m not too overweight, I’m not too skinny, I have beautiful eyes, and a beautiful smile. After this, we started conversing back and forth but not crossing the risky or flirty territory. One morning during an opening shift, he told me he liked someone and I pressed because I’m nosy. And he eventually said it was me, but didn’t want to cross a line or do anything because I have a boyfriend. This isn’t why I started the breakup plan, but knowing that someone else saw something in me and I wouldn’t be alone 100% after gave me that push I needed. Though I will admit, he is wayyy out of my league and has a smile that makes me want to cry.
About three weeks ago I was hanging out with some friends and my boyfriend got mad, said he was going to text his ex, and I lost it and broke it off with him. Afterwards, he kept saying he was going to go meet his dad and stopped responding. I got a notification (life 360) that he left the apartment so I went over to grab some stuff and I found a note that said I can have all his stuff. I called non emergency and let them know of the situation because my boyfriend has bipolar (T1) and could injure himself. He wasn’t injured at all, which is what the hospital told me, and he refused any further treatment for psychiatric. I ended up going back because his mother started texting me saying my boyfriend ended up telling her that he was going to run away and not come back, and I was scared and worried. I’m an idiot, I know. He was crying and promised he’d do better and how he was going to fix it, but truthfully, I was just tired after dealing with that for 48 hours and wanted a shower and my bed. Now, I want to leave again but not have him pull all of that because I am so far mentally exhausted. I need advice. Help!
TL;DR My boyfriend doesn’t work or clean or shower and I want to kick him out and leave him but I don’t want him to harm himself.

Poem by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore (photo of text)
English Translation by David Paley (Another translation to explore is by Louis Simpson)
Les séparés The Separated Apart
Do not write. I am sad and would like to fade away. The fine summers without you are nights without light. I have folded my arms unable to reach you; And to knock at my heart is to beat on my grave. Do not write!
Do not write. Let us learn only to die in ourselves. Ask only of God… of yourself, whether I loved you! In the depths of your absence, to hear that you love me Is to be hearing from heaven without ever ascending. Do not write!
Do not write. I am fearful of you and afraid of my memory That has kept your voice and calls to me often; Do not show me the water that cannot be drunk For your cherished writing brings your portrait alive. Do not write!
Do not write those sweet words that I dare not read any more: It seems that your voice spreads them over my heart; And, as I see them through the glow of your smile; It seems they are stamped with a kiss on my heart. Do not write!
https://preview.redd.it/nfboc8l2rb1d1.jpg?width=700&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6281eaa6bb17dae221fecc3aefeae5db72386ed3

Oh EEP… OH EEP The way you make me peep Even during my sleep Oh EEP, you made me weep
But do not be in fury For I am not your average girly I am in fact geeky This is making me feel very eepy
But EEP I’m not just one of your hoes It is not just anything goes For I have expectations That people shall say congratulations
Oh on the day of our wedding Or perhaps the day of our beheading Everybody shall be defenestrating The view shall be quite breathtaking
And EEP it surely has been a ride It is only within you I can confide My deepest darkest secrets My most sinister lies
For EEP you make me very gay But not in that type of way… EEP you make me very happy Oh EEP, come to papi
Oh EEP, daddy is home That is why I have written this ode To inform EEP the end of my adjournment All of that in a poem
Though summer is now upon us Let it not be sus like among us Let us stay together forever Like a married couple in the Bahamas
This poem would be quite hard to keep to rhythm If not for the fact I have autism Oh EEP may you impose your wisdom All over my system

Hi, I'm not a native english speaker. I'm having a problem of understanding the grammar of the third line of the poem:
When I too long have looked upon your face, Wherein for me a brightness unobscured Save by the mists of brightness has its place, And terrible beauty not to be endured,
What does "save by" mean here? Is it used as save as in saving something, or save as preposition, so "but" or "without"? I'm just confused by the structure of it.

Has anyone else experience slight pain in their upper stomachs about 6 weeks out, just near their top incision?? It’s not constant, and there doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to the cause. I can eat and drink without the irritation, but sometimes I take a breath and the exhale hurts. Or I’ll sit a certain way and there it goes. I’m wondering if it’s just scar tissue or a dissolving stitch. I have a call into my nurse, but I’m assuming if it’s not an emergency, I won’t get a call back until the am.

影動者 (Kage Dōsha) Technique Skill Overview: The Kage Dōsha Technique is designed to render a person effectively invisible by exploiting natural blind spots and using another individual’s presence to mask their own. This involves moving silently, synchronizing with the target’s movements, and maintaining optimal positioning to remain unnoticed.
Core Principles Blind Spot Exploitation: Positioning oneself behind the target, slightly to the side to stay in their natural blind spot. Shadowing Movements: Matching the target’s pace and movements to blend in seamlessly. Environmental Awareness: Utilizing the surroundings to enhance concealment.
Step-by-Step Guide:

1. Preparation and Mindset: Mental Focus: Stay calm and focused. Anxiety and rushed movements can draw attention. Clothing: Wear neutral, non-reflective clothing that blends into the environment.
2. Positioning: Behind the Ear, Not Past the Shoulder: Always position yourself slightly behind the target’s shoulder line, around ear level. This keeps you in their blind spot. Distance Maintenance: Stay close enough to use their body as cover but not so close that you invade their personal space and risk detection. Aim for about 1-2 feet behind.
3. Movement Synchronization: Match Footsteps: Synchronize your steps with the target’s to blend the sound of your footsteps with theirs. This involves observing their walking rhythm and mimicking it. Mirror Movements: When the target turns or changes direction, smoothly mirror their movements without hesitation. Practice fluid transitions to avoid jerky motions.
4. Environmental Interaction: Use Cover: Utilize walls, furniture, and other objects as additional cover. Move from one cover point to another, staying behind the target. Light and Shadow: Stay in shadows and avoid well-lit areas. Use the target’s shadow to further obscure your presence.
5. Silence and Stealth: Soft Footwear: Wear shoes that minimize noise. Step toe-to-heel to reduce the sound of your footsteps. Sound Awareness: Be mindful of environmental sounds. Move during louder ambient noises to mask any accidental sounds you make.

Practice:
Synchronization Drill: Practice walking behind someone without them noticing, starting with a friend who is aware of the exercise. Gradually reduce the distance. Environmental Blending: Conduct exercises in different environments, such as crowded streets, quiet libraries, and varied lighting conditions. Reaction Timing: Work on your reaction times to the target’s sudden movements and stops. This can be practiced with a partner who deliberately changes pace and direction.
Once you've mastered such basics, move onto these more advanced options.

1. Multiple Targets: Dynamic Positioning: When following a group, adjust your position to stay behind the individual with the best cover. Group Synchronization: Learn to synchronize with the dominant movement patterns of the group.
2. Evasion and Escape: Quick Concealment: Practice quickly blending into surroundings or hiding behind objects if the target suddenly turns around. Distraction Use: Create minor distractions (like a dropped object) to divert attention temporarily if you need to adjust your position.

Now, here on out it gets real.
影幻術 (Kage Genjutsu) Technique:This technique not only makes you hard to see but also actively confuses and misdirects those around you.

1. Core Principles: Physical Stealth: Mastery of movement and positioning to stay out of sight. Psychological Manipulation: Techniques to create doubt and misperception in the minds of observers. Environmental Illusion: Using the environment creatively to create visual and auditory distractions.Mental Discipline: Cultivate a calm and focused mind. Practice mindfulness to reduce anxiety and enhance situational awareness
2. Physical Stealth: Dynamic Positioning: Constantly adjust your position relative to moving objects or people to stay in their blind spots. Use the "Behind the Ear, Not Past the Shoulder" principle as a starting point. Silent Movement: Develop a soft, toe-to-heel walking technique. Practice on various surfaces to minimize noise.
3. Psychological Manipulation: Visual Misdirection: Use small, subtle movements in your peripheral environment to draw attention away from your true position. For example, throw a small object to one side while moving in the opposite direction. Auditory Deception: Create misleading sounds to divert attention. Carry small noise-making devices (like clickers) that can be activated remotely to create distractions.4. Environmental Illusion Shadow Integration: Learn to move within the natural patterns of light and shadow. Practice in different lighting conditions to understand how shadows can conceal or reveal your presence.

Mastering the Kage Dōsha Technique will make you become one with the breeze and the shadow behind ones back. Enjoy this short guide I made

Echoing misconceptions
Twisted fibers in the fabric of time
Given us no purpose
Not a reason, rhythm, or even a rhyme
Destructive education
Continuation of outdated misleading lies
Concepts without reason
Freedom from immortal sin is denied
Deceitful manipulation
Tongues removed with jagged swords
Speech is forgotten
Annihilation of the earth is what life's headed towards
Societal destruction
Pretentious ignorance invades the hearts of men
Forgotten all their honor
To believe in humanity can't be nothing but pretend
Eternal bitter silence
Racing through the maze to win an endless game
Here's my resignation
To remain in this race would prove insane.
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/s/aiIfOogkBd
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/s/Ur9sqHvH0R

So, I was doing a simulated patient exercise, and my guy was a 70-year-old male who called because "I'm not feeling well." I put him on the monitor and saw an irregular rhythm on the Lifepac. I classified it as Sinus with PACs and PVCs. (It was a 2nd-degree type 1 heart block with PVCs). SPO2 is 92, so I put him on O2 NC 4L and did a thorough assessment. I didn't print a longer strip even though I had to stare at it for a little while; I was subject to the effects of a 3-second lifepack screen. For some reason, 12 leads are not available in the simulation.
Nothing impressive comes up on the assessment. Neuro intact, vitals are great for a 70-year-old, and he admits to a hx of diabetes controlled without medication. So I'm getting ready to transport and decide that since he is older, he has an observed cardiac pathology that got better with oxygen (I did not explicitly recognize this improvement with O2 in the sim). I gave him ASA 324mg PO for new-onset arrhythmia, Started an IV TKO, and up the O2 to 10 L NRB and transport.
In the debrief, I was drawn and quartered for the Aspirin decision. " It's not in that protocol; you're not a doctor!"
EMS providers of the internet, a new onset AV 2nd Degree type 1 can set in for toxicology (no meds, denies drugs and ETOH), cardiac pathology, and, especially in young people, high vagal tone (see toxicology). Although it is not as indicative of cardiac damage as Type 2, a new onset Wenkebok doesn't show up just because. There can be meds/toxins or cardiac ischemia/infarct/vessel disease. ASA is indicated or at least not contraindicated if it's vessel disease. (I told you I was eviscerated)
My takeaways:
If I can't identify the rhythm at a glance (I thought I had it right, so I didn't print a strip), I print a longer strip and read it like I usually do. I wear glasses for a reason.
I didn't try to justify ACS, given an elderly diabetic, that could be possible silent chest pain.
He didn't have a hx of bleeding or anything like that. I don't remember if I specifically asked him if he had taken Aspirin in the last 24 hours; he said he didn't take meds.
So I've been ruminating about this for a day and just need to get it off my chest and get some feedback. I'm okay with being wrong,g but I'm salty about being yelled at. I'd at least like to learn something for all my troubles.

I used to write about my mental health. I used to let the gravity of it guide me everywhere. And now Im stable.
What is stable?
Is it the silence from the constant screams?
Is it the beauty I can now see? Is it the time Im finally present for? Is it just the feeling to breathe?
Quietly. Without the constant interruption of shame Spiraling Me down back into my voluntary cage Rapidly Making me question my own sanity Until Finally I let it go with therapy
And medication Both required for this sickness that inflicts My brain The poor thing that struggles violently To keep my body from further shouting out From the pain From this pain
The mental anguish that tries to corrupt my soul Into delving deeper into nefarious goals To gather that which will only gives me pleasure For a little while.
Bliss that lies.
And oh does it lie You right down into cascading waters As you drift away from all you held dear And you wont even care or bother
All is well at the bottom of the bottle.
Until its not.
Silence.
Now its only silence. No longer will I chase that bliss Because it doesnt exist And never has.
Instead Ill wander towards the ink of a pen And write down my survival From my medicated mind To my former sickened self Hoping she hears me when I say itll all be fine In time
And with the time spinning faster Ill finish this poem in fashion Get help if your mind is lying And never taking it lying Down Fight until you have no voice And then fight harder still Because we all certainly deserve To advocate for ourselves.

A few days ago I posted some ideas for achievements for the full release. Here are some more, focusing on odder tasks and accomplishments. Hidden achievements are marked with an *
D.I.Y.- craft one of every item in the workshop
Chemist- craft one of every item in the chemistry lab
How To Make Friends: befriend a student without completing a task for them
The Summoning*: enter the demon realm
Spirit Medium*: successfully summon a demon
Run To The Hills*: kill a student using the iron maiden
Bad B!tch: join the delinquents
Rock Star: beat the light music club rhythm game
Episode Zero\*: get an S+ score in 1980's mode
Paradox*: successfully confess your love to Joukichi in 1980's mode
Go-Home Club: beat the game without ever joining a club (including bullies, delinquents and student council)
Club Hopper*: spend one week in each club (excluding bullies, delinquents and student council)
Asocial Behavior*: beat the game without speaking to any students
Unbeatable*: beat Budo in the martial arts mini game without getting hit by him
True Yandere*: beat the game using only the knife to eliminate rivals without getting any alerts
Menagerie*: kidnap/betray all the rivals and have all of them alive in the basement at the end of the game
Mind Broken*: kill all the rivals and make Senpai discover all of their bodies
Independent*: never use any of Info-chan's services, including not sending photos of students to her
Adaptable*: kill all rivals with a different weapon
Whoops*: kill Ayano (currently only possible by holding a candle near the sabotaged stove)
Studious: max out all the school-stats (biology, chemistry, language, phys. ed., psychology)
Book Worm: read all the available manga
Diligent Informant: complete all of Info-chan's bounties
That's all I've got right now. Does anyone else have any ideas?

Greetings,
my ladies, my gents, and my gentles....
QUEER POETRY FORUM is a Forum for Sharing Queer Poetry AND the works of Queer Poets.
Please feel free to post the work of yourself and others
All under the LGBTQIA Umbrella Welcome here!
RULES: (To be clarified as necessary)

• Comment Constructively and (respectfully),
• Links to other subreddits or websites should be to specific works, not whole bodies of works (unless requested)
• Poems of all styles are welcome, be it free-verse or traditional or something completely different.
• Hostility towards those who's Identities (OR who's Self-Expression of identities) differ from their own is NOT tolerated!

i.e: No warring between the Letters of our Alphabet Mafia Family...

• It is not required for a poem to be on the topic of LGBTQIA identities specifically. This is a forum for poetry that explores Queer life. And queer life is always also fundamentally Human Life. Bring your humanity and your creativity, and let flow without fearing that a thought or emotion strays
• Looking for experienced mods

The Shimmer, I.
Quietly as a mouse, Ian crept through the hallway of his shared flat. He could see the faint bluish glow reaching out from under the crack under his flat mate's door. "One step to the right, two forward, far left," Ian thought to himself. This was the pathway through the creaky hallway so he would not alert his flat mates to his nightly escapes.
"It’s not that they would care," he deliberated to himself, "but knowing me, I'm definitely not sneaking a girl in here," and Ian didn’t want to have to explain that his nightly trips had nothing to do with booze, girls, or anything his flat mates would really understand.
No. Ian was on his way for the umpteenth time, to the campus apiary.
He had gotten quite good at sneaking through campus without being spotted. A near run-in with campus security on his first trip, and Ian quickly found out that black was the optimal color to wear when sneaking about, and his knees had now grown accustomed to the frequent crouching he would be taxed with, in order to earn his nightly prize.
The apiary was no short trip from his flat. It was situated far from the main campus on the outskirts of the property lines to the east of the lake and in the heart of a small clearing; a gateway to the 120 acres of forest that stood ominous and ancient behind it.
Finally outside, Ian closed the front door without making a sound, slowly allowing the doorknob to reset into the locked position. The warm, late summer air greeted him, tinged with the early crispness of fall. "Perhaps a sweater next time," he said to himself, making a mental note, and off he went along his well trotted path to the guardians of the forest.
The apiary tool shed housed the bee suits and Ian expertly slipped into his, his caution heightened, aware that he now stood out against the dark night, as an eerie white shadow against a canopy of darkness. He took careful steps to ensure he would not disturb any of the other winged residents on his way to the old trees at the edge of the forest, where he first witnessed it - the otherworldly shimmer of the great honeybees.
Noone knew this but Ian, because typically honeybees follow a normal circadian rhythm just like their mammalian counterparts - awake by day and asleep by night. But this hive was different. Ian had sensed it the moment his eyes locked upon it the day the beekeeper introduced his new obsession to him. These bees did not sleep by night. They were just as alive in the pale and quiet moonlight, as they were during the heat and busyness of the day. As he approached, he felt the bees could sense his presence, and to Ian, something extraordinary. As he slowly approached the great hive, he was greeted with a slow, deliberate shimmer, one that seemed to say, "Greetings, friend."
Ian slowly crouched and bowed his head, keeping his eyes locked onto the great hive, which seemed to respond to his gesture. As he gazed upon it, his heartbeat increased, he could feel the blood rushing through his ear as he tried to remain perfectly still, determined to not break his almost motionless position. Then, a new shimmer rippled out from the center of the hive, one that pulsed rapidly outward, as if the hive were becoming more alert. Ian knew that his was the sign he needed - permission. Ian kept himself low and ever so slowly, moved toward the almost inaudible pulse of the buzzing, until he was directly beneath the behemoth branch itself that the great hive loomed from.
Underneath the ancient arms stretched out toward the horizons, Ian places his back against the wide trunk of the great oak tree and slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, allowing the low pulsing to enter his senses, lulling him into a state of calm he had never known before.
"Hello, Ian," said an insect-like voice inside his head.
Stay Tuned - The Shimmer, III.

Quietly as a mouse, Ian crept through the hallway of his shared flat. He could see the faint bluish glow reaching out from under the crack under his flat mate's door. "One step to the right, two forward, far left," Ian thought to himself. This was the pathway through the creaky hallway so he would not alert his flat mates to his nightly escapes.
"It’s not that they would care," he deliberated to himself, "but knowing me, I'm definitely not sneaking a girl in here," and Ian didn’t want to have to explain that his nightly trips had nothing to do with booze, girls, or anything his flat mates would really understand.
No. Ian was on his way for the umpteenth time, to the campus apiary.
He had gotten quite good at sneaking through campus without being spotted. A near run-in with campus security on his first trip, and Ian quickly found out that black was the optimal color to wear when sneaking about, and his knees had now grown accustomed to the frequent crouching he would be taxed with, in order to earn his nightly prize.
The apiary was no short trip from his flat. It was situated far from the main campus on the outskirts of the property lines to the east of the lake and in the heart of a small clearing; a gateway to the 120 acres of forest that stood ominous and ancient behind it.
Finally outside, Ian closed the front door without making a sound, slowly allowing the doorknob to reset into the locked position. The warm, late summer air greeted him, tinged with the early crispness of fall. "Perhaps a sweater next time," he said to himself, making a mental note, and off he went along his well trotted path to the guardians of the forest.
The apiary tool shed housed the bee suits and Ian expertly slipped into his, his caution heightened, aware that he now stood out against the dark night, as an eerie white shadow against a canopy of darkness. He took careful steps to ensure he would not disturb any of the other winged residents on his way to the old trees at the edge of the forest, where he first witnessed it - the otherworldly shimmer of the great honeybees.
Noone knew this but Ian, because typically honeybees follow a normal circadian rhythm just like their mammalian counterparts - awake by day and asleep by night. But this hive was different. Ian had sensed it the moment his eyes locked upon it the day the beekeeper introduced his new obsession to him. These bees did not sleep by night. They were just as alive in the pale and quiet moonlight, as they were during the heat and busyness of the day. As he approached, he felt the bees could sense his presence, and to Ian, something extraordinary. As he slowly approached the great hive, he was greeting with a slow, deliberate shimmer, one that seemed to say, "Greetings, friend."
Ian slowly crouched and bowed his head, keeping his eyes locked onto the great hive, which seemed to respond to his gesture. As he gazed upon it, his heartbeat increased, he could feel the blood rushing through his ear as he tried to remain perfectly still, determined to not break his almost motionless position. Then, a new shimmer rippled out from the center of the hive, one that pulsed rapidly outward, as if the hive were becoming more alert. Ian knew that his was the sign he needed - permission. Ian kept himself low and ever so slowly, moved toward the almost inaudible pulse of the buzzing, until he was directly beneath the behemoth branch itself that the great hive loomed from.
Underneath the ancient arms stretched out toward the horizons, Ian places his back against the wide trunk of the great oak tree and slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, allowing the low pulsing to enter his senses, lulling him into a state of calm he had never known before.
"Hello, Ian," said an insect-like voice inside his head.
Stay Tuned - The Shimmer, III.

Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928-2007) is one of the most influential composers of the 20th century, known for his pioneering work in electronic music, aleatoric processes, and spatial music. His innovative approach has left a lasting impact on contemporary music and sound art. Below is an in-depth analysis of his music, focusing on harmonic texture, popular forms, and his contributions to the music industry.

Harmonic Texture

Stockhausen's approach to harmony evolved throughout his career, reflecting his explorations in various musical dimensions:

1. Serialism: In his early works, Stockhausen embraced serialism, a technique involving the use of series of pitches, rhythms, dynamics, timbres, or other musical elements. Notable works include "Kontra-Punkte" (1952-53), which uses pointillistic textures and twelve-tone rows to create complex harmonic structures.
   
2. Electronic Music: Stockhausen's electronic compositions often feature innovative harmonic textures created through the manipulation of sine waves, noise, and other sound sources. "Gesang der Jünglinge" (1955-56) combines the human voice with electronic sounds, blurring the lines between harmony and timbre.
   
3. Spatial Music: His interest in the spatial distribution of sound led to works like "Gruppen" (1955-57), which uses three orchestras placed around the audience. The resulting spatial effects create unique harmonic textures that change depending on the listener's position.
   
4. Intuitive Music: In pieces like "Aus den sieben Tagen" (1968), Stockhausen explored "intuitive music," where performers are given textual instructions rather than specific notes, leading to unpredictable harmonic textures.
   

Popular Forms

Stockhausen's works often defy traditional forms, but several key types can be identified:

1. Electronic and Tape Music: Pioneering pieces like "Studie I" (1953) and "Studie II" (1954) are among the first examples of purely electronic music. "Kontakte" (1958-60) integrates live instrumental performance with electronic sounds, creating a form that bridges fixed media and live performance.
   
2. Moment Form: Stockhausen developed the concept of "moment form," where musical sections are self-contained and can be experienced independently. "Momente" (1962-64/1969) exemplifies this approach, with sections that can be reordered or omitted without disrupting the overall structure.
   
3. Operatic and Theatrical Works: His seven-opera cycle "Licht" (1977-2003) represents a monumental exploration of musical form and interdisciplinary art. Each opera is dedicated to a day of the week, combining music, stage design, and ritualistic elements.
   
4. Electronic Opera: "Mittwoch aus Licht" (1995-97) includes the famous "Helicopter String Quartet," where musicians perform in helicopters, integrating live performance with aviation sounds.
   

Innovations in the Music Industry

Stockhausen's contributions extend beyond composition, influencing various aspects of music production and theory:

1. Electronic Music Studios: He was instrumental in establishing the WDR Studio for Electronic Music in Cologne, one of the first facilities dedicated to electronic music production. His work here set the stage for future electronic music studios worldwide.
   
2. Spatial Audio: Stockhausen's exploration of spatial music anticipated contemporary practices in surround sound and immersive audio. His ideas influenced the development of spatial audio technology used in modern performance venues and sound installations.
   
3. Aleatoric Techniques: By incorporating elements of chance into his compositions, Stockhausen influenced subsequent generations of composers and performers, encouraging a more flexible and dynamic approach to music-making.
   
4. Extended Techniques: His work often required musicians to employ extended techniques, expanding the vocabulary of instrumental performance. This has had a lasting impact on contemporary classical music and improvisation.
   
5. Interdisciplinary Art: Through works like "Licht," Stockhausen demonstrated the potential for integrating music with other art forms, inspiring countless interdisciplinary collaborations in contemporary arts.
   

Conclusion

Karlheinz Stockhausen's contributions to music are vast and multifaceted. His innovations in harmonic texture, form, and the integration of new technologies have had a profound impact on the music industry and contemporary composition. From his pioneering electronic works to his expansive operatic projects, Stockhausen's legacy continues to inspire and challenge musicians and composers around the world.

So I want to understand well my Capricorn and avoid to be a weirdo or freak her up.
So after a lot of years I retook contact with her because I wanted to apologize with her because I'm the past for lies from others, she ended getting mad at me for something I didn't have nothing to do and would take my distance for very long.
So we retook contact and was fine and good but something I have notice is that when chatting sometimes she won't answer more questions or keep the conversation going, so I would let her days to do her stuff and all that.
I know many would say but she is just disrespecting you and doesn't care , but I know her besides hating social medias and all that, she hasn't been doing great as well since her cat die some weeks ago, even thought it was a lot of years without contact I decided to help a little even thought she was surprised and say that she would repay me as soon as possible, I say it was allright that she would have done the same if I would be on difficulty.
Last week she have a fall down and posted some stuff about her cat, so we chatted a bit and she told me about the cats she has lost and even thought many hate sensibility , I somehow find this cute and give me more understanding of her.
Eventually I made an acrostic poem of her cat name with each letter, I don't know if it was cringe or bad , or that she simply read it and push the difficulties she got on the week.
The thing is that I didn't got an answer and I understand that she has been dealing with a lot, week has been busy for both of us.
But I don't know I'm thinking to write her seeing that tomorrow is Sunday and everybody got free but I don't want to be annoying or feel clingy to her.
Sooo capricorns, what should I do? What you people think is going on?
She hasn't answer many times in the past but I don't take it personally and let her be, she doesn't really write me first before except a few times with a greeting with a lot of exclamations marks hahaha.
I just don't want for her to lose interest, neither to feel alone and misunderstood in those difficult times.
She has told me that she doesn't feel understood about the situation of her cat with her family and she wrote me about it.
Sometimes in afraid to say the wrong thing because I feel like walking in a glass bridge that could break at anytime.

Hey everyone,
Looking for some advice on our upcoming trip to Ibiza from June 5th to June 9th. We're torn between experiencing the hype of mega clubs and opting for smaller venues for a more intimate vibe. We've heard mixed reviews about mega clubs being overcrowded and expensive, but we're willing to splurge if it's worth it. On the other hand, smaller clubs might lack the excitement we're seeking. We really want to make the most of our time in Ibiza and immerse ourselves in the experience.
Here's our tentative plan:

1. **Wednesday**: Ushuaia Tomorrowland with Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike.
2. Pool party at either Ibiza Rock or O beach, or maybe both (?).
3. Pacha has caught our attention due to positive feedback.
4. We're on the fence about Amnesia due to mixed reviews.
5. Cova Santa and Ashaka seem promising based on recommendations.
6. We're also contemplating attending Hi Ibiza on Friday for David Guetta, but we're concerned it might be too crowded. Also, it is 100 euro entrance.
7. Oceanbeat Ibiza boat party - has very good reviews

For now, we are pretty sure we will go to Ushuaia on Wednesday, one of the pool party, the boat party, and Pacha (we dont know on what days)
We're into electronic music but prefer mainstream over techno. Any suggestions for places that cater more to our taste would be appreciated.
As for the DJ lineup, we're pretty clueless. We're aiming for a lineup that strikes the right balance for a lively party without being overly packed. Any insights on the following options for Thursday and Friday would be great (Wednesday is Ushuaia TML, and Saturday is short day)

• Pacha: Pure Pacha and Music ON
• Cova Santa: COSMIC PINEAPPLE THU and MASAKA AFRICANA
• Amnesia: Bresh Opening Party and Horizon presents Mathame NEO / EXHALE
• Ashaka: Akasha Slave To The Rhythm (only Friday)

We're open to suggestions and appreciate any advice you can offer!